Atmospheric River! : Another Airport Experience

In March of 2023, we left Palm Springs for the Bay Area to try to organize the refurbishing of our old home in Richmond, California. I have to stipulate California, since most often when I say Richmond, folks say, "I didn't know you were from Virginia!" It seemed like a good idea to fly, rather than drive, since we usually take 2 days to accomplish the 8-1/2 hour trip. While getting ready to leave and trying to be very organized, I charged up all our electronic devices: both of our phones, my new wireless earbuds, my Apple Watch, the computer, and even a charger that my daughter gave us years ago, should we be without power to plug in while camping. I even made sure I had all of their respective power cords, storing them in a designated pocket of my backpack. We tried to find a good deal flying from Palm Springs, but they usually involved changing planes and detours to Denver or Boise, lasting up to eight hours. A flight from Palm Springs to SFO should only take about an hour and a half.

We finally decided to drive the hour and 15 minutes in the pouring rain to the Ontario airport, listening to the ominous news about the "Atmospheric River" that was coming our way. We had never heard of such a thing before, but it seemed like we were already in it. Our Prius needs new windshield wipers and makes irritating, loud fart-like noises when they're on regularly, so I keep on doing the intermittent speed, which almost blocks out your vision before the wipers clear the windshield. Huge trucks, many of them with the blue Amazon Prime swoosh logo on their sides, splashed and sprayed past us, their tires making mysterious noises as they went by.

As we pulled in to the airport parking area, the wind was raging, and the downpour made me turn the noisy wipers on full speed to be able to see at all. There was a nice handicapped parking space available, and we grabbed it, since we have the qualifying plates now. Doug, who is 81 now, can use all the help he can get. We sat for a moment to catch our breath, and realized that the rain had stopped! We got out our one suitcase and 2 backpacks, traveling light to get a low fare on Frontier. Covered with rain jackets, hats and an umbrella (my husband, who has bad memories of being raised in Seattle, always insists on one), we ventured out through the puddles.

As soon as we crossed the street, an airport shuttle pulled up, and a cheery driver said "Welcome aboard!", as she lowered the hydraulic bus and made a nice ramp pop out for us. It had just started to rain again, so I said to her, "What a blessing it is to have you stop for us!" At every stop, on the way back to Terminal 2, she helped everyone with their bags, and cheerily wished them safe flights. While driving, she (Diana) sang softly to some soul music she had playing from a little orange speaker on the dashboard. When it was our turn, she called out to us, "Have a Wonderful Flight!" and genuinely sounded like she meant it.

Our flight was on Frontier Airlines, since we were doing our best to be frugal. The $29 seats sounded attractive, but as you continue your booking, you realize that you must choose a seat for an Extra Fee! It was required that you sit, so the price went up. Frontier is known for no-frills, and we were made to understand that we would have to pay extra if we asked for ANY advice. Of course, when at the airport, I couldn't get my phone to connect to any internet to bring up our boarding passes, so I ventured sheepishly over to the desk, where a very kind young man showed me how I could get on to the Frontier app to bring up our passes, and then, to my amazement, showed me how to take a screenshot of them to have in my photos. (Just FYI, on an iPhone, you press the top volume button and the other side button at the same time, and voilá! It takes a picture, actually a screenshot.) I was happy to add this bit of information to my iPhone knowledge, since I'm the "I.T." person in the family.

He called for someone to bring us a wheelchair for Doug. That didn't work as well. We waited and waited, putting off going to the restroom, so we wouldn't miss them. Someone even came by, got him in a chair, and said, no, he'd have to get out again, because she was supposed to pick up someone flying on Delta. Finally, someone left one of the wheelchairs near us, and Doug, rebel that he is, talked me into taking it and pushing him myself. We made it all the way through security, with him steering our rolling bag with the computer bag on top along side, and carrying my backpack on his lap. After we finished security, one of the pushers was finally there to ask if we needed any help....

We accepted the offer, since I was getting tired of being the pusher. Doug, as the pushee, still offered to hold my backpack and the computer bag, while Luis, a short, man of about 60 years old, figured out how to attach the rolling bag on the back of the wheelchair. I walked along freely waving my arms at my side to exercise them. Maybe this would count as exercise on my Apple watch. When we got to the gate, Luis left Doug sitting in the chair, and bowed as he pocketed the $5 Doug handed him. After he left, an announcement came overhead that Frontier flight 192 would be delayed for over an hour because of the weather. Tired, Doug decided we had time to go get a drink. He spotted a "watering hole" close by, and off we went, once again pushing along by ourselves. The bar was crowded, and I left him with our things near a high counter and went to order two Manhattans from a harried bartender with wild looking red hair. Folks I chatted with mentioned that they had also been delayed because of what was being called an "Atmospheric River". We all guessed that it was better to be on the ground than in the air at this point. Doug and I finished our cocktails and we ventured back to our gate. They were just starting to allow pre-boarding, so that was cool. Luis showed up one more time to push the chair down the ramp. We got all settled in our seats, and had our one bigger bag and computer up in the overhead compartment, and our backpack at my feet. We watched the crowd of relieved passengers venturing down the aisle and trying, sometimes in vain, to shove their oversized bags into the overhead bins. The rain seemed to us to have slowed a bit, and we held hands and said an Our Father as finally the engines revved up. Just as the stewardess was beginning her instructions about seatbelts, the pilot came on, saying, "We're sorry folks, but air traffic control has said that we must offboard all passengers. You'll be notified when it is safe to come back on board. Sorry for any inconvenience. Thank you for choosing Frontier Airlines." Handicapped passengers are first on and last off, so we sat and waited until an attendant could help us lift our bags down. She said that there was a wheelchair waiting outside for us and we were glad to see Luis once again at the helm of Doug's wheelchair. Going Up the ramp was harder for him to navigate, but he didn't complain. He left us once again at the gate, pocketing another fiver. We had heard all about his family by this time. We could see the rain pelting down, once we were back at our gate. I realized that I hadn't charged my phone for a long time, and had used it a lot, but when I looked around for a plug near the seats, they were very few and far between, and all were used. This was partially due to the fact that this was a new wing of the airport, and it was still being furnished with seats. Some of them were old, and didn't have outlets attached to them, or if they did they were broken. Everyone had brought out their computers and phones and were taking the chance to charge up. I remembered something my neice Martha told me. She travels a lot on business, and always carries one of those power strips in her bag. She shares the plugs with others, and she says, "I'm very popular at the airport." I made a mental note to adopt that habit. Doug said, "Heck, it'll be awhile till we get to take off, and I'm hungry. Let's go over to that restaurant down the way. You could probably charge up there." So once again, I pushed the chair along on the carpet, with Doug holding our rolling bag out to the side, until we reached Rock and Brews, the same place we'd had a drink before. We decided to share their Smokehouse Burger, and each had another Manhattan....just because. I also found an outlet under our table to charge my phone and my Apple watch. Once again, we heard the announcement for boarding for Frontier Airlines, and paid our tab. I pushed us back to the gate, and eventually we were greeted by Hameed, who was assigned to glide Doug down the ramp to pre-board the plane. We knew right where our seats were, and our attendant, Alicia was there to welcome us back on board. "Hmm, haven't I seen you two somewhere before?", she kidded. "Let's hope this time it all comes together better!" After everyone was seated, Alicia and her cohorts went into their schpiels about safety and all. More people may have been listening this time, about where the emergency ramps were. We taxied out for a reassuring time, turning slowly every so often, and then the plane stopped, the rain pelting our windows. After an excruciating 20 minutes of silence, there was an announcement ping, followed by an apologetic pilot letting us know that we would be returning to the gate. When we got there, Frontier said that the flight had been canceled altogether because of weather. It turns out that we couldn't get a refund, since it was because of that, and not their fault. Many upset passengers were complaining that they would have to pay for their own hotel bill, since all flights were canceled. That would be us too. We went to our trusty Hotels.com app and found a hotel close by for a reasonable price, and bailed our car out of long term parking for $16. It was tempting to consider driving up to the Bay Area, but in the end, decided to rebook for the next day,..... but this time with Southwest. Next morning, the skies were cloudless, and after a fairly good night's sleep, I drove us back to the airport, singing the old theme from Sesame Street. "Sunny day! Sweepin' the clouds away..." We were professionals by now. We knew how to catch the wonderful shuttle, to the Southwest desk this time. The wheelchair pusher cheerily collected Doug and helped with our luggage, got us through security easily and to our gate. Doug doled out one of the many fives that he had in his pocket to Hakeem this time. The amazing "Atmospheric River" was finished with us by now. We started to have a new attitude about our ordeal the day before. Bouncing around in wind and rain in an airplane with no visablity wouldn't have been our idea of a good time. We think that next time we'll pay more attention to the Weather Channel.

