Perseid Meteor Shower

Last weekend was the peak of the annual Perseid Meteor Shower. During this event, meteors supposedly appear at a rate of over 60 per hour! I know that the best viewing conditions are away from city lights, and even though I am usually in a well-lit area, I spend time outside each August hoping to catch a glimpse of a meteor. Year after year I am disappointed.

On Sunday night, Jacob and I were on the road traveling from Houston to Fort Collins. We knew that we would be in a perfect location for meteor spotting after the sunset - in rural, pitch black southern Colorado. We were heading north on I-25 from the New Mexico border towards Wyoming from 9 p.m. until 1 a.m. As expected, there were few lights to be found, the sky was clear, and the stars were out. I was beyond excited that I would finally see some Perseids. Probably many. Maybe even one hundred. Our situation could not have been more ideal. I never thought that we would actually see one meteor every minute, but I was confident that we would most likely witness ten or more per hour. We carefully scanned the sky for 260 miles. Guess how many meteors we counted?

Zero.

I have no idea why I have such bad luck when it comes to meteor viewing, but if you ever want to enjoy a meteor shower, do not hang around me. I do hope that someday my luck will change and I will be fortunate enough to catch some Perseids because I sure was dismayed that I missed out on them again this year.

Graceland

On our drive from Michigan to Texas last week, Jacob and I detoured off the freeway in Memphis long enough to visit the home of Elvis Presley. The Graceland admission price included tours of the mansion, an automobile museum, and the King's two private airplanes. The house would certainly not be considered a mansion by today's standards, but Jake and I both had a wonderful time wandering around the 70s inspired rooms while our audio headsets explained everything in detail. I knew that Elvis was buried somewhere on the Graceland estate, yet I was surprised when we were allowed to view his grave. After checking out the 13+ acre property, we were shuttled across the street to see the cars and planes. The automobile collection was funky & interesting and the airplanes were impressive. Overall, Jacob and I really liked our tour of Graceland, and we are both happy that we finally decided to stop in Memphis.

Jacob stood on the front steps of Graceland.

We checked out the King's pool.

The "Lisa Marie."

Welcome to Houston

The Airbus 380 is the world's largest passenger airliner and it has been flying commercially for less than five years. No American airline owns one, so the only time an A380 is in the U.S. is when a foreign company uses this behemoth on a routing between their country and ours. Six airports in the United States have runways that can handle the jumbo jet, and I had heard that Lufthansa German Airlines planned to start using one of their A380s daily between Frankfort and Houston. I had no idea when this service was scheduled to begin until Jim informed me on Wednesday morning that Lufthansa's inaugural A380 flight was going to arrive at IAH that very afternoon and that the airport was hosting an "A380 Houston Party." Luckily, I was in Texas, and I knew that I just had to zip over to the airport to watch the plane land there for the very first time. Jacob agreed to accompany me and we got to the staging area about 40 minutes before the flight was due in. There were thousands of other airplane geeks waiting on the grassy field just north of runway 26 right, which totally surprised Jake, who was sure that there would only be about five or six people there. Naturally, the weather was hot and humid, and we stood around sweating under the blazing Houston sun while listening to a local band play German music. Eventually, the Airbus 380 came into view, the crowd cheered wildly, the wheels touched down, then the aircraft taxied slowly to its gate. It was an impressive sight for me to see, though not quite as exciting for Jacob. I think I may head back over to IAH sometime soon to watch the giant plane land and take off again.

The huge jet has an upper deck that spans the entire length of the aircraft.

