Don't mess with Grandma

    As apparent from previous posts, Paula is an avid gardener, which pursuit borders very close to mania.  This became apparent right from the get-go.  Our first apartment soon had a bunch of plants in windows

and daffodils planted down by the front steps

and when we were lucky enough to move to a little house, one of the first considerations was about the location of the garden.

     This love of gardening has not abated, rather it has intensified through the years.  I made a count last year of how many different kinds of plants there are in our yard, and it came to one hundred twelve.

There are sixty-some tall pines on the property, and only one area by the street that gets much sun.  Because of its public location, Paula's rule is that if something starts looking crummy, it's gone, stuffed in the week's yard waste.  

     And that is why I shave and keep my hair combed (most days). 

     Many years ago, we learned that our yard could be declared an official wildlife habitat!  All we had to do was certify that we provided water, food and protected areas and didn't use pesticides!  Oh, and sent twenty-five bucks to the National Wildlife Federation (www.nwf.org).  For being good people (and the $25) we got a nifty sign that makes people think we're cool.

     However, certain creatures have taken advantage of our kindness.  For instance, our part of town is becoming overrun with Rats With Long Legs, aka white-tailed deer.

     We've been gradually blocking points of egress with wires and gates,

and a motion-activated sprinkler seems to be keeping them out of the backyard.  The video in this link from someone else's property just makes Paula giggle.  On the other hand, it just makes me giggle when Paula forgets about the thing and gets sprayed herself.  Tee hee.

     Paula and the chipmunks have come to an uneasy detente, wherein they don't bother her plants (too much) and she doesn't try to kill them (mostly).

     She welcomes most snakes, as they help keep a check on various varmints (see "chipmunks").  We have a 2 1/2 - foot garter snake that has made his home among the rocks by the backyard pond.  No name yet.

     Unfortunately, this Eden-like Certified Wildlife Sanctuary (for only $25!) has become a nursery for rabbits, specifically Sylvilagus floridanus.  One of their hiding places is just across the driveway from, you guessed it, Paula's street-side garden.  They have been wreaking various degrees of havoc on her flowers and beans.  Sterner measures were needed.

     It turns out that apples didn't only work in the other Garden of Eden.  Small rabbits will voluntarily give up their freedom for slices of Honey Crisp and MacIntosh.

     Coming back from a bike ride the other day, Paula went to water something in the garden, and to her surprise there was the second adolescent bunny of the month in her Have-a-Heart trap, not looking very happy.

     We took him far enough away that, unless he gets Google Maps on his Rabbit iPhone, he's not going to bother Paula's garden again.  Now if we could only convince his probably-thousands of relatives that it's not a good idea....

     Anyway, we hope that you and your varmints/vermin can work it out also.

Dave & Paula

Avast, ye maties!

     There are on-the-water adventures, and then there are on-the-water adventures.  In the trip described in the last entry, we were privileged to sample the beauties of British Columbia from Sam and Emily's sailboat, Thallasic. 

     This week included our daughter Brynn's birthday, and she lives near the coast of North Carolina with her husband Chad and their four kids.  The vote was unanimous to go kayaking on Wednesday. The marine craft this time were perhaps not as elegant as Thallasic, and while they lacked a "head" (that's cool seafaring talk for a powder room) and while they can't really sleep four people,

kayaks are fun and at least the water was warmer.  

     We set forth on our adventure from Swansboro and headed down-wind and down-current, crossing the Intercoastal Waterway on our way to Shark Tooth Island!  

     Paula was paired with Annie The Intrepid who concentrated more on commentary and pointing out the sights than actually paddling.  That more menial task was largely left to Grandma.

    Along much of the Eastern Seaboard one can find the fossilized teeth of the giant prehistoric shark, Megalodon!

and this was the promise of Shark Tooth Island!

     However, either the place had already been picked over, or perhaps was the ancient territory of the much-less-feared Microlodon!  However we did see a mermaid!

     The kids had a great time exploring the island with their mom, 

as did Paula, aka "Adventure Grandma."