Trapped in the Airport

Recently, my husband Doug and I flew from California to JFK on Delta Airlines red-eye flight. Our schedule was cutting things pretty close. We were to land at 8 AM, and his connecting flight would take off at 9 AM. He would go on to visit friends for a week in Virginia, and I would take an Uber to Connecticut to spend a week with my son and his baby while Mommy was going to be away at a family wedding along with her mother in Paris. The first part of our excursion went as planned. Doug was taken by an arranged wheelchair from check-in in SFO through security, and on to our gate, with me trying to trot along next to the quick-paced wheelchair pusher. I had taken a spill two days before, injuring my right knee, (a bad abrasion of the skin), and wondered at times if I should have asked for a wheelchair for myself, since it was so far to the gate. One good thing about needing a wheelchair is that you get to board first, and we got settled in for our 5 and a half hour red-eye flight, leaving at 11 PM, California time. Soon after we took off, Doug realized that he had left his cane on a luggage trolley back at SFO. "Darn! That was my new one that had shock absorbers. It's a good thing that I brought my old one in my suitcase!" I can never seem to sleep on planes, but made the nighttime reservation with the hope that I would. We both took our nighttime pills,and Doug promptly dozed off at take-off. I thought I'd play with my iPhone or listen to my Calm app to relax, or if that didn't work, I'd listen to the end of a Louise Penny, Inspector Gamache book on Audible. Then I discovered, to my dismay, that my phone was in near death mode, and the cord I brought with me to charge it was one of the newer, smaller models, and wouldn't work with the bigger socket on the back of the seat in front of me. I had the old-fashioned one in my checked bag. So much for the new earbuds that I had bought for the trip. I put them back in my pocket. I hadn't brought headphones with me, since my new phone doesn't have a place to plug them in, so I couldn't plug into the entertainment right in front of me on the seat. Finally, the attendant came by offering free headphones! I attempted to amuse myself with a couple of games, occasionally watching Doug peacefully sleep with his head on his chest. He's very talented that way. He awoke in time to have the offered applejuice and cookies, but dozed back off again shortly afterward. I ended up watching 2 and a half movies on the back of the seat in front of me with the earphones that the steward provided. I almost thought I'd see the end of the last one, since we kept on circling around New York, perhaps because of the turbulence we were experiencing. I grabbed Doug's arm as we bounced around, and he drowsily said, "Hmm? Oh, we'll be all right", and went back off to dreamland, to my envy. Time was passing, and I started to worry about Doug's connecting flight. We landed at 8:40, and though we usually stay seated to be one of the last ones off the plane so we don't hold everyone up, we tried to get up with our backpacks and stand in the aisle. Being at the middle of the plane didn't help, since everyone ahead of us was already crowding the aisle, pulling down their carry-ons. I had half-expected the flight attendants to announce that everyone should let the folks out first who had a connecting flight...but no. A young woman next to me in the aisle commiserated that she was in the same boat. Her phone was working, and she said her flight had been changed to 2:57! I recognized that as the other option I had when making our reservations. My son Lucas texted me wondering if we had landed yet. He said that he and the baby could hardly wait to see me. Hmm, I thought. We wondered if there were any earlier flights that Doug could take. Doug got a message that his Virginia friends had already arrived in DC, and to let them know when he landed there so they could pick him up. Uh-oh. When we finally reached the front of the plane, there was a nice man from Portugal waiting to pick Doug up in the wheelchair. He tried to figure out if we could still make it to our flight, but it was taxi-ing away. Uh-oh. We wondered if Doug's luggage had gone with it. The wheelchair man left us at a very far away gate, where he thought another flight was leaving soon. He strode away with the wheelchair, leaving us at a desolate gate with no one in sight. He said someone would be there in about an hour. I plugged my phone into a charger next to the seats, and then I walked around to find a restroom and look at any board I could find with lists of flights. I couldn't find the one he talked about at 10:30. I reported back to Doug, and we agreed we shouldn't just sit there, but without a cane, he couldn't walk far. We spotted one of the wheelchairs abandoned near the escalator, and there was a ramp going up to the next floor near it. Doug encouraged me to abscond with it, saying, "Go ahead! Be bold!", even though they're only to be pushed by the official pushers. The ramp was longer and steeper than we realized, and as I got toward the top, pushing him, with him holding our backpacks, a Jamaican woman dressed in a uniform called out, "You can't be pushing the wheelchair yourself! It's not allowed!" I huffed and puffed and said, "Just let me get to the top! I can't stop now!" "Okay, but you really shouldn't have done this!" She was nicer after she heard our story, and called around to find out if there was an earlier flight. She even had the manager of the wheelchair team come down, and some other Delta higher-up. They all did their best, but Doug just ended up being pushed what seemed like a mile, with me trying to keep up alongside him, occasionally hopping on a people mover to get a bit of a free ride. I waved as I went by. We ended up near the gate where he would leave from at 2:57, and they brought us to the restaurant nearby so we could have breakfast. They took away the wheelchair again, saying we could call someone to take him over to the gate later. We ordered one breakfast to share, and Irish coffees, with an "it must be 5:00 somewhere" attitude. With our phones plugged in, I contacted my son and Doug's friends with the update. His friend Sarah had decided to visit her sister in DC, so that was lucky, and I told Lucas I would try to figure out how to get an Uber to Connecticut as soon as I could. After breakfast, it struck me that I had never picked up my luggage, and we wondered where Doug's suitcase was too. I said I'd go try to find out, and he agreed, with the caveat that I try to find him a Wall Street Journal, since he was going through withdrawals from his daily printed paper habit. A Hudson News store was right across the way, and I got their last copy, so he happily sat esconsed with his paper in the restaurant. I walked and walked, following the signs pointing to baggage claim, making a call to Lucas as I went. My knee started hurting a bit, and I coveted any wheelchair I saw along the way. Finally, I'm almost there, and as I took one step through a door, I realized that there was a sign that said "No Return" that I had just passed. I turned around to be approached by a very officious looking security guard who told me in no uncertain terms that I couldn't come back in! I tried to explain what I was doing, and that "I'll be right back with our suitcases", and "look, just let me come back through the door, and I'll go join my husband again!" "No!", he said, pointing to the ceiling,"Cameras would see you. I would get in trouble! Just go to the office at baggage claim and they'll give you a pass to come back in." The baggage claim lady had a line of tired looking passengers, some with small children, and even though I hadn't slept all night, I felt blessed to be alone. I also felt proud of myself to find our baggage claim receipts in my pocket, and when she checked them on the computer, she said they were still circling around waiting to be picked up! It was hard to believe, but there they were, two lonely bags going round and round! She told me to go over to Delta on the other end of the airport to try to see if they could give me the pass to get back in to Doug.I walked another long way, pulling both of our suitcases, thinking that my Apple watch would be very proud of me for all my steps. When I finally reached my destination, however, getting a pass to re-enter the airport is something that, I was told, can't be done. They said that because I didn't have a ticket to go anywhere, I wasn't allowed to go through security! I had Doug's suitcase with his cane and meds in it. I told my sad story to the people that were in charge of wheelchairs, and by the time I talked to the third person, I got the manager. He reassured me that he would get someone to go to the restaurant to get Doug, (which he wouldn't be expecting), they would bring him out through baggage claim, and over to Delta check-in, where he could go through security once again with his suitcase that I had for him, but without me. I tried to call him to give him the heads up, but of course, as usual, his ringer was off on his phone.... I sat, wringing my hands for over an hour, and finally, he wheels up, furious that they wouldn't trust little old me to come back to get him myself. "Did they think that you looked like a terrorist?" I asked if we could sit together for a while until he calmed down, because then he would be taken over to check-in and we would say our good-byes for a week. We promised to keep in touch (he would keep the ringer on on his phone), we would call most days to try to do our Wordle game together, he would have fun with Tom and Sarah in Virginia, I would have fun with Lucas and Thea, and then we'd meet after that for Thea's baptism. After a tearful good-bye, I pulled my suitcase along with my backpack on top of it, and walked outside to order an Uber. Once settled in, I tried to spot familiar New York City buildings as we drove along, but then discovered that somehow, falling asleep in an Uber was much easier than on a plane.

