Again, Again, Again and Again.

 I have come to love my step-mom's family.  Especially her sister and brother-in-law, Nancy and Ron.  They've become my family and we've spent lots of good times together.  Our shared love of UCONN Women's Basketball, and women's basketball in general provided us great bonding time.

Back when this pandemic started, all three of them (Betty, Nancy and Ron) came down with the dreaded Covid.  They survived, but it took forever for them to get back their sense of taste, and they slowed down a lot after.  

But Nancy kept creeping downhill.  She never smoked but she had COPD (thanks to second hand smoke) and was already having difficulties before Covid.   

On Wednesday morning, around 4:30 a.m., Nancy went home.  She was 91 plus one day.   

As much as I love her, her gift to me was love and respect.  She treated me like a long lost niece from day one.  If I've given you something sewed, I probably made it on the machine she gave me.   

I love Ron.  He won't be here long without Nancy.  I'm not looking forward to life without him, either.  But I do understand.

Thank God for the pups and Blackie.

 

 

 

ANN YUNGK OBITUARY

Ann "Nancy" (Collins) Yungk, 91 of Bloomfield and formerly of Windsor, beloved wife of Ronald E. Yungk for 66 years, passed away Wednesday, August 24, 2022. Born in Hartford, daughter of the late John and Marian (Dooley) Collins, she had lived in Windsor for many years moving to Bloomfield seven years ago. She was employed by G. Fox and Co and Aetna Life Insurance Company for several years before devoting her time to raising her family. She was a wonderful cook, enjoyed ceramics, and was an active member of St. Joseph's Church in Poquonock serving previously as President of the St. Joseph's Women's Guild. Besides her husband she leaves her sons Ronald E. Yungk, Jr. and his wife Barbara of Windsor, John P. Yungk and his wife Rosemarie of New Britain, Joseph R. Yungk of Providence, RI, and Daniel C. Yungk of Granby; her sister Elizabeth Cronin of Bloomfield; and grandchildren Christopher, Emma, and Rebecca and her partner Mike. Besides her parents she was predeceased by her uncle Joseph Dooley. Her family will receive friends Tuesday from 9:30- 10:30 am at the Carmon Windsor Funeral Home, 807 Bloomfield Ave. Windsor, followed by a Mass of Christian Burial at Saint Damien of Molokai Parish, St. Joseph Church, 1747 Poquonock Avenue, Poquonock at 11 AM. Burial will follow in St. Joseph's Cemetery, Poquonock. Memorial Donations may be made to the American Lung Association (lung.org) in her memory. For directions or condolences please visit www.carmonfuneralhome.com

Published by Hartford Courant on Aug. 27, 2022.

 

Blog 8-8, Trials and Tribulations

After all the heartache with Rigbee and that continues, we are at last at an agility trial.

The Fieldhouse is a wonderful venue out in the middle of nowhere, Northford, CT.  Lovely rolling hills and farmland and narrow, two lane blacktop roads.  Rigbee takes me and the puppies there and we find a place to park.  Our adventure is just beginning. Trust me.

Tripp and I are entered in two classes each day.  Novice Jumpers and Novice Standard.  They are always amongst the last classes of the day so I’m volunteering as Ring Crew for a few classes in the morning.  The facility is A/C’d wonderfully, and the surface is the best I’ve ever seen.  There must be a rubber underlay, with a long, artificial grass over it with ground up rubber throughout.  It’s simply spectacular. 

I brought both pups in to see the place and walk around a bit. I decided that if we did not get a “Q” (qualified run) before the end of the year, it would be the end of our “trialing” and we would continue in classes for fun only.  Trials are not cheap. 

Our first run was Novice Jumpers.  We failed.  The 6 (!!!) weave poles did us in.  It took 3 tries to get through them and of course, that blew up our time, too.  A couple of hours later, we went for a Novice Standard.  I seriously don’t remember how we blew that up, only that we did and we were over time.  I headed to the coach saddened but not really upset.  It is what it is.

An hour or so later, there is a knock on the coach door and I’m informed that if we’re staying overnight, it’s $25 (no services, either) and we have to move.  Okay, so we do and I will pay when the owners get back Sunday afternoon. 

After a great night’s sleep (no kidding, really!) I’m working a few classes as ring crew when I’m told I have to move Rigbee, AGAIN.  I don’t have the fancy tail pipe that goes off the genny up over the roof and someone complained.  OMFG.

