Charleston and Saint James Island

Tuesday December 11

After our lovely stay in Asheville we got up this morning and headed south on I-26 into South Carolina. The trip was uneventful, except for the drop in elevation from the North Carolina landscape into the low flat world of South Carolina. One really nice thing about SC are the Visitor Centers. The first one we encountered as we entered the state had impressive digital displays and really kind helpful people who made phone calls to be sure that our RV park had a place for us and gave us a ton of free maps and information.

Through the midsection of the state, I was unimpressed, except for the warm temperatures, things seemed fairly boring. There was a lot of pollution around Columbia, but we still enjoyed stopping for lunch at a rest area and eating outside in the warm sunshine.

We had a free camping night given to us by Mo’s family friend, Millie, so drove into Savannah looking for the Saint James Island County Park. After some circling around the bridges and rivers we finally found it. It was currently hosting one of the major attractions in the area, the Holiday Christmas Show. It was early enough in the afternoon that after we set up we drove down to Folly Beach and walked the Atlantic Ocean for the first time on the trip. There were a lot of vacation rentals on Folly beach, but we found a place to park with a parking meter for a buck and took the dog out to the water.

When we drove back home, the Holiday Light Festival had begun so we got in free because we were camped there and drove slowly through the display with all the other locals. It was “magical” as Mo kept saying, lots of creativity and color and animation. The only bad part was the number of people driving diesel pickups very very slowly. Yuk, what a nasty smell.

The dog park was already closed because of the show so we planned that one for the next day. Dinner was something simple at home that I don’t remember now, as we usually eat cheese and crackers or something like that if we have a good lunch.

Wednesday December 12
I was really glad that we decided to take it easy and camp two nights at the county park on Saint James Island because it gave us time to relax and enjoy ourselves some more without having to move. Finally got a chance to have the awning up and park long enough to put up the party lights I bought for the MoHo with the tricolored chili pepper lights as well. Very festive, but not nearly as festive as some of the big motorhomes in the park were. It was fun, and I finally got my cute lights, although I did refrain from buying flamingo lights.

Wednesday morning we left around 9 so we wouldn’t get caught in too much traffic going into Charleston. It’s actually not that big a city, with maybe 80,000 population in the city itself with some communities around on the other islands that run in the 30’s. There are lots of bridges and water and Charleston was every big as magical as I thought it would be. We went first to the Visitor Center where they even had garage parking especially for RV’s, which worked out great since the boats were too high to fit under the poles in the regular garage parking. The visitor center was another digital wonder of the state of South Carolina and helped us a lot in understanding what to see and do on foot in Charleston.

Spent half the day walking the city following a city walking map with the history and story of many of the homes and buildings. The port of Charleston was the only place that wasn’t blockaded completely during the Civil War where the southerners were able to bring in supplies. Fort Sumter is a tiny island out in the harbor, and the history of the Civil War is a big part of Charleston. What I didn’t realize, however, is that Charleston history goes back to pre-revolutionary days and that many of the homes and buildings were from the early 1700’s long before the Revolutionary War. Of course, SC was one of the original 13 states and it shows in the city of Charleston. We saw several homes of signers of the Declaration of Independence,

Thanks to a SC magazine we got at on of the centers, we knew about Justine’s Kitchen, so when we passed it on our walk we recognized the name.
Justine was the daughter of a slave who worked for a woman in Charleston and took care of her children. Justine lived to be 112 years old and her cooking was legendary. One of the daughters opened the restaurant and it has been written up in Southern Living, the New York Times, Conde Nast, and many other publications as one of the best southern restaurants that exist.

Lunch at Justine’s was a highlight. Actually sitting next to us was a reporter from some food show on Sirius radio who was recording his gastronomic experience and talking to the owner while we ate. The best part is that it was so comfortable, homey, and warm. I had an awful time choosing from a menu of southern wonders, and finally settled on a pork chop, baked macaroni and cheese, and fried okra, with pecan pie for desert, and of course a big glass of sweet tea. It was a meal made in heaven for my inner southern soul and the addition of some kind of sweetened vinegar fresh cucumbers and the hush puppies we had given to us on the street made it all the more magical.

After exploring as much as our feet would allow, we went back to our park to give Abby time to swim in the great dog park and play with all the other dogs. She is finally beginning to understand that she is a dog but still isn’t quite into all the friendly puppy play and keeps looking back at her mom for approval. But she does love to swim and loves to play ball. Lots of other dogs there playing ball and swimming, and even a dog washing area as you leave the park to get all the sand and mud off the doggie paws.

After our little respite, we drove back into Charleston to explore the Pleasure Island part of town east of the river and to drive over the Ravenel Bridge, the longest span in this part of the world, white, dramatic, and gorgeous. Checked out the beaches at Mt Pleasant, then found our way back home through the light show to settle in for the evening and rest our weary feet.

Charleston SC and Edisto Beach SC

On the beach in South Carolina.
The reason for the December travels. There is a cold front moving along a line stretching from southwest to northeast just behind us, and we are in 80 degree weather with clear blue skies. I have written a bunch about Charleston yesterday and Edisto Beach today, but the delights of being on a barrier island on the Atlantic include 1 bar on the att broadband card, so photos and conversation will have to wait. In the meantime, I am enjoying the humidity, the velvet air, the live oaks over the roads, the salt marshes, the South. All I love about northern Florida is here in South Carolina in the Low Country. Amazing.

Nashville to Asheville

Monday afternoon , December 10, 2007

I’m a bit late getting started on week two of our travels, been having too much fun, I guess. Last I wrote, we were in Nashville in the fog. At the moment I am sitting at the Bad Fork Valley Overlook on the Blue Ridge Parkway south of Asheville. Lots of “villes” around Tennessee and North Carolina. It was foggy this morning but right now the skies are soft and shapely, with fluffy misty clouds and the classic faded blues and grays of the Smoky Mountains. Layer upon layer of shape and soft color (that almost isn’t color at all unless you look closely) stretch out to the southwest toward the late afternoon sun. Looking up close are thick piles of brown leaves on the forest floor and more layers of bare trees thickly blanketing the mountains. The rhododendrons beneath the trees are thick and glossy green covered with fat buds waiting for spring, and they look as though they have been pruned carefully by some crazy obsessive mountain gardener.

I have the chance to write at this moment because we are waiting for two wreckers to clear the parkway of a Hummer that went over the cliff yesterday. I took photos of the Hummer, and the amazing thing is that both passengers walked away, or up as it may be, up a very long and very steep mountainside. Everyone here is standing around watching and waiting for the road to open up again.

But I digress. Where was I? Saturday in Nashville, Tennessee. Nashville is a city that I would compare to Portland in size and the way it is laid out. There are rivers that surround the city on several sides and it’s a bit confusing to find your way around, but after a couple of trips back and forth we got the hang of it in spite of the fog. The fog was a bummer, because we really couldn’t see much. Nashville would be a place to visit for a week or two actually, there’s a lot to see there. We settled for checking out the beautiful urban park downtown that houses a perfect replica of the Parthenon in Greece, called….the Parthenon. It was awe inspiring, actually, with a huge statue of Athena that was covered in gold leaf in the temple that was also a replica of what the historians believe that the original statue looked like. Reminded me a lot of the huge Buddha that we saw in Thailand, the reclining Buddha, and tempted me to ponder humankind’s love of those big religious images. They do create some interesting internal responses in me, for whatever reason, I have no idea.

