How we spent the summer

It feels weird to post a regular blog after a whole summer of Baja Tuesday's, but, while less funny, this will let everyone in on what the Kendall's have been doing with their 100 degree weather out here in the gorge.
enjoy:)

We did a lot of this....

An embarrassing amount of this....


Put in some time at Relay For Life
Specifically on the GIANT
slip N' slide






A LOT of work went into the electrical system of our house...


And into replacing the water heater that went out in the middle of the electrical project.
(That's my brother, Jimmie ;)


We did take some time off to enjoy the fair in Hood River...


I had braces put on in July... smiling hurt for awhile...

The carousel was the girls favorite ride.

Noah spent some time in solitary...that's the box from the water heater

He liked it....really.


We did a lot of picnicking...


And enjoyed some hiking...


This is Sahalie falls...






The kid's took golf lessons all summer...



...And were rewarded with trophies at the end.



Summer also won a set of golf clubs as a reward for Most Improved Player.

Hope you all had a wonderful summer!

Baja Tuesday's...A Journey Through Hilarity

The Long Road Home...or...Burning Up On Re-Entry

Ah, yes. That last day.

We met up with Dave and Eileen at breakfast on our last full day in Cabo and learned that Dave had been talking with Violet all morning and reporting about the 'romantic' cruise she'd sent us on for their anniversary. He had something planned, he told us. And Ryan and I were NOT invited. Well. So, fine then.
Whatever it was it would certainly not be as awesome as our own BIG plans for the day which included some pretty amazing....yeah, nothing. Nothing at all. We thought about snorkeling, but didn't want to sprint to the other side of the marina to catch the boat that left in an hour. We thought about another sunset cruise on Pepe's boat, but thought that might be overkill. In the end we decided to spend the entire day laying by the pool and drinking Pina Coladas, something, if you'll remember, I had been dreaming about since this trip started but had been too busy to do.
So we laid around, enjoyed the sun, baked a little, put our feet in the pool... and within mere moments, were OUT OF OUR MINDS WITH BOREDOM. We look at each other, take a deep inhalation of the relaxing vacation air, grab our towels and head for our room where dry clothes and a wad of cash await our arrival. We're outa there. Whatever Dave and Eileen are doing it's going to PALE in comparison to what we have to tell them tomorrow morning when we report the previous day's adventures!
We take our cash and hit the streets is search of trouble, two Americans on a mission, soaked now in this seedy southern social climate, we are prepared for ANYTHING!... In the real world, where we live most of the time, we were actually a couple of tourists looking to buy their kids maracas. But NO WAY were we getting hosed by these locals for a couple of shakers. No sir. We were on to 'em now.
"How much for these?" Ryan asked a man at the flea market.
"five dollar." The man replies.
"FIVE? For these??" is Ryan's question.
"Yeah. How much you pay?"
Ryan, seeing an opening, bids low.
"Two dollars."
The man looks up at us for the first time. "Two dollars?? No. Too low." He takes the maracas and walks away. We exchange a glance. Perhaps he does not realize that we are worldly American travelers who are onto him and his grimy capitalist ways.
Nevertheless, he is gone, and so are our maracas.
"What now?" I asked.
"Next booth." Instructs the skinflint.
The same delima occurs, this time with an irritated older lady. "Two dollars!? No!" And the maracas disappear again.
I keep thinking, For the love of all things Holy!, just pay the man/woman/overworked five year old the five pickin dollars!!! But no- because now he is a man on a quest and he's sure that someone somewhere will give him his maracas for two bucks. Have I mentioned yet that it is the hottest day of our trip so far? Yep- well over 90 and climbing. My feet, clad in fashionable Victoria's Secret flip flops are literally on fire and I am leaving a trail of turquoise colored flip flop material simmering behind me on the sidewalk. After about 15 minutes all that is left of my once cute sandals is the tiny strap between my toes. There are millions of zig zagging ocean blue footie prints all over Cabo San Lucas that remain to this day. Should you happen to visit the city, you can retrace the steps once taken by the two stupid tourists who made the first circuitous route through the low slung buildings in search of the Best Deal Possible on a pair of cheezy kid maracas. It's a regular pilgrimage now.
But anyway-
We storm into one shop after another, demanding that these people give us our maracas for our two pitiful dollars until FINALLY we come upon a relatively nice woman who offers them to us for three. Ryan struggles against the idea that he might have to compromise and finally agrees that my red, swollen feet are worth a one dollar concession on his part. Maracas in hand, we leave the sweltering flea market and point ourselves toward our hotel and refreshment.
We spent the rest of the day by the pool wishing time would just stop and leave us there, but eventually, the sun went down on our last evening in Cabo and we were forced to face reality, our trip was over. The next day, we had breakfast by the pool with Dave and Eileen, all of us looking completely exhausted, and then made the last 6 mile walk to our rooms to pack.
We met in the lobby at 9am.

