i just got back from a week in california visiting our oldest son in concord. we spent friday and saturday night at a quaint b&b, the olallieberry inn in cambrian. it was a relaxing time. on Saturday, we visited heart castle in the morning. interesting tour of a beautiful old building. WRH had more money than sense, if you ask me, as he spent some $6.5 million, in 1920's dollars, on this castle and had 6 other projects of the same scale going at the same time.
it was amusing to me thinking about this old country boy treading the same boards as the likes of clark gable, david niven and others.
in the afternoon we drove a short way up the coast to see the elephant seals. there was several to be seen hauled up on the beach, looking dead as a door-nail laying there in their inert obesity. the only indication of life from any of them was when one or the other would use its' flippers to kick sand onto their backs.
on sunday we were to go back to concord, this time choosing to take highway 1 along the coast. when i woke that morning it was with a splitting head ache. i was bothered by what i think was migraines in my teenage years. the headaches in those days persisted through the day building until i vomited multiple times. these "migraines" have been extremely rare in my adult years. in fact i can't remember the last time i had one, until that sunday morning that is.
i woke early, knowing i had a headache as i sometimes do. drifting in and out of sleep, i lay there thinking-- "man i really feel bad", my neck and head really hurt and after a bit i realized i was feeling nauseated. b. got up to take a bath in the claw foot bath tub. i could hear her in there splashing around having a good ole time when it became quite evident to me that i was going to toss my cookies and not sometime, but right then.
not wanting to spoil her reverie in the tub by hurling into the porcelain pedestal at tub side, i opted to unload my guts into the nearest trash can. so much for the delicious meal we had at "the pig" restaurant, there in cambria, the night before. thank heavens for trash can liners. i managed to upchuck another time or three before we set out towards highway 1.
still not feeling well we made our way to perhaps the windiest, the up and down-ed-est road in the u. s. of a.! whether or not that contributed to my continued gastric unease i can't say. i do know that more than once i had to ask our son, the driver, to find a pull out in a hurry.
the second, or was it the third pull over, i was bracing myself over the guard rail calling 'ralph' for all i was worth. at last the retching stopped. as i stood up, i retrieved my camera and took this picture. the camera doesn't see through fog all that well. what i saw was the ocean crashing into the shore at the bottom of the mountain. as i turned to go back to the car i saw that all inside had busted out laughing. "what the heck is so funny," i asked. "only you would be puking over the side rail one second and taking pictures in the next. in my defense, the picture doesn't capture what i saw through the lens of my puke, teared eyes--- on second thought, maybe it does. aio