After walking the foggy but truly love park we drove downtown to Broadway, parked on the street, kayaks and all, and went walking. Music poured into the streets from the bars, even on an early Saturday afternoon. It was Nashville’s honky tonk row. I saw a great looking building, and kept taking photos of it for no reason other than it looked so wonderful. We then dropped into the Stage saloon where Hank Williams, Loretta Lynn, and a bunch of others have played and had an Irish Coffee and listened to a country band sing a song they had written called “Livin’ on a Tip Jar on Broadway”, while they passed the tip jar. It was an experience. We ambled on down the road and back to the car to go home and get ready for our evening out.

Evening was the classic tradition for Nashville, the Grand Ole Opry, and Mo got tickets for us that included the bus ride into town so we didn’t have to drive it. The Grand Ole Opry has moved out of downtown Nashville to a place called Opryland, with a big resort and a new fancy venue that holds a lot more people, but this month it is being held instead at the old location in downtown Nashville called the Ryman Theater. To our laughter, turns out the Ryman was the building that I kept taking photos of earlier. So we were tickled to be in the historic theater seeing the classic show that was also being televised for the CMT channel. Instead of just music and such, we had continuous commercial interruptions throughout the show, which made it feel pretty campy, but the whole thing was a great experience anyway.

Most of the people on the program were not that famous, at least not people we were familiar with, and there were a few new ones that we hadn’t heard of either, but we had fun anyway. Just glad to say that we did it at least.

Sunday Morning December 9 we woke up early ready to roll. It was supposed to be a short day but the fog and dreariness made it seem longer than the 300 miles we had planned to arrive in Asheville. We decided to get off the freeway, I-40, and travel a Tennessee Scenic Byway, 70. We laughed a lot about how 70N goes east and west, and 70S has nothing to do with south. In face we were on a couple of roads that say for instance 70 east and 441 south, and they are the same road. No wonder I get all mixed up east of the Mississippi. The drive was lovely though, in spite of the gray skies, and every once in awhile some thought of light tried to emerge. Later in the afternoon we went through Pigeon Forge, an historic town on the north side of the Great Smoky Mountains and couldn’t believe all the attractions that lined the highway on both sides for miles. It was in the vicinity of Dollywood and looked as though it was Disneyland on a highway with lots of traffic, even in the winter. I can’t imagine what a mess that place would be during the tourist seasons in June and October.

Onward via HWY 441 towards the park and came to another gateway town, although this one was a bit smaller, but still filled with shops and hotels and restaurants and tourists. Lots of really big resorts and a gondola with a view of the Smokies. Our first views of the Smokies were a surprise as well, because they are a lot bigger and steeper than I imagined them to be. We started to head for Asheville and then backtracked and decided to go over the mountains through the park. It was a truly gorgeous drive, even in the fog, but a bit hard to get pictures.

Finally arrived in Asheville and tried to find the Wal Mart that was our destination. I had directions from Google, but Asheville is really a mountain city with lots of roads that go in circles. It didn’t help that it was thick foggy weather, either. We got off the freeway a couple of times and finally gave up and called the wal mart for directions. Even then it was hard to find but when we finally did we went inside and thanked the two ladies that talked us in. Lots of laughter on that one, and thank goodness it was a walmart that allows parking overnight for travelers.

Monday December 10

This morning we woke to still more fog. After three days of fog and gray skies we were rather tired of it, but we started up the generator and heard the good news that the fog was supposed to lift and today was to be a record high day. We were a bit worried about the baby car so decided to take it to a AAA recommended repair shop across town and set off in the fog with the GPS leading the way. Found the station and left the car there, headed for a great southern spot for biscuits and gravy, and watched the fog lift.

The Biltmore is the big thing that everyone says you should do in Asheville, but after looking at the 55 per person price of admission we thought better of it. Some other trip we can do that. We decided to check out down town Asheville and then drive the Blue Ridge Parkway.
At breakfast we found one of those great city maps with the easy streets and pictures of all the things to do and found a walking tour of Asheville that was perfect.

What an amazing, beautiful, fascinating, lovely city. Superlatives don’t come close to describing how I felt about Asheville. It’s just so artistic and full of energy and creativity without being all snobby and full of itself. As one of the websites said about the city, it never succumbed to urban renewal and so has an incredible array of architectural styles throughout the city that are unique and representative of the period. We walked through what they called the Frontier Period, the Gilded Age, the Thomas Wolfe Period, and the Era of Civic Pride. The most amazing thing was that there were so many streets and blocks that were vibrant and alive and full of restaurants and shops and churches and businesses and every on of them seemed like “Main Street”.

I think the most magnificent was the old Federal Building with its huge skylighted windows and Christmas decorations. There was even a fresh market inside that building for the people who lived there. There were other really tall old buildings that were all new and clean looking in spite of their age that were converted to apartments for people over 62 with the rent based on their income. It was amazing to see lots of older folks downtown hanging out in their mobo chairs with their little dogs. One lady told us about the apartments and said she loved living there. It is a truly vibrant city full of art and energy and fun.

After walking downtown for a few hours we headed up the Blue Ridge Parkway. The road is actually 469 miles long but we only got in on the last part here in North Carolina. The Parkway is a great idea that is actually a National Park that is a roadway made just for touring and gentle beautiful travel. A book I bought is called the “Guide to America’s Most Scenic Drive” and I think maybe they may be right. Almost. Mo and I both still agree that Highway 1 along the California coast is the most scenic drive we have been on, but the difference is that this one is a National Park and is made just for cars and tourists, no trucks, and no commercial traffic is allowed. What a great idea that would be for Hwy 1, except there are towns on that road and I suppose that might be a problem.

We ended the day back here in the Wal Mart parking lot with toasted cheese sandwiches and a glass of chardonnay sitting in our lawn chairs in our ready made patio in view of the Wal Mart sign as we watched the sunset. We even have a lovely park right behind the parking lot that has a greenway paved path all along the river here. Free parking with a patio and a park. Sure can’t beat that one!

Palestine, Arkansas

December 7, 2007

In Nashville at the Nashville Country RV Park comfortably settled in with cheese, crackers and salami and a great bottle of cabernet. Actually, cheap wine here is 10 bucks a bottle, but it’s Australian so of course it’s good. Love that blackberry overtone with hints of vanilla and chocolate in the Yellow Tail. Sigh. Nice evening. It’s been raining and more is coming, but for now it’s quiet.

Today I went to Palestine, Arkansas, where my mother was born. I stopped in at the Post Office to mail our Christmas cards and talked with the postmaster there about the Hurt family, the person listed on my mother’s birth certificate is Emmet Hurt, a barber. After much slow drawling kind southern conversation, interrupted by locals coming in for mailings and conversation, I got the phone number and address of a 90 year old lady who knows all the history of Palestine. And I was told very sweetly that "Palestyne" is in the Middle East and Palesteen is right here in Arkansas.

Just standing in that post office was a southern experience, with Mary the postmaster so kind and conversational, and I just waited and waited while she thought about people to call. Finally talked with a woman who married into the Hurt family who said, “Well, Emmet must have divorced that lady you are speaking of because later he married my aunt and they had no children.” Emmet is dead now, as are his two brothers. I am thinking that maybe the 90 year old lady Vada will remember the gossip of the time, but who knows what the reality is in this story.

My grandmother told me bits and pieces and refused to tell me the whole story, only alluding the intrigue and fear and secrets. I will never know for sure if this man Emmet Hurt is really my grandfather or if he was some kind of cover up to an even more secret story of my grandmother giving birth to a baby girl in Palestine Arkansas at the tender age of 15.

