California Crazy
I had one of those infamous three day weekends that are expected to follow a weekend on call. It was a crazy weekend, and perhaps normal as well, if crazy is normal, which it sometimes seems to be.
I was on call Thursday night the 6th of September, got one call in the early evening. It was a steer tied to a tractor, which (the steer, not the tractor) threw me around a bit as I passed a tube down its throat. I stopped by the clinic Friday morn to wrap up some loose ends, and was on the road, heading south, by 10 am as planned. I rarely meet my deadlines -- I only met this one because it was a modified deadline, an hour later than the original 9 am start time. He he.
I drove south. The weather was scrumptuous, sunny "blue skies, smilin' on me, nothin' but blue skies, do I see". (By no means should you read more into that quote than meets the eye. There is no implication of romance, I promise.) I was worried about the case I saw the night before, but left a message at the number I thought was the right number, and felt better. It turned out later that the number was no longer correct for the owner of the steer, and I still haven't been able to get a hold of her.
I crossed the California border by car for the first time in over 3 years, marvelled in the grandeur of Mt. Shasta (didn't see any Lemurians -- maybe I wasn't close enough to the mountain), and quickly traversed the earth and entered the sprawling metropolis of Redding, CA. I was only going to stop there to buy food at some unsuspecting store. I pulled off at Cypress Ave, thinking there was a K-mart near-by that we had stopped at a few years ago when I attempted wake-boarding with my cousin Kevin on Whiskeytown Reservoir. (And here I continue with a partially-modified version of my e-mail to Miss JG.) I thought said K-mart was on the east side of the freeway, but the west side looked promising so I went that way.
As I travelled along (not on the Jericho road, and my world didn't seem all wrong, nor super heavy my load since I was on vacation -- were those lyrics really written by Elvis Presley?), I thunk that I would possibly be able to find the civic center, where my Uncle Dave works as an engineering/city planner guy. Now, I knew the civic center was on the west side of the river, but I didn't remember exactly where. I drove along, and saw a suspicious looking roof ahead to my left. And lo and behold, it was the civic center. Heart pounding, and not knowing for certain sure if my uncle still worked there, I approached the building with its fancy fountains and opulent structure. I was standing in the foyer pondering how to go about finding my uncle in the very large building, when this young guy walked by and I told him I thought my uncle worked there or at least used to work there. "When's the last time you talked to your uncle?" said he, amused that I didn't know for sure where he worked. Truth be told, I couldn't remember when I last talked to him! Maybe it was at my other uncle's wedding a year ago. Hmm -- too long, really. The young guy thought "Dave Marundee" sounded familiar, and he directed me to an office close on the foyer -- to which I went and at which I requested to see my uncle who very shortly appeared. Great to see him and we had a grand time talking.
Needless to say (especially since you didn't even know I was going there) I didn't make it to my grandma's retirement community in time to eat supper with her and my Uncle Mike/Aunt Kathy. But I got to chat with Grandma and then go out to eat with my uncle and aunt at an interesting Chinese place with a goldfish pond inside. This thing of meeting with my uncles and aunts by myself, no other family around, is a different but very positive thing. It gives me a chance to actually get to know them unlike other family get togethers when other people dominate the discussion. I had a great time with Mike and Kathy.
I stayed in my grandma's condo which she no longer inhabits. Another weird thing... staying in my grandma's condo without her there, sleeping in her old bed, raiding her fridge. (Including late-night enjoyment of old ice cream (some fancy chocolate ice cream cone variety) with the 3/4 inch layer of frost sprouting out of it which I partook of Friday night. It was partially eaten and had probably been open at least since May.) Sunday I took my grandma on a drive toward Stinson Beach, singing along with a couple musicals on the way. We also wandered around in Michael's (craft store) to look for pink ribbon for the sweater I was crochetting for my new cousin Natalee. I had never taken my grandma anywhere before -- it's an interesting flip-flop of roles. We had a good time.
Saturday night my Uncle Mike and I had a grand time cleaning out the condo kitchen, joking in Varney fashion, etc.
Sunday I went to see my Uncle Paul and Aunt Amy in Watsonville. This was a very crazy thing to do, you see, because I had to be back to work on Monday and Watsonville is even farther from Oregon than San Rafael. And it was 1:40 pm before I even left San Rafael. But I really wanted to see my cousin (I keep wanting to call her my niece -- she's 23 years younger than I and therefore feels like she should be a niece and not a cousin.) and I'd only seen my Aunt Amy at her wedding. My cousin turns out to be a rather jolly child with a great giggle, good temperament, and intelligent ability to focus.
I drove back home Sunday night, arriving Monday morning around 3:15 am. I had numerous occasions when my car ventured into lanes it was not primarily travelling in, and when my brain was really not very present. But all was well that ended well.
I was on call Thursday night the 6th of September, got one call in the early evening. It was a steer tied to a tractor, which (the steer, not the tractor) threw me around a bit as I passed a tube down its throat. I stopped by the clinic Friday morn to wrap up some loose ends, and was on the road, heading south, by 10 am as planned. I rarely meet my deadlines -- I only met this one because it was a modified deadline, an hour later than the original 9 am start time. He he.
