PNewL PNewS 25.4

PNewL PNewS
Volume 25 Issue 4        “All the pnews that phits.”     (just under the wire) December 2017

We All Bring Something Different to the Party

     It was a few days before Christmas and lo and behold: I turned on the faucet and nothing. Perfect timing—I had things to do and places to go and people to see. This was not the time for the well to fail or the pump to break. (Expletives deleted.) I panicked…and then I paused and went to make coffee and as we do because we are creatures of habit, I turned on the water. It dribbled out. I paused again. What would Jeff or David do? I went down to the basement and changed the filter. It worked. Despite the fact that I changed the filter just a few weeks ago, it was mucky and spent. Disaster averted.

     Then the other night, I got an email from Betsy who is hell bent on learning to cook after a lifetime of avoiding it. I looked at her question and was puzzled. How do I explain to someone who doesn’t have much background at winging it when it comes to cooking that I don’t have to have a recipe for something but I am willing to make an educated guess? And how do I help her when it’s something I can do because of a fair amount of practice and experience? It was then that the light bulb went off.

     We all bring different things to the party. We all have something we are good at—either because we have natural aptitude or more often because we have worked hard and have experience so we know stuff. Some of us can go to the screws and bolts and nail aisle at the hardware store and just know which ones are needed rather than wandering aimlessly and having to ask someone. And others of us know things like sometimes a little bit of sugar or even some cocoa in a savory dish boosts the flavor. It’s why some folks don’t have to panic when something I deem worthy of panic occurs. Lucky them. But then there are times when it’s lucky me, because there are those times too.

Things I am Learning

& Miscellaneous Observations

• My Christmas guests this year include a 12-year old black lab named Madge and a labradoodle puppy named Bernie Sanderdoodle, both dogs of friends away for the holiday. Well, frankly they are the only guests. Roger is skeptical. (After: It actually worked out well despite feeling a little much at times. And as I know, it’s just not right to shove them all in a closet and leave despite all inclinations to do just that. But other than that it was fine. The weather accommodated—it was mild when it wasn’t cold and raining so we got to be outside a fair amount. Puppies do bring their own terror and magic to life. It still surprises me when a puppy takes a walk or plays in the backyard and then comes in and takes a dump. It just does. And they are entertaining in their interest in the world. Bernie was fascinated by the wind, and the goats next door, and any unfamiliar noise, including especially whistling and audible passing of gas—not ‘fessing to anything, I’m just saying…. Not to mention he was so charming in the way he bounced around. It makes me laugh. Meanwhile, Madge was willing to go with the flow and Roger warmed to the occasion…eventually.)

• So it’s the run up to the holidays and Amazon says my package will arrive on Sunday, which seemed excessively fast but what the heck. Then there was a notice that they apologized but the carrier was overloaded so it would come on Monday. Late Monday, they apologized that there was some sort of technical difficulty and it would be here on Tuesday. Imagine my surprise when it was.

• In November, I ordered a new pair of glasses. I’m still relatively new to glasses so when they say 10-14 day delivery, I am counting the days. It’s now been almost a month and I want to hurt someone. I offered to get my money back and they said, Oh look! They are here and they are PERFECT. We shall see.

• A friend asked me if there was anything she could do for me. I said, “Find me a nice funny man with a tool belt...and a good credit rating. (I started with a nice man, but then I thought, at this stage, I need a little more....)” Yes, I amuse myself.

• I went to the gym for the first time in a couple weeks. When I got inside, I had forgotten my ear buds and the pouch I keep my phone in (no pockets). And I spilled half my water bottle on my workout pants. I think I should get big points for actually sticking around.

• My horoscope the other day started with, “Everyone is flawed, and someone is really liking the way you’re flawed today.” I liked it. ‘Course Roger is the only someone I interacted with for any length of time that day and he’s always willing to cut me some slack.  

• The Weaverville librarians offer stickers to little kids when they check out books. I heard one of them say that their supply was pretty sad—and it was good that people were bringing in the pictures off their address labels. Some of them can be pretty good, I think. As I have been in a (probably short) blast of Fall Cleaning, I came home this evening and started snipping. Two hours later, I had cut pictures off of years of address labels including all of those from Florida from ten years ago. I also found plenty of other stickers as well as Thanksgiving stickers my mother used for name cards on our Thanksgiving table, dated 1989. I save stuff, and I am getting over that…or maybe I just wish I could.

