Category Archives: America

Billy the Kid

Before I begin, here is your Monday Public Service Announcement:

Happy Monday. Have a great rest of the week. I love you. I appreciate you.

When I lived in Albuquerque, I started working on a book of poetry about Billy the Kid, aka William H. Bonney, aka Henry McCarty—his birth name. I was still in the research stage when life happened, and I moved back to Kennewick, and became involved in other things. I still dream of going back to New Mexico, Fort Sumner, etc., and doing research, and writing the poems, but then, I’m a dreamer, eh?

In the meantime, someone in my critique group recommended a book last year, Coming Through Slaughter, a fictionalized biography of New Orleans jazz pioneer Buddy Bolden and is partly set in Slaughter, Louisiana, by Michael Ondaatje. I enjoyed the book, so when I found The Collected Works of Billy the Kid also by Michael Ondaatje, I had to read it, too. And I was not disappointed!

There is not a great deal known about Billy, but there is some information out there, and Ondaatje did a marvelous job of using what little is known as a springboard for his poetry and prose. It reads like a journal, or maybe a better description is a collection of his (Billy’s) papers, what were found, often without beginning or ending. Some of the poems actually have titles, or at least attribution as to who wrote them, as “Miss Sallie Chisum” by Sallie Chisum describing Billy “As far as dress was concerned / he always looked as if / he had just stepped out of a bandbox.” She goes on to describe his clothing, finishing with, “he was the pink of politeness / and as courteous a little gentleman / as I ever met.” From what I’ve found about Billy in what little research I’ve accomplished, this was a fairly accurate description of him.

By many accounts I’ve read, Billy was a gentleman, at least where the ladies were concerned. He dressed well, he was polite, he was bi-lingual (English and Spanish) and possibly tri-lingual. There is some information out there he spoke Gaelic, probably learned at his mother’s knee.

If you’re looking for a good and plausible book about Billy, I highly recommend The Collected Works of Billy the Kid. It’s great fun. If you’re looking for a scholarly account of the young man’s life, this isn’t for you. And yes, there is the conspiracy that Garrett shot the wrong man, claimed he was Billy, buried him, and collected the reward and that Billy once again escaped, made it to Mexico or someplace, lived a quiet life as a law-abiding citizen, married, and had a family, etc., etc., etc. Billy was a master at aliases and escapes, so this isn’t entirely unbelievable.

Oh, and in the interest of transparency, or just kinda interesting stuff, when Daddy was a youngster, he met a man who knew Pat Garret who is credited with killing Billy the Kid. We are closer to history than we sometimes realize.

My Friday

Those of you who know me, know I’m not really a morning person. Oh, I get up early enough, because when I wake up enough to answer the early morning calls of bladder and dog, I’m up. I try not to get up before 4am, but sometimes it’s earlier, and if I go back to bed, I just lie there for a couple of hours and I might as well be up and at the computer with my cuppa joe. Like this morning, Sunday. Yes, I’m up, but I’m not cognizant, I’m not ready for thinking, for talking, for doing much beyond watching something on the computer and maybe, if I’m lucky, getting a few words written on the virtual paper before me. Somewhere around 9am, I actually become functionally awake 😉

So, this past Friday, I signed up for a poetry workshop, that started at my time of 7am. It was something like 3 hours long, and very interesting. I actually got 4 poems written during that time. No, they are not ready to be abandoned, but they are good enough to warrant some editing and maybe submission. Then, later that afternoon, I attended my weekly workshop of prompts, and wrote two more poems, also pretty good first drafts. Aren’t you glad I don’t share all the poetry I write with you? Since 1 Jan this year, I’ve written 90. Boy Howdy, do I know how to have fun!!! 😉

How Many Days Until Mid-Term Elections?

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! You really think we’re going to have them? Nope, they ain’t gonna happen, my gentle families and friends. That’s why we’re in an undeclared-by-Congress war, so the Unnamed Person can claim an emergency, and take over and cancel elections, or have them with his goons manning polling places. Yep, we’re closer to history than we realize.

(Please, prove me wrong. Please, please, please.)

be happy, be well, be safe!

The New and Improved Republican version of the ACA

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Well, this has been a long time coming. Something like 15 -16 years, if memory serves me correctly. At my age, that is always suspect. Honest. Trust me.

