Rocket Man

Our friend, Rocket.We cruised and traveled Mexico with Ian and Anne of "Alana Marie" in 1997-1999.
Back when we were all kids.
Back when Curly asked Anne what Ian did for work in his former "working life".
Back when Anne replied "He was a rocket scientist".
Um, really?
So he was "Curly christened" "Rocket".
And it stuck.

Ian Ronald Gordon
April 16, 1934 ~ October 24, 2010

Always in costume.Always entertaining.
Always with a smile.
Always with his wife.Always with his friends.Always a good time.Always taking about their children.
Always giving.
Always kind.
Always wonderful memories for us.

Swiped from my post on Ian and Anne's website:
Ahhh... the travel memories!
ROAD TRIP!!!

Yep, the Pooh, PNY's motorhome and The Thistle's little Nissan 4x4 went on a 4 day road trip camping North out of Puerto Vallarta. Quite the adventure with Jim and I being with 4 crazy people. And a psychotic cat...

At our first stop we went for a walk in the morning and met this kind of loopy Mexican lady who showed us around a small town. So we invited her for breakfast. She came with us, we fed her, then she wanted to wash our dishes. By about that time, we pretty much wanted her to go home.

At Aguamilpa we had the motorhomes parked along a road - basically along a cliff that looked down to a lake, with only a couple of feet between the RV's and the cliff.
So I (Heather) had to pee and went into someone's motorhome and left the door open, because all the crazies (Anne, Ian, Curly, Carol & Jim) were up forward and we are parked along a cliff, right? As I am sitting on the toilet a small dirty Mexican boy of about 5, with a broken arm in a homemade cast came by the open door and started talking to me. He was looking for aluminum cans. I was sitting on the toilet... so in addition to our empty aluminum cans, we gave him full aluminum cans of soda. And took his picture with me after I finished what I was doing.

Then we headed to Mexcaltitan, a small island out in the middle of a lagoon.
Carol and Curly were fighting (we won't talk about why) so Ian and Anne pretty much separated them. Anne sat with Curly and Ian sat with Curly.

As we were walking around this very small island, Anne & I passed some shrimp that were drying in the sun. Anne said, "You watch, Carol is going to ask me what ever did you do with that dried shrimp you bought?". Not 5 seconds later, Carol turned around to Anne and said, "Amoeba, what ever did you do with that dried shrimp you bought?". I about peed my pants laughing. These four people knew each other so well!


As we meandered about the island we went on a Scotch hunt. Someone told Jim they sold Scotch on this island (probably one of the crazies, because really, Scotch on a little tiny island in the middle of a lagoon?). We were knocking on people's front doors asking for Scotch. Um... no Scotch, but we were offered other things. We ate not dried shrimp in a restaurant with blaring music. Blaring! Then needing a place to camp for the night we headed away from the lagoon as we were being eaten alive. We came to a police roadblock (Semana Santa - Easter Week) and Ian asked where we could camp. The police pointed to the side of the road next to a building and said, "There". So we camped basically at a police alcohol roadblock...

Truckers would also stop there and a lady would cook them dinner. So we shared our dinner with a trucker and the lady and they shared with us. At the end of the night the lady said (in Spanish) she had a gift for me, but was sorry as she only had one and not ones for my friends. She gave me a cross-stitched napkin (beautiful, by the way) and Carol and Anne were not so happy because they didn't get squat.
We gave sodas and candy bars to the police as they kind of watched over us.

Then yes, as we were driving across a two lane bridge, the storage bin on the top of PNY's motorhome came flying off into the road. Stuff everywhere. Us scambling around picking up PNY's junk. Way too funny. We could only do these four days with these people as our sides were hurting from laughing.

Probably one of our most exhausting favorite four days ever.

Thanks for including us in your life, Rocket.

