A Postcard from the Central Coast


Rayman at Industrial Eats.

15 minutes ago, I was busy composing blogs in my head and thought to myself, “Gee.  I should write a blog.”  So I unplugged my machine and brought it to bed with me so I could pontificate from the pillow.  But the computer wouldn’t start up as it usually does.  After 15 minutes of effort, I was getting ready to give up, and voila.  The computer started up.  What is that all about?  It is maddening.

But I digress.

The machine works and so i will try to engage my brain and pontificate as promised.  We are presently in Buellton at the RV park.  Been here since Thursday.  Having a wonderful time.  Two big things have happened.

First, we played golf at a course named Glen Annie.  A good test of golf.  Everything started out great and then the phone rang on the second hole.  My realtor.  He needed documentation that repairs on the Ocean house were completed (despite the re-inspection of last Sunday).  Okay.  So between my driver and my nine iron, I managed to arrange for my contractor to provide said documentation.  Actually, it took a long time in the end.  A call here, a call there.  Pretty soon it really started interrupting my golf game.  By the eighth hole, mission accomplished.   Rayman was not happy but what could I do?  My job beckoned.  He was a good sport about it most of the time.   Being a trustee is hard.  Your time is not your own.  So many problems.  Oops.  So many challenges.  That sounds more positive.

Second thing we did was drive down to Sherman Oaks (L.A.) so that Rayman could shop at Jimmy Au’s clothing store for men 5’8 or shorter.  A fabulous store.  Mr. Au is 80 years old and quite the sales guy.  He was down on the floor with his pin cushion shortening a pair of pants when I muttered, “Ray, do you intent to buy these?”  He didn’t.  But we had a swell time anyway.  Beau was invited in and the floor completely freaked him out.  He put on his breaks (he looked splayed)  and was not going to  move.  Shiny wood floors.  He did not like them.  While we were there a man came in and Rayman started talking with him.  They were comparing how many years of retirement they had under their belt(s).  The man had been retired 20 years.  Rayman said, “You don’t look a day over 59.”  The man said that was funny.  He wished he was.  Then he said, “Actually, I am glad I am as old as I am with the way things are going.  Who wants to be around?  I put in my wish to live to 92 but I’m backing off that.  Not such a good idea under the circumstances.”  Trump really is affecting people’s mental health.  Just saying.

On the way back, we stopped at Crush Cake’s in Santa Barbara to get some cupcakes and then we hightailed it back to Buellton to meet up with our bicycle friends.  A gaggle of them arrived today.

We dined at Industrial Eats.  Had a Caesar chocked full of garlic and anchovies, and a basil, tomato, cheese pizza (split one order of each).  We sat across from a couple from L.A. on their way home from Carmel with their “guide dog” which weighed about 1 pound.  And it sat in the lady’s purse.  They were vegans and had ordered 5 salads.  No wine.  Just water.  I admired their lifestyle.  That’s when he admitted he missed meat.  She didn’t.  And since she didn’t, I can only assume the only meat he will eat will be when she isn’t around.  Say lunch.  He had a hurt look on his face when admitting to his longings.  Think I’ll leave it there.

I did not post this blog so I am now p.s.ing.   Post script number one.  We played Sandpiper golf course which is located right on the Pacific ocean.  The weather was perfect.  A slight breeze made it perfect walking weather.  I do not exaggerate when i say that the course is bloody long.  Geeze.  400 yard par fours.  200 yard par threes.  However, the view is priceless.  When we arrived, we were paired up with two men.  They drove a cart.  It was a good thing too because they lost almost every ball they hit.  One shot would veer left.  The other shot would head right.  And as soon as they hit, they would jump in the cart and look and look and look for their balls.  In the meantime, Rayman and I would walk to ours and wait.  And wait.  And wait.  This went on the entire round except on the 11th hole.  I missed my drive and buried my ball in the heather.  Perched on the side of the hill with the ball way below my feet, I was really just concentrating on my golf game.  When we all arrived at the green, Doug, as usual, could not find his ball.  He finally announced that he must have rolled off the green down to the beach.  Literally, the beach.  So he dropped a ball and skulled it across the green.  I putted and went to the hole to take out the flagstick.  There was a ball in the hole.  OMG.  Doug’s ball.  A hole in one.  No one saw it.  No one suspected it.  Especially Doug.  Unbelievable, really.