Camping

Jim and I joined 21 friends and family members last Thursday for our annual camping trip. We all met at the Kaleva farm this year, set up tents, built a campfire, and proceeded to have a great time. I ordered a port-a-potty to be delivered to the property for the weekend because - despite valiant efforts by Richie, Steve, and others - the water pump in the old house would not work. The toilet rental company promised that the unit would be "aesthetically pleasing and enhanced with a mountain breeze fragrance," and they did not disappoint! One thing we noticed, however, was that as the days wore on, the "waste" piled up higher and higher in a hill directly underneath the toilet seat, while fresh, blue water stayed empty on the sides. Cobra and I joked that port-a-potties should come equipped with some sort of shaker, or at the very least a stirrer stick, to more evenly distribute the "waste" in the bowl.

Our group spent Friday at a beach on Lake Michigan soaking up the sun. Some of the more hardy souls actually ventured into the not-so-warm water to swim. During a walk on the "back forty" of the farm in the evening, eleven of us encountered a neighbor's growling dog and I, for one, was quite intimidated. At night, Marilyn's boyfriend, Pat, raced their car at the Northern Michigan Dragway near the farm. Always looking for ways to be thrifty, a bunch of us were able to view the competition for free from a deserted country road at the end of the race track. On Saturday, most of the gang opted to go canoeing, which ended up turning into a (very popular!) kayaking trip instead. Some of us watched a fireworks display in town at 10 p.m., and then we rounded off our busy night by sitting around the campfire until the wee hours.

Jim and I, along with our passengers, Cobra and Charlie, had to leave the farm at 10:30 on Sunday morning so that we could drop Jim off at Flint's airport in time for him to catch a 3:30 p.m. flight back to Houston. While we were tooling down M-115 south of Cadillac, Jim abruptly pulled the CRV over to the side of the road and casually announced, "The roof box just blew open." Cobra immediately burst into a bout of laughter and Charlie worriedly inquired as to whether any of his belongings had been riding in the "Rocket Box." Our huge, green tarp and an old blanket had flown up & away, and were distant blobs in the center of the highway behind us. I hopped out to fetch our stuff, happy that most of the items in the roof box had been heavy enough to stay put. Fortunately, there were only a few other cars whizzing by and I was able to grab the tarp and blanket off the pavement while Jim secured the box shut - this time properly. Luckily, we had built in some extra travel time in case we ran into traffic jams enroute to the airport, and we got Jim to FNT with time to spare. And, just as I predicted to Cobra, when Adam heard about the roof box mishap, he assured me that there was no chance that any of his things would ever be transported up there again.

Jim and Jake shared a kayak.

People sat in the shade a lot because it was so hot.

Jim posed at Arcadia beach.

Here and There

Jim, Jacob, Irma, and I cruised home from the Upper Peninsula on Monday. Adam continued his vacation with his friends, stopping at Mackinac Island & the Sleeping Bear Dunes on his way back to the condo. We all had a wonderful time up north, especially Irma, who at 88-years-old kept up with the rest of us just fine. And, by the way, after five fruitless trips to the Calumet cemetery, our sixth was not in vain, as we finally found the elusive grave of Irma's friend who had passed away in April.

Jim flew to Houston on Tuesday morning and Adam arrived back in Colorado on Thursday after putting some 8,000 or so miles on his Jeep during his 4-week-long road trip. Jacob and I are hanging out in Michigan this week, searching for and preparing the gear for our upcoming camping trip.

 Look at the gas prices we found in Tennessee two weeks ago!

 Jim, Jacob, and cousin Dave teed it up at the Calumet Golf Club. 

Jacob made a hole at the beach. We forgot to bring shovels from home, so we borrowed the ice bucket from our hotel to use for digging. It worked just fine.

Adam hid his face from the sun - or maybe he just didn't want to look at us?

U.P.