Late For Mass!

Ever since our favorite priest, Father Oliver retired, from a church near to us in Nevada, we've followed him around like puppies, since we haven't found anyone who comes close to bringing us the message of Jesus. If you're a retired priest, you don't just sit around on your laurels. There aren't enough of the younger priests to go around to all of the parishes, so the retired ones take care of the shortage. Father Oliver really loves to say a mass when he's asked, so we've followed him down to Gardnerville, Nevada, and more recently to a small chapel in Coleville, CA, which is about an hour and fifteen minutes from our place in South Lake Tahoe. It's worth it to us to go to listen to him preach. He has a different way of presenting mass that makes you feel as if you're sitting around a campfire listening to Jesus. Every Sunday, he gives an explanation of each reading before it's read, along with personal stories, some from his life growing up in a big family in Ireland, that link in with each reading from scripture. When the reading is finally read, we all understand it more since it wasn't just recited by one of the layity. Everything is tied together neatly for us. He may say, "Thank you for listening to me. I know I do run on!" And we all look at each other and smile, saying with our eyes, that, "that's why we come!" The last couple of months, we've asked him if we could stop by his home to pick him up on our way to Coleville. It's become a regular thing now. He enjoys being able to look around on the beautiful scenery between Nevada and California along the way down Hwy 395, and afterward, 6 or 8 of the parishoners usually meet together at a nearby restaurant. Then we bring him home. I usually set several alarms to make sure we get up in time. He likes to leave home by 9 am in order to make it to Our Lady of the Valley in Coleville in plenty of time, so we figure that we should at least give ourselves about 40 minutes to get to his place, plus, time to make breakfast, get ready, etc. This morning didn't work out quite as expected. For some reason, I neglected to set all my alarms the night before. One alarm always goes off anyway on my phone, at 8 am, belting out "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", and it jolted me awake. I dreamily watched the pine trees out the bedroom windows as I relaxed back into the pillow, until, I sat up straight, like the mother in "Home Alone" when she realized the family had almost overslept for their flight to Europe. "It's Sunday!", I told Doug, "and it's already 10 after 8, and we'll be late to pick up Father!" That woke him up quickly too, and he said, "Oh no! We'd better get a move on!". "Let's just jump into our clothes and pick up something to eat at MacDonald's" "No time! There will be a line", I said. "I'm going to call the bakery down the street and have them fix us something we can pick up when we get there. We can eat it in the car." While I pulled up my pants and put on my shoes, I called and ordered a ham and cheese croissant, heated and cut in half and one large coffee, via speaker phone, that we would share in the car as I drove. "Smart cookie", Doug said as we walked out the door. I locked the door from the inside and we were on our way.....until I got to the car and the door wouldn't unlock. I felt for my keys, and found I didn't have them or even my iphone. I didn't even have the wrist pocket I use for a purse, holding my ID! Doug was almost to the car, so I said, "Could I get your keys from you? I left mine inside!" He felt for his keys and said, "Uh-oh! I don't have mine either!" "No? Gosh! It's a good thing we have a housekey in our outside storage!", I said, trotting down the path to our porch. I reminded myself of our younger neighbor who always walks so fast. But, when I opened the closet, the key wasn't where it was supposed to be! What now? I called out to Doug to tell him it wasn't there, and he started walking back to the house. Since we rent out our place sometime, I thought, all is not lost, there's a lock box with a key in it. I have the code on my phone.... but I don't have my phone! "Sweetheart! Hand me your phone so I can get the lockbox code from it." "Um. I don't have my phone either!" "Oh no!", I said. "I haven't used the code very much, but maybe I can remember it. I wracked my brain. "I think it's something like 1,2, something something." I started to frantically punch in several options, to no avail. "You do know that there might be as many as 9,999 possibilities, right?", he offered. "Now Stop that!", I snapped, "Don't be negative. We have to pray. What else are we going to do?" "Maybe the window is unlocked", Doug offered. "No. We Never leave them unlocked because of bears, right?", I answered. I was starting to lose hope. People were depending on us to pick him up, and we couldn't even call Father Oliver to tell them the situation and that maybe he should start driving himself to Coleville. 1,2, 6,7..1,2 5,8... Then I see Doug walking from the storage room with a screwdriver saying, "I was just thinking..." "What are you doing?", I whined. "It's worth a try", he says as he works at the screen on the window. "What are you going to do? Break open the window?", I say. But the next thing he does is slide open the window! "Remember? our neighbors said that the renters had the windows wide open with the heat up high?" "Genius!" I said. Thankfully, the window sill was low enough for me to climb right in, stepping only on some reuseable shopping bags that we had ready by the door. I ran over to the counter for my keys and wrist pocket and Doug's keys and his phone. I forgot my phone, but it didn't matter. We locked up again, and strode out to the car. "We'd better skip the breakfast we ordered", I said. "No! I'm hungry! And you might get a bad reputation at the Sugarpine Bakery if we don't pick it up.", he said. That was a thought. I drove down the street and tried to turn in to the exit driveway, and almost ran into someone coming out. I pulled sharply into another parking place and walked quickly into the bakery. "I'm the one who ordered...." "These?" she said as she placed them on the counter,"One ham and cheese croissant, heated and cut in half and a large coffee?" I started to tell her all that we had been through, but thought better of it, and brought it to the car. I took my half and started munching ravenously without even thinking, but I had to start thinking about driving. We hit all of the green lights along Hwy 50 toward the casinos, and then finally hit a red light, and took advantge of stopping so I could have a sip of coffee. I was shaking. "Try to calm down and concentrate on getting there safely", said Doug. "We're only going to be about 10 minutes late. We'll be fine." He tried to call Father Oliver, but he didn't answer. We tried once more as we came over Daggett Pass on Kingsbury Grade, but no answer. Then, at 8:59, we received a call from him as we were almost to his place. "We're running a little late, Father, but we'll be there in about 5 minutes! We'll explain later." He was waiting out in front as we drove up, and I tried to calm myself and drive, but as we recounted our last hour, I got all excited again. He was very forgiving of us, as we drove along. He even tried to distract me with comments about the lovely rock formations that he never noticed as much when he drove himself. By the time we drove by Topaz Lake, I knew we were almost there. "Good girl!", said Father Oliver. "You made good time, but you did drive pretty fast". "I'm sorry", I said as we pulled into the driveway to the chapel with 10 minutes to spare. "I bet you were saying your prayers there in the back seat!" "To be sure", he said. P.S. Three days later, just to show you that my mind was still thinking about Sunday morning, I awoke to realize that I had had my fairly new and unexplored iWatch on my wrist the whole time. I checked, and, sure enough, I could have looked up the list I had on my phone to see the combination for the lock box.

Rings On Her Fingers......

 It's been quite a while since I've written about what's going on in our lives. All the while that I haven't been writing, we've been busy remodeling our old family home in order to rent it out again (at a higher price)... We traveled back and forth from Palm Springs to Richmond, figuring out how to organize all the repairs, and we even put on two garage sales, that let us get rid of many things, but didn't make us very much money toward the cause. Some keepsakes were sold cheaply, or given to those folks that showed a genuine interest in them and the story behind them.