Another small piece of a story had something to do with my grandmother’s mother taking her to the train when in the midnight dark in the rain in an old wagon, getting stuck in the creek, and going fast because the situation was fearful, and my grandmother had to get out of town for her safety. She left my mother behind and went to Tulsa, where she worked as a photographer’s model while her mother took care of the baby back home in Palestine.

Stories. Part of all those stories that flew past my inner vision as I lay on the massage table at the Hot Springs. Do the stories really matter?

It was gray and cloudy as we crossed Arkansas today, with brown fields and brown trees with no leaves, and water that was gunmetal gray full of geese flying somewhere farther south.

Hot Springs Arkansas

Thursday December 6, 2007

8pm in Lake Catherine State Park, Arkansas
My grandmother lived near here, my mother was born here in Arkansas, maybe it’s genetic, the familiar feel of the hardwood forests here, my Cherokee heritage, past memories that aren’t even mine that I feel here in the Arkansas winter. I went to Hot Springs today, the Hot Springs national park, and to the original Buckstaff bathhouse established in 1912. Turned out to be a truly amazing experience, from the old tiles to the antique plumbing, the huge porcelain tubs, the huge linen bath sheets that they wrap around you as you go from treatment to treatment.

www.buckstaffbaths.com

It was really cold today, at least for what we expected in Arkansas, and gray all day. Maybe 45 degrees at best but really windy and damp. Cold.

Hot Springs is a magical space, at least the area around the actual hot springs was amazing. Old buildings that were once the heyday of the rich and famous coming for the water therapy that used to be considered so healing, even by the medical establishment.

John and Linda came in last night and we visited in the moho and then went to dinner at Chili’s and I had some truly tremendous ribs. It was a nice visit, and they drove back home after 9. He said he could do it, after all he was a truck driver. We talked a bit about trucking and Deanna and Keith and wondering how it all is going to go for them. We even managed to sit around and talk and visit in this tiny space with a modicum of comfort.

Mo was tired last night though, after driving in all that wind, and after “entertaining”. Today’s travels were a mere 138 miles from Van Buren to Hot Springs, and it still seemed like a long day. Mo didn’t partake of the baths, she isn’t susceptible to all that stuff the way I am. I’m so glad I didn’t miss it though.

Tonight the GSM broadband is less than non existent, so I suppose I won’t get to the internet, even though it says I am connected. Ah well. Out in the countryside of Arkansas.

East on I-40 December 5

Wednesday December 5, 2007

Driving east on I-40 again after a great night at Foss State Park in Oklahoma. Windy is the theme for today. I am surprised in a good way about the number of windmills generating power in this part of the country. Yesterday approaching Amarillo there were miles and miles of huge windmills. Bigger than the ones on the road by Livermore in California, if not quite as many. Now this morning we are passing many more and this time they are all generating. Good for the system, not so great for Moana trying to keep the moho on the road. Feels just like Nebraska again, and big trucks passing us throw us all over the road. She’s back to one hand on the steering wheel though, so maybe that’s a good sign. More trucks on the road today as well, since it has been fairly light for truck traffic until now.

We are approaching Oklahoma City and plan to go to the national memorial there. Even though we think of Ground Zero in New York, this incident in our history is every bit as terrifying, reminding us that terrorism isn’t just something that comes from outside, it’s all around us,

But last night in Foss State Park, any kind of terrorism or violence or problems with the world seemed very far away, unimaginable even. The park is in the rolling plains of western Oklahoma, just a reservoir really, but 8000 acres of lovely water that reflected the setting sun. The campground was very nearly empty, with big wide level paved sites with water and electric right next to the lake. We went for a walk and Abby got to finally swim, first time on the trip. The water was so calm and lovely in the reflected light, luminous and magical, changing shades of pink and lavender and brilliant orange. I managed to get that star moment of the setting sun in a photo. It was warm, too, in the 60’s, and still. The skies were dark during the night with lots of stars and silence, no traffic noises. Sometimes for convenience we park in RV parks near the freeway, and I have become accustomed to the sounds, but last night was pristine. That is a word I might not have associated with Oklahoma in the past. Even though the trees have lost their leaves and the grass is brown, the skies are still clean and the colors have a sweet clarity.

After dinner last night Moana worked on her Christmas cards and I surfed the internet. The broadband card was slower than dialup, but I still managed to find a place for us to park tonight near Fort Smith. I also got caught up on many emails on my work webmail site. Nice to be able to clear that out before I get back in January. Nice also to get the email from Thor telling me that Chad plans to advertise the MLRA positions in Redmond and Salem in January and hoping that I would apply. It’s encouraging since Chad talked to me about this last September and said he might not hire anyone from the last advertisement so that he could advertise again. A good sign. I will apply, and hopefully I will not spend another tough year in California. Maybe I will really be done with it. I am so ready for that, so ready to be home, close to my kids again, close to Moana, back in Oregon. I’ll trust in the Universe as I always have, but I do hope that things go this way.

The winds are really strong now, and Moana is working really hard to keep us going forward. Big gusts throw us sideways into the rumble strips and the moho is doing some serious back and forth kinds of movements. Tornado country, of course we aren’t in tornado season, but geez, winds are the main thing here I guess, and blizzards. Glad we aren’t dealing with a blizzard!

Johnny is planning to drive down to Fort Smith tonight to meet us for dinner and a visit. He said it’s only a couple hour drive for them. I’m looking forward to seeing him.

Later
The day has been really windy, no let up at all as we continue east. There is no sign of a real storm, but there are clouds that look like a weather front is blowing by very high in the sky. We stopped in Oklahoma City this morning to view the Oklahoma City Memorial of the federal building bombing in 1995. 167 people. Funny, more people die in airplane crashes, but this touched the psyche of the American people so strongly, and the memorial is rather lovely, and very dramatic. Got some good photos. My Picasa web photo albums are going to be all filled up before I get through with this trip for sure.

We stopped for lunch and gasoline just outside of Oklahoma City and now have just a couple of hours to go before we get to the Arkansas line. The landscape is rolling plains, with a lot of brown hardwoods that have no leaves. There are lots of green patches of grass that seem to be greening up from the fall rains, but the fields are all brown. Here and there are some winter wheat fields that stand out brilliant emerald. I said to Mo that I wouldn’t mind having no leaves on the trees since we don’t have to deal with the kinds of bugs and mosquitoes that would be in this country during the summer, but even in this brown state, I can imagine how green the summers must be.

Crossing Texas

Tuesday afternoon December 4, 2007

Crossing the panhandle of Texas this afternoon. What do you say about the Texas panhandle anyway. It’s different from New Mexico? Once again at the state line everything changed. Bluffs and canyons of eastern NM changed to Texas. Brown earth blue sky. Windmills. Olds ones with groups of cows around them and then new ones leading for miles into Amarillo.

www.amarillo.com

It’s a quiet day on the road actually, and really relaxing. It’s 71 degrees and clear here right now at 3 in the afternoon. Jeremy finally figured out how to sleep on the dash with a view, and we turned on the radio to listen to, ‘imagine that’ country music. The big difference here is that there is song after song of male singers and not one female voice to be heard. So far the most exciting thing we have seen along the road is the “biggest cross in the western hemisphere”. Who knows why. I guess it’s Texas.

We got on the road at 8 this morning after a nice stay in Albuquerque. Albuquerque actually looks as though it might be an interesting place to live for a short time, or to visit for a week or two at least. Might be fun to come during the balloon festival in October, but probably hard to get a place to stay. The thing we noticed and appreciated most was the lack of traffic. New highways that seem to be really well engineered, at least in town.

