Tag Archives: Palm Springs

Speaking of crime…

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The entrance to our old home. Our homeless man, who believed he bought our house, slept on the steps.

The back yard, which had our front door, once you walked through the gate above.

Sometimes I miss my old home. We lived there for 28 years. I had my babies there and raised them until they went off to college. I never thought I’d leave. But then COVID hit and my husband worked remotely from the Master bedroom. I worked remotely from our son’s bedroom.

Prices were going crazy high because people were fleeing the big cities of San Francisco and Los Angeles. Our town offered more space and much lower prices compared to the city life. My husband believed it was time to make our move to Arizona.

When I feel like I miss the old homestead, I read my emails. Every morning I get a “Personalized Spot Crime” report for my old neighborhood.

It’s gotten so much worse since we moved three years ago in December.

Here are a couple examples from my inbox:

In the 28 years we lived there, we had very little crime. My bicycle was stolen from the carport, which didn’t lock at the time. We had a homeless man who slept on the steps of the archway.

Oh, we had someone break into the home from the hospital mental ward a few blocks away wearing his “robe” with a bare behind. My daughter was the one who ran into him in the kitchen. She was in third grade and named him Hobo Joe. My husband threw him out of the house and called the police. They caught him trying to enter the house across the street.

But through 28 years, those were off events. Nothing like the crime I see reported on a daily basis now.

The crime I see in my new neighborhood amount to javelinas destroying golf courses.

Once, after flying home from Seattle visiting family, I had to take a Lyft home. My husband had COVID. Anyway, the Lyft driver told me he was once a deputy sheriff in my neck of the woods. He said the number one crime was speeding. I sure hope it stays that way! It makes me appreciate my new home and where I live.

I had crime on my mind after a run in with the Mexican police on our recent getaway. If you missed it, I wrote about it HERE.

Is there crime in your neighborhood? Do you feel it’s gotten worse or better through the years?

Karl to the rescue

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old spanish style house
My dream home of 28 years in Palm Springs, built in 1937.

I was home caring for my dad, who had shoulder surgery. My daughter and husband were in Los Angeles at a swim meet for the weekend (son in college). I had to pick up my dad’s meds at the pharmacy and I told him not to leave the recliner we had rented for his recovery — placed in front of the TV.

When I returned, he was on the floor. Of course, he didn’t listen to me and didn’t stay put.

“I can’t get my dad off the floor!” I called my husband on his cell. After numerous attempts with Dad, neither one of us made an inch of progress.

In the background, I heard my daughter say “Call Mr. Siffleet!”

Of course, why hadn’t I thought of that? Karl was married to one of my close friends who lived less than a mile away. They had a daughter who went to kindergarten through high school with my daughter. Karl and my husband swam 5:30 a.m. Masters together.

Within minutes, Karl came over, picked my dad up as though he was a bag of potatoes and placed him comfortably in his chair. Thank you, Karl!

I can’t remember all the things Karl did for us during the decades we lived in that home. But what I do remember is going to a post-op appointment after knee surgery about thirty minutes away. I realized I left the stove on for vegetable soup I was cooking.

Yikes! I called Karl and he came over to the house, turned off the stove — and put the burnt pot outside.

Yes, this family had a key to our house. They even took care of Olive the cat while we were on vacation.

Another time, our swim team was hosting a meet at the city pool. We had an extensive set up of pop-up tents constructed from poles and tarps, tables, electronic timing equipment, scoreboard, snack bar, grills, timing chairs, etc. We’d have more than 1,000 people to host at swim meets for a three-day weekend — including swimmers and family members.

One morning, my husband (who was Mr. Meet Manager) arrived at the pool at dawn to find tons of equipment in the pool. We blamed the skaters from the next-door skate park. But it could have been any gang of hoodlums. My husband called (I was comfortably asleep in bed) and asked me to drive our daughter to the pool. Karl also showed up — probably to help with set up — and they dove in and retrieved equipment from the bottom of the deep end, hours before the meet began.

I miss living near Karl and his family. I’m glad we are still in touch, but I really miss a neighbor like Karl who always came to the rescue! He was our local superman.

What have your neighbors done for you when you needed help? Do you play that role with any neighbors?

Time keeps on slipping

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July 14, 1985 in Laguna Beach. My hubby’s Aunt Ann and Uncle Luciano are next to us.

I am in disbelief that I’ve been married for 38 years. Where did the time go?

