(no subject)

My parents' visit is going well, albeit with plenty of amusement.

Tuesday was a full work day with a even Meeting commitment. A full fine day, with perhaps a bit more afternoon caffeine than i needed. I called Dad in the evening and he sounded miserably uncomfortable. I told him i'd bring the bigger air mattress.

Wednesday was my full day off, and i got myself down to Gilroy around 8:30 am. Stepping into my brother's empty house to chivvy them out, i glanced into the downstairs office/bedroom in which they had been sleeping. (Yup, Mom was trying to keep to just a small part of the house to keep from "messing it up.") There on the floor was the larger of our camping mattresses, looking like it had been vacuum sealed. I sputtered. I went into the room and looked about for the other two mattresses. "What other two?" Dad asked. Eventually i was able to get out the question of whether they had inflated the one that was out, but no. They had slept literally on the floor. I pulled out the other two mattresses and started them all inflating. (If they hadn't left before o'dark thirty i would have oriented them to how the mattresses worked.)

I shall eventually document our road trip to the Pinnacles, which was delightful if hot. Wild turkeys! Wildflowers! Desert horned lizard! Eleven-segment rattlesnake! (eek!) Acorn Woodpeckers! No condors, probably all the great big soaring birds were turkey vultures.

The amusement here was watching my mother's urge to see "just around the next corner." I recognized my own restless urge to not miss anything by seeing everything, a strategy i am slowly learning to be less effective than our emotional impatience makes it seem. On one trail, Mom and i left Dad under a shady tree by the creek, and we began out climb up the slope on a trail with stairs carved and built of serpentine rock. I suspect it was about a 100 degrees there, on the south east facing slope, noon, no trees, away from the water. I registered my heart rate changing dramatically, and when i saw a potentially shady spot under two pines, i said i would stop and turn back there. We reached the spot, and Mom wanted to continue around the corner. I let her go, taking off my hat and white overshirt to let the breeze cool me in the shade, fishing out a bandana and soaking it in water, cooling down the back of my neck. I changed the lens on my camera, and called out that i would not join her when she called back from around the corner. Rehydrated, cooler, and with my heart rate returned to my normal, i decided i'd have no way of knowing if she slipped and fell down the steep slope at the side of the trail. I met her on her return, with her telling the story of all the steep slopes and rocky outcrops.

At another trailhead, my father was with us as we began up a steep section, in the shade but still the heat of day. This trail was crowded, and i had just realized my phone was in the car with the windows cracked. He pointed out my labored breathing (which is pretty standard for me, i would recover quickly and could remind myself to go slower) and noted we didn't *have* to do this trail. Let's stop. I rapidly agreed, but Mom just kept going. Hrmph. We sat on a stone wall in the shade waiting, and Dad proposed that we should bet on whether Mom would return with a photo of her in the cave. No bet: that sounded likely as it was only 3/4 mile to the caves. I walked around the area looking for wildlife (ground squirrels) or wildflowers (none), and then volunteered to walk back to the other parking lot to get the car (and my phone). When i returned with the car, Mom was there, with a photo of the cave entrance.

As we drove off, down out of the park, i realized how tired and exhausted they both were. I had pressed water and water soaked bandannas on them, but they had not worked to stay as hydrated as i had. The dry heat is different from the heat of the southeast: more comfortable, but -- perhaps because it's so much easier to ignore -- more insidious.

More photos to come of visiting San Juan Bautista, my favorite mission town, now more touristy.

Yesterday they joined me a little after 2 pm, and we did a driving loop around the southern part of the bay. Dad had apparently stubbed his toe so hard in the previous night that he thought he'd broken it. Dumbarton bridge to the north eastern corner of the Don Edwards National Wildlife refuge, a drive through Niles where i described the movie history and the canyon, and Mom made a note to return with me sometime (the stores are all antiques). Then to the Mission San Jose. Dad hobbled with us across the intersection and headed towards the Chapel. Mom and i returned from a trip to the south end of the buildings to find him sitting on a bench. He'd fallen: knees, elbows, left hand all beginning to bruise. His lack of depth perception thanks to the cataract had deceived him as he misread the sidewalk, with the lower edge of a ramp for handicapped unmarked.

I don't have depth perception to speak of either, so i can imagine the challenge for someone for whom it is a later development.

I'm working a couple hours, and then we are off again. This time we head west to the Santa Cruz mountains and redwoods of Big Basin.