Travels with The Rayman

Today I coaxed Rayman out of the house to walk Beau.  I wanted to go.  He resisted.  But he relented.  And a fine walk it was.  Light breeze, cloudless sky…well, why describe it when I can show you.  And the crazy thing is, we’ve lived in our location for about 10 years and we just discovered a fabulous walk along the bay that we did not know existed.  

So while we tiptoed thru the tulips, I got the idea that we should play golf tomorrow…alone.  Called the pro shop and got us a starting time…just us Mohicans….walking…the course.  Upon securing a starting time, I suggested that he wear his earplugs and listen to music so as to distract himself from his aches and pains that will inevitably make a showing.  He said, “Then I won’t be able to hear you.”  Like that would bother him?????  Ha ha.

Rayman is a master at the last word…getting it in, that is.  And while having noticed this tendency for years, being shut up together for days on end, it is a bit more noticeable.  But to get real, I am a bit of a last worder myself.  My mom used to tell me that I loved to argue.  She was right.  I should have been an attorney where I could apply my skill of arguing in front of a judge.   

But I digress.

Yesterday I actually weeded the atrium.  It was a bit enjoyable, sitting on the flagstone, delicately plucking out the small little weeds that have emerged thru the tiny rocks that fill the gaps between said stones.  It was relaxing and outside.  It was after I finished that I decided to rearrange some pots with plants that I loped back to the backyard and picked up some pot “feet”.  You know those doodads that keep a pot off the cement or ground.  Lugged them back and started to spread them out when…out jumps a spider.  A BLACK WIDOW.   OMG.  No-gloves me…jumped back and said, “RAY…THERE IS A BLACK WIDOW.  RAY!!!!!”  He came out and squashed it.  It was huge…it’s body seemed to be about the size of my thumbnail.  Okay.  That might be a slight exaggeration.  I was extremely lucky it did not bite me.   I swear it was the size of my thumbnail.

Really enjoyed my martini last night.

Our house painter finished painting yesterday.  Hooray.  Looks good.  Now the fence painter comes next week to paint the wrought iron fence.  Then we can reposition all the pots on the deck that were moved for all the painting.   And yesterday I ordered a heron.  It is made of metal of some type and will grace the yard.  With so many herons around here,  a heron statue makes perfect sense.  And it is something to look forward to receiving.  Of course, I have on order kleenex, JetDry, dish soap.  Ordering things on-line keeps us safer, I suppose.  So, as I have perfected on-line shopping over the years, this experience now comes in handy if I can even find stuff…so many things are out of stock…on every website.  Who knew JetDry was in such demand.  Really, people.  

Now I need ground lamb.  Where do I get that without going to the store?  And what store will even have it?  May have to put that recipe on hold.  Tonight I am making crab cakes for dinner.  They should be swell.  Bought pasteurized crab for the recipe.  I prefer fresh crab to be eaten out of the shell so I opted for pasteurized.  

It’s Thursday today.  May print out a puzzle..they are hardest on Thursday so this gives me the opportunity to get really frustrated by my lack of skill at crossword puzzles.  On the other hand it keeps me off the internet reading the news which is getting extremely grim.  Just sayin.

If Trump wanted to purposefully turn the virus into a shit show, he could have not done a better job.   Still hard to get a test.  Two hospital ships with about 20 patients total.   Hospitals without ventilators and him telling Governors to go find them themselves instead of using the power of his office to nationalize companies to make the ventilators.  Shipping much needed supplies here at home to other countries.  You can’t make this shit up.   Really, folks, he needs to resign.  I am sure I have said this before.  He is so far over his head and so uncaring, he just needs to go to FL and play golf for the rest of his days.  Leave us alone.  It is a question whether Pence would do any better, but it is worth a try.  The main reason I even mention any of this is that is why I am blogging…to catch on “tape” what is happening and what has happened for posterity   and my own recollection.  It is doubtful that I will ever forget it…it is so horrific.  No amount of words can minimize the sheer idiocy.  Well, maybe I should re-read A Confederacy of Dunces.  If you haven’t read it yet, it would be fitting at this time.  Or you could try The Plague.  However, Dunces is pretty hilarious.  

More, later.

If it’s Tuesday, it must be Morro Bay.  The weekend came and went as we hunkered down trying to avoid peeps from other places coming to enjoy the beach.  Does that make our house a beachhead?  Or better yet, does that make us beachheads?

But I digress.

