My husband and I discussed this just last week. We both agree that we like mountains and beach for different reasons.
At the beach near the ocean, the sound of the waves crashing on the shoreline is calming and peaceful in a way that causes deep reflection.
The mountains have a way of taking me back to early days of my youth. The smell of dust blowing in the breeze, kicked up into the air from our running around on the dirt roads or walking near the fire pit. The smell of wood and pine from the surrounding trees, as well as the sound of water from the rivers and streams, bring out a feeling of serenity and security. It feels like home. I feel deep gratitude in the mountains for the creation of this earth and the blessing and gift my life is from God. I feel closest to God in the mountains. It’s why I long to go camping in the mountains again, someday….
The song lied. It does rain in Southern California. Last night, it rained hard. Our morning stroll along the bay at 6:30 this morning was cool and cloud-covered. Puddles of water along the edge of the road were evidence of how much rain fell. Benches covered with droplets of water along the walking path were not conducive for resting or sitting to ponder this morning.
No matter the weather here, however, it is better than walking on snow-covered ground up north. In fact, if all of this rain had been snow, we would be shoveling our way out of the parking lot this morning. It’s all a matter of perspective.
Not a single snowflake to be found Not even up close 😀
We spent Tuesday afternoon walking/hiking around Point Loma area. It was low tide, so we could explore areas of the tide pools that are inaccessible at high tide. Our exploration along the paved and unpaved pathways took us past Bergerocactus plants on our way down to play in and around the tide pools. We saw lichen, little hermit crabs, incredible rock formations and, of course, the ocean. These are beautiful creations that we cannot see in the mountainous region where we live. For us, the beauty of this part of the nation is fascinating and impactful to the creative side of our existence.
At one point we decided to hike up to the old lighthouse at Cabrillo. My sister and I were walking along the path leading directly toward the lighthouse, when to the right and up several steps is a building with a recorded looped presentation about the guns that the military used to have in this place years ago. My sister’s husband came out of that building and said he was going to walk up the next set of stairs up to the lookout at the top of the hill. My sister and I decided to walk up behind him instead of continuing down the path we were on. I made it easily up the first set of stairs and nearly to the top of the next set of stairs, when suddenly I felt out of control and the ground was coming up fast. My husband’s phone went flying, as did my readers. I heard a loud “Ouch!” escape my mouth. Then all I could do, after I realized I could still move my right ankle, knee, hip, shoulder, and wrist, was laugh uncontrollably. My sister, who just stood there and watched motionless as my teeth nearly became part of the cement step in front of me, was now bent over laughing with her legs crossed. She said she thought I was joking at first, so she didn’t move to help me.
Joking?! About falling UPSTAIRS, near a cliff?!
Breathless, but not from the hike. Rather, it is from laughing so hard while getting up after falling!
Nope! The pain was proof that I was not kidding around. My knee was becoming the size of a watermelon as we stood there laughing. The remainder of the trek was uneventful, although I did walk with a bit of a limp.
We were able to enjoy the presence of the sun beating down, pouring warmth around us, embracing our feet, and the breeze blowing through our hair while we looked out over San Diego Bay. It was breathtaking, a postcard-worthy moment.
I wish I could have captured the feeling, the warmth of the sun, the coolness of the breeze, and the feeling of smallness and largeness, simultaneously, I experienced as I stood there at the edge of Point Loma taking in the map-like view of the Bay, Shelter Island, North Island, and Coronado. From my perspective the area was overall easier to understand. Just like looking at a map, I could see from above, the size and shape of Shelter Island and it’s proximity to North Island, San Diego proper, and Coronado. It was a fun experience to share with my husband, sister, and brother-in-law.
Old Town
This afternoon, we decided to head to Old Town to do some shopping. None of us had ever been there. Old Town is the oldest city in California. It was fun to see all the old buildings, now converted to commercial shops. It was interesting, yet sad, in a way, to see how commercialized it has obviously become.
While we were wandering from shop to shop, my husband spotted a quaint outdoor Mexican Restaurant called Casa de Reyes. He said he wanted to eat lunch there. That was unusual because he usually does not offer opinions about where or what to eat, unless he is asked specifically what he would like to eat. My sister, her husband, and I were not hungry, yet, but we shared an appetizer and of course downed way too many chips with the delicious salsa that came with the chips. We were happy to have stopped there to eat authentic Mexican Food in Old Town because my husband’s chili relleno and our appetizers were very tasty. I recommend stopping there if you are ever in Old Town in San Diego.
