Sunday, September 1, through Saturday, September 14, 2013: Back In Soledad Canyon:

    
Sunday morning started with our having to finally unpack and straighten up the house.  Late in the morning, we headed for Staples to pick up my new computer.  Yippee! 

We were getting very frustrated with the electricity situation.  It's in the mid 90s here.  The ride in the car gave us some relief from not having air conditioning in the house.  We stopped at Lowe's on the way home and picked up a voltage tester, thinking we might use it to find a better site.  Of course, not having ever used one, I had no idea how to approach the issue.  I tried a few things unsuccessfully, then asked Lorenzo, a neighbor who looked like he knew such things, whether he could help.  He tried a few things, then decided the real problem was my electricity monitor.  He thought it was too sensitive.  That's why it kept turning off.   He recommended replacing it with a more common type of surge protector.  I happened to have one in my personal inventory, so we made the switch.  Success!  We have now been running both air conditioners for the past three hours.  The interior of the house is no longer hovering above 90 degrees.  Thank you, Lorenzo.

Monday, I drove to Union Station in Los Angeles to take the train to Flagstaff.  I have an appointment with Dr. Nathan Benson, my Urologist, Tuesday morning.  The Amtrak train leaves every day at 6:15 PM.  It arrives (when on time) in Flagstaff at 4:30 AM.  I went by myself so Becky and Ramsey could recover from the past three weeks.  The train left on time (no big surprise, since it starts in LA) and I had dinner on board at 7:30. 

My tablemates this time were Anthony and Jessica, a slightly strange young couple who live in Winslow, Arizona, where Anthony is attending college.  When Anthony introduced me to Jessica, he described her as having been responsible for turning his life around and getting him into college.  That opening was full of potentially interesting possibilities, but I decided not to pursue his or their personal history.  The most I was willing to learn was that, before meeting Jessica, he was living in Happy Jack, Arizona, which I have since learned is "an unincorporated town and campground located in the Mogollon Rim Region of Coconino County, Arizona, United States.  The Discovery Channel Telescope is located there."  That's the entire Wikipedia entry for the place.  Not a busy destination resort, apparently.  We had a pleasant dinner.  I had my favorite Amtrak meal, Linguini Arrabiatta, again, and I hit the sack (my coach seat, actually) about 9:00.  I slept very little, for no known reason.

The Southwest Chief (heading for Chicago) arrived at Flagstaff only 1/2 hour late (5:15 AM) which meant I was free to walk the streets of Flagstaff for 45 minutes before the city woke up at 6:00 AM.  I chose to stop at the Monte Vista Hotel,

lifted its copy of The New York Times from the unattended front desk, and read all the news that's fit to print for a short while before having breakfast at the Downtown Diner, about 1/2 block away, as soon as it opened at 6:00.  I was able to kill two hours there, and the Enterprise fellow arrived a little after 8:00 to take me to get my car for the day---a Nissan Altima, which was just fine.  It has a keyless ignition, which takes some getting used to but is a nice idea.    

My appointment was at 11:00, and I spent most of the intervening three hours getting into Calico Joe, a John Grisham novel I had bought for the trip.  What a wonderful book.  It's unlike any other of the many books of his I have read.  (No lawyers,  No courtrooms.)  A very interesting book; fun to read.  

My visit with Dr. Benson went very well.  (He inserted three gold "seeds" into my prostate gland, to be used as targets for the radiation treatments that are to start in late September.) 

I then drove to the Camping World about 10 miles out of town, and discussed my current (no pun intended) electrical problems with two of their crack employees.  The first fellow listened patiently to my tale of woe, and when I ended it with three salient questions, he admitted that he had only worked there for five days and didn't know enough to answer any of my questions.  He then turned me over to a tech who was better informed.  Anyway, I didn't learn much.  I returned to downtown Flagstaff and proceeded to take a late lunch.  I chose Pasto, an Italian restaurant across the street from the Monte Vista Hotel. 

I don't know why it was on the menu of an Italian restaurant, but I chose the Black & Blue Burger.  It was delicious.  I killed a couple of more hours there---reading---waiting until it became time to return the car.  Enterprise dropped me off at the train station.  I knew I would spend at least the next four or five hours there.  The return trip on the Southwest Chief starts in Chicago, of course, and has, therefore, many opportunities to get delayed on its way West.   (The last time I took it from Flagstaff to LA, it was three hours late.)  Tuesday night, it was only an hour late.  During the wait, my dinner was some trail mix that was very tasty.  We boarded at 10:00 PM and I shortly fell asleep.  With a few minor interruptions, I slept until almost 6:00 AM.  We arrived in LA at 8:30---essentially on time.(Amtrak cleverly builds an extra hour into the schedule between Fullerton and LA to absorb that much of a delay.)  I retrieved the truck, and headed for Soledad Canyon.  I arrived there at 10:00, and said hello to Becky and Ramsey.  It felt very good to be home.   

 

Wednesday afternoon, we took our relatively new air compressor (we use it to keep our tires properly inflated) back to Lowe's since it didn't work the way I thought it should.  I had described its symptoms, by phone, to a techie at Lowe's who suggested that a certain valve seemed to be sticking, and recommended simply taking it back for an exchange. 

 

 

We made the exchange and I tried out the new one.  It worked exactly the way the old one had.  In frustration, I read the operating instructions for the first time, and realized that the machine was working properly.  I simply had not understood how it worked.  With that new knowledge, I was able to alter my methods, resulting in satisfactory performance by the compressor.  Isn't it amazing how helpful reading the instructions can be?     