My on the tee of the hole where Doug made a whole in one.

We also ran into the old pro from San Luis Obispo CC.  He is now the golf coach at Cal Poly and it just so happened that yesterday was the third day of West Coast college golf tournament.  Did I mention really tough pin placements?   And the greens were cut very short and they were quick.  It was great seeing Scott.


Rayman teeing it up on 18.

Oh, and I beat the Rayman.  Straight up and in match play.  Never got a par but I did celebrate a birdie on the 18th hole.  Just a foot away from the pin.  Sunk the putt.  Yippie.


See my marker? That’s where my ball came to rest.

My second post script is that we hosted 7 (9 all together) for a barbecue of chicken (a beer marinate) and tri-tip (olive oil, vinegar, oregano, salt and pepper marinate).  Our friends brought roasted veggies, French potato salad, and a yummy appetizer.  The weather was great and the company better.  Then K.C. made a deconstructed strawberry shortcake for dessert after a walk around the park.  Love our bicycle friends.  A great time was had by all because we are all like-minded…politically.  Blessed.

And the pic of Rayman at Industrial Eats is on this blog because we ate there twice and wanted to plug it.  Great food in Buellton.


Deep Pockets

Golf at Steele Canyon.

Golf at Steele Canyon.

This blog captures key learnings from the week in Santee, CA.

Do not wear pants that aren’t made for golf when golfing.  To illustrate the point, I did just that.  I wore some hiking pants when I played golf earlier this week.  The pockets were shallow.  What that means is that the shallow pockets don’t hold a lot.  And when you play golf, you need pockets that will hold a golf ball, tees, a green repair tool, and a marker that is used for marking your ball on the green.  So, what happened?  I went to the bathroom and as I flushed the toilet, my ball jumped out of my pocket as I was pulling my pants back up and it fell in the toilet at the exact moment that the water was rushing out of the toilet and my ball was swallowed up by said toilet.  When I reported this calamity to the Rayman, he told me not to mention it to anyone.  So I didn’t.  Until now.

Another key learning was to shop on line whenever possible.  Which probably explains why Jeff Bozos is now richer than Warren Buffett.  But I digress.  Today, we drove to somewhere to buy something and we almost died.  Twice, two different cars passed me and intruded into my lane so closely that Rayman and I could only marvel that we weren’t killed.  I laid on the horn for the second occurrence.  The first guy’s bad driving forced me to brake and move to the left to avoid the collision.   So, no more trips to the store except for groceries and car washes.  Let your fingers do the shopping.

Let’s see.  What else?  Oh, don’t sit down too much.  On Thursday, we met up with one of my high school friends to play golf.  We were a threesome.  We were joined by Louie.  Louie was 94 years old.  Fit as a fiddle.  Sharp as a tack.  He beat us all.  Not only that, he roamed up hills to find our balls.  No need for him to roam up hills to find his balls.  He never hit it anywhere but straight down the middle.  And Louie grows orchids.  It’s one of his many hobbies.  Not only that, but Louie was a Lt. Col. in the Marines and went to Iwo Jima in WWII.  Really.  Said he was just plain lucky to survive.  However, I attribute his longevity to more than luck.  He is out doing it.  He reports that he walked the course until just a few years ago when all his friends started renting carts.  So, now he rides.  However, he was forever jumping out his cart helping us find our wayward balls.  And he provided my friend, Elissa, with countless golf tips.  I think he fancied her.  He was a jewel and we loved our time with him.  So.  Keep moving.  Don’t use age as an excuse.


If you want to empathize with black people or if you don’t empathize with black people, read The Underground Railroad.  I’m in the middle of this book and it is so painful and awful that even though it is a novel, I think it is true.  If you are unsympathetic to black people in America, the reading of this book will give you some insight into the realities of America’s original sin.  It won a National Book Award.  Is is well worth your time.  Published a year or so ago.   ahttp://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2016/08/22/the-perilous-lure-of-the-underground-railroad

One other note.  I thought the underground railroad was a euphemism.  My history needs improvement, obviously.  I am embarrassed to admit it but the underground railroads were, well, underground railroads.  Proves we can all learn new things.

Reconnecting with old friends is fun and worthwhile.   As mentioned earlier, I hooked up with my friend and we had a splendid time.  She and her main squeeze are coming over tomorrow for a barbecue.  We plan to have a great time again.  Can’t wait.