The one things that traveled back and forth and were always with me, are my rings. "You have so many rings on your fingers!" folks exclaim. Well, that's because there's a reason for every one of them.

My wedding ring is a story unto itself. Before Doug proposed to me, he went with his daughter Charity to the Costco jewelry department and got me a diamond ring to present to me at the Nantucket Restaurant, in Crockett, CA. We had been there before, and had even had a special walk out on the pier, where we would lay down on boards and cuddle while looking at the stars. Pretty romantic, eh? 

We sat at a picnic table outside, and he proposed to me with the beautiful ring, and I said yes, and then my cell phone rang. It was my ex-husband, and it was irritating to Doug that he should call at this time. I didn't pick up, but then he called again. I answered, and told him what had just happened, and that he shouldn't be calling me so often, but I would call him. Every once in a while I had to remind him, "Divorce, right?"

Time went on, and I got to tag along on one of Doug's many business trips to Europe to buy antiques for his store. He decided to make a side trip to Scotland once, and after we landed and drove to an inn, I pulled my hand out of my pocket, and a diamond was missing from my engagement ring! The little prongs of gold were empty. When we got home, we went to the Costco jeweler and they seemed to happily replace it. Another diamond fell out once again, though, and then I confessed that I would really rather not have a diamond that was so big, (It seemed like it could be used as a weapon!), so we asked that it could be returned and we ran off to the Oaks Jewelers, on Solano Ave, in Berkeley. I chose a modest, even cloudy diamond, lower than the others, and surrounded by three little diamonds on each side. I was happy, and I even saved Doug some money!

After a while, I wanted to have another ring on my left hand, but since I usually am attracted to silver rings, I thought it should be a gold one so they wouldn't clash. I'd call my left one "my gold hand". So, while on a trip to Capitola, a favorite beach town since my childhood, I went into a shop called Super Silver Capitola. They have lots of choices of jewelry and at least at that time, they only charged you by the ounce. I told the person that I wish they had something in gold, and she showed me a couple of bands that were gold-plated, warning me that the gold would eventually wear off, and it would be silver. For the price, I went for it, and the nice Celtic looking ring lived on the third finger of my left hand. Later, it moved to my right hand when, just as she warned, it lost its golden sheen.

I had bought another silver ring at that store before, which I still wear. It's one of my favorites. It's smooth and strong, and always shines, showing me it's wave-like design, reminding me of Capitola. 

The ring that gets the most attention, even from strangers, is the one that Doug bought me at the ranger station at Olympia National Park for 20 bucks. It has a beautiful swirly setting that catches the eye, and if the sun catches it right, the opal fascinates folks. I explain that it is made from little chips of opals, not a whole one. It's still the winner.

A couple of years ago, our granddaughter, Karis, started a little online business for herself, marketing the rings and other jewelry that she makes. I noticed one that I liked, one that she constructed amazingly out of silver wire, winding it around and around in a very pleasing fashion. She quickly made one for me and sent it to me. I hope you'll check out her website: bishopkarebear.wixsite.com. Tell her "Gramma Patty sent me".

My latest rings happened pretty recently. Doug discovered that we had known each other for 20 years, on April 11th, 2022. He wanted to get me a special ring to commemorate it. The trouble is, that my fingers are rather large, and everywhere we went to try to find that special ring, they didn't have my size 9 in stock. It was the supply chain, because of Covid, they said. (The old story...) Finally, in Macy's, I asked the person to measure my finger for the size, just to be sure. Next day, we looked online on Amazon (of course), for a size 9 ring, and I found one I liked.

It has small diamonds, is silver and has a kind of a twist in it that attracted me....sort of symbolizing our meeting. 

A couple of weeks later, before that ring arrived, we had a reason to look into our safe deposit boxes. There I ran across my mother-in-law, Helen's, (Tutu's) wedding ring. I tried it on the middle finger of my left hand just for fun, (where the new one was supposed to go, and it fit so well!

I always thought that Tutu had smaller fingers than me. It's a platinum band with tiny diamonds as well. I decided to add it to my collection. When the new "meeting" ring came, it was a little too large, and I found that if I put it on first, and then added Tutu's ring on top of it, it held it in place. 

All of these rings have a special meaning to me, and they help me to remember people, and even pray for them. I think of where I was when I got them with fond memories. The only trouble is, that it's a full time job keeping them all adjusted and facing upright! Oh well, that gives me more time to look at them....

I've decided though, in case you wondered, I don't think I'll ever put bells on my toes.

One More Different, Smaller, and a Very Electronic Christmas 2022

This year we decided to stay in Southern California, for Christmas, in our trailer/cottage in Palm Springs. There were lots of factors in making the decision. Most of Doug's kids had other plans, or just didn't have time to travel the 8 hours down here from the Bay Area, and we thought Doug was going to have a second cataract operation on the 21st, but then he changed his mind. My kids are both back east, and we just planned to communicate a lot by FaceTime  especially when my new grand baby would be born. Doug's two sons and 2 of the grandkids promised to drive down on the day after Christmas, but that left us alone, together for Christmas, opening up a couple of gifts wrapped in Amazon packaging. 

It's a good thing that we put up our solar Christmas lights, because before Christmas, Covid raised its ugly head once again. First, Doug tested positive and I tried to not get it by insisting I isolate myself by masking around him and sleeping in the tiny bedroom at the end of the trailer part of our home, as instructed by the doctor. He confessed later, however, that it was a relief to him that I finally tested positive! I guess that's okay, since we both had mild cases. Besides, it was difficult to be so strict when we were in such a small space. My symptoms were mostly exhaustion, everything tasted like garlic, and I had heartburn and nausea. He had a little fever for a couple of days, a headache, and general malaise. We just self-isolated and were brought gifts of homemade sour dough bread, cookies, and even a huge package of toilet paper, (which we had gotten dangerously low on), from friends and neighbors.

I kept trying to force myself to finish up the annual family calendar I put together, and then when they came, I set up my Mom's old card table in the kitchen to gradually wrap them and any other gifts that I had to send out in the mail. When I finally tested negative, I went to the post office to get some priority mail boxes to pack up all the families' gifts and treats so I could come back to stand, masked, in a surprisingly short line to send them off.

We had bought each other gifts that we both wanted, even before Christmas. Doug did a thorough study of mobility scooters to buy, since he enjoyed the one we rented in DC a few months before, and he suggested I get an Apple Watch, so I would get credit for any steps I do.

The scooter came with a caveat that it would have to be stored in our parlour, in front of the wall where I usually compose my "wall tree". I was still tired from Covid, so it didn't take too much convincing for me to let that go. We went to the Angel View Thrift Shop and came home with a little 3 foot fake tree, and covered it heavily with solar lights, and ornaments, and put it in our bedroom. Thank goodness the solar lights are almost worn out. They only work for a few hours and then have a faint twinkle for the rest of the night, not keeping us up. It sits next to our little table with a minimalist creche on it. We added a couple of cute sheep to it this year. They're very cute. The bigger one looks over at the manger, and the baby one looks at us, as if to say, "Are you paying attention?"

Doug loves his little red "scooter", he bought it with the idea that it would encourage him to walk more, rather than less. When we start out, I ride in the scooter, while he walks with his cane, and after about a block and a half, we switch so I can get some steps in. We're in the habit now of doing our walk/ride a few blocks over to the market, or CVS, or to eat lunch at our favorite restaurant, Mario's. I've learned to switch my watch over to the workout mode to get credit for my exercise. It's getting ridiculous, how I'm trying to "close up all my rings" now. Before Christmas, when we both had Covid, my watch seemed very disappointed in me, sitting in my chair and reading or taking a nap, since it urges you to get up for a minute every hour during the day. It's training me pretty well, and I keep on increasing my daily goals. One night before bed, I confess that I went outside to walk a few more steps to close up the move ring!