One of many accomplishments President Obama gave us was the Affordable Care Act health insurance. Two of the best things about the ACA were the affordability, especially with the subsidies, and that people with pre-existing conditions could not be refused insurance. That alone makes it worth while in my oh-so-humble opinion.

From the day the ACA passed, Republicans have been rather bellicose they had a new and improved health insurance ready, and it would be presented to the public in a couple of weeks. Well, after all these years’ worth of “two-weeks” the very stable genius has come up with a marvelous solution—send everyone $2,000 and let them buy what they want.

I can see a couple of things wrong with that before I’ve finished my first cuppa the morning: 1. they won’t find any insurance willing to take pre-existing conditions for that amount of money and 2. people will spend the money on frivolous things like groceries which they also can’t afford but the effect on their families is more immediate.

Believe me, I don’t want to have to go out into the open market and look for insurance. Nothing would please the insurance companies more than to have this become law. The system will be gamed, if not by the big companies, by all the start-ups that will come along to help take your money, but deny you benefits. (When did I become such a cynical old lady?)

I hope this bill, if it passes, does not affect you, or anyone you know. Healthcare should be a right of everyone in this country, not just the fortunate few.

Speaking of health and insurance coverage, how would you feel, let along think, about having a computer diagnose your illness?

Because MDs went to school for several years to learn medicine, and how to best practice it to get and keep their patients healthy, and now find themselves in the examining room with their medically ignorant congressman/congresswoman standing just behind and to the side of them, telling them what they can and cannot prescribe. Medicine D, M, and Z are authorized, but none of the others especially if one of the others will help the patient even though the others are what common sense and good medicine tell the MD s/he needs to prescribe.

MDs have left not just certain states, but the entire country to go to other countries where they are not just allowed to practice good medicine but are expected to practice good medicine. This has left many areas, especially rural areas and towns in what are called medical deserts.

And now, our doctors who have stayed, are over worked. And when those people living in a medical desert need help, they may have to deal with Dr. Computer for diagnosis, and prescriptions. My PCP belongs to a clinic which is part of a hospital, which in turn belongs to an ever-larger hospital network. Do I need to make an appointment? Ask my medical team a non-emergency question? I must log into a data base. Then I must choose from a menu, and ever more, if I need to send a message, I must do it through Grace, the database’s AI. Of course, she only understands a portion of what I’m asking, because I refuse to take my simple request down to one syllable words, with no more than four words per sentence. Eventually she gives me a command to type the word Message in the box, and then, I am given the new screen which says she will forward my message to my medical team.

I am not fond of a lot of AI, and yet, I am very fond of some of it. I can take a picture of a duck in my pond, click on the correct button in my phone, and find out what kind of duck it is. Same with plants. And I’ve just discovered I can click on a 3D button next to my photo, a light scrolls up the picture, and voila! it’s in 3D. It’s amazing. Of course, I’m relatively confident that Auto-Correct is also AI. And we all know what I think of that, don’t we?

A friend tells me there is nothing to fear in AI, it’s only a tool. But who is using the tool? How are they using it? I just finished reading The Worlds I See: curiosity, exploration, and discovery at the dawn of AI by Dr. Fei-Fei Li, professor of computer science, Stanford University, and founding director, Stanford Institute for Human-Centered AI.

Li’s book is a double memoir. It is the memoir of her family coming to America from China when she was in high school, and her memoir of fascination with physics and how she became one of the movers and shakers of the founding of AI. I found it well written, riveting in the way she wrote about herself and family and seamlessly moved into school and profession. After finishing her book, I have less fear of AI, though there are some out there who would use it if given the opportunity, in nefarious ways.

Because of the work she has done with the medical community, I think I have less fear of Dr. Computer than I may otherwise have, but my fear of Grace, and having to go through her is extant. I easily envision Grace telling me, I must allow all my information into the AI database or I cannot continue. I have no problem seeing Grace tell a patient they do not qualify to talk to Dr. Computer as they have a pre-existing condition of in-grown toenails. Dr. Computer, if one can ever get to her/him, does not have history with the patient. I well remember years ago when I told my gynecologist that I got headaches that would bring an elephant to its knees every month, and he said, “take Tylenol.” Yeah, doc, did you read my chart? I’m freaking allergic to Tylenol! (Last time I went to him.) But my PCP said, “I know you. You do not have an addictive personality. Here’s a prescription for Percodan (four pills) and Imitrex (two pills). The next time you get the headache, take an Imitrex. If not gone in 20 minutes, take the second Imitrex. If not gone in 20 minutes, take a Percodan.” Ten minutes after the second Imitrex, I nearly passed out at the sudden cessation of pain. Quickest way he’d ever found to determine if my headaches were migraines (they were) or something more testing would be needed on (not). How do you talk with a Computer?

