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We rose a bit later as we had no plans and Deborah’s conference was over. It was also headed into another weekend here in California, my second weekend here, and a new set of folks, all with kids, were appearing to head to Disneyland. It feels like the hotel is rolling over its guests. Deborah reheated her eggs from yesterday, and I had cereal with a sliced banana. I made coffee, of course, with the coffee pods.

We spent the morning together, unhurried, and headed out to the Sherman Library and Garden in Newport Beach. We had little traffic and soon arrived, parked in their (we never see this) free parking, showed our eTicket, and then spent the rest of the morning walking in the garden (about half of it unavailable as they are reconstructing the cafe and updating the garden). The focus on the remaining plants was on succulents and cacti, then green fern-like plants. There was also a collection of orchids, huge bamboo, and bonsai plants. The library was open to us; we got a pass when we showed our tickets, and the art by one artist reminded me of some of the older art at Disney. We then learned that the artists had worked on some of the early animations and other Disney projects.

The library’s focus seemed to be raw information, with thirty years or more of registry books and studies on the shelves. I sat, after a while, in a chair in the stacks next to Cost Mesa lists of residences and businesses that went back to the 1800s (One set was stamped by a funeral home, which needed to know, I guess, where their ‘customers’ lived or once lived). Another ten years were stamped by a plumber. Definitely a research library and not your usual place to get the latest SciFi books or read a current magazine.

We tried Summer House for lunch, and I watched some of the USA game against Australia. The USA would lock in its place in the 32-elimination round today. My BLT was above average (I get a better one at Lucky Labrador’s in Portland), and Deborah had a huge turkey burger.

Next, we traveled to Balboa Island without difficulty, following the advice of someone we met yesterday to park on the island for free and take the ferry to the peninsula. We walked the few blocks to the ferry. The vibe of the area was safe, almost intense, like a gated community, and I commented that it felt like Stepford Wives had found an island. Later, we saw a real estate listing with homes priced $3-15 million.

We took a car ferry (handling about three cars at a time) for $2 each to the peninsula, which had a beach-and-pier feeling, with young gals in bare feet walking around and feeling safe. I stopped by Balboa Inn, half a block from the beach, and learned that a decent room there costs $350 per night. Not insanely priced. Resorts were double that, and there were options in the $ 4,000-a-night range. I picked off-season for the price as shortages would like drive up prices now.

We walked through the carnival-like area, then to the pier, and out into the Pacific. Out on the end, I caught a glimpse of some whales, but I could not see them return to show them to Deborah. We skipped getting more food at Ruby’s, which is at the end of the pier.

We skipped getting our feet in the ocean, as it was roaring and crashing, with folks often running back up the beach slope to avoid being knocked down or covered in the white water. It is very cold water. The beach was more like a sand-built dike, with you walking down into the surf. With the shape angle, the water returns fast and feeds the next wave. The sound was loud!

Next, we returned by ferry (another $2 in cash each), walked back to the car, and started to leave Balboa Island, but there was an easy parking spot in front of a Frozen Banana shop, and we thought we could not refuse divine intervention. We each got one. The banana, while frozen, is more like a frozen ice cream bar and is edible.  Deborah got some merch to take home. An episode of the TV show Arrested Development was filmed here.

We also visited the local museum, where we met some friendly locals who enjoyed the story of the impossible parking space and the obvious divine need for frozen-banana consumption. We bought some cards and a sticker there.

Next, we tried Lido Village Bookshop. I nearly ran down some folks crossing the crosswalk while I was dodging another car pulling out. Too many things to deal with at once. I stopped the car in time, thanks to Deborah’s callout that there were people near. I managed, slightly shaken by the close call, to park in a garage (hitting one curb, but with no damage), and we got to the bookstore, tiny and stocked only with new books, before it closed, without further incidents.

After some study, I found that the store had bookmarks in some of the books describing them, and I soon picked out The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro. I remember the movie and thought it a good read (it was also the shortest of the books they had by the author, two were marked with their notes). I also got my $10 parking validated to zero with my purchase. Not a bad deal.

Next, by a slightly convoluted path, we changed directions mid-way to have dinner at Season 52. A new chain, to me, of restaurants often found at high-end malls. While not cheap, the food was excellent and cost about the same as what we had been paying for lunch without drinks. Deborah and I had wine and a snack of humus, pita, and artichoke hearts, and then dinner with dessert at a table. It took 40 minutes for our table, but we got seats at the bar. And yes, I did see more soccer at the bar.