Don’t sit on your sunglasses.  We went to Nordstrom and I tried on a few things.  One item required me to remove my shoes.  So I sat down.  When we left the store, I donned my sunglasses and they were a kilter.   This required a trip to an eyeglasses store.  Luckily, the woman that helped me fixed the problem.  And she refused payment.  There are nice people in the world, aren’t there?   Even offered a tip.  She wouldn’t hear of it.

Shop with your husband.  Rayman always gravitates to grays, navy blues, black.  At Nordstroms, he bought a red plaid shirt.  Very handsome.  Bright colors are great for guys.  It should be encouraged.  Now if only he will buy some salmon colored shorts!!    See.  He fits right in with battleship gray.  Here he is on the USS Midway in the San Diego harbor.IMG_0412

As an older woman, what do you like to be called by a stranger?  Madam, young lady, Miss, or something yet again?  Madam in the french manner sounds okay to me.  I’m admittedly conflicted but young lady or Miss seems an afront.  I’m neither and don’t pretend that I am.   Here I am in a cockpit of an actual jet from WWII, I think.  Climbing in and out I definitely did not look like a young lady…many other descriptions come to mind.  IMG_0410

Okay.  That’s all the key learnings this week.  What will next week bring?  Stay tuned.

Rambling Woman

IMG_0399 It’s out last day in the desert and a certain amount of introspection is required if for no other reason than it gives this woman something to do.

The wind is wreaking havoc sending the sheaths of the palm trees raining down from on high.  Those palm trees are amazing.  Tall, skinny.  Evolution proven without the assist from a certain bird or turtle.  Just look at plants.  After all, palm trees are, well, trees.  An oak is a tree.  Big difference with environment to thank for the discrepancies.  This area of the desert, Borrego Springs, is home to palm trees and orange and grapefruit trees.  The palm is infinitely more suited to the hostility of heat, wind, and lack of rain. The orange and grapefruit only exist with the help of man whom has figured out to move water to and fro.  Man, who has figured out how to pump water from beneath the surface of the desert.  So much so that the aquifer is drying up.


As a golfer, this brings me to full-throated anguish and deep feelings of guilt because here in the desert, man has figured out how to build golf courses and irrigate them.  It really shouldn’t be.  Water should be conserved here and over the mountain from here in Palm Desert.  But if they did not have golf courses, the houses might not sell.  Most golf courses that are not built by the taxpayer, known as muni courses, have been built to attract people with money that will spend that money on a house.  And don’t forget that gate.  Most courses in the desert sit behind gates in what is referred to as a gated community.  Keep the riff faff out is the message it sends.  And many people love the concept.


We drove back to Palm Desert the other day to buy me an iPad and buy some groceries.  Mile after mile of green grass lines the walkways that sit directly in front of the walls of the gated communities.   Fountains near the gated entrances squirt water in the air.  Meantime the earth sinks as water is pumped up.  What is wrong with this picture?  Oh, well.  With our new science denying President, we are in a world of hurt.  And all my wringing of hands won’t change a thing.

Actually not much that I do, changes a thing.  Except I think writing post cards and letters to our Representatives has had a positive effect.  Here’s to the fact that ACA survived the Republican onslaught.   I feel good about taking action.  Marching.  Writing.  It paid off.

But I digress.

I imagine palm trees as survivors of the ancient oceans that covered this part of the world.  They seem like kelp that spreads out at the surface of the water.  It is hard to imagine water having been here.  But when I do imagine it, kelp comes to mind.



We played golf yesterday.  Ram’s Hill a few miles up the hill from Borrego Springs.  A darling of a course in a gated community.  You see.  This is what drives me crazy.  The course had grass in too many places.  And it was lush and well watered.  And I am a contradiction looking for a place to happen.  Had a great round of golf and enjoyed it very much.  Bad me.  Two birdies.  One was almost a hole in one.  Made that putt!!

Just finished a book, Hillbilly Elergy.  I’m still thinking about it.  About white working class and white lower class people in Kentucky and Ohio.  And it really also could apply to all the southern states.  Health care is an example.  See this article.  http://kff.org/uninsured/issue-brief/the-coverage-gap-uninsured-poor-adults-in-states-that-do-not-expand-medicaid/   These states are red for the most part.  What don’t they understand?  Is there a correlation between this and education?  I’m not going to study it but I do wonder.  Why aren’t the people of those states clamoring for Medicaid?  I don’t know.

