worldwide pablo

Have a great weekend

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

It is well.

Today's word: Hiatus

hi·a·tus

NOUN:  1. A gap or interruption in space, time, or continuity; a break.

And that, dear friends, is all she wrote for now. WWP will be back when, and if, the joy returns.

Have a great weekend

ThURLsday

No time, no mood and no words. Just pictures.

Serious business

Whether it was from the weather to the luncheon entrée, or from the cheese to the German dinner now just past -- the word for today would be serious. As in heavy. Or ultra. Or mega.

Good thing the relatives don't visit all that often. The waistline [and weather gear] could never withstand it.

[To see more, check out WWP's photostream at right, or click here.]

And the days dwindle down to a precious few

Blogfather Jack is not alone in getting into a misty-eyed “whatever happened to summer” funk today. The same somber note sounded today in WWP’s head as he switched the interval windshield wipers from intermittent to low, and then to high, while careening down Hwy. 101 in search of a summer seafood luncheon. The unhappy clouds, nerving breeze and turned-off sun notwithstanding, the calendar says it is August. But the senses say it is autumn, or at the very least, that autumn is not far away.

Days like this are freighted with contradictions. As WWP writes this, fog is beginning to carpet the beaches of Lincoln City even as warm, pregnant clouds generously shed their moisture. The fireplace is roaring behind, yet all the windows are open. And though the temps are dipping into the 50s and 40s at night, all the diners are wearing shorts. Another dog day afternoon in Orelandia.

Autumn will come soon enough. WWP is content to number the days.

[No post tomorrow. If you want to keep up on WWP’s coastal adventure with the relatives, continue to check out WWP’s photos at right, or click here.]

Cloudy skies

There’s an old saying about Oregonians: “We don’t tan – we rust!” Never was the aphorism more evident than yesterday when WWP greeted and escorted his siblings and other relatives along the Oregon coast. The normally serene summer scene to be enjoyed seaside in August was nowhere to be found. Instead, clouds rattled and thundered, lightning illumined the heavens, and the skies unleashed all manner of wetness, from mist to showers to outright rain. Oh, it’s pleasantly warm enough [the low 60s in many places], but it’s not the summer sublimity that had been promised the out-of-town guests. Aunt Marjorie, now in her 95th year, remarked that in all her visits to the Oregon coast she has yet to see the sun. The forecast ain't so promising either.

Between the squalls, WWP and Housemate shopped the five boroughs of Lincoln City, from Oceanlake to Taft – both newly refurbished with attractive sidewalks, crosswalks, benches, foliage and public art. A side trip to nearby Gleneden Beach coincided with the longest dry stretch in the day, where there was time to kick back and view all the unusual and odd scenes one normally encounters at the beach. And here once again, another Oregon adage was proved: Tourists go to the beach to collect shells; Oregonians go to the beach to pick up litter.

Before dinner, wine and cheese. After a nice dinner [seafood, what else?] and a few rounds of dominos. Ah, the good life.

Worries? What worries? We're rust-proof.

[See more photos on WWP's photostream.]

Derailed

Far from being a power blogger, Worldwide Pablo will be visiting here even less this week, as he squires the siblings and other relatives around our fair state for a regular summer family get-together. The long week began with a trip Saturday to the scenic Salmonberry Lodge, improvidently located on the wrong side of a very newsworthy landslide and bridge collapse caused by last December's storms. This photo hardly does justice to the scope of the actual damage. The trip to Salmonberry Lodge now involves a one-hour detour through Wheeler, Ore. Despite the miles of bumpy and dusty unimproved roads, the trip was worth it.

Yesterday we watched surfers and dories avoid one another in Pacific City, as the fog rolled out into the Pacific and the sun restated her presence. Life is good.

Be sure to check out WWP's photo blogroll over on the right, or click here. It should be one of the best weeks WWP has had in a long while.

Have a great weekend

The phenomenon that will not die

We're speaking of "Dallas," of course. Today comes word that the stars of that 80s show will get together once again, this time to celebrate the program's 30th anniversary. It won't be a reunion show, but instead a barbecue at the drama's location, Southfork Ranch outside of Dallas. Tickets start at $100 [which is roughly what this happenin' gal charged for front-row seats, ahem] and go up to $1,000. The event will include fireworks, a country music concert, a question-and-answer session with the cast and tours of the mansion. Details here.

WWP was never a big fan of the show. During the 1980s, WWP didn't get the chance to watch much television, being self-employed for the first half of the decade and holding down two or three jobs at a time during the second half. The whole "who shot J.R." mania completely passed him by.  In its entire run, WWP only watched one episode. Twice.

It was somewhere around 1990 or 1991, as "Dallas" was winding down. Pablo been forced to sit through an episode with friends. About six months later, a similar situation arose, and it being the last season he consented to watch another episode. Only problem was, it was a rerun -- of the one and only episode WWP had seen before!

That's his main memory of "Dallas." Here's a happier one.