• I am a big list maker. There are piles of them all over. Before I went away last month, I lost a pile of lists. I found them a month later in the closet where I put wrapping paper, decorations and games. (Yes, odd collection though it’s kind of an odd closet, but it was a particularly odd place to find the lists.) One reads:

Margins

Dad

Gloves

Hmm. Wonder what that was all about.

• I was talking to Jeff about aging. We are all at different stages in this process and I find it interesting to find out where people are. He said they are buying bigger trees. It’s time to get something to enjoy now rather than in 20 years. I like the way he thinks.

• Alexa died on Christmas morning. If you don't know who Alexa is, she lives in the cylinder on my counter and answers questions but mostly plays the radio for me. Christmas Day she stopped talking. The little white light in her base wasn't on. I had a good long "chat" online with a guy whose name I can't remember how to spell. After attempting a reset, we determined she was dead. After googling the issue, I learned that other people had had issues with the cord (power surges or something and we've been having all kinds of power coming and going this month) so I suggested to the nice man (wow, I wonder why I assumed he was a guy? That's shocking!) rather than accept the offer to buy a new Alexa at a discount, I try a new cord. Okay, s/he said, and because I am among the building blocks or foundation or something...this person was a bit verbose...that has helped to make Amazon the success that it is (Really? Time to change my spending habits, I know.), they will send me a free cord. (We'll see.)

     Okay, that was way too long but then the power went out for another couple hours and when it came back on: so did Alexa!!!! It's a miracle—a Christmas miracle! She has risen! (But why? If anyone has an idea, I really am curious.) And I have a new unused cord and so far, I've paid for it.

• The last time I got jabbed by a pyracantha, it took months to heal. I actually found online that some people have to have the wound cut into. I asked my doctor and he didn't think that was necessary. Eventually it stopped hurting. (By the way, I did attack the bush with a vengeance and sharp shears.) This time, I'm thinking the sucker's gotta go—the bush I mean. My finger hurts and is swollen and just spit out the tip of the thorn. 

• I tend to lose things in groups and they often come back the same way. I am now missing the lid of the pitcher that lives in my fridge, the cord to the Instant Pot (fortunately they sent me two), and the charger for my fitbit. Hello????

• I have been reading a lot about Ernest Shackleton, the Antarctic explorer, and the more I learn the more I marvel that they survived as long as they did—going to Antarctica with a crew most of whom couldn’t ski, and who also didn’t know how to run the dog sleds which were to be run by what included something like 65 dogs on board, all of which were untrained mongrels.

• At this time of year, I often like to say a little something about Things I am Thankful For, but I’m behind and while I try to be grateful regularly, it’s been a tough year to keep that in mind. I thought I would rely on one of my favorite people, Uncle Laymon, to say something smart and while not totally related, it is in the same feel good spirit. His daughter Lucy posted this on her Facebook page and I’ve saved it for a time like this to share:

  “For general well being, live carefully, keep mentally alert, keep physically active, be humane in all relations, be honest and follow the Golden Rule. I just believe these are things that will add enjoyment and satisfaction to our lives...and they will keep us out of trouble."

•And finally, this is also a time I like to post something like a New Year’s Resolution list (though looking back I have skipped it the last couple years.). All the usual suspects continue to apply: Eat better, get more exercise, laugh more, have more fun, dance more, and new to the list but most important: remember to bring all the layers. I am in countdown mode for what I believe will truly be The Big Trip. Sara and I will meet in Miami to travel together to Buenos Aires and Iguazu Falls (a Bucket List item since before I knew about Bucket Lists). Then Betsy arrives and we go to Ushuaia and worlds beyond: the Falkland Islands, South Georgia and Antarctica! (Because the season is short and the demand is high, we booked this a while back so the suspense has been a little more suspenseful than usual.) Last night I loaded a bunch of YouTube videos on the Roku and watched a couple hours of people on boats bobbing around in the Southern Ocean. AND SOON THAT IS GOING TO BE ME (and a bunch of other people). I confess I spent most of the time looking at what people were wearing as I am worried about having enough clothes and layers.

I hope 2018 is a good year for you, and a better one for our country and for the world. I wish you peace and good health, lots of laughs and adventures. Here’s to us all. xoxox

“Few are guilty but all are responsible.”

