Today was another relaxing one. We got up at our new normal time, 0730-ish, then fiddled around, drinking coffee and reading, until 1000-ish. At that time we decided it was time to eat so I got busy cooking. With permission, I decided it was time for eggs, bacon, fried potatoes and toast. As luck would have it, Diane baked two potatoes yesterday but we only ate one of them so we had one I could hack to pieces and fry them.

Before dismantling the potato, I got the bacon going so I’d have some grease in which to fry the potato. Diane may have preferred that I fry them in butter, or Crisco, but I didn’t want to. I was in charge. I did, however, fry the eggs in butter. That’s Diane’s choice. I, personally, prefer anything that needs to be fried to be fried in bacon grease. I even fry up sausage patties in bacon grease.

Breakfast was awesome, then Diane bundled up for our trip to Del Mar and the car show. Me? I wore shorts and a t-shirt. Admittedly, it was a brave thing to do because the breeze coming through the windows was a bit on the chilly side.

Having previously agreed that we would take a train to Solano Beach, then walk to the Del Mar Fairgrounds, we meticulously checked, and rechecked the schedule to ensure we knew what we were doing. You see, there are about four trains that ply the rails between LA and San Diego with many commuter stops along the way. Interestingly, though they whiz by within a few blocks of our temporary residence, they are not a distraction.

Armed with all this information, we set out for the Oceanside Transit Center, a fairly large complex from which we could exit the area on any of the trains, or busses. Once we arrived, we joined some other neophyte train riders to catch the 1228 train to Solano Beach. An attractive young transit policewoman loudly informed everyone that the next train for our chosen stop wasn’t until 1432, a three-hour wait. I had a brief education by the young lady who pointed out the error in my thinking process that led us to believe we had actually figured out how to read the complicated schedule.

At this point, Diane and I looked at each other, for the first time in days, and voiced our concern about having to wait for three hours for the planned trip to the custom car show. Then we started talking, another rare event, and learned that we were both victims of the dreaded GOTM syndrome. That’s the one where one of us agrees to do something they think the other one really wants to do, like in the story about The Gift Of The Magi. Remember that one? Well, turns out we both thought going to the custom car show because we thought the other person really wanted to attend the show. After talking about this for a while we came to the conclusion that neither of us really wanted to spend time indoors, walking around for hours looking at custom cars. We’ve seen lots of custom cars in the past so we determined that our time would be better spent walking around Oceanside’s back streets to see what we could see, so that’s what we did. We wandered, all the way north, almost to the far end of The Strand.

Then we had to walk all the way back. It was really a nice walk, however, and neither of us was hurting worse than normal at the finish line. Still, we found it necessary to rest for the remainder of the afternoon which turned chillier making our choice to stay inside a good one.

Later, I made some popcorn, for myself because Diane doesn’t eat it, and it brought up the merits of making good choices about which bowls to use. You see, one previous day I selected a bowl from the counter, dried it out, dumped my popcorn in it and plopped myself on the sofa. Diane said, “did you wash the bowl?” I replied, it was wet so I just dried it out. “You know, don’t you,” she asked, “that I soaked my feet in that bowl?” In no way intimidated, I responded, “yes, but you did it twice an I rinsed it between soaks.” She pointed out, “but, Jerrie! I cleaned the polish off my toes with acetone in that bowl!” Sniffing the bowl, I didn’t detect a hint of acetone, so figured all was good.

Although I didn’t look Directly at Diane, I know for a fact that she stared at me with furrowed brow for longer than normal, then went back to what she was doing.

I’m pretty sure I’m going to be OK, but one never knows, does one?

Now we’re just in a wait and see mode to discover if I come down with some sort of exotic athlete’s foot kind of thing in the back of my throat. On the off-chance I do, I’m reading about foot fungus medicine on-line to see if it’s a bad thing to ingest. Looks good, so far