Travels with The Rayman

As some of you may have noticed (or not), my blogging has slowed.  And I’m not sure why except that I’ve gotten lazy.  This my be true.  It may also be true that I attended a Writer’s Workshop last fall and discovered,  to my utter amazement, that in order to write a book, you have to actually write it.  And I’m stuck in the middle with 13 chapters done and 13 to go.  A faint depression has set in.  Who knew it would be so much work?

And last night we went to Al and Charlie’s for dinner and I was amazed to find out that our friends are missing my blog.  Either that, or they are extremely thoughtful.  Or just being nice.  But they brought me to my senses.  I have returned!!

A welcome sight.

As I compose this epistle, I as sitting in The Dog House (TDH) which is currently parked in space 38 of the Holiday Homes RV Park in Borrego Springs (BS), California.  This is our third March here.  Our bicycle friends live here and a bunch of other bicycle friends come here every March to ride their bikes up and down the huge mountains that surround this oasis.

The Rayman and I played golf today but we did not post our scores because a few holes made us cheat.  That is largely because I was on the phone trying to cancel an order for Starbucks Kenyan Espresso pods.  And the reason I was doing that was because when I ordered them on line this a.m., I messed up the order and had them going to our house instead of BS.  So between shots, Rayman and I were trying to get the coffee order cancelled.  This caused a certain amount of angst which is why I am sure that the shot that resulted in my ball lodged under a bush…occurred. Golf takes a great deal of concentration and I am now in awe of our friends that get calls while golfing and still manage to whip my derriere!!

What a swing!!

Things have been okay of recent.  We left home last Tuesday after canceling a Monday departure because of rain and high winds at home.  So, we drove all the way from home to here in one day.  10 hours total.  I’m too old for that.  Several funny things happened along the way but the heck if I can remember any of them.  We were tired when we got here and set up TDH in the fading light of day.  So, we walked the dog, locked him in, and went down to Carmelita’s for long wait at the bar.  The bartender was very busy making mammoth margaritas for the clientele.  While waiting, I talked with the three guys to my left.  I talked their ears off.  Don’t know what got into me.  Yak, yak, yak.  The good news is that they didn’t like Trump either so we all got along just fine.  Yes, politics were discussed.  Anyway, I’m sure they were glad to leave because I was making a pest of myself and I couldn’t stop it.  Must have been all those hours of captivity in TDH.

Since that day, it took until yesterday to fully recover.  Bouncing back is not as easy as it once was.

We did a nature walk with some of our friends.  Flowers are plentiful this year because of the rain but the locals explain that they aren’t as tall as usual.  We also observed Swainsons hawks  who show up when the caterpillars appear.  They love those caterpillars which are black and show up quite nicely for those hawks.  Their underbellies are yellow and if you flip them over, they immediately right themselves.

Bird brains

Our friend, Elizabeth, biker extraordinaire, brought with her to the nature walk, a chart with pictures of flowers normally found in the Borrego-Anza State Park.  Only we only saw about 2 of them.  So, where were all the other flowers?  And why weren’t the flowers that we were viewing not on the very colorful, slick papered brochure?  A total mystery now surrounds our adventure.   Guess we will have to do it again next year to see if things change.

Desert lilies were viewed.

Since we have arrived, I made a batch of yogurt, some sourdough pancakes (yes, I brought my started from home) and a pork tenderloin with trimmings.  While doing all this I managed to burn my hand and drop the stove top cover on my big toe which made me drop straight to the floor.  The good news is that I have not yet cut myself and the food has been tasty except for the burnt yams.  It was raining and windy that night and I had to do the whole meal in that tiny oven and so I burnt some of it.  Barbecuing is a much better way to cook when one is RVing.  We plan to grill scallops tonight and have them with salad and some pasta that I will dress with olive oil, garlic and some parmaigiano reggianno.  (spelling is butchered, I sure).  That is unless the scallops don’t thaw enough, in which case, we’ll just go back to Carmelita’s and have another chicken enchilada and a small bowl of black beans with fresh pico de gallo.   Ole.

Oh, I just remembered when I forgot.  When leaving the RV parking lot where TDH leaves in San Luis, I wanted to look at Rayman’s ipad.  But it wasn’t on board.  We left it at home.  OMG.  What to do?  The car was hitched up to TDH.  Drive home and get it?  or have Claudia send it to us.  We took door number 2.  That error cost $61  because Rayman had to have it ASAP.  And it arrived the next day about noon.  Amazing but expensive.  Glad we didn’t leave the vacuum cleaner!!  That would have cost a fortune.

