-Gramps-

There are many a/v remote controlled switch boxes on the market but few coax/f connector ones. I think Herman asks a good question. Why not just use the inputs in the televisons and use coax splitters and do away with the box altogether. The only thing that could stop that is that most tvs only have one coax input and both cable and antenna have to feed to the set. If your set has two f connector inputs the box could be done away with.

First off ChefGarry I want to welcome you to the FMCA Family and to the blogs. I hope you will be a member of both for a long, long, time. Now about your slides. I suspect that the malfunction is related to your electrical problem. The battteries may have been too low to move them. Once they charged up a bit the slides started to work. I don't know if you replaced the house batteries or not. If not I would get them load tested. All the things that happened to you, with the exception of the Great October Snow Storm are pretty typical. They have happened to most of us and for most of us those kind of troubles have happended more than once. Don't let the mishaps curb your enthusiasm for the Coach lifestyle. It is a wonderful thing to be part of. Once again a great big welcome and you will not be a newbie for long! Gramps

Last Friday morning I headed out to Lowes to buy a couple of things. I needed a flush valve seal for the low flow toilet in the bathroom next to our bedroom. I put off getting one for days just because I hate anything to do with plumbing. Plumbing is wet and it leaks and it frustrates me. However, a water bill that is bigger than it should be due to a bad toilet frustrates Diane so I found myself at Lowes buying the seal, some light bulbs (the old fashioned kind). I also picked up a Roman Shade for the coach bedroom door window. Diane didn’t want me to get one of those yet, not until she could shop with me. I wanted one right away because we were leaving later that afternoon in the coach with our grand boys for a little weekend camping trip to the Virginia Beach KOA. We needed the shade because Teddy Bear tore up the mini blinds that use to hang on the bedroom door. We had accidentally closed the door before we left Teddy alone in the coach while we took a trip to somewhere. He likes to sit in the bedroom chair and look out the window. He tried to open the door and in the process bent the blinds beyond repair. It didn’t matter that much, because we never liked them. So I came back with a shade. Diane was going to hang the dog blanket over the window for some privacy but the shade was on sale so I hoped the low price would compensate for a color she might not like. She frowned at me when she saw it, and reminded me that we were supposed to look together but she also said that it didn’t look all that bad. So I avoided that problem, and then tackled the leaky toilet. I did manage to fix it pretty quick so we packed up the coach and waited for the boys to arrive. Christine, Rob and little Brooklyn along with Carson and Austen pulled up around two in the afternoon. By two thirty, the car was hooked up and we were on our way to the Beach. It took about forty minutes to get parked on the site. The boys went exploring while I hooked up the coach and set up our patio. Then I hung the Roman shade. Diane actually thought it looked good. I was relieved. Once that was done, I went looking for the boys and found them on the basketball court. We played Cow, then Bird, and no matter what I could not beat Carson. The old man can’t out shoot the eight year old. They talked me into trying the giant jump pillow. This is a very large air filled trampoline. I gave it a whirl but I didn’t stay on it long. I figured if my knees gave out my butt would take a big bouncing whack. Actually, it was fun. You can get quite a bit of height, enough to do flips (Not Me!) and there are no springs to trap you and then break your leg. I fired up my Char-Griller kettle and I put chicken breasts with rice and mushroom soup wrapped in foil on the coals. Forty minutes later when had tender chicken, with rice and steamed broccoli for dinner. I used the coals to start a fire in the ring. Austen had procured the wood from the camp store earlier. We roasted marshmallows and made smores. After all the dinner stuff was cleaned up the boys came into the coach to watch “Back to the Future’ part one. They had never seen it before. It was fun to watch a movie with the boys about 1955 set in 1985. All of it was a trip to the past for them, big video cameras, Sony Walkman cassette tapes and all as well as Mr. Sandman and black and white television sets. The line in the movie “Who the heck is John F Kennedy?” is ironic for a number of reasons. They want to watch part 2. They will both find out the future, now their present, didn’t turn out exactly like the movie predicted. Saturday morning arrived clear and cool. It was going to be a glorious day. We all had sausage and egg biscuits nuked in the microwave, except for Teddy Bear of course. Then the boys took off for the jumping pillow on their scooters. I decided to make some minor repairs to the coach. I climbed up on the roof with needle and thread and repaired one of the bedroom slide out toppers. Then I waxed and buffed a section of the roof. I had some samples of RV wax-cleaner and I just wanted to see what they would do. Not that much it turned out. That reminds me I need to climb back up their and buff that stuff off. After my trip to the roof, I tightened up a loose bolt that holds the bay heater element wire to the snap fuse. I think that it being loose was the cause of the heater not blowing warm air last winter. That resulted in a frozen water pump. I would like to avoid replacing it again this winter. Diane and I let the boys set their own schedule for the morning. We figured as long as they were having fun…then we could have some time to ourselves. Both of us opened e-books and read most of the morning. I was trying to get through “Endeavor in Time” a Christian novel about time travel. It wasn’t written very well at all. The author borrowed from the TV series “Quantum Leap” and I think he should have left it alone. I finished the book and parts of it were okay but that is the best thing I can say about it. “The Door into Summer’ written in 1955 is a much better book if you want to read a time travel novel. It too has some predictions about the future that didn’t work out the way the author envisioned. That is part of what makes it fun. We read until lunch time which was the same time the boys came back to the coach. After lunch, all of us piled into the car and headed for the Virginia Beach boardwalk. After we parked we walked to a bicycle rental stall at 11th and Atlantic. We rented a surrey, one of those four person pedal cars. Diane had a coupon for the rental and we bought an hour for half the normal price. Carson and I took the front seats, Diane, Teddy Bear and Austen sat down in the back. We set off down the bike path. Pedaling that thing was hard work, plus the brake didn’t function. We could only stop the rig using the Flintstone method. I found out real quick that Carson was not much help propelling the coach as he could not reach the pedals. Teddy Bear was not comfortable riding on Diane’s lap so we decided to rearrange things a bit. Carson and Diane switched seats, Teddy went in the baby seat all the way up front. That worked out really well. The dog seemed to like being in the basket and he got lots of attention from the people we passed. Carson could stand up on the pedals in the back and so he became more than just dead weight. He became the afterburner. Whenever I called for "Turbo power", he would hit the pedals and give us a sudden burst of speed that didn’t throw us back in our seats but still moved us along at a much faster pace. We pumped that thing for an hour. It wore me out, but it was a lot of fun for all of us. As we were pedaling along we watch people horse back riding, and kite flying. We saw one person on an electric unicycle. We passed other surries and gave the passengers a big wave as we went by. We sang as we rode. It was a good hour. We returned the bike and then went to the closest grocery store for some ice cream. While there I bought some of those packaged adult juice boxes….Mar-Go-ritas or something like that. You put em in the freezer, until they get slushy and then serve them. You have to squeeze them to get the good stuff out. I bought them for all the adults coming for a cook out that night. Once we were back in the coach I served up some pretty good coffee ice cream to Diane while the boys and I had some Chocolate Truffle. Then Carson and I hung a string of rope lights that had been on the ground, from the patio awing. About the time we finished Christine showed up with sleeping Brooklyn. They left her with me while everyone else went back to the bouncing pillow. As soon as all were gone, Brooklyn woke up and started screaming at me. I guess she might have been hungry but there was nothing I could do about that. I couldn’t find her always near pacifier either. The only bottle I had was in the freezer and it contained booze. I thought about it but I figured if I drank a Mar-go-rita, it would only dull the pain in my ears for a second or two. So I paced around and patted her little bottom until help arrived. Christine took her from me, laid her on the dining table to change her and Brooklyn immediately shut up and began to smile. If I had known that putting her flat on her back and letting her kick her feet was all she wanted well, I could have done that. We all sat around and talked for awhile and then I fired up a chimney of coals for the grill. Joel and his girl friend Ashley were planning to come for burgers and baked sweet potatoes. I threw some Bubba Burgers on the grill, started a camp fire and put the Beatles in the coach CD player. When Joel and Ashley arrived I handed them each an adult juice box. Ashley, who had never been in the coach before, got the ten cent tour. Dinner was good. The conversation was good. Smores afterwards were good to. The evening flew by and soon the boys, Diane and I were left alone in the coach. We hit the bed around eleven. Sunday was simple. We packed up and were out of the KOA by noon. Home by one, boys gone by three. A quick weekend but it was really nice. Carson and Austen loved it. Christine got some time to herself, as much as you can get with a newborn daughter. Diane and I got to spend time with our grandsons. There is nothing wrong with that. I look forward to taking them out again. -Gramps-

Glad to have you on board.

I believe that I am a pretty good motor coach pilot. I still believe that, even though I hit my mailbox while making a sharp turn into our driveway. Obviously I didn’t pull up the street far enough and turn sharp enough, but no real damage done, except to my pride. My car driving skills while making service calls … that is another thing altogether. I tend to talk on my cell too much while driving. I get distracted by the radio, the voices in my head, and the vehicles in front of me. The last thing really bugs me. I can be behind a dump truck, or a bus carrying seniors, while talking to a customer on the phone and I will blindly follow the bus down some street and then wonder how I got there. If you were to ask Diane about it, she would say that I followed it because I couldn’t help myself, that I did it instinctively, like a salmon swimming upstream. “You think so?” I would say to her. “Yep,” she might reply. “You are an old man and subconsciously you know you should be on that bus.” “Very funny. So how do you explain my following a dump truck?” “I can answer that. Because when you have rocks in your head you are magnetically attracted to trucks hauling large quantities of the same material.“ Well, I don’t make stupid driving decisions when driving the coach. Not many, anyway. Our first year as owners of a motor coach was the worst getting into scrapes which included hitting a fence (actually the fence hit me), a mailbox, a tree, a tree, (no that is not a typo) a rock or two (they hit my coach windshield). I think that is about all. Oh, I ran over a low rock wall with our second coach, the one we have now, and I hit a telephone pole (actually the pole hit me). If I were to list all the mishaps including bangs, bumps, holes, rips, and things that make you say, “What the heck was that!” along with all the things that break on their own … I might have to ask myself the following question: What in the world has kept me in the RVing (motor coaching) world for the last seven years? That question is easy to answer. Family. It is the people we have met, the friends we have made that keep me looking forward to hitting the road again even though I might hit something else or it might hit me. We RVers, we motor coachers, are a rare breed. I don’t know how to explain it to people who don’t do what we do how easy it is for us to make friends. Just the other day I was at a Sonic Drive In next to a Lowes. At the edge of the Lowes parking lot was a good -looking 36 foot motor coach. It had its jacks down and its slideouts extended. Sitting in a lawn chair on the grass was a man named Bob and his black lab. Bob was taking it easy, smoking a cigar and seemed to be without a care in the world. I walked over and started talking to him. When I told Bob I was a coacher as well, he gave me a big smile and started telling me about himself. Bob was visiting his daughter, a Navy officer, who was soon to be deployed to the Middle East. He and his wife had traveled from Arizona to see her. I told him about myself, my family and my coach. We talked for over an hour and parted as friends. Something tells me I will see him again one day. I think we have the old American pioneering spirit still living in us. We are descendants of the people who loaded up their covered wagons and headed west. They would rally up at some fort on the trail. They shared food, and drink and stories. These stories were about their journeys and the friends they made along the way. They would make new friends as they would travel together. If someone’s wagon broke down, or a horse died, they would pitch in and help their fellow traveler in need. We do the same thing now. I have helped repair a stuck Workhorse or two. My wife and I have been to lots of rallies and fed lots of people. People have looked after us. Our coaching friends on the forums, at campouts and especially at Deer Creek Motorcoach resort helped us though some tough times this last year. I don’t think that Barry and Mario had any idea what kind of community they would be giving birth to when they conceived the idea of building a motor coach resort. Deer Creek is more than a resort with clubhouse, golf course and a lot of handsome coaches parked on pretty lots. It is not just a resort … it is a refuge. It is a fort full of good people. We are family. I would not give up this life for anything. I will continue to hit the road and take the risk that something unexpected might happen. Most of the time that unexpected thing is good, like meeting someone like Bob and making a friend, possibly for life. That is the best thing about being a member of the motor coach Family. Hopefully I won’t have to buy a new mailbox anytime soon. Gramps.