So, in order to get your $2,000 check, how many new and existing insurance companies will send you to Dr. Computer, the only MD on their approved list at your rate of pay, who will hang up once s/he tells you to take Aspirin (I think Tylenol is on RFK’s s**t list now.) and if you call back to remind the AI that you’re allergic, or have tried it, another visit is logged against you.

The Orange Pustule said something the other day about his moral authority being the only check on his actions he needs. Once again, I’m terrified of the hands who wields AI.

If you enjoy TED Talks, check this one out, Fei-Fei Li, AI pioneer.

And, yes, there are entertainments in AI that brings smiles. At least I think it’s AI.

Great Blue Heron helps himself to our little frogs. Claw and beak in real time out my office window.

What Did Sheri S. Tepper Know, and How Did She Know It?

An Open Letter to Adult Children of Parents of a Senior Age

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Are your parents ageing in place? Are they losing physical abilities? Mental abilities? Has the time come for them to move to whatever city you live in so you can more easily care for them?

Might I suggest you consider changing the game? YOU move to be near them. Yes, I know, they’re retired, and you’ve found a marvelous retirement home just a few miles down the road where they can be with other people their age, they can take up golf (they’ve never expressed an interest in golf, but still, they can do it), they have two busses to take them to doctor’s appointments, etc., did I mention there are lots of people their age to play cards with, visit with, knit with, yadda, yadda, yadda…

Just because they are of an age doesn’t make them instant friends. I can’t think of anything worse than moving in with a bazillion old farts and fartesses. They tend to have two major topics of conversation: 1. their bodily functions and 2. their children who parked them there and never come to visit. Oh, and remember the cliques of grade school? They thrive in retirement homes!

I know you love your parents, and you care about them, and want to see them happy, but pulling them from a town they know, from people they know, and moving them to someplace else is a way for you to assuage your guilt, not to show your love for Mom and Pop.

Can you imagine going to the dining room to eat and find yourself either unable to break into an established clique to eat with someone whose company you might enjoy while eating, only to then find yourself mired in a conversation of bowel movements—color, consistency, or lack thereof, or the complaint brigade whose children never come and seldom call? Or, if you moved them into the place with the golf course, which they don’t use, being stuck at a table of avid golfers. That’s what you want to inflict upon Mom and Pop.

It’s hard moving from a place where you’ve lived for years, made roots, have friends, and go someplace where you know no one. I know. I’ve done it. And I sought out areas with a good mix of ages. As irritating as those short-legged people with high pitched voices can be, they make me smile, and I would NOT want to live anyplace without them. They help keep me young.

What do your parents love doing? Quilting? Writing? Open Mic readings? Going to the museums? Sitting in the park and watching people? Go out to eat at their ethnic restaurants? Plein air art? Watching High School football? Going to the University for mind limbering classes?

Consider looking at apartments downtown, preferable ones with a wide range of tenant age, where they can walk to the grocery store, take advantage of public transportation, walk to parks to watch and listen to kids run and play, lovers walk arm in arm, visit museums, go to outside venues for music, art, etc., where they can make friends of different ages, and stay younger, longer.

There is one other idea that needs to be discussed—that of the Parent of a Certain Age moving to be closer to her children. It does seem to be mothers who wish to be closer to their nuclear family, especially if Mom is widowed or divorced, and grandchildren are young. I’ve known several women who moved to be near their children, and grands, selling homes they loved, leaving friends of years, etc., only to get moved in, and have the chosen child get a better job a thousand miles down the road. One case I know is the chosen child moved clear across the country. Mom followed. Chosen One moved back. Mom followed. I have no idea if Chosen One has moved, again, but those moves were expensive. For all.

