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.