September 14 Sunday
For a number of weeks I've been promising myself I would write tomorrow morning, something I've managed to do each and everyday. After all, the day after today is always tomorrow, this (Monday) morning I decided that rather than wait until tomorrow, I'd just put something down and hopefully prime the pump. Since late August we've been back at the Umpqua River Lighthouse for our, now annual visit, volunteering two days a week and enjoying ourselves the next four days, then repeating the cycle. As has been the case the past two years, we are once again parked facing the Pacific with the million dollar view.
As you can tell from the foggy photo, this idyllic life of the full timer, living where you want, when you want, sometimes is less than scintillating. One thing we did know was that this view was not going to last all day, not because the fog had to burn off, but because it was Sunday morning and so we would be driving over to Reedsport for church and shopping. True to form, as we topped the hill on Hwy 101 that leads down into Reedsport the sun was shining. This morning I could certainly remember the fact that I had dawdled just a little to long last Sunday, causing Linda to arrive at church after the service had started. This was what could best be called, a not so good thing even though she never said anything to me, and consequently I was not going to repeat what I did last Sunday.
We find this church to be an amazing place, especially when people come up and greet us by name even though we only attend a half dozen or so weeks each fall, especially so when one of them is the pastor. As we've said on more than one occasion, the Reedsport Church of God is something special. This morning was the first morning of the new schedule, which was beginning the first service 15 minutes earlier than had been the case. As was explained last week, it was to give more time between the two services which would allow folks to spend time together during the coffee hour. Linda and I were both of the opinion that some of the extra time was going to get filled by the sermon and not by coffee. Usually the service lasts about 1 hour and 15 minutes, this morning with more time, it lasted 1 hour and 22 minutes.
They used to call long speeches and long sermons, stem winders. Guess we could use that phrase to describe today's sermon, but with the addition of, rapt attention was paid by all present. It was that good. Filing out after the service, we bid a hasty retreat to the Explorer and headed out to do some grocery shopping. First stop was at the Price N Pride, just look around, or at least that was what I said to Linda. Returning to the Explorer with a cantaloupe, several ears of corn and a two packages of meat, I reflected on who actually runs the world. Next was a stop at the Safeway where I could safely assert myself, heading to the ice cream freezer section and attempting to return myself to her good graces.
We'd lucked out in a way, as what we had bought in the way of meat was a very nice London Broil and a package of 7% ground beef. The wheels were turning and before long Linda was making a meat loaf. We combined that with a baked yam, corn on the cob and balsamic asparagus to make a delicious meal. And no, it's not that I have once again turned over the cooking to the little woman of the house, it's just that I don't have her touch when it comes to meatloaf, so we split the cooking duties with the corn and asparagus being my responsibility.
The remainder of the day was pretty much taken up by Ebay work on Linda's part and slothfulness on my part. I did carry out the garbage without her having to ask so it wasn't a completely lazy day. We also worked on looking at and organizing our photos from this summer's trip to Europe. I managed to do very well on the looking end, while Linda held up the organizing end. That was to be expected however, especially since I am so rusty at doing anything on the computer other than looking at websites.
Later we just watched TV and invested in a little reading before I yelled at Linda to bring me my dessert. Okay, maybe I was so relaxed in the recliner that I was about to fall asleep and that wonderful woman I am married to, smiled her big bright smile and asked if I wanted to have dessert or did I just want to fall asleep. Talk about a instant dose of nodoze, within a flash I sitting upright in the recliner and letting her know that she had come up with a great idea, plus there were visions of pear cobbler topped with ice cream dancing before my eyes.
The heck with the fact that is a less than outstanding photo, a dessert of chocolate chip zucchini bread and pear cobbler, topped with chocolate fudge ice cream, the no fat no added sugar variety, and whipped topping is something that just has to be shared. Besides, I am sure that there must be at least one member of the human race that has been missing my food photo over these past few months.
It's been a difficult thing to get back to writing, but hey, better late than never, after all, how many people search for Someday Isle and never find it. As the song goes: Every day is a new day.
September 15 Monday
Back to work today, though as we've said so many times before, work is not the word to describe the enjoyment we get from volunteering at the lighthouse. Unfortunately the view out the front of the coach as darkness dissolved under the light of day was hopefully not a harbinger of what to expect for the coming day. Given the same view yesterday morning, the sun had burned through by late morning, would today be a repeat performance?
