TWO DISCOVERIES.

My time at home this last stretch, gave me little time for reading. When we left Yuma I picked up a meaty book I’d chosen over a year ago at a used book store. I read the cover overview and was intrigued enough to buy it, but every time I picked it up, the front cover and title were so vanilla, I could never quite tempt myself to dig in. This time, nothing in my book box appealed to me just then and I read line one:
In 1954, the summer before I entered third grade, my grandmother mistook Andrew Imhof for a girl.
I discovered an intensely pleasurable story that will stay with me a long time, as some books do.  The author wrote about a family similar to Laura and George W. Bush after reading biographies of them, a book about political figures but not about politics. About American values that clash with reality. Living rich and living poor. I devoured this book.


My second discovery was my night scene photos from the overlook. I’ve done this multiple times, taken a black sky picture, some even had a dot of a moon in them, but all black and uninteresting in the end. I tossed them each time wondering why this setting on my camera is there if it doesn’t work? I pulled all of my photos into picasa and decided to see what happened if I edited them and tried injecting a bit of light into them?


I’m not sure what is what in this photo but the lens captured something.

 

And this one, too. Maybe shooting stars? It was a different part of the sky when I aimed. Now, I’m sorry I threw out those photos that had partial images, but gratified I made this discovery.


We’ve settled into Palm Springs Thousand Trails, which is located in nearby Palm Desert. It is a beautiful park. This group is playing pickle ball, a mix of badminton and ping pong, playable on a short court.


I did a couple loads of wash while Jim fixed a leaky water pump and then we took our walk. Checked out the pickle court, the pool and hot tub. Read the bulletin of activities going on. We bought tickets to  play in Indio before I left Murphys.


Then we read the afternoon away. Ahh! I’m going to start another big meaty book I’ve put off. Another over 500 pages, Einstein, His Life And Universe by Walter Isaacson. In the credits, it seems everyone who knew him wrote a book about him. Jim really enjoyed this book and prompted me to read it. I’m ready.
This morning in my email, I received a note from Bob Sims, one of the committee members taking care of Salvation Mountain. Leonard Knight has been in a rest home near San Diego for 2 years. His health has been stable and has taken a turn for the worse. Leonard is such a sweet man. Bob suggested prayers may help.

MOON PARTY GIBBERISH.

Sunday night, I was invited to a moon watching party. My neighbor Jan loves things zany and fun. I showed up in my midnight sweater and yellow moon shirt, I intended to gossip and dish the dirt.

I told them they wouldn't be seeing the moon because I lassoed it and cooked it like a young spring loon.

Through the overcast, we didn't see a star, the moon was cooked or someplace far. But, Jan had a star tied to her fence;  I think we're both evil and must commence- a magic spell.

But, the night was early, we munched and ate dinner and played games for hours, when the hint was for a swim suit the answer was flowers. Becky was jubilant when she guessed one right.  She wanted my hat, but I said, "not without a fight."

I did take pictures of it; not meant for a queen, it is more on the style of a time machine.

A moon at midnight, takes timing and watches, (that's literally watches the hat holds seven.)

It's power was weak, it didn't influence heaven.

As the evening wore on, Cheryl opened her pouch.
An all-seeing crystal and rose, clear and smoky quartz. A geode of sky blue, magic was about.

Cheryl placed them strategically, a gateway to the moon.

Jan and I atoned for our evil sin. May the whole world let the light in..

...and find peace and love, everywhere. And, it works one person at a time, I know, I was there.
Happy Moonday!

WHAT I MISS ON THE ROAD.

Flowers are equivalent to stars, as beautiful but earthly. The heavy rains brought bounteous blossoms, and leaves, too. Like this strawberry. The blossoms tell of the delicious fruits I’ll miss. Yesterday, while pulling weeds, Karen and I got the last of the asparagus hiding  in the weeds.  We ate the spears raw while we rested.

Red valerian, easy to grow, any soil, pot or in the ground.

Iris blooms the size of softballs.

At one time I had about 50 different varieties. Not all bloom at the same time.

