Travels with The Rayman

It’s hotter than hades here. And I just can’t get over these women running around with long double-breasted coats, scarves on their heads, clothes underneath. It is really unbelievable that these women put up with this tradition. I’m sorry to say this but from my perspective, this is nuts. As with all religions, it seems to be about men controlling women. And it seems particularly cruel since the muslims live in all the hot spots. Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, Saudi Arabia…the whole Arabian peninsula. They don’t live in Alaska and the Antartica. And of course, they live in hot, hot, hot Turkey.

Okay. So I have a question. How do the Turkish women use a Turkish toilet? I have to admit that I have never tried to use a toilet that requires you to squat. So that makes me a neophyte. Today necessity required that I do so but I didn’t’ know what to do. Do you face forward? Backward? Sideways is out of the question but that’s about the only thing I was sure of re: the W.C. of this variety so I just let my imagination run wild. I was wearing a levi skirt that is about knee high…thank goodness. However, what do I do with my underwear? Just saying. After trying different positions, I settled on a plan that required me to take one leg out of my undies and do the best I could. The question of whether I peed on myself remains unsettled. Oh. And then it came time to “dry” myself. What? No toilet paper. How was that suppose to work? Not very well was the answer to that question. And I certainly will not bore you details now. Enough humiliation for now. Suffice it to say, I’m glad I went but I was completely not glad the way I went. But this led me to wondering how the the Turkish women do this? Let’s see. Undies, long pants, robe or coat…and sandals in some cases. It boggles the mind. I know what I am going to do when I get internet access again. I’m going to google “how to use a Turkish toilet” and “how do muslim women use a Turkish toilet”. I need to know.

Having said this… we’ve been here for days now and this is the first time I’ve seen this “arrangement”. And I was forced to use it because we were on a ferry that took us from the Golden Horn to the Bosphorus Strait to the edge of the Black Sea…a captive audience if you will. And on that cruise, I figured out how I would make money in Turkey. Cushions. Yes, cushions. It turns out that the coolest spot on a ferry is the outside and the only seating available on the side of the ferry on the outside is made of wooden planks. Wooden planks are very uncomfortable on your derrière. Therefore, if i could start a company that rented cushions, I’d make a fortune. Because really, my derriere is still sore tonight. And I did a fair amount of standing up for the 2 hour-each way cruise up the Bosphorus Strait. And people would love me for thinking of this elegant solution. Of course, the ferry company might prohibit me from doing this because…well, they could do it. Palms would have to be greased. Asses kissed perhaps. I’d have to donate to politicians campaigns. Oh, heck. Forget it already. I think I’ll just suggest the ferry company rent cushions for their customers’ comfort. After all, I am retired.

The ferry may have been the only place that was “cool’ today because of the breeze generated by the moving ferry. It was about 90 today with high humidity and I understand this will continue for the rest of our stay. Glad I left my fur at home. And when we travel to Cappadocia, it will be in the interior of Turkey. I may have to stay in my cave hotel for the duration as I am told caves stay cool.

The end of the line brought us to a small village that was made up entirely of tourist traps…food and trinket traps. We were held captive there until the ferry started back…about 2 1/2 hours. I’m happy to report that the one toilet I used at the restaurant was modern and clean and did not involve squatting. It’s the little things in life. We spent the time eating, drinking, looking for a nonexistent park, eating some more and drinking some more because that is the only way we could get near the water. Six steps away from the water and air got hot and the breeze was no where to be enjoyed. At the end of our time there, we jumped backed on the ferry and cruised back. The cruise itself was instructive because the Bosphorus Strait cuts Istanbul into two parts. One part of the city is on the European continent and the other half of istanbul is on the Asian continent. The only city on earth that straddles two continents. And since all peoples of the world like to live near the ocean, this city of about 10 million people is comprised of dense neighborhoods with common wall residences. It is very densely packed. Zero lot lines would be a luxury.

 
Here’ some pictures. Above is our neighborhood from the water. Below is old and new.

