WORK WEATHER

I had the privilege of designing my house, which was then built by my son, Doug, above. Everybody warned me don't build that balcony. It will leak. It did. Now comes the chore of redoing the flooring with a new acrylic product that is guaranteed for 15 years. Hmmm! I'll let you know in 15 years if it works. The weather cooperated and should be good for the next few days.

Jim finished small chores around the Motor Home including maintenance on the coach batteries which are charged by solar panels.
 For me, wading through magazines and paperwork is a continuous job. Election materials are a grand part. When I look at the billions, I mean billions of dollars spent on the parties trying to win this election, it makes me sick. I'm reminded of my blog from yesterday and thinking that fanatical candidates are all around us. Uncivil, divisive, name calling, dishonest, lies. Its ugly. Do any of them remember that divided we fail?

They argue about climate change and clean energy bills while China steps into the gap and becomes the world leader in clean energy with wind and solar panels.
They argue about the expense of rail and infrastructure and China rolls out major rail projects that give them a cost savings edge in getting product to market and people to jobs.
The new world leader is steam rolling while U.S. parties bicker and play to an audience. Its contentious, not civil debate. Its gridlock instead of progress. Its about power and control, not what is best for we the people.

WAR WILL ALWAYS BE WITH US

A couple blogs back, I started to sift through some favorite places I visited in our 16,000 mile trip. Cruising down memory lane I came to one place that stood out without any great pictures, and that was Fredericksburg, Texas where we visited the Pacific War Museum. Its coverage of World War Two was an experience in understanding, putting the war together in one place from battle to battle; much of it from the mouths of people who served. I don't approve of war as a way to solve problems, but it makes sense to understand war.

 World societies cannot be content to let others live their lives as they choose. There is always a leader who is a power monger, or greedy. Or, like as not, a religious zealot who knows best how the rest of us should live our lives.
I received an article from my friend Randy Vining that presented the view of Dr. Emanuel Tamay, an eminent psychiatrist. The article-shortened- follows with his tangent points:

A man, whose family was German aristocracy prior to World War II, owned a number of large industries and estates. When asked how many German people were true Nazis, the answer he gave can guide our attitude toward fanaticism. 'Very few people were true Nazis,' he said, 'but many enjoyed the return of German pride, and many more were too busy to care. I was one of those who just thought the Nazis were a bunch of fools. So, the majority just sat back and let it all happen. Then, before we knew it, they owned us, and we had lost control, and the end of the world had come. My family lost everything. I ended up in a concentration camp and the Allies destroyed my factories.'          Communist Russia was comprised of Russians who just wanted to live in peace, yet the Russian Communists were responsible for the murder of about 20 million people. The peaceful majority were irrelevant.  China 's huge population was peaceful as well, but Chinese Communists managed to kill a staggering 70 million people.  The average Japanese individual prior to World War II was not a warmongering sadist. Yet, Japan murdered and slaughtered its way across South East Asia in an orgy of killing that included the systematic murder of 12 million Chinese civilians; most killed by sword, shovel, and bayonet.  And who can forget Rwanda , which collapsed into butchery. Could it not be said that the majority of Rwandans were 'peace loving'?  History lessons are often incredibly simple and blunt, yet for all our powers of reason, we often miss the most basic and uncomplicated of points: Peace-loving Muslims have been made irrelevant by their silence. Peace-loving Muslims will become our enemy if they don't speak up, because like my friend from Germany , they will awaken one day and find that the fanatics own them, and the end of their world will have begun. Peace-loving Germans, Japanese, Chinese, Russians, Rwandans, Serbs, Afghans, Iraqis, Palestinians, Somalis, Nigerians, Algerians, and many others have died because the peaceful majority did not speak up until it was too late. As for us who watch it all unfold, we must pay attention to the only group that counts--the fanatics who threaten our way of life.  The fact is that the fanatics rule Islam at this moment in history. It is the fanatics who march. It is the fanatics who wage any one of 50 shooting wars worldwide. It is the fanatics who systematically slaughter Christian or tribal groups throughout Africa and are gradually taking over the entire continent in an Islamic wave. It is the fanatics who bomb, behead, murder, or honour-kill. It is the fanatics who take over mosque after mosque. It is the fanatics who zealously spread the stoning and hanging of rape victims and homosexuals. It is the fanatics who teach their young to kill and to become suicide bombers.    Emanuel Tanay, M.D. 2980 Provincial St. Ann Arbor , MI 48104  Food for thought. Randy Vining blogs at: mobilecodgers.blogspot.com

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THE MOST IMPORTANT THINGS

Yesterday morning about 6 a.m., Jim was reading about a  tornado blowing 57 rail cars off the tracks when a horrific crashing sound startled both of us into jumping up and running for cover. We thought it was an earthquake. A cupboard in my dining room, an overladen shelf, apparently, sheared the supports on one side, and gave way. My bone china dishes came crashing to the floor. Two major losses, my grandmother's crystal bowl and a crystal butter dish. Broken handles, chipped plates,...well, it was bad, but it could have been worse. The taste of Thanksgiving dinner will not be affected. There was a time when I enjoyed setting a beautiful table with everything matching, just so. I've been known to become very attached to favorite things. My cousin Marge Rowe gave me a sign and hung it in my kitchen that has numerous times given me pause.