On Christmas Eve morning, I baked a double batch of Toll House chocolate chip cookies with added pecans and tart dried Montmorency cherries to hand out to friends and neighbors in our mobile park. I put 3 or 4 cookies each in ZipLoc bags and placed them in a beautiful red bag that a friend made for me, and we looked very festive as we did our walk/ride routine all around the neighborhood and visited with all the happy recipients of the cookies. I told them, "If you're lucky, you might get a tart dried cherry in a bite", since the cherries were in short supply. The next day, some folks came up and excitedly said, "And I got a cherry in mine!" 

On Christmas Eve, we went to a beautiful mass at Our Lady of Guadalupe, and I got teary eyed as  a little girl in a pretty red dress reverently walked down the aisle with Father Robert, holding the baby Jesus on a cushion, so  she could lay him in his manger. Between all the sparkly lights, and the beautiful singing of our favorite cantor, who we have dubbed, "Sings Like An Angel" singing Ave Maria, our Christmas was just about complete. 

When we got out to the car though, Doug said, "I don't want to go home to left over Chinese food tonight. Not on Christmas Eve!" He wanted to go someplace special, and his first choice was closed. I suggested a local "dive" bar, a Palm Springs classic, Pete's Hideaway. When we first got there, it was almost empty, except for an older woman all dressed up in her holiday garb at the end of the bar. "She said, "Oh! You're finally here!",  to which I curtsied, and then she said, "Oh, I thought you were someone else." We sat at the bar and had a cocktail, and toasted to each other, and then all the people who had reservations started arriving, and a singer came to start singing his holiday songs with his guitar. We decided to stay and share a plate of their Italian stuffed pasta dinner. A lovely time after all. 

Our Advent wreath.

Earlier in the day, we had decided that we would join in with our neighbors for a Christmas morning potluck, so I had to come up with a dish to bring. I just had to buy another dozen eggs, and I revised a Christmas sausage and egg and cheese casserole that I found online, similar to one that is usually served at my sister Lorraine's house on Christmas morning.

We also were invited to Doug's second cousin Greg's and his wife Julie's home in Desert Hot Springs at two on Christmas Day, so we had to leave the brunch early, having tried to not stuff ourselves. We were happy to actually have family to visit with on this special holiday. The desert is becoming pretty popular for retirees. A couple of members of my own family have moved down here recently too. Maybe we'll get together with them next year.

The story goes on.... Doug's sons John and Matt and our granddaughters Ava and Resie drove down to visit on December 26th in time for a dinner of what has been dubbed "Harboghetti". Then we all opened gifts to each other, so that seemed even more like a complete Christmas. 

John's better at electronic things than us, so he helped us to hook up an upgraded version of Roku that is voice activated for our TV. I had also surprised Doug with an Alexa, another toy that is voice activated, which he was delighted with. (He actually looked like a little boy on Christmas morning with a new train set.) He didn't think I would get one, since I had pooh-poohed the idea. John had to help install Alexa too, and then she, (if there really IS an Alexa), was probably tearing her hair out at all the ridiculous questions she was being asked, but she still happily answered. 

The weather cleared up for them one day for a nice day at the pool, since it's been unusually cloudy and rainy here. 

Doug went out to ride in a golfcart with them while Matt and Ava golfed, and I stayed home with Resie. We took a little walk, and then worked together on constructing a Disney Lego project out on the patio, and we accomplished it! 

The next day, we put together a nice ham dinner, and we've all done a good job of working on the great supply of holiday cookies, candies and treats that everyone brought. We're thinking of not looking at the scale for a few days.

Everything's quiet now. Our company is on their way home and we're feeling rather drowsy. Tomorrow night is New Year's Eve. Here's to a wonderful, and especially Peaceful 2023. 

New grand baby Thea and Petie

Wordle-ing

Probably most people who are in the habit of attempting the game, Wordle, once a day, just use their phones. I've found that I can't concentrate on finding the word within 6 tries by looking at the QWERTY keyboard displayed on the screen. I use a pen and paper, preferably one of my favorite BIC 4-color pens and a spiral notebook. It's probably seen by others as a little obsessive, but I enjoy writing down the 5 lines for blank spaces where the correct word will end up, and then quickly inscribing the alphabet in a fairly neat column. My husband Doug and I decided not to compete with each other on two phones, but rather to do it together, each with our own pen and paper. He'll do his figuring on any scrap of paper he can find, or on an old envelope. Every time we enter a guess, we have a silly habit that I do a drum roll with my tongue, and he taps his pen on the table, (somewhat irritating to me at times, since occasionally he starts his drum roll before I've even brought the game up on my phone!)

One time recently he said, "I don't have anything to write on. I'll just share your paper." That's when I realized how OCDish I had become about my own space. He started writing words we were going to try in the 5 spaces I had reserved for the final answer, and then CROSSING off the letters that didn't work....in MY SPACE! He also didn't have his own pen, and I had to wait my turn to use it.

Shocked to see what was happening, I said, "What are you doing??"

"It's just my way of figuring", he said.

I tried to be more sharing, starting to make a new set of 5 spaces for my own figuring. "Could you please keep away from my alphabet though? I have my own little system where I cross off the letters that are wrong, and put checks next to the ones that show up yellow, and are somewhere else in the word, see? And then I like to put a little square around the letter that's in the right place." "Hmm," he said.  finding that after our first guessed word, the 4th letter, O showed up green, and therefore in the correct spot,  I placed it there and put a square around it. He kept marking up my original spot, but seemed to get it that that my new area was now reserved only for me.

We continued to brainstorm, mentioning possible words, and sometimes catching each other in a mistake, like, "How about canoe?"  "Nope, there is no N", or "The E can be anywhere but the end." "Darn!", I say, but happy to have missed a close call, and not wasting a turn. Two brains ARE better than one.

The Wordle people are rather kind if a word is misspelled and not on their word list. For example, for some reason, I have it in my head to spell "bagel" wrong. I put in "bagle", and the letters wiggled on the screen, and said "not on word list", not penalizing us nor counting it as one of our guesses.

When we first started playing, Doug said, "There must be certain consonants that are in most words.", so he diligently looked up on Google what they recommended. "S, T, R, and N are the most common, so what do you think of starting with store or story as our first word? Yesterday's word ended in E, so maybe we should start with story, since it ends in y."

He always tries to bring logic into the game and tries to strategize. He realized that past words have most often been nouns. In the last few games, we feel that the maker of the puzzle at the New York Times, is messing with us and giving us the most obscure 5-letter words, leading us to choose the most uncommon one we can think of, or making us take a chance on repeating an already used letter. "Robot" was the word that introduced us to the fact that we could re-use a letter in another spot.

We were trying to up our game, since at first we thought we were beating the system by starting with "adieu" or "adios" as our first try, thinking that we should try out a lot of vowels first. Then we realized that very few words end in U, and we have yet to see a plural word, so both of those words are a waste of a perfectly good try. Can't have that.

A few months ago, I traveled to Washington DC to visit my daughter and new grandchild. Doug and I worried how we were going to keep up our streak of about 98 Wordles straight without losing when we were apart. I told him I didn't want to take the chance of breaking our winning streak by doing it on my own. We finally decided to talk on speaker phone together each day, discussing each word.

One evening I called Doug and we both had our pen and paper ready. I had him on speaker, as we discussed each word possibility . On the 5th try, we had E, O, and Y in their correct (green) spots. Jennie had been overhearing us making suggestions and we both agreed that "epoxy" would work. "But it can't be that," Doug worried, "It's a brand name!" It was a chance to take, but we took it, and thankfully, on the sixth try, it was right. My daughter said it was so hard for her to hear our conversations about it, since she had already done the game for the day. She was thinking, "Yes! It's a word! Go for it!" but all Wordlers are sworn to secrecy, so she painfully kept her mouth shut.

Then, I said, "I'll have to report into Lucas and Jen, (my son and daughter-in-law), to let them know how we did. We do this every day."

