Well, here I am, 84 and feeling pretty good.  A solid 7 feeling.  Trump Disaster is in full bloom.  Sleepy couple of sillies.  Fall asleep often and eat carefully.  Low booze consumption, not zero but low.  The Best is we are absolutely in love with each other.  Just ask her!

On other subjects, ur kat named Cara has fallen head over rump with the new squirrel family.  She is mesmerized by their twitchyness and excited actions. I now throw whole peanuts in their shells onto the ground under the tree they use to display themselves.  The cat goes crazy!

Our trust 2001 Prius is still going strong, she aka "Penny" is 25 years old.  A bruise here and there but she still gets about 35mpg around town. 

8

 Not Dead Yet.  

Our French Daze are over,  yes, the damned Covid pandemic wore us out.  Almost 20 years of trips to the lovely village of  Lignieres, Cher is over for good.  It just became too difficult to manage the kats, who we love passionately.  

So years have gone by and out of the blue we struck upon an idea...shall we sell the French house or how about giving it to the city?  That was mulled over for a day or two and then it struck us,  we wondered what would it be like for all concerned to GIVE it to our children?  Ash and Andy to be exact.  How would they take this?  A longish phone call later and the words were said.  It felt fine, like a load was taken off of us.  No more 11 hr rides in aircraft,  no more car rentals and dreary, difficult driving to Lignieres,  no more house surprises.  All of that and they get a new roof on it and the barn.

No "Center Of France" for us...

 We are under quarantine,  albeit not fully but still...and that IS what we are, still.  

Today I received my King Arthur 50lb (ca. 23 kg) of   flour.  I go through about 3 bags a year, mostly doing semi-daily bread baking.  It's cheaper this way, getting it from Amazon with no shipping charges.  I also ordered a protein order from Wild Fork Foods.  I was really impressed last month with the items I chose.  The prices are good and the quality of each was wonderful.  I noticed that the Turkey supply was skimpy,  Thanksgiving is two days away.  

We are traveling to Merced County this year to Kelly's cousin's ranch in the foothills below Yosemite.  It's always a joyful visit,  they are warm and interesting people,  she is a secretary at the local middle school and he is a cattle rancher.

None!

 Zero, zilch, zulu for total of Halloween blood suckers!  Not a one!  WTF!  Lazy? sick? stupid? scared? No calendar?  I don't get it, small showing or performance equals rare free gift of sweet things? Seems pretty fair to us, yet...zilch!  Off to bed at 8:30

Halloween 2022

Halloween tonight, kiddies and adults all masqueraded up and demanding as hell will fill the earlier nighttime hours.  We bought a small 4lb (1.81 kg) bag of miscellaneous candy for the purpose.  We ran out last year!  That's not fun!  

The election is next Tuesday, we've already voted via mail as per usual.  Republicans don't have much of a chance here in California, but several mid-western and eastern state's Republicans will challenge the current Senate and House seats and very well could win them. Cloudy and gray day and tonight, storm's a comin' but not until tomorrow morning.  Visits of halloween kiddies and adults all masqueraded up and demanding as hell will fill the earlier nighttime hours.  We bought a small 4lb (1.81 kg) bag of miscellaneous candy for the purpose.  We ran out last year!  That's not fun!  

The election is next Tuesday, we've already voted via mail as per usual.  Republicans don't have much of a chance here in California, but numerous mid-western and eastern state's Republicans will challenge the current Senate and House seats and very well could win them.

Three In A Row...

 Yes, indeed!  Three times in the last three days I've taken time to write something.  Somehow it has happened, and I am feeling glad for it.  These days are full of concerning news, Covid-19 and the new variants,  the damned war in Ukraine, why my children (with one exception) have abandoned us, the continued drought and other trivial matters as they occur.  Should I take them one at a time?  

But, but what about France, our home (part time) and the challenge of going this next year.  Parts of this story are duplicated earlier in this blog but in case you have not been so edified here goes.  

