Travels with The Rayman

 

I’m shocked.  Shocked.  When trying to listen to my music on the Southwest jet today, I couldn’t access my music because it is all in the iCloud.  So, we’re flying through clouds and the iCloud is messing with me.  Who knew?  Did you?  My advice.  Move some of your music to your iPhone or iPad so you can listen to it in the clouds because if it doesn’t physically exist on your “toy”, you can’t access it.  As you know, the iCloud required wifi and you can’t use wifi on an airplane.  Ain’t technology great?

Hi folks.  I’m writing from Charleston, N.C.  Just arrived after a day of flying.  My arms are tired.  My head is tired.  My body is tired.  My Rayman is tired.

Just switched off the Democratic convention. Obama just spoke.  Man, is he fabulous.  It’s the only speech I watched the entire time.  Been too busy moving, traveling etc.  Life gets in the way.  Glad I was able to catch the speech though.  As a person, I can definitely identify with him and the Dems.  He’ll get my vote…again.

But I digress.  Let me see.  Last night we spent the night in L.A.  When we checked into the hotel, there was no reservation waiting for us.  What?  Luckily the Hacienda had room at the Inn.  Bottom line.  I made the reservation for the wrong date.  It is so hard being me.  I had us checking in a day before we had reserved a room.  Hence no reser.  Luckily, no extra charges ensued.  I’m quite sure they took one look at us and felt pity.  It’s come to that folks.  I can hear the people behind the desk.  “Had an older couple try to check in.  No reservation listed.  Ends up they screwed up the arrival date.  God.  How hard can it be?”  Well, let me tell you something…darn hard.  Life is hard.  So there you have it.  Of course, this has probably never happened to you.  But IT HAPPENED TO US.  So.  Moving on.

Had an excellent flight to Nashville today.  Then a problem raised it’s ugly head…the plane that was to fly us to Charleston was wounded.  Leaking hydraulic fuel.  Mechanics were on site.  On board.  It took an hour or more to fix the problem.  When we landed in Charleston, the landing was hard.  I overhead a guy behind us say, “Guess they’ll need to fix another leak after that landing.”  Captain Boom came to mind.  Don’t know about Captain Boom?   Read my blog from Mexico!!

Rayman witnessed a woman being hauled off by the police.  She went nuclear about something…I missed the whole thing because I was on the phone with eBay with a question.  When I returned, Rayman was relieved.  He was told an older woman had freaked out and taken away by the police.  As he told the woman sitting next to him, “I was relieved because it wasn’t you.”  Then the woman asked us if we heard about the man with explosives on a plane out of Philly.  I said that was too much information for a day on which she was flying.   She agreed….aggressively.  Got the impression she wished she hadn’t turned that darn TV on.

When we arrived in Charleston, we reminisced about how the last time we were in this airport, the security people insisted on checking our suitcases.  And when I say checking, I mean spreading our dirty laundry all over the counter to inspect for, what?  Bombs?  Flammables in our underwear?  Anyway, we got a charge out of that line of thinking as we walked to the car rental counter where we encountered perhaps the most soft spoken man I have ever met.  A man who whispered in a southern drawl.  Quite captivating.  With cheaters poised on his forehead, he seduced us into buying gasoline.  Then it was on to the carousel to pick up the luggage and then out to the parking lot to get into the rental car so we could immediately get lost.  It WAS NOT OUR FAULT.  There were no signs to identify street names.  This led us to almost tossing ourselves into a big ditch while maneuvering the car to turn left.  No cones.  No warning lights.  These people in N.C. need to take a course on street signs…how to use them effectively.

I had booked ourselves into a Marriott…Courtyard.  From the road, we could see a big Marriott…seeing it and actually getting to it was maddening.  And then, they told us we were at the wrong hotel.  Luckily the right hotel was just down the street.  Both Marriotts did an outstanding job of hiding their reception desk.  It took us two twirls around the first one to find it.  And the second one was almost as well hidden.  What’s up with that?  Finally, we arrived and I refused to leave the hotel to find food.  1.  We might never find our way back  2.  Drinking and driving was not desirous  3.  I was tired.  So, we ordered in and drank wine with our veggie sub and dark chocolate.  So…this is our first night in the deep south.  Tomorrow we are on to Savannah.  And I promise some pictures.

