One week ago today the world seemed to be the normal level of messed-up that we have all become sadly accustomed to - unrest in the Middle East, a crazy little dictator in North Korea threatening to blow up the world, and the economic woes of this nation beating its citizens about the head and shoulders. Our televisions had a rotation of grim-faced experts telling us the sky is falling...still. Seven short days later and these images have been replaced by the horrific scenes from Japan. No B-director of disaster movies could do more. It keeps all of us here mindful of how small our issues are in comparison - but that's like kind of telling someone who had his finger cut off that it doesn't hurt because the guy in the next room had both legs cut off. Pain is pain.
In looking back over the past few days, and after a few trips around the island to see how things are, one thing has struck us: the resiliency the people here. On Saturday, Don and I toured the Central Maui area, near the airport and Kanaha Beach - world renowned for it's appeal to kite boarders and windsurfers due to the powerful trade winds that blow through from the north. The parks were closed. The place was a mess. Tangles of branches and tree limbs and trash was pushed up against fences and railings, and a long mass of it lay in the flood control channel, easily a hundred yards from the beach. There are homeless who live there, and while the police had evacuated the park residents, much of their meager belongings remained behind to be pushed up along with all the rest of the debris - bright colors in the brown and gray muddy masses. Parts of the guardrails had been knocked down.
On Wednesday, son Greg arrived from the mainland, and we drove the short distance to Kanaha to show him some of the damage. To our surprise, the place was almost entirely brought back to normal. County workers had been busy - and still were - cleaning up the mess. The parks were open, kiters resuming their sport, and the only sign of the tsunami's calling card was the piles of debris in the flood canal and the as-yet unrepaired railing.
Last friday, as the tsunami continued its surging and receding, we saw the damage in Lahaina Harbor, and in the surrounding waters. Most of the boats stayed out of the harbor until Saturday or Sunday because of the ongoing event and the unpredictability and apparent capriciousness of the waves. But some had not heeded the warning, resulting in a few boats being swamped or overturned, or even breaking apart their own dock. Pieces of planking could be seen floating off the Lahaina sea wall. Ma'alaea Harbor sustained damage to both boats and docks, with the surge completely engulfing the parking lots, and the recession draining nearly all the water. The water beyond the harbor had the color and consistency of watery beef gravy. The snorkel and whale tours that use these harbors only lost a day of revenue, and were up and running by the weekend.
Closer to home, the pool here that was a total mess, filled with mud, sand, and all kinds of debris, was open for business on Saturday as though Friday's mess had never existed. The only lingering effect was the lack of sand at the base of our sea wall, but it is slowly being brought back by the sea.
Maui is breathing a collective sigh as we all return to normal, with our only souvenirs being the stories we share.
Our neighbor island to the southeast did not fare so well. Ali'i Drive, the main drag through Kona Town was completely inundated by the surge. It swept through businesses and hotels - including the recently renovated King Kamehameha Hotel. Don and I were there last October and admired all the new furniture, artwork, and the new shops with their large glass display windows. All destroyed. One shop owner had just opened, and most of her new garments and other merchandise were pulled out to the streets. The five-star Four Seasons Resort in Hualalai in North Kona sustained a devastating hit and won't be open for four to six weeks. But the most astonishing is also the most wrenching - an entire house was swept off into Pristine Kealakekua - or Captain Cook - Bay. The sight of this large two-story home floating along is remarkable, but the scene below is sickening. Pieces of the home's contents are strewn on the fragile reef - a dishwasher, with dishes still in the drawers, a mattress and box spring, a door from some unnamed inner room. But all of this is being addressed and repaired with speed and care.
So, a week ago, as I finish this up, we were waiting for our second siren to sound. And now that we've had a week to clean up, and swap tsunami stories (tstories...!??!), we can offer all our praise and Thanksgiving to a merciful God who spared us, and pray for those in Japan who would give anything for our level of "damage"
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
The Inundation Zone
March 10, 2011
11:36 P.M.
So, it's all the news. We are waiting for our second tsunami in a little over a year.
Don and I were watching CSI tonight, and one of those annoying testing-of-the-Emergency Broadcast System warning buzzes interrupted what was becoming a verrrrry important plot twist. Only, it wasn't a test. They reported a Tsunami Watch. hmmm... By the time they upgraded to a warning twenty minutes later, we knew who did the deed(s) on CSI and we headed across the street to the local grocery store. Not wanting to look like we were rushing or panicking or even the slightest bit concerned, Don and I just meandered casually through the lobby with our canvas grocery bags - cool, calm, and environmentally sensitive. The parking lot was already filling up and we were joined by about half of West Maui and a few thousand worried tourists. Ice was already gone and people were getting all the water they could carry. We already have plenty of water, but since we just got a new fridge to replace the one that died, and we had to replenish all our food, water and ice was not our need. Lots of fruits, veggies, and things that looked healthy. Don can always get ice from the little market in the resort to pick up ice...and ice cream.
I would like to say that I'm not worried or a little bit scared, but that would make me a big, fat liar. We're on the 3rd floor, and we should be safe. But it is still quite unnerving - especially seeing the aerial video from Japan that shows a wide wall of water racing across the sea. The wave was longer than the camera's wide lens, and as straight as a brick wall.
12:25 a.m.
Sirens. The second that we've heard. These things wind up to a long, sustained wail that lasts for a full minute. It is literally giving me chills. They are coming once an hour now, but as it gets closer to the first wave (about 3 a.m.) they will be more frequent.
The thing that I think about now is what can be damaged or lost if the 6-foot surge does arrive: Duke's, The Gazebo Restaurant, Hula Grill. We could lose some oceanfront homes, including the bungalow that we lived in for a couple months in the fall. And our beach park church sanctuary could be damaged.
As I write this, we have only talked to Greg - John and Kyle were both presumably asleep before we knew about the upcoming excitement. Either that, or their declared affection for us has been greatly exaggerated. But Greg is our perpetual night owl, so we knew he'd be up. We had some loving and fun text chats, including him informing us that even PORTLAND was under Tsunami warning!! He assured us that he would move to higher ground....like out of the basement. We'll deal with the mainland family retroactive worries tomorrow.
12:49 a.m.
A firefighter friend has just informed us through Facebook (don'tcha love modern communication!?!?) that the water and sewer will be shut off in anticipation of the tsunami, so we are to fill our bathtubs and anything else we can with water - not for drinking as much as for sanitation (potty flushing). The pumps are shut down to prevent saltwater contamination. As they told us a year ago, better to have no water or sewer for a day or two than a few weeks as they try to clean out a damaged and contaminated system. I agree.
1:26
Siren #3 - and my husband is sleeping through it!! I'm also online chatting with a friend who is in South Maui. She and her husband are on the beach on the second floor. I'm kind of worried about them. The reports from Midway Island have an 8-foot surge - which means that essentially the ocean raises up 8 feet, not like a nice 8-foot surfable wave. So look around you. You might have 8-foot ceilings. Now imagine that sea level is now that much higher - not like high tide, but the entire power of the ocean 8 feet higher than it was moments before.
So, now I think about things that could be damaged or lost in the south: Fred's Mexican Cafe, Kealia Pond, the lifeguard tower at Charley Young Beach. There are lots of homes in low-lying, or what is called "Inundation Zones" - and yes, we are in one.
The trade winds are blowing so beautifully tonight. I hear a cat yowling. I wonder if someone told him to move to higher ground...?
2:08 a.m.
Waiting for the next siren. The first wave should be hitting Kauai in about an hour, although they're still not sure exactly the size. The reports from the buoys to those "theys" who know about these things say that it is still likely a 6-8-foot tsunami. I'm looking down at the parking lot below our unit and there are still a remarkable number of cars. Don just said "rentals". We are adjacent to a four-story parking garage for this resort, and our cars are on the third floor near our place. Normally, the uncovered spots on the top level are empty - but not tonight. There are still people trying to move their cars up there - rentals or not - and we're only an hour or so away from getting our waves! Theses are likely the same people who gripe about the long lines at department stores on December 23rd.
Waiting for this siren has me all jumpy. Don's still asleep, but he did wake up for a bit AFTER the end of the siren wound down. I feel like I'm in some kind of scary movie and my date is snoozing and I want him to protect me!!
Siren. So spooky - especially when it is in the middle of the night.
2:37 a.m.
We're getting moved up to the 4th floor or higher. Guess I can't keep blogging right now.
3:37 a.m.
We're such rebels. We opted to stay on our 3rd floor as opposed to moving up ten feet to the 4th floor. Daredevils.
The first surges have hit Kauai and O'ahu. Don't know if Maui has started seeing changes - I know that we haven't seen any in the parking lot. No, I'm not being funny. The parking lot extends along the north side of the building to just shy of the beach. We also have a flood control ditch next to us, which will be a good conduit for any surges. But nothing yet.
The scene in O'ahu has just gotten more dramatic. More ominous. The reef at the foot of Diamond Head, and one at Waikiki has been totally exposed. This is real. The waves are returning, but they're small. The surge is just coming back and forth.
4:05 a.m.
I'm in a Facebook dialogue with my sister in Minnesota. I'm sure she'll get a more accurate report from me than from the news geeks on the networks that say we are being "slammed". We are being sloshed. Not getting sloshed, mind you. Well, maybe some are. Mostly, it some very dramatic receding in between some short waves in a tall sea. They don't look like
Kahului Harbor has the largest rise in level at over 6 feet. This could decidedly do some damage, but they'll see in the light of day. They are telling us this will keep going for another couple of hours, and the biggest waves may still be out there. Egad.
At least there are no more sirens.
4:40 a.m.
Just noticed light reflecting off the water in the flood control ditch. I've never, ever seen the water that high. Can I admit that I think that it's pretty cool?
4:43 a.m.
And now the water is gone. Very cool.
5:05 a.m.
It's still going on, but it looks like the worst might be over. Might. One of the geologist tsunami expert guys said that there may be "energy trapped" in the islands, with some of the tsunami waves essentially bouncing around between islands. eeps! But it looks like damage will be moderate at most. Despite the "slamming."
There is going to be more damage done by the hyperbolic, hyperactive media. With verbage like "slamming", "barreling down", barrage of waves" it is scaring the heck out of people with plans to travel here. And it is spring break! Thanks, media, as Hawaii was beginning to grow in tourism again after a few rough years. Who needs economic health, after all?
Okay. I am getting more and more cranky. Don is sleeping in bad, now, instead of the couch. Sounds like a plan....
8:00 a.m.
What a night. But it still isn't over. Even though we have been downgraded from warning to advisory, it is extremely dangerous, but we think we'll go check it out... from a safe distance...
9:38 a.m.
We just returned from witnessing something so extraordinary. I have never seen anything like it and I am privileged to have seen it. Stunning.
We live in an oceanfront resort - if not an oceanfront unit. The beach itself is down about five feet and narrow from wall to waves. The pool is a beachfront pool, with large acrylic panels protecting sunbathers and pool dippers from the wind off the sea. The pool and spa are both the bright turquoise that come from a bright white plaster bottom, and both are surrounded by dozens of lounges that are daily filled with sizzling tourists trying to catch up on some reading, a tan, or much needed sleep - every day except today. The entire pool and spa are filled with debris and sand and mud. There is an inch of sand on the sidewalk that lies flush with the top of the lava rock beach wall, and runs along the beachside acrylic panels of the pool. The debris line is at least 25 feet in some areas. The restaurant in the resort next door already has the carpet cleaners in in hopes of feeding their guests as soon as possible.
But the thing that really stopped us in our tracks is when we realized that the tsunami event was still ongoing - and in very dramatic fashion. The waves had been hitting the sea wall moments before, but when Don and I looked out, we could see reef being exposed. Reef that is NEVER exposed. We stood and watched for a minute, and then the water began returning - slowly at first, but steadily and increasing in speed.
Juxtaposed against this power was an assortment of nimrods, knuckheads, and numbskulls who decided that taking a walk on the wide beach and then to raise the level of idiocy, play in the oncoming waves. I wouldn't have been quite so disturbed, except one dad thought it would be fun to take his ten-year-old daughter in wading with him. It was literally terrifying as we saw this man gripping his daughter by the wrist as they struggled to make it back to the still dry sand, with currents sweeping back and forth and all around. Praise God, they did. Others stood around and laughed - including mom. The workmen came to start work on the pool - two big Hawaiian boys. One could nearly read their minds as they looked at the scene with disbelief..."crazy haoles..."