One thing which was not a repeat performance was breakfast. No extensive cooking this morning, it was time to use the heat and eat method instead. Yesterday at the Price and Pride we had been faced with a momentous decision, to buy or to bye. The object of these deliberations was a bin in the produce section heaped with melons, melons known as either muskmelons or cantaloupe. That was what I learned to call them when I was a kid, and while botanists may refer to them as Cucumis melo and Cucumis melo reticulatus, what was good enough for my Dad is good enough for me. As you can see we opted to buy.
There is however more to this story, in fact there are two parts to it. My Dad's part and his daughter-in-law's part, but for now I'll only relate her part, which by the way is not connected to his part. Linda has thing with cantaloupes, something about buying too many melons over the years only to discover they did not live up to her standards in terms of taste. The only melons we ever found which she almost always approved of were ambrosia melons. Until yesterday it had been months since she had last bought a cantaloupe, but when I saw that table of melons for only 29¢ per pound, it was too good to pass up. At least it was for me, but not for her. She did her squeeze test on a number of melons, and her sniff test on several, all of which she pronounced as below her standards. Meanwhile I was madly squeezing as many as I could hoping to find just one measly melon that could be submitted for her approval. At last I was successful, but on handing it to her, could tell before she verbally rejected it that though it was close, it just wasn't perfect enough. Then wonder of wonders, I picked up one of the few remaining untouched melons and found it to be THE PERFECT MELON. There was a pregnant pause as she squeezed and sniffed, before she gently cradled it in her hand. I could just tell from the tender loving way she held it I had done good.
The interesting thing was, it was as good as it gets when we had half of that melon for dinner on Sunday, yet this morning's piece was tough and tasteless. Same melon, different results. The only thing we could think of was the fact it had been refrigerated overnight. Next time that we don't eat the whole melon, we will leave what we didn't eat out on the counter and see what results we get. Now that is an experiment we need to do as soon as we can. Besides, could it be that was how we used to handle them, and because it has been so long since we bought one, couple with our advancing years, we had simply forgotten?
The next task of the day was to get dinner ready. Not that I was going to cook all day, that is what slow cookers are for. The plan was to use the London Broil we bought yesterday to make a beef base for barbecued beef. Trim fat from beef, baste with a little good oil, canola this time, add some wine and water, then slow cook all day. The surprise was when I went to trim the beef. Those prepacked pieces always look so good until you get home, open the package and find the big chunk of fat that was left on the side you couldn't see.
The little bit of fat in the center was all that I could find to trim off and that had been on the side where we could see it when we bought it. Somethings aren't always what they seem, sometimes they are even better.
When it came time to go over to the museum and lighthouse, the fog was still in.
That is a very unusual view for this time of day and it was a harbinger of the day. Something else that was amazing, and may have actually been a first in my three years of walking up to open the lighthouse which was the condition of the parking lot, not a vehicle to be seen.
Later the sun tried to burn through the fog, but not with much luck.
We did have the Coast Guard ANT team come by to clean the light and for once, they didn't even need to pull the curtain closed since there was no sun to shine through the lens. As the day progressed the fog would burn off for a brief period, then return, though by 1 PM it was here to stay. It did cause me one problem and that was on a late afternoon tour. Every time I walk back to the museum after a tour on foggy days like this, I always check the view of the ocean to know how to start the next tour. If it is a good view I will lay the groundwork for what the next tour will see as we walk up to the parking lot. If it is fogged in, I will talk more about the general history of the area.
One thing to understand is that I usually walk backwards as I lead the tour up to the ocean overlook, sometimes I even get teased whether one of the qualifications of being a tour guide is to have the ability to walk backwards and talk at the same time. This tour I did my usual as we walked towards the corner of the parking where I talk about first lighthouse that was destroyed in 1864. At this point I ask the group to realize what they were seeing wasn't what had always been here. The north jetty, the triangle and the trees down below were not there in the 1800's, it was just ocean. That was when I noticed the looks of bewilderment on the faces of the people on tour. Since I was walking backwards and looking directly at them, I knew this to be a look I was not used to seeing at this time. Turning and looking towards the Pacific I could see why they were perplexed. The fog had rolled in from the time I had walked by after the last tour and there was no ocean or trees to be seen. Sometimes you win and sometimes laugh, this was one on those times to laugh.
