Our box on wheels is finally put back together.  Ozone machines are out and we are moving out of the Inn and back into the LilyPad in the morning.  We took Ribbit in for a complete clean out and when I drove up, a huge 200 pound Millie colored Mastiff came running up to the car and stuck his huge head into the window for me to pet.  When I got out, he greeted me with a slimy nudge and glued himself to me until one of the workers pulled him off saying I was in danger of being given a big dog hug.   After we left, we went back to the Inn to pack.  When we returned to pick up Ribbit, all dog hairs and nose art were gone.  The Mastiff came up and slimed my leg, laying down at my feet and chewing his huge rawhide bone until we got up to leave.  It was hard not to tear up seeing that sweet giant face.

Breakfast was a quick meal of left overs before moving back into the LilyPad, now back together but still needing a thorough wipe down.   Upon leaving the Inn, Shirley wished us good luck, safe journey and hurry back.   When we arrived back at RV Corral, John took out all our stashed bags and boxes from their storage office and I began putting things back in place.  Both of us iced our backs most of the night.  Morning is going to bring all over soreness.

Next morning the new tires were mounted and we said our final farewells to Eugene, the city where we have been kept hostage for the last eight weeks, never to set foot, paws or wheels in again for the entire length of our lives.  A short stop overnight in Portland for some family time visiting Kenny, Deborah and Dot (cats and chickens too) then in the morning, off to Seattle.  Stopping to fill up on diesel we experienced the survival of the fittest, bird style.  Blackbirds were perched on the top of the station’s building waiting for a rig to finish filling.  When the rig pulled up and the driver got out to pay, the birds flew up to the front of each rig and pecked off anything moving.  When our turn came, we were greeted by two, fighting over our supreme choice of squished bugs.  Guess our slow pace leaves the bugs in better shape than the faster rigs.

Linn County, our pathway out of Eugene, is the grass capital of the country.  Some of the fields are just fenced, some are fenced with attractive signs naming the grass growing inside.  We passed miles of fields with strange named grass all being left going to seed for sale.  After the flat lands the hills picked up again and continued until we reached Washington state.  Passing over all the rivers from TX on we saw some magnificent bridges…until Washington.  So far they have had the most uninteresting, dull structures.  They look like train track bridges.

Alligators, aptly named pieces of rig tire tread stripped off and flung everywhere across highways, are a danger that travels with you along all roads no matter what the state.  To hit one is to take the chance of smashing the front of your rig and causing the wheel to be twisted out of your hands.  The road we travel on through to Portland has dozens of giant tree haulers crisscrossing across the roadways taking their multiple ton loads to places like Zip-O-Log Mill in Eugene.  Alligators splattered on both sides of the road, some flung into the lane and when seen we call out “alligator” to keep from running them over.  Just shy of Portland, we saw a dead goose on the side of the road.  Apparently they are not as revered when they wander onto the freeway as they are on the inner city roads of Eugene.  While searching the road for alligators we heard a loud startling THUNK and saw a shadow fly up over the rig.  Pulling over on the side of the freeway we contemplated what might have happened to the front of the LilyPad being hit with something the size of a goose…John secretly celebrating the demise of one messy pooping machine.  We found nothing damaged but began looking up as well as down for the rest of the day.

Arrived at Lake Pleasant RV Park in the early pre-mother’s day evening, planning to stay the next day to visit Seattle before moving on.

Awakened again by the stomping of little monster feet, this time I counted, 48 times back and forth over our heads and several jumps off the couch onto the floor starting at 8:00 am. I spoke to the front desk again when we left for breakfast. Nothing they can do but move us.  After seven weeks of living here, it would take hours. John walked up to see if it was as loud from the hall and discovered that there are two sets of feet and just as loud in the hall. Twice the noise experience all directly over our heads. Have considered a trip upstairs to tell this guy that pay back is a female dog and his time will come. Guessing that if I do, he is so clueless that my point would be missed when the same happens to him in the future. Saturday Market is again in full swing and we plan to escape from our room and enjoy the peace and quiet of the bustling market just after we take KatieBug for her daily dog park trek.

