Werewolves Versus Vampires, New Car Smell, and Wookies

 

This week has been a mixed bag of emotions. On Wednesday evening, Terry returned from work and headed straight out to light up a cigar. From there, his tornado explosion hit, and our lives changed within a matter of a couple of hours. It's not like he discovered the meaning of life or anything, but for us it was a huge change. 

It was Wednesday, the most exciting day of the week. This is the day that we make the routine jaunt out to the street to see if our garbage service has picked things up. For three weeks our recycling had not been taken by the one and only company in town. They were grabbing our garbage can and emptying that, but I guess the recycling is kryptonite to Roseburg Disposal. 

Being new to the area, I thought some stuff might be wrong. I had placed some other stuff, such as crushed cereal boxes to the blue bin. Apparently, I had sinned. There was a note left on the blue bin by the recycling truck driver, asking me to remove everything except for the corrugated cardboard. Now, call me ridiculous, but I thought recycling covered things like smashed down milk jugs, emptied and flattened cereal boxes and the like. Not in Roseburg obviously. Cardboard boxes it is. Ah, but not cereal boxes that are cardboard. Not graham cracker boxes either and for garbage's sake, do not put any kind of milk jugs (lids removed), or cans in the bin! You're have committed the cardinal sin if that's the case. Remove them all or you will not have service!

The second week I provided corrugated cardboard within the blue bin, but this time I sat down and spent hours tearing each box apart at the seams to give them a four foot by four-foot measure. Why? Well, to fit into the slots on the side of their trucks of course! I looked out of my window up until 4:00 that afternoon. The cardboard pieces still sat in the bin. Picking up the phone, I politely asked the woman on the other end why my recycling had not been taken that day. She began an attempt to question me, to find something I was again at fault in to prevent them from picking it up. There were no notes left. Nothing. The truck driver had not spoken to anyone in the office, explaining why the recycling was not taken. But alas, the woman ended the call with, "I'll have him come by again tomorrow. Nobody can return today." 

So, the following day, the recyclable pieces of cardboard haunted me from the bin. I picked up my phone one more time and dialed the number for the garbage service. I told myself I may need to put the phone number for garbage on my speed dial. Apparently, I'm going to be rather chatty with these people until we get this right. I received another apology, but this time from what sounded like an older woman. She was very apologetic and helpful. She sent the truck driver a text while we talked and then left him a note. She apologized profusely and told me to call again should he bypass the home. I went to bed feeling better. 

The following morning, lo and behold, the recycling bin had finally been emptied! I felt like celebrating. Terry was very happy to see it gone as well when he returned home. One more issue off our list to take care of. Next up was emptying more boxes, finding places for the stuff, and then break down the boxes so the recycling truck can finish off the process of getting rid of all the corrugated cardboard we will have after moving. Since the cardboard boxes are the only thing the Roseburg recycling company takes, we probably do not have to worry about whether or not they pick things up in the future. I feel very guilty about throwing away so many other items though. 

Onward we plunged through the day. With Terry home, it was time I finished up work so I could go to the store and figure out what we were having for dinner. I enjoy going to the store to at least look around for a while. This gets me up and walking, which is a perfect choice for a diabetic. It dawned on me that I had made a huge pot of homemade chili a couple of nights before and had taken it out of the freezer that morning. Dinner would be quick and easy. I finished the file and took a break to sit with Terry outside while he smoked his cigar. 

I sat down at the patio table and Terry pushed his tablet my way. With a bit of excitement in his voice, he said, "What do you think of this car, babe?" I glanced at the cars displayed on the tablet. They were beautiful, for sure. My granddaughter, Jess, and her husband Brandon had driven down to see us on Memorial Day and show us their new vehicle. They purchased a 2023 KIA Sorento. We loved the car. Well, Terry apparently really loved the car, as he was showing me KIAs on the tablet. 

I told him I thought they were nice. What was I supposed to say? I did think they were awesome, but never in a million years did I think we would be rushing out to pick one up. Well, a few minutes later, Terry ran into the house and said, "Get ready babe. We have to go." I was shocked to hear the panicked tone in his voice, but it got me rushing around. I asked where we had to be and he replied, "Eugene."

Now Eugene is a little over an hour away, depending on traffic. We were talking about selling the Miata, a car both of us loved, but tonight we jumped into it and headed for Eugene. 

The Miata is fun to drive and ride in. We have taken sporadic trips to the coast with the top down or driven it to Eugene once. There is always something fun to do in a little sports car like the Miata. We hated to sell it, but we were going to pick up a second car for us. My car was turning over 200,000 miles and even while it drives great still, the little Neon is just difficult to trust 100%. Especially if I ever choose to drive it to Eugene by myself. 

