tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2277659898148097232024-02-18T21:08:29.102-08:00Denvy and GailDenvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.comBlogger210125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-54217902057673671482023-11-07T21:56:00.002-08:002023-11-07T21:56:30.363-08:00It's time - again<p><span style="font-size: large;">A</span> couple months ago I had an idea. I've been researching and consolidating data and information about our ancestors, our families' history and the times andplaces in which they lived for several decades now. I remember making lists of names and dates of my mother's cousins - she had over a hundred first cousins - while still in Alaska - that would be before 1992. Since then I have found more time to research and consolidate through writing, there is so much more information available in websites online, and my interest is spiked through travel, visiting places which are a part of our history and interacting with others who research and write family histories.</p><p>Putting together a book I have found to be a daunting challenge, a challenge I enjoy so much, but I need to find another way of way of expressing my joys and findings, a way that may not require as much uniformity but can be more scattered and spontaneous. The idea was daily essays.</p><p>I chose to share the daily writings on October first, the first day of a water year, a year that reaches from the first of October to the end of September, a year that defining the collection and recording of information about water such as a streamflow and rain. This is the year that I worked with while I was an employee of the US Geological Survey-Water Resources Division.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja6FBDQmT3_rai5kGMBH_BnAEPg34cC7qgH1zbFrzLb_WRKp8lxRknUZhWfffr-3Dgnu7f1a4ZQN0zzINp4qUhXlApdzdOcq2jUkuDNWQago2Elol3aAqK3pgKXZ9Jze8WuyNVK24NkMeX_ZFyrWOAiDQ9k-nV4BYC01Gpy76FnDd_aN7pNR81vsaX7ss/s350/right2write.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="350" data-original-width="230" height="116" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja6FBDQmT3_rai5kGMBH_BnAEPg34cC7qgH1zbFrzLb_WRKp8lxRknUZhWfffr-3Dgnu7f1a4ZQN0zzINp4qUhXlApdzdOcq2jUkuDNWQago2Elol3aAqK3pgKXZ9Jze8WuyNVK24NkMeX_ZFyrWOAiDQ9k-nV4BYC01Gpy76FnDd_aN7pNR81vsaX7ss/w76-h116/right2write.png" width="76" /></a></div><br />So I wrote several essays in preparation of October first. My idea was taking shape. And then it happened. October first came and went and the essays stayed on my computer. The idea slipped and needed new energy and probable modification. Now it's a week into November and I'm taking the advice of an author, Julia Cameron, who says (paraphrased), "Just write."<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDB3qigXib7N_nw6G6pcxxBH8ioEYDsUc5ZoQnrJMURqimwgkgeSzRx94L12RU9V8FP8DE6AncJAHaKqNsbOg4P8rolmYch1sB6f5ovXRvHTLkXt_Y5azqe1JpMDY88f39UZ31mKudlGcPN7aUAdWcZU6VmyXFXmvmdfmuUIwxMBhmGTsBLLf7rBW13Q8/s1087/sheinelle.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1076" data-original-width="1087" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDB3qigXib7N_nw6G6pcxxBH8ioEYDsUc5ZoQnrJMURqimwgkgeSzRx94L12RU9V8FP8DE6AncJAHaKqNsbOg4P8rolmYch1sB6f5ovXRvHTLkXt_Y5azqe1JpMDY88f39UZ31mKudlGcPN7aUAdWcZU6VmyXFXmvmdfmuUIwxMBhmGTsBLLf7rBW13Q8/w200-h199/sheinelle.png" width="200" /></a></div>Sheinelle Jones of the Today morning show on NBC ran the New York marathon this past weekend. She said that it's didn't feel like a reality until she announced on the air that she was going to run the marathon. This is my announcement that I will make routine entries in this blog. I don't plan to win the marathon, only complete it. Please bear with me and check in periodically.<p></p><p><br /></p><p></p><br />Here's what I wrote formy intended ideal first day:<br /><p><b>Water Year - One – A Yearly Start </b></p><p>The start of each year is arbitrary, and pontiffs of the calendar know that. Ask anyone, especially of European descent; they will say: “The year starts on January first.” Of course, if one revisits and analyzes the names of the months of the European calendar, you will note that September, October, November and December imply a seventh, eighth, ninth and tenth month which goes on to imply that March is the first month of the year. Really?</p><p>In the realm of finance one might note that January first, October first or July first each could be the beginning of a financial year. The US government needs to get its budget complete by October first, more or less. At the US Geological Survey we had to close the books on June 30th. I have to pay my taxes based on financial activities by the end of December 31st. </p><p>When asked how much rain you got in a year the answer is typically given from October to September. This is typically the water year. What was the highest stage of the river this year? A hydrologist would answer as if the year started on October first and ended a year later. </p><p> Now determining the end of the year is much simpler; it’s when the sun and earth align the same as when that year started. Another way of saying that is that the year is complete when the earth makes a complete revolution around the sun. So the end of a year is dependent on the beginning. Astronomically the year is a bit more that 365 earth days, each day being represented by a sunrise and sunset. If one were observing the rotations of the earth from the North Star, or any other star for that matter, one would count about 366¼ rotations. It’s complex, even more complex than what has been eluded to here, but as humans we have no control over how often the earth rotates before if returns to the same position relative to the sun. </p><p> So be it. </p><p> That leaves the question as to when one might start a new habitat or activity. Actually the answer is any time, it’s arbitrary. There is a preponderance to start new year resolutions on January first. I thought I would attempt to start this blog consistent with the water year: October first. Being that it’s well into October, I can safely say that I did not succeed with that intention. </p><p>There is no great urgency or requirement for me to start a blog at this point is life. Mostly it’s my urgency; it’s my desire to record my thoughts. And to share them on the basis that someone may actually be interested, like how long a year is from the point of view of an earth-bound human or a star-bound alien, or when humans have arbitrarily determined when a year should start and end, or when the laws of the universe define when the year is complete. </p><p>As a retired mathematician, toymaker, college-instructor I’m working very hard to be that – retired. I try to not make a list of things to do; this blog idea be counter to that objective. Most days are filled with a morning routine and a step out the front door at which time a list of things-to-do creates itself. I will use the same approach to topics for this blog. Today you were exposed to the start of a new year, a new habit and an explanation of measuring a year.
</p><p>Join me. Just write. Just enjoy.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-4037062566433183402022-05-18T12:12:00.001-07:002022-05-18T12:12:20.145-07:00The Finale is Just the Beginning<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT4scGS6R72I9dP0bJlh9zgmpbjuMOuuSNzAQ17rr0MPhYEGTvMUKksX5JRoPkd0eIJ-A6g3cARIqghp9UbSkQJYPk9-zJcHOQ2zPYV_qKWajAt7tSUdlO_X5ehoEqj0a14eNnvE00RPHz2UO4sAvgRwTPzs41ODzKkT5DLZ25Rj_mtgFtINl4jMlu/s4800/22trippath.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2984" data-original-width="4800" height="336" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT4scGS6R72I9dP0bJlh9zgmpbjuMOuuSNzAQ17rr0MPhYEGTvMUKksX5JRoPkd0eIJ-A6g3cARIqghp9UbSkQJYPk9-zJcHOQ2zPYV_qKWajAt7tSUdlO_X5ehoEqj0a14eNnvE00RPHz2UO4sAvgRwTPzs41ODzKkT5DLZ25Rj_mtgFtINl4jMlu/w541-h336/22trippath.png" width="541" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I would say "we're home" except as they say "home is where the heart is" and we've been home these past two months even though we were in different places. More accurately, and probably philosophically more pragmatic, we're back where the grass needs to be mowed and the weeds pulled. And there are dozens of appointments and engagements to be met.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In short, this was trip was everything we hoped for and more. Our visits were uplifting and inspiring, filling our hearts and minds with wealth. We drove just short of 15,000 miles, visited with about 150 individuals not including clerks, cashiers and other service oriented persons, and passed through 39 states in sixty-one days.. Regrettably we missed many friends and family for a variety of reasons such as we've seen them recently, we see them routinely, we will see them in the near future, we ran out of time or energy, we didn't make adequate contact, or our timing was off as the persons we were to visit were out of town.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The weather varied from a couple days in the 90's in Arizona and many other days when the morning temperatures dipped below freezing. Fortunately the heater in the van worked well once we figured out how to use it we were quite comfortable. There was a bit of rain but mostly storm clouds and almost constant wind.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Now we are mowing, gardening, quilting and crocheting, reconnecting with tasks and friends in Oregon and looking forward to the next adventure which probably won't involve so much driving. New energy levels require new tasks. We'll wait and see what's next. For now blogging is on hiatus.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">PS - There's an awesome camper van, aka coverage wagon, available for purchase. It's comfortable, quite carefree and great for a traveling couple.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><br /> <p></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-48670484583003619852022-05-15T07:09:00.000-07:002022-05-15T07:09:25.478-07:00It's Time<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSmt1u_DsIMOO1pVNLBafPnutPXKO5a56lakR62BzFHdRObMJ-fsPx7d4xuUdAJKy5Jj-KYJ-BJCFeBU1oRQU4eKBnhGxgJd7TDrPAJ0SII-V9Dwoh-6hLzb2oSEu7ITXq2qXEKaI8zoScgj_YXd4u7QCTyN2Jp6cQ2KdHDWea2NohZ83zQw-zc5jR/s1000/thankyou.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSmt1u_DsIMOO1pVNLBafPnutPXKO5a56lakR62BzFHdRObMJ-fsPx7d4xuUdAJKy5Jj-KYJ-BJCFeBU1oRQU4eKBnhGxgJd7TDrPAJ0SII-V9Dwoh-6hLzb2oSEu7ITXq2qXEKaI8zoScgj_YXd4u7QCTyN2Jp6cQ2KdHDWea2NohZ83zQw-zc5jR/w632-h298/thankyou.png" width="632" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It's time!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Yes, it's time that we express our appreciation to everyone and for everyone that is making this adventure so meaningful. As we approach the final days of this moment in time, we feel this overwhelming gratitude to all who made it possible.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">There's no one in particular to whom we owe the greatest gratitude so the order with which we write this is random.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">There are those whom we see on our security camera as they come to check on the house and water the plants. These folks make us feel secure about what earthly possessions we left behind. Thank you. We look forward to returning to the beginning and end of this adventure.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">One of the reasons for this trip, the initial and primary reason, is to visit family and friends. That we have done, unfortunately not everyone we call friend or family have seen us. Those whom we have seen so far have gone beyond any of our fondest expectations in making us feel welcome and in sharing with us this snapshot in time. We know that there are those whom we will never see again. There are those whom we have not seen for a long time, those whom we see routinely, and those whom we had never seen before this trip. There has been and will be a great deal of reflection on each and every person we have encountered on this trip. Thank you for taking a moment in time to share your lives with us.