Rabbi Abraham Heschel

PNewL PNewS 25.3

PNewL PNewS 

Volume 25 Issue 3                        “All the pnews that phits.”                     September 2017
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One of those Days

     It started with Roger the dog having a seizure. He has them on occasion. I think they are seizures—it’s what I call them. He shakes his head, yawns, looks at me in hopes I could help him. It lasts for as long as it does. This was a long one.

     Meanwhile, outside it was grey but not raining. I had decided to leave Camp a day early because the weather report for the next day was not good and included wind which would rile up the bay and cause for an uncomfortable boat trip for Roger who is just getting used to boats.

     I spent the next four hours having breakfast, cleaning up, finishing the closing up process, and loading the boat. Roger slept on the dock, directly in my path. His seizures make him sleepy.

     The rain was supposed to start in the afternoon but the report was for calm seas in the early afternoon. (I had found a radio in the cookhouse a couple days earlier and found a weather report with a mechanical voice that became my go-to guy. I can get pretty attached to a weather report on a semi-remote island.) Reality seemed to be sticking closely to the prediction. I finished my chores just before noon and we were off.

     It’s always hard to leave Osawa, an island on Georgian Bay in Ontario that has belonged to my family since the ‘40s. I share it with close to 300 of my closest relatives but on this trip there were 13 at the high point and six at the low. It was heaven. Leaving brings up all the emotion of all the years, of all the memories, of all the people who are no longer with us, and then there’s the when-will-I-return? issue—it’s fraught…with a lot of stuff!

     This was Roger’s first trip and while the boats were not his favorite part, the island became his turf. He explored parts of it I have never seen. He’d chase off into the bogs and gulleys and come back looking so proud of himself. The paths seemed to be particularly deep in moss this summer and I think it felt good on his paws. There was water to drink everywhere! And there were only a few people to be terrified of on any given day. He continues to be an island dog and I couldn’t be happier.

     The trip into the Station was pretty much uneventful. Roger had climbed under the console on the way out and I thought he might disconnect some wires in the process, but he was a little less frantic this time. As we hit the S Channel, I noticed the sky darkening. Hadn’t thought about loading the van in a storm. Turns out there was nothing to worry about, and after a fairly lengthy process, we were heading north on Route 69. I’d say it was painless but it turns out I had scraped my shin—not deeply but long, and it bled a lot.

     The drive north was fun because I hadn’t been there in a very long time. The traffic heading south was heavy and I felt pretty smug in the light traffic going my way. Many miles short of Sault Ste Marie, I started looking for a campground. I saw a sign by the side of the road for the Ojibway Park: The Sun Sets Here. Perfect. The Ojibway is not only one of the local indian tribes (is that politically incorrect? I apologize) but it’s also an island in the archipelago where we hang out.

     Finding this campground was a whole other issue. It’s on Indian land and there are all kinds of signs about not trespassing. I stopped a woman near one of those signs and she gave me directions, which I immediately misinterpreted. I went back up the highway, which didn’t seem to have many exits, and turned back around and tried a frontage road. I thought I would have to give up and return to a small town 25 miles back where I’d seen the last campground when a big sign announced I was there. I was pooped, but thrilled to be “where the sun sets” as it was not long til that was going to happen.

      After checking in, I took a spin through the campground to find our spot. On the second pass, I was headed for a place just over there, when I saw a guy coming out of a more remote spot and wanted to check it out. It was a dead end in a swamp. Looking at my left mirror only (key piece of information), I started backing up. Instead of backtracking, I headed a wee bit further left than I wanted to be. I was in sand. Some distant memory told me not to fight sand. I walked back to the office and asked what to do. She said something like “You aren’t the first.” I bit my tongue, preventing me from saying something--with a few expletives laced in--about how a sign or two might prevent that from happening. Actually there had been a sign that said “Rough Camping.” No kidding.

     Within a few minutes, the security dude showed up. He wasn’t allowed to actually do anything, but he “knew a guy” and an image of dollar signs flashed in my mind. Suck it up Peggy, you brought this on yourself. A few more minutes later, security dude plus adult son, mom, and grandson arrive. He’s a tow truck driver at his day job. Score! I am embarrassed to say I can’t remember their names (the grandson’s name was Mason, which I remember because there was a lot of Mason! Come here/Stop that/Get out of the way!). They were the nicest people in the world that evening. After another few minutes, a guy came through in a honking big truck and leaned out the window and asked if he could help. The tow truck driver said sure. Soon, Christopher joined in the fun along with his itty-bitty wife and two young and also itty-bitty kids.

