AJO, ARIZONA

Yesterday, before we left Painted Rock, this little fox came out of a hole and decided to catch the last rays of  sunshine.

As the sun went down, a partner popped out of the hole and we watched them cavort, and peek and scamper in and out of their den which is right next to the road in the park.  Then, when it got dark, they took off and went hunting. Taking pictures was tough with the low light and their quick movements, but, doncha know?  We  love this kind of entertainment.

As we were leaving the park, and on arriving, too, we saw gigantic power lines being installed. Jim speculated it was a new solar installation. As we rounded the bend, there was the sign.  ABENGOA, Solana Generating Station.  We love to see that happen. It is interesting that at Painted Rock, and at every campground or boondocking site we stay, we are the only RV with lights on in the early morning.  Thanks to our solar. We get up and enjoy the quiet mornings with plenty of power.


We  drove to Ajo, Arizona, did our laundry, drove around town, went to the visitors center for sight seeing  information and visited the VFW. They allowed us to park overnight .  Jim took a notion to photograph our view from the dining room window every morning, just for the heck of it. Sometimes they are diamonds and sometimes coal.  I kind of chuckled over what is sure to be a coal picture today.  Light is just breaking and he went off to help the post volunteers  set up tables and canopies for a big chili cook off.  Looks like we are in for a fun day!
Last night we had a beer at the VFW bar. For a small town, they lost 16 guys to WWII and they have three graves right on site. I’ve never seen that before. We’ll probably learn more about it today.

AT WAR WITH MYSELF

I'm a collectiholic. I hate throwing anything away. I've kept bags filled with used corks, pretty colored bits of shiny paper, magazines articles, wire, bobby pins, broken fishing poles, tool handles,  faded lumpy sleeping bags, hair curlers...if it has a shape, and a former use, it  is useable. If I give-in and throw it out, that item immediately reveals its usefulness the moment I can no longer retrieve it.  I'm honestly trying to change those old habits.  I'm regularly at war with myself over this issue and the junk often wins. Imagine my delight and validation in rediscovering Edgar Guest's poem:
THE JUNK BOX
                   The Junk Box
                                                      Edgar Guest
          My father often used to say:
          "My boy, don't throw a thing away:
          You'll find a use for it some day."
          So in a box he stored up things,
          Bent nails, old washers, pipes and rings,
          And bolts and nuts and rusty springs.
          Despite each blemish and each flaw,
          Some use for everything he saw;
          With things material, this was law.
          And often when he'd work to do,
          He searched the junk box through and through
          And found old stuff as good as new.
          And I have often thought since then,
          That father did the same with men;
          He knew he'd need their help again.
          It seems to me he understood
          That men, as well as iron and wood,
          May broken be and still be good.
          Despite the vices he'd display
          He never threw a man away,
          But kept him for another day.
          A human junk box is this earth
          And into it we're tossed at birth,
          To wait the day we'll be of worth.
          Though bent and twisted, weak of will,
          And full of flaws and lacking skill,
          Some service each can render still.

TATTOO MUSEUM-ANCIENT CULTURE.

The pain, the pain, the pain, Is worth the ornament we gain.  
Tattoo chanting,  while suffering  through the  procedure may not be necessary today since  tattooing isn’t nearly as painful as it once was. In ancient cultures, and in patriotic America, during wars,  suffering through a tattoo was a right of passage.  Madame Chinchilla,  queen of the Triangle Tattoo Museum, has done thousands of tattoos over a period of 25 years.  Madame and her partner Mr. G. are dedicated to preserving the rich heritage and ancient art of  tattoo,  and it is located right  here in Fort Bragg, California. How cool is that?

Madame goes through a spiritual ritual with most of her customers because committing to body art is a life changing step.  You know instantly that Madame is an artist.  Triangle Museum documents the  tantalizing results covering the walls of three rooms from floor to ceiling.  The designs are there, the people, the ancient culture, books, (three that Madame has written), and devices that deliver the ink. The devices fascinated me;  with ornately designed handles.

Pictures are not allowed in the museum except for the stairwell on the way in. Madame got started because she was close friends with Captain Don Leslie,  one of the last living circus side-showmen billed as the Tattooed Man. One wing of the museum features his personal memorabilia from 50 years of performing with the circus. Leslie was a fire-eater, sword-swallower as well. The word tattoo and from that, taboo,  are the only Polynesian words to be incorporated into the English language. A heavily decorated Maori Chief by the name of  Ta ‘taw was brought to the English courts during Queen Victoria’s reign. Ta’taw was soon shortened to tattoo. It became popular for men and women to get tatooed and flash them in the privacy of their parlors to entertain their guests. Queen Victoria, Winston Churchill, his parents and wife had tattoos. You could have knocked me over with a feather.

