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The move is complete! We are now residents of One Pearl Place. It's modeled after a Tuscan village.  We are on the third floor and have a VIEW of the Santa Cruz Mountains over the freeway.  The weather has been sort of stormy lately and it's beautiful to watch the clouds rolling over Mt. Uhmanum and see the rain as it approaches the city through the big windows in our living room.  We also have a loft and more windows. It's a bright and beautiful location.

We had wonderful helpers for the move, young friends who did the heavy lifting and hauling for us on Saturday. The whole move took EIGHT DAYS from start to finish.  I never want to move again. 

This place is a little bit of magic.  Neighbors smile and say hello. There is a brunch on the first Sunday of the month in the lovely club room.  Really outstanding food. And an opportunity to meet other folks. We are blessed. I look forward to getting everything arranged and having friends over to share this lovely space.

All's well that ends well

Yesterday's credit fiasco has been resolved.  The nice people at Chase were happy to hear that my charges were acceptable.  They will honor both the RCI hotel reservation charge and the prescription I charged last night.  The card is still dead, but I'll get a new one in a few days. Meanwhile, RCI confirmed that the charge was righteous for the extra night.  Monday I'll see how I make out with the hotel itself and see if I can turn two separate rooms into one for the whole stay. 

We will survive...if I can just keep the questions from my roommate at a minimum so I don't have to strangle him. He is such an interogater. Should have joined the FBI or something.

The perils of travel in the good old USA

So I printed out my Chase statement tonight because there was a charge I didn't recognize.  Since my corporate card was recently hacked, I called immediately, found out the cryptic description was a phone charge and since I didn't recognize the name or the location - Nebraska! - I shut down the card.  Before I got off the phone the card guy gave me the vendor phone number.  I called it and to my chagrin discovered that it was related to the hotel reservation I made this week (I forgot I had done that on the phone).  Had the acronym RCI appeared on the statement, I would have called them and asked them what the charge was all about.  But no, the name was GPN T-FEE 877-YOURGPN.  What was I supposed to think? 

Now I get to call the hotel again and while trying to tie my new reservation to the original one, find out why no one mentioned this mysterious charge to me while I was on the phone making the reservation.  Or why this charge did not appear on my email confirmation?  Grrrr.  I am so disgusted.  I hope we survive this vacation.

4th of July 2009

It's been a while since I've been moved to say anything...but yesterday, I found my watch which had been missing since last month.  It showed up when I was picking up trash in the path near our plot in the Discovery Community Garden in San Jose, CA.

My daughter told her dad he needed a hobby and quickly decided that gardening was a good hobby and found the connection for him.  He visited the garden and the rest is now history. We have corn, tomatoes, bell pepper, jalapeno pepper, basil, watermelon and a volunteer vine (maybe squash).  all of this is being recorded and mounted on flickr.  I may some day even be able to post a picture or two here in the journal.

The fireworks display did not happen in San Jose this year.  The economy is pretty bad here.  So much has been going on in the world this last year it blows me away.  I am now planning to move to a new home come the end of my current lease.  I will keep my roommate. I will get rid of a lot of old, scruffy furniture. It will be wonderful to have some space again.

What Kind of Boots Are You?

You Are Rain Boots
You are a very playful and fun loving person. Nothing can slow you down.
You are dreamy, and you can find the romance in anything. The littlest things make you smile.

You are outgoing and friendly. You always find yourself talking to strangers.
You are optimistic about the world. Even when it's raining out, the sun is shining in your heart.

This and that...

So now Ike has done his worst, trains are crashing head on in California, the election draws near and the choices have never been more "interesting" than this year. On the one hand, a black American is running for President; on the other hand, an unknown female is running for vice president with the white haired dude who is running for President and could kick the bucket in office due to his advanced age.

The scenes of Galveston are incredible...I remember Galveston in better days.  And Houston is a mess too.  We haven't seen much about Beaumont, but Port Arthur was hit hard because the storm veared slightly to the north before it hit and that put port arthur in the right side of the hurricane where the storm surge is worst.  Don't know anything about George's father and his wife, Willy.  It took weeks after Rita before we were able to talk to them.

The train wreck:  they still don't really know what happened.

The election:  I'm concerned because I don't think enough Americans are serious enough about what is going on and will vote for McCain because Sarah Palin is a good looking woman, knows how to shoot a gun and doesn't practice abortion.


REMEMBERING:  Hamburgers, hot dogs, chili, ketchup, mustard, soda & beer with chocolate covered vanilla ice cream bars for dessert.  Yes, that's the basic fourth menu and my fellow Americans grilling up a storm in their back yard with the big trees behind and blue skies and cloudy skies and blue skies with puffy little clouds all above.  Later we drove back and took a right at 84...I've never traveled over that bridge before and I've lived here since 1965 so I figured it was high time, before the toll gets too  high ($4 now). Then home to watch the tv presentation of the fireworks from the capital of the USA while sitting in the recliner with my furry friend, Chibi, sleeping on my tummy.


yellow light...

It's mid-day and the light from outside is dim although the sun is out.  The color of the light is yellow...sort of like something that is aged.  My garden is changing rapidly too. The petunias have a lot of brown leaves...which were not there last weekend.  We've harvested some cherry tomatos this week. They were small but tasty.  But another of the violets is biting the dust and the basil is a bit droopy.  I'm sure the air isn't making them very happy either.  We need some of the flood water from the mid-west.



California has been burning for about a month now I think.  It's not as hot as it was last weekend, but still hot...and a bit muggy too. Humidity is up. The skies are always brown tinged...blue-brown at noon...brown-gold going home from work on the train...can't see the east or the west hills...and we were labeled "moderately unhealthy" on the morning news. Glad I don't live in the really unhealthy areas, like North Bay.

But in spite of the lousy air,  three staff  members went  on a  pre-planned event: a lunch time visit to The Farmer's Market in San Pedro Square. We didn't want to have to breathe any more of bad air than necessary, so we used our VTA Transit Passes and jumped on the first bus that came by.  We got to 1st and Santa Clara Streets on a 73, then jumped on a 22 and road it to Market Street and there we were...a half block from the Market.  It was fun...lots of free samples of delicious fruit and other edibles.

Then we split up and the other Admin and I jumped on a 65 on Santa Clara Street, which took us to 2nd Street and then we walked back to 1st, caught the 522 Express to 7th Street, walked one block back to San Fernando Street and our office and out of the bad air.  We brought back fresh produce too and some very nice Beeswax hand balm.

All in all a very pleasant adventure.  And we even had a staff meeting with beer and cheese and crackers before we went home. The boss returns on Monday.  Cheers!


Postscript to this morning's gathering

While we were having coffee outside the Mission after our celebration this morning, a man walking by announced "do you know you have Sikhs inside your church rearranging things and wearing turbans?"  Everybody looked at him like he was mentally unbalanced.  We answered variously: "thank you", "so what?" "and your point is?" 

The Mission was being set up for a wedding (all Santa Clara alums get the perk that they can get married in the big church...they don't have to be Catholic...just alums).  The objectionable "Sikhs" were young, wearing traditional head coverings appropriate to their faith, and helping the regular crew set up for the wedding to follow.  I hollered out to  him as he continued down the wisteria covered pathway "we are an inclusive church - everyone is welcome."  And the afterthought to friends,  "even you I guess."

I wonder if he came to worship?  Maybe the African priest who gave the homily about speaking out and letting your disapproval be known when you witness something you think is wrong inspired him to speak up about what he thought was disrespectful.