Thanks you two. I am looking forward to hitting the road for long periods of time one day.

Someone once said that people who design motorhome interiors are smoking something more than cigarettes.

It sure feels good to get back out there doesn't it? I look forward to the time I am out there full time. That is what we hope to do...one day.

According to my outdoor wireless thermometer it is currently 43 degrees Fahrenheit. I am sitting comfortably in my motorcoach listening to two things ... a worship CD and the intermittent sound of ice falling inside the fridge. I am defrosting and so is the fridge. As you may have gathered from my previous blog entries, or lack thereof, I have been pretty much frozen in place at home maintaining my business. Our coach has just been sitting waiting for us to come back to it. This last Tuesday we finally made it back home to Deer Creek Motorcoach Resort (the One in Galax Virginia!). The moment the automatic gate started to open and I had an unimpaired view of the hills, my heart started to melt. We unpacked the over packed car and hauled all our stuff into the coach. The first thing on our list (after putting out the slide outs and water connections and such) was to move all the stuff in the cooler to the refrigerator. I opened it and all the bottles of water and Arizona iced tea that had been in there since July 15th were frozen solid. I didn't want to deal with this right now so I loaded it up and placed some containers of hot water under the coils in order remove some of the ice that had built up around them. Once that was done, and all our other items were put away we headed out the door to explore our home away from home and more importantly to see our friends. The place has changed, a lot. There are coaches parked on newly poured pads and new cabins going up almost every day. The golf course has new green markers and the numbers have been changed. It is no longer my private golf course by default. There are plenty of players who use it now. That is a good thing. Golf courses, just like motorcoaches, need people using them. If both had souls they would long for people to use them. I sometimes think my coach does have a soul. I could have sworn I heard a sign of relief when we came through the door. "Finally, they are back, I hope that they have come to take me out on the road !" We will be taking the coach back to our stick house when we leave next week. The summer is over for us. It was short and not so sweet. Frankly I am relieved it is over. We look forward to a quiet Thanksgiving including a camping weekend in Williamsburg, celebrating Teddy Bear Day, followed by a good Christmas. We will spend some time with our FMCA chapter over the Holidays. New Year's Day plus one or two should find us heading to Florida and Fort Wilderness. A long peaceful road trip. It is just what we need. It will unwind the knots in my soul. Just thinking about traveling down the road makes me feel like a motorcoacher again. Once I start feeling like a motorcoacher again, I start thinking like one too. When I think like a Motorcoacher my head fills up with ideas. Here are a few. A clear plastic sewer connection is a good thing to use. That way you will see the juice box that your grand kids dumped in the toilet as it makes its final destination. Your tool kit should always include a small volt ohm meter. You can check your battery voltages, check for loose grounds (the bane of most 12 volt systems) and do an accurate check of fuses to see if they are still viable. Dental floss will work really well to make a quick repair of broken day-night shade strings. I carry a curved upholstery needle, outdoor UV resistant thread and fabric glue. Those three things will help you greatly extend the life of your awnings and slide out toppers. Run a bead of UV resistant Fabric glue along all your topper seams. It will keep the thread from rotting so fast. My supply kit also includes a couple of cans of spray-on silicon protectant. I spray that good stuff on my patio umbrellas, slide out toppers and various other cloth things that get exposed to the outdoor sunshine and rain. Don't buy cheap self leveling caulk. It doesn't self level but it will crack. I found out that the hard way and now I have to do a couple of roof repairs over again. I carry of lot of baking soda. It does wonders to clean out gray tanks and P traps. It gets rid of odors and cleans up the tank sensors. If you want to do something really nice for your spouse, buy them a Kindle. You will become a hero. A Kindle makes a great gift for the road. I gave my wife one inside a leather case with a built in light. She loves it. Satellite receivers produce a lot of heat when in use. Unfortunately most coach cabinets that house them are poorly vented. Add a vent and better yet, add a muffin fan. You just may save yourself a lot of aggravation and not miss the big game because your receiver baked itself to death. Note to Self : Cell Repeaters really do work in bad cell coverage areas, except when you don't own one. (I need to make an online call to Amazon.com) Amour-all Extreme Shine Spray on Detailing works really well on painted fiberglass. Hang a small wind chime on your tv antenna handle. That way when you forget to lower it before you pull out of the campsite you will get an audible reminder. You just might save your antenna and your roof. You can learn a lot by being a member of a Motorcoaching Forum! A cold day in the Motorcoach sure beats a hot sweaty day working in some stuffy, dirty, overhead pulling wires. I am back in the Saddle again. Man, I sure have missed it.

I have the best of both worlds. Lower maintnance and fuel costs, great brakes, and a very quiet coach, quieter than a diesel pusher.