Later, after our delicious barbecued beef dinner, we watched TNT and discovered a couple of good programs. We get so tired of the endless reruns and mindless reality shows on the networks that this was a welcome relief. The only problem is it opens up a whole new world to explore. Isn't that one of the things which makes Life special, taking time to explore and having a good laugh.
September 16 Tuesday
Another day of museum and tour duty, plus another foggy morning. Though we don't keep count, we may have already had more foggy mornings this year than we normally have had during the two months we have been here in past years. As one of the other volunteer couples noted, foggy days bring in more visitors because there's not much else to do. Speaking of things to do, one thing I just couldn't seem to do was write this entry, so it may be a day late, or it may not get written at all. Then again, since I'm sitting here on Thursday morning writing it, I guess it will get done, albeit a day late. My thoughts on whether to write or not to write were blown asunder when Linda came out with her usual big smile.
You thought that photo was going to be of Linda? There are somethings that will just never make the pages of this blog and that glimpse of you know who when she emerges from her sleeping chamber is one. One thing which I can photograph is breakfast, which was what I was soon preparing. One taste and it blew holes in our refrigerator theory of cantaloupe degradation we proposed yesterday. One night, not good, two nights improvement. Whatever, the taste and texture of the cantaloupe was much improved today.
Next it was over to the museum to begin the process of opening. We've got this part down to a science, taking only a couple of minutes to have everything ready. It's just a matter of turning on the lights, putting out the signs and flags, getting out the 2 way radios and then opening up the lighthouse.
Opening the lighthouse, my task, is flipping the light switch inside the door, walking up the stairs to the light, something that is not necessary, yet something that is necessary, then hanging the sign on the fence before returning to the museum. I find it impossible to open without climbing those stairs and simply marveling at the wonder of it all. Not the view out the windows, which is nothing special, rather simply the wonder of the lighthouse itself.
I cannot stand at the top and look up at the light without journeying back in history, it sets the tone for the day. History is not merely dates or objects, history is people, and it is those builders and former keepers of the light including their families that I think about. Descending the stairs I muse about what and who I am following, just what is it that I am doing. Maybe it should be called "Up the down staircase and down the up staircase." But I was not the only one lost in my own little world, as Linda has her own special moments at the museum.
This young lady (it's too cute to be anything else) lives in the window, on the outside, beside the counter where Linda spends most of her day. Normally it stays, partially hidden, but let some unsuspecting insect enter its web and in a flash it drops down to see what delectable delight may have appeared.
Linda also has others view out the window, as you can see.
Meanwhile, I'm busy leading tours, off in a world of the past and endeavoring to give those on the tour a peek at what I see.
Of course the people who go on the tours aren't here for the history, they are here to see the light, and what a sight it is.
Before we know it, the day is over and we realize it has been our second busiest day since we arrived. Busy days make for short days, or so it seems, and after reversing our morning opening routine, we are once again back at the coach. There is dinner and time on the computer, still not a word of the daily journal, maybe tomorrow. Linda doesn't slack off however, fixing a delicious dessert with lots of ice cream and served with a big smile. Greet the day with a smile and end the day with a smile, is there any better way?
September 17 Wednesday
With a schedule where we staff the museum and lead tours for two days, then have four days off, Life can be pretty pleasant. But the neat thing about how we live comes not only from what we do, but where we do it. This is our third autumn at the Umpqua River Lighthouse and Museum, yet we are just as excited to be here as if it was our first time. I've posted photo's over the past few days of the foggy scene that appears out the front window at the start of the day, but it isn't always like that.
While not a glorious sunny day, the view is special never the less, and I'll show you why.
Not everything is apparent at first and these caladiums are a good example. In that front window view they were tucked down in the bottom right hand corner, hardly noticeable in the gray light of the early morning. Many months and several thousand of miles ago they got their start when we were in Fredericksburg, Texas over the winter. Linda was looking for something to plant which would provide color and atmosphere for the spring and summer, on the pleasant sunny afternoon of February 21st they were planted with great fanfare. But from that moment on they simply sulked. No sign of life, no slight bulge on the soil surface, to put it bluntly, no nothing.
