San Diego was pretty straightforward, so much so that it did not rise to the level of blogworthiness. I did however, get to spend time with two of my shipmates from USS PRINCETON (CG 59) at dinner, one of whom just took command of his own destroyer, and the other of whom has already commanded both a destroyer and a destroyer squadron. Seeing your friends thrive is one of the great benefits of retired status.
My check-in at home had one main objective, and that was the procurement of the Christmas Tree. The Kittens enjoy going to the tree farm, selecting one from the field and cutting it down. I have always considered this more trouble than it is worth, but am consistently outvoted. Before I left for San Diego last Sunday, I checked the oncoming weather for Easton and saw that Thursday would be a very rainy day. I suggested (via text message) that the Kittens watch the weather, and if it looked ugly, they should consider just going to Lowes and grabbing one. As the week progressed, the weather report did not change. Not one bit. The Kitten--when queried by phone on Wednesday--questioned my heartiness in the face of "a little rain", and so sufficiently chastened, I resigned myself to the drudgery of soggy tree cutting.
Thursday dawned as I awoke on the redeye, raining solidly, and it continued the entire drive back to Easton. Arriving at home, I found the Kitten full of piss and vinegar at the prospect of braving the elements, but without any of The Kittens on deck, their joy at the prospect had yet to be surveyed. Upon their waking, it turned out that the younger of the two, whose boarding school status was the reason we put off getting the tree in the first place (it was averred that she had insisted on waiting) was as unenthusiastic about the rain as I, but we piled into the car anyway to bring down a mighty douglas fir. Until we got on the road, and the heavens burst forth...at which point my quietly suggested, "maybe we should swing by Lowes and have a look" was quickly accepted by all.
Now, there are those among you who know that there is one thing that tends to cause me more agitation than anything else in the world. And no, it isn't TSA. It is having the foresight to see a problem coming, warning those responsible for its avoidance, and then having them do nothing to mitigate it. Subordinates in the Navy suffered cruel and unusual punishment when this unfortunate chain of events occurred. In this case, while I was self-satisfied, because the change worked to my advantage, I did not get agitated.
|Tim and Alexandra, with various well-wishers|
Some random thoughts:
You know those little reflectors that are sometimes embedded in the highway lines so that one might see them more easily at night? I first saw them at the age of 8 when I drove in my Grandfather's car from the airport to their home in Hollywood. I was mesmerized by them, and I remember saying so to my grandparents. Cut to 42 years later, this very morning as a matter of fact, when I was driving to the airport--and I again saw the reflectors--and had a vivid recall of that very conversation as if it were happening in the car.
The last time I was in this part of the country was the Spring of 2001, when Grandma Crissie died. She had a long life, and her funeral--while sad as funerals generally are--was somewhat lightened by the realization that she was finally to join Andy--her great love--after twenty-three years without him.
|Bond, James Bond|
I have gained a few pounds, as my new suit(s) (I purchased another of the made to order jobs) are a bit snug. Need to get my act together again. Not a crisis, mind you. Just five pounds or so.
Ok, that's all from here. I am in a sea of humanity at the gate, and soon the Southwest queuing dance will begin.