The surges have stopped, I think It has been about half an hour since one came up the flood control. maybe it's done. We had been told it could be hours, simply because of the nature of the islands. Apparently, these things like to bounce and ricochet n and around and between and against all the islands. So, after 6 1/2 hours, it seems to be done.
The damage will have to be assessed over a matter of days. Maui and Hawaii Island (Big Island) have taken the hardest hit. Kahului Harbor and Waiehu Beach in Central Maui, Kihei in South Maui, and a number of places in Lahaina, including the entire first floor of Cheeseburger in Paradise. Some roads are still closed because of debris. In Kona, on the Big Island, water came onto the main road, flooding a resort hotel lobby and sweeping tables and chairs out of Bubba Gump's in Kailua Town. There are many homes in the area, so we know we still have more to hear about those.
But at the end of this day, eleven hours and eighteen minutes after the first entry, we're all still here. It's all gonna be okay.
God is still so very, very, good.
11:36 P.M.
So, it's all the news. We are waiting for our second tsunami in a little over a year.
Don and I were watching CSI tonight, and one of those annoying testing-of-the-Emergency Broadcast System warning buzzes interrupted what was becoming a verrrrry important plot twist. Only, it wasn't a test. They reported a Tsunami Watch. hmmm... By the time they upgraded to a warning twenty minutes later, we knew who did the deed(s) on CSI and we headed across the street to the local grocery store. Not wanting to look like we were rushing or panicking or even the slightest bit concerned, Don and I just meandered casually through the lobby with our canvas grocery bags - cool, calm, and environmentally sensitive. The parking lot was already filling up and we were joined by about half of West Maui and a few thousand worried tourists. Ice was already gone and people were getting all the water they could carry. We already have plenty of water, but since we just got a new fridge to replace the one that died, and we had to replenish all our food, water and ice was not our need. Lots of fruits, veggies, and things that looked healthy. Don can always get ice from the little market in the resort to pick up ice...and ice cream.
I would like to say that I'm not worried or a little bit scared, but that would make me a big, fat liar. We're on the 3rd floor, and we should be safe. But it is still quite unnerving - especially seeing the aerial video from Japan that shows a wide wall of water racing across the sea. The wave was longer than the camera's wide lens, and as straight as a brick wall.
12:25 a.m.
Sirens. The second that we've heard. These things wind up to a long, sustained wail that lasts for a full minute. It is literally giving me chills. They are coming once an hour now, but as it gets closer to the first wave (about 3 a.m.) they will be more frequent.
The thing that I think about now is what can be damaged or lost if the 6-foot surge does arrive: Duke's, The Gazebo Restaurant, Hula Grill. We could lose some oceanfront homes, including the bungalow that we lived in for a couple months in the fall. And our beach park church sanctuary could be damaged.
As I write this, we have only talked to Greg - John and Kyle were both presumably asleep before we knew about the upcoming excitement. Either that, or their declared affection for us has been greatly exaggerated. But Greg is our perpetual night owl, so we knew he'd be up. We had some loving and fun text chats, including him informing us that even PORTLAND was under Tsunami warning!! He assured us that he would move to higher ground....like out of the basement. We'll deal with the mainland family retroactive worries tomorrow.
12:49 a.m.
A firefighter friend has just informed us through Facebook (don'tcha love modern communication!?!?) that the water and sewer will be shut off in anticipation of the tsunami, so we are to fill our bathtubs and anything else we can with water - not for drinking as much as for sanitation (potty flushing). The pumps are shut down to prevent saltwater contamination. As they told us a year ago, better to have no water or sewer for a day or two than a few weeks as they try to clean out a damaged and contaminated system. I agree.
1:26
Siren #3 - and my husband is sleeping through it!! I'm also online chatting with a friend who is in South Maui. She and her husband are on the beach on the second floor. I'm kind of worried about them. The reports from Midway Island have an 8-foot surge - which means that essentially the ocean raises up 8 feet, not like a nice 8-foot surfable wave. So look around you. You might have 8-foot ceilings. Now imagine that sea level is now that much higher - not like high tide, but the entire power of the ocean 8 feet higher than it was moments before.
So, now I think about things that could be damaged or lost in the south: Fred's Mexican Cafe, Kealia Pond, the lifeguard tower at Charley Young Beach. There are lots of homes in low-lying, or what is called "Inundation Zones" - and yes, we are in one.
The trade winds are blowing so beautifully tonight. I hear a cat yowling. I wonder if someone told him to move to higher ground...?
2:08 a.m.
Waiting for the next siren. The first wave should be hitting Kauai in about an hour, although they're still not sure exactly the size. The reports from the buoys to those "theys" who know about these things say that it is still likely a 6-8-foot tsunami. I'm looking down at the parking lot below our unit and there are still a remarkable number of cars. Don just said "rentals". We are adjacent to a four-story parking garage for this resort, and our cars are on the third floor near our place. Normally, the uncovered spots on the top level are empty - but not tonight. There are still people trying to move their cars up there - rentals or not - and we're only an hour or so away from getting our waves! Theses are likely the same people who gripe about the long lines at department stores on December 23rd.
Waiting for this siren has me all jumpy. Don's still asleep, but he did wake up for a bit AFTER the end of the siren wound down. I feel like I'm in some kind of scary movie and my date is snoozing and I want him to protect me!!
Siren. So spooky - especially when it is in the middle of the night.
2:37 a.m.
We're getting moved up to the 4th floor or higher. Guess I can't keep blogging right now.
3:37 a.m.
We're such rebels. We opted to stay on our 3rd floor as opposed to moving up ten feet to the 4th floor. Daredevils.
The first surges have hit Kauai and O'ahu. Don't know if Maui has started seeing changes - I know that we haven't seen any in the parking lot. No, I'm not being funny. The parking lot extends along the north side of the building to just shy of the beach. We also have a flood control ditch next to us, which will be a good conduit for any surges. But nothing yet.
The scene in O'ahu has just gotten more dramatic. More ominous. The reef at the foot of Diamond Head, and one at Waikiki has been totally exposed. This is real. The waves are returning, but they're small. The surge is just coming back and forth.
4:05 a.m.
I'm in a Facebook dialogue with my sister in Minnesota. I'm sure she'll get a more accurate report from me than from the news geeks on the networks that say we are being "slammed". We are being sloshed. Not getting sloshed, mind you. Well, maybe some are. Mostly, it some very dramatic receding in between some short waves in a tall sea. They don't look like
Kahului Harbor has the largest rise in level at over 6 feet. This could decidedly do some damage, but they'll see in the light of day. They are telling us this will keep going for another couple of hours, and the biggest waves may still be out there. Egad.
At least there are no more sirens.
4:40 a.m.
Just noticed light reflecting off the water in the flood control ditch. I've never, ever seen the water that high. Can I admit that I think that it's pretty cool?
4:43 a.m.
And now the water is gone. Very cool.
5:05 a.m.
It's still going on, but it looks like the worst might be over. Might. One of the geologist tsunami expert guys said that there may be "energy trapped" in the islands, with some of the tsunami waves essentially bouncing around between islands. eeps! But it looks like damage will be moderate at most. Despite the "slamming."
There is going to be more damage done by the hyperbolic, hyperactive media. With verbage like "slamming", "barreling down", barrage of waves" it is scaring the heck out of people with plans to travel here. And it is spring break! Thanks, media, as Hawaii was beginning to grow in tourism again after a few rough years. Who needs economic health, after all?
Okay. I am getting more and more cranky. Don is sleeping in bad, now, instead of the couch. Sounds like a plan....
8:00 a.m.
What a night. But it still isn't over. Even though we have been downgraded from warning to advisory, it is extremely dangerous, but we think we'll go check it out... from a safe distance...
9:38 a.m.
We just returned from witnessing something so extraordinary. I have never seen anything like it and I am privileged to have seen it. Stunning.
We live in an oceanfront resort - if not an oceanfront unit. The beach itself is down about five feet and narrow from wall to waves. The pool is a beachfront pool, with large acrylic panels protecting sunbathers and pool dippers from the wind off the sea. The pool and spa are both the bright turquoise that come from a bright white plaster bottom, and both are surrounded by dozens of lounges that are daily filled with sizzling tourists trying to catch up on some reading, a tan, or much needed sleep - every day except today. The entire pool and spa are filled with debris and sand and mud. There is an inch of sand on the sidewalk that lies flush with the top of the lava rock beach wall, and runs along the beachside acrylic panels of the pool. The debris line is at least 25 feet in some areas. The restaurant in the resort next door already has the carpet cleaners in in hopes of feeding their guests as soon as possible.
But the thing that really stopped us in our tracks is when we realized that the tsunami event was still ongoing - and in very dramatic fashion. The waves had been hitting the sea wall moments before, but when Don and I looked out, we could see reef being exposed. Reef that is NEVER exposed. We stood and watched for a minute, and then the water began returning - slowly at first, but steadily and increasing in speed.
Juxtaposed against this power was an assortment of nimrods, knuckheads, and numbskulls who decided that taking a walk on the wide beach and then to raise the level of idiocy, play in the oncoming waves. I wouldn't have been quite so disturbed, except one dad thought it would be fun to take his ten-year-old daughter in wading with him. It was literally terrifying as we saw this man gripping his daughter by the wrist as they struggled to make it back to the still dry sand, with currents sweeping back and forth and all around. Praise God, they did. Others stood around and laughed - including mom. The workmen came to start work on the pool - two big Hawaiian boys. One could nearly read their minds as they looked at the scene with disbelief..."crazy haoles..."
The surges have stopped, I think It has been about half an hour since one came up the flood control. maybe it's done. We had been told it could be hours, simply because of the nature of the islands. Apparently, these things like to bounce and ricochet n and around and between and against all the islands. So, after 6 1/2 hours, it seems to be done.
The damage will have to be assessed over a matter of days. Maui and Hawaii Island (Big Island) have taken the hardest hit. Kahului Harbor and Waiehu Beach in Central Maui, Kihei in South Maui, and a number of places in Lahaina, including the entire first floor of Cheeseburger in Paradise. Some roads are still closed because of debris. In Kona, on the Big Island, water came onto the main road, flooding a resort hotel lobby and sweeping tables and chairs out of Bubba Gump's in Kailua Town. There are many homes in the area, so we know we still have more to hear about those.
But at the end of this day, eleven hours and eighteen minutes after the first entry, we're all still here. It's all gonna be okay.
God is still so very, very, good.
Friday, March 4, 2011
The Perks, Perils, and Peculiarities of Paradise
Life here in Hawaii is certainly unique - then again, every place has its own quirks and uniqueness. But, when one lives on a little island in the middle of the Pacific...
We are still in the little condo with the view of the loading dock, but we hope to be out of here fairly soon. This is a very good thing since the large fluorescent lights in the bathroom are going out, the ancient microwave is very indecisive about actually heating anything, the couch has teeeeeny ants that love to bite only me, the utensil drawer in the kitchen is coming off it's runner, and the refrigerator is dead. To make things more interesting, the place is in foreclosure. I know this because while I was drying off after a nice shower (Praise God, that still works!), there came a knock-knock-knockin' at my door. More precisely, there came a pound-pound-poundin'. This guy has a bad job, and he is as polite as he can manage, but he wouldn't go away until I threw on some stuff and got the notice from him - a copy of the one he had attached to the door. This begs the question: why couldn't I just get the one from the door?!?!?!!? Anyway, I guess this place is in limbo, meaning there is no one to call about things falling apart, so we just live in this Charlie Brown of a condo until the Lord moves us on. Usually, I'm a total sucker for C.B. and all underdogs, but I'm ready to gooooo.
I still have to really think about what month it is, let alone what season. So, I can tell by our calendar with our beautiful grandchildren on it that the month is March. I can tell by the number of tourists slowing down on our highways, for seemingly no reason, that it is whale season. Mauians love their whales, but tourists create their own type of road hazard when they see one of these guys spout off (ahahaha!! Get it!?!? SPOUT off!?!??! I crack myself up....). Anyway, the population on the island must double this time of year, so we're used to the increase of traffic, but, as a firefighter friend puts it: "you have all kinds of different driving cultures, driving down a two-lane highway at 60 miles-an-hour looking at whales and texting." Perhaps he exaggerates. But only slightly. There is even a sign I have seen that states, "Whale watching is NOT an emergency - KEEP DRIVING!" But you can hardly blame them. This year there has been what seems like a larger number than usual, and we are all blessed for it! There is no describing how amazing these animals are. I love how all residents of Hawaii - native Hawaiians, long-time residents, recent transplants - love their whales. But ya just gotta be careful to not get hurt while admiring them...