 

A mosque and skyscraper. Below is an old fortress the Ottomans.

 
Ali and moi at the restaurant and a boy jumping from the bridge into questionable water…lots of debris and jellyfish that don’t sting.

On the patio this a.m. we discussed living in Istanbul. There are few codes..building codes, traffic laws as two examples. Boys can jump off bridges with impunity. Air quality and water quality are not good. Here is a government that doesn’t have a lot of “intrusion”…perhaps what the conservatives of our country want. This doesn’t seem like a good idea to us…as a group on the patio. Give rules, regulations, oversight to any of us on the patio. It seems prudent. Drowning our government in a bathtub doesn’t seem like such a good idea as we stare out at the neighborhood before us. Just saying.

So, it is off to grandma’s for tea this p.m. And to a church with fabulous mosaics. Hope we don’t roast to death while doing this…another hot day is forecasted.

We have just visited your city for day and we have a few observations for you to consider.

We aren’t in wheelchairs and it’s a good thing. How would we get up and down the subway stairs? Escalators are few and far between. Elevators are an endangered species. Really, retrofitting is way behind. People with disabilities are having a very difficult time with their mobility on the subway.

Secondly, we want to thank the city you represent. The people were wonderful which left us scratching our head. Rude New Yorkers? Where? Several men in booths came to our assistance when we were dazed and confused in the subways. Young people offered to help schlep our big suitcase on more than one occasion. People happily gave us directions when were bewildered. We were wished well wherever we went. People were kind and considerate. We loved the New Yorkers and you, Mayor, should be proud of our citizens.
It occurred to us that if your people would turn off a few lights money could be saved. And we wondered when we saw this sign…do people refuse to visit or work in offices without fire sprinklers? What law caused this notice and why? Must be an interesting back story.

On Sundays we think it would be helpful to have more trains running on the AirTrain around JFK airport. We were crushed on our car and it was hard to get on and harder to escape. A few more cars would have made it easier on all concerned. Having said that, my dear reader must be wondering why we were even on the AirTrain. When we checked out from the hotel, I asked the Rayman what the plan was for getting to the airport. “Subway”, he reported. “Really?”, I asked. “The lady said the bus was very slow, I’ve redistributed the weight in the bags for easier handling and I think we’ll just take the subway.” Well, I must report my shock and dismay. As reported in the Tau of Pooh, if you just Pooh things…it becomes easier, less stressful. And so that is how we ended up on the AirTrain.

The subways were clean, sort of. I was taken back by the big rat that scampered down the platform this a.m. That was a bit off-putting. I did not notice graffiti. That was a bit of a surprise. With hundreds of miles of track and multiple layers of tracks, that is no small undertaking. All the fare machines worked. Our biggest problem was not the signage…it was our own confusion as to where we going. Uptown, midtown, downtown…in relation to what? And wasn’t the Statue of Liberty in Hudson River? or was the museum in Central Park?

So, thank you Mayor. You and your city have done yourselves proud. I think we’ll return…that is we will be returning in a couple of weeks for 4 days. This time in Brooklyn.

Oh, one other thing. There should be a law that a cab driver in NYC can take a fare to New Jersey, say Newark airport. As it was explained to us, the two states’ cabbies can’t cross state lines without a hugh ball of red tape which made the hotel desk attendant to remark, “That’s why I always avoid Newark. It’s actually closer than JFK, but getting there by cab is more expensive and requires two cabs, not one.” Seems to me they should call a truce and get over it all ready. Can’t we all just get along? Think of the poor tourists. Fix this problem and travelers would be happier as would the locals, I’m sure. Heck, the euro is a shining example of cross border cooperation. Opps. On second thought.

So, Mayor, we plan to tell all our friends to visit NYC. It’s very big, full of people but they are wonderful people.

