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At last, the final chapter of tomatoes
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So I just had a few things to mention after far too long. Here I am writing about a convention in March and it's the middle of May. Oh the things I did in the meantime.

What I wanted to say first off is that Sacramento was, as I'd hoped, an interesting city. The history, the awareness that it's the state capitol, architecture, all drove my interest. One thing about restaurants that we noted. While this could be just in downtown, several restaurants make sure you know the name of the chef. Is this an affectation? No, i don't think so. The equivalent here would be, probably to mention a place as a"Tom Douglas" restaurants or to tell folks it's the home of the "Chef with the Hat", But we saw in at least three places we went to, the Chef was identified and spoken of with enthusiasm. One of those paces was the hotel restaurant which was, no kidding, really, pretty damn good. I'd had breakfast with my wonderful friend Keith and had loved the lemon ricotta pancakes but my gut was still iffy, so did not eat a lot. Stu and I had already found coffee places for me (the hotel's version was NEVER open) but as we had the liesure on Monday, we stopped to eat at the hotel restaurant. Which impressed me. We ate will and had great service. One of those who waited on us, i had pegged as a dancer, and yep, I was right. Boy did she look it. And awful nice. the other person was so nice. After Ihad - what was that, the Dungeness Crab Salad, I think, I had to go for dessert. Asking what the heck buttermilk ice cream is got me a huge sample. I went for it, with caramel sauce and sugared pecans, or something nutsy like that. oh wow. Served in a huge cocktail glass (as the yogurt parfait was served in) buttermilk ice cream is a slightly tangy, rich far more than vamilla ice cream. Apparently house-made by this chef dude. Well, all right!

We had time to kick back and after checking out I asked the desk clerk if there was any change Jimmy was in house. He had said if I needed something to ask for Jimmy, he was the only one there. And it worked. In only a few minutes, Jimmy showed up. I hastened to assure it all was well, but I wanted to thank him for his courtesies to me and to comment on how well his hotel (except that damn coffee shop?) treated LCC. As it turned out, I hadn't read his name tag before, but he was Our Guy at the Sheraton. the liaison, the one who worked everything out with Cindy and Robin and their staff.

I wanted to tell him "I've done this. I know how hard ti is." Because I have. And I do. And to be sure again to apologize to the staff for, I was afraid, accidentally exposing them to norovirus. That the convention seemed to go smoothly, that people were having a good time, that our needs were taken care of both when I got sick and when we asked the hotel electrician for help. His extra courtesies to me were not the usual. Come to find out, his awareness comes in part from the fact that he's got a disabled family member. But carrying out and knowing that often that back door is better than another door and to fetch me tea (when he couldn't know how lousy I was doing) impressed me.

I don't know if/when I will be back in Sacramento. I do know that I'd at least love to check out the sleeping rooms at the Citizen Hotel, but this Sheraton made points with me. And I admit that our few days there made me start wondering how people who live in or near Sacramento like it. Some day, Stu and i might move - there will come a point I suspect when the weather, the dampness, etc. will be too much. We've mostly said that we'd head to the Southwest in that case but, I'm wondering out accessible and friendly the Sacramento area is (except for those horrid tram tracks). Just wondering.

There. Done. Yhank you for your patience.


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