We were in no hurry this morning and Jon had some work to do, so we stayed at the motel and got our money's worth. I decided to take a walk -- and as I was walking, I realized that this was the first time since I was alone, walking just to walk, with my new knee. It has been many years, but all my long ago tendencies came back to me. First I just wandered around the motel premises and admired all the features: all the signs were painted by hand, like at our farm, there was a little hoop house with lots of plants, and someone likes to garden because there are small trees and bushes that were recently planted. Then I started to look for other places to walk and eventually I found the way over a giant berm that holds back the seasonal lake (more on this later) and I followed a trail along the river that was noisily bouncing and crashing over some big rocks. I didn't understand that I was walking on a lake bed; it seemed like some kind of a beach with lots of sand along the river. I didn't see any scary wildlife. Actually, I didn't see anything alive at all except for birds. I sent a message to Julia because walking alone made me think of her -- as she says, she thinks of it as a holy activity.
As we were heading out, the area to our right looked weird, like an empty lake bed, kind of with a water ring that covered many feet at the base of the mountain that surrounded it. There were signs identifying it as Lake Kaweah but there was no water. Jon looked it up and learned that the lake is meant to control flooding, so they only let it fill up during a couple of flood-y months per year, and the rest of the year they let the water flow through as fast as they can. It creates many acres of farmland below the dam.
The trip south was once again full of farm views. Well, not exactly farms. Just miles of rows of citrus and almonds and grapes and even some olives. The scale is mind-blowing.
We spent a long time in Bakersfield, on an edge where the retail strips go on and on. It was a low income area, with groups of men hanging out in the parking lot, and a security guard greeting every customer on the way into the store. First we went to a Mexican restaurant that had a good story online -- yummy -- and then we went in search of bathing suits in the middle of January. Not that easy. I should have brought mine with me but it was wet on the day we left and I couldn't think why we would need it. But then Jon just made a reservation at a hotel with a pool in a few days and it would be sad not to be able to go in. So we went from one discount department store to the next and finally found something that might fit me at a Target.
On the way to LA we were amazed to go through a long stretch of completely untouched hills and canyons -- we couldn't think of anywhere near us that was so pristine. Then a sign told us it was the Angeles National Forest (not one tree in sight, just hillsides covered with low scrub) and that made some more sense.
Somewhere along the way we also passed a dense collection of oil derricks connected with lots of pipe. The polar opposite.
Earlier in the day we saw the most expansive set of solar panels, as far as the eye could see, and it was impossible to tell how the energy was transmitted. No big ugly pipes. Just miles of flat panels, about five feet off the ground. Bruce told us a few days ago that about 70% of electricity in California is renewable. It must take a lot of wind and sun to power that much of the state.
We arrived at Leila's house at around 6 PM. We haven't seen her in so many years I can't even remember the last time. But we have been to this house at least twice before. Now the kids are grown, Mike died three years ago, and Leila married again just about one month ago. They have only been together in this house for about two weeks so we are here during some very early times for them. As Leila says, they are still working out the routines. Her husband Tim came home after coaching a couple of basketball games -- he teaches at a small Christian school and has a lot of different jobs, including being the athletic director. He had never heard of me and Jon (no surprise) so we all had to start from scratch. Leila made a delicious dinner of baked tortellini, green beans, sourdough bread. Okay, I am ready to start learning about sourdough. I have resisted it until now, but we have been eating some delicious bread and it's time.
The next day Tim left very early for school and we had a slow-starting morning with Leila. We got a full tour of her garden/backyard/projects and plans. She only started working in the yard after Mike died, and in the last three years she has transformed it from an abandoned lawn into a wild and productive garden with artichokes, figs, tangerines, lilikoi, vegetables, kabocha squash. She has plans to replace the garage with an Affordable Dwelling Unit at the same time as she renovates her kitchen, finally. I asked her how she was going to pay for all of this and she said she has saved the money. In the last ten years or so she figured out that she needed to pay attention and worry about the finances (she said "I can make a dollar bill scream for mercy.") and she has done an amazing job of going from no money in the bank to her financial planner telling her she can retire now. Very impressive.
Yesterday when Leila learned that we were going to Scottsdale next, she said, "can I come with you?" We said, sure! And she wasn't kidding because she has a friend who she has been meaning to visit. Jon rearranged the car and the three of us drove east at 9:45. We drove straight through for six hours, talking the whole way. Leila told long stories, complete with reflection and analysis, about her experience getting into the dating world. She made me laugh so hard I could hardly see, and I was driving at the time. We both laughed for about 5 minutes straight. I only laugh like that with girlfriends and sisters.
Leila and Jon navigated together, companionably, and Leila commented that in the old days with a paper map, Mike used to get frustrated with her when she couldn't get oriented fast enough. I said that was just like my parents. Thank goodness for navigation systems in cell phones.
We dropped her at her friend's and went on to Malcolm and Lynn's house, just ten minutes away. Again, we haven't seen them in 9 years, but we have been in touch more recently with Judith's death so it didn't seem like quite so long. We had plenty to talk about at the dinner table. Malcolm is going to retire at the end of this school year. He still loves teaching and he loves the kids but he also wants to spend more time with Lynn while they are both in good shape. We have had a lot of retirement conversations on this trip. Not quite as many long term plan discussions as I had anticipated. People are still in this phase, thinking about the next transition, or enjoying the recent end to their regular employment.
A lot of the houses we are visiting are way too big for the current occupants. But for now it just is easier to be in a big house -- the next moves will require lots of downsizing. That sounds hard. This house that Malcolm and Lynn have, it's a one story house that goes on and on, with a pool outside and so many immaculate rooms full of furniture that probably never get used. Very fancy with ceilings that are about 30 feet high in the livingrooms.