The weather here has been really interesting.  Wind blowing so hard we thought the RV was going to topple over.  Rain.  Who knew it rained here in the desert.  More wind.  And the wind starts suddenly and then it stops suddenly.  It’s been in the low 80s.  But that’s about to stop.  The temp is heading into the 90s and will remain there for the rest of the stay.  Think we will head up the mountain to Julian.  It’s in the low 50s there.  Just 30 miles away straight up the hill.  California is so varied and interesting.  Glad we get to experience it like we do.

And as a final note for today, we have made some of our reservations for our trip to the Badlands this May.  More fun and games to come.  Our friend, Diane Wyatt, found an RV place to stay in Gillette, Wyoming called Green Trees Crazy Woman RV Park.  Sounds perfect to me!!

“Dianna, just leave me alone.”   This is a direct quote.  A favorite plea from my husband, the erstwhile, Rayman.  He engages a slightly higher octave when spitting this out and he slows down his twangy drawl in order to, I suspect, deliver the message with great frustration.  It rarely works.  That’s because I know, in my heart of hearts, that I am not going to ever leave him alone.  It’s not what I do.  He is my husband, for heaven’s sakes.  He is conveniently present most of the time.  We live in close proximity.  There is no one else around most of the time.  So…he gets my full attention.

This morning I had much to do in the kitchen.  Company was coming for dinner so I needed a good running start for the event.  The menu included achiote-based marinate for the chicken parts.  The other item on the menu was home made ice cream.  You see, this is what an on-top-of-it cook does.  Meringue has no use of yolks, and it requires a copious amount of whites.  See chapter on E is for Eggs.  So, what to do?  Flan, creme brûlée, ice cream?  Three great uses for egg yolks.  I settled on ice cream.  From the same cookbook, Two Hot Tamales, I found an ice cream recipe with kuala and chocolate.  Yummy.

The ice cream required 3/4 cup of double-strength espresso.  After searching the cupboards for instant espresso, all that I found was old Folger’s coffee crystals dating back to what looked to the be the age of the dinosaur.  That’s when I asked Rayman if he would make me some espresso.  That was at 9:10 a.m.  “Sure”, he said.  After a few minutes Rayman pleaded, “What the heck is wrong?  I can’t get this to work.”  Backing up for a just a minute, he had unearthed an espresso maker that has been gracing the counter for years.  That’s all it has been doing.  Gracing the counter.  Rayman has not used it in years.  It’s one of those appliances that are the rage so you buy one.  Then after a year or so, it just graces the counter.  Novelty gone.  Espresso not required.

But I digress.

So, I went over to him and surveyed the situation.  After jiggling the plug, the machine came to life.  Oh, my.  Was there male pride involved?  Perhaps.   At this point, he cheerily started brewing the espresso.  And I returned to making my marinate for the chicken.  But them, calamity broke loose.  Rayman had placed a measuring cup underneath the “spiket” where the brew comes out.   And most of the espresso was missing its intended target.  That’s because it was leaking out of the sides of the filter holder”.   “Good grief”, he muttered.  And that was about the time I contributed the idea of reading the directions.  “I don’t need the directions.  I know what I’m doing.”  Right.  Espresso was everywhere.  On the granite, on the espresso maker itself.  On the Rayman.  “I may have loaded it too tight.”  That was followed up by, “I’ll do it again”.  This was followed up with him doing it again with the same exact results.  Only this time, he was inflicting damage on himself.  Coffee stains on his sweater.  “Should I find the directions for you?”, I inquired.  It was about this time that he said, “Dianna, just leave me alone.”  And that’s about the same time that the espresso maker did it thing and erupted, more or less.  Coffee was everywhere.

And we both just howled.

I rushed to the computer to get it all down and he went about cleaning up the mess and then cleaning the espresso maker and then brewing a perfectly nice cup of espresso.  It was 10:20.

Oh, what a year.  It’s the year of cancelled plans.  Never before have we had so many plans that did not pan out.  Biorhythms on the fritz?  Stars not aligned?  What gives?

Me and my shoes somewhere in the Caribbean.

