On The Way To Ashland OR

We take off from Billings at 6:00am Thursday for Seattle. That means you don't get a decent night's sleep as you must set your alarm for 4:00am. Some old people like to sleep in. It's a little crowded at the Horizon/Alaska gates at SeaTac.

Arriving at 7:20am where we wait in the terminal, walking, reading, drowsing and eating 'til 1:40pm. They have a surprising amount of retail activity going on here, almost as much as Rimrock Mall, including some excellent restaurants. Both of us have an omelette with smoked salmon: very tasty.

We get in to the new Medford OR (MFR) terminal around 3:00pm. I guess they don't believe in Central Standard Time or maybe it is Chicago they fail to acknowledge.

We shop for essentials at Harry and David's retail store on the edge of Medford OR: taste some wine from the new wineries opening every day it seems in the Rogue Valley and try their snacks: very tasty.

We have a brunch with the Mazzucas at our favorite breakfast place on Main St, just across the street from the Plaza Inn. See below. Excellent as usual. I think we have persuaded Nic and Zac that this is the place for breakfast and lunch. Many of the company at OSF think so too.

As you can see, early April is early Spring in the Rogue Valley, at least in Ashland there are many flowering trees and bushes and the grass is always green.

We take in The Tragedy of Julius Caesar by W. Shakespeare, done in modern dress. We were saddened by the death of J. Caesar in this production, in contrast to most others that I have seen. That lady in the strange hat and gigantic green bag stage right is our oldest but still serviceable daughter Margaret, aka Peg.

We took the kids to a funfair where they rode Go-Karts on the edge of Central Point (see an earlier entry on blue cheese) when lo and behold we ran into some people who were intent on practically giving away some giant recreational vehicles such as the above.

We even went for a ride. More on this part of the adventure at a later time.

To keep Carol happy we went to her favorite store, where else but Paddington Station, guarded by the faithful Paddington Bear, see above.

There are lots of new places and people in Ashland since our last visit there, including this quiet Noble Coffee Shop & Roasting Establishment in the Railroad District. New friends include Mick and Anjie Reynolds, see below. They are not tourists, but entertain them regularly.

All in all, a great time was had by all. We plan on going back in the Fall, perhaps when the Traditional Jazz Festival is taking place in nearby Medford OR, usually the first weekend in October. There must be some items that my failing memory has forgotten.

Three of five Grandsons Eating Cookies

Tres amigos y primos

Afternoon in Richmond

Guess which one of these two classy vehicles above we took to do some shooting at the Richmond CA Rod and Gun Club? That's on the east side of the bay.

Of course, the FBMF on the right. It rides surprisingly smoothly. Don and Joan tend toward extremes I guess.

We came with a variety of small arms. All the way from .22 cal. to .45 cal. With the usual variations on size and velocity.

That is grandson Matt doing the honors with an AR 15, which looks and feels very much like what I remember as an M16, back in the days when Uncle Sam allowed me to serve in our nation's armed forces, both the Air Force and the Navy I am proud to say.



I will borrow the clip from the Lou Gehrig Story at Yankee Stadium when he publicly retired, finally diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis—which came to be known as Lou Gehrig disease—after a disastrous season, says he is "the luckiest man on the face of the earth" in a bouncing around the stadium fashion, when I get close to retirement.

He meant it and so will I.

That is Don McInnes, father of Don and grandfather of Matt showing us all how to shoot a 9mm pistol. I think he is actually a junior as his father was Don as well, that would make his son Don III but I think that all changes as people cash in their chips. I think the guy to the right is now Don, and his son is Don Jr. Still a helluva shot.


Don and Matt, father and 10 year old son, walking back to the line after checking their targets on the 100 yd range.







That is my pistol target to the right. I guess I had a little too much coffee to drink before I pulled the trigger, well, more than once actually. This seems like a random tremor to me. I thought myself lucky to hit the larger tan target at all. It was at 50 yds.