I drove south. The weather was scrumptuous, sunny "blue skies, smilin' on me, nothin' but blue skies, do I see". (By no means should you read more into that quote than meets the eye. There is no implication of romance, I promise.) I was worried about the case I saw the night before, but left a message at the number I thought was the right number, and felt better. It turned out later that the number was no longer correct for the owner of the steer, and I still haven't been able to get a hold of her.
I crossed the California border by car for the first time in over 3 years, marvelled in the grandeur of Mt. Shasta (didn't see any Lemurians -- maybe I wasn't close enough to the mountain), and quickly traversed the earth and entered the sprawling metropolis of Redding, CA. I was only going to stop there to buy food at some unsuspecting store. I pulled off at Cypress Ave, thinking there was a K-mart near-by that we had stopped at a few years ago when I attempted wake-boarding with my cousin Kevin on Whiskeytown Reservoir. (And here I continue with a partially-modified version of my e-mail to Miss JG.) I thought said K-mart was on the east side of the freeway, but the west side looked promising so I went that way.
As I travelled along (not on the Jericho road, and my world didn't seem all wrong, nor super heavy my load since I was on vacation -- were those lyrics really written by Elvis Presley?), I thunk that I would possibly be able to find the civic center, where my Uncle Dave works as an engineering/city planner guy. Now, I knew the civic center was on the west side of the river, but I didn't remember exactly where. I drove along, and saw a suspicious looking roof ahead to my left. And lo and behold, it was the civic center. Heart pounding, and not knowing for certain sure if my uncle still worked there, I approached the building with its fancy fountains and opulent structure. I was standing in the foyer pondering how to go about finding my uncle in the very large building, when this young guy walked by and I told him I thought my uncle worked there or at least used to work there. "When's the last time you talked to your uncle?" said he, amused that I didn't know for sure where he worked. Truth be told, I couldn't remember when I last talked to him! Maybe it was at my other uncle's wedding a year ago. Hmm -- too long, really. The young guy thought "Dave Marundee" sounded familiar, and he directed me to an office close on the foyer -- to which I went and at which I requested to see my uncle who very shortly appeared. Great to see him and we had a grand time talking.
Needless to say (especially since you didn't even know I was going there) I didn't make it to my grandma's retirement community in time to eat supper with her and my Uncle Mike/Aunt Kathy. But I got to chat with Grandma and then go out to eat with my uncle and aunt at an interesting Chinese place with a goldfish pond inside. This thing of meeting with my uncles and aunts by myself, no other family around, is a different but very positive thing. It gives me a chance to actually get to know them unlike other family get togethers when other people dominate the discussion. I had a great time with Mike and Kathy.
I stayed in my grandma's condo which she no longer inhabits. Another weird thing... staying in my grandma's condo without her there, sleeping in her old bed, raiding her fridge. (Including late-night enjoyment of old ice cream (some fancy chocolate ice cream cone variety) with the 3/4 inch layer of frost sprouting out of it which I partook of Friday night. It was partially eaten and had probably been open at least since May.) Sunday I took my grandma on a drive toward Stinson Beach, singing along with a couple musicals on the way. We also wandered around in Michael's (craft store) to look for pink ribbon for the sweater I was crochetting for my new cousin Natalee. I had never taken my grandma anywhere before -- it's an interesting flip-flop of roles. We had a good time.
Saturday night my Uncle Mike and I had a grand time cleaning out the condo kitchen, joking in Varney fashion, etc.
Sunday I went to see my Uncle Paul and Aunt Amy in Watsonville. This was a very crazy thing to do, you see, because I had to be back to work on Monday and Watsonville is even farther from Oregon than San Rafael. And it was 1:40 pm before I even left San Rafael. But I really wanted to see my cousin (I keep wanting to call her my niece -- she's 23 years younger than I and therefore feels like she should be a niece and not a cousin.) and I'd only seen my Aunt Amy at her wedding. My cousin turns out to be a rather jolly child with a great giggle, good temperament, and intelligent ability to focus.
I drove back home Sunday night, arriving Monday morning around 3:15 am. I had numerous occasions when my car ventured into lanes it was not primarily travelling in, and when my brain was really not very present. But all was well that ended well.
posted by Claire at 15:46
3 Comments:
It sounds like you had a lot of fun. I'm glad you had the opportunity to visit with relatives. It IS a different experience doing it on your own isn't it? I had the opportunity to do that this past spring and it was a lot of fun! Do please be careful about driving when sleep deprived, though!! -Hannah
For the life of me, I can't find the author to the song, "On the Jericho Road" either. I highly doubt it was Elvis Prestley, though he did sing it.
Aha! I found a very short blurb of information about "On the Jericho Road". I paste it for your information below.
"The song was written by Don and Marguerete McCrossman in 1928. The full title of this gospel song is, "As We Travel Along On The Jericho Road." (There is another gospel song called simply "On The Jericho Road," so perhaps the title used for the Elvis recordings is a mistake.)"
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