Rooms with a View

I must say, if you have to get stuck somewhere while waiting for a new awning for your RV, Phoenix is a great place to be. It took far fewer phone calls to replace the awning than I anticipated: insurance minus deductible will pay for the new awning...and it’s a whopper, coming in at about $2,000.  We figured out what awning we had (not easy to do since the old one was gone with the wind....), found an authorized dealer, and ordered a new one. Now it’s just a matter of waiting for it to be made in Colorado, delivered to Arizona, installed, and Shazam! we will be back on the road (this time with an after-market gadget to bolt the awning to the RV).

First order of business: go see a baseball game.  We were happy to see the Arizona Diamondbacks playing the Pittsburgh Pirates in the really snazzy Chase Stadium with a retractable roof.  Because it was a gorgeous day and only about 85 degrees, the roof was open.  The Diamondbacks pride themselves as being the most fan friendly team in MLB.  I think they would be hard to beat.  Larry, with his camouflage cast atop his scooter, needed handicapped seats.  Not only did we get a personal escort from the parking garage to the ticket counter, but they gave us seats within arm’s reach of the beer concession.  Perfect in every way.

Today, I visited Taliesin West, the winter home of architect Frank Lloyd Wright.  My book club read “Loving Frank” by Nancy Horan.  It’s a great read, and it made me want to learn more about FLW’s work. I don’t think old Frank was the easiest person with whom to live.  He was married three times and, at one point, ran off with the wife of one of his clients.  Nevertheless, he had a huge impact on the way Americans build their homes.  

He coined the term Organic Architecture way back in 1940.  He took his inspiration from nature and saw geometric patterns there.  An example of the way he changed our homes is the foyer.  In Victorian times, the foyer of a home was large and grand.  Doors to sitting rooms closed at the foyer.  FLW’s inspirations had small foyers leading in to large open rooms, just like our open floor plans today.  

I was interested to note that he built his winter home facing southwest for maximum viewing of the sunset. That is, until he returned in for the winter of 1947 and the city had strung power lines across his beautiful view.  He was outraged, and was made even more angry when no one would do anything about it.  He suggested they bury the power lines for the rest of the city, but that idea was ignored.  The ground here is baked to a consistency of cement and it would have taken massive amounts of dynamite to accomplish his request.  In the end, he made modifications to his living room to block the view of the power lines.  In 1951, he connected to the grid and had electricity flowing through the house.

The view of the power lines

Today, as when Taliesin was built, there are students learning the organic philosophy Wright embraced.  Back in the ‘30s, students had to help build the home. The first residents lived in canvas tents.  Those students, in addition to construction, were expected to play a musical instrument (for weekend entertainment), and to serve meals.  In addition to an instrument, students brought a tuxedo or gown. They may have lived in tents, but they still set a formal table.

I can’t imagine what life was like for those early architect students.  They traveled from downtown Phoenix on horseback 30 miles across the most barren of desert landscapes to fulfill the dream of the man they saw as a visionary.  And I can’t help but wonder what all of them, especially Frank Lloyd Wright, would have thought of Chase Stadium with it’s retractable roof.

On a Wing and a Prayer

We spent our last night in San Diego in the best way possible: surrounded by the people who have become our West Coast family.  Our dear friend and priest, Father Nick, even blessed our 5th-wheel home and wished us a safe journey.

Saturday morning we woke up early.  The skies were blue and the torrential rains we experienced on our last day ended, but the strong winds remained.  After completing our handy Exit Check List, we were on our way.  Larry and the 5th-wheel were in front; I followed in my car, Audible book playing away.

We were just 15 miles from where we started when IT happened. The motorized awning that provides shade when we are camping started to unfurl.  It came out timidly at first, like a child sticking her toes in the water.  The water is fine, it might have said. Out it came, like a giant wing to its full 8x12 foot extension.  Since we were traveling 55 miles an hour, it didn’t take long for this giant wing to rip from the body of the RV and wave like a Garrison flag.

What happened next is the way I remember it.  Larry has a different version, but since this is my blog, my story is the one of record.  As soon as my brain computed what was happening, I called Larry and, with extreme calmness, told him the awning had deployed (U.S. Marine speak I learned at Pendleton).  Pull over as soon as possible, I suggested.  Larry made his way to the shoulder, just as we drove past a rock wall that appeared out of no where and gradually rose to approximately 9 feet tall. The arms of the awning skimmed across the top of the wall shearing off highway signs.  Sparks flew and climbing ivy got a buzz cut until the vehicle came to a full stop.

