Our Mom would have achieved 97 years today. Happy Birthday to a wonderful Mother.

At 16 with our Father, Ivan Maurice Bremer.

With Mike...

The Black Hawk Waltz

A real beauty.

Her yard at Independence Oregon

With Jilly Bones and Kimmy Sue

With Tracy

5 Generations

5 Generations

With Lou

5 Generations

 Leonard all around

With Trish

With Tracy

With Gertie

Above the Doc's Shoe Shop...Albany Oregon

Santa Barbara life

As a Car Hop

Farewell to Nye Beach after 8 good years.

I took this Photo the last night of my 8 year stay at the Nye Beach apartment. 

I had mostly cleared everything out of the apartment and this would be the last thing I would pick up on my way out forever...the morning of Sept. 26th, 2018. 

As I walked down the hall to my bedroom that night, I noticed the expression on the laundry bag caused by the folds and wrinkles and it caught my eye. 

Here it is nearly a year and a half later and I am still retired and have no idea where that sad sack might be.

I probably folded it up and stuffed in a drawer...somewhere in this house.

She is Legal...

She is legal !!

Went to Happy Valley City Hall today  (Friday, August 30)  and made Lucy a legal resident of our city. 

Last night, a fairly significant lightning and thunder system passed through our valley. This upset Lucy considerably. She started trembling all over her little body and sort of wrapped herself around the top of my head. I must have spent a good hour and a half trying to comfort her with soothing strokes and soft words. 

While we were gone to City Hall, we secured Lucy in her cage to keep her safe. When we returned..She was very happy to see us and have her optimism restored. We did come back.

This happened to catch my attention yesterday. 

Searching for Lucy Too....

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.”

— Anaïs Nin

The vanishing Lucy Too.. Dog. 

I am not writing this to taste the experience once again..I’m writing this only to record it for posterity.

Yesterday was TGB’s 77th birthday and to celebrate it we decided to go to OutBack for dinner...only a 5 minute drive from home. 

We felt secure that our new doggie would be OK for the hour or so it took for us to do that. 

90 minutes later...when we returned home, There was NO sign of our sweet little Chi-weeny..anywhere.

 She had just vanished. 

We looked under every bush, checked out all the rooms in the house. Explored under every  bed, closet and room for an imaginable hiding places . 

NO LUCY!!

I started outside to look in the park thinking that would be a logical place she might head for because that was where other people were...as I started in the direction of the park, I noticed a man and his dog walking towards me from up hill and yelling something. 

I turned towards him and when he got close enough, he hollered... “Are you looking for a dog?” 

Immediately, I felt a wave of relief flow through  me. 

When he got close enough, he related the story of a small Chihuahua...stopping traffic on the street that runs by our house and some good samaritans who lived up the street further..who had wrapped it in a towel to take home and search for its owner. 

We caught up with these wonderful people 

and there she was.. wrapped in a towel.. 

being pampered with chicken and loving concerns. 

A lady whom we had met in the neighborhood.. many years ago had rescued her..after a very long and strenuous capture.

Her name is Karen and I remember her for having a very OLD dog, a long time ago who she would routinely exercise with slow and purposeful walks by our house. 

It took awhile but eventually I convinced her and her posse, (3 or 4 small kids 6-10 years old)  

of our relationship to Lucy. 

We took her home, found the area she squirmed out of          (I just couldn’t believe she could get out of such a small opening)

and gave profound homage to the stray dog Gods.

From now on...Lucy goes into her cage when we are out of the house for an undetermined amounts of time. That, or block the doggie door so she can’t escape the house.

Maybe..Both.

WHEW!!

On a more somber note:

The Noodle came home today.

SantaBarbara...A 10 year old boy’s recollection.

“Good habits formed at youth make all the difference.”
— Aristotle



It was a wonderful place to be. The sun was warm and brighter than Oregons.

The air smelled of flowers, warmth and eucalyptus trees.







Eucalyptus trees looked different than Oregon trees.

They have white trunks and tiny pointed leaves..

and they gave off an odor much like "Vick’s Vapo-rub."


They also reminded me of ghosts.


Life was good..even on school days..


I had a bicycle, best of friends, rich imagination and freedom to wander wherever and whenever it pleased my fancy.

This freedom was only hindered slightly by my two younger siblings. 
(Being the eldest, I was put in charge of their safety) .....but..do-able.

If not in school... We would be off on adventures.

Adventures like exploring the SantaBarbara Botanical gardens,






or the Old SantaBarbara Mission..






or hiking up into the hills that surrounded the City.







Most often we would walk the 3 miles or so to Stearn’s Wharf ..



A magical structure jutting out into the Pacific Ocean with all the smells and dangers and opportunities any child would find irresistible.




We where always looking for Danger...like Snakes, lizards,
Pirates or even kidnappers.

At least, that is what comes to mind as I write this.

Diamonds and Gold were high on our priority list.

We would be gone all day, without food or water. 
If we couldn’t find water we would simply knock on a strangers door and ask for it.

This was during the late ’40s and early ’50s...

Perverts hadn’t been invented yet.

and food never seemed to be an issue,
at least for me.
(I still feel that way about food.)



Another favorite destination was the Museum of natural history..



A fascinating destination where we could experience all our imaginative druthers.



Yes, Life was good.


