Leaving Home

20170802_152435I’m a homebody. I can go long stretches of days where I don’t even get off of the hill. So, when we go out of town, it’s miraculous, and the trip immediately becomes an adventure the second I get into the car. If you happened to have read yesterday’s blog, I even had fun at a gas station talking to a woman about her 1988 car.

Who knows what I’ll write about today. I’ll just follow the pictures.

20170802_152707This house has become a landmark, a mysterious building that’s been under construction for at least five years, perhaps more. I don’t know what the deal is and why no one is living in it. It’s right on the water, but it’s also right on Highway 101.

It feels strange to blog about an upcoming trip, the on the way to the coast trip, when I’m already back home.

I suspected that there might some good reasons why the hotel had a vacancy when everyone in Eugene was seeking shelter from the desert storm. I could tolerate the pitifulness. They did allow us to have three Labradors. But when the next door neighbor, who was in a non-smoking room, stood outside his door, which was right in front of our open window, it got too much. No frills was rather nothing. No glasses, but there was an ice bucket. No phone. When we needed more pillows and more towels, we had to walk to the office. Not a big deal, but the little things started to add up.

I have been in noisy rooms. I’ve been in rooms where the street lights between me and the flimsy so-called curtains are so bright, I felt like I was sleeping with all the lights on. But I don’t tolerate these things like I used to when I played around on the regional bowling tour when more money was going out than coming in.

I will give the Silver Sands, or whatever the name is, credit for hospitality. The people who worked there were amazing friendly.  When we arrived, just yesterday afternoon, the main guy was busting his butt trying to get rooms ready. Cleaning folks didn’t bother showing up and they were scrambling. I even helped the guy make our bed in the room. It was  rather fun as there was a young girl named Athena also helping. She and her brother, guests at the hotel, were painfully bored and volunteered to help. The twelve-year-old was covering the front desk and Athena was trailing the guy as he made rooms up.

While we made the bed, and she hadn’t made a bed before, I asked her if she knew where her name came from, and when she said she didn’t, I told her. The hotel guy added information that I didn’t know about Athena. It was a true teachable moment. Athena soaked up the attention she was getting from two adults.

It didn’t help that our room didn’t get cleaned.

But the final straw was when Sylvia practically had a heart attack while taking a shower each time someone flushed.

I ought to throw in some more pictures of the drive to the coast, but taking pictures from a moving vehicle isn’t my strong suit. I do have a lot of pictures to share of dogs swimming and dinner, our return trip home, which involved dogs swimming again, ocean and river.

We did return home to a house with the furnace firing full blast with Eugene’s record-breaking 104 degrees and will attempt to sleep on the deck. Maybe if I had swam and run like the dogs, I’d be sound asleep like they are and not reaching for an Ambien or two.

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