Late afternoon and temporarily quiet above our heads as the feet and parent are gone, we spent time on the internet looking up things we want to do in Alaska. It is amazing how much activity there is in the summer. It does appear to be easier squeezing in multiple adventures when the daytime sun shines for 18 to 20 hours over dual summer months. Silently thanking Bob Tiffin for having the foresight to add blackout shades to his rigs. They will come in handy when our internal clocks say bed time, but the sun is still out at 10pm.

Morning has broken, along with peaceful nighttime silence and our overhead feet are up and running. No Sunday morning sleep in for us. Off to breakfast with hopes for multiple noisy feet and parent departures in the near future. The rest of the day spent shopping, planning for our move back into Lilypad and taking stock of all our accumulations since living in our temporary home at the Inn. A quick donation run, cooking for KatieBug and relaxing in the first quiet hours we have enjoyed since the end of last week.

Monday morning 8:00 am and blessedly quiet. Trip to the RV to check status and pick up our rental car while Ribbit gets a thorough cleaning inside and out in the morning. Last physical remembrances of Millie, her nose art on the back window, will be gone by tomorrows day end. Our move back in date has almost arrived and we are ready to get back on the road headed towards Alaska.

Before I forget…John and I would love to hear from family and friends. Comments, questions, suggestions or whatever else you care to send is as easy as a click of your mouse, top left corner under the picture of our LilyPad and will reach us post haste.

Our daily trip to the RV revealed it is right on schedule, for NEXT week.  I’m doing the “told you so” dance in-between fuming about the inconvenience and frustration.  It is good to be positive but past experience should have demonstrated that our snail man supervisor was not going to turn into super speedo overnight.  Laundry, movie and night-night once again in Eugene for the 7^th week in a row.

Morning breakfast of melt-in-your-mouth Swedish pancakes at The Original Pancake House after a rude awakening from  little monster feet stomping across the floor and throwing himself down on the floor above our head, nonstop from 6:00 am through 7:30.  Front desk refuses to respond…it’s not quiet time.

Set out to search for local color and heard about Pre’s Rock, located half way up the mountain on the blind curve of a narrow road.   We reached the large boulder that marked the spot where the local hero lost his life in a car crash.  Steven Roland “Pre” Prefontaine was an American middle and long-distance runner who competed in the 1972 Olympics.  He once held the American record in the seven distance track events from the 2,000 meters to the 10,000 meters.  He was born in Coos Bay Oregon in 1951 and died in Eugene in 1975.  The roadside boulder marks the spot of the shrine to the memory of this historic Oregon runner and is a place of reflection, inspiration and respect to runners from all over.  The grade going up the hill is steep but the view from the top is awe inspiring.

Driving in Eugene is more difficult than driving in New York City.  Bikes, pedestrians and the odd driving directions on signs can leave your head spinning.  You have to look twice and wonder, really?  And this is what you consider safe?

Morning came and little monster continues his 6:00am race track back and forth over our heads many dozens of times an hour.  Guessing the dad is deaf or clueless and lacking in parenting skills.   I’ve been whispering under my breath “must get out of here for the sake of our sanity” but my sanity seems to be more at risk than John’s.    Not sure a trip to check in on our RV and see it still unfinished will be our saving grace.   Hurrying out the door for a KatieBug visit to see her buddies at the local dog park and then the long hesitant trip to the RV to see the progress.

Slowly driving up to the back enclosed repair area, John stretching his neck to see if our slide was still sitting on the garage floor…holding our breath…and… it is in!  At this point we should be jumping in the air and shouting with joy except the wires are still splayed out on the floor, they broke one of the slide boards, the trim is still all over the floor, so much trash is sitting around that you can’t see the newly cleaned rug…and I’m trying hard to keep it together.  Along with finding out that it will probably be ready Wednesday, we find out that our tool platform, attached to the back of the RV, is unstable.  There is a possibility that it could break off, taking our car with it.  Nope, can’t put what I’m thinking down on paper.

The Eugene Marathon started early and was already in full trot when we took KatieBug to the dog park.   Oregon University’s Duck’s percussion band was playing in front of the dog park, runners going down the front and side and it sounded like the Woodlands  Highlander’s bagpipe corps was serenading runners from somewhere in the distance.  We watched the race while we walked KatieBug around the park and, not once, did we see a big foot among the runners.

