Home at last

bunny

It’s not quite a month since Sir and our three dogs and I drove 1500 miles from east Texas to our house in San Clemente, California. We’ve owned this house for over 6 years and been leasing it out. That is a tale for another day. Our Texas home is for sale. It was a rather excruciating two day trip in terrible heat (the southwest was in the grip of a bad heat wave.) My car had an issue in that the passenger side mirror whistled/squealed at high speeds (reported to dealer the day we bought the car and repaired twice already.) All in all, we were so glad to reach our destination! I’ve been exhaustively unpacking, cleaning and organizing the house. Sir is continuing to do a ten day work shift back in Texas every month and he is there now, returning Tuesday. Last Thursday the TV, phone and internet were finally hooked up.  Most of the boxes are unpacked or have been relegated to the garages. I mopped my floors twice and cleaned all the bathrooms. Today I can stop and take a bit of a break.

We live way up in the foothills near the US Marine Base Camp Pendleton. When I was a little girl there was nothing here. I mean NOTHING. I feel bad man has come in and built so far up in the hills destroying the natural habitat… and look at me. Here I am living right here smack up against the hillside. When I walk my dogs we see lizards and the cutest cottontail bunnies like the one shown. My big boy Boxer wants to give chase, but I will Not Allow It.

I am loving the cooler SoCal weather. Was it a 19 year bad dream, living in east Texas? Yesterday I drove an hour and a half to Santa Monica, near where I grew up, to visit my best friend since third grade. She is getting married (for the first time) at our ripe old age and wanted me to be there while she tried on wedding gowns. As I stood at the door of her place it was as if I had never moved away. I marveled that I was, after 19 years, back home breathing the ocean air and chatting with my dear dear friend. I felt years of stress fade away and I could feel life and happiness fill my soul again.

Thomas Wolfe was so wrong. You can go home again.

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17 thoughts on “Home at last

  1. oh sweet rebellious angel … I think of you often and so hope everything is on its way to being in its rightful m place … as you so seem to be x

    much love … me … now I can send you stretching tools …

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    • Dearest friend… I have been trying and trying to comment on some of your posts and wordpress won’t “allow” me to?? I am so happy about your upcoming move to the little cottage and know it is the right thing for you. Can’t wait to see photos! Can you check your settings to see if something has changed? Think of you very often. xxxx

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      • many since you first started posting about the move, I am unable to post on your blog – it just disappears!! Very odd indeed. Anyway just know I am thinking of you and sending you all my love and best wishes as you pack and then unpack! Having just been through it all! xx

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      • OH!!! You know how it is, a sheer indescribable delight! I have still not yet been able to go down and dabble my toes in, but just to pass by in the car, and to smell the so very fresh air is the greatest gift Sir could ever have given me. I am so grateful. And to hang my wee bit of clean laundry out in my back yard and to smell the fresh underthings when I bring them in is such a treat!!! My Master is God’s gift itself.

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  2. I am of a “certain age” where San Clemente is associated with President Nixon’s California retreat, when Camp David and his place on Key Biscayne in Florida weren’t cutting it for him. I always thought it was an island. Maybe I was wrong or maybe there are 2 San Clementes. I recall there was an issue with feral goats on Nixon’s San Clemente.

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    • Hmmm. Of course we are probably around the same age, David. Yes, San Clemente was Nixon’s “Western White House.” My dad used to like to drive down to San Clemente once in awhile and go eat at Nixon’s favorite Mexican restaurant. I don’t know if it’s still here. My dad liked Nixon! There wasn’t much else here really back in the 70’s.

      Catalina Island, 26 miles from the mainland and a very short boat ride, is perhaps the island you are thinking of. It is sometimes called Santa Catalina. They’ve always had a problem with the wild goats there. It’s kind of an island thing that they’re not allowed to kill them I believe. It’s mostly a tourist attraction. Though I think a couple thousand folks live there. Way back in the “Roaring” Twenties the Wrigley magnate (gum) built a beautiful casino there and it still stands. People used to go over for big dinner dances and perhaps stay the night or not, and it was the thing to do for many in the Hollywood scene. It is near the entrance to Avalon which is the harbor town, the only real “town” there is. The singer Al Jolson popularized a song about Avalon and it was about Catalina, and there is another famous song about Catalina you may have heard: “26 miles across the sea, Santa Catalina is a’waitin for me, Santa Catalina, the island of romance, romance, romance, romance…”
      Do you know even having grown up in SoCal I have actually never set foot on the island? My dear old uncle (now gone) my dad’s brother used to have a little motor boat and sometimes we’d go fishing and one time we went over to Catalina. We didn’t dock though! Those were the days! I sure wish I had his nice little boat now. It was a sweet little Owens Beechcraft. Funny the things which come back to you. As for Nixon, may he burn for all eternity, and take Trump with him! Rant over!!!!

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  3. It’s so nice to see you so content and at ‘home’!! It must be just marvelous … 😀

    I do love the bunny!! hehehe Did you get a chance to snap that one yourself? I did finally post some of the car pictures, I hope you got a chance to see them!

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    • I’m still processing it, the actually being here after all the years of wanting, missing, desiring. To really be here is just a dream! Sometimes truth be told I’m a bit disoriented. Hard to believe I’m not suffering through the misery of another Texas summer. I’m so grateful to Sir I’m beside myself. I will read your blog one day when I have more free time. xx

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      • Feel free to mail me. Going to go out on a limb and say I’ve more experience in this arena than most vets, hence the question.

        Please consider chipping the other two. Everyone whose pet gets lost says it’s by “accident”, no one ever says it was “on purpose”!

        BTW: Saying that here so that others might see and ponder. Please don’t hear it as berating.

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      • Oh no I did not think that at all and I so agree about the importance. When we got our rescued Boxer I wanted to rescue every dog at the SPCA. It breaks my heart how cruel man is. Our sweet boy was found by side of a road with a broken femur and two vets nursed him back to health including several surgeries and rehab. I saw him lying behind the reception desk at our vet’s and knew he was my dog. And I had never even considered rescuing a dog before! The SPCA said they already had an approved adoption all set up but I should apply anyway so we did. They came out and interviewed us and “approved” our house. We went and looked at some of their other fostered dogs but didn’t find any we loved. Three weeks after that we got a call his adoption fell through! My heart sang! The vet thinks he may have been used as bait in dog fights because he has little scars all over including a split ear and on his lower legs. We just lavish him with love and he is the best dog ever. You would not believe how fast he can run now too.

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