Today I was amazed at how small the World is at times. Have you ever bumped into someone at a distant airport? Has someone called your name when you were shopping in the next town over? Have you been asked "Is your name (fill in your name) when buying produce?
Well, I must say, I have one that tops the cake. My younger daughter called me last night. Right out of her mouth came "Who is that person that posted on your Facebook page saying she is vacationing in Lincoln City?" So I explained that she is a lovely friend from my David Douglas High School in East Portland. I went on to say we have stayed connected over the years.
So, next I am asked if I think she would mind going to a Lincoln City pizza place and retrieve a jacket for my grandson. She explained the coat had been left behind while vacationing a few days ago. They had already continued on toward home in the Seattle area before they noticed it was missing.
I assured my daughter that my friend would be the type of person to volunteer to do that. I pointed out that she is on the reunion commitee from our High School. My daughter was not convinced it was okay to contact her at first, but eventually she was satisfied it would be fine.
As suspected, my friend was very willing to help out. So, I called back to my daughter. I gave her the friend's mobile phone number. I did not here from either of them for a long time. It seems they had much to talk about. I think they talked for close to an hour. She text messaged me this morning and assured me the coat is in her possesion.
Okay, so the next step, in this amazing tangle, will involve my ex-wife that lives in Portland, currently vacationing in Seattle with my other daughter. The plan calls for my friend and my ex to connect when they both return to Portland. My ex will figure out how to get the coat back to my grandson.
Whew!
When you think you are wasting too much time on line, remember this story. You never know when Facebook will save the day!
KB
Showing posts with label daughter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label daughter. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Letterboxing Sells Itself
I started letterboxing at the urging of my oldest daughter, Stephanie. She got her tendency to jump into something with both feet from me. So when she starts telling me about all the fun she is having searching out letterboxes by following clues, how could I not chose to join her fun.
At first, I could not imagine myself as an artistic carver. I can draw snowmen, rabbits, maps, and a boy. All are pretty basic. I make maps for work. I have developed a style that relates the important information without any artistic flair. The boy is created by starting with the word
Shortly after telling me about letterboxing, Stephanie forwarded to me an announcement of an upcoming letterboxing event. The Fat Lady was planning a letterboxing party for her younger sister, The Pied Piper. What could a dad do but sign up to attend as Kayak Bandit.
I attended this event. From the second I met the first one until now. Everyone involved in letterboxing were and continue to be so very welcoming, warm, open and sharing. Especially helpful to me was Stormcrow. He encouraged me to sign into his logbook and gave me his stamp. He also had a stamp of a dollar bill. He conducted a quiz where the person guessing the right answer would get the image stamped and he would write in the amount that was won. I think I won five bucks. It was a lot of fun.
I had already bought the idea of the hobby from Stephanie's first explanation. Yet, I had to somehow draw an image of a dog (named bandit) paddling a kayak. I assured myself and anyone listening that I could not do it. I was telling my friend Melissa about it, and wondered if she could help. You see, she has shown me some nice artwork of hers. In a couple days she had drawn a picture of what I needed. Great job, Melissa.
As most new carvers do, I chose to carve a negative image of her artwork. I am not real happy with the result. I plan to recarve the same image, but make it positive instead. It will have to do for now.
After attending the party, but before I finished my signature stamp, I went to the Atlas Quest online site to check out nearby letterboxes. Wow, there were lots to choose from. I delayed searching for any boxes until I could do it up right. I wanted my own logbook and stamp. Eventually I was ready. Stormcrow listed a new box named Loveboat. We chatted on line about it. He pointed out that he used snow shoes to get to the spot as there was about two feet of snow. Not to be deterred, I went out the next day and found my first box. I had no snow shoes, but managed to get to it. Some times I would break through the crusty snow, but it was worth it. Bandit and I sat down in the snow and logged our first find. Physically, I was cold and wet, but not emotionally.
Now when I find a letterbox, I absorb all I can about the letterbox. I look carefully at the stamp to see what technique was used to carve it. I look at the way the logbook is bound. I look at all the images stamped into the logbook and read the comments. People come from all across our country to find letterboxes. I even have a hitch hiker letterbox that came from Erie Pennsylvania. I hope the interest in these treasures remains for me. Judging from the others I have met, I bet it intensifies. I cannot imagine, but okay, bring it on. I am ready.
Letterboxing really does sell itself. For more information about letterboxing, check out this link. http://bayareabackroads.com/RecentShows/April562008/tabid/92/Default.aspx It was taped in California. See you on the trail.
Kayak Bandit ----/---- '(*!*)'
At first, I could not imagine myself as an artistic carver. I can draw snowmen, rabbits, maps, and a boy. All are pretty basic. I make maps for work. I have developed a style that relates the important information without any artistic flair. The boy is created by starting with the word
boy
Shortly after telling me about letterboxing, Stephanie forwarded to me an announcement of an upcoming letterboxing event. The Fat Lady was planning a letterboxing party for her younger sister, The Pied Piper. What could a dad do but sign up to attend as Kayak Bandit.