Dinner was shrimp and grits, though not true New Orleans style (which I make myself from my classes), it was still good. Much like a deconstruction of the original and then simplified. Deborah had cedar-planked salmon, which was delicious. We had two mini-desserts. With us full and sleepy, we headed back to the hotel, and I wrote out postcards and cards before passing on writing this blog last night. I woke up often, and my dreams, though forgotten, were vivid, and I think about traveling with Deborah.

Thanks for reading!

Waking from nightmares and broken sleep, Thursday luckily had no plans. I rose, made coffee for Deborah, and tried to stay out of her way as she got ready for one more day of labs and sessions. I also offered bagels, though the cream cheese was frozen solid, but I learned that Deborah, while she buys them for her sons, does not eat them. I had one microwaving the bagel and the cream cheese to get at least close to expectations. We still had plenty of her cereal and shelf-stable 1% milk in the fridge (and not frozen solid), and that worked with coffee.

Deborah returned to her sessions, happy to have newly washed clothes (I did the laundry yesterday), and was soon on her way. I wrote the blog and had a second coffee. I wrote a postcard to Mom Wild. I published the blog, dressed, and headed downstairs to let the room be cleaned without me and to change my surroundings. I don’t like to work too long in hotel rooms. There are plenty of bars and coffee shops in this world for my work.

(Deborah is going with the Conference theme of safari)

Deborah met me there between sessions and asked me to carry some items up for her. The usual heavy educational trinkets and books; Deborah coordinates English as a Second Language in a Michigan school district and teaches some of the classes. I got the postcard on its way, and the bellhop (do we still use that term?) remembered me from my previous stay and welcomed me back.

I was back in the room, reading some Facebook posts, and posted the complete text of the Iran-USA Menu of Understanding that I saw Trump sign on TV to Facebook. I like facts; it is a lousy deal for the US, in my opinion. It is on the Internet, Dear Reader, if you want to read it and decide how to react. It does not seem worth the lives of our troops, billions of dollars in arms, and paying $300 Billion to rebuild Iran. That it gives the UN control of the deal was unexpected by me, a strange document, indeed.

Deborah had no time to eat, but things changed, and we ended up having brunch at the hotel. Deborah’s meal is covered by her employer. It was good, even when we had to send her meal back, a good time, and the staff was pleasant and helpful.

I took a nap. Deborah would later point out that, as she went to bed early, I had taken multiple naps today while she worked. I agreed with her. I write the blog while she sleeps.

Joe’s Italian Ice was on the to-do list. With the conference done, Deborah and I walked the four blocks to the place. We watched a mob of cops with even a helicopter hit pile into a parking lot across the main drag, guns drawn or hands on guns at least. At least seven cars. We checked the Internet, but nothing so far. It was gone, with no sign it had happened (police tape, closed businesses, and so on).

We ordered Italian Ice and ice cream together. It had a lot of sugar, but it was still great. We could have shared one. We sat with a gentleman and his daughter and talked. He suggested visiting Balboa Island, parking on the island (for free), and taking the ferry to the peninsula. We walked back to the hotel.

Next, we tried Book Town USA, a used book store. The store had a 40% off sale on their already reduced prices. It was the usual disheveled store with some books in boxes that could not fit on the full shelves. The shelves were marked, sometimes with authors’ names, but those tags were now out of date and served more as approximate locations. I found a good Michael Grant history, a cheap but newish chart of history that I have not bought before, as it was always expensive ($9.99 with 40% off now). I added a Cold War spy novel and a murder mystery/crime story in Alaska. Deborah found a book from the 1990s on a political topic.

The owner asked that I tell my friends about his sale. Cheap, good books, used, plus 40% off.

We then, with not much planned for the rest of the day, drove around the area to see what it was like. This was not the high end with nicely maintained trailer parks and smaller homes on tiny lots. There were many apartment blocks too. Endless strip malls filled the spaces in between, with the number of parks reduced by the area’s apparent wealth. All the housing is near roads, and many have high fences.

