Keeping Up With The Joneses

Coming Back Soon!

2011-06-03T08:05:00.001-07:00

The blog will be back soon!

Going Home

2011-01-28T10:25:00.001-08:00

The mountains at Flagstaff

We are on the road to Kentucky finally. At the moment we are banging down the road in Arkansas. For the last two days we seem to go from reasonably smooth highway to the Chisholm Trail and back. When we hit the rugged road everything in Mary moves and rattles, clangs, and bangs. There are metal slide latches attached to the two heavy pocket doors that separate the bedroom from the bathroom, and the bathroom from the rest of the coach. When we travel we secure the latches so the doors don't slam open and closed as we travel. Once yesterday and twice so far today (and it is only noon) the latch has rattled loose and the door slammed. You can't miss it. It sounds like someone dropped a crate of cannonballs from two stories up. I'm spending my day running back and forth from the front to the back catching things and adjusting things that are coming loose. At one point I set my laptop on the dashboard and went to get my lunch. I got all of the stuff out for a sandwich and I heard John holler over the internal commotion in Mary, "You better get your laptop!!!!" I dropped the knife in my hand and sprinted to the front. When I got up close I stepped on Breezy's rug and slid into the cockpit just in time to catch my pretty Mac before it hit the floor. It was very good timing, and quite graceful, if I do say so myself. Two seconds later it wouldn't have been so pretty. Or if I had another foot to slide on the rug, I would have ended up on my ass on the floor with my computer. It all worked out.

We left Scottsdale, reluctantly, on Wednesday morning. It was another cool sunny morning. We drove through the mountains to I-40 at Holbrook, Arizona and then on to Santa Rosa, New Mexico. John zeroed in on a sign post that said "5,000" feet and said, "Oh, the beds." I said, "Oh, the beds," and sprinted to the back to find them on 100, the highest setting. I deflated them both to 5 and returned to my seat to let my heart rate settle down. An exploded bed would be rather tragic, I think. By the time we go to Santa Rosa the chambers had blown themselves back up to 95. All of the milk cartons, juice bottles and sealed plastic containers in the refrigerator were bloated. Imagine an exploding tomato juice bottle ... no, don't.

Smiley Jones at Barrett Jackson's car auction

The weather on this trip has been good so far. We decided that we would take I-40 and drive like hell. So far we've stuck to the plan. Amazing considering our track record with plans on this trip. We went from Santa Rosa to Checotah, Oklahoma yesterday. The wind picked up a bit in Oklahoma, but considering our usual experiences with wind in Oklahoma, it wasn't too bad. We stopped in the middle of nowhere for the night, where Ransom became enchanted with some crusty organic stuff that was laying around on the ground. I'm freaky about the dogs picking something up and eating it, especially while we are traveling, without easy access to a vet. He was just bonkers last night. Three times I practically had to wrestle him to the ground to take this gunk out of his mouth. He spent the evening pestering us to go out. He didn't need to do potty business, and after Idol started we had to get a little grumpy with him about it. There must be some dog nip in Oklahoma gunk. What ever it was he was a wild man. All Breezy wanted was her dinner :)

Remember Back To The Future?

Speaking of Idol, I don't know what you Idol watchers out there think but I think this is the best season yet. I don't miss grumpy old Simon and think Steven Tyler and Jennifer Lopez are doing a great job. Randy is trying to act like Simon at times, which doesn't become him. I prefer his old dawg self. Anyway, where did they find all of these uber talented 15 year olds??? This year they have cut way back on the goofiness in the audition process (which I could do without entirely in exchange for hearing more of the people that they put through to Hollywood), and the judges have been pretty constructive and not so painful in their critiques of the singers. I'll be really interested to see what other changes they have made since Simon the Terrible left.

Red rocks in Sedona

We are still waiting on the bank to either accept or reject our offer on the house. This is completely amazing. There are literally millions of homes either in foreclosure or approved for short sale in the United States (can you feel a soap box moment coming?). There are very few people that the damn banks will approve for loans to buy these houses. In this case the damn bank has a qualified, pre-approved buyer to purchase this house before it goes into foreclosure and destroys the sellers credit for seven years. The damn bank has moved the foreclosure date twice. It is now set for ten days from now. The damn bank waited an entire month from the date of our last offer until they finally responded, rejecting our offer and giving us a generous 24 hours to counter ... AGAIN. That more or less broke my pick with the damn bank. We countered within 24 hours. Now the damn bank has moved into WARP speed. The next day at 11:00 AM they responded, rejecting our counter, and gave us ONE HOUR to counter with our last and best offer. We were at the Barrett Jackson car auction (more on that later) in the midst of a kazillion people when we got the call. So we went back to the coach, had a very fast pow wow, and made our last offer on the place. I was just pissed off ... no, I was PISSED OFF!!! Our agent said that he felt very good about the offer. I'm glad he did because we were both just PISSED OFF.

Crossing the Mississippi River! Leaving the Chisholm behind!

Okay, so now we have the entire weekend to wait to hear from the bank. Our agent is feeling quite good about it. Good for him. We are just plain ambivalent. I guess this is a good thing because I'm reasonably sure that the bank is going to jerk us all around again before this is over. On Monday we got a call from our agent. He tells us that the bank wants real signatures on the addendum to the contract. We've been doing this all electronically up to this point. Our agent says this is a really good sign. I looked at John and said, "I'm not even excited!" That was a sad moment. When one buys one's dream house, one should be excited. But the damn banks are turning this into something akin to emotional abuse. So we signed the contract with real ink and email the thing back to the damn bank. It is now Friday and we have not heard another word. And foreclosure is looming on the folks that own the home. We have money. They have a house that they need to sell. I fail to see what the DAMN BANK'S problem is.

Now to windshield wipers. When we left Oregon last fall we had a new thing-a-ma-gig to help the windshield wipers function. As you might recall, they kept stalling out when we were in Kansas City on our way out west last fall. I invested in some Rain-X wipes which John applied to the windshield in case we got caught in a rainstorm without wipers. As it turned out the wiper motor was shot. So John called Monaco and ordered a new one to install before we left Kentucky for Arizona. They sent one. It arrived and John took it out to the farm to put it on Mary. He opened the generator door and peered into where the wiper motor lives. He looked at the big motor that Monaco sent, and realized that it didn't match the small motor that was installed in Mary. He came home disgusted. There wasn't any time to order another one so we hauled the wrong motor across the country to Arizona. By some major miracle we didn't encounter a drop of rain across the 2,000 plus miles between Kentucky and Arizona.

When we arrived in Arizona and got settled at Ft. McDowell's RV Park, John called Monaco and ordered the correct motor, and had it sent to the RV park. Monaco said that they would send a label to the RV park so that he could send the wrong motor back to Monaco. All seemed well and good. So the new motor arrived. John got it and announced that he was going to install it. He left the coach and I heard the generator door open. I looked at my watch an hour later and realized how long he had been out there. I got up and looked out the front window. I could see his feet and they were moving so I decided to let him do his thing without my observations. I was working on my new manuscript so time went flying by. I finally looked up and it was an hour and forty minutes since he got started. I hadn't heard any swearing so I figured that he must be making headway with the project. A few minutes later the door opened and he came up the steps into the coach. He looked like he had been mugged! His hair was standing up, his shirt tails were hanging out, and he had grease all over his face and hands. He was staggering across the floor. I said, "Are you alright?" He looked at me and smiled. "Yeah," he said. "I got it done."

The next step was to test the wipers, which he did at every speed, several times. It was a total triumph. The wipers were fixed. The only thing left to do was to make sure that the wrong wiper motor made it back to Oregon. He took the box up with the number that Monaco told him to write on the box. UPS was sending the shipping label to go on the box. All they had to do was match the number on the box to the one on the shipping label and it would go back to Monaco. Easy, right?

Sedona

Two weeks later we are staying at West World I'm checking the credit card statement online to be sure that we were credited for the wiper motor. No credit. So I mention it to John. He calls Monaco. No motor. He calls the RV park in Ft. McDowell. No motor. The damn thing cost $250.00 and it is apparently lost.

Where the hell is the motor?

We drove out to the RV park the next day and John went in. The guy at the office swears that according to the woman who was working in the office that day, the UPS person picked it up. The problem is that the shipping label is still there at the office. We are set to leave the next day to go over to Palm Desert. There was nothing to do but put the ball back in Monaco's court, and wait for the woman who was working in the office the day that the box disappeared to come back to work, two days later. We left for Palm Desert.

John called Monaco again after we got to Palm Desert. Still no information on the disappearance. At this point the volume control on incoming calls on John's phone has gone to hell so he spends a lot of time hollering into his phone, "I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Why is it that when we can't hear someone we assume that they can't hear us? Anyway, he was desperate to get to a Verizon store so he could get a new phone and he told the woman at Monaco that if she tracked the motor down to call my phone, which I don't wear on my body, so that we could hear the call. I took the dogs out for a walk and sure enough, she called. When I got back to the coach I listened to the message. She said that the UPS person did pick the box up before the label arrived. He used the information on the box to ship the motor ... BACK TO LEXINGTON. She wanted to know if anyone was at home in Lexington. I threw my hands in the air and hollered at my phone, "NO ONE IS HOME IN LEXINGTON!" John came in about that time. "Who are you yelling at," he asked. "Murphy," I said. Then I explained. He hasn't talked to Monaco since and we still don't have a credit for the motor. I bring it up every so often and he just sighs. He'll deal with it when we get home.

We just spent the night in Goodettsville, Tennessee. We are about an hour from home now. I'm ready to unload the bus and settle in at home.

As we were leaving West World on our way to Palm Desert and L.A. I was standing by John's seat looking at the monitor at the car. I never do that anymore because that seems to be the most reliable part of this mass of mechanics. It just tracks back there like a champ. It has for three years. When I looked at the monitor something struck me as odd, but not enough to suggest stopping to check it. You know how that goes. Your little voice whispers to you that something isn't right and then you promptly ignore it and forget about it. So we took off and hit the 101 going 65 miles per hour. For about 20 miles, every so often, a horn would toot. I thought that was odd, but the drivers in Scottsdale are pretty aggressive so I shrugged that off too. Finally after about 20 miles we were passing an exit when I heard a little "meep, meep" to the right. I looked out the window and there was a guy taking the exit on a motorcycle. He was mouthing something. Of course my first thought was that he was mouthing something obscene. Isn't that a statement on how we live today? I'm so used to people being obnoxious that when they are trying to be helpful, I just assume they are being obnoxious. We were traveling at the same speed, and he mouthed again, CHECK YOUR CAR. Holy shit.

Sedona

I leaped from my seat to the monitor and hollered, "PULL OVER!!!" We weren't in a spot where there was enough room on the shoulder to pull over and of course John hasn't a clue that I've been getting messages from the motorcycle guy. "WHY?" he hollered at me. "THE CAR!! THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH THE CAR!!" I screamed. "PULL OVER NOW!!!" I was nearly hysterical. I think I need therapy to something. Of course he wanted to know how I came to the conclusion that there was something wrong with the car so I explained in a speed talking jumble about the guy on the motorcycle. He pulled over on a very busy freeway and got out to see what was wrong.

Sunset in the desert

He came back and got in the driver's seat, put the bus in gear and moved forward, then stopped. "What's wrong?" I asked. "One of the towing arms didn't lock and the car was being pulled down the road cockeyed." I nearly hit the floor. He went out and looked, came back, and repeated the procedure two more times until he said that the arm finally locked. I obsessed until we got to Palm Desert. We had to unhook the car in order to put the coach into a tight spot. Then I got into it to move it. It seemed fine. After we got set up we drove over to Tim and Jeanne's house. It was fine.

It's official. The car is virtually in-destructable. When we parked in the driveway at Arcuri's place I said, "This car needs to be in the Smithsonian."

We made one more stop on our adventure in the west. After we left Griffith Park we went to Sedona to meet Jimmy and Helen Robertson. They were going to be there for a day before they drove down to Tucson. I have to say that I think Sedona is probably one of the prettiest places that we have been in this entire country. The "Oh wow" moments are never ending up there. We made a reservation in a ridiculously expensive RV Park (as RV parks go) and pulled in. The woman had instructed John to pull up to the office. It was a beautiful spot but as we made the tight turns into the office area I was wondering how we were going to get Mary back down to the park area. John went in and I got out and looked around. I didn't see a way to do it, even with the car unhooked. So he came out with instructions on how to get to our space. Step one was to unhook the car. Step two was to make a left turn and then a right turn and drive to the space. He tried left. There wasn't enough room to make the turn. So he looked right and then left and said, "I can make it." I was skeptical. He started that direction. I was standing by the car about to get in when this bearded guy showed up. "Man that's a beautiful rig," he says. "Thank you," I say as I turn to go to the car. "What make is it?" he asks. "A Monaco Dynasty," I say and start to turn away again. "How many miles do you have on it?" he asks. Exasperated I say, "Not sure. About 60,000 I think." Now I'm walking to the car when I hear, ssssrrrrrraaaaapppppppppe.

I won't say what I said.

I jumped in the in-destructible Smithsonian car and ripped down to the bottom of the hill where John was eyeing the damage to the side of the coach. Apparently there were some thorny bushes ... I'll spare you the details. When we take it to the detailer this spring he will have some work to do.

The next thing we had on the agenda was to find a car wash. Smithsonian car was a pig. Armed with instructions from the handyman at the park we took off. Sedona's city council must have outlawed left turns because from the time that you turn off of Interstate 17 and head for Sedona you start encountering roundabouts. No stop signs exist in Sedona. Only roundabouts. I think John took Mary through about ten of them on the way to the RV park and ten of them on the way out. 42 feet plus a Smithsonian car in a roundabout is a challenge. I think Smithsonian car jumped a couple of curbs on the way in. Anyway, back to the car wash. With some very loose instructions on how to find the car wash we set out tootling through roundabouts. When we had the choice to go left or right Murphy got involved and we took the wrong turn. A half hour later we were still looking for it, and we were only five minutes from the RV park. Finally we found it and then we couldn't figure out how to get in the driveway. Once we got into the driveway we found that we had discovered the world's slowest car wash. It took a half hour to get the car washed. Then Jimmy and Helen called us and asked if we would pick them up so that we could go up to a church that is built into a rock on a hill.

We picked them up at their hotel (we actually found it without turning around one time ... a miracle) and we drove up to the top of the hill. We went into the church. It didn't fall down. Another miracle. It was very cool and the view was fantastic.

The church in the rocks

We dropped them off and went back to the coach to change for dinner. We had made reservations at a place called Enchantment Resort. I read the reviews and they were glowing. The resort is about 8 miles out of town in the red rocks of Sedona. Jimmy drove us in their rental car, a new Camry, to the resort. As we were climbing in altitude we saw a full moon rising in between two stunning red peaks. It hung there like a giant softly glowing ball in the sky. It was stunning. Those who know the legend of Jimmy Robertson's driving, know that he considers himself "an excellent driver". They also know that when he drives his big red truck down the narrow winding road that they live on, people dive for the ditch when they see him coming. His driving is truly legendary in the horse industry. Helen, John, and I discussed this issue on the way up to the resort and decided that because the three of us were going to be drinking that Jimmy would be the best driver of the four of us after dinner. Scary.

We had a meal that I would rate in the top ten of my life. And the view, at night, with the full moon was almost surreal. And we drank a lot. We had cocktails. We had wine. And more wine. I think we could safely say that the three of us we were toasted. We piled into the Camry and Jimmy took off toward town. John and I were in the back seat so we weren't paying much attention to where he was going. He made a wrong turn and we ended up on a dirt road. It was a moonlit dirt road, but a DIRT road none the less. The three of us protested that we were going the wrong way. Jimmy gleefully continued down this road. We disintegrated into hysterics and I developed a horrendous case of the hiccups. I was laughing, tears rolling down my cheeks, and hiccuping, while Helen was writing a Facebook entry on her phone telling the world that we were lost in the desert in Sedona with Jimmy behind the wheel. The little Camry flew down the dirt road, around corners at high speed and through holes in the road like a champ. Finally, after what seemed like four hours, we hit the main road back to town. We just had a blast.

As of today (which is February 11th) the damn bank has harassed us for one piece of information after another and we still don't have an agreement on the price. If anyone is reading this that is considering buying a house on short sale here is my advice: RUN. RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN THE OTHER WAY AND DON'T LOOK BACK. If we weren't so far into this we would pull the plug on this one and move on to a property that isn't in financial distress.

We are home now. It is cold. The ground is covered with snow again and the temperatures have been in the single digits for the last few mornings. Mary is plugged in over at the farm chugging away. The good thing is that the days are getting longer and the weatherman says that we have a break in the weather coming! Temperatures in the 50s are on the horizon. It's the mid winter break time. Yay!!!!!!

By our front porch

I hope everyone is having a good winter! I'll be back when we begin our migration back to Scottsdale in March for the horse show. Or maybe, if the house gods smile on us, to MOVE! :)

I was about to publish this post when the phone rang. It was John.

WE GOT THE HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Escaped

2011-01-03T16:11:00.000-08:00

Snow on the Mountain

It seems that no matter where we go the weather goes whacky. No exception in Arizona. I took the above picture on our daily walk up the hill above where we were keeping Mary. Notice the snow on the mountains. We woke up to temperatures in the upper 20s two mornings in a row. They were forecasting snow in Phoenix at one point. I was in town that day having fun with Karen Anthony and her daughter Ali and her daughter in-law Dawn. On the way back to Fort McDowell they said it was snowing in East Mesa. I thought I saw snow flakes when I was sitting at the traffic light in Fountain Hills. Turns out it was weed fuzz :-)

We don't mind the cold temps because when we look at the weather at home, comparatively, its almost warm. Currently (its Monday) we are at RV Renovators, parked in their back parking lot for the night, watching the Kentucky Wildcats play Pennsylvania. Tomorrow it will break 60 degrees again and all will be right with the world.

The reason we are at RV Renovators ... which are the people who saved our collective rear ends when Guarantee RV in Oregon ripped us off two years ago, or so ... is because the driver's side slide in bedroom broke (again). We were going to start migrating back to Kentucky. I know ... HAVE WE LOST OUR MINDS?????? No, we lost our house person. We have someone who looks after our house, picks up the mail and such while we are traveling. She got transferred by her company and had to make a quick move so we are stuck for someone to take care of the place and the mail.

UPDATE

It is now January 17th. We still aren't home yet. Someone recently said that our lives parallel "Where's Waldo?". I've taken to calling John, Waldo Jones. We have two Woofs.

Back to RV Renovators. When we pulled in they guided us to the back parking lot. It was enclosed by a chain link fence that ran the length of the lot. At night they close the gates on either end and lock everything up. So our guy Eddie gets into the coach and we visit with him about the slide problem, and what will eventually (and I mean two and a half days later) be done to fix it. Ransom is sitting in the co-pilot's seat and John and I are near the galley while we talk to Eddie. We find out that they don't have the part that we need on site, and will have to order it from Monaco in Indiana. It's later in the day and the parts place in Indiana was closed. They were going to call in the morning and have the part flown to Arizona for delivery on Wednesday. They invited us to stay in the parking lot. It's like living in an episode of Junk Yard Wars. Seriously. It's a mess!

We hooked up and Eddie went out the door as Bob (the best repair guy ever) got in. In the process no one noticed that they left the door open. John got up, stepped down to the parking lot and then jumped back in the coach. "Is Ransom in here?" he hollered at me. I looked around and we both called his name at the same time. No dog. Paralyzing fear hit me like a locomotive. We were sitting right on Main Street in busy Mesa, Arizona. I bolted out of the coach with John and he commenced his ear splitting whistling. Behind the chain link fence was a row of crummy houses and a dirt road. I followed the chain link fence with my eyes looking for a hole where he could have gotten through. There was no hole. My eyes kept going until I got to the gate, which was right on the road. By this time the entire crew at RV Renovators had sprung into action. There was a guy unlocking the walk-through gate and people were running everywhere hollering, "HAVE YOU SEEN A LITTLE RED DOG?" John kept whistling. Panic had me by the throat. I wanted to sit down in the middle of the parking lot and cry. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw a red streak flying down the dirt road on the opposite side of the fence. Ransom was checking every possible way to get through that fence and back to us. I took off running toward the gate calling him and he followed me on the other side of the fence until we got to the street. He jetted around the end of the fence and I scooped his little ass up and hugged him and then scolded him all the way back to the coach. He just licked my face, all jazzed up from his escape. The dog nearly gave me a heart attack.

The Escapee

So we spent two nights in the parking lot. Every morning at 6:30 someone would step into the mass of RV parts, windshields, insulation, paint cans, hoses, tools, and crap stacked miles high and holler something that I never understood and we would sit bolt upright in the bed. For two days during the day we would go out and explore our potential new home area, eat lunch out, go walking with the dogs, shop, and count the minutes until our coach was back together and we could begin our journey back to Kentucky. Or not.

The actual repair took an entire day on the third day, while we cooled our heels in the RV Renovators waiting room We took the dogs in with us. John was in and out for several of those hours, driving the repair guys nuts I'm sure.

There is a popcorn machine in the waiting room. Breezy ended up giving away one of our closely held secrets, one that was kept between her and Ransom and me. We don't hand feed either one of them anything except dog treats. No people food by hand. And very little people food anyway. But when John is traveling the dogs and I catch up on our chick flicks. And of course with a movie you have to eat popcorn. So I make Orville Redenbacher's tender white popcorn. I can't eat a whole bag of it by myself so we share it. I eat a kernel and toss one each to my adoring canine companions. Of course I swore them to secrecy so we wouldn't get any flack from John.

Breezy in the pilot's seat, against the reflection of a tree at Griffith Park

Miss Breezy being the brainiest and most trustworthy of our group is allowed to go leash free where ever it is allowed. We situated ourselves in the little waiting room, me on a chair, Ransom on my left on his leash, John on the chair next to me, and Breezy without her leash, on John's right. And also she was closest (about five feet) from the popcorn machine. John told her to lie down, and she got comfortable next to his feet ... with her nose pointing toward the popcorn machine.

Double Frisbees at West World

Breezy has a way of laying flat like no other dog I've ever had. She can get really, really, really flat with her little feet out in front of her and her chin in the floor. While she is that flat-like-a-rug-on-the-floor dog, she can also scoot very slowly along the floor in that position. It's a miracle of dog physics. Every time I looked over at her she had moved several inches closer to the popcorn machine. It was getting close to her afternoon feeding time so I suspected that she was going to blow our cover. I went back to my reading. A few minutes later a man came in to get some popcorn out of the machine. He got a bag and opened the door and Breezy crawled on her belly over to the machine. John started to laugh. He said, "She has never had popcorn in her life. I don't know why she is over there." I cleared my throat and shifted in my chair. When Breezy is hungry she drools. It's a reaction that gets her lots of food. "Look at the poor dog. She's starving." Of course she weighed almost 50 pounds the last time she was on the scale and I'd trimmed a good four or five pounds off of her since we had been in Arizona. The man asked if he could give her some popcorn. John said, "We don't hand feed them." I said, "Well, that's not exactly true." Both John and the man turned and looked at me. "We do eat popcorn together when you travel," I said. "You can't watch movies without popcorn." The man started to laugh while Breezy is salivating all over the floor and John said, "Okay then. Give her some popcorn." She was one happy Border Collie. Ransom got some too. And now I don't have to swear them to secrecy anymore.

We were so proud of ourselves. We managed to get through the holidays without any of the lights and music and the stuff that after 55 and 65 years on the planet, we are both sick of. In the RV park at Ft. McDowell there were several people who decorated their coaches. You can't know how ridiculous it looks to have reindeer antlers stuck to the front of a million dollar Prevost coach. Or santa hats hanging on the side mirrors. And lights strung all over the things. Anyway, we managed to sail through, enjoying our outdoor time without all of the Christmas trappings. So on January 3rd we went to an Italian restaurant in Fountain Hills for dinner. When we walked in I was immediately struck by the fact that there were Christmas lights in the windows. When they seated us we walked by two fully decorated Christmas trees. And when we sat down we both heard the music. "Here Comes Santa Claus" was the first tune. It was followed by another equally ridiculous Christmas song. I leaned over the table and whispered, "You think someone forgot to tell them that Christmas is over?" The waitress came up to get our drink order. She said, "Would you like something to drink?" John said, "Christmas is over." This girl was dumb as a box of rocks and slow as molasses in January (in Kentucky). She says, "I know." Okay. So why were we being tortured by stupid Christmas music (not "Silent Night" or "Oh Holy Night" but "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer" and "Frosty The Snowman" ... I swear!)? I surmised that it was because we spent too much time being proud of the fact that we managed to get to January 1st without hearing them. Such is life. We had a seriously bad meal, exceptionally slow service and all of it done to bad music. It was karmic payment for gloating.

