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California continued!
One of my priorities when I am in California is to spend as much time as possible close to the ocean, so I was excited that our first day of activities included a trip to Avilla Beach. Unfortunately, however, it was not the calm, sunny day I had ordered up. It was pretty windy, but the ever-prepared Dave extracted three kites from his hidden reservoirs of fun, along with a plastic backpack filled with sand toys. Jim tried his hand at the boxy Sprite-kite; this one was so good it seemed impossible NOT to fly it. Dave flew a more traditional kite (can’t remember what that one was) and I got to fly the Barbie kite with the long, pink plastic tails. It was a lot of fun since it was something I don’t often do nowadays, and because I was flying it perfectly (something I don’t often do any day) ! I put this down to a combination of wind and skill, but I think it was mostly the wind.
The dauntless Michael rented a wet suit and surf board and hit the waves. By this time Jim was coming down with Michael’s cold, so he wisely opted out of this activity. It was pretty cold, but Michael played in the surf for quite a while, even though he “biffed’ it a few times. Debi kept a watchful eye (and camera) on Michael, Jane explored and Francie & Neil watched all activities from a comfortable bench.
Later Jim and I got into a “kite war” and he broke Barbie’s string! After carrying the sand toys around all afternoon, I decided to try some out, only to discover that they were sealed shut with inpenetrable plastic ties. They probably remain in that state to this day, as do many of the items I purchase. Anyone got a quick trick for opening CD and DVD cases?
When it came time to find a place to eat, Jane was the hero of the day. She insisted we try the restaurant at the end of the pier, and it proved to be a winner. On our way down the pier, we saw a platform filled to the brim with harbor seals. More were trying to get on, but it was pretty much filled to capacity. There was a little one on one end who seemed to be in danger of being bumped off, but he was still there when we traversed back down the pier after an excellent meal of fresh clam chowder & fish & chips.
The next day was Hearst Castle day, a must-see attraction for anyone visiting in the San Luis vicinity.
(Okay, Bob I tried to insert a link here to the Hearst Castle website, but it doesn’t show up in the ‘preview;)
I was excited for Jim to experience this, and I think he thoroughly enjoyed it. Willima Randolph Hearst constructed this edifice about 50 years ago in the hills of San Simeon. It was one of many homes he owned, but he loved entertaining guests, who included many of the era’s celebrities, there with the help of his mistress, actress Marion Davies. Many priceless art treasures and construction wonders are featured in the several offered tours. The tour starts with a panoramic movie (what do your call theaters where it seems you are right there?) of Hearst’s life and times. His architect was the amazing Julia Morgan, the first female architect in California. After the movie, we were bussed to the actual mansion complex. We had an excellent tour guide who kept us entertained with little known tidbits of information and was very personable. Mr. Hearst, it seems was the ruling monarch of this little kingdom, and imposed several rules on his guests. Though he stayed there with his mistress, no unmarried guests were allowed to cohabit. He didn’t allow sleeping in; he wanted his guests up and doing stuff. He did not allow food in the rooms, and the evening meal was a mandatory affair. Apparently, when you first arrived, you were seated near Mr. Hearst at the long dinner table. The longer you stayed, however, the further away became your placecard. A subtle hint, perhaps?
