I BELIEVE IN SKYPE

Three days ago I sent an email to Belinda regarding a future visit to the Philippines, some specific arrival and departure dates, and some of the travel details involved. Apparently, we had been thinking of totally different visit dates. So within a period of about ten minutes Belinda shot me four separate email messages. They had a tone of urgency about them.

She expressed that she thought I was coming on a different date than I mentioned. She asked me to get on Yahoo Messenger so we could chat. But I had already uninstalled Yahoo Messenger because “chatting” really means “typing” and I am not all that fast at typing. I get frustrated when I’m typing an answer to a question and the person I’m “chatting” with is already asking me three or four additional questions. I just can’t keep up. So I uninstalled the program.

Then Belinda said that I “really need to get Skype.” She said they are on it all day and we could talk free whenever we want. So, I submitted to her wisdom, downloaded Skype, and within minutes we were talking to each other using our real voices! None of this typing stuff.

It was the first time I had heard Belinda’s voice in over two years!

.

Not only that, but they had a web cam hooked up to their computer, so I could see her, I could see Ally, I could see all the blank spaces in Ally’s mouth where her teeth used to be, I could see out their window at their neighbor’s house, I could see their beautiful mountainous horizon, and I could see some guy on a ladder working on their ceiling. Josh was out of the house, Daisy was downstairs in school, and Neo was taking a nap, so I couldn’t see them.

So yesterday I went to the store and bought myself a web cam. I thought it would be a good idea for them to see how quickly I am aging. That way they won’t go into shock when they see me at the Cagayan De Oro airport in a few months.

Now we can talk with each other and watch each other growing old whenever we want.

I believe in Skype.

The first time I used Skype was right after I downloaded it three days ago. I didn’t have a web cam at the time, but I had a headset.

Yesterday I bought a web cam and called again less than an hour ago. It was 4:30 p.m. here on Friday and it was 7:30 a.m. there on Saturday. I took this photo of my laptop screen with Daisy coaching Neo to say “Papa”. He did quite well. Daisy is a good coach.

Daisy held the microphone for Neo.

Before I hung up, Ally got out of bed and joined the conversation.

BEYOND PUMPKINS

My annual pumpkin patch trip to Beaverton last weekend was about pumpkins. But it was more than that.

The night before we ventured out to the pumpkin patch, we first needed to sit down and find out what happened to four little kittens.

Then the next morning we drove to the pumpkin patch. Naomi attended last year, held and carried in a pink blanket, but this year she was able to get around using her own two legs.


The barnyard crowd got a little older since last year.

In addition to the pumpkin patch and the corn maze, the slides were a big hit.

We all got a bit distracted during the outing, however, by some superhero who kept flying around through the air.

Those among us with strong arms were able to lift two pumpkins at the same time!



Those who were not strong enough to lift, bit off stems instead. It is not clear in this photo, but part of the stem is connected to the pumpkin and part of the stem is separated from the pumpkin and connected to somebody’s teeth.





Pumpkin patches make great backdrops for family photos.

Silas asked if he could take some pictures. He took one of Papa and then took one of his dad and sister with Papa.

And, of course, you can’t finish the day without some pumpkin bowling.



After we returned home, we were treated to a seminar given by Naomi on the subject of “How to Stop Biting Your Fingernails”. Step one in breaking the habit is to find an alternative to biting your fingernails. Considering the possible options, a big toe on the right foot is chosen.



Step 2: After selecting the proper toe as a fingernail substitute, bring that toe to the mouth.

Step 3: Start chewing.

Step 4: Continue chewing

Step 5: After you get bored with chewing, express your boredom with a yawn.

Never photograph your right eye if your left eye is more photogenic.

Just because the inside of a pumpkin doesn’t smell very good . . .

. . .doesn’t mean is doesn’t taste good.

Have you ever noticed that serious-looking people create serious-looking jack-o-lanterns?

And grinning people create grinning jack-o-lanterns?

And cute little girls create. . .

Hey, wait a minute! Where did she come from?

TOOTH FAIRY ECONOMICS

In only one generation, the cost of doing business for The Tooth Fairy has quadrupled!

In 1982, The Tooth Fairy left a quarter under the pillows of happy tooth losers.

Then came 1984.

Then came 1985.

Then came 1988.

Then came 2005.

Then came 2006.

Then came 2007.

Then came summer, 2008.

And just last week, Silas lost his first tooth and placed it under his pillow.

Much to his surprise and to the surprise of his mother, he found ONE DOLLAR under his pillow the next morning!

IT'S A SMALL WORLD

It’s a small world after all,
It’s a small world after all,
It’s a small world after all,
It’s a small, small world!

A couple of weeks ago at work, we had just finished treating our morning patients and it was time to break for lunch. Cindy, Katie and I all had lunch from noon to 1:00 p.m. and we walked toward the cafeteria together.

It was a warm, sunny day, so we decided to see if one of the few outdoor tables was available. They were all taken. At one of those tables, however, sat the lab technician from the chemotherapy department. We had met Doug only a couple of months earlier and asked him if we could join him for lunch.

So, the four of us began talking about different places we’ve lived and worked and Doug mentioned an area in central California known as “the delta”. It is called “the delta” because that region contains over 1000 miles of inland waterways. Having lived in Stockton and Sacramento, I was familiar with that area.

Then Doug mentioned a little town that almost nobody has ever heard of, a town called Walnut Grove. I have been to Walnut Grove many times.

So I asked Doug, “Have you ever seen a restaurant in Walnut Grove called Wimpy’s?”

Doug answered, “Yes.”

Then I said, “My dad lives in a houseboat at the marina located next to Wimpy’s restaurant.”