Diane, Teddy Bear, and myself are doing well today. It has been a hectic and yes stressful couple of months. Today however I don't want to write about that. I will soon. Today I want to be hopeful, to remember that even during rough times there is a greater power at work. So until I can find the time to write again, I thought it would be good to reprise one of my entries, one that seems appropriate considering the significance of today. Derrick Just a few days before I had this dream that Diane, while walking Nickolas our dog, was attacked by a pit bull. It almost killed her. Maybe that event triggered the dream. Who knows, the human mind and spirit are wonderful mysteries. I Had a Strange Dream Last Night I had a strange dream last night. I was having trouble sleeping. My eyes hurt. I couldn't take the light from the clock on my stereo on top of the dresser. I finally heaved myself out of bed and moved a glass candle holder in front of that blasted blue light. Then I stumbled into the bathroom and by the faint glow of a street light coming through the curtained window, opened the medicine cabinet and struggled with a bottle of Advil. I took one with a handful of water and headed back to bed. In the short time I was gone the dog had taken my spot so I told him to move, which he grudgingly did. I crawled in next to Diane and quietly waited for the pill to take effect and help me sleep. At some point it must have worked. Maybe it worked too well. I found myself drifting out of my body. Slowly, I drifted about the room. I turned and saw Diane and I curled up as one, Nickolas at our feet. And then everything started to zoom out smaller and smaller until my surroundings were just a blur. I realized I was traveling somewhere at an impossible speed, but I had no idea where, but I felt no fear just a sense of patient anticipation, a strange mixture to be sure. I slowed down and began to recognize where I was, my daughter Jeri's home in Florida. I floated in place, the front of the white house illuminated by the moon. I could see the brown lizards with the blue tails, maybe the same ones I saw on my last visit, running across the walkway to her front door. I wondered how she and her husband Mark were doing, and the thought had barely entered my head when I started moving toward the door and then through it, like it was made out of strings of beads. I could feel myself pass through it; see it separate into segments around me. Once on the other side it appeared to still be solid. I floated into their bedroom, they were asleep, Jeri resting her head on Mark's shoulder. She was gently snoring. I hoped that I did not have to be concerned about them. All is peaceful here I thought. The room shrank and disappeared. I found myself flying to wherever again, some things around me recognizable, palm trees, street lights, buildings all blending together in stretched shades of blue and streaks of light. Soon it became so black I could see nothing around me at all. The air became warm and I could smell salt. Then I heard it. I was over the ocean. I moved out from the blackness I was in, to a stadium of stars, a carpet of luminous blue below me. Off in the distance I could see the horizon and perched on it a moving light. I drifted toward it or should I say I was moved toward it, the sea wind blowing gently around me. The lights came closer and closer and then I saw that it was a ship. Is it?....Is it?....It is! The Voyager of the Seas! No doubt about it! But why was I here? I came along the port side of the ship, drifting forward and then up to the top deck, into the bridge, always wanted to visit there, out and then down like a fast moving elevator. I found myself coming to a slow stop in the Royal Promenade. There were only a few people about, all dressed up. Tonight is obviously Formal night, I thought, and it's very late….and …hey this is the Centrum and Wow, Back up! I passed through the decks, one by one and slowed down, turned through the pastel passageway past a familiar Egyptian art display in a glass case and found myself parked, my feet (I guess I had feet) a few inches above the carpet in front of a cabin with the number 1234 on it. I know this cabin. Diane and I stayed here! When was it? It must have been a long time ago. I could not remember, my memory suddenly seemed fuzzy for some reason. I slowly passed though the closed door, a sensation I knew I would never get used too, and into the cabin. There was a reading light on over the bed. In the bed was a couple, I assumed they were husband and wife. The balcony curtain was open and the door was cracked, letting the very warm sea breeze blow the shears across the foot of the bed. I could hear the sea massaging the ship. On the couch was a cast off tux, white shirt and tie. A long black velvet dress was hanging neatly from the divider next to the couch. I caught the glint of one gold cuff link sitting next to a gold watch on the nightstand. I hung there and made a slow spin. On the coffee table was a glass of water, numerous bottles of pills, and a partially consumed yellow cake. It has to be their anniversary, I thought. I turned around a bit more. I could see the reflection of the room in the mirror, but the reflection did not include me. I found that a bit curious. I took a closer look at the two people. Though the room felt very warm, she looked pale and was covered up to the chin, except for one arm, with a familiar brown blanket. They looked about my age, maybe a bit younger. I noticed that their hands were clasped so tightly together that the knuckles were white, like they were holding on to each other for dear life. "They have been together as Man and Wife for over thirty years." My heart leapt in my disembodied chest. I had never heard that voice before but I recognized it at once. A tremendous feeling of peace came over me. I could not speak. They have? I thought. "Yes, and they have known each other since second grade." I looked at those intertwined fingers, and thought there is something wrong. "She's dying" My feeling of peace started to leave. I found my voice "Why? From what?" "Does it matter what?" said the voice gently. "No, I guess not." I said "She must be really scared." "She is more afraid for him than he is for her" answered the voice. "Why, is that? She's the one who is dying!" "She is afraid for him because he does not believe in me." And then I understood her fear, and I began to understand something else too. "He won't ask you to make her well will he?" I said. "He refuses, only because he does not know how to ask me." "Hasn't she asked you?" "She loves him so much that she only talks to me about him." "But she believes you can make her well doesn't she?" "She believes." "So do I." "Yes, I know that", said the voice. There was a sudden burst of lightning off in the distance. It filled the room like a reflected flash. I looked down at the woman and I could see color come into her face and lips. Her breathing became deeper and a bead of sweat broke out on her upper lip. She let go of her husband's hand sat up looked around the room and I could have sworn she looked right at me. "It's hot in here" she said softly. And then she kicked the blanket off onto the floor, rolled over on her stomach and put her arm around her husband. It started raining, the wonderful sounds and smells of one of those random little Caribbean squalls being pushed through the open balcony door by a cool breeze. I knew it was time to leave. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the somewhat creepy pass back through the door but in an instant my eyes were shocked back open by the sound of loud techno dance music. I was in the Vault. The place was packed. The lights were flashing. I was standing in the back part of the lounge. And I was no longer disembodied. I was wearing my single button tux, wing collared shirt, and the blue brocade vest I wore to our daughter Jeri's wedding. This was weird to say the least. Even stranger was that I knew, somewhere in the room, was a man and a woman that I was supposed to meet. I had to talk to the man first. I went upstairs to the second level bar and walked over to a young man, with a military style haircut, in his thirties most likely, who was sitting at the bar sipping a Coke. "Scott?" He turned around and gave me a somewhat puzzled look. "Yes…do I know you?" he asked. "Not exactly, but we do have a mutual friend, who told me to look you up… can I sit here and talk for a minute?" "Sure'' he answered. "Who told you I would …" Before he could finish his question I had planted myself on a bar chair and interrupted him. "I know you recently returned from a very tough tour of duty in Afghanistan. I know you went active from the reserves so you could go there because your sister was killed in the World Trade Center on 911. I know you are on this cruise at the suggestion of friends, who think, or hope that you will meet a, or should I say, The girl who might help bring a little joy back into your life. Am I right?" He looked shocked and after a pause and a swallow of his drink he answered. "Ah, yea, correct on all counts" he said. And then with a smile added "They told me they were praying that I would find her on this cruise." I looked at him hard. "If I told you that the answer to that prayer is downstairs would you let me take you to her?" It was now his turn to look hard at me. He did not answer. I sang, "Wake up….Wake up Dead Man…Our Father...He's in charge of Heaven, and He made the world in seven… Scott finished for me…. "Would you put a word in… for me…?" A moment of silence. "That word has been put in. Will you let me take you to her?" I gently asked again. He choked out one word "Yes." "Okay, let's go" We walked down the glass stairs to the lower section. On the way I told him a little about Ginny, the girl that he was about to meet. "She likes daisies and roses. Her favorite food is seafood and she loves steamed mussels. She likes to dance swing, but she hasn't done it in quite awhile. Her favorite music group is U2. I saw the incredulous look on his face and told him it is my favorite group as well. "I am going to tell you one more thing and then the rest is better left up to you. Her fiancé was killed at the Pentagon." "On 911?" said Scott. "Yes." I led the way to a table with two attractive women sitting at it. One sat quietly in her chair, the other was more animated. It was obvious that they were sisters. Not twins but close. "Hello there." They turned around and look up at us. I took Ginny's hand and as I gently raised her out of her seat I said: "Ginny this is Scott. Scott this is Ginny. It has been divinely arranged for the two of you to meet on this night at this time and at this place. Now I think you two should sit down and start getting to know each other." Ginny looked nervously at me and then at Scott, who gave her a warm smile. She seemed to relax a bit and looked at her sister who was now on her feet as well. "This is my sister and I…' "Don't you worry about Barbara, she and I will finish this dance." I said I took the sister by the hand and as I led her to the dance floor I whispered to Scott "Walk on Scott, Walk on" He smiled. I am sure he got my message. Barbara looked at me like I was a mildly crazy person. We reached the floor just as the song Caught in a Moment finished playing (the evening was planned don't forget) I leaned close to Barbara's ear. "Scott is the direct answer to your very direct prayer. You have to keep this a secret; they will get married on your birthday." She started to cry. The song ended, the moment was over and I said goodbye. "I have to go." I said. "You, your sister, and Scott are going to have a good life; you just have to choose to live it." Barbara looked at me, nodded and said "Who are you? What is your name?" "My name is Derrick and I'm Diane's husband." I held one of her hands in both of mine for a moment and then walked out the door to the Centrum on deck three. I was not at all sure what to do next. Just a few minutes earlier I was practically a ghost and now I was literally standing in front of an elevator, by myself in a tuxedo with no place to go. I reached out and pushed the elevator button. It came; I stepped in, the carpet said Tuesday. When I went to bed it was Friday, and I seemed to remember that Voyager's formal nights were Monday and Thursday. Space and time were a bit off. I took the elevator to deck 5 because I wanted to walk the Royal Promenade as long as I could actually walk. The elevator opened and instead of turning right towards the Café Promenade and all its goodies (I don't know if I could have eaten one or not) I had the urge to turn left into Cleopatra's Needle. I walked in. The place was packed with people. It was Karaoke night just like the Tuesday night on my cruise. I stood out of the way in the back. I felt a little self conscious considering I was the only man in a tux, but no one seemed to notice me at all. I began to wonder if they could even see me. A couple of people sang and the order seemed very familiar. And then I heard my named called. "Is Derrick here?" I hesitated to answer; after all I was not sure I was really here or not. Before I could decide what to do a man sitting on the edge of the dance floor stood up and walked over to the host or hostess. She handed him the mike and said tell everyone your name, where you are from and why you are here. "Hi, my name is Derrick; I'm from Portsmouth Virginia……" A big cheer went up from the section to the left of the floor. I almost fell over because I stupidly realized that I was watching myself. Talk about Déjà vu. I had to sit down. As I took a chair next to an older couple I heard myself say: "… and I am celebrating my 30th anniversary. I would like to sing this song to my wife Diane who is sitting over there". He or I pointed to where she was sitting with her shoes off and her feet up on the chair in front of her. The other I then stepped towards Diane. There was a big cheer, as I remembered it; only out in the audience it was really loud. The music started, this time I was a spectator. I watched myself look at my wife and she looked back and neither looked away, even for a second. Most of the people around me were chatting with each other. But as the song progressed they stopped talking and started to listen, really listen… If I called you every time that I think of you…the phone would be ringing, all day. I keep thinking these feelings will mellow with time but not yet, no way. We've had our share of heartache and trouble, we can look back and laugh at it now, but a mystery keeps haunting me, how we hurt those we love most somehow, somehow. A real love expression is long overdue, so hear my confession of my love for you-I just never say it enough, and before it's too late and time's up; you're more than all I dreamed you'd be, an answered prayer, a gift of God above. But I just never say it enough. I believe God inhabits the human heart. I believe it more now than ever before and I see His reflection in You, in You, and I'm sure, yes I'm sure.. that a real love expression is long overdue, so hear my confession of my love for you- I just never say it enough…so before it's too late and time's up, you're more than all I dreamed you'd be, an answered prayer, a gift of God above. Some of the women started to cry, some of the men too. I had no idea that the song had that much impact and then I realized my face was wet also. But I just never say it enough. I just never say it; I just never say it enough. Nooo, I just never say it, I just never say it enough. Noooo… oh…. oh." I finished the song, the crowd all came to their feet and cheered, and it was loud. I watched myself put the mike back on the stand, take a little bow and run over and kiss Diane. I knew she was crying also. The hostess then told the audience that I was not part of the competition; I just wanted to sing something special for my wife and she hoped that after thirty years that they would be as much in love as Derrick and Diane. It was very strange. I wanted to soak up the moment from this perspective but I could not help but notice the older couple sitting next to me. The man looked familiar and then I remembered that Diane and I met him on the pier in San Juan. We were both on the Explorer and he told me he was a retired Israeli fighter pilot. He had served during the Six Day War. During the song the woman, who must be his wife, took his hand and stroked it. At first he did not seem to respond. But now, he twisted his seat around so that he could look directly at her. "I'm sorry, so sorry. I should not have gotten so mad at her. But what could I do? Now she is gone and I am dying inside. I have hurt you so much. How will we be able to look back at this? How will we be able to smile again, how can I laugh again?" The wife looked at him. "I don't know how, but we will, the song says so, somehow with God's help, we will." They both looked so unhappy and full of sorrow. I had a feeling that they had lost someone very close to them "Tell them that Sarah is with me" The voice startled me. "Derrick, tell them that their grand daughter Sarah is with me and that she is fine." I had to do what He said. I moved over in front of them and went down on one knee. "Hello, my name is Derrick…" They both looked at me and then looked again and then both of them looked at the couple sitting on the edge of the dance floor, the man, me, with his arm around his wife. I hoped that they were not about to scream or pass out or both. The man was speechless the woman finally spoke. "How can you be here and there…" I put my finger on my lips. "Shh, that is not so easy to explain. Besides I have something very important to tell you. Your grand daughter Sarah is in heaven, she is doing fine, and loves you both very much" They both stared at me for a long, long second and then the man took my arm. Tears ran slowly down his cheek as he told me that he had argued with Sarah about the man she planned to marry. "I did not approve of him at all. I did not like his family. They are not of our faith. Sarah said he is a good man, an honorable man who loves God and her. I became very angry and told her that she was as good as dead to me if she married this man." He had to pause. I waited. "She did not get the chance to marry him.. She died, at the hand of a terrorist. She was attending a birthday party for one of his friends and it was bombed. She was with him. He barley survived. I blamed him for her death. . I was a fool." His wife smiled gently "Yes you were" she said. "What should I do know?" he asked. "Love your wife, have peace, and ask the man that was to be Sarah's husband to forgive you. And be his friend. Be the Grandfather in law that you would have been. That is what you should do." "I think I can do that." I stood up, they stood with me and I embraced them both. "God be with you " "And you" he answered. I turned and walked out of the lounge and into the Royal Promenade. I slowly walked the length of the ship looking up at the windows of the cabins and into the shops. I thought about my time on this ship. When I was here I was relaxed. I trusted the captain and the crew to look after me and my wife. I knew that the ship and its' crew would provide everything we needed and then some. I never had the thought of telling the captain that I wanted to be in charge of my trip, that I wanted to pilot the ship because I did not like where it was going or because it was not getting there fast enough. I put my wife and my life in his hands so to speak. Should I not put the same trust into the Captain of the greatest voyage of all, the voyage called Life? I wanted to see the ocean so I went through the glass sliding door out to the deck. I walked over to the railing and I put my hands down on nothing. I found myself passing through the railing and out into the open air the ship slowly moving away from me. I was not worried. I must be going home. I floated there for a long time, the ship moving farther and farther away until once again it was just a few lights on the horizon. I looked at the millions of stars above me and the luminous blue below. And then everything became a blur again. I flew quickly toward home, soundlessly. I began to slow and soon I recognized the lights of my town. I have seen them from the air many times. But something seemed different; things were missing and others out of place. I drifted down to an empty downtown street. Not a soul about. Now I knew something was not right. The brand new fifteen story hotel was missing. A completed condo now looked half built. I realized that I was looking at Portsmouth some years earlier. I was not concerned, not after what had taken place the last few hours or minutes or days. Slowly I floated down street after street until I came to a hospital. I drifted through the front door. There were only a few people about. This had to be the past because this hospital had been closed for years. It was obvious that no one could see me. I continued up through the ceiling and found myself in the maternity ward. It was very quiet, most of the lights turned off. As I passed by an open door I could hear the sound of a new mother singing to her new baby. I moved down the hall through a partially opened door into a room. Lying on the bed was a young man, a lot younger than me anyway. His hands covered his face and it sounded like he was talking to himself, no he's praying. He had on jeans and sneakers and a gray Swatch watch just like an old watch that I own. He dropped his hands for a moment and then I knew exactly where I was and when. It was eighteen years ago, the night that my son was born; the night that he was so sick and my wife almost died. I knew she was in recovery from emergency surgery and my son was in the neonatal unit of the hospital. The man lying on the bed was me. For the first time during this strange trip of mine, I felt fear. The same fear and near panic I felt that May night eighteen years ago, the fear that I would loose two people. I did not want to experience that kind of fear again. I wondered why I was here. "You are here to tell him everything will be fine." said the voice. "You are here to tell him not to fear. That I have heard him and his family will be well." "How do I tell him or me? Can I see me? I mean I think I would have remembered if I met myself that night. I would have had a heart attack or something" I was sure I spoke out loud and it I could see that the younger me did not hear a thing. "Whisper to his heart and to his mind, he will hear you." "Lord, I don't understand, can't you do that? Why do you need me?" "Derrick you know the future, you know that it turned out fine, you can speak with complete confidence and the younger you needs to learn that when I speak to people, I do so quietly to their hearts and minds, and with the sound of their own voice. I don't set bushes on fire anymore. I don't write on walls. I simply give peace, a peace that is hard to understand but is very real… so speak for me." I did not know what else to do but move close to my own ear. "It's okay. Joel is fine, relax, get up and go see him. And then go to Diane and tell her that your son is doing well." The face of the me on the bed no longer looked strained and worried. He stretched, got up, took a sip of water from a glass on the bed tray and then left the room. I followed and watched him go into the nursery where his son, his little body full of tubes, lay in an incubator. He reached in and rubbed the little boy's back. I knew that Diane was just down the hall. She lay there in a morphine induced sleep. I knew she would be okay. There was only one thing that I wanted to do now. "Can I go home?" There was a very quick blur and I guess at the speed of thought, I found myself back in my bed with my feet solidly under the dog, my wife, with her bandaged ankle and arm lying exactly where I had left her, curled right next to me. "Where did you go?" My wife asked sleepily. "Honey, I have been lying here the whole night, except when I got up to get an Advil" "Oh, you were gone so long. I'm glad you're back." "Me too, go back to sleep." The dog yawned, I yawned and I thought about this cruise we are on. This cruise called Life. I know the captain. No need to worry. Derrick

