Finding Mom & Dad & Spencer Jack At Bay View State Park In 2008 With Hortense

Of late, a time or two, or three, I will come upon something whilst looking for something, a photo, usually, which renders me melancholy upon seeing that which I have come upon.

Last night I was looking for photos of Mount Rainier. I knew I should have plenty, including many from my most recent up-close visit to Washington's biggest volcano, back in August of 2008.

Some time back I realized that the archived photos I have on this computer are not actually stored on this computer, but are in the Cloud, stored via Microsoft OneDrive. Hence why I have trouble, sometimes, finding a photo I know I should be able to find.

Well, when I got the computer I am currently using, a few years back, I remember being quite impressed that once I logged into my Microsoft account my computer was mostly restored to what was on the previous computer. Things like saved bookmarks in the browser. Photos. Saved text in Notepad. And more.

I do not remember when it was I realized much of what I thought was on my computer, was actually in what is known as the Cloud.

So, last night, for some reason, it occurred to me to plug in a USB drive I'd long ago copied files on to. I remember doing that because I wanted to make sure I had some things, like the install files for Image Composer. 

Well.

On the USB drive there is a folder called photos. And in that folder are the photos that are now in the Cloud. Along with photos which are not in the Cloud, which I had feared to be lost, like the Mount Rainier photos. Or the photos of the first time I met my great grand nephew, Spencer Jack, back in August of 2008.

Some of the photos you see in this blog post are from that day, way back then, when a large group of my relatives assembled at Bay View State Park, in my old home zone of the Skagit Valley.

On that day, my mom and dad and I got to meet Spencer Jack for the first time. That is mom and dad, above, with Spencer Jack held by his mom, Jenny.

Spencer Jack is now 18. Hence the feeling melancholy. Time flies. And mom and dad are no longer with us. Seems so recent mom and dad were functioning fine.

Above we see Spencer Jack meet Blue and Max, the Tacoma poodles who lived with my sister and sister-in-law, prior to the arrival of David, Theo and Ruby a few years later. Blue and Max are also no longer with us.

One of the reasons I was in Washington, at that point in time, in addition to meeting Spencer Jack, was to babysit Blue and Max, whilst their parental units went to Washington, D.C. for a few days.

Leaving Bay View State Park, that day, for reasons I do not remember, we drove by my house in Mount Vernon, which was my abode prior to moving to Texas. Maybe sister-in-law, Kristin, wanted to see it. I know I really did not much want to, knowing seeing it would made me feel, well, melancholy. 

As you can see, this was a rather unique house, surrounded by trees. The roof deck garden above the carport is something I suppose I miss most. I grew a lot of things. Blueberries, basil, strawberries, tomatoes, lots of flowers.

The back of the house had another deck, multi-level, entered from the kitchen, overlooking a ravine and creek. 

My multiple Texas abodes have never been anywhere near what I was enjoying living in, in Washington, neither the abodes, nor the locations of the abodes, scenery-wise. I could see the Mount Baker volcano, hovering in the distance, from my living room windows.

Now, I am off to find photos I am sure exist which I took up close of Mt. St. Helens, way back in the 1990s.

Well, I found the Mt. St. Helens photos. And also found photos of my Mount Vernon, Pawnee Lane, abode, rendering a fresh melancholy bout.

Below are two of those Mount Vernon house photos...

Above we are on the deck above the carport. Most of the garden part of the deck is behind me. That is one of the blueberry bushes on the right. A large section of the deck had a glass-roofed awning above it. You can see that above the BBQ grill and the small table. There was also a hammock under that awning, which I spent many a fine hour on.

I have no daylight photos of the living room, from whence one could see the Mount Baker volcano, on a clear day. 

My morning ritual, back then, was to read the morning paper, as in the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, whilst laying on the floor, drinking coffee, with my cat, Hortense, reading with me.

I miss having a real newspaper to read. Online versions are just really not the same thing.

Hortense made the move to Texas, arriving in the Lone Star State a couple months before I did. Hortense made the journey, sedated, in a special carrier device, made for flying felines.

Hortense did a lot of crying and hiding when she first arrived at her new Texas abode. To calm her, Hortense's temporary caretaker would call me so I could talk to Hortense. Just my voice calmed the nervous girl.

Hortense was noticeably happy to see me when I finally arrived in Texas. She lasted for a couple years, before suffering a fatal stroke. Hortense is buried in a horse pasture that was part of my first Texas abode, in the small hamlet of Haslet, at the far north side of Fort Worth.

