Monday, August 27

Postcard from Temecula Creek


Golf. I could play every day. I can’t wait for golf season to start.

I hadn’t played in five weeks and boy, did my game show it! I was ready to throw in the towel at #15. But I hung in there, and I played the next day too. I scored much better the second day, even though I was stiff and sore from the day before. My old bones and joints sure ain’t what they used to be. A good reminder that we have to keep moving—you can’t sit around or you’ll freeze up.

Temecula is in a beautiful area with lots of live oak trees and giant boulders. It was pretty hot out there, but not nearly as hot as in the desert right now.

We felt the earthquakes last night—being in an earthquake in a motorhome that is wiggly to begin with is a different experience—It felt like someone was rocking the box back and forth. It was a small quake and far away; chances are we would not have even felt it if we were in a brick ‘n mortar structure.

Tomorrow we have to get the motorhome ready to roll home and store. We’re going to ride together and then we’ll return the next day to pick up the car. It’s just too hard for one person to drive all that way alone. It’s a drag and it’s costly, considering the mileage my SUV gets, but you need that second set of eyes.

I’ll miss the coast. It has been lovely here. See you back home in the land of triple digits. Then we only have a week before we leave on another trip.

Wednesday, August 22

Brand New Day, Brand New Attitude


Yesterday I was in a funk. I wrote about the theft of my wedding rings and the keying of JJ’s car. It was cathartic to write about it.

Yesterday I didn’t feel like doing much. I wouldn’t say I felt sorry for myself, but I didn’t have any gumption. My chi was low.

No matter what negative things happen to you and around you on your journey, life continues to flow. JJ suggested we go out to happy hour—it had been the plan, but I was still kinda punky. But I took a shower, put on clean clothes, and said, “Let’s do it. Enough with the blahs.” We had a nice time—uneventful, but pleasant. I had mussels and garlic cheese bread; J had crab cakes, which I love, but I’m allergic. On the way home we stopped for gas and I went in the market to check it out because it said “MEAT” on the sign, and I wanted to see what they had. It was an old, rather dilapidated place, privately owned, which in this day of bright mega chains must be nearly impossible to keep going, especially given the economy.

Anyway, there was an old man inside with long white hair and old clothes pushing a wheelchair that held a severely brain-damaged/disabled young man. He was skin and bones and so twisted up that only his one eye stared at the ceiling. I immediately changed my attitude to one of gratitude.

My rings are just things. Big deal--I can get new ones. There are a lot of people who have real loss. Like the young woman who lost some body parts when she fell into a river or the model who walked into a propeller. How about the many people who lost lives and loved ones in the senseless cinema shooting in Colorado. And let’s not forget our wounded warriors. Never forget them.

Closer to my heart, my golfing friend Linda is caring for her husband who is suffering with inoperable brain cancer. My blog-friend Nellie recently lost both breasts to cancer. Another blog-friend, Sophie, still teeters with unsecure employment. My dear sister lost her beloved 13-year-old grandson Daniel Monday. He didn’t die, but he was removed from their home because he suffers from mental problems that haven’t been figured out yet and my sister can no longer manage him and his increasingly violent nature. She’s heartbroken.

Real loss. And these are just a few.

Have a great day, I know I will.

Tuesday, August 21

Karma? Luck? Shit Happens?

Sunday we went to beautiful Balboa Park to the Old Globe Theater. The Old Globe is a replica of the one in Stratford-on-Avon where Shakespeare staged his plays. Well, not exactly, the original replica was burned down (arson) in 1978 and replaced by a modern version that is much larger.


There are three theaters in this complex, the one we went to was a small “theater in the round.” It was great—you felt like you were in someone’s living room.


JJ and I love the theater, we used to be season ticket holders, but we have not been since we left the Southland for the central coast, 13 years ago. So this was exciting and made us even more anxious to buy a condo in the area.

When we returned to our car, we found it had been “keyed,” from front to back on one side.


Heartbreaking, yes, but it can be repaired. Who would do such a thing. For no apparent reason. The hate that lives in people’s hearts astounds me.

Nonetheless, we soldiered on and went to the Gaslamp District in downtown San Diego. We had an early dinner at Croce’s, a favorite of ours. It’s Jim Croce’s wife’s place and consistently creative and exquisite.


We shared the Baked brie with honey-roasted garlic and berries appetizer, which is out of this world.


Outside Croce’s (you can see the reflection). Sorry this is a crappy photo but I took it with my phone, which I am not very good at. A dog is driving the car unassisted. Only in California.

The next day JJ spent most of the day on the phone dealing with the insurance company about repairing the car while I played a game on the computer. A knock came at our motorhome door and a very nice man said he saw the For Sale sign in the window and was interested to buy it. We invited him in and showed him around, and he took pictures to show his wife. He made us an offer very near our asking price, and said he’d meet us at our bank to make the deal when we got the pink slip. We shook hands and he left. JJ said he didn’t think we’d ever see him again—something didn’t smell right. About three minutes later I remembered I had left my rings in the little dish by the sink in the bathroom. Of course they were gone. I was with him when he looked in the bathroom, but I didn’t see him take my rings.

truck 2

Here is a picture of the thief and his accomplice when he was caught on the surveillance camera entering the campground. It was a Monday afternoon and very quiet around the park—most people were probably at the races or Legoland. The receptionist was very helpful, he had noticed the truck and and helped us make a description to the police. He told us we were lucky—much worse things have happened to unsuspecting people selling motorhomes. We filed a police report, but I doubt I’ll ever see my wedding rings again. It was hard to feel sad because I felt so stupid.