I remember telling my kids when they were half grown, never cry for anything that can't cry for you.
The good sweet earth sustains us, family & friends. Love & happiness & good health are treasures. And I'm grateful for that sign. It helps remind me to put things in perspective.

 As the day warmed, Jim got out and finished washing the motor home. We gave it a hose-over wash on the road, can't remember the town.  Then a major cleaning in Connecticut, inside and out. Now its second major cleaning yesterday with over 16,000 miles of road time. We have yet to tackle the inside except for doing the laundry. Life is good.

CELEBRATIONS ARE AS INDIVIDUAL AS THE PARTICIPANTS

Some people just can't allow a birthday to pass without getting in their licks. That would be my neighbor, Jan Stewart. She's always been a rabble rouser. What is a person to do when you'd prefer to let 70 pass quietly under the radar? Or even better, turn it back to 69 for awhile longer.
It was just a simple- "come on over for dinner" invitation among neighbors. My birthday was days ago.

And my neighbor and house-sitter, Karen, is just as bad. She brought me a bouquet of roses and baked me my favorite dessert, home made apple pie.

  At Jan's, the table was set for she and Jerry, Jim and I and Karen with one space for Karen's blind date.

A talking head.

With mic in hand, Jim spoke through the head and gave it some salacious dialogue. Talking heads at Jan's? Nothing surprising there,  so, I still think this is just a crazy-like-Jan dinner.

 Then they haul out the birthday stuff, cards and presents like Cheap Slut hand soap, body finger paint that glows in the dark, (which we immediately had to test. It glows.) Some questionable candy and other stuff came out of the package they presented to me. Plus a delightful cake. There is no slipping under the radar with Jan in the neighborhood.

Now I get to spill the beans. Jan is a Wiccan and that is NOT mistletoe she and Jerry are testing. Its oregano, and I have no idea what that means. But I do know, we always have fun at Jan's.

ITS A CHEMICAL WORLD

Oh, what a tangled web we weave. The Environmental Protection Agency people,  who attempt to sort out all the nasty chemicals and approve or disapprove of them, weigh stuff like:
Should household cleaning products that we use on our clothing, counter tops, cars, driveways, have to reveal what chemicals are in the products we use?  No.
However, New York is the first state to require manufacturers to reveal them. Go New York!  It would be nice to have a clean and healthy home without risk from known problems for some people  like asthma and reproductive defects.

Or how about this one, should EPA allow researchers to dose people with poisonous pesticides and study the effects?  Can they pay people to drink, eat and enter vaporous chambers and see what happens? Apparently, yes. Yes? They even tested on pregnant women and children. Well, they've been sued and have to stop that awful practice.

California's San Joaquin Valley is the most polluted air basin in the United States. My son lives there. After multiple suits against the EPA, they've been forced to enforce the Clean Air Act requirements just this past June. 1,000 people each year die from air-pollution maladies. 

Well, the EPA did ban the pesticide chlorpyrifos from being used in homes and gardens. It's a World War II era chemical for warfare. It causes blurred vision, headaches, chest tightness, coughing, wheezing, nausea, vomiting, low birth weights. Studies have not been exhaustive.  But, 8 to 10 million pounds of the nerve gas pesticide is still used each year by farms across the country, infiltrating food and water supplies, endangering salmon along with diazinon,and malathion. I guess it depends on who we think should be endangered, home owners no, but farm workers yes. And, just those who inadvertently ingest the stuff in their food not knowing what they are eating. Salmon is supposed to be a healthy food choice.  I would like wild salmon to rebound in our rivers.

And the EPA is thinking about banning a highly toxic chemical used on pear orchards, potato, tomato and lettuce fields called Endosulfan because the stuff travels long distances, like the Arctic, Sierra Nevada lakes, Mount Everest. They find it in the air around schools and they know it causes reproductive deformities and it increases autism in exposed fetuses. That is, now that they are being sued they are thinking about banning it.

Truth be told, there are hundreds of thousands of chemicals awash on our food and products that have never been tested. Its even worse in other countries. The non profit organization, Earthjustice, is attempting to hold the  EPA to its standards of protection. Chemical deduction is kind of like reading a horror story. When I'm on the road, I don't worry about these things as much. But, they don't go away. A new nasty chemical pops up out of some manufacturing lab every year. Maybe every week.  And people wonder why breast cancer, birth defects, asthma and autism are on the rise.

