Gary sent me an article from the San Francisco Chronicle about the battleship USS Oregon. It was reminding us that she was instrumental in getting our country to build the Panama Canal. During the war with Spain, the Oregon sailed from Bremerton, Washington around Cape Horn to Florida, a distance of 14,000 miles, which would have been 4,000 miles with the Canal. I remember as a teenager when brother Rudy took me to see that ship on the Portland waterfront. It was impressive.

One Friday, I took a cab to the post office but was too cheap to ride both ways, so I walked home. Going 16 blocks more or less with plantar fasciitis is physically challenging, and took a long time. I found that when I’m walking, old buildings are easier to identify. Just touching their edges makes them familiar, like the Seaside grille next to the Strand Theater, for instance.

I met two ladies from Canada who were enjoying the sea breeze and found it invigorating while I was cold! Cold! Cold! I met three other strangers on my jaunt, too; one Lady who recognized me and lives with her husband, I think in the former Ballhorn house. They have a flower garden facing Holladay. I met Mr. Fulton, present owner of the Hagmeier, George Gray, John Jandrall house, which has undergone some significant changes. He had some flattering things to say about having read my column for 25 years.

Near my home, I met a former British nurse Jennifer, because she had a contractor working for her who interested me. It was an informative though tiring walk. The recognizability of the path came back to me as I avoided familiar depressions in the pavement and spots where it grabs the soles of my shoes and threatens to throw me over.

Thursday night was fortuitous. My friend Emmy and I went to Kentucky Fried Chicken for our dinner. Next day was the Kentucky Derby where American Pharaoh won and everybody sang “My Old Kentucky Home” — not “My Old Kentucky Fried Chicken.” It was a great day.

Can you imagine thousands of turkeys having their temperatures taken and getting their “noses” wiped somewhere in the middle west or wherever they hang out? Thanksgiving is a long way off, but we hope they bird flu will be all cleaned up by then. If you’re talking turkey, how do you say, “ah-choo?”

May 7, I walked to Dooger’s to attend about the 10th annual prayer breakfast. It was our usual enthusiastic program with heartfelt singing, prayers from almost every pastor in town on various subjects relevant to today’s living plus a solo of “How Great Thou Art.” Darren Dunn is the new organizer, replacing Carroll Van Dyke who died last year. Carroll was recognized for her faithful role in previous service for the prayer breakfasts. I think it’s a wonderful thing Doug Wiese does for us every year. We always have a great, stick-to-you-ribs breakfast, though, for me, there’s never enough time to eat, but we need to be through in two hours for regular business. Thank you Doug for your generosity with time and talents. We all appreciate it. I’m sure the prayers were helpful to heal our land as well. I met several new people and a nice tablemate, Renee, who gave me a ride home.

Laugh line:

P.S., have you heard about the cross-eyed teacher who couldn’t control her pupils?