     However, Adventure Grandma was not born yesterday, (Note: the number of  'before-yesterdays' is a State Secret), and she wisely traded Annie The Intrepid for someone who could/would actually help paddle and we headed back upstream against wind and current.  (See Annie The Intrepid in the background with Brynn The Brave.)

     The struggle was eventually successful, and the count of passengers in the minivan matched that on the way down.  After a good rest, that evening we celebrated Brynn's birthday.

     It was a fun visit, and we're glad that Megalodon! is prehistoric, even if we didn't find any of his teeth.

Dave

Otherworldly beauty, and I'm not just talking about Paula

     Our son Sam and his partner Emily are on their sailboat for six months, having rented out their house short-term.  They're in British Columbia, moving north.  Depending on the weather and time, they may make it up to Alaska.  They extended a kind invitation to come up and sail with them.

     I don't know if you've ever seen a map of the coast of the province, but it is crazy-full of islands, including the big one, Vancouver Island.  

     We came aboard at Campbell River, at about the middle of the map above.  Sam's boat, Thallasic is a seasoned and seaworthy 34-foot sloop which has sailed five times to Hawaii and once to new Zealand.

     If you've ever spent time on a real-live sailboat, you'll know that they are efficient, no-nonsense craft, with every inch and object having a purpose, and Thallasic was no exception.

     OK, on the other hand, cheese and crackers on a sunny afternoon aren't too shabby.

     Like I said, sailboats are spartan.  Some of them have NO luxuries.

     Just kidding.  One quiet afternoon, Sam rigged the dinghy and he and Paula chilled and doodled around the cove, impressing some of the neighbors in their big motorboats.  

     We saw whales, and I'm not just talking about some of the neighbors in their big motorboats.  No sirree!  Real-live whales, as well as sea lions, seals and other stuff.

     Anchored for the day all by ourselves in a beautiful cove at the end of a narrow passage, we took a hike up to a lake, through a moss- and fern-covered forest.

     Although he is a good, honest man in general, Sam lied terribly about the temperature of the lake water, and then laughed at my distress when I dove in after him.

     Karma comes around, however, and at one point he had to ascend the mast to retrieve a halyard, using a Jacob's ladder sewn by Emily.  That's her in the foreground, trying to remember if she used the right type of thread...

     If I cling to one of the most durable impressions of the trip, it is of cool, near-silent misty islands.  We were all alone in our last anchorage, and it felt like a bit of another world.

    But if I could keep only one feeling, it is of the love I felt for Sam and Emily being with them.  We wish them well on the rest of their six-month trip.  

     And I wish I hadn't left my favorite boardshorts, darn it.  Emily says they look 105% better than Sam's old ones and has claimed them.

     We hope you keep better track of your swimwear and have equally good adventures.

Dave & Paula

A good visit from a good daughter

      As previously noted, our daughter Ashley lives with her husband and seven kids in Uzbekistan.  Their assignment has changed, and they will be moving in two weeks to Nur-Sultan, the capital of Kazakhstan.  Because of tangled State Department rules concerning home visits, they were unable to come State-side this year.  However, because of a nagging but not life-threatening medical concern, Ashley has been here for a couple of weeks.

     She has taken good advantage of the visit, in addition to the needed medical care.  She's visited with old friends, attended the temple, and I think she has bought most of the A&W root beer in Raleigh to send to Kazakhstan with her allowed shipment.  And yes that's a new TV in the box below the work bench.

    I located a couple of used bikes for her and Brandon and they go to Nur-Sultan also.  Along with the toilet paper.

     She's made a point of visiting family while here.  We drove to Delaware this week to see Mike and Adrienne and Krazed Kate, and she did a good job of Aunt-bonding with her niece.

     Ashley was a bit under the weather, so Brynn kindly came up from Jacksonville, NC with her kids.  We distracted the young'uns by taking them to the neighborhood pool so that the sisters could visit, including a side trip to consider Brynn's choices for her kitchen renovation.  Ashley has never been shy with her opinions on such things, and heartily approved.

     We will be sad to see her go this week, though we completely understand that she has her own life, full of kids, packing lists, settling in to a new -stan in Central Asia and all the rest.  

     I never expected that the feelings of love for my kids could become so strong.  The echoes of eternity become more clearly audible with each passing year. 

