All of a sudden, they're gone

We've been busy this winter in Tucson.

I took water aerobics at 8 a.m. three days a week. I played handbells on Tuesday, in preparation for three performances during the season. We had 12-step meetings on Tuesday and Wednesday evenings; one of those groups was new this year, started by me and two other people. On Wednesday I went to current events; the people in this group are a lively, politically diverse bunch, and we have learned to respect each other. Thursday was Great Decisions (a foreign affairs discussion group); I was the facilitator for this group for the third year.

Art had a lead role in our resort's Voyager Light Opera Company production of Oklahoma!, so he had rehearsals on Monday and Thursday afternoons, and spent lots of extra time working on his role, both alone and with others.

I was responsible for setting up and supervising a box office for Oklahoma! ticket sales. We recruited 15 volunteers to staff the box office for two months, Monday through Friday from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. We sold nearly 900 tickets from that box office. Art deposited the money at the end of each shift in the bank branch on the resort.

I'm also taking an online class by Brene Brown. And there is the usual grocery shopping, haircuts, pedicures, lunches out, a movie, visits with friends on the other side of Tucson, trips to the dentist in Nogales, Mexico.

During the three-month high season, we interacted with multiple people every day. Some of them became our friends. We bonded over common activities or common interests. The bonding happens quickly in our winter home.

Then came the end-of-season potlucks. We went to four of them. People say when they'll be leaving the park for home. Kathy said, "I usually stay into April, but I'm going home early so I can spend Easter with my family." JoAnne said, "We were planning on leaving next Monday, but we ran out of propane and the next delivery isn't until Tuesday, so we're going home tomorrow." Our neighbor Carl, who heads up the group that sets up chairs for the large events in the ballroom, said, "We're leaving on Wednesday." Marion said, "We're taking the long way home so we can see Bryce and Zion National Parks." The talk and laughter swirls around the tables as we celebrate another season together. 

And then Kathy isn't in water aerobics. And Dick and JoAnne's park model is dark when we walk their street at sunset. And Carl's car is covered in his carport. Our friends Marion and Mike leave on Monday. All of a sudden, they're gone. 

On April 21, someone will walk by our place on 4th Street and notice the blinds drawn and the deck furniture and bicycles put away. Because we'll be gone.

Until next year.

The man from "Oklahoma!" speaks

When I was in high school I played Liesl in "The Sound of Music" and was in the cast of "Camelot" and Agatha Christie's "Ten Little Indians".  In college I minored in drama and traveled to England to study theatre and see some of the world's finest actors. During college summers I performed in community theatre musicals. After college I directed a high school play and assisted directed a community college play. That was over 40 years ago. Participating in a theatrical production is a labor- and energy-intensive experience. Totally exhausting and exhilarating.

My husband Art had no theatre experience until last year, when he was cast as a gambler in "Guys and Dolls" at the Voyager RV Resort, where we live in the winter. He had two lines. He got that part without an audition, after we had already returned home to Seattle.

Two weeks after "Guys and Dolls" ended, Art auditioned for a part in "Oklahoma!", which was this year's production. He was cast as Will Parker - one of the three male leads. The play ran last week for two nights. Over 400 people attended each performance.

As it happens, we're now on a road trip to the real Oklahoma to attend a family wedding. After we settled into our motel room tonight, I asked Art to tell me how he got into acting. Here's his story.

*******

It was seeing "Pirates of Penzance" two winters ago at our park. You said, "You could do that. Would you like to try it?" And I said, "I suppose I can try." So I put my name on a list.

That summer the director sent me a notice saying that I was in the play "Guys and Dolls" and I was Angie the Ox. They sent me the script. It didn't look too bad. I only had two lines. I saw there were a bunch of songs I had to learn.

We got to the park in December and they had already started practicing. So we got the movie from Netflix so I could see what it was about. It was Frank Sinatra and Marlon Brando. They had a lot of dancing in that one.They always have more dancing in the movies. And they had more verses to the songs. I'm glad our play didn't have all the verses. So I got to see where things were, but I didn't know who I was!

We met with Al, the director. He took over because the original director had some personal problems and had to go home. So everybody welcomed me and showed me how to, you know, write in pencil on the script where we enter and where we leave the stage. So we could practice that.

The practicing went on for a couple of months, but it was a little frustrating because the director kept changing the blocking and we never knew which set of blocking they wanted to do on a specific day.

We had practice three times a week and there was, you know, camaraderie with the people in the play. I could see that the main stars had a lot of lines. I was glad I had just two, because I was having trouble with them!