We bought, with our late friend Ted Berry, a small 1000 sq. ft. farmhouse on the eastern edge of the market village of Lignieres, Cher. We filled it with the appropriate furnishings and decorated as per cultural norms.  All of this over a period of 4 plus yearly excursions of up to 6 month lengths.  Yes, yes we know about the 3-month limit, but as we had become fixtures in the local scene it felt almost comfortable and thus legal.  Some trials and tribulations of that early expedition led us, actually Kelly, to desire a larger facility to continue our French experiment-in-living.  That and the damned truck exhaust relative to the stop sign and traffic backup thusly produced.  So in 2005 we bought the grand maison du bourg (large house of the city).  She has 2400 sq. ft on two floors and a 1200 sq. ft. attic.  

2nd Printing...

 Yes, writing two days in a row for the first time since I don't know when.  Not typical at all.  Today felt almost like a winter's day, clouds aplenty, gray and flat.  Chilly and humid.  Up, I made the morning coffee and kissed Kelly as she yawned.  Drank the coffee, ate a bowl of Post Raisin Bran as did Kelly and after, rotated to the parlor to read the news and write this blog entry.

Cats, Mucca and Cara are still “at it”.  Hourly fights and runs at each other as the opportunity arises.  Strange to have these twins (same birthday) fighting after so many years of quiet activities.  I expect it when Audrey comes, just another person here to change the balance.  Can't say anything is different for them now, we are home for long hours. There are other cats in the yard that they don't interface with, oh they watch them through the windows or the screen door, but that is all.  I think it is done to get OUR attention and nothing else. Today's battle gave her a wound on her right cheek.  He is unscratched. Seems unfair.

 Being “back” meant nothing to me apparently as I wrote nothing for months afterwards.  Mere thoughtlessness was upon me.  What to write?  About what?  Anything at all important?  In the time since I've not even clicked on the Blogger.com icon to bring this page to me.  Lazy? Sure, but that's not all.  Getting older matters, and it matters a lot.  I'm 79 years old and suffering through some loss of acuity and “brain fog”.  

The Damned Pandemic

That is what it is,  damned.  We have been through nearly 3 years of Covid-19, and we are still alive and have never had any symptoms of it.  The vaccines have been taken as they were introduced and made available at Kaiser.  Masks have been worn anytime we thought there would be a crowd or a situation where we would be less than safe.  We wear them at times, almost to a fault.  

We have missed our annual trips to Lignieres, France, as we had been going there every year since 2001.  3 years without the France experience is more than a bit too long.  Our home there will be mice infested, spiderweb strewn and dusty like Aunt Betty's attic.  We will be cleaning for weeks!  Worse yet is our car will be illegal to operate until it is given a “Controle' Technique”.  

Too, we will be limited in visit time without a visa.   Three month limit is strictly enforced.  That makes for a very busy and less enjoyable overall experience.  Lots to do and in less time to do it.

My son Michael, his wife, Sam, and their girl child Amelia aka Mimi have gotten the dreaded Covid-19.  Aimee, Joe, Mac, Kaylee all got it.  Our eastern-based component the Peelers,  Andy, and our daughter Ashley escaped its clutches.  Audrey in Phoenix stayed safe as well.

Bye for now!

I'm BAACK! Getting nowhere fast!

 Yes, today is the 30th of May, 2022.  What the hell have I been doing,  not much in my own opinion.  Not sick with Covid 19 but ill in some other ways.  Weary, tired with a little boredom thrown into the mix.  I itch today, not a s much as yesterday or the awful itchy day before.  Cat Fleas!  Damn it, little red bite locations on my arms a few scattered around on me wherever the little bastards decided.  Flushed my face and arms a bright pink.  Awful!  

Gotta bake some bread today.  Simple task using the bread machine.  Loaves have been quite spectacular as of late,  more holes, better crust and BIG!  Actually, in a word...MASSIVE!  I still use the Poolish method.  (https://youtu.be/ikwvnhiR9Vg)  

Audrey left us to our vices last Saturday the 21st.  I really do enjoy her company and she is quite a help around the house.  Cats miss her too,  the jump up on the parlor couch and start sniffing and peering here and there,  nope, no Audrey there.  Then they drift off.  

 Here we are,  hopefully on the Other side of our pandemic.  No longer unable to even visit with our neighbors we feel a bit FREE!  Just a bit though we did go to Chris's Club in Vallejo last Sunday for a fill of the Blues.  Many of the "regulars" made their appearance too.  It was thrilling!  

