Getaway day

Saturdays are always the main event at a weekend convention.
This morning it's all about elections, breakfast, announcing the election results, and good byes.
Then the drive home, with maybe a stop off along the way.

The next convention is the big one at Chicago.

There was pie

But before I can tell you about that I have to pitch a fit about some hotel wifi.
I'm sure you know what hotels I am talking about.
They charge for daily use and, as one moves from one part of the hotel to another, the signal becomes unavailable so the user has to log in again and again.

Yesterday was the first day of MB's Lions district convention.
She and I started the partying on Thursday by driving from Anderson to the BART station at Dublin to cation the train to San Francisco for the final game of the first Giants - Dodgers game of the season [no, I don't want to talk about the game].

So there I was* standing in the patio area of the hotel, minding my own business, when I heard my name over the PA system.
I was taken aback because, although I am a Lions member, I am not a member in her district and planned to just be an interested observer rather than a participant.
What I was hearing was I'd been entered as a competitor in some sort of competition.

"Really?!!"

It turns out someone had paid to enter me in a pie eating contest.

"Noooooo!"

Ah, but sacrifices must be made in the name of fundraising for worthwhile causes . . .   and it was other people's money.
So I joined 11 other victims competitors, including invited dignitaries from other districts, at the venue set up for the event.
At least they provided protective clothing [sic] and I remembered to remove my glasses.
The first thing I did was trade pies with the young lady next to me.
She didn't like chocolate.

Then I thought, "What have I gotten into?"
We were introduced.
I said:

"My name is Inigo Montoya.
"You keel my father.
"prepare to die!"

There's no way I want anyone to know who I am.

And it started.
90 seconds of face in the cream . . .   no looking . . .   no breathing . . .   just eat, eat, eat.

 I didn't embarass anyone, but the hotel had sent in a couple of ringers . . .   professional pie eaters, who put the other ten of us to shame when it comes to speed eating.
Afterward, I looked around and felt I'd done fairly well.
There wasn't much on the tablecloth around me and I'd managed to find the bottom of the pie.

 
Now it was time to exact some revenge from the party who'd done this.

Well, we'll save that for another time and place, but it will happen.

in its own sweet time

*SJC

Friday cat

Then there's this

The following pictures are of places I have visited or stayed.

Please just note the similarities

 That's Mrs. Cuz and Cuz [with his back to us] surveying the facilities at Kilmainham Jail in Dublin.

I see just a little irony that the first is a prison.
The second is at a hotel and spa.

The amenities inside the cells rooms are much better at the hotel.

Giants game today

Memory

It comes and goes.
I had totally forgotten that I'd given my dear sisters [and brother] acronymic knicknames.
Of course, I have to came up with a different one for the older of the two since she has once again retired.
That's twice now before full retirement age.
So I think it should be TR, for Twice Retired.
That replaces CC, for Career Counselor.
The younger sister remains CL, for Church Lady.
And brother remains that li'l endearment which is unused except in the company of family members.

MB could've easily been CL if that wasn't already taken.
That's a whole 'nother story.

once more we have

 avoided reporting on

 last weekend's convention

Odds 'n ends

So there I was*  . . . in the aisle of the Save Mart.
A somewhat familiar voice said, "Save them. Rescue them."

I'm sure it was Buck.
They will live in the flower vase until their quarantine ends tomorrow.

Of note:
The most recent report on Sebastian is he is adjusting to his new digs.
On Sunday he hung out with this guy.

Malcom

The irony about Malcom lounging on the scratching thingy is:

• the scratch thing is Sebastian's, but he ignored it
• Malcom has no claws

There are two other cats, Gilbert and Asja, in the household.
There is still some confrontation occurring on that front.
All of the cats jus ignore Archie, the Cocker Spaniel.
That's quite an accomplishment, as Archie is an attention hound.



It seems like it's only a brief stopover this week.
Tomorrow it's off to Anderson again [because we can], then to a Giants game [it is a Christmas gift] as we attend ur second Lions convention in two weeks.
The miles are piling up.
We haven't kept track.

life is good

I don't always do as I.m told

Today I have

Day late

This image is really old, but it arrived too late for me to post it on time.

Good times

Having way too much fun to write a blog post.

. . . and there's a free breakfast

Friday cat

this may be a rerun

Better late than never

Mrs. Cuz forwarded this after reading MB's post.

source: the Story People

It's dead on.

