You probably remember the ramblings from last week about our struggle searching for the retirement home of our dreams. It was probably obvious that we didn’t know what we really wanted and was also obvious that Jean and I didn’t necessarily agree with which direction to go.

I’ve attached two pictures to show you all (that’s the collective you…not the hillbilly y’all) what our choices were. Since I bought the “cottage” at Crooked Lake, our budget for a third home has been substantially reduced. Jean was leaning toward a house, while I was leaning toward a trailer (sorry…a mobile home). The homes we could afford, as you can see, needed some work. Most realtors trying for a sale would call them “fixer-uppers”, but I know Ron Lewis and Brother Bob would call them “tear-downs”.

We decided that we would buy a mobile home to spend our winters in until we stayed more than two or three months, then would decide what we really wanted and make a change at that time. We may decide that we like trailer park life and stay there until we have to move to the old folks home or in with our kids (we’ll start out with the kid that caused us the most trouble and work our way to the kid that caused the least…kid’s, decide among yourselves who’s first).

We made an offer on a place and, after a counter offer back, agreed to buy a place in Club Wildwood. There are eight Hastings families there…Larry and Lorrie Blair, Jan Kietzmann, Bob and Dorothy Stack, Dick and Ann Welton, Ted and Clara McKelvey, Dick and Lucy Palmateer, Bob and ??? Branch (I don’t know them so I don’t know what his wife’s name is…it isn’t really ???), and Duward and Pat Cain. Former Hastings residents include Dick and Joyce Guenther, Lenny and Marge Burns, Larry and Betty Kornstadt and probably many others.

I wanted the “Pumpkin Trailer” in the attached picture, but it was on the water and was out of our price range. So we settled on one in the park on Homer Avenue (named after Ron Lewis’ father). We are now officially trailer trash.

Jean and Jan Kietzmann (Jean Walker…not Jean Kietzmann) went shopping for furniture yesterday. I had to stay home and watch paint dry, so I wasn’t able to go. After 3 hours of peace and quiet, Jean called and asked if I would come up the road a few miles ‘cuz she found a table she liked. When I got there, we looked at the table…then she punished me by making me go through the entire store and look at a couple of chairs. Apparently I’ve been a bad, bad boy.

This week’s long run was not a thing of beauty, but then again, it never really is. There isn’t a good place to “drop water” so I did the entire run with one bottle of Gatorade. It wasn’t enough. My schedule shows this long run day at 120 minutes (a rest week). After last week’s blister/ankle fiasco, I decided to run the 120 minutes, but then added a one mile walk to make up for the 9 miles I ran last week when I should have gone 135 minutes (13 to 14 miles). 

Jean’s getting bored running alone, getting bored with running flat, and there isn’t any food to eat when we get done (I won’t let her buy things at the bakery ‘cuz I know I’ll eat them after she goes to bed). So we’re coming home in a couple of weeks. We don’t know exactly when, but Jean will probably ride back with Robert and make sure he stops and rests every hour since that’s how often she wants to stop for 5 minute bathroom breaks that turn into 30 minutes of buying coffee and waiting in the quick-mart for people buying lottery tickets with change from their kids piggy banks, but don’t get me started. 

Jean wasn’t feeling well yesterday. She get’s mouth sores from laying out in the sun (no, not from talking too much), so now she’s down laying in the sun today because the medication is making her feel a little better, but don’t get me started there either.

Just (Now We Have A Place To Live) Jack