"Caregivers Sailathon" or "Let's See Who Can Come Closest to the Committee Boat Without Hitting It ~ Oops, Sorry Hit The Committee Boat"

This was supposed to be a Sailathon.
Do laps around a triangle, which consisted of a yellow racing mark and two boats.
A yellow triangle mark with a witch's hat tied to the top.
Andy & Tina's boat, "Carlina".
And our boat, "Meerkat".
This was not a race.
Let me repeat:
THIS WAS NOT A RACE!
This was see how many times you can sail around the triangle and have your sponsers pay you per lap.
All for a good cause.
Ventura Caregivers.
Ok, so one more time everyone:
This was not a race!
Had some wind.
Then it died.
Boats were going backwards at the start.Boats were coming really close to the committee boat... our boat.
We requested a few boats turn their engines on to GET THE HELL AWAY from the committee boat... our boat.
Or just fend off.
Whatever.
Please, oh please see how close you can come to my home!
Really, we like it!


We tried to be the fun boat.Halloween decorations and all.Mojitos.
It was fun for awhile.
Until I had to yell, "Don't hit my boat!"And it didn't work.
Bang.
Ouch.Holes.
Scratches.
Crack.

And until "Sunspot" got dismasted.
First, looking good.Then un oh.Jim helped them get their headsail out of the water and their anchor down.


Ok, back to racing sailing laps.













































































All good.
Except the breakages...
And the holes.And now we have to haul out.
It looks bigger than it is, but hey, any sympathy??

Money was raised.
Pierpont Bay Yacht Club was inundated.
Kenneth Crawford wines were tasted.
71 Palm mac & cheese was devoured.
Raffle prizes were won.
Awards for racing most laps were given.
War Stories were told.
Anchors Way's employees were exhausted.
Desserts from Savory Cafe disappeared.
Again, money was raised!

Scottish Highland Games aka The First Half of One Hell of a Busy Weekend

The cold that caught me earlier in the week caught Jim.
And put him down.
So Stan was my date for the day!
Stan, Mike, Bibiana and I hopped on our bikes and rode from the harbor to the fairgrounds.
Through The Keys, down the beach bike path, down the promenade ~ a super easy, flat, mellow ride!
Free parking right in front of the gate.
The only way to go!

We had a beer to cool off after the ride.
And listened and sort of watched the opening bagpipe bands.
This was my view.
The backs of the guards.One being quite the flirt.

We were introduced to a new clan.
Clan Batman.Saw the typical sick Scottish sense of humor.Saw that they continue to start 'em young with weapons.Saw the same drunk Scots want-to-be's cool t-shirts that I so want to buy one for Jim.And spent the majority of the time watching The Wicked Tinkers!

And why not?
Bagpipes.
Big drums.

One local guy.
And one that ends up on your picnic table.

They play the ever so popular "We Want Whisky" song.
Apparently it works...Except for the guy who mis-understood and handed them a flask with tequila in it.
Really, tequila at the Highland Games?
That's a first.
Saw new up & coming musicians.Who got to go up on stage and play with the big boys.Watched Celtic Spring ~ awesome young musicians and dancers!
Also local.
They were playing indoors ~ no pics as I like to avoid the whole flash in the eyes of performers when possible.

And had some Scotch.Then rode home.

Today!

We will see men people in kilts.Listen to bagpipes.
Drink beer.
Wonder who wears underwear.
Buy a new Scottish flag.
Listen to The Wicked Tinkers.
Look at more men people in kilts.
Drink Scotch.
Watch men throw big long longs the size of Chevy Suburbans.
Eat haggis.
Listen to more bagpipes.

Pretending to Be in The Tropics

I can't say I miss being in La Paz during the summer.
Well... there were a couple of things I liked.
I liked not working.
I liked the book exchange in the marina.
I didn't like the relentless heat.
I didn't like the broken air conditioners.
I didn't like the threat of tropical storms and hurricanes.
I do like thunderstorms, but lightning and tall metal poles sticking out of the top of your home just don't mix.
So being back in SoCal where we rarely get thunderheads, rarely hear the boom of the nearby thunder and rarely see the brilliant shock of white lightning, I did enjoy a few days of this.
Mainly because I knew it wasn't going to blow 97 knots or we would have lightning striking withing spitting distance.
Being a wimp safe is good.
So with a little imagination, with an afternoon cocktail and too many clothes on to make us hot squinted eyes to make the local recognizable horizon a blur, we were back in tropical weather.





All good except the view of the underside of that last cloud...