The guys- not a great picture, but I was too tired to care


Eileen and I.

Reluctantly, we climb into the grayline shuttle that will take our now lazy, Mexico-lovin' selves back to the airport where we again wait for a plane. Dave does his thing and cracks a couple of jokes with the guy at the front of the ticket line and the guy returns the favor by making sure we're on the flight. This time, I'm not too happy that he's done that.
Our plane takes off and Cabo San Lucas becomes a strip of arid earth beneath us, the sea stretching forever. I watch the coastline out my window for as long as I can see it, which seems like a long time, until we make our descent back into Phoenix. It's lunchtime and we kill the two hour layover at a pub in the airport before making our way back to the gate where we are told we're NOT going to make the flight to Portland. Surprise, Surprise. None of us are talking, Dave, Eileen and Ryan because they're just too tired for words and myself because I am industriously planning a way to get myself back onto a Cabo bound plane.
I am busy hatching a plan involving three toothpicks and the one tampon I have left in my purse, all of which I will stealthfully employ in my mission to reboard Air Mexico, when the flight attendant informs us that they can get two of us on the flight after all. So now the question is: Do we want to split up?
Dave and Eileen encourage Ryan and I to take the flight, but we refuse. I'm not absolutely sure they'll get on the next flight if I'm not there to fuss about it and also- I have not completed plans for my escape and need more time to finish the identical 'Melissa look-alike' that I am constructing out of paperclips, playing cards and random things found in airport trash receptacles. Look-Alike Melissa will go with Dave and Eileen and my unsuspecting husband whilst I make my exit and head south of the border never to make gooey smiley faces in peanut butter and jelly sandwiches again!!! Bwah Ha Ha!!! This marvelous plan is disrupted by sanity eventually and we find a more realistic use for the playing cards...

We were able to make the delayed connection and found ourselves landing in Portland a short two hours after departure. It was 11 o'clock pm. Fourteen hours since we left the Tesoro Resort.
We step away from the gate into the long corridor of PDX and begin walking...

"Honey, keep walking. What are you stopping for?"
"I don't want to go home. I'm going to get back on the plane.."
"You can't get back on the plane. And even if you did, you'd still be in Portland."
"They might take me back."
"No they wouldn't"
"How do you know? I hate you." This is said with shoulders drooping, devastated resignation.
"You're right. You should get back on the plane. You never know. They might take you back."
Spurred now by his mockery, I retort, "Look, honey, a muffin counter! I think they might still be open!"
He has no response for this jagged riposte and I take the opportunity to turn on my heel and tackle the long corridor. Outside the windows of PDX, the city is dark, obscured by the sheets of rain that are dumping down from low hanging clouds. Selfless Brother Kyle will be waiting for us in the portico outside the main doors. The airport is quiet, abandoned almost, and the bustling atmosphere of Cabo seems very far away.
Ryan catches up to me, slings his arm around my shoulder.
"You know, I think it's a pretty good idea to take advantage of these company benefits on a more regular basis. We should plan another trip maybe. How do you feel about Jamaica??"
I look at him the same way I looked at that airport employee when we first landed in Cabo, skepticism and suspicion creeping around the edges of my expression. "Really?" One eyebrow raised.
"Why not? We can start planning for next year and see what we can do. Think about it and let me know where you want to go."
I smile because I know he means it. Kyle is waiting outside, just like we knew he would be. It's pouring, a cruel reminder from Mother nature that the week of fun has ended. Dave pops into the front seat of the minivan and I wonder if he has to force himself to speak English.
"Well, it looks like you're all tan!" Says Kyle from the front, which opens up the floodgates of story time and we tell him all the things we did that made us tan. I lay my head back against the seat and try not to fall asleep. Ryan is holding my hand and chanting the names of other exotic places that he promises to take me sometime in our lifetime. Just the promise is enough for now.
I make a mental note to buy muffin mix when we get home.
Cabo has been amazing, but it's time to look ahead- other adventures sit poised on the horizon, the golden eyes of sunsets yet unseen. I breathe. I preserve the wonder gained from a thousand experiences in 7 days. And finally, peace. There will be more.

*This has been the last post of Baja Tuesday's. Thanks to all who read and enjoyed the posts! Perhaps there will be Yucatan Wednesdays in our future ;0)*

Baja Tuesday's...A Journey Through Hilarity

'I Think We Might Be On The Wrong Boat...'