Lunch at a local Café, John got a Blond Bomb Shell but nothing like the taste of the same named beer at Southern Star Brewery in Conroe where we have spent many relaxing hours sipping hops on hot summer Saturday afternoons.  I don’t carry a purse anymore so John bought himself a “murse” (man purse) to carry our stuff.  Finally, John gets to be the pack horse instead of me!

Took my first ride on my new bike today.  John and I rode a few miles down the Willamette River bike and hike trail.  After almost 8 years, I had a little trouble getting used to pedaling and sitting comfortably on a bike seat.  I didn’t fall off or run into anything so I consider the ride a success.  Baby steps.

A visit to the RV this morning to see if the parts due Monday actually came.  They are here but the estimate is still Friday at best.  After they finish, they still need to clean the multiple inches of dust and grease off counters, floors and everything left sitting out.  Then we need to haul back everything we took out of the bedroom.  We need to have the new tires put on here in Oregon…no sales tax so it’s like getting one tire free…then get everything all sorted out before we leave for Seattle to have the radiator flushed.  We are planning to take a few days off road traveling to enjoy Seattle, but that’s too far in the future to know for sure if we have the time.

Our geese neighbors now have goslings and they scurry down the same paths mom and dad did when we first arrived over a month ago.  The lake is full of winged activity and the honks of parents when someone or something gets too close can be heard even from our second floor temporary quarters.

Another day of vegetative TV watching after a visit to a new dog park, once a private horse farm.  After a few seconds of sitting, the horse flies found me so I walked the paths until I found KatieBug and John still exploring the huge new territory.

We drove to Marathon Prevost in Coburn and took a drive in an older 45 foot non-slide.  Wow, what a smooth quiet ride!  With all the stuff I’ve smooshed into the Lilypad, we won’t fit in this rolling box until we shed some “stuff” but it might be worth the shedding of more just to get this floating-on-air ride.  We won’t be changing until we return from Alaska but it will be in the back of our minds as we bounce along those Canadian and Alaskan roads on the way up.

Another visit to the RV with both of us feeling much relief that progress is being made.  We stopped to talk with the full time RVing couple that purchased the new Allegro Bus that was in make-ready next to our Lilypad for the last 3 weeks.  The four of us speaking of meeting up next year at the Tiffin Quartzsite Arizona Rally and agreeing that Bob Tiffin runs a great company.

John and I have been looking into securing our computer activities when connected to public networks.  Securing public connections would cut down on our costs as there are many free WiFi spots available along our travel path.  While searching for programs, I had to concentrate as the lingo can be somewhat of a mystery.  Browser…that one I know.  But running the browser in a sandbox in the cloud…well, that was a little awkward to wrap my head around.  We now have Hotspot Shield so our files are being encrypted like a firewall.   Yep, I can follow that.

Another daybreak peeking through wispy clouds turning a cool night into a pleasant day for outdoor explorations.   Not happening the first part of the day as John and I have RV repair paperwork to complete.  We will sit inside tapping away on computers making lists, compiling information and totals of our living costs for the last 6 week through most of the day.   It is near the end of the week and a trip to the RV revealed that several finishing parts ordered last week have not arrived.  Somehow I knew it would be delayed.  Our snail’s pace service supervisor keeps complaining about how overworked he is, obviously forgetting that we are paying for this service…his slow progress is resulting in our lives being postponed for almost six weeks!  Not an impressive response from him considering, at our age, time is a precious commodity.

Fighting with an angry horse fly throughout our overly fatty steak dinner at a local country club restaurant ended our evening.  A disappointing replacement for the Woodlands Country Club dining experience.  Back to the Inn for our nightly dark chocolate square and a good night walk with KatieBug.

The Inn is full this morning.  Crowds from the major race, foot not bike, are settling in for Sunday’s race.   I wrote to my Bestie and told her we had a big foot race coming through our area Sunday morning.  She wrote back and asked how Eugene was able to get Big Foot to race and how many were scheduled to show up.  Oops…must remember not to write emails in the wee hours of the morning.  Perhaps reading them the next day before pressing “send” would help.   Along with the race crowd, a Ducks Spring football game was being played and the stadium is right behind our Inn.  Makes for really crowded streets.  Those orange cones are directing the overflowing amount of Subaru’s into a compressed one lane, down from three.   A real pain in the rear getting around town but oh what a fabulous people watching opportunity.  Duck supporters are wildly devoted and dress up to the extreme.

