There’s no place like home…

Barbara's kitten "Zimmy". Named after Bob Dylan, she says. Yeah, maybe she's had one too many pain pills.

Ahh – it’s trite but Dorothy’s mantra “There’s no place like home” still feels like the right response as I arrived back in San Francisco yesterday afternoon. I was tired and ache-y from the trip and I may have picked up a slight cold bug, or perhaps it was just I developed an allergy to Barbara’s kitten, Zimmy.  Anyway I decided to BART home.  BART is fine (although you must bring earplugs – the cars screech on the tracks at high volume).  It’s MUNI that is the challenge.  I had to catch the 48 bus up 24th street from Mission.  The bus was there when I got out of the BART station and I had to run with the luggage to catch it at the light.  And then it was mid-afternoon and the bus was filled with school kids.  I squeezed on, the driver was nice about it.

Shmoopy and I only had a few minutes together when he got in from work.  It was his evening to help the phone banks for No on 8 at their offices on Market.  I fell asleep before he got back – still on eastern time I guess.  LOL he owes me some lovin’ tonight!

My flights back underscored the decline of air travel over the past decade or so – everything was on time, but the trip still took nine hours.  Back when I was a whipper-snapper we could catch a 9:00am nonstop from any northeast city and be in San Francisco at 11:30am.  That’s a 5 and a half hour trip for those of you who “learned” math after 1980.  It’s not purely the fact that most flights take a connection through a black-hole-of-air-traffic (aka hub city) now;  the airlines actually fly the planes slower to save fuel.  So even nonstops crawl across country now compared to the plane of yore.

Is she or isn't she?

Is she or isn

On the flip side, while my butt was cramping my mind was being enlightened by the writing of Toni Morrison.  I read her “Beloved” on the way back.  It’s a powerfully emotional story, told so beautifully it’s as if you yourself are there in 1874 in southern Ohio.  Her command of scene-setting and narrative are exceptional.  Well – she won a Nobel Prize so I know I am not going out on a limb here.  Her ability to paint people’s humanity filled with all the flaws we have and yet build sympathy and love for the characters is amazing.  If you haven’t read it yet – get it.

We head out of town on vacation to Puerto Vallarta Friday night.  I know Rick needs a break from work and few days on the “blue chairs” at Los Muertos beach is the prescription.  That and strong margueritas.  For me, I succombed to junk food and no exercise on my nursing trip.  So the first thing I am going to do when I get off the plane in Puerto Vallarta is drink some water from a ditch.  As the model said in “The Devil Wears Prada” I am only a stomach flu away from losing 6 or 8 pounds!

Okay just kidding.  I’ll have to get back in shape the old-fashioned way – dexies.  Yeah that’s the ticket!  No – just kidding again, I finally read “Valley of the Dolls” last week – you can see there are tremendous gaps in my reading.


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