Category Archives: Travel

Family, Technology, Travel

The Trouble with Ratchets

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Today’s post comes from Chris, Reneeinnd’s husband.

Due to an anomaly at birth, I am partially ambidextrous.  I learn to do simple tasks with my left hand and complex tasks with my right.  I allow other people to demonstrate their mechanical prowess while I stand aside to lend assistance.  Attempts to tackle jobs with moving parts commonly end in frustration, absurdity, or disaster.

In July, Renee and  I traveled to see our son and his wife in Brookings, South Dakota so Renee could do a therapy presentation and we could help the kids move into a new apartment.  The new place was quite a step up: it had three bedrooms on two levels, with two and a half bathrooms!  Son and his wife had bought new furniture and had it delivered to the new apartment.  They had to leave several pieces of furniture, including a huge, dilapidated sectional sofa, in the old apartment so it could be removed and hauled to the landfill with my pickup.

We arrived on Friday evening, delighted to see the new apartment. Renee and Son would be at the presentation the next day.  After a pleasant meal, the four of us went to the Lowe’s to get what would be needed for the big move– a big tarp and a set of ratchets with straps.

Son and I went over to the old place and proceeded to load the bulky pieces of the sofa into my pickup and cover them with the tarp.  The next step was to secure the load with the straps and ratchets.

Son and I usually work well together, but he has dexterity problems of his own.  Secretly, I didn’t have a clue–I’d let him take the lead.  Neither of us knew how to spool the straps through the ratchet.  Son used the expedient of the young–he looked up the procedure on YouTube.  By this time, it was getting dark and he  had to use his phone as a flashlight.  He figured out what to do, and we threw the hooked end of the strap over the top of the load.  At that point we inadvertently violated the cardinal rule of ratcheting–always keep the strap straight!  If you don’t, the strap will  twist and get stuck in the spool while you’re tightening it with the ratchet.

Of course the strap got tangled, and the strength of two big men was not enough to unwind it.  Fortuitously, Son’s upstairs neighbor, a veteran  of multiple collegiate moves, arrived.  He was able to pull out the strap so it could be spooled back in to the ratchet.  We tried again, secured the load, and drove the truck to the new apartment, tired but satisfied with a job well done.

On Saturday, Daughter in Law  and I got to do the fun part–driving the pickup to the landfill so we could dispose of the sofa.  We gleefully flung the cruddy pieces onto a smelly pile of rubbish.  We were very careful to wind the straps back into ratchets without twisting them.  I had not repeated the same mistake and was proud of my newfound competence.  I could now use a ratchet on my own–without help!

We showed Son the neatly spooled ratchets when he got home, only to find that the straps were horribly stuck! You’re not supposed to rewind the strap through the back of the ratchet!  Son pulled with all  his might and was able to get one of the spools unstuck.  He had to resort to cutting the other one.  A mysterious third strap was involved.  Although  Son remained calm and patient, he was  clearly disgusted by the situation.  He advised me to ask one of “my mechanically inclined” friends for assistance in the future.

The straps and ratchets are stored in a compartment of my truck.  I am too embarrassed to show my incompetence by asking a casual friend or neighbor for help.  I vowed never to use an  unspooled ratchet and strap again– if I can avoid it.

Have you ever had a guilty secret?  What did you do to conceal your shame?

 

Business, History, Media, Stories, Travel

The Omen

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Today’s post comes to us from Linda.

Something in the picture above seems ominous. Or perhaps omenous. But what does it mean?  Wikipedia tells us:

The Romans, unlike the Greeks, considered that signs from the left were usually favorable and positive, while signs from the right were seen as adverse and negative. However, under Greek influence this procedure began to change and eventually lost its universal weight, meaning that each omen case was to be examined separately.

Left or right?  Good or bad?  Discuss.

History, Nature, Stories, The Baboon Congress, Travel

Tips for the Trail

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We’ve been completely on our own for almost six months now – our followers are up and we’re managing to keep daily posts going. Dale had a few unwritten rules for the trail and I thought it wouldn’t hurt if we spelled them out.

It is a baboon congress, so it’s not a very long list.

#1. Be kind.