One of the most astonishing things about having honeymooning and birthing humpbacks in the neighborhood is the experience of hearing them sing underwater. It is a beautiful, haunting chorus sung by only the males, and it sounds a little like every planet on the original "Star Trek". Really! I promise!! This winter has been so busy that we haven't had the opportunity to go to our favorite spots where the whales can be heard quite clearly. One of them is Black Rock on Ka'anapali Beach, and the other is what is commonly referred to as Airport Beach, on Ka'anapali's north shore. Valentine's Day fell on a Monday, which is Don's day off, so the day was ours. We opted to have a day long posh picnic and purchased smoked ahi spread, brie, smoked gouda, sardines, and other treats to enjoy at two of our favorite beaches - starting at Airport Beach then going to Olowalu. Sounded sweet and romantic. ahhhh.... We got to Airport for our first course and our first trip into the water. This place has an awesome reef when the conditions are optimum. Unfortunately, conditions were not optimum. They were pretty much all kicked up and poopy. This place is also known for its many rocks that line the beach, leaving only a few places for safe entry and exit. It is also important to be able to see said rocks and safe places before you enter said water and waves. The surf wasn't too big - but then again, it wasn't too little, either. We assured ourselves that we knew where the sandy entrance was, grabbed our gear, and entered between sets. or so we thought. Don entered without much trouble and I followed along, even though it was so kicked up we literally couldn't see our own feet. I looked out and just beyond Don was a swell that I knew would be the one to carry me on out. Not so much. I saw it begin cresting just over my hubby's head, had enough time to yell "WAVE!", then it smacked Don as it sucked the water out from underneath me, then rocked me back up and around, knocking me into one of the invisible rocks. Oh, yes. Did I mention that these are lava rocks?!!? And that these lava rocks are very, very sharp?!?!?! In a split second, I knew I was in trouble - and shouted such to my husband who was surfacing after being clobberd by the wave. So, less than sixty seconds after entering the water, we exited. At first glance, I thought I had simply scraped my leg...and then the red stuff started a-flowin'. Don walked with me over to the shower where there was a nice man who filled the shoe part of his fin and poured it on my long boo-boo. He was very kind and sympathetic - until he found out that we're local and should definitely know better. Don had come back with a towel by then and was doing his best to stem the tide, but all I could see was that it was ONE OF MY BEST TOWELS THAT WE'VE HAD FOREVER!! My priorities are just fine, thank you. Bottom line is that I had several parallel cuts, with one kind of serious one. They were about nine inches long, but even the worst was only deep enough to be gross. Having raised three sons and being a perpetual klutz, I know a ton about taking care of such boo-boos. A few hours later, I had washed it with betadine, added some neosporin, then we got it as closed as possible with wound closure tape, topped it with gauze, finally wrapping the entire thing with the stick-to-itself-bandage tape. Good stuff. Yes, we still had our romantic picnic...on the couch in the living room. Almost three weeks later, and I still have not been in the water (not wise to go in until this is totally healed), I still have not heard the whales singing, and I'm getting pretty cranky. All land and no sea makes Denise an unhappy wahine...
Not all perils are so dramatic. In fact, I have seen some that are pretty fun. Case in point: a couple of weeks ago we attended a birthday party for one of the kids at church. One of the cool things about living here is that when a kid has a birthday, EVERYONE is invited for the celebration! This was a fun bbq at one of the best family beaches on Maui, DT Fleming beach. This is not a beach for snorkeling, except at the extreme north or south of this long crescent. Mostly it's surfing and boogie boarding. On this particular day, it was Presidents Day, so all the kids were out. The birthday boy and his buddies were joined by about a million other kids on their boogie boards. Looking out at multi-colored boards with multi-colored boys wearing multi-colored board shorts it looked like someone had tossed a bag of skittles out on the waves. What was more fun, though, was watching all these kids ride the waves. Instead of being competitive over waves, these guys purposely merged together until there was about a 27-board-and-boy-pile-up in the surf. Instead of looking cranky and ready to rumble, the happy demolition derby boarders laughed, then paddled out to do it again. Too fun!
Among the perks that go along with living in a small town like Lahaina is the access and involvement among local businesses and celebrities with us regular people. One is able to hear Grammy Award winning musicians perform for free at a local restaurant or outdoor pavilion a few times a month. World renown chefs love to participate in local charity events. And just a few days ago, I was having lunch at Duke's with a young friend from church. She had brought me a freshly baked mini-loaf of banana pecan friendship bread. The manager came by, and long story short, Priscilla is "auditioning" her baked goods for the restaurant, and another local restaurant is offering their kitchen for her to do her baking. Too cool huh? Now, Priscilla is naming her new company, getting her business license, and making out her list of baked goods for Duke's and others. By the way, that banana pecan friendship bread? So good that Don and I almost cried over the last bite...
So, we live on this wonderful little island where we can live in a resort and go down to the ocean every night before we go to bed, go worship the Lord every Sunday morning at a park by the ocean, and where our dog - though not with us - has made a new best friend at the lovely kennel/home she is staying at for now - and that friend just happens to be a pig. While it isn't always smooth going, this place never ceases to make me smile.
We are still in the little condo with the view of the loading dock, but we hope to be out of here fairly soon. This is a very good thing since the large fluorescent lights in the bathroom are going out, the ancient microwave is very indecisive about actually heating anything, the couch has teeeeeny ants that love to bite only me, the utensil drawer in the kitchen is coming off it's runner, and the refrigerator is dead. To make things more interesting, the place is in foreclosure. I know this because while I was drying off after a nice shower (Praise God, that still works!), there came a knock-knock-knockin' at my door. More precisely, there came a pound-pound-poundin'. This guy has a bad job, and he is as polite as he can manage, but he wouldn't go away until I threw on some stuff and got the notice from him - a copy of the one he had attached to the door. This begs the question: why couldn't I just get the one from the door?!?!?!!? Anyway, I guess this place is in limbo, meaning there is no one to call about things falling apart, so we just live in this Charlie Brown of a condo until the Lord moves us on. Usually, I'm a total sucker for C.B. and all underdogs, but I'm ready to gooooo.
I still have to really think about what month it is, let alone what season. So, I can tell by our calendar with our beautiful grandchildren on it that the month is March. I can tell by the number of tourists slowing down on our highways, for seemingly no reason, that it is whale season. Mauians love their whales, but tourists create their own type of road hazard when they see one of these guys spout off (ahahaha!! Get it!?!? SPOUT off!?!??! I crack myself up....). Anyway, the population on the island must double this time of year, so we're used to the increase of traffic, but, as a firefighter friend puts it: "you have all kinds of different driving cultures, driving down a two-lane highway at 60 miles-an-hour looking at whales and texting." Perhaps he exaggerates. But only slightly. There is even a sign I have seen that states, "Whale watching is NOT an emergency - KEEP DRIVING!" But you can hardly blame them. This year there has been what seems like a larger number than usual, and we are all blessed for it! There is no describing how amazing these animals are. I love how all residents of Hawaii - native Hawaiians, long-time residents, recent transplants - love their whales. But ya just gotta be careful to not get hurt while admiring them...
One of the most astonishing things about having honeymooning and birthing humpbacks in the neighborhood is the experience of hearing them sing underwater. It is a beautiful, haunting chorus sung by only the males, and it sounds a little like every planet on the original "Star Trek". Really! I promise!! This winter has been so busy that we haven't had the opportunity to go to our favorite spots where the whales can be heard quite clearly. One of them is Black Rock on Ka'anapali Beach, and the other is what is commonly referred to as Airport Beach, on Ka'anapali's north shore. Valentine's Day fell on a Monday, which is Don's day off, so the day was ours. We opted to have a day long posh picnic and purchased smoked ahi spread, brie, smoked gouda, sardines, and other treats to enjoy at two of our favorite beaches - starting at Airport Beach then going to Olowalu. Sounded sweet and romantic. ahhhh.... We got to Airport for our first course and our first trip into the water. This place has an awesome reef when the conditions are optimum. Unfortunately, conditions were not optimum. They were pretty much all kicked up and poopy. This place is also known for its many rocks that line the beach, leaving only a few places for safe entry and exit. It is also important to be able to see said rocks and safe places before you enter said water and waves. The surf wasn't too big - but then again, it wasn't too little, either. We assured ourselves that we knew where the sandy entrance was, grabbed our gear, and entered between sets. or so we thought. Don entered without much trouble and I followed along, even though it was so kicked up we literally couldn't see our own feet. I looked out and just beyond Don was a swell that I knew would be the one to carry me on out. Not so much. I saw it begin cresting just over my hubby's head, had enough time to yell "WAVE!", then it smacked Don as it sucked the water out from underneath me, then rocked me back up and around, knocking me into one of the invisible rocks. Oh, yes. Did I mention that these are lava rocks?!!? And that these lava rocks are very, very sharp?!?!?! In a split second, I knew I was in trouble - and shouted such to my husband who was surfacing after being clobberd by the wave. So, less than sixty seconds after entering the water, we exited. At first glance, I thought I had simply scraped my leg...and then the red stuff started a-flowin'. Don walked with me over to the shower where there was a nice man who filled the shoe part of his fin and poured it on my long boo-boo. He was very kind and sympathetic - until he found out that we're local and should definitely know better. Don had come back with a towel by then and was doing his best to stem the tide, but all I could see was that it was ONE OF MY BEST TOWELS THAT WE'VE HAD FOREVER!! My priorities are just fine, thank you. Bottom line is that I had several parallel cuts, with one kind of serious one. They were about nine inches long, but even the worst was only deep enough to be gross. Having raised three sons and being a perpetual klutz, I know a ton about taking care of such boo-boos. A few hours later, I had washed it with betadine, added some neosporin, then we got it as closed as possible with wound closure tape, topped it with gauze, finally wrapping the entire thing with the stick-to-itself-bandage tape. Good stuff. Yes, we still had our romantic picnic...on the couch in the living room. Almost three weeks later, and I still have not been in the water (not wise to go in until this is totally healed), I still have not heard the whales singing, and I'm getting pretty cranky. All land and no sea makes Denise an unhappy wahine...
Not all perils are so dramatic. In fact, I have seen some that are pretty fun. Case in point: a couple of weeks ago we attended a birthday party for one of the kids at church. One of the cool things about living here is that when a kid has a birthday, EVERYONE is invited for the celebration! This was a fun bbq at one of the best family beaches on Maui, DT Fleming beach. This is not a beach for snorkeling, except at the extreme north or south of this long crescent. Mostly it's surfing and boogie boarding. On this particular day, it was Presidents Day, so all the kids were out. The birthday boy and his buddies were joined by about a million other kids on their boogie boards. Looking out at multi-colored boards with multi-colored boys wearing multi-colored board shorts it looked like someone had tossed a bag of skittles out on the waves. What was more fun, though, was watching all these kids ride the waves. Instead of being competitive over waves, these guys purposely merged together until there was about a 27-board-and-boy-pile-up in the surf. Instead of looking cranky and ready to rumble, the happy demolition derby boarders laughed, then paddled out to do it again. Too fun!
Among the perks that go along with living in a small town like Lahaina is the access and involvement among local businesses and celebrities with us regular people. One is able to hear Grammy Award winning musicians perform for free at a local restaurant or outdoor pavilion a few times a month. World renown chefs love to participate in local charity events. And just a few days ago, I was having lunch at Duke's with a young friend from church. She had brought me a freshly baked mini-loaf of banana pecan friendship bread. The manager came by, and long story short, Priscilla is "auditioning" her baked goods for the restaurant, and another local restaurant is offering their kitchen for her to do her baking. Too cool huh? Now, Priscilla is naming her new company, getting her business license, and making out her list of baked goods for Duke's and others. By the way, that banana pecan friendship bread? So good that Don and I almost cried over the last bite...
