Hey now and good morning! It’s Friday and you made it to September 18, 2020. It feels like the Coachella Valley is hot boxed like the Datsun B210 that used to get hot boxed after well, you know, back in my early 30’s. I didn’t even smoke weed then, believe it or not, but I was busy chain smoking cigarettes and drinking 151 and Coke out of a 7/11 cup while our kids were in the apartment above us, watching TV or usually after they were asleep, if we were lucky. Those were the days and I miss my friend and wish she didn’t have to leave so soon after I had moved into that apartment in Alhambra. Funny, but this weather made me think of her. We used to sneak down beneath the carport to her car and the apartment manager would also join us and we would gossip. It was the greatest few months. I guess the heavy feeling in my lungs made me think of them both. She had moved out when I was just starting to work on the weekends as a cocktail waitress and stopped hanging out so much in the carport. I guess it was then that I just left people and drifted away with out saying good bye or making any effort to stay in touch. Anyhow, I wonder how they are doing as we never connected via social media but am too scared to reach out as I know that one lady was a pro-claimed skin-head and the other friend should not have been friends with either one of us because we all proclaimed that we were assholes! We hid out for a reason. To get quiet time from our kids!!! HA HA!!! We met one night around midnight, doing laundry and giving each other the stink eye as we waited our turn for the dryer. Memories. Oh yeah, You can verify these facts with my sons. We all knew that some of us could not be seen in public with the other but you know me, I didn’t care. I love er’e one, okay almost every one. So, my lungs feel heavy, like they did back then. Some nights, when we had heavy discussions, we could go through, 2 bottles of pop and 3 packs of smokes. I remember my eyes would be bloodshot and it would feel like I had been swimming in an indoor pool for 2 days straight. It was the best. Better than any night club.
Hubby was home yesterday and we went on our usual breakfast ride. We headed out toward Palm Springs. Luckily, it was before the fires. Really, I had already been feeling icky. We passed our old work place and made a few jokes. It is hard to believe that for a few months, he and I worked together. He drove around the suburbs near the base of the mountains. I saw something shiny and I have thing for shiny objects. Up ahead was a sculpture in front of the Palm Springs Art Museum and I made Hubby “Stop!!!!” Okay so not that dramatic.
After we left there we came to the Tahquitz Canyon, as I needed a rest room.
If anything, do take the trip there to get a view of the Coachella Valley. It is worth the price of admission, which yesterday, was free. I have moderate walking issues, meaning I could use a cane or not while walking and could probably handle the walking trail with moderate difficulty. The vistior center is handicap accessible so do not let that discourage anyone as really, that view is one that everyone should see at least once.
Behind the building, just near the restrooms, is the where the trails start. There is a sign that indicates the proper pandemic etiquette while on the trail. The staff on duty mentioned that the waterfall was dry. So, hopefully, we have a rainy winter and the waterfall returns later this year.
So, my last post I wrote about my beloved and befuddled Los Angeles Clippers. I said I would never write or mention them again if they lost. Well, poo poo on that. They lost. Am I sad? You betcha! Tonight, I get to sit beside Hubby, for a bit, till I get tired and go back to my Hart of Dixie marathon. Time for me to give up on some of my silly superstitions. I still have a little hope though, the Celtics are down two-zero, so, maybe. It is getting kind of traditional, like making tamales and waiting for the swallow to come home, you know, waiting for the Clippers to make their exit and to go fishing for the season. One day though, it’s gonna happen, I just know it. I went back to look at my posts from September of 2019 and noticed that I had a post from 2018. I thought maybe there might be some mention of the Clippers, but no, maybe because of the pandemic and timing. Apparently, the valley was smokey back then as well, as I titled that post, When Smoke Gets in Your Eyes. I posted that on September 25, 2018.
Then I looked at the posts for 2019 and I had post for September 17, 2019 Soapbox.. No fires mentioned. Must have been a good year in 2019. Another good reason I like keeping a journal for the history. Oh sorry, the morning wake and bake got away with me. So, yesterday, we had intended to make it out to Country Night but the lingering smoke from the El Dorado fire along with the added smoke from the PS fire now burning just made the air thicker so we opted to stay in. Hopefully, California will be under clearer skies and life will be better for every one. Next week, Rob Staley band will be in town and for sure, I will be there even if I have to Uber it! I am sure they will have that floor swinging and I will be able to get on the floor and no one will notice. Groovy! My goal this year is to dance more and maybe Hubby can take the pics, maybe. Still looking for orthopedic cowboy boots for women, any suggestions?
To you dear reader, where ever you may be, have a weekend full of laughter and adventure, even if the adventure is no farther than your front door. Hugs to you and you and especially YOU!