And then there is the question of why women love shoes?  I adore shoes.  Sandals, boots, low heels, flats, moccasins, slides, golf shoes, deck shoes, loafers, tennis shoes, water shoes, slippers, flip flops.  Admittedly I do  not like high heels or toe shoes.  Seems like torture to me.  That’s probably an age thing but it reminds me of bound feet like the Chinese used to do.  As I said, at the risk of repeating myself…torture.  But why?  Why do I like and many of my female friends love shoes so much?  I think it is because of Cinderella.  That was a shoe story.  And Wizard of Oz.  That was a shoe story.   These movies preprogrammed us as youngsters to be programmed us into loving shoes.  And so we do.  If the dear reader has another idea, I’m all ears.  Speaking of ears, you could argue that Walt Disney also preprogrammed us to like mouse ears (Mickey and Minnie).  But, really, people, that’s not the same.  Or maybe he preprogrammed us to like elephant ears. (Dumbo).  But this theory loses umpf because those ears didn’t sparkle and shine.  And ears interfere with our crowning glory, such as is it.  Our hair.  So, I dismiss that theory.

But I digress.

Summer has twisted our plans.  It’s too hot in the mountains.  It’s too hot in the desert.  It’s too hot inland.  The only place it isn’t hot is here at home.  And this is where we will stay most of the time.  And then Uncle Ralph had us plan a trip for him and then he decided he didn’t want to take the trip.  Cancelled.  And then our trip to Canada got cancelled because the home exchange couple in Quebec ran into a back problem.  He hurt his back.  So, no Canada.  What is Rayman going to do with that maple leaf sweater?  Don’t know.  Just kidding.

However, as is always true of life, just as soon as something got cancelled something else presented itself.  A golf invitational for me.  At the newly redone Salinas Country Club.  It’s now known as Crazy Horse CC.  I really like that name.  It makes me conjure up a “rearing” horse that would be suitable for a logo.  Horseshoes anyone?  Ah, ah.  The shoes again.  I can honestly say that I like horseshoes.  Not sure that horses like their shoes since they are nailed on (ouch).  So there is that.

One of my favorite horse pictures.

I’m hopeful I’ll do as good as I did at Dairy Creeks’ Invitation.  Came in low gross in our flight (63) and missed low net overall by one stroke!!  For non-golfers, forgive me for bragging.  Golfers, to be sure, will understand my delight.  I will not trouble you with my bad game stories except to say that a week later I played Dairy Creek…I shot a net 83 with two 5 putts and at least 3 sand shots the following week.  What happens?  Where does it go?  It’s a crazy, crazy exercise in futility, frustration, elation and all points in between.  You never arrive.  It’s just that simple.  Perhaps the powers that be should rename some of these courses.  How about Hell’s Golf Course?  or Putt Me if You Can Country Club?  Or how about Sand City Links?  Drown Your Sorrows Lake Course?  Slicing and Hooking Golf Ball Hills?  Just an idea for matching the reality with the game.   Again, what shoes will I wear?

My friend, Donna, in her shoes.

And then there is Jury Duty.  Darned if I don’t get summoned every year.  It’s annoying.  I plainly don’t want to serve on a jury.  Last time I was summoned, they were trying a man who as accused of shooting a horse in the foot.  Really?  Really.   The prosecutors have too much money.  But I pride myself in getting dismissed will the help of my active imagination.  Or maybe we should call it unique and thoughtful thinking.  Your pick.  So, July 20th I must burnish my excuses and head to the court house.   What shoes should I wear?

The other thing I refilled my time with, as it were, is a Writer’s Conference.  Yep.  That’s right.  I’m going to a conference to learn a few new things.  About writing.  Publishing.  Blogging, of all things.  I’m not sure why I signed up for the blogging session since I just noticed that this is my 167 blog on this website.  And, in case you, the reader, thinks that’s not much, consider that I started all this blogging on my website, adventureswiththerayman.com.  Then Apple came along and stopped iWeb, their proprietary software and I had to come up with a new website provider.  Here’s my very first post.  http://adventureswiththerayman.com/adventureswiththerayman.com/Adventures_in_Travel_with_R_and_D/Entries/2007/12/20_Adventures_in_the_Kitchen_Around_the_Holidays.html

Yes, I started all this on Dec. 20, 2007.  That is hard to believe.  You may have to copy and paste the URL into your browser to read it.  If you dare!!

Rayman does Mt. St. Helens.

Number one son at Mt. St. Helens.