Apparently, all of this info was in “the premium” which no one reads anymore because we all sign up on line.  There was nothing in the on-line sign up about any of this.  AARRRGGGHHHHHHH.

Shortly after noontime, Tripp and I had our Novice Jumpers run.  We were again over time, but we did much better.  We had one R (refusal, Tripp either ran past the element or around it, I don’t remember) and one W (wrong way).  You can’t have any W’s in Jumpers.  Oh well.  At this point, I’m assuming that the Novice Standard may well be our last attempt at trialing.

Then comes the knock on the coach door.  We have to move (AGAIN).  We’re “not in the parking area.”  Inwardly, I’m about to lose my mind, my patience and my temper, but it’s Matt and he’s a nice guy, it’s not his fault.  He actually directs me over and moves cones for us to park near one of the entry doors.  It’s ok.  Nobody’s fault, shite happens and this week or so, it’s all on me.  I can hose it off. 

The absolute Last Class of the Trial is Novice Standard.  The judge is a sweetie, I’ve met her before.  When I put my hand up for “Novice A” (never titled a dog before), she’s surprised…  guess she thought by now we’d have something.  When she asked for questions, my hand went up again.  I asked “Can seniors get an additional 5 seconds of time?”  She laughed (we all did) and then said “no, but that’s a good idea.”

People were leaving and the building was emptying out.  I asked Laura of Split Rock Labs to hold Tripp while I walked the course.  Novice courses are “easy” but I need to walk, study and plan multiple choices as how I’d like to go is not always the way Tripp wants to go.  This is a team sport. 

The class goes pretty quickly and soon enough, Tripp and I are in the ring.  He doesn’t wait for release but goes on “Ready.”  (We’re supposed to start with “Ready, Set, Obstacle name” and he goes on the last.  OOKAAYYY)  I don’t care as I’m already moving and he’s pretty well focused.  He hits the contact areas on the A-Frame, makes the quick right turn over the jump and zeros in on the 6 weave poles.  OMG, he DOES them on the first try!  I’m ecstatic! Slight left for the tire and he goes right by it.  But he comes right back to me and jumps through it, losing only a couple of precious seconds (and getting an "R").  Another jump (“over”) and the teeter.  He’s been doing that since puppyhood and makes both contact areas.  I don’t’ remember what kind of a cross I did there, but it was a sharp right onto the table (“box”).  Oh, Tripp was En Fuego!  Reverse direction and it’s two jumps to the tunnel.

He ran right by the entrance but came back to it (yup, he got an “R”), and I raced as fast as I could along that back wall.  It was a long straight stretch with a spread jump and distance to a right angle for the dog walk. I was yelling “Walk It!” to him as he landed the spread and he was really moving. He started to go past it, however he was really listening to me and he leapt up onto the yellow contact and trotted up and across.  Straight out from the dog walk was a tunnel and the end of the run.  As he started down the walk, I’m yelling “walk it!” so he doesn’t blow the bottom contact and as he trotted down “tunnel, tunnel, tunnel!” He did.  I couldn’t have been happier.  He was darned good.  I told him so, over and over and over again.

I picked up my yellow copy of the score and checked our time.  THREE seconds over.  THREE DAMN SECONDS!!!  I knew I could not have run it any faster.  We’re done.  That’s it.

But then people were coming up to me, saying we’d “Q’d.”  FYI, a qualifying score in Novice is 85 or better.  Each “W”, “R” or “T” (wrong way, refusal or table fault) is a 5 point deduction.  I knew we only had two, or minus 10 points but we were over time.  What I didn’t know was for each second over, 1 point is deducted.  We had 87 points!  We Qualified!!! 

 OMG OMG OMG

I get my green ribbon and reading the back, I realize not only did we qualify, we were FIRST!  Now, there weren’t that many of us, at any height, but nevertheless!!

Course Map:

This morning, I brought dunkin munchkins for everyone at class.  Then in our first practice run I managed to trip and fall before the last jump.  I’m fine, it’s a well-padded surface and I’ll have a bruise of two.  What was incredibly adorable was Tripp’s reaction.  He was on course for the last jump and stopped, mid-stride to race back to me and cover my face with kisses.  I had to smile.  He just so damn adorable.  He was a little worried through the rest of the class, but I gave him lots of love and cheese, too! 

We are a team.

