I’ve written several times about the killdeer at the Seaside Outlets and the subject is not exhausted. They’re the pretty ring-necked birds that screech and run foot races in the grass near the fountain. They also like a green patch by the theater. Habitat is from there to 9th Avenue, with a lot of low flying back and forth across the highway to the Adventist Church. Recently, an adult and two babies took over 9th Avenue. The mama did most of the hollering but all three were in our busy road too much, skittering here and there. Of course that worried me and sure enough, in a few minutes a guy came barreling along and though I tried to warn him, his speed inevitably caused him to smash one of the little birds. I retrieved the dead baby and laid him in the strawberry patch. Why can’t people just cool it a little?

I thought we’d settled it with “In One Ear,” once and for all that Seaside’s Broadway is not Broadway Street. Further that streets and drives run north and south while avenues run east and west. I remind The Daily Astorian of this because a recent paper wrote of 9th Street. I know that one since I live on it and it’s 9th Avenue! Then they began a new error by writing of Oceanway Street — good grief — another redundancy, which I hope they’ll forget. I can hear a “there she goes again,” but after all, right is right.

On the third of July, I walked to Safeway to fill up my cupboard. Imagine my chagrin on finishing shopping to learn that one cab company had an hour and 45 minute waiting time while the other one had taken two hours off. Holidays are when the home folks are supposed to work extra hard to make money and serve the tourists. The Fourth is our busiest day. I missed the parade because it always happens when I’m at the beauty shop. After the walk home I didn’t have energy for a trek to the museum, though a couple of horses did run by on my street, so I settled down to watch the celebration on TV — concerts and martial music. I looked forward to a long evening of enjoyment but when the lights went out about 5:45 p.m., I prayed that the restaurateurs wouldn’t have to wait forever to serve their hungry customers. My own dinner wasn’t all that exciting so I decided to pamper myself with a red, white and blue dessert. It was red currants and blueberries in vanilla ice cream. Afterward, I chose to sing my own concert of patriotic songs. Good thing I was alone! We had been warned all week about the possibility of terrorism on the holiday. Little did we know it would be terrorism of our own making — a loose Mylar balloon that flew into the wiring and blew a transformer. This has happened at least twice before. Why can’t we have a transformer on standby — or perhaps some generators?

Laugh line:

Now that I’m older, here’s what I’ve discovered: If all is not lost, then where the heck is it?