Oh, and they had our reservation here.  And the woman behind the desk could have been Ethel Lander’s sister.  A real look alike.  Don’t know Ethel?  You should.  She’s fabulous.

More later.  Rayman is sleeping and the light on the computer is too bright.  And I agree.  Nighty night. It’s 12:30 a.m. now.

Oh, and a disclaimer.  The picture at the top was taken in Sydney.  Didn’t take a picture today but I wanted to create some interest for my dedicated readers!!

 

 

It might be a good idea for me to spring forth in the dead of night to write because i woke up about 2:30 and thought about some pretty funny stuff that would have been great in this blog…but it is 8:10 and those ideas/thoughts are long gone.  Where do things like that go?

 

And where is that doggone dog leash.  Just about everything it’s time to walk the dog (this happens around 8 a.m and 3 p.m. and 9 p.m., the leash just goes missing.  “Where’s the leash?”, the Rayman just exclaimed.  “I don’t know but I think we need a leash law.”, I cheerfully chirped.  And this is something that just happened so I don’t need to remember it now.

 

We worked our derrières off yesterday.  The Rayman suffers from a wine glass addiction that heretofore had not come to light.  But unwrapping three, count them, three boxes of wine glasses and finding a home for them in our downsized bay bungalow…and then finding a place to squeeze them in was difficult.  I suggested to him that we use these darlings on a daily basis (Riedels, read expensive) so that we can break them and then they won’t take up so much room.  As luck would have it, three of our 7 margarita glasses broke in the move…so that was a blessing in disguise because those things are monstrous.  Really, folks.  Who ever thought of the shape of those space killers?  Impractical glassware…it must have been a man.

 

But I digress.  It’s Saturday morning.  It is time to head to the beauty shop, an oxymoron if I ever hear one.  This is where you go to have a person shampoo your hair, a fabulous treat, only to be plunked down in front of a mirror with good lighting so that you can look at yourself with your wet hair pulled back revealing all that you spend a great deal of time hiding.  Discouraging and disgusting all at the same time.  They must do this so you’ll just be happy to get the hell out of that chair and run home and do something that will get your mind off that…which you just witnessed.  Just saying.

 

Just returned from a trip to the Uncle’s with an SUV full of pictures (art work).  And I don’t know where all of them are going to go…and I can’t part with most of them…they are just too important to me.  What’s a girl to do?  We’re going to do some hanging today.  I’ll let you know.

 

No pictures on the walls yet.  We got distracted with putting more things away.  And I just cleaned my teeth and now luxuriate in my bed with the Mac (MacBook silly).  I’m amazed at how much stays hidden in my teeth.  Before going to bed I used my water pik.  This is after brushing and cleaning between my teeth with a dentist approved pick that has little feathery pieces of plastic near the tip of one end.  And after all that, about 10 things came flying out into the sink.  Does that type of thing happen to you?  I mean, let me know here folks.  The Rayman says that I am just graced with this special problem.  Which got me thinking, “Am I alone?”.

 

But I digress.  WE HAVE OPENED ALMOST EVERY BOX AND FOUND A PLACE FOR THE CONTENTS…or we hauled more stuff off to Goodwill.  Both statements are true.  The bigger news is that most boxes are empty.  And the house is starting to take on the feeling of home.

 

Some casual observations.  There are missing drapes in the master bed.  Most of them are there…but two are missing.  Moving is torture.  We still haven’t found the phone.  Good thing we bought new ones.  There must be missing boxes???  After rearranging the guest bedroom three times, we settled on a layout.  Third time’s a charm?  Rug pads do work.  We found a picture of a bathroom that we like so we are going to use it to do our remodel.  We have three events scheduled for tomorrow.  We are meeting the people from the bay area that we exchanged homes with awhile back.  We will visit over breakfast.  Then, we have a doggie birthday party that was rescheduled because Beau’s sister, Jaycee, couldn’t make it.  Her master was in the hospital that day.  She is back and so we are having a party for the dogs.  At 5 p.m. we are hosting a party for all the folks that let us borrow their blankets for our move (needed at the last minute for wrapping furniture).  Should be about 12 here.  Are we crazy or what?  The Daily Show on Friday was a classic.  Please do yourself a favor and YouTube it or go to the website for the Daily Show and watch it.  It was the about the last night of the GOP convention.  It was brilliant and I want to keep it forever so I can memorize it add quote it at parties…Really, folks, it is THAT GOOD.

