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Tip of the day: If you make oatmeal “stiff enough,” you can eat it easily with a fork. That revelation came to me courtesy of my lack of a spoon in my new apartment. I typically would toast a bagel for breakfast, but I also lack a toaster.

What I do have are a bed and reading lamp in the bedroom; shower curtain, toothbrush holder, and soap dispenser in the bathroom; and a can opener, spatula, and hot pads in the kitchen — all acquisitions this past weekend.

I won’t regale/bore you with all the messy details of my second stage in moving (the first being from Palm Springs to Extended Stay America), the list of possessions I failed to pack and/or buy this weekend or the mental/emotional toll of it all. I look forward to having furniture and a well-equipped kitchen (in which I particularly long for the luxury of a spoon and toaster — not that I would use them together, because poking metal objects in electrical appliances is not the best use of either, and, really, why would you want to insert a spoon into a toaster when a knife or fork is probably a better tool for retrieving something "stuck" in one). For now, at least I have a comfortable bed and reading light, microwave popcorn, my computer (which I am currently using as my audio system courtesy of Those things will get me by. My apartment is on the second floor of four and has a view of trees just beyond the windows. Things could be much worse.

I miss Palm Springs, especially my friends and my home. And I worry a little about the house and yard. I worry that all the fig tree leaves have fallen and there's no one there to pick them. I am renting it (the house, not the fig tree) to a repertory company for five weeks in January-February to house a professional actress who is coming to town for one of their productions. So when I take the third step in my transition to San Diego (moving the items that couldn’t be accommodated in my car or extended-stay room), I have to be careful not to take things she may want/need/expect to have (i.e., the toaster).

I feel out of touch with news of the world — yes, I know Kate is pregnant, but you can find that out standing in line at the grocery store (where yesterday I took all the San Diego Home/Garden Lifestyles magazines out of the rack and turned them right side up) and miss listening to music in my car. For driving around my new environs, I lend my attention to the voice of my GPS.

OK, what am I forgetting? (like in moving I forgot a spoon, screwdriver, and at least one T-shirt!) Well, if it comes to me later, I'll put it in my next blog.

Janice Kleinschmidt

P.S. In full disclosure, the woman pictured above is not me. You can tell because she's eating with a spoon.

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ArtWalk NTC @ Liberty Station photo by Paul Nestor

The first time I attended an outdoor art festival, I bought a small print. This was long before I could consider myself a collector, but I recall that even making a nominal investment (about $15) provided me with a sense of satisfaction. For the record, it was the Plaza Art Fair in Kansas City, Mo., which marks its 83rd year next month.

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