La Jolla

    Two weeks ago I needed a change My sponsor had driven me too hard on my football story. The big break came when I decided to take a bus trip to La Jolla. I needed a relaxant. I decided to spend Sunday on a date with me.
    A half rain fell on San Diego in the morning. I left the 500 Hotel crossed a dumpster to the Seven Eleven on C and Kettner Streets.. I stepped over a few homeless and bought a small $3.95  Chef Salad from the Seven Eleven. The Santa Fe Station was my next stop. The Green-line trolley would be arriving soon. At nine thirty I got on and snuggled next to many Latinos going to work. A lone African American lady scolded her little daughter. Her voice was the only one heard on the train.
    Since there are no bathrooms at the Old Town stop except at the Deli under the round clock that was one hour off.  . I took his advise and went to a small deli in back of the big clock with the wrong time. It was a quarter well spent. After my senior citizen pit stop, I went to my parked car and unlocked the trunk. I needed to get sun glasses and sun tan lotion. Just in time I climbed aboard the number 30 bus. It felt good to leave the driving to somebody else. I could work on my football story, look out the window, or listen in to some of the other patrons.
   The bus weaved down Grand, Mission, and finally La Jolla Blvd. I spilled out on Girard and Silverspur and began walked up the street when something sweet swept me off my feet. It was the Girard Coffee Shop.  I ordered a cinnamon raisin roll to go with a hot chocolate. I sat down to edit some of my football stories. There were tables outside but with a rather cold  half-rain, I felt warm again enjoying the tasty treat with hot chocolate. I felt like a sailor eating his first fill after a long trip. My legs had a chance to re-energize themselves.
   I lovely lady made her entrance from the back. Since she smiled and looked serene, I knew she must be the owner. Diane came over and spoke about the DNA of her eatery. "We began the Girard Gourmet about twenty two years ago. My husband learned the art of bakery in Belgium.
   He is sixty nine but remembers only one story about World War Two. His family had a farm in Belgium and the Germans took off with our only horse at the end of the war. Since the horse knew it belonged to us, it escaped  back to our farm a day or two later.
   She also spoke about a time when the Super Bowl landed in San Diego.  "My husband made cookies to resemble the football players with numbers on them. He sold out of the first batch and some officials from the NFL walked into the store. They told us we needed permission to make the cookies. My husband made another five batches and sold out of them the next day.

George at the Cove 

   I left Diane and walked up Girard Street on my way to the famous La Jolla Caves. The unseasonably cold weather brought another half rain to the Village. I huddled under the canopy of a Sushi Bar and Joined folks from  Louisiana. . Afterwards I walked down to the La Jolla's caves.

On Top of Cove 

   I imagined myself Tom Sawyer in one of Mark Twain's adventures when he hid in a cafe to escape a pirate.  A bug crack in the walls gave me a place to rest and remove my knapsack. I ate another tuna sandwich and watched the kids go into the tide pools. The outpost cave looked like a big arch with tiny pools inside of it. A dad scoured for rocks or shells while the kids played a game called Pirates.

  Some large mounds of rocks were to my right. Many sea lions long black necked birds shared the rocky ledges together. I was told that about one thousand seals had washed up on shore this summer. . The Heron were skimming the ocean and  returning with small fish.
Soon after I left and worked my way up the steps and up a hill. Some kids played on top of a giant fir. I joined a few others on the #30 bus and too soon reality showed its ugly head.