From the December Journals

Wed Dec 8, 2010

We have fled again, Maxine and I. The gypsy life.

It was quite a risk, leaving a “safe” place to drive 160 miles to possibly subject myself to another toxic assault on my poor overtaxed system, but it is clearly time to move on.

Maxine is doing much better with the car sickness……she didn’t puke until Landers. I am proud.

The drive was peaceful as I look at the big picture. For some reason life has decided to put me in this place, this Oh so strange place, and as the miles pass by I take in the blue sky and consider the reasons….hmm. I have no answer.

I must phone Louis as I enter 29 Palms so he can guide me in. The last forty five minutes of the drive was spent praying to a God I barely believe in to make this room “safe” for me. One more safe night, please. As Louis guides me in from the main highway….turn left, turn right….. I assess the neighborhood. Poor….not so good. I don’t care. The only consideration is safe air. Will I be able to breathe and not become symptomatic in this room. I really don’t want to sleep in my car.

We land. The Sunnyvale Garden Suites Hotel. Funky, rustic and……kind of in a crappy neighborhood. Louis is there to great me with a big smile. “I see you,…you’re in the white car” he waves me in. “Park right here“.

I immediately recognize the man as a “gentle giant”. He is happy to inform me that his boss gave him permission to upgrade me to a 1 bedroom for the same price as a studio……since I could possibly turn into a long term tenant. They are trying to accommodate me and I am touched. I hope this works. I need a home.

Of course the photos were taken a while ago and it always amazes me the effects of lightning and angle, as I look around, but ascetics are not what I am here for. Perhaps later at some other point in my life I will consider ascetics, but for now that is a luxury un affordable in my new life. I need safe.

Each room has a name…….Cactus…..The Prospector……Split Rock……Tumbleweed………..the gold miner theme.

Louis leads me down a windy brick path with desert/zeroscape on both sides carefully designed by someone artistic who really cares. They have tried to create an atmosphere and the effort is not lost on me. There is a waterfall made out of a wheel barrel and oddball bicycle parts. Somehow it works.

We enter the room and I start sniffing. No offensive odors. That’s good!! This is a one bedroom so when you enter you find yourself in a tiny living room with a kitchenette. To access the bedroom you must walk down a somewhat creepy, unusually long hallway to find yourself in a tiny dark bedroom. No like.....but I’m so busy sniffing that I don’t fully appreciate that fact that I’m getting a 1 bedroom for the price of a studio and Louis is so happy about this fact and believes I should be thrilled. He is a good soul and I know this immediately.

Ok, no smells to mention. Good. Then suddenly the worst thing happens…..I look up and see two different water stains on the ceiling. My heart drops to my stomach. Mold?

“Can I see the studio?” I ask.

Louis opens the door and now I’m sniffing and looking up, down and ALL around. I must look strange. No odor. No water stains. I walk through the room and scan like a dog. Sniff and look….sniff and look, my head bobbing up and down. I check the bathroom. Louis is trying to show me how the heater works but I’m not paying attention.

“I like this room better”

“Ok” he says.

This room is called simply #6, but does not lack any of the charm that the other rooms with *cool* names have so I don‘t feel cheated. With it’s own little path stairway, complete with railroad ties, you get the “crunch crunch” as you walk up to the front door. I feel like I’m in Josh.

It is as clean, as rustic can be. They have tried hard and a lot of effort has gone into this place. Respect.

I unload the car, sniff, sniff. Take Maxine out for a walk….sniff sniff…… I love the weather, I love the air. It is dry. I can heal here?

People on the street say “hello”.

I have my own front porch so I can sit outside if need be. I can open the door AND a window next to my bed for fresh air. This is good.

I drive to the local market…….Pinot Grigio. Before I leave I look around for a corkscrew……ah……they know what they are doing!!

There is a heavy military presence in town and again my pride in my son Jon swells my heart. He was stationed here a few years ago.

Next stop…Subway, always better if it sits awhile. I order the Italian cold cuts.

“Can you add roast beef?” The young man making my sandwich informs me that it will cost extra… a dollar. “Go for it” I say. I‘m craving meat like never before. Next thing I know, I’m joking with him….”add ham too”..…“It’ll be another dollar“……“Go for it, and turkey too“ ……”another dollar’…..”Go for it.”
I have smiled! Interesting.

Back at the Sunnyvale Garden Suites Hotel it is time for a glass of wine. I was kind of hoping that Maxine would have chilled a glass for me but she has issues of her own I guess. She is busy doing her own sniffing and clearly doesn’t care about my libations.

It can not go unnoted that she matches the bedspread beautifully. I think she knows it, by they way she is sprawled out. Is she actually getting use to this crazy new life? Have I somehow awakened the inner gypsy in my dog? We have moved 13 times in less than two months in search of a "safe" place to accommodate my new hypersensitivities.

I sit on the bed. Maxine and I wrestle, cuddle and play. I kiss her belly and survey my surrounding.

I can find inspiration here.