Obviously this was a photo op that could not be missed. We came across this little piece of irony as we were strolling the boardwalk on our way to dinner. Ah. FedEx. The World On Time..., apparently employing any and all means of transport to provide the world with L.L.Bean shirts and Harry and David Gift Baskets. We raised our hands in salute as we passed, thanking the company that offers such discounted travel to such impoverished souls as ourselves.
We were on our way to our boat, strolling in an unhurried fashion among the small fishing boats along the western docks. The middle of the marina and the north shore where our hotel was located, were reserved for yachts and other large ships that were actually sea worthy. I hoped as we walked that our cruise ship would be among them. I could see the scene now- sitting in the lap of an over-seventy total stranger while eating undercooked kabobs of unknown meat served semi warm in a tiny over-crowded dinghy like the one pictured above, the ocean spray splashing my face as the large woman next to me spews said kabobs in a bout of either sea sickness or food poisoning. My own stomach telling me it probably isn't sea sickness... In spite of all Mexico's charms and relaxed atmosphere, I was still a skeptic. I'm an American. I can't help it.
In spite of my vivid imagination and nauseating fantasies, we arrive at the dock and join a line of individuals who are also waiting to enjoy the dinner cruise. To my amazement, and if possible, further skepticism, we are escorted to a lovely cruise ship, small but comfortable, where a BBQ is fully cooking what appears to be chicken. It smells wonderful and my feet have barely touched the deck before a waiter is asking what I'd like to drink. Well, alright then. Now we're talkin'.



Upstairs or down? We debate and fully hold up the line of would be cruisers as we discuss the pro's and con's of indoor dining versus the open air, al fresco, wind in your face and bugs in your food experience. Up, we finally decide. Definitely up.
We ascend the steep staircase to the upper level and are pleased to see semi-comfortable looking benches around the deck. The captain is at the wheel, his back to us. Dave and Eileen seat themselves on the port side and breathe in the sea air. The deck fills with a surprising number of people and soon we're crammed between several golden agers, once again festooned in palm tree shirts and straw hats. I'm not kidding. Just wait, I'll show you. I have pictures.

See? I have no idea who these people are, I just took pictures of the shirts for proof.
As I mentioned once before, I LOVE boats, so I'm sitting there, totally happy, or almost...if it weren't for the fact that now I'm remembering all the boating trips we took as kids and all the many hours I spent driving my dads boat around the lake or river or wherever we were that particular day. I would rather be on a boat than just about anywhere and have never suffered even a brief moment of sea sickness in my life. Perhaps I was a sea captain in a former life, if I believed in former lives, which I don't think I do but haven't decided yet.
Anyway- The engine roars and the propellers begin to churn and our ship moves slowly out of the marina. The captain is standing a mere 10 feet away, the instrument panel calling my name, the wheel mocking me with each turn.
We are brought our drinks and I notice immediately that I've NEVER in my life had a beverage this STRONG. Interesting. You'd think a bartender on a ship like this would know how to mix a drink. I shrug and drink anyway thinking the next one, if there would be a next one, would not be as strong and would balance this one out. Makes sense, right?? Apparently alcohol doesn't work like that, but I didn't figure that out until later. And that doesn't really have anything to do with this story anyway.
We leave the harbor and are smoothly making our way out to the arch, the sun sinking low in the sky. Dinner is announced and we opt to wait a few minutes until the crowd thins a bit before trying to maneuver down the killer staircase. Meanwhile, El Capitano hasn't turned around and I decide to once again, test my psychic prowess by forcing my eyes to bore into the back of the captains neatly ironed shirt. In this fantasy, he turns in a proud captain-ish way, singles me out of the crowd of fifty people, offers me his hand and says, "Would you like to drive the boat?"
I am in the middle of this 'scorch him with my willpower' technique when, no kidding, he turns around, singles me out of the crowd, offers me his hand and says, "Would you like to drive the boat??"
I am shocked. What now? I hadn't gotten any further in the daydream but I figure the only thing to do is say yes. This is quickly becoming the best moment of my life and the memories of my dad and the lake are flooding back, simple times of childhood with no complications or regrets. Just happiness. Also- Pepe's kind of a hunk and hanging out with him aint such a bad deal either. I look at Ryan who see's exactly what I'm thinking. He smiles and nods his head. Giddy, I jump from my seat and head towards our captain who relinquishes the wheel.


"She's like a woman. Very sensitive." He says. And suddenly I'm the captain. I don't take my eyes off of the horizon. He shows me a space in the distant blue and tells me to point towards that. It takes several minutes but soon I have the boat under control and am steering gently, without overcorrection. Pepe and I talk while we cruise along. He asks about the states and I learn that he has a teenage daughter. I completely miss dinner and Pepe orders me another drink over his radio. This scene has been pulled directly from a Danielle Steele novel, I'm pretty sure. I'm questioning reality only slightly and would have thought I was losing it if I hadn't turned around a few times and seen Dave and Eileen and Ryan smile at me.