They went this way and that—where was the hardest ground? Which way was least likely to damage any of the vehicles? Was this do-able? It was amazing to me how every time they moved the van to a new spot, that spot, seemingly hard ground when you walked on it, liquefied into a sandy beach. When Christopher lost his optimistic demeanor and the mosquitos started swarming, I thought we were done for. And thankfully, it was then that they popped the Rogermobile out of the sand. The bike rack got lightly crunched and Christopher’s license plate was bent, but after two hours of all of us (including the security dude) urging them on, we all went home happy. I offered payment, I offered beer or chocolate, but they would take nothing. “This is what we do.” (And I have never been more grateful.)

     After I set up camp, fed poor beleaguered Roger, I took stock. I was covered in mosquito bites, looked a bit disheveled from the day, and had dried blood from the earlier scrape covering a major portion of my shin that I hadn’t noticed til then. They must have thought I was someone who needed help, and they were so right. Thank goodness for the kindness of strangers.

Things I am Learning

& Miscellaneous Observations

• I live in a pretty great neighborhood. There are folks to wave at on the road and many stop to check in. We have Cocktails @ the Mailboxes on occasion for somewhat deeper check ins. There are fruit and vegetables to share. It’s, well, neighborly. Sadly, one of the group was diagnosed with a probable fatal condition. He has been given the prognosis of a year. Yes, it is very sad, and while he is not the first person I’ve known who had a death sentence, for some reason this has been haunting me ever since—and this pnews is, after all, all about me. Often as I am doing something now, I think what if I only had a year? I find it fascinating. And it makes for some interesting conversations. Try it at home.

• As I was walking around the compound (my property) the other day, I kept thinking, next year the garden policy will be “scorched earth.” I just googled it and the usual definition is a military one—the outcome being massive destruction. Look out weeds you are in my sights! This being a rainy summer during which I was away for stretches, the out of doors is out of control. Too far gone this year to deal with, I think. Next year, I’m covering everything with cardboard or plastic or something and there will be some destruction, mark my words.

• When I am walking with Roger, I often think of things I want to remember. This morning I thought the first two things kinda sounded like a name: Tere Moss. That would be easy…and then Tere Moe Moss and by the end, Zane Tere Moe Moss PatsErn. And I even remember what each of those names represents. Ta-dum!

• On this evening’s walk, I was looking at the view—it was that lemony buttery light that comes at the end of the day. The colors were beautiful, and I thought, there is something that reminds me of a watercolor this evening. Then I realized it was because I wasn’t wearing my glasses.

• In my mail when I returned from a recent away-time, I received one mailing from a funeral service company and not one but two mailings (from the same company with exactly the same address and reference numbers) from Maximizing Social Security Adult Learning Center. I guess this is what happens when one turns 60.

• Laura asked me about the Whole 30 food plan I had mentioned in the past and where I was with it now. Bad timing I am afraid, but here’s the confession. While I am pretty good about some of it—limited dairy, wheat, grains, beans—other things have creeped back in. I was non-compliant for a good part of the summer and some of the weight creeped back in, but I’m still ahead of the game and I feel there’s hope for the future. I was pretty depressed for part of the summer and that was when other things swung out of control so…here we go again. Wish me luck! 

• Another Mayberry Moment: On my way out of town on this last trip, I saw the nice man at the downtown Weaverville auto repair shop out front so on a whim I pulled in and asked him if he would mind checking my tire pressure. No problem. We chatted. He asked if I still had “that hybird.” It was a nice way to leave town. I got him the cutest little bottle of maple syrup in Northern Michigan. Love that small town thing…most of the time!

• I screwed up. When I went to Wyoming, I drove right through the town where an old friend lives. I did not contact her. I did not visit her, and now I have lost a friend. She was so hurt she asked to be deleted from the PNewS list. I am sorry. I thought of her, I meant to tell her and it got lost in the process. Sigh.