We were together for two years before marriage, so that makes it 40 years! Of course, you have to believe that I was a child bride to make this a possibility.

Thirty-eight years ago, we lived in a small apartment. Four units around a pool. My view out the kitchen window was an empty lot of dirt. No spectacular views. We’d see a shadow of the landlord walking by our drawn curtains at night, carrying a shot gun. She made her rounds each night.

We knew all our neighbors. I was asked to be a bridesmaid by the next door neighbor. She was a close friend at that time. Her fiancee left her at the altar and she eventually moved away. I haven’t seen or heard from her since.

It took us a few years to buy our first house. Then five more until we moved into the house that was home for 28 years. The first year we lived in our Palm Springs dream home, our son was born. Three years later, our daughter. Now they’re grown and we’re in Arizona — living our next adventure on our own.

It’s been a wonderful 38 years. I feel blessed.

I can’t help thinking of the song “Time Keeps on Slipping” by the Steve Miller Band.

Do you find that as you get older time goes by faster? Why do you think that is?

Why I Swim

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Palm Springs City Pool
Our old hometown pool at sunset.

I joined US Masters Swimming in 2015 after being on deck as a swim mom and parent volunteer for 14 years. It was the adult program with the team my children swam with from kindergarten through high school. My New Year’s Resolution that year — my first as an empty nester — was to join Masters and swim with a coach. It only took me until April to make good on my New Year’s resolution. But once I got in, I made slow, but steady progress.

My biggest issue with swimming is consistency. It’s something you have to do year round to get stronger. Not every day is a good day, although most of them are. The biggest challenge for me in the beginning was relaxing and getting a steady breathing pattern.

Lately my roadblock to consistency is weather. I do not like getting in or out of the pool when it’s cold. I quit for several months over the winter. Getting back into the pool this spring, I felt like I was starting over.

During the COVID years, our Palm Springs pool (above) was shut down. Then it opened to reservations for every other lane (social distancing). Our Masters team was not allowed to practice until about the time we moved to Arizona.

What I’ve discovered about swimming, rather than cheering on the sidelines, is that being in the water gives me a chance to reflect. It’s mostly a quiet time, where I get the best physical exercise, ever — plus peace and clarity in my day.

I’m still working on the breathing. When I do feel relaxed and smooth, I notice the following 10 things while I swim:

ONE

The way the water feels cool against my skin.

TWO

The bubbles my hands make entering the water.

THREE

Spirographs and kaleidoscopes of shadows and light on the bottom of the pool as the sun filters through the water.

FOUR

The shadow of the flags as I get close to the wall.

FIVE

Muffled sounds underwater. It’s like I’m listening to a foreign language.

SIX

The view of clouds, saguaro and desert when I stop to rest.

SEVEN

The slope of the pool with tiled, black lines curving to lower depths.

EIGHT

A clump of leaves that looks like a plant growing in a crack at the bottom of my lane.

NINE

Floating and swimming relaxed must be what flying would feel like.

TEN

Relief at the end of my 1,000-yards. I feel much stronger and smoother than during my first 100 yards.

As a swimmer, I appreciate with new understanding the hard work my kids and coaches have put in for years, every single day.

What activity do you enjoy that brings you peace and clarity in your day?

Cat tales and change

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Olive in Palm Springs, hanging out by our pool, enjoying indoor/outdoor life.

Life is full of change. Look at Olive, our 11-year-old cat, who was able to roam free in Palm Springs since kittenhood and now is captive inside our house.

I was worried about how she would adjust. But with only two escapes outside in two-and-a-half years and frantic rushes back inside the house, I’d say she likes it inside. My daughter said that maybe she was always meant to be an indoor cat.

Olive’s baby picture when we first brought her home from the animal shelter.

I think Olive sensed danger when she escaped to our wild nature-filled yard.

This past weekend, I was taking out recycling. We have an enclosure for our trash and recycling bins with walls and a gate. When I opened the gate, I came eyeball to eyeball within inches of another cat who was standing on the wall.

I didn’t have my phone with me so no picture, but it was a teenage bobcat with blackish spots on a dark blonde coat. I turned and ran and glanced back to see the bobcat hightailing in the opposite direction. I looked at our video from the night before and found a few seconds of a bobcat walking by. But I’m afraid I’ve scared off the cat for the near future.

