» Took a walk after dinner last night, just before sunset. The area here is truly beautiful. You dont realize how much until you get out of the car and go for a walk. Bit of a jungle feel. Tall palm trees rising up from deep, plunging valleys .. full of lush, leafy vegetation.
'Hilly' is a word I might use. Doubt there's a single flat spot for miles (in every direction) that wasnt put there by a bulldozer.
Impressive, sprawling estates are found everywhere the eye wanders. No two on the same plane.
Some cover hilltops; others sit camouflaged beneath dense vegetation. (Can only see part of their roofs.) Many in between. Every place different. Custom.
From this lofty perch, I look down on more homes than up at (altitude). Cooler breezes blow higher up.
The place here is so nice that it feels .. too nice. Know what I mean? Like I dont deserve to live in something so nice, so palatial. But I'll do my best to get accustomed. =)
For years I lived, stationed aboard a nuclear submarine, with nothing but a bunk and the 8-inch deep compartment you find fixed beneath it (.. to store all my clothes & personal belongings).
When two guys share the same bunk, that's called "hot-racking" .. cuz the bed (your "rack") is still warm when you climb in after standing watch (» Machinery II - lower level, feed station).
Flip the pillow over to get rid of your bunk-mate's drool and say 'good-night' to the boys in your section. (* more nuke sub watch-standing lore at the end of today's entry.)
Meanwhile the place here is so big that it took me a few days to learn my way around. Contrast.
My room has a ceiling fan that actually works. It rotates without wobbling or making noise. Didnt know such a thing existed. I'm not used to houses where everything is new (.. and works).
While laying there, looking up at the fan as it spins, I sometimes think of the opening scene in Apocalypse Now .. one of my favorite movies. [ "I love the smell of napalm in the morning." and "Charlie dont surf!" ]
Cant get over how smoothly all the drawers slide in & out. Sometimes I just sit there, opening & closing the drawers in the desks of the office (adjacent) .. open & close, open & close. Beautiful craftsmanship. Remarkably smooth mechanism.
"Here, let me help you up."
A giant picture window at the far end of the house displays a view so spectacular .. that it makes your knees weak as you step thru the front door. Boom! "Sorry 'bout that, dude. Here, let me help you up."
The best view is actually from the kitchen sink, a corner sink that has been turned to face the corner. No struts to support the corner joint. All window. All glass. All view, from both sides of the corner. Best in the house. A view of the distant mountains. (We fight over who gets to wash the dishes.)
••• today's entry continues here below •••
This air here reminds me of Yosemite .. especially the feel of the warm, desiccated breezes .. as they dance across your skin .. carrying the scent of conifers .. roasting in the hot sun. Ahh. Something about those warm breezes feels spiritual. As tho they go deeper, and touch your soul.
[ I've only ever been to Yosemite in the summer .. usually August, which can get toasty. It holds many special memories. Spiritual. ]
A roadrunner approached me yesterday. Little guy. Seemed unafraid of people. Ten feet away. They make a cool klacking sound.
Sun, Water, Moisture, Mold & Health
Take away the water pumped here and this area would quickly dry up and blow away. The summer heat & fierce sun would become oppressive.
It's very clear that it would be impossible to live here without the pipes and the water they bring (.. lots of it). Tho most of it seems to go to water the avocado trees.
The blow-away factor is probably true for most of Southern California, but this place has a way of reminding you. If you've ever been to Palm Springs, you know how hot California can get inland.
One of the biggest negatives of living near the ocean (.. I lived in Laguna Beach for 10 yrs) .. is » mold. Mold likes moisture. The ocean contains lots of it. Sea breezes. A 'marine layer' (clouds) covers the coast for much of the day (.. May gray & June gloom).
Mold is a known allergen. But no moisture here. No mold, either. In that respect, living here feels healthier.
Course the sun is the thing causing the moisture to evaporate. And we-humuns, you know, tend to contain ~80% moisture. You can feel the sizzle. The broiling effect. Sunscreen not an option.
Yeah seems like a jungle here, but only cuz so much water is piped in (.. for all the Avocado trees). Otherwise, mostly dry .. with balmy tropical clouds paying a visit only occasionally.
* More watch-standing lore cont'd from above:
Most watches consist of 3 'sections' .. each 6-hours long. So » a typical at-sea day = 6-on, 12-off .. in other words » work-6, play-6, sleep-6, repeat for as long as you're at sea.
Every day when you get up to go to work (to stand duty on watch), it feels like another DAY .. but actually, it has really only been 18-hours. Consequently, the days seem to drag on forever. Feels like you've been at sea a month, but it has really only been 3 weeks.
Some guys do 6-on, 6-off (.. then 6 more on, 6 more off). That's called "port & starboard." We called it "port & ree-port". Port & re-port messes with your sleep in a big way. Guys on P&S tend to bite a lot. Best to give them wide berth.
Contrast. ■
UPDATE November, 2011 - It took me a while, but I finally got around to taking some photos. See here » Photos from the News Digs.
