Back to school

Dad and I are standing outside our classroom yesterday at the UNLV.  Marji and dad are enrolled in the OLLI (Osher Lifelong Learning Institute) program and they're taking a summer class called "The Story of Music."  They took me along as a guest and I enjoyed it very much.  We saw an excellent BBC video with musicologist Howard Goodall. 

After class, I demanded a trip to In-N-Out Burger.  Hey, Las Vegas has every naughty thing you can imagine, so I have to get my fill of all the yummy stuff we're deprived of in Seattle.

It's been very hot, so after burgers and fries we spent the afternoon relaxing in the cool house until it was time to think about dinner.  There's a little Chinese place just around the corner and they deliver excellent fresh food to the front door within a few minutes. 

This morning we're going to The Egg Works for late breakfast on the way to the airport. So you see how it goes here...these folks are spoiled and they spoil their guests!

Thank you Marji and dad for the nice visit.
I'm back to Seattle reality this afternoon: rain, with a high of 60. 

Bombs in the desert

Las Vegas is weirdly wonderful, and if you know where to look, full of surprises.  Even my sister, a resident here since the 1970's, never visited the Atomic Testing Museum.

The museum is a government-looking building, near the madness of The Strip.

Inside is a first rate collection of artifacts, film, photographs and exhibits dedicated to that surreal time when the U.S. and Russia each had a finger on the button of annihilation.  In the 1950's, the desert around Las Vegas became a test ground for nuclear weapons.

And you think Putin is a tough guy? In 1956, Nikita Khrushchev said, “Whether you like it or not, history is on our side. We will bury you.”

 

The day started with breakfast on the patio, then a short scenic drive in the desert.

And finished up with everyone's favorite dinner, pasta with shrimp and fresh tomatoes.  Here's Marji and dad tucking in.

"Warm" and windy

After the 3:30 am part was over, it was a pleasant flight down to Las Vegas this morning. Thanks, John for the ride to the airport at that cruel hour.

On a clear June morning, a seat on the left side scores nice views of our string of volcanic pearls:  Mt. Rainier, St. Helens, Adam, Hood, Jefferson, etc. etc.

It got up to 105 today in Las Vegas. The TV weatherman called a "warm" day. The wind feels like a hair dryer.  In Seattle, they would declare a state of weather emergency.

It's wonderful being here with Marji and Dad. We went shopping and out to lunch.  Tomorrow we're going to visit the National Atomic Energy Testing Museum. 

Season of perfection

The garden reaches a beautiful peak in early June-- the time to savor every moment outdoors. Unfortunately, we've been working inside like galley slaves all weekend, getting the house put back together after the fiasco with the painting company.  I sent them away on Friday before the job was even finished. Actually, the incompetent mess they left is much worse than simply "not finished." 

We'll get a refund but that doesn't compensate us for all the work, grief and sleepless nights.  I won't go into the gory details here because I'm tired of the story and we're moving on.  But if you ever see the name "CertaPro Professional Painting" run as fast as you can in the opposite direction. Suffice to say, we have plenty of future work for our dear Tom, master-painter.  

My ukulele group is playing this afternoon at Sea View Hall on Alki Beach.  Actually, we'll be on the porch greeting folks (or driving them away) with our music and singing.  I don't know anything about the event, except that it's part of a home tour.  We are happy to play for nothing, but apparently The Ukes get a free lunch today, which is the favorite compensation. 

Our leader Charlie sent out a set list, mostly easy songs we've played many times.  I don't know why, but he also threw in some seldom played, really tough chord tunes like "Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head."  Guess I'll just do vocals on those. Or air strum. I've been too busy this week to practice much.

Tomorrow morning I have an obscenely early flight to Las Vegas.  Once that nasty part is over, I'm looking forward to spending 3 days with my sister and dad at their home in North Las Vegas.  The Seattle high daily temperatures have been running about 60 degrees and Vegas is topping out at 105.  After freezing my buns on Alki this afternoon, a big change ahead.

America alone

Yesterday was a sad, embarrassing day for our country. America is largest contributor to carbon dioxide in the world, and for us to walk away from a global cooperation plan is a horrible setback.  This is about politics and short-term gain for a very few.  Ironically, the poor nations will pay the greatest price for global warming, even though they've contributed the least to the problem.  What kind of world are we bequeathing to our grandchildren? 

Welcome June

Cats awaiting the return of fishermen

June is National Adopt a Cat Month.  Also Rose Month, Dairy Month, Turkey Lover's Month, Fight the Filthy Fly Month, Candy Month and Gay Pride Month.

June 1st is "Flip a Coin Day."  Some decisions just aren't worth over-thinking.  Flip a coin.

What a week so far.  Our painting project is proceeding in fits and starts, heavy on the fits. Have you ever watched "This Old House" on PBS, where teams of highly-skilled, specialized professionals happily do perfect work without a bit of supervision? What a pretty fantasy.

Instead of being wrapped up today as we hoped, our project is just getting started.  Again.  The painter they sent out Tuesday said "they did not pay him enough" to tape wall cracks or strip and sand varnished doors, as was clearly specified in our proposal. Unfortunately, he had already slapped on a coat of primer.  It will all have to come off again. He packed up and left. That set off a flurry of unpleasant email and phone calls between me and the office, then a further delay finding a different crew. And a sleepless night.

Don't get me wrong.  We love each other very much, but we're tired of sharing a teeny-tiny wobbly bed in the basement and stumbling over furniture and boxes of clothes upstairs.  I told Gaby and her husband (our latest and hopefully last crew) that finishing our bedroom before the weekend was the top priority.

I've slipped into my familiar role:  Manager of the Universe.
Who knew painting could be this hard?