Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Cheap Fuel

Writing is a difficult task for me. I struggled with each literature, grammar or english class from elementary through college. I find it fascinating how people effortlessly sail through school while others (myself) struggle to make it. The truth is that I was never good at writing and my years at Walla Walla College proved that. I retook English 101 and passed Research Writing after my 4th attempt. It's rather embarrassing and I'm not proud of it. As a matter of fact, just last week I had the recurring dream where I am back in school and having the worst time finishing my research paper before the quarter ends. My heart beat increases and I tense up while laying in bed. It's fairly evident that I had miserable time in College which is why it intrigues me that I make an effort to write on this blog. So why do I write? The truth is that I don't have much record of my family history and just as I make an effort to link all the pieces together of my history, perhaps someone down the road will want to know about me. Maybe a grand kid or a great grand kid. If so... "Hello future generation, How are you doing?"

Three weekends ago we made an afternoon trip to Wallowa Lake since gas prices were so low and we have had a warm winter. We had no intentions on making the excursion in the morning yet after realizing that staying home during a warm winter day is dull and boring, we decided to fire up the Chief and hit the road. We arrived at Wallowa Lake at 3:30 and immediately began throwing rock and sticks at the lake while pretending we were mad at it. Since Ben has no concept that water is wet, we had to detained him from jumping into the lake with his clothes on. It's always nice to visit Wallowa Lake especially in the winter when it's desolate and free from tourist. Anyhow, after relaxing from beating the water with sticks and stones we headed into town to grab some ice cream from our favorite soda shop except that the business had been sold and a bistro restaurant has replaced it. The new owners were nice and made us a veggie sandwich yet despite their delightful service there is something about ice cream that can't be replaced, just ask any ice cream aficionado. We proceeded to the liquor store to obtain ice cream, Traci got a cookie sandwich and I got an ice cream sandwich. Since there is no place to sit inside a liquor store, we went outside and found ourselves a bench to enjoy our chilly treats with a chilly evening.

The round trip cost us a mere $15 and that's driving the Chief which gets about 11 mpg. :) As we drove back home, Ben sneezed a couple of times and exclaimed, "Oops! Sorry Daddy." Of course, there is no apology needed so I replied, "That's OK Benny, I love you." Somehow he seemed to enjoy my response and continued repeating, "Oops! Sorry Daddy." as I followed with my response. A few repetitions later, he began to say, "I love you." after my response. This continued for 15 or 20 minutes and although it's not the first time he said the phrase, it's moments like these that I realize how blessed I am. A beautiful wife, a wonderful kid, a Cherokee Chief and a stomach full of ice cream.