• I have a neighbor who thinks it’s going to be a hard winter so I hesitate to say this but I look forward to a good frost. Kill all those buzzy things buzzing around my house!
• The morning after the event described above at Ojibway Park, I started off early to get the border crossing over and start the long slog back home. All was uneventful at the border until he said, are you heading south on 75? And I said yes and he said, the Mackinac Bridge is closed til one o’clock for Labor Day. (They used to close half of it so folks could walk on it. Now with people driving cars into large crowds, they’ve closed the whole bridge.) Huh. So much for getting started early. I spent the next many hours exploring the eastern edge of the Upper Peninsula. What a lucky turn of events! Saw some of Lake Superior and some of Lake Michigan and a lot of both the Upper and the Lower Tahquamenon Falls. It was lovely and I will be back. (I spent that night in a state park near Bay City, which was great, and the next night—700 miles later—at home, but that’s another story.)

“Maybe crazy is just the word we use for feelings that will not be contained.” Anna Quindlen, “Every Last One”

PNewL PNewS 25.2

PNewL PNewS

Volume 25 Issue 2                          “All the pnews that phits.”                                  July 2017

Travels with Roger, the Very Good Dog

     I wonder if Roger’s wish to be with me 24/7 wore thin for him over the course of 6,032 miles and 28 days. Despite being a rabid introvert, I do have my moments of enjoying the company of many different people (not together!) and it became apparent on the road, pretty early on, that while he is a good traveler, he is not a good visitor.

     Back story: This past winter I bought Roger an itty bitty RV, well, a van really which henceforth we will call “the rig.” I also call it the Rogermobile but usually forget to because that’s a long word. I wanted to be able to take Roger along on some adventures, and I wanted to visit friends who are far flung and are easier, in my mind, to visit in a row without puddle-jumping flights. And oh, how I wanted Roger to be along for the ride. Alas, as I said—better traveler than a visitor and soon I found it too hard to watch him cower as we arrived at each new destination. And every day is like Groundhog Day (the movie…and now a Broadway Show!), starting the getting to know people process anew. Lesson learned. We will figure out how to live on the road so we are both happy.

     Despite his lack of interest in meeting or re-meeting friends and family, we had a great time and saw some wonderful country. I billed this as the Friends & Family Tour—when Gene told me that Crater Lake might have roads closed into late June or July because of snow, I said, no pretty stuff, we are only seeing people. But the fact is, getting to the F&F, there is a lot of beautiful country to see and I am grateful to the folks who thought to preserve it.

     We left North Carolina heading west, staying in State Parks in Kentucky (hilly campground with lake), Missouri (lovely peaceful off the beaten path), Nebraska (huge reservoir) and Wyoming (gorgeous rock formations) over the next four nights. I had to make a quick detour to Paducah, the Quilt Capitol, to shop at Hancocks of Paducah where I have shopped online since online became a place one could shop. It did not disappoint. I couldn’t go to the quilting museum because it was too hot to leave Roger in the rig. Paducah is right on the Ohio River and this was where my interest in the rivers and how folks are using them began.

     I tried to stay on the “red roads” on my maps—not the interstates. I quickly learned that while these are good roads, typically lightly travelled, they are not as fast as the interstates and as a pedal to the metal kinda driver, this was an adjustment. The upside was the intimate view into Main Street America, which while interesting, was not always a happy sight. It did, however, make me understand a little bit more about how we could have differing views of the world based on where we live. My usual line, when I end up somewhere I don’t like is, If I lived here, I would move. Now I kept thinking if I lived here maybe I would have voted differently. Downtown small town America is empty. And Dollar Stores of all varieties are thriving. (Interestingly, on the red roads there are fewer Walmarts than I would have expected).

     In Laramie, we met up with Tim and Gwen who are volunteering at the Wyoming Regional Prison State Historic Site (I think those words are in the right order). They had started working there a week or so before I arrived so practiced their tour guiding on me. It’s a very cool facility. Stop in if you are nearby. Big selling point: It’s the only place Butch Cassidy was incarcerated! Continuing west and north to Jackson WY where Lisa and Charlie provided a phenomenal location (directly across the road from the Grand Tetons) and wonderful hospitality. And plenty of wildlife--the bison were frequent commuters across the prairie around the house. Onward to Missoula for a nice visit with Martha and her family, a brief visit with Suzy, Peggy and Betsy who I shared three weeks in China with almost 20 years ago (seriously???) and a trip to Wild Horse Island.