Back at the Inn there are teens everywhere…sunning themselves in the park, on the parking lot blacktop and, after hours, dashing up and down the halls of the Inn.  For the first time since our arrival, the pool is at max capacity and the halls are full of chatty female activity.

Outside our window the trees have gone from bare branches to a full green explosion.  We have been here so long, the cleaning people and maintenance man know us and the front desk lady, Shirley, knows us by our first names.

An early rising and a short trip to our regular breakfast spot, The Glenwood.  After an extended breakfast discussing what our next travel stop will be, we headed over to Saturday Market to do a little Eugene crazy character surveillance.  We were not disappointed. The drum corps was out in full force and there was a make-shift half time drum duo.  We snaked our way through old hairy hippies, leather armored bikers, raggedy derelicts perched on steps, platted hair  Rastafarians and every possible type of human and canine Eugenian imaginable.

Back to the Inn to relax and watch mindless TV programs before finishing off the day with a trip to VooDoo Doughnuts and a walk around town before a KatieBug potty walk and lights out.

Another escape, this time to Portland.  We are feeling the need for a change of scenery.  Plans are to visit cousins Kenny, Deborah and Dot their furry kid…sorry Deborah but cats only count as houseguests for me…too much attitude and independence.  Our RV is finally mold free and ready to be pieced back together.  They say it will be ready the end of this week.   Nope, just don’t’ see that happening

Arrived in Portland for our stay at another La Quinta.  A bit off the beaten path, in fact, a scary kind of area.  Totally surrounded by industrial businesses and several large fuel storage tanks about a half block away.   Newly remodeled so the inside halls and rooms were nice and it looked safe enough once inside the building.   The first room smelled so strong of chemical cover-up scents that my immediate headache forced us to request another room.  As they just happened to have another pet friendly room on the second floor, we moved and settled in.  It was quiet and just across the hall from the morning breakfast room so coffee was immediate upon waking.

We drove to my cousin’s place of work and, wouldn’t you know it, he works at a bike shop!  The perfect new bike for John was sure to be inside.  His old bike did not fit his new way of life so Kenny helped him find a bike that was less road, more general transportation.  John took it for a spin and came back all smiles.  He finally had his new bike.  After adding a few “toys“ and a few safety items to the base bike, we left to explore Portland.

A visit to a small dog park, a few driving circles around areas of interest, a casual walk through the Saturday Market with KatieBug, Gyro and hummus lunch for all,  then a stop to pick up a Biria bike for me.  It’s a little strange looking but it doesn’t bother my back when I step over it to get on and it rides great.  By the time we loaded the bike on, night had snuck up on us and it was time for dinner.   We met up with our cousins, minus Dot and cats, for dinner at a great little wood fired pizza place and some much needed social interaction with family before heading back to the Inn.

Morning came and we met our cousins for breakfast at a great local hole-in-the-wall made famous by Guy Fieri’s Diners, Drive-ins and Dives, Arleta Library Bakery & Café.  Lots of homemade bakery goodies and some great omelet offerings and we all chose something different.  Four thumps up.  Walking to the local dog park from Kenny and Deborah’s place with Dot and KatieBug allowed us all a bit more family time and the pups loved running all over visiting and socializing with other pups.

After the dog park, John and I drove to the Japanese Gardens in Washington Park.  What a fantastic park with oodles to do!  Among other things, a rose garden, golf course, bow and arrow practice area, several soccer fields, tennis courts, large arboretum, a Zoo, World Forestry Center and the Japanese Gardens.  We were amazed at how much ground this park covered.  Definitely will add Washington Park to our “to do” list for our next visit to Portland.

Our last morning was spent packing up for our trip home and then stopping at the bike shop to pick up the final products, our bikes and the little extras that make bike riding fun and safe.  Hugs to the family before we headed home.

A quick stop at Marathon RV’s built on Prevost, just to look, and then to our RV to pick up a few things, then home, dinner and sleep.

