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Thursday, May 17, 2012

Desert v. desert.

Most of you know I am "from" Nevada.  I lived there for 35 years, spent my entire working career there, still own a home there, and have many beloved family and friends there.  I always felt that the desert of Southern Nevada had its own beauty, bleak as it may be or seem to "outsiders."

When we moved to Central Oregon just over two years ago, my husband and I both were amazed to learn that Oregonians consider this part of the state of be "desert."  Ha!  We're surrounded by trees (juniper trees are still trees, folks) here in Powell Butte, and just a short drive to Bend takes us to the pines and rivers and lakes of the Cascades.  Desert?  I think not.

My recent drive to Las Vegas bears this out.

Lovely Goldfield


My "hometown"

Just outside Tonopah, perhaps?

Kind of all looks the same.  I was going to take pictures of the missile silos and munitions depots outside Hawthorne, but I was nervous about getting shot.

By contrast, here's the Oregon "desert" ...





Just a bit prettier, imho.  I'm so glad we live in Oregon.

And just for an update, here I am on my three month Medifast anniversary:


Monday, May 7, 2012

The Funniest Thing Ever Written About a Trip to Arkansas


This weekend I met my sisters in Las Vegas and we flew to Arkansas to visit with our father and his wife, JoBess.  My sisters are amazingly funny people, and when we get together, well, we’re even funnier than even the Kardashians (funny haha, not funny strange).

We were able to get a direct flight, which is good because it’s another hour and a half from the airport to Dad and JoBess’s home.  We wanted to see Dad especially because he hasn’t been feeling well,  it’s his birthday this month, and we figured it would be a nice for him to have all four of us there at the same time – go figure.

On the plane,  Sisters 1 and 4 sat together, and I sat with Sister 2.  The flight to Little Rock got a little bumpy near the end, and while I was a little concerned, I figured god loved Sister #1 so we were all perfectly safe.

Me and Sister #1

One cannot go to the Wal-Mart capital of the world without visiting a Wal-Mart, and since we needed a cake anyway,  we found one shortly after renting the car and leaving the airport.  Two of us were in charge of getting the cake, and the other two found snacks and drinks for the trip (by the way, none of us was drinking alcohol – more on this later).  The cake had a nice “Happy Birthday Daddy” written on it, and off we went to the check stand. 

The checker:  How do you pronounce that name?
[Long pause]
Sister #2:  Uh, daddy?

Of course we were already cracking ourselves up in the car, and this was just more fuel for the flame.

Incidentally, fuel prices there are crazy low.


In due course we arrived at the B&B where we would be staying in the main house for the weekend.  Our host welcomed us (although he wondered aloud why we had brought him a cake), and showed us the first set of rooms, which were a little smallish right off the dining room.  When showing us the second room, which was a large suite, he seemed to question the fact that we each wanted our own beds (we’re sisters, not weirdos).  We confirmed this was, in fact, true.  The suite had a bed which was a little larger than a double, and ….

Innkeep:  [In a Forrest Gump voice, for real] This is the pull out bed 
[indicating a sofa bed], but I couldn’t even tell you if it has sheets on or not.
Me:  Well, if you can’t tell us, we certainly can’t tell you.

I snagged one of the smaller rooms off the dining area with the bigger bed, and marched in with my luggage to unpack a bit and freshen up before proceeding on to Dad’s.  Imagine my surprise when I found someone’s clothes hanging in the closet.  A couple of men’s outfits, a pair of swim trunks, and some work boots.  There was also an old stuffed chair in the corner, with some more men’s clothes draped over its back.  




I was creeped out by this until

Sister #4:  Carolyn, you should come in here and see this.
Me:  [Thinking she could have nothing to compare to someone’s old 
clothes left in her room as I did] – Sure, here I come.
[Into her room across the hall, where she was indicating 
a pair of women’s underwear sitting on the little shelf on the wall.]
Sister #4 and Me:  Eeeeeeewww!

 Sister #4 and me, prior to the underwear incident, little knowing what lay in wait.

For what it’s worth, they appeared to be brand new, but still.  Sister #4 delicately hung them up on the clothes pegs so the innkeep would be sure to see them (and I knew that if I didn’t start drinking then, I could very probably quit altogether).

The towels were crap, my sheets were clean but stained, and the shower head fell off twice while I was showering the next day (and not because the water pressure was too high, I’m here to tell you), but the scenery was pretty nice and there were geese with goslings, miniature horses, potbelly pigs and two mules.  Too bad none of us sisters is named Sarah.  I also noticed a magnet on the refrigerator which said “A dull woman keeps an immaculate house.”   I was not surprised to discover that no woman, dull or otherwise, lived there.





Anyway, back to day one.  We all met back at the rental car and piled in to head over to Dad’s.  On the way, we managed to hit a pot hole and flatten a tire.  I turn to Sister #4 and say, “Call Joe,”  her husband, who is back in Las Vegas but great about coming out to help her when she needs it.  Heck, he even fills up her gas tank for her WHEN SHE IS PERFECTLY HEALTHY AND CAPABLE, but that’s another blog.  Anyway, thank heaven god loves Sister #1 or who knows what could have happened.