And now I must do something aerobic to break me free from this current melancholy mood...

Sitting By A Texas Bayou Talking To My Sister In Hoodsport Thinking About Anonymous Morons

Up early this morning, swimming soon after the sun arrived. Made webpages all morning. Took off to Village Creek Natural Historic Area, to walk to my favorite contemplation spot, sitting on a picnic table to look out at the Village Creek Bayou.

And contemplate.

This used to be a big pond filled with water. It is where I saw my first cluster of water moccasins. I don't know if any water moccasins live in the pond's current bayou format.

After I got bored contemplating I called my Big Sister. My Big Sister is rarely home on weekends, so when I call I never know where she will be. This time it was Hoodsport, on Hood Canal, staying at her place at Lake Cushman.

I got a long happy birthday letter yesterday from my favorite aunt, Auntie A. Auntie A. is left handed. All the oldest in the various family units of my relatives are left-handed. As far as I know. I don't know if the youngest, Spencer Jack, is left-handed. My sister told me Spencer Jack is being real fun to play with. And he talks a lot now. I last saw Spencer Jack a little over 2 years ago. He was not yet 2, then.

I forgot to ask my sister if Spencer Jack is left-handed.

That is Spencer Jack sitting with my ex-wife, Loretta, in the picture. They are at Bay View State Park, in Washington. Spencer Jack is so-named because someone advised my nephew that you can not go wrong naming your kid after your richest relative. So, Spencer is named after my ex-wife, which might clue you in as to her last name.

My dad gave Spencer Jack the Jack part of his name. My dad is rich in character. My nephew made a good name choice.

Everyone, including me, thinks Spencer Jack is such a cute kid.

Everyone, except, I knew this moron, a couple years ago, who actually said to me the only reason I think Spencer Jack is so cute is because he is from my tribe.

I was told this after the moron commented about a friend of hers having an ugly grandbaby. I remember thinking what an awful thing to say, and then I said something like I guess they can't all be cute like Spencer Jack. That is when the moron said the idiotic tribe thing. It goes without saying I no longer speak to this miscreant. What makes the tribe comment really amusing, as it pertains to this particular moron, is the fact that her tribe would be known as the Fat Ugly Big Mouth Tribe, if any still existed. I believe she's the last living member of the Fat Ugly Big Mouth Tribe.

Darwinian selection works.

Okay, now this blogging is going to turn even stranger. So, I talked to my sister for maybe a half an hour. Had a real nice chat. Got back here, made lunch, ate, then woke up the computer to write the blogging you are reading right now.

I saw incoming comments to the blog. One was from the ubiquitous Anonymous. It is a disturbing comment. I did not hit the "Publish" button on it. This is what Anonymous commented...

"Glad to hear that Nephew JR's heart condition has improved. He may be the only family relative who has been doctor ordered off such stimulants....the rest of the family seems to be hooked on heavy depresents, perticulary alcohol. This must be a deeply troubled bunch of folkes. Have you considered DNA testing to affirm that you too are a part of this stimuli/depresent thrill seeking family who never appears happy with their current state and must alter such with chemicals?"

I've not yet solved the mystery of who the Anonymous Relative was, who commented on my birthday blogging, saying I was wise, among other things. And now this?

I would suspect the aforementioned moron as the comment source, due to the multiple misspellings and redundancies, like "family relative." But I don't think it's the moron. Even though that particular moron can be amazingly hypocritical, I don't even think she'd have the gall to make comments about anyone else being medicated, due to the fact that she is constantly dosed with heavy duty meds to somewhat control her rages and irrational impulses.

Whoever Anonymous is, the person is sadly misinformed. DNA testing, years ago, proved I am not related to my relatives. I think it was my little sister who insisted on DNA testing after I repeatedly set off a security alarm in her house. I know of none of my relatives on heavy depressants. There may be one or two who might consume more adult libations than they should. My mom and dad are total teetotalers.

Maybe Anonymous is privy to information I am not and my relatives are actually a deeply troubled bunch of folks, never happy with their current state and they just put on a jolly act for me whenever I talk to them.

It's all very perplexing. But one thing I do know for 100% certain, Spencer Jack is darn cute.