"What?", she exclaimed. "I want to be in on that too!" Sooner or later, we had her husband chiming in as well, all competing together. For me it's made the world seem a little smaller, since I'm in California and my kids are in New York and DC. Now our little group uses the text also to share photos of everything going on in our lives. 

Actually, after quite a lot of time, Doug and I are the main devotees to Wordle. We're retired, and they aren't, and we all think that the words are getting harder. I mean, tryst? midge? aphid? Really. 

If you've gotten this far in my story, it's probably because you like the game too. We've talked to friends about strategies, and some are as enthusiastic as we are, while I watch others' eyes glaze over at the thought of Wordle. We however, still make time in our day to try our hand at it, even though today we got frustrated and finally lost. All of our logic flew out the window, as we tried all the most obscure words first, finally losing to what we thought would be the most common one, "power"!

There will be days like that, but I guess I'll continue to inscribe the alphabet each day on my tablet. I think my kindergarten teacher would be proud.

Our Prius "Camper"

Whenever we tell folks that when we camp, we sleep in our Prius, they say, "What? But you're so tall! How could you do it?" Well, for one thing, the clincher that helped my husband in deciding whether or not to even purchase a Prius is to make sure that we could sleep in it. He secretly took measurements before even letting me know he was interested, so as to not get my hopes up, only to be dashed. The newer version, in 2004 fit the bill, and we test drove it around Berkeley. The salesman wondered outloud, "Why is it that all of the Berkeley people want to make sure that the car is long enough to sleep in?" 

Well, we both liked the idea, since in our former lives we had enjoyed long trips across country. Mine was in an oxidized red '69 Dodge van made in to a camper, and his was in an Austin Estate Wagon. We both like saving money on motels, and we have fond memories of waking up in the morning to birdsong and cooking breakfast outdoors. Coffee tastes best that way.

This was the beginning of the hybrid craze. and we were right with the folks wanting to do everything they could to save the planet. The idea of saving money on gas made it even a sweeter deal. The Prius was so popular though, that Toyota couldn't seem to keep up with the demand. If we had wanted a certain color, the time for it to be delivered couldn't be promised, but if we took one of the next ones that were delivered to the dealership, we could get it sooner. When they came, they were all silver. Oh well, we weren't that picky.

Our first adventure was on a trip to Lake Tahoe, just a 3-1/2 hour drive from the Bay Area. We were one of the first in line at Emerald Bay campground, since it was on a  first come, first served basis . We scored a place right near one of the restrooms,  to make life easier for nighttime bathroom needs. We put our food in a bear locker, and then went out to shop for the rest of our supplies. Unsure of the level of propane we had for our camp stove, we bought a new canister, some tall Jesus candles to light our table at night, some pre-made shish kebobs to barbeque, and of course, Peet's coffee for in the morning. Doug found a deal on some Jameson's Irish Whiskey to warm us around the fire later.

Spotting a sign for Fallen Leaf Lake on the way back from our shopping excursion to South Lake Tahoe, Doug said, "Let's go check that out! I haven't been there for years. We've got time." So we turned off of Hwy. 89 and drove past the Fallen Leaf Campground, down the road pointing to the little lake. It became a very windy road and mostly one lane, forcing us to pull way over into the grass to let cars and trucks pass by. We finally made it to the end, saw the lake and turned around to go back, when it started to rain. Really hard. 

We turned on our lights and had the windshield wipers going at full speed, as we carefully navigated the curves in the other direction. Glad to be through that and back out to 89, it started hailing! Huge, golf ball chunks of ice rained down on us, and we pulled over to the side for protection under some pine trees, afraid that our poor new car may get dented. After about a half an hour, a drizzly rain resumed, and we ventured out to our reserved campsite, wondering if we should just get a motel room.

Our campsite hadn't fared very well. We sat in the car and took in the situation. The path to the restroom was flooded, and of course the picnic table was all wet. Doug looked at the radar app we had on our phone, and saw that it looked like the storm was headed north and should stop soon. He said, "Hold on. I'll be right back", as I saw him lift up the hood on his jacket, and run to the back of the car. He was back in a jiffy, a little damp, with our two camping wine glasses, the Jameson's, some crackers, two sticks of string cheese, and a newspaper. "Let's just sit here and wait it out. I don't think it'll be that long." 

I conceded that I'd give it a try, but started to dream of a hot bath in a hotel. We sat there, having a little early happy hour, at 4 pm, and did one of our favorite pastimes together.... the crossword puzzle in the newspaper. Doug specializes in the historical clues and I get the more modern answers. He kept glancing at the MyRadar app on our phone to keep an eye on the storm and bet that it would pass by in about a half hour. I looked at the pond that had formed between us and the restroom, still thinking about that hot bath.

 In about 45 minutes, sure enough, the sun came out. Doug opened the car door saying, "Let's go out and build a campfire! I put our firewood in the bear cabinet, so it will be dry." 

Wow, I thought. He really wants to do this. I put away our snacks, and stepped out, gingerly avoiding the puddle that had formed outside my door. I got out our camp chairs, and positioned them next to the fire pit, where he was busily balling up the green sports section of the newspaper to help start the fire. He got out his axe and chipped off some pieces from the pine logs for kindling. 

I ventured off to see how the restroom fared. There was still a pretty deep puddle between us and it, but there was a hill in the middle of it, providing me with a narrow path to navigate my way there. I decided to bring one of the tall Jesus candles with me, and my flashlight, since it was starting to get dark. Setting the candle at the center of the drier path seemed like a good idea to be able to find my way back without stepping into a pool on either side. When I got to the open door, I heard something inside, and a raccoon came running out. I guess he found a nice place to be in the storm! On the way back on the lighted path, I could see the glow of our campfire, and Doug sitting next to it, happily arranging our shish kebobs on a little rack that we carry with us. "See?", he said, "Everything is perfect!"

After a satisfying dinner, sitting in our nice, dry camp chairs near the fire, and a couple of more Jameson's with water, we thought we'd better get busy on our usual chores. Water was heating on our camp stove so I could do the dishes, which I don't mind doing at all when we're camping, since it warms up my chilly hands. 

Doug is the one who tends to our sleeping arrangement. He put as much as he could of our supplies in the bearproof cabinet, and then carried over the small hassocks he bought at Bed, Bath and Beyond that we store our camping supplies in. He made the front seats of the Prius go all the way forward, and placed the boxes on the floor behind them so they filled in the foot space. Then the backs of the seats are folded down, and our foam futon mattress goes on top. As I placed the washed dishes upside down on a dishtowel to dry on the picnic table, I could see him working with the dome light illuminating the inside of the car, and my heart melted. He was arranging our sleeping bags and pillows lovingly and folding back the corners to invite us to bed. All that would be missing was a little piece of chocolate on our pillow.

He had arranged our small suitcases and backpacks on the front seats, so we did what we needed to do to get ready for bed while standing outside the car. No one else seemed to be close by in the campground, I guess they chickened out because of the rain. One more trip over to the restroom with a flashlight, and I noticed that the pond was shrinking already and that the path was a little wider. I put on my jammy bottoms and a t-shirt and filled a bottle with water for us for the night, and walked back to our little nest.  I could see it, glowing ahead of me. Doug had added a colorful throw on top of the sleeping bags, and it looked so cozy. 

As I climbed in, I noticed that he had lowered the two back windows so we wouldn't suffocate, so that was good. We snuggled under the covers and looked up at the grey ceiling, feeling very satisfied and proud of ourselves, stretching our long bodies out comfortably. "And they said it couldn't be done", he said, and turned out the dome light.

I dozed off, but about a half hour later, I thought I heard something outside. "I think I might be hearing a bear!", I whispered, jostling him awake. 

"It's okay", he said drowsily, " They can't get to us in here. Don't worry. Go back to sleep"

I tried to relax, but heard more rustling, and remembered what the ranger at the little museum over at D.L.Bliss State Park told us about how many bears there were around Tahoe. She said that they can smell things like candy and even perfume, and want to break in to get them. "Remember what the ranger said about bears?", I said, poking him once more.