We returned to the hotel, dropped off a few things in the room, and then headed to Red Robin for something less expensive. We got a booth seat at the bar for two and could watch the second half of Mexico vs. Korea. It was 0-0 until Mexico managed an impossible goal of recovering the ball from the Korean goalkeeper and sending it past him after he had stopped a usual shot and was on the ground. Wow! Mexico will be in the 32 teams in the next round.

While it is hard to admit, we were both tired and went to bed early. I started, but did not complete the blog. I slept well through the night. All my dreams, pleasant and maybe driving through dream Anaheim, are forgotten.

Thanks for reading

 

I do not get many not-busy days while traveling, but Wednesday was mostly reading and watching the World Cup while Deborah was busy in her conference.

I rose early with Deborah, and we were going a bit early and had to wait until it was time for her breakfast. I collected our soiled clothing from the past ten days (I started earlier than Deborah to drive down for two days). I carried the bags down to the EV and headed to the nearby coin laundry. There, I also took the bottle of liquid soap (I had repurposed a drink bottle, filled it with soap, and put it in a ziplock bag), along with Bounce sheets, a bag full of coins from my last trip to a coin laundry, and various change I have collected over the year. I used three moderately sized washers to run three loads (Oh, that is about all the excitement we are getting this blog). A woman who was doing her laundry and I discussed the different machines; she was using the toploaders (same price). She believed, as I did, that top loaders beat up clothing more, but she seemed more used to them and thus preferred them.

I gave Jose, one of the folks there, who seemed to be running low on soap, my unused half-bottle of laundry soap and my remaining dryer sheets. He was surprised, and we chatted for a while with his English being a bit challenged, but he was happy to be noticed. Being seen is important. I did make a joke to many that Disney should have a Character Laundry in addition to their brunches and breakfasts. There were a few characters, local, at the coin laundry, but everyone was fixated on getting done and out of there. I had started just after 8, and the place was getting busy as I finished.

I chatted some more with the top-loader using women, and she suggested doing the Christmas tour in Finland and then heading to Sweden for the Northern Lights. She did this in March. We talked about Iceland first, and then she added that she did Iceland at the end of her Scandinavian trip. It sounded lovely, and she really enjoyed the Northern Lights in Sweden.

The instructions were in English and Spanish, many in Spanish first. The TV was on a Spanish Channel with the World Cup starting again. I was the only gray-haired white guy. Many guys were there washing their uniforms. The prices were $3 for the moderate-sized washers and dryers, and a quarter for about 10 minutes. About $1-$2 for a larger load. I used two.

I folded everything and put some in Air VW, the Gray, since I would not need two weeks’ worth of clothing. I grabbed a cloth grocery bag from the cargo hold and pushed all the reasonably clean clothing into it. I returned to the room, hung some of the clothing, and laid out some for Deborah to fold or use as needed.

Exciting, I know.

I returned to the same area and picked up WaBa rice bowls for lunch, since today was a find-your-own-lunch day at the conference. Deborah had 90 minutes for lunch, and we spent it together in the room instead of going somewhere else. It was nice to be together for a while. Deborah had dinner out for the conference.

I spoke to my server from yesterday; she was happy to see me back at the bar, feeling better, and she was sporting an England jersey (they played earlier). She has lived in Anhiem her whole life, was born here, and loves it. She and her husband are both in the service industry (I am sorry I forgot her name) and cannot imagine living anywhere else.

I headed to the hotel bar around 4, after surfing the Internet and doing some church paperwork, and spent too much on a salad and a bowl of chips. I did get to watch Ghana sneak in a goal at 90+5, wow, now ranked just behind England. I am reading a new mystery author for a locked-room mystery, Thus Was Adonis Murdered: A Novel (Hilary Tamar Book 1) on my Kindle. The story’s characters mostly receive letters about a murder and try to solve it from a distance. The use of obscure words, often in their archaic usage, makes the writing fun to read. I often have to use the built-in dictionary on the Kindle. I read this book all day and during the endless passing on the game.

With a last-minute attempt by Panama to score (Ghana’s goalkeeper stopped it and was run over by one of the Ghana players, earning the Ghana player a Yellow Card), Ghana kept the win. This goalkeeper was hurt multiple times, stayed in, seemed to be everywhere at once, and stopped at least four good Panama shots.

Deborah arrived at the bar as the game was finishing, and I paid my check (wow, that should have got the hotel a Yellow Card) as the next game started up. We spent the rest of the evening just resting and reading. We went to bed early.