Anyway, the play came off as a big hit. I thought one of the best things about it was Kathy and Mac doing the Spanish dance. It was really outstanding.

After "Guys and Dolls" was over they had a day for tryouts for "Oklahoma!", the next year's play, and I went down to the rehearsal room and there was hardly anybody there. Maybe two other people. Diane, the new director, was there with Dee, the stage manager. They gave me a script and wanted me to read it. And then to sing something. I don't remember what I sang. Maybe I sang the humility song. I don't know.

In July we got notification of our parts, along with the script and the CDs. And it was real scary, because instead of 2 lines I had 43, plus a solo and a duet.  I had the CD for the songs. They were pretty easy to learn because I had the CD in the car and whenever I went anywhere I got to learn it along with everybody else who was riding with me!

I tried to learn the lines but I didn't quite follow what was going on in the story. We went on the internet and watched the play version on uTube so I could get the story line. There was a lot more dancing in the play. I didn't think I was going to be able to do the part.

We got to the park in December and they had already been practicing for a month. I knew the songs fairly well but I was really strung out on the lines. The director gave me a URL of a site to learn how to learn my lines, and the only thing I didn't do was do flashcards.

We practiced a few times with the scripts so that we could read the lines rather than trying to go from memory. But some of the cast members had their lines down pat already, so I had to practice. In January I'd wake up in the middle of the night and try to go over the lines.

People were quitting right and left. I told one of the guys that I knew from the year before, "I don't think I'm going to make it. I'm having troubles with the lines." And he said, "Well, you can't quit. You're the only one with a bad enough voice to sing Will's solo." (laughs) So we just did practice and more practice. We rented the original film of "Oklahoma!" And it was a lot better, and I could see my part and what they were doing a lot better than the newer version. But I was still waiting for all the women, so I could grab them and kiss them like they did in the movie, which wasn't even in our script!

Some of the cast were just outstanding, and some other people had trouble with their lines. Everybody was helping everybody, and some people stepped in when others couldn't remember their lines. And it was just amazing that they could pick it up. From the first practice I saw that Mary, who played Ado Annie and was with me on the duet, was just outstanding. I found out later that she had done a lot of chorus line work, but this was a big step up for her because she had a part with words!

Two weeks before the show people started getting sick, which wasn't a good sign. People were missing practice because they were deathly ill. But the director hit upon the spots where we were really weak, and boosted them up. And the thing started really to jell, and then we started having fun.

I thought I was the only one who was messing up my lines, but the closer we got to the days of the play, the more people started dropping their lines. But when it came to opening night, they just seemed to get into it. I know that me and Ado Annie were practicing two or three times a week to get down our parts.

The opening night was a little scary because we hadn't practiced that much on the stage and people were kind of bumping into each other. We had been working in another room because the room with the stage wasn't available until the last two weeks before the play. But it came off okay. (laughs). Friday night, though, everything just came together from all directions, and everything was just in shape. Yeah. Everybody was just having so much fun, and the "oops" that we had on Thursday night were taken care of and people knew what they had done and it was ironed out. It was really something else. A lot of fun.


Tryouts for next year's production are next week. Art will be there.

Sometimes we need to wait

When the Voyager RV Resort (the park where we live in the winter) came into being back in the 80s, internet access was not an issue. But in recent years, adequate internet service has been an ongoing problem. Before wireless internet was available, we were told that faster internet would require the installation of eight miles of T-1 lines, which would be prohibitively expensive.

For many of the 3,000+ snowbirds who live here in the winter, slow internet service is almost a deal breaker. The service in our park model (trailer) was pretty good for our first three winters here. But we're most likely in a fortuitous location, because I have friends whose service was so bad they had to take their laptops or tablets to the lobby of the on-site restaurant to access the internet. The situation was especially difficult for those who work from their RV or park model.

When we arrived in December there was a lot of aggravated chatter in the park's email and Facebook groups about the inadequacy of the internet service. Some unkind remarks were directed at the park manager and the internet provider, Jabba Communications, because the Voyager currently has a contract provision with Jabba that no other company can install equipment inside the park. Several people threatened to notify the FCC. Finally, in early February, a competitor, Bluespan, was allowed in the park, because they were not installing "equipment" as defined in the Jabba contract. Now we have a choice of two wireless internet providers - Bluespan and Jabba - and people are happy.

Sometimes we need to wait for technology to catch up with our needs.

