A Tale with no point!

I really didn't like living in California. When I was a new bride many moons ago,  we were married in early May.  My husband and I moved to California right after my year's teaching ended.

We drove there in my 1972 blue Impala with no air conditioner. He was in the Navy, and I found little to do all day in Sleepy Hollow Apartments in the heart of Chula Vista. I had a few friends to take me to the beach or sit with at the pool, but I was really out of my comfort zone with life styles,  morals, and customs. A Midwestern Country Mouse with culture shock meets the late 70's Beach vibes... you can only imagine! 

I cleaned up a stack of letters from that two months of my life.  My mother had saved THESE EPISTLES, all written in cheerful, boring, nonsense. I couldn't believe what a horrible letter writer I was... no chatter about California or my neighbors.  Mostly a count of the number of walks to Big Bear Supermarket and a recap of things I'd eaten that weren't on the Cheryl Tiegs diet.. I was rather ashamed I'd wasted so many stamps!

I guess my point (Hallelujah! She has a point! ) is that surface living is a sham comparable to a double life.  I pitched all those letters except one.  They all sounded the same anyway.  I didn't tell my parents how unhappy and incompatible I was with my new man... I never told them that.  We were married 16 years, but even though there was love, there was no chance we could survive together.  I think he's happy now,  and so am I--- finally. 

I also ran across this scruffy little clothespin doll I made there.  I made 16 of them for favors that Mom gave out at her Doll Club in 1979. I guess I can blame my California dreaming on Raggedy Ann here... I recall that I painted... and glued ...and cooked... and cleaned.  Then I'd look at the clock and discover it was barely 9 o'clock! I can say I had t-t-t-ooo much time on my hands... lol. 

I don't think I had an accurate slice of life so I won't say anything more that's negative about another state... I'm just a homebody. That's pretty obvious to all my friends who quite frankly are probably getting sick of my life style and isolation.  You know the movie,  The Perfect Storm? That's the way the aging, the arthritis, and the Pandemic have converged in my life.  Add in a son who is frankly miserable with health issues... oh, boo hoo..lol.. I guess I did NOT have a point after all! 

I was so sad today to hear about the Amtrack that derailed in a little country town between here and  Kansas City... Passengers were brought to small hospitals including the ones near me. Some rode in school busses; others were life flighted... They had to crawl out of the windows because the train was on its side.  I'm pretty sure most of the travelers from Los Angeles headed to Chicago on Amtrack with the idea they were safer than if they flew... we just never know.  

I was bombarded today with misplaced stuff... it's a mess and frankly a big slap on the tush to look for things that aren't where they are supposed to be!  Then...I had a disconnect argument where I found myself in trouble with my doctor because my pharmacist didn't know my strategies and plans.  My hot water heater quit and I didn't know it until I'd soaked my locks and slapped shampoo on my head in the kitchen sink... brrr! That was one cold, miserable rinse! My son told me I needed a nap.  [That's code for being grumpy and cranky.]

I'll be 68 Wednesday.  Three score and eight... good grief! In the words of Hill Street Blues' Sergeant Phil Esterhaus, "Let's be careful out there. "