Finally, what is the Rayman doing?  Well, he’s been running away from home a lot.  He flew to Portland to help Ryan move, only Ryan didn’t move.  So they had fun.  Then he came back and ran away again to Truckee to play golf and poker and bocce ball with his Indian Guide buddies.  Now he is back.  With funny stories and plenty of memories.   Mostly unshared.   And you understand why.  With my ability to wax on about silly things, he guards his friends’ privacy like a guard at the gates of Buckingham Palace.  This leaves me with the opportunity to imagine what goes on.  Things like eating all the wrong kind of food, belching, scratching, laughing at dirty jokes, telling lies, giving each other the raspberries.  General foolery.  That’s my theory and I’m sticking to it.  And these guys are good at what they do since they have been doing it the best part of 30 years.  The Choctaws.  Yep.  That’s them.  And they are awesome in every way.  I love when they include us women.  The repartee is delicious.  Can’t wait to see them all again.  Alas, what shoes will I wear?

From the shores of Pismo Beach, April 21, 2015

It all started on Saturday.  Our Italian friends invited us to dinner along with our friends, the Wyatts.  It was a delicious dinner featuring Italian food.  And the wine flowed freely.  The evening started out with Diane asking us about our upcoming trip to Pismo (25 miles from home, more or less).  We recounted that our plans had us leaving on Sunday, the next day and that we were meeting two other couples from Gilroy and the plan was to eat, drink, golf pretty much in that order but not at the same time.  Diane wanted to know why they weren’t invited.  OMG.  Of course, the answer was, “Gosh.  We never thought about it but why don’t you come.”  She said, “Okay.”  She grabbed her phone, called the Pismo Beach RV Resort and made a reservation.  Talk about decisive.  That was decisive.  And that’s the way it happened that 8 of us were heading out the next day to Pismo.

We arrived about 3 p.m. because check-in was 4 p.m.  As we were setting up the Gilroy couples arrived.  Judy and Larry and Barbara and Gary.  Judy and Lar have a golden doodle dog that is about twice as big as Beau and 7 months old.  Judy and I decided to walk the dogs.  While we were gone, Hal and Diane arrived and Diane came over to our site.  She was visibly upset because as they were entering the park, an RV was coming the other way and was almost in Hal’s lane.  Hal moved over to avoid hitting the RV and that’s when he hit the pole.  It was on the passenger’s side.  It ripped off the mirror, dented the body and broke the awning holder.  Basically.  OMG.  Enough to make one drink as if one needed an excuse.  And as Rayman and I were feeding the masses that night, everyone came over for happy hour and dinner and the evening began.  Empathy was poured.  Commiseration was exuded.

I made poulet au poivre (pepper), creamy beans from scratch, and endive with a fabulous dressing from scratch.  Oh, and the apple galette for dessert.  From scratch.  Rayman had a hard time getting the fire started so dinner was later than it should have been.  And while he was tending the fire and darkening the endives, the dogs were playing and the dogs proceeded to knock over the grill that was on the ground.  That’s when the endives “bit the dust”.  Rayman was going to throw them away.  Uh, nah.  I ran out and saved the endives, brought them in, rinsed them off and tore a few leaves off it they were too sandy.  Rayman in the meantime collected the hot coals and placed them back in the barbie.  Then when they were browned, dinner was served.  Everyone was a good sport.  And only one person got grit in their teeth.

We ate in the RV because it was cold and breezy outside.  Some people had an exceptionally good time and were unable to play golf the next day.  That’s my story and I’m sticking with it.  Actually, Diane hadn’t been feeling well before they arrived and Hal didn’t bring his golf clubs for some reason that remains mysterious.

So…the next day there were only 5 golfers as Barbara had a procedure on the bridge of her nose and her Doc warned her not to play golf and so she came along for the fun and tended the flagstick a lot.  We were lucky to have her.  Seeings how we had an afternoon starting time, the man behind the desk said we could play as a five some and so we did but we had to let smaller groups play through.  Understandably enough but, there were a lot of 2 somes out there so the game dragged on.  And the wind was blowing and it was mighty cold.   We finished late in the afternoon and didn’t sit down to dinner until 8 p.m.  4 of us ordered in, Barb and Gary went out and Hal and Diane, they ate early on in their RV.

But I digress.  Sort of.