We called the Bluespan people and they installed a device on our roof. The technician, Steve, told me we needed a new router to optimize the service to the two laptops, two Kindles, two phones and one television in our 620-square-foot park model. I set off for Target to acquire a Netgear 600 router.

As usual, I wandered around in the electronics section, hoping for a knowledgeable employee to appear. A young woman approached. "Can I help you?" I told her what I needed and she led me to the correct shelf. She told me what a router does, and the differences between the various Netgear models. I understood exactly what she said, in contrast to what the tech guy, Steve, had told me, which sounded like a long, rapid string of some indecipherable language ending with "you need a Netgear 600 router."

I asked the young woman her name - "Jessica" - and told her I was impressed with how well she had explained the technical stuff to me. "Well," she said, "I am a geek at heart." I told her I'm always impressed when I'm helped by a knowledgeable woman - especially in electronics departments and hardware stores! She laughed. "I have a troop of young Girl Scouts, and I'm introducing them to STEM so they can learn to be independent."

(My Google search tells me that "STEM is an acronym for Science, Technology, Engineering and Math education. We focus on these areas together not only because the skills and knowledge in each discipline are essential for student success, but also because these fields are deeply intertwined in the real world and in how students learn most effectively.")

I was impressed and gratified that Jessica will have such a positive impact on her Girl Scout troop. And glad she consented to have me take her picture as she sold me the router.

Jessica

I'm feeling very good about the Voyager and Bluespan. And I'm feeling great about Jessica and others like her who are guiding and encouraging girls to become competent, independent women.

I'm thinking we've waited long enough.

A walk in my park

Last week I bought a new fitbit. The old one was like a little charm and I carried it in my pocket, and of course I lost it someplace. The new one is like a bracelet. So far I haven't lost it.

I decided to set a goal of walking 10,000 steps a day. For me that's about four miles. I've noted that on a normal day here in Arizona, when I'm walking to the activities center a couple of times plus around the house, I cover about 4,500 steps. That means I need to add about 5,500 steps - a little over two miles - to reach my goal.

Yesterday afternoon at around 4 I took a walk in this park, where we live in the winter. It's a 29-acre place with 600 spaces for RVs and 976 park models (trailers), either privately owned or rented out by the park. In the winter 4000 retirees live here, and, in the summer, about 700.

In the first block of 4th Street, where we live,  I passed Ronnie and Tom's park model. Well, just Tom's now; Ronnie passed away in December at age 68 after a mysterious three-week illness. Everyone thought it would be 92-year-old Tom who would be first. It looks like Tom has a daytime companion now rather than his partner of 20 years. I said hello and Tom and his companion waved.

I turned left on Quail. I was in the pet section now, where hundreds of people live. I always pass people walking their dogs. Even folks using walkers or canes are out and about. If I'm in a conversational frame of mind, I compliment the person on their dog. We live in the non-pet section, where dozens of cats live quietly indoors, looking for an opportunity to escape through an open screen door and explore the neighborhood. Our Larisa has only gotten out once this season, but she took three hours to find her way back to her food dish.

I turned right on 3rd Street. My friends Mer and PJ live near the end of the block. Two years ago, when Art had his cardiac arrest playing pickleball, PJ drove me to the hospital and Mer sat with me in the waiting room for five hours. People here are very friendly and helpful. We all watch out for each other. I thought about stopping in as I passed their house - both their car and their golf cart were in the driveway - but decided against it. It's common here to just knock on people's doors when you want to see them, but it's still a little awkward for me. I have never been to most of my friends' homes in Washington; I meet up with them for coffee or lunch instead. As it turned out, Mer arrived at our place on her bicycle this morning and we had a nice chat.

At the end of 3rd Street I turned left, walked a block, then turned left onto 5th. I didn't realize my friend Susie lived on that street until I saw her in her driveway. Susie picked up C. diff a few weeks ago from some unknown place. She's on her third antibiotic - and this one is new and not available generically and it costs $5,000 for 20 pills. OMG! Susie sounded discouraged and, of course, she is sick of being sick.

I continued up 5th Street. I was looking for Scott Kline's trailer. When Art had his cardiac arrest, Scott was on the scene immediately, sent someone to find an AED, then used it on Art to shock his heart back to life. As soon as the EMTs arrived, Scott left the scene. I've wanted to thank him ever since then for saving Art's life, but I've never run into him again.

