Monthly Archives: May 2012

The Great Beyond……or Great Yarmouth

We have been on the road now for four days. The things we have seen can only be described as awesome. This land we live in is incredibly huge, beautiful and so much bigger than any of us can imagine. The only way to truly see it is on the land God has given us, one tire rotation at a time.

Day 1 — Stopped at In & Out with at least half of SoCal. The ladies room was totally terminal; by that I mean that the line went out the double doors. Terry, being the gentleman he is, offered the men’s room. Me, being in dire need of a potty, accepted. When I was done, the two ladies behind me, one in a wheel chair, accepted also.  We also saw the first of the Rolling Turd family; those rental RV’s a la Robin Williams.

Day 1 —Paris, ah Paris. Not in France, but in Vegas. All of the casinos on the strip are like wandering through different worlds. Paris has the flavor of France, but it just isn’t quite. I do love the archetechture, the Neo-Gothic, Art Nuveau of the turn of the 19th century Paris. The draw back to it, well to all the casinos, is the smoke and the noise. The incredible walls of people ebbing and flowing up and down the strip. ‘Course, it is Memorial weekend too. Hmmmm, could be a factor.

Day 2 — On our way to Best Friends Animal Sanctuary just outside of Kanab, Utah.  OMG!! Zion!! This is only one of the massive federal parks out in the west. This is so difficult to describe, no words can truly explain the feeling of being so very, very small an item in this incredibly huge space. Thanks to the lady at the deli counter in ST. George’s Albertson’s telling us to go through the park. At the end of this I will attempt to write the poem that flowed from my pen and my spirit as we traveled through these catherdrals of stone.

Best Friends — What another of those beautiful places around every corner! A place for Paws indeed. Actually for all animals who need sanctuary from man’s harshness.

Angel’s Rest — Oh! My sweet Lord, what a beautiful place for our four-legged furry friends to sleep in! I asked them all at the Rest for forgiveness for not taking the best of care of some of my furry friends who have passed over the Rainbow Bridge. Forgiveness and absolution.

It is a beautiful, peaceful, love and tears filled place. Wind chimes gently tinkle in the breezes or when touched by a hand softly brushed over them.

But OH! The heart wrench when a colloris looped over a name plate next to a stone. The tears flowed there. But not all sad tears. There is joy there. Most of all incredible love abounds, wrapping around the wounds and spaces in hearts and filling them with furry paws, fluffly feathers and some really cute piggy feet.

Day 3 — The west is big—not just in space but in feeling, in vistas, in the open sky. I understand now Mom why you had to come back. All your teaching and talking about California and the west; I see now. Not only the terrain, the incredible natural phenomonen; it the space it gives to the spirit that the mind follows. No limits. An opening of being. A peace to truly know the Creator of the Universe.

The meadows off the side of the road remind me of Tuscany. Complete with the doe standing at the edge having a morning snack.

North Rim of the Grand Canyon. Another of those huge expanses of space between the huge canyon walls, it puts you into persective of how small and truly little each human being is in the universe. Small but loved greatly by the Creator.

Monumnet Valley – Where is the Duke?? He should be here, guiding us through on his sorrel. Here there is flowing rock hills in shades of red and grey.

Mexican Hat – Nestled next to the San Juan river on its way to the Colorado. Mom stayed here on some of her trips back and forth from California to Ohio.

Rocky Mountains – Huge, snow still under the trees in almost June, expanses of rock, sand, trees and more rocks.  Straight up they go, right to beyond the clouds. And of course the river. Passed the Continental Divide in the Eisenhower Tunnel.

Today we are resting in Nebraska. A beautiful little Inn next to I-80, a surprise find of refinement (a valet cart), restfulness, free breakfast (!) and coffee in the room.

Tomorrow is Iowa and Macksburg. Then on to Chicago??? Then Flint.

Sorry, poem is not quite finished yet.  Will post next time if it is done.






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Vegas……………..and Beyond!

Well, tomorrow is the big day.  The Great American Road Trip will begin at approximately ten in the morning.  Beginning in Vegas, the points east.  All the way across these United States.  I like to think of it as a modern update of National Lampoon’s Vacation, sans  Chevy and company.

The dogs are well taken care off, the homestead is watched over, the car is ready and I am almost there. Pepper is at my feet as I type this, sighing and looking up at me with those super-sad puppy eyes.  Yuri just won’t talk to me. I need to pack, but it seems to be almost cruel to Da Boys to start putting stuff in the suitcase in front of them.

I have a few little things left to take care of, things for my house and my boys. But right now I am sitting here in my living room looking out my front windows at the California Gold bougainvillea blooming in my tiny garden next to the lavender swaying in the breeze. I shall miss my little house. I know when this twenty days is done coming home will be like a long heavy sigh as one sinks into their own bed.

Next stop Vegas……..and Beyond!!






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Garden Time

Garden Time.

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Garden Time

Norma and I sat on the patio yesterday, drinking tea as the twilight got a bit deeper each moment. A hummer came buzzing over the fence to hover and drink at Four Frogs Fountain. The little one flitted and fluttered and buzzed around for so very long as we watched in pleasurably stunned silence. She had had her fill of the Mexican Sage over the wall so she dipped over to have a sip at the fountain. It was a moment suspended in Garden Time.

