Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Day Last

Thoughts and observations on my way back to the default world--

It really is the Very Best Way Ever to wake up.

I get teary-eyed every time we start to drive away from the desert because it *could* be the last time.

The sky along I-5 today looks like an aquatint or a watercolor wash painting.

The older semi rig drivers are the best to draft behind because they know how to keep a constant speed for miles and miles and miles.

The Pleasant Land of Counterpane (go look it up) lies on the west side of I-5 between Lost Hils and Avenal. Really. After you look it up, drive there and see :-)

Monday, March 26, 2012

Quote of the day

"I was so royally fucked that now I am wearing a tiara!" Stolen, blatantly, from MTW

On the Fifth Day we rested

Formula for a lovely day --

Start by sleeping in, past 8AM if you can manage that, until 8:45 is even better. Then, when you DO wake up, let it be by the sweetest, hottest, most loving manner you and your partner can dream up. [I'll leave the exact details to you ;-) ]

Stretch, shower, and enjoy a leisurely breakfast: fried eggs and Canadian bacon on English Muffins. Don't spare the Cajun Sunshine hot sauce either.

Make only one trip to the hardware store for the parts to fix the gate; instead of the usual three trips. Clean, vacuum, straighten, rearrange the RV. Finish those chores at exactly the same time and celebrate with fish 'n' chips lunch at Fishermans Market Grill (http://www.fishermans.com/palmsprings.php). Be sure to get an outside table and people watch while gorging on perfectly fried cod and chips with malt vinegar.

Home after lunch, one (me) weed side yard and pick up detritus from backyard and the other (he) vacuum through the house. Yawn. Both go take a nap

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Day 4.5

Driving back from Phoenix got a little bit dicey the closer we got to Quartzsite. The wind kicked up and gusted enough so Michael could no longer draft the semis. By the time I took the wheel in Quartzsite, it was "blowing like snot" -- I think that is a Canadian idiom -- and the sideways barn door we call an RV was rather hard to keep between the white lines. I white-knuckled it for an hour, then Michael took over just before the gusts doubled and the rain began.

Snug, warm and dry in our nest in Windy Cove (that really is the name of this canyon!), we are sipping a lovely Malbec and listening to rain drip off the eaves. Soon the pulled pork will be hot and ready to pile on tortillas.

Let tomorrow take care of itself.

Day Four

Wonderful lecture today on Chaco Canyon and on Southwestern Indian Jewelry, past and present. It was especially interesting to see how young, modern artists interpret the traditional motifs. The best talk was RV Boot Camp though. We came away with a lot of very practical tips.

But now we are headed West again, toward home-in-the-desert.


To be continued ...

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Day Three, part deux

The bad news: Martina McBride's sound system wasn't up to the venue.

The good news: we are spending some quality time together, in Moon Dance, with a glass (or three) of wine and Chris Smither on the box.

"Passion is feeling in motion, Compassion is standing still. This isn't just a vocation. Hearing is letting it happen, but to listen's a work of will. Beware of cheap imitations."

"I'm not a passenger; I am the ride."

Day Three

Today started with a lecture about Navaho and Hopi art and culture and continued through one about switching over to LED lighting (I plan to, gradually). Next we stood for nearly two hours waiting for Michael's name to be drawn for one of several fabulous prizes. No such luck. We do have our names in for several minor drawings, like the one for a solar powered lantern, and other camping esoterica.

Now we are about to leave for tonight's show -- Martina McBride. [Mark, if you are reading this, eat your heart out :-) ]

The best part? A week camping with my soul mate, lover and best friend. Can't beat that, no way!!

My Chickens' First Night

 Sunset  was at 8:11 pm so I went out to the pen a little after 8. The three chickens were milling around, scratching and peeping and seemin...