Took Beau for a walk today and tuckered him out.  Walked around the golf course.  The county has closed the road to Black Mountain, so we can walk in the middle of the road without fear of getting squashed by a motorist.  The sounds of silence were terrific.  The birds are breeding and their vocals are fabulous.  Wish I knew each kind of bird and it’s particular song so that I could report back what I heard.  The birds are out doing it.   Leaves rustling, breeze chiming in…I wonder if the birds notice any difference with the lack of human activity?  

California poppies. Espied on the walk.

We were gone for more than an hour because the Beauzer needs to sniff.  Toward the apex of the walk, I was practically dragging him…it was warm and he was hot and apparently tired.  Probably wondering why I had to take him so far from home.  

This staying home thing is for the birds now that I am thinking about birds.   A ride is in order.  Maybe this afternoon we will jump in the car and go somewhere.  Wine has been shipped and it is scheduled to arrive today and we must be home to sign.  Dragsville.

There is still plenty to do around here but what’s the hurry?   So sleeping in is our big new thing.  8:15 this a.m.  Really.  Unheard of by the Rayman.  He must have been exhausted from playing sudoku.  

My chicken soup was a bust.  No one can believe it.  It was bland and boring and I won’t be sharing that recipe.   Tonight we will kick it up a notch with ribs on the barbie.  Yams.  Tossed salad.  Garlic toast.

The saddest part of my existence right now is the lack of chocolate in the house.  I have some on order so it won’t be forever…but man, do I miss the chocolate.  Chocolate and port is my usual sweet ending for the evening and it never fails to fulfill me!!

So there you have it.  A blog that is somewhat boring but at the same time informative in the age of Corona.  

House with new front plantings, and ladders for the painters and Beau.

We drove from Thorny Brassieres to Brassieres (Besiers). Besiers is the city with a lot of one way, narrow streets. After the grand search for a place to park to visit the tourist info bureau, we found underground parking. I’m surprised they don’t require you to have sunroofs here on all vehicles for easy access. Because they park so close, its is almost impossible to squeeze in and out of a car. It would be easier to climb thru a roof. When we emerged from the garage, we didn’t know where we were. We walked around a park that was being set up with games, amusement rides (for instance, we exited the garage by the bumper cars). I looked and Ray and said, “where are we going?”. He said, “back to the car”. We did go back. Cheapest parking yet!! Then we saw the locks.  I filmed it since I have no desire to do the Panama…especially in the days of Coronavirus!!  Just click on the link below.

MVI_0984

Do you wonder what lurks in the crevices of your garage? or attic? or basement? CA doesn’t do basements too much but I had the good fortune of having grandparents that had a basement. It was dank, dark, foreboding. And I loved it in a dangerous kind of way. The steps were steep and one lone lightbulb illuminated the entire terrain. The wood that held the house up above the basement was pristine redwood that I once managed to lodge across the palm of my hand. A giant splinter of redwood. Yikes. Did that hurt.

Once down in the abyss of the concrete reinforced (I hope) room, were located shelves. And on the shelves were unopened boxes. White boxes. And they had ribbon around them. Silver ribbons. Along with those boxes were a myriad of plates, cups, glasses, piles of clothes. Thinking of it now, it is not too far removed from what the Rayman and I just found in our garage as we embarked on our “spring clean”. However, the basement had much more character. It also had a vent to the outside which was useful for light and air. Uncle Dodo, the architect of my grandparents house was no slouch. He thought of everything, apparently.

But I digress.

Our neighbor, the Jordan family had a basement too. As far as I know, these were the only two basements on our block but then I never did a census, and I didn’t snoop. Surmising is the best I can do. Johnny Jordan was an entrepreneur in the entertainment business. He entertained people in his bars and liquor stores. And because of this perhaps, he made the basement of his house into an elaborate bar. It had red tiles on the floor and a small bar, complete with sink, mirrors, glasses, booze. And it had a closet. That is where we changed our clothes when we were putting on a “floor show” for the adults. The water heater may have been in it. Not sure. Memories have faded over time. But that basement was high class. It was a hidden gem. Perhaps it was a speakeasy!! I think it is fair to say that their basement had far less spiders than ours did. Oh, and how can I forget. It had a jukebox. With records. OMG. It was so cool. And it also had a vent to the outside for air and light.

So, today Rayman and I started cleaning the garage and it brought all these memories back when I stopped to take a water break and sit down to cool down.

