A Dream...

 I woke up about 5:30am after a dream. 

In this dream I was standing in the nurse's station of a hospital where I used to work. I was there as a physical therapist assistant to treat the patients in deficits of strength, balance and mobility. Before beginning these tasks I needed to see the charts and check for new doctor orders, the diagnosis, any medical precautions, discharge planning and the physical therapy goals to continue any treatments other clinicians had begun. 

The nurse station was absolute chaos and I could not find a patient chart anywhere. I asked a nurse where they kept the charts and she seemed incredulous that I did not know. I told her, "well it has been 11 years since I worked here and I thought things might have changed." 

Before I worked in hospitals and then nursing homes and as a home health therapist I had a career working at a paper mill. It's been 18 years since I last did that kind of work and I occasionally have a dream where I'm wrapping rolls of paper. About six months ago I told an old co worker I still dreamed about the mill. He said, "you too?" 

So once I was good and awake and thinking about these dreams I wonder is this some kind of anxiety dream? Some kind of striving to improve or something not found or attained? These thoughts led me to examine Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs which I have not thought too much about since Psy 101 and all those boxes seem to be checked off  

Maybe there is a patient progress note floating around out there that I have not signed. Since I'm retired and technically not even a physical therapist assistant anymore because I let my license expire good luck getting me to do that. 

         

The Summer is Ending I think Fishing Report...

This is not the only fishing trip for the month of August but it is the first catfishing trip to Big Sam Rayburn Reservoir. We were greeted at the boat ramp by a meeting of what Nacogdoches comedian Bob Murphy called "the East Texas Hygiene Committee." At least best I remember I think it was Murphy who said that.     

Looks like the committee was cleaning up the remains of a dead carp. There is a lot of dirty jobs in the world and while I have done what I though was a couple of them I have not done this one and I'm glad there are volunteers. 

The fish were not just jumping in the boat but Cathy, brother Matt and myself managed 14 cats most just barely good fillet size with Cathy taking big fish honors on this blue cat. We had invited a few folks out but my brother Glenn was the only one to take us up on the offer and it's a good thing as we if maybe two more people had shown up we would have had to head to the grocer store for more fish caught on a silver hook. 

Fish were deep, the weather was a bit unsettled with wind switching directions several times, a rain shower and distant thunder. There was a definitive end of summer feel to the fishing trip.   

Really I'm not sure it's ever the end of summer for retired people eve though the span of what is seasonally consider summer has passed fast than we thought it would. We have a camp site reserved at Hanks Creek coming up for our shake down cruise of the Rpod and I put Cathy ashore to check our sites. These camp sites were flooded in spring of 2021 had have been closed since then. Construction is underway to repair them and looks like they will be ready in a couple of weeks. 

Note the rip rap in the photo. It's to break the waves when the lake is at normal pool level so you can see how low things are.   

Those cats fried up nice and crisp and are now swimming in our bellies. One of the New Orleans Instagram poop posters I follow has a running joke about mustard on crawfish a marinate of plain old yellow mustard and then a coating of Zatarain's has been a crowd pleaser lately around here. 

Mustard on fish = good.

Mustard on crawfish= don't go there. 

Probably next fish fry photo will be lakeside. 

 

Fishing the Marsh at Galveston Island State Park...

I have owned the canoe about 5 years or so now. It was one of those bucket list things to have before I got too old and my strength decreased so much I was not able to load and unload the thing. I know that kayaks are more popular for this type of fishing but although I was alone for a couple of trips last week into the bay side of Galveston State Park I like the canoe because it can hold two or three people. I have seen early American paintings depicting a canoe full of indigenous peoples coming down the river to meet the white man which probably was the beginning of trouble but the kayak falls in the the category of one of those popular to do by yourself things of modern life that separates us from each other.

Galveston State Park was a good place to cross off another bucket list thing paddling and fishing the Texas marsh. Entrance to the park was free with the purchase of my annual Texas Parks Pass and it would have been free for any other savages I might have had with me.       

This is the path to the Dana Cove paddling trail. It's not too far to the water but it was handy to have the canoe dolly to reach the launch. All trails seem to be well marked with big pvc looking white pipes sticking up from the water.  