Then when we were in Silver City, NM, in March, having run out of patience with those bulbs, Linda set out one day to dig them out and throw them away, deciding that her green thumb had turned into a brown thumb. Imagine her surprise when after digging into the pot, she found those bulbs had indeed started to sprout, apparently resting just below the surface, waiting for the ideal time to spring forth. With gentle loving care she replaced the soil and returned to once again giving them an occasional drink to supplement the constant stream of good thoughts she was directing towards them.
Unfortunately it seemed to do no good, and try as she might, she just couldn't coax them out of their slumber. I, on the other hand figured it "weren't no slumber they was in", rather it was a full blown coma. Kinda like, she - resting before springing forth, he - comatose, if not dead and dessicated. In mid June, when we were getting ready to leave for Europe, she still didn't have the heart to throw them away, setting them outside, knowing full well the pot would dry out and mercifully put an end to their state of suspended animation. Imagine her surprise after returning in August she discovered they had not only survived, they had thrived, something they have continued to do until this day. See, and you thought that first photo was just another of Bob's boring photo's of the view out the front window.
The day was spent in research and more research, Linda doing most of it on the computer. We finally decided to try a subscription to one of the genealogy websites for a month and she was really getting into it. The hunt is on for one of those missing links that occur far to often through the pages of history. Will we locate it? Maybe yes, maybe no, but it sure won't be from lack of trying as you can see from the intensity displayed by the little old researcher shown in this photo. (Let's see if the Editor allows that one.)
The rest of the day was more of the same, with the handsome sharp family researcher occasionally spelling the previously mentioned researcher. (That's called really pushing my luck with the Editor.) Our best efforts not withstanding, it was a day of fruitless searching, but we understand the haystack is mighty big and it is going to take a while to find that little tiny needle.
Dinner was once again barbecued beef, with the ice cream following later for dessert. I don't know how I managed to go through a day without taking a photo of any meals, but I'll work on correcting that fault. It wasn't an evening of all relaxation and no action however, as we came under attack by a giant boohawker. It was Linda who saved the day, or practically destroyed the coach depending on your point of view . Grabbing a fly swatter she went after that leftover remnant from prehistoric times with a vicious flailing attack a Jackie Chan would have been proud of. Along windows, under the table top, past cupboards and countertop she pursued. Faster than the eye could follow that swatter descended time and time again, till at least cornered and exhausted in the sink, the boohawker breathed its last. With a triumphal shout she hoisted it for all present to see. [Editor's comment: Bob did describe it well, he was lucky not to be swatted]
Now wouldn't you rather see photo's of those delicious meals we have rather than bashed boohawkers?
Just like yesterday, today ended with a smile, ain't Life wonderful.
September 18 Thursday
Another morning in paradise, something we have never become accustomed with or take for granted. For me it was an opportunity to do some writing, proving just how much difference a day actually makes. I can remember many, many months ago writing about the amount of dedication it takes to write each and everyday. Now after a year of almost total sloth, it is time to begin again to fulfill that vision. As I sat in front of the computer I realized I was not the only one with visions dancing in my head this morning. From the backroom I could detect no rumbles or growls. Nary a sound reminiscent of a chainsaw or grizzly bear could be heard. I could only conclude that sleeping beauty's head was filled with sweet dreams, visions that brought with them peace and rest.
I was simply amazed at how easily the words came and it caused me to wonder if my inability to write had simply been in my head. Looking out the front window, the bright lights of a fishing boat returning to Salmon Harbor punctuated the gray morning. Would there be tuna for sale today? What would we do today? Thoughts that just a few scant years ago would have been totally foreign to me. Then it would have been thoughts about work, that all encompassing endeavor that seems to consume so much of our Life.
Now before anyone thinks I am just taking the same photo and simply changing the amount of gray color each day, it isn't so. I guess one could think there is a dreary sameness to the mornings hereabouts, but that would be incorrect. I wouldn't object to the use of sameness, but dreary, no way. If you were here just now as that bright bubbly blond bounced into the front of coach, puffing and fluffing her untamed locks, while muttering something about having to wash them today, you'd have a smile on your face and an different take on Life, just as I did.
It wasn't long after all this took place that I heard, "There's a really big ship out there." My first thought was that it was just another fishing boat, and when I didn't respond she called out, "Come look." Since my concentration was totally broken in terms of writing, I glanced up and saw nothing even though she was intently looking out the front window. Knowing what would happen if I just returned to writing, I got up, took a look, and wonder of wonders, she was right.
