Wow, yester was a day that WAS a day! El called to say our friend had texted her that they were a few hours away from Chumach Camp Ground. We decided El would come for me about 11:30 and we'd drive up there--over the San Marcos Pass.
Uh-oh, the San Marcos Pass; that sounded ominous. Ellen, that sweetheart, said she'd be willing to take the long way around, but it would add anywhere from a half hour to an hour of travel time. I decided to check on YouTube and found many videos of the Pass. In fact, it didn't look too bad: Most of the sheer drops were bordered by guard rails, so I told El I'd be okay with going that way. And I was, pretty much.
Got to the campground, and amid great rejoicing, greeted each other. Had a quick lunch of leftovers, and was delighted when my friend got a call from Mike to the effect they were just leaving the Madonna Inn and would come to the campground, too--oh, joy! They wouldn't get there for two or three hours, so the four of us set off on a walk to Lake Casitas, which is part of the campground.
Whew! Was it cold and windy! The huge lake is beautiful, but we thought its level was lower than normal. We walked a trail or two, then went back to the RV. My friend brought out gifts of lovely necklaces she had made herself--mine a depiction of "the family tree." She represented members of our family as yellow flowers on a full green tree, with Pat and me at the top, our two daughters on one side and two sons on the other.
Soon, Mike, Paula, and the two dynamos got there. Vivian and Violet are both non-stop talkers--and doers--and we had a wonderful time with them. My friend gave out presents, then we all went for yet another walk, this time on a different route to the huge lake. (That's more exercise than I've had since I left Jersey and--brr, to say the least, but I was game.)
After a strenuous 45 minutes or so, we got back and a ranger slowed down near us in his truck. Mike chatted with him, remarking that he and Paula had come to the lake when they were at UCSB twenty yeas ago and were surprised at how much lower it was. The ranger asked them to guess how much and Paula said twenty-five feet, Mike sixty. We were amazed when the ranger told us it was eighty-eight feet lower than it had been even five years ago. Sobering fact, which drives the reality of the southern California drought home.
We went back to the RV (the living room bigger than mine), talked and laughed more, then made--tentative--plans for today. M., P., V. and V. would come here to my Tinytown first, then we'll all go to Ellen's. Possibly, she'll take the girls to the movies--we'll see.
We then parted and went our ways, the Singapore Four to their rented house in Montecito. (I guess Santa Barbara is no longer ritzy enough for my boy, as here's what Wikipedia has to say about the place: "Montecito's ZIP code, 93108, is one of the wealthiest in the entire nation. ...Today, Montecito harbors many a celeb, from Oprah Winfrey and Julia Louis-Dreyfuss to Rob Lowe and Jeff Bridges. ..," and so on.)
Betty had asked me to call her when I got home; I did and possibly, she, plus Carolyn and her family, will join us today.