By the way, for my friends on the wacky left, the folks that I met at the range did confirm that sales of weapons and ammunition are up. They all seemed fairly normal, and didn't show much hesitation in their political speech either. Just so you know.

I Left My Heart . . .

A too-short stay in Marin County with daughter Joan recuperating from a total hip replacement was interrupted by a trip with grandson Matt and his father Don, to the San Francisco Giants' AT&T Park, to see the Giants and Rangers play an inter-league game on Saturday evening.

Matt Cain, 9-1 this season, who has carried a pretty good batting average for a pitcher, around .230 for the last 3 years—I like pitchers who can hit— and Derek Holland, only a major leaguer for about 2 months now, hooked up in a pitching duel with only one home run mistake per pitcher for eight innings. They were both throwing bullets from where I sat.

We left so as to get home at a reasonable time listening to the extra-inning finish in the 11th inning with an anti-climatic wild pitch. Some nice views out over San Francisco Bay. A ferry from Larkspur docks right down in McCovey Cove where Bonds hit all the home runs. They don't seem to remember him anymore in this stadium.


Maybe that is why they bought aging Randy Johnson and pumped him up quite a bit before and after his 300th win. He was presented with a plaque and lots of other famous guys with 300 major league wins were present for the ceremony (see them seated at the lower left hand corner of the picture to the right. Nolan Ryan in person along with others and video appearances by Roger Clemens and other noteworthy pitchers of the past.)





We enjoyed ourselves in the bleachers, the brats were from Sheboygan, the beer from Petaluma, and the lady announcer didn't annoy us much as she could have because her voice was lost in the din of the crowd.

Nice score board to the left, except that in the bleachers you have to look over your shoulder to see it and the replays etc.


And the pitching data, total pitches and mph, were in a separate place down the right field line. The above picture on the right is of the cove named after Willie McCovey. The right field bleachers are only 309 ft away from home plate and only about 5 or 6 rows deep. Maybe they should move them out now that Bonds is no longer active.

The Prodigal Double Dial Has Returned

This double-dial clock tells the time on the upper dial and the date/day on the lower of the two dials. This one was made some time around the middle of the 19th century. My dad, County Clerk of Dodge County for some 20 odd years was rummaging around in the attic of the courthouse in Juneau, Wisconsin some years back and found this covered with dust and debris of course.

It has kept pretty good time for us but it recently had a spell of arrhythmias so we took it in to be looked at by our timepiece-fixing friend Walt Kirschman who runs The Clock Works over on Moore Lane. He has pronounced it fit and given his guarantee. Wish my physician were that helpful.

I took this picture before we put the weights and the little pendulum back inside. We were told to let everything warm up before we expected it to function perfectly. Just as we were getting ready to take him home another of our more senior clocks decided to put up a fuss. So now we have another empty space for a couple of weeks I suppose.

A Few Days in the Duke's City of New Mexico

Fountain in downtown Albuquerque. That is abuela Carol and nieto Diego in front of her.

St Philip de Neri Church in the middle of Old Town, Albuquerque

Wednesday morning we spent walking around Old Town. Lunch at La Placita.

Eating at NYPD Pizza Place in downtown Albuquerque. Carol, Sharon & Diego. Only fair: good pizza, bad service.

Central Ave, formerly Hwy 66 from Chicago to Los Angeles, going through the middle of Albuquerque and the middle of a lot of other towns as well, the way highways were built when I was a boy. In the 40s we would sit glued to the windows of our car.

Sign on pedestrian walkway in Albuquerque, about 4th and Central Ave (aka Rte 66)

Gigantic dessert served by two waiters at Rte 66 Diner on Central Ave ABQ.
Somehow I'm not surprised that these folks ordered this dessert.

Rte 66 Diner ABQ

New Orthodox Church on 4th St ABQ, just down the street from Catholic and Protestant churches.

Corn is higher than your head by 1 Aug in ABQ. Taken on residential street a few blocks from Sharon and Leo's house in the Barelas neighborhood.