She seemed to want to see us as much as we wanted to see her. She checked out all the things hanging from the patio cover; the little round light bulbs, the viney plant attaching itself to the light cord, the little black dog who was so taken aback by what looked to him like the absolutely biggest bug he ever saw! Poor Pepper! When his wits returned enough to prompt him to do something, hers were working quicker. He leaped up to smack his mouth at her and she buzzed his head! Whoa! He said. That bug is not playing the Preditor/Prey game right at all.  It is supposed to fly away from me when I do that, not dive bomb me!!

Norma and I looked at each other across the vignette unfolding in front of us and just smiled. Ms. Hummer flitted a bit longer around the dappled patio then flew off to her humming-bird business.

The patio interlude was the perfect soothing moment to a weekend of stress, upset and down right angst for both Norma and I. She has what seems to be the beginnings of Alzheimer’s which can make her frustrated over what she just can’t remember, which makes her upset, which can make her confused. To sit on the patio in the shade with a light soft breeze and enjoy the visit of Ms. Hummer was a blessing for her troubled mind. For me to be privileged to be a witness to her ablution from God was a blessing all its own.

I have my own set of stresses right now. I am struggling with getting a dog sitter for my two dogs. It is difficult for me to leave them first of all and even harder for me to trust someone else with their care. They look up at me with their trusting innocence and my heart melts. It is like a Mom with a couple of two-year olds, not just anyone will do to watch over my boys.

You see, I am going on the Great American Road Trip this Saturday, driving from SoCal to Michigan. I will be gone for over two weeks. Da Boys need a competent, caring, responsible, dog-loving care giver. God help me find that special person.

I shall keep you all posted as to how this unfolds. I know that positive thinking, trust in the God of the Universe will carry the day. Right now, I am in a dither over my two puppies and their special caregiver.


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Beautiful, beautiful Boy

First, let me say Happy Birthday to you. I can’t believe it has been 39 years since you came into my life. Sitting here typing this my mind is casting up scenes from your childhood. Smiles, tears, joys and deep sorrows you have had to endure and enjoy.

A Gramma who loved you so much she would conspire with you against “the White Settlement”, which was me. The Run Away Days she managed to pull off to be able to share things with you. The day she held onto your hand while you, hmmm, shall we say protested a rule you did not agree with; there you were twisting and turning and flipping and flopping and she just held onto that hand. You finally said to her “let me go”; she said ” when you stop and listen”. Not long after that you did just that.

A Mom who sometimes just felt so very, very inadequate to be able to teach you anything. Oh Tom, you were so quick to get things, so swift to cut to the heart of the matter. And sometimes so closed up within your self.

I have made some truly collosal mistakes in my life, too many of them effected you and Jim in ways that I would love to be able to take back those mistakes and do things right. In trying to make it the way I perceived it should have been I missed the glorious beauty of what was right in front of me. Not so any more, I see the Beautiful Boy I had on that Mother’s Day so long ago has grown into a sterling, fine young man. A wonderful husband; hard when there was no one to see do that well. A superb father, another of those things you had to dig down deep inside of you to find the way. A great son, one who by rights should still be angry at a mother who was so very, very stupidly lost on the wrong path for way too long.

I love you. So much sometimes it brings tears to my eyes, like right now when the typing of this is blurry. I am proud of your accomplishments in this life, proud for it was all you, your determination, your stamina, your strength and your abilities.

May Sunday be a shinningly superb day for you. Even though as you told me so long ago, you have to share it with all the mother’s in the world! Think of yourself as surrounded by the love of all of us.

Love you!!!

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In this world of ours, the focus being on youth, there seems to be little or no place for us ‘mature’ people. It even gets down to haircuts! If you look on the web for them the only thing that comes up for those over a certain age is a Judi Dench two-inch pixie! Now, please everyone, don’t be sending me back comments about how you love Judi, so do I, I am just not quite ready for the shorter than short hair cut.

This problem laps over into clothes too. If you have been blessed with a tiny figure and can wear them, you can go to those teenage friendly stores with the music blaring and slip into the skinny pants and flimsy belly revealing tops. The real sticky part is trying your best to be honest with yourself about how you truly look in those MTV outfits.  After a certain age, it just doesn’t look quite right to attempt to bounce around in public with Junior High clothes on!

On the other hand I am not ready for the Clothes for Mature Women stores either.  I can on occasion find some nice tops in those stores, usually the ones that are what the ladies behind the counter say are their “more bold items”. Hmmm, bold indeed! They are just not the ones the seventy-somethings pick.

So, here I am, not young, but not on the shelf yet and I cannot find a decent idea for a flattering haircut or a nice outfit to wear for special occasions.  Wearing a size 8 should afford me more to pick from than Teenybobber and Older-than-dirt!

If I was a designer, or even knew one, I would bug them until I could get their attention. Good clothes that look good on you are not just for the young.  The idea of being able to slip into something that feels good and looks good is not foreign for someone not in the twenty-something era.

As for haircuts; I look better in longer hair. The longer cuts you see at the salons and on the web are on women that cannot be more than thirty at the most! With the exceptions of Judi and Helen and one or two others.  I do not want to look like I am stuck in 1967, I want to look like I love being in 2012.

Ah well, back to quest. I know myself well enough by this time that I will find what I am looking for eventually. I found two hair stylists who will take my ramblings about a cut I saw and translate that into a beautiful cut on my head. That is a blessing. Only one more to go, finding a clothes shop that really sees us Boomergirls as beautiful too. I’ll pass that on if I find it!

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