My Christmas trip
As I mentioned, I left Iowa on the 19th of December, heading down to Fort Madison to get on Amtrak for Riverside, CA. The ride down was easy, since the winter up till then had been unusually mild, and unlike some years, I wasn't racing a winter storm. Weather is one of several reasons I detest traveling far in winter. Other reasons include treacherous roadways, short days and long nights, crowded-out motels, and jittering about my house.
In Riverside, I found to my horror that my bags had been moved (we have to schlep our own bags on and off the train when traveling in coach) and I couldn't find them. I finally did get them off the train, right in the nick of time, and met up with my brother. As usual, he was unhappy to see that I was upset, but when I explained, he did understand. He knows that I am edgy at best (something about having spent thirty-five years dancing, against my will, on a tightrope) and since I do cool down quickly when whatever was bothering me is fixed, he doesn't generally sweat it much.
While I enjoyed my time in California, it could have been better. This wasn't anybody's fault, but some sort of crud (coughing, fever, and like that) was going through, and one after the other of my relatives caught it. That put paid to some of the things we had planned to do, like a huge slap-up breakfast binge at the Mission Inn restaurant. I was disappointed, but I did understand.
My brother and I did get to go to a military history museum in South Del Monte. It wasn't as fancy as other museums we'd been to, being composed of a gravel vacant lot with a lot of old tanks, military vehicles and what-not parked all around, but it was inexpensive and interesting. I kept thinking about some of my friends who'd served and how interesting they'd think it was.
The ride back was the usual thirty-eight hours of discomfort, but at least on the way back I could watch videos (I have a Surface and an external HD loaded with a lot of videos I want to watch; on the way out, though, they'd put me in a seat with no tray for the Surface to rest on). However, when we got back to Ft. Madison, my bags had disappeared again! This time, I couldn't find the one with my prescription medications in it, and I did something I seldom or never do: I lost my cool, yelling "Where's my BAG! Where's MY BAG? Where's my (censored) BAG?" You'd have thought this would bring the car attendants running, but they didn't show for nearly five minutes, during which I was getting increasingly frantic for my bag. God DAMN it, why did they have to move my bags, anyway? I know a lot of people got on the train at KC, but they could have put THEIR damn ol' bags back in the lower passenger area, rather than going out of their way to move mine! However, the bag was finally located and I un-assed that train with no regrets.
Since being home, I've been trying to get things back in order. At least I have hot water this year.