This is about as political as I will get.

There's been a kind of running conversation among some of my fellow bloggers [at least the ones I follow regularly] and others who comment on those blogs.
It's been about whether or not they participate on koobecaf.
The consensus is that most have dabbled, but aren't fanataical.

Meanwhile, over on koobecaf, the denizens are in a frenzy . . .   well, some of them anyway.
Many of them spent a large portion of the last year and a half sputtering and gnashing their teeth about the recent election (that would be both sides of the issue . . .   or maybe all three  or four sides?).
Anyhow, the election disappointed [sic] a number of folks and they came down even harder, while the opposite side gloated [not recommended for maintaining good relations].
It may have even escalated a little as time progressed.
Some even had difficulty believing the candidate who was declared winner would actually be inaugurated.
(I am guessing they weren't paying attention in class when elections were discussed)

Then   . . . bear in mind this is all going down on a social media site    . . . it escalated further after the inauguration, mostly because the candidate is doing what he said he'd do.

But now there is a strange phenomenon taking place.
I am watching as folks are threatening  promising  vowing  pledging asserting that they're going to stop using koobecaf because it's become too intense.

For my own self, I shall continue to check in daily and just ignore that which I find offensive.
That shouldn't be too difficult when everyone else leaves, right?

I like social media.
I dislike that so many use the anonymity of such platforms to spew vitriol.
I have chosen to no longer follow the worst offenders.
The worst thing about the entire thing is there's an impression that there is no middle ground . . .   everything is either black or it is white is either all wet or totally dry [gotta quit using b or w may be misconstrued].

I posted this on Sunday:

I should have said:

Resistance is futile.

 . . . to temptation, that is

I'm not in the habit

I don't often post about the books I've read.
But since I finally finished reading the one above . . .

I found it quite informative.
The only reason it took me awhile to fisnish reading it is I have been diverted by other tasks.
It is far from a recent release.
The author has been dead since 1989.

that cat slept in on Friday until 8am

Counting Down

Another post sent to us by MNBF.

So much to do so little time. Three weeks. Actually only 20 days. It can't come soon enough but we really need more time.
There was a proposal. It was on October 30. As Skip left to go home on the 31st, he made a "comment" about the proposal. I didn't tell anyone because I wasn't sure it was real. Over the course of the week we texted. We may have talked on the phone - I don't remember. But there was no discussion of the proposal.
Friday has become my favorite day because it means Skip is arriving or I am going there. He came back that next Friday (November 4). As usual, he came to my office and then I took the rest of the afternoon off.
We went to my house. We sat down on the couch. We looked into each others eyes. Okay, there may have been a kiss or two or three. Finally, I looked at him and said, "You know that question you asked me last week - I need you to ask me again. I need to know if it's real."
He asked. It was real. I accepted.
No hesitation. No question in my mind. At this point I couldn't imagine living without him. I didn't even like the days between weekends without him.
Then the question of when. First reaction - let's just do this now. I don't want to wait. Then reason overruled and I realized that it isn't just about us.  Our families should be a part of this.
We decided on what seemed a reasonable date, far off in the future - a whole 3 1/2 months away.  If we lived in the same community and saw each other whenever we wanted to, waiting longer MIGHT have been an option. But eliminating the 163 miles that kept us apart could not wait any longer than absolutely necessary.
So here we are. Counting down the days. I am mildly freaking out about everything there is to do - not for the wedding - there are three fabulous young women who have taken on that responsibility because they wanted to and I told them to surprise me. I am more interested in the result than the event.
But there is furniture to move - some out of my house and some from his to mine to make it ours. Each weekend visit involves a car loaded with "stuff" whether it is his on the way down or mine on the way home.
It might not seem so impossible if it weren't for some very busy days and way too many time commitments. Between now and the wedding (20 days) I will be out of town 6 1/2 days. I will work everyday until family arrives on the 16th. I will only be home 3 evenings before family arrives.
My house needs to be cleaned and I have no idea when I can do it. My neighbor's housekeeper may find herself with an extra job. The yard needs some attention (it's been raining a LOT - that's my excuse). That may have to be an "oh well" and I'll suffer the embarrassment.
As for moving the rest of the stuff, we have resolved to do most of it after the wedding. We have until the end of April to vacate his premises completely and even then, it's family moving in.
20 days. Not enough but too many. 20 days and I can't wait. There may be a meltdown or two during that time but there is someone who will hold me together through it and be there forever after. Counting down. . . .

pitchers and catchers in two, one day

Yay . . . it's Saturday

. . . and I'm at a conference with MNBF.
That means, of course, I don't have to get creative for the blog.