It was the Coast Guard Buoy Tender, note the crane and large buoys on board.
It worked on the red buoy, the one closest to the triangle for a very long time then sailed off. This where the little birdie perched on the mast of the ship would come in handy. Was there a problem with this buoy or was it just routine maintenance? Of course if it was routine maintenance why didn't they also work on the other buoy? Somethings we will just never know, just like a lot of other things in life.
If nothing else it did make time go faster and almost before you know it, it was lunch time. It also reminded me that writing the daily journal was not the only thing that gotten dropped around here. The daily lunch of turkey rollups that had been our standard for over three years had also been cast aside. We had simply gotten out of the habit while we toured Europe this summer, however within the past few days we have been edging ever closer to a return engagement.
Unfortunately by the time I thought about taking a photo this was all that was left, but is should be enough to give you a good idea of what we had for lunch, I think. Well, I couldn't let a day go by without a photo what we were eating, could I? As for the rest of the day, it was consumed with a special project we are working on while here at the lighthouse. Though maybe it would be more accurate to say: I'm trying to work on. Linda, meanwhile, did some research while I was busy writing.
The day had one final treat in store for us, an actual sunset. For the past several weeks the fog has rolled in each evening, totally obscuring the sun, but tonight this was what we saw.
As you can see, it was just another evening in paradise.
September 19 Friday
This day dawned with something extra, a little ray of sunshine. It didn't last for long, and it wasn't much, shining only on the Coast Guard tower, but it was almost as if it were an omen, letting us know that our plan for going over to Reedsport today was the right thing to do.
How many times do we see things and wish we had taken a photo at just the right moment. One of those moments presented itself this morning, in the form of Linda and the battle of the vitamins. We use those little plastic containers with the day of the week on them to hold our daily dose of vitamins, or maybe I should say to hold mine. Especially since that container struggles mightily to contain the handful that Linda takes regularly each day. What with my problem (mental not physical) of swallowing pills of any size, it would take me hours to get that pile of pills taken, but with her it is a few swallows of water and everything is down the hatch.
This morning something went wrong, not with the swallowing, though she does choke on them occasionally and I will readily testify the results are not pretty, but this morning it was something else. It's called picking the container up the wrong way, upside down, then managing to flip open two of the little compartments which are overflowing with vitamins while you are swinging it through the air. The result is something akin to a game of pick-up-sticks like we used to play as kids, only with stubby sticks and words that little girls never used. Eventually order was restored and the day was restarted in a more orderly fashion.
After the dishes were done, and as I sat at my computer, I started hearing strange noises, It took a while to figure out what they were, but I eventually determined they were coming from up near the drivers seat of the coach.
That's Linda trying to remove the wiper blade from the arm so we can take it over to the NAPA auto parts store in Reedsport and see about getting a replacement. To fast forward, at the store we learned NAPA does not carry just the blades, you have to buy the entire blade and arm assembly for around $50 each. Needless to say we passed on that one and will do some Internet searching for alternatives because past experience tells me Trico makes replacement blades for everything, it's just a matter of doing a little research.
If nothing else, all that noise got me out outside to discover it was a glorious day. Since she never did figure out how to get that blade out, it wasn't long before I was up on the stool taking one out. Her next job for me was to fix lunch so we could head off to town. After my miscue with the lunch photo yesterday I was bound and determined to make up for it today, not only making sure to get a photo, but also preparing a great old-fashioned, healthy lunch.
Our trip to Reedsport included a stop at the Post Office so Linda could mail some Ebay packages. Of the last 16 items she has listed, all 16 have sold, a new record for her since it usually about every 2 out 3 that sell. We also took time to stop in at the library and do a little research on the early history of the area, finding a nice book about the early days of Gardiner, which was the business hub of the lower river back when the current lighthouse was constructed.
Our next stop was accidental, caused by my making a wrong turn, which took us across the Umpqua River Bridge. Looking to turn around we noticed an historical marker at a tiny pullout at the north end of the bridge. It was for Jedediah Smith, an early explorer and fur trapper. That description doesn't even scratch the surface of all he did and I definitely will have to find a book about him and read more about his fascinating life story.
As I finished up reading the marker, Linda said there was a trail back to a park and so that is how we managed to discover something very unusual. The further along the trail we proceeded, the more we noticed there was a whitish coating on much of the vegetation.