Well. This has been quite the week in our household. Two rounds of golf with the crazy babes (an annual trip) out of town, home, accepted an offer on the sale of our house, greeted Nancy, the dog sitter from Ridgecrest, and her sister, Ginger, from Georgia, finished my packing and left for Turkey yesterday as promised. Never a dull moment. If the house deal goes thru, we must be out by July 31. EEEKKKKK. But can’t we all count on things like this. Murphy’s Law, it’s known as.

We are wedged between monster buildings just around the corner from The New York Stock Exchange. A 7 story hotel among high-rise buildings. It’s location has advantages and disadvantages. The city gives off a constant hum as though a group of giant generators lay just below the cement…think turbines at Hoover Dam. It’s amazing in it’s consistency. The only noise that attracts attention are the occasional wale of a police sirens, an occasional rowdy yell of an inhabitant down below. Closing my eyes I imagine the surf of the Pacific roaring. And it was that sound that lulled me into a deep sleep midday in midtown. My body was upside down with the time change and lack of sleep yesterday. Oh, I did manage to sleep an ambien-induced sleep practically sitting straight up in the cattle car of the fuselage of coach class of our Delta 757. I barely remember the take off and struggled to wake up for the landing. A restless leg kept waking me up but the ambien, she was strong and kept putting me back under once the twitching stopped. The Rayman thus struggled with a half awake traveling princess off the airplane at JFK and into the sweet arms of terminal 1. We had managed to carry on one bag with wheels, a backpack, a rolling computer/everything but the kitchen sink type carry-on. We checked one big orange rolling suitcase which we now had to find. But a Peet’s coffee cried out and we stopped to get our caffeine fix which then required carrying cups and thus became a big pain in the arse.

Overlay on top of this scene the knowledge that it would cost us $52 by taxi, $17 by bus, and $7.50 by subway to get to our hotel, I pleaded with Ray to take the subway. He relented and things were going swimmingly well until we got lost and didn’t know whether to take the train on the left or ride side to reach our destination. Rayman was becoming agitated. And then we discovered that there was no elevator to lift us up to ground level which meant he had to pull up two suitcases and while doing so lost control of one of them (the heavy one), and it went tumbling down the stairs back to the platform. It is very interesting to see a seemingly calm man erupt so quickly into poisonous four-letter word spewing man. Something about hearing the words “”me, I’ll never do this again, I’m too damn old for this”… knitted together in one long sentence with a snarling face that tells me to shut up and act cheerful. After that passed, Rayman retrieved the fallen luggage and we went on our way and eventually found ourselves out of the subway and onto the quiet calm of the City…quiet except for his huffing and puffing. The was hardly anyone there. Saturday morning is a great time to be in uptown, or is it downtown? I’m not sure. But all the 1% had left town for the weekend and we had it almost to ourselves. Except for the filming crew for the new Walter Mitty movie starring Ben Stiller (Ben Stiller, really? Walter Mitty? I’m not convinced that he was the best guy for that role. Wasn’t Walter a hen-pecked type shoveling through life without enthusiasm?) Walter would never had a tirade in the subways, would he? No. So…the Rayman wasn’t a good casting choice either. But I digress.

The film crew was shooting car scenes with old cars. I wanted in the worst way to jump out unexpectedly into the street in the hopes of being captured in digital form securing my fame for posterity…but I was afraid of the unintended consequences on the Rayman as he was still in recovery mode. Silently we both stood watching the cars go forward, the director yelling, “Cut”. The cars backing up to their previous spot. My. These guys are meticulous.