I figured out that I am seriously electronically challenged by anything but my PC [I am only mildly challenged by it].

My phone hardly works because I have filled up the storage.
I can't seem to do much to fix that.

Come to think of it, my PC is limited by storage issues, too.

The tablet doesn't have any storage issues, just user issues.
It's good for koobecaf and reading blogs, but I haven't totally figured out the interface, even after a couple of years.

Even the laptop gives me fits.

It seems there are ways to handle these storage . . .   or maybe they're filing . . .   issues?
I guess I better go back to school.

or quit taking pictures

Friday cat

twenty something, still

This isn't easy

There are those who make posting to a blog look as natural as breathing.
I can think of  a couple right off the top of my head: Sarge and Cranky.
They will probably be the first to tell you it is a lot of work . . .   particularly when writing a full post regularly.
It doesn't help much, either, when there are constant distractions.

No! Not THAT distraction . . .   just the routine distractions of phones, texts, koobecaf, and their ilk.

Speaking of distractions, I am again looking for an acronym or pseudonym for PHG's sister.
She changed jobs and Runner no longer seems appropriate.
I have one or two in the back of my mind, but they're probably better off remaining there.

Heck!
Even PHG is no longer appropriate.
She hasn't been anywhere near the house for almost a year and a half.
That would make here OHG (old house guest) [phg did not mean pretty hot girl even though . . . ].



The biggest distraction is that I am supposed to be packing up things that are to be moved (clothing, some small household items, etc.) or discarded (old electronic gear . . .   think three two old computers, broken shit stuff, outdated software discs, and about 1,000 inkpens)

There is also a large store of items belonging to the Lions Club that I must pass along to others.



Sebastian is also an issue.
He would move with me, but there is an issue of extreme cat allergies that forces me to seek a proper home for him.
It may work out that will stay here where his environment will not change . . .  just the folks for whom he's responsible.
That would be the best case scenario.

eighteen days until pitchers and catchers report

Twenty four

Yesterday (Tuesday) started out just a little dreary.

On the plus side, I see my neighbor up the street no longer has his Christmas lights up.

Within an hour the fog lifted.

That's not nearly spectacular enough.

This works better . . .

A friend sent that from his morning walk.

miss a lot by blogging early in the day

That's when it all started

January 24, 1848
James Marshall was walking the millrace at John Sutter's sawmill in Coloma, California when he saw a little sparkle.
It turned out to be gold.
California hasn't been the same since.

isn't that what ya'll wanted to know

Road issues

The challenge of posting from other than the PC has me flummoxed.
Therefore, you shall have to deal with things like this . . .

not that batman

I tried . . .

. . . to post from my smartphone

. . . then from the tablet

. . . now, the laptop is in play.

There are squirrels.

Huh?

Yeah, I forgot.
Besides, it's Saturday.
Maybe tomorrow?

Friday cat

twenty nine

Sure Happy It's Thursday

Because that means tomorrow is Friday.

But first there's this . . .

That's the infrared satellite shot of the area in which I hang out most of the time.
That was a 12:30pm local time yesterday.
There was also a bit of a breeze (out of the south at 25 mph with gusts to near 40)

And now for the news . . .   oh, wait that's another medium.

About why Fridays have some meaning.
If you've been following lately, you're already aware that a certain relationship involves some travel.
Either MNBF drives north after work on Friday, or your humble scribe drives south whenever he can tear himself away [sometimes as early as 8pm on Thursday].
The weather figures into these little excursions, particularly when confronted by things like what's in that picture.
The trips are dual purpose.
Southbound journey typically involves loading the vehicle and bringing things which must be moved eventually.
Occasionally it involves bringing things we can actually use immediately.
Mostly, though, it's about enjoying being with each other.
So . . .   for the first time in a long time . . .  Fridays mean the start of the weekend to which I look forward.
I'd forgotten what that was like.

Somebody mentioned elsewhere that I'm on a voyage of self-discovery.
Truth be told, I have been collecting data for a long time.
It's only recently that there's been any interpretation.

I learned one thing for sure.
It is necessary to be very careful to balance the data.
Otherwise the ego gets in the way of reality and everything blows up.
You know how it goes:

"I may not be much, but I'm all I think about."

it is first day
of full squad workouts
and I was off by one day

Maybe I was wrong

There is some question now as to when pitchers and catchers report.

