Seattle to Lake Havasu day Five

"It sure is strange, the heat here."
Yup. Strange and wonderful. Dad will adjust quickly, no doubt. Funny how quickly you forget,though. My sister called from Seattle, driving with the wipers on high, struggling to keep up with the torrent.
This is our first S to LHC 'snowbird' commute, so I haven't seen Dad's house after six months of abandonment. Actually, it seems pretty good to me. The garage door is off it's drive chain, so the guy who checks on the house must have ran it up and down, and had a problem. I fixed it. I FIXED IT. Wow! Singlehandedly figured it out. Nothing short of a miracle.
The toilet is another issue, leaking when flushing. I know I could fix it too, but there's no time for Lowe's. Dad will need to call a plumber. And that's the rub; I want to stay and help. Prune the srubs, clean the house, repair the sprinkler, the toilet, and...just help. But I know these jobs keep Dad young.
Okay, time for a wrap up. Ranting, raving, muttering and musing.
The rant:
The federal government, which has unlimited money, build a really cool bridge over the Colorado River, eliminating the serpentine, slow, with a strip-search, over the dam route. Wonderful! But why oh why did they build the barriers so high we can't enjoy the view into the canyon? Simple. Safety. Who cares? 250,000 people could enjoy the view, and one idiot crashes his car. I say let us enjoy, and let him suffer the cosequences!
The Rave:
People. We stopped in and surprised Alton, an old friend of Dad's. He was thrilled to see us. Then we surprised (originally, shocked and frightened) a really old friend of Dad's, Virginia, who hadn't seen him since she was nine. That was around 78 years ago. Dad only had an address, no phone, so we dropped in at 8 one night. She and Bernie rolled out the red carpet for us. And all our relatives in Seattle, Reno and Las Vegas were a delight.
Muttering:
Seems like someone has a corner on road cones and barricades. Every construction site has them, almost touching. Looks like a billion too many, to me. But we're keeping it safe for total idiots.
Musing:
Do you ever wonder if the speed limit was as fast as a horse could walk, would we be less stressed and more friendly? Ah, well. I usually wish the speed limit was a hundred.
So that's it. The Old Man is safe in Lake Havasu City. He still drives locally, so Lake Havasu City may not be quite as safe.
I know Dad feels a sense of loss as he must be chauffeured on road trips. It seems like every day his world shrinks a bit, and what once was a no-brainer now becomes a challenge. However, I feel like a winner on the driving side of things, as I get great one on one time with my wise old man. Hopefully, violating a lifetime of tradition, some of it will rub off.
One more day, one more adventure.