REMOTE POST

A long time friend, Pam Munn came to stay with me for a couple weeks. We've been visiting old haunts in Calaveras County where she spent most of her life. We stopped in for a visit with her brother-in-law, Ken Munn and her nephew, John. Ken's dog is so protective that she couldn't get close enough to hug him.

Ken is a character, and at 84 years old, hasn't lost his sense of humor and likes to "pull your leg."

He likes to get out and water the plants in the morning. We enjoyed a day of balmy, beautiful weather. His place is remote and blessed with starry nights and peace and quiet. I discovered his place can grow olives, lemons, & cherries with no fear of deep frosts. The Elevation is equal with Mokelumne Hill.

This is Roady, so named by ranchers who use the road. He hogs the road in the shade to soak up the warmth from the asphalt yet remain out of the sun. He moves slowly from obvious arthritis when you get him to move. Just another character revered by the neighbors.

Colorful entrances beckon and guard. Beauty in an area so remote that few people get to see them.

A colorful old barn with a stone foundation still in use. Makes me want to get out the paint brush and easel.


Two flanking cupids guard the entrance to this ranch.

Also repeated in an out building.

I love the gnarled old shade giving tree. They belong together like old friends.

No need for a locked mailbox in this country.

Ken's friend Betty stopped to visit and suggested we go to the Peach Festival in Copperopolis. We didn't see a sign and couldn't find it, so we drove around Lake Tulloch and made our way back to Murphys. It has been years since I've been in "Copper". I'm stuck at home with six more weeks of therapy, but guests get you out of your rut to places and things you've never seen. What a fun day.

A PICTURE PROJECT.

It rained most of yesterday, pleasantly. Jim and I took a walk between raindrops, but mostly I worked on my picture file. After having tossed all of my pictures and getting most of them back, I’m disaster shy and decided maybe I’d like to publish some of my blogs in a book like they advertise on Lulu or Blurb or half-a-dozen other outfits. The save-to-disk feature was difficult and having one of those outfits print your blog for you is a somewhat complicated organizing task. I ended up buying, online, a new laser printer instead. It  will print my stuff out very professionally for less than the publisher could do it.  All of this explanation to get to a bunch of barn pictures that had been lost, now found. The ivy covered silo above caught my eye on a rainy day, somewhere in the east in 2010.

Eastern barns, because of winter weather, are much more substantially made. These were taken with my old camera, and I notice it very much when I prowl around old files.

In fact, most of them were taken through the window while moving down the road.

I continue to think of barns as endangered species, so I expect I’ll keep getting as many pictures of them as I can in my travels. There is a website I used to visit often of a woman who chose barns, gas stations, bridges, signs, I can’t even remember all of the subjects she chose. She would say, “…oh, don’t get me started on another subject!”  She would travel around the U.S. with one subject in mind to preserve it in photos. Her photos will probably be famous some day. That is not my aim, but I think it is a fun idea.  She actually pinpointed where each barn or beach or sign was located and gave the exact date she was there.

If I went back and read my blog for March 2nd or 3rd  in 2010, I’d probably know where I was. Does that make sense?

This barn resembles a California barn and may be a picture I stuck in the same file. I think I’ll  go back to my project and call it a day.

MANY ROADS LEAD TO BARNS.

On Sunday, Jim and I drove around and took more barn pictures, a bit closer to home this time. We drove up French Gulch Rd. The reservoir holding Angels Camp's water looked peaceful and pretty enough to photograph.

And a lovely old barn stood near it.

Back in Murphys, right where French Gulch and the Murphys Grade Rd. meet is old Judge Kramer's barn. His granddaughter Gail, married John Kautz and it now belongs to the Kauz family. A small house sits on the property and I got a kick out of the basketball hoop attached even though the ground is uneven and rocky.

One block north of Murphys Main St. on Church, are several notable old buildings. This 1920's era garage for one.

This old miner's shack was occupied by a Miwuk Indian by the name of Gus when I first moved to Murphys.

This old miner's shack is of the same era, only painted. The rock foundation is partially gone.

Covered with vines, it still has appeal, unused, but still full of character.

This barn actually forms the corner of Algiers and Church Streets. Whenever I turn that corner I marvel that no one has hit the old barn.
As you can see, it stands right on the road.

The new owners have kept the old privy as well. The property, with a huge yard and house is now a wine tasting place, with room for picnics in the yard. It is entered from Main St.

I like the old weathered wood. The paint has been wearing off for some time.

We then drove out to Kautz's Winery, about a mile from town. This barn with what looks like a grain feeder on the back sits to the left of the road.

And another old wreck on the down slope reveals it's purpose. And old water tank, or fuel tank for  a tractor at work maybe? Hard to tell.

The vines exhibit a beautiful mix of colors at this time of year.