Two days ago, this azalea had zero blooms.

Spiraea, too, has larger flower heads than usual.

The only Rhododendron I have left after moving them away from an ancient oak that didn’t like the water during warm weather. The others didn’t survive, but the majestic oak will live on to shade another generation or two.  (Several oak species die a slow death if watered in the summer.)

The bleeding heart and lily of the valley, along with a few others sit potted beneath the oak. This is the first time since I’ve  been ramblin’ that I’ve seen my daffodils in full bloom, my lilacs, cyclamens, honey suckle  and other stars of the earth. I do miss my garden when I’m on the road.  I enjoy other people’s gardens and public gardens I’d never see from home. It’s a good mix of two lifestyles.

HOPING TO SEE A METEORITE

Yesterday acted like rain.  The sun poked through late in the day. I walked to a neighbor’s for an early dinner and a board game, RummiKub.  All the talk surrounded the van sized meteorite that broke the sound barrier with a loud boom, then split into three pieces and fell to earth in a smoking fireball.  It was visible from Lake Tahoe to Turlock.  It was strange, it didn’t feel like an earthquake, it was just LOUD. I was inside and didn’t see it when it happened at about 8:00 a.m.   Its been three days ago and people are still looking for pieces of it in their yards.

Before the event,  Karen’s cat did some strange machinations, pulling open my screen door and whisking into the house.  Cheyenne, my host’s dog, is very sensitive and barked at “nothing.”   She does tricks on demand. Brian places a piece of dog food on her nose and when given the signal, she tosses it in the air and catches it in her mouth. She loves it when she gets to catch hot dogs.

When I worked as a feature writer many years ago, I loved doing pieces on men who cooked. It seemed they were few and far between, then. Now, most men like to try their hand at something. Brian outdid himself, with an eggplant parmesan sauce for spaghetti, and a salad.

But, the molded butters blew me away. Men who cook rarely achieve such fancy perfection. It was a wonderful dinner and such a treat as I wind down my home projects and get ready to return to my other life in the Motor Home. Brian beat me at two games of RummiKub.

This frog plate was full of  hors d’oeuvres when I arrived. It was so beautiful I couldn’t resist putting it in my camera to take home. I walked home through a star filled night. It was so dark I could barely find my driveway, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. It is a treat to live where light doesn’t pollute the night skies. Besides,  I was hoping to see  a meteorite.

THAT TIME OF YEAR

My partner, the weather wimp, is basking in Palm Desert, and enjoying the warmth and sunshine as many people do. But fall and winter have their appeal.

The smell of burning brush, getting the yard cleaned up; the coolish, sometimes crispy weather feels good for a change.

Summer heat gets wearing and glaring. Enough is enough. Welcome fall with bold, colored leaves.  Cold starry nights to gaze upon those immutable orbs and wonder about the vast above. Tuck inside with hot soup simmering on the stove.

And, when you go to a meeting, as I did last night,, with the local Democrats Club,  you get dressed for a holiday party and get a small stocking full of treats by your plate.

And see folks dressed up like reindeer.
On the way home many houses already lit up declared Christmas is at hand. I listened to non-stop Carols on the radio. It puts you in a happy frame of mind and you recognize its that time of year when a bit of magic is in the air.  
They say the world will end in fire. Some say ice. If I had my drothers, I'd take the ice.

MILES TO GO BEFORE WE SLEEP, AND WE HAVE PROMISES TO KEEP.

I returned to Murphys and found 28 degree weather. It is unusual for me to make a public declaration about something so personal as choosing a Life Partner, Jim Jaillet. But what can you do when you meet a ramblin' man who prefers to park where the weather is warm, the stars are bright and the voice of a lone coyote his music?
I thought it fitting to review the poem Stop By A Woods On A Snowy Evening..."And miles to go before we sleep, and miles to go before we sleep."
As we assay our golden years; review life's conditions, and find that very rare gift of congenial and joyful partnership...Well then?
I make my pledge to our future together for "...no hand can make the clock strike for me the hours that are passed."And we have promises to keep!