Last Wednesday, Lynn contacted me for help picking up a couple of chairs she'd put on hold at the Lynnwood Fred Meyer. Lynn does not own a car and I am happy to offer her transportation when a bus ride won't do. Knowing that the chairs wouldn't fit in our Prius, Lynn asked me if I could reserve a pickup truck from Flexcar. Phillip suggested to me that a minivan might do better. I had a third idea, however. I figured that one of Flexcar's Honda Element AWDs might do the job well. Besides, as much as I detest SUVs, I've been curious about what it's like to drive one. I did a search from work and found two Honda Elements near our apartment - one at 10th and John, and the other at Melrose and Denny. I didn't have my new PIN with me, so I'd have to wait until after Spanish class to make the reservation. That worried me a bit. With this nice summer weather, are too many people going to be reserving SUVs for weekend drives to the mountains? I got home Wednesday night and was amazed to find that neither of those two Elements had any reservations - at all - on Saturday.

The Honda Element I reserved was bright red. It seemed to be what an SUV should be - it was functional (I liked the idea of the washable interior) and versatile (I liked that the back seats folded not only down, but up out of the way). Phillip went with us, and even with three of us riding in it, the two chairs fit in perfectly. I hated driving the thing, though. I'd gotten used to the maneuverability and the visibility around me that the Prius gives me. With the Element, I felt like I was driving a truck - which, of course, I was.

As I drove us and the chairs down the freeway toward Lynn's house, I remarked that if I ever feel the need to own an SUV - although I couldn't imagine why I'd need to have one - the Element seemed like the one I'd want. Then Lynn pointed out that it was nice that I have one when I really need it, and I don't have it when I don't need it. Then Phillip remarked that that is exactly why we signed up for Flexcar.

Phillip and I went out to dinner in SeaTac last night with Snowwolf (who invited us) and Kite Lady. Those are, of course, two geocachers. I had a great time, but I was already very tired before we left home. When we got back home, I tried to do a load of laundry, but both washers and both dryers were in use. Then Phillip and I decided, on the spur of the moment, to try to find a brand new geocache on the UW campus. The cache had been published over an hour earlier, so we knew that our chances of a First To Find were slim. Still, we decided to be among the first eight or ten finders. We found the geocache, and we were the third geocachers to sign the log. The Second To Find was a name we didn't recognize - but is obviously someone's secondary account. According to the online log, the First to Find found it with the cache owner.

When we got home (the second time) last night, I went to bed and fell asleep right away. When our alarm clock woke me up this morning, I must have been dreaming because, for a few moments, I thought it was a different kind of alarm - like a burglar or smoke alarm.

How did we know the Second To Find was someone's secondary account? Because the geocacher has had an account for several months and has logged only four finds - but those four finds are a mix of easy and difficult puzzle caches, with no apparent geographic pattern. There are two other possibilities: They never log Did Not Finds (there are a lot of geocachers who don't) or they don't log all their finds online (there are geocachers who don't) - but the first possibility seems more likely.

After speaking with bilingual coworkers, I have come to realize that I'm learning Spanish in pretty much the normal path. In hindsight, it makes sense. Learning to hear a second language is more difficult than learning to read it, and learning to construct a sentence in a second language is a whole lot more difficult than comprehending what someone is saying.

A patient walked up to the front desk yesterday, when I was there by myself. He asked me if I speak Spanish. I told him that I do not, and then I called a Spanish-speaking coworker over. My coworker asked him what he needed, and the patient told her. Before my coworker had time to translate his question, I was already writing the number down, because I understood that the patient was asking for his Social Worker's phone number. I heard the patient speaking Spanish, and I understood him - I consider that a breakthrough. Now, if I were to ask someone, in Spanish, for Edgar's phone number, I could do it, but it would take a dictionary and some planning.