#2. Don’t worry if you reply in the wrong place

#3. Avoid publishing any email addresses, phone numbers or addresses. (We do have more than 5,000 followers, so this is a just in case)

#4. Pass on the right

#5. Don’t worry if you are Off Topic!

#6. Try to find photos that are licensed for re-use.

#7. Be kind.

Do we need any other tips for the trail?

Nature, Travel, Uncategorized, work

A Garden without Godzilla

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Things have been pretty stressful for me here, especially at work, as several people who I work closely with have taken up offers on job buyouts from the State.  Loss is not easy.

The recent post by VS about Godzilla made me think back on our recent visit to the Japanese Gardens in Portland. It is a pretty serene place.

 

I find it helpful to look back on these photos and remember the quiet, the beauty, and the peace.

What helps you find serenity when you are stressed?

Art, Travel

Glass City

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I have been to Tacoma, Washington two times since early April, and I am amazed at the vibrant glass art community there. There is a Museum of Glass that has a wonderful collection of glass through the centuries, as well as an active glass furnace and workshop where you can see artisans blow glass.  Daughter and I went there in April.  I guess that Tacoma became a center for glass production in the early days as they had lots of saw mills, with lots of wood shavings and waste that could fire furnaces. They also had lots of sand, being on Puget sound.

Husband and I stayed at the Hotel Murano during the trip to Tacoma in May.  Everything, from the handles on the huge glass front doors to the walls of the elevators were in glass, and every floor had an exhibition of current glass artists and their works. They even had glass canoes hanging from the ceiling, a nice tribute to the local Native Americans.

The Museum of Glass is connected to the older part of downtown Tacoma by a bridge of glass. The bridge itself isn’t glass, but there are fantastical glass works displayed on the walk-way. The header photo was taken of works displayed along the walk-way. There also are  glass works piled on top of the walk-way that catch the sun as it shines on the bridge.  It is magical.  

I can’t imagine what would compel someone to decide to commit their life to glass art, but it must be fun.

What magical places and things have you seen?

Family, History, Nature, Stories, Travel

A Little Explore

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For our anniversary a couple of weeks ago, Husband and I took the day off and went out exploring. It is particularly beautiful right now out in the hills surrounding Winona, and we headed south and west, and ended up in a little town of 657 souls called Rollingstone. Had lunch at Bonnie Ray’s Café – cute place, with photos of the locals papering the walls, pretty decent food. We got to meet Bonnie herself – she was wearing a t-shirt that said something like “Rollingstone – Before the Song, Before the Band”. Then we walked around town and played cribbage on a picnic table in the city park, from which we had this view.

We drove on back roads toward Lewiston, and knew our way to Farmers Park, a gorgeous county park situated in a flat spot among the hills. It’s a peaceful place with multiple picnic spots, and an old fashioned playground with not only teeter totters, but also a real merry-go-round.

When we left, I suggested we follow the road you see in the top photo, up a rutted, winding path that brought us to a cornfield on the ridge. We made our way along one gravel road after another, trying to guess which direction at each juncture, and finally came to a county highway. By now we were so turned around we had no idea what would get us back to our Hwy 14. (And we have no smart phone.) Eureka! – I remembered a map I had picked up just that week, which showed a good bit of area around Winona; we turned left onto County Hwy. 23, made our way home.

Before (or lacking) smart phones, how did you manage to find your way when lost?

Food, Travel

Sardines and Only Sardines

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Our last day of the cruise was really just a quick ride from the Port of Lisbon to the airport. No statues, no scenic tour, no talkative guide with plenty to say on the current political climate in Europe (or America).  The Lisbon airport is quite large and getting through the duty-free shop before getting to the gates is like a trip through a perfume-drenched Ikea.

Just after escaping the duty free, as we walked down the hallway, hoping to find our gate, we saw the brightest, most colorful shop ever – it looked like a carnival inside – with rows and rows of colorful tins. After a bit we realized it was shop full of sardines – just sardines.

Apparently Portugal is known for its sardines and from what we could tell from the shop, aged sardines are a real treat. The tins are marked with years on them, although I find it hard to believe that there were 50-year-old sardines in the tins marked 1967.  The shop was busy so we couldn’t get anyone to confirm if they were really that old or if it was just a marketing gimmick.  Both of us are vegetarians so even though it initially seemed like a fun thing to buy at an airport, we both passed.  But even a week later, I’m still amazed at how one product can keep a store open, especially such a big store!