Here I go again, digressing.

If you have never availed yourself of the opportunity to see a super-bloom, you should put it on your bucket list.  As dead luck would have it, we arrived in the desert just in time for the peak of the bloom.  This trip had been scheduled for a year and so it really was blind luck.  Wow.  The brown desert was alive with color.  Brown turned to green.  No flowers turned to thick patches of yellow, white, red, purple and all shades in between.  I guess these flowering plants are another indication of evolution.  They are very smart, those

IMG_0378plants.  Only blooming when there is enough water.  Showing their plumage only after record rains arrive.  And along with all the flowers follow the people.  Like night following day.  They came in swarms like locust.  Clogging the streets with their motoring choice be it motorcycles, cars, trucks, SUVs, bicycles.  Did not see a segue. Did not see roller blades.   There were so many cars on the weekend that Montezuma’s Grade had to be closed down.  That’s the main artery, the only artery from Temecula and the inland empire.  And once the hoards arrived, it was clear they had no idea where to go.  Having been coming here for several years, we knew where to go.  But we didn’t go on the week end, but during the week instead.   I will admit that it was great fun to see all the people enjoying the scene and the scenery.  Beauty is still sought by many who are city dwellers.  It is encouraging to the human spirit.   Bitterwater Road and Carrizo Plains are two areas where we go near home.  And this year, Borrego really drove home the point that a super bloom should be experienced at least once.  Never have we seen anything like it in our area and we’re hoping that the super bloom occurred in those places as well.  It’s worth the drive to find out.



This trip has me feeling guilty.  I did not hike this year.  For the first week and a half it was just too darnned hot.  And then the winds came and a day of unsettled weather with raindrops occurred.  Fear of flash flooding clouded our thinking and we stayed near the RV.  We did walk from Holidays Homes RV park to places but never a hike.  Guess I will have to hike the Zoo when we arrive in San Diego.  Leaving tomorrow and so that is imminent.

I do have a bone to pick with the Rayman.  He isn’t giving me much material lately.  We’ve settled into RV life and don’t make the bonehead mistakes we used to make which provided much material for my blog.  This is distressing as a budding author.  What to do when your source of material stops messing up?  All suggestions will be appreciated.  I will not, however, stop blogging.  It is a hoot and serves as my diary of life.  Fun to re-read years later and I do mean years.  I started this in about 2008.  Or was it 2005?  I don’t know.  But it’s been awhile.  And the beat goes on.

We just returned from a whirl around the valley and I’m sad to say the flowers have peaked and are in a rapid decline.  The wind is gusting here today and the clouds are beautiful.  There are still a lot of travelers in town peaking at pedals and having fun doing it.  Life is good.

Bruises in Borrego

It’s hard to believe that we have been on the road a full week and a day.  Time is an amazing thing.  It seems to slip by slowing only to speed by at the same time.  What is that phenom called?  There must be, in physics, a law that describes it.  However, I never studied physics and so I don’t know.


Much has happened and I’d put falling down at the top of that list.  While visiting our friends in space 35 (guessing on the space number), I engaged with the folks next door.  They had a kitty cat.  Beau saw the cat, dashed toward it with me at the end of the leash.  I feel off balance and did a half gainer into the dirt, hitting my nose, knocking off my glasses, bruising my left breast and narrowly missing the steel box that houses the electrical stuff that we plug in to while camping.  While I whine about my injuries, it is amazing that I did not break my glasses, my head or any bones.  Well, I may have bruised a rib.  Not sure except that it hurts when I swing the club certain ways.  Golf clubs, that is.

So there was that.

Since arriving in Borrego Springs, it has been hot, hot, hot.  You’d think it was a desert.  Unseasonably warm is how one local described it.  But get this.  It rained so much this winter, and it is so warm that every flower in the desert in abloom.  The mountains around us are usually brown.  This year they sport lots of green.  The valley floor is amazing in it’s abundance of flowers.  Super-bloom they are calling it.  And they be right.   And because every major paper (LATimes, NYTimes, Wash Post) have featured articles about the event, the entirety of southern CA hopped in their cars and drov here for the weekend.  We’ve been visiting Borrego Springs for many years and have never seen anything like it.  Bumper to bumper cars, trucks, motorcycles converged in a town of 3,000 people and swelled it to 25,000 petal peepers.