Fire and Rain. That is the headline of our local paper this morning. I thought of it as the title of my blog entry days ago, but I wasn’t fast enough to use it first. The headline sure fits our present situation. The Dismal Swamp has been on fire for weeks. The fire has thrown a big cloud of smelly, acrid, blue smoke that moves around which makes being outside an unpleasant experience. The only hope to ending the fire was a time of heavy continuous rain. Well, we are getting that now, as I write this. It has been some week for my family. It reads like the plot of some bad short story...”The Parker Family Saga” written with 2000 words or less. Here is the synopsis: Saturday….Mom of wife dies from Stroke. Tuesday….Daughter has really big baby. Wednesday…Family (minus daughter) attends funeral of Mom of Wife Thursday….Father of family goes back to work and hopes to finish 2 month long project. And has to make hurricane preparations at same time Friday….Father visits customers to help batten down their phone systems and still works to open a large medical practice. Comes home and does as much as he can to get ready for a hurricane. Saturday….Father sits in from of computer and writes blog, hoping to post soon in case power goes out. Sunday...gives thanks to God that family made it through one crazy week. Also gives thanks that the Fire is out and the Rain is gone Makes for quite the story don't you agree? Derrick

An outside windshield sun screen can drop the inside temp by more that 15 degrees....closed window curtains do not work as well, neither will an inside sun screen.

I recently installed Wifi for a Motorcoach resort covering 21 acres. It took one gateway (ap) and one remote hub to make it all work. It works great. So if any rv parks want help just let me know.

I don't think it is all that hard. Try this first...put a bit of Vaseline on the valve handle shaft. It may not be shutting all the way closed.

We have been sitting on lot #3 at the Deer Creek Motorcoach Resort (The one in Galax, Virginia) for about 18 days now, give or take a day. For most of the last five it has been raining hard. If there was ever any question about how well our coach roof is sealed, we now have the answer ... it is definitely waterproof. I performed maintenance on it just before the monsoon arrived. I washed it, resealed some of the seams with self-leveling Dicor sealant, the kind that needs a caulk gun to apply, and repaired some holes and rips in the slideout toppers. I also spray painted the chassis rails with black rust killing paint. That operation was more for cosmetics than anything else. This visit to Deer Creek has been a bit of a strange one. It started out with the promise of sunshine, golf and walks in the woods. Two days after our arrival, tragedy came. It forced us to change our plans and make new ones. Diane flew to Florida from Greensboro, North Carolina, on May 4. She returned on Mother's Day. Teddy Bear and I met her at the airport. It was clear from her expression that it had been a rough trip. The flight was okay; it was the event itself that was so tough to go through. Watching your grandson be born only to see him die a few hours later is not something that I personally want to be a witness to. I suffered the loss from the comfort of my coach, surrounded by God's countryside and with friends close by. Diane was right there with our daughter and husband. There are no adequate words to express the sadness that fell over all of us, but for those in the hospital it was such a deep emotional experience that it drained some of the life out of them. Now comes the questions, most of which have no answers, or maybe they have the same answer and that is, "We can't know why some things happen, just trust that the Lord is in charge." What else can be said when it comes to the death of a newborn baby? What else can be said when a pregnancy goes wrong and forces a child that can't survive to be born early? It seems like a simple, almost-cliche answer, but it is the only one that will allow the one asking it to have any peace. "Just trust the Lord." Now we are trying to get on with our lives. Diane lost a week, so to speak, here at Deer Creek, so we added another one. That would have been fine if it wasn't for the fact it has rained and rained and then rained some more. We have managed to make a quick trip to Mt. Airy for some walking and shopping. We did have a picnic up on the Blue Ridge Parkway and hike one of our favorite trails. I lost a camera lens hood during that trip. I dropped it in a swift flowing creek and it disappeared downstream before I could get to it. Normally, losing an expensive camera accessory, which has happened a couple of times over the years, would bother me to no end, but this time it annoyed me for only a few minutes. Now I am just sitting here in the coach, looking out the bedroom window at the dark clouds still hanging over our heads. I am asking God to move them on, blow them away, the clouds in the sky and the ones in my heart. Pour on the Sunshine because we need to know that sunny warm days still are possible. They are, of course. Everything passes and most of the time it gets better. It takes just that ... time. Family helps. My Mom and Dad drove up from Lexington for one day. We took a trip north on the Parkway to a quaint little place called Fancy Gap. We ate sandwhiches a a great little deli ... the Gap Deli, as a matter of fact. Then we went shopping at a gift/garden center. I bought a large concrete Wren for one of our flower beds. Diane bought a hand painted weathered board from a barn. It has flowers and Welcome painted on it. We later added the number 3 to it. After visiting the gift shop we went to a clothing outlet. Both Mom and Diane found something really nice but still really cheap or should I say low priced. We drove back to Deer Creek in a hugh downpour. Friends help. The day after Diane left for Florida, Gordy and Bill, two of my fellow owners and neighbors, convinced me to go golfing at Gordy's club. I didn't feel much like it but Diane told me to listen to them and go. I played with some distraction but the fellowship was really good. While Diane was away I attended a Derby Day Party and Fish Fry at our clubhouse. I provided a large salad made of white and red grapes, blue cheese crumbles, walnuts, red cabbage and romaine lettuce. I dressed it with a home made fresh vinaigrette made from fresh lemon juice, chives and light olive oil. It contained no vinegar so maybe it should have been called a lemongrette. I bet on the favorite horse "Dialed In" to win but I lost a buck to the person who bet on "Animal Kingdom" the 34 to one long shot. Good thing I didn't have to pay out according to the odds. Keeping busy helps. I extended the the Wi-Fi to the back of the resort. It wasn't that hard to do. I installed a wireless repeater. Due to the rain I have not permanently mounted it. Hopefully I can do that before the week is out. There are plenty of ways to keep busy when owning a motor coach. I washed the coach last week. I have washing and waxing the coach down to a science. I use Blue Coral concentrated car wash and a deck brush on the roof of my coach. It is a stronger detergent based cleaner and has brighteners in it. It does a great job of cleaning a white fiber glass roof and will remove stains from chalking and rubber really well when applied at full strength. It will steak the side of the coach so always wash the roof first. Don't wash it at all unless prepared to clean the whole coach. For washing the coach I use the Mr Clean Pro system. It is no longer in production which keeps me from buying the filters and the special cleaner for the system. They might be available online but I don't feel like going to the trouble of buying that way. After some experimenting I found easily available substitutes for the water filter and the cleaner. I use an inline water filter readily available at Wal-Mart and for the cleaner I found that Armour All Extreme Shine car wash, the orange stuff, and a long handled soft bristle brush works very well. I prefer to use Protect All when waxing the coach. Unfortunately, it is not as easy to get as it used to be. Wal-Mart's RV section has shrunk to almost nothing over the last few years and they had the best price. Now they don't carry it at all. The next best thing is once again an Armour All product....Extreme Shine Detailing Spray. It is made with Carnuba wax, sprays on easily and wipes right off. Just like Protect-All it can be used on all surfaces including chrome, clear coat, rubber and glass. I removed the non working wet bay heater. I directly connected it to my chassis battery and discovered that the heater functions fine. I still have a problem. I spent one day cleaning the inside of the coach which included repairing my wife's Dyson vacuum cleaner. I repaired a rattling bedroom speaker. Just a bit of Elmer's glue around the copper braided wires that pass through the paper cone of the speaker stopped the noise. I purchased an old fashioned foot edger. That tool and a bit of foot work improved the looks of pad #3 It now has a nice clean edge, full of standing water, all the way around. Writing helps. I wrote a letter to my grandson. I can't reread it without crying, but it still helped to write it. I am writing now and it feels pretty good to be doing so. Reading helps. After delivering Diane to the Airport, I purchased a book in a gift shop/bookstore. It is "The Art of Racing in the Rain." It is the sad and happy story of the life of a dog written from his point of view. That is an idea not foreign to me at all.... I finished reading it in one day. The same day Daniel was born and died. The book made me think that it is just possible that my grandson is playing catch on some beautiful piece of very green grass somewhere with Nickolas my dog. I will be with them one day. For now, I will enjoy being with Diane, my kids and grandsons, Teddy Bear, and my friends. I will also keep busy until one day gets here.

I have enjoyed being part of the motor home community. It means a lot to me. More than I can possible say. At this moment I am at Deer Creek Motorcoach Resort in Galax. It has been my refuge for the last few days. I am surrounded by my friends and I have needed them and they have been here for me. Yesterday I lost one of my grandsons. I never got the chance to meet him. Diane had to fly down to Florida to be with our daughter and her husband after we learned that her unborn baby boy who was going to be with us in just a few weeks was not going to be with us for long. I couldn't go with her and so I have been leaning on the community here and hugging the dog. I guess it has been Teddy's job to wash away my tears...and there has been a lot of them. As usual when I and my family are going thru a tough and emotional time I pray and I write........ Daniel, my dear grandson: You were with us for such a short time today and then you were gone. Your life was a sunset, here for a moment and then no more. Now your Mother, Father and Grandparents are left with memories of what we hoped you would bring to our lives. We looked forward to hearing you laugh, seeing you smile, holding you in our arms. You are loved by your Mom and Dad and your brother and the rest of your family. I hope you know that. The Bible tells us that you are wonderfully made, designed by God Himself. The book of Psalms says that God knew you before he placed you in your mother's womb. You must be something really special for God to change His mind and take you back to be with Him. I know you are special. You were so small and only hours old when you had to leave us. But I promise you, you have already done what only a child of loving parents can do. You have brought your Mom and Dad closer together. You have made them love your big brother all the more. You have made us all draw closer to God. There is a time to be born, a time to die, a time to laugh and a time to be sad and a time to morn. Only God knows why the time between those things is short or long. Daniel don't be sad for us, don't morn for us, we will survive. Daniel, I want you to laugh! I want you to shout for joy because you are with your Heavenly Father! There is one more thing I want you to do. When Jesus comes to your room, and I know you have one, because the Bible says so, and he offers you His hand to hold and says, "Let's take a walk," go with Him. When He shows you all the wonderful Heavenly things He has made including the planets and the stars, remember that all of us, your Mom and Dad, your brother, and your grandparents will be looking at them too. Daniel, we will be thinking of you and looking forward to the day that we can take that walk together. With all my love, Your Grandfather. In Memory of Daniel Thomas Wheeler Born 5/4/2011 Died 5/4/2011 .

I found out the buggy way that Murphy's Oil Soap and works great. That and a long handled brush.

