1. Normally, when I stay at an airbnb, I brew myself coffee in the rental's kitchen. Today, however, I had a different plan for getting my day off to a blissful start.
I followed the exit instructions of my host, hopped back into the Camry, and (I can't believe I'm about to write this!) rocketed down to the Garland District so I could enjoy a triple berry scone and coffee at Rocket Bakery.
I brought along a notebook and pen because I decided to leave my laptop in Kellogg for this overnight trip. The Garland Street Rocket Bakery is splendid. It's quiet, has plenty of seating, and the barista was perfectly friendly and eager to please.
I sat for over an hour, writing out notes from my superb day on Friday, preparing to write in this blog. I had parked near the Garland Theater and I was curious if Bon Bon, a small bar attached to the theater, had survived the contagion.
It had.
I remembered fondly a great evening I had at Bon Bon with Mary and Kathy playing trivia after we'd eaten dinner at Ferguson's.
I hope to return to Bon Bon some time for a cocktail and just to sit over a martini and remember those trips to Spokane to team up with Mary and Kathy to answer inconsequential but fun-packed questions.
I don't think I've shopped in a Trader Joe's since living in Maryland.
Christy went to the N. Spokane Trader Joe's when she went on her retreat not long ago and, inspired, I took a fun trip there myself. I had fun strolling the aisles, remembering purchases Debbie and I used to make at the Trader Joe's in Eugene -- frozen chicken tenders, whole fresh chickens, raisin cinnamon bread, different kinds of chips, French roast coffee, Stilton cheese with cranberries, jars of Gravenstein apple juice, but I wasn't looking to buy a lot. Christy asked me to pick up a few items for her and I bought some chocolate walnut biscotti, ridged potato chips, and coconut milk for us at home.
I mainly visited the store for old time's sake -- and I'll do it again. I had fun.
I like to drive through the campus of Whitworth University and marvel how the school has transformed its physical self in the years since I attended Whitworth as a student and worked a few years there. I was there from 1974-78 and again from 1982-84.
The campus's buildings back then were a combination of older, rock solid brick structures that needed improvements and older, run down buildings that had never been built for the long run, but were more like short-term barracks.
Physically, it was a very modest looking campus -- and to some of my colleagues back then, what I just called modest was an embarrassment.
Nothing is modest on Whitworth's campus any longer. Over the years, the university has invested in significant remodeling projects, built several new facilities, expanded the physical reach of the campus, and, cleared the campus of buildings, well, ones I was fond of, but that others found shameful.
2. From Whitworth, I drove to the facility where Kathy Brainard is living and being cared for. When I arrived, a fence was across the entry way and I didn't see any way to enter.
I drove back to Whitworth, parked in a parking lot, and put out a message to the Facebook group who are Kathy's friends. While there, Linda called me and we had great visit. Another group member sent me the facility's phone number. Then, Susanne wrote me a message explaining how what I called a fence was a gate and how to get in.
I returned to the facility, pushed the button Susanne told me about, and the gate magically opened and I signed in, put on a mask, and went to Kathy's room.
Kathy was asleep, but one of the employees accompanied me to the room and woke up Kathy, telling her she had a visitor.
Kathy woke up and murmured my name and I sat by her bed.
I stayed for about 40 minutes or so. Kathy slept most of that time. She didn't seem to know what I was talking about when I told her Copper, Luna, and I had become good friends at that her cats were doing really well.
Kathy did try to talk with me a bit. Her mind had taken her back to the fall of 1965 and she told me she was concerned about going from the sixth to the seventh grade and what a big jump that was.
I agreed with her. It is a big jump. I added that it would be all right because of good teachers like Mrs. D' Andrea and Mrs. McKenzie.
I'll return to visit Kathy as soon as I can.
Visiting her today made me think of how Christy, Carol, Paul, other family and friends, and I used to sit with Mom just to be with her, even if she slept most of the time or had trouble talking.
It seemed good with Mom and it seemed good today to be in the room with Kathy.
3. After visiting Kathy, I returned to Whistle Punk to pick up the can of beer Chris had put in the cooler for me.
Today's beer pourer was named Dutch and, like Chris, he was outgoing, eager to be informative, and a great conversationalist with me and the other people who came in.
As soon as I sat down at the bar, Dutch asked me if I came to get the beer Chris set aside. I said, yes, I was the guy, but that I'd also come in to drink some beer.
I ordered the Festbier again and as Dutch and I got to talking it turned out that he has a snowboarding buddy in Mullan who is also working on remodeling properties. Dutch's friend now has The Outlaw and he also has the bowling alley and he's turned the former drug store near The Outlaw into an airbnb.
Dutch also filled me in on more of the history of the Whistle Punk and what some of their dreams are for future expansion.
I ended up sticking around for two hours, talking with Dutch, talking some with a woman in from Seattle who is also from Buffalo and North Carolina and was visiting a couple of breweries downtown to try out flights.
After I finished my second pint of Festbier and ate an order of Buffalo chicken tenders and curly fries from the Heritage Deli attached to the Whistle Punk, I exchanged a hearty handshake of gratitude with Dutch and made my way back to Kellogg, interrupted only by a quick fuel stop and Costco and a quick trip in to buy just a few items.
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