Then there's this . . .

HSWHTPFIHC

do not try
this at home

It snaps back

There seems to be a rubber band that stretches about 163 miles from one end of the Sacramento Valley to the other.
This weekend the stretch lasted just a little longer than usual . . .   but not long enough.
Much was accomplished on the domestic front.
There's still much to do.
Of course. every day I spend with MNBF at her place is one less day at my place, getting things packed or otherwise tending to details.

It wasn't all work, though.
Friday, we took care of some official details.
Saturday morning we attended a high school wrestling tournament to watch blond freshman kid wrestle for his varsity team.
He took third in the 132 lb weight division.

His dad is still doing really well  after the transplan surgery.
H is dealing with his own back and forth in the valley.

The heavy rains of a week ago have abated, though they've helped to produce morning fog in the south end of the valley.
Go visit the Daily Timewaster for some images of the aftermath of the tropical hosing.
I'm not looking forward to this morning's drive.

thirty two

Inquiring minds

. . . want to know who is moving.

I have no problem answering that question.

• She has a smaller yard
• there's a swimming pool
• it's only three blocks to the nearest In-n-Out

There are other reasons to move as well.

• My grandchildren are nearby - not that I don't have other grandchildren in other places
• Thus, my daughter is nearby, as well
• It's closer to other family members
• There really isn't much anything that I can't do there

 I had considered moving south two years ago, but I decided then that it was a poor time to make that decision.
It appears that the decision was made without me.
I can live with that.

It's Saturday . . .

. . .  and, lately, this is how I roll . . .



. . . with a carload of stuff.

five weeks

Wherin we find another guest post

MNBF writes:

Time is a relative thing. When speaking of a newborn, life is measured in days, then weeks, and finally in months.  Age is counted in months through the first 24 before years start counting.
A week to a two month old constitutes a hefty chunk of their life. A week to a normal adult is a drop in the bucket. And as we get older weeks seem to fly by.
How did we get to 2017? What happened to 2016? It's a complete blur! It wasn't that long ago that we were worried about Y2K, right? Yet, since Y2K, 3 daughters-in-law and 11 grandchildren, the youngest being 6 already, have been added to my family and too many have left us - evidence that much time has passed.
I have lived 3,137 weeks - what's one more? Well, it depends on the week. Some weeks can't go by fast enough and some are over when I want them to last much longer.
Skip and I spent the WHOLE WEEK after Christmas together. It was wonderful but went by way too fast. It has now been 6 full days since I've seen him and the time is dragging. His arrival here can't come soon enough.
Time is relative. There are a few reasons why the next 5 weeks will go WAY TOO FAST (like all the purging and packing and moving that has to be done) but there are 163 reasons why the next 5 weeks will go WAY TOO SLOW - 163 miles of highway between Skip's house and my house.
The time on the road traveling to the other's home is long with anticipation. The road back to our own home is long with anguish for the days apart. But the time together is worth every moment on the road. And each mile driven, each moment apart or together brings us that much closer to the time when the miles and days that separate us are no more.
I can't wait - but I have no choice - so I must wait. 5 weeks from now will be the beginning of more weeks, but weeks that are all spent together and that will be so worth the wait.

There being only one normal adult in this relationship, you can only imagine what it's like for yours truly [HSWHTPFIHC].

y'all know how this
blog feels about normal

Yeah . . . like that!

Blogging

Suldog writes about Shoveling Snow.
The Sarge writes about Cats.
The Cranky old Man writes about Heaven and Hell.
Sandee doesn't write on Wednesday
Here, all I can think about is, "I'm sure happy it stopped raining for awhile."

It all started sometime early Saturday morning, in the wee hours before oh dark thirty.
I heard the monotonous sound of water in the downspout outside my window [actually it is a patio door, but there used to be a window that we replaced with a door about 23 1/2 years ago].
When I finally rose sometime after six, I discovered it wasn't rain at all.

There was dandruff everywhere.
Wet dandruff . . .

. . . and it was cold.

Fortunately there was no ice.
It was really quiet, too.

It didn't last because that all turned to rain, which has fallen ever since until sometime last evening.

That really put a crimp on the activities of a certain feline.

five weeks, three days

Whimsy . . .

The past couple of weeks I haven't had to write much.
It's nice to have help.
Some of us [not me] have to work and are only able to write posts occasionally [like when trapped in the middle seat on a cross country airplane trip].

