I'VE BEEN EVERYWHERE, MAN...

I received a message from Jerry  at http://overthetopcargotrailer.blogspot.com 
about the song I’ve Been Everywhere.


He sent me to a web page where there are parodies and take-offs on that song by  different artists.  I listened to a slew of them.  They were pretty cool.  Click on the links to hear some I got a kick out of.
The first is I’ve Been Everywhere , Texas.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DaTJxS_mu8c&feature=related

This link is:  I’ve Been Everywhere, Austrailia
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-UAh7ogwAYQ&feature=related

Now we have a Johnny Cash parody:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-UAh7ogwAYQ&feature=related
The next one is:  I’ve Been Everywhere, Minnesota. I think. It has some clever, corny stuff like I ate corn dogs at the fair, man, …in my underwear, man.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BynH5WYdX2A&feature=related
After I  identified five to put into this blog , swish, the sneaky electronic Genie has tossed one of them into cyberspace, so I’m hoping that the four I have left  are identified correctly.
When I mentioned the song two days ago,  I was talking about my partner, Jim. And,  just to give you an idea of why it fits,  he has crossed the United States 6 times in his Motor Home. He has been in every state of the union. Plus, he took his rig 17,000 miles across Mexico, through every country in Central America and to the Panama Canal and beyond, (until the road stopped.)  Then, of course, he returned those same, many miles back to the States. He’s traveled all over Canada as well.  (South America is still on the agenda.)

Yesterday was a pick up and move, empty tanks, fill up with water, get gas and propane, find the recycle place,  shop for groceries…that  kind of day. We bought two sets of sheets and replaced the butter-soft thin ones we had. I spotted a Burlington Coat Outlet and got a white jacket to replace my warn one.  We’ve been everywhere, man- in Yuma!

The frig is full and we are parked in a weedy little town at a VFW with a huge membership. The bartender told us they serve around 400 hamburgers on Mondays. Tuesday was women’s dart competition and men’s pool tournament. They are open and busy seven days a week. We had a drink and left early because they allow members to smoke in the bar. Nobody was smoking at the time, but we both came out with our hair and clothing stinking  like old cigarette smoke.
The move put us closer to our destination, the Petroglyphs.

TWENTY-EIGHT MILE GARAGE SALE

It's the weather. It can make or break your garage sale. Washingtonians take rain in stride. The sale was smaller than advertised, it rained off and on all day, with more of the same scheduled for today, the last day. Many of the vendors had their goods in tents, or inside of their garages. Some suffered with sodden goods half covered by tarps. Everyone was cheerful. The numbers and letters above, beautifully handcrafted, would look great at my place for only a buck twenty-five each. Smaller versions were fifty cents, not that I wanted to haul it around in a motor home until I return, though.

Normally, I avoid garage sales because I already own a garage full of "stuff" I don't need.  We were looking for a cast iron omelette pan since I'm determined to give up those coated pans that make cooking so easy but release horrible chemicals into your food. Sometimes I think, I'm already ancient, so what?  These sales tease me to look for eccentric, fascinating, unheard of, items I've never encountered before. Make my day, I say. I've seen beautiful decoys, hand crafted. Collectors love them. This cheap rubber flyer can cleverly fool a duck. Cheating, unsportsmanlike.  I felt the same way about decoys when I was just a little girl and hated it when my dad hunted birds. The feeling is still there.

 Ahh, something beautiful and indigenous to the area. Small cranberry vine woven baskets with oyster shell, apple wood and sand dollar bottoms. Hard work; beautiful; worth the $15 I paid for one. A  reasonable fit in the Motor Home. .

Nobody uses old doilies any more. This woman was loading them onto a curtain rod for a valance over her kitchen window. A great recycler.

This vendor had hundreds of scarves at fifty cents, a dollar, larger ones for two and three bucks. She demonstrated package wrapping with them. A clever idea, beautiful, and cheaper than wrapping paper.

This guy, it turned out, wasn't selling old buoys. He just collects them as a yard decoration.  Hey,whatever floats your boat!
I enjoyed poking around town for a couple of hours dodging raindrops. Didn't find a cast iron omelette pan. Next time!