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Certainly we wish to thank all of you at home who have stepped up to the plate to take on the tasks we would normally do around the community. We know that these tasks will be cared for long into the future. Thank you.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And we need to thank Charlie, our four-legged companion, who keeps us on our toes and brings us smiles with his enthusiasm, energy and playful quirks. Charlie, you will certainly be happy to be home with the leash to be replaced with unfettered acreage for romping.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><br /> <p></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-23738387159116963172022-05-13T18:11:00.000-07:002022-05-13T18:11:01.690-07:00Montana<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UY9lmaIWLipN5Gc2FrLLwDIVT_leWcRWG9wJDcMPZ7r-1aZcPniSLql9puppEKJkaEp0t0YezfqOOpWHIZgPgPte-hpAGih9EAlgOIFdbEr5_1QMxtXaTgm_8irjCLF0V9MXa7z2qHNUa_eIWYpH5vVodJ1unGn5MobZQRyAd8tLyPMUYBCbbQSO/s1000/peter.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UY9lmaIWLipN5Gc2FrLLwDIVT_leWcRWG9wJDcMPZ7r-1aZcPniSLql9puppEKJkaEp0t0YezfqOOpWHIZgPgPte-hpAGih9EAlgOIFdbEr5_1QMxtXaTgm_8irjCLF0V9MXa7z2qHNUa_eIWYpH5vVodJ1unGn5MobZQRyAd8tLyPMUYBCbbQSO/w574-h271/peter.png" width="574" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Alas! The scenery is becoming more Denvy-like, or at least the scenery is the type with which Denvy really feels comfortable. There are vast open spaces, mountains that dominate the horizon with white, and black, and blue, brown and green, and rivers that run clear and wide, streams that bounce down the mountains deep in narrow gouges, clouds that sparkling white among the blue and others that loom dark with rain, lakes that reflect the vanishing horizon or ripple white with random wind tossed waves, and broad farmed valleys with mountains on each side.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I don’t know where or when the seed for that attraction happened, I just know it’s in my being.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">And there’s lots of this scenery, which you know if you’ve ever crossed Montana from side to side. We entered Montana from the south near Billings and overnighted in Bozeman. Apparently WalMart in Bozeman is popular, needed and well used. It had it’s own section for campers. There were many RV’s in the apparent designated corner.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Out of Bozeman we drove to the south edge of Whitefish or the north edge of Kalispell (your choice) to visit nephew Rory Cameron and his wife Tricia. They moved to this acreage from southern California several years ago. She does legal work from her home computer and he expresses this love of the outdoors, nature and animals with his horses, his manicured garden and construction projects. One son graduated from high school last year and the other will graduate in June. Both were off doing their thing so we didn't see them.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">After a brief 15-minute drive south, still between Whitefish and Kalispell, we supped a stew and sourdough bread with great-nephew Peter (son of Bill and Cherie), his wife Sarah (also the cook) and their two elementary school daughters. I had a great deal of fun with the girls as they were eager to share their newfound activity of crocheting. They had learned to chain and so they were creating long chains. Someday they will learn from their mother how to crochet and double crochet and turn and increase and maybe even a magic circle. I hope to follow their progress. Oh, by the way, this is a family of serious hikers which works well with Glacier National Park and many mountain trails just minutes away.<o:p></o:p></span></p></div><p><br /> </p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-62868817519160752772022-05-10T17:28:00.001-07:002022-05-10T17:28:10.263-07:00Really Good Old High School Friends<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUAM2ZYijPnj7rDOXiVBu11nkxhQzjRDMZZkLPyDm8ae7CIIhZbDAMd8G6BMtfxpb1O7NfXpe9Th3cg8eCzwijaY4RVvbrBk0wqtfmjM-qB9EupDondYZa7QAcwvE6HBMUcrlZaHjr_hCSYa2kXansmII-Y7hEXSceP_IjK76mJHyIDKXQU3RkzimO/s1000/timmelodie.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUAM2ZYijPnj7rDOXiVBu11nkxhQzjRDMZZkLPyDm8ae7CIIhZbDAMd8G6BMtfxpb1O7NfXpe9Th3cg8eCzwijaY4RVvbrBk0wqtfmjM-qB9EupDondYZa7QAcwvE6HBMUcrlZaHjr_hCSYa2kXansmII-Y7hEXSceP_IjK76mJHyIDKXQU3RkzimO/w576-h272/timmelodie.png" width="576" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ree, Tim, Melodie, Al</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">We're now a full eight weeks into this experiment, this trek, this adventure, this road trip. As expected we're starting to feel the urge to get back to the home pastures. But there's more to do and we will do it before the lawn gets mowed at home.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">This may be a bit out of chronological order but here is the latest. It’s a long haul between the last visit and the next so we split this drive into two shorter jaunts allowing a bit of time for napping, checking emails, getting some paperwork done and writing two entries into the blog.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Our hope Monday morning as we left Rapid City was to see the Custer State Park bison. We swooped south, followed the “backest” of back road and only saw one by the road and four or five up a ravine in the distance. We’ll settle for a prairie dog town, a scattering of deer, some prone horned antelope, a singleton wild turkey and lots of rocks that camouflaged as wannabe wildlife. Despite the lack of bison the drive was so much like home.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Late midday we arrived at the home of a dear high school friend of mine, Tim, and his sweet wife, Ree. Even though we’ve driven by Belle Fourche a time or two before, times that were rushed for one reason or another, this was the first visit in this home after about 50 years since we saw them in the earlier home in Hebron. Ree is a music major and has three keyboard instruments – an upright piano, a harpsichord, and a “new one on me,” a butterfly grand. It’s smaller than a baby grand; it’s symmetric with two covers that open for louder sounds on both sides making it look like a butterfly. Who would have known?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I needed to call ahead to another classmate (Melodie) adjusting the next day’s schedule who was a good friend of Tim’s but had not seen or heard from Tim since graduation. I put the phone on the table with the speaker on and told them who was on the phone. What a delight it was to hear them reconnect after 60 years. This will be a highlight in this trip.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">We drove three hours, one hour from Melodie and Al’s home, and found a parking spot with our favorite truckers and fellow RVers in a WalMart lot in Sheridan, Wyoming. Melodie was a classmate in high school. I remember Tim’s father taking him, myself and Melodie to see a movie in the neighboring town when we were in high school. It was <i>El Cid</i>. Melodie went on to college and married Al whom she met there. She continues to teach as a substitute while Al who operates a radio station has recently purchased an old vacated Ben Franklin store which they are remodeling to house a half dozen boutiques. Their dream is to revitalize the old downtown of Hardin, Montana.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">We swung back a few miles from Hardin to tour the Little Big Horn Battlefield, a National Park. We love our old-person free National Park passes! This park was very nicely laid out and displayed with headstones scattered throughout the hillsides where soldiers and warriors died. It was a major clash of cultures and so many young men on both sides died.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Now we are soaking in the sun after several more hours of driving, parked in our favorite chain of camp sites – WalMart.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-7929180114414676212022-05-10T16:34:00.005-07:002022-05-10T16:34:55.719-07:00South Dakota<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhId5yK6y3m3zXi7tvgWJFC0P9CFNXlXLH95HkYN5GFsC47ledGoUgIMhHLsjufa5DdBwxPTTAR-5HT9kOwTrdqRwOAqitNeYzQvJ_moW5TP6pyyPahHuuWvJwmVtulzfvZfNRWHkH84oPVJwnJJ8w7m0zsgXzefrItbyUS59cd_UwXBKlFFvxjBHl0/s1730/clouds.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="476" data-original-width="1730" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhId5yK6y3m3zXi7tvgWJFC0P9CFNXlXLH95HkYN5GFsC47ledGoUgIMhHLsjufa5DdBwxPTTAR-5HT9kOwTrdqRwOAqitNeYzQvJ_moW5TP6pyyPahHuuWvJwmVtulzfvZfNRWHkH84oPVJwnJJ8w7m0zsgXzefrItbyUS59cd_UwXBKlFFvxjBHl0/w752-h206/clouds.png" width="752" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Today, among other things, was a day of clouds. The morning was routine, overcast and blah. Midday was sunny and quite pleasant. We spent early afternoon with friends and as we were about to leave we could hear heavy rain which included a few moments of hail. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">And then it started. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">As we drove west out of South Dakota, the clouds to the north were dark as night. To the southwest big fluffy white ones were set off by a dark backdrop of threatening clouds. We were headed northwest and it looked bright.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The drive was some two hundred miles and the conditions changed by the moment. The road tended to the west and the southwest clouds slipped behind us. Then to the northwest and the west the skies darkened as the northern ones had a dash of white amid the appearance of rain; it was snow. Minutes became hours and the road turned wet but our windshield remained dry. Over the next ridge the edges of the road were white; possibly hail or snow. Now the threatening clouds cautiously slipped behind us while others grew in the north, then the south, and even in the west. Whenever we drove directly toward clouds, the route changed and we skirted between the showers. Still no need for wipers. However, Gail was constantly taking pictures as the clouds morphed in color, shape, tone, height, and threatening appearance. It rained the entire evening and we enjoyed the displays without hardly a drip on the windows.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">--------------<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Sunday started with a quick breakfast in a café with my lifelong friend John. Our parents were friends and we were born months apart so we probably played with each other in our cribs. We attended six years of grade school together and after six years apart as his father followed his teaching career we landed in the same college. While his career followed time in Viet Nam and teaching, he now gathers plant and soil samples for a ranching experiment for NDSU; going strong at 77 he is.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">After a four-hour drive from Dickinson along the North/South Dakota border we spent a couple hours on the ranch/farm of the Scarboroughs. Mrs. Pam Scarborough was my 51-year old niece who died just three months ago. This day was pleasant allowing us an opportunity to chat outside on the deck while throwing the ball for our dogs Their two-year old golden lab likes to fetch as much as Charlie. Charlie also enjoyed the freedom of the open fields, the cattle and a peer who could match his athletic abilities. Pam’s sister Sharla came by for Mother’s Day along with three of her five children, so there were a total of six great nephews and nieces roaming the yard and sharing stories about school and stuff.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">After another three-hour drive we shared our evening meal with Samantha, an adopted daughter of Gail’s brother Stuart. Sam is a traveling nurse and is just about to complete her contract in Rapid City. She shared many stories about her nursing here and there but also threw in a few about raising a post-secondary school son back in Florida. It sometimes seems like a miracle that we get through raising our families.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Overnight was in another WalMart in Rapid City.