We got the coach back together late on the third afternoon and made a mad dash down to West World with the plan that we would leave the next morning (Thursday) for Kentucky. This was Plan B. Neither one of us had our hearts in Plan B. We woke up on Thursday morning to a glorious day of sunshine and warm temperatures. We had the place to ourselves except for some people in the main parking lot working on some big event that was coming up. We had a weather window and route planned that might have gotten us home without any snow storms. But we weakened (code for, we talked each other out of leaving) and opted for just one more day ... one that we enjoyed completely. Late in the day I got on my computer to be sure that we were good to go on Friday, and discovered that we had blown our weather window. According to Weather.com and the National Weather Service there wasn't a route that we could take to Kentucky that wouldn't stick us in the middle of a nasty storm that was going to blanket the mid south from Dallas to the east coast of the Carolinas. On to Plan C.

John decided that the ladies in the office at West World needed some bribing in order to keep us there for as long as we needed to be there so he took them a signed copy of "Silent Partner". I went over to the office and visited with them, and they were so happy to have the book. I don't think anyone ever gave them anything before. They had been a little testy each time that we dealt with them in the past but the book opened the floodgates of generosity. They really are nice ladies but working for the city apparently has its challenges. As it turned out, it was a terrible storm that lasted longer than we expected so we were stuck at West World. No other RV Park had space for us. The event that was coming in was the Barrett Jackson car auction. It is an epic car event (and I'm an epic car lover). The ladies at the office said that Barrett Jackson's group was scheduled to take over the lot that we were in on Monday. We watched the weather channel and the terrible storm back east, and the days clicked by. We biked and played Frisbee with the dogs and saw movies and ate out, soaked up sun and read and napped. Everyone at home kept telling us NOT to come home because it was horrible there. My dear friend Leigh took over the mail duties at the house so that was a load off of my mind. But Barrett Jackson's group was taking over all of the RV spaces on Monday. Plan C was to leave on Monday. The weather prevented that. On to Plan D.

Christopher Robin (L.A. Equestrian Center mascot)

John coaxed two more days out of the office. I'm not sure how they did it but they let us stay in the lot while the Barrett Jackson people prepared West World for the big event all around us. They brought in semi load after semi load of the most beautiful, cherry cars you have ever seen! The Arcuris were due in town for the big Oregon vs. Auburn game on Monday so on Tuesday we had lunch with them. While we were eating Tim invited us to go over to Palm Desert where they have their house. There is a big park with a lake a mile from their house where we could put Mary. Plan D was formed. On Wednesday we left West World, wishing that we could stay for the auction which was due to start on the 17th (today) and drove west. The entire trip we kept saying, "I can't believe we are going farther west!" We spent two days there and had a great time. The park was wonderful and we had perfect weather. The next conversation was about whether we would go home from there or go over to the Los Angeles Equestrian Center for a visit with the Bennetts. It was only 140 miles. So what the heck! The weather sucked at home, the house was taken care of and we didn't have anything else to do. Plan E.

We drove over to Burbank and parked Mary. It was a great stay and again THE WEATHER WAS PERFECT. Oh, and by the way, we are still waiting to hear from the bank on our home purchase. That is probably the main reason we are dragging our feet about going home. Anyway, we had a great time there. The plan was to go home from there. It would take 5 days from L.A. to Lexington. I looked at the weather. It was good until we got to Lexington on Friday. The forecast was 19 degrees for a high and 6 degrees for a low. And it said it was going to be windy. I told Jim Bennett and he said, "Why would you go home to that now?"

That was all we needed. John talked to Jimmy Robertson who said that he and Helen were going to be in Sedona tomorrow. Unbeknownst to me, he called Cayce Marcos to find out if we could park Mary at their barn in Scottsdale so we can attend the Barrett Jackson car auction!!! Plan F was formed this morning at 9:30 when she said yes.

The lake at Palm Desert

Right now we are in Needles, California for the night. Tomorrow we will get up and go to Sedona, one of the prettiest places I've ever been to, to meet up with our friends. Thursday we are off to Scottsdale for the auction, and if the house gods all line up properly, the bank will accept our offer on the house while we are there.

While we were at the L.A. Equestrian Center we met a Percheron named WhoDat who would fetch a small construction cone every time Jim would throw it for him. It was the cutest thing I've seen a horse do! We also met the LAEC official mascot, Christopher Robin. He is a Miniature Horse, a little stallion who does the Spanish walk, and will rear up and walk on his hind feet, sit down, and bow. He is a beautiful little guy. The woman who runs the RV parking and such at LAEC turned out to be someone who John had met in 1977 at a wedding of a mutual friend in Las Vegas. Very small world. I love that place because it is constant horses, so much so that every time I take a breath there I can smell horses. It doesn't get much better than that.

Christopher Robin and his owner, Karen Sun. She exercises him alongside the golf cart.

The question finally came down to: What would we be doing if we were home? The answer was: Freezing our asses off, sitting in front of the fire, waiting to hear from the bank. So we may keep driving circles around the southwest until spring. Stay tuned!

A Desert Christmas

2010-12-28T19:14:00.000-08:00

We left this in Lexington

Headed down Versailles Road

Spent the night near the Mississippi River

Trekked across Oklahoma, Texas, and New Mexico

Came over the mountains in Arizona

Found the Saguaro

And landed in the desert

This is the first time we have spent the holidays in Arizona, but not likely the last time. We are staying out at Fort McDowell by Fountain Hills, where my dad and step mother used to own a home. It's about ten miles from Scottsdale. Mary is set up in a nice park across the highway from the Fort McDowell Casino. The Salt River Indians own the property that we are parked on. The day that we pulled in we spotted three loose horses traveling down a trail, head to tail, headed to the river for a drink of water. A day later I was pedaling with Ransom around the park when I spotted two cows with their calves moseying on down the side of the paved road toward the river, totally unfazed by all we RVers. Really cool.

We were scheduled to leave Lexington on Sunday December 5th so that John could attend a USEF judging clinic in Scottsdale on the 9th. But the weather didn't cooperate and we couldn't leave until Wednesday. Mary is a wonderful machine but she becomes a 50,000 pound bobsled in snowy weather. We made it into Ft. McDowell three and a half days later. We always say that we are not going to bust our bums to get where we are going, but when you are traveling Interstate 40 through Oklahoma and the Texas panhandle why would you take your time. There's not much out there but wind ... not John's favorite element, nor mine. He missed his clinic but that can be done another time. Now we are parked in a beautiful spot in the desert, surrounded by mountains and saguaro and prickly pear cactus, and enjoying the most beautiful weather we could ask for. The days are hovering around 70 degrees and the nights are cold enough to require a down comforter. We are walking with the dogs every day in tee shirts and I've been outside in shorts and flip flops (cute new ones) on a couple of afternoons. It's just plain heaven. We've had some rain but its not cold so we are fine with that.

Breezy is sacked out in her bed as I type this and Ransom is curled up in his new bed. He kept trying to steal Pocket Arcuri's little round, high sided bed when she was our guest, so I decided that he needed one of his own. It's a little bigger than Pocket's bed was, so when he gets comfortable in it all I can see is his side rising and falling with his breathing, and sometimes an ear or a foot sticking up. They are so happy here. In the mornings we take them with us while we pedal the bikes around the park. Each time we pass a coach or travel trailer with dogs we hear them sound off at the sight of us, madly pedaling with our dogs galloping alongside our bikes, their ears flying.

Before we left Lexington the weather was so bad for so long that Breezy didn't get out as much as she needed to, and she gained five pounds. I took them both into the vet before we left for their semi-annual checkups and Breezy weighed in at 49.9 pounds! She is the first foodie Border Collie I've ever been around. Tag, my last little Border Collie, was a non-eater. Food didn't mean a thing to her so I spent the better part of 14 years thinking up new ways to get her to eat. Not so with Breezy. So I bought Science Diet Light dry and wet dog food before we left and we put her on a diet and exercise program. She's not taking the diet part too well, but I think we've peeled a few pounds off of her in the nearly three weeks that we've been here. We've both lost a few pounds along the way as well. We take them for a long afternoon walk each day that usually concludes at about feeding time. There is a good gravel road to walk on about a quarter mile from the park so we head up the paved road to get to it. Every so often Breezy stops and licks the pavement. John swears she is licking up the remains of local road kill. We make the turn onto the gravel road and it is all uphill for a mile or so until you get to a rock quarry, where we turn around and head back. She leads us back at a hurried pace, so that we don't miss her dinner time, 4:00 on the dot and not a second later! I swear she has a clock in her stomach. Ransom will eat but he's not as food focused as she is until we finish with our dinner. I keep a little something special in the fridge that they get after the dinner dishes are done. He may be dead asleep in his bed but when I open the door of the refrigerator to get their treats, out of his bed he comes flying. I'm not sure exactly how they know that particular door opening sound when I've spent the last 20 or 30 minutes in the kitchen cleaning, clattering around, and putting leftovers away, but they do. At home Breezy will position herself in front of the refrigerator door, with her nose pointing toward it so that I don't forget to give her the treat. In the coach I would be falling over her if she did that so she sits next to the sink and watches my every move until I'm done.

Today we were walking back from our trek up the hill and a huge coyote crossed the road in front of us. He hung out in the bushes and watched us as we walked past him. John hollered at him and he took off. In the mean time Ransom was going to get all testosterone charged about the "big dog" that crossed in front of us. I explained in firm language that the "big dog" would eat him for a snack, and to chill out. I hope he got the message. He thinks he's tougher than he really is. I can hear the coyotes singing outside in the desert now.

We spent Christmas Eve at the restaurant at The Raddison Hotel at the casino. It is a beautiful place with a very good restaurant. We toasted my dad and Christmas in the desert and enjoyed a fun time together with our server, who was new. We were her third table ... ever. She was so sweet, from Missouri (she reminded us that it is the show me state) and we really enjoyed her company. She was really nervous and made some mistakes but it only added to the charm of the meal and the time of year. On Christmas Day Karen Anthony and her husband Leon Ray invited us to their beautiful home up on the hill overlooking Scottsdale. Along with their family we enjoyed great company and a wonderful meal. It has been an awesome holiday.

For Christmas this year (and the next 30 Christmases!) we are giving each other a new house. Or trying too. We found a lovely property in Scottsdale that is being sold on short sale. Neither of us really knew what that meant until after we got into it, but I can tell you that if you are looking to buy a property I would avoid short sales if at all possible. The market in the Phoenix area has taken a 50% hit in the real estate melt down so there are a ton of great values out here, but the short sale process is long and trying and without any guidelines or rules that we can discern. Thankfully our agent is a specialist in these sales so we are in good hands. We are both learning to exercise our patience regularly. So far when one of us has come up short in the patience department the other one is making up the difference. I'm not sure how much longer it will take to find out if we have prevailed in this purchase, but we are hopeful that we will know something in the next week or so. Since we sold the Florida property we have really missed having a warm weather home. We were both weary of living through six months a year of hurricane season and we both love it out here, so it seemed like a good place and a good time to shop. The second house that we looked at we both went head over heels for. That was at the end of October. But if it all works out our patience will be well rewarded. If not we'll go back to shopping and cut a wide swath around the short sale listings.

We will have to head back into Kentucky winter soon. I've spent so much time bragging about our good weather on my Facebook page that my friends are probably blocking my postings. For awhile John was calling his friends every day and when they would pick up the first thing he said was, "I'm surprised that you are still taking my calls." I was too. He was terrible about pounding our freezing Kentucky friends with all of the gory details, like, "I'm sitting in the sun but I'm going to have to go in because I'm SWEATING." Really cruel. Or, "I'm sitting on the patio of a local Mexican restaurant in the SUN having a MARGARITA." Below the belt stuff.

"Silent Partner" has had a good holiday season. I've had really nice feedback on it from a lot of people so I'm hopeful that they will all tell their friends about it and sooner or later it will have a really good following. I'm encouraged enough to keep working on the second book!

I hope that everyone has had a wonderful holiday and that 2011 is the best, most inspired year yet! I'll update on how we are coming on the house project as news comes along!

Passing The Hat

2010-11-05T18:14:00.001-07:00

Sunset Against Mary in Scottsdale

We left Las Vegas and a wonderful time behind us and caravanned down to Scottsdale to the fall futurity show with the Arcuris. While we were in Las Vegas we saw "Viva Elvis" with the Arcuris and Doug West and then had a terrific dinner at Don Vito's Italian restaurant at South Point. It was the best time ever! I highly recommend any of the Cirque du Soleil shows and "Viva Elvis" was fantastic. There is so much going on in their human circus that if you saw the show ten times in a row you would see something new every time. The sound system in the Aria theater is the best in the world so Elvis's music sounded like he was in the building. They traced through his life, in music, dance, and acrobatics, incredible lighting, and special effects, and we were completely engaged for two hours. On Saturday night Ryan procured ten tickets to the PBR Championships at the Thomas and Mack stadium at UNLV. Ten of us took a limo bus (really!) to watch the bulls against the cowboys (bulls won that night!). They put on quite a show with music and lighting effects, smoke, clowns, audience give aways, all to a packed house. They carried one Brazilian guy out on a stretcher with a neck injury after putting in a 90.00 ride, and apparently he was cleared to ride on Sunday where he put in a ride of 91.25. The guy was unreal! One of his fellow countrymen won the championship and over a million dollars on Sunday. I think you must be at least half crazy to get on one of those massive, man killing machines. Like Las Vegas, the bulls have the advantage. It was a great evening of fun and excitement.

My recommendation for horse people in the east is, after Louisville is over next year, put the California Futurity Horse Show on your calendar, load up some horses and end your year with a great horse show, and some terrific times. What a great place for a show!

Ransom and his Frisbee

Scottsdale was, as always, gorgeous. The show was down some on entries but the facility at WestWorld is so nice that we enjoy it no matter what is going on. We got there late in the afternoon and while Tim and John were settling the horses in I was riding my bike around the area with the dogs, taking in a spectacular sunset. We had our first meal out in Scottsdale at Earl's (our favorite place to grab something quick to eat) and ate our last meal there before saying goodbye to the Arcuris. In between we ate Thai food, Mexican food, and everything in between. It's diet time when I get home! We had lunch with Howie and Jack Schatzburg at KO'Donnells, and dinner with Tim's clients at Mastro's Ocean Club, and dinner with Karen Anthony and her husband Leon Ray at Wild Fish. We had such a great time that we stayed an extra day to soak up that last bit of desert sun. And I pedaled my expanded butt around the area to take in the fresh air and sun. It was a great stay.

Breezy playing her favorite game - Tug!

Now we are headed home ... where it is cold. At the moment we are at an RV park in Mt. Vernon, Illinois. We left Scottsdale on Tuesday with the idea that we would take our time getting home. The problem is, there isn't much between there and home when we go down I-40 except flat boring landscape and wind. Lots of wind. The wind knocked Mary and John around all day on Wednesday from about Tucumcari, New Mexico, through the panhandle of Texas, and into Oklahoma where it picked up to 35 miles per hour. We had our most comical episode of the trip when we exited 1-40 onto the Kirkpatrick/Will Rogers Turnpike. We were on our way to Virgil Helm's place outside of Jefferson City, but needed to stop for an overnight before we got there.

Jumping for the Frisbee

We have taken the route before, and I remembered that there were a lot of toll stops along the way but we've traveled a lot of toll roads in the last three years, and I had them all mixed up in my head. We both forgot that on this toll road there are two toll stops that are unmanned, and require $3.95 each in coins. Only coins. We were traveling with about $300.00 between us but neither of us had much in the way of coins within reach. So we stopped at the first toll station when the first episode of panic ensued. There are signs on the toll station threatening legal ramifications if you pass through without paying the three dollars and ninety five cents, and a big funnel looking thing where you put your change. John began digging and so did I. He had fifty cents in change, and I had a little over two dollars. Not enough. Grumbling and cussing ensued. Thankfully there were two lanes and no one behind us. I said, "What about the hat?!!". The hat is a baseball cap that John throws change into when he empties his pants pockets at night. He said, "It's in the second drawer down, below the television in the bedroom." My heart sank. The second drawer down is sandwiched between the foot of the bed and the wall when the slides are pulled in. I'm thinking the only way to get to it is to wait for Mary's air bags to air up completely, which can take several minutes, and then put the passenger slide out to get to the hat. At this point we are both running up and down the length of the coach like our hair was on fire. After falling over each other a couple of times I decided to go outside to be sure that there wasn't a bill changer somewhere on the funnel thing that I didn't see. We were stopped facing north, the direction in which 35 mile an hour winds are coming from. I pulled the handle on the door and started to push it open when a gust of cold wind hit it and slammed it back in my face. Not to be deterred from my mission, I pulled the handle again and put my shoulder into it. This time I forced the door open, stepped out into what felt like hurricane force winds, and the wind pulled the door from my hand and slammed it shut. Keep in mind that these unmanned toll stations have video surveillance, so what happened at this stop is recorded for some unknown person's entertainment. I went up to the funnel thing, holding down my sunglasses which were perched on top of my head. The wind was whipping me off balance every few seconds while I ducked and dived, trying to find a bill changer anywhere on the dang thing. Not there. There is a sign demanding coins though. I holler to one on in particular, "This is the dumbest damn thing I've ever seen!" I was throwing my hands up in the air and storming around in front of the funnel thing. Finally, after my rant (which is recorded for history), I went back to the coach.

After battling the wind and the door again I found John sitting in the middle of the bed (with the slides closed the bed takes up the entire room, so crawling on or over the bed is the only way to the closet and dresser) with the top drawer of the dresser out. "The HAT!" he hollered at me, and pulled the baseball cap out. It was full of change, and a couple of old horse show pin passes, two screws, a few receipts and a tag off of a shirt that was new two years ago. I sorted through and got the change we needed, counted it twice and headed for the door again.

There is a small traffic light just ahead of the funnel thing. It was red and said "STOP". When you put your change in it is supposed to turn green and say "GO". I did battle with the winds again until I got to the funnel thing, looked it over carefully and started feeding change into the funnel. When I got done I stood there staring at the light, waiting for it to turn green. My plan was to make a mad dash for the coach when it did. I didn't have a back up plan if it didn't. I waited a few seconds. It didn't turn green. I went up to the funnel thing, my hair being whipped into eggbeater style (you can't know how much I hate the wind) and looked into it to see if some change had hung up somewhere. It hadn't. I commenced yelling at the funnel thing and throwing my hands around. That was such a constructive use of my time, don't you think?

Miraculously, no one had pulled up behind us. Apparently most people who travel this turnpike have one of those little windshield box toll thingies like we had when we had the Florida house, where you drive through and the box registers the toll. Only tourists wouldn't have one of those and I don't know what kind of insane people would tour that area of Oklahoma ... except us of course, because we are on our way to Missouri. These are two of my favorite places to visit. Ha.

Okay, so John is behind the wheel waiting for the light to turn green while I'm having a fit in the lane in front of the bus. I stormed back to the door and fought the wind to get it open, struggled into the coach and John says, "Why isn't the light turning green?" I flopped into my seat and said, "I don't know and I don't care. Let's just go." So we did. I expect that we will get something in the mail from the state of Oklahoma telling us that we are in violation of their toll booth rules. I intend to write back if they do.

We totaled roughly $25.00 in tolls that day, one toll because we pulled of at the wrong place and had to pay $1.50 to get off. Then we pulled into Will Rogers Downs to stay the night because it is the only place to put a big rig on that stretch of road. We spent a fun day and night at Helm's place and then at about 2:00 today we took off to get some road behind us before we get home and have to face the Gestapo again. I'll update you on that after we get settled at home.

Relaxing by the coach

This has been the most fun trip that we've taken in Mary so far. Every place we visited, every silly thing that happened, all of the wonderful people we spent time with and met, and all of the fun things we did, were just the best ever. We've been on the road since September 2nd and for the first time since we've been making these long trips I was sad to begin our journey home. John says that I'm usually harassing him to get home about six weeks into a two month trip and he can't get over that I begged to stay another day in Scottsdale. It was just the best.

We will be in Kansas City for the Royal in a little over a week. The book is doing well and I'm very pleased about that. I will have books with me at the Royal if anyone wants to buy one there. Just track John or me down up there!

I hope your summer was the best ever and that the upcoming holidays are too!

What Happens In Vegas...

2010-10-20T20:05:00.000-07:00

Las Vegas. What an interesting place. We are parked at The Oasis RV Park about two blocks off of Las Vegas Boulevard. It's a huge park on the south end of Vegas, about two miles from South Point Hotel, Casino and Spa and the site of the California Futurity Horse Show. The last time we were in Las Vegas we were treated to a lovely two night stay at Wynn, took a helicopter flight into the Grand Canyon and capped the visit with a night out at The Mirage Hotel where we saw "Love", the Cirque du Soleil show about The Beatles. Great fun with great friends! This time we are staying in Mary and attending the horse show, again, with great friends. It's going to be a fun stay for sure. We are trying going to try to see Cirque du Soleil's Elvis show while we are here and I'll see a friend who lives here. I'll update you on our adventures in my next post. So far, I have to say that I've never seen such a great place to have a horse show. The stabling is incredible, the arena and warm up areas are top notch, and when you arrive with your truck and trailer or van, employees of South Point greet you, escort your rig into the building where you unload your horses on mats, and take them to the stalls. They then unload your feed and equipment (I'm not lying!) and clean out your van or trailer. If you pick up a broom to sweep up they will stop you and insist on cleaning up themselves. We decided to have lunch today and walked through a door from the barn, into the hotel/casino where you can eat, gamble, bowl, shop, see a movie, get your hair done, buy a new wardrobe ... the list goes on and on. This is how to show horses!

Crater Lake, Oregon

When I last posted we were leaving the Redwood Forest in California and heading to Crater Lake in Southeastern Oregon. I keep saying this but I can't believe that I lived in Oregon for forty years and never visited this incredible spot. I'd heard about the blue water and seen photos of it but until I laid my own eyes on it I couldn't imagine just exactly what I was going to see. It is mostly an intense sapphire blue but depending on the sky, the time of day and where you are standing it can be deep royal blue, dazzling turquoise, or as John calls it, insane blue. I think his is the best description of all. We drove from Arcada, California to Diamond Lake in Oregon, which is close to Crater Lake, and stayed at the Diamond Lake RV Park. It was a delightful spot with lots of fir and pine trees, trails where we could walk the dogs, and an 11 mile paved path around the lake that you can walk or bike on. Of course we got lost on our way in but stopped along side the road and made a phone call before we had to unhook the car or something equally as stupid. The first night we went to the little pizza parlor that was across the road from the RV park and had a great pizza. The night was unreal, crisp and cool with a full moon. We slept with the window open to fresh mountain air and put an extra blanket on the bed.

Golden Mantle Squirrel

The next morning we got up and walked the dogs and had breakfast. We left the dogs at the coach and began the drive up to Crater Lake National Park. John has a senior pass to all national parks so we are exempt from paying to get in. He's very proud to hold the golden pass, using it to tease the rangers that are on duty at the gates. "I'll bet you want to see my ID because you think I stole my older brother's pass, don't you?" is one of his favorites.

Looking down into the insane blue water

Once we drove through the gate of the park we started up a long hill to the crater. There is a 33 mile drive around the crater with multiple turnouts and view points along the way. At the first turnout we encountered we pulled in and I grabbed my camera and got out. I was not prepared for what I saw. When we went to Mt. Rushmore I had the same experience. When we drove up to the gate to the park I looked back over my shoulder and saw the presidents faces in the mountain and it was startling. When we stepped up to the rim of the crater I was stunned into silence. We both stopped abruptly for a few seconds. The inevitable "Oh wow," came simultaneously. The rest of the day was one, "Oh wow," after another. We ate lunch at the lodge, a gorgeous place made of stone, timber, and bark, hiked to the rim on the far side of the park, and stopped at a waterfall where I had a moment. It was one of those like the one that John had three years ago on a perfect day at the coast in Oregon. I looked at him and said, "Let's sell everything and move back here." Then we come to our senses, understanding what that would entail. But you never know. Both of us tend to be rather unpredictable when it comes to life changes. If it strikes us both at the same time no telling what we might do!