Oh Rigbee

 I believe most of my readers know that Rigbee is my 26' Winnebago Outlook.  He's been up at Long****  to fix the generator and replace the microwave/convection oven.  It was supposed to run me (in total)  X. 

I dropped him off back in May.  Two and half months later, I called and said "where are we?"  well...  then generator is done, they fixed the overhead that they "fixed" last year and started to fall apart, but NOTHING ELSE IS DONE.

So I gave them a couple more days, went up on Tuesday and discovered the bill (for the generator! and removing the dead micro/oven was 2X what they had told me it would be.  Plus, someone smashed into it and broke the door over the generator.  Yeah, they're gonna fix it.

ARRGGHHH.

So, I paid the bill and drove home.  The coach STUNK.  I tested the stove top and ran the generator checking the a/c.  The genny ran fine.  Little to no A/C.  Then I discovered that there was NO PROPANE left in the tank and someone had hooked up the TV.  What was going on?  What did they do with my coach for 2 1/2 months???

Oh and the 30 amp to 120 volt converter plug is missing.

The stink was leaking propane and it's a major miracle I didn't blow myself and the camper up when I tested the stove top.  

So Thursday I drove back to the rv place and they discovered a washer was installled backwards, and they refilled my propane tank.  Gave me another converter plug.  They also checked out the a/c and it was in dire need of cleaning.  (that's on me, I guess)  I paid for the cleaning and an hour later, came home.   

I was finishing up the packing and went to fill the fresh water tank.  As the water went in, it came out down below.  A phone call later and I'm crawling around on the tar under Rigbee to figure out where it's leaking.  Apparently, someone who was either winterizing or dewinterizing opened a valve and didn't close it.

So, I drive back up to WIndsor Locks and an hour later we're fixed again (I hope).

I'm off to Northford with the puppies tomorrow, hopefully Rigbee will be in good form!

Oh, and it appears that when they dewinterized, they didn't really do ANYTHING.

AARRGGGGHHHHH.

Wish Tripp and me LUCK!

 

 

A day in D.C.

I got up at O My Gawd 3:30 am on Saturday morning for a 6 am flight departure from Bradley to Dulles in Washington DC.  I haven’t flown since Ireland in 2008 and not really sure of all the hullabaloo that goes into it nowadays, even though I spent HOURS reading through TSA’s suggestions and rules. 

I left the house and my puppies and kitty behind before 4:40 and threw the carry-on suitcase in the back of Figure (the rogue!) and the backpack on the seat next to me and 20 minutes later, pulled up to Bradley.  It’s so easy since 291 was built… damn, I’m aging myself again! 

It cost $25. a day to park!  Park in 2D, and remember that!  Not a long walk to United (breaks guitars) and get my ticket then on to security.  

https://www.google.com/search?client=firefox-b-1-d&q=youtube+united+breaks+guitars

I wore my white sneakers with Velcro instead of laces.  Much quicker on and off.  But when you forget that your car/house keys are in your pocket, you fail the metal detector.  Embarrassed by myself, thirsty and tired, I shuffled off towards the gate.  Very little was open and the little booths that were did not have bottled coke so I just kept going.

In order to not PAY EVEN MORE for the flight, my seat was the last row, aisle.  I like the aisle, but the rear of the plane is a little more, how shall we say? Bumpy?  No problem.  I thought sure since I’d have to traverse the entire length of the plane that I would not be among the last to board.  Was I wrong.  And it was a darn-near full flight. 

I got a coke from the beverage service and sucked it down before we landed.  I don’t I think I’ve ever been to Dulles before.  It’s quite large.  Eventually, I got to where the shuttles pick up and after waiting a bit got on the one to the Hilton to get BRANDON!!!!

If I’d been thinking I would have picked up the car first, but naturally I didn’t, so Brandon came with me to Hertz.  But the Dulles Hilton is incredibly ritzy.  Very impressive. 

The midget car I’d reserved was not going to be very comfortable, so I upgraded and we got a Chevy somethingorother, that was plenty big for us.  Then I handed over my phone to Brandon and he navigated us pick up Ramona.  With Mom C’s oldest friend on board, off to Pohick Episcopal Church Cemetery, where the FBI are holding an active shooter drill.  And we’re burying Mom C.