So, we live on this wonderful little island where we can live in a resort and go down to the ocean every night before we go to bed, go worship the Lord every Sunday morning at a park by the ocean, and where our dog - though not with us - has made a new best friend at the lovely kennel/home she is staying at for now - and that friend just happens to be a pig. While it isn't always smooth going, this place never ceases to make me smile.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Gestating...
No. Calm down. I am not sharing any miraculous/terrifying/disturbing news. I'm just making one of my weird analogies.
If you have ever been pregnant, or are closely associated with a woman who is/has been, you know that the toughest parts are usually the first few months and the slow-moving final weeks. If you were to compress that nine months into five, this would be a good metaphor for our lives. Well...at least in my little mind.
As opposed to being all ecstatic (hopefully!) like when one hears about an impending new life, we were less than delirious with joy when we began this adventure last September after finding out that our lease would not be renewed. It was pretty rough leaving a place that we had called home for a year, and had fallen in love with. Our first temporary spot on the water had its obvious perks, but it had no privacy, things didn't work properly, and there were a few uninvited visitors- ranging from the 2-to-6-legged variety. But we were together, the three of us. When we moved on December 1, we came to this little place. The heart-wrenching part for us was leaving FloJo at a kennel in Upcountry Maui. Of course, she's been having a blast with the owners' kids and her other doggy friends. But I digress. The week we were here before going to the mainland was pretty good - but there were some issues to be sure. But since we were so excited about flying to the mainland to see our loved ones for Christmas, it was easy to overlook the problems.
I can't say that this has continued to be the case.
The warts of this place have gotten bigger and more uncomfortable to deal with - not unlike a pregnancy, but without the cute results. But we do what we can. We got one of those magic foam type mattress toppers since the bed was pretty much rock hard. We have learned to keep an eye on anything that is in the microwave, since this antique's dial for the time doesn't move. At all. We have learned to move around each other in this little space and one bathroom. We've even gotten used to the miniscule clothing storage (who needs big closets when you're on a Hawaiian vacation!?!?) But we can't seem to get past the dark, cave-like feeing of this place. It is in a wing of the building that juts out from the north side of a U-shaped building. Not only does it miss all the sun this time of year, but it is in the shadow of the main building. The results are a dark, rather grim little mood. Our bedroom only has those high up window, because it is on the hallway where tourists and their luggage go clackity-clackity-clackity to their home-away-from-home for the week - and where they leave at 3:00 a.m. to go see the sunrise on Haleakala or return at 2:00 a.m. after indulging in a little nightlife. There is also the hum of the elevators which move happy passengers up and down the building at about, oh, a foot from our headboard...and heads. We even have some kind of fluorescent light droning from....somewhere.
The view of the ocean is only if you're standing on the lanai - not sitting, mind you, only standing. But it has a dynamite view of the alley and loading dock for the resort, and all the accompanying car noises and back-up beep-beeps. It has only the slider on the lanai and a small window in the bedroom in the back, so fresh air is...limited. This is the space in which I write and try to do some business. Considering that my business and my writing all require creativity, and this place is not quite the inspiration-promoting I generally thrive in, I'm not exactly getting tons done. It's not easy, but we do our best.
What offsets all the challenges of this little condo is our proximity to the beach - just down three floors and a beautiful walk through the resort! Don and I have found ourselves getting into some very cool rituals - we go down there most mornings to do our devotional and pray. That is sometimes challenging because it is anything but a quiet place, since it can be quite a thoroughfare of tourists, We'll stay there for a bit and watch whales and just have a beautiful start to our day. In the late afternoon we'll head down for sunset - and another whale show. Before bed, we head down for one last visit with the waves. In all of this, we are driven and compelled to say our praises to God, the inventor of all this beauty.
I have also taken to working down on the beach. There is a lovely young woman who works at the beach/pool activities kiosk that lets me have one of the beach front lounges for free. But don't tell anybody. She doesn't need all you people showing up to ask for a free cabana. Sheesh. Anyway, I'll sit there and make notes and calls and admittedly, seeking creative inspiration from underneath my eyelids. You'd be amazed how that works!
So, back to my pregnancy analogy...or metaphor - take your pick. The last few weeks before the moving, kicking, sleep-robbing beach ball makes his/her noisy, joyful, tear-producing entrance into open air tend to be the most difficult of the average mommy's pregnancy. If we were to extend that to us, we are now in our last three weeks of...gestating. We haven't seen our dog since before December. I haven't seen my paints or laid a brush on canvas since September. But we know that God has already picked the right home for us - He just hasn't told us yet. It's a crazy, exhilarating, stomach-lurching rollercoaster. But God's got our back.
And He still continues to reveal Himself and surprise us. Last week during one of my "workdays" on the beach, I was listening to some Christian music and BarlowGirl came on with "Here's My Life". The quiet opening line is "Once again I've said my good-byes, to those I love most". There was something so powerful, so pointed about this line - and it revealed something to me that blew my socks off and brought my humbly before God. Don and I have always said that what brought us here, is our love for this island, we prayed, and God said "yes." Turns out, I had that backwards. I LOVED my life in San Diego! I loved the weather (except for May-Gray/June-Gloom), the ocean, mountains. We were being blessed by friends in our church and heavily involved in a ministry we loved. And of course, our kids and grandkids who are simply the joy of our existance. As much as I loved Maui, I never wanted to live here. Then God began to change my heart, Don's heart. We became more discontented with the life in San Diego and more in love with the life style and people in Maui. And now, we can't imagine our life anywhere else.
God has chosen us to be here and we are grateful that He has. He knew how hard it would be sometimes. He knew of the trials and challenges. But He blesses us in such a personal way! One particularly rough afternoon was followed by watching a mama humpback and her baby jump over and over again! And just for me (I hope all those other scores of people on the beach appreciated their proximity to me as I was being so blessed, because they got to enjoy the show, too)!
And as crazy as this sounds to any non-believing readers, it's just simply the way it is. And Praise God for that!
If you have ever been pregnant, or are closely associated with a woman who is/has been, you know that the toughest parts are usually the first few months and the slow-moving final weeks. If you were to compress that nine months into five, this would be a good metaphor for our lives. Well...at least in my little mind.
As opposed to being all ecstatic (hopefully!) like when one hears about an impending new life, we were less than delirious with joy when we began this adventure last September after finding out that our lease would not be renewed. It was pretty rough leaving a place that we had called home for a year, and had fallen in love with. Our first temporary spot on the water had its obvious perks, but it had no privacy, things didn't work properly, and there were a few uninvited visitors- ranging from the 2-to-6-legged variety. But we were together, the three of us. When we moved on December 1, we came to this little place. The heart-wrenching part for us was leaving FloJo at a kennel in Upcountry Maui. Of course, she's been having a blast with the owners' kids and her other doggy friends. But I digress. The week we were here before going to the mainland was pretty good - but there were some issues to be sure. But since we were so excited about flying to the mainland to see our loved ones for Christmas, it was easy to overlook the problems.
I can't say that this has continued to be the case.
The warts of this place have gotten bigger and more uncomfortable to deal with - not unlike a pregnancy, but without the cute results. But we do what we can. We got one of those magic foam type mattress toppers since the bed was pretty much rock hard. We have learned to keep an eye on anything that is in the microwave, since this antique's dial for the time doesn't move. At all. We have learned to move around each other in this little space and one bathroom. We've even gotten used to the miniscule clothing storage (who needs big closets when you're on a Hawaiian vacation!?!?) But we can't seem to get past the dark, cave-like feeing of this place. It is in a wing of the building that juts out from the north side of a U-shaped building. Not only does it miss all the sun this time of year, but it is in the shadow of the main building. The results are a dark, rather grim little mood. Our bedroom only has those high up window, because it is on the hallway where tourists and their luggage go clackity-clackity-clackity to their home-away-from-home for the week - and where they leave at 3:00 a.m. to go see the sunrise on Haleakala or return at 2:00 a.m. after indulging in a little nightlife. There is also the hum of the elevators which move happy passengers up and down the building at about, oh, a foot from our headboard...and heads. We even have some kind of fluorescent light droning from....somewhere.
The view of the ocean is only if you're standing on the lanai - not sitting, mind you, only standing. But it has a dynamite view of the alley and loading dock for the resort, and all the accompanying car noises and back-up beep-beeps. It has only the slider on the lanai and a small window in the bedroom in the back, so fresh air is...limited. This is the space in which I write and try to do some business. Considering that my business and my writing all require creativity, and this place is not quite the inspiration-promoting I generally thrive in, I'm not exactly getting tons done. It's not easy, but we do our best.
What offsets all the challenges of this little condo is our proximity to the beach - just down three floors and a beautiful walk through the resort! Don and I have found ourselves getting into some very cool rituals - we go down there most mornings to do our devotional and pray. That is sometimes challenging because it is anything but a quiet place, since it can be quite a thoroughfare of tourists, We'll stay there for a bit and watch whales and just have a beautiful start to our day. In the late afternoon we'll head down for sunset - and another whale show. Before bed, we head down for one last visit with the waves. In all of this, we are driven and compelled to say our praises to God, the inventor of all this beauty.
I have also taken to working down on the beach. There is a lovely young woman who works at the beach/pool activities kiosk that lets me have one of the beach front lounges for free. But don't tell anybody. She doesn't need all you people showing up to ask for a free cabana. Sheesh. Anyway, I'll sit there and make notes and calls and admittedly, seeking creative inspiration from underneath my eyelids. You'd be amazed how that works!
So, back to my pregnancy analogy...or metaphor - take your pick. The last few weeks before the moving, kicking, sleep-robbing beach ball makes his/her noisy, joyful, tear-producing entrance into open air tend to be the most difficult of the average mommy's pregnancy. If we were to extend that to us, we are now in our last three weeks of...gestating. We haven't seen our dog since before December. I haven't seen my paints or laid a brush on canvas since September. But we know that God has already picked the right home for us - He just hasn't told us yet. It's a crazy, exhilarating, stomach-lurching rollercoaster. But God's got our back.
And He still continues to reveal Himself and surprise us. Last week during one of my "workdays" on the beach, I was listening to some Christian music and BarlowGirl came on with "Here's My Life". The quiet opening line is "Once again I've said my good-byes, to those I love most". There was something so powerful, so pointed about this line - and it revealed something to me that blew my socks off and brought my humbly before God. Don and I have always said that what brought us here, is our love for this island, we prayed, and God said "yes." Turns out, I had that backwards. I LOVED my life in San Diego! I loved the weather (except for May-Gray/June-Gloom), the ocean, mountains. We were being blessed by friends in our church and heavily involved in a ministry we loved. And of course, our kids and grandkids who are simply the joy of our existance. As much as I loved Maui, I never wanted to live here. Then God began to change my heart, Don's heart. We became more discontented with the life in San Diego and more in love with the life style and people in Maui. And now, we can't imagine our life anywhere else.
God has chosen us to be here and we are grateful that He has. He knew how hard it would be sometimes. He knew of the trials and challenges. But He blesses us in such a personal way! One particularly rough afternoon was followed by watching a mama humpback and her baby jump over and over again! And just for me (I hope all those other scores of people on the beach appreciated their proximity to me as I was being so blessed, because they got to enjoy the show, too)!
And as crazy as this sounds to any non-believing readers, it's just simply the way it is. And Praise God for that!
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Winter (HAHAHAHAHA!!!) Part kolu
Previously on "Denise and Don's Big Adventure - Winter"... Just kidding!! Don't be scared. I'm not going to recap, except to say we were in pouring rain, our awning plastered to the side of the motorhome, and the laundry stranded in the trunk of our rental car. A few days later, we had enough of a break in the rain that we were able to bring laundry in and wrapped presents out - through the front window. Now, that was a sight. This was good because the kids' tree was short on gifts, and on and I were short on clean undies. FIn the meantime, Don had found a repair guy in the area who suggested we call our insurance. yay! He would not be able to fix it in the time we were there (he has since), but he did roll it back up and zip-tied it in place. No joke. Big, strong zip-ties.
The rain was really epic. In fact, there was some pretty serious flooding in So Cal. And HARD rain!! Don and I usually love the sound of rain on our motorhome roof - but this sound was more like being surrounded by about a thousand middle school, rhythmically challenged snare drummers who are jacked up on about a quart of red bull. But it did eventually abate...