Our garage is not nearly as interesting. And it’s full of stuff that I wonder what ever possessed us to buy. Oh, I’m sure we had our reasons but really. There must have been located 10 tubes of silicon stuff. Putty. 30 cans of opened paint, mostly mysterious as to the application they were intended for. Many from the previous owner so they must match our walls. Forty two cloth bags for lugging stuff home. Wine bags. You know the kind that have 6 compartments. Bags from Whole Foods, New Frontiers, Albertsons, Morro Bay Golf Course. Bags up the ying yang. Old tire chains that do not fit on presently owned automobiles. Hats which we plan to keep but hats galore. Baseball caps, my floppy golf hats. And pictures. OMG. Family pictures. And many of them framed. So, I took the pictures out of the frames and they now the frames rest in the back of the Prius. Off to the Goodwill truck with the frames, old tools, clothes that don’t fit anymore. A major clean up.

But back to the boxes those boxes in the basement. When I got old enough to reach the shelves, I opened one of the boxes. It had a white small card attached. Dear Donna. Congratulations on your marriage. Love, Whomever. The boxes were unopened wedding presents filled with Fostoria glasses and plates. Cups and saucers. Never opened. The vestige of a broken marriage. How sad, really. My parents were only married for a few years, not long enough, apparently, to open the wedding gifts. Not long enough to set up house.

Well, some of those dishes are in my kitchen today. I use them for desserts and salads. Quite useful to the homemaker. Take that to mean what you wish. I will spoil your fun by telling you that my mother was completely uninterested in making a home. Her favorite meal to make was fish sticks, at the dawn of the frozen dinner era. She was also quite fond of cream tuna on toast. So, I guess she didn’t need salad and dessert plates for that, now did she?

Well, I had my rest. The garage beckons. And I found an old box of my grandmother’s recipes (she was a good cook and homemaker). So, perhaps, I will share a few of them with you later on. But first, I must plow through that box and see what i can find.

Hope there aren’t any spiders in there.

I’m visualizing the Pope washing feet while donned in protective gear aka PPE.  That is how far I’ve come in my imagination during the pandemic of the day.  

So what, dear reader, do you think of all this?  As bad news swirls, the President refuses to free up ventilators from the defense production stockpile.  What on earth is wrong with this man?  

But I digress.

Took a ride yesterday.  It was a blustery March day and the wind whipped off the ocean as though Mother Nature was angry and letting us all know about it.  We drove down to the small burg of Guadalupe named after the Patroness of  All the Americas, Our Lady of Guadalupe.  She is the Mexican version of Mary, mother of Jesus.  I’ve always like the little town.  Its’ residents are mainly Mexicans that work for big Ag in the fertile Santa Maria valley.  Located in Santa Barbara county, the town has always looked like it has fallen on hard times.  And so an artist in Santa Barbara created some art to locate in this tiny town for what reason I do not know but I am glad he did it.

It was while looking for these sculptures that we turned down the road by the cemetery which is across the street from the school Rayman once taught an elementary school class.  Having never been on this street before, I asked Rayman to keep driving on the road to see where it led.  Wow.  We were so delighted to end up at the ocean after driving through the towering dunes that lined the road.  What a fabulous place.  And it is actually a place.  Here are some pictures.

Entrance to escape

Dunes under clouds

They are vast.

Looking back toward Pismo et al.

We stopped at our friends home, the Bucks, and picked up our pizza stone that we left there a couple of weeks ago after a pizza making party.  They live in Nipomo which is north of Guadalupe.  Things were fine at their house and they were dressed in street clothes.  I say that because it is about 9 a.m. on Friday, March 27th and I’m still in my bed clothes. 

Earlier in the day we worked on our new headphone that I ordered on advice of our friends, Tomas and Ruthie.  Couldn’t get them working the night before so we went at it again and discovered that working during the day is more illuminating…Rayman could actually see the back of the TV to see where the jacks were.  So, now the headset works and I’ve ordered another pair because the one we had from Dish is pitiful compared to these new ones.  They are awesome.

Took our lives in our hands by stopping by Whole Foods on the way home and buying lots of chicken, ribs, lamb shanks so we can continue to, well, eat.  Rayman had to use the restroom so he ventured in.  We carry hand sanitizer with us for protection…armed, so to speak, for grocery shopping.  I made a point of thanking the workers for braving the virus to come to work.  Without them, no food.  

Work continues on the front of the house.  The painter and his sidekick that looks like James Crowell, stood on their ladders buzzing the building to erase the effects of the vine tendrils that has been removed.  This is going to be the world’s most expensive paint job is all I’m saying.  

And we started a new series on Apple + (plus) that is a riff on the race to the moon.  Highly entertaining.  

Lagoon on the road thru the dunes.

More from the ride.

Cows on the hoof.