That has been the theme all day. No traffic. Wide roads. Good pavement. Not a bad theme for a day of travel devoted to getting from A to B, or A to O as it may be, Albuquerque to Foss, Oklahoma. No plans for this day, just the open road and the miles, and no way to explain to anyone at all how good this can feel. Open roads with light traffic are reminding me why I like to travel in the MoHo, or to drive anywhere for that matter. Way too many months driving up and down in I-5 fighting wall to wall cars and trucks and people. Eastern NM and the Texas Panhandle are blessedly empty of crowds. Guess it’s easy to understand why, but it’s still makes for a great day.

Monday in New Mexico

day morning December 3 2007
We are on I-40 again, approaching the New Mexico border. I should have known that Mo and I couldn’t get through the desert without doing a side trip or two. At Holbrook, we took off on the old Route 66 to go to the Painted Desert. The most amazing thing we found unexpectedly was Jim Gray’s Petrified Wood Company.

http://www.petrifiedwoodco.com

It was amazing, with a huge lot filled with logs of every shape and size, and inside the shop aisles upon aisles of petrified wood, jewelry, huge tables made of stone and amethyst geodes, and even a pond and a waterfall. On the walls up high were all sorts of Route 66 memorabilia, photos, old license plates, coke bottles. The place was just too much fun. We bought some “mother road” refrigerator magnets, a book about the Petrified Wood national park, and an ironwood road runner for Mo’s collection.

Continuing into the park, we ambled along the quiet roads completely enjoying the silence, the distant views, and all the shapes and colors off the old betonite clay deposits that were a major factor in the process of petrification. Since silica is the main mineral that transforms the wood to stone, a good source of silica is needed in the waters that buy the wood to preserve it. Ahaha, volcanic ash! Huge piles of ash from all the volcanic activity in Triassic times 225 M years ago. The piles of ash, full of silica, helped create the stone. Then the ash weathers to heavy clay after millions of years, gets colored by iron and manganese and creates tourist opportunities for people like me and Mo.

It really was a great little park, though, with nice trails and beautiful views. Another nice part was that they allowed dogs on the trails which doesn’t often happen in a national park, so of course Abby got her morning walk.

http://www.americansouthwest.net/arizona/petrified_forest/national_park.html

It was a nice side trip and now we are back headed east. Last night was really comfortable after we settled in, even though it got down to 20 degrees. We were warm and cozy with the little electric heater that we use so we can save on propane. It’s also much quieter than the big heater.

We just crossed into New Mexico, and there is pink rock and golden mesas topped with dark green juniper. I am always amazed at how the landscape changes so much at state boundaries. This one is a great example. We moved from the huge flat plains of Arizona where you can see for 120 miles to the mesas and arroyos of New Mexico in just a couple of miles. Georgia O’Keefe country, pink and gold and juniper green.

Evening in Albuquerque. We settled in to our campground in plenty of time for daylight setup which was really great after our experience last night! Funny thing that the rv campground is right next to a Camping World which any RV’r knows is like REI for hikers. Super fun. So we shopped there a bit and I found the perfect chili pepper lights for the awning. I love the stupid little light thing, and Mo said, “no flamingos, but I suppose I could tolerate chili peppers”. So I have been hunting chili peppers. Of course, I probably won’t put them up until we are going to be somewhere longer than a single night, but you wait, pictures will be forthcoming.

We unhooked the baby car and headed downtown to the “Old Town” of Albuquerque, settled in 1705, just a young baby city compared to 400 year old Santa Fe, but still old by US western standards. It had a real pasea and town square, which Moana really loved. That was her favorite part of traveling in mexico and we enjoyed this one as well. Not as big as the square in Santa Fe, but still fun, although pretty quiet since it was a Monday night. There are Christmas lights going up and the luminaries everywhere which is so enchanting in New Mexico nighttime.

The restaurant was in an historic home. http://www.churchstreetcafe.com/

Lots of history here and really great service and good food. The waiter brought me exactly what I wanted, in pieces ala carte instead of those groups of things that are always way too big. I had some kind of Spanish chili relleno that was different, and sopapillas with green chili soup. Perfect. Oh yes, the marguerita was perfect as well.

travelin' Saturday and Sunday

Saturday morning December 1, 2007
We are off and running on the big trip, the one we have waited for all year. This morning we left town at 6:45 even earlier than we had planned. This trip will be our maiden voyage with the cats along and it feels as though it will be just fine. Of course there has been a bit of adjustments.

Teddy did his meowing thing for a couple of hours but now it’s 930 in the morning and he seems to have finally settled down. Jeremy is here asleep in Moana’s lap feeling safe and cozy. Right away when I let him out of his cage he found Abby’s bed and decided that it felt like home. Teddy goes back into his cage for safety, probably because he likes being in those closed spaces.


It’s also taken a bit to get used to using the laptop and the wireless card. The computer kept turning off and I already broke the antenna off the card. For a bit of time, though, I had 5 bars and managed to get gas prices. We did really well, since we paid 3.19 and every thing else around there was more.

We had a glass of milk before we left and split a yogurt a bit ago, but hopefully won’t be eating all those big breakfasts that we do sometimes when we are traveling. It’s sunny and not too cold here on 99, smoggy and hazy as usual for the central valley. The highway is pretty rough in some places but here between Fresno and Bakersfield it has smoothed out some.
I can’t believe that after all these years of fantasizing about the motorhome and a tracker that I am living it right now. A whole month on the road. So many fun things ahead of us, and who knows what kind of adventures are waiting. We will be staying with Mo’s friends in Tehachapi tonight and then tomorrow will be a rather long day crossing the deserts on the way to Flagstaff. For the moment it’s still California, and still doesn’t really feel like a real trip. The leaves are off the orchards, or turning dull brown, sometimes you can smell grapes, other time fertilizers and waste plants. Trash along the highway. I am wondering just how much that will change as we cross the country. 99 certainly isn’t the most picturesque of roads, even though it has such a long history in my life, and Mo’s life as well. We have both traveled this road for close to 50 years or more. Some things change, others never do. For instance, there are only a couple of ways to get from one end of California to the other. Old refrigerators in a huge junkyard, lots of manufactured home and rv dealers, stupid people on cell phones who don’t know how to onramp the freeways. Good thing Mo is such a good driver. Cats sleeping sun in the windows, clouds over the misty sierras in the east. Onward.

Sunday morning December 2 2007
We are traveling east on I-40 right now after spending last night at Mo’s friend’s home in Bear Springs valley near Tehachapi. It’s a little after 11 right now and finally the air is getting clearer as we get farther east in the desert. Mo is driving but soon it will be my turn. I knitted some, fiddled with the broadband card on the computer, called John and Deanna and things feel really nice and simple at the moment.

It was really cold last night and we had the heater going all night, and then at 330 or so I got up to turn on the propane heater as well. It was about 47 degrees in the MoHo by then and my nose was cold even though it was cozy under the covers.

The cats have traveled just fine but then last night they were a little restless as well, probably because I was. We had a really nice visit with Chris and Peggy and Mo’s other student Jane came up to visit from Victorville as well. Jane and Chrissy were students of Mo’s when she was a new young teacher in China Lake in 1962. It was fun reminiscing about those days and hearing about Mo back then as a young teacher. Even then she was “firm, fair, and consistent”. That was what they like about her, and they emulated her teaching style as they each became teachers in California. They both also retired with more than 30 years of teaching.