 

After we watched John Stewart and the Daily Show, we watched Austin City Limits on PBS and listened and watched the Dave Matthews Band.  It was fabulous.  I had no idea this group was that good.  Must buy some essential Dave Matthews but I can’t find the essential stuff on iTunes anymore.  What has happened to Essentials?  It is essential that I find out.  That was a great service and it’s gone?

 

My hair is really short now because I have such a good time visiting with Scot, that I forget to tell him, “Not that much.”  Or, “I would like to have it trimmed 1/4 inch.”  I was, however, 3 minutes late to my appointment this a.m. because I could not find my cell phone.  So, after looking in all the suspected spots, I used our land line and called it.  It rang.  It was in my pocket.  OMG.  I’m losing it.  The funny thing was, Scot, greeted me and then announced, “I can’t cut your hair today.  You are 3 minutes late.”  I loved it.  So, there I was explaining myself to my hairdresser.  And where did they get that word, “hairdresser”  Dressing of the hair?  Really?  Perhaps in the middle ages?  When flowers were placed in the hair?  But, hear me out, people.  We live in the 21st century.  Hairdresser, the word, should be retired.  My stylist.  The cutter of my hair.  My chemist (not any more).  My blower (as in blow drying).  My split end snipper.  But never “my hairdresser.”  Can we all just agree on that?

 

Time to retire.  Need to get my beauty sleep.  Such as it is.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Moving is the pits.  While downsizing is a good idea, it is hard, frustrating work.  I’m not kidding here.

 

 

 

Of course, there were crosses to bear.  Our street was to be slurry sealed on Monday.  Then that was moved to Tuesday.  Then it was moved to Thursday…that’s today, the day we had the movers helping us transport the final load of “stuff” from UR’s and the storage locker.  Fine kettle of fish, yes siree.    When the Rayman figured that out, he hunted down the people in charge of the slurry scheduling and told them that our movers were coming Thursday morning and there was no way they could slurry seal.  The lady in the truck was using her authority to bend the Rayman to her will…but that did not happen.  He explained the situation and said, “I’m not rescheduling this move.  We planned around your two other days and I’m not moving it again.”  So…today the movers helped us and as soon as they left the slurry people came and did the street.

 

I didn’t see this because I was in the dentist’s chair ending another saga.  My implant was placed with great fanfare.  The $7K tooth is now in my mouth, ready for chewing.

 

So, between the charge for the help today and the final charge for the tooth, we managed to spend $1,000 and didn’t have one bit of fun doing it.  Really, folks.  I’m ready for a drink.  Hell, I’m ready for food.  Haven’t eaten much of anything today and my tummy is whining.  The Rayman is showering and when he emerges, we’re off to a dinner party.  Hope I can keep my eyes open.

 

Anyway.  The house is a total mess.  Boxes here, a mess there.  Looks like a bomb went off.  So, here are my observations.

 

1. Downsizing?  Get rid of more than you think.  And do not discount the possibility that your possessions will multiply while in the storage.  More seems to come out than went in.

 

1. Moving?  Do it while you can still move (your body that is).  This is not an activity for the faint of heart.  It aggravates both the bursitis, the arthritis, the muscles.  And don’t pack things in big boxes.  They are too heavy as our tendency always is to cram them to the brim with stuff.

 

1. Keep track of your phone.  We’ve been here a week and we still don’t know where our phone is.  And this is really annoying because today, of all days, my iPhone took a dump.  It just stopped working.  No, I’m not kidding.  I restored it.  No help.  I talked to the SMEs at Apple.  No help.  Now, I get to take it to the genius bar tomorrow for help.  With a lost phone, I’ve been relying on my iPhone for important calls.  It’s so broken, I don’t even know if I’m missed a call or message.