Larry is a big barrel chested man with a mighty swing and on one of the holes, he drove his ball into a backyard of a house sitting too close to the fairway.  Said ball ricocheted off the fence and thru the window of the house.  The owners were home and so names, addresses, telephone numbers were exchanged.  An expensive round of golf for the Hazens that day.  Ironically, the Hazens live on a golf course fairway in Gilroy and have replaced many windows in their own house over the years.

Today, we took the day off and went wine tasting in Arroyo Grande at Talley Vineyards after picking up sandwiches at a local deli.  Again.  Cold.  Foggy.  Breezy.   It was at lunch at the winery that we decided to alter our plans for tomorrow and play the 12 hole challenge course instead of the long, regular 18 hole course.  In the a.m. before the wind.  Learn by doing, I guess is the classification this change of plans illustrated.   Enough with this wind already.

And with any luck at all, we will escape any future problems.

As a follow up, the Wyatts will have the Ford dealership in Arroyo Grande fix their coach.  They (the Ford people) came out today to assess.  This is the first day Diane felt good enough to go along so lunch was fun with all participants participating!!  And Rayman is taking a nap as I type.  I’m swearing off wine…sort of.  One glass with lunch.  One glass with dinner tonight.  I’ve been partying too much, if there is such a thing…there is.  And I will continue this behavior for a while.  The old grey mare isn’t what she used to be…In fact, I think she may take a nap now.  After all, I got up at 8:45 this morning and I’m not sure that was enough rest for me!!!!!!!

There are a few other interesting things that I have noticed in our travails.

Do we look like we’re asking for the worst spot at the RV park when we sign in?  or is this just a coincidence?  Do we look like the perfect couple to put in a direct landing pattern spot when there are other sites available.?  Are we alone on this or does it happen to you?

Really, folks.  This park is mostly empty and we the one that small planes and helicopters use to hone into the runway.

The swimming pool looks like Cocoon.  Let me explain.  The swimming area has a lap pool and a “splash” pool.  So, all the people gravitate to the splash pool leaving the lap pool unmolested.  And the people in the splash pool hold on to these styrofoam snake-shaped things.  Now, mind you, the pool is only 4 feet deep.  So why they need those snake-shaped things is beyond my wild imagination.  But there they are.  Cocooning in Yuma.  And some of the people are sporting hefty tans.  They have not gotten the memo.

The unmolested lap pool.

The funny thing is…I have rediscovered my love of swimming.  I was a pretty good swimmer when I was a kid.  There was a plunge located across a street and a meridian from where we were living in Atascadero.  Oddly, it was located behind a church.  In the morning I was out the door and going to the pool.  Too young to take the advanced swimming classes, my modus operandi was to sit on a patch of grass and watch the older kids take their lessons.   As the clock rolled around, it would be my turn for my classes.  One of the happiest days of my life was when I finally qualified to swim in the deep end.  Nirvana.  Anyway, after the lessons, I stayed on and swam all afternoon.  No wonder I look like a lizard now.  But, oh, how happy I was in the water.  Because of my swimming laps here, I have resolved to continue swimming at the Cuesta College swimming pool at home.  They have lap swimming early and late many days and I think I will just “do it” as those Nike people say.  But no Speedos for me.  OMG.

A few random other thoughts now that we have returned from the desert.

I’m glad to live near the ocean.

Boats on Morro Bay.

My Uncle Ralph looks great.

It’s raining here today.  Yippee.  Though Beau is unhappy because he isn’t getting his walk on time.

Has anyone been watching TV?  Fortitude on Pivot.  Durst on HBO?  Going Clear on HBO?  John Oliver on HBO interviewing Edward Snowden?  Better Call Saul, I think on AMC?  House of Cards on Netflix?  TV is much better these days than the movies.  And with a big screen TV and Hi-Def, staying home has never been more fun and interesting.

Just started reading the book Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee.  A real downer but very important as it is told from the American Indians’ point of view.

It’s pouring now.  Cloud burst, perhaps.  Yippee.

Hope you are having a great day!!