Yesterday we stopped at a big ”family” farm on HWY 58 on the way to their house and bought some pomelos, like grapefruits except they were as big as heads. We laughed a lot about them and left them for Chris and Peg.

Jane is a cat lady so we got lots of good information about my cats and what to do about Jeremy losing weight. I guess she has more than 13 cats but refused to tell any of us the actual number.

Peggy made a great dinner for us with chicken and scalloped potatoes and also insisted on sending us off this morning with bacon and apple pie, and leftover chicken and potatoes for the road. They are planning to move to the Bear Valley house when Peg retires next spring but for now it is a weekend place. The horse barn was to die for though, since they are both horse people and Chris still rides with the sheriff posse and helps with horse rescues during the fires. I kept thinking of my sister Sally and how much she would have loved that Barnmaster barn. Heck, back in the days when I had horses I would have loved it!

It must have rained here recently because there are flowers blooming all over the desert. Some reallhy pretty kind of aster that has gray foliage. At first I thought it was rabbitbrush, but it’s not the right flower. And a beautiful bunch of lavender asters was blooming out among the creosote bushes. The skyline has that desert sharpness except to the south there is smog and smoke creeping up from LA I guess, hard to say where it is from.

It’s later on Sunday evening and Mo is showering after we finally settled in for the night at Meteor Crater. We drove a long way today, 450 miles or so, and the road were good and the traffic was light, but we were still worn out when we landed. It seemed a lot later than it was because it was dark here completely at 5pm. Must be on the eastern edge of the time zone even if it is pretty far south in Arizona.

We got to Flagstaff and needed gas so got off the freeway to try to find some kind of gas station. Finally found one, but the funny thing is that here in the desert they must actually be implementing the dark night restrictions on night lighting. I have heard of this a lot in the past and thought it was a great idea. I love the dark. But trying to find your way around in a darkened unknown city is an interesting experience. Everything looks as though it is closed. Finally managed to get gas and get the next 30 miles down the road to our reserved campground, which was very nearly closed, and yet still more than very very dark. We drove around in circles trying to find the space, and then turning on the light so we could see the campground light, but then of course we couldn’t see anything at all. It was funny. I was swearing a lot at all those dark night rules!

http://www.hcn.org/servlets/hcn.Article?article_id=10890

Now, after dinner and a glass of wine it all seems entertaining, but an hour ago not so much. Music playing on the stereo, cats napping in the front window after dinner, and praise be, my wireless att card is working. Some things make life all ok! LOLOL

Tomorrow another day and another adventure. Fewer miles to travel thank goodness, less than 300 to Albuquerque. We planned to move fairly quickly through the west because this trip is about the southeast, but going through Arizona and watching that sky reminds me of why I love it out west. A slower trip in another season and we will take our time through here.

Marcus VS Hp deskjet

ahh well, so much for conversation. I couldn't resist this one.

Thanksgiving in Portland

Family. Food. Phone calls. That last minute putting together of everything to go on the table. Some things are always the same even as life continues to evolve. I drove from Sonora to Portland with a nice in between stop in Klamath that made the 700 miles a bit more bearable, even enjoyable. I had perfect weather with just a bit of Oregon fog, managed to miss all the really bad traffic on I-5 near Redding, and ambled up through the green Oregon valleys to Deborah’s house on the west side of Portland.

Melody and Kevin were there with Hillary and Elric. Deb and Raul were amazing in all that they did cooking and decorating and hosting the event. It was a good time. A perfect turkey, everyone saying what they are most thankful for this year around the table, and eating till all we could do afterward was sit around on sofas. No dramas, no traumas, just good traditional family stuff.

Hillary is growing up so fast. 14 years old and 100 percent her own person, dealing with all the parts of being 14. I have no idea what kind of adult she will be, but I can imagine it will be unique and totally her own. Hearing about the cliques in high school was fun. Just like it has always been, only more of them with fascinating names, like Emo’s who I guess like to cut themselves because of their angst in life. That’s a new one! Jocks and Preps never change, and not surprisingly, Hillary is an “Outsider” which just by the fact that she is happily part of a fairly large group means she isn’t an outsider at all. Moments with the grandkids.

I got lots of hugs from both of them. Deb’s partner’s kids were with us as well, Austin and Ashley, adding to the family mix, and making the table nice and long. Keeping our own circle is nice and yet I noticed the expansion that comes from adding more people opening up. Reminds me again of how it used to be in my women’s group. I would fight to the death adding new members and then when we eventually did, those people became my closest friends and added so much to the mix.

Shopping with Melody for the grandkids on Friday morning. Girl time with Melody and Deb after the men went to work and back to Portland. Kevin’s brother Dan was also part of the mix, and as quiet and non happy as he can be, he even smiled a lot and had a good time. Evening with Deb and Raul laughing a lot and playing a dice and chip game called Swipe. Easy and fun and lots of laughing. Deb’s home is always comfortable, and now it’s even more so with the living room all extended and the dining room by the kitchen. Room for everyone to be together doing whatever.

It’s cold in Portland today, but clear. Yesterday as we were driving to the store, Mt Hood loomed up huge and white in the east above the city. I so love the northwest. The Sierra’s are beautiful but nothing matches the majesty and magnificence of those volcanos. Maybe because they are young and full of energy and probably dangerous. So beautiful and so dangerous.

Today I will return down the Willamette Valley through green and tan fields with mountains on both sides of me, over the Cascades and down to the Klamath. Spend a night in the stars and big trees at Mo’s and then back down into the murky world that waits for me in California. I always feel as though I am dropping into something thick when I go my home in California. And rising when I leave to return to Oregon. Every time. I feel the lifting of something heavy on me, open the window of the truck and feel the air, and open my eyes to see space and distance and volcanos and I feel myself lifting as well.

Maryruth was angry with me for saying how unhappy I am in California. She said it was her home and wasn’t right for me to complain about it to her. A surprise for me actually because usually we don’t have those kinds of nono’s in our conversations. But Maryruth doesn’t read blogs, so I am safe here. Safe to remember that California is not my home, that my body and my soul don’t resonate there, that I am most at home in Oregon, my home.

Peace on the beach

I love it when the world actually does something nice. Mo and I were in Santa Cruz walking the beach last weekend and looked down to find this lovely almost crop circle looking design in the sand. It was very nearly perfect, and so delightful that some group of people got together to actually make this thing. I am not sure you can tell how big it is in the photo, but the diameter is at least 60 feet or so and it's really complex. It was a great uplifting moment to come across this lovely thing that evening.

We drove the 3 hours to the coast so I could get a chance to unwind from all the review and sampling frenzy that has dominated my life for so long now. Beaches, redwood forests, long walks on the water and long hikes in the woods. Rain on the roof of the motorhome. Abby at the dog park.

This is the other thing about Santa Cruz that was so much fun. As fearful as I am of dogs in big groups, I loved this place and watchings at least a couple of hundred dogs laughing and playing on the beach. After 4pm they open up the beach to dogs off leash and is was totally wonderful.





In fact, I went to google earth, my new addiction, and when you zoom in to the Sant Cruz beach there a photos there of the lighthouse and of the dog park. Lots of fun to cruise around on Google Earth. Worth downloading rather than just settling for the online version of Google maps. Google is somewhat of a wonder I think. Privacy is a distant memory anyway I am afraid, so let the googles have it. At least they make our losses seem like we are having fun.