It was too early to get into our room, but the lady behind the desk let us store our bags and out we went to find a bite to eat. This led us to Wall Street where I took some pictures which I shall add later because I FORGOT THE CAMERA CONNECTOR CABLE. and now have to go out and find one to buy. Which I will and add the pictures later…say tomorrow. In the meantime, we were standing in front of the American icon for the the rich, the NYSE, and I noticed a big brownish red doberman. That got a conversation started with the dog owner. “Does he live in an apartment?”, I asked. “Yes, I live in this building right here.”, he announced as he gestured his head toward the building behind and above us directly across from the NYSE. (How much could that cost, I wondered.) “Do you have doggie parks?”, I inquired. “Yes, but we frown on doggie parks. They are not clean. We prefer just walking our dog.”, he replied. “How about a beach?”, I continued. “Yes, there are beaches, but that’s not ideal. We owners let it be known that we don’t like dogs on the beach and so it is frowned on.” , he further explained. Blaise or Blaze was the female dog’s name. I wonder how it all works for the metro dog. Then he told us he will be taking the dog to Newport Beach on Thursday for some beach time. This dog knew how to pick it’s owner assuming she liked the travel. $150 each way please for the canine ticket. “oh, I’ve been flying her since she was a puppy so she’s used to traveling.” OMG. The 1% really know how to live. Below is a pic of a NYC dog park complete with fake tree and a real water feature.

 

 
While looking for a place to eat, we came across a bunch of vintage police cars as well as the General Lee. Guess they were there for the movie. You would find more car aficionados looking at vintage cars in Morro Bay than were there in Manhattan. NYers apparently aren’t into that sort of thing. The General Lee is pictured below along with an old vintage police car with interesting roof gear.

 

 

 

A nap ensued. Practically passed out but I only had one bloody Mary with my eggy quesadilla thingie I had for breakfast at a covered table in the alley behind our hotel. Not bad. Slept like a baby and so did the Rayman. He’d had a traumatic afternoon. After counting sheep, we showered, dressed and headed back to the subway. It was time to see Times Square. At this point the author must pause the forward button to do some reflection. Oh, a picture of me at brunch.

 

 
We were two of maybe five white people on the subway. The subway subterranean way of transport is supported by the fares of people of color. The white people are all above ground haling taxis, jumping into limos, boarding buses leaving people of color underground. It smacks of a caste system. Having said that, everyone we engaged with was helpful and pleasant. We were relieved not to have suitcases in tow. Free at last. So we rode the subway to 42nd Street, Times Square. What a place. A lot like Las Vegas without the legalized gambling. Wall to wall people doing silly things, taking pictures. In a way it was depressing. One big commercial ad. The signs were enormous. Read wasted electricity. The shops were gouache. Bubba’s Shrimp, Olive Garden, M&M’s. Give me Champs Elysees any day. I guess it is quintessentially all-American. But I found it over-the-top-commercial. The other reflection is that the GOP politicians don’t ride subways. First. They are white. Second, if they did ride they would discover all the invisibles who might vote in the future. Their GOP party of above grounders’ days are numbered if they keep going the way they are going. And it seems to me that that is why the GOP is doing everything they can to 1.) support the 1%. 2) suppress the voting rights of poor people and people of color 3) get all the laws change that give them all the advantages…because the people may rise up in the future and they will need all the anti-people rights laws they can get. It also occurred to me down under the earth that perhaps Lincoln was wrong. Perhaps he and the country should have let the south succeed. The south really controls the U.S. government today. The speaker of the House is from Ohio which isn’t too south, but the Speaker of the Senate is from the South. Both Bushes were from the south. The previous speakers of the House hailed from Georgia (Newt) and Alabama (Lott). LBJ was from the south. Carter was from the south. Clinton, south. Sam Rayburn from Texas was from the south. And when they weren’t in the majority… they were the minority leaders. The southern way of governing has been contaminating the whole direction of this country for years and years. And I do find many leaders from the south uneducated, mean spirited, hypocritical, religious in a bad way. They fight against equal rights. They did it then. They are doing it now. They rail against the “government” while they benefit from more tax dollars going to their states thereby being supported by the northern states. They influence our text books (creationism/anti science), they fight a woman’s right to choose. They are dead wrong on most issues and yet those merry band of mean spirited guys wield much more power than they should… given the population. It therefore means that their backward ways keep this country from progressing. And they do it while representing a lot less people than the say New York or California. So, I think we should invite them to leave. I’m tired of my CA taxes going to Georgia, Mississippi, Alabama, Texas et al. Invitation to leave the union has a nice ring to it. Having said all that, don’t fact check everything. I may have a detail wrong here and there. But on the whole, I think I’m right. But I digress.

