Day Six

8.7.10 Gaviota Beach

Before we left Barstow we found the papers for Gaviota State Park on the beach around 33 miles north of Santa Barbara. I had to make the reservations for this weekend seven months ahead of time in February on the first day of the month. At that time people from all over the US call in to make reservations for these precious summer weekends on the California beaches. I kept trying online at the time, but could not get through. I also tried the phone, but we had an appointment that morning, so we left the house before we had made the reservations. When we came back, I began calling and got through to find out that this campground site was the only one left in all of the campgrounds north of Santa Barbara.

They had made a big deal out of the fact that there could sometimes be strong winds and they would have to close the campground and would not refund your money. I told Ted that I thought that it would be a good idea to check the reservations by calling the campground this morning and making sure everything was okay. We got online and found out that the office was closed on the first and third Fridays of the month. We also found out that there appeared to be showers and bathrooms, but no electrical hookups or running water at your individual campsite. Yikes, I had not remembered this. I had a vague memory of the woman on the reservation phone saying that there was no dump station, but not this. I inwardly wailed. I need a break, I need to be able to spend time on the computer, on the internet. This is not going to work for me. When are we going to be able to relax? When are we going to be able to let down.

It took us about six hours to get from Barstow to the campground. I had been inwardly saying prayers that there would be electricity and water at each campsite, but then when we pulled past the ranger station all I saw were mostly tents, a lot of dirt and masses of people camped right next to each other. Our campsite was so close to each other that we had to watch the door of the car so that it would not bang into the camper that was parked right next to us. I was pissed, tired and not pleased to be having to make so many more concessions... I needed a break. Ted said, “Just think of it as an adventure.” But at that point all I could see of it was another breach on my comfort levels. I told Ted that I was going to take a nap before we had to go to the rehearsal dinner. He did the same.

We were able to take showers and get ready, but I could not use the curling or the flat iron to do my hair. I had to just go. When we got to Salle's and George's in the foothills of the Santa Barbara mountains, I could hear everyone in the backyard. All my family and Richard's family embraced us so warmly. We had a beautiful, fun dinner in the backyard of this beautiful home. We sat at one big long table and told stories, gave toasts and laughed and laughed.

We have lights on the twelve volts battery that work, so when we got home we could read a little to wind down.

I woke up this morning around five Pacific Time. Ted was awake also and I went and snuggled up in his little bed with him. We talked and then we both went back to sleep. It was 8:30 when we both woke up. I felt so different not to have to be somewhere or push myself this morning. I felt grateful to be somewhere and not to have to really get up and get on the road. But it was more than that, it was finally a feeling of letting down. We have been really pushing ourselves on some level since May when we went first to the Poconos. What is this feeling? I can sleep some more? I can take it easy? I do not have to pack something up or hook something up. What a glorious feeling. I can let my thoughts just flow and not have to be thinking about something that I have to do. It will take my mind, body and soul a little while to adjust.

I get up this morning and went to the bathroom. A young girl is standing outside one of the restroom doors. She says good morning to me. I then hear voices in the room stalls next to me. A young boy is in there talking in both Spanish and English with his mother. They run the sentences in both languages. He says to her, “Don't worry mommy, heaven can fix it.”

She says, “What did you say?”

He says, “Heaven can fix it.”

She says, “Oh that is only for when you are old.”

He says, “What do you mean?”

She says, “Heaven is for when you are old and you die.”

He says, “Oh, I am never going to be old.”

She says, “You do not have to worry about that now.”

He says, “You are not going to die are you mommy?”

She says, “No, not now. You do not have to worry.”

He says, “But will heaven be able to fix it?”

I could not hear the rest of the conversation as someone flushed the toilet. This morning I am grateful to be able to be in this amazing international village of people living together at the beach. I am grateful to be sharing this adventure. I am happy. I tell Ted. I see everything differently than when we pulled in a few short hours ago. We have gone from 114 degrees in Needles for dinner Thursday night to low sixties for an outdoor dinner Friday night in Santa Barbara. It is foggy and overcast today and everyone is wearing sweatshirts as they make their breakfasts and prepare for the day. I always have to remind myself that I will be cold once I get to the coast in California.