I said I don't have to work.
That doesn't mean I've nothing to do.
There are two households to combine.
One of those has to be culled and moved.
Writing this blog may be limited to more stuff like the past two days.

Please, don't consider the lyrics when contemplating yesterday's music.

 
Son in law arrived home Saturday evening.
There are lots of happy campers here.
He still has to go back to Sacramento a couple of times each week for follow-ups.
That's not nearly as tough as dialysis every other day.

trumpets

Am I mad?

My mind tells me this would be good wedding music at the end of the ceremony.

what do ya think Nick?

Don't ask . . .

Best Christmas movie!!!

Where was I?

Oh,  yeah . . . 

There I was*  . . . dashing through the snow!

Really, all the way to almost Canada . . .

see that little red star?

. . . five miles or so.
Even my cell phone carrier thought I should be paying for international service.
I was really slippery  . . . and cold.
Well, outside it was cold.

Inside it was warm and Christmas.

The Sun came out

It was still cold outside, but I could see Canada off in the distance [not in this picture, though].

MNBF was off somewhere near Lake Michigan writing blog posts instead of doing cross stitch.
But I digress [it's what bloggers do when they have writers block].

I could write further about the holiday but really all you want to know is about now.
So . . .  briefly:
Two day after Christmas MNBF arrived at Sea-Tac and I met her and we drove to her son's home northeast of Seattle.
Another son and his family arrived.
There were 14 of us.
There was flu.
The stay was cut short.
That was good because we left just in time to miss a nasty turnabout in the weather where some highways were rendered impassible.

Some of our adventure was played out on koobecaf.

credit: MNBF

I know that everyone wants to know how my son in law is doing.
I have purposely sandbagged publishing little more that incidental progress reports.

He was doing well enough after the surgery that he bypassed the ICU.
The kidney he receive was described as "a perfect match."
When I saw him Wednesday morning he looked better than I had seen him in months.
He was hungry.
That was understandable because he hadn't eaten since 9pm Monday.
Thursday he told me he'd farted so they were finally going to let him have some solid food.
His labs were all normal.
The latest is that he will be home tonight.

The story behind all this kidney stuff is long and complicated.
But there's a romantic twist, too.
I may tell that part some day (POCIR).

*SJC

Friday cat

Well . . . that was easy

My new best friend (MNBF to the uninitiated) relieved me from my blogging duties for about the last two weeks,
It was a nice break.
I could get used to posting OPW (other people's work).
The downside is that she was nowhere nearby, having flown the coop to visit family in Wisconsin.
At least that's what she told me when I dropped her off at Sacramento's airport at 4:45am on Tuesday, December 20.

I wasn't exactly at loose ends.
I hurried home to prepare the house for a Lions Club Christmas party.
It, the party, was fun.
Then I kinda cleaned up, packed a bag or so, and drove north to Washington, the state.
Visited the Clan, I did.

For the Christmas holiday itself, we went further north to what I choose to call almost Canada.
It is at the foot of Mt Baker and only about eight miles from the border.
My cell phone carrier kept suggesting that I needed to upgrade my service for foreign travel.
While the drive north was relatively uneventful, the traffic through Seattle was unavoidable and hellacious.
I was happy I was not driving, as it was also snowing.

I am going to pause here so I can drag this out over the net few days

About Friday on a Wednesday

She writes the posts.
I write the titles [gotta earn my keep].

Friday!
He would be down on Friday!
Someone needed a ride to the doctor in Sacramento.
He volunteered to drive.
I would see him on Friday!

I was living in a state of giddiness. I started smiling with the first good morning text and continued throughout the day. I'm pretty sure I was smiling in my sleep, too - at least when I was sleeping. There was no trouble falling asleep. But I was waking up at 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning and those darned squirrels wouldn't let me go back to sleep.
Then there was the music. I played it all the time. In the morning, in the car, at night. . . .
I put together a playlist of songs that said what I was feeling. There are three that were like they were written about us. Most have been around for awhile. One I've already shared.
Slowly but Surely. That's what the song says. Even Skip said we'll take it one step at a time and see how it goes (or maybe he said see what happens?) I'm sure I agreed. I was in no hurry. This was a place I never expected to be and had no idea what I was doing.
Whatever we said, it doesn't matter. Things went anything but slowly but most definitely for surely. I knew for sure that Friday.
He would drop his friend at the doctor and we would go to lunch. I packed a picnic and we went to the park. (You can read what Skip had to say about the picnic on September 24th and December 13th.)
We ate and talked and then we walked. There is a small lake and a walking path around it. We held hands and walked around the lake and talked some more.
We found a bench to sit on. There was another kiss - the third for those who are counting. Well, they say the third time's the charm. This third kiss was different. Everything was different. Everything was wonderful! There were no more questions about what this was. This was (and is!) love.
How did it happen? We still ask ourselves the same question. There's really only one answer for both of us. God will do amazing things when you let him.
And this is only the beginning. . . .

