Book tour

Two nights ago I had the pleasure of reading from the anthology, Sisters Singing, in Portland, Oregon. Annie Bloom's is a fantastic independent book store and the place was packed. On to Seattle!

Irene's adventure

Irene had to rush through Columbia River Gorge. Not the best way to see one of the most beautiful spots on the planet but Irene knows how to sqeeze every moment out of every day.

Happy Birthday, Annie Bones

Yesterday, Annie Bones turned four. Now we're going to stop counting. The years are going by too fast.

Internet woes

I'm just plodding through the stages. Maybe tomorrow morning I'll have better luck or I will have reached the 'acceptance' plateau.

Baby salon?

Sign on shop said, 'Infinity Spa and Salon'. I read, 'Infant Spa and Salon'.

A little light

Quiet in camp today, cloudy. I'm practicing for tomorrow's book reading at Annie Blooms. Feeling a little homesick, though we've been gone less than two weeks.

Stating the obvious

The name on this building, "Unrepentant Purple."

Ambiance

Must be on the inside.

Twilight Zone

I'm beginning to see beneath the sun and the glittering manicured lawns. There is something wrong in this Stepford-like RV park: I was joshing with a man about his washing his big RV, then we met while walking our dogs. The sun was shinning. The sky blue. He was a friendly man, the kind you meet along the way, a fellow traveler. "Cute dog," he said looking at Annie B. "Thanks, yours too," I said. "These bastards in Washington," he said suddenly. "The Pelosis, the Obamas, the bastards."

I was sitting outside reading a book, kicked back, Annie B lying in the shade of the picnic table when an RV pulled up next to us, parked and an exuberant couple got out. "Howdy!" the man said. They came over, plunked themselves down, made themselves at home. "Where you from?" and all that. The very moment they heard my traveling companion was a woman, they asked to be moved several 'streets' away.

I was taking a walk, came upon a man and woman and their two dogs. They are work-campers, travel the country working at RV parks in exchange for free rent. Nice people, interesting, 'dog-people'. Want to build for Habitat for Humanity. Their little dog, wearing a bandanna nipped at Annie, the way dogs do to arrange their pecking order. Suddenly the nice man took off his hat and began beating the dog. Beating and beating.

I'm telling you, it must be the air, or the water. I'm scared. (we're also out of here, right after tomorrow night's book reading in Portland.)

July 4th

When we first got to this RV park we were happy to note no fireworks were allowed. Annie Bones is terrified of them and we thought a quiet 4th would be perfect.

I find myself remembering the wild parties my parents hosted in the 50s where the grown-ups all got drunk and the kids stayed up deep into the night and suffered burns from errant rockets and black eyes from sparklers gone array. Dangerous debacles where we finally did go to bed covered in watermelon juice and blistered feet from walking on the 'snakes' that littered the backstep.

This evening I'm listening for an explosion, laughter, crying injured kids. But here the grown ups sit in dignified circles on lawn chairs and speak in whispers like this celebrating is grim business. Next to us a man is working on his sewer system and across the way a woman is reading a paperback. There are no kids.

Around the bend

Yesterday at Chinook Bend RV Park on the Chinook River in Oregon I watched a man remove the wheel from his red rusty truck. I watched him pour a Tupperwear container of oil onto the grass next to his beat up trailer.
"Big job, huh?" I asked.
"Yep," he said. "Almost too big." Then still covered in grease, he picked up one of his many fishing poles and headed for the river.
This morning, walking Annie B. in the fog shrouded meadow I watched a mortuary van ease down the dirt road. I rounded the bend and they were parked in front of the man's trailer.
"Did someone die?" I asked quietly.
"Yep," replied the driver who was drinking coffee and wearing a white shirt and tie.
"The man in the trailer?" I asked.
"Yep. You fish?" he asked me.
"Nope," I replied.
"You cook?" he asked.
"Nope."
"You eat the salmon?"
"If someone cooks it," I replied. Then I said, "What are you waiting for?"
"The deputy, got to have a deputy," the driver said. I took a last look at the beat up trailer, the pile of fishing poles and the rusty red truck. I looked at the oil stain in the grass.
"Well, have a good one," I said.
"You too," the driver said.