Breezy taking in the mountain air at Crater Lake

That night we ate in and made a plan to go back up to Crater Lake the next morning. The weather cool that morning so we took the dogs. It was a perfect day and so quiet and peaceful up there that it was like having the park to ourselves. We both felt a special connection with the area while we were there. I took a hundred more photos and then we reluctantly said goodbye to the crater. We went down to the Diamond Lake Lodge and had lunch and then we took the dogs and went for a walk on the Diamond Lake path. It was a glorious afternoon and the dogs were having a blast. John got a phone call and he had let Breezy off of her leash so she was bopping along with Ransom and me while he talked. I spotted a small lake off of the paved path so the dogs and I headed toward it. Breezy, with her heavy coat, was thirsty and hot so she decided to take a swim. I watched as she eased herself into the water and then realized that she was slogging into deep mud. I was prepared to go in after her if she bogged down, but she slowly turned and and picked her way out of the water. She was a mess!

Breezy swimming in the muddy lake

Muddy dog!

John got off of the phone and rolled his eyes at us. Oh well. So we took off down the path, one clean dog and one dirty one. About a half mile down the path we came to a mountain stream. It was crystal clear and flowing gently. There was a bridge built over the stream and a woman came along on a bicycle. She stopped to admire the stream. John spotted the stream and said, "Breezy go clean up ... go get into the stream." The dog looks up at him and heads off to the stream where she gets in, swims out into the water far enough to wash off all of the mud, got out, shook off and came back to where we were standing. The woman on the bike was astounded. To be honest, so was I! She is such a smart dog and so attuned to us that she always seems to know what we want before WE know what we want, but that was just over the top! By the time we got back to the RV park she looked as clean and pretty as when we left for our walk.

Meadow by Diamond Lake

We really wanted to stay another day but we were expected in Springfield and it was time to park Mary and stay put for awhile, so we packed up on Saturday morning and drove three hours over to Arcuri's where we backed Mary into her usual beautiful spot on the farm. The dogs were free, Ransom to chase wild turkeys when the opportunity arose, and Breezy to work every day in the barn with John. I was able to visit my family and friends and we had a great stretch of beautiful weather while we were there. One afternoon we took off after John finished at the barn and drove to the coast where we visited the Sea Lion Caves just north of Florence. That was so cool, and then we had an early dinner at a little restaurant on the Suislaw River that runs into the Pacific Ocean, and drove back to Springfield. We were back at the coach by 7:30.

When Arcuris returned from the Morgan Grand National we all loaded up in our coaches and headed for Las Vegas.

Okay, I'll have photos of the rest of our trip in my next post. We are going to Scottsdale from here for the fall horse show and then we will be heading back to Kentucky.

Book update: It is now available on Amazon.com, Kindle, Barnes and Noble's website and on their electronic reader, Nook, as well as on iBooks. I'm getting some great feedback from readers and I'm so tickled by that! It was fun to write and people say it is fun to read. YAY! I'm working on book two and John is busy harassing everyone into reading Silent Partner. He's relentless and is having a ball at this show handing out the cards with the purchasing information and website. I'm sure I'll have to order more cards by the time we get home! If you have read it and liked it, spread the word! Thank you!

Happy reading!

Yabba Dabba DO!

2010-09-16T13:42:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Bedrock

Our stay in Utah was unbelievable. It is the land of rocks and rivers. Climbers, bikers, hikers, boaters, runners, geologists and all rock lovers will find nirvana in Moab. Every single bend in the road brought another "Oh wow" moment from both of us. And the dogs had a blast! We went to Arches National Park which was completely amazing. The national parks system in this country is worth every tax dollar that goes into them. They are wonderlands and that's an understatement. Picassa has made it a real chore to upload photos, especially if I'm not in a great spot for an internet signal (which I'm not at the moment) but I will get some sort of a web album up for those people who don't do Facebook. If you do Facebook be sure to check my albums for all of the photos. I was in photo heaven!

In Hidden Canyon

We also took a short hike up Hidden Canyon in Moab. It is a box canyon with a small creek running through it. No one was up there so we turned the dogs loose and they had an absolute ball. Ransom would disappear to the right or left of the trail and then reappear way up the trail ahead of us. It was warm out, in the 80s so Breezy, who loves water, went for a swim to cool off. Ransom, who hates water, waited until he was near overheating before he made the plunge. I was on the trail by the creek and heard a huge kersplash! I looked over and there were ripples in the water and then he came barreling out of the bushes soaked to the ends of his ears. The only time I've seen him happier was the first time we turned him loose down at the Oregon coast two years ago. He has has such fun on this trip because he FINALLY learned to come when we call ... most of the time. He disappeared this morning (we are at Arcuri's farm in Springfield now) and John asked me if I'd seen him. I said, "He's in the back pasture eating horse shit, I'm sure." There were some people here working on the annual laundry list of repairs on the coach, and one of the guys cracked up. It turns out he was across the driveway sunning himself. But he's usually eating horse shit.

In Hidden Canyon

We ate out one night in Moab at the greatest little restaurant! It's called Desert Bistro and the food is wonderful! It was a second to the Santacafe in Santa Fe, but delicious none the less. I told John that after this trip we could write a dining guide to the west. Desert Bistro is situated in an old ranch house with a view of the river portal. The menu is gourmet southwestern cuisine and they did everything right, from great wine, local fresh ingredients and a delightful waitstaff.

View from Dead Horse Point State Park

On our last day there we drove up to Dead Horse Point State Park. We decided to hike the circular trail, which is about six miles. The state parks allow dogs on leashes so we took the kids with us. On the map the trail looked well marked with spectacular views. Being as neither of us has been able to find our ass with both hands this trip, I was a little concerned about navigating by map. For some reason we both seem to have lost our map reading skills simultaneously. But we set off on foot, oooing and ahhhing over the views. They were spectacular. It was very open and desert like up on the rim and when we started we were on a paved path. Impossible to get lost, right? Wrong. They rarely get rain in the summer up in Moab but when we went to dinner the night before I noticed some weather up in the state park area (about 30 miles from Moab). Sure enough, it rained and it washed out some of the cairns, which are small stacks of stones that mark the trails. Once we got off of the paved path we started watching for the little stone stacks but about a mile into our hike they disappeared. We ended up wandering through the desert (I'm making this dramatic but really the paved road was a stone's throw away from where we were) where I managed to get stung by a small, innocent looking little cactus. The little bugger went right through my shoe! I howled and jumped around while Breezy, Ransom and John looked at me like I'd lost my mind. I peeled off my shoe and sock and pulled the little stinger out and then we trekked on. We finally found the rim trail again and probably only went a half mile out of our way (through the desert). We found a shady spot and watered the dogs and ourselves and then hit the trail again. We walked about two miles and came on the Visitor's Center where we were able to use the bathroom and attempt to find the trail again. Funny. We wandered around the parking lot for five minutes looking for it and finally John went into the Visitor's Center and asked. Finally we were on our way again. And it was getting hot. We had three more miles to go, which we turned into four by getting lost in the desert again. By the time we got back to the car it was 90 degrees and we were all beat. We ate in that night and got up the next day to begin our trip to the Redwood Forest in Northern California.

We took off on Highway 50 through Nevada. It's known as the loneliest highway in America. And it is. There are three or four tiny towns out there and a lot of mountain passes but not much else. Thankfully we had a full tank of fuel. We stopped in Ely, Nevada for the night. I expected this tiny town to be in the middle of the desert with nothing but a gas station and a bar. We had a reservation at the KOA which was right on Highway 50, which was no problem because it is after all, the loneliest highway in America. We found a pretty little valley with a nice KOA to park Mary.

Ely, Nevada from the KOA

The people at the KOA gave us some information about what was in town, including restaurants. John looked and said, "There's a Basque restaurant in town. Let's go!" Okay. We got Genius and put it in the car and headed to town. Now keep in mind that this town is bigger than I thought it was but was still just Highway 50 with one cross road. We followed Genius's instructions and ended up at a Chinese restaurant. We drove around and came back to the Chinese restaurant again. Then we did it again. As we were driving around in circles we noticed a Mexican restaurant on the main drag. After the third pass by the Chinese place we were in hysterics, and decided to have Mexican. It was great! We had margaritas that were kick ass (literally) and a wonderful meal. Score another great restaurant experience. It's called La Fiesta, if you ever happen to be in Ely :)

The next morning we drove the rest of the way through Nevada and on in to Placerville, California, which is on the western slope of the Sierra Nevada mountain range. Being from the west I have a healthy respect for the Sierras. People always think of the Rockies as being the tough mountain range but consider what happened on Donner Pass in the Sierras. They are beautiful but can be treacherous at times. So my advice was to take the split before we got to Carson City and head over Donner Pass on Interstate 80. We could buy Nevada fuel before we got into Califor$$$$nia and travel on a four lane highway instead of Highway 50 over the pass by South Lake Tahoe. The problem was, we got lost and ended up staying on Highway 50. When it came time to take a cut off to Interstate 80 John opted out. I think he was thinking that at least we knew that Highway 50 went all the way to Placerville and if we took a cut off God knows where we might end up, given our track record for the trip. So we ended up going through every little town along Highway 50 and around to South Lake Tahoe (spectacular spot) where we got really lost. Genius was telling us to take a shortcut. I couldn't tell from the map (those skills went into the toilet between the last time we traveled and now) if it was lying to us or not so we took the turn and ended up in a residential neighborhood where they had closed the road. Thankfully John can drive Mary through the eye of a needle now, not that he likes doing it. On the contrary. It was a bad day at black rock for him. Once we got out of the neighborhood (sigh, sigh, sigh, sigh ... you have to be f*cking kidding me's, and all) we got on the road that Genius wanted us on and immediately stopped due to road construction. They were repaving this road. It took us a half hour to go seven miles. Finally we got on the right road, which we discovered was the same road we turned off of to take the blasted shortcut. Then we had to stop at the agricultural station on the border. For the first time we were boarded by an agent to check for fruit. FRUIT. Not drugs, bombs or illegal aliens. FRUIT. Really, FRUIT. Anyway, the woman was pleasant and when John complained about the road she said, "You took that road?" and shook her head. We have had that happen a lot on this trip. They say, "You came in on (fill in the blank) road?" and shake their heads. We are going to have an official ceremony when we drop Genius into a toilet and drown it. I'll take pictures.

So the next part of our adventure entailed getting over the pass. That involved hugging the side of a narrow road with a sheer drop off on John's side of the road that was so far down that I got nauseous when I looked over the edge. So I didn't look again. It was a slow, twisting, winding, grind up the eastern side of the Sierras and a slow, twisting, winding, grind down the other side into Placerville. The KOA in Placerville is run by an idiot and it sits on Highway 50 where it sounds like the cars, which go (fast) 24/7 are driving right through the coach. It was a scotch night.

I'm going to stop here and do another post on our trip to the Redwoods (wild), our time there (wonderful) and the crown jewel of our sightseeing trip, Crater Lake.

Book update: Silent Partner is available on Amazon.com now. I've been struggling with the Kindle upload and finally turned it all over to someone who had a clue what to do. When he finishes I will have files that I can upload and that you will be able to actually read on all of the electronic readers. If you want to order the book click here. You can get updates on the Silent Partner webpage at silentpartneronline.com and the on the Facebook page.

If you read it or have read it and like it please post a review on Amazon.com. Click here to go to the Silent Partner page and scroll down to the bottom where it says "Create your own review". It's a simple process after that.

Thanks and happy reading!

Lost in Clayton, Santa Fe and Taos

2010-09-11T18:25:00.000-07:00

Ransom looking out at the Oklahoma panhandle

The theme of our adventure out west this year has turned out to be LOST. But that follows FUN.

We are in Taos. We arrived today after spending three nights in Santa Fe. To get to Santa Fe we had to cross the Oklahoma panhandle. To say that there is nothing out there is an understatement, but we've been across the Texas panhandle a number of times and in my estimation Texas wins the contest for nothingness. Oklahoma at least has a lot of farming and ranching going on. There is something almost appealing about the stark moonscape of Oklahoma's flat lands. As we were crossing John mentioned that I might want to check the bed for air pressure. I never would have guessed that we gained enough altitude to increase the pressure in the bed chambers, but they were both on 100 when I checked. I "dumped" them as was suggested and by the time we got to the tiny, arid town of Clayton, New Mexico for the evening, they had refilled themselves. We were going up, big time.

When we got to the Clayton KOA we discovered that we had a problem with Mary's left rear airbag. She rides on four airbags that keep her level when we are traveling (think back to our ride-height nightmares last year) and on a separate system, level her once we stop. It's a pretty cool system. We stop, John makes sure that she is aired up and then he pushes a button and you hear air whooshing while she increases or decreases the air in the bags to compensate for the grade that she is sitting on. The leveling system has always worked like a charm. There is a small auxiliary pump that kicks on every so often when we are parked, that provides air when the airbags need it, due to the inevitable settling and minor leaking of the bags. Once we were in Clayton the auxiliary pump seemed to be working overtime and when we took showers in the morning the water was puddling on the left side of shower floor. John mentioned that he thought she needed adjusting. We had a light dinner and went to bed early.

The only thing that captured my interest in Boise City

The next challenge was to get out of Clayton toward Santa Fe the next morning. We used Genius Garmin to get to the park, and it took us in a weird ass backward route, so when we got ready to leave we were having a problem figuring out which way to go. Genius took us to the main road through Clayton and wanted us to turn right. By now we are totally distrustful of Genius, and John was sure that it was because the software had not been updated. He's mentioned this fact 40 or 50 times from the first of the year until now. I was resistant to hooking the thing up to my computer, that's how distrustful I am of it. Plus I figured that the update process would be a pain in the butt. Anyway, we sat at the intersection and argued about which way to go. Genius said go right, John thought we should go left and I thought that Genius couldn't be that wrong so I reluctantly sided with it. That's rare. Not totally sold on Genius's advice, I whipped out that antiquated thing called a MAP, which agreed that we should turn right, and in a few blocks make a left on US 56. Looking at the map it seemed simple to me. Genius wanted us to turn right and then follow the signs to US 87. If we followed that advice we would head northwest and backtrack 30 miles. Keeping in mind that we get 7 miles to a gallon of diesel, that seemed like terrible advice.

Against his own sense of direction, John opted to listen to Genius and the map on the right turn, but then he turned right where we should have turned left, and headed back toward Boise City. We were treated to Boise City the day before. I was quickly and desperately pleading my case for taking US 56 WEST to Santa Fe, and for him to turn around before we ended up on the narrow road (with no place to turn around) and had to backtrack 50 miles. Navigating on the fly is becoming something of an art with me. I have to figure it out and convince John, all in the span of a minute or two, or we end up lost. Come to think of it, I'm not doing so well in that department because everywhere we've been so far we've gotten lost. Having to battle with the GPS is partly to blame.

So he took the desperation in my voice to heart, and he turned the bus around in a city block and we headed off toward Santa Fe. The rest of the morning was very pleasant. The closer we got, and the higher we went (Santa Fe is 7,000 feet), the prettier it got. We had a reservation at Santa Fe Skies RV Park. We had the address in Genius and it guided us off of exit 278 and headed us toward town. The minute we got off I knew we were going the wrong way. John realized it too. The problem then became, where the hell do we turn her around. We were headed straight for the Plaza in Santa Fe and the traffic was murder. It was 2:00 in the afternoon. We both had that awful feeling in the pit of our stomachs that we were in trouble. We crawled along Cerillos Road passing strip mall after strip mall. No churches (the best for turning around on any day but Sunday), and no industrial buildings, nowhere to turn Mary around. And we were getting closer to the Plaza. Of course, never having been there, we had no idea how close we actually were. Finally I spotted a mall on the right on Rodeo Road. "Can you turn her around in Dillard's parking lot?" I asked. He nodded and hit Mary's right turn signal. He never said much during this detour. Just sighed a lot. He's become a highly skilled motor coach driver in the last three years. Thank God.

He turned her around and we headed back. In the mean time I got on the website for the RV park (which if I had half a brain I would have done BEFORE we listened to Genius and got lost) and discovered that there is an exit, 276, right by the RV park. Visualize two grown adults shouting at a GPS unit. We did that for the next two and a half days.

Interesting yard art at the RV Park in Santa Fe

We set up in the RV Park, which was an okay place. I won't give it raves, but it was fine. The best part was that we had a 3/4 mile trail around the park where we could do our morning walks with the dogs. Power walks at 7,000 feet were challenging to we humans, to say the least. The dogs were fine with it.

The first thing I did once we parked and put the slides out was to take Breezy and Ransom for a walk. We headed down a gravel trail, past juniper bushes and a lot of yellow and purple sage. They did their thing and as we were heading back I spotted an ant hill that was teaming with big red ants. I guided them around it understanding that those were fire ants, mega nasty critters that sting and burn like hell if you get into them. We kept walking back toward the coach when a dog in the park started barking. Ransom stopped and moved off of the path toward the barking dog and when he did he stepped into another nest of fire ants. He jumped back on the path biting aggressively at his left front foot. I was trying to keep an eye on Breezy so she didn't get into them, while he was bounding around me biting at his foot. He tangled me up in his long red leash while I attempted to help him. Finally he pulled the ant from between his pads and shook it out of his mouth. Then he commenced tending to his wound, licking and licking. All I wanted to do was to get them back to the coach before they were attacked by any more ants. After I untangled myself from his leash he hopped along on three legs, trying to lick his swelling pad. The rest of the afternoon was spent tending his wound. By nightfall he was as good as new and from then on he was great at avoiding the ant hills. Breezy learns from observing. She cut a wide path around them too.

Now to the good stuff! We went into town that evening and had a fabulous dinner at the Santacafe on Washington Street. We have eaten in great restaurants all over the place and had some wonderful meals. This one rated right at the top. If you are ever in Santa Fe don't miss it. The next day we got up and did our 3 miles around the park under gorgeous sunny skies and then headed into town to do some gallery hopping. We got lost repeatedly amongst some ridiculous traffic before we found Canyon Road. We parked (that was a challenge!) and went door to door for a few hours. We saw some gorgeous art, a ton of beautiful sculpture, and some really unusual things.

John standing behind a giant sculpture

I posted a photo album on Facebook and will do a Picassa web album as well for those non-facebookers. It was a great day but we both kept commenting on the traffic and all of the people in town. It was wild! I needed to stop at Whole Foods for a few things so we pulled into the parking lot and finally found a place to park. John said, "I'll drive," meaning that he was going into the store with me and planned to push the cart.

We've been through this a number of times in five years. I'm a lone shopper. I hate grocery stores for the most part, but they are a necessary evil. I have my shopping schedule down to a science at home so that I'm never caught in a grocery store during peak hours. I am the world's fastest shopper. I get the cart and my list and if you see me coming you probably want to allow me a wide berth. The few times that John has gone with me to "drive", he ends up off somewhere where I'm not, and it takes me three times as long to shop.

So I glanced at the parking lot and looked back at him with raised eyebrows. He said, "I won't disappear, and I won't throw things in the cart. I promise." I said okay, and we headed off to the store. It was like the ant hill that Ransom got into. He pushed the cart into the store and we started in the produce section. While I was busy picking out avocados and tomatoes, he pushed the cart off somewhere. When I turned around he was nowhere to be found. Exasperated before I put anything in the cart, I set off looking for him. I found him on the other side of the large produce section shopping for bananas. "So much for not disappearing," I said. "But I found perfect bananas!" he said with a large grin. Okay. On to the rest of the list. It took about forty minutes to finish the short list, dodging shoppers from one end of the store to the other. John enlisted the help of a nice kid to pick out some cheese and he kindly escorted us to the tea section. Then he abandoned us. I had had enough of Whole Foods so we checked out. I looked at John and his expression said that he was far less enchanted with the idea of "driving" than he was when we walked in. Grocery shopping isn't for wimps. As if to punctuate the point, he pushed the cart with the bagged groceries out of the store, and was nearly run down by an old woman with freaked out white hair, who appeared to have styled it by sticking her finger in a wall socket. She was driving an OLD black Mercedes (built like a Sherman tank), looking under the steering wheel with a crazed look on her face. We laughed all the way out of the parking lot about the dangers involved in grocery shopping.

We had actually planned to go into town to The Shed for dinner that night but once we got back to the park one of our neighbors informed us that we had arrived during Fiesta. That explained the traffic congestion. We were advised to stay away from the Plaza at night. Good advice. So the next day we headed to the Plaza in the morning to beat the traffic. I had a request; I wanted to visit the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum before we left Santa Fe. So John agreed and we paid $18.00 to get into the museum. I have seen some of her work in prints before but never any originals. The museum was wall to wall people. We fell over people, bumped into people and half way though John looked at me and smiled. "I don't get it," he said. "Get what?" I asked. "This." He motioned to the artwork. The rest of our time in the museum (which wasn't long) he teased me about liking her art, which to him looked like nothing in particular. I love her use of color and she is probably the only artist who worked in abstract that I find fascinating. Everywhere we went for the rest of the day he teased me about liking her art. We laughed a lot. We always do!

Downtown on the Plaza

From there we wandered around the outside of the plaza area. It was 11:30 and after our early breakfast and 3 mile walk in the morning we were getting hungry. I got out my Droid phone and hit one of the apps that tells you what is nearby, no matter where you are. The Coyote Cafe was just up the street. The patio would open at 11:45 so we stepped into a Native American jewelry and gift shop to poke around and kill some time. John spotted a necklace in the back of the store and called me over to look at it. It was love at first sight. He said, "You have a birthday coming up," and grinned. The guy got it out of the case and I tried it on. I was a bit intimidated by the size of it but then I pictured it with the right outfit and I was sold. He matched some earrings and we happily headed off to the Coyote Cafe for lunch. That is another one to put on your list. We ordered the Navajo Taco, which is made on pan bread with chicken, pulled pork, and buffalo and all sorts of delicious other things. It was a great meal.

My birthday present!

From lunch we walked up to the St. Francis of Assisi Catholic church. By this time Fiesta is in full swing and we are again dodging people and traffic. It was worth it though. We stopped at some cool galleries and made our way over to the Loretto Chapel (which is now part of a hotel), with the mystery spiral staircase that was made without nails. Both churches were gorgeous and the staircase was fascinating.

It now has a railing. This photo is from a postcard taken before the railing was constructed.

We managed to find the parking garage and find our way back to the RV park and the dogs. We realized that we had only seen a fraction of the places that people had so kindly suggested to us, which means only one thing ... we must go back and visit again! It is a lovely town.

The next morning we pulled out and headed up the Rio Grande Gorge highway to Taos. We had a nice stay there, two nights, one dinner in town and one afternoon wandering the shops of the old plaza. We drove up to the Ski Valley. It is a pretty area and my guess is that during the winter it is spectacular. The greatest surprise was the drive out of Taos, over the pass in the Kit Carson National Forest and on to Moab, UT (today is Monday and we are now settled in Moab). I'll update once we finish our time here. It is truly a spectacular area and I cannot believe that I lived in the West for 44 of my 54 years and never visited this area!

On the book front, the author's proof was supposed to meet me here in Moab at the RV park today when we arrived. It's not here. I'm going to hold a good thought that it will arrive tomorrow. Please beat the drums for that to happen! If I get it and it looks fine it will be available to buy this week.

The good news for today is that we got here without getting lost!

Mac Angel

2010-09-06T17:32:00.000-07:00

Kansas

We left Longview Lake Park today. After John finished judging the show on Saturday night we decided to stay another day. Our motto on this trip is that we have a month to get to Oregon. It probably won't take that long but when we start to get in a hurry about something one of us will look at the other and say, "What's the hurry? We have a month." So we stayed an extra day. We walked four plus miles every day around the park. I'm happy to say that I found a place in Missouri that I really like.