As I write this, I can still smell SantaBarbara.

I can feel the warmth and squinty-eyed weight of the suns
Overwhelming presence.

The tired and hot muscles. 
Thirst.

The eagerness of always looking around the next corner for adventure and escape from danger...
and always the chance of treasure.

A great place for a 10-year-old boy. :)


db 8/5/2019


79°F Clear
9490 SE Tarnahan Dr, Happy Valley, OR, United States

River Sailing (motoring) up and down the Columbia River.

Jonathan Stout, 

A friend of mine for nearly half a century, called me the other day and suggested a trip up and down the Columbia..from Astoria (where his sail-boat is moored), up river to, perhaps as far as the gorge and back. This is just a thought right now but it instantly resonated with me as  something I would really like to do.  It would probably just be the two of us and of course wouldn’t take place until spring..when the weather is much more temperate..and safer. 

This reminds me of another river trip Jon Stout and I took...long ago.

One time ...probably way back in the early 1990’s...and just before TGB and I moved to Bend...Jon and I met at the Jantze Beach Red Lion Inn where Jon had tied up his boat for a Denturist meeting. At the time his sail boat was moored close to this place. 

We had a lot to drink that day so ..with a bottle of tequila in hand...a promising snoot full of booze and youthful bravado...we headed upstream..for some imaginary destination..Puerto Rico I believe was mentioned. 

We traveled through most of the night...consumed most if not all the tequila and ended up on the north side of the river at a moorage to try and sleep off a rapidly approaching hangover. 

It  was a miracle we were able to navigate numerous sandbars and other ways to sink a sailboat..but somehow we did..and even survived the morning hang-over. Jon called Phil Taylor who happened to live close by in the small town of Camas Washington. 

He kindly came down to the moorage, picked us up , took us to his and Heathers home just a mile or so away and fed us. 

With a belly full of food and diminishing alcohol poisoning...we headed back down-river and the adventure was over. 

The trip back, we both were soberly amazed as how the night before hadn’t ended in some tragic manner. It was an enlightening moment.

That may have been the last time I went sailing with my friend, Jonathan Stout.

First Crush

When I was little more than a toddler, My sister (Sandra Jantze Bremer) and I were relocated to "Family" in central Iowa for the duration of WW2. 

We left a typical suburban city life (Portland Oregon) for a very atypical rural life on a farm..with our paternal Grandparents..
A place without electricity...Paved... streets...outhouses and no indoor plumbing...
Lots and lots of animals, open fields, ponds, tall corn, windmills, silos ....and everywhere...
ADVENTURE. 
It was Paradise. 

We actually began our first-grade education in a one-room schoolhouse.

We lived with our Grand Parents, Elsie and HB Bremer..along with their two remaining children. My Aunt Lois and her older Brother.Dean Bremer, 
my Uncle Dean.

Dean was all of 18 at the time and because of him being needed to help on the farm..wasn't allowed to join the military..both of his older brothers already were serving...Vere Bremer and.. Ivan Maurice Bremer (Our paternal Father). 

Uncle Dean took over the job of parenting me...And Aunt Lois became my Sisters mentor for the next 3+ years. 

Actually...Aunt Lois was our very first school teacher at Spunky Ridge 1-8 one-room school.. just a mile east of the farm on a dusty, muddy, icy country road. 

Like I may have mentioned..It was Paradise.

Uncle Dean met and fell in love with Ruth from Garden Grove Iowa..the nearest town..Which brings me to the title of this message..

Recently Ruth passed on..and all these memories came flooding back to me.

From R-L are Ruth Bremer, Dean Bremer, and my Dad, Ivan Maurice Bremer "Chip"

My Uncle Dean loved Ruth...So naturally...So did I.

Deans youngest son, Jerry Bremer who still lives close to that farm tells the story of how..During church services..I would stand up facing backward on the pews and unashamedly flirt with Ruth instead of paying attention to the preacher. Some things never change.

Now for all my Bremer relatives in the Longview, Kelso area, I will post some pictures I recently received our relatives from IOWAY. 

Contact me on this Blog, Facebook or debre@teleport.com if you have any questions about the pictures. I will share whatever I know.  db  :)

A photo of my Mom and Dad when they were first a couple

The whole Family before Mike was born

My Dad and I flew to Iowa for Granddads funeral

l-r Vere, Emily,Granddad,Maurice, Grandma and Dean Bremer

Sis Sandra and Me

Grandma Elsie, Emily and Chip Bremer

Sandy and Me

Emily and Ivan Maurice "Chip" Bremer

Chip and Dean Bremer

Dorothy Leonard Bremer Pugh

Chip and Emily

My Mom Standing left behind her sister Marge Leonard

Siblings Sandy and DeWayne

Chip Bremer with Steve and Joe

L-R  Vere, Dean Grandma Elsie(sitting} and Chip Bremer

My Mom and Me

Me and Dean

Chip with Joe and Steve and Jean, Chips 2nd wife.

Mother of Joe and Steve

Sandy and DeWayne at the farm just before

coming back to Oregon.

My Dad

Joe and Steve Bremer, Early 60's

At Kalama

Granddad (Horace Boise Bremer) and uncle Dean

In shadow

The pony was probably Trigger

Sandy and her Dad, I M Bremer.