Let me introduce myself to you. When I lived in Illinois, one means of communication with my wonderful grandchildren, was via Skype. They became acquainted with my “face” on a computer screen. I would wave and say, “Hi. It’s Grandma Di!” This greeting translated to their ears as Hi Di. From then on, it is who I became. So, let’s have a laugh. My husband and I sold our home, packed our belongings and drove two cars across half the country to live in Santa Clarita, CA! We had been Midwesterners for 60 plus years so this was quite a departure for us! Let me describe some of the things we “newbies” experienced. One: Midwesterners do not know the meaning of the word paseo. Two: we usually paid to drive on all our major highways. Three: we did not know what an HOV lane was. Four: when I saw a dog roaming about at night around our house, it wasn’t a dog; it was a coyote. It was a spectacular drive to the West Coast. I was in my fancy, little, sporty two-seater driving very fast through the mountains and loving every minute. Then, we had a glitch. The fancy, little, sporty two-seater broke down just out of Denver. Smoke was pouring out of the hood. We (my best friend joined me on the trip) drove off the highway, lifted the hood, prayed no one would hit us, and started the process of getting help. My husband was my first call. Did I mention that his passenger was a bird? It was 102 degrees? It was a Saturday, with dealerships closing around 3 p.m.? I was able to arrange for a flat-bed truck (fancy doo-dah cars like mine are not towed, thank you very much!) to come and find us. An hour later, no truck. We were off the highway on I-80, a few miles out of Denver in a sports car with the hood up. How hard could we be to find? Then the cops came. Two young, good-lookin’ policemen pulled up behind us. I gave them the run-down, asked them if they could offer help, and added that we were two, 65-year-old women who had already been waiting in the car for two hours, we were really hot (I did say they were cute, yes? grin) and we really needed to pee! Miraculously, a flat-bed truck pulled in front of us (not the one we called) and the driver offered help. The cops vouched for him, we expressed our thanks, he hauled my car up on the truck, hauled us up the pretty near five-feet to get into his front seat and we were on our way to Littleton, CO (the location of the only dealer who would accommodate us.) My husband, by the way, was finally given the location where he and the bird could cool off. I have life-long friends who live in Littleton, CO. The light bulb went off, I gave them a call, laughingly told them where we were and would they like to take us to dinner! We all cracked up at this unforeseen opportunity for a visit totally out of the blue! We all got back on the road with no further mishaps. But, I digress. Five: we rarely (probably never) made left-hand turns with three left lanes. Six: my husband showed me a cute, baby rattlesnake wrapped around my flowerpot. I asked, “Where is the mother?” Seven: Dallas Raines; ABC meteorologist, come on, folks, he’s a blast and mentions Santa Clarita weather every night! I can tell you want me to go on but really, we just met! (Live Long and Prosper!)