     It was on Wild Horse Island, that I finally decided the trip as planned was not going to work for Roger. I thought about turning around from there but really wanted to get to Portland and Peter, which also included a side trip to Sunriver to see Gene, but I’ll get back to that in a minute. While Roger was kind of a wreck in people’s homes, he had no fear when it came to riding in a boat out to the island. And when I set him on the dock, he trotted off as if he’d been doing it all his life. I had had a lot of worries about his reaction to both the boat and the island, but thankfully, he is an island dog.

     We had a good ride over to Portland staying in another State Park along the Columbia River, a lovely stay with my charming brother, and nice visit with Gene who was a good guide to Central Oregon, his relatively new home. Upon returning back to Portland to take Peter home, it seemed the right thing to do to make a relatively slow slog home. We missed Washington and visits with old friends which I had really looked forward to along with all of what is my visits to California—lots of people and fun. Sigh. But it would have been a lot of hopping around and adjusting, and Roger put his paw down and said no. Okay, he didn’t really but I got the picture.

     Back on the road, we spent the night at the Wallowa Lake State Park (lovely) and then on around the edge of Hells Canyon (who knew how pretty that could be!?!) into Idaho where I kinda ran out of State Parks and good campground juju. I know they are out there but not where we were, and we stayed at a just-off-the-highway place that was mostly occupied by people who I think lived there on a pretty much permanent basis. It was not as sad as it sounds (or as sad as we were about to face) but it was different scenery than we’d been seeing. The light through the cornfields that surrounded us as well as the wavy weeping willows softened the edges.

     Through some more of Idaho into a corner of Utah (saw the Salt Lake but only for a few moments) and then across into Colorado where we found Yampa River State Park. The following day we went down through great mountains on lovely little roads and landed in Kansas. I thought as I finally pulled into a “campground” that really was a truck stop beside the highway and trucks full of fly infested cattle, that I would write a country western song called “I found Hell and it’s in Kansas.” ‘Nuf said.

[Wow—are you glad I didn’t go to Washington and California? How I do run on!]

     We tried the scenic road in Kansas, which to me didn’t look a whole lot different than the other roads and eventually we were in Missouri where we found the Laura Ingalls Wilder RV Park directly across from the home where she wrote the Little House on the Prairie etc. Exciting! The last night on the road (prior to the scariest drive of the trip on a wiggly road along a boiling river from TN into NC in a blinding rainstorm) was at the David Crockett State Park, cram-packed with cars parked everywhere and every inch occupied. Thankfully everyone was well behaved and I scored neighbors who were two elderly brothers just starting on a three month road trip to Alaska who had brought along some watermelons they’d plucked from their field before leaving home in Alabama. In return, I gave them a month’s supply of poop bags for their puppy. It was the best I could do on short notice.

     I guess I would say it’s good to be home. I am sorry I missed the parts we skipped, but am glad I honored Roger’s limitations. On the other hand, we had a blast—the campgrounds were a fascinating look at an array of lifestyles. I liked seeing all the different “rigs” and accoutrements. We were usually the smallest vehicle in the place, but I did enjoy seeing how other people decked themselves out for “glamping.” It’s a great way to see the country and the people in it. As I said, Roger is a good traveller so I know we have many miles ahead.

Things I am Learning

& Miscellaneous Observations

• I must say I did have some storage envy as I inspected the neighboring campers’ rigs (from the outside) -- my space is very limited and I was overloaded as it was.

• There are a lot of rivers in this country that are being used for transporting goods. In one town in southern Illinois, a long line of trucks waited to unload onto barges in the Mississippi. Based on my route, I felt like we were very far from any roads where I would normally see this many semis. Plus, in the middle of what looks like nowhere to me, there are a lot of huge bridges over those huge rivers. It made me wonder about when they were all built and if this infrastructure is being well taken care of.

• Along with an insight into life on Main Street America, I was kinda horrified by the state of housing in some of those small towns. “Sub-standard” barely covers it.

• Mosquitos seem to be everywhere. I am wondering if they will be around after the apocalypse…mosquitos and cockroaches…how’s that for a party?

• You might have gathered I have a little bit of a “thing” for State parks. I have to say—I am impressed. Nice facilities, well taken care of and well used, and they seem to be everywhere. (I am sure there are plenty that aren’t all of the above but so far, they’re good for me.) I got a mailing from the NC State Park system which is quite handsome. I look forward to investigating the parks closer to home.