Just A Little More Cream

Digging

Lots of new toys here, and this is first attempt at blogging a video, uploading something to You Tube and playing with all the new stuff on my laptop

Good things about Sonora

So there are some good things about living in the Mother Lode in the summer. First of all, this summer hasn't been nearly as unbearable as last summer. We hover around 100 on the hottest days, and I haven't seen those 110 plus days all year this time. Also, the nights have been cool enough to open my window and not have the air conditioning going all night. That is a very good thing!! And then there is the bounty. I should have taken my camera to the Farmers market this morning, but instead had to settle for piling goodies up on my porch bench to remind myself to be grateful. I went to the market early this morning, meeting Stacy and Sean, and wandered around listening to the fiddle music, watching the jugglers, and talking with the vendors. I bought waay too much stuff, including some rather amazing jams that aren't in this photo that I plan to take to my family gathering this week. The tomatoes are heirloom varieties, my favorite of which is the Brandywine, but there are also some Cherokees in here that are pretty amazing as well. And peaches that have juice running down your arm when you try to eat them, and perfect little yellow fleshed tomatoes, and berries that would be insulted by sugar. Ahh warm summer bounty. I must admit that it's hard to find this kind of luscious ripeness and flavor in things grown in our cold inland valleys of Oregon. Probably over on the west side, but still hard to find these kinds of peaches anywhere, even in Wenatchee. I am hooked on the Brandywines now for sure, and bought 20 bucks worth, hoping they will hold for at least part of the week until I get to klamath to share them with everyone.

Trying to remember to be grateful, and since I do talk a lot about the icky stuff, thought I would put in something good for a change about living in the Mother Lode

morning walk thoughts

So walking for an hour stimulates thoughtfulness for me. It's still dawn when I start, and the sun isn't up yet. I pass two old men who are discussing their chemo and levels of something or other related to their prostrate cancer, but everyone else is still sleeping. I like this time of day a lot. In fact, I find if the sun is up too much I really don't want to walk, I don't like running into people and having to smile and be nice and have conversations. I just want to walk in silence and think.

So I thought about this> "what would I be doing in my life if Mo wasn't in it. what decisions would I make if Mo wasn't there at all. if she left the planet, or for some unfathomable reason decided that she didn't want to be in this friendship with me. How would I be living right now, how would I choose."

I thought about this a lot and realized that the most important thing for me to follow all the time when making my decisions is to look very carefully at what I would choose if Mo weren't there. It's an eye opener, believe me. Not just a peripheral "what would I do" but an in depth examination of stepping back and thinking about my life and me in it as just me.

right now I would be doing exactly what I am doing! aha moment. I would still be thinking about choosing that Jan 3 2009 date as the first option. I would still be living in this house. Mo has it committed to my occupancy until I choose to leave, so I can live here without selling it until I am ready to go. Still just paying the rent for the space and utilities. So my living costs are less because Mo bought this place, but I would have it to live in either way.

And the biggest aha was that, yes, I would still sell my house, if Mo weren't in my life and if I were totally on my own, I would still sell it. I would still not want to be stuck paying capital gains on it. If I were not considering sharing a home with Mo, I would want to live closer to my kids, probably wouldn't choose to live in Klamath, as much as I love it, even if I COULD afford the mortgage after retirement, because no one would be there. I would still sell my house and maybe have to work a bit longer to figure out what came next, maybe not retire quite as early, but I would still sell my house and and would still leave california and would still choose to retire somewhere in Oregon and would still have to get creative as to how I would live, where I would live.

I talked to Mo when I got back, a good conversation, and talked about how I needed to be sure that I didn't become dependent on her being there. She brought up something that I had forgotten, however. She asked me, "when in your life have you ever been dependent on someone else? Why would you change now? have you ever been able to depend on anyone to take care of you? haven't you always been the one who had to do it? who had make the choices and make the payments and make sure you and your family had a place to live?"

Hmmm. and I said, never, but I have always wanted it somehow. even in my marriage to Lance, I was the caretaker, the one who made the income and made sure we had a home. He helped, we worked together, but he never took care of me. Except of course now and then with things like warm socks in the winter and a hot mug of something when I was sick. he cared in that way, but stability? that was always me providing it. Mo remembered that part of me that I sometimes forget.

Aha thinking. Guess it's why I love to walk

Lessons

I have been having conversations with a friend lately about life lessons, and how we learn them, and remembering an affirmation that I created long ago, "I choose to learn my lessons gently". So many times we think the only way to learn anything is with pain and incredible adversity. Been there, done that. I am hoping that for the rest of my life, the lessons come in small doses, gently. I don't want to stop growing, but I have had enough of adversity on a big scale.

Today my lessons are about letting go. My daughter has a great analogy that she uses often, "If I buy that bag, dress, car, whatever, I will be smart and pretty and happy and it will change my life". She just talked about that in her blog as she recounted a day off spent wandering around her town looking at Things. Unrelated to the lesson, or her thoughts, I am clearing out closets, practicing the letting go thing. I did it a bunch when I moved here to from Klamath, thinking I was doing a pretty good job of it. But now it's coming up again and I am cleaning closets and giving away stuff with a vengeance. Carloads to the thrift store. They have a big sign saying "absolutely no loads dropped off without approval" but I drive up in the Lexus and they smile and nod and take my boxes without a thought. But that's another lesson to ponder. My attachment to luxury.

Then again, maybe not, maybe it's all related somehow, my attachment to that "thing" luxury. Today I cleared out shoes and purses. I even have the Bare Trap velvet shoes I bought in 1978. So hot. and they are still hot. And my feet have aged and somehow they don't fit well. ah well, and no, Melody, they didn't end up in the box yet. But the box is full. There are several hundred dollars worth of really good shoes, and great leather bags in that box, shoes and bags that I wanted really badly to make my life better, to feel the soft leather and have the label there and to somehow feel like I was OK. with a purse, for pete's sake? So hundreds of dollars of "stuff" that I probably charged on some credit card to feel good about myself are in that box, the box I am carting off to the thrift shop today.

Hopefully, the lesson learned, is that I really don't need it. I really don't. And part of my life lessons have to do with managing my life and my finances. Somehow looking at the valueless dollar value represented by the contents in this box hit me abruptly in the gut.

cat families

I think it takes more than one cat around to really understand the complexity of cat family interactions. Eeven with two, I might not have been really as much aware of this inside stuff as I am after living for a time with a whole houseful of cats a few years ago with Bel. So I came home with a new cat scratcher and Jeremy immediately latched onto it, scratched for a few minutes and then plopped himself down to sleep. In the other room, I heard Teddy complaining loudly, and went in to find this scenario. A grumpy Teddy and a very self satisfied Jeremy on the new scratcher. Gee. think maybe I should have bought two?

So maybe not in my lifetime but it's coming

I was reading this article on AlterNet this morning and somehow it was a bit encouraging to me, that people like Gates and Buffett have a conscience. Read the rest of the article if you are so inclined. It's interesting

http://www.alternet.org/stories/57727/

But this is not just a world of riches gone mad that the rest of America can ignore. The growth of such a large super-rich class, coupled with a deepening poverty in many communities, is starting to tear at the fabric of society. Even some of the most wealthy -- like Gates and Buffett -- have spoken openly of the needs to address the massive "inequality gap" that they have come to exemplify. In effect, some of the very richest Americans are calling for themselves to be taxed. In a speech last month Buffett -- the third richest man in the world -- pointed out that his tax rate was 17.7 per cent of his income while his secretary was taxed at 30 per cent. "Many of the new super-rich are looking long term at the world and they see a collapsing US education system and health-care system and the disappearance of the middle class and they realize: this is bad for everybody," said Frank.

