Our weekend get-away began yesterday with a stay at Black Oak Casino in Tuolumne primarily so Grandma and Grandpa could have an evening of Tom Rigney and Flambeau music. The idea was to wear JJ out in the swimming pool and then let him enjoy a peaceful evening in a luxurious room.

The music part was extraordinary with the band fired up on a high stage overlooking a crowded dance floor. We snagged a prime table near the front of the lounge with a perfect view of the band and the dancers. The music was grand as always. The dancers were entertaining to watch. The food part was not so extraordinary. We opted for the seafood buffet which turned out to be a $23 each disappointment. Order off the menu if you happen to go there.

Pokémon was a bit of a bust for JJ. He sneaked out of the room while we were listening to music since he couldn’t get decent internet from inside but the guard sent him back to his room. Meanwhile he demagnetized his key and I had to go rescue him.

Even though we didn’t have the best of luck, we are spending another night in this area, staying at the old Sonora Inn.  JJ doesn’t believe in ghosts but he is excited to stay here with the possibility that one might appear. We have a two room suite, the only room that was left and kind of expensive, but JJ is more than happy to have his own space. The best part for him is that we are located right between two Pokemon stops so he can gather balls and critters all night. His phone is on the charger while he and grandpa swim in the rooftop pool. I’m getting my 20 minutes writing in but confess I am allowing myself brief interruptions to gather balls for JJ. I don’t want to hear him complaining again about missing the opportunity to catch a rare Pokemon because he has no balls and then complaining more when he finds out grandma was successful in capturing the coveted creature.

Took care of another issue today. JJ has been begging for a haircut. We found this cute little red barbershop on the edge of town and chanced a visit without an appointment. They guy was hesitant at first but since his scheduled appointment had not arrived yet, he agreed to do a quick cut. It was on $10. Since I’m used to paying $20, I paid him $15. I thought JJ was happy. Not until we got to the car did he mention that the guy “squared off” the forehead line and he thinks he looks like an alien. I can’t seem to win.

So JJ and Grandpa are off to the rooftop pool. I elected not to go when I saw that there is not one tiny bit of shade up there. Not a good place to hang out in over 100 degree weather. Maybe the pool water is refreshing. I might reconsider when my writing time is up. That is if they are not back by then.

The hotel has a bit of an old smell, almost like what you expect when you enter an antique store. The furniture is antique, the carpet worn, in spite of them saying it was revitalized in 2012. The bathtub in JJ’s room is large, deep, and probably never replaced. JJ’s comment was, “you could drown in there.” Well, possibly you could but it would be a long wait to fill it up. Water is a mere trickle and barely warm. The flooring in the bathrooms is relatively new tile but it looks like the only upgrades may have been new toilets. The beds are comfortable. We have a fridge, coffee maker and microwave so that’s a plus. There’s a small table and desk but only one chair. The other bedroom has a king sized bed and one small lounge chair. Fortunately, the in window air conditioners seem to be working fairly well. We get to check out old photos around the room in throughout the halls as we creak across the squeaky floors. I could hear Grandpa and JJ talking from the end of the hall and there’s a lot of street noise. We give in to all that and to enjoy the quaintness.

Eric already tested the bar across the street and noted the shop next to it has two dresses he thinks are just my style. So I looked. Not exactly my style. I’m 67 and don’t go braless, spaghetti strapped, or above the knee. That does not go well with flappy upper arms and road mapped white legs. Eric is dreaming of last night on the dance floor where style didn’t matter. The chubby lady wearing what looked like a skirted bathing suit was a good dancer but those chubby legs kind of wobbled with the beat above the knee. Her husband must have told her she looked great. That’s what husbands do. I’ve learned not to listen to mine. He needs a new pair of eyeglasses.