So, if you want your folks to move near you, ask what they want. And listen. And be realistic in the amount of time you are willing to spend with them. Have a date night with your partner every week? Set one up with your folks! Take them out, show them their new town, take them to dinner, the theater, whatever they choose. Make that night sacrosanct as your date night. If they don’t want the old folk’s home, don’t forget downtown apartments.

Whither Thou Goest

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Thank you all my Brothers and Sisters who wore the Uniform when called upon to do so. You and your families are appreciated.

Click below to listen.

Weather in the Tries:
A tad warmer most nights, in the low-mid 40s with the highs in the mid to upper 50s. I don’t mind the really cold temps so much, but they are hard on the Desert Dog. I worry about his little bare feets on the cold concrete. He truly does not like booties or sweaters.

“If You Can Survive Basic, You Can Survive Anything!”
On the 13^th of September 1965, I raised my hand for the first of what would become four swearings-in. The first two were for the Women’s Army Corps (WAC), the second two for the Washington Air National Guard (WANG). To be honest, I don’t remember the first one very much. But I do remember what my Recruiter, SFC Annie B. Hawkins told us gals who were enlisting—If we could survive Basic, we could survive anything. I’ve held onto that saying more times than I can count.

I survived childbirths, a miscarriage, disappointments large and small, but right now, I feel like I’ve been picked up and dropped into an alternate universe where the language is the same, the buildings, the maps, the times, are all what I’m used to, but the government is about to change into something more horrifying than I’ve ever seen outside of a history book. Or in a book by HP Lovecraft or Harlan Ellison and I have no idea how to navigate the almost-upon-us nightmare of the waking day.

I have family, both by blood and choice, who are immigrants, who are Muslim, who are gay or lesbians, who are trans, who do not worship the god of the victor. The new regime, of king OP, actually, hates all of them, sight unseen. He has promised to take children from their parents, especial parents of the same sex.

I am utterly amazed at the number of people who think in four years we’ll vote him out. OMG! Were they not listening? IF there is an election in four years, it will be as free as they are in Russia and Turkey and North Korea. Stop thinking in the old terms of four-year election cycles. That time has passed. As the famous opossum once said, “We have met the enemy and he is us.” I looked it up to be sure. I remember it slightly differently, but this is the quote online. I remember it as being slightly ungrammatical, but hey, what good is history if not to revise/whitewash it? And in four years if we do have an election I imagine our choice will consist of either Vance or Junior.

The situation kind of reminds me of a short story I wrote in high school. I think I was a Senior, maybe a Junior. And my mom actually allowed me to use her typewriter. Anyhow, if I find the gumption, I may record it and put it Spoken Word. It’s short enough to be considered flash fiction by some. (less than 1500 words)

On the Beach by Nevile Shute had come out, and I was pretty impressed. Probably because the scenes in the movie where the submarine came up in San Francisco, in the book they came up in Puget Sound, and Shute described the Sound and the shore as it was. Really. He had a Pepsodent billboard someplace and I’d seen it where he had it. In fact, most if not all of the places he mentioned in Puget Sound, I’d been too, or seen. Kinda creepy. And for sure scary.

Anyhow, I wrote the short story, “Whither Thou Goest,” taped two aspirin to the cover (I filed off identifying marks so they looked like the cyanide pills in the movie), and let one of my teachers read it. I just found it squirreled away in my computer, and hey, for a kid, it’s not half bad. Boy Howdy! I hope it remains fiction!!! But I make you no promises.

So, I’ve survived all sorts of rejection letters, some from very prestigious presses, the collapse of marriages and affairs, nine years, five months, and twenty-three days in uniform—full and part time, the birth of two kids who I love dearly, and by gawd! I survived Basic Training! To quote one of the 3.5 Justices on the Supreme Court, “I resist!”

Photo of the Week:
Remember a few weeks ago when I was on my trip? Well, the Northern Lights were displaying in Massachusetts, and Virginia, and other states where they are seldom seen. Ibrahim, the son of my Good Friend Dixie stepped outside his abode in Gilford, New Hampsire at 7.30 pm and got this shot of them, and gave me permission to show them. Many thanks, Ibrahim. I’ve seen them a couple of times, and they were a pale green. These were pale red, showed much darker in the camera eye than they were to his eye. If you look, you can see stars.

from the desk of the brave dog:
Sammy says he doesn’t much feel like writing anything. he too is hurting this week.

