Love, As Always, Pete

The Weekly Letters, by A. Pedersen Wood

September 22, 2004

Dear Everyone:

Tomorrow is ARMA night, so I’m writing this week’s Letter tonight.  (ARMA = Association of Records Managers and Administrators.)

Last week’s trip to Oregon qualifies as a success.  On Sunday, “Jeannie” and I drove up to Lake Oswego.  I knew getting that new car with the V6 engine would pay off as soon as we got into the mountains.  We cruised along quite easily.  I even let “Jeannie” drive for a while before and after the mountains.

We spent Monday with Mother, just hanging out.  We quickly discovered that Oregon is considered a “battleground state” for this year’s presidential election.  The Republicans wrote California off long ago, so they don’t waste a lot of advertising time with us.  Likewise, the Democrats are going to put their money where it will buy them the most votes.  So we only see the “attack ads” when they show up on the news.  In Oregon, the only ads more frequent than political mud-slinging were for “vocational training” courses promising better jobs to people with even lower-paying occupations.

On Tuesday, we took Mother to the pain specialist to see if another cortisone shot into her spine was a good idea.  They wouldn’t let “Jeannie” go in with her, so we waited in the outer office until she came out, and chatted with other visitors about those amazing political ads.  Meanwhile, for Mother, it wasn’t an easy visit, but by the end of the day, she pronounced that life just might be worth living after all.

On Wednesday morning, I ran a load of laundry in order to have clean clothes to wear for the rest of the week.  Then we set out for Ashland.  We got in around 6:30 that evening.  After checking in to the Ashland Springs Hotel (better known by its old name, the “Cleopatra”), we treated ourselves to dinner in a really nice (expensive) restaurant.

On Thursday, we saw The Comedy of Errors.  For those of you not familiar with this play, it’s the one about two sets of twins, separated shortly after birth, who both show up in the same town at the same time.  In this case, the town is Las Vegas in the 1950’s.  “Jeannie” loved the clothes, since she is currently collecting vintage rhinestone jewelry from around that period.

Just a few minutes before the performance was to begin, a man approached our seats.  I had seen him earlier, giving work direction to a couple of the ushers.  He asked my name, and when I answered, he gave me an envelope.  It was addressed to me, with the exact seat numbers, date and time.  When I opened it, it contained a note to me from the Festival’s Artistic Director, thanking me for my support (membership dues).  “Jeannie” found out later that this is the latest attempt to “honor” the members in the “Benefactors” levels; those who donate $1000, or more, each year.

That night, we watched King Lear in the outdoor theater.  In between, I encountered my high school friend on Main Street.  This was not a complete surprise since we had already found out that we would be in Ashland at around the same time.  In fact, we had made a date to have lunch on Friday and get caught up on news, family, friends.

Before we got to Ashland, I was pretty sure that “Jeannie” was ready to call it quits, after 30 years.  But the longer we were there, the more she seemed to brighten up.  We may go back again after all.  At the very least, we have until next November to decide (when the brochures are mailed out).

Friday night, we saw The Royal Family.  The playwrights always swore that it wasn’t about the Barrymore family, but no one ever believed them, least of all the Barrymores.  It’s a delightful vintage piece of comedy in three acts.

The whole time we were in Ashland, there was the constant threat of a “chance of rain”.  In fact, on Friday, I carried a small umbrella around in my handbag, just in case.  But the only times it rained were when we were indoors.  Even on Saturday, as we walked through the Saturday Market (“Jeannie” bought a knitted hat), not a drop.  We got the car packed and left just before noon.  It did rain a bit in the mountains, but that was all.

Sunday morning, back in my own bed, I awoke to a strange sound.  At first, I couldn’t identify it.  Then I realized that it was raining!  I immediately went to check on my new patio shade, the one made with waterproof vinyl this time.

I noticed when “Jeannie” helped me put the cover up that it sagged a bit at the edges and I wondered if that would be a problem.  From the bedroom window, I looked down on a large bowl of dirty water hanging precariously over my patio.  All of the rain karma, avoided in Oregon, had followed us down to California.

I dressed quickly and got out a mop and the new, larger step-ladder.  It took me a good 15 minutes to finally get the water off the vinyl cover.  The problem with water is, when you push up from below (with the mop head), it just flows back down behind you.  You have to get it to go up and over the frame, hopefully before it breaks said frame.

It was an unusually heavy downpour, but once I got the bulk of the water off the cover, and put the frame back together, shaking the rest of the accumulating raindrops off every few minutes wasn’t difficult.  I’ll have to keep an eye on it, though.  If it looks like we’re going to have a really wet winter, I might have to take precautionary steps.  But we’ll see.

Love, as always,

 

Pete

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