Our tour guide encouraged questions, ( I think he enjoyed showing off his knowledge), and I took full advantage of this. Halfway through the tour, while we were standing in the formal dining room, my brother, Dave whispered to me a question. I guess (according to him, at least) he asked, “Did he say anything about the chairs?” (meaning the old & uncomfortable appearing dining room chairs) But this is what I heard, “mmmmnnn chairs?” “What?” I returned. He repeated the question, with the same results. “What?” I asked again, “You want to know if I said something about the chairs?”
Again, he repeated, and this time I said, probably a bit too loudly “I can’t hear you!”
“You can’t hear me?” asked the tour guide. “I thought I was speaking loudly.”
“Yes, I can hear you,” I flustered, “But my brother….........uh,........the chairs….and I couldn’t hear him, and ….....uh…..Can you tell us about the chairs?” The chairs, it appears, were not antiques, and were, reportedly, comfortable.
On our drive back to San Luis, we stopped at the elephant seal beach. There are usually lots of elephant seals and harbor seals basking on the beaches there, and this day, fortunately for us, was not an exception. I’m not sure what the place is actually called. You are separated from the seals by a fence & railing, but are close enough. It was really cool.
I believe that evening we had dinner at Francie and Neil’s. Their kitchen was very well-stocked in anticipation of our visit, and Neil skillet-grilled hot dogs. There was also sliced ham, cheese, avocado dip and lots of chips and soda. Perfect.
The game-playing afterwards was a nightly ritual. Diminishing Whist, Hello Kitty Uno, Scooby Doo Monopoly. For the non-game players, there was a large selection of videos to choose from, and a playful Andre to entertain. Also a nightly ritual, it appeared, would be the presenting of the birthday gifts. Dave & Jane had gone all out and had some Harry & David gift box assortments, actually one for each night! I had been accumulating some small gifts for my adorable, totally-deserving-of-gifts sister, so I was able to hold my own in the “gift war”, all in fun, of course. Panther had a beautiful, original painting for Francie, but was afraid it wouldn’t travel well in luggage, and decided to mail it later. The gift de resistance was from all of us. It seems that many years ago (in a galaxy far, far away), Francie had asked her brother if he had Aunt Essel’s quilt. If so, and if he wasn’t going to use it, could she have it? Aunt Essel was our grandmother’s sister. The only memory of her I have is going to her hospital room in Texas shortly before she died. I think I was about 10 or so. I fainted in her hosptial room, apparently jealous of the attention she was receiving. Actually, I think it was the smell of some of the medications. As a child, I had a quilt on my bed that either she or my grandmother made, and I used it to oblivion. They were that sunburst, or starbust kind of pattern, like rays shooting out from the center to distant points along the borders of the quilt. Anyway, Dave remembered this long-ago conversation, and miraculously was actually able to find the quilt. We wrapped it up and presented it to Francie in Dave & Jane’s motel room near the end of the week. At first Francie didn’t recognize it, but as she became aware, she was overcome with emotion. I am so glad she has it now.
This vacation isn’t over yet, not by a long shot ! Stay tuned for more exciting San Luis adventures!