There he goes again

Well . . .   soon enough anyway.
The bag is packed.
After the festivities at noon . . .   a volunteer luncheon at church . . .   I am on the road north.

again

This time it's for reasons other than moving stuff, although some stuff shall be moved.
The main purpose for the trip is the Lions convention.
But that doesn't actually start until Friday.
There are some dentist things that shouldn't be put off.
So I am getting them, along with a trip to my favorite barber shop, handled.
Also I'm gonna take a chance ans visit the Dr's. office to see if I can't get them to okay my prescription and refer me to a primary care provider down here.

wish me luck  

MB has to work.
She will drive up in her car later . . .   hopefully this evening.

I think I will be glad to return home on Sunday.

gotta get these posted earlier

Two

Months, that is.
59 days of bliss.
Now, things get really interesting again.

Once more I have to go north to the dentist . . .   refit work that requires an overnight stay.
That's followed immediately by my Lions District Convention, which, for the first time ever, is in Anderson.
MB will join me sometime Thursday after work.

There may be posts here.

Next week it's more away time.
Only we will travel together to MB's Lions District Convention   . . . and a Giants game.
That all starts on the following Wednesday.

So, we shall see how soon the chaos of the merge is settled.

baby steps

When homes combine

A new decor is created.

We call it Early Merge.
There's more in other rooms, but they aren't nearly as fascinating.
. . . and still more to come.

you should se the garage

He is risen

Yep

Back to Anderson for the third time this week.

the fourth if you count last Sunday

Friday cat

best shot of him, ever

Yep.
That's Sebastian.
He's at his new home now . . .   in Washington state.
He's going to be making some adjustments . . .

. . . primarily getting used to living with three other cats . . .

. . . and a cranky old Cocker Spaniel.

On the other hand, he will get as much attention as he wants because he has managed to endear himself to the entire family and they to him.

and there'll be visits

Tomorrow

It's about the cat

whew!

I am physically drained.
Mentally, I'm trying not to overwork the system.
The big stuff, what we're keeping anyway, is moved [and stacked in the living room].
There are still some totes and boxes to me moved or disposed.

It turns out I will be making an extra journey north.
Tomorrow morning is the memorial and internment of a good friend, 23 year Navy Veteran, and fellow Lion.

I will also be able to take some more stuff.
There are a few things for which I have no idea what to do.
They're a legacy for which nobody really seems to want to be responsible.
I still have one more option.

well, two if you count the trash

1 + 1 = A WHOLE BUNCH of STUFF!!!

"Success is more a state of heart and mind than a sum total of material assets." 

Anonymous 

Seven weeks and three days ago Skip and I were married or, as the Bible says, "Two became one". While biblically 1 + 1 = 1, in our case it also equals A WHOLE BUNCH of STUFF!!!
Moving stuff has been going on for over 3 months and packing even longer. How do we accumulate SO MUCH STUFF? 
Shortly after Skip proposed, he told me that all he really needed to bring when we got married were his clothes. I told him that was silly - of course he would want to bring some of his things. He needed to make my home his home and have some of his own stuff. So the sorting and purging and packing began. I was encouraging Skip (perhaps nagging a little) to spend more time going through stuff and to figure out what to bring, what to donate, give away, and what to toss. I knew it was a tedious undertaking as well as emotional but it seemed to be going so slowly.
Then I had my AHA! moment. I got that deer in headlights look, I'm sure. One day, all of a sudden, I realized that he wasn't the only one who needed to be purging. He might have to pack up and move stuff but I needed to be making room for that stuff!! Eeeek!!! So I started working on stuff.
Stuff. How do we accumulate so much? Do we need it? Occasionally. Mostly we just want it. Why do we want so much stuff? Is it valuable? Sometimes. Depends on what makes it valuable? Monetary value or sentimental value? Stuff with sentimental value is usually much harder to part with.
Skip and I have a LOT of sentimental stuff. You know what that means. . . . It means we have a really hard time giving stuff up. But give stuff up is what we've had to do. The recycle can has been filled to the brim multiple times along with the garbage can. Still, there's a lot of stuff that's moved and more that still needs to move.
Following an estate sales on Saturday, furniture and more "stuff" was packed up on Sunday and loaded in a friend's trailer. On Monday Skip went back up the road to pack more stuff and send a truckload of stuff to the thrift store that benefits the local senior center. He came home with the car loaded.
This evening our friends will bring over the trailer and the furniture and more boxes will be unloaded. While it would be nice to think that the process is done, it's far from over. Though the new occupants are moving into Skip's house this week, we will make a few more trips back to sort, purge and pack up the garage and the attic. But that's not the end either.
Now we face the task of figuring out where to put stuff here. This may be as difficult or more so. And it may take as much or more time as the original packing and moving. We need to take EVERYTHING out of the garage - my stuff that was here and his that is now here - so it can be organized and put back in some semblance of order.
The living room is also piled with boxes. It is likely that more purging will (must) occur. Inside the house will be a little tougher but we'll get it done. The only real deadline is our own tolerance or intolerance for piles of stuff everywhere.
Stuff - the phrase that keeps going through my head is "the stuff dreams are made of".  I don't need stuff to fulfill my dreams. Stuff didn't keep Gary or Sharon with us. Stuff isn't what brought Skip and I together. I don't need stuff.
I have Skip. I love him. He loves me. What else could I need?