Some videos you might like:
Los Kjarkas a Bolivian group of musicians: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jhcUUIaMb6s

Some super crispy chicharrones and how to make them: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OUSs0emMQ9s

A short video by Professor Tribe. I admit I slept a bit better the night I saw this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z06TJAMY-bo

And this one will bring a smile or two. Professor Kotaro gets a sushi train for his birthday! Frankly, I’m surprised Hana let him have any of it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QlBdK155pW8

Mitákuye Oyás’iŋ “We are all related” ~ Lakota Saying
“Re-examine all you have been told. Dismiss what insults your soul.” ~Walt Whitman

Some Sun, Some Sanity (?), Some Lagniappe

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I figure, even though it’s early, many of us could use some bright and cheery in our lives right now, so here are the rest of the photos. Just for you.

We spent a couple hours at the pool in the complex where Maryann and Dave live. Since I still had a scab on my toe where the railroad spikes were pulled out, I watched from the shady sidelines;-)

After the gals were finished, Maryann took us to the restaurant, also at the same complex. The food was yummy and the views spectacular. Oh, there is also a golf course, but the grass here is not part of it.

Maryann’s daughter and beloved son in law

Goodest Friends, Maryann, Linda, and moi.

The drive from Tucson to Henderson NV was pleasant. I’m going to have to get a city map of Phoenix and environs because I honestly don’t know where I was in driving through it on the Interstate. For years, there was a funky place to eat between Phoenix and Henderson, called Rose’s, or Rosie’s. It burned down a few years ago and they rebuilt it, I thought Kay and I would go up for one of their burgers, but I didn’t see it. Come to find out, it burned down again, and they didn’t rebuild. sigh. There hamburgers were some of the best ever!!!!

This shot is from the patio of the house where Kay lives. I tried to get more planes in a shot but could never manage to get them all showing. Pretty fun watching them come in and line up for the runway which is surprisingly close.

The patio faces east, so this one must be sunrise. Why was I up that early??? I dunno.

GeriLyn, Kay’s daughter in law and Tod took us out to a delightful Italian restaurant my last night there. GeriLynn works in the same complex the restaurant is in, and knows the people there. We were treated quite well, and the food was scrumptious. We were served very special desserts. The manager is also an artist and gave us each a different picture and cake. I thought the icing on the plate was part of the plate i.e. part of the china, and when I moved my plate for this photo, it smudged! Here I thought they’d bought special dessert plates. Nope, make ’em to order 😉

And here we all sit, preparing to dive in to our respective plates. Starting with Tod and going clockwise: GeriLyn, an old wanna be hippie, and Goodest Friend and Travel Buddy ever, Kay. We’ve been friends for something like 57 years!

As I pulled out of their drive, I stopped and shot a neighbor’s yard. Lots of interesting decorations. I think they can do more because they aren’t too concerned rain will spoil the decorations, and they don’t have the winds we get this time of year.

From Henderson to Castaic CA was a pretty short drive. One of the reasons I stopped there was to meet a couple of my Zoomroom poetry buddies. This photo was taken by Good Friend Elizabeth. She is at the left, holding her phone, then is Good Friend Will, and bringing up the rear is me. They life in the LA region somewhere, and fought the traffic to come meet me in person. I consider myself to be super honored. I must have been mid word when she snapped this. I really wasn’t grimacing! And my tee shirt is from a poetry group in LA, Beyond Baroque, and says: Metaphors Be With You!! I saw another tee I liked that says: I use (pix of darth vader’s mask) the / Fo R Ce / Periodically. Love it.

From Castaic it was a pretty easy shot up I-5 to Vallejo where I spent a couple of nights at my brother’s. Getting to know him a bit more was wonderful. Mostly, he sleeps all day and is up all night. That’s been his schedule for years. Anyhow, we went out for dinner at a place he’d not been too. I forgot what he had, I had a yummy salad.

Then he drove me by the Dragon House. These dragon heads are in front, I think I saw two on one side, and maybe one on the other. They are quite spectacular!

