I was just getting to sleep when I woke up with one of those "Linda Blair” leg cramps. It hits at the ankle and tries to twist your foot off. (Go watch "The Exorcist".) I’ve learned that it means there’s too little calcium in my diet - too late to fix that now. But sitting up and rubbing it for a while usually takes away the need to twist itself, so long as I’m careful not to stretch the muscles getting back into bed.
The noise levels outside were relentless. The walls here are paper thin. I heard everything outside, next door in either direction, and across the back wall since the rooms all join with no center isle, just outside doors. The upstairs residents were stomping around so late and started again so early I wondered if they might be vampires, a silly train of thought that led to other more realistic worries about possible safety issues.
I woke again at 2:30. Not because I was refreshed and the time zone change gave me an extra hour, but I was freezing. So was the dog! I decided to do two things. First, add a whole second layer of clothes and flip the two scratchy bath towels over the sheet - yes, seriously, no blanket in the room - so I could huddle under it, but before that I decided to see if I could nudge any heat from the wall unit. Somewhere all the words or symbols or whatever it started out with had been rubbed off or peeled off or…. When I'd arrived in the room, the temperature was comfortable so I hadn't bothered to mess with their system. There'd been other issues.
If there is a heat setting on the thing, I couldn’t find it even with the lights on. As soon as I crawled under the sheets/towels, Heather Too joined me, snuggling down around my shins, the one place I had no clothing in my room to cover. No, I wasn’t going to head back out to the car where the warm stuff was packed. Why not? By the time I figured out where the good stuff was I’d be wide awake, and the third day of the trip is always the tiredest. That’s why I plan for it to be the shortest.
As I tried to drift off, somebody had loud music going outside. Does nobody in management in this place supervise the guests at all? Then by 4:30 the pipes started making somebody’s-taking-a-bath noises. But by then I was in full cranky stubborn mode. I refused to get up until all the different noises combined together at… let’s see… 5:17. OK, surrender. Maybe an actual nap down the road today, eh?
Oh Gawd! Now I have to repack the whole danged suitcase, don’t I? I pack with jammies and toiletries as the first things I reach. It didn’t help last night (technically this morning) when I ransacked it for any possible warmer, loose second layer. At least there’s still enough warm water to freshen up a bit, make my hair controllable again. I checked out that tub last night and no safety bar, no non-slick bottom, no trust in my safety. Spits and spots it is then, as Mom would say.
But where did all these flies come from?
Once I finally hit the road again, just a hair too early for McDonald's and not willing to wait for it, things started to get better. Put on the motel-doesn't-have-this-either list a coffee pot. The office would have coffee in another hour plus, but I damn sure wasn't waiting around for that. I had light, some classical music on the radio (for what only turned out to be the next 20 miles) and I was getting outta there ASAP! Who knows? A nap later? More caffeine? Just anywhere else but here! I poured my coffee fixins in a bottle of water, shook it, loaded the car, emptied the dog, and fled.
By the way, here's another "hack" I like when traveling. I save those paper coffee cups after the coffee is gone. Their next use is pouring gorp in, setting in the center cup folder, making it easily reachable to tip some into my mouth and put back without taking my eyes off the road. If something drops, pick it up later. Somewhere in the day there will be an accumulated napkin, or just a whole collection of such in the door pocket. One goes into the now empty cup and its lid goes back on. It's final use is to be in my hand when I'm walking the dog. Should she leave the kind of mess that needs picking up, off the lid goes, napkin surrounds the turds, they go into the cup, and cup with lid goes into any waste receptacle.
As soon as I hit Arizona there were lit signboards along the freeway, regularly warning of very heavy and slow traffic at mile #205. Expect long delays. After comparing those signs with standard signs giving miles to (insert next two towns here) and Flagstaff, I figured mile 205 must be just this side of Flag. I can navigate parts of the area, but I'd be stuck in the long lineup with everybody else. It was time for that alternate route we'd talked about several times but never taken. It cuts off at Winslow and angles southwest to Camp Verde. Consulting a map, I figured out what to look for and approximately how far between road changes, and exited.
After a bit, I was in beautiful country! I'd gone from blah to juniper forest to tall pines and high elevation. Sure, some places it was twisty mountain driving, but almost no traffic the whole way, just exquisite scenery and peace. I can see why parts of this are the go-to summer heat getaway for a lot of Phoenix folk. Unfortunately, much as I'd love to show Steve all of this, and regret not taking it on any earlier trip, it's bumpy as hell in places, and each bump reminded me of an opportunity lost. And no, very few places where it might have been possible to pull off the road safely for a shot or 85 so I could show him later.