We also were all dealing with various mutations and variations of colds and/or stomach bug (hit and run variety). I managed to fight off the worst of my cold, but Don (at this writing) is STILL not rid of it! But as big of a nuisance as it was for us, you can imagine how much fun it was for Kristin with two little ones and rain rain rain. You can visit the mall just so much. Josh was also a little off his feed - sorta. He still managed to eat a pretty good lunch. We know this because a while later, he launched it halfway across the living room. So, now we have Josh crying, Grampy sneezing, coughing and blowing, Kristin taking care of Josh, Kyle and I trying to clean up the toxic spill, and Amber doing her level best to walk in it. And the rain continued. K&K's laundry is out in a little room on the balcony. SInce it was still coming down persians and poodles, Kyle and I just tossed the contaminated towels, rags, and baby blanket out on the balcony. I like to think of it as passive pre-treating, you know...going green....
The real concern was that we had the schedule of a young socialite for the next few days - family gatherings, church services, manic gift opening, and general gluttony - and we didn't know how welcome an entire family of Typhoid Mary's would be. Kristin did end up with a short but nasty bout of the tummy crud, but we were all in fine fettle (exactly what is a fettle and why is it good when it's fine!?!?) by the time the first of the festivities began. Amber really figured out the whole opening-presents-with-my-name-on-them-for-fun-and-profit this year, and by the time it was Christmas morning at Chez K Dalt, she was in a veritable frenzy. Sadly, her daddy was in a different type of frenzy - he got not one, but BOTH bugs. It does not matter how old you are, being sick on Christmas is just wrong. Kyle did his best, but while the rest of us enjoyed a big breakfast in the morning and a big turkey dinner that evening, his Christmas breakfast-lunch-dinner was crackers and Sprite. The efforts to settled his tum-tum met with, shall we say, limited success. ah, well...
The next few days were jam-packed with more stuff, including two more sleep-overs with Amber. She brought her tea set so we could have a tea party, said beverage served with sugar and...cheese. yum. We had another visit to Sea World, then celebrated Uncle John's birthday with Guncle (Uncle Greg), Nana Claire (my mom)...but no Uncle John. He had to work on his birthday, and pretty late at that, so we just had to chowie it up without him. We had a shared and delayed celebration a couple of days later when Josh turned one - a dinner with all the Daltons, tall and small, as well as friend and business partner, Autumn, with her soon-to-be-fiance, Tarkus. Wow. Lotta people. Sadly, that was our last total clan gathering before we headed back to Maui.
Our last day was spent putting the motorhome back in storage, zip-tied awning and all, and have one last afternoon and evening with grandkiddies and their parents. After a minimum of drama getting the coach ready to go, in good shape to be stored, and over to Hemet to its little spot, we had a nice dinner with the K Dalts. We smooched and squooshed the heck out of Amber and Josh, hugged their mom and dad, then off to L.A. to spend the night in a hotel close to LAX, so we had a quick trip for our early flight.
Don and I like to pride ourselves in being smart enough to learn from our mistakes. In this case, we learned from last year's stay at the grimmest Hilton ever to stay at a nice Embassy. This also meant free breakfast. Very cool. Very comfy. I also learned to dress for my destination instead of departure, so I was back in shorts and slippers, ready for travel. But I also had a jacket, so I was being sensible. After a nice night's sleep, we got up - but a bit later than we planned. Not to worry. Still had plenty of time. I was concerned, and thought that since we had the car to return, perhaps we should forgo breakfast, and just get some coffee and a muffin downstairs. No, by gum, Don was determined to have the hot breakfast offered by Embassy. We got our breakfast, and by this time I was getting pretty spazzed - about the passing time but I was also beginning to regret my wardrobe selection as the temperature in Los Angeles was in the low thirties and the large atrium at the hotel was anything but cozy. We finally got out of there and headed for the car rental agency - and time was moving. All this time we had been downing water and coffee - water because we would not be able to take these last three or four bottles of Aquafina onto the plane and coffee, well... because it was free.
We got our car turned in with no drama, and one bus had just left for the airport. Not to worry - another pulled right up. Unfortunately for us - but fortunately for a bunch of others - this generous driver decided to wait for each new person heading for the airport until his bus was full. I know what you're thinking. But the previous bus left with only about four or five folks and there was another bus right behind us for these other people!!! We finally got moving, and by this time we knew we were reeeeally cutting it close. For those of you unfamiliar with LAX, there are about 3,301 terminals, with an equal number of airlines per terminal. The 97 people in the bus with us, I swear were each flying separately as we stopped at every airline and every terminal. Okay. So the math doesn't work. But still. We were the LAST two off the bus after being the first ones on. I realize there is something very Biblical about that, but by this point, we weren't the least little bit interested in scriptural metaphors. Fortunately, the lines to check I weren't long, and we had done the online boarding so all we needed was to check our bags and print our passes. Everything was going nifty - until one of our bags weighed in at 53.4 pounds. Yes, that 3.4 pounds was going to cost us a couple hundred so I had no choice but to redistribute 3.4 pounds - kind of like Price is Right in pounds: higher, lower, lower, higher, oooooh, time is up!! Actually, the guessing wasn't as bad as the contents spilling out onto the airport linoleum. Usually when I pack, all my dainties are neatly folded underneath pants, tops, etc. Usually. But not this time. There for all to see was my undies flying out as my not-even-close-to-calm husband frantically tried to feel his way to 3.4 pounds. I grabbed a pair of shoes and a couple of sweaters, smooshed them into one of the other bags, pushed the dainties back into the larger bag, and all was weighed, tagged, and tossed onto the belt. Don and I breathed a sigh of relief and headed for the security line.
At this point, we were also beginning to do the toity tango as our waters and coffee had pretty much reached the end of their journey through our system. To make matters more interesting, LAX boasts some of the most inefficient and slow security lines we've ever experienced. Now, to be sure, we are anything but jet-setting world travelers, but we have seen enough of security lines to recognize when, just perhaps, things could be better. We were in what looked like a relatively short line, but it was veritable slug in speed. There were only two x-ray machines for the bags, one metal detector, and one rather bored looking TSA agent in front of said detector. Even though t was New Year's Eve, and travel was relatively light, it was still the end of the holiday season and plenty of folks like us were headed home. This was nuts. The line was long enough that there was one of those breaks to allow for traffic to flow through, with a rather grim looking guard to make sure that harried travelers knew that this was not the end of the line - that could be found about 25 people to his right. So, we crawled our way at a slug's pace until we reached the glum guard - and realized that we had neglected to get our boarding passes printed. Yes, really. Sometimes the self-check-in has incompetent people doing the checking-in. Think about it...We told Mr. Guard and he told us that we had better get them. REALLY?!!? We charged over to our ticket agent, but she was busy elsewhere with another agent. At this point, after flashing my undies (in the SUITCASE!!), we weren't concerned about looking like fools. That ship had sailed and was clean over the horizon. So we started waving her down like we were hailing a cab in a rainstorm - and she finally saw us, and helped us get our passes. Back to the line -WHICH HAD NOT MOVED BY A SINGLE PERSON!! The guard let us slide right back in, so now we had passed the break and bean the snakey Disneyland line.
Things were getting hairy. Not only was our departure time getting closer, our toity tango was getting downright manic. A TSA agent came around the lines and asked if anyone had an 8:30 flight. We held up our hands and said that we had and 8:34 departure - to which he replied (not even kidding) "Oh, you're fine. Plenty of time" In what universe is 4 minutes plenty of time to catch a flight at a gate nine miles away?!!? We were also behind a large (about 9 people) family who we heard was going to Mexico City. They had 7 extra minutes. Oh, the luxury of so much extra time. The family reached the front of the line and at this point, about three of them starting giving kisses goodbye to the other six!! And they were some huggy-kissy-smoochy emotional goodbyes!! The agents moved them along, and split them over the two x-rays, so we were still stuck in line. But wait!! They have three more minutes than we do!!! You could also tell that these good people had totally enjoyed their time in SoCal, as every Disney Princess doll, Universal Studios hat, and Sea World stuffed Shamu sort of erupted out of their bags. So we waited...and trotted in place.
Our turn finally came. Remember how I was dressed? (I know. It was many, many paragraphs ago) I quickly slip off my flipflops, put them in the bin with my jacket my jacket, put my camera bag on the belt, and head for the metal detector. This young woman, who had a sort of glazed over expression - until I showed up. She took a double take at my long shorts, tank top, and bare feet and said "Aren't you freezing?" Of course, I am!! Which I told her. In those words. But I told her that this was appropriate for our destination, so she didn't think I was too crazy. Much.
So, now Don and I were now at as much of a sprint as two grandparents with arms full of bags and bladders full of...well, just full. We didn't find our respective potties until the area near our gates. With an agreement to meet at our gate, we reached dashed in. As I exited much more comfortable, I looked for our gate. It was at the faaaaaaaar end of the giant hallway. As a departing traveler, there is a sound that will make your blood run cold and your legs move fast: "Final Boarding for Flight 42, departure for Kahului, Maui. Looking for passengers Dalton, party of two." Oh, lordy lordy lordy. Again, since my dignity had long since vanished, I moved as fast as I could, waving my arms frantically, saying, "It's me! Me! Me!" I made it to the gate - but there was no hubby. I finally see him exit but he isn't moving as fast as he needs to. He doesn't even hear as his name is being called!! He finally sees me waving frantically, and sort of scoots a little faster. But we get there, boarded, carry-ons stored, seat with seat belts fastened and tray tables up.
And then took time to thank God for getting us there on time, for giving us a warm home to return to, and for blessing us with kids and grandkids to miss.
The rain was really epic. In fact, there was some pretty serious flooding in So Cal. And HARD rain!! Don and I usually love the sound of rain on our motorhome roof - but this sound was more like being surrounded by about a thousand middle school, rhythmically challenged snare drummers who are jacked up on about a quart of red bull. But it did eventually abate...
We also were all dealing with various mutations and variations of colds and/or stomach bug (hit and run variety). I managed to fight off the worst of my cold, but Don (at this writing) is STILL not rid of it! But as big of a nuisance as it was for us, you can imagine how much fun it was for Kristin with two little ones and rain rain rain. You can visit the mall just so much. Josh was also a little off his feed - sorta. He still managed to eat a pretty good lunch. We know this because a while later, he launched it halfway across the living room. So, now we have Josh crying, Grampy sneezing, coughing and blowing, Kristin taking care of Josh, Kyle and I trying to clean up the toxic spill, and Amber doing her level best to walk in it. And the rain continued. K&K's laundry is out in a little room on the balcony. SInce it was still coming down persians and poodles, Kyle and I just tossed the contaminated towels, rags, and baby blanket out on the balcony. I like to think of it as passive pre-treating, you know...going green....
The real concern was that we had the schedule of a young socialite for the next few days - family gatherings, church services, manic gift opening, and general gluttony - and we didn't know how welcome an entire family of Typhoid Mary's would be. Kristin did end up with a short but nasty bout of the tummy crud, but we were all in fine fettle (exactly what is a fettle and why is it good when it's fine!?!?) by the time the first of the festivities began. Amber really figured out the whole opening-presents-with-my-name-on-them-for-fun-and-profit this year, and by the time it was Christmas morning at Chez K Dalt, she was in a veritable frenzy. Sadly, her daddy was in a different type of frenzy - he got not one, but BOTH bugs. It does not matter how old you are, being sick on Christmas is just wrong. Kyle did his best, but while the rest of us enjoyed a big breakfast in the morning and a big turkey dinner that evening, his Christmas breakfast-lunch-dinner was crackers and Sprite. The efforts to settled his tum-tum met with, shall we say, limited success. ah, well...
The next few days were jam-packed with more stuff, including two more sleep-overs with Amber. She brought her tea set so we could have a tea party, said beverage served with sugar and...cheese. yum. We had another visit to Sea World, then celebrated Uncle John's birthday with Guncle (Uncle Greg), Nana Claire (my mom)...but no Uncle John. He had to work on his birthday, and pretty late at that, so we just had to chowie it up without him. We had a shared and delayed celebration a couple of days later when Josh turned one - a dinner with all the Daltons, tall and small, as well as friend and business partner, Autumn, with her soon-to-be-fiance, Tarkus. Wow. Lotta people. Sadly, that was our last total clan gathering before we headed back to Maui.