We completely forgot that it was Labor Day weekend until the campground began to fill up. Mary is such an oasis that we were fairly insulated from all of the activities in the park on Saturday night. Apparently there were lots of activities. The woman who I spoke to when we were lost in the rain without working windshield wipers (check the last post if you need the story), who made me feel like an idiot (rightfully so) was out tending to her little garden when we came in from our walk yesterday morning. We stopped to visit with her. She is from Missouri and an absolute hoot. When John asked her about how the weekend was going she shook her head. "Well hell, we had a damn fight last night. Had to call the Rangers in to break it up." She said it wasn't far from the coach. I remember hearing some noise outside and then fell asleep. She continued, "Yep, people get drinkin' that beer and their heads get big, and then there's trouble. This mornin' I got up real early, put on my warbonnet, grabbed some big garbage bags, and headed down there. I rolled em out and made em clean up the whole campsite." She grinned. She drives a golf cart and lets the little kids in the park sit on her lap and drive it around. I told John, they are all going to want golf carts for Christmas this year. Anyway, she and her husband were very nice and we really enjoyed our stay.

We only had one problem. We were situated right in the middle of the campground. There was a lot of space between campsites but the place got pretty full. Each campsite had a grill and a fire pit. And every camper had a fire in their fire pit. We were determined not to close up the coach and turn on the air conditioning, so by bedtime last night we were a little nauseated from the smell of wood smoke. I stepped outside before bed and it looked like we were in a ring of fire! Everyone was having a great time, kids on bikes and scooters, dogs and Frisbees, a guy on a Harley, lots of ball games, and junk food, smores, hot dogs and the people next to us had a massive jug of what looked like Cheetos. It was full on Friday and two thirds empty this morning. That's a lot of Cheetos. We took our walk this morning, packed up and hit the road to Wichita. It is only about 200 miles so we were here and set up by 3:00. Between here and there we encountered wind. John loves wind. Not.

Mary was buffeted from pillar to post, zig zagging down the highway. It took our stellar mileage of seven to eight miles per gallon, down to five and a half miles per gallon. Thankfully diesel is cheap this year. Being as we didn't have that far to go and we have a huge fuel tank we didn't have to get out of the coach until we got here. I made the reservation here when I thought we were going to be here on Sunday. The pickins were kinda slim. We followed the GPS right off of the Interstate and made two quick turns in an industrial district. John said tonight that it must be a law of the universe that they build these RV parks between an Interstate and a railroad track. It's not fancy but it works.

Our guide in a cloud of dust

So we made the turn into the park and all I could see was a massive cloud of white dust blowing past Mary. It obliterated the view into the park and when John stepped out of the coach he stepped into 98 degree heat. The wind howled and Mary rocked. Finally he came back and the guy with the golf cart pulled in front of us to guide us into the park. We nearly lost him in the dust.

I decided to take the dogs for a walk while John set up the coach. I put the leashes on them and we stepped out into the blast furnace. It's amazing what a difference 200 miles can make! We were out for ten minutes or so and by the time we got back to the coach I felt like a piece jerky.

We settled in and John put in his order for a light dinner. He requested some soup, a salad, and what he calls one of my "famous" sandwiches. In our quest to find decent food to eat we found Arnold's light bread. They are little thin rounds of whole grain bread that make great sandwiches, without so many calories. The famous sandwich has meat and cheese and lettuce, onion, red wine vinegar, mustard ... it's pretty good. So I got our dinner put together and put it on the table.

I had been working on my book blog on my MacBook Pro all day. I splurged and got the Mac in January, and I have been in love with it since the first time I turned it on. It is the Mercedes of laptops, simple, great quality and the best screen resolution there is. So instead of moving it off of the table where I usually work, I turned it and pushed it over on the window side of the table and put the place mats and silverware down next to it. I put a bottle of Newman's Own, Oil and Vinegar salad dressing on the table and we sat down to eat. John got up to get his vitamins so I grabbed the bottle of salad dressing and put some on my salad. I put the top on, gave it a few twists and when he sat down, I got up to get my vitamins.

The next thing I heard was "Oh shit!". I was tapping capsules out of a bottle and I stopped and closed my eyes. I sensed that something happened that I might not want to see. He said, "The cap wasn't on!". I turned around to find him sitting with the salad dressing bottle in his hand, and salad dressing was EVERYWHERE. It was all over his new blue shirt (ruined), it was in his hair, on his hands, face and arms, all over the table, on the floor, on the leather seats, on the dogs, on our sandwiches, in his soup, all over the place mats ... just plain everywhere. I looked at my laptop from across the room and my eyes bugged. I walked up to the table, afraid to look, but unable not to. I looked closely at the laptop. There wasn't one drop of oil on the thing. Not the tiniest little bit. It was everywhere else in the area but not on the computer. I know I have a Mac Angel.

Apparently when I put the top on and twisted it the little paper ring on the top was what twisted and not the top. When he picked it up he gave it a couple of good shakes and the top flew off. The rest is history. I spent an hour this evening cleaning up oil and doing the laundry. The shirt is history but the rest survived.

Tomorrow we head off to Clayton, New Mexico. I believe it is about 350 miles from Wichita and in the middle of nowhere. The next stop is Santa Fe for a few days of fun. We are looking forward to that. I'll take lots of pictures and be back in a few days with the continuing adventures of The Joneses. There are some photo albums on my Facebook page of Longview Park.

Have a great week!

Showdown With The Home Gestapo and Lost In Missouri

2010-09-01T18:04:00.000-07:00

Freedom Hall Show Ring (photo by Liz Shatner)

It's been a long twelve days. A week ago Saturday we loaded up Mary and headed to Louisville for our yearly adventure at the Kentucky State Fair World's Championship Horse Show. We had our reservation for Mary at the KOA in Clarksville, Indiana and the menus planned for the suite in Freedom Hall. We looked forward to spending the week with friends, both local and from all over the country.

We had a reservation at the now infamous Porcini in Louisville for out annual Saturday-before-the-show dinner with Donnie and Phyllis Brookshire. If you don't know why the restaurant is infamous and are curious, just Google, "Rick Pitino, Porcini". It was a great meal, a great time and we had a great week. Congratulations to everyone who had great rides and won great ribbons! Especially to Tre and Emily Lee, who had a awesome week, and to the Brookshires and Gendrons, who had a super week as well!

We returned home with Mary on Sunday afternoon, tired and ready to get her unloaded and have a good night of rest. Normally we are home for a couple of weeks after the week in Louisville, and have time to recover and organize for our long fall trip in Mary, but this year John is judging the Mid America horse show in Kansas City beginning on the 1st so we planned on leaving on Wednesday. Essentially that gave us two days to get Mary cleaned up and get her packed for a two-month long trip. We discussed the logistics and decided to break the homeowners association rules (yes, we knew we were breaking the rules) by leaving her at the complex, in the guest parking space, until we left. The other option was to take her out to the farm, where she normally lives, for one day and then bring her back. Ridiculous. John said, "We are going to piss someone off." I said, "Too damn bad. There are people here breaking rules left and right and I don't see anyone doing anything about it." So it was decided.

The guest parking lot is out the back door and down a small hill from our unit. It is very convenient for us to be able to load and unload her from that space. Hardly anyone uses the space. Visitors are few on that side of the complex (and now I know why) and most visitors park in the driveways of the people they are visiting anyway. So we went on about unloading, cleaning, stocking her with food, and filling her with our clothes and things.

We went out to eat for lunch and dinner for two days and ran non-stop, like two crazy people to get everything done and get the condo ready to close up. We were on our way to dinner on Monday night and had just come around the corner where Mary was parked when we saw an older man with white hair, and a red bandanna tied around his head, leading a big white dog. He was waving us down with what I would describe as a stressed and angry expression. John stopped and rolled down his window. The guy waves his hand at the coach and demands to know if we have guests staying in "that".

Please start this You Tube video and then continue to read the blog post. Thank you.

John said no, and explained that it belongs to us. Then the man shouts at us (do people really think we are deaf?), "YOU CAN'T LEAVE THAT HERE OVERNIGHT!" John says, "Yes, we can." The man was obviously unhappy with that answer. He informed the man that the rules say it can be there for 24 hours. There was more back and forth about the rules being broken, and threats about fines and attorneys. We were both tired and short fused, and the man was getting belligerent. He hollers, "WE'RE GOING TO FINE YOU!" I hollered, "JUST KNOCK YOURSELF OUT!" John (who slightly shocked by my outburst) said, "You know buddy, you really need to get a job. You don't have enough to do." He hollered at John, "YOU'RE A NICE GUY!!!" and John hollered back, "WELL SO ARE YOU!!!" Then the guy turned and shouted over his shoulder, "OH GO TO HELL!" and stormed off.

We were both stunned. And then we were steamed. We went to dinner and I called one of our neighbors to find out who the hell that jerk was. She didn't know. Then I decided to visit the neighborhood-know-everything-and-everyone, who lives across the street from where Mary was parked. I marched across the street and rang her doorbell. I waited and waited and finally she opened the door. I said, "Can you tell me who the guy is with the white..." She cut me off and said, "Elrod" and backed up two steps like she was going to shut the door. I asked if that was the first name (seemed appropriate) she said, "No, Bob. He's on the Board." She's talking about the blessed group of individuals who make up the Home Owner's' Association (the real Gestapo). She had the expression of a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. I thanked her and marched back across the street, thinking that was an odd encounter. Turns out she was the biggest duck in the puddle. Not a huge shock but a disappointment to be sure.

John asked me for the HOA president's name and phone number so I looked it up and he called him. He is a very nice man, and John apologized for breaking the rules, and causing him any grief, but also told him that being cussed by a board member in the middle of the street didn't seem appropriate in any way. The nice man agreed, he told us it was okay to leave the coach until Wednesday, that we would receive a letter from the HOA regarding the matter. John said they would be getting a letter back, and then they hung up.

After putting in a restless night we dragged ourselves out of bed and hit the floor running again. Another neighbor came to the door about 10:00 and we chatted for awhile. Apparently the entire neighborhood was buzzing about the coach and the incident with Board Member Elrod. She and her husband are very nice people and she just couldn't understand what the big deal was. My speculation is the same as John's; people really need more to do than to have a fit about looking at a luxury motor coach for two days. If we had parked an old junker car there and left cigarette butts and beer bottles piled in the guest parking space I would have understood the fuss. But I don't get this. The phrase "Get A Life" seems to fit.

After this we will bring her in, park all 50,000 pounds of her on the concrete driveway (technically that's where she is supposed to be for up to 24 hours) and let them deal with the damage to the driveway if she breaks down the concrete. I swear.

So Wednesday morning, before dawn, we fired Mary up and hit the road. We debated laying hard on the air horn as a farewell to the 'hood, but decided there were several nice people who didn't deserve to be rocked out of bed before the sun came up. Our destination was Virgil and Sandra Helm's farm in New Bloomfield, Missouri.

If you've read my prior posts you know how I feel about Missouri. It is a beautiful state but there is some kind of bad karma between me and Missouri. But there are some great people (like the Helm's) and several horse shows there so we have to go every now and again. I have a hard time looking forward to it, based on my history with Missouri.

We were motoring along, enjoying finally being on the road again. The day was pleasant and as we traveled north the weather began to cool off. We've had a brutal, humid summer in Kentucky so the cool air was so welcome. When we got close to Virgil's farm John called him to refresh his memory about the best way to get into the farm with the bus. He got the directions and told me to keep my eye peeled for Road BB. Check. We found Road BB and made a left on the narrow road.

We drove in the country past neat little places and pretty big farms, long horn cattle, a field full of goats (Ransom took special notice), big round bales of hay, hills and valleys, and ... John says, "I know it seems like we've gone 20 miles but I know it's only been 5 or 6 miles." I was thinking that it was more like 20 but I nodded, knowing that when you are looking for something it always seems to take longer than it really does. So we passed more farms, and houses, dogs, a few horses grazing, a few more hills and a few more valleys, three or four big redneck four wheel drives going 70 miles per hour, and John says, "I don't know. Maybe we passed it." I looked at the narrow road with no shoulders and thought to myself, "How in God's name will we ever turn this mother around if we are lost?" We kept driving. I tried to remember the address that I put on Helm's Christmas card. All I knew was that it wasn't Road BB. I slumped in my seat, creating disaster scenarios in my mind.

John called Virgil again. He explained how far we had gone and Virgil told him that when we turned on Road BB we were supposed to take an immediate right on Highway 54. That was the address on the Christmas card! I heard near panic in John's voice when he said, "Virgil, I don't know where I can turn this thing around." We drove on. And on. And on. John kept repeating, "I don't know where we are going to turn this around," between huge sighs. I thought that 150 gallon fuel tank was the best invention ever.

Finally we spotted a wide gravel driveway on the left side of the road. We determined that the car was going to have to be unhooked (can't back the bus with the car attached) so that was the first chore. It was sprinkling. I moved it as far to the side of the driveway as I could get it so I could help John back the bus out into the narrow road. I was wildly waving my arms, watching a blind curve to the right of us, in case a four wheel drive redneck truck came barreling around the corner (during this endeavor we both imagined hearing dueling banjos). Before he was as far as he could go he stopped. I heard his voice over the roar of the diesel engine but couldn't understand him. I wave him back again but he doesn't move. Sprinkles turn to rain. I'm pissed off. I march up to the driver's window. The bus is blocking the road and I can't see if the imagined four wheel drive redneck truck is going to bury itself into Mary's side. John hollers, "I can't get past the car!" I look. It's in the way. I run for the car, move it up ten feet, so now it is sticking out in the road, and by the time I get back out of the car I see that he didn't wait for me and has backed Mary to the point where the tag axle is hanging over the ditch. Two more feet and she is going to be stuck permanently across the road. "Stop!" I holler in total exasperation. I blew a gasket, threw my hands up in the air, got in the car and drove off.

In the rear view mirror I watch him pull Mary up and then straighten her on the correct side of the road. And then I realize that I have no clue where I'm going. I drove until I could pull over and let him by. He blew by me going so fast that I had to floor board the car to catch up. We made a hard turn to the left, and when I looked in the rear view mirror of the Camry I saw the bicycles tilt so far to left that I could see the front tires standing straight up. "SHIT!" I hollered (to no one but myself). The bike rack had come loose and if I didn't slow down I was going to dump the bikes in the road.

These bikes are those Landrider bikes that we suckered into on a TV infomercial, one rainy day when we couldn't get outside. They have automatic shift on them and are supposed to be easy to ride. Not really. They are also really expensive (as these kinds of bikes go). So I slowed down. Thankfully so did John. My left turns for the next 15 miles were carefully navigated until we finally arrived at Virgil and Sandy's place. I got out and Virgil says, "Gee Karen, did you get wet?" I looked like a drowned rat. John and I looked at each other and cracked up laughing. I looked at the bike rack and it was hanging on by one hook. It really is a miracle that they weren't scattered from hell to breakfast somewhere in Missouri.

We went to dinner with Sandy and Virgil and had a great time. And we slept with the windows open in the coach. Wonderful. Today we went to breakfast and then Virgil took John and I out to see some horses "out in the country". Holy cow. We drove for an hour out into an Amish and Mennonite community, to a nice man's Saddlebred farm. The countryside is gorgeous. We looked at some nice horses and then drove back to Virgil's place so that we could get on the road and get to Longview Park in Kansas City. We had a reservation at the campground by the lake for Mary for three nights so John can judge his show. The weather was still off and on rainy and we tootled along enjoying the day. Ransom sat with me in my navigator's chair and Breezy tucked in behind John's seat.

We were doing great but when we got close I realized that I didn't have, and couldn't find, an exact address for the campground. I put the address of the parks and recreation department in the GPS which I figured would get us close. We got on I-470 and off at exit 5. It was raining pretty hard. The big wipers that clear the rain off of Mary's giant windshield were slowly rocking back and forth. The GPS (Genius) wanted us to turn right on 109th Avenue. So we did. We were lost. Again. We drove and drove until we were on a road that was heading into a residential neighborhood. John stopped twice while we had heated discussions about what to do. "You can't sit here in the road," I said. "We have to go even if it is the wrong way." He sighed, again, and again. Finally we just drove until we found a big church parking lot to turn around in. Once she was turned around I said, "Please stop here and don't move an inch until I get some directions to this place." Not one to want to sit still at any time, anywhere, it was a request that was granted begrudgingly.

I finally found a phone number for the campground and got this grouchy woman who made me feel like an idiot (which I can definitely be sometimes). I hung up and stormed back to the front, plunked myself in my seat and said, "We have to go back to where we turned off." John sighed again. The rain came pelting down and the wind was blowing hard. We're both stressed out to the max. The windshield wipers made a slow, half swipe, and they quit. Dead. No wipers. "Oh perfect," I said. "What comes next." I was thinking that Missouri was again treating me the way Murphy usually does.

We were both quiet for awhile studying the road hard between raindrops. We made the turn onto the main road and followed the signs to the campground, like the grouchy old woman said to. We drove, and drove, and drove some more. We kept seeing the little tent on the brown sign, pointing to the campground but it was becoming more and more like Road BB.

John and I read "Younger Next Year" recently (highly recommend) and have become believers in the science behind exercise being what will keep us healthy and happy into our later years. So we have been diligent about working out. We belong to Snap Fitness and they have clubs everywhere, plus we have weights and workout DVDs in the coach. Earlier we were talking about going to Snap to work out once we get set up here in Longview. As we drove, without benefit of windshield wipers, and unsure that we were not going to end up unhooking the car and having a melt down in the road again, I looked at him and said, "I'm not going to Snap tonight." He said, "Two seconds before you said that I thought the same thing. I'm having a scotch" We both fell into a fit of laughter. After what seemed like 50 miles we happened into this beautiful campground, which is nearly deserted. It's quiet and the weather is supposed to be perfect for the next two days, in the 70's and sunny. We actually didn't get into the scotch tonight and we will hit the gym tomorrow.

I'll get my camera out and start taking photos to post. I have to get back into the swing of traveling in Mary now. It's great. We both just love it. When we leave here we are headed to New Mexico for some time in Santa Fe and Taos. We are going to the canyon country of Utah, the Redwoods of California and Crater Lake in Oregon. We'll spend some time in Springfield with Arcuris, see my family, and head to the horse show in Las Vegas in October. From there we'll go to the Scottsdale show at the end of the month and then home again!

The book is still on track. The only thing left is for me to get an author's proof (a real book!), approve it, and then it will be available. Just another two to three weeks! I'll keep you posted!

Cover!

2010-08-21T15:19:00.000-07:00

The cover is finally done! I can't believe it. The publisher has the manuscript with the final changes, so we are two to three weeks from having a real book in my hands to approve. After that it will be immediately available on the publisher's website and on Amazon.com about two weeks later.

Woo-hoo!!! It's almost done!

I've been working on the second one lately and having a blast. The actual writing is what I really love, especially when I'm in the process of creating characters. I set up a situation and see what they will do and say. It's so much fun!

We are currently in Clarksville, Indiana, attending the Kentucky State Fair World's Championship Horse Show. For non-Kentucky residents, Clarksville is just across the Ohio River from Louisville, about 8 miles from the fairgrounds. We have Mary set up at a KOA and the dogs are settled in for the week. This is our third year staying here in Mary and it is such a great change from staying at a hotel by the fairgrounds, kenneling the dogs, and eating out all week. The dogs are so familiar with many of the places that we go each year that they know what to expect and act accordingly. Breezy, being the Border Collie that she is, goes into funk mode right after she eats her dinner at 4:00 in the afternoon. She knows we are going to clean up and leave for the evening. Ransom, being the eternal optimist, doesn't hit funk mode until we are dressed and put our shoes on. Then he bats his big, sad, hazel eyes at us and it's enough to make you want to cry. Breezy gets as flat on the floor as a 45 pound dog can get. She looks like a Border Collie throw rug. I've always wondered what they do once we leave. My guess is that they jump up and throw each other high fives for successfully making us feel like the worst doggie parents on the planet.

Last evening we stepped outside of the coach into 90 degrees of saturated air. This summer has been the hottest that I've spent since I was trapped in Coalinga, California from May to August back in 1986 (long story). Coalinga is very close to the massive Harris Feedlot along Interstate 5, the one that you can smell for ten miles in any direction before you happen upon a sea of 180,000 poor, sweltering cattle, eating God knows what (you can't believe what they feed them) and awaiting slaughter. Coalinga isn't quite the end of the earth, but you can see it from there.

Okay, back to the fair.

The next challenge is to get into the gate at the fairgrounds. Any of you who have attended this show know what I'm talking about without my describing it. For those of you who don't, it's similar to negotiating an obstacle course, littered with Gestapo, who are there to keep you from where you know you need to go. You have to have all of the proper credentials to get in, or you pay cash. We pay in advance (and through the nose) for the car parking pass, which gets us into the exhibitor parking area by the barn, for the VIP suite and six seats that sit in front of it, for an arm band (its green this year) so that John can get down by the rail of the arena or into the arena to assist someone if they request it, and for a book of gate tickets. You can also use the stubs of the seat tickets as admission to the fair. The tickets come in big sheets, color coded for each day and evening. It never fails that there is mass confusion at the gate, for at least the first three days, due to hiring new (and untrained) gate attendants each year.

On the way to the fairgrounds I tore the little stubs off of two of the Sunday Evening tickets, ready to hand them to the gate attendant. John had AFFIXED the parking pass to the windshield. If you don't AFFIX it to the windshield the Gestapo will get you ... that is, if they recognize the parking pass at all. Last night they didn't. John, who by his calculations has been "putting up with this crap for nearly forty years", was out of patience before we got to the gate.

I think there might be something to the idea that if you expect the worst you are likely to get it.

So after we negotiated the traffic in the entrance (there was some poor soul in a beat up minivan, who apparently made a wrong turn and was parked sideways blocking three lanes so we waited in a snarl of traffic so she could get turned around and out of our path) we pull up to the gate (looks like an expressway toll gate) and this enthusiastic young lady hollers in the window, "HOW CAN I HELP YOU?"

I'm not sure if she was yelling because it was noisy outside or if she thought because we have gray hair we are deaf. I was tempted to holler back, "WE WANT TO GET IN!"

Instead I handed John the admission stubs and he handed them to her. "OH," she says. "JUST A MINUTE," and she disappears into the booth. She comes back and says, "I NEED TO SEE THE REST OF THE TICKET."

I'm thinking, "Since when?" They have never needed to see the REST of the ticket. I looked at John and I can see an explosion brewing so instead of arguing with her I dig in my purse for the top half of the tickets. In the mean time she looks at John and says, "THAT'LL BE EIGHT DOLLARS."

"For WHAT?" he asks with an edge to his voice that tells me that there is going to be a showdown at Gate 1 on the first night of the fair.

"FOR PARKING," she yells into the car. He says, "No, you don't get EIGHT DOLLARS," and points to the yellow parking sticker that is AFFIXED to the window.

"OH. JUST A MINUTE," she says and disappears back into the booth. In the mean time I have the top half of the seat tickets in my hand and I'm waving them at her. I glance over at John and I see him hit the end of his fuse. He yells out the window at another woman who looks like she is supervising the toll booth attendants, "YOU NEED TO GET THESE PEOPLE UP TO SPEED!" He's stabbing at the yellow sticker on the window. "I DON'T PAY FOR PARKING HERE!" He stabs at it again. Heat waves are lofting through the car while we sit there sorting this out. He's grumbling and grousing and I'm thinking that it's going to be a long damn week.

Next comes the flurry of excuses as to why no one recognizes the parking pass. I'm still waving the ticket stubs at the woman and she finally says, "I DON'T NEED TO SEE THOSE." I stuff them back in my purse, she hands us admission tickets (this is a tree-killing nightmare) and we finally move forward. They have this weird and totally inefficient set up, where you do all of the Gestapo crap at the gate, and then you drive ten feet and stop again. There you encounter the fair equivalent of the neighborhood welcome wagon, people suffering borderline heat stroke, who are there to take the admission tickets that you picked up ten feet back, hand you a booklet (more dead trees) that tells you what is going on at the fair (we don't care) and wish you a happy fair experience. It's been going on since my mother and I first came to the fair in 1995, and I'm sure long before that.