Before Diane and I became Motorhome owners, and before my son entered college, we were avid cruisers. This is the story of our first one, which took place a bunch of years ago. This story, which I wrote years ago, will take up some blog space until next week when we shall once again hit the road in our UFO and I write about it. THE TANGO My wife Diane is always collecting stories and anecdotes from people. For years if she hears something interesting from somebody she will tell me about it. She will cut things out of the newspaper or a magazine and stick it on the refrigerator door for me to find. She also reads me e-mail. Just the other day she found a piece of mail that her cousin Elaine sent her months ago. Somehow it ended up in some pc desktop folder somewhere and she overlooked it. She found it just the other day, the same day she was told that her mother has Alzheimer's Disease. God woke a man during the middle of the night and told him that he would find a very large rock in his front yard. God told the man to get up and push it. The man wanted to do what God told him so he went outside and started pushing the rock. He pushed with his hands, his back and with his legs. He gave it everything he had but the rock would not move, not one little bit. For hours everyday he would push it. One night while lying in bed, exhausted from all the pushing, the devil came to him and said, "Why do you bother, you have not moved that rock at all. You are nothing but a failure." The man thought about this and complained to God. "Hey God what about it? I have pushed that rock for months now and it still sits there! Why tell me to move it when I can't?" God answered, "I never said anything about moving the rock, I told you just to push it. You can't move the rock. Only I can move it ... but now your legs are stronger, your back is stronger, your hands are tough and calloused …now you are no longer weak." My wife is strong. For years the rock that she pushed looked a lot like my head. We have been through some tough times, many of them Derrick-inflicted. I choose to be driven by a need to be successful in business (so driven that I took our savings and put them into a cash bleeding business without telling her) as opposed to being successful as a husband and father. But Diane keep pushing. One night God moved the rock. In May 1985, Diane spent four weeks in the hospital pregnant with our son Joel. She developed acute toxemia along with high blood pressure and spent most of those four weeks laying on her right side with the rails up on her bed and just over her head, a tongue depressor taped to the wall. At the end of three weeks Joel was delivered early by Caesarian section. He entered into this world with a very bad set of lungs. After delivery Diane's blood pressure shot up so high, it put her on the edge of a stroke. I could have lost them both. God took the rock from her and put it in my court, so to speak. In the span of one night I started to remember what was most important in my life, Diane and my kids. That night, I did a lot of pushing, or should I say praying? My son, who is now a champion cross-country runner, and my wife recovered. I started to recover but it took a while. I sold the business two years later; it also took me awhile to realize it was not much of a loss. So, Diane and I continued our cruise called life together, and this day found ourselves on this nice white ship .... We played a few more games of shuffleboard. She approaches the game with a lot of patience and moves the puck gracefully to the end of the court. Me, I slam the thing like Osama himself is my opponent and I want to tear his toes off, thus the phrase 10 OFF. "Not so hard" she says, hopping around on her left foot after failing to yield to a flying red disk. "For Pete's sake, it's only a game not a missile launching," So we went to the game room and tried our hand at Scrabble, where this time she beat the pants off me. Later that afternoon we went poolside to catch a few rays and a few hamburgers and check out a snorkeling demonstration. We planned to snorkel on our own at Playa Del Carmen the next day and at Cozumel with a group (including our tablemates Blair and Larry) the day after that. We hung around the pool for awhile, watched a few guys shoot skeet. Some of the shooters were a bit Coronafied so the clay pigeons were in no real danger. "Pull!" BANG! "**** I missed!" was often heard as the afternoon progressed. I was surprised to see how tall and how many drinks were being served. I was also surprised that the pool was full of saltwater. We did not stay around the pool too long. Diane "convinced" me that we would have fun taking a ballroom dance lesson in the Disco. I knew how to dance, well I could move anyway and do whatever it was that we did in the early 70's that we called dancing. We headed back to our cabin, grabbed a quick spritz, you could hardly call that thing a shower, changed and headed up to the Disco. We were the first potential students in the disco. There was a small couple there that looked to be quite a bit older than Diane and I. The woman was arranging chairs around the small dance floor and the man (who I couldn't help noticing was wearing a bad toupee) was setting up a portable record player on a table. We said hello and found them to be very animated and friendly. We made introductions all around. Their names were Lenny and Thelma. More people arrived so Lenny and Thelma suggested that to get things rolling they would demonstrate the dance that they were about to teach. Lenny started the record player and over the first few recognizable notes of the music announced in dramatic fashion that we were, in one lesson, going to become masters of "THE TANGO"….. Oh boy. It begins like this; the Man steps forward, woman steps backward. I watch them carefully. They seemed to know the proper steps but something seemed wrong. It did not look exactly like any Tango I had seen done on TV or in the movies, but of course that is not real life. We were on a cruise ship, which is closer to real life… right? STEP,STEP,STEP,,,SLIDE.,, STEP,STEP,STEP,SLIDE…I whispered to Diane that it looked like they were trying not to step in something nasty, getting in it anyway and then wiping their feet on the floor trying to get it off.. She told me to shut up. STEP, STEP, STEP, SLIDE, STEP, STEP,,DIP. Thelma received a halfhearted backwards bend from her partner. I think Lenny was afraid that if he bent over too far his toupee would end up on her nose. I thought to myself do I really want to learn this? "Yes you are going to do this with me" I forgot that Diane reads half empty minds. Out on the floor we went. Some frustrated minutes and bruised toes later we finished our lesson. It was my opinion, that trying to learn the Tango as one's first attempt at ballroom dancing coupled with the fact that the dance floor moved on its own every now then seemed a bit hard if not downright silly. Diane loved it, so it is just possible that my opinion was all wet. We finished our lesson, gave our thanks to our instructors and headed off to afternoon tea. Now that was something that I could handle without a lesson. Afternoon tea was great, lots of horse-d-ovaries, canapés and things like that. Dinner was only two and half hours away so Diane nibbled. I stuffed myself. Afterwards we strolled below to our cabin to get dressed for the first formal night. Diane wore a very attractive light blue and pink silk dress with a simple string of pearls and flat shoes. I put on my best suit, (it happened to be kaki colored) white shirt, tie and leather soled shoes. It did not take us long to change so we had some time to kill before dinner. Diane suggested we go up to the ballroom and practice what we had learned at our Tango lesson….oh boy. Sure why not. She smiled and headed up the stairs. I head down, reluctantly followed. Well, folks I tried, I really did. We must have been working at it for about thirty minutes when I did it, I creamed Diane's left foot. I mortally wounded those perfect little toes of hers. At the moment of impact tears came to all our eyes. "Oooooowwwww!" Off came her shoe and she limped to the nearest chair and set down hard. I expected her to heave her shoe at my head but she held on to it and her temper. I was just about to make an emphatic apology when I heard a male voice behind me say "Could you use some help?" I turned around to see a handsome older couple standing by the edge of the dance floor. He was a tall man wearing an obviously custom made tuxedo with a hand tied (at the moment untied) tie and she, much shorter than him, was wearing gold lame' evening slacks with an elegant orange blouse and matching fingernail polish. He reminded me of Tony Bennett and she looked like Janet Leigh, the way she looked in 1987. I don't remember their names so I will Call them Tony and Janet. Diane, who by this time was worried that I might turn her toes into something that resembled Vienna Sausages, of course said "Yes, we would appreciate any help you can give us." She never asked what kind of help he was offering. We introduced ourselves. "I see you must have taken Lenny's Tango lesson today." I nodded yes. Tony continued. "Well, Lenny is a very nice man" "His hair isn't" Janet interjected. Tony smiled, so did I "As I was saying, Lenny and Thelma are very nice people, but they have no business giving dance lessons. For some reason Lenny thinks he can, and the captain lets him because he cruises on this ship about sixteen times a year. He practically lives here….anyway, let Janet and I show you how the Tango should be done." He took her by the hand and the waist, and immediately she seemed to grow a foot taller. He stepped forward, no change that, he glided forward she moved back and across the floor they moved like mercury. No music, not a sound except the smooth rustling of their clothes. They moved as one, smooth and fluid …..one two three, one two three This is how to dance the tango! Feel the blood rise to your face with every beat; while an arm winds like a snake around a waist that is about to break. This is how to dance the tango and I swore their feet never came off the floor, like they were ice skating. I was amazed. Somewhere I read that the Tango has beat, impact and nuances. It is not a soft wave turned into music, it is the deepest dance in the world. Tony and Janet walked over to us. '' Now we show you" Tony took Diane by the waist and Janet took my hand and said…. "The Tango is a dance of seduction. The man must lead, he must lead forcefully, he steps forward the woman steps backward, and you move like water across the floor. And you move as one okay?. Now take my waist and lead me. No do not look at your feet. You cannot seduce a woman by looking at her feet, you must look her deep in the eyes, again!….good, good now you are catching on'' I thought I must have been terrible. Tony said "you know Janet and I watched you too dancing last night, you are very good together even when doing it wrong. You should take lessons. Well, we enjoyed it. Derrick, we will see you on the dance floor tonight eh?" I nodded yes. "Good, I may ask to dance with your beautiful wife again." The announcement came over that Main Seating was now being served. I had completely forgotten about dinner. Can you believe that? Now you may have noticed that this story seemed to be missing a beggining. That is so. Therefore before I tell you more about the Tango let me start from the very beginning. Originally it was written for a cruise blog and took days. You get the pleasure of reading it all at once! The Railing I am writing this while on hold with the Virginia Dept of Taxation in order to stop collections proceedings for a business tax bill that I have already paid and the check has cleared the bank. This is something that I have to do at least once a year. I keep hearing the same hold announcements over and over again along with Grazing in the Grass. It is in moments of stress like these that I imagine myself back on the deck of a cruise ship. In October of 1987, to celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary, my wife Diane and I went on our first cruise. It was a present from her father and it could not have come at a better time. For the previous four years I ran a start up telecommunications company that I was part owner of. In spite of, or because of, the fact that I gave it fifteen hours out of most days, I was not able to get it off the ground. So in June of that year my partners decided to sell it. I went to work for the very old, and very well set in their ways, family owned company that bought it. My going to work for them was part of the purchase agreement. The transition from boss to upper level manager was a little rough so I needed a vacation even if I didn't think so myself. We gave a lot thought to the cruise in the days leading up to it. Planning as a WE is one of the best consequences of cruising. What documents do we bring. What do we wear. What excursions do we take. We had not been a We in a while. We is good. The first day was a long one. The flight to Miami was fun, the embarkation was fun. Watching the other cruise ships leave with ours was fun. Our ship was the Chandris Galileo. She was a 28,000 ton dazzling white beauty with a big blue X on her stack. We found our little orange carpeted cabin with the RV like bathroom, explored the ship, held hands, more than we had in years, had an unbelievable dinner, went dancing, went to bed. I was beginning to feel like a new man. After Diane went to sleep I went up on deck for a solitary stroll. I walked aft to a part of the Promenade deck that jutted out over the sea. I turned around and faced forward. Completely alone, I could see down the whole length of the ship. The sky was full of stars. The ocean was a luminous deep blue. In the distance was the lighted outline of our companion cruise ships. The only sound was a divine mixture of the wind, the sea, and the thrum of the ship. I held on to the cool smooth mahogany, closed my eyes and just stood there with the warm 18 knot wind in my face. I remembered something. A verse. "He leadeth me beside still waters. He restoreth my soul." I could taste salt. It may have been the spray or it might have been tears. Maybe a bit of both. Night and Greek Sunrise I did not sleep much that night. A more accurate way of phrasing it would be I stayed awake well that night. I crawled back into bed with Diane, which was a tight fit since we were sharing a single bed. (Our cabin had an upper berth and two lower beds but I never asked if they could be converted into one.) I laid there, while gently rocking, listening to the sounds around me. Our outside cabin was on the lowest passenger deck and as a result the sound of the ocean was quite strong. There was also a regular creak like a rocking chair accompanied by a clicking noise as the ship moved back and forth then up and down. Creak click, creak, click. In the pale light from our large porthole I could see that the bathroom door latch was a bit loose. ( If I left the door open it would inform us just how much the ship was listing). The motion, the ocean, the creak, muffled steps down the corridor, my wife's baby like snoring, all told me that the ship was alive and breathing. It was one of the most peaceful nights of my adult life. Sometime before the first gray-blue light of morning I was jostled awake by a very attractive Greek woman rolling across me on her way out of our bed. I awoke to the pleasant sight of Diane in her Adam and Eve nightgown falling to the cabin floor with one brown barefoot trapped in the corner of the blanket. She gave her tootsies a liberating yank, at the same time informing me that we had a dawn to catch. Seeing the dawn was not the first thing on my activity list and I raised an inquiring eyebrow. She was literally hopping into her shorts, at the same time telling me No!, we are going to see the dawn, get dressed! Not being completely stupid I obeyed and then grabbed my Minolta. I watched Diane's backside (couldn't help myself) as we headed up to the Lido Deck or the Promenade Deck, or the Captain's Deck, one of those decks just in time to see a very distant dark white cloud show the first sign of a new paint job. I steadied my camera on the rail and did not have a long wait for God to put on a very good light show. It was glorious. I happened to look to me left and in the distance an ever enlarging Island was exhibiting its own amazing color changes. The Island of Key West seemed to be sailing toward us at the same time we were moving toward it. I looked at the Sunrise shining on my Greek Girl's smiling face. There was only one thing to say What's for Breakfast?! The Promenade Deck (sit down and eat your prunes) "Sir, breakfast in now being served for first seating in the dining room and the breakfast buffet is on the Promenade Deck." I turned around and there was a young lady in white shorts