UltraMom

Michael’s Goin’ Surfin’, Surfin’ USA

Hearst Castle, the Infamous Neptune Pool. Word is that all the castle employees get to have a swim party there at the end of each season.

Near the pier at Avilla Beach. Isn’t the little one on the end cute?

Elephant Seals are big!

The Quilt

Guess what time it is? Yeah, I don’t know either since this daylight savings time started and all the clocks in my house tell me something different. But I do know this: It’s time to get back to my riveting California vacation!
When we last saw our travelers, they were approaching San Luis Obispo in the eerie hours of twilight. We were, in fact, in the twilight zone….....but we soon drove out of it and arrived at The Peachtree Inn, a very charming motel where we had stayed before. We checked in, dragged our luggage into the rooms, and then we were off to Francie and Neil’s house where a much anticipated meal of Neil’s homemade stew and San Luis Obispo sourdough bread awaited us. The reality of the meal proved to equal the anticipation, and this, coupled with the pleasure of no longer being in the van made my joy complete.
Francie and Neil Johnson have a charming home. It is in a kind of trailor park, though this doesn’t seem like the right word for it. There are rather strict requirements to live there, and most of the residents own their own lots. On a tour of the grounds, we saw two swimming pools, an exercise room, and a large room for meetings or family gatherings, complete with a couple of pool tables. Francie and Neil’s house is large and roomy and filled with white wicker furniture, large scratching post-cat trees and unique accessories. The focal point of the living room is a hanging basket chair that Francie brought back from the Phillipines many years ago. They share their home with 4 cats, but mostly we saw Miss Kitty and Andre the Giant. Miss Kitty is a delicate little gray female with a lot of courage. She has been known to stand up to Andre, about double her size. Shadow, a large gray male, recently underwent surgery,but is recovering nicely. Calico, a shy little tri-colored female, spent all her time when we were there under the bed, but I peeked in on her a time or two. Andre is the most recent arrival. Francie and Neil got him from the animal shelter. I guess he has made an amazing transformation from a scraggly, half-starved stray. I know that today he is a large, beautiful and entirely regal feline who looks to be mostly Maine-Coon Cat, and who rules the roost. Andre is prone to chase the other cats and be a bit of a bully. When he does this, Francie admonishes him, “Andre! Don’t be a “getter!” Panther and I really liked this phrase and used it a lot, sometimes to Andre, and sometimes to others who were behaving in an unseemly manner.
Back at our motel, we firmed up the sleeping arrangements. Dave & Jane had their own room, but me, Panther, Michael, and Jim were sharing a room with two double beds. Panther and I had no problem sharing one of them, but the boys weren’t as thrilled. Jim ended up sleeping on the floor with a sleeping bag borrowed from Francie. Michael amused us in the days to follow with cute little imitations of my snoring and Panther’s sleep-moaning, but Michael was no slouch in the snoring department himself. Anyway, I always slept well.
Part of the charm of The Peach Tree was the large Eucalyptus Tree with the heavy wooden swing, wide enough to hold two or three people. Michael was giving his mom a ride, and she asked if I wanted to join her. I agreed, but asked that he swing us a bit more gently than he had been doing. WARNING: The following may contain descriptions of blatantly stupid acts. View at your own discretion.
I sat in the swing crosslegged and prepared to be swung. But Michael was going for the gusto. He gave us a mighty “underdog” (you know, running under the swing while pushing), and I screamed in unreasoned terror. As the swing neared the ground, totally without my permission, my legs shot out and tried to stop the swing. This was a very bad idea, and soon I was screaming in agony, which seemed totally justified, as I felt searing pain down the back of my calves. I think I scared everyone else too. “Gee, Mom, why did you do that? That was really stupid!” asked my son in concern.
Michael was afraid I had broken my ankle, but I think I just did a number on my calf muscles. In fact, they are still sore, and when I run my hand along the right one, I can feel a large knot. I tried to explain to everyone that it was my darn legs acting on their own volition, but I don’t think they believed me.
Another, and in my opinion, better charm of the Peach Tree was their continental breakfast. Several varieties of bread with spreads, cereal, fresh fruit, hard boiled eggs and muffins were available in the breakfast room, which also contained a lap top computer, and lots of reading material. If one so desired, she could take her breakfast out on the porch. Often the resident cat would be out there curled up in its basket. Some of the staff left peanuts out on the railing for the birds, and it was fun to watch them fly up and take them away.
Next time: Fun at the Beach.

UltraMom

Jim, on the infamous swing

Panther in the swinging basket chair, a safer place to take a ride

Andre the Giant

Today is the first day of April, April Fool’s Day, if you will. I always think I should come up with a really good prank on this day, but either my imagination or my nerve always fail me. Mother Nature, however, has no such compunctions. Though Spring was officially here a week ago, there is still fresh snow on the ground, and the weather lately consists of snow, rain, wind or a fun combo of all three. UltraDad has also been known to have his little jokes, though not neccesarily on April 1. Shortly after we were married, he calmly came to me with his thumb all wrapped up in guaze. “I smashed my thumb,” he told me.
“Do you think I should have a doctor look at it?” Gingerly I took off the guaze to behold a split, swollen, bloody mess. “Yes you should see a doctor, you idiot. It looks infected! Now where’s that doctor’s phone number…........” I stared in bewilderment at a laughing UltraDad as he pulled off the fake, rubber thumb.
Another time, when my dog, Jeff was a puppy, UltraDad informed me that there was dog throw-up on the living room floor. “You’d better go clean it up,” he advised. Grumpily I grabbed the 409 and a roll of paper towels. “Why do I have to clean it up?” I muttered. “He’s your dog too.” I liberally sprayed the disgusting mass of half-digested food and tore off half a dozen paper towels. But when I tried to pick it up, the whole mass of vomit skittered across the floor. “It’s fake throw-up,” chortled UltraDad. “You should have seen your face when it slid. I put water on it to make it look more real.” Yes, it certainly did look real.
UltraDad used to tell me fantastic stories of his life before me, and before I knew better, I believed them all. I heard tales of deep-sea diving and snorkeling, but later found out he was afraid of the water and could barely swim. Even now I find myself occasionally believing something he tells me.

