December 27, 2025- It sits across the street, like a monument to the end of an era. There it will receive its load, over the next few days, as my Prescott home is dismantled. It will “watch” silently, as furniture collectors come and go; as a cleaning crew arrives to remove twelve years of my footprint.
This Penske and I made it to the former Home Base I around 8:30, this evening. There was no one around, and as I collected a small amount of mail & newspapers, the night remained silent. Only the heater interrupted the stillness, providing its comfort with an occasional clanging and blowing.
The day started out much differently. Almara Inn’s housekeepers, a spirited team of three women, were on the job and bantering, not long after I got myself together. One of them, seeing no vehicle in front of the room, thought I had left and was delighted by the prospect of finishing early. I didn’t dampen her spirits by much, though, as I was out by 9:30.
Breakfast at Del’s was a quiet delight. The house was full, and my meal, ample. Two families were among the crowd, quietly keeping conversation. Two little girls, one clutching a doll, made me think of our Hana. It doesn’t take much to bring her top of mind. That will probably be so, for the rest of my life.
The road west was fairly uneventful. I was reminded, at a fuel stop in Albuquerque, to avoid tight spaces with this rig. No harm done, though, and I was able to gas up there, and again in Holbrook. I stopped for lunch at Dancing Eagle, in Laguna, and opted for the casino snack bar, over the busier full service restaurant. The small crew at the snack bar was working just as hard, and prepared a decent chicken quesadilla.
The storm that had ravaged southern California, earlier this week, made its presence known as I went through Flagstaff. It was no where near as fierce as it had been, though, and by the time I reached the Sedona junction, there was no sign of precipitation. The sizeable group of travelers kept in order, and we all made it safely downhill.
Once off I-17, there was scant traffic, and on up to Prescott we went-the last time I will make that trip as a resident. Three more days, and this soon-to-be Texan will carry Arizona in heart, only returning as a visitor, now and then-just as I do to Massachusetts and Maine.