Monday, June 27, 2011

Friendship, its all about friendship....


Debbie said That Robert's dates were a beanpole, a gimp and a blind woman.  So?  He's in luck with such interesting, fascinating women.  Time spent with us is never boring.

A trip to Denver to see the grandkids - Adam, Timothy and Wendy - and out to dinner to a barbecue joint.  The sky  was filled with ash and smoke from all the fires in front and back of Colorado.  At the barbecue place the boys were in awe over the gravy, as we all took a bath in the ribs and beans.  Wonderful.

Dinner with Bob and Donna and Harold - all from Fountain hills, only we are a block from the cold, cold beach in Ventura at a  fish and chips place that Bob called a dive.  The food was heavenly - so good, we had a hard time having a conversation as we were savoring fresh, wonderful flavors.  Bob and Donna escape from FH in their elegant trailer and spend the summer months surfing and playing on the coast, moving every two weeks.  We tried to stay in their state beach but were told by the beaurocrat from hill that we had to have a 3" hose for our black water, grey water, etc.  We explained that we were fully self contained and didn't need that stuff.  No dice.  We checked into a motel and slept like babies in the ocean air.  Quite a huge contrast from Nuevo.  And wonderul to connect with our friends from "home".  We don't really know wherre home is anymore, but Harold commutes back to FH a couple times a month - as well as flies all over the US.  We realized that our base is the long, lovely  friendship(s) that we have.

Robert in Ojai - We had ;made a fast stop here on our way to Barbara's house in Santa Barbara.  I wanted to check out some galleries and try to find some long sleeved t-shirts for mountain and ocean living.  Huh?  Try $65 for t-shirts.  I didn't want them that bad and managed to be polite in the wonderful botiques.  The paintings in the galleries all seemed to be of a type that was popular in the 30's - the plein aire painters of Calif. but these were done by artists of today.  A few years ago the style was all realism to the point where one would think a photo would do the job.  The town is built around some Spanish style buildings from the turn of the century, with arcades hiding the blilng t-shirt shops.  Just to say we did something there, we visited the old post office and put in a change of address as the IRS sends mail to us in Fountain Hills.  I didn't want to ask Robert what address he put down for a forwarding.



Michael and Scott, to be college sophmores in the fall, and Koa, who remembers when he towered over them.  The boys and their gang were in an out (LA) and brought back memories of the "breakfast club" we didn't know we had in Hawaii.  Robert would bring home a load of groceries and they would disappear and no one seemed to understand why until Robert returned home one morning, having forgotten something.  There was a gang of kids cooking and eating, the refrigerator open, and bacon smells.  When I saw the boys in the  past fall, they were my height.  These are Ian's sons and our little grandsons.

Cafe Sabroso in Nuevo served us a simple dinner onenight, with four great salsas:  the favorite was the mango with hot chilies in vinegar.  We chopped and chopped in LA for the salsa, Ian cooked the pork (which I slathered in garlic and Mexican herbs), and the sweet potatoe fries were saved from an inferno by Alycin, a granddaughter, from severe burning.  Polly, a friend who grew up with my sons in Kailua brought a broccoli salad.  I wanted a photo for the memory, and it seemed everyone else did, too.  There were about seven people surrounding this feast with their cell phones, clicking away.  Mojitos topped the feast which we ate in Ian's back yard, around a fire pit, with us tropical flowers freezing in the LA cool. 



Barbara, a friend from so far back that we can't remember, on her Rocky Mountain horse, Lucy.  Lucy is a gaited horse who likes to graze along the way, and I don't have the strength in my arms to keep her from snacking so Barb changed horses with me to teach her a lesson.  She grabbed a mouthful as I was trying to take photos, having gotten on Chamois to try to get a good  photo of Barb and Lucy. I couldn't handle the new horse, the reins and a camera at the same time and kept hearing the beep of the camera taking photos of the ground, the sky and whatever.  Lucky to just get this shot.  Lucy had green grunge around her mouth from the weeds and we just laughed. I had forgotten that English riding ( among a lot of other things)  was two handed and earlier was trying to neck rein her.  Barbara and I met when I lived in Bremerton, (another life) and I kept telling her to go to Hawaii.  She did, and the boys and I later stayed with her when we moved there.  My son Ian cut down her papaya tree when he was five years old, and when chastised, told her that he wanted to give her the flowers on top, and that he would marry her when he grew up.  Silver tongued sweetie that he is.

Me, on  Lucy.  We rode along what I felt was a cliff - but really a high trail.  I didn't get nervous until Barbara said we would head down a trail that looked as if it fell straight down into the valley - but the way to fight acrophobia is to go for it, and the trail really just gently, well, sort of, turned and we could see the lovely valley called Birnum Wood, back of Montecito.

Me, on Chamois - or Shammy, we didn't know.  The gait she would break into is a fast walk that is very comfortable and typical of Rocky Mountain horses.  Good thing we didn't go beyond that as my legs were spaghetti.  Rocovery took a couple of days, and am in training as Barb promised a ride when we return in the Fall.


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