Welcome to the Promised Land!

Ah, but one needs to suffer more rain before getting to the promised land!

And more work, too!  Actually, it seemed like more fun than work.  I had done the training last year so that I could teach the administrative law courses that I first took as a student lo these many years ago.  When I was finally given the opportunity to teach, I jumped at it.  Those of you who knew me from the old banking days know that I taught, briefly, at the banking school in North Carolina, and loved it.  David liked to tell the story of passing by my classroom, looking in through the peephole in the door, and seeing me sitting on a desk in the front of the room, swinging my legs, and having everyone in stitches.  Nothing quite so risque here, but everyone seemed engaged, and it was really exhilirating!  Maybe I missed my calling.  No, not teaching children, but maybe history in college?

Anyway, as a reward, Gerry (otherwise known as The Juke Box Man) took me for a lovely Japanese dinner in White Rock.

It was a really pretty plate - too bad I didn't think to take a picture until I had almost demolished it!  One of those places you sometimes find in strip malls, nicely decorated little places with good food and a cheap price!  It is one of the things I love about Vancouver!

And for all my bitchin' about the rain, we did have a lovely fall in Vancouver.

I waited too late to take those pictures too - the trees were much redder a week ago - but you get the idea!

Friend Arlene came up from Seattle for the weekend.  We hadn't seen each other for a while, and talked and talked - and walked and ate too, of course - and on Monday morning, she dropped me off in Bellingham on her way home.  And, finally, off to Palm Springs!  The plane was three hours late, but otherwise uneventful, and neighbor Michael, god bless him, was there to pick me up at the airport.  (The wonders of being able to track planes on the computer!)

The deal was airport pickup in exchange for dinner, and I kept up my end of the bargain as well!

Michael's such a creature of habit!  Bagels and lox at Manhattan at the Desert it was!  (Not that I was complaining, altough matzoh ball soup is my habit of choice!)  Michael had put the heat on (it is the desert, folks; it may be 80 during the day, but it gets chilly at night!), and it was good to be home.  As neighbor Vinnie (and no, I didn't make that up, and yes, he is from New York) said to me the next morning, "Welcome back to the promised land!"

It doesn't take too long to get used to the new surroundings....

(that's my house, to the right of the flagpole!)

.....and the neighbors....

(Yes, Marilyn!  Isn't she great!)

Oh, and not to mention a completely different set of activities.....

From the sublime (listening to Jazz at Melvyn's on Sunday nights)

....to the ridiculous (playing bingo with the trailer trash, as we fondly call ourselves!)

...and being served a cake in the shape of a turkey at bridge!

Welcome home!  It doesn't take too long to settle back into a routine; the gym in the morning, bridge several afternoons a week, the occasional lunch or dinner with friends (Laurel, friend from Salt Spring days, is here, and invited me to lunch at the Seven Lakes club, and Art and Wally took me to the Twin Palms, both to be recommended, but then you foodies know I am not too fussy!), and afternoons at the pool.

Life is good!