I turned right onto Quail and walked three more blocks, then turned left onto 11th Street, where I ran into Hanna and Peter. Hanna is my occasional moviegoing companion and friend, and Art and I are indebted to Peter because last year he tuned up both our bicycles. They'd been on an eight-mile hike and were picking up their dog from the sitter. We always chat when we see each other; they are from British Columbia, and Hanna claims I'm one of the only sane Americans she knows!

While we were talking I saw my handbell director, Ken, drive by on his scooter. He's new to the park this year and he is a fine, calm, encouraging director. He's one of the reasons I decided to go back to handbells midway through the season. He was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants; yesterday, at our performance in church, he wore a suit and tie.

 I walked all the way down 11th Street to the edge of the park. I met a woman walking her Westy. I commented what a pretty dog he was. She said, "He's been lazy since he was a puppy, and he's blind now." The dog took his cue and lay down in the middle of the street! Still, he was a beautiful white dog.

I passed Dee's house. She's the producer of the Voyager Light Opera Company's show this year, "Oklahoma!" We've had a number of talks about the play, ticket sales and other life happenings. She's a new friend this year. And, right next door, my friend Eve. Like a small town, you know, I go by a house and I know who lives there. Well, I really don't know because I've never lived in a small town. But maybe this place in Tucson is one, after all.

I walked along the park fence and turned left to 1st Street, passing by where my friends Bob and Sue live. They take care of our trailer during the summer - and 60 other places. We pay them $30 for each month we're gone. Very good for us and, multiplied by 60, for them.

Two doors down is the Oklahoma! box office: a park model owned by Dee's father-in-law. I'm responsible for the volunteers and ticket sales this year. We're open Monday through Friday from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. As of today we've sold 697 tickets out of a thousand, with 14 days to go. We'll get there.

I turn right on the main park road, walk three short blocks and turn right onto 4th, my street. Just about 3,000 steps. Not too bad.

One week bad, the next week good. How come?

When I look at the calendar for the week before last, it looks a lot like last week's. Wait. The week before last I had activities on only two evenings, and last week I had them five evenings in a row. So why was last week  better?

It wasn't that I had less time to myself the first week, or that its goings on weren't as interesting. I need to figure this out.

Here's what happened in Week 1:

• Monday - Started a five-day week of coordinating volunteers to staff the Oklahoma! box office. Everyone was present and accounted for. 
• Tuesday - Got an afternoon massage.
• Wednesday - Attended Current Events, one of my favorite activities.
• Thursday - Facilitated my Great Decisions discussion group on the future of Kurdistan.
• Friday - Spent seven hours going to the dentist in Nogales, Mexico, including travel time. Got a crown removed, tooth confirmed not needing a root canal, and new crown prepared and installed, and a nightguard mold created.

Two events at home in Washington that were completely out of my control, so I could do nothing about either of them.

By Friday evening I was anxious and stressed, and by Sunday I was sufficiently wound up to call a friend to listen to me vent. She reminded me that moods come and go and that "this too shall pass".

And in Week 2:

• Monday - For the five-day box office week, replaced one sick person with a substitute. Facilitated a different Great Decisions group as a stand-in for their traveling leader. Attended a CPR class in the evening and got to prove once again that I know how to do it correctly on a dummy. I did it on a real live person two years ago and I will never forget the procedure.
• Tuesday - Had to cancel my afternoon massage because our Prius was at the dealer getting its water pump replaced. We have only one vehicle here, and it would have cost nearly $50 for a transportation alternative. Started back up with handbells, which I'd decided not to do this year. I was persuaded by a friend in that group to come back. We have a new director, the music is easy and fun!
• Wednesday - Spent three hours with the friend of a friend preparing her for a divorce mediation next week in Texas. The session was as intense as any I have done in Washington.
• Thursday - Spent four hours going to the car detailing place and waiting for the Prius to become beautiful on the inside. Facilitated my Great Decisions discussion group on international migration. Attended a small group meeting at church in the evening.
• Friday - Had a free day except for opening the box office. Went out to dinner with friends.

As I compare these two weeks, I note that I was busier in Week 2, and things were more hectic. However - and this is a good insight for me - I felt better about it. 

That might be because, in Week 1, I was powerless over the things going on at home in Washington.

Yep. I am still powerless. I hate it when that happens. Especially when I realize the reason for the stress and anxiety as I am writing my blog post about it! This business of stressing over things over which I have no control has bitten me for decades. You'd think I would have figured it out by now.

Or maybe not. As I listen to friends, many of the issues that trouble them are things over which they have no control. It may be money or vehicles or parents or children or management or a cold spell or a heat wave or endless rain - but the aggravation is there.

