Jeff’s Visit, day eight, or Lemonade, anyone?
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jeffbear63 got all packed up and ready to go while I was burning his DVD of the zip files for Sun Solaris 10 for him. He had been in a class all week for it and had downloaded the final Beta version of it. It is about to be released – tomorrow, I believe, so he wanted to get a version of it before it the production version was released and it was no longer free to download. He also had the photographs of Fiesta that I took on his camera on his laptop, so he zipped them up and put them on his USB flash drive and I plugged that in to my hub and moved them all over to my photos directory. I’ll be posting more Fiesta photos soon!
It was time to get him to the airport, so we filled the tank of the van at the Shell station at 8th and Harrison, then got on to the 101 toward the airport. My plan was to take him to Lyon’s in South San Francisco, but I couldn’t quite remember how to get there, so we broke our fast at Crepes on Grand, where we had wonderfully delicious stuffed crepes and home fries. Jeff had Chicken Almondine crepe with breast meat, toasted almonds, portobello mushrooms, and provolone; I had the Country Boy, with Ham, bell peppers, tomatoes, onions, cheddar, and avocado (I had that added on myself). Scrumptious, and not terribly expensive, too! I can recommend this place.
We both seemed reluctant to get up and actually go to the airport, but time was slowly ticking away, and we got back into the van, greeted B’harnie, and drove to the airport, incidentally passing that fortunately misremembered Lyon’s along the way. The beautifully blue sky was open and expansive, but my heart was joyous yet heavy with the knowledge that my Papa-bear was leaving me again for a time, but he’ll be back for IBR.
We pulled up in front of the Delta terminal, I unloaded his suitcase from the back of the van while he said goodbye to B’harnie. We hugged each other until the sun stood still in the sky, then Jeff grabbed his case’s handle and wheeled it inside. I drove home on the 280, listening to the Prairie Home Companion’s musical guest, The Geezers, a bluegrass jug band.
The day has firmed my desire to figure out how to be with my menfolk in Colorado. These partings tear my guts out and shred them for taco meat.
Time to clean my massage room. Life as a small businessman still has to go on for me here.