I have removed the For Sale sign from the window and we are both much wiser. Much. Well, I hope so, anyway.

Thursday, August 16

Ding ~ Pizza’s Ready!

Before we left the desert we took Savannah to a children’s discovery museum. It was very hands-on and scaled to kid-size, and they had a play store with little shopping carts, and a pizza shop where the little tykes could make a pizza, bake it in the brick “oven,” and ring up the sale.


This pizza cost one hundred and sixty seven million dollars and Michelle didn’t have enough money, so Savannah gave away for free the pizza to a stranger who was sitting at one of the tables in the pizza shop. We all had a good chuckle over that logic. It made perfect sense to Savannah.

Now, we are “cee-ment camping” in our little animal cracker box in Oceanside, a short walk to the beach, but we can’t see the ocean from here because the raised train track is in the way. We have shade until about 3:00, when the afternoon sun blasts into our spot.


I stuck a For Sale Sign in the window, but we have had nary a nibble, despite the fact that there are several rented rigs here. We considered leaving the rig in Oceanside and driving a short distance to this campground every year, but we thought it through and we prefer the idea of spending summers in a brick ‘n mortar condo. Beach sand isn’t that important to us.

A short walk past the lagoon and under the railroad tracks brings us to Buccaneer Café. JJ gets his coffee here and sometimes we get breakfast.


Directly across the street from this joint is a public beach called Buccaneer Beach. I say public because, today, it’s mostly houses and condos that line the coast and there are precious few openings to the beach for pedestrians. When I lived here (30 years ago) it was wide open on the beach-side of the street. Nowadays, you’re lucky to find an opening where you can see the ocean. This place actually has a parking lot and a large grassy area if sand isn’t your thing.


Surfers use the beach in the morning when the surf is up, and in the afternoon it’s designated for swimming—no surfing allowed. A couple dudes are studying the waves. They look at the shape, and count the sets and know when to paddle out. If memory serves, the waves build in intensity until the seventh wave (usually) and then the energy is spent and it starts over again. In the afternoon this quiet little beach will be teeming with people and all their beach stuff.

Sunday, August 12

Campin’ Kinda

We are parked in our motorhome in Paradise by the Sea RV Resort near Buccaneer Beach, Oceanside, California, USA.



It’s warm for the beach, mid-80s, but it beats the 115 degrees we would be enduring in the desert. It’s hot all over the southwest. I think it’s supposed to cool down to normal next week, which, for the beach, means 70s.

Our daughter Michelle and granddaughter Savannah are out from Connecticut, and second-daughter/more-than-a-friend Holly is here, too. Yep, we’re all sleeping in Rover. We have family here in San Diego County and we all got together for dinner and a family snapshot last night. JJ and Jack, the other male in the back, are first cousins.


So that’s what we’ve been up to. In our tiny little manse are more shoes than I can count, plus a Dora the Explorer backpack, dolls, stuffed animals, clothes, and purses to trip over. It’s a minefield.

We hope to sell the RV because we hate to drive it, and if we can sell it we’ll buy a little condo in Carlsbad—much more our speed. But we are considering storing at the coast and just driving the car home, and coming back next summer. It is a much less expensive option than buying a piece of real estate near the coast, and we already own it.

Friday, August 3

This ‘n That

I’ve been busy getting the motorhome ready to roll. We took it out and washed it—of course it rained that day. It rains like five days a year here. It didn’t get wet, we got it back in it’s covered storage bay before it rained, but we COULD have left it out in the rain to wash off the roof before we washed it. By the way, washing a motorhome is a big deal. I was stiff and sore for two days.

Believe it or not, we don’t have water-shortage problems here. How can that be, with the drought situation all over the land and all the golf courses and resorts we keep green and lush? Well, there are underground springs—as in Palm Springs? Yep, that’s where we get our water for irrigation, and so far there’s plenty of it. Drinking water comes from the Colorado River and the California Aqueduct.

But back to rolling the motorhome. We’re going over to the coast for three weeks, I wish it could be longer but [other people’s] schedule SNAFUs made it what it is. We’ve got lots of fun things planned for our time there, one of them being GOLF!  YESSS! I’ve got some golf games scheduled and I’m going to take some lessons at the Carlsbad Golf Center.

Okay, so this picture is of Torrey Pines. Close enough.
Torey Pines south

We’ve been doing a lot of this:
Well, ONE of us has been glued, the other one is in and out. I am married to a certified sports NUT. Anything with a score in it. He’s in Hog Heaven right now, flipping back ‘n forth to golf.

I haven’t been doing a lot in the studio, we’re having problems with the AC out there and it’s too hot to work. We’ve had the AC boys out three times and it just doesn’t get cool enough…like it did BEFORE we got the new air conditioner!

But I did manage to get the pillow done that goes with Andrew’s quilt.
I IMG_7134

I love the jaunty diagonal stripe. I’m a little disappointed in how loose it is though, the directions said to make it 1” larger than the pillow and I almost didn’t have enough fabric to make it 1/2” larger, and it’s still loose! I think a lot of it is how the crummy pillow insert is made—there ain’t nothing in the corners, no matter how much you shush it. I could turn it inside out (it has a zipper) and make it smaller, but then the stripe would be off and it’s perfectly centered to the corners—I don’t know how THAT happened. Luck.

That’s Raven on the left, I cannot for the life of me make up my mind whether to put that charcoal binding on it or turn the edges. Here’s another picture just for drill since I’m standing nearby with my camera. I positively can NOT get a clear, sharp photo of this thing. Maybe it’s my eyes.


Well, that’s all the news. Weather is beautiful today.