Jim and I got our tattoos the easy way. Should you visit?  Yes, yes, yes!  Fascinating. You can easily spend a couple of hours looking.
Tattoos are not exactly conventional, and we wandered around town, went to the Guest House Museum, poked around the shops, and Noyo Harbor, had lunch at the world-famous North Coast Brewery and enjoyed Imperial Rasputin Stout and Scrimshaw Ale with our chowder. A wonderful day with beautiful weather. But I ran into another unconventional character at the museum. His name was William Bennett, an engineer with the Union Lumber Company during the 1880′s.  He sent glowing reports to his fiance back east, with progress reports on the beautiful home he was building for her. When she arrived, she took one look around the muddy streets and overwhelmingly male town, and fled. So, William, 45 years old, and probably embarrassed after telling everyone his fiance was arriving;  with time and a lot of wood at hand, he carved his own life-sized wooden family. He claimed, a wooden family was less trouble than a real family anyway.  He built parents, five adult daughters, and eventually his own doll wife. He had dress makers outfit them. They could sit at the table when he had guests over. He did it tongue-in-cheek but others figured he took so much fun from his doll family, even putting his doll wife on wheels and dancing with her, that he was perhaps around the bend. Today, wouldn’t we love to have his wonderful artwork? But, he figured no one would take care of his doll family and before he died, he burned them. Dang.
The rest of my visit to Fort Bragg will have to wait for another blog.

INDEPENDENCE HALL QUILTERS OF ARNOLD, CALIFORNIA

This weekend past was the 33rd Annual Mountain Heirloom Quilt Faire put on by the Independence Hall Quilters of Arnold. In 1976, for the Bi-centennial Celebration, cities and counties across the nation were encouraged to choose projects representative of our colonial past to help celebrate the Bi-centennial. In Calaveras County, the most lasting tribute to that celebration is the Bicentennial Quilt made that year by about 12 women who quilted together at Independence Hall in Arnold.


 This amazing quilt was put together with thoughtful consideration for each community in the county, exemplifying the special attribute of that place in 18 blocks. Mark Twain is rendered writing his famous story of the Jumping Frog Of Calaveras County.

Old time firefighters from Mokelumne Hill.

 The famous bandit, Black Bart was jailed in San Andreas, the County Seat. The document is readable, it is so finely worked in thread.

 Because gold mining is part of our heritage, the blocks were sewn into a background of gold material. 

 The bald eagle of the United States flys above; the center of the quilt holds a Bear Republic Insignia and the Insignia of the County of Calaveras. All of this took permissions from the artist who designed the Insignia and from the county. What an undertaking; what a successful and beautiful endeavor. 

As I reminisced over the various blocks two people were attempting to find the five frogs on the quilt. Four of them are pretty easy, but the fifth one is difficult to find. Who thought to put a bit of mystery into the quilt?
The great part of this affair is that the Independence Hall Quilters formed their group and have become one of the top quilter's guilds in the nation. They have maintained, over those 33 years, a huge membership that hovers between 250 and 225. Like a family, they work together, socialize, learn new techniques, teach and revel in fabric art. 

Their Faire is as unique as they are. Quilts on display can never be repeated. Thus a conservative estimate of 3,300 quilts have been exhibited by countless numbers of quilters over the years. Also unique to this Faire is the antique "heritage" props the men and women of the group arrange to enhance the quilts displayed. There are male quilters, but these men are the husbands who have become involved in the undertaking along with their wives.

The couples enjoy a set-up party; with music and great food. They do the same in reverse as each year the quilts are taken down and their owners come to pick them up. Some come by UPS and are returned the same way.

 Besides the quilts and props and parties, the quilters sew a challenge quilt, a raffle quilt and provide multiple quilts for the Ronald McDonald House and Habitat for Humanity. They provide quilts for those in need locally as well. The money they earn from their Faire provides student scholarships. What a wonderful bunch of empowered women. And it all started with this quilt. 

SCIENCE DISCOVERY CENTER AND ETNIES

The cube is the clue that you are about to enter a very different place, the Science Discovery Center in Irvine. Kids and adults of all ages were challenged and entertained by the hands on exhibits, be it computerized earthquakes, radio broadcasting, playing virtual hockey or the science of flowing water. With three adults and three kids we each took a kid and went separate ways.

Theo practiced on the climbing wall. He attached appendages that represent ailerons to his arms and experienced the forces of wind in a wind tunnel. He lived through 3 major earthquakes in a shaking machine while watching video of Kobe, Japan, Lomo Prieta, California, and another major quake from Santiago, Chili.

His favorite activity was making a short movie with three plastic animals as the participants. I didn't count, but I'd guesstimate there were 80 to 100 hands-on encounters on two floors. What you didn't know amazes.
In the afternoon  a Science of Bubbles show, fascinating and entertaining, resembled magic. Who would have thought bubbles are studied for their scientific properties of value?

Later in the day, Owen was quite impressed that his younger cousin uses a skate board park. Austin is 7 and Owen is 10, a good reason to think he could try it.The beauty of this Etnie's Park is the management. Lessons are given, kids are watched and coached. They must wear protective gear and so on. Nicely done.

His lessons show to good advantage, back foot in maneuverable position, wide, strongly balanced stance. He is undaunted by deep bowls and up-hill runs and small jumps. He knows how to go over the side of a deep bowl.

  Owen, without ever a lesson, tackled hills and bowls as well, and learned gobs. Nicely done.

Theo enjoyed rolling down the grassy hill and playing about the grounds while we adults played Bananagrams at a table.
Montana parents told us that this Portola Hills Etnie's is considered the best skate board park in the world and folks come from all over to use it, which is why they brought their son. Quite an accolade.