When I left a couple days later, I met another Zoomroom buddy who lives fairly close, for breakfast at a place she likes, then we went to a small, indie Book Store, The Alibi. Great little store. If you’re ever in it, stop by and buy a book. Multiple book purchases are appreciated. Alas no photos of Good Poet Friend Anita, or the store, or the restaurant. I hadn’t had coffee yet. Then it was up the road about thirty minutes to stay a few days with my cousins.

Cousin Jimmy is rightfully called Farmer Jimmy in my mind. They have a very busy back yard with pomegranate tree, bay tree, kumquat tree, and I don’t know what all. He told me, I forgot. He also grows tomatoes, herbs, and flowers. Some of his tomatoes And yes the black ones are truly black, and very tasty.

I brought one of the pomegranates home, it was delish! And, in watching him de-seed one, I finally learned how to do it without making a mess!

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I asked what this was, and he couldn’t remember, until he saw another one that still had flowers. I can’t remember, either. My phone says it’s a Red Spider Lily. My phone is not 100% accurate. But it tries.

This is their pool. When I first looked out, very early in the morning, it looked like deep water and ice. It’s a wrinkly blue plastic tarp.

Cousin Betty is married to Jimmy and Cousin Barb is his sister. We three females all quilt, so Betty had some chores to do and sent Barb and me out to buy fabric. Oh, what a horrible thing to do to a quilter, especially when with another quilter. She who dies with the most fabric WINS!! Not sure what we win, but we’re all trying to get there. We went to a resale store that sells fabric and bought fabrics galore, and I found this jacket. I love it, though the gold next to my skin isn’t so great. But with a black turtle neck it should be fine. If not, it will go into a quilt or two. I’m looking for a pattern maker who can make a pattern without cutting it apart. The cut, etc is fun. A perfect Poetry Reading jacket over black slacks and a black turtleneck.

Oh, it was $7.99! It just begged to go in my cart.

And there you have it. The truly last photos of my trip. I hope they help lighten any down you are experiencing.

I will post something on Monday. Unless I’m stuck in a rehabilitation/concentration camp by then.

Peace, Love, Hugs all around.

Part, The Last (unless it’s the penultimate one)

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Weather in the Tries:
Oooh, we be gonna dip our toes into below freezing a couple of nights coming up (OK, it’s only 31F, still…) The ays for the next week will wander around between 51F and 58F. I look at my pictures often just to get warm. And drink hot tea. Methinks Winter is approaching, with a long siege in mind.

Part, The Last (unless…)
Today’s post is mostly photos. Didn’t think you’d mind too much.

It took me a while to get this guy. We were at the park for the UNWRA 5K walk. These are from Dallas and Houston.

What’s a post without a kitty?

Red Hibiscus

Yellow flower

A ficus of some sort.

Now we skip into Arizona. (Skip phip. It was a long drive!) I’ve got an inordinate amount of shots–16 in all. Well, actually, I’ve got a lot more than that, but I narrowed them down to 16. I think I need to narrow a bit more, eh?

This is the entry to Good Friends Maryann and Dave’s house. I want one.

We went to a covered market in Tucson where they had a plethora of wonderful item for sale. This horse was one. I wonder if he was made from Saguaro ribs?

A friend of mine says she reminds him of Phyllis Diller. Isn’t she grand? I think she’s about 3′ tall. I didn’t see a price tag which is a good thing. I don’t a place to put her.

We had dinner at El Charro down the street a couple of blocks from the market. I had a ceviche tostada. The shrimp, etc were throughout the pile, not just on the outside! After dinner, we went to Cherrie’s home, and these shots were from her back yard.

This is a young saguaro. Like many little kids, he had to put everything in his mouth. He ate the moon, but apparently it didn’t tase good because he spit it out a few minutes later.

OK, that’s probably enough for today. There will be another Part, The End next week. Oh it was so warm down there. It will be warm, again, here. But not for several months.

from the desk of the brave dog;
sheesh, but i don’t understand humans. she showed me some of her pictures and there’s not a smell to them. don’t they have dogs down there. what good is it to see something and have no accompanying smells. humans..

Part, The Second

Home Again, Home Again

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Weather in the Tries:
A whole lot cooler than when I left, and where I was! Feels kinda good, actually.