Early morning rise to check out the RV, still in pieces but moving along, then laundry and real life stuff before renting a movie and vegetating the rest of the evening.  KatieBug is enjoying her new Top Dog position and is now allowed to sit on the couch with us.  She is being a very good pup and is minding well.

Back at our unintentional home and rested, when morning came we decided to drive to Corvallis, an hour from Eugene, and spend the day walking around the downtown and waterway area enjoying the sunshine and beautiful weather.  An organic produce market was open along the waterway with many fresh veggie offerings and several folk and easy listening guitar players entertained the crowd.

Fantastic metal art sculptures on every corner…along with homeless on every corner begging with home made signs.  We passed one, most likely homeless, filthy woman sitting on a beautiful wood bench surrounded by landscaped blooms complaining about rich bitches everywhere not giving her a dime…cussing them all the while as they passed her by. Spewing foul language while sitting next to another lost soul, neither listening to one another, continuing their rant even after we walked to the end of the street and passed by again on the other side.

Unique small boutiques lined the streets of this wonderful old town and John bought another unnecessary covering for his head.  This one read “Raven Lunatic” with a picture of a huge raven.

Oregon is a strange state.  I am sure I could never live here.  The tip toe around attitude they have for the homeless and constantly trying to change laws to provide additional entitlements to these people anger me.  I see them smoking…really, you have money for smokes but not for food?  They stand at almost every corner holding signs and I know there are dozens of places for them to sleep and eat if they chose to follow the rules.  Most have ill trained dogs of a vicious nature, lots of pits, allowed to roam free, some unleashed even while they sleep in the parks and alleys.  I am not heartless.  I just don’t believe that public parks should be used as flop houses for the homeless while tax paying citizens who contribute to society are kept from enjoying them for safety reasons.  Eugene is going for a new ordinance to allow homeless to set up their tents in public parks for an unlimited amount of time.  Wow…is that nuts or what? What the Hell happened to the tax paying citizen’s rights!  I will now descend from my soap box…

One more adventure before we head back to Eugene and face the final weeks of mold remediation.  We headed to the pier for a whale watching trip.

Morning meal was a quick waffle and oatmeal at the Inn so we could pack up and be on time for our sea adventure.  Arrived early and sat on the docks enjoying the sunshine.  Just before boarding, a huge group of teens filed in, apparently our pay dirt as the boat does not go out with less than 15.  Their chaperones were young but promising they would keep the teens on their best behavior.

Our boat was large enough to instill confidence in its ability to carry us safely through the experience.  Still, the gigantic swells further out past the protective reef and the dark ominous clouds hugging the coastline brought up Deadliest Catch thoughts and knotted my insides.

Safety speech officially given by a Marine Naturalist, the on board “go to” person for questions, followed by the boat pulling out into the protected harbor and heading out to sea.  Just outside the harbor but still in the protective area of the man-made reefs, we dropped two crab traps after loading them with the soup parts of fish and being invited to kiss the head for good luck.  No one accepted the offer.  John and I headed for the top, being reminded by the captain that the highest forward part of the boat had the most movement.  Not wanting to miss anything, we clutched the cold wet rail and held on as the boat jostled us further out to sea.

Monstrous 8 to 10 foot swells rising up, peaking with a quick pause then a roller coaster ride down, the ocean spray splatting out from under us.  An exhilarating ride reminiscent of the Big Dipper, an old wooden roller coaster on the Santa Cruse Boardwalk that I rode as a teen.  Thoughts of warm gloves temporarily forgotten as we white knuckled it out to a spot of sun in the distance. I always ask for lower deck aft on cruise ships and this outing was a harsh reminder of why.  I haven’t been this close to panic and terror in several decades but the thrill was worth the fright.  With several pair of spy glasses scanning the horizon, we waited in anticipation for a whale sighting, all the while, being pelted with rain and violently bobbing up and down in the ocean.  Good thing John and I don’t get sea sick.

After what seemed like endless hours, minutes actually, the boat turned towards the protective reef.  John and I laughingly shared the fact that had we seen whales, neither of us would have been willing to let go of the rails to take pictures.

Back in calmer waters we were invited to help pull up the crab traps with discussions about Oregon crabbing, crab identification, trolled for microscopic plankton and saw it up close in the cabin, handled whale baleen and had a multitude of sea birds and tide pool creatures pointed out and discussed.  No whales spotted although several people searched the horizon for a chance to yell “there she blows”.