Jim, Jacob, and I made the trek from Texas to Michigan last weekend. Our drive was fairly uneventful, with the exception of the fire alarm going off at our hotel in Kentucky, and then having to halt our drive in Ohio for 20 minutes due to a severe thunderstorm. (And, by the way, why is it that during the fire alarm fiasco, the hotel hallway was filled with women checking things out, while all the men - Jim included - slept right through the piercing noise?) On Wednesday, we picked up Irma and continued north to the Upper Peninsula for our annual Calumet trip. Adam joined us in the U.P. and we have enjoyed getting together with our cousins every day. The boys have gone golfing twice, while Irma and I have spent entirely too much time tooling around the local cemetery trying to find the graves of some recently-deceased friends and relatives. Tomorrow we plan to visit our little cabin on Lake Superior and dip our toes into the probably-freezing-cold water. We'll then be heading back to southeast Michigan on Monday. Time to park the Grand Cherokee for a while and give it a break from the 200-250 miles per day that the poor thing has averaged since we bought it 19 days ago.

A Taste of Texas

Jake and I arrived in Houston last week to typical hot and humid summertime weather. We continually whine about the southern heat, but enjoy swimming in our pool, which boasts lovely 86 degree water. Even though that may seem too warm for some people, it is the perfect pool temperature, in my opinion. It is, after all, almost 20 degrees below the air temp, and I actually feel chilly when the 105 degree breeze hits me as I emerge from the water. The relentless heat does wear thin after a while, though, and both Jacob and I usually look forward to getting back up north to cooler weather after spending an extended period of time in Texas. But - whoa - now the temperatures in Michigan have also been at the century mark and above. What is going on with this heatwave? We do plan to head to the U.P. around the 4th of July, so hopefully we will find a reprieve from 90 and 100 degree temperatures up there.

Texas in the shade - temperatures that only Norm could appreciate.

I'm Sirius

After searching for a new SUV for a few months, Jim and I finally decided to purchase a Jeep Grand Cherokee. It has tons of room and I was delighted to find that it got over 25 miles to the gallon on my recent drive from Michigan to Texas. Even though we didn't buy the fancy-schmancy model, our version has many awesome standard features that typically cost extra in other vehicles. Besides things like 4-wheel-drive and rear seat air/heat vents, our Jeep came with free Sirius satellite radio for a year. I must admit that not only was I underwhelmed when our sales guy informed us about this service, I also did not really know what it entailed. When Jake and I were cruising through the boonies of Kentucky the other day, we were annoyed that we couldn't find a radio station without static. I clicked on the Sirius button and things have not been the same since then.  I scanned through many of the available channels - including music from the 40s, 50s, 60s, every kind of rock or talk, weather, traffic, show tunes, country, etc. - and became "siriusly" transfixed. I fell in love with the songs from the 70s station and reminisced for hours while listening to familiar tune after tune after tune. I hadn't heard "Chick a Boom" for decades! I am now a sucker for Sirius and only time will tell if this is just a phase I am going through or if I am hopelessly hooked on satellite radio.

Plumbing 101

I was sitting at Jacob's computer the other night and began to smell a disgusting sewer stench permeating the air. I walked into the adjacent bathroom, but could not pinpoint exactly where the odor was coming from. Retreating back to the computer, I hoped that the smell would just go away. Unfortunately, it only became worse. I sniffed around the bathroom again and discovered that the offensive odor was coming from the bathtub drain. This seemed odd to me because we never even use that particular tub - everyone at the condo always uses the shower in the master bathroom. I assumed that I would have to call a plumber in the morning to assess the issue. Puzzled and annoyed, I went to the internet and looked up "sewer smells coming from bathtubs." It surprised me to find numerous articles all recommending the same quick fix to my stinky dilemma. The solution? Simply run a quart of water into the drain. Apparently, the curvy pipe underneath sinks and tubs actually has a purpose. After you use water, some of it stays in the curvy part, thus forming a seal that keeps sewer gases and crawling vermin from coming up through the pipe. When a fixture goes unused for a month or more, the water seal evaporates, allowing a gross stench to enter your room. They say that this phenomenon is most common in guest bathrooms and other seldom-used areas.