and a yellow shirt with a Staff badge on that said Juli no e. I thanked her. Breakfast on the Promenade Deck. Made me feel special. The Promenade Deck. The Lido Deck. The Captain's Deck. The MAIN Deck. All these names have a certain old fashioned charm and romantic quality about them. They remind me of the days before the big war (I wasn't there) or even earlier when gigantic 45,000 to 75,000 ton cruise ships crossed the Big Pond on a regular basis. The Mauritania, The Queen Mary, The France, the United States (for years she was dejectedly docked close to my home, Her once magnificent red stacks peeling sheets of paint. It was hard to keep my eyes off her as I made my morning commute). The United States and the others were iron ships with hearts made of brass, mahogany and teak. In those days three types of people sailed on cruises. First Class, Second Class, and Human Baggage. But all were excited at the first shout of "AMERICA". I love those deck names. I missed them when Diane and I were on Explorer of the Seas. I know they can be confusing. One of the comments I heard most often on the Carnival Sensation was "I don't know why I have to go Down to get to the Upper Deck!" Half the time I could not remember where our cabin, M44, was. I now know M stands for Main, I thought it meant Mine. Just kidding. But I digress. We ran down the stairs (in true maritime stairs are called ladders) one deck. We ran like we were kids trying to pass each other. We skidded up to the buffet and came to a shocked stop. I had never seen anything like it in my life. There was this huge white cloth covered table on the bleached wooden deck of this white ship with the brightest blue sea in the background covered with more breakfast food than any 50 teenage boys could possible eat. And the things they did with watermelons. They were carved in the shape of a grinning Indian with an eagle feather in his hair, a coiled snake, a woven basked with a handle, all done in one piece, and a huge vase of watermelon roses. Diane immediately said "Don't touch anything" She knows me. There were five or six members of the kitchen staff in their white coats and stiff Chef hats standing at attention behind the table, with its stacks of china plates, bowls, cups and saucers, all monogrammed with a gold X in the middle of a gold sunburst . The Chefs had omelet pans, tongs, and carving knifes drawn like sabers to fight off the evil of an empty stomach. Sausage, salmon, bagels, kiwi fruit, (I had no idea what that hairy little thing was) pomegranates, bananas, polenta, white fish, herring, olives (at least 10 kinds) French fries, home fries, hash browns, iced wine buckets with all kinds of juices including pomegranate juice, (for Gods sake how many seeds did that take), Mimosas (I still like those) and the pastries, they were piled up in a basket 3 foot high. Also Eggs Benedicts, Waffles, Inch thick French toast with powdered sugar, and scrambled eggs. I dug in. I had some kind of I can't believe all this spasm and jostled a little elderly lady's elbow in line in front of me. She was balancing a heavy china plate on which set a matching bowl full of stewed prunes. "Sorry," I said "can you believe all this food, and look at the watermelons, and..and that ship it's made of ice. I'll be damned.!" The little lady, prune bowl skating madly on her plate, craned her neck and squinting in the morning light looked up at me. "Young man I suggest you sit down and eat Your prunes! And I would like to eat mine!" She seemed upset so I didn't want to tell her that I hated prunes. Diane said she thought I should do what the lady suggested. "But I don't like prunes." Now we all know that the food on cruises is included but when your are married to someone who is very careful with money, clips coupons, and has three small kids, a husband that is six foot tall and weighs 140 pounds because he has the metabolic rate of a blast furnace, the next line in this story should come as no surprise "Then you shouldn't take what you're not going to eat." I looked at my plate, on it was a lot of stuff including smoked salmon ,olives, cream cheese, ham, those hairy brown things, a mound of scrambled eggs, which made the perfect nest for a large number of stewed prunes. I guess I should have paid more attention. Scrambled eggs We sat down at a table next to the railing. The sun was so bright and so hot and felt so good. Two happy people, to huge plates of food, two large wet glasses of iced orange juice glistening in the sun. As part of a pre cruise plan we deliberately ate slowly. "Enjoying your eggs?" Diane asked. Being to polite to answer with my mouth full, I gave her a grateful nod. "Good" She leaned closer for emphasis. "Eat it all, Stick Man." This was not a reference to the philosophical comment she made earlier about my prunes (at the moment sunbathing on the extreme edge of my plate) No, this comment was a not so veiled reference to a part of the same pre cruise plan. A plan she hatched on the plane down to Miami. We were in our seats admiring our new sneakers. (buying new sneakers, preferably Reeboks because we are stockholders, has become one of our pre cruise traditions . We buy them weeks before and don't wear them until the first day of the cruise. It's good to have a fresh set of tires when you plan to put a lot of quick miles on them}. Diane leaned over for emphasis of course and said "We need to fatten you up, we also need to relax so the plan is: rest a lot, read a lot, eat a lot, enjoy it, don't inhale it." Yes Dear. I was too thin. While running "the business" I found most meals to be inconvenient unless they were business related. I skipped breakfast, ate lunch at my desk, and most nights I arrived home so late that I had to eat alone or not at all. I more times than not, choose not at all. I had earned Diane's nickname for me "Stick Man". I was fortunate that she was still sticking with me. I owe her a lot including the fact that I can enjoy scrambled eggs. Before marrying Diane I hated them. My brother and I liked fried eggs. My mom did not like to cook. My dad did. My mom had to cook when Dad was out at sea. She could manage a few things, She made a mean fried chicken, fried hamburgers, fried green tomatoes, fried bacon, fried eggs. She fixed eggs the way her father liked them. Over Very Easy in bacon grease. Not bad actually, with home fries, and hot coffee sipped from a saucer. My grandfather obviously knew about heat displacement relative to surface area. This was a good cooling technique but I would not suggest using it in the My Fair Lady Dining Room. Back to my Mom and her eggs. . If the yolk broke the egg was no good and deserved to be punished. Attack it viciously with a fork and scramble it to death! Waste Nothing! Serve its confused and stringy remains to the boys, they will live! I had a hyper active adolescent gag reflex. Breakfast could get very ugly. Mom could get very mad. You get the picture. On October 9 1972 a Monday Morning that will live in infamy Diane my new bride who I loved very much was standing in our rented orange kitchen fixing scrambled eggs for her new hubby's breakfast. She called me and I came down the stairs to find this beautiful long legged Greek Girl with raven black hair that she could sit on trying to poison me. I had two choices I could refuse to eat this and risk a divorce or eat it and risk death. I chose death. She stood there in her baby dolls with this look on her face that only a woman can get when she has just fixed her man, now her new husband, his first meal (or his last). "Isn't this nice." I said. They did look edible, fluffy and yellow with what's this? Onions and green peppers and no bacon grease dripping from my fork. Oh well, life is an adventure and then you die. I took a small bite, and then a very big bite. I'm Alive! I'm Alive! Thank God almighty my wife can cook! THE TWO KEYS I am sitting at my quickly becoming obsolete computer (hey as long as it works for me) listening to Diana Krall. She is singing a good song that goes with this rambling, review- memoir, thing that I'm writing. How Deep is the Ocean (How High is the Sky) How much do I love you? I'll tell you no lie. How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky? How many times a day Do I think of you? How many roses are sprinkled with dew? How far would I travel just to be where you are? How far is the journey from here to a star? And if I ever lost you how much would I cry? How deep is the ocean? How high is the sky? Diane has taught me one of the keys to enjoying life and it works for cruising as well. Just roll with it. Don't be afraid to try something new (ESCARGO), don't let a past unpleasantness (refer to above egg discription) dictate your future attitude. Believe me. we have had to practice this mantra on more than one occasion. (story may follow at some point) There was no unpleasantness on this trip; we just let the Good Times Roll. We finished breakfast and began wandering around the outside of the ship waiting for our tender group number to be called. The tender from Key West was small. It looked like a Zodiac boat. So we had some time to kill before we could head for the island. The first thing I noticed was now that the ship was at anchor there were crew hanging all over her. Blue overalls were in lowered lifeboats with long handled white paint rollers, they were hanging out the portholes with rust chippers. Crew were clinging to the stack like big blue bugs with paint brushes. The never ending Battle against Rust and Corrosion was once again in full engagement. Ship Shape is the order of the Day! All the ships that we have cruised on have been in tip top shape. The Enchantment of the Seas had more people polishing the deck than they had passengers walking the deck (at 3 o'clock in the morning). I was afraid that if I stood in one place for too long someone with a Royal Caribbean badge would wipe me down. Ship Shape means something on these ships. It's great! If you make a mess someone else picks it up (not at home) At dinner if you don't like it send it back! (Don't try that at home!) If you want more just ask for it! (at home it depends on what your asking for) Relax! Enjoy! You are now out there, not back there!… Oh…I'm sorry…. didn't mean to get carried away, but we only have forty or so more days to go till our next one. (at the time I wrote this) We played a couple of games of shuffleboard ( best two out of three-I'm a shuffleboard shark, Diane didn't know that, she lost a big bet, but I can't tell you what the payout was, this is a family forum) We heard our number called so we went below, out to the tender dock on the opposite side of the boat from the island. The tender zoomed around the ship. At this distance she looked absolutely enormous. I started snapping pictures like crazy, Around we went and then the island came into view. We held hands, would you look at that Jimmy Buffets place. Neat. Now let's review our Plan: relax, go slow, don't inhale it. To **** With That! We had exactly 3 hours and 42 minutes to see the whole island of Key West ... Run! What's that over there? Hey would you look at that, is that a zucchini tree? Oh I thought they grew in trees. That shop looks cool lets go over there! Why? I forgot to pack my swimsuit. I set it out for you stupid! That one looks great on you. No it doesn't make your legs look skinny, your legs are skinny. I'm thirsty, we gotta grab a cup of that red stuff over there, I don't care if it cost 4 dollars, time is money! I want a picture of that. Hold Still! Are you trying to take a picture of it or me? Where is Hemingway's house?, I know it must be around here somewhere. Let me have that map, you have never been able to read a map. Here it is. How do you know? I don't see a sign. It must be, look at all the people standing in front of it. They are lost too. Man, its almost time to head back and I'm hungry. Hungry? You should have eaten your prunes. I don't like prunes. Wait, Derrick, Derrick look mother of pearl earrings exactly like the necklace you bought me in San Francisco, can we buy them, please?, please? Diane, if they make you happy get them, have anything that you want. You mean it? We didn't bring a lot of money you know. Diane this is a once in a lifetime trip get them. Oh, I love them, thank you. Kiss, Kiss, gotta go. We made it back to the ship and I really was hungry. As for the prunes, I figured I was better off without them. Key West was a moving experience good enough for me (sorry couldn't resist). After the Second Tango Lesson We left the ballroom and headed to the dining room. Larry and Blair were already seated and Enzo was patiently waiting for us. We sat down. My hope was that the dinner conversation would be better than it was on the first night. The first night consisted of introductions, where froms, airline critiques, and things like that. Tonight we got to the what do you dos. Larry became a little deflated when I informed him that I owned my own company and had recently sold it. I guess he was overwhelmed because he thought I was a mucho successful business owner. He perked up when my wife told him that I had to sale or go bust. With pride, he told me that he was in the hardware distribution business. He seemed to deflate again when Blair translated that to mean he worked in his father's hardware store. I found that interesting and told him so. I also told him that I earned the money to pay for the technical school that I had attended by working for a summer in a hardware store. That's nice, he said. Actually the summer I spent working at Reynolds's True Value Hardware was a good one. I learned about good and bad customer service. I learned that there are both good and bad customers. I learned that they are called wing nuts not butterfly nuts. (There is a joke there but never mind) I learned how to rip plywood, thread pipe, avoid a mad female Doberman, assemble lawn mowers, bicycles, and all kinds of lawn furniture. I also learned how to demonstrate and sell portable washer and dryers, pop up campers, power tools and vacuum cleaners. I learned that anything sold to the maritime industry is expensive because they need it in a hurry, and it needs to be made of brass. Of course when I worked there I had no idea that I would one day make good money traveling around the world installing phone systems on ships. That's one of the things I do now. They are expensive and there is some brass involved. And they usually need them in a hurry, even when it means traveling to Diego Garcia. Tonight I ordered the Prime Rib and a good bottle of wine to share. The wine seemed to make dinner a little more enjoyable. We chatted for a while, drank for a while, ate dessert, finalized our plans for the next day and headed off to the Fantasy Lounge to try out our new Tango skills. As soon as we walked into the lounge, Tony and Janet spotted us and waved us over to two seats next to them. We sat down and not being drinkers ordered a couple of Virgin Coladas. The drinks arrived, they where not Virgins. After a couple of sips we didn't care. Janet tapped Diane on the knee and pointed to the dance floor. Our first instructors Lenny and Thelma were there doing their thing. Janet said they looked like a couple of strutting pigeons. The description seemed quite accurate to me. Tony asked me if he could dance with Diane, and of course I said sure. Tony offered Diane his arm and they walked to the floor. Tony then said something to the band leader and a couple of seconds later the band started playing the Tango. Diane and Tony glided across the floor like they had been dancing together for years. It looked magical. Thelma and Lenny, they looked, well they looked like they had been strutting together for years. The dance ended, Diane and Tony, who seemed to be limping slightly, sat back down. I then found out that Tony was a professional dancer and dance instructor. He had danced musical theatre and also owned a number of dance studios. He retired from dancing professionally after breaking his ankle in a car accident. Now his and Janet's full time job was cruising. He also told me that if the conditions were just right, his ankle would quit hurting and allow him to glide across the floor once more. Twice today the conditions had been just right. I think Diane was flattered. She should be. She and I danced until the place closed. We then went for a walk and sometime in the AM went to bed in our single bunk. It was a tight fit, which after a few minutes became even tighter. The next day while at Playa del Carmen we were entertained by the crew. They challenged us (the passengers) to volleyball, horseshoes, and tug of war. They let go of the rope during that contest. My butt was bruised for days when I landed on somebody's knee. I also received very good sunburn that day. I slept in the other bunk that night. Diane was disappointed I'm sure. I never finished the story of this cruise ... so to be continued, maybe.