• I also really enjoyed secondary roads. They offer a view into small towns (where I had to slow down, stop at stop signs or traffic signals) and they can be plenty easy to drive but they are slower and a little more tiring. I found I had to plan accordingly. I often wondered why some towns are prosperous and others are not—this was not apparent as I trundled on through.

• I was wowed by the beautiful places I’ve never heard of--Curt Gowdy State Park, Hell’s Canyon, Land Between the Lakes--to name but a few.

• I much appreciated the middle-aged park people who put middle-aged camper in campsites near toilets.

• Camping does nothing for my hair.

• I need to remember to give as much thought to the end of the trip as I do to the beginning. Since this ending came faster than expected I cut myself slack, but I found I didn’t have as much time to look at the big picture on the road as I would have expected. Things take longer when camping and travelling with a dog.

• Billboards in the heartland are different. Saw several for quilt shops and fertilizer and the benefits of GMOs.

• There are a lot of trains crisscrossing this country. I like it. Hope they continue to make them available as transportation.

• “Odor of America”—I found this in my notes (yes, I make notes for the PNewS). It doesn’t ring any bells other than the aforementioned “campground” with the cows and flies.

• Wow—I almost forgot to mention one of the unexpected highlights of the trip: Spring flowers! Blooms across the Plains and into Wyoming, Montana and beyond were everywhere and it was unexpected and so beautiful.

• And, by the way, it can still be quite cold in June in parts of this country. While I had worried about the heat on the return trip, running into snow in Wyoming and Oregon was a bit of a surprise.

• I will try to remember: take less stuff. I had way too many books and knitting projects. Too many clothes and dishes. Oddly, not enough silverware.

• Another note to self which doesn’t conjure up much of a memory but are words to live by: “No judgment. We all do things differently.”

• I asked Peter and Gene to come with me to refill my propane tank. That kind of thing intimidates me and I figured they’d be good folks to have along on this adventure. After a total of about four weeks in the van, making coffee and boiling water and maybe a scrambled egg, I paid the nice man about $1 to “refill” my tank. Good to know.

• (Not van trip related) It’s always a relief and a bit of buyer's remorse when I finally make a plane reservation.

• I have a new dishwasher, which makes me incredibly happy—I can actually run it when I am in the house. It’s practically silent. I was looking at the directions and am curious about the rinse aid product that makes dishes dryer. I don’t get it—isn’t dry dry? I also am amazed at the diagrams of how to fill the two racks. What if you don’t only have cups, glasses, plates and bowls for eight?

Test Drives and other Distractions

    The first test drive was solo and practically local. In early April, I took a metalworking class at the John C Campbell Folk School, which I should say was a ton of fun. We made rooster lawn art. Can’t wait to go back. They have a campground on campus and they provide a variety of meal plan options, which took the pressure off menu planning. I opted for lunch and dinner, which gave me one quiet time meal and two with other people. That worked for me

     The campground is pretty quiet—some commuting traffic early but keep in mind this is Brasstown NC so if absolutely everyone in town drove by, there’d hardly be a line at the stop sign. Anyway, it was peaceful. I think the only weird part was that locals would pull in to use the bathrooms and showers. And the too bad part was that it rained and stormed most of the week. I think I only popped the camper top one out of four days. But everything went well, I thought.

            The second test drive, Roger’s first, we went to meet up with Gini and Blaze, another very good dog, in Georgia. We stayed for a few days at the campground on Jekyll Island, which is very civilized though packed. It was a great view of tons of different kinds of rigs. But Gini lives at the beach and I used to live at the beach and we ran out of interest in the beach so we headed inland where it turned out it was pretty hot and sweaty…in April. We ended up at Little Lake Ocmulgee State Park, which was not a bad place, just a little odd. The lake was the opposite of inviting and the people at the Inn on the property where we checked in were strangely uninformed. It provided a place to land and we explored a little. If you are ever in the area, check out the Statue of Liberty made from recycled objects in nearby McRae.

     And last but certainly not least (and not a test drive), I spent my birthday weekend in New York City celebrating with some friends from high school and college. Fourteen of us from the class of ’75 gathered for a fun time. I saw shows, and the Chihuly exhibit at the NY (Bronx) Botanical Gardens, ate, and went to a Gala. It was a perfect celebration.

     I think that’s probably enough about me.

How’re you?