Back up on the street there are hop-on-hop-off buses and we were going to take one but the sales guy was just all transmit, no receive and we ended up saying thanks but no thanks. Then there was the guy that had two tickets he wanted to sell because his friend was sick and didn’t want to go. Right. We passed on that offer. It smelled funny. The camera cord was missing and so I was on a mission to find a camera store. Finally, after blocks of walking a camera store appeared. The guy sold me a device that would solve my problems. Then about an hour later, it occurred to me that the cord might be in my camera carrier. About that time Rayman said, “After spending all that money on that camera gadget, I don’t want to hear anything from you about how expensive the cab is if I want to ride in the cab.” Silence was forthcoming. I got the drift.

Finally, we took the subway from Times Square to Grand Central to see the architecture and eat. We crawled into the Oyster Bar restaurant and had a wonderful meal of fresh fish and veggies. Oh, and a bottle of wine. And that’s when things got really interesting. We actually, sat down, relaxed and had a meaningful conversation. The Rayman explained to me how annoyed he was with the suitcase/subway/only $7.50 fare. Apparently, I was still in a fog of sorts. Think of it as an ambien hangover. While I was semi dazed and confused, he was struggling with the two bags while climbing the stairs and a woman grabbed the bottom of one of the bags and said, “Here, I’m going to help you with this.” “Dianna, the Rayman, explained, “I’m too damn old for this. I’m not 40 anymore and it is just too hard. I lift and strain things. You lift and strain things, think France. Then the back goes and that really puts a damper on vacation. I don’t want to do it that way anymore.” We lifted our wine glasses and toasted our new agreement. From now on, no more penny pinching when it comes to transporting heavy things. This maybe very good timing. Moving requires lifting heavy things…hiring that out…priceless. I think the move just got easier. Subway art and the Rayman, Times Square and moi followed by a view from our table at the Oyster Bar Restaurant.

 

 

 
The rest of the evening was lovely and on the way back to Wall Street on the subway, we met a couple (he offered me a seat which I accepted and I offered him one when it opened up next to me) from Istanbul. We are on the same flight tomorrow. Ain’t life great?

As a postscript, I did have the camera cord after all…I am now missing the battery charger. Son-of-a-biscuit.

Hello dear readers. I’ve been gone from the blogging business as stated earlier to work on my book which is progressing nicely, I might add.

Today, it has become clear to me that my blogging must begin anew because of my dear friend, Patricia. Patricia is a friend that would probably give me the shirt off her back if I needed it. We have a rich a varied history which included a stint with a gourmet dinner group and a trip to London many years ago. She spent lots of time on East Coast, attending the Univ. of Maine as well as living in New Jersey for a time. And that is why I bring her up today.

We are getting ready to embark on our trip to Turkey and this will take us to New York. In an effort to say money, we decided to break up our trip to Turkey on the way over by flying a redeye and staying all night in New York City (NYC) one night and then boarded our Turkish Air flight to Istanbul the next day thereby avoiding a long torturous flight in the back of the plane. And then on our way home we decided to fly back to NYC from Istanbul and visit the place for a few days before taking the final leg of the trip home by flying out of Newark to San Francisco.

And then we looked for places to stay and I don’t recall how we did it, but we ended up booking an hotel in Brooklyn. The price was right. Now I have to state here and now that neither the Rayman nor myself are that familiar with NYC….and that’s why we’re going there…to get familiar.

Anyway, it occurred to me that I should call my friend, Patricia, and ask her where we should go, what we should see. Which is precisely what I did a few weeks ago. She said she would get a list together and call me back. And she did only I wasn’t home and she left me a message and I forgot to return her call until a couple of days ago. And then she called me back and this went on for a few days and we finally connected a few minutes ago. And I must say I haven’t been laughed at with such zeal in a long time. When we found out we were staying in Brooklyn, she said, “WHY?”. I said, “Price.”. Then she proceeded to ask where in Brooklyn and so I told her and she laughed, perhaps uncontrollably. She then told me that Brooklyn is on Long Island, a good ways from Manhattan. We will need to take a subway there and it will be at least 30-40 minutes each way. And we won’t be able to go back to our room during the day. She said Park Slope, the neighborhood, had been a slum but in recent years it has improved. OMG. More laughter. Uhm, uhm.

