Checking in

I just thought I should check in.  Somehow this trio of goofballs trying to get across the country has attracted a few followers. And some of you actually start to worry about us if we have been quiet for too long. With good reason.

The Sausalito Arts Festival is in full swing, Scott and I have been staying in San Francisco in a beautiful apartment.  And we have added a newcomer the story, Rebecca.  "Becca" is David's daughter (our niece) and has been living in San Francisco for about three weeks now.  She is in a one room apartment not too far from us.  David, however, is staying in the motorhome with Mitzi, the pug. The motorhome is parked about an hour away from us in an area I'll call East Jesus.

East Jesus, in case you don't know, is a southern expression for some place far removed from civilization.  In this case East Jesus is apparently not far from San Quentin Prison. David and Becca discovered that due to a little operator error with the GPS.

David has rented a car while we are all here. It is a Chevy something or other, and is a little bit larger than a gnat. And this is where I really have to take my hat off to David. He has been driving the gnat into "the city" from East Jesus every morning to pick me up and deliver me to the show, take Scott to run errands, pick up Becca, and return to pick me up at the end of the day. Driving us all back across the Golden Gate Bridge just so he can turn around and drive back across the GGB to East Jesus again.

The switch from a 30 ft motorhome to a gnat was fairly significant, David had to demonstrate the "snappy" steering, on the highway. I only screamed out loud for a minute.  But that little car has been great to buzz up the hills of San Francisco in, even with all four of us in it. Becca has been his co-pilot, which means David ignores her and the GPS rather than ignoring me and the GPS.  A vast improvement.

We have one more day just like this, then on Monday it gets complicated again. Bringing the motorhome down to the show site to tear down and load it up with panels and artwork.  I am trying not to think about it actually. If you know any collectors in San Francisco, send them my way, each painting that finds a new home doesn't have to ride back to Georgia.

And that would be a very good thing.