While there are big open water bay areas I like discovering the narrow paths through the grass. Unfortunately my fishing report is poor. I tried every lure, the fish bites power baits and was able to net a bucket of frisky finger mullet and there was a world of bait swimming in these back waters but other than some kind of bait stealers pulling at my popping cork rig I caught nothing. Coastal fishing is so governed by wind direction and tide that on the couple of trips a year I'm lucky to make I don't quite always hit the bite.   

Lots of birds to see in the marsh. If you zoom this photo you see a large V of the brown pelicans passing over. In the 60s DDT use nearly wiped them out on the Texas coast and Cathy recalls few if any sightings during her childhood of coastal fishing. In 1972 the environmental protection agency banned DDT use and although still listed as endangered in Texas nationwide populations have rebounded by the mid 80s. A success story of scientist at work. A good que that we should take other science and act on it also.    

Speaking of the solitary things of modern life I did watch a couple of Youtube videos of kayak fishing in the state park. I noticed this bird observation platform in the background and said if I can find that I'll line it up and fish. This tactic did not pay off but I recall my old friend Joe who was in medical school in Galveston a few decades ago taking me to similar areas where the tide ran around little grassy islands and we caught croaker and sand trout so I attempted that also but those tactics did not work either.  

Maybe I'll put painting on the bucket list because this could be a typical Texas coastal landscape scene. The marsh, a gas flare burning off in the distance and the homes of the bay side of the Jamaica Beach Community. 

It was surreal to watch the movement cars and humans way over in the flat distance on the roads of the community but have the dead quiet of the marsh in your ears.  

I can't recall where those spots me and Joe fished were but I bet they are built over by bay homes and the marsh channels are boat canals. 

With all this mankind going on it is amazing the birds and fish are here and I can only imagine what it was for the first human eyes that feasted on the sights of the bay nature had to offer. I see houses in Galveston built on beach and bay areas that in my lifetime I reasoned to be unsuitable because of wind weather and waves. Oil and gas probably only has a few more decades to go and while it won't be used up it will be like the home sites, unsuitable and better left in the ground. The fish and birds will then have free reign again.

As you see the marsh is all a short grass which I forget the name of but the more you pick out a spot and watch it the more birds you see.   

I just knew this cut from the marsh to the open bay would hold some fish but no such luck and after I passed here a wade fisherman walked down this bank fishing the area which is at the Oak Bayou launch. Later we compared notes in the parking lot and he said he had expected flounder and redfish to be active. 

I guess I did as good as everyone else in my first marsh fishing trip. I'll have to put catching a fish here on my bucket list.  

 

Secret Flounder Fishing Spot Revealed Texas History and Always More...

Old Colonel Travis cut a dashing figure at the Battle of the Alamo. The legend of the line in the sand is certainty inspiring but the reality of his presence in Texas is that he was avoiding his debts elsewhere and when he stuck his head up over the battlements that day in San Antone and when he had it blown off pretty early in the battle he accomplished that. Same thing would probably happen to me but it was enough for Travis to have this fort on the tip of Bolivar Peninsula named after him. It's now a Galveston County Park. Entry is free and we took the self guided walking tour and Cathy showed me the equally legendary Cooney family flounder fishing hole that Bill snuck all the kids into in the 1970s before the park was developed and the property was off limits to trespassers which I guess kind of makes them like Travis, intent on avoiding trouble.       

The area had fortifications as early as 1816 but this spot saw building began in earnest in the first years of The Republic of Texas to protect Galveston Bay from invasion. Slave labor was used to erect the big dirt battlements and construction continued in one way or the other till WW2 when about 2500 troops were stationed here.   

There are good stations with historical facts located on the paths through the park. Cathy stands on one of the biggest gun emplacements and as far as I could tell there was never a shot fired in anger from this Fort. It seemed from the information available that every time a new gun was installed there was always some development in the enemy tactics or their own countermeasures such as aircraft and radar that made the gun obsolete and because of this some emplacements never even had guns installed. This brings to mind Ike's farewell address where he warned us about the military industrial complex. Nothing was really defended but people made money building.      

Even though the fort was sold as military surplus in 1949 chemical warfare is still a concern. 

Cathy heads to the smaller batteries that guard the narrow part of the pass. 

Cathy says these were open in the 70s and she went inside. 

