Time To Leave the Desert

It is hard to believe that our time in Palm Springs has come to an end. I notice that I have hardly shared anything about our stay here.

First, to clear up a few things. If you ever want to hear from people you did not even know were tracking you, just write about a beggar in a supermarket! It has been a great discussion. I certainly learned a lesson about writing words and the very different things people glean from those words. So, I must clear up just one thing. I was not positing that this person was legit, or that I had any intention of ever giving him money.

This person was more a symbol of a dark cynicism that had found its way into my heart. I know these people can be dangerous and scary, especially to those who may not feel able to protect themselves when alone and confronted by such people. I learned that many have had the same line put to them from any number of different beggars.

Yet, that was not my point. While not afraid, I was terribly uncomfortable. This person had invaded my otherwise cozy, run-of-the-mill daily existence. He challenged my self image that I could handle most situations, and that ultimately I would respond compassionately. It was a healthy self-dialogue, and grew into an even healthier dialogue with many of you. Thanks for that.

I have also learned that if you send copies of your blogs to your mother (who still refuses a computer), leave out the blog about almost being killed by older Florida drivers who should have their licenses revoked. Even though my mother refuses to allow the word "old" to be spoken or even written in her presence, she took me down a couple (many) notches for my "stupid, uninformed" writing about senior drivers.

Quoting what I can only assume was the latest issue of the AARP newsletter, she was armed with a plethora of statistics regarding the vast majority of accidents being causes by young drivers. Deftly pushing aside any reasoning about there not being many 85 year old people left to drive, thereby skewing the statistics, she concluded by warning me to "do a little research in the future." You all know the line, "Honey, you are better than that." Ouch! I guess I also learned that being 59 years old in no way insulates you from being lifted by your ears by a pissed off, old (do the math) mother.

As for Palm Springs, it has rained for the past three days (yes, in the desert) and was 39 degrees this morning. I know that means it is Spring in Minnesota, but for us, it is time to continue our search for the perfect winter weather. So jacks up, slides in, start the engine, and off we go to Key West!

In the meantime we have had a great time. We have spent good times with other Minneapolis snowbirds, including Dennis' former real estate partner, June Berg, and her family and friends.

We also had a great time with Dennis' brother, Neil and his wife, Candy. Who said four adults cannot live comfortably in 275 square feet? We laughed all weekend.

Dennis volunteered at a store run by the Desert AIDS Project that sells top grade donated clothes and things. He loved the activity and met lots of people. We both enjoyed our time alone (275 square feet. . . remember?). I used the time to put a dent in my writing projects.

We explored the area and even drove into the mountains just so see some snow (old habits die hard). The high desert is a diverse and beautiful ecosystem. We did some hiking in the desert. Well, Dennis did some hiking; I hiked, once. I used up all my nitroglycerin. I have learned the invaluable lesson that I can enjoy the glory of nature and never ascend an incline. College in Nebraska apparently gave me a deep love for level ground.

Dennis' hiking group includes two 70+ men who resemble long horned sheep in their ability to scale a cliff without ever increasing their heart rates. Dennis treats the experience much like he treats ingesting that extra dose of scalding jalapeno hot sauce (while gasping and sweating), "Ah, that was great!"

We enjoyed theater, street fairs, dining, and coffee on the lawn of our favorite coffee shop. We shopped way too much, and ate even more. Our last purchase was a Weight Watcher's cook book at COSTCO. As soon as I break the plastic seal, we may start down that road. Don't hold your breath.