Odds and Ends

Sunday, March 6, 2016


That’s right.  We’re talking about donuts.  The apple fritter kind.

We are nearing the end of our exile here in the middle of nowhere and there are a few things I would like to pass on. Little events that don’t fit into their own category, but together make up a part of the bigger picture of life out here. Sort-of like things we have done and things we have left undone. Neither of which we are sorry for.

Just like years past, we went to Calipatria and got donuts. Several times. Luscious, sweet, potentially fatty, wonderful donuts.


Donuts.  Many donuts.

It is common knowledge that one does not pass through Calipatria without stopping at the donut shop, which I might add, is open from sometime very early in the morning until 11:00 at night. That’s right, for the donut aficionado there are only 6-7 hours each day when you CAN’T get donuts. It pays to plan your time wisely when driving south on Highway 111.


It sounds like a plan.


I seemed to have developed a new “hobby” of sorts and it’s not anything I wanted to pursue or even enjoy doing. Laundry seems to have taken on a new meaning around here.


My new frienemies.

Dad has been busily braiding, and during this process he is also acquiring new wool things. Everything that comes his way needs to be washed. There have been several weeks where I have been to the laundry room every other day. (Let me help with the math. This equals 3 times in 7 days.) In addition, laundry day usually equals 6-9 loads of laundry. I’m not cheerful on these days, nor do I wish to make small talk. None of this goes well for me. On one particularly bad day, I managed to turn ALL of my pieces of off-white unbleached muslin material, YELLOW. This occurred when I threw a piece of gold material in with the load of “natural-colored” yardage. Who would think that gold would bleed? Not me. Even a “Color Catcher Sheet” couldn’t catch all the excess color. What. A. Mess. I need a new hobby or perhaps it’s just time to head for home.


I also iron.  My dear Dad isn’t going to look like he slept in his clothes, at least not on my watch.

A couple of weeks ago, our neighboring RV Park, Lark Spa, held its annual “Testicle Festival.” We did not attend this event.   Apparently, the namesake body part was the featured menu item. The whole idea lacked that certain appeal to this Daisie, so I failed to mention it to my fellow Hag-mates. They were probably busy anyway.

We discovered a new (to us) restaurant in Brawley. It is called the Inferno, its catchy name due to a raging fire a couple of years ago that almost burned the entire building down. I think it might have been a furniture store in its previous life.  Now, it is a stylish little place with a wood fired oven that serves GREAT pizza and has live music.


The wood-fired oven


The Daisie men waiting for pizza.

We ate pizza there, but let’s just say that live music lacks appeal for some members of this group.


Unfortunately, we weren’t able to make it to Jonn’s performance.

The pizza was great, and I can’t pass up food cooked in a wood oven.


Look at that pizza……Hawaiian for Dad and Margarita for the remaining Daisies.


I had “Ladies Day” two times. The first occurred when I went with two other women to the “Road to California Quilt Show and Market.”  It was a fun-filled day of walking, looking, and shopping. (mostly shopping)


I scored at the Road to California.  The Clover booth gave me both the book and the Wonder Clips!


We finished off the Road to California trip with a late night stop at JoAnn’s.

The second event revolved around a trip into the Palm Springs area to hit up the fabric stores, all three of them, plus Costco, Stein Mart, AND lunch. Really, it was too good to be true, even if I might be fairly easy to please. The discussion on the trip back to FOY centered around what we (the four of us in the car) NEEDED to plan for next year. One was a trip to Disneyland, which I declined unless my dear daughter will fly down and join us. I don’t want her to disown me, and I know she would have a good time with us “old” gals. We’re a lot of fun. The next suggestion was a casino trip, and I can’t remember the third event. It was good to leave the island, and be in the company of my own kind. (that would be: other women)

We “dined” at the American Legion in Bombay Beach several times. Taco Tuesday and Spaghetti Thursday are always popular. It’s usually a raucous good time.


Much to Dad’s delight, Taco Tuesday dinner was served with a fly swatter.  He dispatched six, in case you were wondering.

There is live music on Tuesday’s, and the place is packed. Thursday’s are not as popular as it is in direct competition with FOY’s Pizza and Karaoke Night. We didn’t attend the latter. We were able to hear it from our site.

And last, but certainly not least, perhaps my favorite story from our stay here. I was taking dear Stella out for her evening potty break when my neighbor decided to join our walk. Soon we met up with another woman from the park. Stella, of course, leaned up against this latest woman who was talking and cooing to her. Then, said woman looked at me and with complete resolve stated, “I’ll trade you my husband for Stella.” The words left my mouth in an involuntary reaction. I assured her I was absolutely NOT interested in a deal like that.  I didn’t need yet another man. I already had two and that was more than enough. She walked away, somewhat deflated, and the woman next to me whispered in my ear, “You DON’T want her husband.” And once again, I assured her that sight unseen, no trade was going to occur. My dear Stella will be living forever with this lady friend, and we won’t be taking on any other stray or un-stray men.


These girls are sticking together.  FOREVER.

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