We kept wondering what it was and as Linda reached out to touch some of it, I remarked, "Wouldn't it be funny it was bird poop," or words to that effect. Further on we came upon a sign that gave us our answer.
My guess had indeed been correct.
Those birds are not just little sparrow sized birds, that leave a tiny little while calling card behind. No indeed, these Double Crested Cormorants have a wing span of nearly four feet, eat a huge amount of fish, and a leave a white calling card appropriate with the size of their appetite.
You will note that the sign also has a healthy dose of fertilizer on it. While there was definitely humor in what was currently taking place on this little island there was also a poignant past, as witnessed by this plaque embedded in a large boulder near the start of the trail.
Looking at that plaque one could only wonder what events had taken place that would have resulted in the loss of those children. As I so often say in ending the tours through the lighthouse: History is not just places, famous people, dates, names or those often time boring words in a book we had to study in school. History is more often real people who lived just as we do, leaving only the barest trace of their passing, yet if we discover their story, it is more interesting than any novel. That is why history is worth saving.
Beauty, like history, comes in many forms and is in the eye of the beholder.
September 20 Saturday
After our adventures of yesterday we were both feeling a little pooped when we got up this morning. Well not really, but I just couldn't help making that pun. What happened was that we were treated to the sight of several types of birds we hadn't seen before, feasting in the area beside the coach.
There was a number of these birds, but try as we might, we couldn't discover what they were. That was even with the aid of our Oregon bird book we got last year when we were volunteering at Denman Wildlife Area. The other type of bird we saw was easier to identify, mostly because of the bright reddish colored patches at the sides of its throat. It turned out to be a red throat flicker, which I guess stands to reason given its markings and tendency to flit around. As we so often point out, we aren't bird people, but every once in a while we get lucky.
It was while looking for the bird information that we noticed movement down in the dune area. Whatever it was, it was definitely much bigger than an ant, a bird, or even an ATV for that matter.
It turned out to be something else we had never seen from our window, horses and riders. The area directly in front of the coach is a no ride zone for the ATVs and that was where the horses and riders were.
Over the next half hour or so we noticed horses and riders in various places in the dunes. We never did learn what it was all about, but maybe there will be something in this week's paper. While I worked away on the computer, Linda was busy making preparations for our upcoming weekend trip to Portland. Between the packing and the wrapping, I think the only moment she did not have a smile on her face was when I took this photo. Knowing her, it also probably had her eyes closed, as I seem to always get accused of taking her picture at precisely the wrong moments. One thing I do know for sure is that she is really looking forward to our little trip.
Lest you think I had just been sitting around while she was busy working, I was not. I had been cooking most of the day. Well maybe not actually cooking like a cook, but this morning I had trimmed the pork we bought yesterday, then put it in the slow cooker along with some frozen tomatilla sauce. We are down to the very bottom of the barrel when it comes to the things which were in the chest freezer we had at the house, as was indicated by the date of 8-19-01 on the pint of homemade sauce.
The problem with cooking this way is that eventually you actually have to do the things a cook does. One thing Linda dearly loves is shredded meat, and one thing she dearly dislikes is to shred meat. That never prevented us from enjoying shredded meat, it just required a little persuasion on her part. Of course now that I do the cooking and she doesn't have to do any persuading, it seems like the request for shredded meat is made more often. That I am a whiz at this shredding thing is a given, just look at the blur those flying forks make if you don't believe me.
I will say that given the enormous amount of pork I had to shred, Linda was an alright girl, pitching right in and making the corn pudding we have come to love, then whipping up some refried beans. Slice a tomato, add some sesame crackers and a dash of candlelight, what you get is a wonderful meal.
We ended the day by watching a movie on the Hallmark channel, then while Linda spent some time on the computer, I headed back to read. That was when something caught my eye. The something was a glimpse into the way we live.
There is only so much room in an RV, and when we sit for a time, things seem to migrate from the basement storage areas up to our living space. I can only shudder at how difficult it must be for the" everything has a place and can only be in its place" type of personality to live like this. That doesn't mean that there isn't a place for everything and things are not in there place when we travel. For when we travel everything is most definitely "in its place". But when we sit a while we loosen up and enjoy our home, after all isn't that what it is all about - Enjoying Life? I know we do.