Tonight Ultra Dad is on one of his night shifts; we are excited because, with Daylight Savings Time starting, he will work one hour less tonight. I think he is even happier about it than I am.
I am having a weekend, but not accomplishing much, so I decided to post. That way, there is a record of my, indeed, accomplishing something. After all, here it is in black and white. Had a kind of scary email from Heather, the recent birthday girl. Seems the house she and Heath have been living in is chock full of dangerous black mold. The good news is they have found a new place and are moving. Johnny is in the Eastern US touring law schools. He likes Cornell, and has yet to see William and Mary and Vanderbilt. Would be nice if Cornell would give him some good financial aid. Jim just got back from a camping/fishing trip with friends. He caught no fish, and said it was really cold, but fun. I think he and I may have different definitions of the work “fun.” And Bob? Apparently all wrapped up in the construction of that new house of his.

My new prison store inmate clerk is working out very well. Sean is eager and capable, and calls me “Miss Kathy”, which I like. I am starting to learn how to better handle my ordering and inventory to make my monthly sales look better. The inventory needs to be way down at the end of the month; we are out of many popular items, such as Monster Honey Buns and Bearclaws, as well as frozen chicken, pizzas and some sodas. But all will be well Monday; with a new month, I can input all the new product we have already ordered and received. There are some very skillful workers among our prison population, and last week my store was the recipient of some of that labor. I knew there were plans in the works to take down the outer door and paint it; then do some work on the front storeroom walls. But apparently, after the door was removed, it was decided to move the freezer in front of the inner door to clear the walls. When the freezer bumped that door, it came right off the hinges! When I came to work, I found the large freezer blocking unwarranted entry to my store, with everyone assuring me that my inventory had not been compromised. The work crew came in, fixed the door, rewired an electrical outlet that had been causing problems, sheetrocked and painted the entire little storeroom. It looks amazingly good. Jon , the electrician, has twice been on the verge of being released to parole, only to have it revoked. The joke is they don’t want to let him go until he finishes the work on the camp! When my clerks were cleaning out the storeroom they came upon a handful of black, plastic spiders. They have been having a lot of fun with them, as some of their bunkmates are arachnophobics. Thankfully, I am not.
It is interesting, lately, trying to get inside the gate when I first arrive at work. There is a new policy that when you arrive, you must unlock the box inside the gatehouse and log in. Same thing when you leave, only in reverse. The problem is my key won’t unlock all the locks. The lock on the gate and the lock on the box appear identical, but my key only works on one of them. I never know if it will be the gate or the box, as they sometimes get interchanged. Everyone else’s key unlocks both, but won’t unlock the store, as mine does. It’s half funny, half annoying. I am assured the problem will be resolved soon.
Sean is up for parole soon. He was in a panic the other day; the caseworker told him to have his plans ready in a couple of days; he thought he had more time. Without a plan and a place to go to, he will definitely not get it, but would probably not get it anyway. His sentence is a long one, and more time will probably have to be served. Joe is trying to get “Drug Court”, which is a program that would enable him to attend Drug School and work while being under close supervision. An article recently appeared in a local newspaper about how our state leads the nation in least paroles granted. The inmates are hopeful that publicity and pressure may change that statistic in their favor.
Poor Crash has been fired from the Work Crew he was on for reportedly mistreating equipment. He has been helping in camp wherever he can, including in the store. Crash is strong, a good worker, and really enjoys going out on the Crews. After several weeks cooling his heels, he is supposed to be reinstated next week, and he can’t wait.

Murphy, the wonder dog, continues to impress and amaze. He has added the trick “Sleep” ( I don’t like “Play Dead”) to his sit-stay-rollover-when-I-have-a-treat repertoire. Polly, the ubercat, was left outside all night a couple of nights ago. When UltraDad found her at the door next morning, he said she was puffed up to twice normal size, and angrily huffed past him to her food dish. I wonder why I didn’t miss her nightly ritual of stomping across the bed pretending she didn’t know she was tromping on Murphy and settling on my chest?

Well, I think its time to bring this rambling post to an end. By the way, your shoelaces are untied, and there’s a spider on your face.

April Fools! (about the shoelace anyway; there really is a spider on your nose.)
UltraMom