A mighty wind

These Oregon coast winds can flatten a cockapoo.

Common ground

I met a geophysicist in the forest yesterday who was on his way to a Kate Wolf festival. While I didn't quite understand what he did for a living, I completely understood his taste in music.

Up and away

I'm climbing the ladder, going through the window, seeing what's on the other side. I'll be back in about 6 weeks, perhaps newly energized and inspired. It depends of course on what I find, inside and out.

Blogless

Staring at the floor hasn't helped, nor wringing my hands. Facts are facts. My blog-sense has gone the way of all passing things. I don't know if this is temporary and neither does that woman in the blue dress.

Coming in 3rd

Annie Bones came in 3rd out of 10 winners in the local Woof to Woof Dog Parade! She won a bag of buffulo livers.

Don't call

Someone in Santa Cruz won 39 million in the lottery this weekend. To all my friends and relatives: It wasn't me.

Happy Father's Day

To my sons, Aaron and Sol. Both unique and incredible fathers to my 3 grandkids.

Yesterdays

The man who owns this bar/restaurant was so despondent when his Doberman died he had him stuffed. To get inside to order lunch, you have to pass right by the hapless creature in a glass case. (Yesterdays specialty: The Tower of Spam.)

Our new neighbors

We met a man named Bert who is going to teach us how to weld.

Fence leading into Chloride, AZ

Our new property, 1st and Tennessee, 3 lots with water and electric and a Nubian goat living next door.

Chloride, AZ

I've been searching for a tiny desert town just like the one I fled 30 years ago. Maybe today is the day.

The Book

I feel lighter already.

Hiding out

I've gone into hiding. I just got my 'finished' book back and discovered a whole new meaning for 'not done'. I'll be in the sticks, writing my heart out and will return when I've got a book in the bag.

Looking up

Things are looking up. If I hadn't bothered to pay attention, this cactus flower in my kitchen window would have lived its entire life without me knowing.

As the crow flies

In the Mojave Desert I lived near Edward's Air Force Base. If a space shuttle was unable to land in Florida, it was detoured to Edward's.
I was lying on my rickety chaise lounge one afternoon behind my house on our 5 acres when one of these shuttles flew right over my house as it was being transported back to Florida.
I remember thinking it was the most ordinary of things to see in the desert sky.

Rite of passage

I'm hearing a lot about "The Prom" lately. A rite of passage, an integral ingredient in a young girl's development. I didn't go to 'my prom'.
I hung out with a small group of what would now be called hippies, in a little shack on a friend's property that skirted the railroad tracks in a rural southern California town, listening to the oud on our Crosley Stack-o-Matic.
The rite of passage obviously isn't the same for all young girls.

Out to lunch

Today the State Supreme Court has made a ruling. They're going to tell us what that is on Tuesday. What, they have a barbeque to go to? They're waiting for a microphone? What?

Treasures

Today at the flea, I bought someones partial plate complete with about 10 teeth, 2 books, 4 pansies and one very rusted and heavy seed planter from yesteryear.

Happy Birthday, Tyler!!!

My grandson turns 15 today. He is one fantastic kid, great student, football star, world traveler. He's the one who willingly gives up his space when we visit so we'll be comfortable. He saves me from killer dogs and when we travel together he makes sure there are no tarantulas, sea crabs or other creatures lurking in my room! Have a great one, Ty!

Annie Bones and her pink bandage

Annie Bones has her very first injury. We thought she might have a tick because of our recent trip to the Sierra's. The vet thought she had a little tumor...but many dollars and pain and suffering later, a thorn was discovered! Poor little Annie...(nice bandage though)

The cupboard is bare

This morning after a dog walk, I came home famished. I scrounged around and found an old hamburger bun that I toasted. Guess I'll have to put down my pen and run to the store for essentials. The muse can only feed you for so long.

Stacked chairs

Doris Salcedo (b. 1958) Columbian born sculptor. (looks a little like my bedroom closet.)

Grave situation

Lately I've been having gravity issues. I'm dealing with them one toe at a time. Baring wind shear I should be back to normal soon.