ON BECOMING A BLOGAMATIC

At one time I worked as a feature writer/journalist, took decent pictures of people and events of interest and enjoyed it very much, plus,  I got paid for it. Now I call myself a "blogamatic". I photograph everything I do as though the whole world might be interested in my road trip from Mendocino County to Alameda County, the sculpture I saw at the Solar Living Center in Hopland, or that I had lunch at Mimi's in Dublin. I blame and thank my partner, Jimmy the Rat,  for my addiction to blogging. Life is more fun this way, and I tend to keep in touch with people more than I used to.

I've visited the Solar Living Center several times in the past though I didn't stop this time.  Finding an artistic use for rusty metal  makes an eye-catching attraction on Highway 101 at Hopland. . If you've never gone, the center has fascinating features, including prescription bottle bathroom doors, trees growing through cars, a solar fountain that kids can operate, a straw bale building which uses no air conditioning or heating to keep the temperature comfortable. Its all about sustainability, positioning, the sun and breezes. A solar power plant, electric vehicle recharging stations, sewage treatment, natural fertilizers, all organic fruits and vegetables... the whole place is fascinating. Classes in solar installation and other sustainable practices are available. Visitors are always welcome, just drive in. You will never look at the earth in quite the same way.

My friends are a core part of my life. Joan Dailey is just a face to you but to me she is a great mother, grandmother, teacher, and friend. We trade book titles so fast and furiously, I'll probably never get to read them all.  We fondly share memories of raising kids together. Joan is a cancer survivor and taught me about her appreciation and changed perspective on life after cancer. I hadn't seen Joan in five years when we went off to see a male strip show in Tahoe, totally out of character for Joan. I guess I was always the wild one.

Faye Gebo, my high school buddy and her wonderful partner, Dave Goodwin,  always welcome me for a nights stay when I'm in the Bay Area. Faye and I lived in the same apartment complex after marriage; we bought houses in the same neighborhood until the military caused our paths to diverge. Dave and I discuss how to make the world a better place as we harangue the banks that borrow money from the Federal Reserve at one-half a percent then buy treasury bonds at 3 percent with OUR money, instead of providing loans to consumers with it.  We learn from each other about dealing with aging parents and the task of becoming the older generation.  Can we reduce lifes inconsequentials, our addiction to materialism  and make our time count? Friends are stimulating.

I left the archive to have lunch with my cousin, Terri Cardoza who is a best friend as well as a cousin. She is, always helping others, neighbors, former in-laws, me, you name it. She volunteers for animal rescue and has taken in, surgically altered, and fed innumerable strays. She taught me that stray cats are territorial. You can't adopt them all but you can alter them;  they keep and defend their territory preventing new strays from coming in. It provides a more stable population with less disease and less litters in your own neighborhood.

Life is so full of a number of things, I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings. .

HOSA RECYCLES

Its not too often you find a small plastic container with a cardboard identifier that is recyclable. HOSA is an American company out of Buena Park, California that sells cables and plugs and jacks and stuff electronic on-line. My appreciation is expanded when I find a corporation that is willing to do things in an earth friendly way. I'll make sure and use them the next time I need a cable and I hope you consider doing the same.
Its just a small thing but our generation was raised on the adage-every little bit helps!

PLASTIC BAGS AND TURNING JIM GREEN, YAH!!

Mary the environmentalist is a strong, incurable greenie. I recycle and complain if other's don't. So, I haul out my mesh bag and the grocers here in Yuma look at me as though I'm a strange critter. I reuse and carry plastic bags so they get a second go around. Jim keeps counting his plastic bag stash under the refrigerator (10,000 of them I"M sure.) "We're gonna run out of garbage bags, he fears." HAH! Now places to recycle in Yuma are not very plentiful. So, I called the Chamber, the Visitors Bureau and the Solid Waste Dept. and lo, they DO recycle here. And, I asked about gleaning and much to my surprise, they glean here in Yuma, too. Oh, now I'm happy! Jim says, we better get over to recycling pretty soon or I won't be able to see out the back window. He has to get greener. The recycle bag is getting so full it is blocking his vision. (chortle) I've taken over his refrigerator until he doesn't recognize it. Now all the space in the Bronco. And this morning I declared that I would be carrying a plastic bag with me on the bike to pick up cans that people throw out. Ohhhhh! Groan-
Poor Jim. He doesn't have a clue what's in store for him. He doesn't know about my hobby of collecting photos of art work including benches.
Oh joy!