The gate that we normally go through requires that we drive almost all the way around a circular one-way road until we get to the barn parking entrance. There is Gestapo stationed at every entrance, and of course, you have to have the proper credentials to get into each entrance. There is parking inside of the circle, and outside of the circle. We park inside. There are crossings for the people who park outside. Some people use the crosswalks, most people don't. At each crossing there are two or three Gestapo crossing guards, big scary looking people who stare you down while they wave STOP signs at you. I sense that you don't want to mess with these people, so at each crossing I get a little edgy about my husband taking one on, because he is so out of patience with this whole process after "putting up with this crap for nearly forty years." You have to drive slowly and watch for people with baby carriages because they can come out of nowhere and end up under your car (a reoccurring nightmare that I have when we are here for the week). The ones without baby carriages and no children are fair game (no pun intended). I figure it they are stupid enough to step out in front of a moving vehicle they they have paid their money and are willing to take their chances with a man who is at the end of his fuse with the Kentucky State Fair.

Once we get to the horse barn entrance there is usually a little flurry of confusion about letting us into the parking lot. We do this seven nights in a row and on Saturday night they always have a huge concert with some big name entertainer so the traffic is murder. I have faith that the gate attendants will sharpen up as the week wears on. I hope so anyway or we will have a Waterloo with John and who ever gets in his way.

After the fair is over we are going to be traveling in Mary again. We have some fun stops planned so I'll take a lot of photos and upload to Facebook and keep up with this blog. I'll also be working on the other blog at www.silentpartneronline.com. It is much more complicated than this one to use, but if I ever figure it out it will probably be a better business tool, and give me more creative flexibility. I'm deep into Wordpress For Dummies at the moment.

Until next time...

Good luck to Phicicle and Tre Lee on Thursday night!

And congratulations to Paranormal and Tre Lee Sunday night!

Cowboy Up ... And Down

2010-07-27T18:03:00.000-07:00

The Jackson Five (number 6 is behind the camera)

Okay ... we've been busy. I know that's no excuse. I actually got a prompt from Kim Skipton on FaceBook, a polite reminder that I've been neglecting my personal blog. She commented on how she would like to see the photos of Wyoming that I posted on FaceBook on my BLOG. Got the hint.

I believe I left you in May. Since then the mares have all foaled and all is well with them and their new babies. They are in Shelbyville this year so I don't get to see them and take photos of them as often as I did last year. And we've been really busy so I haven't seen them in awhile. That's on the agenda for next week because we are actually going to be home. YAY!

We took Mary and headed down to Germantown in June. John agreed to judge the Germantown Charity show this year so we loaded up his judging duds and the dogs and hit the road for Memphis. We stayed out at the show grounds which I thought was pretty cool. It's such a beautiful area and the grounds are so nice. It reminds me of an old county fair setting and everything is so tidy, with flags and and flower baskets. Besides, John could walk to work. Bill and Mary Lynn Whitley were working the show too so we hung out with them some during the day and they worked at night.

There was a great place to walk the dogs, foot trails through the woods. We had to go early the first morning because they were predicting very warm temperatures. Boy was that an understatement. The entire time we were there (six days) the heat got more intense and the humidity got worse. Every night John had to wear a suit and tie and stand in a large bowl to judge and every night he came in at 11:00 soaked through his coat. It got to the point where we would take the dogs for a walk early in the morning and then we made short sprints out with them for potty duties while the sun was up, and then more time out after dark.

On the third morning I was working away on my computer when I looked down and saw something move on the seat where I was sitting. It was a little round bug with lots of legs and a little pattern on its back. "TICK!" I shouted and jumped up. John was dozing in his chair and my hollering nearly gave him heart failure. I grabbed a paper towel, wet it and scooped it up before it could get away. I drowned it in the kitchen sink. Then I sat down and hopped on the internet to find out what the hell kind of blood sucker the thing was. Wikipedia to the rescue. It was a common dog tick. From there I hit the floor with Breezy and started going through her hair. No ticks. Ransom was easier, little short haired guy that he is. Next I went to the calendar to see when they were due for their Frontline. The next week. Off to the pet store. I figured a few days early wasn't too soon to keep the nasty vermin from feeding on our fur babies. But that didn't help us.

Did you ever notice how when you encounter something in the insect world that can bite you and make you itch or some other such thing, that you become hypersensitive to every little hair that moves on your arm, or skin nerve that twitches, and it sends you into a fit of panic? Ticks freak me out. Not as much as mice do (I'm already planning my anti-mouse strategy for our time in Oregon this year) but I've seen first hand what kind of damage the shitty little blood suckers can do to horses, dogs and humans. And try to get one off of you once it has buried its nasty head in your skin and bloated into a little balloon of blood. Not nice.

The next morning we went for our walk and then had breakfast. John was playing with his new iPad (early birthday present) when a tick dropped out of nowhere onto his yellow shirt. I saw him jump and I flew into action, grabbing my wet paper towel and promptly drowning the thing.

Super-hyper-hyper sensitivity set in. We stopped walking in the morning and I became the dog walking Gestapo. Poor dogs. I wouldn't let them stand still in the grass unless they were actually doing their duties. I dragged them out and back in record time. Never mind that it was too hot to breathe outside, the entire grounds was hopping with dog ticks. I ventured down to watch a jumping Clydesdale one evening. For that I got sweat soaked clothes that stuck to me to the degree that I had to peel them off. For the most part I spent the rest of my time barricaded in the coach battling imaginary ticks.

I had a problem getting the license plate renewal for the coach. The car reminder came but the coach didn't. I renewed the car, thinking that the coach paperwork would come along any day. It didn't. I got online and renewed the plates but we couldn't get the tags before we left for Germantown. I had the paperwork in case we got stopped. About a week after we got home I got a letter in the mail from the City of Germantown. In the letter there is a photo of the back of the coach and the Camry going through an intersection. It was a ticket! First I thought that they got us for expired plates. I was so sure of it that I didn't read the ticket. A day or so later it struck me that the photo was taken while we were just entering the intersection so I went back and looked. Above the coach I could see that the light was red. Fifty bucks. I remember that light. Unfortunately we can't stop 50,000 pounds of motor coach on a dime. The speed limit through that area was 45 mph and I remember that there was no way to stop without creating an interior disaster area in Mary, was thankful that John didn't cram on the brakes to stop, and then I didn't think about it again. Don't you love this Big Brother crap?

Our next big adventure was out to Wyoming for our week of playing John Wayne in the Grand Teton National Park. What a great time! Jimmy and Helen Robertson, Andi Bittker and her boyfriend Eban and John and I spent seven days galloping across the Snake River Valley, riding up the mountainside and down, across the river and through the woods. Helen, Andi and I hiked 8. 2 miles on Wednesday and another 8 or so miles on Friday with the guys. We rode twice on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday with the guys, and floated down the Snake River for two hours after a dinner cookout. Saturday everyone rode but me because somewhere in my Calamity Jane escapades I thew my back out. Still working on that one.

The Last Night ... Worn OUT

Ranch Horses Coming In Early

I have been to some really gorgeous places in my life but I think that the Grand Teton National Park and Yellowstone is probably the most beautiful. I got to explore a lot of in on a dandy little trail horse named Diego. He was new to Triangle X. They take wonderful care of their horses, rotating them in the summer so that they don't have to work back to back weeks. They bring the herd in early in the morning from a big pasture across the highway and saddle them for their day's work. They have horses for all levels of riders. All are shod regularly and they are both fit and fat from summer grass. They work for 2 1/2 hours in the morning, get a break while we eat lunch and then for 2 1/2 more hours in the afternoon before they are herded across the road and spend all night out, knee deep in feed. Most of their work is done at a walk. We tended to take the fast rides, which meant that we galloped on the flat areas so that we could see more on our rides. Diego never laid an ear down and happily long trotted and galloped along with the rest of the horses.

Diego (in front) and John's horse Traveler on a riding break

John rode the horse that he had last time, Traveler. He is an older Missouri Fox Trotter that has been in the dude string for at least 8 years. He walks, trots, ambles and canters. Of course John found the amble gait immediately when he first got him and used it a lot. While we were consuming Advil and a massive rate, and tending to the raspberries and chaffing on our legs, he's telling us all how he isn't one bit sore, not one bit! He reminded us of that at least twice a day. We all scowled at him at least twice a day.

The hike that Helen, Andi and I took up in the mountains was nothing short of heavenly. It was difficult because we hiked up several steep switchbacks but we wanted to get to Cascade Canyon, a hike that none of us had done before. It was well worth the effort. We started by hiking part way around Jenny Lake. From there we went to Hidden Falls, a gorgeous spot. Then it was up to Inspiration Point, which John later renamed Desperation Point. We did that hike the last time we were there. This time we followed the trail out to Cascade Canyon. I wish I could describe it and do it justice. I'm not sure if it was the altitude (probably 7,000 feet) or the endorphins from pushing so hard up to Inspiration Point but I don't think I've ever been to a place where I felt more peaceful. It affected all three of us that way. We had a great day and came back with lots of pretty pictures and great memories.

My Hiking Buddies

For a complete web album of photos go to: http://picasaweb.google.com/tagfish1/Jackson2010#

Now for a book update. Today I got the mock up of the interior of the book and approved that. Then I had a phone consultation on the cover design. Within a week I'll have two mockup designs of the cover to look at. I'll consult with the designer and then we'll decide on a cover design. In the mean time I should get a digital draft of the book, which I will have my trusty proofreader go over and we will make any last minute changes before it goes to press. Best estimate is about three weeks to publication! YAY!

I've started another blog, using different blog site that is far more complicated than this one, but allows me more creativity. At the moment I'm struggling to understand the language of the more complicated blog but I did manage to get it up and I'm working on it intensely every day. I also have a copy of "WordPress For Dummies" on the way.

The address is: http://silentpartneronline.com. Check it out and let me know what you think. It's only been up for two days so there is a lot of work left to do. I will be posting excerpts from the book and updates on how it is coming along. Once it is out, you will be able to purchase it on Amazon.com and download it on Kindle and Barnes and Noble Nook. That won't all happen on the same day but I'll post the availability dates on the Silent Partner blog. Please feel free to pass on ideas. This is my first time through the process so I need all of the help I can get! If you read it and like it, please tell your friends and write a review on Amazon.com. I'll post a link for that once it is up on Amazon.

I hope you are having a terrific summer so far! Enjoy and I'll be blogging on this site (I know ... promises, promises) and the other one. I can be a little freer in my expression on this one so I won't give it up!

It's May!

2010-05-08T12:07:00.000-07:00

First new filly of 2010...she's a little shy

Where did February, March and April go?

Posting the quote for the month was more for me than anyone. I am amazed that it is May and my last post was in January. It has been an eventful time, some good events and some not good events but that's the way life goes sometimes.

I went back to see where I left off and had to search my memory banks so that I can finish the story that I started last year. Last year...that's pretty pathetic. One of the frustrations of middle age for me is losing my short term memory. But I probably already told you that.

And now, the rrrrrest of the story.

When we left Scottsdale, early on a sun kissed desert morning, we were in a bit of a hurry to get home. We had been gone for nearly two months and John wanted to get back for a day or two of the Tattersall's fall sale and a Halloween party that we had been invited to at The Castle in Versailles. We took a shorter, off-Interstate route to I-40 that took us through some beautiful cactus covered mountain country. John pushed Mary over hill and dale until we got to I-40 and then we pelted toward Tucumcari, New Mexico to spend the night. When we arrived and got into our spot John opened the door and the steps came out (as they should) but when he closed the door and the steps retracted, they pulled all the way in but the motor kept working as though it didn't get the message that the steps were in as far as they could go. Now we were both doing the big exasperated sighs. And my list of things to write to Guaranty RV about was not only growing, it was taking form with lots of angry words.

The next morning we got up early and hit it again blasting across the panhandle of Texas and into Oklahoma. Each time we stopped the steps repeated their routine only adding another few seconds to the over zealous step motor. John was so worried that the motor would burn out again that he decided to get under Mary in one of those picnic areas in middle of nowhere in Texas. It was hot out and the wind was blowing like a blast furnace. He put on an old tee shirt, got down on the hot blacktop, scooted as far under as he could get (she sits pretty low) and took a look. He didn't see anything. When he got up he had tar all over his Wranglers (which I'm still trying to get out by the way) and his tennies. The tee shirt was toast. So for the rest of the way home we limited our stops as much as possible and locked the steps into the out position at fuel stops. He was going to pull the fuse on the steps but we realized that Guaranty and absconded with the mounting block that we bought in Indiana two months earlier (when the steps quit working) when we were on our way out West. Another thing to add to the list ("...and to add insult to injury you stole our bleeping mounting block!!").

We made it the rest of the way in without burning up the motor but when John took her over to Bluegrass RV the guy got under her and said, "They didn't connect the ground wire." Apparently it was just hanging there.

The letter was very cathartic to write. It included all of the details of the things that they said they fixed that they apparently either didn't fix or did a half assed job of fixing along with the totals of what we spent (tapping that total out on my handy little calculator drained the blood from my brain for a few minutes), copies of the invoices from the other RV repair places, vivid descriptions of the discoveries and experiences connected to their inept work, or lack thereof and a demand that they reimburse us for a percentage of the work that they did. Then I had to call them (after emailing and getting nowhere) to find out where to send the letter. Even a question as simple as "To what address do I send a letter of complaint?" took a day to sort out and I ended up with two different addresses. To their credit (or perhaps to mine) they did reimburse us for the amount that I requested.

Zorro Jones (Halloween 2009)

Sister Karen (carrying son of Zorro)

Over the winter we had a few things done to Mary. We got her CB fixed finally...it never has worked...and she developed an oil leak while taking her winter rest so she went to our local diesel repair in Lexington to have a gasket replaced. Before we left for our first trip (which we are taking as I type) John had a local guy wash and hand wax her so she was sparkling when we took her out of her six month storage and hit the road.

We had plans to go to Key West for a week toward the end of February but A.J. Bruwer had a terrible horse accident breaking his leg badly a few weeks before we were to leave. John agreed to work his horses until he got back up and going so we were grounded for the balance of the winter and into the spring months.

Due to selling the Florida house this was the first winter that we spent in Kentucky in several years and it was one of the snowiest winters in recent history (thank you Murphy). We griped and groused our way through it (February is suicide-watch month for me and March is for John) counting the days until the daffodils peeked through the frosty ground. I planted them in our front flowerbed last fall and I was out there examining the ground with a magnifying glass every day until I saw the very tips of green bravely poking out of the bark. Dancing on the sidewalk ensued. I know our neighbors thought I had lost it. I did.

The extent of UK basketball madness at our house

We had to cancel our semi-annual spring trip to Scottsdale as well which added fuel to our winter madness. To make matters worse we were offered tickets to the SEC Tournament in Nashville to watch the Cats play but couldn't find a room or a spot for Mary anywhere in the vicinity. We were totally feeling sorry for ourselves by that time. We spent the winter living from basketball game to basketball game (and thanks to the Johnson's we got to go to two of them). It kept us away from bridges and gave us a reason to see it through. Then I got a call from my sister Linda in Oregon telling me that my Dad was sick and had just been admitted to the hospital.

My Dad (C.B. Fish) and step mother Barbara (in the middle) photographed with some bikers they met on one of their RV adventures (I come by it naturally!)

For nearly a week I got regular reports about his condition all the while we all were thinking and being led to believe by the doctors that he would get better. He didn't. We lost him on March 9th. He was 81. He had a wonderful life, an incredibly sweet and kind man, and when he passed on he was surrounded by all of his children and people who loved him. On March 13th I was getting ready to come home to Kentucky and looking forward to it when John called me and told me that Vic Arcuri (Tim's brother) had passed away. He was just 62. Vic had been sick for some time so we knew it was coming but it was tough none the less. He was a great guy with an open heart and a big warm smile for everyone he met. He had requested that John be a pall bearer so I changed my flight and booked John a flight out to Oregon. A week later, after the funeral we both came home.

I find that losing people you love gives you an opportunity to reflect and refocus. Perspective on the quibbles and grumbles of daily life comes in a mega dose. I'll continue to make light of the little irritations of life but in the big picture I'm very much more appreciative of each day of a healthy and happy life and all of the wonderful people (and critters) in it.

On to happier things now.

We took a fun trip out to California in April. We went to Palm Springs and stayed at Villa Royale, a boutique hotel which was Sonja Hennie's house back in the golden age of Hollywood. It was such a delightful spot. We spent two days with Arcuri's at their home in La Quinta which was fun (beautiful home and setting, great friends) and then we headed up to Santa Barbara for a couple of days at The Biltmore. That was almost indescribable. Historical, Spanish, luxurious, elegant, delicious, gracious...I could go on and on. What a treat!

Giant Fig tree at The Biltmore in Santa Barbara (John is standing under it)

Now we are in St. Paul, Minnesota. I'd post a photo but I don't have any yet (there's a reason for that). We left Lexington in Mary last Tuesday and drove up to Rock Island, Illinois for the night. We really didn't want to go through Chicago so we took the route through Iowa to I-35 and on in to St. Paul. On Wednesday we were doing great until we got half way through Iowa. I was comfortable in my seat reading when I felt Mary lurch to the right. I looked over at John and his jaw muscles were bulging. I looked out the window as Mary lurched to the right again. The trees looked like they had rubber trunks, swaying way over to the right and snapping back upright. "Wind," he said and sighed. We spent the next several hours being buffeted around the highway like the mammoth bread box that Mary morphs into in the wind. Just before we crossed over the Iowa, Minnesota border we heard a huge THUMP. We looked at each other. "What was that?" I asked. John didn't answer. It was quiet. Mary kept going. I knew we would figure it out sooner or later.

We've come a long way from our first adventure in Mary when a THUMP would have put us in a panic and on the side of the road!

The Biltmore

They are doing road construction on I-35 in Minnesota and in places had us on a two lane road with truck and trailer rigs ripping by us going the opposite direction. With the wind blowing and the wake from the trucks Mary was nearly unmanageable. John said that if he didn't have to be in the ring judging the next day that he would pull her over for the night. It really was that bad.

We got directions to the fairgrounds from Guy Warner. We arrived in Minneapolis at 5:00 and promptly got trapped in traffic and more road construction. I could see that the pilot was past tired. Finally we pulled into the fairgrounds where Guy met us. When I opened the door he said, "Are you aware that you are missing an air conditioner shroud?" The THUMP. "I knew something was wrong," I said as I got out and strained on my tip toes to see on top of the coach. I informed John and he used the appropriate expletives and then called Monaco. The guy there told him that the air conditioner would need to be covered with some plastic so that it wouldn't leak in case it rained. It has rained every day since then. And that's why I don't have any photos!

I got on the internet and looked up the local Walmart. We put the dogs in the car and took off in search of the Walmart. I stayed in the car while John shopped for plastic. He said he had duct tape (:-) ...gorilla tape actually and we have scissors so he crawled up on Mary and went to work. Unfortunately he didn't have his glasses on when he bought the plastic. He thought he got 7 MIL which would be very heavy plastic. In fact he had bought .7 MIL which is about the thickness of the plastic that they cover your clothes with at the dry cleaners. Exasperated from trying to manage the flimsy plastic on top of Mary in 45 mile an hour wind gusts he came down and said he got some on and asked if I would go and get some heavier plastic Thursday while he was judging. No problem. Then we had a scotch.

The next day I looked on the Internet for a Super Target. I needed to get a few forgotten food items and the plastic so that seemed to be the best place to go. I loaded Breezy and Ransom, set Genius (GPS) and he chattered at me until I found the Target store. I got a basket and went to work with my list. As I was shopping I was catching parts and pieces of conversations between other shoppers and clerks. I stopped at one point and smiled. "Fargo", I thought. There is a distinct lilt in the accent up here that left me feeling like I had traveled to a foreign country. At one point I realized that I just plain couldn't understand most of what was being said and I'm usually the one who is translating accents for everyone else. Like the mid-south the people up here are very friendly and helpful or very intense and serious, not much in between. People must feel somewhat the same way as I did when visiting Kentucky or the Carolina's for the first time!

It's Saturday and I just took John over to do his job for the evening performance. The fairgrounds is quite nice and the dogs have a great place to play if the weather would ease up. We bought Ransom and Breezy a new Frisbee to play with and kept the old one so that they each can have one to play with when we go out. I figured that would solve the problem of Ransom getting the Frisbee and running off with it. Unfortunately they both want the old one. We both threw the new one and they just looked at us like we were daft and then bounced around us trying to get the old one out of my hand. It is warped, permanently dirty and full of tooth holes but that's the one that they want. Dogs are like kids in many ways. Favorite binky, favorite blanket, no matter how worn and beat up they are. So for awhile I guess we will have to take the new one, leave the old one in the coach and let them maul the new one until it has the right scent, shape and texture to be pleasing. And Breezy will have to wait for Ransom to stop running around gloating when he gets the Frisbee.

As many of you know (most of you probably because I think John has told everyone in the Universe) I wrote a book. It is a work of fiction called "Silent Partner". I started it in 2005, finished the original manuscript in 2007, and have edited it to death. I'm on my third laptop since I started it...which may be a testament as to how long it took to finish or may be a statement on how hard I am on computers. Not sure which. What I know is that I could write a book about writing the book! Anyway, it is currently being professionally edited and will be in print and available on Amazon.com sometime in July if all goes well. I'm about to create a new blog for "Silent Partner" where I will detail my experiences with writing, publishing and marketing my project as well as posting excerpts from the book and other information. At this point I am planning on a website for it as well but I'm going to start with the blog being as I'm pretty comfortable with this format.

As soon as I have an address for it I'll post it here. I hope you will check it out! And I'll be back with more adventures on the road!

Arizona

2010-01-23T16:51:00.000-08:00

Leaving the Arcuri's farm in October

It's nearly the end of January. Where does the time go? I swear that yesterday it was Christmas!

When I left you we were on our way to Arizona for the Carousel Charity Horse Show. We left Springfield following Tim and Jeanne Arcuri in their new Monaco Dynasty pulling a pretty new four horse trailer with three horses aboard. They have had coaches before but not for a long time so they were feeling a little like we were two years ago when we picked up Mary in Wakarusa. Well maybe not that bad but coach technology has come a million miles in ten years. They are user friendly even to those who have zero experience with one. We can attest to that!

Mt. Shasta from the road

We followed the Arcuri's down to Mt. Shasta. It was a spectacular day and the Mountain was just breathtaking. We stopped at a rest area so that they could water the horses and we took the dogs out for a spin. The next part of the trip was through the mountain pass at Mt. Shasta so we parted company. They planned to drive through to Scottsdale and we planned to stop for the night. Besides, John is not a great follower. He leads well but following makes him a little tense. Once we were on the road we made great time. We spent the night outside of Redding and the next morning we were off to Needles. That is a fairly long haul and we weren't going to get in until late so I made a reservation at the KOA in Needles where we stayed once before. A great thing about KOA is that after hours they will leave the space number and instructions on the door when you pull in.

As planned we arrived around 8:30. It was dark and I had the directions to the KOA off of their website (very simple) but we had also programed the GPS (Genius I call it) with the address. The directions didn't match. So in the dark along the freeway I am telling John that the exit is upcoming and he is looking at Genius and telling me that it isn't for another few miles. We are both tired and cranky. He says, "What do I do?" I said something to the effect that Genius would win out over KOA anyway so follow Genius. Silence fell as we drove by the exit that the KOA website said to take (which also had one of those little yellow KOA tent signs on it saying "KOA THIS WAY"). It occurred me as we were driving in the dark that Genius sent us the direction that we left the KOA the last time we were there, which caused me to breathe again and stop painting disaster scenarios in my mind. We saw the familiar palm trees and the lights on the entry to the park but when we made the turn into the park I lost the feeling of familiarity. We pulled up to the office looking for the night box when a man in shorts with his hair standing straight up came out waving his arms at us. A strange conversation ensued. They had no record of our reservation but thankfully they still had a spot available. Being as we were bleary eyed we were grateful for that and he guided us in. It wasn't until we were parked and plugged in that we all realized that this was NOT the KOA but a park right next door. When you reserve a space on the KOA website and don't give them 24 hours notice they charge you for the space. In the end we didn't care. We were tired and just wanted to get set up, get something to eat and go to bed. When John said to the guy, "You must get a lot of business this way" the guy replied that they don't have to advertise but just rely on people getting lost. Okay...