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-33123786521976188942022-05-08T06:02:00.002-07:002022-05-08T06:02:32.174-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggzg70fpjx4PMQKk-1m5w1LXoVtOZRF7B0wy2qY8dZJNwNQWi10ZIHpfO4tQuj-F5zWKURv7Wj0vM1jjG9VL7G1FJDxztyI25OY9_pmBILCHm-c8xT2wcNYlQsXSdIh-9j-p583hjJ36lhEOR6hIDst6pHFptUQBUlvfJrAcg1F16siFww_IDT_mfF/s1000/hhs62class.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggzg70fpjx4PMQKk-1m5w1LXoVtOZRF7B0wy2qY8dZJNwNQWi10ZIHpfO4tQuj-F5zWKURv7Wj0vM1jjG9VL7G1FJDxztyI25OY9_pmBILCHm-c8xT2wcNYlQsXSdIh-9j-p583hjJ36lhEOR6hIDst6pHFptUQBUlvfJrAcg1F16siFww_IDT_mfF/w533-h252/hhs62class.png" width="533" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ken, Joyce, Jim, Jane, Denvy, Darlys</div><p><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">While there have been numerous surprises or unexpected events on this journey, last evening was notable.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">We expected to park in some vacant lot in Hebron last night, however, we received an unexpected phone call inviting us to stay in this lady’s mother’s yard, a farm yard.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The lady, Kerry, was a student when I worked at the University of Jamestown, actually she worked for me, and we discovered not only that we came from the same home town but that we were remotely related.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Now she’s the town banker.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Her mother, Pam, was a classmate in Hebron but about six years younger than I. After we identified ourselves and plugged in the covered wagon, they asked if we wanted to see her quilting. This was unbelievable. Her entire basement was filled with shelves of fabrics, and boxes of fabrics, and a couple sewing machines. Her main floor had quilts of all sizes hanging and lying around; the patterns and colors were quite varied. Apparently she has done shows and exhibits with as many as a hundred quilts. The tour was like going through a museum. <i>(We forgot to take pictures.)</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">This morning we met for brunch with some high school classmates who lived in the area (Jane, Joyce, Jim, Darlys and Ken). I’ve been to school reunions before but like so many times during this trek, the conversations became quite detailed and reached into the depths of our lives. There were stories of being discipled in school, working the first cafeteria, after school activities; stories of first jobs and starting families as well as those about classmates who are no longer with us. We reviewed old pictures and discussed where we sat in the classroom. Some of us even remembered that we sat alphabetically our senior year.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Finally we took a picture with the six of us who came together and quickly reminisced the classmates who weren’t with us, about 11 out of 30. Our hugs had the underlining theme that this may be the last time we share stories and hugs. The official 60<sup>th</sup> class reunion is this summer but this was a gift from these five to meet us during our time passing through. This trip is so important to all of us.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-82347381681730715702022-05-06T19:25:00.003-07:002022-05-06T19:25:39.702-07:00Bismarck<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia4kD7-64iR5iZwK8I8ip-KXMfEni7mWt15Ev57axhTUeiuac2O_eCW5V5zEz4qx3we0fEpvK7IzXSeAqKrJ0ilw8VOaxdn42FaRvDHv4HHODhL_0rDd4B4rJ0xFT6TvSjytus4o2oczEAKB3yzCVyxfbfCiV5bJjmEc9v_O-WuMrSBPmBdAfYjHXi/s1000/steve.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia4kD7-64iR5iZwK8I8ip-KXMfEni7mWt15Ev57axhTUeiuac2O_eCW5V5zEz4qx3we0fEpvK7IzXSeAqKrJ0ilw8VOaxdn42FaRvDHv4HHODhL_0rDd4B4rJ0xFT6TvSjytus4o2oczEAKB3yzCVyxfbfCiV5bJjmEc9v_O-WuMrSBPmBdAfYjHXi/w557-h263/steve.png" width="557" /></a><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Deona, Payton's future business, Steve</div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Polly retold her story about her uncle and newlywed bride who were mauled by a bear when they were hiking in Alaska.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Gail related again her story of picking up a couple in Alaska who were mauled by a bear and the man was too tall (long) to fit in the ambulance.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">We first shared these stories 26 years ago while Polly and I worked for Jamestown College, now the University of Jamestown, as we sat at a Homecoming banquet.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The small world connection was that these were the same persons.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Polly was director of development those years ago; today she is the university president.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">We talked candidly as friends do and she shared that the worst day of life was when she had to decide what to do regarding COVID. She said she knew that if she closed the college staff and facility would have to be laid off. She couldn’t bear that thought and chose to rearrange the college and keep it going. She cited only one case of serious illness. She truly loves her students, faculty and staff.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">We had been invited by the assistant development director (she has other titles also) to breakfast that morning at the college cafeteria. In line waiting for an omelet we met a coworker (coach) from those 26-plus years ago. We chatted, exchanged stories and went our ways. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium;">We were a bit early for our meeting with our granddaughter Payton so we stopped at the RV shop to ask a question which they couldn’t resolve. They discovered that the mystery motor was a fan under Gail’s chair but couldn’t find a way to turn it off. I checked the iPad manual and learned there’s a switch which was accidentally bumped on. We switched it off and the purring and draining of the battery quit.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">We finished using up the extra hour at my brother George’s where we would spend the night.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">We met Payton at the Cracker Barrel where we got an earful from a young lady trying to make her way in life. She surprised us with the news that she was going to buy a one-person nutritional drink shop in downtown Mandan. It’s called Impact Nutrition. We stopped by the next evening, took some pictures and recognized that it was a very neat clean establishment. We wish her well.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">After an evening with George and Karen, and a warm overnight in the covered wagon, we shared breakfast with Payton’s sister Deona, whose birthday is today (May 6). We had the same young waitress as the day before and enjoyed some bantering back and forth including the acquired taste for grits which Deona had never tasted. It was unanimous that none of us had acquired the taste for grits. Deona has a new puppy, still works for Starbucks and is looking for an opportunity to move on to another location, possibly with her boyfriend to Virginia. Grandma and grandpa are a bit cautious about this decision, but it’s not ours to make.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">The afternoon was spent with a Hebron graduate who is a distant relative and who manages the Hebron Historical Society site on Facebook. It was an informative conversation getting both information about the big picture of the family and specific details. The evening was spent sharing a meal at the Pizza Ranch with George’s son Glendon and family.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg0dR6xF-0cmZHUuQCgHAAtSl0u3UWY2MA-rvykkMesHFs4xTDxFy6KbeadDPXjkp3HSzgMWDi2kAPdGxxlXjHKTsQiC4Hde1Un67BCn4V5yfw5LkPVLJsdILApoT5IFE-v-tQSmkEsuNorDPEBxNldzkbjWyz3ukevIdcnuVpxl3X99UO37DlcBs7/s1000/glendon.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg0dR6xF-0cmZHUuQCgHAAtSl0u3UWY2MA-rvykkMesHFs4xTDxFy6KbeadDPXjkp3HSzgMWDi2kAPdGxxlXjHKTsQiC4Hde1Un67BCn4V5yfw5LkPVLJsdILApoT5IFE-v-tQSmkEsuNorDPEBxNldzkbjWyz3ukevIdcnuVpxl3X99UO37DlcBs7/w511-h241/glendon.png" width="511" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Austin, Glendon, Penny, George, Sheldon, Karen</span></div><p></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-68258996533211924402022-05-03T18:28:00.001-07:002022-05-03T18:28:47.961-07:00The Alms<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdbqE32cptpJeTumJGoT8gxHUv5elFyH1ScYnNBwNuNCQQ7MqiWbdH0EltfI_0XzSSp97UHIXz1OCJJGD6HTgv5ZK_kDCWilOfp7nPrlstGoJbOo6pESczwByMkCsNsMxirIQRAgADjhuQKrSI82QD9XxqNu8ztOa8FAziryuALoeURCneXi7i9I32/s1000/alms.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdbqE32cptpJeTumJGoT8gxHUv5elFyH1ScYnNBwNuNCQQ7MqiWbdH0EltfI_0XzSSp97UHIXz1OCJJGD6HTgv5ZK_kDCWilOfp7nPrlstGoJbOo6pESczwByMkCsNsMxirIQRAgADjhuQKrSI82QD9XxqNu8ztOa8FAziryuALoeURCneXi7i9I32/w601-h284/alms.png" width="601" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Brad, David (inset), Judy, Gail, Norma, Brad (again), Becky, Gail (again), Steve</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Brad walked in with a small stuffed toy, a horse. “Ellen made this for me. When I knew I was meeting you today, I got it out to bring along.” The Ellen Brad was referring to is Gail’s mother. Gail remembers helping her mother make these stuffed animals, mainly stuffing them, this one given to Brad probably when he was quite young and his father died. This particular horse was a patterned corduroy with a large white fluffy mane and tail.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">We are exhausted this evening as we pull into the campus of the University of Jamestown. I quipped, “I don’t know why I’m so exhausted this evening.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">“Sure you do,” replied Gail. “We just spent the afternoon reminiscing and philosophizing non-stop with six exuberant former classmates and neighbors of mine.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The two families of Alm cousins lived about a couple miles from Gail’s family farm. Today we were at the home of Norma Alm who married Gail’s classmate David Warrey. Judy is Norma’s sister. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The other family was represented by Steve, Becky and Brad. They have one other sister Nancy who is in Oregon visiting her daughter, her husband and their son. Both parents work at WOU.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Norma and David served coffee and lemonade, and banana bread, nuts, fresh-from-the-oven chocolate chip cookies and a coffee cake made just for us from a recipe given to them by Ellen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Get the picture? There was a lot to talk about regarding the mixing and mingling of stories. Becky commented once that I looked a bit glazed over with all the stories with which I had no connection. Actually I loved them especially at the end of the visit when Becky said I get the award for patiently listening.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">David did show me his collection of sports and military memorabilia and other antique collectibles. As I stepped into the room I was completely reminded of the collection of sports memorabilia that Al Kvidt has that we saw last week.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">In contrast to so many previous days, the sun is bright and warm and the wind is almost calm. It’s a fantastic evening as we drift off to sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></p></div><p><br /> </p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-83473537387817985962022-05-03T08:59:00.015-07:002022-05-03T09:04:06.333-07:00Fargo - North Dakota<p style="text-align: center;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK7zL6eJeRIcZrm8fSH1PIx0HofElVGO8zfJc3tN3jNKKB36soYUAAcsOAVOQdanNE_YlNtUA6RPYdX31LzNifa9lv_gE9tLsHLVp9tZVSye1mn9FN2w2AlMeQdU0B-sJezy33uOg7jpIBVoOxNlXZ2cJdkie921v9RO8aeugqJPq6w-SSRpFvksBw/s1000/mary.