Back on shore we peeled off the wet, stopped at a local café for hot soup and then headed back to our unintentional second home, La Quinta Inn, Eugene.

Morning came once again and a visit to Dr. Newman, a compassionate vet at Bush Animal Hospital, and then there was one.   Whatever the cause, disease, accident or just wearing out, life ends and those still alive are left with holes in their hearts.  Time passes, pain eases and we embrace happy memories to push us through the loss.  I want to believe that Millie and Ash are together again.  The Bash Sisters, rattling the windows of doggy heaven as they charge headlong into a universe of fluffy cloud walls, both feeling young and healthy, pain and cancer free.  They will be forever in our hearts.

The next two days pass quietly without much activity apart from watching TV and hugging the pug.

One thing I wanted to mention about our travels…TripAdvisor has been an immeasurable source of valuable information on eateries and things to do.  The reviews are our safety net and we thank the thousands of people who write reviews so that we are able to make informed choices.

Buddha (and Oprah) say to attach a name to every furious thought.  We manage our emotions better when labeled.  OK…this is anger.  This is frustration.   This is pissed-off!  Nope, not any easier to manage.  Going to try moving away from the aggravation and see how that works.

Arrived in Newport, Oregon in the afternoon.  Rain is expected the entire weekend but no worries…it’s the escape, not the weather that is of concern.  This boredom of an unexpected extended stay in Eugene is wearing on my normally positive and patient self.  (yes, that was a joke)   Escaping to the beach will avail the ocean to Millie.  Running free to feel the sand under her paws and be the happy, happy, joy, joy pup she is when the sea air and salty spray breezes around her.  One more time, for old time sake, sweet old girl.  Enjoy the freedom.

Checked into the Inn, then all got back into the car to explore the immediate area.  Up over the monumental Yaquina Bay Bridge, another early 1900’s art deco bridge, that rainbows over Newport Bay just past our Inn.  We stopped at Don Davis Memorial Park, a veterans memorial park, taking the brick trail that wound down to the ocean.  John and the pups walked along the water’s edge until the rain picked up and we loaded back into the car and drove to Newport Bay Front for “to die for” Garlic Crab Soup and Brazilian Stew at Local Ocean before returning to the Inn and turning in for the night.

Beach in the morning and whales in the afternoon.  That was the plan when we began the day but stormy seas moved our whale trip into another day and a local event took its place.  The local paper advertised The Hatfield Marine Science’s annual science day, one day each year and we happen to be available, and all the classrooms were open to the public.   A delightful hands on exploration and feely touchy experience for the young and young at heart.  John and I sensed our way through tide pool inhabitants, fish skeleton’s, live crabs, tortoise friendly fishing nets, shells and ocean rocks and watched films of the robotic sea explorer’s journey a mile down under the ocean.  Up close and personal with volcano hydrothermal vents and oozing crimson lava quickly cooled by the frigid waters compassionately narrated by an oceanographer, questions patiently answered throughout the dialogue.   Before exiting, we walked back to the octopus in its habitat, which we were wise enough to get photos of before feeding time.

A lazy drive up the coast to Depot Bay for lunch and then followed the narrow one way bike road that hugged the coast back down to Newport.  Beautiful scenery, whale lookouts, hole-in-the-wall gift shops, 1930’s art deco bridge…all by the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea.

Morning walk by the sea with the pups, Newport Bay Front for breakfast at The Coffee House and a walk around the town admiring all the seafaring art on the sides of buildings.

Millie looked questioningly down below the docks at the California Sea Lions plopped on top of each other sun bathing.  Not sure if it was the smell or the barking that caught her attention.

The whale watching trip was postponed again so we took the pups to Historic Nye Beach, historic only for its age as no real architecture or land marks stood out.

Drove up the hill to Yaquina Head Lighthouse and chatted with three Oregon State grey whale researchers studying the sea for signs of gray whales, 15 counted as of the time we visited.  Mother’s and babies tend to come within the six mile radius of shore but in the fall, they travel further out.  The state park has a large interpretation center and an area along the beach that is filled with tide pools with information lining the easy access stairs and platforms on the way down.  Unluckily we happened along at high tide but the view from the lighthouse was amazing.

