by Phyllis McCrossin
It’s Friday already. How does time manage to sneak up on you, run past and continue on its merry way as if there is no one there to stop it?
Today starts our week home with no babysitting duties – just a few baseball games and practices, otherwise we will be left to our own devices.
We are still staying in a friend’s yard and will probably be here until the end of March, when we will go to Sweetwater Summit campground for one last week so the boys can camp with us.
Regardless of whether we are spending a week at home or spending a week helping out our daughter, our morning routine remains the same. We wake early – between 6 and 7 a.m. – King walks Petra while I fix breakfast.
King doesn’t care if his breakfast is warm. He will get back from the walk, Petra will come inside to eat, I’ll tell him breakfast is ready and he’ll tell me he will be back in to eat “in a bit,” and heads out to smoke a cigar. Cold eggs and bacon … I shudder at the thought.
Yeah, I know, I could wait until he comes back from his smoke to fix breakfast but on the days when I don’t cook while he is walking he will want to eat right away and kind of taps his foot in indignant impatience while he waits. I figure if he wants it cold that’s his prerogative. He could fix it himself if he wanted.
Our host’s home is on a bluff overlooking the San Luis Rey River to the south, the mountains to the east and ocean to the west. There is a paved patio with a table and chairs set up in his yard overlooking the vista.
A bike path runs along the river for its last nine miles before it empties into the Pacific. The trail is open year-round and is pet-friendly. In the spring, wildflowers grow along the trail, in the fall, the leaves are yellow.
Throughout the year the homeless build shelters along the river shore and occasionally law enforcement boots them out, but they slowly make their way back. It’s a vicious cycle and sad to watch.
Every morning our host, who is in his 80s and King sit outside and chat for a bit before we begin our respective days. His wife has dementia and I believe those chats are his only respite.
Last night our host’s son came down from northern California to help with some landscaping. They got up early to make a trip to pick up supplies from Lowe’s. The son was planning to drive his truck and our host was planning to drive his own truck as well for a two-truck supply run.
Unfortunately, our host doesn’t drive his truck very often and in the interim some type of critter built a nest under the hood. The truck would not start. I have not seen such a big smile on King’s face as he came into the trailer to get our keys so he could take our truck on the landscape supply run.
He worked with them most of the day. Tomorrow they plan to trim trees. In the afternoon we will be going to a baseball scrimmage.
I spent the day working on my latest rug. I twine rugs on a loom built for me by a friend from Michigan. I’ve been doing a lot of weaving this winter. It’s rather relaxing and also gives me the opportunity to do a lot of thrift store shopping looking for sheets, which I tear into strips and weave (actually twine) together.
It’s a relaxing existence.
Be kind. Help one another. Be grateful for what you have.