An Unforgettable Moonlit Swim In Washington

A few days ago one of my favorite friends from way back in high school got into our senior annuals. She thought what I wrote in her annual was amusing, due to me making a rather bizarre spelling error. I was mortified when I saw it.

I then dug out my ancient annual to see what the spell checker, I'll call Miss B, wrote in my annual.

Well, the only thing that caught my interest was a line that said "I won't forget Bay View in the moonlite!"

I had no memory of anything unforgettable about Bay View in the moonlight. So, I asked a mutual friend, also one of my favorites, if she could remember what Miss B was talking about. Well, this third party, who I will call Miss C, did remember what was memorable about Bay View in the moonlight.

Before I queried Miss C, I had replied to Miss B's message and asked her what the moonlight at Bay View, never to be forgotten memory was. She did not get back to me on that, but instead called Miss C and asked her if she remembered. Then Miss B got back to me, as appalled as I am, that neither of us remember Bay View in the moonlight. It is interesting that Miss C was both our go to sources to solve this puzzle. Apparently we both realize that Miss C's memory function has not deteriorated as much as ours.

Miss C has told us that the 3 of us were at Bay View on a moonlit night. To non-Washingtonians, let me explain, Bay View is a state park on Padilla Bay in Puget Sound. It is a shallow bay, so when the day is warm and the tide is low, the incoming water gets quite warm. Which it was the night of the memorable moonlight at Bay View that Miss B and me have totally forgotten.

So, with the water being enticing and us kids without proper swimwear, according to Miss C, we decided to go swimming in our underwear. Like Miss B said, wouldn't you think we'd remember this? Now, I was a boxer wearer at the time, so this would have been no big deal. But those girls getting down to their skivvies under the moonlight? If that happened, I'm thinking I would remember it.

I've suggested, to Miss C, that maybe she is remembering an incident at Baker Hot Springs. Although I don't clearly remember going there with Miss B & Miss C. Baker Hot Springs is a clothing optional type place, but at our tender, young ages, and being sweet, innocent kids, I don't think that would have been an option. But, I could see where hot springing in undies might have happened. I never had the full Baker Hot Springs experience til a year or two after high school.

Anyway, that's what's been perplexing and vexing me today. Being unable to remember a moonlit night at Bay View. Yet one more sign that I'm getting old and quickly losing cerebral function. Be kind to the elderly.

Below is a really short YouTube video I made last summer while up at Bay View to meet my grand little nephew for the first time. Apparently I did not put this video on this blog, but did put it on the Blue & Max Blog, those being the pair of cute little poodles you'll see in the video. You'll also get a good look at Padilla Bay and the location of the moonlit undie dip at Bay View.

Seeing Spencer Jack

That last time I was up in Washington was April of 2006. I had a primary reason to be here at that time, with the secondary reason being to attend the wedding of my oldest nephew, Jason to a sweet, funny, good-natured, likable, pretty young lady named Jenny.

About a year and a half later Spencer Jack was born, making my brother and my favorite ex-sister-in-law, grandparents. And my mom and dad great-grandparents.

My mom and dad were unable to attend the wedding. They have not met Spencer Jack. Nor have I.

Spencer Jack is so named because someone told my impressionable nephew that you can not go wrong naming your oldest kid after your richest relative. So, Spencer was given the same name as my ex-wife's last name. It's very confusing.

Tomorrow Spencer Jack's Great-Grandma and Great-Grandpa will see him for the first time. It will also be the first time Spencer Jack gets to meet his favorite Great Uncle. That's me.

We will be meeting Spencer Jack up in the Skagit Valley at a place called Bay View State Park. Spencer Jack's dad will be real busy tomorrow due to his Jason's Grub restaurant being in Anacortes and it being the weekend of the Anacortes Arts & Crafts Festival.

We currently do not know who is bringing Spencer Jack out to Bay View. It may be his Uncle Joey. Or my ex-sister-in-law. Or someone else. It'd be nice if Spencer's mom could bring him out if his dad was not available.

So where is Spencer Jack's mother in this picture? Well, I'm glad you asked. In a turn of events none of us saw coming, my nephew is in the process of being divorced from the adorably sweet, kind, good-hearted, nice girl he married.

I hope my nephew will someday be as friendly with his ex-wife as I am with mine. I've not seen my ex since the aforementioned wedding. She'll be there tomorrow. It's hard to get divorced in my family. They just don't let you go. I wonder if this has anything to do with why I moved to Texas?