Cathy located the secret flounder hole right here. In the 1970s the park was not developed and Bill would take Cathy and her younger brothers, Jim, John and Matt over a fence, along a jungle type path (it's all open, clear park space now) down the 15' seawall and fish for flounder from the rip rap breaking the waves. Cathy recalls the little boys hanging up a lot and requiring her deckhand skills but the water stretches out shallow for a long way making it great for the big flatfish.    

I saw no one fishing here on the rainy weekday morning we visited. We decided the climb down the seawall and over the rocks was probably easier when you are 16 instead of in your 60s and admired Bill for doing it with little kids as crew. 

Cathy says her brothers are going to kill me for reveling this spot but I don't thing they have visited it lately.    

Like the fort it's self all the gun emplacements are named for men killed in the Mexican War or WW1. Even with the sneaking in, the advancing over treacherous terrain and the uneven footing of the rocks no one was ever lost during a flounder trip and with it's development the park is a great tour and I bet the flounder are still there. 

  

 

We Will Be Hitting the Road...

I always forget August 10th. That's the day I bought my house. It's the only house I have ever bought and that was back in 1983 so we have been hear in one form or another 39 years. I guess we kind of celebrated that by buying a different kind of house, a little teardrop travel trailer on wheels this past weekend on August 13th. Maybe that will help me remember these anniversaries better in the future.   

We had arrived home from Master Cullen and sister Parker's birthday party to a message from our daughter Mary alerting us to a used travel trailer about 45 minutes away from us in Woodville, Tx. We have discussed things like this, how we would use it, what kind where we would go but never arrived at a definitive answer at a price point that a couple of cheapskate hippies could justify. This rig look like it might fit our bill.  

So we headed to Woodville, spent a couple of hours checking it out, the sellers came off the price a bit without undo haggling and thanks to the ease of a Venmo exchange we took it home. Nothing like an impulse buy to make your mind up about all those nagging questions you have been putting off the answer to.  

The brand is Rpod which even though described as an entry level camper it's apparently a lifestyle choice. Looks like owners have a lot of customs like naming your Rpod, making cinnamon rolls on your first trip and there seems to be a huge online social media community that will answer any questions you may have (in minutes) and wants to share vacation info. This one is a gently used 2010 unit and it has all the manuals, maintenance records and other such info that you might need in a handy little folder. 

There are a few issues and parts to replace mostly in the department of making sure it's roadworthy for avoiding any mechanical issues on long trips. In my communications with other owners it's pretty common for people to own these models and have them be 10 or 15 years old. People like these campers because it's a light towing weight and easy set up for old folks. It also encourages a sort of minimalism since it's small and at this point we certainly do not need more stuff. That fits our bill exactly because if anymore pickups are purchased they will be a downsize model and we aint exactly getting any younger.  

It does have a nice little outside cabana that attaches to the trailer to increase sheltered space and we managed to set it up the first time without any cussing.     

Here are a few inside shots. It does have a side out for the kitchen area. It looks a bit tossed as we address projects and it is small but from the looks of things such as no TV it encourages you to be out doing things rather than sitting around in here.  It has a microwave, gas stovetop, a toaster oven and one of those fancy one cup at a time coffee makers. 

There's a small shower (not that hippies take a lot of showers) and a potty. Seems from online information lots of folks just use campground showers which from the most recent state parks I've been in are nice facilities and I feel the same way if they are available. 

The bunk beds, better known as grandkid sleepers. The big ones hop right in that top bunk and the little ones throw a right rusty fit till someone gives them a boost up there also.

There's a shake down cruise in a few weeks with us, Mary and Miguel's VW camper van and my mother in law Geneva who downsized from a fifth wheel to a truck bed camper.  

For now who has a water hose and a big orange extension cord that reaches to their driveway? Asking for a friend. 

 

Beach Vacation...

Just call us the tag a longs. We managed to hitch our wagon to a Galveston vacation Katherine, Peter, Wallace and Hamish had planned back in the depths of Covid when nothing like this was happening. They made their reservation in advance and were joined at the rental by an old family friend who grew up on our little road, Jackie, her husband Skyler and kids Hattie and Sebastian. While they filled up a big beach house we stayed at a smaller Airbnb nearby. 

As you can see from this photo that while it's not his first Texas beach trip Wallace has not left his beach skills on the practice field. .    