Once we got to Eugene, we headed straight for the KIA dealership. My sweet man was definitely on a mission! After a couple of hours of filling out paperwork, chatting with a couple of people, and saying goodbye to our good friend the Miata, we drove back home in our brand new 2023 KIA Sportage. 

Terry drove the vehicle home and fell in love. I figure since I'm having an affair with the new washer dryer set, he can have one with the new car. That night I suggested he drive it to work the following morning to enjoy it. He replied, "No, babe. It's for you to drive." I fought back with, "You deserve to enjoy the car." I haven't driven it yet. Now, this does not upset me. I am joking about it but do intend on driving the new car at some point. I'm in the Xterra, and that's just perfect for me. 

I have to say I do love that new car smell! Even though we all know it's chemical based products that are used to build a car, I still love that smell. No carpet smells of spilled soda; crunched up food that has been dropped, or seats that smell like dog. It's a beautiful thing. A beautiful, beautiful thing. 

Thursday morning, I climbed out of bed. I had not been able to sleep for some reason. This seems to happen to me quite often, so I am used to it. Basically, it was a normal day. I walked the dog, washed dishes and put them away, wiped down the floors and countertops and then I headed into the bathroom. I wiped the sink, toilet, and tub down and mopped the floor. That's when I began to receive the horrible news. 

My daughter, Marina, and her husband John were put on a level 2 evacuation order. They live right outside a town called Lowell. A brush fire was hit by strong winds and grew out of control within a matter of minutes. The fire was rushing directly toward Wolf Tree Ranch, my daughter's property. My stepdaughter and her husband also built a home at the top of the hill, along with one other neighbor who lives at the very top. Suddenly there were firetrucks galore, followed by two or three helicopters grabbing water from the nearby lake and dumping it onto the fire. 

She was reporting to the family at the same time she rushed out to grab her chickens and put them into a kennel. Then came the catching of the cat and the two dogs. John grabbed documents from the safe and they were ready for go time. Marina was sending me photos and videos while reporting on how things were going. She was terrified and I didn't blame her in the least. The fire was very close to her home and the house is only about one year old. Same with my stepdaughter's home. If I were them, I would have been in hysterics. 

Flames were shooting above the outer rim of the mountain, leaving a wake of fear and uncertainty not only for my daughter and son-in-law, but for my stepdaughter and her husband and the other families who owned farms.  Everyone pitched in and helped gather animals when needed. My daughter had a friend who could take the chickens in a heartbeat should the need arise. 

John started the sprinklers along the outer perimeter of the house. He was ready to climb the roof and start wetting down that area as well if the flames blazed a path closer to the home. My family was receiving the news as it was happening. I'm not sure if that was a good or a bad thing. It made me sick knowing it was putting my family in fear and yet there was nothing I could do from an hour and twenty minutes away. I knew my daughter was distraught and I hate that I can't make my kids feel better when in turmoil. I offered help but she replied that they were ready to go, so nothing was left to do. 

As time progressed, she was reporting the fire getting closer. A few hours into the day, the wind began to change course, making the fire slow in proximity to her home. But now the little farm at the bottom of the hill became a target. The owner began to load his animals while waiting on word to leave his vulnerable property. 

The number of firemen grew. They worked on the flames until the evening, when it was announced that everyone was now placed on level one on the evacuation scale. This meant they could sleep through the night in their own homes, but everyone needed to remain ready to roll should the variables change again. Without much sleep, Marina and John did remain in the home overnight while firefighters worked diligently to conquer the fire. 

The morning hours proved to be safer at the top of the hill. Everyone could take a deep breath and know their property had been saved. But not too deep of a breath, as the entire place smelled like smoke. The thick, heavy smoke permeated the houses, the people, and even the dogs smelled like smoke. As of Sunday, June 4, the smoke lingered. The fire is still burning but is under control. Properties have been placed under a "no fire" order, which is a big "duh" to me. This means we will not be having a s'mores bar around a campfire at the wedding. That's fine with me, just as long as everyone is safe, secure, and their fur babies are doing well too. Thank you, firemen and helicopter pilots for doing an amazing job! 

On Friday I was searching Facebook when I came across this t-shirt ad. I couldn't help but show Terry. He loved it so we did order it. His trophy shirt should be here today (Sunday) and I can't wait to see it! After ordering the shirt, I began looking at some of the husband-and-wife shirts online. We are going to be ordering a pair of the his and her shirts as well, to wear on our honeymoon. 