Our last day was spent putting the motorhome back in storage, zip-tied awning and all, and have one last afternoon and evening with grandkiddies and their parents. After a minimum of drama getting the coach ready to go, in good shape to be stored, and over to Hemet to its little spot, we had a nice dinner with the K Dalts. We smooched and squooshed the heck out of Amber and Josh, hugged their mom and dad, then off to L.A. to spend the night in a hotel close to LAX, so we had a quick trip for our early flight.
Don and I like to pride ourselves in being smart enough to learn from our mistakes. In this case, we learned from last year's stay at the grimmest Hilton ever to stay at a nice Embassy. This also meant free breakfast. Very cool. Very comfy. I also learned to dress for my destination instead of departure, so I was back in shorts and slippers, ready for travel. But I also had a jacket, so I was being sensible. After a nice night's sleep, we got up - but a bit later than we planned. Not to worry. Still had plenty of time. I was concerned, and thought that since we had the car to return, perhaps we should forgo breakfast, and just get some coffee and a muffin downstairs. No, by gum, Don was determined to have the hot breakfast offered by Embassy. We got our breakfast, and by this time I was getting pretty spazzed - about the passing time but I was also beginning to regret my wardrobe selection as the temperature in Los Angeles was in the low thirties and the large atrium at the hotel was anything but cozy. We finally got out of there and headed for the car rental agency - and time was moving. All this time we had been downing water and coffee - water because we would not be able to take these last three or four bottles of Aquafina onto the plane and coffee, well... because it was free.
We got our car turned in with no drama, and one bus had just left for the airport. Not to worry - another pulled right up. Unfortunately for us - but fortunately for a bunch of others - this generous driver decided to wait for each new person heading for the airport until his bus was full. I know what you're thinking. But the previous bus left with only about four or five folks and there was another bus right behind us for these other people!!! We finally got moving, and by this time we knew we were reeeeally cutting it close. For those of you unfamiliar with LAX, there are about 3,301 terminals, with an equal number of airlines per terminal. The 97 people in the bus with us, I swear were each flying separately as we stopped at every airline and every terminal. Okay. So the math doesn't work. But still. We were the LAST two off the bus after being the first ones on. I realize there is something very Biblical about that, but by this point, we weren't the least little bit interested in scriptural metaphors. Fortunately, the lines to check I weren't long, and we had done the online boarding so all we needed was to check our bags and print our passes. Everything was going nifty - until one of our bags weighed in at 53.4 pounds. Yes, that 3.4 pounds was going to cost us a couple hundred so I had no choice but to redistribute 3.4 pounds - kind of like Price is Right in pounds: higher, lower, lower, higher, oooooh, time is up!! Actually, the guessing wasn't as bad as the contents spilling out onto the airport linoleum. Usually when I pack, all my dainties are neatly folded underneath pants, tops, etc. Usually. But not this time. There for all to see was my undies flying out as my not-even-close-to-calm husband frantically tried to feel his way to 3.4 pounds. I grabbed a pair of shoes and a couple of sweaters, smooshed them into one of the other bags, pushed the dainties back into the larger bag, and all was weighed, tagged, and tossed onto the belt. Don and I breathed a sigh of relief and headed for the security line.
At this point, we were also beginning to do the toity tango as our waters and coffee had pretty much reached the end of their journey through our system. To make matters more interesting, LAX boasts some of the most inefficient and slow security lines we've ever experienced. Now, to be sure, we are anything but jet-setting world travelers, but we have seen enough of security lines to recognize when, just perhaps, things could be better. We were in what looked like a relatively short line, but it was veritable slug in speed. There were only two x-ray machines for the bags, one metal detector, and one rather bored looking TSA agent in front of said detector. Even though t was New Year's Eve, and travel was relatively light, it was still the end of the holiday season and plenty of folks like us were headed home. This was nuts. The line was long enough that there was one of those breaks to allow for traffic to flow through, with a rather grim looking guard to make sure that harried travelers knew that this was not the end of the line - that could be found about 25 people to his right. So, we crawled our way at a slug's pace until we reached the glum guard - and realized that we had neglected to get our boarding passes printed. Yes, really. Sometimes the self-check-in has incompetent people doing the checking-in. Think about it...We told Mr. Guard and he told us that we had better get them. REALLY?!!? We charged over to our ticket agent, but she was busy elsewhere with another agent. At this point, after flashing my undies (in the SUITCASE!!), we weren't concerned about looking like fools. That ship had sailed and was clean over the horizon. So we started waving her down like we were hailing a cab in a rainstorm - and she finally saw us, and helped us get our passes. Back to the line -WHICH HAD NOT MOVED BY A SINGLE PERSON!! The guard let us slide right back in, so now we had passed the break and bean the snakey Disneyland line.
Things were getting hairy. Not only was our departure time getting closer, our toity tango was getting downright manic. A TSA agent came around the lines and asked if anyone had an 8:30 flight. We held up our hands and said that we had and 8:34 departure - to which he replied (not even kidding) "Oh, you're fine. Plenty of time" In what universe is 4 minutes plenty of time to catch a flight at a gate nine miles away?!!? We were also behind a large (about 9 people) family who we heard was going to Mexico City. They had 7 extra minutes. Oh, the luxury of so much extra time. The family reached the front of the line and at this point, about three of them starting giving kisses goodbye to the other six!! And they were some huggy-kissy-smoochy emotional goodbyes!! The agents moved them along, and split them over the two x-rays, so we were still stuck in line. But wait!! They have three more minutes than we do!!! You could also tell that these good people had totally enjoyed their time in SoCal, as every Disney Princess doll, Universal Studios hat, and Sea World stuffed Shamu sort of erupted out of their bags. So we waited...and trotted in place.
Our turn finally came. Remember how I was dressed? (I know. It was many, many paragraphs ago) I quickly slip off my flipflops, put them in the bin with my jacket my jacket, put my camera bag on the belt, and head for the metal detector. This young woman, who had a sort of glazed over expression - until I showed up. She took a double take at my long shorts, tank top, and bare feet and said "Aren't you freezing?" Of course, I am!! Which I told her. In those words. But I told her that this was appropriate for our destination, so she didn't think I was too crazy. Much.
So, now Don and I were now at as much of a sprint as two grandparents with arms full of bags and bladders full of...well, just full. We didn't find our respective potties until the area near our gates. With an agreement to meet at our gate, we reached dashed in. As I exited much more comfortable, I looked for our gate. It was at the faaaaaaaar end of the giant hallway. As a departing traveler, there is a sound that will make your blood run cold and your legs move fast: "Final Boarding for Flight 42, departure for Kahului, Maui. Looking for passengers Dalton, party of two." Oh, lordy lordy lordy. Again, since my dignity had long since vanished, I moved as fast as I could, waving my arms frantically, saying, "It's me! Me! Me!" I made it to the gate - but there was no hubby. I finally see him exit but he isn't moving as fast as he needs to. He doesn't even hear as his name is being called!! He finally sees me waving frantically, and sort of scoots a little faster. But we get there, boarded, carry-ons stored, seat with seat belts fastened and tray tables up.
And then took time to thank God for getting us there on time, for giving us a warm home to return to, and for blessing us with kids and grandkids to miss.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
"Winter" (chuckle-snort!), Part deux
I guess I should be counting in Hawaiian....but I don't know how.
So, let's move to this past Christmas visit to the mainland, and further evidence that Don and I are the modern day Laurel and Hardy of the travel set.
After last Christmas' lengthy fiasco (with lots of fun and blessings throughout), we made some different choices. Last spring, we moved our motorhome down from Portland to a storage area near Kyle and Kristin's place in Temecula. Pechanga (site of the oh-so-traditional Family Christmas dinner last Christmas) has a beautiful RV park, so that would be our home base. The other thing we opted to do was scoot over there earlier and not stay as long. Well...it was only about five days shorter, but, whatever.
We didn't take the red-eye, but we still arrived pretty late in the evening. Do not ask me what I was thinking when we left warm, lovely Maui, but I was wearing slippers (flipflops) and crop pants. I think I had a sweatshirt or light jacket or something, but it was, to say the least, insufficient. It was about 9:30 by the time we were getting our rental car, but the office was warm and comfy. Unfortunately, there is no valet at car rentals, so we were just told the number of the stall where our car was. We got to our cars designated space, and found there was nothing there but...space. My teeth are chattering by then, and the office building is closed, but Don found someone to go get our car - all the while I stood there guarding our bags, teeth chattering, knees knocking, toes frozen - until our car finally arrived.
The drive from the LAX area to Temecula is more or less a 90-minute drive. Our tummies were still on Maui time, and that fruit and cheese tray on the airplane was a distant memory, so food was very much on our mind. I won't bore you with the gory details, but we were making time on freeways and my husband thought that a Denny's would simply announce itself a mile or so before the appropriate exit. I, however, thought we should, perhaps, look at surface streets, maybe, where there are RESTAURANTS!!! Sooooo....maybe I was just a little hungry and tired and cold and cranky - but that doesn't mean I wasn't right. We arrived in Temecula, still starving, and Don took an exit that had a Jack-in-the-Box. I was desperate at this point, so I was begging him to turn around and go back to Jack. He finally agreed to do a u-turn at the next intersection - which was just across the freeway from our hotel. And thar she blew!! Denny's. By that time, it was about in the low forties, high thirties and the rattling of teeth sounded like castanets played by a flamenco dancer jacked up on half-a-dozen triple espressos as we walked to the front door - but we had warm food and then a warm bed in a warm hotel.
The next day we began our vacation in earnest - seeing grandbabies (and their parents), picked out a Christmas tree, decorating said tree, and just general hanging around. We also picked up the motorhome from storage, but since it was getting a new HD antenna the next day, Don just parked it out front of the hotel. I was still doing a little Christmas shopping, so he decided to relax and have some yummy popcorn. Unfortunately, Don failed to notice that the bag was a mini bag and he set the time for the regular sized bag. By the time I got there, he was opening up all windows in the RV. He pointed to a still smoldering, charred, mini-sized bag of what used to be popcorn resting in the shrubs. I would venture to say that he was making the same panicked sounds he had made almost one year before. And I just cracked up...again. In a bit of a deja vu moment, we had a stench to clear and a blackened microwave to clean. We opened up windows, sprayed febreze, washed out the microwave, and left for the kids' house - Don still muttering, me still laughing...quitely.
The next few days were pretty much bliss. We have now become THOSE people - the grandparenty-types who swoop in and do everything fun! Amber spent the night in the RV with Grammy and Grampy on the eve of our first big adventure: Sea World and ...THE DENTIST!!! Wooo-hoo!! Do we know how to spoil our grandchildren, or what?!!? This first time having a little slumber party with our granddaughter was something we'd been looking forward to since....ummmm...forever. Her mom assured me that Amber loved showers, so I got it nice and warmed up, then plopped my little nakey grandbaby in. Have you seen Jurassic park?? You know the velociraptors that have that ear-piecing shriek as they hunt!?!? Well, that is approximately the sound that emanated from my sweet granddaughter's mouth as the shower streams hit her. After fearing for a moment that I had done something horrible cruel to this child, I realized that she probably liked the handheld shower. Handed her the shower. Crisis ended. We got our girl snuggled in her jammies, read a couple stories, and had to tell her to put her head on the pillow only 2,619 times. In other words, the evening was perfect.
Since it was time for a dental check-up for Don and me, we fit that in on our way to Sea World. This is the same dentist we have had since before Amber's daddy was born, so the dentist and his were really tickled to meet Kyle's progeny. Of course, that meant that Amber needed careful watching while one or the other of us was in the big chair. Grampy went first, so Amber and I sat quietly and read in the waiting room, going in a couple of times to see how Grampy was doing in the big chair (Grampy was verrrry brave!) Then came Grammy's turn for her check-up. As I'm all laid out with the dentist and/or his assistant spelunking in my mouth, I hear our little granddaughter racing up and down the hallways, peering in at me once in a while. AH, well.