She then hung up to talk to her good friend, Nancy, who lives in NYC to see about Brooklyn. She called back and said, “I’m not going to tell you what Nancy said about Brooklyn.” Oh, dear. However, there was some mention spuddering on the NYC end of the line. And Nancy, may have asked, “Are they poor?” Patricia likened our staying in Brooklyn to visiting San Francisco and staying in Woodside. Or Palo Alto. Oh, no. That wouldn’t make too much sense. But in our defense, oh, heck. We have no defense.

All of this occurred at the same time that Patricia wishes we would have called her back because she was set to buy a ticket and take us around. OMG. I was embarrassed and annoyed with myself. Having Patricia as a guide would have been fabulous. But I digress.

She then told me to contact the hotel and find out how far away the subway was and that her friend, Nancy, had a friend that rented an apartment out for 5 days at a time in Manhattan and really, really, we should email him about and that she would call her friend, Nancy, and have Nancy email the info. A aside. Patricia can’t email me because her computer is down, hasn’t been working for months, perhaps years…and her telephone is listed under someone else’s name completely…I know this because of caller I.D.

And this is the same Patricia that met me in London, she having arrived several days ahead of me and my mom (my mom stayed with a friend of hers and I stayed in an hotel with Patricia) and then getting me at the crack of dawn the next day (what jet lag?) and dragging me all around the city walking here, walking there never returning until after the theatre let out (midnight) and then doing the stay routine for several days in a row before then boarding a bus to Wales with my mom and her friend, Peggy, and debarking at an hotel that sported red furry wallpaper in the lobby and where the elevators stopped at mid-floor landings thereby giving you the opportunity to schlep your bags up or down a half flight to a green fuzzy wallpapered room where I woke up the next morning with Patricia pounding on my door at 10:00 a.m. and wondering why I had missed breakfast. My god, she just wore me out.

And this is the very same Patricia that decided to make a nectarine mousse cake for dessert for one of our gourmet dinner parties and she “underestimated” the time required and showed up for dinner a respectable 2 1/2 hours past the start time. The mousse cake was fabulous though. My prime rib was overcooked, a disaster. Yes, we held dinner for her and while waiting, we all got tipsy on too much wine on an empty stomach.

And this is the very same Patricia that had a party for the 4th of July and made papadzules (a Mexican egg dish, Sand pronounced papa dew ees) and didn’t serve dinner until 11:30 at night…about the same time that guests just asked for doggy bags as they were leaving. It was late, for heaven’s sake. Also, the ice cream never got hard in the hand cranked machine that Glenda, another friend, brought and so Glenda refused to be further involved because the whole vanilla bean disappeared into the slosh of cream and egg yolks…a bad mistake by someone, apparently. In Glenda’s defense, it was late.

I could go on and on but you, dear reader, must surely have other things to do today.

As it turns out, our reservation is unchangeable and of the non cancel variety so we’re stuck in Brooklyn, Patricia declines to be involved in the debacle but she was kind enough to say that there were things to be done in Brooklyn that are quite interesting including theatre. So…not all is lost.

The day we left home, we received from Patricia a AAA Guide Book along with many handwritten pages of what we should see with the sights at the bottom of Manhattan listed at the bottom of the first page and as you work up the page, you also work yourself up Manhattan. Fabulous friend, that Patricia.

What a hoot. You can’t make it up and I’m sure this is just the beginning of a fascinating trip that begins in a week or so from today. Stay tuned.