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK7zL6eJeRIcZrm8fSH1PIx0HofElVGO8zfJc3tN3jNKKB36soYUAAcsOAVOQdanNE_YlNtUA6RPYdX31LzNifa9lv_gE9tLsHLVp9tZVSye1mn9FN2w2AlMeQdU0B-sJezy33uOg7jpIBVoOxNlXZ2cJdkie921v9RO8aeugqJPq6w-SSRpFvksBw/w545-h257/mary.png" width="545" /></a></span></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="font-size: large; text-align: center;">Karl - Beth - Mary</span></span></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">The wind has died down, the temperature has crept up a bit, the skies are overcast but there’s not rain and the forecast is for continued important reaching into the 70’s but the end of the week.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">There’s hope for the farmers to get into the fields and plant their corps.</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">In the Red River Valley of North Dakota there’s very little drainage because the countryside is essentially flat vying with a calm ocean surface for flattest place on earth, so we have to wait for the moist to soak into the ground.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif">The day is calm. Mary fixed us a scrambled egg and gooey sweet roll breakfast after which we watched more game shows on TV as we crocheted and did needlepoint and chatted about life and death. Mary’s husband, my brother, died last September. Midday we grabbed a few groceries and visited with Beth Moore, a Cameron but ironically a second cousin to Gail by the McLean side of the family. She has lived well with MS most of her life, now in a assistant living facility. She served us snickerdoodles</span></span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: medium;"> and brownies and thought we were lying when we said we didn’t drink coffee.</span></span><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Evening was spent over a lasagna, salad and sponge cake with a strawberry whipped cream topping, conversation and a bit of</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.5pt;"> a game show on TV. It’s hard to think that my baby brother David is no longer with us. Mary however seems to be doing well. Her son Karl was here for the evening and shared stories about his work as a electrician, continuing to remodel portions of his house and his new trees that he will plant this week.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This morning we’re off to Casselton to visit a collection of Gail’s high school classmates and do some basic household chores in the covered wagon. Yes, house cleaning doesn’t end just because you’re away from home but still in a mobile home. The wind is very mild, the temperatures are pleasant and the skies are blue. It's another great day. Hopefully this will lead to the farmers getting into the fields.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p></div>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-36054010521119008582022-05-01T18:18:00.003-07:002022-05-21T21:30:48.465-07:00Weekend<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5vWfsOLV0Jj-dLcmbty0rv6cKlPH3ES4ZWCba4v7N2khNa_R89JcZt7qRmScd_X8bk2_blldqq79YKzkFQ3krT8lkqvEOMd91sWaXYvYDtlb7y36xR7vPu-vQUB6Lel61mu5l7PIid2-lExWMbvRfbq0ymcA9U0w62lO-TPqjxFRsWhjUsfY1-qLk/s1000/avisetal.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5vWfsOLV0Jj-dLcmbty0rv6cKlPH3ES4ZWCba4v7N2khNa_R89JcZt7qRmScd_X8bk2_blldqq79YKzkFQ3krT8lkqvEOMd91sWaXYvYDtlb7y36xR7vPu-vQUB6Lel61mu5l7PIid2-lExWMbvRfbq0ymcA9U0w62lO-TPqjxFRsWhjUsfY1-qLk/w648-h306/avisetal.png" width="648" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Maureen and Jim - Avis and Gary // Christy and Cam</div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">"Would you like to go to a local high school presentation of the 'Sound of Music'?" </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">"Sure," we said, after all it was 1966 when my sisters invited me to the movie on May 7. That's almost exactly 56 years ago. My sisters were a freshman and a sophomore in college where I was a senior. They each had a date and suggested I do the same. I invited Gail. Eventually we all married our dates. The one making the invitation was my sister and her husband, Avis and Gary in Volga, South Dakota.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">There's more to this story. We drove to the high school and found a note on the door stating that the performance was cancelled because there was illness among the cast. We repeated the process the next night and the note read "Postponed until May 20 and 21." No "Sound of Music" this week for us. Instead we spread out a jigsaw puzzle on the dining table.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Enroute to Volga, near Brookings, South Dakota, we drove through fog and rain. Gail awoke from a short nap and said that things looked worse. My reply was "You missed the bad stuff. I won't have been able to see that car in front of us just moments ago." Today the local news is with regard to local flooding. Last week the news was about the snow storm that has a small town in northwest North Dakota with no power for about two weeks. And yes, we have seen snow in the shadows along the roads - in North Dakota in May.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Just miles before reaching Brookings there is the town of Clear Lake. My records indicate that our daughter Becky's grandmother's headstone is there. The Internet identified her block, lot and site, but without a map that would be useless. Fortunately as we rounded the corner into the cemetery there was a map and within moments we found her headstone (Nona), her father's headstone (Becky's great-grandfather) and Nona's brother. Another check-off the bucket list.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Now we're in West Fargo with our sister-in-law Mary after a Italian meal at Olive Garden with Gail's niece Christy and her daughter Cam. They live near Ayr, the motherlode of the Cameron family, and were able to fill us in on all the local events. They had brought with themselves a picture album of last year's Cameron reunion on the farm.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-22732022176649546562022-04-30T07:34:00.003-07:002022-04-30T07:34:47.501-07:00Minneapolis<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR9XWTcJoyG4M1YB-R9FdNbipAUbvtgMmTyWyfU_axhkzFXh8LEwADzqElrI4cya0lN4QPWKu_eMUrzt_KEuojg69FYYJ4-2Mx5Ax23vsknRDlgX-qfMFE7T9OzJE_aW2fk_RSdnAXHTl88Dnd7jTjI8zOiZSz8h2nU8To0kemfpp-XIvqRpzoZjY2/s1000/minneapolis.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR9XWTcJoyG4M1YB-R9FdNbipAUbvtgMmTyWyfU_axhkzFXh8LEwADzqElrI4cya0lN4QPWKu_eMUrzt_KEuojg69FYYJ4-2Mx5Ax23vsknRDlgX-qfMFE7T9OzJE_aW2fk_RSdnAXHTl88Dnd7jTjI8zOiZSz8h2nU8To0kemfpp-XIvqRpzoZjY2/w688-h325/minneapolis.png" width="688" /></a><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;">Cherie, Bill; Greg, Penny; Harley, Teresa, Keith and Suzanne</div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">It's been a full several days, visiting several groups or families each day.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">As we landed in the Minneapolis area, we parked in the driveway of Greg and Penny, a nephew by Gail’s sister and his wife. We were also met by grandson Vincent who sends afternoons with grandma until his parents finish their workdays. Greg has been a musician throughout his education, his early career and now in retirement. There was a stretch when he worked IT security. Now he plays bass with several groups and builds string instruments, most recently ukuleles.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The next morning, we stopped by for tea and bagels at my second cousin on my father’s side – Marlene Hoerauf and Don Walth. We’ve been in contact periodically over the years regarding family history. She has boxes of family data and stories. Exciting!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">That evening we drove a bit south for a meal with cousins Harley and Keith Saxowsky and their spouses Teresa and Suzanne. Harley is retired IT. Keith is retired as well and spent some of the winter in southern Arizona where he has engaged in creating stained glass windows and with the aid of a community kiln fused glass bowls.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Our final morning in the Twin Cities area was with Gail’s nephew and spouse, Bill and Cherie Cameron. Unfortunately we didn’t get to see all the relatives in the area, eg Avis’ daughter Sharla and family, my brother David’s daughter Stacey and family, and Gail’s nephew Gerry. I guess this is an opening for another trip.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Thursday we headed toward the South Dakota border stopping in Campbell to visiting college friends, Betty Jo and Al Kvidt. She served as a bridesmaid at our wedding. He with her support has always has had a strong interest in sports resulting in a collection of more than 400 signed baseballs and over 600 boggle-head statutes of pro athletes. They have also visited every major league baseball stadium in the United States with a framed collage of all the games’ tickets to verify it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">From there we drove a couple hours north to Sebeka where plugged in the electric cord to the house of a niece and husband, Maureen and Jim Dragseth, a pair of lifelong teachers now retired. Our visit was over breakfast. They enjoyed traveling including camping around much of the USA and touring Alaska and parts of Central America. The stories were invigorating and enticing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-38182034841699059662022-04-25T19:36:00.000-07:002022-04-25T19:36:00.687-07:00Laura, Dick, Diane and David<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKBzrBiihv1UB0h22gPryEajDhy_dB1MvrQwyqTYhntxiwQbK8im4TiltWqTZSm-klfbinmRgoTz8gGCdskyG5ZQG-KUFln8qSibPjc_KeDDPwjMHXJnYF2eXkp4-AFlIdC_dij64vVfWX5Lct3O2i_2jB-vODrZgLwipGOZNhjKNcGz7obOjtAt3I/s1000/stLouis.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKBzrBiihv1UB0h22gPryEajDhy_dB1MvrQwyqTYhntxiwQbK8im4TiltWqTZSm-klfbinmRgoTz8gGCdskyG5ZQG-KUFln8qSibPjc_KeDDPwjMHXJnYF2eXkp4-AFlIdC_dij64vVfWX5Lct3O2i_2jB-vODrZgLwipGOZNhjKNcGz7obOjtAt3I/w648-h306/stLouis.png" width="648" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After our trek across Canada we landed in Traverse City, Michigan, with Dick and Diane. I wrote about them in the last blog.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We left Morrisons after a breakfast of aebleskiners - a new dish to us - made by Dick. We arrived at a WalMart about an hour north of our designated meeting place with Laura. We weren't certain what to expect with Laura as we have never met her before. Our first shack was that the hotel where we would meet her for breakfast was in a pretty classy part of St Louis. Second was that the hotel was one of the most beautiful we've ever been in. Third was that Laura is beautiful intelligent well-liked member of the hotel staff. We chatted for a couple hours and shared information about our lives and the paths that crossed or almost crossed. With a full belly and a warm heart, we exchanged hugs and slowly wandered up to our covered wagon.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After participating in the Marj Howard's Zoom Memorial Service we headed to visit Galletly - "David Galletly" as Bond would say. We met at a Thai restaurant and joined by his son Aaron and his (Aaron's) girl friend Amanda. Being that Aaron is a bartender with years of food service experience we entrusted him with the entrée selections which he did very well. A couple hugs and good-byes with Aaron and Amanda and we were off following David to his abode at the end of a dead end street with a huge lawn and a railroad as the back boundary. We added New York pages to his menu of a Country Western Omelette before some fond hugs and adieus. We first met David when he came to Alaska with a mission team and stayed for the summer. He later married our niece whom he met that summer, but alas, that didn't last.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The drive north to Millville, just north east of Rochester, Minnesota, was uneventful if you ignore the gusts of wind and the nap in the Love's parking lot. We arrived to a warm welcome from Bill and Jill, Gail's niece, several hours of catching up on what's new and a delicious chicken meal. After a couple rounds of playing with Charlie, a tour of the covered wagon, more chatting and starting the heater (it's forecasted to be 27˚tonight, we rolled out our bed rolls and settled in for the night. Charlie had beat us to the draw as he had found a pillow on the floor in the house and claimed it as his own, Now he's in the covered wagon exposed to the same elements of weather as we are. Poor puppy.