We all laugh, then limp our way to a little nursery on a side road.  Who am I kidding – EVERYTHING was a side road -  and it’s late Friday and nothing is open.   Sister #4 rolls down her window and yells, “Help!  Help!”  Haha – what a cutup!  We pull out the spare and jack, and Sister #1 starts reading the owner’s manual to figure out where to place the jack, while Sister #2 loosens the lug nuts.  



I stand there looking pensive, and Sister #4 is clearly taking a picture, when a young man in a little white car drove by, waved and stopped.  He popped out of his car to help us, just like a young gentleman should.  Here's our hero:


He, too, had an accent, but it wasn't quite Forrest.  A really nice young man.


He was highly amused that we were reading the owner’s manual to figure out how to change a tire, and he had no qualms about squatting down on the gravel road (in bare feet), scraping his knuckles along said gravel while jacking up the car.    He told us that he and some friends had been watching television when a commercial for Sonic came on and they decided he should make a shake run (otherwise, who knows when someone would have come down that road, despite god’s love of Sister #1?). 

Young man:  You set the parking break, right?
Sister #2:  Yes, we did.  See, we know how to HAVE a flat tire, 
we just don’t know how to FIX one.

I managed to press a measly $10.00 on the young man when he had finished (this, in addition to looking pensive, was my contribution to the event) although he tried many times to refuse it, and we finally were off to see Dad and JoBess.

Thank you, Sonic, for being in Greer's Ferry and for advertising your shakes so effectively.

I don’t even remember what time we arrived, but JoBess had set out a lovely cold buffet for us, and we had a very nice visit in what little time was left before we were dead on our feet (the salmon mousse was so delicious I ate it every day until we left and then finagled the recipe from JoBess.  I figure with each little piece I had eaten added together, I ate every bit of that mousse except the tail portion of the mold).  

Dad has lost a lot of weight, so his gaunt appearance was disconcerting for all of us.  Sister #1 had a video of a concert of her number one son she wanted our father to see, and Sister #2 put it on the desktop of his computer for his ease of use, but needed his password.  I advised her to change his password to “eat a sandwich” to serve as a reminder to him.  Who knew any of us would ever have that problem?  (On day two, Dad wore a sweatshirt that said he had the body of a god: Buddha.   What a riot!)

Driving around my area of Oregon at night is black as pitch, but it’s nothing compared to our drive back to the B&B.  Kudos to Sister #2 for doing the driving and to Sister #1 for navigating.  There are no roads in a straight line, by the way – I mean heaven forbid the road crew would have to cut down some trees to avoid the curls and slight rights and lefts involved in driving back there, because there were only a gazillion trees on the ride.  Sister #4 and I looked at the fireflies, and we arrived safely back at the B&B that night – because god loves Sister #1, I’m sure.

On the morning of our second day, Sister #4 and I met up on the front porch waiting for numbers 1 and 2 to wake up, and the donkeys nearby raised quite a racket.   The B&B also has two private cabins, by the way, one of which we could see from the porch, and very near the donkey corral/pen/whatever.  Sister #4 and I remarked that, underwear notwithstanding, we were lucky not to be staying in that cabin in case those donkeys let loose while we were trying to sleep, when

Sister #2 [emerging from the hallway]: Did anyone else hear those 
damned jackasses go off in the middle of the night?  
Jeez!  And those bullfrogs!  They never shut up!

We wanted to get to Dad’s as soon as we could so we had more time to spend with him on this short visit, so we took off and had a wonderful time over there, some of us going so far as to ingest more salmon mousse.  JoBess’s son (a truly funny man) came out to join us for dinner, and we headed to the place where we had reservations, only to find a sign in the door saying the restaurant was closed until May 10.  JoBess is certain there was a catastrophe, a sentiment shared by our innkeep when we told him the next day that the restaurant had been closed, so we hope everyone involved is all right.  We had dinner somewhere else, and it was quite nice.  It occurred to me that since I wasn’t drinking alcohol, I was drinking enough decaf coffee to be at an AA meeting.

After dinner, we returned to the house where we had some of Dad’s how-do-you-pronounce-that-name cake, and a coconut cake made by a local friend of JoBess.  They both looked beautiful but I had to forego a taste so as to make up for the salmon mousse I continued to hoover up.  I’m told they were delicious.




The third day was the day we were returning to Las Vegas, so it was a bit more somber at Dad’s, although we enjoyed the time we had left before leaving for the airport.  Some crazy fool passing us on a two-lane side road (see?) nearly hit an oncoming vehicle, and could have seriously hurt us but for god’s love of Sister #1, but we made it back to the airport in four pieces.

I’m very glad I made the trip, even though I still have a two-day drive back home, and it was nice to spend time with my sisters (by the way, every time I said it on this trip, I said it like Bette Midler did in Hocus Pocus:  “Sisssstaaaaaahhhssssss????”  which I thought was hilarious).   I especially am glad to have had this visit with my father and JoBess, who was very gracious to us.   Here are some pics of us from that last day:






JoBess, thank you for your gracious hospitality and the salmon mousse (and recipe).  It was very kind of you to allow us to descend upon you all at once that way, and you never complained.  I want you to know I appreciate it and you.

Dad, I love you very much and promise to stay in better touch.  I know you love me, too and I’m glad you enjoyed our visit.  You’re the best dad a girl could ever ask for and I’ll never forget all you’ve done for me,




and please:  Eat a sandwich.