After shopping until we dropped, our brother-in-law brought my husband and me back to the hotel while he and my sister drove over to Seaport Village to do more shopping to find the perfect sweatshirt for my niece.
The Hotel Balcony: My Place of Peaceful Reflection (or not so peaceful with all of the helicopter movement)
I am currently sitting on the balcony outside of our hotel room before sundown, watching and listening to the noise of the military helicopters land on North Island. The sky is gray with cloud cover, the November air, cool and crisp. Most of the people that are walking along the Bay are warmly dressed in long pants and sweatshirts or jackets. I am typing on my laptop in my short sleeves, long pants and flip flops. The speed of my typing is slowing down with the reduction in temperature of my fingers, however. It is getting darker outside. The streetlamps have turned on, the skyscraper buildings across the Bay are beginning to light up and the passing cars on the road in front of our hotel have their headlights on. I can feel the temperature dropping.
Before I head into my hotel room for the night, I will share a few photos from the day… Wait… There goes the Disney Magic Cruise Ship heading out of the Bay toward the ocean. I can’t help but wonder what unique experiences they will have on the ship and at each of their destination stops. We can only guess.
What a beautiful morning for a sidewalk-stroll in the park across from our hotel on Shelter Island! Beams of sunshine from the rising sun dance and sparkle on the calm waters of San Diego Bay. The clear blue skies contradict the forecast of cloudy days the entire week of our stay. Feeling the warmth of the sunshine on my face is refreshing. Breaking through the crispness of the air, which envelopes my body as I push my husband in his wheelchair effortlessly, on our morning walk is invigorating.
This would be a lovely place to live and the tepid weather far healthier for our physical condition. We dream. However, all of our family lives up north in snow country where we are from. My parents, siblings, our children, and our grandchildren surround us. How could we leave? My wandering soul would love to experience all there is to experience in life. Yet, I feel a necessary tethering to those near and dear to my heart. As long as they need us nearby, we will stay up north, and our get-aways will bring us here to southern California for a rejuvenation of our minds and bodies. We can live with that. For now.
After a day of battling traffic on the freeway, following behind my brother-in-law and sister, who were nearly taken out by a pickup pulling a trailer of dune buggies and four-wheelers, and reaching speeds over 100mph, it was a welcome relief when we arrived at our destination in Southern California. My sister, her head leaning out of the car window, stated, “Never traveling here on a Sunday after Thanksgiving ever again. That traffic was horrendous!” I agreed. It felt good to stretch my legs and back, stiff from sitting in the pickup truck so long. Our arrival was about two hours before check-in time, but we were told at the desk one of the rooms would be ready in about 45 mins.
We parked in the same spot as last year. The first slot was available nearest the entrance to our hotel building. Pulling the wheelchair from the back of the truck was a fairly easy feat. The four of us took our first walk across the road over to the pier. I was surprised at how crowded it was with people fishing from the pier, eating at the at the outdoor bistro, walking their animals, etc. Last year there was hardly anyone on the pier when we arrived. The difference probably was the day of the week. This year was a Sunday afternoon. Last year was a Monday evening.
While on the pier, we met a man walking a very spoiled and friendly dog named Spud. His owner, whose name I neglected to ask, was very friendly himself. He offered to let us pet Spud, stating the dog is very friendly and likes to be loved on. I declined due to allergic reactions to animals that have increased over the years. My sister happily pet the pooch, though. Spud was then joyfully on his merry way.
One thing that stands out about this area is how relaxed and friendly everyone is. Is it like that everywhere in San Diego? Or just in the park along the Bay?
Memories / Ghosts of the past
My mind was flooded with memories from our stay here last year. The first impressions are always the strongest when in a new place or meeting someone for the first time or experiencing things not experienced prior to that moment. It was like that for me when searching for seashells on the beach in Corpus Christi, or eating authentic tacos under the hut on the beach in Cozumel, Mexico, or on the sunset whale-watching cruise in San Diego, last year. Have you ever had beef wellington on the Queen Mary off the coast of Los Angeles? Or have you experienced seeing the birth of a grandchild and holding that sweet grandchild when only a few hours old? That is an unforgettable experience for sure. I could go on and on.