Our journey to France is, alas, not happening again this year.  Not enough people want to come to the US from Charles De Gaule.  So we try to relax but don't.  We miss Lignieres is the long and short of our misery.  We had reservations for earlier in 2020 spring but with the pandemic rife throughout the EU no flights were available.  We set our minds to travel this (2021) year but that now looks impossible as well.                                                     

UPDATE!

Filed for a return of our ticket funds from gool ol' United for the flights that we had to cancel because of France's closing of it's borders due to the pandemic.  Sooo in a feeling of decision-making I discovered in Flightradar24 under the heading "Flights" that there IS a Direct flight on BOTH Air France and Delta!    So checking the price for this new discovery it seemed a reasonable amount...so I booked it!  It turns out that the flight is a duo of BOTH Air France AND Delta...with pricing for the seats up to AF!  Seats in Coach were 56 USD each!  So the fare for both of us is 2800USD!  The Kats add another 800USD to sit under a seat for the better part of 12 hours!

Back In The USA...Oh Joy...

Here we find ourselves among friends and neighbors who speak English!  To finally be understood again!  Dead cars parked where they were when we left with one difference,  1 1/2 dead batteries, the Ford truck's was still alive, it started; alas the Prius' battery was so much lead and acid and no juice whatsoever.  It took a charge, enough to run our Cordelia Road a bit and circle around to come in Suisun's front door on Main Street but the next morning it was flat as an unleavened pancake once again. Shit, shit, shit!  Went to Auto Zone and picked up a motorcycle battery for 47 bucks and installed it sorta, bad practice but it starts and runs as it should, no check engine lights and red triangles.

Kelly, dear wife is down...her back is fucked, lower lumbar pain.  Off to Kaiser Monday morning. new doc, cute little Asian princess, smart as a whip and actually listens, asks questions and pays attention to your responses.  I'm impressed with her.  Orders multiple tests which we get the results to in about 2 hours!  Things I've never heard of...and they point  to kidney and liver disease, no surprise there, we're Lutes and Adams's.   All those years of drink have done there best to kill us off.  We halted all booze for a year and a half and only recently had added wine back to our diet, albeit intermittently only.  Guilt.  But the lump that is Mucca-Kat at 17 Plus lbs. was the start of her misery about 2 weeks ago.  Then there was the damned fall inside the train that bruised her beyond belief, big purple bruises, lucky she didn't break some bones! 

Needless to say her back has not been the same since!  Anyway, the doc ordered some powerful NSAIDS and a legion of those kidney function tests.  We are studying the results.

Some photos from France trip 2019:

September the First!!

A Sunday, cloudy, coolish (different from warmish) and all is as well as can be expected. Plans, not many, if any at all except just one; cook the 1/2 roti veal tough-as-nails for however long it takes using the braising method. Braised then in a porridge of pureed pineapple and smoked chipotle peppers. It sounds right and the gods know that the braise will take hours, even though the 1/2 roti veal tough-as-nails will resist. After properly reduced to strings to be pulled apart and placed into tortillas for pulled veal enchiladas! A fine cooking exercise for a Sunday 1st day of September. Oh, this veal roti was assembled at our local grocery store C undoubtedly from the Charolais breed of cattle. Huge animals they have a reputation for....strength of their meat. Oft times the females when finished with their milking capability are turned into steaks, chops and very lean 5% fat hamburger.
Kelly has recovered from her journey home through the chunnel.  I'm glad she's back!  I need the companionship for sure and I'm happy she and Audrey had a good time exploring London.  They visited the British Museum and the V&A as well,  plus ate all the expected vittles, fish and chips, pork pie, bubble and squeak and more.  Audrey returned to the US on Friday.

Well, about the potential Portugal trip; I don't think we're going this year.  It's 10 days to explore the local environs, drive to lesser known villages, ogle the unknown countryside and repair the car.  Headlights on passenger side have died, I have to sort out the disassembly and the build types and obtain them from who knows.  I want to replace the circuitous belt too, with 120,000 miles on the old machine it's about time, it squeaks now and it shouldn't.  So much for Portugal. 

And the rain showers have begun.  Not a downpour, just a trickle for the herbs.  

August 2019 is here...