Here's our rental. Beach vacations have been a constant for our family. With Cathy growing up in Houston there were lots of beach and fishing trips in her formative years and my family always seemed to manage to acquire fabulous sunburns in the days before SPF 50 during regular trips to the Galveston Seawall.   

So for years we rented a big beach house with room for everyone but this time a little two bed room one bath house that probably has been resisting hurricanes since the late 50s or early 60s judging from look at the house bones was just right for only grandma and pop pop.  

Here you see Cathy looking out over the Gulf like a first world Cabeza de Vaca from the porch of our richer family's big rig beach house. Thanks for having us over.  

Peter is from Canada. Texas was kind to him I think this trip and I don't believe he even burned or had a heat stroke. Those half Canadian/half Chicago grandchildren will always have sporty hats when visiting the Lone Star State. 

Cathy and Wallace share their love for long peaceful beach floats through a calm clear surf. If you zoom this photo their is something in the water behind them and you guess is good as mine.

Water conditions were great with a few wavy days, some calm days, some very clear water with a north wind which lets the sandy surf to settle and enabled us to see our feet on the bottom while standing shoulder deep.   

No one will confuse pale skin Hambone with the legendary Gulf coast Indian tribe the Karankaws. The Karankaws were long painted as crude cannibals by history simply because they did not come over to European ways of thinking and living. They were smarter than they looked and old Hamish is pretty smart to keep that hat on on his fair skinned head to prevent that Texas sunburn.    

I'll get some blog posts with the fishing report, bird photos and more as I get around to it. 

 

When the First World Gets Too Much Take a Nap...

They say that in the USA alone over the past few years there has been over a million people die from Covid. You and I both know some of them. May the Eternal Light shine on them. I have Covid right now and thanks to science, doctors, nurses, vaccines, medicines, the government and many others it's pretty mild. A first world problem and inconvenience that mostly makes me want to take a nap. I like to take a nap. 

Given a bad case of the FOMO I'll skip that nap but I guess years of late nights playing music, shift work at the mill and early morning rises to drive all over East Texas to treat rural nursing home patients has left me the ability to sleep pretty much when or where I want to. Probably one thing you should know is that if I'm sleeping and you are not you might not because I snore loudly.

 I don't recall what the event was but 40 years or so ago I went somewhere with a group of folks, some married to each other, some brothers and sisters, some unattached and one girl's mom. Now that I think back that mom was probably 20 years younger than I am now. We gathered around a campfire, there was some beer drinking and at the end of the evening there was something like an old military barracks or summer camp bunk house with the kind of beds you might expect in a facility like that and we all claimed one and went to sleep and I slept well. 

Next morning several people mentioned how loud I snored. Maybe those unattached women were kind of sizing me up to decide if I was a keeper or not. I guess I got thrown back maybe because of the snoring but the mom did tell them, "ladies, at least you will know he's in the house at night." Sounds like the voice of experience. 

When me and Cathy were first married we slept intertwined and very close. We were young, in love, skinny and once when an overnight guest peeked in our room to see if we were up he thought one of us was out and about because the huddle under the covers seemed so small as to be one person. Now we look like two big skint mules each on our side of the bed. If you don't know how big a skint mule is you have never skint one. 

We are still in love, skinny enough but Cathy does not want that snoring in the ear anymore. You know how it is. After time everyone needs all the sleep you can get because of the job, the kids, the money and so on so nobody wants to be wakened to start worrying about all that stuff and a poor night of sleep just means another nap.

And nap I will. If the grandkids nap. I nap. On Sunday afternoon I might nap. Basically if I have nothing to do I will nap and with this mild case of covid I feel a bit achy, have decreased activity tolerance and a nap is about the best remedy available. For my physical therapy peeps in case you are worried about the old man staying in bed too much and blood clots and stuff like that I am doing my ankle pumps so when recovered I'll be in fine shape.  

So I'm back here in the back bedroom quarantine suite. It was effective a few months ago when Cathy staked it out and I never got Covid from her. It's quiet, cool and has a bathroom. I can sprawl out taking up all the room in the bed like she says I do anyway and if I nap for two hours then sit on the side of the bed for 5 minutes and then nap two more hours no one is the wiser and it does feel good at this point though I think I'm in for a boring week. 

I doubt anyone can hear me snoring but I'm not sure about that.