Pepe points over the bow of the boat to where a family of porpoises play in the harbor. A stingray floats to the surface and lays it's wings across the warm water, a nautical angel. We talk about the whales. Their migratory season is from November to February, in those months the waters near Cabo are full of them.
I actually thought I was doing pretty well as La capitana until an older gentleman came forward to announce that several passengers were sea sick. Pepe shrugged him off and said, "It's a boat." in his thick spanish accent and kindly, did not take the wheel from me.


It wasn't until the sun had set and we were heading back towards the marina that he escorted me back to my seat, told me how brilliant, beautiful and amazing I was, and ordered the waiter to bring me my dinner. No, I'm not kidding. That's exactly how it happened.

One would think the story would end here... Oh, no. Everyone knows the real fun happens after the sun goes down. Well, everyone knew that but us. As I mentioned in last weeks post, this was Dave and Eileens 36th anniversary, a special occasion certainly. Dave was whispering sweet nothings in her ear and she was wearing the silver necklace he'd bought her the day she and I were having our massages. They were generally being a cute little couple and we were all (Ryan and Dave and Eileen and I) preparing for the sad, yet timely, trip back through the marina when all of a sudden the deck of the boat starts vibrating with a funk-ay rhythm. Dave looks at Ryan, Ryan looks at Dave. What's happening here?
Eileen and I raise our eyebrows and glance at one another. We're not immediately alerted to the situation for some reason that even now escapes understanding. You'd think that as the first few bars of aforementioned funk-ay beat begins to rumble across the water that we'd say, "Hey, this isn't romantic. What have we done here?" But no. We wait. Which is, I suppose, all we could do since we were still a few hundred yards from the marina and stopped dead in the water. What are we going to do, swim for it?
And then we hear the infamous Sir Mix A Lot pronounce those now famous words,
"I Like Big Butt's and I cannot lie...You other brothers can't deny..." Well, you know the rest. Dave and Eileen, turning seven shades of red, are wearing the looks of the proverbial deer in the headlights. Ryan's grinning from ear to ear, reliving his vacation bible school escapades in which he would sneak from class to repeatedly play this song with his buddies and laugh themselves blue at the horrifying and not at all Bible related lyrics. I can see that it is only sheer will that is keeping him from jumping to his feet and doing The Stir in the middle of the deck. I too, I must admit, am grinning ferociously. But I'm in my twenties and can handle Sir Mix. I'm young enough to think it's funny. Or perhaps just perverse enough to think it's funny. At any rate, our romantic dinner cruise morphs at that moment from romantic bliss to a par-tay. Surprisingly enough- even the golden agers are up dancing and the waiters are paid well to make sure the now-tipsy travelers have the time of their lives. This explains the curiously strong beverages we'd been served all evening. Here's a few pictures for your viewing pleasure...

Yes, you're right- that's the YMCA

Not sure what he's reaching for here...

And no, that old guy beside her is NOT her husband. Her husband was the glaring, livid gentleman hidden behind her inebriated, jolly self. As you can imagine if you've ever been on a booze cruise, the games definitely become more intense as the evening progresses. The YMCA was only the beginning. Tequila shots, games heavy with sexual innuendo and some obscene dance moves performed by the staff were only a part of the lively fare offered up for entertainment that particular evening. Eileen spent the whole night hidden behind her brochure laughing hysterically, Dave tolerated the display with a good natured grin that also said, 'I might have to eat one of these Mexicans if he comes near my wife', and Ryan and I laughed heartily through the whole thing while also praying that none of the waiters decided to try their moves on us. It became a vicious cycle. Eileen would giggle, Dave would growl, Ryan and I would look at each other and start to laugh which would make Eileen peek up over the edge of her tattered brochure and she would start the giggles all over again.
We ended the cruise much later and I thanked Pepe heartily as we stepped back onto the boardwalk. I added, See the Whales in Cabo, to my list of things to do before I die, and we headed back to our hotel, strolling slowly in the evening heat. Tomorrow is our last full day in Cabo San Lucas. Ryan and I have planned to spend the day shopping in town and laying by the pool, something I haven't done at all since our arrival several days ago. I breathe in the night air, heavily scented with salt water and tobacco, the scents of grilling meat at the little cantina near the Tesoro. Eileen is still giggling about the cruise and Dave keeps looking at her out of the corner of his eye. We laugh at them, wish them a happy anniversary and head to bed.
I hear Eileen yell down their flight of steps before their door closes, "What happens in Cabo Stays in Cabo!!!!!" then SLAM. They are gone. Tomorrow we will absorb every moment since they will be our last here. The party continues beyond our balcony, but we leave the sliding doors open so that we can hear it all. I mentally resolve to NOT get back on the Portland bound plane and am contemplating the logistics of this maneuver when, unbidden, sleep comes.

Please stay tuned for next weeks episode of Baja Tuesday's...'The Long Road Home' or 'Burning up at Re-entry'.