In F-r-a-n-c-e for the 27th time think I.  Nice as ever, the people that is.  The weather, no...the climate has changed over the last while, like 15 years or so.  Warmth of a higher magnitude that used to make up the period between June through September is now the rule.  Two canicules (French heat wave) this year, like 2005's but lasting over a week each time, heat waves that warm the house until three shower days become the norm.  The cats will not sleep with us, instead they lolly-gag about and spread themselves out full length on whatever spot they can find that is cooler than the rest of the house.  The 3rd floor is a never-never land the whole three to four months. Any temp above 85, along with humidity above 60% and we are through with activities outside.  Just touching becomes uncomfortable after a few seconds.  It's a pseudo-Phoenix summer.

Beyond that, our major project, the Courtyard Jungle, is progressing nicely as we now are paying a gardener-of-high-repute for his services attacking the mess.  His name is Sebastian, he speaks little English, but he works, works, works.  The results each day that he comes continue to amaze.  He is now attacking the former pigpen as we named it, totally over-grown with weeds, 1/3rd grown trees, ivy and dandilions.  He's about a 1/3rd of the way with it.  We now have 3 huge piles of debris that has to get outa here before he returns as he cannot put the material in any of the "too full" bags.  We pay him 20 Euros per hour of labor, fair to us.  We haven't planted any of the now ready plots as no plants will take well the current sunny, hot weather.  After mid-September perhaps.  

Kelly is off to celebrate Audrey's 50th B-Day, Yippee for her!  They'll have a ball together in the Big City.  Eat pork pies, bubble and squeek, drink a pint of Queen's Ale, yeah, it's London-town days for them.  I will stay home and Kat-sit, feed 'em, watch 'em as they watch me.  Who is sitting who?  Empty litter boxes too, me, not them.  They just fill them.

Here are a few pictures for you:

The Joys of Senior Years

 My "joy" these last few weeks has been intensely personal.  That aneurism in my gut came under scrutiny last spring just before we wandered off to Lignieres for the late spring, summer and a bit of fall.  They firstly greased me up and ultrasonically scanned my belly for the enlarged artery (the aorta) and at the same time my kidneys.  Then off I was sent to get an MRI...but wait!  I was leaving the country on Tuesday and the appointment was scheduled for Wednesday with no other times available before we wandered off.  So, I breathed a deep breath, asked Kelly what she thought and we left as scheduled on the big silver bird.

 Our time in France was filled with Ted, Ashley and Andy and Audrey, not at the same time!  Ash and Andy worked their asses off in the courtyard laying in yet another 2 cu/meters of fine Loire gravel.  I just watched in awe and cooked to keep them fed.  The weather was typical French, warm and humid, the house was cool however, so respite was available for them as they worked.  They stayed 2 weeks and then were gone and the place became very quiet again.

 Ted came a few weeks later, we drove here and there visiting sights and churches, Bourges cathedral and had a jolly good time with him.  Lots of time inside our parlor avoiding the summer canicule (hot days) reading and chatting away the afternoons. Ted, always ready to travel somewhere, found himself somewhat thwarted by his frailty and difficulty in walking.  He stayed with us about 10 days then ran off to visit a friend in Paris and flew home from there.

 In late September Audrey came and stayed 'til early October.  We took her to experience Guédelon Castle, an archeological building project about 2 hours northeast of Lignieres.  It is an amazing scene.  People in period clothes (13th century!) using hand tools made by themselves and with methods as were used in those days are constructing a full sized castle!  A stunning achievement, we've visited it 4 times over the years.  Here's a link for you:  Guedelon Castle.  If you come to France it is a place not to miss.

Out To Sea

 "Call me Tony," he said as we walked by the boats busy with men loading supplies and gear.  I saw up ahead "Arlene S." painted in big block letters on her white hull.  Groceries, fishing poles and other gear was being loaded onto her and stowed here and there.

She was about 50 feet long and stoutly built.  Her hull shined with a new coat of white paint.  I stopped at her berth for a few minutes, and watched the guys load.  Finally Tony said, " Hey guys, this is Howard,  Anne's son, I fetched him from Frankie for the day,"  I smiled and waved hello, they reached out to shake my hand and said,"welcome aboard!"  I replied, "I'm happy to be here," and I was!  I threw down my coat and began helping the men stash the stuff in the wheelhouse and down below where there were others doing the same things.  There was little grumbling, they worked quickly to unpack.  I went back topside to help.