 

1. Keep track of your wine and liquor.  You’ll need it.

 

1. Be thankful your friends.  I cannot tell you how fabulous our friends have been during our ordeal.  First, Larry, the hair, Viselli helped move boxes of wine and other assorted goodies.  Laurie, his fabulous wife, keep the dog for us which really helped us not break our necks tripping over him.  We were fed delicious dinners by Adrienne and Marc, Flo and Gary, Margaret and Bob, Patricia and her friends, Hal and Diane.  Then Mary Kay and Jay stuffed us with fabulous enchiladas.  And Claudia at URs.  Actually Claudia also let us keep our freezer at her beach house, she kept Wanda the fish throughout, she kept Beau on several occasions.  And as mentioned earlier feed us several times.  UR let us store stuff a his house.  And the Coxs, the Watts (Jim and Betsy, Karen and Dick) loaned us blankets for packing.  Neta loaned us boxes. It really took a village and it isn’t over yet!!

 

I did not post the above part of this blog in a timely manner.  Today is a week from the above information and I have more wisdom to depart (no, not my wisdom teeth.  They were extracted in the 70s).  About moving.

 

We just finished eating peanut butter and jam sandwiches on Richard’s fabulous raisin, walnut bread.  Famished is a word that comes to mind.  Famished because we’ve been unloading boxes.  Yep.  A week into it and still boxes sit idly by in the garage waiting for attention.  The garage is also beaming with broken down boxes and big bags of rolled up packing paper.  I had the bright idea that someone in the area would want our boxes that spent a great deal of money on at Home Depot and the U-Haul store.  Listed them in craigslist and not even a hit.  I advertised them at once used.  Over 100 of them.  $50.  No takers.  So, today in an act of either marketing genius or delusional behavior I modified the ad to $.05 a box or $35 for all.  Someone needs these boxes.  Please.  Take my boxes please.  If not sold by Friday (tomorrow), I guess I’ll try to give them away.  This will hurt my feelings and my pocketbook.

 

Given all the empty boxes, we still can’t get a car in the garage.  And spare bedding.  Do we have spare spreads?  Yes indeedy.  And we have spare coffee tables.  And spare books (read no place to put them).  OMG.

 

So, the other night we were to meet our friends in Avila for dinner.  At Ole Port Inn for dinner.  That was a blast except for the part where we were to go to Tom and Ruth’s for drinks and pupus before and somehow that fact got by us and we showed up the Inn while they were all imbibing at the Donnolly’s abode.  Gnashing of teeth ensued as we headed to their place at Avila “Arms”.  Drinks were a necessary mood enhancer when we finally arrived.  We were needed as the the group in attendance was the same group  of friends we went with on our sailing trip in the Caribbean.  And we were planning the trip to Hilton Head which we embark on next Thursday.  Do you see a Thursday theme developing here?

 

But I digress.  In attendance  was Pat “here, I’ll do that”, and Richard “where’s my vodka”…Michele “my cats are fabulous”, and Bryan “I’m the captain”…Tom “up against the wall %&*@” and Ruthie “the rules state” .   We had a great time.  Wine may be shipped.  Clubs may be shipped.  There will 4 or 5 days of golf.  Each condo will do dinner two nights.  We will all do a dance to the sun gods.  Trip insurance was procured in case of bad weather.  We’re set.

 

Except that the Rayman and I have to get this place in order before Nancy, the Beau sitter, arrives next Wednesday.

 

Better close and continue this chore before we run out of time.

 

 

We are on day 4 or 5 of partially moving in to the new digs.  Here I lounge in the guest bedroom because there’s not many places to roost in this place, at this time.

The floor is finished in the great room and down one half of the hall.  The master bedroom and closet are about 2/3 done but unusable for anything…a compressor, a saw, various hard looking tools loiter in the space not yet finished.  And the other half of the hall has plywood showing.  So there is the kitchen 75% complete and the guest bedroom.  Everything else is in a state of disarray.  Additionally, the area rugs are piled up in the garage waiting for the work to finish so that they may be laid where needed…just about everywhere.  Dust floats in the air like smog.  Even the bushes outside in the front yard are covered with a thin veil of dust.  Nothing goes unscathed.

I must say that I completely admire my cousin, Susie, because she went through a complete remodel of her entire house a few years back. How she did it will remain a mystery to me.  Edit that remark.  How she did it without a nervous breakdown is to be admired.  What a job.  And we are only doing the floors.