Doug looked at me contemplatively, he paused, and then he asked, “Is your dad’s name ‘Wendell’?”

I was stunned! Cindy and Katie sat speechless.

For several years, Doug and his wife lived in an RV which was parked near the place where my dad’s houseboat has been docked for about 25 years or so. Now Doug lives in Medford and works about ten steps from where I work.

When I asked Doug how he would describe my dad, he replied “Your dad is delightful.”

This photo was taken today in Doug’s lab, located adjacent to the radiation therapy department where I work.

REMINISCING

With Debra and Ashley gone for the weekend at a ladies retreat, I’ve been spending part of the day looking through old photo albums and remembering things from the good old days. Good old days?

While in college, I purchased a 1959 Ford Fairlane for $200 from a friend of my brother Dean’s. I also rented a room in a house in downtown Sacramento for $40 a month while attending school in Davis, about 15 miles away. One morning, as I was driving my Ford Fairlane through an intersection on my way to school, I was hit broadside by another vehicle. Initially, I did not know I was hit.

I had been following an 18-wheeler, which had blocked my view of an upcoming traffic light. He must have crossed the intersection on a yellow light, and I’m guessing it turned red by the time I entered the intersection. The truck blocked my view of the light. I never saw it.

Suddenly, I felt an impact and a tightness around my waist. I unbuckled my seatbelt to relieve the pressure around my waist and I immediately passed out. When I regained consciousness, I was lying on the front seat of my car, my head hanging out the passenger door. I remember spitting on the street and seeing blood. I remember hearing a baby crying. I remember hearing sirens approaching. As I was helped into an ambulance, I remember seeing and hearing people cursing at me.

I had caused an accident. I ran a red light and was struck on the driver’s side of my car by another vehicle, which was crossing the same intersection from my left. He had a green light. The impact pushed me out of the door on the passenger’s side and knocked me unconscious.

Nobody was seriously injured. I was ticketed for running a red light and the other party accepted a $1500 out-of-court settlement for the expenses I caused them. In 1971, that was a ton of money. I was in my third year of college and had little money and was driving without insurance. Back then, a minor was anyone under 21 years old. I was a minor for about another three weeks at the time of the accident, so my father was legally responsible for the $1500 settlement. He was not too happy.

I broke the bones in my left shoulder, leaving several loose bone fragments in my shoulder, and I needed to wear a shoulder brace for several months. During that time the Vietnam War was still going strong and the draft lottery system had begun. My lottery number was 28 out of 365 - not a good number for someone who did not want to go to Vietnam. I was among the first to board an Army bus from Sacramento to Oakland for a physical exam at the Induction Center. I took an x-ray film with me.

The physician performing my exam hung the film on a lighted view box, noticed the bone fragments in my left shoulder, and said, “You’re not going”. I was classified 4-F, physically unqualified for military service.

Dean and I each rented a room in the same house built in the 1880’s. Dean took this photo of me sitting on the hood of my 1959 Ford Fairlane in a parking lot behind the house.

At the time of this accident, March 9, 1971, a reporter from the local newspaper, The Sacramento Bee, was instantly on the scene. In this clipping you can see a police officer helping the innocent victims of the crash I had just caused. (Clicking the photo sometimes makes it bigger). You can also see someone holding a blanketed baby, which was also involved in the accident. The force of the other car opened the passenger door of my Ford Fairlane. I was still unconscious when this photo was taken. You can see my right hand and the left side of my face hanging out the passenger side of the car.

A PERFECT WAY TO START THE DAY

Eight days ago I picked up Josh from the airport. While we were enjoying our fine dining experience together at Subway, Josh handed me a gift. It was a small gift wrapped in a small plastic bag. It was coffee. But it wasn’t just plain old ordinary coffee. It was coffee grown and ground by the local folks in his current hometown of Cagayan De Oro on the island of Mindanao. Maybe it was grinded by them. I’m not sure. Grinded or ground. Either way, they crushed it up into tiny little particles so that it mixes well with water to make a drinkable cup of coffee.

Now, I’ve had some pretty tasty coffee in my life. I’ve sipped French Roast, Kona, Sumatra, Colombian, Arabica and Italian Roast. I’ve even had the privilege from time to time to savor a cup of Folgers. But the stuff Josh gave me is perhaps the tastiest stuff I’ve ever allowed to warm my tender palate. It’s Mmmm, Mmmm, good! It’s even more Mmmm, Mmmm, good than Campbell’s Soup! And that is saying a lot!

So this morning, for only the third time since last weekend, I indulged in another cup of coffee from Cagayan De Oro. First, I retrieved the little bag from its hiding place deep in a kitchen cupboard. Then I carefully measured a scoop, just the right amount (You may notice as I am scooping the coffee, just how well my injured thumbnail is healing). Then I placed that scoop in the filter of a single-cup coffee maker. Then I added water. Then I placed my very favorite, custom-made, birthday-gift-from-Debra, made-in-2004 coffee mug under the filter. Then I pressed the “on” button.

Once the coffee maker quit dripping, I gently carried the full mug to a comfortable recliner, kicked up my feet, and sipped. And then I sipped some more. Finally, I sipped one last time. Then it was all gone. Ahhh! What a perfect way to start the day!

But, unfortunately, I can’t spend the entire day sitting back and sipping coffee. Debra and Ashley are attending a ladies retreat with some other females from church this weekend, leaving me alone, and I have a very busy day today while they are gone. I still need to spend some quality time sitting in the hot tub. I still have a movie I need to watch. I still need to prepare my bed for my upcoming afternoon nap. I’m exhausted just thinking about all I need to do today.

Maybe I need another cup of coffee.