On the aft deck, there were boxes of large chrome plated hooks being opened by a dark-skinned guy, he looked up at me, "I'm Benny," he said.  Alongside him, another man, who just grunted to me, was tieing leaders to the same hooks looped them into a circle and placing them neatly in another bin.  I felt useless among these experienced fishermen.

Soon Benny took me forward towards the bow amidst the fishermen was the owner, the captain.  He was holding a chart and outlining his plan for the hunt.  We were going after Albacore tuna on a trip of, for me, an unknown length.  After a few minutes to captain "Alonzo" looked at me and said, " your going to be our new baitboy, are you?"  "I guess so, yes sir!" "Once we get underway one of the guys will show you what to do."  I'd been accepted and now a member of the good crew of Arlene S.

"I Smell Fish!"

Was the first thing out of my mouth.  Bud had me up early, I mean early.  4am early!  I tore off the tags and labels then slipped on this new pair of jeans my Mom bought me yesterday along with one of Bud's old denim shirts and I was set. These were now my "old" clothes or soon would be!  Out the door we went, into his old Chevy pickup and away we went.  About 15 minutes later we arrived at the Italian fishing fleet off the main drag in San Diego.

The Fleet at rest

The smell of less than fresh fish wafted our way as we walked down the dock.  Many boat slips were empty, their owners and crews had already left though it was only 5am.  The sun hadn't risen yet and here I was being introduced to an old man on a small fishing boat with a mop in his hand.  "Here", "take it," he said, thrusting the mop my way.  "He's your new boss," Bud replied, "Do what he says and you'll be fine, won't he Frankie?"  Frankie replied,"I hope so."  They chatted a while about how the catch was going this season and soon Bud said, "I'm going to go now, you've got our number, call when you're done."  I nodded that I understood and he walked away down the dock towards his truck.  "Where should I start?" I asked and Frankie pointed towards the bow. "Get a bucket, put some soap and bleach in it, not too much,"  pointing at the cabin, "You'll find 'em in there, under the sink.

So here I was cleaning the boat, "learning" in reality as Frankie had his own way to do everything and that was the way it was going to be done.  His was a bait boat, anchovie catcher with big tanks for the catch and a netting rig to get 'em up and into those tanks.  Thousands of them at a time.  These, in turn, were sold to outgoing tuna boats that did line catching, mostly for "Big Eye" and albacore but yellowtail at times too.  The cleanliness fetish was because the anchovies would shed scales and also get crushed underfoot as well and with a bit of summer heat, oh how the boat smelled!  So cleaning was a constant chore, rinse, scrub, soap it down, scrub some more, rinse and do that stem to stern three times every day after a bait run.  I began going out on his bait netting runs after about a week (him seeing if I would last, which I did).  I liked going out and doing the catching, helping with the nets, filling the tanks with fish and tending the screen filters for the pumps that fed the tanks.

One day just after I had arrived at 2am sharp,  a bearded man approached the boat and I looked up at him.  "You the Lute boy?" he asked. "Yes sir," I answered, "Bud said you'd be here at Frankie's boat," he hesitated a second then, " Need a bait-boy on the Arlene S., you up for it?"  I didn't think a second, "Sure am, but I've got to finish the cleaning here first."  Frankie stepped out of the wheelhouse, "Go ahead Howard, I'll finish the cleaning."   I grabbed my coat, put it on and climbed the step ladder to the dock.  I was about to go fishing out on the blue Pacific!

Work? Doing What?!

It was late May 1959, yes I had split knowing full well I was missing the last three weeks of school and would have to make it up.  I sat in the car and listened to the radio until I saw a little red Pontiac pulled up at the curb, my mom got out and walked towards the stairs, I climbed out and exclaimed "Mom!"  She turned around, stared for a second and exclaimed, "Howard!"  We held on to each other on the front sidewalk and kissed.  We went upstairs to sit and chat and for me to explain what had happened to bring me to run away from Selma, school and Hazel (last but not least).