Memories from last year are like that for me. It is best described as ghosts floating in and out of my vision and mind with every step I take on these walkways around the hotel and on the island. This year I will add new memories to ones of last year. The activities of today, which will become memories of tomorrow, are important. My husband is planning to show me where he lived and share his memories of time he spent in San Diego while stationed here in the Navy. The view from our hotel balcony is of North Island Naval Base. Watching the naval ships cruise in and out of San Diego Bay, seeing the fighter jets take off, and hearing the noise of the afterburners, awakens the ghosts of his past for my husband. We are looking forward to revisiting and sharing his memories in the coming days.
Jared is intelligent and educated… outside of Utah. Give him a listen.
Actually, I often forget to listen to podcasts. Plus, time is not most plentiful in my life these days. Working full-time, spending quality time with my husband every day, cooking, cleaning, extended family time, counseling appointments to prove to myself the insanity of life has not taken me down yet, and throwing in a blog reading and post now and then takes up plenty of time.
When I am cooking or cleaning and feel like seriously learning, those are the times I listen to podcasts. If not in the mood for listening to talk, I like to “move it, move it” to Zumba music or crank up Miranda Lambert. Or when chilling and journaling by the fireplace, slow it down a bit with Macy Gray or the jazzy voice of Emma Nissen.
Whether you listen to a podcast or your favorite music, make it a great day!!
Years ago, my husband and I received a lump sum of money that, if we had invested, would be worth a lot of money today. I could probably retire early! But, no. We were young and ridiculously irresponsible. We bought a car. Not a good investment. Cars depreciate.
Did you know that, today, you can purchase a 1 year Certificate of Deposit for around 5% return in one year. So, if you purchase a CD for 50k, your return would be over $200 per month or about $2500 per year. If you had $100k to invest, the roi would be twice that amount. I am sure there are places to invest that kind of money that would get even higher returns. CD’s are low to no risk.
I use an Edward Jones investor who is able to give the best advice on investing and diversifying based on my risk comfort level.
My son-in-law and his mom are attending an event with Kris Krohn (google search his name). He has several investment opportunities that I am exploring and considering. Not sure I want to be that risky at my age.
Geocaching is something new to me that I only recently learned about. My daughter and son-in-law found one when out hiking an easy trail while out camping near a lake last year.
This week, a friend was talking about her husband and that he likes to hunt for geocaches. He has been involved with this hobby for many years. She expressed a bit of frustration when sharing with me that he is a top geocacher. He has found at least 50,000 geocaches! Fifty thousand! That is a lot of time spent outdoors searching for a small box with or without some tiny trinket or toy, as well as a pen or pencil and paper on which to leave a signature, as proof of his discovery.
The geocacher’s wife, said he walks with arm crutches. He has multiple cancers he is fighting. He has had all of the treatments available for his cancers. Now it’s a matter of time. Agent orange. Like covid, it is a thief.
Our patient worries about him out there searching for these geocaches. Alone. She wishes he would spend more time at home doing things that “matter.” I thought about all of the time effort and money he has spent on doing this hobby of searching for boxes with notepads where he has left his signature over 50 thousand times. My guess is, he has had some interesting moments out there by himself or with a buddy hiking in the outdoors, maybe appreciating God’s creations along the way. Journaling or blogging would have been a great place for him to share his ponderings and experiences.
I wonder if his wife ever went with him. I wonder if he every invited her to go along. They could have shared some wonderful moments of conversation, candid photos, and laughing together. Did I mention he is in his 70’s? I bet he has some great stories to tell.
It has been nearly a year since our stay on beautiful Shelter Island in San Diego, CA. It is not an island, but more like a peninsula with the harbor on one side and the bay between the peninsula and North Island Naval Air Station on the other. Shelter Island is just over a mile long and a few hundred feet wide. There is a walkway from one end of the island to the other, and one road connecting the peninsula to the mainland. Morning and evening walks are peaceful and serene with a beautiful view of the City lights of San Diego in the distance. Until the jets take off from the Naval Air Base. Those are loud! The afterburners are amazingly bright red like hot burners on an old-style electric stove. The sound of the jets taking off after sundown were one of my favorite things to hear, causing my immediate rush from wherever I was in the hotel room to get a glimpse of those red hot afterburners from our bayside balcony in the dark.