If your store had just one product, what would it be?

Stories, Travel

The Rock

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Our last full day on the ship started in Gibraltar, a slip of land at the very south of Spain, just across the straits from Morocco, which actually belongs to Britain. It feels very British on the peninsula with the traditional red telephone boxes, London-style litter bins and even little bobble-heads of the queen in the souvenir shops.

We happened on a mental health rally, complete with drum corps in kilts and a spin class set up right in the middle of the town square.

With only an hour or so left before the ship sailed, we negotiated an abbreviated tour with one of the local taxi tour drivers. Of my own free will I went into the St. Michael’s caves (client has a photo as proof) and we rode over the top of The Rock to see the view and, of course, the monkeys. There are 202 monkeys currently; the government of Gibraltar keeps track of them via tattoos, feeds them and protects them. The monkeys certainly understand their special status, calmly posing for photos, catching rides atop taxis and attempting to hijack purses and photo bags.

Our tour driver had to wing his way down the rock and through traffic, but we made it back to the ship in one pieces – and just 5 minutes late. They pulled up the gangplank behind us!

Have you ever had a whirlwind tour?

Travel, Weather

Rain, rain, go away

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It was pouring down rain the morning we steamed into Malaga. I had meetings in the morning and had resigned myself to an afternoon stuck on the ship.  Then as we sat in the restaurant having lunch, the sun suddenly broke through and the clouds started drifting away.

Nobody had to ask us twice; we were off the ship in a flash. All up and down the streets of the older part of Malaga is the Andalusian state tree, the beautiful “Jacaranda” with the most amazing purple flowers in abundance.  I had ask a local is it was Ha-caranda (as you would expect in Spain) or Ja-caranda (maybe the word coming into the language from elsewhere).  Ha-caranda it is!

We poked our heads into a pretty little cathedral and on the way out encountered a sweet but spoiled dog as well as some very good street performers playing guitar.

The Picasso Museum was too tempting to miss; he was born in Malaga, so they feel very territorial about him. It was a nice exhibit with some of his very earliest work up through pieces he did near the end of his life.  They also had bookmarks with just the cat from Reclining Nude with a Cat but wouldn’t take a credit card for a purchase under €10 and I didn’t have any more Euros.  So we settled for some Picasso refrigerator magnets from the souvenir shop across from the museum.

We also had to take many photos of the Malaga Ferris Wheel (the Noria de Malaga) as my client collects Ferris wheel photos (no, I don’t know why). It is the largest itinerant Ferris wheel in Europe, as it is technically moveable.

By the time we got back to the ship, the sky was bright blue with just a few wispy white clouds in the distance – a perfect way for a rainy day to end up!

What do you like to do on a rainy day?

 

Stories, Travel

Wandering, wandering

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We had meetings all morning and by the time we were finished, it was too late to catch one of the shore excursions. But I’ve never been in Cartagena before and my co-worker, Shannon, had never been on a cruise and didn’t want to sit on the ship all afternoon.  So we headed out, grabbing a map of the city center on our way.

We wandered through the narrow streets, took lots of pictures and stopped at one point to listen to a guy playing the accordion. We ended up on the top of the hill overlooking Cartagena among some Roman ruins, including an ancient flour mill where they were installing large metal black widow spiders. I couldn’t remember the word for spider (“aranda” – I remembered it as soon as it wasn’t useful anymore!) but we asked the young men doing the installation “porque” (why).  We got nothing from them – just a laugh and a nod of the head.

Then we wandered down off the hill to look at a big church that we had seen from the top of the hill. It was locked but when we peered inside there was a man sitting in a folding chair at the back of the pews and he came over and let us in. My Spanish is just good enough for me to ask him the name of the church and he gave us the name “Basilica de la Caridad” and a little of its history.

After that we walked a bit until we found a current excavation of some more Roman ruins. It was fascinating to see how everything is put back together during this kind of work and it was very interesting to see the artist renderings of what the building and rooms looked like in Roman times.

By then we had just enough time to buy a t-shirt for Shannon’s son and then get back to the ship. I’m sure we had a better time than if we had done a canned bus tour.

When have you wandered?