Dark clouds swirled with fluffy white and the sun shone through further out to sea making a brilliant white line running along the horizon.  Mesmerizing.  Before the sun went down we drove to Agate State Park and John took the pups out on the beach for a run.  Fresh fish dinner for us at Local Ocean then returning to the Inn to pack up and make ready for our departure late tomorrow morning.

Migraine materialized upon waking.  In light of everything that has happened over the previous five weeks, I wonder if the universe is screaming “did ya get the hint yet?”  I never thought the journey was ill planned and certainly not executed in haste.  ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­So is it God telling us that we don’t have the wisdom to know the difference?  Our current goal is to have the RV repaired in enough time to reach Alaska without driving 24/7.  All visits to relatives are sadly a no-go.  Retirement is not the free pass to no hassle living that was imagined.

They say the squeaky wheel gets the grease.  In restaurants, the squeaky wheel gets spit in their food, or so my children keep telling me.  Same procedure, different outcome.  Then there is the claim that patience is a virtue.   In my humble opinion, that must have been said by someone who had no place to go and didn’t care when they got there.

We arrived at the repair shop on Monday at 9:30, the time the mold specialist was to arrive.  At 10:30 we asked that they call him to find out when he would arrive.  He will arrive on Wednesday.  The estimated arrival of the results, Friday.  Another full week of motionless progress.   Then our repair man mentioned that our project manager didn’t really want to take our job.  Hmmm…really?  If his dragging this out isn’t a strong enough hint, what would be?  That big old slug that KatieBug found at the bird sanctuary is moving at the speed of Paul, our service manager.

Wednesday morning, again headed to the RV.  A gigantic claw floating across the sky caught our eye when we were just a few blocks from the repair shop.  We stopped to watch lodge poles, think Disney style Wilderness Lodge type, being carefully lowered onto a bark stripper.  Dozens of them cautiously placed on the gravity driven loader and diligently watched by an engineer as they disappeared into the monster machine and came out mostly stripped of their bark, on the other side.  John called Zip-O-Log Mills, home of the gigantic blue monster machine lodge pole maker, shortly ago to inquire about guided tours.  As expected, insurance purposes kept tours from being offered to the public.   Fortunately the best view of the process was from across the street…and free!

The meeting with the mold testing company resulted in several air samples being taken and referral to a professional mold remediation specialist.  We met with the mold remediation specialist back at the RV at noon.  Not too surprising, he is from the Houston area, where companies actually look for the mold, remove it, treat the areas and then repair the damage.  Here in Eugene, home of the moldy street pavement and clumps of mold on roof tops, they simply remove as much damage as they see, paint over it and cover it back up.  Plans are to leave the area this weekend and head for the coast to enjoy the beach for a few days.  Newport is how we spell relief.

This may be our last weekend with Millie.  The cancer diet, vitamins and herbal drops are not working as hoped.  We just started pain meds and she is comfortable most of the time but her comfort level is declining and we do not want her to spend more time in pain than not.  It is time to say good-by.  Not sure how we will get KatieBug to understand.  She has been glued to Millie these last few weeks.   Sweet doggie, you will be missed.

Driving in Eugene is not like driving through our sheltered little “Pleasantville” town roadways in the Woodlands.   There, I only had to worry about old people driving down the wrong side of the street or harried mom’s chatting on their cell phones while driving through stop signs.  Lord knows that social calendar is more important than life itself for those airheads.  I was going to call them Woodlands Rich Bitches, but some of them are, some of them don’t qualify.  And with both of those scenarios it would be their fault, not mine.   One honk usually brings them back to reality and most managed to stop before doing any harm.   Here, it is the law that you stop for both pedestrians and bike riders that are actually in, or even approaching, the cross walks.  It even applies to bikes in the bike paths, denoted boisterously by the green sparkly fluorescent paint that is on, and even in, the middle of most roads.  And they know that you have to stop because they don’t bother looking either direction or pause in the least.  This includes the multitude of homeless who tunnel vision off the edge of the sidewalk and into the street, continuing their conversations with buddies, human and canine, dragging their entire life’s holdings behind them in bike trailers.  I almost hit one when I was making a right turn today.  Green for me, I waited until he had crossed half way, then slowly proceeded.  He doubled back quickly to pick up a dropped cigarette butt.  I slammed on my breaks and smiled when he quickly stepped back in front of me not giving me a glance.   Ha, Ha…I’m on to them now!