I did not research the history of Shelter Island in San Diego while we were there last year. This is what I just found on Wikipedia:
Shelter Island is a neighborhood of Point Loma in San Diego, California, United States. It is actually not an island but is connected to the mainland by a narrow strip of land. It was originally a sandbank in San Diego Bay, visible only at low tide. It was built up into dry land using material dredged from the bay in 1934.[1] It was developed in the 1950s[2] and contains hotels, restaurants, marinas, and public parkland.
The “island” is 1.2 miles (1.9 km) long and only a few hundred feet wide. A single street, Shelter Island Drive, runs the length of Shelter Island and also connects it to the mainland via a causeway lined with marine-related businesses.
Walking around the island every day felt surreal and like a place I would like to visit again and again. It is a magical place, especially at night, next to the marina crowded with sailboats floating in the dark, showing off all of that richness in the water next to the reflection of the moon dancing across the small waves splashing under the stars, barely visible next to the brightness of the moon.
We are going back! We reserved the same room as last year on Shelter Island. Then my husband had a surgery about 4 weeks ago, so we canceled our reservations. He is doing so well, however, we decided to go after all. Hopefully, the room is still available.
I can’t wait to go back! The palm trees are so beautiful. The benches along the walkways beckon one to sit down for a minute and take time to enjoy the surrounding beauty of the trees, grass and, of course, the water in the bay moving along, taking every little drop of memory with it, never to be seen the same way again.
People are friendly on the island. There is a sense of safety. Most of the people my husband and I spoke to last year were also visiting California. They were enjoying their walks along the bay. You could see in their eyes how relaxed they were, how present they were, not in a hurry to go anywhere, just taking in the quiet moments and beautiful surroundings, not wanting the time to pass too quickly.
No two trips are the same. Even to the same place. Our last trip to San Diego was life changing in many ways. There was a lot of time to walk, sit, listen, observe, feel and ponder. I suspect this trip will be filled with reminiscings of some of the memories of last year and, importantly, spending time by my husband’s side as he takes me with him on a ride down memory lane, pointing out where he lived, worked, and spent time as a young sailor in the Navy stationed in San Diego. I am looking forward to visualizing his memories as he shares them with me.
My husband likes to coin hunt with his metal detector. Last year, he found, among other things, a couple of rings on the beach. We are looking forward to spending time searching for “buried treasures” along the ocean front, again, this year.
While in San Diego, we went to Sea World and San Diego Zoo. We took a beautiful sunset dolphin and whale watching cruise and a fun little seal cruise on the bus boat. I love to be out on the water. It reminds me of wonderful family time, fishing with my parents, brother and sister when we were younger. That is a blog post for another day.
So, if you have visited San Diego or live in the area, what are some of the “must dos” we can participate in this year? What are some of your favorite restaurants or other places to eat? Tell me about anything we should not miss while we are there.
This thought came to me while I was in the shower this morning. I am old enough to remember when purchasing a bar of soap meant it was a rectangular full-size bar of soap. The middle was not scooped out on the top and bottom of the bar so the company selling the bar could get more money for less product. When did that become a thing? Selling less product for more money? It seems like a sneaky practice and is everywhere we turn. Less cereal in a box, less chips in a bag, and smaller Twinkies to place in the bottom of my bowl of strawberries. I am not saying it is a bad thing to eat less. But, that is not why these companies are cutting down on the size of product they are selling. It is not about saving us from eating too many calories at one sitting. Nope. It is about the bottom line. THEIR bottom line. The money. Selling less for more seems to have become our country’s motto.
If you google less product for more money, there are several results that talk about this. One of the articles I just read termed this “shrinkflation” and claims this has been around since the 1950’s and is always worse when inflation is higher. I never knew there was a term for selling less for the same or more money until just now reading this article:
So, how do we fight “shrinkflation?” Can we? Should we? The last paragraph of the article I shared above mentions a few ways, one being to contact the participating companies to let them know of our dissatisfaction. Do I have any misconceptions that my one email to a company will make a difference? No. But, maybe my letter will simply be the first. Maybe others will follow my example to express their feelings of “enough is enough.” One only needs to mention Bud Light to know that many voices and choices to buy elsewhere can make a difference. Thoughts?
SPiNNiNG ViSiONS is one of my favorite blogs. The way this 21-year-old blogger weaves her words together to form beautiful descriptions of deep thoughts, feelings, and opinions has me looking forward to the next post, again and again. The wisdom if her words is far beyond her years.
Thanks, Makenna, for creating a blog that is interesting and informative.
ChatterLei 