Last summer I started looking at homes for sale in the country. My husband and I think we would make great retired country squires. Actually, I won’t be able to retire until I’m about 80, so I’m beginning to suspect that country living would be folly for me to consider at that age. It doesn’t deter me in the least from dreaming about it and making up lovely stories of how my life would be if I lived in the country (minus the snakes and other creepy critters, which although they abound in the country…they will abound in someone else’s yard).
I love adventures into the unknown. I found a subdivision of modular homes in Somerset and thought, given the low price, it would be fun to visit. I even called a realtor and set up an appointment. I’m excited. I got my sister excited. Even my husband seemed excited to look at something semi-affordable in California. And from the looks of the photos on the website, it would be just the type of living we have been dreaming about!
My sister Mary stayed overnight so we could get an early start. We happily, merrily, gaily set off for Placerville. I checked the weather on Yahoo…only 99 degrees. No problem. We've got air conditioning after all. La la la we all muse, what happy little wanderers we are. We'll check out some of the area. Who knows what sights we might catch?
La la la won't this be fun. Somerset. What a beautiful name.
We zoomed along and hit Folsom. Good heavens. They've razed the area of all vegetation and built homes. Lots of homes. A mini overly-congested Bay Area…with heat. 103 degree heat inching towards 104. Interesting. The air conditioner … has fainted. Seems extreme heat puts the air conditioner into a snit. Fine. Who needs ya anyway? I brought cold water and cold packs in a cooler. I prepare for any situation when I set out on my adventures.
La la la. We get to Placerville. 105 degrees and inching higher. My la's were a little on the droopy side.
Turned south on highway 49. What an adventure we're having! We're headed toward country life and relaxed fresh air living.
Road gets windy. Road stays windy. Only more so. Round and round we go. One of us is very quiet now. Did I tell you my sister gets car sick? Perhaps I forgot to mention that in my excitement over this epic tale of a great adventure.
"Uh Mary?" She sounds a little…weak. Like the air conditioner. Uh oh. “Mary”, I say. “You okay?” “Not really”, she says faintly, anti-carsick wrist bands notwithstanding.
We pulled over and I switched places with her. She got one of the cold packs and puts it on her head.
Oh la. Look at the fun we're having now.
Only 10 more miles of switchbacks to go.
It's 106 degrees.
But I've got Mary's yummy bag of cookies in the backseat. I always seem to wind up near the food. I have good karma.
I have no more La la's in me now. 106 degree heat and no air conditioning sucked them right out of me. And I think my husband and Mary said something about "stuff a cookie in it" when I tried to sing the praises of the country landscape.
We finally get to the subdivision. Mary slides out of the car. Looks a little bent and weak as though she can't stand up straight. I don't think that's a look of recovery.
Outside of the house looks pretty good. Realtor was there and we went inside. Hmmm. Moderately okay. Too bad the air conditioning wasn't working in the house. What is it with heat and air conditioners??
Mary still looks bent and weak. Sits on a stool and puts her head down. I dawdle as long as I possibly can to give her time to recover. But Lord that house is hot inside!
I wonder if we have to go back on the same road. That could be a big problem.
I hate this house and the area now. I think it killed Mary. I'm pretty sure my family will blame me.
We drive around the subdivision just to take a little look. Uh no. Not at all what I had expected. Not at all a place where I'd want to live…or die. And it's miles and miles...and windy miles before you can get to a darn grocery store. Know what I mean??
Somerset. What a lousy name.
The kindly realtor gave us a different (straighter) way to drive to get out. Whew. Only mildly curvy…which is only mildly better for Mary.
It’s still 106 degrees. I guess that's good for the vineyards that are all through this valley. But still bad for the darned air conditioner. Did I mention that?
We stopped in Plymouth, hoping for a nice little restaurant and a bathroom. Restaurant for Sid who is getting on the peckish side, and the bathroom for Mary who can only sit with her head down and mumble incoherently about the dangers of following me on my adventures.
The suggestion to go to the pizza restaurant only made her roll her eyes heavenward. I think she might have asked God to smite me down.
There are no more restaurants in town. But there is a public bathroom. A brick thing with bars at the top. Interesting how they turned an old jail into a bathroom…that doesn't have toilet paper.
And it's still 106 degrees.
After doing our duty, we sat down on big rocks that lined the outside of the jail/toilet. Hung our heads and talked about how much we hated the country and modular homes. And heat and small crappy towns. And names like Somerset, Placerville, Folsom and Plymouth.
The town of Plymouth is bereft of any charm, beauty, or good living. I think the jailhouse/toilet sans paper should say it all.
And it's 106 degrees.
We pile/slink/dribble back to the car and head for Jackson. I don't recall there being any real good restaurants there, but food is food I guess. And Mary just wants someplace cool to sit. Still. Very still. No movement, no curves, no roundabouts. Just quiet, motionless, cool sitting.
Oh la, it's just 104 degrees now.
Fortunately, we hit Sutter's Creek first. They have at least one decent restaurant that Sid and I have eaten at before. Whew.
We had a leisurely lunch, asked the waiter about a "straight" way to go home. Mary drank 7-up and ate little salted crackers. Slowly. Sid and I had sandwiches. We also ate very slowly to give everyone time to cool off and Mary time to get her stomach in driving order. We agreed again that we hate the area and its killer roads and killer weather. It's unanimous then. We have the grateful outlook of survivors after a major disaster.
We found a better way to get home so as not to upset fragile Mary any further.
It's hovering between 103 and 104.
A major traffic jam has my husband saying some foul words. I hope they don't blame me for the adventure gone wrong.
I've still got the cookies in the back seat.
At 102 degrees, the air conditioner starts to work again. See how happy we are for small things? My La la's have returned, Mary's hungry and the traffic starts to move.
My adventure made everyone grateful to be home in 80 degree weather.
See how good I am at putting life into perspective for everyone?
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