The vines cover the hillsides leading up to the nationally renowned Kautz Winery and Events Center.  At one point Jim and I spotted a herd of deer that had somehow gotten inside of the deer fencing.  We tried to photography them, but they ran as soon as we got out of the car. Photographing old barns seems worthwhile to me, but I haven't a clue what to do with them. I've watched a few of them topple in my years here, so I hope this preserves a bit of the past.

SIX MILLION RV'S ON THE ROAD.

Memorial Day is tomorrow. We read where there are an estimated six million rv's  on the road for this three-day holiday. Jim has a philosophy, and that is to hunker down somewhere for popular holidays and stay off the road. We spent Thursday night at an American Legion in Dillsburg,  PA. We saw bunches of vets with motorcycles headed for various parades and festivities honoring vets. Friday morning, he drove through another rain storm to bring us to a Thousand Trails in Hershey, PA.

 I took a couple of barn pictures between raindrops.

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I compared the beauty of the land to this painting from the Shenandoah Valley Museum. The same general area.

And this painting. An unusual boat for American waters. I've never seen any thing like it. You can click on it to enlarge it.

It was beastly cold and we stayed in and read  and did computer chores most of the day. A short walk away, ducks were so cold we thought at first they were decoys; their heads tucked under wings.
Then, yesterday, we did our laundry and walked to the visitors center for a look around. The pool opened for the season, but I wasn't up to braving the cold. We looked through the library and traded books we've read for some we haven't.  I'm walking slowly, so Jim took an evening walk by himself.

I'm reading an excellent book entitled My Dream Of You by Nuala O'Faolain.  O'Faolain returns to her native Ireland to dig up a story of an aristocratic family during the potato famine. I'm French/Irish and it reminds me that there was genocide in Ireland during that horrific period. Living on the road for months at a time, gives me the luxury of reading good books as well as my trash novels, and I love it.

KEENELAND RACE TRACK

We typically rise before the sun, but not all sunrises are as beautiful as this one where we are parked at Keeneland Racetrack. The grounds are lovely here, with lot of room to park the motor home.
We walked up to the Track Kitchen at 7:00 for a hearty breakfast. Along the roads at Keeneland, you don't find fallen leaves. It's horse manure. Aren't I gross? Bloggers will take a picture of anything. Truthfully, the birds call it breakfast, only I didn't catch the birds.

The barns stretch out on both sides of the main road to the track. The horses get exercised each morning. Two grooms attended to this beauty, one holding, the other washing his sweaty pastern, cannon, ankle and hoof. (Left click to make pictures larger.)

I looked back, and the steady groom was kissing his charge. The horse is now wet and soapy up on his thighs, and the groom is working his tail. These horses are treated like princesses.

An exercise girl is just returning her horse to the barn.

She turns the horse over to the grooms. After a bath, a hot walker, walks the horse in a circle for about 30 minutes to settle down after the run.

And if the horse is lucky, he or she will get a nibble of grass before being returned to a stall.

Dozing in a bit of sunlight shining into his stall, waiting for an attendant to feed him or give a treat.

Each groom has to get rid of the old straw each day and replace it with new straw. It was steaming in the crisp cold of morning.

The horses so beautiful, the workers so practiced and fast, I just didn't tire of watching them.

The horses and riders came streaming in groups back from the track. We thought we'd missed the exercise, but one girl told us that they were coming in for a break and would start again in 10 minutes.

Always, the wrapped cannon, and ankles,  the most vulnerable part of a race horse.

The exercise saddle is almost like riding bareback.

Then another horse comes in from the track with a head cover and only his back ankles wrapped. I guess each trainer and horse gets individual attention, but whatever is needed.

I watched him turn into the barn and couldn't believe how fast the groom removed the wrappings.

A good view of the soapy hooves.

In the adjacent barn, a groom was allowing his charge to nibble fresh grass. The horses love that. I asked who the owner was. He told me Greg Burchell and pointed to a stall.

Greg is an owner trainer and he was feeding his horses grapes for a treat. The horse is blurry in this photo but the pure joy on Greg's  face is clear. He invited us to pet the horses.

Horses are such intelligent animals. They return your affection.

If you've never been tempted to nuzzle the soft nose of a horse, you can't imagine what a pleasure that is.  He loves his horses and it shows.

She wanted more grapes, but all I could offer was a salty hand to lick. She brought her owners a million dollars.

Then he introduced us to Sticks, a young horse of unusual height at 17.2 hands. He had the groom turn her around.

He checked her feet.

And we got a good look at her. A real beauty. He says she has injured herself on the stall because she is tall for a thoroughbred. She is named for one of the owners and his good friend who carries Stick for a nick-name.

We finally got to the track where we met Ashley, a medical technician. A lovely job for a young girl. She worked as an Emergency Medical Tech for the fire department.  Now, she works the races, much more exciting. She sometimes rides the race with the horses in a van. She is there to see to an injured rider.
We didn't get a correct website for Greg and hope to have it tomorrow when we'll share our race track photos.