I am back in the apartment and Elvon is in “Sonoma Post-Acute Care”, formerly “Santa Rosa Convalescent”.  He has been there for a week, now.  He still cannot transfer to a wheelchair, without a lift, and is not very responsive in general.  He will be there for at least a month.

His place at the Terraces is now assured.  Someone just gave 30 days notice.  I know the wife.  She lives in here, and will be moving down to Carmel, where they have family.  I think he’s the one who got the place in “The Cottages of Carmel”, while our doctor was taking a holiday after the fire. Life is like that.

I am very happy to be home.  It is so great to be back with our Lodge family.  Everyone is so nice, and we all have fire stories, to liven the conversations, once we have hugged, long and warmly.  The food is better than ever and, if you don’t drive towards 128 to Napa, you don’t see much to depress you.  I have not.  I can’t face it yet.  The apartment looks pretty good, except for a four-inch scratch on our new leather chair, and a couple of missing pillows.

One of these days, I’ll go have a look, but I am not ready for the extreme devastation.  I am still in a type of mourning, moving slowly, feeling down, and making mistakes.  I just managed to lock all three sets of car keys in the trunk of the car.  I had taken the second set with me, just in case.  The third key lives in my wallet.  I was taking some stuff, from my car, to Pat Gustafson’s apartment, on my way out.  When I put the empty bag back in the trunk, I did it without opening the car proper.  That was when I noticed the second red purse there and saw that the second set of keys were in it.   I had just made a mental note to bring that back upstairs, when I came back, when I closed the trunk on the whole shooting match. I am waiting for AAA, now.

And while I am ‘fessing up to dizziness, one sharp reader caught this beaut:

I had dinner at Monterey’s Fish House, where I sat at the bar.  The guy on my right had had an Alzheimer’s mother-in-law, and was very sympathetic.  The gal on my right ordered what I did, and we agreed we should have just ordered one and shared it.

And sent it back with this pithy comment “So…you sat next to a hermaphrodite on your right? Did the guy half order something different?”