Following Arcuri's trailer over Oregon pass

The next morning we got up really early and got ready to go. One of the last things I do before we go is to close the slides. Everything went well until I closed the bedroom slide on the driver's side. It's the one that the bed is attached to. Of the four slides on this coach all are hydraulic except the one with the bed which is run by an electric motor. What the reasoning is behind that I'm not sure but it's a fact. I hit that slide button last and when it got to the closed position I heard something go SNAP! My stomach sank. I stared at the button debating whether I dare try to move the slide out again. The part of me that can live in denial said "LEAVE IT ALONE". The other part that must know said, "PUSH THE BUTTON". I had a rousing 15 second argument with myself. The must-know part won. I pushed the "Slide Out" button and I heard the motor running but the slide wasn't moving. About that time John came in from checking the car's hookups and announced that all was well and we were ready to go. "Not quite," I said. "What's wrong?" he asked. I gave him the run down. He tried the button himself. I know that probably doesn't make any sense but I've done that. There is something in our brains that says that if I push the button instead of you pushing the button it will somehow miraculously work. Sometimes it does. But not this time. We found the small miracle in the fact that the thing died while the slide was in. If it was out it would have been an entirely different scenario.

On the road to Scottsdale

So we hit the road and John got on the phone with Monaco to find a repair place in Scottsdale. They gave us the name of a place called RV Renovators in Mesa. John made the call and they said that they would be happy to work on Mary when we got there which according to Genius would be around 2:30 in the afternoon.

We decided to take a different route to the Phoenix area this time. We took an exit toward Lake Havasu. The road was perfect and the scenery was beautiful. There was very little traffic (the sun was just coming up) and we hummed along until we got to the Lake. I didn't actually see the London Bridge but I saw all of the signs to it. My biggest surprise was how large the Lake is and how much of a city has sprung up around it. It is a beautiful spot!

We drove and drove and drove until we hit Interstate 10 and drove on in to Mesa. Genius guided us into Mesa and we found RV Renovators. John parked and went in to talk to them about our slide problem. He returned with a nice guy named Eddie who took one look at Mary and said, "Your ride height isn't right"

Unfreakingbelievable.

Some Eastern philosophies say that in order to achieve peace in your life you need to give up the idea of being right all of the time. I truly did not want to be right about what my eyes were telling me. Being wrong would have been wonderful. In an effort to make myself wrong, a few days before we left Springfield I put an egg on the counter in the galley. I willed it to sit still. It rolled to the right side of the coach. "Funny shaped egg," I told myself.

John and Eddie went to work on the bed leaving ride height for later. They propped the air mattress up and looked in the compartment beneath the bed. There they found the motor. They tested it. Eddie said, "I've never seen this happen before." The shaft that runs through the motor that turns the gears that moves the slide was broken in two. It is a half inch piece of steel rod and it just broke. Eddie went see if they had a motor that would fit. Before he left he told us not to hold out a lot of hope. Being as these things almost never break it was a long shot that they would have what we needed. The RV repair gods were smiling on us and he came back with a motor that fit! They spent some time installing it, closed up the bed and moved on to ride height. While Eddie was installing the motor John mentioned to him that we were having trouble getting the generator to turn over and that Guarantee looked at it but said they didn't know why either (hello?). Eddie said he would check it out after he fixed the ride height.

As it turns out the ride height measurement for Mary is supposed to be 9 inches on both sides. Any first grader would know that 9 inches on both sides is level. Eddie did the measurements and found that she was 8 on the right side and 10 1/2 on the left. Not only that, she had an "iffy" (according to Eddie) ride height valve. I tried to give Guaranty the benefit of the doubt but when I realized that she didn't pump herself up to ten and a half on the left all by herself that went out the window. An hour later she was level with a new valve. That was in October. In January she is still level. Thank you Eddie.

Next it was time to figure out why the generator had to be started with the booster switch. When we had it in the shop at Guaranty one of the things that they did (and charged us up the ying yang for) was to check the batteries. There are ten of them, eight house batteries and two chassis batteries. They said that they were corroded so they took them out, cleaned them up, painted the tray that they sit in and reinstalled them. Eddie decided to check on their work. He took his battery tester and put it on each of the batteries in the tray. He turned to John who was hovering over his shoulder. "Here. I want you to test them yourself." John took the battery tester and registered almost nothing...on all TEN batteries. They were shot. "That's why your generator isn't turning over," Eddie said. So they had to call their battery guy and have ten batteries delivered and installed. The clock was ticking along with my temper not to mention...ka-ching, ka-ching, the bills were stacking up. While they were waiting Eddie pulled the batteries out. John looked at the tray. I was sitting inside with Breezy and Ransom with the windows open (no air conditioning without juice) and heard John say, "The sonsabitches didn't even paint the tray!"

That's when I got the six page Guaranty receipt out of the file and started making notes on each of the supposed fixes. A letter was composing itself in my head. "Dear Guaranty Ripoff Center..." I was more furious about them putting us on the road with ten bad batteries than for charging us for work that never got done, being completely dishonest and idiots on top of it. At the end of the day (nearly 5:00) we handed them our now well used credit card, paid them for the labor and parts and drove away with a slide that worked, ten good batteries and a level coach. I also resolved to write a letter and send it with the documentation to Guaranty to request a refund of the charges on the items that they lied about. I would get some money out of them if it was the last thing I did on the planet.

So we managed to get through 5:00 traffic on the 101 in Phoenix and arrived at West World ready for dinner and a glass of wine. We set up (all slides worked) and met Tim and Jeanne who were settled in and ready to go to dinner. We went to our favorite haunt in Scottsdale, Earl's for a nice dinner. It's a cool restaurant with a great patio and an eclectic menu that is five minutes from West World. Earl's has done well by us in the last two years.

Mary and Arcuri's coach at West World

Really tired from the trip and time at RV Renovators we turned in early. When we travel at higher elevations the air bed changes to higher settings. If you are really high (and we have been at times) the elevation can pop the mattresses so I'm pretty diligent about checking them. I didn't think we went that high on our way into Scottsdale so I hadn't checked them during the day. This king sleep number bed has dual controls and they go from zero (flat) to 100 (like sleeping on a slab of granite). I got into bed and my setting was on 100. I grabbed the control unit and punched the button to move it back to 50 (my sleep number) but nothing happened. It didn't even light up. John came in and pulled the covers back to get in the bed when he saw the look of total exasperation on my face. "What's wrong?" he asked. "The controller is dead," I said. His response was a huge sigh. I said, "Never mind. We are too tired to figure this out tonight." So we slept (sort of). I think I would have been more comfortable on the dining table.

The next morning after breakfast we tackled the problem. John propped the bed up again and we looked at the new motor. It looked odd to me that there was a shaft sticking out of the thing that extended a good six inches beyond the motor itself. Nothing about that extension served a purpose. The plug for the mattress compressor was pulled out and lying on the floor next to the new motor. I picked it up and looked at it. The plug end was all bent. We discussed all of this and then John plugged it back in and we put the bed back together. John picked up the control and it was working. We decided to test the slide. We ran it in. The lights went out on the controllers again. Many expletives later we had the bed back up and were looking at the plug lying on the floor again. Then it dawned on both of us at the same time. The shaft coming out of the motor was knocking the plug out of the socket when we opened or closed the slide. Apparently this wasn't exactly the same motor that was in there before and when they were at RV Renovators they tested the slide but none of us considered that the controllers wouldn't work. So we brainstormed for fifteen minutes before John came to the conclusion that the simplest answer was to buy a hack saw and cut the shaft down to a size that would allow enough clearance to leave the plug in the socket.

"A hacksaw?"

He had that crazed "Tim The Tool Man Taylor" look on his face. There was no arguing.

In the short time that we had been at West World Tim had made at least ten trips to Home Depot for barn stuff and coach stuff. He loves Home Depot. John would call him and say, "Where are you?" He would hang up after a short conversation and say, "Tim's at Home Depot." My answer was always the same, "Again?" So he called Tim and explained what we figured out and Tim suggested that we all go to lunch (he also can eat more than 50 people and never gain an ounce) and then go to Home Depot for a hack saw. Over lunch Tim told John that he had to get a BIG hack saw so that he didn't hurt himself while sawing the half inch rod in two. John's eyes lit up. So off to Home Depot we went. Jeanne and I stayed in the car while the guys gleefully trotted off to the store. Fifteen minutes later they came back and John had the single most expensive, hugest hack saw that exists in the tool world. I just smiled and shrugged. "John The Tool Man Jones," I said to myself.

We got back to the coach and John commenced his project. He propped the bed up picked up his hack saw and in five short strokes the rod was cut in two. He put the bed back together and emerged from the bedroom triumphant. It took less than five minutes total. And it worked. The slide moves in and out without tearing the compressor plug out of the socket. And we both slept like dogs for the rest of the trip.

Early morning shot of West World

Next time I'll get into our trip back home. You would think after our lengthy list of repairs (and $$$$$$) along the road both out to Oregon and to Scottsdale that we good to go for the next two years. Not so. I'm happy to report that Mary is spending the winter in a large storage garage in Lexington and that as far as we can tell she is in perfect running order for our next adventure.

I hope your New Year is full of health, happiness and prosperity!

Of Mice and Men and Women

2009-12-21T08:24:00.000-08:00

Okay. So I hate mice. A lifetime of working in barns and living in climates that drive mice indoors in the fall has left me with a near phobia of creatures that dash across the floor at the speed of light and without fail end up under the stove or refrigerator in the kitchen...conscious-less critters that seek only to terrorize, eat and poop. The only critters that I fear more are their super sized cousins, rats and the Godzilla of all rats, opossums.

Before I get on with the saga of rodent control in Mary I have to tell you a story that just jumped out of my memory bank. Several years back I took a major detour in career and decided to become a hair dresser. I met so many nice people and had so many fun experiences and a few not so fun ones. I probably could write a book about the things that happen when you stand behind the chair for a living but this one is a standout.

It was 1993. I had just begun my career and I was working for Jana, a really nice woman who owned a small three chair salon in St. Helens, Oregon, an old dying mill town that sits on the Columbia River and has a perfect view of Mt. St. Helens in Washington. The salon was at the far end of the downtown core. She also had a manicurist, Jackie who worked three days a week. It was August and the afternoon temperatures had been pushing to the mid-nineties all week. The little salon did not have air conditioning so we would prop open the front door and the back door to keep air circulating. If you stood in the front door you would look over a roll top desk into the salon area and from there into the back room where there was a washer and dryer, sink and storage for our supplies. It was a straight line of sight from the front door to the back door and probably only 25 feet or so.

View of Mt. St. Helens from Oregon

On a sweltering afternoon I had a break in my schedule so I went downtown to get a birthday gift for my sister. When I returned I parked outside on the street so I walked into the front of the salon. Jana was getting her nails done and she and Jackie were gabbing. I got to the front of the roll top desk when something caught my eye in the back room. The door was open in the back so it was well lit. The voice in my head whispered "rat". The hair stood up on my arms. "Ah...ah...ah..." I stuttered as both Jackie and Jana looked at me with puzzled expresions.
Apparently I had lost all color in my face and my eyes were standing out of my head. My brain replayed what I saw, a King Kong dark brown mouse...no a ra-ra-rat had just danced across the floor of the supply room. "RAT!" I screamed and before I knew what I was doing I was standing on the deck of the roll top desk with my little gift bag in my hand. Jackie jumped on her manicurist chair and Jana jumped into action. I was stunned to watch her march into the supply room and slam the door that separated the salon from the back room. Jackie and I looked at each other in complete and utter terror. We heard crashing and banging in the back room. Then it went quiet. The door opened and Jana came out with a broom in her hand. "He ran under the supply cabinet and I can't get him out," she said in a very calm tone. I was thinking that this was the bravest woman I ever met. In a quivering voice Jackie said, "I'll call Brad." That was her boyfriend. Inside of 20 minutes Brad arrived to save the day. He chased the filthy rodent out of the supply room and we all sat down and breathed a sigh of relief. It was quiet for a minute and then I said, "Does anyone find it odd that a rat showed up in the middle of the afternoon on a sunny day and decided to take refuge in a salon with no air conditioning?" We all looked at each other with blank expressions.

I went home that night and recounted my story to my ex who said, "I hope it wasn't rabid or something." Multiply a large number of those thoughtful sentiments by 13 years and you'll understand why he is my ex. I spent the night tossing and turning and having RABID RAT nightmares. The next morning I went to work.

View of historic hotel in St. Helens

I had a 9:00 frost and haircut to do on a client who was Jana's best friend Jill (Jana didn't do color). Jill arrived and I draped her in a dark purple cape. She was eating a cup of vanilla frozen yogurt for breakfast. I put her frosting cap on and started pulling strands of hair through the cap with a crochet hook until she looked like a big purple cactus (frosts are not a pretty thing when you are doing them).

Jana came in and decided that it was getting too warm so she propped the front door open. I thought is was getting too warm too but given the events of the prior day I was willing to sweat it out. The waiting area which was situated by a large window in the front of the salon was full of white wicker furniture and was visible from where I was standing. Jana was on the phone at the desk while I was busy chatting with Jill when out of the corner of my eye I saw a rat run past the desk, make a hard left under the wicker couch and then ran the perimeter of the salon finally dashing into the back room. This happened so fast (and at the same time in slow motion) that I barely had time to register my disbelief in my what my eyes were seeing. I remember thinking that I was still asleep in my bed and this was part of my succession of "Willard" nightmares. Not possible my mind screamed as I recorded the vision of the hugest rat I had ever seen. Of course it was the only the second rat (in less than 24 hours) I had ever seen in person which probably added to the drama of the moment. He had to weigh 30 pounds if he was an ounce and had a tail that was at least 10 feet long. He was demonic gray with shark like beady eyes. And fangs. Big fangs. It's amazing what your mind can create when you are terrorized. Apparently while all of these thoughts were playing out in my head I again screamed "RAT!". I jumped on Jana's salon swivel chair (crochet hook in hand) where I moved around in slow circles trying not to fall off. On one of my trips around I caught a glimpse of Jill. I'll go to my grave with this picture in my head. She was standing on my salon chair (which I had locked so she wasn't spinning), her blond hair standing at attention (sticking out of the frosting cap), purple cape hanging to just below her knees with melted vanilla frozen yogurt streaming down the front of the cape. I think when flight syndrome kicks in still shots are forever emblazoned in your memory.

Okay, so the rat is in the back room and Jill and I are standing catatonic on the chairs. Jana calmly hangs up the phone and then runs to the back room and slams the door BEHIND her. We hear clattering and crashing and then heard the back door slam. Jana walks out and props the broom against the wall. "He's gone," she says. "Are you sure?" Jill and I chimed in unison. "Yeah," she says as Jill and I climb down from our perches. "How can you be so calm?" I asked her. She said, "I had a pet rat when I was a kid." I couldn't stop myself, "Jana, these are not pets. These are wild sewer rats roaming the streets in broad daylight. Something isn't right with this." I truly thought I was living out a horror movie script. With that I got on the phone and called the city of St. Helens. I explained about two rats in two days and asked if there is some reason that rats are roaming the streets. The nice woman said, "Oh yes. They are doing sewer blasting downtown and it is running the rats out of the sewer." I shivered. "Thank you," I said and hung up. The next week at work was pretty tense and very hot because pet rat or not I refused to agree to an open door policy in the salon until the blasting was done. I have not seen another rat since then (there is a God) but I've seen tons of mice.

So after I discovered that there had been a mouse in the drawer in Mary I took a deep breath and started opening drawers and cupboards throughout the galley. This mouse had been everywhere. I filled the sink with blazing hot water and soap, got the spray disinfectant and went to work cleaning and washing everything that was in the drawers and cupboards. This mouse actually ate the end off of the spatula that I used to make scrambled eggs! I declared war. And I needed a comrade to do the tough stuff. John. Two hours later we loaded up and went to the local grocery store and bought four of the old fashioned mouse traps and a jar of peanut butter. We bought two containers of D-Con which I hate because I'm always afraid that a mouse will eat it, go outside and die and a bird will eat the mouse and die. Besides, I hate mice with a purple passion but that stuff is poison and not a quick kill. But I agreed to use D-Con as a last resort. John set two traps (not before tons of snapping traps and cussing) inside of the cupboards and put two in the bays of the coach. He said, "Now what?" I said, "You will need to check your trap line every couple of hours or so." He cracked up. "Trap line?" Oh yes, this is serious business.

Later we were getting ready to go out to dinner. It was about 5:00 and as I was rearranging my hair I heard the trap in one of the cupboards snap. "Got one!" I hollered. John came out of the bathroom. "Where?" he asked. "In the cupboard." He slowly opened the pan cupboard. He closed the door again. "He's still in the throws," he said. "I'll get him out before we leave." The goosebumps made their now now routine trek up and down my arms. One of the bad things about having a mouse in a confined area is that I'm sure I see them dashing EVERYWHERE. I'm constantly jumping out of my shoes because I'm sure I saw one running across the floor. Most often it is my paranoid mind. I sat down with Ransom and we had a talk. "Now I know your heritage is part rat terrier and mice are probably beneath you but if you see one..." Ransom slept through the entire mouse experience.

Recipient mouse pasture at dusk

John disposed of the dead mouse (my hero), reset the trap and we went to dinner. When we got back I got the dogs and took them for a walk while he checked his trap line. As I as coming back I saw him coming out of the coach with a trap in each hand, dead mouse in each trap. THREE MICE. He jettisoned the mice into the pasture and then pulled the traps out of the bays. Two more dead mice. FIVE MICE. They must have put the word out to the entire mouse population of Springfield! I could see the bulletin: "Calling all mice! There is a giant luxury motor coach located at 37691 Upper Camp Creek Road. It's heated and there is FOOD for the winter. Only two freaked out humans and two lazy dogs. Come one, come all!"

We killed off an entire family of mice that night. The word of the massacre must have spread like wildfire through the mouse community on Camp Creek Road because after the initial five mice we didn't find another mouse in the traps and no sign anywhere close to it. Before we folded our tent and headed for Arizona we had a former employee of Monaco Coach come and help John replace a torn awning, adjust the entry door and work on the air compressor that levels the coach when it is parked. We were satisfied that Mary was fixed. Boy were we in for a surprise.

I have to tackle a list of things to do for Christmas. If all goes well I'll be back soon to fill you in on our adventure to Arizona! I hope the holiday season has been fun for all of you so far! And HAPPY WINTER SOLSTICE!!! The days get longer from here! YAY!!!

Chapter Two

2009-11-16T12:31:00.000-08:00

Okay Brookie. Here we go. Your suite is spotless and ready for a visit by the way :-)

Perfect day on the Oregon Coast

When I left you we were having a perfectly wonderful dinner at King Estate Winery with the Arcuri family. The following morning we loaded up our coaches (they just took possession of a new Monaco Dynasty...beautiful thing!) and headed to the Oregon coast. Last year John and I spent two days at Outdoor Resorts in Newport. It was where Ransom found freedom from the leash for the first time since we adopted him and is without question the nicest RV resort that we've been to anywhere. Once again we had perfect weather and a beautiful view of the ocean, lighthouse and coastal range. And great company! John, Ryan and Tim played horseshoes, we all walked on the beach and the dogs all had a blast.

Horseshoes on the coast

On Tuesday we got up and drove back over the Coast Range to Junction City to drop off both coaches at Guaranty RV Service. Tim and Jeanne's coach needed work on the satellite television and Mary had a long list of issues that had piled up over the nearly two years that we have had her. As we traveled I compiled the list. At the bottom I added, "Vibration in center of coach." John read the list and when he got to the bottom he gave me the skeptical look. I honestly felt like a terrible nag about the whole thing so I told him that if they look and don't find anything I will shut up about it. Then I added that I KNOW something is wrong because all of that shaking isn't normal for any vehicle. Okay. So we pulled into the Guaranty parking lot and a nice man named Dean arrived with his clipboard to go over our list. One by one he jotted the issues down on his sheet. When John got to the vibration issue I almost cringed. John said, "My wife says...and I know she is probably right but...she says that there is a vibration in the back when we are traveling down the road. I can't feel it but she says it vibrates." Dean immediately said, "I believe you have a ridite issue." Puzzled I asked, "What is ridite??" He smiled. "Ride height," he said. "When I walked up to your coach I saw that it is leaning hard to the right. When it isn't level it torques the drive line and you can experience a severe vibration." I had to smirk. I really tried not to but I just had to. And I was immensely relieved that I hadn't lost my mind and imagined the shaking. He told us that leveling the airbags would probably take care of the problem.

Sidebar: I drove the Mercedes home from Florida in July when we sold the house. I followed John, Mary and the Camry roughly 900 miles from Vero Beach to Lexington and a couple of times I mentioned that it looked as though the coach was leaning to the right. I didn't get a response. I mentioned it again when I looked at her parked in her spot at the farm. "The ground isn't level." Okay. I mentioned it again when we left for our trip and I drove behind her to hook up the car in Indiana. I got a scowl so I didn't mention it again until we got to Joseph and I followed her into the campground. "It's really leaning to the right." I was also pointing out that there was a severe banging noise in the engine so the "leaning to the right" thing fell on deaf ears.

So we got into the Camry and drove to the Arcuri's farm where they so graciously put us up for the three days that it was supposed to take to fix Mary's laundry list of problems. Dean also said that they would do a free roof inspection while they had her there. Great!

Three days later we were headed for Junction City again, not to pick up the coach but to pick up some more clothes because they didn't expect to have the work done for another three days. When we arrived Mary was in the shop. We got our things and left, planning to spend part of the upcoming weekend at the Arcuri's home in Terrebonne, Oregon with some friends of theirs. We expected to pick Mary up when we got back. John called first thing on Monday morning. She still wasn't done but he was assured that the work would be done very soon. "How soon is very soon?" I asked. He frowned and said, "I don't know but they better get it done SOON".

In the next three days John's mission was to harass Dean at Guaranty to get the work done on the coach and get it back to us. I know he called at least three times a day. Every time he called he got another reason why the work that yesterday was "being done right now" was actually not done and there were still five things left to do. It was frustrating and bordering on ridiculous.

Pocket Arcuri

Nine days as house guests of the Arcuri's was making us feel like freeloaders (they were so gracious) not to mention the problem with Ransom and Andy the cat. Ransom being the little ratter that he is just can't resist chasing things that will run (remember the rabbit up in Pennsylvania?). Well Andy is a wise old black cat who lives in the house full time. Arcuri's have several dogs, one of which lives in the house (her name is Pocket and she doesn't have any teeth) and Pebbles, a highly energetic Border Collie type who sleeps in the kennel but is a house dog when Jeanne is home. So Andy gets dogs. But neither Ransom nor I knew that.

So the first day we moved into the guest room Jeanne was gone and I was busy unpacking with the guest room door open when out of the corner of my eye I saw Ransom and Andy squaring off. Ransom was locked on and Andy's hair was standing up on his arched back. Arcuri's house is a multi-level home with lovely hardwood floors throughout and lots of small landings and steps. The guest room was at the top level and the master bedroom and living room at the bottom level. I opened my mouth to warn Ransom to leave the cat alone but before I could utter a sound he took off after Andy. I jetted after the two of them, hollering "RANSOM YOU STOP NOW!!!" but before I could catch up with them they disappeared into the master bedroom. All I heard was the sound of Ransom's toenails on the hardwood and Andy's growl and then it was quiet. "Ransom!!!" I hollered repeatedly. Still dead quiet. I had visions of him with nothing but Andy's tail hanging out of his mouth as I stormed through the bedroom looking for him. I found him cowering in the walk-in closet and Andy was no where to be found. "Get your little ratter ass out of this closet!" I pointed at the door and he scampered out and made a dash for the guest room.

Ransom "Ratter-Catter" Jones

I couldn't find Andy. I was panicked. Where was the poor cat? Was he permanently traumatized by my prison-escapee dog? How would I explain this to the Arcuris?

A little later I went out to the kitchen to fill the dog water bowl and there was Andy sitting on the top of the breakfast bar. If I didn't know better I would say that he was smiling. I looked him over and he looked fine.