I couldn't really believe that the solution to this mess would be as easy as a quart of water, but I decided to give it a try. I overcompensated and ran a few gallons of H2O down the drain. Thirty minutes later, the odor was indeed dissipating. After an hour had gone by, any remaining sewer-y smells had pretty much disappeared. When two hours had passed, the bathroom was fresh and clean with no remaining hint of the putrid problem. (Okay, it wasn't really fresh and clean because it is, after all, the bathroom that a 15-year-old boy uses.) I went to sleep that night patting myself on the back for a job well done. Now I just have to remember to run water in the tub - and every other unused drain - every month or so to avoid a repeat of the matter.

Angry Birds

When Jake and I were getting ready for school early one morning, we noticed a plethora of geese outside the condo window. The critters occasionally wander around our little court area, but typically they stay in the pond across the street. I am not fond of them, mostly because they peck around in the neighborhood flowers and leave behind icky goose droppings. When Jake and I went outside to leave for school, I told him to stomp his feet to shoo the feathered fiends away, assuring him that they would just scamper off. On this particular day, the adults were obviously teaching the youngsters how to be intimidating & annoying because as soon as we stepped onto the driveway, the geese all ran towards us. Fast. Jake and I freaked out and jumped into the CRV with dozens of the birds uncomfortably close behind. The flock moved aside as we backed into the street, but I was concerned that they would still be mingling when I returned home after dropping Jake off. It was garbage day and I had no intention of tangling with the varmints while I hauled my trash to the curb. Thankfully, they were gone when I got back, and I brought my bags & recycling out without being attacked. They did leave eleven piles of poop in our driveway, which I cleaned up and deposited into a trash bag. So gross. I have been wondering ever since that day why we need geese in the world. They brought down Sully's airplane, for goodness sake. Decades ago, Canadian geese were near extinction, but they made an incredible comeback due to conservation programs. Experts today admit that efforts to save the huge birds have been too successful and the results are not good. I don't have any answers to this dilemma. I only know that I don't really like geese.

Twenty-seven or so trouble-makers were on the prowl at 6:00 a.m. (That is our neighbor's trash. I hadn't put ours out yet.)

Holiday Weekend

On Saturday morning, Jim, Jacob, Nancy, Norm, Irma, Richie, and I hopped into a couple of vehicles and headed up to the farm in Kaleva. Since the farmhouse is no longer inhabitable, we checked into connecting rooms at a nearby, small-town motel. We have stayed at this particular place many times in the past, and, while the units are generously sized and the owners are very friendly, it also leaves a bit to be desired. Nancy, Norm, and Irma's room had a malfunctioning doorknob, and when they tried to open it to get out, the handle would just spin around in circles. If not for the door to our connecting room, the three of them would have been trapped inside. We gave them a key for our door, and kept the deadbolt unlocked so they could come and go as needed. During a thunderstorm early Sunday morning, a gust of wind blew our door completely open and wind & rain whooshed into our motel room. As the deluge continued, Jim, Jacob, and Richie all glanced up from their slumber and went right back to sleep. I had to clamor out of bed, push the door shut against the 40 mph breeze, then attempt to secure it well enough so it would stay closed. Fortunately, none of us are high-maintenance travelers, so between the door issues, dirty carpeting, and some visiting ants & crickets, we found things at the motel to be comical rather than annoying.

We did have a great weekend, despite some bouts of rain each day. (And despite having orange juice spilled all over me by our young "waitress" at breakfast on Sunday!) The guys dodged the showers and golfed both Saturday and Sunday. We met up with some cousins several different times at various restaurants, decorated graves at the cemetery, had a barbecue with relatives, and hit up the local casino. We went to a Memorial Day program at the VFW hall on Monday, where the current members display flags honoring their deceased veterans. My dad's flag from his funeral flies there each year. We were then concerned that we would encounter heavy traffic on our drive south yesterday afternoon, but were pleasantly surprised to cruise straight on home with no problems. It was a fun weekend, and was nice to visit Kaleva again after not being there for a couple of years.