I woke with a start from a bad dream. I have a terrible dream where I find myself in a diabolical, escape-room-like predicament, but in a whole complex. I have to solve the mystery, which is obscure, but as time moves on, people start to disappear, and monsters start to roam. I am trying to learn what I have to do to end this thing. Deborah is there, and she enters with me, but the complex sends us to other sides, and already the thing is timing down fast to disaster. I wake shaking and scared. But all is safe in the room. I managed to sleep again. Another dream, faded now, is about traveling and not scary, but again, my memory is faded now.

And that is a good place to stop. Thanks for reading.

Late addition: I forgot to say that I was delighted to see my first Social Security Benefit payment in my checking account on Wednesday! It is a major financial milestone for me and the execution of the plan I built years ago.

We were up at 6ish, as Deborah’s conference starts in full force today (and Wednesday). Breakfast was provided for Deborah, so I had a bowl of cereal in the room and made coffee for both of us before Deborah headed out to the hotel ballrooms. I bought a ticket to the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library and Air Force One. I had checked the driving time, which, to my surprise, had now expanded to over two hours each way. Yikes! But it was the plan, and I really wanted to see the Cold War Air Force One plane from the 70s-80s.

Reagan, I remember, unkindly, as the mad man who nearly made Nuclear War real with a joke and shut down aid to colleges in his early years, making my choices narrow when I graduated high school. Feel free, dear readers, to love Reagan and his image, but I remember cuts and giveaways to the military-industrial complex. I lived in DC during the 80s and 90s and watched it. I wanted to see the plane and some of the documents of the Cold War and the beginning of the end of the Soviet Union. I saw it fly over DC, and I remember Reagan traveling all the time.

I also remember that when President Bush took over for Reagan after running a slander campaign, he banned broccoli from the plane. The same lawyers who got Bush elected (but failed on the second term) found that the DC area had no good BBQ and created Hot Red & Blue BBQ, which Barb C used to cater her wedding in Laurel, Michigan. So many memories came back as I walked through the library.

But first, I spent two hours driving there. About half of it at low speeds in the cement canyons of LA and areas North and West. Boring, but not frustrating. I unwound the same track I’d taken to enter LA, but then turned West onto hills and parched, rugged, beautiful areas. The presidents lined the roads on a banner, in order to FDR, then went back down the hill until Biden. I tried to recall details about each one. Some I have forgotten, but most I remembered a fact or two.

I parked the car, and a Tesla Truck parked across from me, and I used that to find the car later. I called up my ticket, which was scanned in and then handed off to an army of docents. There was someone, friendly and nicely turned out in dark colors and, if male, with a red-striped tie museum tie. I had worn a dress shirt, a dark sweater vest, and dark gray pants, which seemed to earn me a friendly welcome, and I was even mistaken for staff once.

I skipped most of the displays, as I felt there was some revisionist history going on, that I had lived through much of it, but I did enjoy some of the late Presidents’ speeches and learned from the docent on Air Force One that the “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall” in 1987 statement was written on the plane on the actual typewriter given to the museum from the writer (on the plane in it orginal place). The story was that the words were dropped but were reinstated by the writer and Reagan.

I was overwhelmed by the plane and its place in history, a true relic of the Cold War, and it could have been the instrument of Nuclear War. The nuclear “football” case was on the plane, the one used when he was President. It went to China with Nixon. It was often in the Soviet Union. Wow! I was allowed to walk through it.

President Reagan wrote a goodbye letter when it was announced he suffered from Alzheimer’s, and I did cry a little when I heard him read it while I read the handwritten version. It is the last thing in the museum before they cover his funeral. I did visit his and Nancy’s grave.

Again, I found the revisionist history and Reagan’s speeches need to be taken with a dose of skepticism. I cannot recommend it except for the plane, the stealth fighter, and the helicopter (which was not open when I was there). I also liked seeing the signed treaties themselves, as I remember the signings. The food: I had a great rueban sandwich; while not cheap, it was good.

They had documents and artifacts from the county’s founding to celebrate its 250th anniversary, along with some historical items. I have seen better displays in Boston. The documents were interesting, but few had the text shared, and I struggled to read anything in the dim light, the old pen writing, and the unique spellings. No book of the items with text was in the store. The items were from private collections, and that may explain the strange items (Lincoln’s gloves, which he wore on his last night alive) and the lack of texts.