We left my vehicle back about 50 yards from the trailer with the caution lights flashing, called California Highway Patrol, and motioned for passing cars to slow down.  We hadn’t been there for three minutes before  a car pulled over to help.  In the spirit of full disclosure, I must confess I assumed the car pulled over because I was so cute.  The real story was that this very nice man installs RV awnings for a living and knew exactly what had happened and how to get our awning off the wall.  According to him, awnings come off all the time.  News to us.

Anyway, even before the highway patrol arrived, he began sawing off the awning braces.  As soon as the CHP arrived, I got in my car and did what any traumatized person with half a brain would do: I high-tailed it to Starbucks to wait for Larry.  In the time it takes to say “Grande Non-fat Latte” he was off the wall, and we were back to our vagabond ways.  

I guess the moral of the story is be thankful for blessings, because when bad things happen in life, God sends the help you need to get back on course.

Snow at 4,000 ft.
San Diego County

All is Well, Safely Rest...

 As we pulled out of Camp Pendleton this morning, I realized this was our first official goodbye.  I will miss seeing the ocean everyday and I will miss watching the Marines as they train.

For our last night, I wanted to see the Marines take down the flag at the close of the day, so I went to the headquarters building and asked the Officer on Duty what time they hold retreat. 

 He looked at me with a blank face and asked, "What?"

"When is retreat?" I asked again.  

"Ma'am," he said.  "I don't understand what you mean."

I quickly asked, "When are you taking down the flag?"

"Oh," he laughed.  "we call it 'conducting evening colors.'" And as a look of recognition washed over his face, he laughed and said, "'Retreat' is Army speak!  Today colors takes place at 1914 hours. The time changes daily depending on the sunset."

I thanked him for teaching me to speak Marine...and I marveled at the detail and respect paid to such a simple daily task.

There is a structure to the days at Pendleton that I will surely miss.  I loved waking up to a trumpet playing Reveille.  I loved hearing The Star Spangled Banner everyday.  But most of all, I loved hearing Taps played at 10 o'clock every night.  It reminded me of Girl Scout camp and happy, innocent summer nights.  Somehow hearing that song every night made me feel secure and hopeful that this good day had ended, but another good day would follow.

Day is done, gone the sun,

From the lake, from the hill,

From the sky.

All is well, safely rest,

God is nigh.

A Minor Inconvenience

For the past year and a half, Larry has experienced pain in his Achilles Tendon.  The cause turned out to be a bone spur sawing away at the tendon that helps him ride his bike, play a round of golf, and, of course, walk.  As the pain became more unbearable, we sought the expertise of a San Diego surgeon. I made the appointment a year ago in April...before we put the house on the market, before we bought the fifth wheel, before we began our vagabond lifestyle.  It took 7 months to get an appointment, then after a series of tests, another 4 months to get a surgery date.  

On March 5, the deed was finally done.  The damage to the Achilles Tendon was worse than we expected.  The doctor was able to shave off the bone spur, but the entire Achilles Tendon had to be reattached in the process.  The result: an “L” shaped incision, 3 screws holding the tendon in place, and a plaster cast.  The plaster cast lasted 10 days, then was exchanged for a fiberglass cast. The catch: no weight on that leg for 6 weeks.

Crutches were fine for short distances, and for getting in and out of our home, but we quickly saw that a wheelchair was going to keep us from being completely marooned.  I must insert here that Larry has never complained about his plight.  We know this is a small inconvenience, but one that has given us a small glimpse into the world people in wheelchairs face.

Perhaps it’s no surprise that Las Vegas was the most wheelchair friendly place we visited.  After all, they want all their guests to be comfortable and able to drop some money at the tables.  The weekend we visited was spring break, so the average age was about 23.  We only saw one other wheelchair the entire weekend. 

Without a doubt, the hardest place to get into is a public restroom.  The worst by far was at Scripps Green Hospital.  As with many so-called handicap accessible bathrooms, the door is super heavy and unwieldy.  If you manage to keep the door open, there is a maze of trashcans and other obstacles to overcome in a series of hard turns to get to the promised potty.  We also found tough toilets at the Presidential libraries (Nixon and Reagan), restaurants (Ruth’s Crist Steakhouse has its bathrooms upstairs), and shopping malls.  Just because it has the little wheelchair symbol doesn’t mean it’s accessible.

Overall, people have been wonderfully helpful and generous.  Here on Camp Pendleton, Larry ventured out on crutches to  the base exchange in search of batteries (the power went out).  When he was making his way back to the car with his bag full of batteries, the bag broke. Several young Marines came to his aid in picking up the batteries, then offered to do a fireman’s carry and take him to his truck. He declined and made it to the car without further incident.

On Friday, we hit the six week marker.  We hope the doctor will take off the purple cast and give Larry a walking cast.  What a miraculous, wonderful thing to be able to stand up straight and tall with both legs planted on the ground.  Then, the next part of our journey can begin.