And yet there has been no mention, so far, that she was not the main reason for any of these trips . . . just the best reason for not passing up an opportunity.

In further news, There was a successful surgery for the replacement of a rejected kidney.
Also removed, but not replaced, were an appendix and a peritoneal catheter.
I hope to have more news later this morning.

LIfe speeds up

MNBF has 11 posts [should I just turn this over to her?]

We had our face to face. We were the same people we had always been but things were different. Skip went to Omaha. We still managed plenty of texting throughout the week despite the two hour time difference.
I know couples who have spent their entire courtship apart. This was before cell phones and texting when long distance calls cost too much to make except on special occasions. They wrote letters. They waited for replies. They fell in love with the other person by getting to know them through what was conveyed in the written word.
This may seem odd to some. They may wonder how you can really get to know someone through letters? Or texts?
In reality, you may actually get to know someone in a much deeper way when all you have is the written word. Face to face communication can fail in several ways. Personally, I feel safer expressing myself in writing than in person and therefore I can be more honest. I can reread before sending so I don't say the wrong thing and then regret it. I don't have to see the person's face or feel the rejection if they don't like what I said.
Then there is the absence of physical contact. Because there isn't the temptation of touch, there can be more talk - more real communication.
Yes, we were only texting. But we were texting A LOT. If I were to print out all of our texts over the first couple of months, they would probably fill a book. I learned so much about Skip that I didn't know before. And as I learned, I fell in love. (But I'm getting ahead of the story. . .)
Skip flew back from Omaha. I invited him to come for the afternoon and for dinner before he drove home. Two of my brothers and their wives were in town for the weekend. My brothers lovingly threatened to grill him. They did not.
We sat on the patio and talked - not about anything in particular and I'm pretty sure we never talked about what was happening between us - we talked about that plenty when we were texting.
There was dinner.
There was conversation with the whole family.
There was a question. (When would this happen again? Friday!)
There were hugs.
There was a good bye kiss.
Things were changing. . . .

My son in law could use your prayers this morning. He's at UC Davis Hospital getting another kidney. I will be there and post an update when there's news.

Number 10

MNBF is still writing [Sarge, you're gonna have to tell her the kind of wages we pay]

(If you haven't read Skips take on this, check out December 10.)

Face to Face
So, my imagination wasn't exactly accurate (but you knew that already). He was not regretting asking me to the reunion. All he meant was that squirrels have more concerns than Sebastian (who has no concerns).
While my worry was unfounded, it was really the best thing that could have happened. It showed me how much this relationship had come to mean to me. It prompted me to sort out my feelings and put them into words. It led me to share those feelings completely and honestly with Skip. (Honesty is always a good thing and we have promised to always be completely open and honest with each other about everything.)
Best of all, what I expressed in my email turned out to be pretty much in line with what he was feeling.  So, we really needed to see each other face to face. Strike that. I needed us to see each other face to face.
But how would that be accomplished? 163 miles doesn't allow for casual meetings. This would require planning.
He said he was going out of town the next week. Waiting a few weeks meant remaining in this state of limbo. (I actually used to win limbo contests when I was younger . . . Oh, wait, different kind of limbo . . .)
For the moment, without a plan to meet, the texting continued - often for hours at a time, late at night. Without a plan to meet, the feelings grew stronger. Without a plan to meet, I was NOT getting enough sleep.
One night he texted about his upcoming trip to Omaha. A light bulb went on in my head. . . .
Me: What time is your flight?

Skip: 11:50

Me: We could meet for breakfast in Woodland.

Skip: (I don't remember exactly what he said but my imagination kicked in and I got the feeling he wasn't really sure if he was ready for that. Regardless, he agreed.)

I drove to Woodland that Tuesday morning feeling like a giddy teenager, not knowing what to expect. We met. Face to face. He held my hand. There was a kiss as we parted. Things were definitely different.

Oatmeal . . . in case you want to know

life is good
yes, there's more

2017 begins