Guess we're all in this powerlessness thing together.

It's been two years!

This is a post from two years ago. I still remember like it was yesterday.


Last Monday evening, at the last minute, Art and I took a refresher CPR course at our resort. It's gotten simpler through the years. Now, if there's a witnessed cardiac arrest, CPR is chest compressions only. If a person's heart stops beating suddenly, there's oxygen already in the blood. The chest compression squeezes the heart to pump the oxygen to the vital organs of the body. The thinking these days is that the "two quick breaths" doesn't increase the chances of survival. I did my practice on a dummy under the watchful eye of a second-year University of Arizona medical student. Then we were shown how to operate an AED, a defibrillator that talks the user through the procedure, from placing the pads correctly, to running the analysis, to generating the shock if necessary. We were given the locations for the five defibrillators on the resort. Then we walked home.

Yesterday after lunch, Art and I rode our bicycles over to the pickleball courts to try our hand at this new sport. He was winning 10-8. He walked to retrieve the ball and suddenly clutched his left knee and approached the bench on the side to sit down. He had that knee replaced two summers ago and I was concerned he might have wrenched the appliance. I sat down beside him. "Does your knee hurt?" Art shook his head. "Does anything hurt?" He didn't answer. I looked at his face and it didn't look right. Out of my 65-year-old brain floated the questions you ask a person you suspect may be having a stroke. Can they repeat a complete sentence you give them? Can they smile? Can they raise both their arms? Art repeated the sentence faintly. Then he slumped into me.

I looked up. At the end of the pickleball court, half a dozen men were chatting. "Call 9-1-1",  I shouted. First step, remembered from my CPR training five days earlier.

I could see most of the men running toward me. "Let's get him on the ground," one said. Art resisted a little, but he was transferred from the bench to the ground by three of the men. He was breathing, gasping a little. One of the men said, "I'm a retired fire chief. The AED is on  the way." Someone had run 100 feet to retrieve one of the five defibrillators.

"Start CPR," said the chief. "He's still breathing," I responded. "You're not supposed to do it when they're breathing."

Then he wasn't breathing. No chest rising and falling, no pulse. Art was in cardiac arrest; his heart had stopped. I placed my hands over my husband's chest and started CPR. I thought his chest felt exactly like the dummy I'd practiced on. I paced myself for 100 compressions a minute, remembering the song "Staying Alive" which has the beat I needed to match.

The chief tore Art's t-shirt off, opened the AED box and extracted the shock pads. He placed one pad at the top left of Art's chest, the other at the bottom right. He pushed a button and the machine said, "Analyzing."

I was still doing CPR. A man standing over me said, "Want me to spell you?" I said, "I'm okay for now, but if you help, you need to kneel on the other side of his body to be ready to take over for me."

The AED said, "prepare to execute shock". The machine will only shock if there is no heartbeat or an arrhythmia that can be fixed. We pulled away and Art was shocked. His body jerked, drool oozed down the side of his mouth, and he opened his eyes.

He was alert as to place and time. The men remained with him until the paramedics arrived. The chief told the EMTs what had happened and passed the responsibility on to them. Then he said, "I'm going back over to the pool." I called to him and asked his name. Scott. A resident of the resort. I didn't get his last name. I need to thank him.

Art was transported to the University of Arizona Medical Center South Campus and I arrived by car about 45 minutes later. A cardiologist would be doing a cardiac catheterization. The procedure would take about an hour, he said. If they found anything they would probably fix it while they were in there. If a stent or a bypass was needed they would do it then. An hour later, the doc came out. "The best possible news. His arteries are clear. He did not have a heart attack."

In ICU for 15 hours, all the tests were run. Echocardiogram showed no damage to the heart. Blood work showed very low potassium levels, which is probably the cause of the cardiac arrest. Within six hours of admission Art's heart rhythm returned to normal; it has remained that way for 20 hours now. Potassium levels are now normal. Art is eating like a horse, texting friends, talking to visitors. He may be released tomorrow.

My husband's heart stopped. CPR performed by me kept the blood flowing to his vital organs until the AED shocked his heart back to life. Amazing.

I have no idea how I remembered CPR. It seemed natural to be kneeling there on the ground ministering to my husband. I felt no fear.

Then this morning I woke up at 4:00 a.m., full of fear and unable to go back to sleep. The adrenaline that kept me going had worn off.  It has been a busy day - six more hours at the hospital, talking to doctors, talking to five of our eight children by text and by phone, answering emails from concerned friends, remembering to eat from time to time.