 

On Thursday, Becky headed off to Pasadena to spend the day with her father. 

 

 

She left Ramsey and me at home so I could rest from my whirlwind trip to Flagstaff and Ramsey could simply avoid the heat.  (It was going to be 99.)  We did just that; Ramsey did not budge for the first five hours after Becky left.  (On a normal day, the two of them would have already taken three long walks.) 

 

 

Becky returned at four o'clock, having stopped at Costco to load up on the various things we load up on when we go to Costco.  We spent the rest of the day relaxing.  We're still unwinding from our overseas trip.

 

My big effort on Friday was getting all of our tires up to the right pressure.  Otherwise, we didn't do much. 

Saturday was devoted to the “First Saturday” party at the home of Paul Basile and Diane Chierichetti in Manhattan Beach.   

We dropped Ramsey off at the Second Home kennel in Agua Dulce, and headed for the Hawthorn Suites hotel, about 70 miles away.  My task upon arriving was to take the truck to the car wash across the street for a much-needed laundering.  After I turned the truck over to the folks there, I realized that I had left my wallet at home.  I called Becky and she came over and bailed us out. 

We then met Barbara Coad at the hotel, and she and Becky traded pictures from our Baltic cruise (Becky had taken almost 2,000 pictures) and loaded them on their respective computers.  At 7:00, we arrived at the party, which had already started.  We had volunteered to tend the bar (actually, just help serve the wine) a task for which we are quite suited. 

 

The party was fun, as usual, and we reacquainted ourselves with a few of Paul and Diane’s friends.  The fellow who sat next to me at dinner, Reese Lewis, turned out to have attended the same high school (North Hollywood) as I did, only seven years later, and had been a member of the same (admittedly, second-tier) Hi-Y club, the Cavaliers.  We had a lot of laughs recalling details about the school, its teachers, the neighborhood, and the oddities of our very similar experiences there.

 

 

We got up early Sunday morning, had some breakfast at the Hawthorn, then prepared to check out.  The hotel’s computer system had posted the wrong charge for our room, and we spent the next half-hour trying to convince the clerk that she could make the appropriate correction.  She finally did the right thing.  I think her problem was simply a failure of training.

We then headed for the Jonathan Beach Club to have the lunch buffet.  Barbara Coad and the Buckelews joined us.  Altogether, it was a terrific lunch.  (We hadn’t had a decent buffet in the week since the end of our cruise, and we missed the experience.) 

 

We gave our ticket to the attendant at the club’s valet parking stand, and waited patiently as many patrons had their cars retrieved.  And then many more.  Finally, we learned that our truck had been parked on the beach---and was now stuck up to the rear axle in deep sand.  After an hour of failed attempts to get it free, the manager called for a tow truck.  It arrived a half-hour later and took 15 minutes to free the truck.  So, almost two hours after finishing lunch, we were finally on our way. 

We picked up Ramsey at 5:00, got home, and relaxed.  It had been an exhausting day.          

Monday and Tuesday we basically relaxed after a busy few days.  Becky ventured out to Palmdale to wash our comforter.

Wednesday morning, we headed into downtown LA.  Becky had a 10 o’clock hair appointment.  I dropped her off at Gerrick’s, and then took Ramsey to Hollywood Dog Training in North Hollywood to spend the night.  I then went to the Panda Express in South Pasadena to order the dinner for that evening---the family is gathering at Becky’s dad’s and we agreed to do the catering.  Then I returned to LA, picked up Becky, we stopped at Ralph’s to pick up lunch, then stopped at the Jonathan Club to check in, take a nap, and get ready for the evening. 

We left downtown in what we thought would be plenty of time to get to Pasadena, drop Becky off at her dad’s, go to Panda Express, and get back to her dad’s by 5:30.  Not even close.  We had not planned on rush hour traffic in Pasadena, made even worse by the existence of the “Gold Line” commuter trains that snake through the area at street level.  What a mess.  I finally arrived at Bill’s house at 6:30.

Nonetheless, we had a good time with the gang.

We slept in Thursday morning, had room service for breakfast for the first time in years.  What a treat.  We then stopped at one of our favorite places, Taylor's Steak House in La Canada, to have lunch with my brother, Bob, who works nearby.  It was great to see him again.  

Then we picked up Ramsey, stopped at Staples in Santa Clarita to get some toner cartridges, got home, and crashed. 
         
On Friday, the Wheelers arrived at Soledad.  They are on their way from the Pacific Northwest to near Phoenix for six months starting October 1, and need t spend a few days at the Rexhall factory in Lancaster to get some items fixed on their motor home.  Normally, they would have gone directly to Lancaster on Saturday but, since we were at Soledad, they came there instead, a day early, to see us.    Thanks, guys.  It was fun seeing them again.  It’s been several months.

For dinner Friday night, Becky and I ate leftovers from the dinner at her dad’s on Wednesday, and spent the rest of the evening dodging the 90+ degree heat. 

Saturday involved a lot of football.  Unknown Akron came within one yard of beating the mighty Michigan Wolverines.  UCLA pounded Nebraska.  Alabama thrashed Johnnie Football and the Texas Aggies.  We went to Don Cuco’s in Acton for an early dinner with the Wheelers.  Everything was delicious.  That’s really a good place.  We said goodbye to the Wheelers and settled in for our last night at Soledad.