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Tomorrow we start the visiting in Minneapolis.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><p></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-80882187970219320862022-04-24T07:27:00.001-07:002022-04-24T07:28:51.655-07:00More Driving<p><span style="font-family: arial;">We have become acutely aware that we have driven many a mile. Last evening as we pulled up the driveway to Dick and Diane's we logged 10,000 miles on this driveabout. That day we hustled from London, Canada to Traverse City, Michigan. Last night we finalized details for meeting Laura Mathis in St Louis, 600 miles from Traverse City. We did all but the last 60 miles which we will do in the morning.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">One is wise to be concerned about driving around or near Chicago regarding heavy traffic and toll roads, and that includes Gary, Indiana. Even with the automatic transformer that allows us to scoot through the toll booths, we think that we actually avoided all tolls. If you travel in the east where toll highways are common, our advice is to get one of these transformers. They reduce the stress to zero and the cost is typically half of what we would pay if we didn't have it. There are no booths, or persons in the booths, or baskets to catch your quarters as you fly by. It's either the transformer, which is an account you pay later, or they take a picture of your car's license and send you a bill for twice as much. This is all new to us; we used to toss the quarters.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Dick and Diane were youth leaders in the church where we worshipped in Anchorage in the early 70's. They were about our age, had adopted a biracial son like we had and then adopted an Alaskan native daughter as we had. They returned to Michigan, the home of their roots, where both Dick and Diane served in the church, Dick as a pastor, an interim, an arbitrator (his doctorate thesis was in mediation) and finally as a district superintendent. Upon retirement they built a log house on a pinnacle north of Traverse City overlooking a bay of Lake Michigan. It reminded us of our efforts to build a home that fits our needs and decorate with personal touches. Diane seemed to have taken a lead in the decorating and also worked on the construction. It was cozy and so personal.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Our conversations included happenings in our lives over the past 40 years since we last saw them as well as many memories of our common experiences. Dick just recently had a knee replacement and iis doing exercises to keep it supple and strong. They had a dog who joined Charlie in running around the yard and also bumping Dick to the ground. Dick was fine but I felt very bad for the incident.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Tomorrow morning we will have brunch with Laura Mathis, a half-sister of our adopted son Darron, whom we have never met. We have talked on the phone from time to time. We are very eager to meet her. After that brunch we hope to find a good WiFi connection to participate in the memorial service for Marj Howard. Then it's off to Kansas City to see a young friend who lived with us part of a summer many years back. He's not so young anymore - like the rest of us.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Oh, by the way, the wind blew again today, about 40 MPH according to the Internet. Driving was tough but walking to the restrooms at the rest stop was almost impossible against the wind. The morning should be better. This WalMart seems very safe and inviting.</span></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-6741902524369544112022-04-21T19:38:00.003-07:002022-04-21T19:38:43.595-07:00Driving<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='417' height='347' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx8Gu2FohNIGT8B0UHgsW7g2JbSDTwi_dJNDhRFrW_agDfQ3UndOTXyY21leooFs7Rh37MgqPgYm9ZgLiF3Zg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /> <p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">One may wonder what gulls and driving have in common. The answer is "wind."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The wind today wasn't the worst but during this day's journey across northwestern New York state and Canada west of the "Falls" I did had to hang onto the steering wheel quite firmly and my eyes on the road. Often the van would zig and I would have to convince it to zag instead.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">One might also ask what does one do while sitting in the covered wagon for hours on end. While the routine may vary, some of the highlights remain constant. Two tasks related to traveling are guiding the van down the road and determining which road to guide the van down. I do the guiding and listening to Gail who determines the road. We also listen to the young lady on the iPhone who can be very helpful but also at times very confusing. We manage.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Another favorite activity is rehashing what just happened at the previous stopover. This could get juicy but we tend to moderate the conversation to the many pleasntries we've just experienced.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We contact ahead to the next stop. We watch for fueling stations and dump sites. We stop for the dog. We comment of the scenery, the history and the wind in the area. In northern US and now Canada, the trees are bare and even berms of snow from the day before exist. We discuss our menus, where we will sleep that night and sometimes we stop and take a nap.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Tonight we are in London, Canada, in our van in the driveway of our niece Toni who fed us a great chicken meal. Her sister Heidi from Ohio decided to stay an extra day to visit with us and save us a stop around the other side of the lake in Ohio. Her husband Robin has intrigued me with his stories of the history of the area and wars in general.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Tomorrow we will chat about this most recent visit and our hosts as we head to mid Michigan.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>I'm not certain if the video will work. So be it.</i></span></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-14866008109723007162022-04-19T17:58:00.005-07:002022-04-19T17:58:59.783-07:00Maine<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0y7RUconL949Ly4Kb-T9MOpAoKjhdpeG3Y5Q7QS0EvTfjltMh36f-J-EOImQLTRgu8YCGiFv4NUKXF7aLvTMvuCNgyc5jWBGcKbGc9Ax0T8O0Tz_16PwAeiULFhh7_ZmDEC56kqVv3sV00ADiuT3ghLxe5rYu7NFQjKbW1a45JgtYvSmfHV4wfEo0/s1000/lighthouse.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0y7RUconL949Ly4Kb-T9MOpAoKjhdpeG3Y5Q7QS0EvTfjltMh36f-J-EOImQLTRgu8YCGiFv4NUKXF7aLvTMvuCNgyc5jWBGcKbGc9Ax0T8O0Tz_16PwAeiULFhh7_ZmDEC56kqVv3sV00ADiuT3ghLxe5rYu7NFQjKbW1a45JgtYvSmfHV4wfEo0/w767-h362/lighthouse.png" width="767" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">It’s not only tomorrow when we were in New York, it’s the day after tomorrow.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Between visiting and driving – and refueling and letting the dog out – I run out of time and mostly energy.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The drive to NewYork was adventurous and stimulating. Cars were everywhere. Google maps send us in circles but always with the correct results – evidently. Roads, bridges, tunnels, lights, stop signs, pedestrians, skyscrapers, rivers, another bridge, several hundred more cars and no parking places. Oops, I lied. Dwight met us in the middle of the street lined on both sides with parked cars and enough driving room for one vehicle unless you pulled in your mirrors and said a prayer. Gail jumped out. I greeted Dwight. Colleen appeared from the daylight basement rowhouse (Is that a good term?). I pulled in the mirrors as Dwight and I watched a delivery truck finish his delivery and close his tailgate. Moments later I slipped into his vacated spot and we paid the meter - $2 for one hour, $6 for two hours and two was the max. You do the math; it's crazy but logical - they want to discourage long time parking. We’d come back in a couple hours and pay the meter again.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">This visit was awesome. I’ve always enjoyed Dwight and getting to know Colleen was wonderful. We swapped stories about college – Dwight and I were in the same class, both math majors, Colleen was a year younger and Gail was three years younger. So we had shared my senior in college but didn’t all interact back in those days. We walked down the street for a omelet lunch and back to their house to compare some family history stories. Dwight and I took a side trip to purchase some authentic New York bagels.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">This is where the fun begins. We pointed our covered wagon toward Boston with an ETA of about a bit after 6PM. We spent many a mile going about 10-20 MPH along with several thousand of our closest chauffeur/soccer mother/commuter friends. We rambled down David’s gravel road to his end-of-the-trail house as the clock approached 9PM. We were so happy to make the arrival.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">After the initial greetings and hearing the weather forecast for heavy wind and rain startng at midnight, Gail prepared the covered wagon and I chatted for a bit. David is probably my best friend from grade school and high school. He’s now a director of music at the United Church of Christ church in Boston, a great musician/composer and a gardener extraordinaire. In the morning we walked through his exquisite yard which backed onto the Charles River. While it’s not actually a greenhouse attached to the house, the one floor served that purpose well.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">After a shared brunch we headed to the coast of Maine. They say it’s beautiful and they – whoever they are – are right. The wind and rain from the night before was still affecting the coast line and the waves were gorgeous with the waves and mist climbing high into the sunlight. After having viewed the mandatory lighthouse for a Maine visitor, we had a Maine lobster and checked that off our bucket list.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Now we are now in the WalMart parking lot in Scarborough, Maine, recuperating from several wonderful days of visiting old friends . We’ve reached our westernmost, southernmost and easternmost points on this journey. Tomorrow we direct ourselves westward with a straight line like the teeth on saw.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-53471276418586096622022-04-19T17:47:00.001-07:002022-04-19T17:47:42.325-07:00Easter<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW61C8H5mbn_EpnxVRzvIwd0wZxJraIiXb3Tm1iFxaLK6JFLmdhUqmdr13ITtGcjKYidFMqABnRo_TDTh-dvb1RsiRMWMvdgIeoMoCQtWAN2AYshbvZrmM7fbINev_odVqfmWNVw5k8U1uZOid0bv7ubi_SmARc_AUc6PHRjB1S_sKI7r4ZL-IwR5x/s1000/allens.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW61C8H5mbn_EpnxVRzvIwd0wZxJraIiXb3Tm1iFxaLK6JFLmdhUqmdr13ITtGcjKYidFMqABnRo_TDTh-dvb1RsiRMWMvdgIeoMoCQtWAN2AYshbvZrmM7fbINev_odVqfmWNVw5k8U1uZOid0bv7ubi_SmARc_AUc6PHRjB1S_sKI7r4ZL-IwR5x/w629-h297/allens.png" width="629" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Simon, Dan aka dad, Lucas, Jonah and Nicole aka mom</div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Most days of driving are central in the spectrum of good days and bad days. Within the bad days – actually there are no bad days, only days that are not as good or are more challenging and exhausting – there are several reasons for this condition extremely diverse from one another. For example there was that day we crossed Arkansas north to south along narrow winding country roads with hairpins posted speed limits of 10 MPH. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Saturday was quite different as we crossed seven states and many major cities. We started in Virginia, passed by or through DC – I know it’s not a state but we will count it as one, besides their license plates state “Taxation without representation” – passed by Balitmore in Maryland, slipped across Delaware into New Jersey and the infamous New Jersey Turnpike, nosed through the jungle leading up to and through New York City and state, and finally resting in Connecticut. It was natural to think we’d be passing through Pennsylvania, but if you follow I95 or the NJ Turnpike, you’re just across the river. So we missed Pennsylvania.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">We arrived in New Haven, home of Dan and Nicole Allen, just as the three boys (Lucas, Jonah, and Simon, aged from 5 years to 20 months) were getting into their PJs, and Halloween costumes which served as robes and their bedtime story and prayer. Nicole’s parents from Florence, Oregon were there also so we had a full house; we tried to minimize our impact as we try everywhere by slipping out into our covered wagon for the night.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Sunday morning, Easter morning, we tried our hand at French toast in the covered wagon before joining the family for tea and conversation. Dan and Nicole attended the ecumenical Easter sunrise on a bridge while I just peeked through the blinds to watch the sun rise. It was a nippy morning, around 47˚which is about how warm it got all day.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">We drove to their church, First Presbyterian of New Haven, to watch the children hunt eggs, split a Dunkin’Donut and join in some fellowship. Worship started at 10:45 with an oboist and organist offering a duet. I suspect there were about 120-150 in attendance, all wearing masks including the choir even as they sang several songs. The minister, a young lady, was energetic and energizing, offering many “Christ is Risen” greetings echoed by "He is indeed." The highlight for many of us was singing Handel’s Messiah’s Hallelujah chorus in all its glory. I don’t think I have even seen or heard a lay congregation sing that song and with such enthusiasm.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">We shared a simple but delightful meal and some conversation with all including their friends Zach and Amanda and two children before heading out to find sister Betty’s former Connecticut home where Gail babysat in the early ‘60’s.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Upon our return in the evening we took Charlie into the back yard where he could play catch and offer the boys a delightful time of throwing the ball and frisbee. Bedtime came soon and the boys hit the hay while we continued some additional enlightening conversation about what Dan and Nicole are doing. Dan as a private practice is serving as a recreational therapist for about two dozen clients primarily in the autism spectrum. Nicole works for Yale and is administering a grant to work with groups in Liberia to upgrade their training and teaching of medical personnel. She has worked in Africa several times including her time in the Peace Corps when Dan was with her.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Tomorrow we’re back to New York City to visit Dwight and family, a classmate and friend from our college days. Then it’s off to Boston to visit a great high school friend. More on them later.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><i>Addendum</i><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">There have been some whispers from little birds that there a developing competition to decide who is getting the best reviews in this blog. Everyone, or at least almost everyone, thinks <b>they</b> are the best. So to settle this once and for all, here is a list of the rankings of those in the competition. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"> #1 – “They”<o:p></o:p></p><p> </p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-81864334165886166492022-04-15T19:12:00.002-07:002022-04-15T19:12:44.114-07:00Two hundred and Some Years Ago<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4HwDX7ceXCg0Ha_m5sZWny_f1r6NJq7OawjPd1HQSrYaElMD8pSk1O0mG0Fo3vyPPnjQm7pjt_NsamLladk_9413Uk3USm3CYYEYqilZrf5HeTBxI86QgQ-nZ7rDxnQYeezjp-aABRuUfGyVokyVpp5OumtyZLl7-HA8niwrhehy1XdWIEhUj9sqq/s1000/williamsburg.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4HwDX7ceXCg0Ha_m5sZWny_f1r6NJq7OawjPd1HQSrYaElMD8pSk1O0mG0Fo3vyPPnjQm7pjt_NsamLladk_9413Uk3USm3CYYEYqilZrf5HeTBxI86QgQ-nZ7rDxnQYeezjp-aABRuUfGyVokyVpp5OumtyZLl7-HA8niwrhehy1XdWIEhUj9sqq/w604-h285/williamsburg.png" width="604" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: arial;">It's been a good day and it's been Friday so I believe that it qualifies as Good Friday.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">As I reported in the previous entry, we camped in a legitimate camping site last night, and I reported that it was raining as I wrote. Today was clear and mildly warm; perfect as weather goes including no wind.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">After the morning routine which included a shower, scrambled eggs and walking the dog, aka walking Charlie, after all he thinks he's more people than dog, we set our iPhone on the Colonial Williamsburg Visitor Center and aimed our covered wagon in that direction. Like a deer in the headlights, even after reading all the literature on the place, we moved forward on faith.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">There's really nothing at the Visitor Center other than a gift shop, restrooms, money takers and wise information booth volunteers. Oh, and the start of a mile or more long hike to the attractions. So we mounted the shuttle for the downtown colonial Williamsburg. Our first stop after dismounting our trusty bus, was the millinary shop. At that point we were the first and only visitors. (Our plan to beat the heat and the crowds was working.) The seamstress, in her colonial role, was very informative and knowledgeable, as was the silversmith lady next door.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">After a bit more wandering we noticed a crowd gathering by the Raleigh Tavern, so I purchased several cookies and we watched as colonists argued and discussed the events in Boston that year - seventeen and seventy-five (1775). Some thought the British could do no wrong while the rebel rousing young feller felt the British were systematically slowly taking the freedoms from the colonists. It all sounded too much like our current political discussions and the reports from Ukraine.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Now that it was near 11:30 and we'd been advised to watch out for the appearance of George and Martha Washington, we gathered appropriately with another gathering crowd. George and Martha stepped out of history in the year 1769, if I recall it correctly. They canme to say good-bye to their 650 closest friends gathered in the arena, but quickly slipped into a husband wife conversation about buying two new slaves. She didn't think that they needed two but it finally came out that George didn't want the two teenaged brother slaves to be separated. When asked after the scripted dialogue, what he thought about owning slaves he said that's the culture he grew up in but if you asked him 20 later he said he might have a different answer. He said he was seeing human rights differently. When asked if he thought about a political career, he said he's happy farmer.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Our old age caught up with us so we shuttled back to see Charlie and put our feet up before returning for an afternoon foray into blacksmithing, tin smithing, gardening, joinery and a bit of tailoring. The most profound event of the afternoon was watching the horse draw carriages of tourists around the town. They didn't need much guidance as they had done this probably hundreds of times.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Now we're up the road giving us a two-hour head start on our trek to Connecticut tomorrow.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-16755247735375279832022-04-14T17:40:00.001-07:002022-04-15T04:10:36.585-07:00Up the East Coast<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The image area is intentionally blank; operator error.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">“It is a van or a camper?”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">“Yes.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">So was a portion of a conversation Gail had with the occupants of the car beside us at the rest stop.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">As I joined the conversation I added that since we’re from Oregon I call it a covered wagon.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">They were having very bad moment. We were on the boundary between North Carolina and Virginia. They were from North Carolina headed to a wedding in Virginia and had just discovered that their AirBnB had just cancelled. They were not very excited about the option of some $350 in the only hotel room they could find. I’m afraid we left in our <b>camper van</b> aka covered wagon with no resolution to their issue.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">This was another day of driving, and driving, and driving; or so it seems, from Charleston, South Carolina, through North Carolina and into Virginia. During our breaks we studied the options for the drive and for our potential visit to the Colonial Williamsburg Village, a living historical outdoor museum. We also chose a real RV camp site and paid a fee for a place to park and a lot of things we will not use like a swimming pool, bath house, beach park, and general store. Our neighbors are close, like we each have about twice the width of the camper and just enough depth to nose in and not stick out into the street. The neighbors on both sides have a dog or two which has been driving Charlie crazy. Gail took a shower, a freight train came by missing us by some ten feet or so and now it’s raining so that the street is a flowing stream. Oh, I feel so bad for the neighbor who is in a tent.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">We purchased tickets online for the village admission which is where we will spend the portion of tomorrow that’s not raining.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">The power's plugged in, the van vent automatically closed itself when the rain started and I can’t get the WiFi passcode to work.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">Overall it’s been a great day.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">We don’t have to worry about a tent in the rain or a cancellation of an AirBnB.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"> </span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif">And the drive was smooth, comfortable and carefree.</span> </p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-30400435898068939632022-04-14T04:59:00.002-07:002022-04-14T04:59:20.257-07:00Atlanta and Charleston<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY30WSU-eQwUphjtshYTwjoels5ClSnTdT7nwoJ_kapF3kQ1G-2N6h3sryC0nywdxeN7W5BmmYvuM7VODCDHUt23vzk_3_lxo0YGfMR9Sv-RM3cddVq23vW7bRmUKawcoS0t3hVrioc668cQ95VRASb12GiNVfZd2s1hWUjACQQWtp7TycBUS45MaN/s1000/geese.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="327" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY30WSU-eQwUphjtshYTwjoels5ClSnTdT7nwoJ_kapF3kQ1G-2N6h3sryC0nywdxeN7W5BmmYvuM7VODCDHUt23vzk_3_lxo0YGfMR9Sv-RM3cddVq23vW7bRmUKawcoS0t3hVrioc668cQ95VRASb12GiNVfZd2s1hWUjACQQWtp7TycBUS45MaN/w692-h327/geese.png" width="692" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Our stay in the parking lot of Target was shared with several Canada geese </div><div style="text-align: center;">who seemed to have taken up residency.</div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Before we leave Florida too far behind, we must comment on their rest stops along the interstate highways. About five miles before the rest stop there's consistently a sign indicating how many truck parking places are available. Near the rest stop there'd be a sign indicating where the next stop would be and typically that was about 30 miles. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">At the rest stop there were security cameras adequately placed so that the overnight guard in the building can watch what's going. We felt very safe in these areas especially when we parked amid semi-trucks and trailers that dwarfed us.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We left the bounds of Florida on Monday morning arriving in Smyrna on the northwest edge of Atlanta that evening. Leslie and her partner LaRee greeted us at the door and we exchanged greetings and hugs before retiring to their back porch overlooking a great backyard for Charlie. Going through the house we passed a large nook filled with young children's toys. Leslie and LaRee babysit LaRee's two granddaughters during the day when her daughter Lachelle works as a nurse and her husband attends school to become a doctor. Kyra went off to kindergarten the next morning and one and a half year old Georgie stayed home and intrigued Charlie.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Tuesday was a driving day to Charlotte, North Carolina, where Wednesday morning we had breakfast with Sally, a English teacher colleague we met while in China, and her four-year son </span><span style="font-family: arial;">Matthew. The youngest stayed home and the older one was off to school. We swapped stories of past memories and growing families over omelettes and waffles before heading south to Charleston, South Carolina. Currently Sally heads up a team of advisors for Vanguard, a financial organization</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We stopped to do some laundry at a local coin laundry (no, the covered wagon does not have a washer and dryer) and a bit of crocheting. Every day requires some analysis as to where we are, what are our priorities for the next several days and making arrangements for those days.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">About 4:30PM we arrived at our destination in Charleston where we met Bonnie, one of our bridesmaids and college friend. She has moved into a 55+ apartment complex and was out walking her dog. She continues to nurse in a consulting and educational way but has slowed down after her stroke several years back. They treated us to a huge platter of various local meats at a local eatery. They meaning Bonnie, her daughter Tracy and her husband Bill.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We took the evening to get a head start on our journey to Williamsburg, Virginia today. Yes, it's another WalMart.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-24600499656222563662022-04-11T11:57:00.002-07:002022-04-11T11:57:59.254-07:00Florida - The Turn Around Point<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">"No picture today"</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">What a different a day makes. We’re at a fueling stop near Loxley, Alabama. We’ve never been to BucEes before. As we moved into the lot, there were many many vehicles. Then we noticed the fueling stations, aka gas pumps; two rows, two pumps per slot, two sides per pump; 120 places to park and fuel up. All filled with vehicles. And probably that many more parking spots. I think each vehicle came with four or more occupants and they were all in the store. What an opportunity for a super spreader. I definitely had my mask on, and so did a few others. A disturbed any hill doesn’t have the movement we saw in that store.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">We spent most of the day driving through areas where we had helped with clean-up and reconstruction after Hurricane Katrina. Pearlington was encouraging; cleaned up, new housing, growth; it looked good. A new community center was built where we had camped during our stays. Several specific houses we worked on looked good including the one where the old man asked for bright colors in his bedroom because everything had been so down and depressing. We talked to a couple gents preparing for new concrete in front of the church where we had our meals, and the United Methodist Church which survived looked good.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">In Gautier we stopped and saw the church where we started our Katrina adventure 17 years ago. They have built a new sanctuary but only about 15 persons show on Sunday now. When we attended those years ago there was standing room only in the old building. After some aimless wandering searching our minds for clues to locations where we had worked, we headed back to Interstate 10 and turned our covered wagon east to Florida.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">--------------------<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">We arrived in Leesburg, Florida, aka Fruitland Park, at the home of Brad and AnnMarie Chase in time for a chat and an awesome, my favorite, salmon and rice with cauliflower evening meal. Brad is the twin of Cameron whom we saw in Phoenix and the son of Betty, Gail’s sister, whom we saw in Waco. Their house is on a cove of Lake Griffin, which is interconnected with several other lakes making it possible for a multiple day boat trip. We slept in their driveway that night and had a delightful breakfast on their deck by the pool.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The weather was awesome, no wind and the temperatures are a moderate seventy plus. Alligators swam by but fortunately Chases have a secure well fenced back yard to keep Charlie out of the jaws of a gator. They have a boat and dock which is free of fowl droppings because Brad has proudly installed a motion-activated water squirting system which discourages the perching of fowl. Unfortunately some birds have figured out how to sit on the perch without getting squirted. Fortunately all the birds we saw sat with their backs to the lake. The walkway remained clear of droppings.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The visit with Brad and AnnMarie was awesome because although we have crossed paths at several reunions, these one-on-one interactions are so much more meaningful. We also chatted with AnnMarie’s 91-year old mother who lives with them. All good stuff. - Charlie did take a dip in their backyard pool but never did get Opie, their black lab, to warm up to him.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">We’re pausing for lunch and to make an appointment to service the covered wagon as we move on.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">We will have driven about 7,000 miles as of this evening.</span> </p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-62470091557875748342022-04-08T17:36:00.006-07:002022-04-08T17:36:59.197-07:00Local Cuisine<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaEejYY-bYWVfZ25YEohXpfACSEix_SM-rPnBn1djCHddEXL1DF_3lRdV0xlcw2Q4xnxRlNEbB-TnfnqNdD0--_ocXulqG7IqcAXjL2OCtvzuP8d9G0Z5T6Hka0ReMvqCZS3BPx_Z3Dz5AXRT9PIcc_-hsPUHVvPgEgvlcMIp85eLaLLkzPSzHNCuG/s1000/catfish.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaEejYY-bYWVfZ25YEohXpfACSEix_SM-rPnBn1djCHddEXL1DF_3lRdV0xlcw2Q4xnxRlNEbB-TnfnqNdD0--_ocXulqG7IqcAXjL2OCtvzuP8d9G0Z5T6Hka0ReMvqCZS3BPx_Z3Dz5AXRT9PIcc_-hsPUHVvPgEgvlcMIp85eLaLLkzPSzHNCuG/w608-h287/catfish.png" width="608" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Crossing the Mississippi</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Gail says I should have lots of fodder for today’s blog.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">We stopped at a small family-run Catfish One roadside food stand.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Based on the number of customers for the size of the building, about the size of our covered wagon, aka RV camper van, we figured the food must be good.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Every nook and cranny on the street and in a small gravel pad had a vehicle.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">I pulled up to the curb with our tail sticking into the entrance to the gravel pad but it seemed like the thing to do.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Later as I waited for the food I pulled it forward to align with the curb.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The menu was nicely painted on a four by eight plywood with the words catfish, shrimp and po-boy repeated several times. I quickly decided to go with the “light box” of each a catfish and a shrimp. The two customers in line ordered quickly as did I. I used a credit card and she said they’d call the name on the card. I moved out of the way of traffic and watched Charlie as he surveyed the area from the driver’s seat. Unfortunately my camera was charging in the van so there’s no picture of Charlie driving.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Waiting for their food were about a dozen characters among the eleven persons standing around. Most had a deep southern draw. We’re in McComb, Mississippi, just north of the toe of the Louisiana shoe-shaped state. Most were blacks with a couple white males and white lady. The first gent who was not afraid of talking out, said he had already ordered; he was waiting. He presented himself as playful and friendly. Others seem to take that as too outgoing, but they accepted him.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">A later arrival tall white elderly gent was bit bent over and displayed a shaking hand and insecure balance. He carefully sat down and waited his order. He appeared to know his way around so I suspect he was a regular.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">A gent who backed his pickup against a curb some distance from the stand, arrived before me but studied the menu carefully so I got to order before him. After he ordered he took his stand at the far end of the outdoor patio and started chatting. Apparently he had an opinion about the vaccinations (I didn’t hear his take) but he had COVID twice and once he didn’t even know it.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">A young mid-aged lady was notable as she was wearing a neck-to-toe brilliantly colored and patterned jumpsuit (I’m not a fashion guru so you might more correctly call it something else). It fully covered her skin but did not conceal any of her shape. Her slip-on rhinestone covered scandals glistened in the sun. She must have ordered something that was already cooked because she was in and out in a flash.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">The staff looked like this. A older woman, but not near as old as I, with a bandana around her head took the orders. Two men and a young (maybe 25-year old) woman filled the orders into styrofoam shells from bins of deep fried foods which were refilled with pizza pan platters of greasy food from the kitchen to our right. Another young lady, maybe a late teenager, brought the bags of food to a second window and called out the names. Sometimes it was hard to hear so the lady next to me repeated the call and declared, “I must be the outside one to repeat the names.” Just another character in the crowd. One of her children and family were Guatemala as missionaries and trying to establish residency.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I think about four persons were wearing masks, as was I. Several of the customers were a bit on the chubby size, probably not from the catfish but more than likely from the way they were prepared – deep-fried in tasty fat.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">I suspect my wait was about a half-hour during which time Gail affirmed our stops with relatives in Florida and Georgia in the next several days. We’re in a WalMart parking along with several truckers and RV’s. It’s been a cool windy, long day and it feels good to put the feet up with some tasty local cuisine. We have had several cool windy days and are looking forward to a quiet warm relaxing day and evening.<br /><o:p></o:p></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-33505786221215632712022-04-07T18:51:00.001-07:002022-04-07T18:51:16.164-07:00Arkansas<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYcrP7WJ2rqZJWkOe4qB1qili-JhjmK-YIJnpH1Ey3AiCk486a3wRL0x4BwYNG82x69AfsWGfzxN4iZVFL5bf1ObOnH2MNCkFkyM3uRzOThu8T0UffkkfdKxK_8VkxGzhQ9CAf_NFQH6jBmiX_5iQCmJSwig0kTfR0Ukkflfk3YNhQYTVNDjspT4i/s1000/arkansas.