Zasu Pitts and her lucky jade

We walked by Zasu Pitts' childhood home yesterday in Santa Cruz. It is currently nestled between the Nick, (indie theatre) and Jack's Hamburgers. Out front was a small hand printed sign: 'Cuttings from Zasu's lucky jade. Help yourself.' So we did. Today I'll find a sunny spot for planting and hope the jade brings us fame and fortune the way it did for Zasu.

Preparing for disaster

My best friend, Susan and I used to spend our days preparing for disaster. We'd strap one arm to our bodies and go through the day using only one hand, just in case we ever lost our arm. We blindfolded ourselves, spending hours in darkness for the day we went blind. We were Girl Scouts. We'd been taught to always be prepared. And we were.

Honoring the mother in us

In honor of Mother's Day, I've finally cleaned my writing room, a place I abandoned months ago. A place where the expectations were just too high. A room that asked too much of me. (I've been writing on a chair in the house). Now I'm going back. I'll see if the room lives up.

Almost famous

I've always loved those photos of the 'first drafts' of things by famous people, their scribblings on cocktail napkins or the sides of menus and paper bags. So, here's mine. Please take note.

Wildlife

When we first saw this animal from our RV window we thought it might be a deer or a cow, possibly an elephant, (note 'trunk' on right side of animal), or maybe something prehistoric. I hiked across the field and found out it was a wild turkey, (a huge wild turkey!).

Much too large for this little cat to tackle, so the two of us just watched together.

Amado draws Toronto

My son posted this photo of his son, Amado drawing several days ago. The more I look at the picture, the more I love it. I just had to use it as my own.

May Sarton's Well

Yesterday would have been May Sarton's 97th birthday. I can't count how many nights I've immersed myself in her journals, poetry and fiction. I've always felt connected to her. My friend, Sandra Martz was the publisher responsible for 'May Sarton's Well'. See Sandra's tribute to May on her blog: http://www.skmartz.blogspot.com/

Excuse me, do you have a Kleenex?

Today, a United Airlines flight from Munich was diverted to Chicago or somewhere because a 53 year old passenger complained of a runny nose. What I don't get is why a 53 year old person would complain to anyone about a runny nose. There is so much mystery out there.

Banjos in the bar

When I lived in the desert, my friend and I took up the banjo. We practiced a lot and decided it was time for our 1st gig. We went to the Yucca Inn on Hwy 138 on Super Bowl Sunday, set up and began vigorously playing 'Shucking the Corn'. The people in the bar, trying to be nice, smiled a lot, but kept turning up the sound on the TV so eventually all you could hear was the roar of the football crowd. We learned we should probably check the calendar before our next musical engagement. That and maybe practice a little more.

Vacationland

Before I retired I didn't understand why and how retired people went on "vacation". (I mean 'vacation' from what?) Now, I get it. We're leaving early tomorrow morning for the Sierras. Back next week. (I'm going to take my guitar and on Sunday, I'm going to play the 3 chords I know and sing, "This land is my land...!" Robustly..see post below.)

Happy Birthday, Pete Seeger (May 3rd)

Pete Seeger is an incredible human being and one of my heros. He and dozens of performers will celebrate his 90th birthday at Madison Square Gardens in NYC (Katie) this Sunday. Boy, what wouldn't I give to be there. I'd even give my hammer, (if I had one).

In the words of Anne Lamott

I've been struggling lately, working on a huge desert writing project. At times it's been overwhelming.
I say to Irene: I just can't do it. It's too much...
Irene, paraphrasing the writer Annie Lamott says: Thorn by thorn my dear, take it thorn by thorn.

Garden talk

We get started on our major gardening project early. The sun has just seeped through the cypress blind across the street, the birds are chattering in our neighbor's apple tree, a yellow butterfly lingers on a pink bloom. I'm standing on a ladder, pulling weeds from a planter tower in our wall.
Me: If I fell from this ladder, suffered a hematoma on the saltillo tile and died, would you move?
Irene: Move? No way!
Me: Why, because you'd be too bereft?
Irene: No, because this place would be just perfect for one person.

Our shy neighbor

Our neighbor's VW thinks we can't see it. Like if it stays real still it'll go undetected. It's a shy car.