So, on Sunday, we joined some of our oldest friends and others to stand on the corner of a roundabout (how is that even possible?) and held up our protest signs for all the people in all the vehicles to see.  Got flipped off quite a bit but also had lots and lots of people waving, blaring their horns in approval.  It was fun.  There were about 40 of us.  It was hot.  I was relieved when the protest organizer told everyone to go home and hour after we arrived.  It was to go for two hours but the heat was intense.  In the 90s.  High 90s.


Then there was the full moon.  Absolutely stunning as it rose above the desert floor.  And it set as the sun was rising the next morning.  Beautiful place for a full moon.  The other thing is that at home, we don’t sit out at night and the desert nights have been righteous.  Warm and wonderful.  We have eaten outdoors every evening and this helps focus the eyes on the surroundings.  The moon might have been missed in Morro Bay.  Not here.

We’ve played golf three times this week in the heat so we’ve been drinking a lot of water and Gatorade.  I’m puffy but hydrated.  Same with Mr. J.  And Beau.


Jake and K.C. and us standing amongst the flowers.

Most of our bicycles friends came earlier this year and have left.  We miss them.  Besides being bicycle “animals”, they are some of the nicest people on the planet.  And they all enjoy good food and drinks.  Every night is a party.  Not wild so just disabuse yourself of that notion right now!!

lOh, and the big bummer here is that there are so many people in town, we can’t get the internets to work worth a darn.  So, whatever stupid thing Trump is doing, we are being spared.  That said, our DishTV is working great and we plan to watch Bill Maher tonight.  Surely it will be funny.  Wonder if he’ll wear green for St. Paddy’s day?  And is anyone watching Little Big Lies?  My goodness.

One more week here and then it’s off to Santee, near San Diego for a few weeks of frivolity.  The time will seem like it is moving slowly but as soon as we know it, we’ll be in San Diego Zoo.  As visitors, not residents.

Hoping it is cooler there.

Hawaii in a Nutshell

Aloha and Wahulameakema,

As I recline in my bed at the Turtle Bay Resort, being the last night of our vacation to the islands of Hawaii, I must write a few things down.



The turtles of Turtle Bay

The Hawaiian language has about 13 letters of the alphabet.  The Hawaiians are a very resourceful lot.  What they lack in letters, they make up in the length of their words.  It reminds me of the old joke, “ Have you read the book, Open Kimono, by Kamonawannalaya?“.  Most words are long with about 28 letters.  And as a novice, I have no idea where the pauses lie.  So, I muddle through.  The words lack hyphens.  I think hyphens would help.  Just saying.

The Hawakalamakalayama Highway.  A parody, I admit.  But really.  How in the world did an artist survive in this culture with a name of Don Ho?  It just goes against the grain.  Firstly, there is no D in the language.  I think it consists of about 13 letters.  K,W,H,U,O,A,I,N,M and a few others.  I’m guessing here because I’m too tired to Wikipedia it.  But I’m quite certain that I am close.  This renders the language very melodic.  And unlike French, they pronounce every letter as near as I can tell.

Our vacation had it moments.  Rayman got sick for his 70th.  Could it have been too stressful?  Turning the big 70 with a face that looks slightly younger?  Who knows?  Who cares?  He got sick and this rendered him pretty much useless after his birthday.  Poor guy was in the doldrums.  He lost his voice.  He coughed and coughed.  He went just about nowhere and did just about nothing but rest.  However, rest was a good thing.  With the waves crashing, and me at his side, what could go wrong?  ha ha.

Ryan and his gal, Tamara had a great time.  They took a trip where they were in a cage under the water and sharks were swarming.  They took a night paddle board extravaganza where they laid on the boards and looked to the heavens (it was night and a full moon).  They toured the pineapple place, took paddle board lessons, drove around the island.  They snorkeled.  Actually, I snorkeled with them and the strangest thing happened.  When I dragged myself out of the water onto the beach by the hotel, water ran out of my nose…everytime I leaned over.  What was that?  Never happened before.  I think my head is empty.  The water came into my ears and out my nose.



But I digress.

They had a great time.  And they had colds too.  But they are a lot younger.  Rayman wasn’t having any of that.  And by extension, neither was I except for the snorkeling which was done “on campus” at the resort.  No golf.  No.  We bought new golf club carriers for the trip.  We paid extra baggage fees.  And we never used our clubs.  A big bummer.