I left before 1, having started at 10:10. Six miles away in the wrong direction (later costing 2%), I found a 350kW and discovered that some were Tesla, but found what I needed. It was a whopping $45 to add 75% to reach 100%. The highest I have ever paid. EVgo will be avoided from now on. I read and nodded off for 45 minutes waiting for the charge.

Another two hours and fifteen minutes’ trip, with Navigation giving up on the highways for part of the way, and I drove through Pasadena’s back roads. It was a great drive, and I admired the homes there. Back into the cement canyons, and finally back to Disney. I drove by and reached the hotel.

Deborah was resting in the room for an hour, but then had an event. I headed to the bar and watched the last minutes of Norway’s 4-1 win over Iraq that ruined Iraq’s chances in the World Cup. I ordered ginger ale and some meatballs from the Happy Hour menu. Getting out of the bar for just over $23 with tip.

The Church Council meeting started at 6:30, and Deborah soon fell asleep after returning from her event. She was running hard and fast for the conference, and the time difference makes it even harder. So no hanging out tonight.

I finished the meeting (leaving early), wrote postcards, and wrote this blog. Tomorrow I will do laundry at a local coin laundry. We will meet for lunch, and then Deborah has a dinner event. I will find dinner on my own.

Thanks for reading. It was a good day, but a lot of LA driving.

Deborah is reading in the bedroom in our suite here in Orange County, in another Hyatt hotel. Unlike the Long Beach one, this one is near nothing of interest. Shuttles to Disneyland or OC buses get you somewhere, but this time we have Evie to help us. I started writing after reading for a few hours and recovering from severe nausea likely caused by a cold brew coffee. Too much caffeine for me on an empty stomach, which I did not improve with a local beer, followed by a heavy lunch. Oops. I did have the heaves and was happy not to re-experience my Beef Wellington (I have always wanted to try it) in reverse (though this was a deconstructed version, it was still great and I think it counts). Deborah, unaffected by the caffeine issue, had a pork roast over potatoes and veggies. Wonderful. She was excited that she could order as-is.

I managed to start recovering with just a few bad heaves around 6ish, after being down for the afternoon. I headed to the bar, got a ginger ale, and then a bowl of minestrone soup while watching Iran vs. New Zealand tie their game in the first half for the World Cup. Deborah registered for her conference; I am the plus-one, and she attended the start-up. Later, she reheated her lunch leftovers. It was great the second time.

We slept in today and did not get started until 8ish, and did not get going until 10ish. We had cereal for breakfast and discovered that the in-room fridge is set to North Pole conditions, which froze our milk to slush and turned our strawberries into ice cubes. I adjusted it down. I made coffee, and we brought extra (we also grabbed extra at the previous Hyatt and have lots of water).

We decided on San Juan Capistrano, home to the oldest buildings in California, and traveled about 35 minutes in an Air VW the Gray during mid-morning between-games traffic. We usually check things, but we just sort of did the ad hoc and headed there. We discovered that the mission and museums were closed on Monday (as they are in nearly everywhere else), but after a bit of wandering in the EV on tiny streets, we found free four-hour parking in a park and walked to the Los Rios Historic District. It was wonderful, and we would have likely missed it had we been focused on the nearby Mission. We had coffee (where I overdid it) at Hidden House Coffee (I bought a bag to grind at home), and we walked the area built in the 1700s to the early 1800s. Wow! It was relaxing and fun. Amtrak runs through the area, and we learned of the Pacific Surfliner Train as we watched it stop and add/subtract passengers. Something to do on one of these trips!

(the original well)

An amazing (and expensive) but nearly perfect meal at Trevor’s at the Tracks followed. This is the repurposed and rebuilt rail station. Our meal was perfect, and I watched Egypt nearly beat Belgium (they tied 1-1, with Belgium scoring late).

We will be back to Capistrano, as we loved the place and could imagine living there and hopping on Amtrak to get to LA. Not likely we will see everything and buy a tiny place there, but it was excellent nonetheless. If we can fit a return in, time is always starting to run out, and find the mission worth a visit, I would then recommend it. More to come, I hope.

Deborah has a Disney Character Brunch for us on Friday. Her conference gets busy after today, and I plan to find the Regan Presidential Library, wash some clothing, and check out a few other local items TBD.

Thanks for reading!