It’s been one of those days and I don’t want to repeat this level of aggravation more than a few times in my lifetime. We have been out of our LilyPad for 30 days total so far.  We arrived at the RV repair shop and they forgot to take out the back piece of bedroom carpet.  The carpet on the wood engine deck was soaked from the leak and needed to be removed.  John and I both reminded them but there it was, still in place.   Their reason?  It’s glued down so it’s hard to remove the carpet from the wood.   And I care because?  It has mold and is damaged…take it up!

Our original reason for stopping by was to talk with the mold remediation guy and check to see if all the mold was gone.  Another surprise…he isn’t a professional certified mold remediation specialist.  Probably louder than necessary, I stated that we expect an expert to tell us the mold is gone.  Since no one is here from the insurance company to do it for them, we are assuming the responsibility of watching how the solar companies insurance money is being spent.  At our insistence, Monday an expert will come out to test.  Geez…what does it take to get someone to do it right the first time!

Today was the Rain or Shine Farmers Market downtown.  Stopped in for a late breakfast at a local hippie joint, Keystone Cafe.   The rain didn’t break until early afternoon but the skies were still dark and cloudy when we took a gamble, drove over and got out to stretch our legs.  It was a hippie fair like I hadn’t seen since the 1970’s.  Dozens of white square tents all shoulder to shoulder, individualized with brightly colored sheets as backdrops and table tops.  Each one packed with the vendors assortment of scented soaps, metal sculptures, tie dyed t-shirts, goat cheese and spreads, jewelry, incense, pottery, woodwork, flowers, vegetables, baked goods and more, wrapping around several city blocks.  The center held multiple food stands and the whiffs drifted together making the individual fares indistinguishable. As we walked towards the beat of the drums the rain came, first dripping off the trees then pelting us with hail.  People scurried for cover and we headed towards two gigantic Redwood trees.  A thin wisp of a girl dressed in gypsy garb began to chitchat with me excitedly about the beauty of the hail.  Her eyes were huge with wonder but her lips and fingernails were blue from the cold.  Her dad was packing up his guitar and paraphernalia and they left together.  We stood melding with the large tree trunk waiting for the rain to cease.   As it wasn’t slowing and we were already drenched, we headed to the parking lot.

We passed by Voodoo Doughnuts www.voodoodoughnut.com but were to wet to stop so we vowed to return after drying off and having dinner. They are open 24 hours so we had considerable time.

Back in the car and severely soaked, it was time to call Mom.  We were treated to another of her entertaining situations, due in part to her strong antibiotics medication.  She calmly told John that she could only talk for a short time as she had to be back in court at 1:30.   She had received the death penalty, for what she could not say, and had to return to court.  She wasn’t upset or worried about it so neither was John and she chatted on until, in her mind, she had to leave.  Tomorrow she will be exhausted and sleep most of the day but return to her normal 100 year old self the next.

Headed home but after reaching the Inn, we were too soggy and exhausted to go out again.  Walking dogs, TV and sleep go well after a long sopping saturation and chapped kit and caboodle.

Sunday morning breakfast at The Original Pancake House then a drive downtown to check out the Persian rug store, some downtown art and Voodoo Doughnut shop.  Can’t fully explain why this place is so appealing because I’m not a doughnut fan but their doughnuts are said to have a taste “to die for”.   Got pictures of the most famous…Voodoo Doll, Tex Ass Glazed and Cock and Balls.  Use your imagination to guess what they are filled with!  I took pictures, bought a less ominous one…the Portland Cream representing the vision of the great city…ate half before realizing how rich it was and YES, they are that good!  Will float on a sugar high for hours after eating those few yummy bites.

Stopped for an early dinner at another locally famous hole in the wall, Cornucopia.  On the wall outside was a drawing of a toad floating along the Willamette River on top of his Lily Pad.  Fitting, don’t ya think?  Great hamburgers and excellent sweet potato fries went superbly with a large cold refreshing tangerine wheat microbrew.  Dinner was outstanding.