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpYcrP7WJ2rqZJWkOe4qB1qili-JhjmK-YIJnpH1Ey3AiCk486a3wRL0x4BwYNG82x69AfsWGfzxN4iZVFL5bf1ObOnH2MNCkFkyM3uRzOThu8T0UffkkfdKxK_8VkxGzhQ9CAf_NFQH6jBmiX_5iQCmJSwig0kTfR0Ukkflfk3YNhQYTVNDjspT4i/w583-h275/arkansas.png" width="583" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;">Wednesday was a not-so-good horrible terrible bad day for an Arkansawyer or Arkansan hawk. That’s not a species or variety of hawk, it’s just one who lives in Arkansas. His/her/its day started great, he found a fresh but dead squirrel in the middle of the road. However, as we approached him he grabbed the squirrel and flew to avoid a possible collision with us. Just moments after he took off, the prey slipped from his talons and got wrapped around the middle wire of a barbed wire fence. Too high to reach from the ground and guarded by the top wire for a fly-by grab. Anywhere but the middle wire of a barbed wire fence! “Woe is me,” shrieked the hawk nevermore to eat that delicacy.<o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;">-------------------------<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;">As we passed from Texas into Oklahoma several events occurred. I (Denvy) have now set foot in all fifty states, Oklahoma being the last. - We were singing a line or two of songs from the area: “Oh, come sit by my side if you love me, … But remember the Red River Valley, and the cowgirl who loved you so true,” and “Oooooooklahoma, where the wind comes sweeping down the plain.” And have we seen sweeping winds, every day, every state. Our goal this evening was to camp by Denby Point on Lake Ouachita in central Arkansas and enjoy the beauty of the state. We only stepped out to plug in the electricity and turn on the propane and then only after we had donned several sweatshirts and covered our heads. We are still enjoying the view from the shelter of our “covered wagon.”<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;">As we passed from central to northern Texas we noticed a significant change in the landscape, most notable was the change from desert tans and browns polka-dotted with green shrubs and bushes to level lush green fields. The greenery is in part due to the season, spring. We also noticed what they called washes and draws earlier were now rivers and creeks and bayous with water in them. We also noted that after coming out of the Red River valley, we crossed the Blue River, and then there was the Green River and finally the White River. It was like a kindergartener coloring a map and naming the rivers. Of course, there was also the Muddy Boggy River, or something like that, which had to be named by someone who actually saw the water.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;">One goal of the trip was to explore the back country of Arkansas and that we did. The roads from today’s “Go” tile (think Monopoly) to tonight’s camp site was all back roads. The painted middle line wiggled like a sidewinder sliding down the road. At one point there was a rock near the shoulder so the edge white line swerved toward the middle of the road narrowing the pathway. Some hairpins were marked 10mph while most often one could only get up to about 40mph before the next curve. Fortunately there was minimal traffic. I can’t blame them if they know the road. The views were awesome but we were taken back by the numbers of abandoned and totally disintegrated buildings. Several looked like the remnants of a passing tornado. For several moments we also drove through some wildfire smoke. Never did see the source of the smoke.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;">Google in all its glory indicated that today’s drive be just short of four hours. We started at 9:00AM and arrived after 5:00PM; that’s eight hours. Of course, there was a nap thrown in there and there was the matter of taking highway 28 instead of 27 at one intersection which added an extra hour of driving time but much more beautiful scenery, culture and more hairpins.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: start;">Tomorrow we head to Pearlington, Mississippi to see how things look 17 years after Katrina and Christ’s Church’s teams helping in the reconstruction. A full day of driving.<o:p></o:p></p></div><p><br /> </p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-21595183681937101682022-04-05T16:35:00.001-07:002022-04-05T16:35:24.109-07:00The Road in "RoadTrip" <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbdPprtkrcRu2SBCat2ThnrUtiFCcXz4nZiuO7Q9ORwJ0MKd6-tYH0T24VirOa-1xMgVKDCB2nR1ghf9nmRpeMbee0_-JRePZXHQsVeUxckeakJZCsxvXJom-rkm02Yt7riwVqVzxzfXXhxrr67nmcYhswrRn4z1hCsvDYxPMd-e_spo9FQxvl3alC/s1000/bridges.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbdPprtkrcRu2SBCat2ThnrUtiFCcXz4nZiuO7Q9ORwJ0MKd6-tYH0T24VirOa-1xMgVKDCB2nR1ghf9nmRpeMbee0_-JRePZXHQsVeUxckeakJZCsxvXJom-rkm02Yt7riwVqVzxzfXXhxrr67nmcYhswrRn4z1hCsvDYxPMd-e_spo9FQxvl3alC/w686-h324/bridges.png" width="686" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">I hate to write about driving, roads, and bridges when our goal is people and special places, but you can't have a road trip without that trio. And of course, vehicles; vehicles of all sorts, colors, sizes and purposes. One of the more intriguing items traveling down the highways are the fins for the wind chargers. They are huge! </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Usually we see them on the Interstate just going straight but today I saw three or four actually come from a side road and go up the ramp to the Interstate. Not only did each one have a lead-car and a follow-car but there were about three persons with stop signs stopping and directing traffic as these monster long trucks turned up the ramps. The frame between the front part of the rig and the back set of wheels was probably, at least twice the length of a normal semi-trailer, but the tip stuck out half again as far. I'm impressed with the skill to move one of those fins.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I spent the morning at an RV service shop. I had a list of about a half dozen items to consider but we focused primarily on the electricity. The AC hasn't worked properly and the refrigerator doesn't hold a cool temperature. I asked to sit in a corner of the covered wagon and stay out of the way, but the technician, a cool young man,Perry, would ask questions like "Where is the inverter switch?" and I was eager to learn so I became fully involved. The fresh water tank leaked at the beginning of the trip and so that was on the list. The black water tank after we drain it still registers 3 out of 4 dots full and there were some missing knobs.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">We started with the electricity and we ended with the eletririty. He disconnected, tested and reconnected all the batteries, even the one hidden under the driver's feet,. They are all good. I drew my own solution on the refrigerator: make certain the 120v switch is on because the 12v option just isn't hacking it. The solution to the AC is "don't run it" unless we're connected to a land line. The fresh water tank is a huge project and could take days so we set that aside. The missing knobs weren't available and the solution to the black water tank was to not use the envelopes of cleanser (the bags don't fully dissolve and affect the sensors) but add ice which when driving will break up the poop and then melt to be pumped out.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">So when it came to paying the bill after two hours, the report sounded like nothing was done and so the bill (I was shocked and pleased) was $22 and that included a better solvent for the black water tank. So if you're ever in Waco, Texas with an RV with a problem that can't be solved, I strongly recommend Crestview RV.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">After that intriguing morning, if nothing else I learned a lot about testing the batteries, I picked up Charlie and Gail and we made our final and third visit with Gail's sister. It certainly was bitter sweet to have the opportunity to see her despite her inability to fully connect with us, and it might be the "final" visit. She's 93.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Back on the road, it was God, Gail and I against thousands of vehicles and many more bumps in construction sites. As we drove through Dallas with the thick cluster of skyscrapers in the downtown financial district, Charlie woke up, sat up and started barking at all the structures and traffic. Charlie, I'm with you.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The storms you hear about on national weather news are one day in front of us. We're safe but after last night's storms in northern Texas, it is now a sweltering 94˚. So we're stopped in a WalMart near Denison, Texas (almost Oklahoma) to kick back and cool our heels. We have two families in Arkansas on the agenda for tomorrow.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Oh, yes, the landscape north of Waco is beautiful farmland: green, lush and flat.</span></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227765989814809723.post-12493716585036950972022-04-04T20:57:00.002-07:002022-04-04T20:57:35.241-07:00Betty<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzh_OpNs_d1VtufOccymwWyrKmusyd-wWuNZAMCr7FIxKEbVzNdB02pO7EzSUJYumSMjCTJW8wgWh3qurBRmp_2rOpCd5FUeSfVLw3cvbZk5Ag5yAepTVMUxazjV759-8JT-rPbBaLwZiM4JL5fGJBH_tUzoKcgdXGV8g3fwy2AyFL5xSM8SZJGET9/s1000/betty.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="1000" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzh_OpNs_d1VtufOccymwWyrKmusyd-wWuNZAMCr7FIxKEbVzNdB02pO7EzSUJYumSMjCTJW8wgWh3qurBRmp_2rOpCd5FUeSfVLw3cvbZk5Ag5yAepTVMUxazjV759-8JT-rPbBaLwZiM4JL5fGJBH_tUzoKcgdXGV8g3fwy2AyFL5xSM8SZJGET9/w626-h295/betty.png" width="626" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">One primary goal in this trip is to visit with Betty, Gail's sister. Since the last time we saw her she has moved from her home in Florida </span><span style="font-family: arial;">to a memory care community close to her daughter Nancy in Texas. we have n=met that goal. We spent a short hour with her Sunday afternoon and another this morning with a </span><span style="font-family: arial;">third visit planned for tomorrow. Another big change since we last saw her is her memory; it very difficult for her to remember much or to formulate thoughts into sentences. It was a delight to know that she remembered us. Gail often says I was one of her favorites. And she's one of mine.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It's hard to accept the idea that this vibrant healthy beautiful caring woman can't put together a full thought or remember her children. During the first visit we sat outside and were graciously offered some very stale pretzels and water by the staff. She noticed the flowers needed watering. We love her dearly and struggled to just nod when we couldn't clearly understand her.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This morning Gail and I stopped by alone without Betty's daughter. We were told she was playing dominoes which meant that a set of tiles were lying on the table before three residents. It appeared that the best they could do was put the tiles back in the box. We chatted for awhile and excused ourselves as the noon meal was about to be served. We'll return for one more visit tomorrow.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Terry, Nancy and we went out to a Texas BBQ brisket this evening. We were forewarned that there were both excellent and not so good reviews. As we entered the restaurant we were greeted with a young lady on a mic, "Table for three?" They were having karaoke night. It was very loud inside and the selected song was not of our era so we asked for a table outside but the settings outside were all tall with stools with hard small seats. The food was so-so and we left for softer seats in the car.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Now there are 4 seconds remaining in the final March Madness game with leading team leading by 3 points but the other team has the ball. It's over. Kansas won! Thanks for the big screen and great company.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><br /> <p></p>Denvy and Gailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13558482155992782488noreply@blogger.com0