I may be old fashioned but I think I should be able to breathe air not fouled by someone's chemicals. Isn't there an industrial code that says Do No Harm?  Apparently not. And isn't the EPA supposed to protect us, the consumers? Apparently not.

It may benefit you to know that Earthjustice, the non-profit group, is located at 426 Seventeenth St., Sixth Floor, Oakland, CA. 94612.

PRINTERS AND BLACKSMITHS, PEOPLE YOU MEET

Paul Quyle, left, brought his printer friend, Mark, from Campbell, CA. as his guest to meet us last night while we hashed over some CCTV business. Mark is a modern printer and Paul has a printing press from 1899. Paul gathered his type set and molds and showed how it was done in three videos. One of the videos can be seen on the link below, the next two will follow on the same website.

http://tinyurl.com/24p6jub 

 Paul is a fascinating person from so many angles its hard to choose one. He is a blacksmith, a master potter, printer, and retired teacher. 

He studied Marine Biology, art, he took welding classes, saddle making, veterinary medicine. He has a woodworking shop, orchards and gardens.
He entered the printing trade from necessity, to print labels for his clay business instead of tediously hand stamping them. Now, he is a master printer and  has over 120 printers in his collection. But, the 1899 press, one of only 12 in the world, rarely gets used.
Paul, at 82, remembers the days when trade secrets were jealously guarded. If he couldn't get into a guild, he'd figure out how to do the task himself, whether it was printing, making clay that didn't explode, building a house or a kiln, he would do it. You forge something, fix something, make your own tools, a philosophy that today seems arcane in a throw-away, assembly line style of doing things. Self sufficiency is as ancient as the rocks where passing on skills to the next generation is the natural order of things. It works for the Quyles where a new generation of family artisans now run the ranch,  a winery, the pottery and continue what Paul started while he still plays with printing and blacksmithing.

 People drop in all the time to see the works on Highway 4, just above Murphys, along with the pottery, paintings, glass work, and wine tasting from Bryce Station Winery.

Here students of Paul's work in his blacksmith shop.

PEOPLE KEEP REMINDING ME

I've spent the last couple days catching up on some badly needed cleaning, like window washing and yardwork. But, family and friends keep reminding me its my birthday. E-cards, Facebook greetings, a delightful rap from grandsons, Owen and Theo, with about 70 ways to say and spell and write 70;  A call from the youngest grandson, Austin before he headed off to school; a hep best wishes from one headed off to college, hey! There are benefits to being an old bag. My computer got robbed of its mechanics yesterday and I'm really happy that its fixed and that I can get on it and make it work. Definitely makes for a happy birthday. But, I've had a happy year and thought I'd look back at some of the favorite places I've been this past year. I left home in January, 2010.

I met long time friend Sandee Voges at Biosphere in Tuscon, Arizona in January. A very unusual and fascinating place to visit.
Chiracahua National Monument was one of my favorite places in Arizona as well.

Jim Jones In Luckenbach, Texas sang a song about his lost love by the name of Mary. He dedicated it to me when he found out my name. An unusual, off the beaten path kind of place. Homey and wonderful, also unforgettable.

 

 One of the worlds most fun places, Fred's Bar in Mamou, Louisiana. Jim and I shared a dish of gumbo made by a couple of volunteers out behind the bar.

Mardi Gras was an unforgettable, exciting experience. I still have the beads collected there as part of the curtains on the motor home.

The cold, cold boat ride to Pilot Town. That place, destroyed by Katrina, still haunts me, especially now with the spill in the gulf.
I began to sift through pictures and so many memories of the good times came flooding in and I realized I couldn't continue because there were so many wonderful places and experiences, I just can't put them in one blog. I never expected to be a gypsy in my golden years, but I highly recommend it.

MURPHYS GRAPE STOMP

I knew Murphys annual Grape Stomp was the best, especially after attending one in Clinton, Indiana where they have a great Italian Heritage. Nothing beats this scene. The teams take it seriously, often competing year after year. Some, like the two beauties above, devise "winey" costumes.

For the elimination finals, the last heat of the day, the barrels are filled with 35 pounds of wine grapes.

The two person teams line up. One person stands below the barrel until the MC instructs, "turn over your bucket." The other person stands above the barrel until the signal to stomp is given.

Teams have three minutes to crush their grapes and get the juice into the bucket. Stompers can wear shoes or go bare footed, their choice. The collector uses his/her hands to squish the juice through the spout as quickly as possible.

The pace is fast and furious.

Everyone is enjoying the experience. The audience as much as the participants.

Things can get pretty juicy. This collector was pushing the mush around so forcefully, he was completely spattered with juice and fruit bits.

 And, to top it all off, the "Three M's" found each other and had a short reunion after my 7 months on the road, and Michal, (middle) spent 6 months in Mexico. Madalaine spent the year campaigning for her election as Clerk/Recorder. Both were working the silent auction for the stomp.