"Oh honey, go to sleep please. I put all of our food in the bear-proof cupboard. We'll be fine."

After thinking a moment, I remembered the candy I always had stashed in my backpack, and the bag of Werther's that we keep in the compartment between the seats for snacks on the road. "I'm remembering the candy we have in here."

"What? You want a piece now?"

"No! Just what if the bear wants to come and get some? What will we do? He could put his big claws inside the open window and pull it out! We have to have a plan!

"A bear can't do that." I could hear sleepiness and a little annoyance in his voice.

"I'm gonna rollup my window and open the one in the front a little so at least his claws won't be so close to my face," I whispered. But when I tried that, "Oh no! It won't go up without the power on!" 

I struggled loose of my warm sleeping bag, and moved my pillow out of the way, to reach between the front seats to the dashboard. Doug opened his eyes to see my pajamaed rear end wriggling past his face as I stretched to reach the power button. "Now what are you doing?", he asked sleepily.

"I have to figure out how to reach the brake pedal with one hand, and then press the power button, right?", I said with my head under the steering wheel.

"Sweetheart, I think if you just press the power button twice it'll work the windows. I read it in the manual."

"Ooh. That's easier!" It worked, and I readjusted the windows to my satisfaction. "I know! We could also honk the horn and turn on the red hazard lights! I think bears wouldn't like to see all that commotion."

"Yes dear." I hate it when he says that. "Are you ready for bed now?"

"Not really, after all that workout, but I feel safer anyway." I couldn't envision sleeping, but snuggled back under the covers, spooning Doug, my face totally buried in his shirt, trying to get my nose warm.

And then it was morning.

Visitations

 It was a busy day at Lowe's garden department. The employees complained that too many plants had been delivered, and it was hard to keep them all watered. Customers were just filled with the hope of Spring and happy to see the abundance of flowers and bushes, even if there wasn't a sale. I had chosen a beautiful white rose, that I couldn't resist, with lots of promising looking buds on it. It even attracted the comments of other shoppers I passed, as if it was a cute baby riding in my cart.

I took my place in the long checkout line, and watched, as an older woman came through the doors from the patio pushing a flatbed cart with things she had chosen. Gosh, I thought, she looks so much like Helen, my mother-in-law who passed away in 1999. Her white, naturally curly, short hair and colorful clothes brought back memories of "Tutu", and made me feel good. 

Then, "Oh!", my heel had been run into by a cart behind me.....and there she was!!

"Oh my goodness! Did I hurt you?"

"It's not bad. Don't worry." She had made a quick u-turn to get into line behind me.

"You know", I said, "I'm glad to be able to talk to you, because when you came in the door, you reminded me of my mother-in-law. I haven't seen her for a long time."

"Oh my! I hope that is a Good thing!" she said with a little wink.

"It definitely is. We were great friends. I've even been wearing her wedding band on my finger for the last couple of weeks. It's made me feel closer to her."

We chatted about the flowers we bought and how busy it was, and I noticed her nice wrinkly Irish face, and her sparkling blue eyes. Hi Tutu, I thought. As I left, I told her how nice it was to meet her, and almost asked for her name. Then I thought better of it. It would have been too weird if it had been Helen.

I'm remembering another time I "saw" Helen. I was shopping at a Long's Drugs, looking for the perfect shampoo. A lady near me started chatting with me about which one to choose, there were so many types. Once again, the curly white hair and familiar face and attitude. I said, "My goodness, you certainly look a lot like my mother-in-law!"

She said, "All my life people have said I reminded them of Janet Gaynor. You probably don't know who she was."

"Actually I do! My Helen always said she was mistaken for that actress, since they were about the same age when she became popular in the movies in the 30's. Now I can see why there's such a resemblance! Thanks for talking to me first, it's exactly what Helen would have done. She was always so friendly to strangers."

This has happened to me at other times. Years ago in a church where my family attended. My husband, with teary eyes, elbowed me as he watched someone coming down the aisle. I looked and sure enough, a salty haired man who was identical to Wally, my father-in-law, took the seat a couple of pews ahead of us. Wally had passed away a few years before. Every so often we'd see the man again, never having a conversation, but aways nodding at each other and remembering.

One other time, when I worked as a waitress at a Baker's Square, a woman came in for lunch who reminded me of my Grandma Diddo. Talking to her, her voice sounded so familiar, even with the little chuckle I recall. I confessed to her what I was thinking, and she thought it was nice. After that she always asked to sit in my section, and sometimes I'd even say, "Bye Diddo" as she left. She'd smile.

What does all this mean? Probably nothing. They were all just what I call a visitation, a surprising little gift from God. I've heard that when a hummingbird comes and flutters near your face, it's called a visitation. This may be something a little bit more. My little visits bring back fond memories of loved ones, and make me think that perhaps they want me to still be thinking about them, and praying for them.

Helen "Tutu" and me

Wally Romer with baby Walt

Even Another Different Covid Christmas in 2021: Typhoid Patty!

 Thanksgiving went very smoothly in Palm Springs. Most of Doug's family came down from the Bay Area, and we all mingled very happily together. All of us were vaccinated, but we ate at yet another relative's home.....some of whom were anti-vaxers, having our celebration outdoors just to be safe. 

Soon after everyone left we started getting into the Christmas spirit,

putting up lights, our advent wreath, my "wall tree", and our little makeshift manger scene.

But soon, Christmas became a whole other deal since the Omicron virus raised its stupid head. We decided instead, to cancel our plane reservations in order to reduce our risk of exposure, and drove up to the Bay Area, in tandem with son Matt and his daughter Ava, who had been visiting us for a couple of days. 

We stopped for the night in Bakersfield, and the next morning I was delighted to find a See's Candy store in town. One more thing to knock off my list of things to do. The line was uncomfortably long, and indoors, but everyone was masked and in a cheery, holiday mood, once we all inhaled the fine aroma of chocolate. We all started chatting together about our favorite pieces of candy we would include in our specially picked boxes, and all looked forward to the free pieces of candy we would receive at the end. The lady next to me in line had some sort of chronic lung condition, was coughing occasionally, and was very enthusiastic. I was happy she was masked because of Covid, but she alone impressed me when she ordered her boxes. She chose several pieces and then when they were almost full, she said to the masked, gloved and hair-netted See's lady, "Now just sprinkle the milk chocolate covered raisins all around to fill it in."    What?, I thought. then I realized...we're paying by the pound, not the piece! My boxes were all sealed, but next time....

 We listened to the news on the car radio, and as more and more Omicron cases were reported, our plans kept changing. What started out as a big family potluck on Christmas Eve at one of their homes, with all 5 of my husband's kids and the grandkids, and even my son flying in from New York, was evolving minute by minute. We had a Zoom meeting to get everyone's fears out on the table.

It was decided that we shouldn't all be inside in a house together eating, drinking, talking, laughing, and exchanging gifts.....so what to do? We talked to different ones on the phone as we drove. One family decided to bow out since they all had bad colds. Since it was scheduled to rain that day, it looked more and more like we were going to meet in a park under cover of pop-up tents, and order pizza for our Christmas Eve dinner. Ho Ho Ho! Sounds festive, eh? One son volunteered to bring a camp stove along to at least make the traditional hot mulled wine and hot cider, vowing to make this a special occasion no matter what.

We were supposed to stay with one of the families, but felt they wouldn't want to take any chances, so my sister, who we were already scheduled to spend Christmas morning with, along with my son, told us to come stay with her. Phew! Still on our drive up California, we got a call that my son's wife felt really ill and had just tested positive for Covid in New York! By the next morning, he decided he'd better not get on a plane after being exposed, and that they would just stay home and have Christmas together.

As we neared my sister's house, I told Doug that it would probably be reassuring to her and her husband if we used the Rapid Tests that we brought with us to show them that we were fine. Telling her of this plan, we asked that they leave the back door open so we could go directly to our room at the other end of the house. We'd see them in about 15 minutes. The house smelled wonderful, of something scrumptious cooking in the kitchen. 