So, tonight we barbecued in the front yard some fresh, local king salmon over hardwood.  What a treat after yet another day of opening boxes, putting things away, cramming things in small places, relegating more items to the Goodwill trailer because there is just no space to house that olive dish, the glass serving tray, that crystal bowl that I have honestly never used.  In honor of Turkey, I bought some local cucumbers from the man at farmer’s market and made a yogurt dish with garlic, mint, grated cucumber, salt to taste.  Fabulous.  Easy.  Healthy.  Also tossed a salad of mixed greens, nicoise olives, avocado from the farm up the road, tomatoes from Templeton (another farmer’s market purchase), feta cheese and fabulous EVOO and basalmic vinegar from Italy, aged 10 years.  Sweet and thick.  All with with a bagette from Richard, baked today in Los Osos.  Oh, we are so lucky.

Tomorrow is golf for me.  Golf meeting for the Rayman.  A day off while the bang, bang, banging continues.  Then Wednesday, we pick up the freezer from winced it is stored, take possession of our repaired couch, pick up a change of address form from DMV, travel to San Luis just in time to meet a bunch of friends and take a train to Paso, taste wine, eat dinner and come back in a van.  Fun day in the works.  Then we pay big time on Thursday for the prior two days of frivality.  The movers and the truck come on Thursday and they gather up all that is left to be moved from Uncle Ralph’s and the storage locker.  That will end this long journey of moving for good.

The most interesting thing about all this is our life without television.  We have not watched TV since this process was started back in July…about the 29th.  On our trip to OR, we did not bother.  Our only source of news has been the internet.  Rayman reads the headlines on Yahoo.  He keeps up with sports on ESPN.  I do NYTimes when I have the time.  And I must say, we are very happy to not have TV.  It is a time killer.  And it keeps you all upset reporting on things you cannot control.

The fog is thick tonight.  And it is very cool.  Great sleeping weather.  We have not brought our lights over and there are very few lights here…it’s an older house and outlets are few and far between.  No ceiling lights except down the hall and kitchen.  So, that is why I write from the comfort of the bed.  That plus it seems so civilized.  Didn’t many great minds of the ages compose in bed?

My new kitchen is going to take some getting use to.  It’s not the best design for me.  The kitchen sink is across the room from the stove top…with an island in the middle.  Don’t know how I’m going to adjust to that configuration yet.  And I don’t like the brand new dishwasher.  Not enough choices and the racks don’t move smoothly.  Oh, dear.  Such a kitchen diva, I am.  I’m sure I’ll need to write about it in my book which I haven’t spent one minute on since mid-July.  Must get back to it.  That will require that I get back in the kitchen to create some havoc that I can write about.  Shouldn’t be a problem!!  I feel dinner parties in my near future.

 

 

 

 

 

Well.  I’m a very disturbed person tonight.  It’s 11:16 p.m. and I just spent an hour on a blog and save it to draft and disappeared it.  Unbelievable ending to an unbelievable day.  My biorhythms must be off.

But I digress.

This story needs to be told from the end rather than the beginning.  So here goes…again.

Monday morning I drove over to the new house, which I will henceforth refer to as “the place.”  As I pulled up a man approached me with a paper door hanger and he explained to me that the city was resurfacing our street on Friday and all vehicles must be off the street on Thursday night.  Well, I explained to the man that we were moving in, a POD was being delivered tomorrow and picked up on Saturday.  The man then explained to me how the cow ate the cabbage.  OMG.  So, I jumped on my phone, called the POD people, explained the situation and they agreed to squeeze us in and pick up the POD on Thursday.  Well, that was dandy except that the movers were only available on Thursday p.m.  OMG.  So a call was made to the movers and luckily they had just had a  cancellation for Wed. morning…phew.  Just by the hair of our chinny, chin, chins.

So…as promised, let me retreat to the end of the story.  It was 10:15 and I was waiting for the Rayman to return to Uncle Ralph’s house.  He was at the place waiting for the garage door repairman to fix the garage door.  What?  Yes, folks.  This is how it went down.  After a full day of unloading boxes, rearranging boxes…we decided to order fish tacos to go and take them to Uncle Ralph’s house to eat.  As we were backing out of the driveway, the Rayman hit the garage door remote and all hell broke loose.  The door started weaving and heaving erratically.  He stopped the door, we jumped out and after an inspection decided we were in big trouble.  All our stuff was in boxes in the garage.  And we couldn’t shut the door.  The rollers had popped out…amongst other things.  So, while I was googling “garage door repairs”…the Rayman came in and notified me that while attempting to fix the door, he needed a ladder but in order to open the ladder, he needed to move the golf cart…which he did.  Then he put the door in manual mode and door fell on the golf cart.  Here’s a picture.