 

The Grape Stomp is an annual event. The stompers take up the Murphys Park. The wine flows, the auction is fun and the food is yummy.  The street is filled with crafts booths and good food.  Don't miss it next year.
For more pictures of grape stomp, click the link:
http://picasaweb.google.com/1579penn/10210Grapestomp#

SIGNS OF THE TIMES

There's a lot of bull going around and that other stuff piled high and deep that goes with it. I'm finding an election year is a real turn-off. I just don't want to hear anymore crap, nor any more pleas for money. Our election process and the money in elections is way out of control, especially when government isn't working up to their own promises and laws aren't enforced. Don't you wish we could fire them all and start over with a fair and level playing field?

My current gripe is costly government failures regarding the ghastly oil spill in the gulf.   I'm mad as hell that Interior Secretary Salazar failed to require the necessary and in place environmental reviews before issuing permits for drilling. I''m mad that permits are still being issued and it takes a citizen's group to sue Salazar and Minerals Management Serivice to stop drilling projects already exempted from environmental review. How dare they?

Then, during the clean-up, BP used previously failed methods to attack the spill. They used toxic dispersants that they, nor the Environmental Protection Agency, have never tested for how much harm they can do to humans, our food chain and ocean plants and animals. They had NO plan for how to handle a spill. They spent NO money on new technology for cleaning up a spill since the last, similar disastrous spill. They spent a lot of money on how to drill deeper and cheaper and get more oil out of the ground. Then, BP immediately challenged Obama's deep-water oil-drilling moratorium. They've burned endangered sea turtles alive in a messy clean-up effort. Because conservation partners and fishermen promised a lawsuit, BP agreed  to ensure sea turtle rescue before lighting the fires.

Interior Secretary Salazaar refused to turn over documentation of his interactions with the oil industry lobbyists since becoming secretary of the Interior. He should be fired forthwith and made to pony up.

Various states we traveled through, have very serious consequences for endangering others.
Hit A Worker
$10,000 Fine
Lose Your License


 Maybe BP should lose their license to drill along with their fine.
  

Speeding Maximum Fine $1,000
Reckless Driving
Eight Years

We don't tolerate reckless driving.  Maybe BP executives should go to jail for reckless endangerment of lives. How about  20 years without possibility of parole?

 BP, I read is going to be levied a 19 Billion dollar fine. At the very least, along with the fine, there should be   a stipulation, double for second offense. Then maybe they would engineer some safety procedures that work. And, all of the executives at BP should have to do 30 days in jail, just for a little taste of what its like. Give them a little second thought allowance for when they make their next decision placing money over people safety. And then a minimum of 1000 hours each, public service in the area they destroyed. Could be a life changing experience.

 Sigh....if I ruled the world...

INSPIRATION COMES IN MANY GUISES

 

Last April, I visited with Victoria and Mel Small of Murphys. The Smalls followed a dream of walking across the United States-at ages 59 and 61, a distance of 1,500 miles. That was in 1983. I was so inspired by them, I wanted to write a book on their marvelous trip across the United States. At the time I was a feature writer for a local paper and did a couple of local stories on them. With their approval, I wrote three chapters of a book and a synopsis and sent it off to publishers. In those days, it was considered the death of your proposal if you sent to more than one publisher at a time.  So, it was a long process over a period of months, send and wait, send and wait for an answer. The noes came in,  "we've done that before..." "what is different about this trip..." "that's already been done.." "we don't have room for a true life adventure this year..."  etc. etc.
 
 Victoria is now 90, and Mel is 88. They were still running 4 miles a day at ages 84 and 82. Than they gave in to walking around the neighborhood. More importantly, they've decided to put their many walking and running adventures into a book. Last April, I suggested they get the journals typed and yesterday, I edited their first manuscript. They insisted that my name should be on the cover and my three chapters included because I inspired THEM.

As I re-read their amazing trip across the United States, and I must tell you, not all things turn out as planned, I was moved to laughter and tears once again.
Tears as Victoria, who was a 95 pound wisp of a woman, ran a marathon with a stone bruise on her foot and won in her age category. And rollicking laughter as Mel, who always trailed pace setter Victoria, picked up a pair of kids handcuffs he had found and put them on. Then, he couldn't get out of them and tried to hide it from her. What a hoot!
 One really fun thing about the journals, besides little drawings and maps of Mel's, he kept statistics, and a potpourri page at the end of a specific goal with listings of how many pennies, dimes, quarters, etc. they found; any other oddment they picked up, how many truckers blew their horn, how many waved, how many offers they got for a ride and so on. But, the funniest category was how many cars were left running and unattended?  A good thief could have been rich.
I was enriched once more by my time spent with an amazing couple who can continue to inspire me and others with their book.