The tests came two in a pack, and I did my test first, setting the little vial with its test strip in the one hole provided. In order to do Doug's test though, I picked up my vial and held it while his marinated the appropriate time, and set the alarms on our phones. I became antsy, the 10 minutes dragging on, and swirled the liquid around, tilting it a bit to see if I could see if a pink line was forming under the label. When my time was up, we said, "Drum roll!", and we're shocked to see that my test strip had a VERY pink line on it! "I'm positive! I can't believe it!", I said, "But I feel so good!" I sat on the side of the tub with my head in my hands worrying about what to do.

Doug's timer went off, and his had no sign of pink at all. Hmm. What to do? We had been joking that I would come out and announce that "I'm negative,......but the funny thing is, I'm pregnant!" That joke wouldn't work any more.

We came out and stood one room apart, hearing my niece say, "Here they come!" and "Uh-oh you're wearing masks!" We told them our news. My sister kept saying that she didn't believe the results. I got on the phone to try to get a Kaiser advice nurse to tell me where I could get a quick, official test, but was on hold for over a half an hour, finding out that the testing was being scheduled too far out and then wouldn't come back till another day.  By the time I reported back with my findings, still keeping my distance, my brother-in-law's sister was putting her jacket on, and announcing that she had to leave, (because of me), and my niece took her back to her hotel.

My sister suggested that I take another test, since I had two more, so we went back to the other end of the house to our room, and I re-read the instructions for the test. Hmm. It Did state that the vial must be kept still, so I swabbed the inside of my nose the appropriate way, put the vial in the holder, inserted the test strip as if I was a lab technician, and left the room to work on some of the gifts I had brought for people, adding some of the See's milk chocolate balls to some. When the timer went off, Doug and I stared at the strip together. No PINK! 

"We're FREE!!", we said, as we returned to the Christmas clad living room, holding a box of chocolates. "Evidently it was a false positive! Can we hug you now?"

Everything proceeded as planned then. Doug was pleased to find that the wonderful aroma we had smelled  when we arrived was a tender roast beef, and we visited and laughed and ate and drank, all happy to be together after all.

The next morning, Christmas Eve day, I thought I'd better use my last test, just to be able to reassure Doug's family. Very carefully, I repeated the steps, but was shocked to find a very faint pink line! The instructions stated that even if it was very light, it was counted as positive! "I feel fine though!", I repeated. My sister assured me that she could hardly see it, but I wondered about how Doug's family would react. We went ahead and the four of us ate breakfast together, choosing our fruit, yogurt and cereal, and little ginger scones, and making frothy warm milk for our coffee, comfortably sitting at the long table reading the two papers they have delivered. 

Turns out it didn't rain that day, and since we would be outside in the park, it looked like our party with Doug's kids would happen. Just to be prudent, I sent a text out to all five kids about my false positive test fiasco, and confessed that the last one that morning was a very faint pink. We packed up our gifts and headed off to Berkeley to pick up son John. Grace had said that she would bring along the calendars I had made and had delivered to her house. While we waited in the car, for John to come out with his gifts, we received two notices, that the other two girls' families didn't want to take the chance of being around me. John and Matt still wanted to get together, so we drove a few miles back to get the calendars and leave off gifts, all masked up. Doug was sad to see his family's party dwindling by the minute and I started feeling like a pariah, calling myself "Typhoid Patty".

John had Christmas spirit enough for all of us, with his festive sweater on, and gifts, candy, and alcohol on board. Time was a'wasting though, and we discussed with Matt on the way to Alameda about changing our venue to the Cinema Grill, a restaurant only one block from his place, since it was getting chilly and would be dark before you know it. While we were waiting for his family to come out, we took advantage of the time and each had a swallow of the whiskey that had been brought to make hot toddies with in the park. We drank to a wonderful Christmas celebration.

John, Matt, his two kids and two grandkids walked with us to the restaurant where we were kindly seated outside with heat lamps to keep us warm.

The food was great, but soon after we got it, the rain started coming down! The wait staff graciously brought us inside, where we were just about the only customers, to finish up. 

After dinner, we walked in the rain back to our Prius, to open the back hatch, which someone said looked like Santa's sleigh. We exchanged gifts as quickly as we could, in the drizzle, and went on our way. We dropped off John again in Berkeley, and then drove back out to Lafayette to spend the night, wondering if we should just drive on back to Palm Springs in the morning and not take a chance on infecting anyone. But then Lorraine told me that her son promised to bring me another rapid self-test when he and his family arrived for her traditional Christmas morning brunch. 

As folks began to arrive, we decided that we would stay at our end of the house again, just in case, thinking we might just be delegated to stay there during the whole party. The sister-in-law had decided to forego the crowd that day and come by herself later in the afternoon for a less chancy late breakfast. The new test arrived, and I very carefully read and re-read the instructions. I could hear my little great-grandnieces had arrived and were happily running around with little toy puppies on leashes, squealing and laughing. While I timed the test with my iPhone, I kept putting the finishing touches on gifts for Lorraine's kids and grandkids.....should I be allowed to hand them out.

This seemed like a better quality test, and once again, we both looked at the results together. No pink line! No line at all! Brunch was starting to be served, and I came out waving my happy results, teary eyed. Everyone believed it, and we were welcomed at the happy table, our plates full of frittata, ham, fruit, and homemade cinnamon rolls. 

Next was the opening of gifts around the beautiful tree, and then in to the living room, each getting a red stocking full of thoughtful gifts from Lorraine and Bill.

My Christmas traditions had been met, but Doug still yearned for more time with his kids. We decided to drive back to the Bay Area and distribute the family calendars and a few more gifts to them. Met outside with masks on again, he got to get a little more family fix for himself.

While we were gone it was a good time for Lorraine's sister-in-law to have her lost meal, and we kept to our room till she was gone, to make her feel better. It was decided that we would stay one more day, and drive home when there should be less traffic, just resting after our ordeal. Once again the four of us sat around the table reading the papers, and eating yummy leftover frittata and ham for breakfast. 

Lorraine and I talked about how happy we were that the two of us decided to see each other this year, no matter what, and laughed that all of us had polished off both 1 pound boxes of chocolates. We've lost our other two sisters in the last few years, and we needed to hug and hear each other laugh. These days, you never know..... 

After a teary farewell, we decided to take the coastal route and headed for Doug's favorite spot for the night, Morro Bay. When we arrived, it turns out that all the power was out in the little town, and if there's no power in the seafood restaurants and hotels.....well.  We moved on down the road to San Luis Obispo, where we settled on eating at the Denny's that was next door. Not exactly what we had hoped for. In the morning, I looked online and found the Cowgirl Cafe for breakfast, just to make up for last night's dinner and see a little of the local color. This relaxing morning caused us to get off later than we had planned.

The entire drive along the coast had been gorgeous, emphasized by the fact that it had been so long since we had seen the ocean, but eventually you have to turn east to get to Palm Springs. That's when the rain started up, it began to get dark early, and we ran into the LA traffic. With the windshield wipers flapping as fast as they would go, we felt we were almost home. Our Prius was allowed in the fast lane, and after we passed the tall, familiar Morongo Hotel, suddenly the special lane veered off to the left, with tall berms on both sides. The rain was pelting down, and our lights couldn't see very far in front of us! I gripped the steering wheel tightly, and kept talking out loud about how nervous I was, like, "How long do you think this alleyway goes on? It's hard for me to see!", I'm sure giving Doug great confidence in my driving. He didn't help me by saying, "This is like we are a bullet going down the barrel of a rifle!"

Finally our terror was over, and we were let out into the normal stream of traffic, and saw the exit for Palm Springs. Thank you God!! We were so happy to see our solar Christmas lights welcoming us as we drove down our street, and went inside our little cottage-like trailer and turned on the heater. It was time to put on our jammies, have a celebratory drink, make a quick dinner, and turn on our usual SkyNews. Everything was back to normal. 

Here's to a "normal" and healthy New Year to all of you!