When Jeanne got home I explained what happened and how sorry I was that Ransom behaved so badly. She just laughed. And laughed some more. Then she explained that if Andy didn't want to be chased he would have held his own with Ransom. I thought she was being polite. The Ransom/Andy scene played itself out two more times in the next two days. I was mortified. Finally I was home when Jeanne brought Pebbles in the house. Pebbles is about the size of Breezy but a little lighter weight. She and Andy went to boxing and playing with Pebbles knocking Andy around and then Andy smacking Pebbles around. After that I would keep Ransom with me and Andy would come around and tease Ransom. I know he knew that Ransom would get into trouble if he chased him and that became the game for Andy...get Ransom in trouble. He succeeded on several more occasions before we got Mary back.

Finally the day came to pick Mary up. We were both so happy. She would be all fixed and we would have our space back and not have to be under foot at Arcuri's house. I drove John over to Guaranty and followed him back to the farm. After we pulled out on to Hwy 99 a little voice said, "The coach is still listing to the right." I said out loud, "Shut up. It's fine." We got on the freeway and the voice came back. "It's not level." I shook my head hard to silence what my eyes and brain were telling me. We parked her and moved back in. It felt great. The next day I got out and looked at her from behind. Not level. But I wasn't going to say anything.

Arcuri's left for the Morgan Grand Nationals in Oklahoma City a few days later and John took over working the Saddlebreds and a few of the Morgans that were left at home until they got back. One day I went to town to get groceries and when I came back I found John sitting in front of Mary with a completely dejected look on his face. I got out of the car. "What's the matter?" I asked. "I"m beat. I'm whipped. I can't deal with this anymore," he said as he led me around to the driver's side of the coach and pointed up to the top. "Look," he said slump shouldered. I squinted and when I saw what he was pointing at I felt weakness in my knees. The roof is put on the coach like a cap with the edges attached six or eight inches down the side and then covered with a bead. From the middle of the cap on the driver's side all the way to the back (keep in mind she is 42 feet long) the cap had pulled away from the coach. There was a big space between where it used to be attached and where it was now located. It appeared to me that the cap was coming off. More visions of disaster loomed in my mind. Cap peeling off...water getting into the sides of the coach...thousands and thousands of dollars worth of damage. I said in a weak voice, "It might not be as bad as it looks," while my internal doomsday voice screamed, "This thing is going to bankrupt us!!!". John made some calls to try to figure out what in the hell was happening but in the end we were left with only one option. Guaranty...again. Dean was kind and said to bring her in first thing in the morning and he would look at her. When we sat down for dinner that night I looked across the table at John and said, "Gee, I'm sure glad that they did that free roof inspection. They resealed the skylight over the shower (the one that our coach washer stepped through and broke in March) for $650.00 but missed the fact that the f**king roof is peeling off." It was a lost night for sleep.

The following morning I followed him back to Guaranty again making note of the fact that the coach was not level. When we arrived Dean came out, looked at the roof and told us not to panic, that it may not be as bad as it looked. By this time I had brought up the fact that they needed to check the ride height again so Dean made note of it and we left to go back to the farm. John worked horses that day and then we got the call. It truly was not as bad as it looked. They blamed it on Monaco for not putting long enough screws in to attach it securely. They also said that they checked the ride height and it was fine.

"No it isn't," the voice in my head said. "Just shut the hell up," I said back. "This thing is going to drive me into the nut house before it is over," I said to my other voice. No shit.

View from Mary at Arcuri's farm

We settled in for two really beautiful weeks on the farm. The weather was so cooperative and the fall colors were stunning. I got to see lots of my family and friends and we just enjoyed the stay so much. And then it happened.

A day before we were supposed to pick Arcuri's up at the airport I got up in the morning and did my usual thing. I started the coffee, took the dogs out for a spin and fed them. When I opened the utensil drawer to get the can opener out I froze. Goose bumps ran up my arms. "Uh oh." John was sipping his tea and his head snapped around. "What is it?" I stepped back and pointed to the drawer. "We have a mouse." He must have been sleepy because he asked me an odd question. "What do we do about that?" I looked at him and said, "I don't know about you but I'm moving out." I slammed the drawer shut and willed my goose bumps to go away. They weren't cooperating.

I have a long history of mouse encounters. They are not my favorite creatures in the world. To say that I loathe mice is the understatement of the universe. They are filthy, can get in anywhere, will eat anything and poop all over EVERYTHING.

I'll stop here and take up with the mouse saga next time. I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Rx for the RV

2009-11-10T14:57:00.000-08:00

Wallowa Lake, Joseph, Oregon

We left Kentucky the day before the All American Cup in Indiana, early in September. We stopped there to see the weanling class and then raced across Interstate 80 to Oregon. We only slowed down when we got to Utah and decided to smell the roses a bit on our way to Arcuri's farm.

We began having a few problems with Mary in the summer, like the motorized steps on the entry door quit working and a dozen other little things. She was due for several systems services so we made an appointment with Guaranty RV's service department in Junction City, Oregon for September 22. More on Guaranty later.

Chilling in Joseph

We were on a bit of a timeline to get to Oregon because we were due to be in Springfield on the 18th of September for Jeanne Arcuri's birthday and wanted to stop in Joseph, Oregon to see my aunt and uncle not to mention a weekend trip to the coast with a return on Monday so we could drop Mary off for her repairs. The day before we left Kentucky a bolt vibrated out of one of the big fan belts and Mary had to be rushed to the local diesel repair shop to be fixed. That's when they discovered a squeak in the other belt but told us that it would hold until we arrived in Oregon. It did hold...but it squealed every second of our trip across the country. It drove me nuts so I can only imagine how the dogs felt about all of the noise. John is effectively deaf to high pitched noises so he drove blissfully while I took pain reliever for the headache.

Deer totally unconcerned by our presence

Most RV parks and parking areas have the name and number of a mobile RV repair person (I'm learning that there is very good reasoning behind that) so when we were at the Indiana Fairgrounds we paid a guy to come out and see if he could fix our steps. John had purchased a mounting block (for non-equine types this is a molded plastic set of steps that you can use to get on a horse) from Chuck at World Champion's mobile tack unit. It is a rather giant step up and/or down from Mary without steps. Anyway, the repair guy came and spent a few minutes and then told us that they didn't work. We knew that. And that would be $153.00 please. An RV tip: Some of the guys that service the RV parks are really good and reasonably priced...some aren't. So John stowed the red plastic mounting block in a bay and had to jump out and get them set at the door so the dogs could negotiate getting in and out. We were pretty proud of the whole step idea...pain in the ass or not.

So we were driving along Interstate 80 after we left Indianapolis listening to the fan belt squeal when we both heard a beeping noise. John searched the cockpit area for the source of the warning noise and spotted a red light on the dash board with tiny letters that said "Step Out". We looked at each other and both of our eyes bugged at the same time. I dove onto the right side of the dash board to look in the side mirror to see if somehow the step motor had started while we were driving and they were indeed hanging out there at 70 miles per hour. There are rather dire warnings in "The Bible" (the Monaco users manual) about traveling with the steps out and what the ensuing damage would be to the side of the coach if they got hung up on something at high speeds. They paint a vivid picture for you. John kept asking me, "Are they out?" and I kept answering "No, I don't see any steps." We repeated that question and answer cycle as the beeping continued until I looked at him in total exasperation. "NO. THE STEPS ARE NOT OUT," I said. "We better pull over," he replied. "Fine," I said and plopped down in the co-pilot's seat. It turned out that the motor was trying to work but didn't have enough umph to push them all the way out. In order to stop the beeping he took duct tape (yes, he really put duct tape on the outside of the coach) on the steps.

Remember when the water bay door handle broke off in his hand when we were in Oregon last year and he had to spend hours trying to figure out how to get the door open and when he finally did he came in to announce his success and the weight of him stepping into the coach jarred the bay door and it fell shut again? Well the bay door handle broke again when we were spending the weekend at a national park in Kentucky in early August. Anymore when he says, "You're not going to believe this," I brace myself. So he figured out how to keep the bay door closed with a bungee cord. Once again we had a light on the dash board and a beeping noise telling us that there was a bay door open all the way from Western Kentucky to Lexington. When these things happen I hear a lot of big sighs and I know we are in for a lot of roadside stops for adjustments. He ordered a new handle (probably should buy them by the dozen) and it was delivered to us in Lexington. He couldn't find anyone to put it on so we drove across the country with a bungee cord holding the door closed. The water bay is where you empty the holding tanks so the bungee cord got a pretty good workout from Kentucky to Oregon.

Once the bay door was secured we decided that the repair could wait until we got to Oregon and Guaranty RV service could do the tricky work of replacing the door handle. Before we would have relied on our friends at Monaco Coach but they went broke (yep), reorganized, sold the company and reopened recently but don't have their service department up to speed yet.

Our last stop before heading to Oregon was Louisville for the World Championship Horse Show for a week. For that show we take two cars because I travel back and forth from the KOA to home to water the plants and pick up the mail during the week. So John took off with the coach and the Camry and I came about an hour later with the 4-Runner and the dogs. When I arrived at the KOA he met me outside of the coach. "You're not going to believe this," he says. My shoulders slumped. "What now?" I asked. "The front passenger-side slide out won't slide OUT," he said. So we piled into the coach (the steps still worked at that point) and he said, "See," and pushed the button that extends the slide. I heard the motor working and the front part of the slide was sliding but the back bottom part wasn't and at a certain point it was torquing the entire slide. I waved madly, "STOP!". I had visions of a badly bent slide out and massive repairs. Of course every man in KOA who noticed that we were having a problem wanted to conference with John about it and every time they thought they could help if they could just see it work so the torquing went on three more times before my nerves couldn't take it anymore. When that happens I must get a particular look on my face because I looked at John and he said, "Okay. I'll stop." We decided that we needed to find someone to look at it. As it turned out the KOA had the name of a repair guy who moonlights from his day job at an RV agency. John called him and scheduled him for the next day when he was going to be showing a horse to someone. The guy showed up on time and he was pleasant and I explained what the slide was doing. He tried it and when it started to torque he stopped and said, "That's not good." No kidding.

So the repair guy opened a low cupboard, removed a panel in the back of it and peered into the area where the slide's mechanical parts are located. His pointed his flashlight this way and that saying, "Humm," and "Wow," and "Weird," until I couldn't take it anymore. "WHAT do you see in there?" I asked. "The entire thing just fell apart," he said. "Fell apart?" I replied. "Yep. It looks like it just VIBRATED loose and the hardware in on the floor," he said as he contorted himself into a pretzel and retrieved the parts. In 30 minutes it was back together and working. I wrote him a check for $112.00, he threw in an adjustment to the shower door and was on his way. He was a good RV repair guy.

View from the tram going up to Mt. Howard

As you probably noticed I emphasised "VIBRATED" twice in the last few paragraphs. This would be because since last spring when we left Florida for Arizona I've been noticing and complaining (which turned into pleading and then into nagging) about a bad vibration in the body of the coach when we are traveling. I spend a good deal of time in the front doing my navigational duties and enjoying the scenery but every so often I make a trip to the back to grab a snack or use the bathroom and when I do I notice a serious vibration. The cushions on the couch vibrate off and the silverware in the drawer rattles and the dining table bounces to the point where I can't keep my fingers on the keyboard of my computer. Once I tried to lay down in the back and it was like someone started one of those old Magic Fingers machines that you used to get in hotel rooms (drop a quarter in and your bed vibrated until you nose itches). I've mentioned this vibration often enough that it has been looked at twice, wheels and tires and alignment checked and each time they have told us that there is nothing wrong with the coach.

Right.

Our first pleasant discovery on our journey was a small town called Garden City in Utah. It is the home of Bear Lake and the area and the lake are spectacular. We spent the night at the local KOA where we thought we would enjoy a peaceful evening. When we pulled in there were mostly empty spaces and after sleeping along I-80 for two nights we were ready for some peace and quiet. So we got set up and I made dinner and after dinner as I was finishing up the dishes John came in and told me that he had set up our chairs outside and suggested that I come out and enjoy the evening. That sounded like a great idea so I finished tidying up and stepped into the doorway. Before I could get one foot on the mounting block to exit the coach I discovered that John was visiting with two guys that were parked next to us. One was holding an adorable little puppy. I stopped in the doorway and sat down while they talked about their trips out west and told us about their puppy. They were very nice but extremely chatty and before it was over was giving them the tour of Mary, who wasn't as neat as I would prefer for guests. Just my neurosis at work. When they said goodnight and left it was dark out and I realized that I never did get out of the coach. John put the chairs away for our early morning departure and we went to bed.

One view from Mt. Howard

Another RV tip: If you value your privacy you probably don't want to buy a coach or fifth wheel unless you own your own remote RV pad somewhere. RVers love to share their experiences and

So we left the next morning and had a beautiful drive through the mountains, down through Logan and onto Interstate 84 on our way to Joseph. We decided to stop in Baker City, Oregon for the night and then drive the three hours or so to Joseph the next day. While we were in Baker City we discovered that the rubber around Mary's windshield had popped out on the driver's side. John fixed that and we were off to Joseph.

Joseph, Oregon is probably one of the prettiest, most peaceful places I've been in my life. I grew up in Oregon but Joseph (former home of the Nez Perce Indians) is way up in the northeast corner of the state. I managed to get into my 30's before I ever made a trip up there. They say it looks as much like Switzerland as anyplace in the U.S. We arrived at the far end of Wallowa Lake and located the RV park where Mary was going to stay for two nights. It was a nice park but VERY tight to get around in with that big bus. John snaked around until we had to stop and take the car off so that he could negotiate the turns into her space. When I jumped out of the coach (no red steps) the first thing I heard was a loud banging noise coming from Mary's engine. Once she was parked I mentioned it to John, who really wasn't in the mood to hear about any more problems with Mary. He just groaned. Then he listened. And then he groaned again. "Add it to the list," he said.

We spent to wonderful days in Joseph. We took the tram up to the top of Mt. Howard, a 15 minute ascent and the longest tram ride in America (seriously). We ate lunch at the top at the Summit Cafe and took photos from various view points. Twice we hiked up to a gorgeous waterfall with the dogs and took in the incredible mountain air and the sheer beauty of the lake and surrounding mountains. We also took a tour of Valley Bronze, a local foundry that produces the work of sculptors from around the world. It was fascinating to learn the painstaking process of creating a mold that will reproduce long hours of work by the artists. Artists themselves, the foundry workers are pleasant and forthcoming with answers to questions about how the work is done. And then I got to see my aunt and uncle who live a good hour and a half north of Joseph. They own 80 acres in a beautiful valley that snows in during the winter. They have lived off of the grid for 15 years (way before it was popular to talk about much less do), growing a lot of their own food and enjoying a life in an area that is nearly untouched by civilization as most of us know it. We had fun catching up with them over lunch in the little town of Joseph.

Larger than life size bronzes outside Valley Bronze

From there we loaded up and headed down the Columbia River Gorge to Portland to visit with my 81 year old father. Mary squealed and banged all the way down the River, which was every bit as spectacular to me as the first time I experienced it. I just marvel at the sheer size of it as it works its way down to the Pacific Ocean. We arrived to a cloudy and rainy evening in Aurora. We grilled steaks in the rain and had a few scotches and had a wonderful visit with Dad before we turned out the lights and attempted to sleep to the sounds of Interstate 5 and a nearby trucks stop. Translation: Not much sleep. In the morning we took off for Springfield for two days at the Arcuri's farm and a birthday celebration at King Estate Winery with the Arcuri family. This establishment is difficult to describe without using "Wow" a lot. The winery sits on top of a giant hill where in any direction you look you see grape vines rolling and snaking over hills. The food was fabulous, the wine wonderful and the company was the best. We sat outside and the weather cooperated to the fullest with mild, shirt sleeve temperatures all the way into a moonlit evening. It was just...wow!

And like a total moron I forgot my camera.

I'll end the post here and take up again with our trip to the Oregon Coast the day after our wonderful dinner at King Estate Winery and tell you about Mary's visit(s) to Guaranty RV. To give you a hint I'm still dealing with Guaranty RV and we have been in Lexington since just before Halloween. And I'll fill you in on how the mystery of the VIBRATION was finally solved.

Travel Log Coming

2009-10-29T16:35:00.000-07:00

Fall at Arcuri's farm

Shame on me for not keeping this blog up during our trip out west! We traveled through 13 states and were away for 8 weeks. We visited the mountains, the coast, the valley and the desert. We had a wonderful time and some interesting experiences. I had some problems with my air card so Internet connections were a problem which makes publishing this blog a pain but now I'm home and I will get it caught up!

Arcuri's farm in Springfield

It's That Time Again

2009-08-23T06:39:00.000-07:00

Anarchy, a yearling colt

As of yesterday we are staying at the Louisville Metro KOA for the week attending the Kentucky State Fair World's Championship Horse Show. We don't have anything showing this year because we sold what would have shown here. Not a bad thing! John is feeling a little strange without horses here. We had dinner with the Brookshires last night and he mentioned that he won at least one class at this show every single year that he showed here since the early 70's. Phyllis replied, "That my dear is why you were inducted into the Hall of Fame last year." Quite an accomplished and storied career. Anyway, once the Arcuris arrive tonight and the show starts I believe he will feel less strange about not having horses here.

I just realized that I haven't blogged since May! I apologize for taking such a long time to get back here. When we came home from our last long trip I was ready to stay put for the summer, enjoy being home and the summer weather and I pretty much have accomplished my goal. The mares and babies are doing very well and the yearlings have begun their early training which we are excited about.

Illegal Tender (left) and Critical Asset (right), yearlings

John and I went up to Chambersburg, Pennsylvania to a family wedding in June which was a really nice trip. We took Mary and the dogs and stayed at the Swamp Fox Farm where he started his horse training career many years back. It is a beautiful spot. Breezy and Ransom loved it too. Especially Ransom. The farm is a haven for rabbits and squirrels and Ransom, being the little leaping hunter that he is, found the entire experience exhilarating. He jerked me around on his leash for two days. Every time he saw a rabbit it was as though he got an electric jolt. Finally on the third day we took the dogs for a walk on the back of the farm and John said, "Poor little guy. Why don't you turn him loose." I said, "Because we may not see him again until the snow flies." He said, "He'll come to my whistle now. Turn him loose." I said, "Okay. If he disappears into the woods and doesn't come to your whistle you are going to have to hunt him down." The woods up there are thick with under brush and the trees are very dense. So I unsnapped his leash and he was off like a race horse breaking from the gate. He was so excited to be on the hunt that he couldn't focus and he bounded right by a squirrel and two rabbits without noticing them. He had also turned off his hearing in favor of his pursuit of ground critters. We did finally retrieve him and when I put him back on the leash he commenced jerking me around the property again until we got back.

Miss Breezy enjoying her summer

On the fourth day we were getting ready to fold up the coach so we could head home. I decided to take Ransom and Breezy for a little walk so I put Ransom on his leash and took Breezy off-leash. She is so good that we don't worry about her where the are allowed to be off leash. We aren't there yet with Ransom. So John was outside of the coach as the dogs and I strolled off across a beautiful mowed green field toward the woods. Unbeknownst to me there was a rabbit sitting behind a big rock in the field. I was lolly gagging along, communing with the peacefulness of the farm, at one with nature and noticing a bit of sprinkling rain when rabbit madness overtook Mr. Ransom and he bolted, jerking the leash from my hand. It is retractable leash and it was locked at about four feet. I screamed, "RANSOM!" as I watched him dash after the rabbit at warp speed with the handle of the leash bouncing on the ground four feet behind him. It didn't faze him. The rabbit was very fast and so is Ransom. I screamed "RANSOM!!" again and took off running after him as the sprinkles turned to full fledged rain. I glanced back to see John running in our direction but he was too far from us to help so he stopped and started whistling an ear splitting sound that stopped me in my tracks but not Ransom. Poor Breezy was completely freaked because she knew that Ransom was committing the worst crime of all, running away when being called. She glued herself to me and we ran as fast as my short legs could travel (which I promise you isn't fast) after Ransom and the rabbit. Finally one of John's whistles stopped Ransom for a split second, just long enough for the rabbit to slip into the under brush of the woods and then Ransom lost his mind and dove in after him. I stopped and in between panting hollered, "RANSOM you little shit!!! Come back!!!". I stood there in the rain, out of breath listening for him but I heard nothing. I looked at Breezy and said, "Go get him Breezy. Go get Ransom!" She took off and bolted up a bank and stopped at the edge of the woods. She turned and looked at me as I lumbered up the wet bank. I screamed for Ransom again with some additional expletives informing him that if I caught up with him he was going to be in the dog house permanently. Breezy just stood still. When I got to her I bent down and looked into a small opening in the brush and there I found Ransom with his leash tangled in the brush.

I had to crawl into the brush, in the rain and untangle his leash. He was looking at me with an expression that said that if he had a choice he would rather spend the rest of his life in the woods than to deal with me. I got him out of the brush and we marched back to the coach where I found John in hysterics. "What's funny?" I asked. He just pointed at the three of us and cracked up again. Finally he explained that if I could have watched the whole scene from his vantage point I would have found the humor in it too. Maybe...

The little shit :-)

Something interesting has happened to Ransom. When we rescued him a year ago he had one ear that stood up and one ear that flopped over. I thought it made him unique. We decided that when people asked what breed he is we would tell them that he is an Uno Lop. About a month ago his stand up ear flopped over and it now matches the other one. So now we tell people he is a Duo Lop. Or sometimes we say he is a Tasmanian King Chihuahua. That one always gets lots of oooooh's. What ever he is we love him all to pieces and couldn't be happier that we have him in our lives. I learned from him about how to overcome a blue day. Just jump! When something has you down, jump for joy! He does it all of the time and he never ceases to make us laugh.

John has been busy traveling this summer. He went with Bill Field up to the Midwest Charity Horse Show in Illinois for a week. Then he flew out to Oregon to attend the Summer Showcase horse show with the Arcuris. After that he and Bill and Bill's grandson Walker took the coach and went to Gettysburg, Antietam and Harper's Ferry to tour the battlefields. Walker is nine and he lives in Utah. I dropped John off at the coach the day that they left and they were all excited and ready for their adventure. I thought to myself that neither of them have spent a week with a nine year old in awhile and probably never in such a confined space but if the stars were properly aligned it could be fun for them anyway. I took the dogs and went home for a productive week at home. I got reports on their adventures several times per day. Each day John's voice was a bit more frazzled but he was having fun and really enjoying the battlefields and Bill's company.

A week after they left I drove back out to the farm where Mary lives to pick John up and when I arrived and walked up to the coach Bill staggered out with an arm load of luggage. He looked beat. "So how was your trip?" I asked. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "This trip may have been the biggest challenge that John and I have ever undertaken together," he said as he threw bags into the back of his car. Walker was busy playing with Breezy and Ransom so I went up the steps of the coach and found John looking equally harassed. "Whipped by a nine year old?" I asked. He nodded. He told me some of the stories and I laughed until I couldn't breathe. They really did have a great time but the energy of a nine year old boy was a little much for the two of them!

Lt. William Field (left) General John T. Jones (center) and Walker

We sold our Florida home and closed on the property on July 1st. Given the amount of time that we spend in Mary traveling it didn't make much sense to hang onto the property especially since the Florida market tanked. We keep saying to each other how amazed we are that we don't have any seller's remorse and don't miss the property because we both really loved it. But then it occurs to me that we will most likely miss it in January.

I admire people who make their living in real estate. Selling a home is an emotional experience and with the market the way that it has been for the last year many people are having to give up their home involuntarily so the entire experience is a trauma and makes ours look like a walk in the park. Agents must need month long retreats and occasional psychotherapy to decompress from the roller coaster ride of buyers and sellers of real estate. From our perspective we ended up with a buyer who was just slightly insane. The only people made crazier than us over her weird behavior were her agent, who went missing midway in the process and our agent who deserves a medal of honor for not killing her. I won't drag you through all of the details but by the time we handed the attorney the keys we were more than ready to head north to Kentucky and not look back. Until January.

We will be on the road again heading west in September. The tentative plan is to tour Utah before heading to Oregon for a long visit and then going to Arizona again for the fall futurity horse show. I hope you are having a wonderful, enjoyable, exhilarating, relaxing, beautiful summer where ever you are!

New Babies!

2009-05-09T15:50:00.000-07:00

New colt enjoying spring grass

This is just the best time of the year! We have two new babies on the ground, a filly and a colt, both healthy and beautiful, the grass is growing so fast that you need a speedometer to clock it and today the sun is out! We have had so much rain this spring that I've felt a bit like I was living in the Northwest again but today it is going to be 80 degrees and sunny. It's a walking day for Ransom and me for sure!