Serious discussion ensued after I forcefully requested he keep away from the situation and go pick up the tacos.  So, while he was gone I managed to reached Terri, the woman who answered the phone at the garage door repair number.  After explaining the situation, she left the phone and I heard her call Billy.  “Billy, I have a lady on the line with a serious safety problem and needs someone to fix the garage door tonight.”  Then I heard her say, “Yeah, yeah.  Okay then.”  She came back to the phone and told me that Billy couldn’t make it as he had plans.  The she said she would call John.  In the middle of paging John, she exclaimed, “Oh, no.”  Then she came back to me and said, “John can’t do it.  He broke his foot yesterday.”  About that time her other phone rang and Billy was on the line.  Yes, he could do it but it wouldn’t be until 9-9:30 p.m.  And that is how I arranged for the repairman who drove up at 8:45.  He told us the door needed repair and he could do it right then and there.  And that’s why the Rayman didn’t return to Uncle Ralph’s house until after 10 p.m.

Does snake bit having meaning to you?  After first incurring a $2100 bill for our water heater debacle in the old house, and owning the new place for exactly 48 hours, we were now in the position to shell out an additional $800 for garage door repairs.  OMG.

Oh, well.  We figure it could have been worse.

The other thing of note is that I had arranged for Beau to visit his sister and when I was leaving the house I noticed something sticking in the back tire.  So on my way to pick up the Beaumeister, I stopped by the tire store.  Yes indeedy.  The tire was leaking as a result of the thing that was sticking in it.  Well, the tire store does not take appointments which meant I had to wait for the repair.  So, I ducked around the corner to the Urgent Care storefront and asked if someone could remove my splinter in the palm of my hand  (I had acquired it on Monday and I have no idea where our drugs are, the needles are.)  Well, folks, this required the filling out of forms, my blood pressure was measured (110 over 70), my temperature was taken (98.1), my pulse was measured (67)…all for the removal of a splinter.  Then a Doc came in who was perhaps 100 pounds overweight.  I learned that internationally he has only traveled to Canada, his wife love the heat so they live in Paso and he grew up in Wyoming.  By that time the splinter was gone and so was I.  I picked up the car and drove over to fetch the dog…only the car started making a weird sound.  So, I asked Jay, the dog sitter, to ride around the block with me so he could listen to the sound and advise me on what it could be and what I should do.  He agreed and we drove around 3 blocks and the noise never presented itself.  It felt like I had gone to the Dr. and the symptom then disappeared.  Embarrassing comes to mind.

Now the reason that the dog was farmed out was because the movers arrived at 8:00 a.m. to unload the POD.  And floor guy was arriving at 9:00 a.m. and the place was abuzz with activity.  5 people total…plus me and the Rayman.  While we were essentially directing traffic, the floor guys were tearing up the parquet that was under the carpet pad.  This activity resulted in loud noises and dust galore.  Rayman had cleverly stuck the golf clubs out of the way in a cabinet in the garage that the movers saw fit to block with boxes and by the time the Rayman discovered his predicament, it was obvious that the boxes needed to be moved as we were planning to take Friday off and play golf.  Never mind that I had suggested he put the clubs on the back of the cart.

But I digress.  I am here to report that the floor guys had an eclectic taste in music as they played a radio all day.  Bam, bam, bam…”Lay, lady, lay”, bam, bam, bam.  “…lonely hearts club band”.  And so it went.  As I unpacked boxes and tried to organize the kitchen, the dust permeated everything.  So, in not wanting to wait, I made more work for myself.   We should have waited but who knew.

We have the guest bedroom set up but the dust and the smell of burning wood (? who knows what those floor guys are really doing) is so off-putting that we decided not to stay.  And that’s how we ended up at Uncle Ralph’s house again.