Working in July

Breakfast in the Mother Lode

this morning the light has changed. yeah, I know, it's still July, and it's still hot, but the light has changed. And the blackberries are ripe along Indian Creek. Breakfast

My Day

Ahh yes, it's a good life when it isn't raining, when the truck is only a few hundred yards away, and the slopes are only 60 percent. It's actually a good life when there are stones this big in the soil profile because when I finally get a stone out, I can be at least 10 inches deeper in the pit! Yes, it's a good life!!

This is a really great soil, by the way, grows big Douglas Fir and has volcanic ash in the upper part. I thought I had to leave all my Andisols behind in the northwest, and lo and behold they are appearing here in the Sierras. Leftovers from the volcanic activity near the top of Sonora Pass, I assume. the tape is in cm and meters by the way, and I go to a meter and a half or 2 meters if the bedrock doesn't stop me as it did in this pit.

Conversations with my online Womens Group

This conversation has been just so good for me personally, and I hope for everyone, to see that these choices and conflicts are really themes that cross over economic boundaries somehow. No matter how much we have or don't have, we are all still trying to figure out how to do it as we age. And the choices we make now have such a great bearing on how we will be as those little old ladies that we watch and wonder. At least I do. How did that person become so alone? How did that happen to this vibrant woman? I have really good mentors on this level and really good examples of how NOT to do it, so I am learning I hope.

Just recently my godmother Wilma let go of her condo, her car, and most of her possessions to move into an assisted living place. She practices yoga often, and has a wonderful outlook on life in general, and trust in a Higher Power. Her take on it all was that she was getting the opportunity to begin the "letting go" of the end of her life. She is 83 now, and her memory is going. She fell last year and broke her hip pulling the cork out of a bottle of good white wine. I went to visit her and she lost Costco, and we drove around her town for a very long time trying to find our way back to her house. I was so relieved when she moved out of her condo and went to the assisted living place. But she is my mentor when it comes to trusting in the ultimate order of the Universe and the power of the Higher Power.


I know that somehow, we will all have a roof over our head. There are a lot of homeless people out there, but I don't think any one of us will go there, even if we are renting a condo or an apartment somewhere. Trust and safety. Just what kind of space do I really need, or do any of us need to feel safe. I know I need to know that I can live somewhere where no one can tell me I can't keep my cats. Big issue with renting, and yet I know people with animals who rent. You figure it out, I guess. My sister rents, and her landlord won't let her paint or put anything on the walls, so she has these velcro thingys and hangs all her colorful quilts on the wall and the place looks like her home did back in the days when she was married and had a home of her own. So that goes back to the stuff part. I will keep just enough stuff to keep my space feeling like my space, and I too have learned here in this last move to California, that I don't need as much. I am clearing out and paring down and letting some things go, and some not. I have a porcelain chicken for pete's sake. I love that chicken. stupid, but somehow it pleases me to walk out into the kitchen in the morning and see the colors on that chicken. Reminds me of the days when I had real chickens, the sound of there gentle clucking and the smell of straw sweet and clean. I will take the chicken to Mo's.

I went through a woman's home after her death, Barb, my grandmother, and things were in such disarray that I vowed to never let my children have to do the same. Letting go of "stuff". Still working on the photos and files and mementos of our lives, and making those choices now. Need vs want. Still not at the point where I could let someone do that for me, though... Not sure about that one at all! I love the piano story. I let my first piano go to pay for my college tuition and I do play the piano. I now have a digital piano, easy to move, and yet I can still play. Did I ever tell anyone here that I played classical piano for the symphony in southern california as a teenager? Couldn't do that now, of course, but I can still play when I am moved to do so. Another retirement dream, but who will I play for?

And like you, Barb, even the move to Mo's place in Rocky Point probably won't be the last one. Mo thought she would build that house and keep it for 10 or 15 years and then sell the property and move into some kind of condo, more easy to care for. If we live long enough, we will probably leave that place eventually. It has lots of grass to mow and wood heat and is a big property. And as you said, I know Mo well enough and trust her to do something reasonable regarding how long I could stay there if she were to pass on first. I wouldn't want to live there anyway if she were gone. I have 4 kids, and if I were alone it would be important to be where some of them are at least. So even though I am trying to plan and prepare, there are still unknowns. Mo planned and prepared for her life so carefully, and then Carol died after they were together 25 years, screwed up the plan considerably, and yet Mo still followed her plan. Stuff happens.

So yeah, the final move may or may not appear, and the plan always has to make room for adjustments and changes, especially as you said earlier about the new realities in economics. Right now owning property or a home is a bit scary, and the investment isn't always going to go up. No guarantees on anything at all. So we can just keep on looking forward, making plans, and knowing those plans are only possibilities and somehow be ready to deal with upsets and shifts, and still have dreams and make more plans. Maybe it's about being attached to the plans and dreams that is the problem. Learning how to have them and yet how to let them go and not be attached when things shift. Barb, you are learning that in such a huge way right now. The shift in plans. So thoughtful when you said you did it too early. A good understanding there, it just wasn't time yet for you.

Charlie and Linda, I love watching you two build your life together, and seeing the love come through as you deal with the adjustments of kids and family and stuff and style. Bottom line is the love and the willingness to adjust.

And Virginia, you and Helen as well, shifting, changing, making adjustments over and over as you deal with place and stuff and choices. I am just trying here to think about the bigger picture, and seeing that economic realities are the surface of things, and there are underlying lessons for all of us that resonate and sound familiar. Things we are supposed to learn about being in this human body doing this human thing. Things I have seen people evolve and learn gracefully, and things other people I have watch kicking and screaming to the end and refusing to learn and grow at all. I guess some of us do and some of us don't. I hope I do. What an incredible blessing to have a place to talk and think about something other than the pragmatic everyday thoughts that seem to take over. Thanks to you beautiful batch of women that I have known for 7 years now!!!! WOW.

Hugs
Malone

Saturday morning

Saturday morning, June 9, 2007

Sun shining in the windows and I am still depressed. Not severely, not sad, just feeling a bit low and unfocused and the tears are close to the surface. Closer than I realized until I started writing. Alone. Although alone isn’t really the problem, because I noticed that I was feeling this way a bit last Saturday as well, even though Mo was here. Just life. Just doing life, the everyday stuff, but doing it alone. Sometimes that is good. Sometimes it isn’t.

I feel out of touch with kids and family. They are all so far away. I went through this last year around this time. I know that I have fun things to look forward to, that I just got to spend some good time with my son, which doesn’t happen very often at all. That soon I will have a short week with my entire family. Good times. Family times. But I want to be right there. I want to go over to Deb’s house and have coffee, or to Melody’s house and sit with her while she deals with the kids and all her stuff. I got a taste of it at Deanna’s. It was truly wonderful being there, having time again with family.

I remember so well how my grandmother complained about being lonely. I am not anything like her, I have work and am so busy, but still I catch that missing family thing that she went through. It’s almost as though the missing family is more of a concept, missing something that no longer exists. Family in the same town, Sunday dinners at Grandma’s house, coffee in the morning on the porch. What porch? I have a porch here that I rarely sit on because I am too busy working. Even if we all lived in the same town, Sunday dinners wouldn’t happen that often because we are all too busy.

So today I am not busy. I have yard things, house things, laundry things waiting, but nothing overbearing. My body is tired and achey from all the hiking and digging that I did this week. Beautiful week actually, cool weather, big puffy clouds in the blue skies. Working in the higher country far north from here, out of the oaks and into the firs and pines. Lovely. Lonely and quiet in the best way possible.