Our day consisted of meeting the kids for breakfast and dinner.  Does the term living vicariously have any meaning to you?

And did I mention the rain?  Two full days of rain.  The most recent was today.  Today was the last day of vacation for Ry and Tam.  They flew out today.  We fly out tomorrow.  So, I went with them to the airport.  Ray was still feeling horrible.  It rained so hard that when we got there, I spent about an hour at the Alamo car rental lot talking to Apple Support in order to figure out why my Apps feature wasn’t working.  I couldn’t drive anywhere.  It was a blinding rain.  So, I got creative and called Apple.  It helped me pass the time.  When the rain let us a bit, I decided to go to the mall and shop.  Only as I approached the mall, I decided that I did not want to shop.  Every mall has every store that every other mall has.  And I was in Hawaii.  Why did I want to shop?  It did not compute.  So, I asked Siri to give me directions back to Turtle Bay Resort.  She was somewhat uncooperative.  We argued.  She finally relented.  But the voice (audio) didn’t work.  She is such a bitch sometimes.  Actually, I avoid her mostly.  She’s not what she’s cracked up to be in my opinion.  We just don’t see eye to eye.  And because of that I had to constantly look at the phone to make sure I wasn’t getting lost.

So, I headed north and much to my chagrin, I needed gas.  Don’t ask.  So, I finally got off the freeway to look for gas.  In Hawaii, they do not have helpful signs indicating food, hotels, gas so my guess was as good as any.  And I did find gas though I had to go way out of my way.  And then, I couldn’t figure out how to open the gas tank compartment.  Couldn’t find a lever.  Didn’t open by a spring loaded mechanism.  What the hell?  Looked for the instruction booklet for the car.  It was not in the glove box.  So, I googled it.  Still couldn’t figure it out because I did not know the year of my Pathfinder.  So, I hopped out of the car into the rain and clicked the buttons on the remote.  And guess what?  I got it open but for the life of me, I don’t know how.

I filled up the tank and needed to relieve myself.  The gas station had a sign posted, No Restrooms.  Great.  So, I bought a sleeve of dry roasted peanuts, ripped them open with my teeth and inhaled them.  It was after 2 p.m. and I was hungry.

So, here I am now.  Lying in bed blogging.  Rayman feels better.  We leave in the morning.  Had pupus and wine for dinner and Cherry Garcia from the shop down by the pool for dessert.  Oh, and some dark chocolate by Dove.  And did I mention the red wine that washed that down?  Best part of the day, really.

So, that’s the story of our vacation in Hawaii.  But, hey, it could have been worse.  No one got typhoid.  I wore just about everything I brought, except my golf outfits.  Rayman is getting better.  The sun is going to shine tomorrow.  And we are returning to an equally fabulous place.  Home.  IMG_0221

Rayman Turns the Big Seven-0


Ryan and Tam preparing to take a dive.

Rayman has his birthday and he has a cold which rendered him inaudible for most of the dinner party last night.  A squeak here.  A squeak there.

Most of us have encountered a cold or flu while traveling.  It is a shame it came to this but shit happens.  The few days before we flew to Oahu, we spent 4 days with our good friends, Ruth and Tom.  Ruth had a cold but had been suffering for a month.   We hold her harmless.

When we flew from San Luis Obispo to San Francisco (SFO), we met up with the kids (read adult children), Ryan (number one son and his romantic interest, Tamara).  She had a cold she was getting over.  Ryan was beginning a cold.  Ray was getting chills.  No matter.  We walked around the airport killing time and looking at the display of gaming machines from the 1800s forward to the one arm bandit.  Really works of art in their own way.  And there were pictures of saloons from the West and I only saw one with a woman pictured and she was not a lady of the night.  Women did not frequent saloons as customers.  The women were used upstairs for sexual relief, as I’ve been told.  Funny that Matt Dillion did business with a woman saloon keeper, Kitty.  Too funny in this political era since I have a teeshirt that says, “Pussy Strikes Back”.

Perhaps not much has changed, really.  Women were also kept out of politics and voting until Wyoming finally allowed women the vote in the early 20th century.  Wyoming of all places.  Now Wyoming is firmly in the red column and home to Darth Vader, Dubya;s VP.