I attended this event. From the second I met the first one until now. Everyone involved in letterboxing were and continue to be so very welcoming, warm, open and sharing. Especially helpful to me was Stormcrow. He encouraged me to sign into his logbook and gave me his stamp. He also had a stamp of a dollar bill. He conducted a quiz where the person guessing the right answer would get the image stamped and he would write in the amount that was won. I think I won five bucks. It was a lot of fun.
I had already bought the idea of the hobby from Stephanie's first explanation. Yet, I had to somehow draw an image of a dog (named bandit) paddling a kayak. I assured myself and anyone listening that I could not do it. I was telling my friend Melissa about it, and wondered if she could help. You see, she has shown me some nice artwork of hers. In a couple days she had drawn a picture of what I needed. Great job, Melissa.
As most new carvers do, I chose to carve a negative image of her artwork. I am not real happy with the result. I plan to recarve the same image, but make it positive instead. It will have to do for now.
After attending the party, but before I finished my signature stamp, I went to the Atlas Quest online site to check out nearby letterboxes. Wow, there were lots to choose from. I delayed searching for any boxes until I could do it up right. I wanted my own logbook and stamp. Eventually I was ready. Stormcrow listed a new box named Loveboat. We chatted on line about it. He pointed out that he used snow shoes to get to the spot as there was about two feet of snow. Not to be deterred, I went out the next day and found my first box. I had no snow shoes, but managed to get to it. Some times I would break through the crusty snow, but it was worth it. Bandit and I sat down in the snow and logged our first find. Physically, I was cold and wet, but not emotionally.
Now when I find a letterbox, I absorb all I can about the letterbox. I look carefully at the stamp to see what technique was used to carve it. I look at the way the logbook is bound. I look at all the images stamped into the logbook and read the comments. People come from all across our country to find letterboxes. I even have a hitch hiker letterbox that came from Erie Pennsylvania. I hope the interest in these treasures remains for me. Judging from the others I have met, I bet it intensifies. I cannot imagine, but okay, bring it on. I am ready.
Letterboxing really does sell itself. For more information about letterboxing, check out this link. http://bayareabackroads.com/RecentShows/April562008/tabid/92/Default.aspx It was taped in California. See you on the trail.
Kayak Bandit ----/---- '(*!*)'
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Thanks, Dad, for my freedom
Today is Father's Day. I just want to brag about my dad. He served in WWII.
When he was a teenager, he worked in a pharmacy. Some horrible chemicals accidentally got splashed in his eyes. They were saved by someone sticking his head under a faucet and letting the water totally wash out his eyes.
My aunt (his sister) told me later that he and all of his wild friends wanted to fly planes in WWII. Because of crystals in his eyes from the chemicals, he was rejected as a pilot. She told me all of his buddies died in the war, flying planes.
My dad was kind of like Sgt. Bilko. He was in charge of a platoon of men. He would score beer for them, all kinds of fun stuff.
His platoon did clean-up; they would go to sites of battles after the battles were over. Though there was no guns firing at them there, those sites must have been horrible to see. He was on Hawaii, Guam, among other sites.
He came back from the war, met & married my mom and they had me and my older sister. He was 38 when I was born! (I'm 47 now).
He died in 1994, from a heart attack on a fishing trip. I don't think he could have chosen a better way to go! His little memorial pamphlet, on my direction, didn't have a poem or Bible passage but simply said "Gone fishin'". I think he would have liked that. I know my aunt loved it.
I miss him still, especially around the holidays.
Because of a fluke accident when he was a teenager, I was born! Yay!
Thank you to my dad and hundreds of thousands like him, now and in the past. No matter how we feel about an individual war and why we are at war and whether we should be, we should ALWAYS thank our vets and their families for all the sacrifices.
And, hey, you single vets, come back alive. There are kids like me that want to be born!
KuKu
When he was a teenager, he worked in a pharmacy. Some horrible chemicals accidentally got splashed in his eyes. They were saved by someone sticking his head under a faucet and letting the water totally wash out his eyes.
My aunt (his sister) told me later that he and all of his wild friends wanted to fly planes in WWII. Because of crystals in his eyes from the chemicals, he was rejected as a pilot. She told me all of his buddies died in the war, flying planes.
My dad was kind of like Sgt. Bilko. He was in charge of a platoon of men. He would score beer for them, all kinds of fun stuff.
His platoon did clean-up; they would go to sites of battles after the battles were over. Though there was no guns firing at them there, those sites must have been horrible to see. He was on Hawaii, Guam, among other sites.
He came back from the war, met & married my mom and they had me and my older sister. He was 38 when I was born! (I'm 47 now).
He died in 1994, from a heart attack on a fishing trip. I don't think he could have chosen a better way to go! His little memorial pamphlet, on my direction, didn't have a poem or Bible passage but simply said "Gone fishin'". I think he would have liked that. I know my aunt loved it.
I miss him still, especially around the holidays.
Because of a fluke accident when he was a teenager, I was born! Yay!
Thank you to my dad and hundreds of thousands like him, now and in the past. No matter how we feel about an individual war and why we are at war and whether we should be, we should ALWAYS thank our vets and their families for all the sacrifices.
And, hey, you single vets, come back alive. There are kids like me that want to be born!
KuKu
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