Home Again, Home Again:
Had a marvelous trip. There were a couple of changes, but nothing serious, and one was quite beneficial. I remembered we had a new home to go to, but the fact the date slid one day to the right totally slipped off my eyeballs. I figured it would take 3 days for a leisurely drive from Kennewick to Dallas and the AirBNB we rented. So, as I’m leaving Kennewick on Saturday, I called Goodest Friend Dixie, back in Virginia, and told her I was on my way and would see her on Monday.

Pregnant pause: Monday? I thought we were meeting on Tuesday?!

Yep, we were. Well, I was already on the freeway and no way to turn around, so I kept going. Loverly day through Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Utah, and Wyoming. Spent Saturday night in Rawlins, Wyo. Had a loverly drive through a gray and drizzly Colorado (had a time, distance warp but me back on the Dark Side of the Cascades?). New Mexico was sunny, and Texas was a mash up. Sun, drizzle, sun, drizzle and by the time I got to Wichita Falls, it was drizzly (sort of) and dark.

NO signs on Texas highways or roads as to what’s available next exit. If you don’t know, you don’t go. I missed a whole row of motels and got off at the next exit and tried to back track. Uh, no. I stopped at an all-night grocery and asked the young man where I was. I realized the mistrake as soon as I saw the expression on his face. I laughed, told him I knew I was in Wichita Falls, and missed the last exit up the road, and wanted a motel. He assured me I could continue going north, but if I went south a few blocks, there is a very nice motel across the street from the Arby’s on the off ramp I took.

Why didn’t I see the sign for the motel? Because it was dark, and almost midnight their time, and the lights were off. Both at Arby’s and the motel. But I found it. Right where the young man who thought for a couple of moments he had a crazy lady on his hands. (Oh, if he only knew….)

It was an old Econolodge. The room was clean, neat, the bed comfy and I took it for two nights. It was also very, very quiet.

Since I was a day early I had an extra day to sight-see or sleep or whatever. Yes, I chose the last door and did whatever.

Doing Whatever:
I brought about 2.5 inches of poems printed out. That’s probably a good 400+ pages. The room had a cabinet with a large top, maybe 5-6’ x 3’. Perfect for sorting poems. I went through them, put them into 8 or so categories, then went through one more time and got rid of the obvious doubles. Then, I put each category in alphabetical order by title. Found a few more doubles. Then, I got really OCD and pulled out my file folders brought just for this, and wrote on each folder, in alphabetical order, the poems therein.

That made it much easier to find yet more duplicates. And there were some. Then, I began putting them in reading order, by category. The upshot is, I think I’ve got two books of poetry. One on Thomas and Grief, and one on everything else. I had no disruptions, I did get hungry at one point, looked at Arby’s across the street, looked at my project, and voila! I ate some of the junk food that was in my car 😉 Peanut butter filled pretzel bits, a bit of Pub Mix, and Peanut M&Ms. I opted to work and eat junk food. And water. Drank lots of water. I kept working instead of going through the old cemetery next door. Do I know how to have fun, or what?

The next morning, I checked out, and sat in the lobby reading Inside the Garden of Beasts: Love, Terror, and an American Family in Hitler’s Berlin by Erik Larson. I tried reading his book about the Devil in White City, and couldn’t get to page 60, let alone beyond, but this book was a page burner. The main reason I hung around is, I was only 3 hours from Dallas, and couldn’t check in until 3, so I sat and read.

Photo in the AirBNB:
This was a photo of a sculpture that hung in the living room. The Dallas Skyline. The art appeared to be actual size.

from the desk of the brave dog, Sammy;

my human is back, my human is back, my human—happy dance, happy dance

And there it is. More next week. Right now, it’s time for yet another nap. 😉

For those of you who followed it, here is the Opening and Closing theme to Dallas. And, no, I have no idea who shot J.R. For that matter, I’m not even too sure who J.R. is/was.

Heroes and Hallowed Ground

Coffee Break Escapes with Auntie Lenora

Short readings for short times

Category Archives: America

Billy the Kid

The New and Improved Republican version of the ACA

What Did Sheri S. Tepper Know, and How Did She Know It?

An Open Letter to Adult Children of Parents of a Senior Age

Whither Thou Goest

Some Sun, Some Sanity (?), Some Lagniappe

Part, The Last (unless it’s the penultimate one)

Part, The Second

Home Again, Home Again

Heroes and Hallowed Ground