Monday, February 23, 2015

Maps get more difficult with age.

Had I known that driving would become such a pain, I would have never learned to do it! Sure, it feels great getting around in and about your neighborhood, running off to the mall, the restaurants, meeting friends at a museum. But, navigating in a strange city shows you just how old you've become.

The above is a map of Portland. Oregon.  On the left of the river was our motel, and on the right, the college our grandchild attends. We visited her for a weekend soon after she moved in her dorm, and had planned to drive her to the area where our hotel was for some fancy dining.

It didn't work out like that at all. We, Hubby and I kept getting lost each time we tried to catch a bridge and go across. Each time. As if we had never been to Portland. In fact, we had been to Portland many times, staying at the same hotel and frequenting the same downtown neighborhood where we enjoyed dining and shopping and people watching.  We had not attempted to travel to other parts, though. And that experience, finding the right bridge and getting off at the right exit, was way too much for our nerves.

Thank God our grandchild had a good sense of direction. She located the map on her iphone and helped us navigate back and forth  whenever she was with us.

Saturday, February 7, 2015

Waiting for the next storm.

My husband is a good sport, indulging me in so many ways, even posing for this picture the day before the first February storm hit town. No, you don't hear about these Northwestern storms in the news  because though they are predictably harsh and fierce, cutting trees down, toppling sheds not pinned down, and eliminating any need to rake the lawn and driveway, they arrive with assurance and declaration after traveling for miles in the Pacific. Since few of us live on this coast, no need to worry anybody else.

This last week we had two powerful storms hitting us at 75-100 miles per hour, each lasting a few days at a time, pelting us with ferocious rain and debris to keep the hardiest of folks indoor. After such storms, the road crews are busy clearing roadways and repairing roads. We have been running errands with the full knowledge that we'd be crossing swollen rivers and creeks dangerously close to spill out on the main road, forcing us all to make hasty retreats.

In the past, before we were seniors, and before regulations changed, our pharmacist would provide us with extra meds during winter months for just such disturbances. Now, it is not easy to get extra meds for possible bad weather days.

Yesterday, between storms, we rushed out for emergency runs to get meds and groceries and were fortunate enough to make there and back without any incidences. Today, after last night's new storm, we are not sure those rivers are minding their confines. One of these days, I need to acquaint my readers with the vagaries of keeping house on such a frontier.

One would expect all kinds of life and death emergencies in these settings.
Animals seem to know these things and huddle low and out of reach. I have never seen cows or lambs battered around during these storms.

We rarely lose electricity, until yesterday, just for a half hour or so in the middle of the night; it was on when we got up and wouldn't have noticed it except for the clocks not being aligned. The bigger problem is finding out that some animal looking for warmth or shelter during such storms has found warmth under the car hood.

And so, as we canvas the property after each storm, fixing this drain, clearing debris, we also check under the car hood, or brush, hoping to rescue those caught unaware.

Hubby repairing a drainage pipe to stop further water damage to the roof.