March 30, 2015 We are back in our Dog House with the Beaumeister.  This morning I regained a crown in the town of Los Algodones, the Mexican dental down on the border to California and Arizona.  We had to cross the Colorado River in order to get there.  There is still a bit of water in that grand old river.  Such a sad sight to see, the trickle that’s left as it hits Mexico.  And one only look as far as Yuma to know why.  Yuma is an agriculture town with a military presence.  If it wasn’t for the government, it probably wouldn’t exist.  The water is guaranteed by the U.S. Government/state governments and the U.S. Government pays for the military base here.  So why the right hates the government, is beyond me.  It guarantees livelihoods for thousands of people in this sun-drenched and parched desert location.  The only thing green here are the miles of veggies growing in the fields. Here’s American freeway eye candy…not.  Why have one when you can do double decker? Yuma is the name of an indigenous American Indian tribe that occupied this territory many moons ago.  Apparently they were named Huma which means smoke in some language other than english.  Seems the Yumanians in those days burned a lot of fires which created a lot of smoke.  And there you have it. Yuma is home to 2 Indian casinos.  It also has a roadway named Giss.  Really, people.  Giss.  If my name was Giss I would probably change it so that no one would think to name a major thoroughfare after me.  Giss.  Giss rhymes with hiss and miss and piss and the list goes on.  It is very onomatopoeia-ish.  But I think I speak for many that think the name is a turn-off.  I am sure this Giss person and their family are pleased getting all that recognition.  But they might be the only ones.  Perhaps Giss was a previous mayor?  or he ran the Yuma Territorial Prison (one of the only tourist venues here).  I am guessing.  Guessing is far more interesting than looking it up and finding the truth.  Did I just say that?  Yes.  And so I tried to look it up.  Hidden history, I’ll call it.  Couldn’t find a thing.

The Giss “offramp” and The Dog House. I’m driving (eek) the toad.

But I digress. We jumped in the Fit and headed for the land of mañana at 8 a.m.  My appointment was 9.  We arrived at the dental office at 8:40.  My dentist was sitting in the waiting room watching TV along with several “patients”.  This office has many dentists.  And they share rooms with many dental chairs (at least 3 in one big room).  Funny.    But really, it makes a certain amount of sense.  Why should each patient have their own room?  Maybe they are sound-proofed so when a patient screams or bites the dentist, no one will know?  Just kidding.  After my appointment we walked by one dental office (not mine) and looked in the window while passing only to see a woman with her mouth open and dentist inside it with a drill.  No glamour dentistry here. Anyway, I checked in at the front desk which has 3 people sitting behind it.  See picture below.  That’s the front desk.  When I sat down, the dentist got up and disappeared behind the cleanest door I have ever seen.  We’ve gone here twice and twice I had seen the aids cleaning that door.  The place is squeaky clean.  A few minutes later, Dr. Lopez came out and got me.  That’s another interesting thing they do here.  Your dentist fetches you.  Actually a nice touch, I think. And then I got my crown.  Took about 10 minutes.  And all that time Dr. Lopez and his assistant chattered away in spanish.  I heard a “casa”, a “nada” and a few other words but that was about it.  And it must have been personal because they spoke in very soft tones.  But I digress. After we left the office (had to write a check to get out!!), we looked for Zebra, the veterinary store in Los Algodones.  I had emailed them asking if they carried a certain ear medicine for Beau.  They emailed back and said yes, si.  When we arrived we were greeted by a chorus of honking, crowing, chirping, tweeting birds.  Inside the shop, Zebra, I asked for the medicine.  “Two days.”, said the very short Mexican man.  Needless to say, we left without the medicine.  I am chalking it up to language problems.   And we left without seeing a zebra.  However, we did see some camels, right across the street!!  Here’s the evidence. Yep.  A traveling circus with camels.  Perhaps they had a zebra.  Didn’t see one.   I have to report that the Rayman stood on the corner, looking away.  My picture taking must have embarrassed him.  Poor guy.  The things I get him into!! The people of Los Algodones are warm, friendly and polite.  And going there early is the best idea as the lines to get back into the U.S. are long and slow.  Forget driving.  It must take people a hour by car.  It took us about 10 minutes by foot.  The other day, later, it took us about 45 on foot.  Early birds win. We didn’t buy anything other than a root canal and a crown.  That set us back enough. So.  Was this worth it?  Yes and no.  The root canal was $320.  The decay removal and new crown was $385.  There is the cost to stay here and get here.  I may have concluded that if implants were required, it would be worth it since they are only $1500 an implant.  For just normal dentistry, probably not because of the cost of coming here and staying here.  However, we have The Dog House and we made it a vacation so there is that. Rayman and I do not think they oversell or take advantage.  They could have recommended an implant where my back molar and his back molar were previously located.  But they didn’t.  And the dentist told Rayman that veneers weren’t a good option.  So, Rayman escaped the dental chair completely. So, that’s about it. As they say, newly crowned and homeward bound!!!