I am very tired tonight. I hope I will sleep.

I saved a life. That's CPR in the real world.


Two years later, Art is thriving. This year, at our winter home in Tucson, he's playing Will Parker in our resort's production of Oklahoma! His pacemaker is working well. He takes potassium and reminds himself to drink plenty of water. He's had no aftereffects from his cardiac arrest.

We've spoken to groups a couple of times about the lifesaving effects of CPR. If everyone knew how to do it, many more lives could be saved.

Life is good.

Our Timeshare Dilemma

We bought our first timeshare fifteen years ago. It's in Whistler, British Columbia at Whiski Jack at the Cascade Lodge. It's a one-bedroom place that we can use for a week each year in either the spring or the fall.

We have never used our Whistler timeshare. Instead, we have traded it through one of the international timeshare pools. You "bank" your week and then you have access to everyone else's banked week for a nominal exchange fee. Through our Whistler timeshare we - or someone in our family - have spent time in Vermont, Hawaii, Williamsburg and Shenandoah in Virginia, Baja California, Las Vegas, West Yellowstone, the Washington coast, and Sedona. At the present time, we have three years of our Whistler timeshare banked. We are trying to figure out how to use the weeks, because they expire after three years.

We bought our second timeshare, in Sedona, Arizona, about nine years ago. With one of our banked Whistler weeks we traded into the Arroyo Roble Resort, on the banks of Oak Creek. We loved the place. When we got home, we bought a week of our own there, in what's called the "aftermarket"; someone wanted to sell their week, so we bought it for an excellent price.

At Arroyo Roble, we get seven days each year in a two-bedroom, 2.5-bath condo. Plus, during January and February we can combine last year's week and this year's, for a two-week stay or the use of two units in the same week, like for a group gathering. We have never banked our Sedona timeshare; in fact, we're there this week, with friends John and Joan visiting for three days and our daughter Melissa and son-in-law Scott for another three.

Then we have timeshare points through Shell Vacations Club. We can use our points at numerous resorts; usually we go to the Big Island in Hawaii, but we've also visited Kauai, Whistler, Napa, Las Vegas, the Oregon Cascades, Puerto Vallarta, Mexico and Ontario, Canada. Right now we need to use about four days of time by the end of March or we will lose them or have to bank them.

We have too many timeshares. For one thing, we like to travel rather than going to one place and staying a week (except Sedona, which offers endless opportunities for beauty and experiences). For another, we now have a park model (trailer) in Tucson, where we spend four months in the winter. These days it feels like the timeshares are an obligation - a burden, almost - and we have to keep track of dates by which we have to use the timeshares to avoid losing them. For example, right now we're using last year's Sedona week. We'll need to come back again by February 2017 to use this year's week. As we get older, keeping track seems more complicated.

Then there are the maintenance fees. We pay about $2000 a year total for our three timeshares. We set an amount aside each month during the year to pay the fees, which all come due in December or January. This year our mail hasn't been forwarded to Tucson consistently by the USPS, so our payment to Shell was late and we got charged a late fee. From now on we'll be sent our bill electronically, but still....

So, we're thinking about what to do about our timeshares.

Originally I thought we should divest ourself of the Sedona timeshare, since we're already in Arizona in the winter, when we have customarily used it. But we've enjoyed ourselves so much this week with friends and family, we've decided we want to keep it. Even daughter Melissa says, "This is a great place. Don't sell it." So I suspect this is one we'll want to pass along to the next generation. She and Scott have visited us here twice, and so has our daughter Laura.

As long as we enjoy Hawaii, the Shell points are the best way to go. We have a place on the Big Island where we live quietly for a week or two. We've explored most of the Big Island, and we often have guests with us, so we get to show them around.

That leaves the Whistler place. We've decided to let it go, but we have to find a buyer. Timeshares are a depreciating asset, which is not a problem. But the maintenance fees are a continuing expense. If we use the timeshare it's worthwhile. If we don't, it's not. And if we simply decided not to pay the fees, it would affect our credit.

So we will be looking for a buyer for the cost of the transfer of ownership - about $500. There are places we can advertise, and services that will do the work for us. Selling our Whistler timeshare is near the top of my project list for spring.

Once we have only the two timeshares we use, our dilemma will be resolved. For now.

We have several trips planned for this year: to a wedding in Oklahoma in March; to Buffalo in July (just me); to Maine in September (our wonderful schooner cruise); to the Big Island in November. We'll feel better if our Whistler timeshare belongs to another family by then.