From Here to There and Back Again

Visiting on the Central Coast is so confusing. And wonderful. And a tiny bit sad.

I drove up to visit, among others, my sister Kittie and her husband David. I stay at the Motel 6 when I'm up there because it's cheapest and I'm not on vacation, so the surroundings while I sleep are not of too much concern to me. And it's cheap.

Arrangement of objects with no apparent function

It's only fair. Kittie and David have been coming down to Pasadena every other weekend since Steve died. At times, their arrival was the only thing that saved me from insanity, I'm sure. (Well, maybe just delirium). I have promised the first opportunity, I'd come up. They were having a stay-cation last week, so I visited from Sunday to Wednesday.

Even though I wasn't staying with them (the house is small!), I did spend the majority of my time with them. It's a neat place; an old "beach cottage" from the middle of the last century, from its looks. They have a corner double lot, which means a big back yard and lots of room in the garage and storage shed for David's STUFF. Some folks might look at it and say he was a hoarder, but this is not so: he spends too much time maintaining and organizing it, and he utilizes stuff when he needs it.

Back yard fountain

The back yard has fruit trees complemented by a lawn of native biomass (a nice way to say well-trimmed weeds), but with this drought gripping everyone, when those with a manicured lawn are paying through the nose to water it, just so it dies slower, their natural approach seems smart to me.

Inside and outside the house, there are things that catch your eye, almost like strolling through a museum of modern art. You have to suspend analysis, intellect and judgment and just encounter the pieces all around you.

From old tanks to temple bells

There are the wind chimes in the front yard fashioned out of old acetylene tanks that strike deep tones reminiscent of a large Japanese prayer bell. They interplay with the tenor tones of the wind chime on the back porch. Then there are things seemingly scattered that, upon closer examination, have been arranged in some eclectic abstraction.

The inside of the house is likewise stocked with an overflow of objects, but arranging the collections makes them valid as collections: there are no piles. The walls are covered with a wild assortment of artwork and the innumerable shelves hold groupings of a dozen different collections: dragons and shoes in every form (from small reproductions to the handles of canape knives), just to mention two.

A line drawing of a woman
done in pipe cleaners

Each and every thing has a story behind it, from the very first gift Dave gave Kittie (a monster pedestal candle) to the dozens and dozens of coffee mugs that hang on the walls (and ceiling!) of the kitchen. The longer I stayed, the more I saw, the more questions I asked. It was really fun.

So after checking into the Motel 6, I drove over to their house, and we ended up ordering Chinese and watching "Cosmos," which we are all following with dedication.

Monday morning Kittie and I went over to visit our nephew CJ and his wife Renee (who I had never met but have been following for several years on Facebook). Unable to join us, David had to go into work (on his vacation) to rebuild the forklift. (He works at a very large printing business). It was obvious he was not happy about this, but my suspicion is saying "no" was not an option just then.

Renee is a very pretty woman with three dogs. This has made it difficult for them to find a place to rent, but she put it out there on Craig's List and landed a roommate situation that seems to be working out nicely. The three dogs are a pit bull (and the sweetest dog ever), a German Shepherd (warm-hearted, with the biggest ears I've ever seen on a dog) and a little rat terrier/chihuahua mix that loves to wear sweaters.

CJ had to leave for work at 1 o'clock, so we got there early enough to visit a little and then have Uncle Mark take them out for breakfast (at a place called Huckleberry's). Good breakfast, great company. But like all visits, it was too short. We dropped Renee and CJ off back at their house, and then checked in on our potential afternoon visit with my longtime friends, Bob and Vena Norton.

Vena has had health problems and was getting adjusted to a peritoneal shunt that she had installed (replaces the need for dialysis but can be tricky to balance out). We called ahead to make sure Vena was in the mood for visitors, since Bob had said the previous night had been a little bumpy. Vena said, sure, come on over, and so we hopped into the car.

When we got there, Bob was almost on his way out the door, having numerous errands to run (it was obvious he was taking advantage of our visit to get them done). Vena looked a little on the tired side, and I could tell she was still adjusting to the shunt, but she was in great spirits.

We spent a long time catching up, since I hadn't seen her for almost five years. I had wanted Vena to officiate at our marriage, but with Prop 8 looming over us, there was no time to coordinate a full-on wedding ceremony. We had said that, when the Supreme Court rules, we would have a real wedding. Unfortunately, the ruling came just after Steve's terminal diagnosis. Sometimes timelines just don't work out.

Heading back home, we took a chance and stopped by the bakery in the village that makes the best chocolate eclairs ever. There was a parking space! They were still open! They had five eclairs left (and we only needed three)! I bought a couple monster macaroons to nibble on watching TV at the motel.

Kittie was talking about putting together a tomato-basil pasta dish at home, but I talked her out of it (it's her vacation, for goodness sake) and took them out for some really good Mexican food at Old Juan's in Oceano. Afterwards was hanging out and visiting (I think "The Big Bang Theory," Kittie's favorite program, was also part of the evening) and eating those wonderful eclairs. Around 10, I headed back to Motel 6. The macaroons were just awful.

Tuesday morning I headed out for another visit, this time with almost-as-longtime friend Lisa Woske. Lisa had sort of been adopted by my mother and Aunt Kit, and she's been a family fixture for years and years. She's also just a really sharp, no-nonsense person, and I always feel energized and grounded by my time with her. Does that make sense? No matter; she is very special to me: My precious. (Well, I had to get a "Lord of the Rings" reference in somewhere or the post title makes no sense!)

We got together at the Budget Cafe, which is a good brunch place, though not as "budget" as it once was, since it's prolonged popularity brought slowly climbing prices. Still, you get really good food, and that's what you're paying for, after all.

I dropped by Kittie and David's in the afternoon and, once again, David was working on the forklift. He popped in and out a couple of times, having to stop and shower and change for a 3 o'clock dental appointment, then returning, putting on the sweaty work clothes again and heading off to work. He was not a happy camper.

Kittie and I just relaxed in the back yard and visited, talked about their efforts to sell their property, along with development plans, to a spec contractor; pulling their equity out and getting a multiple unit building for income in eventual retirement; my plans for selling my house and the process of getting it into shape to show.

Tuesday evening Kittie finally got to do the tomato-basil pasta (which simmered most of the afternoon). It was really-really good; perhaps a tad too much olive oil, but still delicious. Around 10, I said my farewells, as they were going to San Luis Obispo the next morning, spending a day as tourists and staying the night at the Garden Street Inn bed and breakfast. I was heading out by 11 a.m. to beat the rush hour back in L.A.

The drive back on Wednesday was not daunting at all other than being fast (75mph) and crowded. The cats were glad to have me back. I was glad to be back. I nuked a frozen dinner and flaked out. Thursday I slept late, recovering from the stress of re-entering the this-is-not-a-war zone we call L.A. Today I've been reassessing all my lists and plans in light of Realtor Jan's comments and suggestions.

Now I'm looking at everything and asking two things: "Do I want to ship this to Wisconsin?" If the answer is "no," it gets donated. If the answer is "yes," then I ask "Can I pack this away and still live in the house comfortably?" A "yes" answer means I have to start packing for the move.

Box Store, here I come again!