My name is Theodore. I have had a lot of names in my short life; Beasley, Bailey and one other one that I don't remember, or maybe I just don't want to remember. I don't mind the name Theodore, but I like the name Mom and Dad use best ... Teddy Bear. I am Teddy Bear Parker. Being a Parker makes me happy. Can a dog be happy? Some will tell you that being happy is only for humans. Someone once said that a wild bird will fall frozen from a tree limb and never feel sorry for itself. How does anyone know what a bird or a dog thinks or feels? Let me tell you how I feel. I feel lucky. Most of all I feel safe. For the first time in a long, long time I have a family and I have a forever home. I know that I had some big paw prints to fill. Mom and Dad, and that's what they are to me now, loved their first dog very much. They try not to mention his name. They talk about how it has been a long time since they saw a dog running around the back yard so fast, or jumping up on their tall bed in the bus. I love the bus. The big window is so cool, because I can see so much and there is a lot of air blowing on me like the window is open and I know it isn't. The only thing I don't like is those noisy motorcycles flashing by. All of us went out to the mountains in the bus, not long ago. I met some really nice people there. I got to run with another dog on a golf course … that is what Dad called it. I am not sure what it is, but it was fun to have the whole place to myself. I try my best to have fun with Mom and Dad. Many a morning I will grab one of Dad's socks off the floor (Mom is always telling Dad to put his dirty socks in the hamper … that basket thing in the corner, but he doesn't listen.) I take the sock to the hallway and wait for Dad. When he asks for it I turn my head and then run around the kitchen table. Dad chases me and I let him get close before I take off again. It's a lot of fun. Mom and Dad both laugh and so does Joel. I give the sock to Dad when he offers me one of my toys. I don't want him to be mad at me. Fancy told me to ring the bell at the back door when I need to go out. That trick works really well. When either The Cat or I want a trip to the back yard all we have to do is shake it and someone comes running. So things are going really well. As I said, I know I had some big paws prints to fill. It has not been easy for any of us, but I also know that we are helping each other get over our past sorrows. Mom was so sad when we first met. She missed Nickolas so much. He had not been gone long before I came into her life. She thought about him all the time. Dad found some letters that Mom wrote to Nickolas. Mom wasn't sure she wanted him to use them, but she did say it was okay. Saturday, October, 30, 2010 Dear Nickolas, It has now been a week since I last saw your sweet face. It seems like so much more. This has been one of the hardest weeks of my life, so slow, lifeless and unbearably sad. I knew saying goodbye would be hard and going on without you, even harder. I always said I never wanted a dog, and now I don't know how I ever got along without one. Now I don't know how I'm going to get along without you. I miss you almost every minute of every day. The house is so empty without you. I find myself looking for you at the end of the bed when I wake up in the morning. I listen for the sound of your nails clicking on the hardwood floors as I make my way to the kitchen. I no longer have a reason to step out the back door and walk around the yard, enjoying the fresh air, the singing birds, checking out the plants, waiting for you to take care of your "business." I forget to feed Fancy breakfast (and dinner) without you at my feet so expectantly looking forward to your meal. I look for you when I finish eating to share a last crust of bread or to lick my bowl; I miss how excited and appreciative you always were of receiving the smallest tidbit. I could go on and on about other things I miss, like you waiting for me when I step out of the shower, following me through the house as I go about my day, sometimes leading me – anticipating which room I might be going to next – looking over your shoulder to be sure I'm coming, greeting me so cheerfully whenever I enter the house – no matter how long or short my absence. Very little things, really, but very much like the punctuation marks that complete a thought, an act. With your bright eyes and your wagging tail, just your presence made every day a little brighter, everyday tasks a little lighter. Thank you so much for all the joy you brought to my life. I never imagined when you came into our home that you would take over my heart in such a way. I had always liked dogs, but never really wanted to have a dog. They seemed like so much more responsibility than a cat. I found out with you that yes, dogs are a bit more work. They must be walked, no matter how bad the weather, picked up after, groomed. Long periods of absence are difficult since dogs need someone to let them out. But Nickolas, you gave so much more than any cat I've ever had. It was never work taking care of you. It was all joy – well maybe taking you out in the cold and rain wasn't fun, but I'd give anything to be able to do it again. Sunday, October 31, 2010 What a blessing to have had 12 years with you! How lucky that I didn't work and could spend most of my time with you. Dad said you were my shadow. Whenever anyone wanted to find you, all they had to do was look for me, you were sure to be close by. I've enjoyed walking almost as long as I can remember. It helps to clear my mind and calm my spirit. It doesn't matter whether it's the mountains, the beach, or the city, it has always rejuvenated me. But walking with you always added something extra. Your excitement from the word "walk" to the end of the outing was infectious. It was so evident with your bright eyes, your wide smile, your happy little "doggie trot," and your nose finding so many smells, even your persistent tugging on the leash. You were always so willing to go with me, never too tired or busy and people seemed much more interested in talking with you by my side than they ever were when I walked alone. I always missed you when we were apart; you at the groomers or me running errands or spending time places dogs just weren't welcome. I hated taking you to the groomers – you shook all the way there. You always forgave me though and were so happy to see me when I came to pick you up. Your Aunt Vickie was so sad to hear that you had gone. She helped me find pictures of you and talked about how good you were to Amy when she was learning to groom cockers. Monday, November 1, 2010 I remember when I first fell for you. Christine started asking me, "Mom, don't you want a dog?" as soon as Molly became pregnant. My answer was always "No" She asked again when we were visiting her at her home in New Jersey and your eyes were just opening. You were pretty hard to resist, but still my answer was "No." Something happened when she had to bring your whole litter here so she could attend Jeri's graduation. Dad wouldn't allow any dogs in the house. We would stand amazed at the door to the garage and watch as one moment there appeared to be a cauldron of boiling puppies, tumbling, wrestling, moving, and the next moment a pile of dead dogs – everyone asleep. There came a moment as Christine and I were watching all of you romping in the back yard that I was captivated by you. You were sitting alone watching the craziness of your litter mates and I said, "If I could have one, I'd like that one." Christine ran immediately into the house yelling: "Da-ad, Mom wants a dog!" Dad looked at me in disbelief and said, "You don't want a DOG, do you?" I meekly responded, "Well, maybe." I took you with me to one of Joel's baseball games. You sat on my lap and it was so nice to have company in the bleachers ... usually I sat alone watching the games.The family went for a walk in the neighborhood, Molly and Chandler were walked by Christine and Brent, you walked with me, and you had the happiest little dog trot. Christine continued to place you on my lap and Dad's for the rest of her visit, by then you had wormed your way into my heart. Our lives were never the same. I had never owned a dog of my own before. Dad sternly said, "You can keep him but you'll be the one taking care of him and he better not have any accidents or chew anything up!" I knew I had my work cut out for me. I took you out every hour so you wouldn't have any accidents inside. We didn't have a fence then, so I had to take you out on leash and it was summertime so there were plenty of mosquitoes. I read dog training books from the library as fast as I could, I was so thrilled when you learned to "nose the bell" to let us know you needed to go out. You never had another accident after that. I kept you with me as I moved around the house to be sure you wouldn't chew up anything you shouldn't. Pretty soon I didn't have to ask you to come with me; you believed your place was by my side. I changed the sheets on our bed today and was immediately reminded of the way you would eagerly wait for the dirty sheets and blankets to hit the floor so you could pounce on them and roll around in them on your back, twisting and turning, moving your arms and legs, sometimes biting at them. I never could figure out exactly why you did that but you always seemed to thoroughly enjoy it. Sometimes I would join in the wrestling match, covering you with the sheets and tapping at your belly, ears, tail. It instantly turned a chore into game. Sunday, November 7 2010… It's been a busy week, Dad walks with me now, and I appreciate it. But I feel your absence on each walk. Christine and her boys came over today. They brought Bella, thinking spending time with her would help. I thought I was starting to get used to you not being around, but having her here made me miss you more than ever. Diane There are no more letters -- maybe because Dad did a lot of searching and then they found me. I met my new Mom and Dad the day after Thanksgiving. At first I wasn't sure about them. I was just excited to be out for a walk. It was the first one in a long time. I ran to the end of the leash and just stayed there. I think I was quite a handful. Dad said I pulled like a mule. Mom said she thought I seemed like a great big puppy. I guess I was. I jumped up on them and washed both their faces. Neither one minded that a bit. Mom was laughing and crying at the same time. There was something about the two of them that I could not resist. When Becky, the lady who brought me to Mom and Dad, said it was time to go and Mom led me to the car, I jumped right in. I knew right away that I wanted to be with them. We drove for a long time and they took me to the Bus. They gave me toys and treats and took me for a long walk down "Dog Street" in someplace called Williamsburg. I met other dogs, and lots of people. It was great. Mom, Dad, Joel, they are my people, my family. I love them with everything in me. I hate being separated from them … it makes me anxious, but with Mom's help I am getting used to having time by myself. I have learned that Mom and Dad always come back for me. They have learned that I will always be there, waiting for them. Nope, it hasn't been easy, but it is getting better all the time. I am Teddy Bear Parker, a very lucky dog. Oh, Dad, thanks for helping me write this.

