Missing the Rayman

Missing the Rayman

Gee wiz. How is this going to work? My dearly beloved is staying home while I go globetrotting to Malta. With my friend, Nancy.

The best way to proceed with any story at the beginning and I have decided that the beginning started yesterday when i bid my fond adieu to Rayman and Beau and headed out to Ridgecrest which is located in the Mojave desert. And I set out in our new Ford C-Max, a hybrid. And all was going along as expected until I reached Bakersfield. The yet-to-be-named GPS woman directed me a different way using a long, dusty road between I-5 and 99. Oil derricks, dust storms (eek the paint on my new car) and fruit trees. The wind was blowing the overused gray soil airborne and if one was outside on foot, a person would get a free face peel complete with grit between the teeth. Once I reached the 99, I encountered a sign announcing congestion on 58 which the road I was taking. Transitioning on 58 there weren’t any trucks…yet. Then BAMB. Screeching halt. And I found myself parked on the freeway. I finally rolled down the window on the passenger side and asked the trucker parked next to me if he could see anything. Did he know anything. No, he did not. About that time I called Nancy to report my dilemma. She looked on the internet. A fire. She advised me to turn around and go find highway 178 that goes through Lake Isabella. So, I followed fellow deserters and made a u-turn in the median and headed back to highway 99. I got lost because my GPS lady didn’t know what I was doing or where I was going…just like me!! Finally, I turned off on Merle Haggard Parkway and wove my way thru housing developments, oil fields, Del Webb Retirement community, a big city park and finally came to a turn that took me to 178.

And while all this was going on, my friend, Diane, called me to visit. Happily my phone worked. At this point I must make some interjections.

New cars have new technology and I fall on my sword here because I have not read, hence I don’t know how the car works….completely. Example. I stopped at a Pilot station on highway 41 to gas up and stuff. I couldn’t figure out how to open the gas tank. I called the Rayman. Boy, was I missing him. Turns out the button to push is on the middle of the instrument panel. Every other car I have ever owned had a lever near the floor on the driver’s side. Progress got the best of me.

My phone worked through the car’s system but getting it to work with verbal commands? not yet. I’m still working on it. Same with the audio. And it is tough to figure it out when I’m alone at the wheel. Without running into something.

But I digress.

Highway 178 was fabulous. It took longer but the rock formations were breathtaking. The Joshua trees were impressive. And yellow flowers were blooming. It looked like spring. Lots of curves, slower speed limits, the highway follows the river Kern. And the Kern was running, cascading over rocks, raucous at times. Slow and languid at other times. And no big rigs. I arrived about an hour late, but the drive was worth it.

Alps alert. We are currently flying by the Alps. FAB, baby. (yes, I’m blogging at 38,432 feet as we jet toward Frankfurt, Germany.)

The day today was completely different. Set out from Ridgecrest headed to LAX. Spent a lot of time standing in lines. Security detail as it were. After finally passing muster, we entered the main cavity of the Thomas Bradley International Terminal. Boy, have they fixed it up. High scale retailers, restaurants. Before boarding, I think I had charged $70 worth of stuff I had to have. Quite an experience.

We flew (are flying) on a huge bird to Frankfurt, Germany. It was a lovely flight. I had about 50 movies to chose from, all kinds of audio. TV, sports, news. You name it. I tried to sleep in-between meals. With my new memory foam pillow, I managed to count sheep on our 11 hour flight.

Now we’re on a 2 hour flight from Frankfurt to Malta.

So here’s my mea culpa for the day. Before I left home, I cleaned out my wallet. Something about simplification. Tiding up. When I checked my walnut this a.m. I could not find my debt card for my bank. Then I could not find my debit for my brokerage account. Panic set in.

I called the Rayman who told me he was very worried about me!! I re-searched my purse and the Wells Fargo card was swimming in the bottom like a flounder. Must have fallen out. A big sigh of relief by everyone concerned, me, Nancy, Rayman. OMG.

To be continued. Did I mention how much I miss the Rayman?

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Nancy Cleland (5 days ago)

She failed to mention the delicious dinner I had lovingly prepared for her arrival after her arduous drive to Ridgecrest. Not to mention wine.

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