Hazel, my grandmother, had agreed to take me in when my mother and father got a divorce after some 10 years of marriage. I was nearly 8 years old in June of 1951 when I and my mom came to Hazel and Harold's farmhouse a couple of miles north of the little town of Selma, California.  Then she left for San Diego.  I missed her so badly for some months that I cried myself to sleep each night and mourned her quick smile and laugh each day.  I developed anorexia in 1962, lost much weight and found it hard to keep anything down in spite of Hazel's excellent home cooking.  My trial by starvation lasted thru 1963.  In November she took me to our family doctor who sent us onto a psychiatrist in Fresno who knew the magic and over a long while finally, I could eat, I was 10 years old and weighed 55lbs, the skinniest kid in school.

We lived for three years on the ranch until Kermit, my step-great-grandfather by Harold died at 94 years of age.  The ranch was soon sold and they bought a house on "E" Street in town.  Harold worked at Libby, McNeil, and Libby, a canning plant as an electrician.  Hazel became sick after a time.  A cancer of some deadly kind had taken root and the illness and the side-effects of the drug therapy took ill of our relationship.  She became angry and stern of me and my misdeeds as I grew older.  She hurled anger and hairbrushes at me with great regularity and threatened many times to send me to my mother.  I grew to resent her, talked back, and we argued constantly in a war of words as I entered my teen years in 1956.  My grades, previously exceptional were beginning to drop precipitously.  Harold had his own troubles and remained distant and unconcerned at either my problems or her's with me.  I was alone.

Now I was in San Diego and they wondered of me and the situation that they were in as well as my own.  I spent days reading fishing magazines and whatever other reading materials there were.  My mom began coming home at noon to check on me and make me lunch, something Italian or Greek.  Her last name now was Swanner, her husbands family name.  She called him "Bud".  I got along with him less well than I would have liked.  He was abrupt with me and I paid particular attention to not being messy about the house and cleaning up after myself...thoroughly.  The house had a spacious veranda off the living room that gave a great view of the runways at San Diego International.  Airplanes often flew over the house when landing and it was a thrilling sight.  I would sit for hours and watch the action at the airport and watch the aircraft as they headed for their landings.  I had been there a week when one morning as Bud was drinking his coffee he asked me if I'd like to work and make a little money.  I said, "sure!". He was pleased with my answer and said he'd take me to "the docks" the next day and to wear "old clothes" (of which I had none!).

Another Work...

How I drove through Los Angeles traffic on THOSE "freeways" I'll never know!  I was a VERY inexperienced driver, not yet 16, and had driven few vehicles, none of them stolen, gulp!  I'd driven Harold's old Ford Pickup, a Ford farm tractor and a couple of my friend's cars now and then but never a lot of miles and NEVER in hostile traffic!  This WAS "hostile traffic".  I had a rather old California map and had planned the route in my head in the days proceeding my great escape, but when confronted with the LA freeway system I was confused and at times lost.  As I gained on my goal of San Diego I checked my gas guage, it was near empty and I began looking for a gas station just off the freeway with an off-ramp nearby.  I had but 10 dollars, more than enough to fill the Buick's 20 gallon tank.

OMG!

I saw a Texaco sign in the line of an upcoming off-ramp and moved over and made my way to the station.  Since I had stolen the car from my dad I somewhat feared of being caught.  The car WAS Pink and White after all.  Filled up I looked and found an on-ramp and I was on my way again.  San Diego was less than 2 hours away and I knew nothing of my mother's abode, I had never been there!  I had an address though for I had written her many times over the ensuing years, but her replies were few and far between.  As it turned out she had written and mailed letters to me but for reasons I can only surmise, Hazel hid them from me.  None-the-less I had an address, hoped it was accurate and drove on into the morning light.  San Diego was close now, about 2 hours away!

Closer I drew, all my thoughts were of my mother and how long it had been since I even talked to her.  The last time I held her hand was in 1951 when I was almost 8 years old.  Now I was almost 16.

The morning traffic was similar to LA's but fewer jams and less crowded as well.  I pulled off the highway near the airport and went uphill towards where I had the address, the area called "Banker's Hill" and "Prado Terrace".  Up and down the streets I went looking for somewhere where the airport runway was lined up with it.  I had known this hint from what my mother had said to me a long time ago.  It didn't take me too long and I found myself outside a two story apartment building, all white stucco with a red tile roof in a Spanish style so typical of San Diego.  I checked the address I had and it matched!  As I walked quickly towards the stairs a large 4 engine airliner flew overhead, engines roaring and backfiring as it flew towards the airport runway, I was there!  