I arrived home at 2:30, finding the expected and the unexpected. Rich was there as requested to help unload the car, turn back on the electricity (tricky breaker box cover) and assist with whatever. His spider bites are ugly as hell but he insists they are healing. He also showed me the two newest ones.
You know how we say "it's a dry heat"? Yeah, not right now. There's finally a real monsoon season after two years without, so humidity is up. Yes, I packed one of those bandanas I've been wearing on my head up north while working. It would sure be useful now. I expect it will turn up somewhere by the time I've done the unpacking and all the other work. And there is a ton of other work. Little spills that were ignored because they might have been fairly clear or at least blended in with the surface when made have oxidized. Brown and black spots, splats, and splashes everywhere you look, a trail from kitchen to living room where somebody carries in food and beverage, somehow oxidized black instead of brown. All the predictable spots cover the kitchen floor, but unexpectedly cover the sink and new countertops as well. Fortunately, the new counters are new enough that nothing sticks, just wipes off easily.
HOWEVER....
The sinks' bottoms are covered in black goo, not just a film but solid goo. It gets worse when Rich informs me that somebody was doing a sewer project in the neighborhood and "stuff" backed up in the plumbing. This includes the kitchen sinks, and one bathroom's sink and toilet. In addition, the pipes so "blessed" are somewhat plugged up. Three flushes later removes all but what's coating the inside of the toilet bowl and needs bleach and a brush to clean. Rich managed to unplug the bathroom sink pipe so it finally drains. Somehow the black goo didn't quite reach the inside of that sink, unlike the kitchen. Not sure I'm ready to try the shower! Numerous paper towels remove the worst from the kitchen, followed by soap and scrubbing pads, soap and rinsing, followed by a final hands wash. Of course this gets done without my glasses because so much salt sweat has dripped on them that they're useless till cleaned themselves.
I'm relieved that there is enough travel food left that I can postpone much more kitchen cleaning. It turns out we left without cleaning the inside of the refrigerator. Besides, I promised Rich I'd treat him to supper at the fast food joint of his choice tonight. The microwave will have to do for anything else getting cooked because I still can't get through to the gas company to order getting that turned on again. I'm OK with that. I'm finally ready to wait the 40 minutes or whatever it will be this time I start the call to get it scheduled. Something about unusually high call volume. Can't do it on the road. My phone is on the charger as I type. The weather keeps showers comfortable enough since ground temperature these days is hot and the pipes are shallow - or running through the attic. There is no such thing as cold water, unless it comes out of the fridge/freezer. So, gas can wait.
There were other unpleasant things to return home to. A couple of pictures fell off the wall. The tape holding them didn't survive the heat, as Rich insisted it would, and we don't use nails in a house not built with standard current building specifications, like 16" vertical stud centers. Or just all vertical studs!!! Or even 2x4 studs! Apparently they weren't needed to space between concrete block walls and whatever board was used on the interior back in 1961. Arizona, doncha know. One picture left glass in shards over a fairly wide area. The AC seems to be taking its own sweet time in cooling down the house. Of course, we made that even more difficult for it when we aired out the house after pulling out the 8 no-pest strips set out to kill multi-legged intruders. Before opening it up, inside was significantly cooler than outside. Outside was 106. Soon inside was as well. Adding ceiling fans helped for comfort. So did remembering to (blush) close that final window an hour after turning the AC on! At least we really got the house aired out, eh?
Then there was getting TV again. First, replace batteries in the remote. Try to remember how this remote works because it's different from Paul's Dish remote. Then encourage the Hopper to do a start-up self check by again disconnecting power for 30 seconds. Then call Dish because all sorts of weird things are happening that I won't take 20 more column inches to describe (you're welcome) that even the tech on the line took 25 minutes to fix. After that, put in an extra timer request to record programs that are finally showing in the program guide half an hour ahead of when they start but with no "I'm going to be recorded" red dot. If you don't tell it to record tonight's showing, it won't, not till tomorrow when it all somehow magically straightens itself out and all the timers are again working. Welcome home!
Batteries also need to be replaced in the living room clock - done - and in one of the smoke alarms down the hall chirping cheerfully every thirty seconds. That battery needs to go on the shopping list. Other clocks get reset, stuff here and there plugged back in.
While we lost a few plants in the yard while we were gone, there were nice surprises as well. The rains have been enough to prompt the desert willow to bloom again! I never thought it bloomed more than once in spring. My San Marcos hibiscus is loaded with blooms, the Mexican bird of paradise likewise, and the ocotillos are positively bushy-looking with all the leaves. I'll have to spend more time out there checking things out, but I'll wait till it's cooler.
Like November.
I'm sure I'll be ready to go outside again by November.
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