You can tell this is a guest post right from the get-go because the title just screams it at you [also I mess with the font].
. . . and that,  children, is partly why Uncle Skip has had some really brief blog posts. 

Due to circumstances

Reloating has inhibited the meager capabilities of this humble blogger.
He finds himself making an extra trip north today.

Guess what else

The computer has been disconnected from the innertubes because of the sale so there's no post today.
If things improve there may be a post Monday.

key word . . .   may

Guess what

We are having a sale.

tell you friends

Friday cat

Aaah, hmmmm!

A guy goes into the confessional box after years being away from the Church.
He pulls aside the curtain, enters and sits himself down.
There’s a fully equipped ...bar with crystal glasses, the best vestry wine, Guinness on tap, cigars and liqueur chocolates nearby.
And on the wall a fine photographic display of various women who appear to have misplaced their garments.
He hears a priest come in. “Father, forgive me for it’s been a very long time since I’ve been to confession and I must admit that the confessional box is much more inviting than it used to be.”
The priest replies, “Get out, you idiot. You’re on my side!”

There's an end in sight

MB and I, along with a majority of the Washington clan (they would be GS's Son, DIL, and two of the three grandkids) are headed north to either pack or dispose of what's left of the things still in Anderson.
We'll meet up with those who still live there and, this weekend, have an "Estate Sale" [there is no room in the garage and it is going to rain so the yard's out of the picture].

In all, there are about 12-14 folks who have to coordinate to pull this off.
There may be further updates here.

There will be a post Friday [unless something happens to the Internet].

I lied

I was just too lazy to write this in time for Sunday or yesterday.

Saturday morning [ . . . and yesterday, and Sunday] was a perfect spring morning, except for maybe the droppings from the liquidambar all over the windshield of my car.

MB and I were off to Citrus Heights to participate in a fundraising event.
It was also an opportunity to see a lot of friends, too.

It was promoted as a 5k walk.
It was much more.
The goal was to have about 100 participants and raise maybe $10,000.
There were probably 100 folks there to just support the participants, as well as entertain and feed them us.

A few friends and vendors

Others took some pictures, too!

source: Merita Sumovic

The above doesn't do justice to the fact there were close to 500 entrants.
There were spectators, too, and lots of other activities in the park.

In any case the goals were more than met.
At last word the funds raised were more than three times as much as hoped for.
. . . and the two of us got a little exercise.

(my smartphone app says 8,884 steps.

my legs tell me a 20 mile hike)

It was fun and worthwhile.

I got this calendar for Christmas

. . . and I'm sharing.

right . . .   got nothin'

If you don't laugh we understand

While golfing, a senior gentleman accidentally overturned his golf cart late one afternoon​.
A very attractive, young, female golfer, who lives in a villa on the golf course, heard the noise and called out, "Are you OK?"

"I’m OK, thanks," he replied, as he pulled himself out of the twisted cart.
She said, "Come up to my villa, rest a while, and I’ll help you get the cart up later."

The old guy noticed her silky bathrobe was partially open, revealing what appeared to be a very nice figure.
"That’s mighty nice of you," he answered, "but I don’t think my wife would like it."

"Oh, come on now!" she insisted. She was so pretty, and very, very persuasive. He was weak.
"Well, OK," he finally agreed.

After a couple of Scotch and sodas, he thanked her and said, "I feel a lot better now. ​
​But I know my wife is going to be really upset. So I’d better go now." 

"Don’t be silly!" she said with a smile, letting her robe fall slightly more open.
“Stay for a while. Your wife won’t know anything. By the way, where is she?"


He replied, "Still under the cart, I suppose." 

ya think

Sign of the times

it figures