Sea World with Amber was a blast! Since it was before the schools were out on break, we pretty much had the run of the place. Amber could go on rides pretty much at will, and as many times in a row as she pleased. This did not work out so well a few weeks later when returned, along with half of San Diego as well as both teams - with their families, boosters and marching bands - that were playing at the Holiday Bowl. But I'm getting ahead of myself. When we left Sea World that afternoon, we had a tired little girl who proclaimed that her favorite thing was the rollercoaster. Of course, she hadn't actually gone on said rollercoaster, but I guess that wasn't an issue since I hadn't been specific enough in my query. A couple of days after that, we did the whole Disneyland trip, with Uncle John coming along. Grampy Don, ever the trouper, drove the motorhome so the gang was all together. Amber finally did get to go on a rollercoaster, but it was just the one in Toon Town. This child is fearless - but not soundless. Grampy, Uncle John, little Josh, and I were hanging out a good couple hundred feet away. Remember that raptor screech I described two paragraphs above?!!? Yeeeeah....that screech. We could hear that over all the crowds and music and rides - but this was a screech and squeal and scream of absolute excitement. Although, I'm not sure that the people on the ride whose ear drums were bleeding appreciated the difference...
A couple of days after Dizzyland, Don and I flew over to Phoenix to take care of some business for his clients/friends, as well as see his family. Somewhere between the Happiest Place on Earth and our first night in our friends' guest bedroom, a bug found its way to Don's head. It found mine the next night. Are you kidding!?!? By the time we got back to Temecula, we were both moderately miserable - but not enough to get in our way of a good time.
While we were gone, the first of what would turn into several days of rain hit, and the Monday after we got back, it was still miserable and mushy. We were going bowling with the K-Dalts, and when we left the motorhome the rain was no more than an annoying drizzle with nary a breath of wind. That changed. We knew that when Don got a call as we were changing into our regular shoes (sadly returning the high-stylin' bowling shoes). The manager of the RV park calling him to say that our awning was now ON TOP of the motorhome! Now, many of you may be unfamiliar with awnings for RV's, but let me assure you - on top of the roof is decidedly not where they belong. The route from bowling to RV Park was not only rainy and blowy, but full of Christmas shoppers trying to get everything done on their lunch hour. Fortunately, I was the one behind the wheel because Don was too busy laying a litter of kitties in the passenger seat. Can't say as I blame him.
As we pulled up to our spot, we could see that the manager did not exaggerate. There it was, plastered on the roof top - and covering the brand new HD antenna. My husband scrambled up the ladder onto the roof, through the rain and the wind and my admonitions to be careful. Threaten a man's electronics, and he is a most valiant and brave knight. Once he got up there, he lifted this extremely heavy swath of wet vinyl and tossed it to the side - much in the same way a petite mother of two can flip over an SUV to save her children. And Don saved the antenna. So this wet, half-ton piece of striped vinyl came over the side, carrying with it - no, not my husband - but the remains of what used to be the frame for the awning. It slapped onto the side of the RV...right over the door. hmmmm... This was a problem. There is a driver's side door, but it Don deemed it too high up for me to get in without risking several broken bones. He climbed up and in, unlocked the door from the inside, then climbed back dow, came over to the awning that was glued to the side of the coach, and pulled it out as far as he could so I could open the door as far as possible. That was about 10-12 inches. My next move was to squeeze in all of me through this opening. Please, as you imagine this....be kind. SO, I was in. Eventually. Keep in mind all of this was happening in a storm where the rain was essentially coming sideways.
After getting wet clothes off and dry clothes on, Don began the process of trying to find someone to repair the awning for less than three body parts and six internal organs. It also occurred to us that we had laundry over at Kyle and Kristin's, which meant that I had to get back out. Out climbed my hubby, and out squoze me as he held out the wet awning in the still pouring rain. A couple hours later, I returned with the laundry - but the rain had not let up one bit, so the clean clothes were essentially going to be held hostage in the trunk of the car until it let up. Too bad we didn't know that it would be three more days until that happened...
This blog is already too long and there is a beach lounge with my name on it. oh, I'm sorry...did I say that - write that, out loud...?!?! Now....I wonder if I have enough sunscreen....??
So, let's move to this past Christmas visit to the mainland, and further evidence that Don and I are the modern day Laurel and Hardy of the travel set.
After last Christmas' lengthy fiasco (with lots of fun and blessings throughout), we made some different choices. Last spring, we moved our motorhome down from Portland to a storage area near Kyle and Kristin's place in Temecula. Pechanga (site of the oh-so-traditional Family Christmas dinner last Christmas) has a beautiful RV park, so that would be our home base. The other thing we opted to do was scoot over there earlier and not stay as long. Well...it was only about five days shorter, but, whatever.
We didn't take the red-eye, but we still arrived pretty late in the evening. Do not ask me what I was thinking when we left warm, lovely Maui, but I was wearing slippers (flipflops) and crop pants. I think I had a sweatshirt or light jacket or something, but it was, to say the least, insufficient. It was about 9:30 by the time we were getting our rental car, but the office was warm and comfy. Unfortunately, there is no valet at car rentals, so we were just told the number of the stall where our car was. We got to our cars designated space, and found there was nothing there but...space. My teeth are chattering by then, and the office building is closed, but Don found someone to go get our car - all the while I stood there guarding our bags, teeth chattering, knees knocking, toes frozen - until our car finally arrived.
The drive from the LAX area to Temecula is more or less a 90-minute drive. Our tummies were still on Maui time, and that fruit and cheese tray on the airplane was a distant memory, so food was very much on our mind. I won't bore you with the gory details, but we were making time on freeways and my husband thought that a Denny's would simply announce itself a mile or so before the appropriate exit. I, however, thought we should, perhaps, look at surface streets, maybe, where there are RESTAURANTS!!! Sooooo....maybe I was just a little hungry and tired and cold and cranky - but that doesn't mean I wasn't right. We arrived in Temecula, still starving, and Don took an exit that had a Jack-in-the-Box. I was desperate at this point, so I was begging him to turn around and go back to Jack. He finally agreed to do a u-turn at the next intersection - which was just across the freeway from our hotel. And thar she blew!! Denny's. By that time, it was about in the low forties, high thirties and the rattling of teeth sounded like castanets played by a flamenco dancer jacked up on half-a-dozen triple espressos as we walked to the front door - but we had warm food and then a warm bed in a warm hotel.
The next day we began our vacation in earnest - seeing grandbabies (and their parents), picked out a Christmas tree, decorating said tree, and just general hanging around. We also picked up the motorhome from storage, but since it was getting a new HD antenna the next day, Don just parked it out front of the hotel. I was still doing a little Christmas shopping, so he decided to relax and have some yummy popcorn. Unfortunately, Don failed to notice that the bag was a mini bag and he set the time for the regular sized bag. By the time I got there, he was opening up all windows in the RV. He pointed to a still smoldering, charred, mini-sized bag of what used to be popcorn resting in the shrubs. I would venture to say that he was making the same panicked sounds he had made almost one year before. And I just cracked up...again. In a bit of a deja vu moment, we had a stench to clear and a blackened microwave to clean. We opened up windows, sprayed febreze, washed out the microwave, and left for the kids' house - Don still muttering, me still laughing...quitely.
The next few days were pretty much bliss. We have now become THOSE people - the grandparenty-types who swoop in and do everything fun! Amber spent the night in the RV with Grammy and Grampy on the eve of our first big adventure: Sea World and ...THE DENTIST!!! Wooo-hoo!! Do we know how to spoil our grandchildren, or what?!!? This first time having a little slumber party with our granddaughter was something we'd been looking forward to since....ummmm...forever. Her mom assured me that Amber loved showers, so I got it nice and warmed up, then plopped my little nakey grandbaby in. Have you seen Jurassic park?? You know the velociraptors that have that ear-piecing shriek as they hunt!?!? Well, that is approximately the sound that emanated from my sweet granddaughter's mouth as the shower streams hit her. After fearing for a moment that I had done something horrible cruel to this child, I realized that she probably liked the handheld shower. Handed her the shower. Crisis ended. We got our girl snuggled in her jammies, read a couple stories, and had to tell her to put her head on the pillow only 2,619 times. In other words, the evening was perfect.
Since it was time for a dental check-up for Don and me, we fit that in on our way to Sea World. This is the same dentist we have had since before Amber's daddy was born, so the dentist and his were really tickled to meet Kyle's progeny. Of course, that meant that Amber needed careful watching while one or the other of us was in the big chair. Grampy went first, so Amber and I sat quietly and read in the waiting room, going in a couple of times to see how Grampy was doing in the big chair (Grampy was verrrry brave!) Then came Grammy's turn for her check-up. As I'm all laid out with the dentist and/or his assistant spelunking in my mouth, I hear our little granddaughter racing up and down the hallways, peering in at me once in a while. AH, well.
Sea World with Amber was a blast! Since it was before the schools were out on break, we pretty much had the run of the place. Amber could go on rides pretty much at will, and as many times in a row as she pleased. This did not work out so well a few weeks later when returned, along with half of San Diego as well as both teams - with their families, boosters and marching bands - that were playing at the Holiday Bowl. But I'm getting ahead of myself. When we left Sea World that afternoon, we had a tired little girl who proclaimed that her favorite thing was the rollercoaster. Of course, she hadn't actually gone on said rollercoaster, but I guess that wasn't an issue since I hadn't been specific enough in my query. A couple of days after that, we did the whole Disneyland trip, with Uncle John coming along. Grampy Don, ever the trouper, drove the motorhome so the gang was all together. Amber finally did get to go on a rollercoaster, but it was just the one in Toon Town. This child is fearless - but not soundless. Grampy, Uncle John, little Josh, and I were hanging out a good couple hundred feet away. Remember that raptor screech I described two paragraphs above?!!? Yeeeeah....that screech. We could hear that over all the crowds and music and rides - but this was a screech and squeal and scream of absolute excitement. Although, I'm not sure that the people on the ride whose ear drums were bleeding appreciated the difference...
A couple of days after Dizzyland, Don and I flew over to Phoenix to take care of some business for his clients/friends, as well as see his family. Somewhere between the Happiest Place on Earth and our first night in our friends' guest bedroom, a bug found its way to Don's head. It found mine the next night. Are you kidding!?!? By the time we got back to Temecula, we were both moderately miserable - but not enough to get in our way of a good time.
While we were gone, the first of what would turn into several days of rain hit, and the Monday after we got back, it was still miserable and mushy. We were going bowling with the K-Dalts, and when we left the motorhome the rain was no more than an annoying drizzle with nary a breath of wind. That changed. We knew that when Don got a call as we were changing into our regular shoes (sadly returning the high-stylin' bowling shoes). The manager of the RV park calling him to say that our awning was now ON TOP of the motorhome! Now, many of you may be unfamiliar with awnings for RV's, but let me assure you - on top of the roof is decidedly not where they belong. The route from bowling to RV Park was not only rainy and blowy, but full of Christmas shoppers trying to get everything done on their lunch hour. Fortunately, I was the one behind the wheel because Don was too busy laying a litter of kitties in the passenger seat. Can't say as I blame him.
As we pulled up to our spot, we could see that the manager did not exaggerate. There it was, plastered on the roof top - and covering the brand new HD antenna. My husband scrambled up the ladder onto the roof, through the rain and the wind and my admonitions to be careful. Threaten a man's electronics, and he is a most valiant and brave knight. Once he got up there, he lifted this extremely heavy swath of wet vinyl and tossed it to the side - much in the same way a petite mother of two can flip over an SUV to save her children. And Don saved the antenna. So this wet, half-ton piece of striped vinyl came over the side, carrying with it - no, not my husband - but the remains of what used to be the frame for the awning. It slapped onto the side of the RV...right over the door. hmmmm... This was a problem. There is a driver's side door, but it Don deemed it too high up for me to get in without risking several broken bones. He climbed up and in, unlocked the door from the inside, then climbed back dow, came over to the awning that was glued to the side of the coach, and pulled it out as far as he could so I could open the door as far as possible. That was about 10-12 inches. My next move was to squeeze in all of me through this opening. Please, as you imagine this....be kind. SO, I was in. Eventually. Keep in mind all of this was happening in a storm where the rain was essentially coming sideways.
After getting wet clothes off and dry clothes on, Don began the process of trying to find someone to repair the awning for less than three body parts and six internal organs. It also occurred to us that we had laundry over at Kyle and Kristin's, which meant that I had to get back out. Out climbed my hubby, and out squoze me as he held out the wet awning in the still pouring rain. A couple hours later, I returned with the laundry - but the rain had not let up one bit, so the clean clothes were essentially going to be held hostage in the trunk of the car until it let up. Too bad we didn't know that it would be three more days until that happened...
