Housework

Immediately on actually plopping-down into my new place, i set about  fixing  it up, starting with paint.   At first I was just going to re-paint the walls but noticed that the moldings had been repainted so many times they had become a blur.  So I undertook to strip the paint from the window frames.  A note on July 26 says, "still stripping." A note for July 28 says "Standard Brands and hardwood for couches."  A note for August 1 says "am moved in, major painting finished." 

But that was only the beginning of what would be an ongoing building and decorating project.  The Farm House apartment was advertised as a "one bedroom."  It was really a studio with alcoves, including bathroom and kitchenette.   My basic idea was to build a fold-out bed arrangement in the main room and use the entire alcove bedroom for an office.  But as I could never quite finish my own designs for a pull out couch/bed, i mostly ended up turning the alcove into a bunk-and-desk quarters.

A More Pedestian View

View from the Farm House Porch

A Pre-Google Earth View

 

JP was keeping his distance but he invited me for a fly-over on July 25th and we met at his hangar up by Miramar

After Jim meticulously primed the pumps, we took off in his tin can

landed

 took off again

(i think he needed to log hours)

and then cut his engine just to terrify me

before flying all over the greater San Diego

this was in pre-Google Earth days and was the only way to get terrain over-view

I was glad to put feet to ground though.

Disengagement

A week later, everything was wrapped up.  I dropped boxes of books and papers at the UPS station at the base of Portrero Hill and, in the evening, had dinner with Charles at “Rings”  The following morning, I irrevocably handed the apartment over to Grant (who was glad to finally see me go) and took the train down to San Diego.

As the train slowly pulled out of the station, I at last began to feel truly disengaged ...

Perhaps life would be sunnier

Haulings

"Stuff"

 I probably drove up with Michael Throughton in his van who was making some kind of move himself. 

 

I certainly drove back down with him.  Per receipts, we rented a hitch trailer, which would have been used to haul my chairs and round table.  Per log, we left on July 7th.

We must have driven all night. On July 8th, we returned the trailer to U Haul and I paid pro-rated first month’s rent on the “Farm House”

I deposited furniture and at least some belongings, before returning to San Francisco by plane on July 9th where I disposed the rest of my stuff. º1

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º1   I never knew what to do with all of Mother's junk except catalogue and store it in a dank "basement" alcove at Lombard Street, seen above.   The  Lowery's offered me their basement garage and during the return time I re-packed and hauled the two steamer trunks and suitcases (rt) to their place.  (The metal frames, desk, ammo box and other items were hauled down to San Diego. So too the statue of St. George which mother had given to me in 1971(box far back & left)  and which remained in its packing from 1976.)  I gave two wood-couch frames I had built to Pat and Ellin.   Pat picked them up in his pickup and may have been the one who ported mother's junk to the Lowery's. 

Twilight on Five

I left a deposit and returned by car to San Francisco. My cash logs say: “7/4 Gas  SFO-SDO, snacks; Lunch at Grapevine; Dinner Sta. Nella." I have no memory at all of the return trip except this  lovely photograph which was taken at dinner time.

Views of Haunts from the Sky

Move would better be said “moves” as the "trans-locational" would take several steps.  From Lombard Street I took a cab to the airporter and then flew down to San Diego on South West (Fl 127) on July 1st.   The the two minute flight flew over San Francisco provided a flash-back of the previous six years taking quick note the places where I had worked, run and dragged my ass.

 

Somewhat symmetrically the descent to San Diego provided a foreglimpse of future haunts

(with yet another flash-back)

JP left me the key to his place in Mission Hills but as he was out of town my help and host was his gay friend Carl whom I took to dinner at La Fiesta in Old Town where we had big tasty plates of pseudo Mexican Mush.

The next two days, I rode around the Hillcrest / Bankers Hill area on Jim’s bike, looking for “RENT” signs.  It was not the most efficient way to look for a place, but Jim was indifferently confident that I would find something.  I did.