The four eldest were there:  Dar, Mel, Me and George and her two oldest grands:  Porter and Brandon.  Dar had picked up the marker stone and next thing I know, George has a TROWEL out and Porter starts digging up the grass for the stone.  No, we didn’t have to dig the grave, the small sondage for the urn was there, covered by a small wooden plank with a cross on it.  Porter was digging up for the stone.

It really was funny and we all laughed about it.  

George and Porter digging:

 Porter set the stone:

 The Urn, Roses and a picture of Mom and Dad from the Bicentenial (I love it and have a copy!).  Notice the little wooden covering over the grave.

Brandon

Then the priest arrived, Irish, funny, and really nice.  The graveside service is all of 5 minutes, and we had gathered from Florida, Connecticut, Georgia, South Carolina and Pennsylvania.  For 5 minutes. 

No, to see Mom and Dad C reunited, together again, at last.  As we stood there I had flashbacks to 41 years ago, in the cold, damp February as we’d laid Dad’s body to rest.  It came back vividly, the pain and the pride.  The pain of loss and the pride that these two people had welcomed me in their home and hearts.  Had given me a safe landing in a turbulent time.  How much I love and admire them, both.

Let’s not get maudlin here.

We caravanned over to a wonderful restaurant, Hometown Grill, for a delightful lunch/brunch and spent over 2 hours laughing and talking and eating too much.  I was tempted to get a mimosa, there was certainly enough food to absorb the alcohol, but nope, more caffeine in the form of coke.

We had time to kill (so to speak!) and Ramona told us about the second Air and Space Smithsonian museum near Dulles.  She used to be a docent at the version in Washington proper.  It made sense and felt right to go to the new one now.  41 years ago, we’d trooped into downtown D.C. and spent most of a day at Air and Space there. 

So, George, Porter, Brandon and I met at the new one and spent not long enough but a couple of hours anyway going through it.  The Discovery is there (space shuttle) and one of the SSTs, the surviving one.  The Glamorous Glynnis, first mach1, Chuck Yeager’s rocket, the B-17 that dropped the first atomic bomb, and lots of really cool old aircraft.

Porter, George and Brandon

Notice the different shades of grey and black on the tiles.  The darker ones are newer, the lighter ones have come through the atmosphere a few times.  Also, some of them have serial numbers - most of them.  They're custom-made fit a particular place on the shuttle.
 

I was looking for a Lockheed Electra but didn’t find one.  George didn’t know why I’d want to see one of them, and I promptly broke into Mark O’Donnell’s wonderful “Here’s to Amelia Earhart, first lady of the sky…”  George’s grin was a sweet reward.  Wish I could find a recording...

Well, too soon it was time to say good-bye to them, and we hugged very tightly, promising to stay in touch and get together, as a family, camping.

Brandon and I went back to his hotel (that fancy-shamancy Hilton) and sat in the car with the engine and air on and talked for a while.  He doesn’t know how special he is, and not just because he’s my nephew, he’s just an incredible person.  I am sooo lucky with my niece and nephews.  God is very good to me.

We were both tired and he had to get up early for his flight and I wanted to make sure I had plenty of time before my flight so…

I should have worn my step tracker, I swear I walked 10 miles between airports, museums, etc.  I was BEAT by the time I made it to the gate, which of course was the last one in the terminal and furthest away.  Where are those little electric carts when you need them? 

Mel and I had swapped over, but instead of lightening my load, 20 pounds of White Lily Self-Rising flour added to mine  (you just can’t find that up here).  And I really must find myself another carry-on.  This one, which I love, is 25 years old and although I’ve replaced the wheels, it just doesn’t roll like it used to and it’s heavy to drag around.  

Sunset from the scooter between terminals:  picture doesn't do it justice.

 

Again, I was in the rear of the plane, next to last row.  Flight wasn’t quite as full, the landing was a bit squirrely (scary) and it was a looonnnggg walk to the car.  I kept having to hit the lock button to find Figure because I forgot it was row D, but that worked and with no traffic I was home before 12:30.

Flying is very noisy, and I drank a lot of fizzy coke.  I was grateful for the plane noise as what goes in must come out.  Sound only, thank heavens, but lots of it.

The fur kids were delighted to have me home, the pups didn’t want to go out until they’d properly been greeted and loved on, and then I discovered that although they’d been fed, neither one had eaten their suppers.  They missed me. 

I was basically worthless yesterday.  Saturday was as it was supposed to be: sad, funny, sweet and wonderful.   

sláinte