April 13th, 2008


Injury and Insult

gigica joined us for dinner last night -- always a good excuse for a dinner at A Taste of India. We had a good and enjoyable meal (although I wish I'd known that they put green bell peppers in what I ordered; I would have ordered something else). As we were getting back into Gigi's car, there was a loud clunk as the roof of Gigi's car viciously assaulted Cheryl's forehead. Ouch! After ascertaining that a trip to the emergency room was not called for, we headed back to the hotel and helped Cheryl gingerly make her way back to the hotel room, where she laid down for a while as we made our farewells to Gigi.

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After I get showered and packed, we're off to see my grandfather and head back to the Bay Area after our whirlwind visit to the Yuba-Sutter Hub Area.
Kevin Talking

Buzz, Buzz, Buzz

We got back to Fremont this evening just after the Sharks-Calgary playoff game had started. We stopped by Chipotle to pick up a couple of burritos for dinner, and in the time we were inside, the Sharks scored three goals in five minutes. And then proceeded to not score again while allowing Calgary to score four times. Blast!

Anyway, back to today's travel. We went out and visited my grandfather for a couple of hours this afternoon. I've previously mentioned that he has an orange tree on this property and that I'd pronounced the oranges I got on my last trip the best I've ever eaten. He told me that there weren't many left, but I was welcome to all I could pick. I went out to the tree with a paper bag and discovered I had a little problem.

More precisely, I had many, many little flying problems. It is spring after all, the trees are in bloom, and when the neighbor shut off his lawn mower I could hear as well as see that the orange tree was literally (yes, I mean it correctly) buzzing with bees. The hum of many bees busily investigating the tree was distinctly audible.

The bees aren't actually interested in the fruit, so I put on my jacket and gloves and decided to try picking a few oranges. The problem is that the act of picking the fruit shakes the branches, and agitates the bees therein. They were sufficiently intent on the flowers that they didn't come after me, but after picking half a dozen oranges, I decided that I'm just not up to reaching into a tree full of bees without full protective gear and called it a day.

After explaining my bout with bees to my grandfather and thanking him for his generosity, we headed back into Yuba City, stopped briefly for some Jamba Juice, and headed back toward the Bay Area.