When I put Los Funerales de la Mamá Grande on hold last Thursday, I had hoped that it would get to me before class ends tomorrow. With the library's two copies on the shelves, and with no other holds placed on them, that didn't seem like a problem. When the weekend came and went, and my copy still "in transit," I began to wonder what was wrong. How long can it take to get a book from downtown Seattle to Capitol Hill? Meanwhile, I was physically checking the library's holding shelves, just to make sure. When the book still wasn't there when I checked on my way home today, I knew it wasn't going to make it in time. Then, this evening, at a half hour before closing time, I checked my account online. I had one book waiting to be picked up. I put on my shoes, walked up to the library, and picked up Los Funerales de la Mamá Grande. This is the first sentence, written by Gabriel García Márquez, that I have read in Spanish:

"El tren salió del trepidante corredor de rocas bermejas, penetró en las plantaciones de banano, simétricas e interminables, y el aire se hizo húmedo y no se volvió a sentir la brisa del mar."

I had to look up "trepidante" and "bermejas," and I'm still unclear what "no se volvió a sentir" means - but, my goodness, ¡Estoy leyendo una historia escrita por García Márquez!

There was something else I was going to write about in this morning's post, but I forgot what it was by the time I started to write. Now I remember: I have somehow acquired a subscription to Keyboard magazine. I can understand getting on someone's mailing list without my approval - that happens to me all the time. But how does one end up getting a magazine subscription without subscribing to it? When the first issue of Keyboard arrived last month, addressed to me by name, I thought it was a fluke - maybe a free issue by mistake. My second issue arrived yesterday. Now I'm wondering what it's all about. So far, I haven't been sent a bill for the subscription.

Phillip and I went geocaching this morning. We looked for, and found, six caches in the Mount Baker neighborhood. Actually, I'm not entirely sure what neighborhood it would be considered, but it's the area between Martin Luther King, Jr Way and Lake Washington, and within a few blocks, north or south, of the I-90 tunnel. There are some beautiful and artistic, small, parks in that area that I never knew about. This is one of the benefits of geocaching, for me.

After we were done geocaching, we went shopping at Grocery Outlet - the only store we use a shopping cart in. We love that store. My favorite purchase today was a 12-pack of Dad's Creme Soda for $1.99. There were more caucasians shopping there (the store at MLK and Cherry) then we'd ever seen before. (All that means to me is that people from other neighborhoods are discovering the place.)

Since I couldn't renew it online this time, I drove up to 85th yesterday morning to renew my drivers license. I got there about ten minutes before the place opened. There was already a line. I was number 007 and I was out with my new (temporary) license in ten minutes. I didn't have much time to start reading The Big Sleep, by Raymond Chandler. The photo on my new license make me look like I'm drunk. The coolest thing about my new license is - my signature is upside down! I hope that no one in the Department of Licensing notices it before they mail out my permanent license, because I like that upside down signature. It's like having a postage stamp with a printing error, only not as valuable.

Phillip and I haven't been geocaching in a couple of weeks, but we got together with BruceandRachel, who had invited us to go geocaching with them, yesterday. The four of us looked for, and found, five caches in the east Bellevue / Lake Hills / Crossroads area. We had lunch in Crossroads Mall (close to where my family lived when we first moved to the area in the mid 1970s). When we were first thinking about getting into geocaching, we were told by an experienced geocacher that geocaching is strictly a solo activity - caching with others just won't work. Yesterday was at least the sixth time we've gone caching with other geocachers, and we've had successful and enjoyable adventures each time.

BruceandRachel started geocaching in January of this year. They have 609 finds. (In contrast, we started in April 2005, and have 320 finds.) When we first noticed their name on geocaching logs, Phillip and I guessed that they were a retired couple, since they were finding geocaches at such a fast rate, they had to have a lot of free time. Then, at an Event, during the introductions portion, Bruce introduced himself to the crowd, and we saw that he was a guy younger than us. He was on the opposite side of the restaurant from us, and we never got the opportunity to go say hello. Yesterday, we learned that the team of BruceandRachel is a man and his 7 year old daughter - and that their names really are Bruce and Rachel. They are both fun people to geocache with.