Our day got a bit better. The afternoon meant we had an appointment, so to speak, with the courthouse. It was time to get our marriage license. And so the fun begins! After showing ID and paying the clerk, she handed us our application. We both filled it out, crossed the "T's" and dotted the "I's" and it was complete. With a hardy, "Congratulations," she sent us off with our application packet in hand. The only thing left is to actually go through the ceremony and that's in two weeks. 

As time draws near, I'm getting more and more excited. I cannot wait to become a wife again. I was married once, years ago, and now it's happening again. I had been asked by a couple of exes but turned the offer down each time. I look back on those decisions and realize I am glad I didn't get married again, because Terry is the "one" I should be with. We are in sync, and I love "us." I can't wait to become Mrs. Macrae. Each day our lives are filled with love, laughter, and our happy home. I am quite proud of what we have made between us and around us. Our fur babies, our families, and our love for each other makes life a very happy thing. 

My grand-dog, Franklin, thinking he is quite cool. Now a teen in doggie years, he has a bit of an attitude, as does the typical human teen. Franklin is a St. Berdoodle, meaning a mix between the standard poodle and a St. Bernard. The combination makes a very sweet, loving, beautiful animal but one that can be stubborn too. 

A few weeks back, Marina had to chop his coat to remove a bunch of burrs. Franklin had developed a case of kennel cough, a common illness that is highly contagious. He goes to doggy daycare sometimes and picked it up from there. Because of this, when the dog got into burrs, he couldn't go in to get them removed due to the kennel cough. This meant mom had to take over. She took him in later to get him "cleaned up" and this is the hair cut he received. I think he looks very handsome, with a touch of comical teen look thrown in. I do know that I love him dearly. 

Mallory, Terry, and I were talking about movies at one point in the week. They were all excited about the movie Twilight, and all of the sequels. Now, I'm not one to watch vampire and werewolf films, so the topic was not all that exciting to me. But because I do love them both, I take their interests in as well as sharing mine. The next thing I knew, the conversation ended with the idea of having a film-a-thon on Saturday. We were going to watch the first three this weekend, and the last two movies in the franchise next weekend. So, here we are. 

Like I said, the thought of this film showing on a big screen TV with me in the room was quite the shocker. Anyone who knows me understands that vampires and werewolves are not my idea of a good movie. However, it was something I was willing to try. Let's see how this goes. My vision of how it would go would be me sitting with a pillow over my eyes throughout 90% of the movie. I would have my eyes open for the credits and intro. 

Having a day of watching any movie means one thing ... Lots of munchies! Walking the aisles of the store to get dinner items, I stopped in my tracks in front of the adorable chip clips I saw. I am a Star Wars fan and here I am, in front of several adorable chip clips that host the Star Wars theme. I shot a picture of them to Terry and purchased them. I had to. It was a moral imperative. After all, spending money seemed to be the theme of the week. Almost $40,000 for a car? Sure, bring it on. These were only five bucks after all, right? I can justify $5, can't I? Okay, so I wasted five bucks. Yes, I feel guilty. At least now I had a place I could cry, in the new car. I'm taking my chip clips and going home. 

Saturday rolled around and I found myself cleaning house, baking cookies and placing chips and dips in bowls. The movie marathon was about to begin. Terry was excited, knowing he had finally found a movie I had never seen. Each time he has asked if I have seen a film, I have. I hear the "sigh," and we move on to another selection. I used to write movie reviews for a site and was always watching films. Any year, any genre. If I could watch it somewhere, somehow, I would write a review on it. That's how I rolled back then. 

Now it is more of a relaxation process. I do enjoy good movies. But this was different. I was about to sit down and watch a series of films that I knew were not something I would typically watch. I felt a bit of anxiety come up, as I didn't want to offend either of my loved ones, but I have a very difficult time watching violent or gross portions of films. 

Mallory arrived. All the chips, dips, veggie trays and cookies were placed on TV trays within easy reach. We all had drinks in hand. We were ready to begin our journey through the land of vampires and werewolves. I had pillows at the ready. Hold my remote. I've got this. 

Throughout the films, I actually became enthralled in the odd love story. My interest grew as the first film ended. I wanted to see more. The second movie started, and I found it just as good. But then came the fighting between werewolves, vampires, and the people of the town. It was getting too intense involving the more violent sections, but it was still a good experience. The third film, the pillows had a bit of a workout. That was a bit too much for me. 

The first movie, where Bella has her leg broken by the vampire, I almost left the room. I cannot handle gross images like that. The imagery, the sound effects of crushing bones is simply not my thing. It sends a jolt of pain through every cell in my body. It actually pains me to hear or see things like that. But we finished the first three of the franchise and we will continue on with the following two films next Saturday. I am happy I watched them and yet am worried about the next two. Wish me luck!