Packing

California gave me a warm farewell in the form of a 5-day heat wave -- it was even longer, by 4 or 5 days, for most of California. I've been more and more sensitive to heat as I get older -- though this started in my 40s, it's probably a symptom of Parkinson's Disease. It exacerbates the fatigue that overtakes me after I do chores, so that instead of having to take a break after an hour of chores, I am practially suffering heat exhaustion after working for 15 minutes. On Tuesday we punted and went to a hotel in South San Francisco for three days and sat it out there.

Actually we might have toughed it out, but for the cat. He doesn't like hot days either. So we took him along.

It seemed odd to spend part of my last week in California in a hotel instead of at home, and especially so at this anonymously bland "suites" hotel. It had an especially empty, blank character, like a furniture showroom or a set for a play at a theater that is closed for the day. Eventually the cat made himself at home there, and we were able to sleep.

Packing isn't fun. When in doubt, I have to remind myself that I'm going to a world city where everything is abailable, in cluding Amazon. It's not that I'm tempted to bring 15 t-shirts; I recognize that Europeans under 40 rarely wear them, and then only if they are fit; I am neither. What I'm tempted to bring is every darned unguent and medicament because I'm afraid that even if it's available in Spain I won't know what to call it. Come se dice "Hydrocortisone 1% cream," for example. It only weighs a couple of ounces, throw it in! That's how I wind up with bags that are going to weight 40 lbs.