|Always looking for that great tree to climb and they found one.|
The girls made "the humble nation of dribble" castles at the beach.
|While the girls enjoyed playing at the beach, Monica thoroughly enjoyed scrubbing the boat and getting rid of the green grime we carried from Sandy Point.|
Bus ride into town for a grocery run. For a 20 min ride, we spent 1 hr getting to Safeway. There we found a recycled can and glass compartment. It’s Anna’s great fascination with making money with no-investment: take Washington bought canned goods and recycle it for 5 cents a can in Oregon. I believe there was fairly popular episode of Seinfeld where Kramer went all over NY with cans from a different state that doesn’t charge for can deposits. You guys know which episode I am talking about. My Anna may become future Kramer! Ahhhhh! Real successfully funny shows become popular and are so amusing to us because we all identify closely to these ridiculous characters. Dilbert is another good example of how some really smart people have made comedies out of our miseries in cubical based corporate world in the case of Dilbert and weird deep desires we all have but are too ashamed to admit, comically Kramer has no shame.
Though the bus ride was a lot longer than needed to be and louder than desired, we took the opportunity to observe the town of Coos Bay and its bus riders. We noticed that everyone was very helpful and went out of their way to accommodate each other. Coos Bay was a small town inhabited with really nice people.
|Fog rolls into the bay as we return to the boat from shopping.|
|As we approached the marina we noticed a group of photographers taking pictures of the marina in the fog. Did I get this right, teacher?|
As Saturday approached I started to get nervous about whether we’d be able to make it to mass. That morning, I reserved a cab ride for the vigil mass at 5PM on Saturday. The weather turned really blowing it’s forecasted 25 to 35 knot winds with rain. This kind of weather was not my idea of sightseeing around town and going to mass. So, I changed my cab reservation to Sunday Mass. Sunday morning I had a weird feeling that I needed to be extra vigilant that they haven’t forgotten about us. Well, when I called that about 45 mins before pick up time, the dispatcher didn’t have my reservation. They said their computers are down but they now have the info to pick us up at 9:45 for a 10:15 arrival at St.Monica’s Catholic Church. Yes, the church happened to be named after my saint. We all rushed out of the boat to line up at the Marina Office by 9:45AM. No Taxi. To keep this long story short, let’s just say that the taxi arrived 10:15AM! This is when I wanted to arrive at church. It’s always better late than never so we gratefully climbed in the taxi and attended mass late. Never before had I felt such gratefulness and great longing to attend mass. As I was waiting for a taxi that didn’t show a sign of picking us up, I had a little tantrum within myself towards God. Why would God not want me to go to mass? When I am trying so hard and go out of my way to attend mass, why would God make it difficult for us to attend mass? None of this made sense. By the way I don't believe in bad luck or coincidences. There is always a reason and purpose for the good and the bad that happens in our lives. After mass and after having a nice greasy lunch at a local diner, I realized why God created that wrinkle on Sunday morning. My understanding is that he wanted me to know what it felt to really desire God. It was a blessed day with a beautiful mass that I immensely enjoyed. This all may sound a little nuts and overly dramatic but attending mass has almost become a mission impossible on this trip. Not knowing which port we are going to be or if we are going to have transportation to get to the nearest church, we have to trust in God to lead us. I am going to take it as a blessing.
|This sand bar was a 1/2 hour walk from where we tied up at the dock, but could not be ignored since it was in the girl's direct line of sight. Most notable feature was the squeaky sound the sand made when you walked on it.|