This is a photo taken by my SIL of our regular bobcat visitor. I think the one I saw a few days ago might be one of her kits.

“Change is the only constant in life.

Ones ability to adapt to those changes

will determine your success in life.”

–Benjamin Franklin

Here’s a video of Olive’s new indoor life. She seems to enjoy it!

Olive and quail.

What are your thoughts about change and life? What major changes are you going through now or have in the past?

Early mornings

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View from before sunrise during a morning walk. I love the pastel pink and blue skies.

The summer heat is here. Today it’s supposed to be 108 degrees. We’re at an elevation of 3,000 feet — rather than near sea level at our old home in Palm Springs. That makes it seven to 10 degrees cooler here.

But after our freezing cold wet winter, my body hasn’t adjusted to hot temperatures — even though the days are under 110 degrees. When I lived the Coachella Valley for 38 years, I would say it’s not hot until it’s over 110. Now, in Arizona, after two and half years, my tolerance is 100 degrees.

Our solution? Waking up early. Alarm is set for 4:30 a.m. We’re out the door by 5 a.m with a temperature of 78 degrees. Sunrise is almost half an hour later. Our goal is a one-hour walk through our neighborhood for three miles. We’ve upped our mileage and time from a 40-minute two-mile walk. We don’t see many people out, except for an occasional neighbor walking their dog.

I am getting somewhat adjusted to the new schedule. I’m very tired in the afternoon and I want to nap. But I’m not a napper. Also, I’m afraid if I do nap, I won’t be able to fall asleep at my new bedtime!

A benefit of the new schedule is I’m finding lots of time to read. I’m done with my reading and writing blogs and rewriting my manuscript hours earlier in the day. Plenty of time to settle on the sofa with a book. I’m also getting pesky chores done that I’ve managed to put off for months — or should I say years?

Here’s a photo of sunrise around 5:25 a.m.

What are your summer temperatures like?

What do you consider a perfect temperature or too hot?

What adjustments do you make to your summer schedule, if any?

Advice from Ray Bradbury

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Ally Bean from the The Spectacled Bean blogged about rereading books the other day. She has an impressive list of books she rereads. You can find HERE.

I was looking through my bookshelves for something I may want to reread. I picked up Ray Bradbury’s Zen and the Art of Writing: Release the Creative Genius Within You. It’s a small paperback book. I opened the cover and on page one the autograph of the author and the date May 1996 stared me in the face.

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That’s the first time I heard Ray Bradbury speak — and the first time I asked him to sign a book. My daughter was three months old, and my son was three years old. That’s a lot of years to have this book sitting on my bookshelf. It’s time for a reread.

His book of essays reminded me of how inspiring his talks were. I heard him speak at two writers’ conferences and at a small movie theater downtown Palm Springs. The first time I heard him speak, I saw him that same day in May 1996 at Las Casuelas the Original, a small Mexican restaurant. I introduced myself to him, as he ate alone, and said I couldn’t wait to hear his talk.  He  was happy I stopped by to say hello.

It was one of the first writer’s conferences I had attended, and I was kind of in a fog, having a newborn child and little sleep.

Ray Bradbury was amazing. He reminded me of a young child, finding wonder in the world. He had the ability to stay young at heart and observe the world as though seeing little things for the first time. I loved his story of how he wrote Fahrenheit 451 in the basement of the UCLA library at a rental typewriter paying 10 cents a half hour. He said he was literally a “dime novelist.” It gave me courage and the belief that we can do anything — if you want it badly enough.

“Garbage in, garbage out,” he said. He advised us to turn off the TV. Don’t watch the news. He said they were selling soap and there was little or no good news and it would rot our minds. Instead, “Read the Bible, a poem and an essay every day.”

How I’d wish I’d listened more carefully and followed that advice . How different would my life be today? The good news is, it’s not too late to start.

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My all-time favorite Ray Bradbury book is Fahrenheit 451. My son loves this book, too. I took my son to meet Ray Bradbury during another local speaking engagement years later. My son now has a signed copy of Farenheit 451 that he treasures. Ray Bradbury was a very accessible and kind man, willing to share with all of us enjoying his gift and genius — and striving to be 1/100th the writer that he was.

“What do you love most in the world? The big and little things, I mean. A trolley car, a pair of tennis shoes? These, at one time when we were children, were invested with magic for us.” — from Zen and the Art of Writing

Who are your all-time favorite authors? What are your favorite books?