But I digress.

Well, actually, I do want to make another political observation.  Elizabeth Warren is really under their skin, isn’t she?  And I think it instructive that two women Republican Senators voted against DeVos for Education.  Do you think women have bigger balls than men?  Do you think they are more fair-minded?  more hardworking and sincere?  I don’t know but perhaps so.  But for every Susan Collins, we have a Joni Earnst in the halls of power so there is that.  And who can leave out the air-head Sarah Palin.

Back to the North Shore of Oahu.



We upgraded our room because they put us in a room overlooking the grand ballroom which sat on the shoreline.  Bummer.  We moved up to room where the waves were more tame, the view unobstructed.  Quite lovely.  And it’s probably a good thing because we have spent a great deal of time in it.  Rayman is in no mood to do much.  He sounds like a frog.  Energy has left his body.  So instead of swimming with sharks, floating with turtles, snorkeling with schools of fish, we spend time in our room or on the beach, or by the pool (for small snippets of time).  The rest of the time, we’re up in our Ivory Tower.
  It is becoming clear to us at this point that golf is probably not going to happen.  We’ve already missed 2 golf dates.  We have one more scheduled for tomorrow and I think it is history.  So, we bought new golf travel bags, we paid $140 (round trip) to fly them over here.  And we will not use them.  Drats.

Having said that, as I sit here blogging, I feel like Earnest Hemingway.  Remember the pictures of him, his old typewriter sitting near a window on a tropical island, with the gauzy linen curtain waifing in the breeze.  That’s me!!  Except, I’m not Earnest.  I have wood shutters, and I’m on a computer.  But, hey, nobody’s perfect.

Which brings me back to the Rayman.  He ain’t perfect.  Catching a cold for his birthday is not a good plan.  So, to make everyone else but himself feel better, we drove to Honolulu and visited the USS Arizona Memorial yesterday.  Sobering.  Sad.  Much brought on because Japan needed to trade with us.  But Japan sided with Germany and we were not going to trade with them.  Boiled down to oil, rubber, tin, iron.  Natural resources.  Makes what is going on now with our “child wannabe Dictator” all the more frightening.  Embargos lead to wars.  Man child at the tiller.  What will become of us al  And the most terrifying of all is that Ivanka’s shoes have been pulled from Nordy’s.  Now our boy dictator is using government accounts to rail against Nordys.  That is so wrong, I don’t know what to say.  Oh, yes, I do.  Does the term conflict of interest mean anything to you?  Impropriety?  Emoluments Clause?  As previously announced, I going shoe shopping at Nordys.  A perfect political strategy….send a message and buy a pair of shoes!!

In the meantime, we are up in our Ivory Tower carrying on as though all is normal except the cold that the Rayman has.


KP in the sub. Well outfitted, I’d say.


Fauna along the road. Perhaps the Navy fried their ancestors up in the galley?

After visiting the USS Arizona, we toured a submarine from WWII.  Tight quarters.
Can’t imagine living in one of those tin cans, 300 feet down.  And when they go silent, all power is cut and sit there roasting and taking a war sauna.  I was glad to reemerge at the aft of the sub after the tour.  Fresh air.  Sub parked and deck above water.  All good.

Returning back yesterday, the ocean was really putting on a show at the Bonsai beach.  We stopped to film and snap pictures.  That lead to buying an ice cold coconut, having it split open so we could drink fresh coconut juice.  I hate coconut.  However, it was good.  Guess my issue is with the dried, processed stuff that is sold.  So, my mind opened up a bit yesterday and that is always good.

At dinner, we ate at Roy’s.  Started with MaiTais.  IMG_0221

Ended with upside down pineapple cake with caramel syrup.  Appetizers and mahimahi in-between.  Wine flowed.  Cards came out.  Gift bottle of wine was opened with no corkage fee.  A Pinot all the way from Porlland, OR.  The kids are great!!

Everyone in the restaurant made Rayman feel really special for his birthday.  Lovely service.  When we left, we were feeling no pain.  That came later in the middle of the night when the rich food took its revenge.  I think Rayman might have been more sick when the bill came but I intereceded.  $340 without the tip.  Lord help us all.  However, in defense of the price, we were sitting at the edge of the Pacific Ocean in Hawaii.  We were with family.  We were extremely happy albeit with a snotty nose or two.  Life was good.