Dave 

I was correct to worry, but it turned out OK

     Nearly all of my church assignments have had to do with the young men.  I was Scoutmaster for about twelve years with one or another age group, and I get to count being Bishop of a congregation as well as the two missions served in South America.  I'm presently helping with the 16-18 year-old young men.

     So it was no huge surprise when in December I was asked to be the specialist for the encampment of the 12-18 year olds that took place last week.  We were lucky to have access to an old Boy Scout camp for the activity, one with very few facilities beyond fire rings and water spigots.  We decided to not risk poisoning them or their leaders with any of my cooking, and so the largest expense was the cost of renting eight port-a-johns to place around the camp.  Over a thousand dollars, in case you are planning the next backyard party and need eight of them.

     Since our church parted ways with the Scouts a couple of years ago, outdoor skills have atrophied among the youth, so we decided to spend a day in classes covering such basic stuff as knots, starting fires (a good thing or a bad thing, depending), 

first aid, and despite everything being based on GPS now, map and compass. 

     We also felt that returning the favor and doing some service at the camp would be good for the soul, so we spent a half-day cleaning ditches.  

     No good turn goes unpunished, of course, and I was one of several folks attacked by yellow jacket bees when we disturbed their ground nest. 

 

     The final full day was The Day of Manly Feats of Strength and Cunning.   This included such Manly Feats as crossing The Alligator Pit of Death (three cheap inflatable alligators and a big suspended rope to shinny across), Math Fight!, surviving The Water Balloon Firing Squad, figuring out What's Wrong With This Guy? and others.  

     The day ended with, among other things, an eight-vessel Canoe Race.  In my kayak, I represented a pylon around which they had to pass, and the rules didn't say I couldn't move.  A lot.

     The final event was Canoe Jousting.  

     It would have gone better if the padding on my jousting poles hadn't nearly fallen off when it became soaked, and if their canoe-maneuvering skills had been better.  Since no one has to learn how to drive a canoe nowadays, it took an agonizing amount of time for the adversaries to get turned around and come close enough to cause actual harm to each other.

     That said, almost everyone had a good time, and some even learned something.  It was a good experience for many of the young men and their leaders, and in the end was worth the effort.

     However, the months leading up to the event were tough on me, and I haven't sleep well in a while.  I'm afraid I may have to invoke Rule 69 next year if I'm asked to help again.  Rule 69 says that when you reach that age you don't have to do this stuff any more.  

     We hope that your encampments go as well and that the bees leave you alone.

Dave

Another trip, another rug

       She swore that the rug mania had resolved.  Yeah, right.

       As we've mentioned earlier, our second daughter and her husband and seven kids have lived in lots of distant places because of his work with the State Department.  They are presently finishing their fourth year in Tashkent, Uzbekistan, but will be moving to Nur Sultan, Kazakhstan in about six weeks.  Because of some weird State Dept. rule, they don't get a home visit this year, so we decided to go and see them.

      Can I say this?  Don't fly Jet Blue.  

     Not only did they delay our luggage by three days, but they were not nice about it.  And I quote:  "That is correct.  I am NOT going to help you on this situation.  Got it?"  Luckily, we had both packed an extra set of 'ropa interior' (un-mentionables) in our carry-on briefcases, and luckily Paula and Ashley are about the same size, and luckily Turkish Air was more helpful.  

      So, what do you do in an ancient and famous Silk Road city with a written history spanning 2,200 years, formerly part of the Soviet Union?  In Soviet times, it witnessed major growth and demographic changes due to forced deportations from throughout the USSR, so there are lots of ethnic strains there.  Much of Tashkent was destroyed in a major earthquake in 1966, but it was rebuilt as a "model Soviet city."  It was actually the fourth-largest city in the Soviet Union at that time, after Moscow, Leningrad (now once-again St. Petersburg) and Kyiv. 

     OK, so "model Soviet city" doesn't imply very much charm.  

     Since the 1990's, however, Tashkent has gotten significantly better.  It's the largest city in all of Central Asia, which still isn't saying a whole lot, with an estimated population of only about 2 million, seven hundred thousand.  

