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Susan Sleggs

Flash Fiction and personal thoughts

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Day 24 – Rt 66 trip

We’ll see how this works. I am sitting on a balcony at a Best Western Hotel in San Diego, CA. There are people in the pool five floors below to my left, there is still an occasional plane landing at the only airport in the US with just one runway, and I can hear other voices and vehicles but can’t tell where they are coming from. Traffic goes by, but the cars are few compared to noon time. There is a well lit fishing boat coming into the harbor. I hope the guys that paid to go fishing are coming home with a good catch. I could get used to living in this city because of its temperature, things to do, historical significance and abundance of US military and retirees. That being said, we probably couldn’t afford it, and I won’t leave my family on the east coast.

Last night we were serenaded by a couple of seals at 1:30 am. I was awakened, but smiling. It’s been a long time since I have heard their barking. Today when we asked, we were told they were probably begging fish trimmings from one of the boats. After supper as we walked the boardwalk we looked for the culprits, but didn’t see them.

Below is a picture out the back side of our hotel. This is a typical neighborhood in San Diego. The unique part is our hotel is one sided, meaning there are only rooms facing the bay. I’ve never seen a hotel that didn’t have rooms on both sides of the hall.

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We aren’t crazy about hotel breakfasts, so when money or time isn’t an issue we go looking for locally owned places to eat. Today, in Old Town, we found the Livingroom Cafe. Our server was a lady in her 40’s. She was pleasant, anxious to make sure we were satisfied, and helpful with directions.

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Above is the patio we shared with other guests. It was interesting because of the signs in the trees. At one point, without total awareness, I thought their huge coffee cups looked like rolls of toilet paper. They were about the same size. (Note: Bob says if we ever do this type of extended trip again, we are bringing our own toilet paper. The stuff we have been using, made for older systems that need coddling. tends to shred before it’s done its job.)

Below is my omelette. One can only eat so many huevos rancheros. I haven’t had much fruit lately, so finished that and left part of the omelette. Bob also had an omelette, but with a lot more spice to it. The homemade toast was delicious.

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After we ate, we toured Old Town. Lots of history, gift shops, and the cactus I have longed to become acquainted with.

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And another one. If you look at the bottom left corner of the plant you can see it is large enough to give one shelter. The lady was reading a book.

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Once done in Old Town we got on, paid handsomely to ride, the Hop on/Hop off trolley that tours around the city. I can’t tell you how many museums we could have visited, It was a lot. The historical neighborhoods were driven through, and there was a running commentary from the jovial, retiree age drivers. It was very interesting. To see part of Gaslight town we were advised to get off at one stop and walk to the next. Well, there aren’t too many public toilets waiting for people like me on a street corner so we had an unplanned lunch at Roma Mia. I had a cold, sweet glass of wine and Bob ordered iced tea.

 

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We shared some tiramisu, which is the best I have ever had. Our bathroom stop cost us $30.00, but it was worth it.

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Back on the trolley we went across the curved bridge to Coronado Island. Below is a picture of what the locals call a bouy town. Whomever, rents a bouy from the city for $160.00 a month, attaches their boat and lives on it. It is up to the individual to haul all necessary water, provisions, propane, etc, back and forth to the boat by dinghy. I don’t think I’m a candidate to live that way, but there is a four year waiting list to be able to do so. To each their own. The rent is so cheap you say, well yeah, if you don’t add in the cost of the boat, and the manpower necessary to make it all work.IMG_1704

Coronado has some beautiful beaches that beckon. Today neither Bob nor I thought walking a ways in soft sand was a good idea. The sun was hot and we are finally admitting traveling for almost four weeks has worn us down.

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We stayed on the trolley and went back across the bridge getting to see part of the huge Navel Station that is located here.

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More Navy vessels below. Bob’s granddaughter was stationed here when she was in the Navy.

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We got off at the Balboa Park stop and visited the Veterans Museum. It was nothing compared to what we saw weeks ago in Illinois, but still reverent.

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Neither Bob nor I knew that the Medal of Honor has a different design for the differing branches of service. I guess I’ve ever only been close to an Army one and thought there was only one style.

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When we got back to the room, we were hot and tired. We rested a bit, cleaned up and walked across the street for some dinner. The pizza was not like any we have had any where so it was a good choice. The veggie pieces were cut larger, the sausage different than at home, and the crust much thinner. After, we walked the pier to see what interesting tidbit of fishing information we could glean, or critter we could see, with our destination Eppig Brewery where we chatted with Rob again. (He’s the guy we met last night, that is from Rochester.)

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And now as I finish, still on the balcony. the seal is once again making his/her presence known. Wish I could see it.

Who Gets In – Flash Fiction

“I’ve never laughed so much at a sketch in my life. The make-up on St. Peter made him look 1000 years old.”

“Can you imagine some woman with big boobs actually telling him they were her reason to be invited into heaven, because they were God’s gift and he would enjoy seeing them regularly? I wonder if they were real?”

“And a toilet at the gates of heaven. It didn’t even look odd sitting there or for the Queen to flush it.”

“And a royal flush beats a pair, so the Queen was granted admittance. Ya gotta love it.”

 In response to Charli Mills June 28, 2018, prompt from Carrot Ranch Literary: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that is a sketch or about a sketch. It can be “A Sketch of a Romance” or “The Sketch of Aunt Tillie.” Go where the prompt leads you to scribble.

June 28: Flash Fiction Challenge

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