Native American sellers of nice jewelry in Old Town ABQ

Family Matters in Albuquerque

Despite our adventure in Wyoming we arrive in Albuquerque on Saturday evening, a little worse for wear, but not much. The Hotel Blue is filled with conventioneers so we go uptown to the Hilton. Naturally we fortify ourselves at our favorite restaurant, The Flying Star. Our grandson Diego, see above, has grown a lot since we last saw him in the spring, talking a lot, getting used to using the toilet.

Sunday morning we check out St Paul's Lutheran Church. Unfortunately the choir is on vacation. The sanctuary has stadium seating, which is nice, though sometimes balls roll down toward the altar.

Monday is RailRunner day in Albuquerque and Bernalillo. If we come to ABQ at Xmas time we should be able to ride all the way to Santa Fe in the north and Belen in the south. I suppose because the cities are all in New Mexico it was easier to get the train idea going that it would be, for example, between Portland and Seattle, or Saint Paul and Milwaukee. Very comfortable ride. There are about 3 or 4 runs in the morning, the same in the late afternoon/evening and then this one at mid-day, mainly occupied by families out for some fun.

More family and Albuquerque stuff here:

Trouble in Wyoming

We were sailing smartly down the 25, stopping every other hour or so to let us and Mag the Dog do our duties, fill up on gas, and check out the Subways and McDonald's on the way to Albuquerque. Wyoming is surprisingly green for August and hazy too, I suppose from wild fires.

By the way, if anyone is interested, the Subway breakfast sandwiches are at least as good if not better than the McDonald's. We stopped at a rest stop 15 or so miles beyond Douglas and our Saab died electrically right there. No rhythm in the old ticker. This was the middle of nowhere at 3pm on a Friday afternoon. AAA eventually found someone to haul us in to Douglas, where we learned that the "high-end" techs would be back on Monday and the parts could probably be ordered from Denver then and we would be good to go on Tuesday or maybe Wednesday. They would be glad to phone around for a room for us to stay 'til then. Hmm.

We learned that a taxi service had recently opened in Douglas. They were capable and willing to take us to Casper for $60 where we found a very useful car rental agency at the Natrona International Airport, a nice place with Delta, Northwest, United and maybe some smaller airlines willing to take us to Salt Lake City, Minneapolis or Denver, but we would have to wait until the following day. [Added later: if you are approaching Casper Airport from the south, do not expect to see a sign telling you where to turn off the 25. It is 4 to 6 miles west of town on the north side and says to "Shoshoni."]

We took a small Hyundai SUV for the week and found it excellent, getting anywhere from 24 to 27 mph, depending on what we were doing. The only problem we had was that we had brought along some cassette tapes and the Hyundai only had a CD player.

Dry T-Shirt Contest

I submit this one as pretty clever without actually being smutty. My brother Russ gave it to me practically off his back. He is on his way to being a grandfather, so I thought I would congratulate him and his children who will be doing all the work.

Mueller Melee II

A smiling Mitch Mueller at Mueller Melee June 2008. Does he know something the rest of us do not?

Tim and Joelle Mueller, not quite newlyweds anymore, at Mueller Melee, June 2008.

An effort at self-photography with Joan laughing at my efforts. She may have snorted during the process, I'm not sure, we were both fairly merry by this time.

Matt Mueller and scary Aunt Joan, Mueller Melee, June 2008

Brother and sister Arlen and Ardis, Mueller Melee June 2008. It looks like Ardis is not quite believing what Arlen is saying. But then, have older sibs ever believed younger sibs? I remember Gerald telling me the facts of life when we were quite young. Of course, I didn't believe him.

Northern Bay Resort: a little inlet from a wide place in the Wisconsin River; fairly new.

Peg early morning dreaming at Northern Bay Resort

Five cousins in the Wisconsin River shallows: Matt, Nick, Matt, Zack and Mitch

Close-up of Nick Mazzuca doing some reading. What else?

Carly Mueller and oldest daughter Isabella at Mueller Melee.