My time spent back in Texas was dominated by trying to replace my electronic arsenal, piece by piece. This was even more frustrating considering that when it comes to electronics, the old adage “They just don’t make ‘em like they used to” seems to ring true in every case. The new laptop has a less optimal screen and cheaper plastic. The new iphones are gigantic, weighting down my pants pocket. And the ipod, once a phenomenal music storage workhorse designed to fit in the tiniest of places now exists Continue reading
Back to Texas after four months away, and the Winnie was like I never left it. Central Texas had an unusually cold winter with single digit temps, so it’s always a relief to hear the water pump roar to life while filling the lines, then stop once it’s done its job, not to be heard from until summoned for duty once again.
Those who know me know that I am not a big fan of my native state. I always felt like I was the oddball in one of those “Which one is not like the others” games. It took leaving Continue reading
During my southerly migration from Maine back to Texas, I had a chance to kick a few items out of the bucket. Here are some things seen along the way: Continue reading
One would think a month living in the Winnie parked down on the farm in Texas would be enough time to get the blog caught up. But there were farm chores to do, families to visit, projects to complete, and adventures to experience.
I hauled off and burned enough tree trunks and limbs to warrant notifying the fire department beforehand. I reconciled a few storage sheds and helped my brother Don install some 8’ X 12’ sliding doors on the equipment shed. I got both my passport and my tetanus shot renewed for another ten years. And got my Mom’s dog Annie Continue reading
The Winnie traveled across ten different states in 2016, the last being the least desirable. No offense to my family, athough Texas is my birthplace, anyone who knows me knows I’m not a fan for many reasons. If my Mom and niece would only relocate, I’d be like Thelma and Louise, driving across the four contiguous states just to avoid driving through it.
It’s 500 miles from the state line to the family farm, every one of them Continue reading
Some might be wondering (in fact, even I am wondering!) why someone would come to a place named “Desert Hot Springs” when it is already hot. Who wants to soak in a hot springs when it’s ninety-six degrees hot?? My friend John got it halfway right in his comment on my last post. He writes, “Sounds like you’re looking for a place to park the rig for a while, while you take a walk on the wild side.” Only half was true. I was looking for a place to park the rig… Continue reading
…when they Take to the Highway
A song that they sing when they take to the sea.
A song that they sing of their home in the sky,
Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep,
But singing works just fine for me.
I haven’t felt much like singing lately. Consequently, I haven’t felt much like blogging either. Continue reading
For several years, my parents have had a hive of bees living in between the walls of their storage shed, painted to look like a red barn, therefore appropriately referred to as “The Red Shed.” No one knows how they got there, but Mom remembers seeing a swarm arrive one day, so thick it darkened the sky. Shortly thereafter, they started noticing increasing numbers of bees inside and around the shed. Continue reading
Since having retired last October, I have on more than one occasion been chided for being on “perpetual vacation.” To that, I say, “What the heck’s wrong with a perpetual vacation??” After all, I worked long and hard to earn “time off for good behavior.” So why give it up so soon? Maybe I will get to that point eventually, but for now, I still enjoy “vacation mode.” Continue reading
It’s been over two months since my last blog post. One might think by now that I would be out of the habit of keeping the blog. And most days, they would be right. I often think I won’t update the blog again. It’s a waste of time. As Willie would sing, “You cain’t make a record if you ain’t got nuthin’ to say.” But if I am truthful with myself, I miss writing so much it hurts. Like so many things in my life, there doesn’t seem to be a middle ground. I have always preferred it that way. Anything but lukewarm mediocrity. So the mood swings from “Never again!” to “How could I possibly not? Continue reading