Yesterday, Teddy Bear, our Cocker Spaniel, was very ill. We don't know how, but he he picked up a gastro bacterial infection. It knocked him for a loop. He wouldn't eat, or drink anything, on his own. If we coached him, he would take a bit of yogurt, or maybe eat an ice cube, but neither would stay down for long. I can tell you it scared both Diane and myself. I guess we are still a bit raw-nerved from the loss of our Nickolas just five short months ago. Actually, I was more than scared, I was numb. Diane and I made a trip to the vet late in the day yesterday. The good doctor there ran a few tests and determined that Teddy picked up a germ somewhere that was reaking touble in his gut. She gave him a shot for nausea, which started to work really fast. She also prescribed a dose of antibiotics. We went home, relieved to know that the trouble was not something that needed anything major to fix, like surgery. This morning he still had problems keeping food down but he continued to try to eat. This evening he seems to be doing okay. I don't think he is all that crazy about a diet of chicken broth and white rice, but he is eating it. So "Oh Lord, not again" is really true. Because of prayer and medicine that is working, it is not happening again. We are not losing our dog. Gramps.

My wife tells me that I am a packrat. I consider myself a collector of memories. I have a lot of wrist watches, including six Disney ones. I collect pocket knives. Some are quite old and some of those I have had since I was really young. There are a lot of things in my small home office. Some of the things would be considered junk by most people. Some may be worth a few bucks. To me they are all valuable. Hanging on the wall in front of my desk is a gold framed shawdowbox with all the pins from all the Apollo Space missions mounted inside. Above the shadowbox are two shelves holding thirteen diecast 1.24-scale metal trucks. Most of the trucks are models of vehicles made between 1900 and 1947. Behind me are six long shelves covered with all kinds of items. I made the shelf array. I took a trip to a ladder supply company and bought a 20-foot-tall one-piece wooden ladder. I cut the one large ladder into two 7-foot 4-inch ladders. I sanded the two sections, stained them a nice honey color and then attached them to the celing so they would be perpindicular to the rear brick wall of my office. Then I took the six pine shelves, stained them a rich Hunter Green and placed them across the rungs of the ladder sections. On these shelves are more model trucks, cars and a few motor homes. I have signed baseballs (one with Roy Hobbs' autograph), a lot of paperback books including the complete works of D. Francis, (I read my first Francis novel when I was about 13), all the Harry Potter novels, the complete Lord of the Rings as well as the Chronicles of Narnia . Sitting alongside of the books are their DVD collections. I have on display Pez dispensors, ceramic and plush Disney characters, a collection of books and DVDs about the Civil War and World War II. There is also a number of telephony novelty items like a wind-up walking telephone. I have an old small horseshoe that I keep on one of those shelfs. On the wall of my office, just to the right of those shelves, is a wooden plaque made by my father. Two things are mounted on this plaque. One is a small brass plate with my name and birth date engraved on it. The second item, above the brass plate, is a wooden carving of a Conestoga wagon. This carving used to be mounted on the headboard of a wagon wheel bunk bed. The bunk bed belonged to me when I was a young boy back in the late 1950s. I slept in that bed under the same-style bed spread that was on Beaver Cleaver's bed. I had a model of Nellie-Belle, the jeep from the Roy Rogers' show on my dresser along with a model of Trigger, Roy Rogers' horse. Just before I went to bed I would remove my Hop a Long Cassidy wristwatch and place it back in its saddle-shaped box that was on my desk. Also on the desk was my horseshoe with my name engraved on it. This horseshoe came from Williamsburg and was bought during a first or second grade field trip. The Roy Rogers action toys have long disappeared and so has the watch. The horseshoe and the wagon carving, I still have. They remind me of a time that was so much simpler than it is now. It was a time when it was easy to tell the bad guys from the good ones because the good guys wore white hats and the bad guys black. Back then TV was black-and-white and no one disagreed that father knew best. I keep the horseshoe as a reminder of summer vacations without a care in the world, as well as no air conditioning. I keep the plaque to remind me of the time we played outside, and everyone one knew everyone else in the neighborhood. I keep it to remind me of baths just before bedtime, half hour news shows, trips to Highs Ice Cream, or to the drug store for a Cherry Coke. I keep the horseshoe and that wooden wagon carving to remind me that yes, a long time ago, I was once a young and happy kid. Gramps

It feels good to be writing again. The last couple of weeks have been very busy for me. ….I know, some people don’t have the time to read about my life; they have one of their own. That is what one person told me in the form of a reply after I posted a blog entry. I had to ask myself, why did they read it then? Well this week has been phone system training classes and meetings of all sorts. Last week Diane and I spent three really great days at our home away from home at the Deer Creek Motorcoach resort. We were there by ourselves the first night. The second day our friends Neal and Shirley arrived. They spent one night. We went out to dinner together and talked about the resort, caught up on what all the other owners were up to. The next night, Sunday night to be exact, we went out to dinner with Laura, Barry the developer’s wife. That sounds funny. Laura is just as responsible for Deer Creek being there as anyone else and I thank her for that. Our time there was really good. Teddy, our new Cocker Spaniel, for those of you who don’t know, really took to the place and every one took to him. Teddy really enjoyed a long hike we took on part of the New River Trail that runs through Galax. It was about a four or five mile hike and it took a major part of the wind out of his sails. It tired me out as well. Sunday morning was windy. I managed to get in a round of golf and then I pulled a large multi celled, multi colored, nylon octagon box kite out of the basement of the coach. This kite is really big…when assembled it will fill up the back of a Jeep Waggoner. I know, because I tried to stow it in the back of one and I had to semi-take it apart, the kite that is, to make it fit. The kite has about thirty five pounds of lift when there is enough wind to get it off the ground. There was more than enough wind this particular day and when it gusted, there was too much. I found that out the hard way. At about 300 feet in the air the seventy five pound test line the kite was at the end of….broke. The kite blew away from me at a high rate of speed as it slowly drifted back down to earth. It landed in a very large rolling cow pasture that is surrounded by a barbed wire fence. I went after it as fast as I could, rewinding my line as I ran. I lost sight of it. I ran back to our site and hopped in the car, drove to the pasture but I couldn’t find the kite. Which hill did it blow over? I drove back to the coach where Diane was standing outside. She saw the kite go down and she and Teddy were waiting for me. I grabbed a pair of binoculars, maybe they will help. Back to the pasture we went, on foot this time. We walked around to a gate, which I climbed over. I started wondering around looking in the direction the wind was blowing, trying to find this very large but now invisible kite. As I was meandering around, the owner of the pasture was driving toward me in his Jeep. I ran over as he rolled down the window. “I think I know where it is…hop in” He obviously knew what I was looking for. Greg, that’s his name, was watching the ACC championship game and happened to glance out his big window just in time to see my kite fall to earth. After a short drive and that is better than walking in a heavily used cow pasture, we found it in a low creek bed. It was unharmed. During this time Diane was having a conversation with some people across the street from the gate; Teddy and a small dog were getting to know each other. Greg taxied me and my kite to the parking lot of our clubhouse, where Diane was standing on the mini golf course. She was as happy to see my seventy dollar kite as I was. So there you have it…our Deer Creek adventure in a nut shell. The next morning we were off to Greensboro. We arrived at about eleven where we dropped off our coach at the Workhorse repair center. The water pump, along with the fan clutch assembly is or was under a recall. Also the dash air conditioner was no longer working. The techs would need at least a couple of days to fix all these problems so we decided to stay with my Mom and Dad for a couple of days. We made a quick trip to Camping World were we spent a surprisingly small amount of money and then made the drive to my folks place. Two days turned into four. That seems to happen a lot, time expanding itself, when a coach needs to be repaired. All three of us stayed in my Dad’s cabin. It was a bit more primitive than our coach but it still felt like we were rving it….sort of. The only bad thing that happened was the cabin had a new water heater. The thermostat was set a bit too low. It had about two minutes worth of hot water. Diane found that out real quick. Have you seen the shower scene in Ground Hog day? It sounded a bit like that only with a higher pitch! Before my shower I grabbed a screwdriver out of the car and turned up the temp. We visited some cousins while we were there. My cousin Sonja has a really nice huge house than Diane had never been in before, so we got the tour. Great place, but I prefer something smaller, with wheels. Mom and Dad took us to this really good Greek/Italian place in Lexington called Cristo’s. I had roasted stuffed green peppers with a Greek Salad. Diane had beef gyros that looked pretty tasty. Dad provided most of our other meals, which were good as well. We didn’t do much while visiting besides sit and talk. The situation in Japan was the biggest topic of conversation. I thought that owning a motorhome is a good thing if you have a natural disaster that wipes out your stick house. Of course you would have to have a lot of advance warning in order to drive the rv to someplace safe. We have, on occasion, had large hurricanes hit this area and after the last big one I was impressed by my neighbors living in a Bounder while the rest of us suffered in the heat, with no power to take a hot shower or have a cold beer. Not long after that we bought our first coach, also a Bounder. There had to be a connection. Speaking of connections. The day before we left to pick up our coach, Janis and Gary called. They were on thier way to A Thousand Trails resort not far from Lexington. They wanted to know if we were still at Galax. When we found out we were just about a half hour away from each other we made plans for dinner at the best place in town. So that night we went back to Cristo's for the salad and pizza buffet. It was good to see them again. We had a great visit which I appreciated very much. They are heading out west and we don't know when we will see them again. I wish I could follow them out there...wherever there is. After four days and a number of phone calls back and forth, we were notified that our coach was repaired almost. A part for the AC was in but not installed. Diane needed to get back home because our daughter Jeri was flying up from Florida to attend a wedding in Richmond. Diane was going to go with her. So Diane dropped me off at the dealer, then she and the pup drove home. Five hours later I followed all by myself in the coach. It was a piece of cake without her, almost. I made a couple of wrong turns that I will blame on the Ms Garmin. I arrived home around nine thirty at night. Diane may have been worried (she called me twice to see where I was) but I did just fine, don’t let her tell you different. The next morning Diane and Jeri took off for Richmond, Joel left for Fredericksburg, and that left Teddy and me to fend for ourselves. We ate, we slept, and I looked after my grand boys for a night. We did just fine. Don’t let Diane tell you any different! Gramps