So, it’s Thursday morning.  Rayman is at the house.  I’m getting ready to leave and wondering…what the heck is in store for us today.  The bedroom dressers are outside by the slider of the master bedroom waiting for the floor to be done.  The dining room furniture can’t be placed yet because the moulding has been removed for part of the area.  We’re all sharing the master bath for our elimination needs because the other bathroom is full of flooring.  The plywood that was ordered came in half sheets rather than full sheets so the floor guys are waiting for that problem to be rectified.  The living room “area” has a huge pile of old parquet chips that must be removed…and the beat goes on.

We’ve just checked into a Quality Inn in Weed, CA.  Quite the garden spot but after our experience in the 19020s stone cabin, I’m not whining.  Much.

 

 

I’m not sure I adequately described the stone cabin.  It was very old.  No air conditioning.  The bed was in a niche in the kitchen.  The niche had a window at one end and was shaped in a U configuration.  To “board” the bed, I had to step on a step up to get into the U area.  The mattress was without box springs and it fit exactly into the niche.  Rayman refused to sleep there.  The picture over the “bed” is pictured above.  So he relegated himself to the creaky old hide-a-bed in the living room.  The carpet was dirty.  Additionally you had to take two steps up into the kitchen to get to the bathroom.  Without light, you could easily break something as you fell because you missed a step.  On the plus side the kitchen was well stocked with many fabulous utensils but who wanted to cook there?  it was too darn hot.

But I digress.

We’ve spent 4 days in Corvallis and it was fun.  Cute little city.  Did meet a woman on the side of the road (dog walking).  She was holding a sign that read, “Honk of you don’t want Wal-Mart”.  We talked awhile.  She is an army of one trying to roust people from apathy to action.  Hope she is successful.  She appreciated our positive comments re: her endeavor.  But that was yesterday.  Oh, we also drove up Marys Peak (uhm).  Here’s some pictures.

 

Opps.  That’s a picture I snapped while standing at the cash register in Sunnyside Up, a breakfast joint.  Is that a pun?   Thought it was funny.

 

We’ve had a quite a day of it today.  After bidding adieu to dear Ryan, we headed south to our new adventure.  Our new home.  Today is Friday and it is the day that the money is to be wired to the title company.  It is also the day to check up on our wood.  Wood flooring was ordered and we wanted it to be delivered to the house so it could acclimate to the new environment.  Phone calls ensued.  By talking with the wood man, it was discovered that our street where the new house is located is under some kind of construction and the wood could not be delivered.  Plus, the wood store owner hadn’t been able to reach the owners to gain entry.  So…here we are zooming down the highway trying to figure out what in the world is going on.  Calls are made.  Messages are left.  Mr. J is not taking to this situation the way I would prefer.  Final, final.  The city of Morro Bay requires a permit for our POD to be delivered and parked.  The street is being dolled up and resurfaced.  They may do the resurface on Friday.  The POD doesn’t leave until Saturday.  Really, people, does this kind of thing happen to you?

 

The other thing is the Beauzer.  I decided that we should stop in the doggie park in Ashland on our way to Weed so that the Beaumeister could stretch his legs and romp a bit.  We had bread, peanut butter, jam with us.  We could eat while there.  But first an iced coffee was in order so as to wash down the sandwich.  As usual, we got lost twice.  Once trying to find the Starbucks.  The other when were trying to find the dog park.  Then as I was making the PP&J sandwiches, Rayman and Beau gained entry into the park and immediately Beau rolled over in a big pile of poop.  Rayman was beside himself.  When I brought the sandwiches, Beau was on the leash.  Rayman was upset and there I was in the middle.  So, I got on the phone, found a place in town that sold pet “wipes” and drove there and bought them.  Then I made a small request.  “COULD YOU PLEASE GET IN A GOOD MOOD?”…the rest of my diatribe is edited for privacy concerns.

 

So, as I sit in our room blogging the status is that it may be okay to move into our house that is located on the exact street the city is working on.  The dog is chewing a bone as he lays on the bed and the Rayman is looking for the closest river access so that we can all just go and “COOL OFF”.

 

One last thing.  When we arrived and loaded our bags onto a trolley for easy transport, I asked the Rayman, “What’s our room number?”  He replied, “They are in the front seat.”  The beat goes on.