With only hours left before Christmas, the pressure is on. Jeanne spent most of the morning wrapping Christmas presents and I was dispatched to deliver them to various family locations around Santa Paula. Being Santa is not bad duty; you are always well received.
In the early afternoon the plan was to meet a good friend, I’ll call him Z, at the Oak Tree trap range in Valencia. I left the coach in plenty of time intending to fuel the car, update the computer and do a little last-minute shopping. I got about 20 miles before discovering my wallet was still quietly resting at the coach. Damn! Driving like a bat-out-of-hell with a shotgun in the vehicle and no driver license. Most problems in life are self-inflicted. There was only one thing to do: return to the coach before running out of gas. Driving like a model-citizen, I made it back to the coach, fetched the wallet and mercifully made it to a gas station before running out of fuel.
Already fifteen minutes late, traffic slowed to a crawl when I got to I-5. It was the curse of Los Angeles traffic and absolutely nothing could be done about it. Arriving thirty minutes late, I found Z napping in the warm California sun. After apologies, we shot four rounds of trap in a howling wind before retreating inside to visit. It was good seeing Z again and we promised to keep in touch during the next year.
On the ride home, the traffic had noticeably worsened. My only stops were to update the computers and do some last-minute stocking-stuffer shopping. Arriving at the coach, I spent thirty minutes recovering from freeway-shock.
We spent the rest of the evening quietly reading.