     Well, what DO you DO?!  Mostly, you play with the grandkids and enjoy time with their parents, who are doing a remarkable job of raising well-balanced kids who have only known strange places as home.  And you go to a waterpark for one of their birthdays.  Excuse me?  Waterpark?!  Yep, and it was one of three or four in the city, though clearly the nicest, and was called "Oasis Waterpark!"  No, that's not a translation, it was "Oasis Waterpark."  Period.  

     Not sure exactly when in its 2,200 years of written history Tashkent started building waterparks, but it was a lot of fun.  Somewhere along the line, my grandkids have picked up their mother's assertive character and when challenged by the lifeguards about being too young to use the highest water slides, they just pushed past and went for it.  The ten year old even wriggled free when one of them tried to physically impede him and he dove for the nearest and biggest slide.  

     The oldest granddaughters are, for better or worse, becoming cute.  When one of the lifeguards tried to slow them down on the water slide, he also asked for the oldest one's telephone number and invited her for a walk that evening.  She related this with a shiver of disgust, but I warned her it would not be the last time, and that she should take it as a compliment, even if her goals do not include marrying an Uzbek.  

     Within its borders, Uzbekistan includes several of the remarkable ancient Silk Road cities, the most well-known of which is Samarkand.  It was the headquarters of the great despotic ruler Emir Timur, or Tamerlane, who in his time conquered and ruled one of history's greatest empires, stretching from China to much of India and the Middle East and included eastern Europe.  It's once-magnificent architecture was subsequently sacked by succeeding despots, but is being restored.  

     Samarkand also has killer ice cream stands.  I know.  Again, not sure if they date to the time of Emir Timur, but he probably could have better pacified his conquered subjects by building more of them.  

     As you know, we're members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  Children are baptized at the age of eight, when they have at least a rudimentary understanding of the commitments that entails.  Our granddaughter Eleanor the Red(head) delayed her baptism several weeks so that we could attend.

OK, anything else to do in this ancient and fabled area of the world?  Well, there are puzzles.

And helping a granddaughter sew a dress,

and a birthday (observed) to be celebrated.

     And grandkids to tickle and read stories to, and turtles in the yard to be admired, and cheap/plentiful cherries to be consumed.  

     Among the monumental monuments to Soviet greatness left behind is the Tashkent TV Tower, stretching 1,230 feet into the sky.

    Somehow, our enthusiastic ten-year-old grandson learned that it included a rotating restaurant, a visit to which became one of the obsessions of his young life, and which goal was satisfied during our stay.

     OK, we only broke one of the goblets that the five-year-old is swinging around in the photo, and we avoided being asked to leave by the maitre d', though probably barely.  A dream fulfilled!

     Tashkent is located in an arid desert climate, its development made possible only by rivers coming from the Zeravshan and Pamir mountain ranges to its east.  It is one of only two countries in the world that are "double landlocked," meaning one has to pass through two other countries to reach the sea.  This lends it a fairly extreme climate, cold in the winter and quite hot in the summer.  That is probably why Emir Timur instituted the building of waterparks for his subjects.  And by the way, before you reach for Google, the other country is Liechtenstein. (Is that a country?)

     And that is why my daughter and her family bless the State Department for putting them up in a nice house with a backyard pool, where we spent a lot of time during our stay.  

(Note:  The picture appears slanted.  That is because Tashkent is on the other side of the globe.  You know, like tilted?  Duh.)

     Fine, now how about the rug in the title?  Having visited Ashley and Gang several times in the past, we have partially depleted Central Asia's supply of beautiful carpets.  Knowing that the only remaining places to put these treasures of workmanship were mostly outdoors or in the garage, Paula steeled herself to returning carpet-less.  However, she agreed to buy one for a friend and bring it back to the States for her, and so she went back and forth with texts including pictures of possible choices. 

     Then she remembered: my office had a bare floor!  Yee Hah!  Now it doesn't.

     We returned after ten days with all of our original luggage and then some.  We're happy to be home, even though our jet-lagged brains think that we're still in the land of Emir Timur and his ice cream stands and waterparks.  It will wear off in a couple of days, but we will still have some of his rugs.

Dave & Paula