More Jobs in...

I let the work life rest.  It was early May with 6 weeks of school left.  I was 15 1/2 yrs old and thoroughly fed up with it.  My grades had dropped back to a D average and I was flat out flunking in English, Spanish and doing "D work" in everything else except my Shop class.  Lazy and friends that were of similar mind and condition, maybe not as awful but still had a big dislike of SUHS.  Hazel was on my ass too and Harold was working so I had no protector.  So one particular late night I summoned up my anger and angst.   Just past midnight I  grabbed Hazel's keys, removed the key for the Buick, packed a few changes of clothes, robbed her purse of $10 and left for San Diego and my mother.  Hazel had been sound asleep in the lounge chair in the TV room, Harold was asleep too so I was free to go, and go I did!  The year was 1960 and gas was about 30 cents a gallon.  The Buick was never empty as it was needed to take Hazel to the hospital when she had a crisis or a cigarette need.  I dared not fuel up in Selma or Kingsburg as everyone about the town recognized the pink and white 1956 2Dr Buick Century of Hazel and Harold Petersen.  So down Highway 99 South I went towards San Diego and relief from Hazel's yelling, my bad grades and the gang of fellas I was hanging with in those days.  I kept my speed to 55 to avoid being harried by the CHP or local police and finally stopped in Bakersfield to fill up.  Bakersfeild was 90 miles or so from Selma and at the foot of the "Grapevine" as it  was called leading to Los Angeles.

Grapevine Hwy 99 

 The Grapevine was a terror for both cars and trucks, the long, steep curvy roadway caused many an accident and deaths over the years.  After filling up I set out climbing the Grapevine behind a long line of semi-trucks as I had little experience on hills as it was and with the sun coming up over the hills I was blinded now and again, behind the trucks was shadow and relative safety at 35 mph!

Jobs, More Jobs...

Hazel was always supportive of my working outside our home.  She was a hardworker herself as was Harold.  She worked at a large packing house between Selma and Reedley where she was their bookkeeper.  She had worked there many harvest seasons and sometimes even during the off year time.
She liked the work and the people.  The job made her feel useful, even knowing she had the dreaded cancer doing it's best to kill her.  During those years she was off and on in the hospital and had many operations to clear out the latest tumors or adhesions.  She struggled with her illness and slowly lost more and more weight and stamina.  It was terrible to live through. Terrible to witness day by day.  Harold worked as many hours as he could at Libby, McNeil and Libby as the head electrician to support us and pay off the ever looming medical bills for Hazel's treatments.  He escaped much of the woe that was Hazel's life but he tirelessly worked and kept his humor up.

Fruitvale Elementary School

I filled out the application for the job at Woolworths and returned it through their mailslot on Monday before school.  It's all I could think about during my classes that day.  After school I rode back to Woolworths and greeted the manager.  She said she liked the application and wanted me to start the very next day!  I was elated!  Starting pay was $1.65/hr and I'd work 4pm - 6:30pm Monday thru Friday with my weekends off.  I'd be making more that at the pharmacy and no Saturdays, terrific!  I could go to the movies or run around with my buddies.

Selma High School, Science Building 1958

The work was easy if repetitive.  Neaten all shelves, put the correct things in the correct locations, price everything as it was put out and open the large shipping boxes and stack them in the large warehouse room in the back of the store.  The cashier, Mary, was nice and easy to get along with and helped me with prices when the manager was unavailable...on a smoke break or chatting with her friends or the owner on her office phone.  The worst part of the job was the monthly inventory which always tookplace on the last Saturday of the month.  The mechandise was soupto nuts, hundreds of items and, sometimeshundreds to count of each one!  It lso made for one very long Saturday, typically we worked to get it all done by 7or 7:30 but there were times, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years when big shipments came in and it took until 8 or 9pm to complete the counts.  I liked working there, it was clean, cool in warm weather (it had Air Conditioning!) and the manager was good to her employees.  I got laid off just after the last Saturday following Easter.  I couldn't escape that last inventory!