Pensive. Is it just my nature to be pensive? How tiresome is that for the people around me trying to understand. If it’s tiresome for me, I am sure it is tiresome for others to listen to. Mo says, sometimes you just have to go through the motions of everyday living, without anything going on, just do the chores, take care of business, be in life without any big input from anything else. Just everyday life. So today I am doing everyday life.

Loving my "inheritance"

Here is the URL for an article telling about a bit of the history of the Metlox California Poppy Trail "California Ivy".

http://www.deseretnews.com/dn/view/0,1249,660203519,00.html

I found a way to love my dishes, the ones I grew up with in California. Dorothy gave them to me, along with the silver before she died. These dishes and silver and crystal are part of the really good memories I have of Dorothy. She loved to entertain and set a beautiful table. We were on the very low side of middle class for that era, probably would be considered poor in this day and age, but we had sterling and crystal and knew how to have a truly fine dinner. Thanksgiving wasn't the only time. The dishes are special, but I couldn't figure out how to make them really look wonderful on the table, but today I did it. Bamboo chargers that match the painted vines on the plates, and a tropical tablecloth. So much fun. Now I have to have a dinner for someone!

random

Today I am doing what we call "lab sampling". It means lots of walking and digging and carrying lots of very heavy bags of soil, labeling them, dipping clods of soil in liquid saran, hanging them on clothes lines that have been strung between whatever tree or bush is available and usually a spade jammed into the ground. It means lots of other things as well, and it's actually pretty satisfying work. real.

This afternoon, the review team leader from Davis and I went to a sample location without the rest of the crew to sample a soil in a politically sensitive site. Beautiful day actually, breezy, not too hot, brilliant skies, grass still green, shade of an oak tree to work in. Many miles from any kind of civilization. Not bad at all.

The two Sue's we call ourselves, Valley Sue and I am Sierra Sue. So Valley Sue is writing something down on a label and I am digging away at the pit when, silently, the Easter bunny drops in. No, not a rabbit, not a real bunny. An Easter Bunny Balloon. It just glides in from nowhere and gently lands on the knoll about 10 feet from where we are working. And looks at us. The bunny is grinning and his ears are upside down because he seems to have lost some of his oomph. So he laughs at us. For about five minutes he laughs at us, resting on his little knoll. We look at each other and laugh and say, "Gee, maybe we should take him home". And just as quietly and gently the bunny leaves, lifted into the air by a gust of a breeze, and off he goes.

Now that's just plain random. and weird. and very very funny. We laughed the rest of the day. We never did find the bunny, either.

too busy to even write to myself!

So I am working on a major lab sampling event coming up here in the mother lode with all those bigshot smarties coming from UCDavis to check out my paralithics. I have a really difficult employee who is totally dedicated and makes me want to kill him because he is seriously and completely nuts, and isn't getting his work done at all. I have a totally smart and wonderful employee who is like a sponge and needs my continuous teaching, I have two great guys detailed in from out of my area who are smart and really good soil scientists but need to understand the Mother Lode in order to map a lot of it in a very short time and in the midst of this I am supposed to be finalizing all that stuff I wrote last year for my Basic Soil Survey teaching assignment, coming up way too quickly in May, only again, one more time, in some kind of new format devised by Marc Crouch the Grouch who is the head of training. The man is on a mission. We have to do teacher plans, and student plans, and convert them all to jpegs and then back to ppts, and then, of course, we aren't supposed to use too many ppt's because that isn't really teaching. and for pete's sake, I'm just trying to get a soil survey done for my area and get some lab data to document it! Nuts! I am going slowly or quickly maybe crazy!!! There's my rant for the day. Happy Easter everyone. I'm running off to Oroville to help Maryruth hide eggs for her 13, yes 13 grandchildren. geez. Then next week I am off to meet my own great granddaughter in Wenatchee for the first time finally. Then killer sampling week, and then off to Lincoln to teach the class, traveling there in the MOHO with MO gee, maybe I can call her MIMOtheHO. oops, of course I didn't say that, and taking Shera along in the gourd where she is currently resting. Will finally after more than a year spread her ashes in the canyons on the way home from Nebraska. Have I said all this before somewhere? This is how my life feels at the moment. All one big paragraph with no breaks and no real sentences.

Too funny!

You Were a Coyote

Brutally honest, you encourage people to show their true selves. You laugh at life - none of it can be taken too seriously.

What Animal Were You In a Past Life?

Motherlode Snowstorm

I guess snow happens so rarely here that the infrastructure isn't ready to handle it. This lovely 2 inch very wet snow brought down trees and lef 18,000 people or so, including me, without power for a day. It was beautiful, though, especially since the streets were wet instead of icy and it melted in a day. Not the winter snows I am used to, but enough to be delightful.

Snowstorm

Morning Thoughts

“It Can Happen Here” by Joe Conason

The most salient dissent to be heard in recent years, and especially since Bush's reelection in 2004, has been voiced not by the liberals and moderates who never trusted the Republican leadership, but by conservatives who once did.

Former Republican congressman Bob Barr of Georgia, who served as one of the managers of the impeachment of Bill Clinton in the House of Representatives, has joined the American Civil Liberties Union he once detested. In the measures taken by the Bush administration and approved by his former colleagues, Barr sees the potential for "a totalitarian type regime."

Raining in the Mother Lode

So it's raining in Jamestown, has been for a few days now. That's a good thing. When I moved here I didn't know that the little creek that passed my park would be perennial. It ran all summer and through the dry fall and winter, even without any rain for months. Woods Creek. It was not far from here that someone found a 10 pound gold nugget back in the early 90's.

Quiet Sunday evening. Moana has returned to Oregon, and we are back to talking on the phone, laughing about our days, sharing stuff long distance. I am walking again, in between rain storms. It rained so hard last night that the water came in backwards through the roof between the car port and the house. It rained so hard that the water puddled up 4 inches deep along my walkways and pounded the pavement and bounced 6 inches high. Rain. A good thing. Not sure how long it will rain this year, but if its anything like last year, it will rain for a couple of months now.

The air smelled really fresh when I went for my walk and there were flowers blooming here and there, especially the manzanita in full bloom. Lots of frogs and lots of birds as well. Great smells and sounds. Life is good.

I spent the day, two days actually, working on family photos, trying to sort and organize and scan, getting a photo book put together for Deborah. It's amazing just how much has transpired over the years. Funny to see year that have hundreds of phots, in the mid 80's when the boys were coming in, when we had a good camera. Then back to 1967 when my only photos are a very few tiny little torn strips from the old black and white photo machines.

The Grammy's are in the background. The Dixie Chicks, not ready to make nice. I love their new album. Yes! Guess I'll go watch them.

So I did Melody's Bible Test

And for some reason the HTML wouldn't publish here. But I got 98 percent. Yeah. Without looking any of it up either. So reading the bible does NOT a christian make. Although I hate it when people think that to be a "Christian" means you believe in God and are moral. Christian means a lot of things in a lot of people's minds. Folks not educated in bible thumping evangelical christian theology think it means something as simple as that. My childhood taught me that probably Catholics (where are definitely Christian) weren't "real" christians, and Mormons were definitely not Christian, and on and on ad nauseum.

So maybe the only thing that I agree with is that Buddhists are definitely not Christian, although when I tell Mo I am probably more Buddhist than anything, she says, of course you are not, you are a "christian". ah well. so semantics follow all of us around on this planet, christians, lesbians, whatever.