This blog is already too long and there is a beach lounge with my name on it. oh, I'm sorry...did I say that - write that, out loud...?!?! Now....I wonder if I have enough sunscreen....??
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
"Winter" (snicker!), Part I
Sorry to be so smug, but it's January and I am preparing to go to the beach, slathered up in sunscreen, so can you blame me!??! But we did visit some winter. Well, at least it sure felt like winter to us.
I should start with a brief (or not) look back at Christmas 2009 - not to torture the reader, but simply because it only supports my theory that we are the Griswold family (of "Vacation" notoriety) in real life. We took the red-eye from Maui on December 20, 2009. It was clear and beautiful....and I froze immediately. Within 48 hours, I was sick. We were going to be staying at a friend's condo in SD while they were out of the country. Let me rephrase....these lovely people OFFERED their condo to us while they were out of the country. Their place was gorgeous - 1/2 block of of Mission bay, with a bay and ocean view - but we froze even more. These good people are German, and very much minimalists. We are American, and pretty much, maximalists. So, with me sick, and Christmas being in a couple days, and my second grandchild due any minute, we headed to the local doc-in-the-box. I was delighted and relieved to see a woman doctor about my age. Didn't have to explain a thing. She popped me full of antibiotics and I was good to go. But I was still freezing. There was no heat in the place, except for a heater that didn't work very well, so we wandered the house in just about every article of clothing we had.
By Christmas Eve, I was feeling well enough to go to church at The Rock with Kyle, Kristin, Amber, & Jpsh-to-be, then to Kristin's family for a little celebrating and dinner. The plan was for us to go back to the condo for a little bit, after the dinner, so we could get some things together for a couple of days up in Temecula, and pick up Greg on the way. Everything was going smoothly, but by the time we hit the refrigerated condo again, I was feeling less than nifty. My beloved decided to make me a comforting, decongesting cup of Refresh tea. I took off for the bedroom downstairs while he worked on the tea. About ten minutes later, I hear Don making sounds of panic and horror, accompanied by banging and crashing and more unintelligible speech. Seems he had not noticed that our friends' tea kettle was of the electric variety...and had set the rubber-bottomed kettle on the range...on high, of course. I won't bore you with details, but suffice to say we spent a while trying to clear smoke and stench (which meant opening the doors and windows, making it even colder) and clean off the top layers of soot on the cabinets. And we still had to grab Greg and make the hour long journey north. I had to admit, I was kind of chuckling while Don was still horrified. Actually, I was laughing my head off. The damage wasn't that great (we did replace not only the tea kettle but the destroyed burner, and left everything clean as a whistle) and it was HILARIOUS!! Don did not agree.
We left to grab our #2 son, and after we did, we made the decision to surprise the Young Daltons with a Christmas tree (they had moved into their home only a couple of weeks earlier and had focussed on getting moved in before the baby came - a tree didn't even make the short list). We found a tree lot still opened at 9:00 on Christmas Eve!! The only problem was we had a compact car, our two small bags, Greg's duffle, and some Christmas gifts in the trunk, and Greg and his guitar in the back seat. Five minutes later, we were on I-15 north, with Greg, his guitar, and a four-foot Christmas tree in the back seat. By the time we reached Chez K Dalton, it was fairly late and Kristin had gone to bed. Kyle looked at his parents and brother like they were nuts. Well...they are. But we still had a tree to decorate!! Needless to say, the decorations were pretty sparse, but Amber, the-almost-two-year-old would not know the difference.
Christmas morning brought Uncle John to the happy home, and the day's festivizing began. Of course, Amber was delighted with the tiny, half-naked tree. Kristin was just kind of stunned. She was also quite tired of being pregnant. But that was not the only issue of the day: the Chargers were playing Tennessee, K&K didn't have NFL network and EVERYTHING was closed that normally would carry the game. Everything except Pechanga Casino. So, our traditional dinner was at the sports bar & grill inside of Pechanga. There we were, grandparents, a tot, a preggo and her husband, and the uncles. Not quite a Walton Family Christmas, but we were together, having a blast and feeling so blest.
The next few days were an eventful blur. Greg's gift to the Dalton men was...(drum roll).... TATTOOS!! Yes, indeed. No beer stein or sleeve of golf balls from this gift-giver, no sir-ee-bob. Greg had actually researched the Dalton Coat of Arms, gave a small talk about it on Christmas morning (like a true future teacher), and the guys all got their arms tagged- uh, tattooed, the day after Christmas. They wanted Dad to get one, too, but Dad being a bit more advanced in years opted out. I concurred. A couple days later, we celebrated John's birthday up in Temecula. It was a day after his actual birthday - and more importantly, the day after Kristin's due date. SInce she was wildly uncomfortable and they had a little one, we opted for the northward trek again. After returning late that night to the condo/cooler, we flopped into bed....only to be awakened by a text telling us to boogie-oogie to the hospital! Kristin was giving birth in the same hospital in SD in which she had Amber, so we were to meet them, and Grampy would do an about face in their car, taking Amber back home. A few hours later, Joshua Blake Dalton finally arrived! My bug was long gone, so I again had the indescribable blessing and joy to be there. And my precious, beautiful daughter-in-law was amazing! Don had Grampy duty, of course, but he got to hear his son tell him it was a boy, and he heard his grandson's healthy cries. I'm getting misty....
SO, baby arrived and we were still trucking back and forth - with a side trip to Disneyland, a visit with friends in Calabasas, Ca, and family in Vegas - then Don got sick. Nifty. We were still freezing, and now Don was going to sleep upstairs from me, on a very comfortable white sofa. The problem was, we needed an extra blanket. My mom had one - problem solved. Except that it was a vellux wannabe from the Nixon era. And it was red. And it fell apart. No, that's not true. It completely DISINTEGRATED!!! So, I'm downstairs the next morning, hearing my husband make more of those panicked, unintelligible sounds - this time banging madly on the white sofa which now looked like it had some kind of rash. Don did the smart thing and got out our friends' canister vac - which promptly belched out an enormous cloud of dust. A couple of hours later, having found a broom and borrowed a vacuum, the red dandruff was gone.
We had stayed on the mainland for a month and we could not wait to get back home to our Maui! We actually managed to do no more damage for the remainder of the trip, and left the condo looking as clean as when we came - with the addition of a new electric kettle, new burners and spill pans, and a new blanket. But, ummm...our friends kinda haven't spoken to us, since... Understandable
I should start with a brief (or not) look back at Christmas 2009 - not to torture the reader, but simply because it only supports my theory that we are the Griswold family (of "Vacation" notoriety) in real life. We took the red-eye from Maui on December 20, 2009. It was clear and beautiful....and I froze immediately. Within 48 hours, I was sick. We were going to be staying at a friend's condo in SD while they were out of the country. Let me rephrase....these lovely people OFFERED their condo to us while they were out of the country. Their place was gorgeous - 1/2 block of of Mission bay, with a bay and ocean view - but we froze even more. These good people are German, and very much minimalists. We are American, and pretty much, maximalists. So, with me sick, and Christmas being in a couple days, and my second grandchild due any minute, we headed to the local doc-in-the-box. I was delighted and relieved to see a woman doctor about my age. Didn't have to explain a thing. She popped me full of antibiotics and I was good to go. But I was still freezing. There was no heat in the place, except for a heater that didn't work very well, so we wandered the house in just about every article of clothing we had.
By Christmas Eve, I was feeling well enough to go to church at The Rock with Kyle, Kristin, Amber, & Jpsh-to-be, then to Kristin's family for a little celebrating and dinner. The plan was for us to go back to the condo for a little bit, after the dinner, so we could get some things together for a couple of days up in Temecula, and pick up Greg on the way. Everything was going smoothly, but by the time we hit the refrigerated condo again, I was feeling less than nifty. My beloved decided to make me a comforting, decongesting cup of Refresh tea. I took off for the bedroom downstairs while he worked on the tea. About ten minutes later, I hear Don making sounds of panic and horror, accompanied by banging and crashing and more unintelligible speech. Seems he had not noticed that our friends' tea kettle was of the electric variety...and had set the rubber-bottomed kettle on the range...on high, of course. I won't bore you with details, but suffice to say we spent a while trying to clear smoke and stench (which meant opening the doors and windows, making it even colder) and clean off the top layers of soot on the cabinets. And we still had to grab Greg and make the hour long journey north. I had to admit, I was kind of chuckling while Don was still horrified. Actually, I was laughing my head off. The damage wasn't that great (we did replace not only the tea kettle but the destroyed burner, and left everything clean as a whistle) and it was HILARIOUS!! Don did not agree.
We left to grab our #2 son, and after we did, we made the decision to surprise the Young Daltons with a Christmas tree (they had moved into their home only a couple of weeks earlier and had focussed on getting moved in before the baby came - a tree didn't even make the short list). We found a tree lot still opened at 9:00 on Christmas Eve!! The only problem was we had a compact car, our two small bags, Greg's duffle, and some Christmas gifts in the trunk, and Greg and his guitar in the back seat. Five minutes later, we were on I-15 north, with Greg, his guitar, and a four-foot Christmas tree in the back seat. By the time we reached Chez K Dalton, it was fairly late and Kristin had gone to bed. Kyle looked at his parents and brother like they were nuts. Well...they are. But we still had a tree to decorate!! Needless to say, the decorations were pretty sparse, but Amber, the-almost-two-year-old would not know the difference.
Christmas morning brought Uncle John to the happy home, and the day's festivizing began. Of course, Amber was delighted with the tiny, half-naked tree. Kristin was just kind of stunned. She was also quite tired of being pregnant. But that was not the only issue of the day: the Chargers were playing Tennessee, K&K didn't have NFL network and EVERYTHING was closed that normally would carry the game. Everything except Pechanga Casino. So, our traditional dinner was at the sports bar & grill inside of Pechanga. There we were, grandparents, a tot, a preggo and her husband, and the uncles. Not quite a Walton Family Christmas, but we were together, having a blast and feeling so blest.
The next few days were an eventful blur. Greg's gift to the Dalton men was...(drum roll).... TATTOOS!! Yes, indeed. No beer stein or sleeve of golf balls from this gift-giver, no sir-ee-bob. Greg had actually researched the Dalton Coat of Arms, gave a small talk about it on Christmas morning (like a true future teacher), and the guys all got their arms tagged- uh, tattooed, the day after Christmas. They wanted Dad to get one, too, but Dad being a bit more advanced in years opted out. I concurred. A couple days later, we celebrated John's birthday up in Temecula. It was a day after his actual birthday - and more importantly, the day after Kristin's due date. SInce she was wildly uncomfortable and they had a little one, we opted for the northward trek again. After returning late that night to the condo/cooler, we flopped into bed....only to be awakened by a text telling us to boogie-oogie to the hospital! Kristin was giving birth in the same hospital in SD in which she had Amber, so we were to meet them, and Grampy would do an about face in their car, taking Amber back home. A few hours later, Joshua Blake Dalton finally arrived! My bug was long gone, so I again had the indescribable blessing and joy to be there. And my precious, beautiful daughter-in-law was amazing! Don had Grampy duty, of course, but he got to hear his son tell him it was a boy, and he heard his grandson's healthy cries. I'm getting misty....
SO, baby arrived and we were still trucking back and forth - with a side trip to Disneyland, a visit with friends in Calabasas, Ca, and family in Vegas - then Don got sick. Nifty. We were still freezing, and now Don was going to sleep upstairs from me, on a very comfortable white sofa. The problem was, we needed an extra blanket. My mom had one - problem solved. Except that it was a vellux wannabe from the Nixon era. And it was red. And it fell apart. No, that's not true. It completely DISINTEGRATED!!! So, I'm downstairs the next morning, hearing my husband make more of those panicked, unintelligible sounds - this time banging madly on the white sofa which now looked like it had some kind of rash. Don did the smart thing and got out our friends' canister vac - which promptly belched out an enormous cloud of dust. A couple of hours later, having found a broom and borrowed a vacuum, the red dandruff was gone.
We had stayed on the mainland for a month and we could not wait to get back home to our Maui! We actually managed to do no more damage for the remainder of the trip, and left the condo looking as clean as when we came - with the addition of a new electric kettle, new burners and spill pans, and a new blanket. But, ummm...our friends kinda haven't spoken to us, since... Understandable
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