Howdy to all Hope all is going good for you (or in southern, y’all)

What’s been going on around here? Nothing and everything. The big news is that I have started writing my book so that’s taking time away from my blog. There are only so many smarty-pants stories for me tell!! The book will be non-fiction…of course…and I will have to publish under a pen name or anonymous since I write about my friends…a constant source of silliness.

Let’s start with yesterday just for the sake of catching up. I played golf in a fund raiser for Cal Poly, SLO, Women’s basketball team. Someone asked me to play for free and I jumped at the opportunity. Playing free in a fund raiser is a bit of a contradiction but, alas, I ended up buy a uniform for a player at the cost of $180 so I tried to make it right. Anyway…I played with three men. One was a audiologist from Paso, one a sewage treatment guy from Pismo, and one from Cal Poly who is in charge of logistics for men’s team. Fun was had by me, Cathy Chatty. I don’t know what came over me but I just talked and talked and talked. In between breaths, I hit some great shots and made some clench putts and, boy, was that fun. We called the sewage guy, the Hawaiian Hammer. He drove one ball so far on a par 5, we only had 120 to the green. I took a picture. Here it is.

 

 
So, now, Rayman (an alumni of Cal Poly himself as he got his Masters there) and moi are going to become fans. These women are so impressive…and tall. The average GPA of the team is 3.9 and one of women sat at our table and she is majoring in mechanical engineering, no fluff here. I was so impressed by the entire organization. Go Mustangs!! We plan to go to games and have a lot of fun with the team…a new thing to do to keep things fresh and interesting.

So, what else? House is not selling. We continue to list it. Either it will or it won’t. We’re okay with it because what other choice so we have? The house next to Uncle Ralph is vacant…and it’s just like his. He brought this up to us yesterday. Uhm.

Day before yesterday we hiked to the top of the hill behind the house. Fabulous day. Met Adam, the wind rider, at the top. He was waiting for just the right wind conditions and had a remote control airplane to test the currents. Nice guy. And Beau loved the walk. He continues to delight. Here’s some more pictures.

 

 

 

Last Thursday we had friends of old over for dinner and barbecued pork shoulder. Yummy along with the orange cilantro salsa, the braised fennel and kale. Homemade ice cream AND cookies to top it all off.

 

 

 

Wine tastings, dinner parties, golf. What more could you ask for? Oh, I know, money but I don’t know anyone that would go along with that!!

So, now is the time to return to my book writing. It’s really fun albeit time consuming and when the sun is shining, it is hard to stay inside the compose.

Oh, next week we go to Sunnyvale and San Francisco to meet my cousin’s new grand baby which we hope to spoil as much as possible. Layla was born April 15 (gee, how will they ever remember her birthday?). Layla will be going to Turkey in June. Actually, we will be accompanying her to Turkey. An exciting trip awaits and we are slowing beginning to make plans. One of the big exceptions on this trip is that we are going to take a tour, therefore, we will not be getting very lost which is a shame because it always makes for interesting stories. We will visit the caves of Cappadocia (where Stars War bar scene was filmed) and see the fairy chimneys. Will try to sail to a Greek island just to say we went to a Greek island and will be in Istanbul for a week. Istanbul is Constantinople renamed and is the only city that is located on two continents…asia and europe. It promises to delight. We are so excited. So, stay tuned for more travels with the Rayman.

News on the home front…when wine tasting wear something red and white as I did the day I spilled a whole glass of red wine and my jacket and tank top. To the cleaners they went and all was forgiven. The stains disappeared much to my relief. The problem was created by me when I dove into the cheese and crackers too enthusiastically and hit the glass. Of course, the glass could have fallen the other way…but, oh, no. It came right at me.

Ray dropped out of his poker group when the guy that did the hosting said he had a gun in the bedroom and wouldn’t mind using it on him (Ray won a big pot). Ray decided the guy just didn’t like him that much…you think? The man has moved so maybe the group will reform (in more ways than one). Additionally, the Rayman has lost 3 more pounds mainly because of walking the dog…a very good weight-loss aid it turns out.

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