Adventures With Patti

Gauss, Ginnie, and I went into downtown Menlo Park for breakfast this morning. A lady showed up in the bakery wearing 4" spiked heels. I feel like the lumpen proletariat among the cake-eaters. Menlo Park is full of Mercedes and Lexus SUVs; we are driving the Mercury Villager with 180,000 miles on it.

The misshapen chocolate stash that got us across America: We prod ourselves across Nevada's 400 miles of emptiness by judiciously doling out Dove chocolates at intervals. When motivation sags or boredom sets in, we give each other meaningful looks that say, "It's time for chocolate!" Whomever is riding shotgun then peels the foil off a chocolate for the driver and administers the dose. The bag of chocolate got a little too warm that first day, softening and deforming, and then re-hardening so that for many of the pieces, the foil wrapper has become incorporated inot the solidified candy. It becomes a kind of useful meditation for the passenger to carefully remove all bits of foil before serving the driver. And it has the advantage of keeping us occupied whild five or six additional miles tick by.

A comical place, full of casinos and smokers, plus a handful of folks who look really down and out. After our sizeable lunch at Penny’s Diner in Green River, Wyoming, Ginnie and I were determined to go light and have salads for dinner. Parking the rig is always a challenge, so our first order of business each evening is to find a safe place to park it and then head out on foot. As soon as we got it parked in Elko, the rain started. This has been our pattern: the minute we pick a hotel, the sky opens up and we are hauling our crap across the parking lot in the rain. Ginnie had thought to pack a raincoat but I had not. My solution was to get an old aqua-colored bath towel out of the truck and drape it over my head. We laughed at how we must have looked, Ginnie in mesh jogging capris and a T-shirt with a prominent chocolate stain front and center, me with a towel over my head, walking in the pouring rain through the casino parking lots. Nobody walks in Elko but the down and out. People co

At Penny's diner in Green River, Wyoming After fueling up at everybody’s favorite gas station in Iowa Ginnie C over, truck-drivin’ woman Our rig: a 26 foot diesel truck with the bug riding on a trailer, at our first rest stop in Iowa

Master bedroom, completely cleared out I slept on an air mattress on the floor of my office the last night Front hallway minus everything A very cleaned-out living room My office setup the day before I left

Still no pix, sorry. We are in Laramie, Wyoming this evening. Today we drove across Nebraska under partly sunny skies. Our only snag was a minor truck issue when I inadvertently hit the "economy" setting on the transmission, a no-no when towing a trailer. I realized it immediately, pulled over and shut it off, but then the "Check Engine" light came on. We were in far western Nebraska, receiving only intermittent cell phone signals, so it took a few tries to reach the Penske help line. The guy told me that, much like a computer, the best way to reset the engine light is to turn it off, wait a few minutes, and turn it on again. Success! Back on the road, we hit heavy rain, but no funnel clouds, when we reached the Wyoming border. We drove past snowfields as we went through the high pass between Cheyenne and Laramie. Ginnie and I are no doubt the laughingstock of the truckers when we pull in to fuel up. We meander around, looking for a way to line up the truck with the

It was an emotional day, complicated by news from Luca that the cockatiels haven't been doing well at his place. Susie has become very aggressive and takes it out on Tubby, who seems lost and depressed. Just before leaving home, I had called and emailed Jeanne, my favorite bird-sitter for advice and help, but it appeared she was gone for the weekend. Ginnie and I closed up the house at 8:30 and stopped for final coffee and goodies at the Liberty Cafe. The pastry selection was thin, so I ate chocolate mint gelato for breakfast, which I deserved to do. We adjusted to driving a 26' truck with the bug trailered behind--no sudden moves! As we drove through Iowa, cool, cloudy weather gave way to heat and humidity. I checked in with Luca, who confirmed my fears that the birds were not making the adjustment, so I had Gauss contact the Twin Cities Parrot Rescue organization to see about some foster care. Knowing that something was being done eased my mind somewhat. After eating dinner j

Left to right: Pam Schmid, Eli (in baby bag), Sharon Soderlund, Patti, Sue Leaf, Judy Helgen, Sue Narayan. Photo taken by the talented and charming Sankar Narayan. Sue Narayan hosted a memorable potluck lunch and writing meeting at her house. We had delicious salads, fruit, great bread—and a killer torte contributed by Sue Leaf, who knows when it’s time to bring on the chocolate. Members of the group shared readings of their own writings on the theme of transitions. No dry eyes, except perhaps Eli, who is male and slept through it. He cried later. Thanks, writers, for the years of friendship and really good advice. I will miss our bi-monthly meetings but look forward to critiquing via Internet and watching the progress of everyone’s work. This is not adieu but au revoir!

Bev has been tearing through the house with her rug cleaner... Karen, Margie, and Anne O’Brien tore through the furnace room...

Bev gave the orders to Jane and me. We cleared all the stuff out of the two basement rooms and Gauss’ office. Then Bev had at it with her carpet cleaner. Voilà!

Lots of people have been pitching in the help me pack and clear out: Bev Petrie, Aldo and Luisa, Deb Black, Jane Toeniskoetter, the Weiss’. Here are some of the results: Gauss’ office, ready for Bev to have at it with her carpet cleaner Sewing/birdie room, nearly empty Second floor hall closet, also nearly empty Emilio’s stuff gathered in one corner of the basement

I took Spicy to the vet to get prepped for his voyage to California. He yowled all the way there in the car. Then he had to endure the indignity of getting his temperature taken. After injections for feline leukemia, rabies, and distemper shots, he got microchipped. So he’s now a bionic kitty! He now tips the scales at just a hair under 15 lbs., and the vet says Spicy should not gain any more weight. I mentioned how last year the vet had commented that Spicy was a very muscular cat. This year’s vet agreed, but added that Spicy is getting a bit of a gut. I guess all that lounging around during the cold winter months gave him the spare tire. Perhaps the California lifestyle will get him back to his trim self.  He was VERY quiet on the trip home, and as soon as he got out of his kitty carrier, he ran outside to sulk. By evening he had forgiven me and came back for some cat chow. He gets a nonstop flight to San Jose on Friday, May 23. 

The last couple weeks have been really hard. I’m so sad to be leaving Minnesota and all my friends and family here—even just the place. I’ve lived here for 50 years.  The amount of work involved in dismantling a house we’ve raised kids in and lived in for 16 of those years is staggering. I feel like I’m trying to move a mountain with a teaspoon. I told Gauss that my tank is empty, but I still have a thousand miles to drive. Then a group of friends took me out for dinner at Little Sichuan: Nanc Macleslie, Bev Petrie, Deb Black, Jane Toeniskoetter, and Carolyn Roby. At the end of the meal, this is the fortune that was in my cookie:

The weather is finally cooperating, so Dave Weiss and his friend Paul came by a couple days ago to tear out one of the old skylights. Dave got one of the new ones put in yesterday. In the meantime, I’ve been clearing out the kitchen. Look! The cupboard is bare!