Later I plan to hit Lowe's and pick up some pretty flowers to put in pots on the patio. Yesterday I was looking at the area by the front door and thinking that I would like to work on it, move some little shrubs and thin out some wild hostas that are now taking up the entire area but I thought I'd better check with the Gestapo's rules on what I can do with it. So I dragged out one of the two three ring binders of information on our home and it's rules and started looking at the planting layout. I have three little reddish shrubs that are sitting behind a low hedge of green shrubs. I'm not sure who put them in there or why but they are out of place there. I thought I'd move them over in front of the dining room window. So I looked up what is allowed by the dining room window. When you open the binder that has all of the rule and regulations the first page on the top says, "WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD!" Under that is a list of now outdated phone numbers and names for the home owners association, information about paying our HOA fees and the website address. So I dug into the table of contents and found the landscaping section. They are in Rules Policy # 4 after PARKING rules, Pet ownership rules, and architecture rules. There are eight more Rules Policies with various exhibits, charts and diagrams following the landscaping rules including Rules Policy #9, Rules Enforcement Procedure. Apparently those are the rules about the rules. Sheesh.

If you have never lived in a community with an HOA I'm probably cementing the fact that you never will. I'll get to the upside of this situation a little later.

Breezy and Ransom enjoying some free time

So I finally found the diagrams for the landscaping rules. When they did the original landscaping here they did a basic job of trees and shrubs but left big empty spots that scream for something nice like hydrangea or azalea bushes, maybe some bulbs for daffodils and tulips in the spring months. I know that they don't want the landscapers to have to spend a lot of time doing the maintenance so that's why it is so basic and to be fair the uniformity makes it look really...tidy but it is missing color. Some of our neighbors have dressed their units up with annuals and perennials and they look really nice. Those are allowed in certain areas under certain circumstances. So I looked at Rule #1 (under Rule# 4). It goes like this:

No fences, bird feeders, or trellises

No hanging pots/baskets attached to the building (the patio is PERFECT for some hanging baskets)...shepherd's hooks are allowed in mulched areas

No window boxes

No landscape lighting

No water ponds, fountains or other water features

Nothing to sit on retaining walls or plants near the retaining walls

But they allow statuary so you could end up looking at some fat naked cherub in your neighbor's yard but you can't hang a flowering plant. Or a bird feeder.

Miss Rio Rita and her new filly

Oh, and no vines.

So I got into the landscaping plans and starting looking to see if I could move my three little red shrubs in front of the dining room window.

NO.

Okay. So can I put them in front of the living room window?

NO.

Okay. So can I put them in front of the office window?

That seems debatable according to how you interpret the rules. I'm familiar with rule interpretation after spending four plus years at the United States Equestrian Federation. What I learned is that a rule can be interpreted many ways. The English language is an interesting one when you start writing and interpreting law.

I interpret this rule to allow the shrubs to be planted in front of the window as long as they don't exceed three feet. There. That was easy. Wasn't it?

Two days old and her first day outside

Tomorrow I'm on my way out to the farm with my camera again to get more photos of the new babies and watch them work the show horses. In the next couple of weeks we should have two more new babies to brag about!

Have a wonderful weekend!

On A Rainy Sunday

2009-05-03T10:10:00.000-07:00

The Bark Pile

I feel like I'm living in Oregon again! Rain, rain, rain and more rain. It looks like The Land of Oz out there with the intensity of green grass and trees and colorful flowers. The difference is the color of the sky. I believe it was blue in Oz. Not here. The only sun I see on the forecast between now and the tenth of May is on Tuesday. Ransom and I are going to have to start walking in rain gear because we have been confined for way too long! I'm all pumped about planting flowers and an herb garden this year. Being as I'm actually going to be here all summer I can tend to my containers on the patio. The bark project is done with the exception of a pile of park in our guest parking. I think they abandoned it. If you drive around the complex there is some kind of construction debris, equipment, a dumpster or landscaping junk in nearly every guest parking space. I don't know who chooses the contractors for this place but I think that person needs to be replaced. They have been trying to fix a roof on the other side of the complex since the first part of April. Thankfully we don't have to bring Mary back here until June. If it the parking is still an issue then they can call John. He's ready for them. Heh, heh, heh...

Miss Breezy Jones

There is a new Picassa photo album of more recent photos and I'm going to get all techy here and see if I can embed it in this blog post. They are making it so much easier for us neophytes to do this stuff now. It makes me feel all computer savvy...which I'm not! Here it goes: It didn't work. Back to the drawing board. Here is the link:

http://picasaweb.google.com/tagfish1/Hodgepodge

It has some photos that I've published on this blog and some new ones as well. Next I'll try to add a little footage from the Flip camera. I haven't taken any footage worthy of this but I need to learn how to upload it. So here it goes...

It worked! I think...

We are going to a pot luck dinner tonight. I made three chocolate cream pies for this event. I haven't eaten any. Yet. This weekend blew the cleansing all to hell but we only had two days left. John lost 14 pounds doubling what I lost but he has been working 20 plus horses a day, six days a week so that would probably account for some of the extra weight loss. Even without all of the exercise it is easier for him to drop pounds than it is for me. The best part of cleansing is how great you feel and how clear headed you are. If you don't believe that we are what we eat try a cleansing. You will be a believer. Now the trick is to stay on healthy food with an occasional splurge. Tonight we splurge. Tomorrow we pay...and start back on healthy food again.

The PIES. Probably only a kazillion calories in those three little babies

Ransom huddled up on the couch

I'm off to start work on the scrapbook project. I have a million photos and articles and things that need to be organized into something besides the drawer and the miscellaneous manilla envelopes that they have been living in. First a lot of them need to be scanned into my computer.

I hope this Sunday has been a pleasant one for you!

Out and About

2009-04-24T10:05:00.000-07:00

IT'S SPRING!

We arrived home from out trip out west and I've been running around like a woman with her hair on fire ever since. Today I'm in Columbus, Ohio in the coach with our two dogs while John is judging the Friday afternoon session of the River Ridge Horse Show. We got here on Tuesday afternoon and set up in the campground of the Ohio State Fairgrounds. It isn't a bad spot except for the train track that runs through it. I love the inside of Mary so hanging out in here is a nice respite from running around like a woman with my hair on fire.

Last night I went over to the show for the first time. I got to sit in the judge's stand for the evening performance. Many moons ago I did a little judging out west at some open shows which I really enjoyed but from that experience I realized that the view from inside the ring is much different from what it looks like from the rail. I was reminded of that again last night.

One of the fun things that happened was that I got to meet the horse show manager, a woman who I worked with regularly on the phone when I was managing the Breeds Department at USEF. Barb took over the show several years ago which was in need of some intensive care and she had a lot of questions. I always liked helping horse show managers and secretaries when I was there (they have a huge job and USEF has a huge amount of red tape) and I particularly enjoyed talking to Barb. She struck me as a brave and bold woman, very bright and dedicated to making things work. When I met her I found a tiny woman with bright eyes, a great sense of humor and lots of pluck. I love pluck. She does a wonderful job with River Ridge.

When we got home from out trip it was tax time. I'm a word person not a numbers person. I do the bookkeeping entries monthly and email them to the accountant. Every year I think I have finally done a good job of not missing things and not confusing poor Margie at the accounting office and every year I find out that I missed some things and confused poor Margie at the accounting office. She is slated for sainthood from working with me, a non-numbers kind of person. We have a similar sense of humor so I'm able to get it done without her wanting to kill me. I think.

Moms getting ready for foaling time

During tax time I decided that it was time to get myself on a cleansing diet for a week. I did it once about 12 years ago guided by a doctor and at the end of the diet I felt like brand new. In between starting it and ending it I felt like a refugee from Ethiopia. Twelve years dimmed my memory of how bad you can feel when releasing toxins from your system but even if I had remembered how crappy I would feel I probably would have done it anyway. To say that we have had a lot of fun in the last three years is a wild understatement but we also ate our way around the world and in the process we both got a little...pudgy. Not terrible but enough extra weight that my wardrobe went from skinny clothes and fat clothes to skinny clothes, fat clothes and just cover the %#!@!! blubber clothes. It's bad news at Black Rock when your fat clothes are too tight. So it was time to feel better and lose a few pounds. I tackled it while I was tackling the taxes. Not too smart. John took cover for a week.

The diet allows only fruits, veggies, fruit and veggie juices, herbal tea and broths made from fresh veggies. No bread, no salt, no sugar, no caffeine, no starches, no wheat, no eggs, no dairy, no alcohol...none of the things that are or were a part of my diet. The second day I dragged myself out of bed with a pounding headache and achy joints and cement in my legs. Five days into it I was feeling like I was ten years younger and thinking "just two more days and I'll be done and can go back to eating some real food again." Donnie Brookshire says that you can do anything for a week. John went on eating like normal (my cooking) and saying, "I don't know how you can do that. I could never do that." You can do anything for a week.

Colts playing on a sunny day

On that fifth day of cleansing John had his first appointment with my naturopath so I dropped him off and went unenthusiastically to do some shopping for more fruits and veggies. As I was pulling into the parking lot to wait for him to get done my cell phone rang. It was John and he said, "Where are you?" I said, "I just pulled into the parking lot." He said, "Come in here please." So I got out of the car thinking that she had found something dire in his blood work and when I walked in he was joking and having the best time. On the desk in front of him was a cleansing diet. A 28 day cleansing diet. Ha!

I would have bet the farm that he wouldn't be able to stick to this diet for 28 days. Not that he isn't determined or dedicated. His career proves all of that. It's just that he made such a production about what I did for a week and he loves good food so much that I thought he would weenie out and give up.

I was wrong.

He is on day 19 today. Week one was more liberal than my week one and to be helpful I said that I would do it with him. I was feeling terrific and his week one included some organic chicken, fish and lamb which sounded like a feast to me. Week two on his diet was like week one on mine only with brown rice and protein powder so I told him he would have to go it alone and that I'd stick to his week one diet while he muddled through. He suffered the detox symptoms but kept his nose to the grindstone, went to A.J.'s barn every day (he has been helping A.J. because he broke his hand while we were out west) armed with a protein drink and an apple in his pocket. He has followed this thing for 19 days without wavering...not without whining and complaining (which I did a lot of as well) but has not cheated once. We are both feeling like kids again. John has lost 12 pounds and looks wonderful. I've lost six pounds and am clipping along toward my skinny clothes again. Tonight is the first time we can add back meat so we are having roasted game hens for dinner with wild rice and steamed broccoli. Wahoo!

After taxes, doctor appointments, diets, a trip out to see our yearlings and a lot of spring cleaning at the house we left for Clemson, South Carolina for the J.D. Massey Classic horse show. Donnie and Phyllis Brookshire were inducted into the hall of fame so we took Mary and the dogs and drove down to the show. We had never been there before and when we arrived we found a really nice show facility in the country that is part of Clemson University and a beautiful little town. We had nearly perfect weather for the weekend too. We met some really nice people and had lots of fun with the Brookies and then we motored home for two days before we repacked and headed up here to Columbus.

Two of our yearling colts at A.J.'s

After Clemson we arrived back at our townhouse late last Sunday afternoon with plans to leave on Tuesday around noon for Columbus. We live in a condo complex which means that we are "governed" by a home owner's association. I've come to believe that home owner's associations are fashioned after Hilter's Germany but that's just my opinion. We have one in Florida to which we pay obscene amounts of money for what I'm not sure. The landscaping company employs Marilyn Scissorhands (if memory serves me there is an earlier blog post about Ms. Scissorhands) who regularly butchers the landscaping around the pool. That is until we had a Waterloo over the whole thing. Now she has gone passive aggressive and won't trim at all. Our HOA in Lexington isn't expensive but is far more restrictive than Florida. Up until recently I think I may have irritated them a bit but in general haven't had much problem with them. Also the neighborhood is full of retired people, most of which are very nice but don't have much to do except watch the comings and goings of their neighbors. Given our lifestyle I'm sure we have given them tons to chat about.

Two weeks before we left for Clemson the HOA had the landscapers come in and start the yearly bark project. They bring in dump trucks full of bark and dump it in inconvenient places and then a truck with a blower on it is loaded by little critter with a bucket on the front. They blow the bark into the flower beds, over people's plants and flowers and generally make a hell of a mess. And they are SLOW. Before we left for Clemson they filled up our guest parking spot with bark so we couldn't park Mary in there. Normally that's where we put her if we leave her overnight. When we got home it was still full of bark (go figure) so John pulled her up to the curb in front of our unit and we unloaded her. I asked if he was going to take her back out to the farm and he looked at me like I had two heads. "I'm not taking her all the way out there for one day and then bringing her all the way back." I threw my hand up and said, "Okay. I was just curious." I suspected that we were going to raise the ire of someone in the complex. Mary is the size of a small office building after all.

Tuesday morning John went to the barn and I started my mad rush to get the coach packed, make a run to the grocery store (this diet requires that you shop several times a week to keep fresh produce in the fridge), go to the bank, pick up some more protein powder from the doctor's office, and a few other various things. Before any of that happened I had to usher a furnace repairman in and out of the house (long story that I'll spare you from). The wind had picked up that morning and it was icy cold. I made six or seven trips out to the coach with armloads of stuff, being blown from hell to breakfast between the curb and the front door so my mood wasn't exactly what I would call upbeat. Harassed would be a better description. Plus I knew that John would be home soon so I was trying like crazy to get out the door to get my errands done so we could get on the road. As I was flying through the house gathering my coat, purse, keys and Ransom I caught a glimpse of a red truck flying into the driveway. Before I could register who it was the doorbell rang...TWICE. It was a type-A ring. I was in no mood to deal with a type-A anything. I opened the door and there was a man there who introduced himself as the president of the HOA. The Gestapo had arrived. He launched into what I could only describe as a dressing down over leaving the coach parked in front of the house. I immediately felt like I was back in high school getting chewed out for skipping school or being late for class...which didn't meld well with my already harassed mood. I was in a hurry and I wasn't interested in the lecture. I tried to interrupt but on he went until Ransom dashed out the door onto the stoop. "Oh shit!" I said.

Ransom is a wonderful little dog but when he is fresh he goes deaf to my requests to come to me. He had been patient to a fault for two days without exercise because the weather was awful and I was once again running around like my hair was on fire.

So I eased out the door calling Ransom and reaching for him. This man apparently had no clue that I was afraid that the dog would take off across the yard and dash out into the street. My mind unfolded the entire disaster complete with me running down the road hollering "Ransom come back!" while I was getting a lecture. I really wanted to say, "Just give me a ticket or something because I don't have time for this!" Instead my mother loomed in my head (she was a stickler for being polite) and I said, "I understand and it won't happen again," as I finally got a hold of Ransom's collar and put him in the house. We were good to go until he said that someone had complained. I felt the fire burning in my temper zone. Then he said in his self important voice, "And it has been here for three days." The fire turned into an inferno. "It has NOT been here three days," I said (sorry Mom). "Well whatever," he said. You are only allowed to keep it here overnight." We got home late Sunday afternoon and it was Tuesday morning. Do the math. So I said, "Oh! While I have you here there are some dying bushes on our lot that need to be replaced." I dragged him out in the cold wind to point them out. "That happens and I suppose we can replace them." It happened a year ago and while we are expected to keep up our end of the bargain and adhere to a three ring binder of rules and regs about planting and pots and bird feeders, PARKING and you name it, apparently they can look the other way when its time to spend money on replacing dying plants. Finally he told me that they didn't have a contact number for me. That would be because someone misplaced it because I spoke to the manager of the HOA last year about another issue (our patio roof leaking and peeling away) and she returned my call. So I invited him in while I gave him John's cell number. "You can get him 24/7", I said as I handed him the paper and gathered up my stuff to leave. Then he began questioning me about what we do with the coach. I explained that we use it for business purposes and some pleasure trips. From there a conversation ensued about his house on Hunterstown Road. Huh? Finally I promised that we would never leave the coach on the curb again (alright already!) and said goodbye. Sheesh. We are thinking a place in the country with room for our dogs and horses and Mary might not be the worst idea. Stay tuned.

For now I'm going to sign off and say happy spring to everyone. It is 80 degrees today and my old friend, the hair-wrecking wind is blowing like sixty blazes but I'm not cold and the fire in my hair has temporarily been put out. We will be home or close to it for the rest of the summer. I will continue to bore you with my tales of the neighborhood and life in Lexington until we travel again.

It's time to fix a chicken! YES!

Working Our Way Home

2009-03-24T06:54:00.000-07:00

New Mexico

Spring in Albuquerque

Wind power...we saw tons of windmills across the country!

Tuesday, March 24

We are working our way across Interstate 40. And I mean WORKING. Poor John has been fighting steady 20 to 30 mile an hour cross winds with a 40 mile an hour blast about every three miles since yesterday around noon. Our trip out of L.A. went well and the drive across from Flagstaff through New Mexico was gorgeous and uneventful. We started out yesterday in Tucumcari, New Mexico after spending the night listening to the wind howl and shake Mary every five minutes. It wasn't a terribly restful night. When we hit the highway yesterday we had a strong tail wind making our morning drive a pleasant one and as an added bonus it upped our mileage by about a half mile per gallon. That gain was wiped out as fast as our retirement fund was when the stock market tanked. He battled to keep Mary on the road into Oklahoma City where we fueled up at Flying J. I haven't been to the grocery store since before we left Scottsdale mostly because I stocked up on a lot of things and while we were in Los Angeles we ate out every night but one. When we stop at KOA's we normally aren't close to a grocery store so by yesterday we had been out of sweet stuff for two days. EEEKKKK! So when we stopped at Flying J I made a run on the convenience store coming back with a bag full of peanut M&M's, wintergreen Live Savers and a small container of vanilla ice cream. The girl at the checkout had a funny smile on her face when I paid for our loot. Binge eater, sugar-holic or pot smoker...I'm not sure what she was thinking but I was happy Kamper (the KOA spelling of the word) as I leaned into the wind on my way back to Mary. I so love the wind. NOT.

We resumed our battle across Oklahoma in the sticky wind. Oklahoma has earned the top spot on my least favorite states list due to the fact that every time we have been through there the wind has been blowing at hurricane speeds, or it has been pouring down rain, or it has been so hot and sticky that you couldn't breathe. It is a pretty state but the weather really sucks.

At one point I touched John's shoulders and they felt like granite. Catching 45,000 pounds of motor coach once a minute was taking its toll. Our original plan was to make two very long days of driving and get home tonight. Ha! By the time we had gone 10 miles outside of Oklahoma City John said, "Please get on the internet and find us a spot to stop as soon as possible. I've had all of this that I want for one day." Well we ended up on Checotah, Oklahoma a fair amount of miles from Oklahoma City. At one point traffic stopped and John started fiddling with the CB radio to figure out what was happening. All he got was static (either it hasn't worked well since we got it or we haven't worked it well since we got it). He hung it up in disgust and said, "Probably a motor coach blown over on it's side." I kept quiet. We sat there for ten minutes giving him a bit of a rest and then traffic moved again. It turned out to be a pickup with a broken axle in the left lane. As we neared Checotah I looked up and saw something in the road. We were on concrete highway and out of traffic so I had a little time to see it before we rolled over it. It looked like a really long (like 3 feet long) strip of something, like trash, that stuck to the road and was being whipped around by the wind. As we passed over it John said, "That was a snake that someone ran over and was flopping around." He was tired and I was too so I resisted telling him that I was fine with my own interpretation of what I saw. Gross.

So we pulled off the road and eased into the Checotah KOA. It was a cool little country KOA and the people who ran it were very creative. Had the wind not been blowing at F-5 speeds I would have gotten some photos of some of the cute things that they did. Breezy and Ransom had been so patient all day but their little motors were wound tight so we tightened up our hats and took the mile long nature walk to the lake and back. At one point Ransom, who I have to keep on the leash because he is a total wild man if I turn him loose and it takes forever to catch him, cut loose with Breezy who was off the leash and they ran full tilt, chasing in a 16 foot circle around me until I was dizzy. They have been their usual wonderful selves during this entire trip. It is challenging for them sometimes because we don't always have the best place to exercise them. They ran and Breezy would pounce on Ransom, they would roll together and Ransom would pop up and run flat out challenging Breezy to catch him. He is faster than she is so it would take a few trips around before she would jig and he would jog and they would roll together in a furry ball and then Ransom would pop up and take off again. We both laughed until we cried. Finally worn down a bit we blew back to the coach for a light dinner and some ice cream!

Wednesday, March 25

I got distracted. Sorry. We are in Kentucky at the moment on the Bluegrass Parkway nearly home! As it turned out our day yesterday was spent being beat around on the highway by the same winds that we had on Monday. We managed to slide between two weather fronts first thing yesterday morning so we avoided rain. Come to think of it with the exception of today we avoided rain for the entire three plus weeks that we were on the road. Today we are testing the new neo-dome over the shower that John and Tim installed while we were in Scottsdale. John spent half of one day on the phone tracking one down. He finally got to the manufacturer of the dome. The nice man Dave said that the factory didn't sell to individuals and gave John some numbers to try. None of them worked. He called back and told Dave that none of them worked. He said, "Dave, please sell me a neo-dome." Dave said okay and shipped one by FedEx overnight. John and Tim got on the roof and spent some sweaty time in the sun securing the dome and we said some prayers for dry weather until the caulk was able to set up. They were answered and Mary is as good as new again! She has been a trooper through some terrible Interstate highways .The only casualties for her are a missing hubcap and another trip to the shop for wheel balancing. Interstate 10 and Interstate 40 and all of the Interstate systems in California are desperate for help so hopefully some of the stimulus money will find its way to our decaying Interstate system. We encountered a ton of truck traffic which seemed to both of us to be a good sign that the economy might be struggling back to life.

We spent our last night on the road in another KOA an hour south of Nashville. It was a little one in the trees by I-65. We had dinner and got to bed early so we could get up and get on the road home. John turned on the air conditioning in the front of Mary to keep us cool but mostly to drown out the truck noise on the Interstate. Today the wind is down and it is raining but we are so happy to be back in Kentucky that we don't care!

I put together a business blog for John that will have lots of photos of our horses once we get home and settled. I'll keep a calendar updated on our travels on it as well. The address is http://www.saddlebredsales.wordpress.com/ if you want to check it out. This blog thing is pretty cool!

Ransom looking in on his winter vacation

That's it for this trip. I think we may head down to the J.D. Massey show next month and John is judging River Ridge so we will be taking the dogs and heading for Columbus at the end of the month.

Ozona to L.A.

2009-03-19T07:07:00.000-07:00

Sunrise in Ozona, Texas

So Ozona was okay. "Okay" is high praise against the vision that my mind had created for a spot for Mary to spend the night. After the skylight debacle in Tampa we had a broken neo-dome but a sparkling clean coach. I had visions of dust storms embedding grit in every nook and cranny of Mary's surface. The RV park in Ozona was positively utilitarian and a little like spending the night on the moon. Rows and rows of hookups on a flat piece of graveled ground with a grassy spot in the middle for the dogs to do their business on. It was a little noisy due to a small truck stop a quarter mile from the entrance to the RV Park. We had been very healthy, eating light and doing all of the right things until we got to Ozona where we fell off the wagon and went to the Tex-Mex truck stop restaurant and chowing down on a salt laden, fat globbed meal, topped off with sugary lemonade. Yum. We went back to eating healthy the next day after dragging our shell socked-systems out of bed before sunrise and getting back on the road. All in all Ozona wasn't the worst place we ever stayed. Remember Wildwood? Better than that.

John and the kids on the moonscape in Ozona

Next stop was Las Cruces, New Mexico at our all time favorite KOA. We spent the day crossing West Texas as Mary hummed down the road. It was a little windy but not nearly as bad as last year and diesel is at an all time low since we started traveling with Mary. Late in the afternoon we pulled into the little campground which is hosted by the nicest people and parked overlooking a valley that twinkles with lights at night. The backdrop is the Caballo Mountains and when the sun goes down they turn to a burnished brick color. It's really beautiful. After we set up we took the dogs for a walk and then I started dinner while John took a well deserved nap. As I was cooking a big new coach pulled in next to us. I watched the sides expand and the gentleman who was driving got out and sorted out the hookups. I was watching a movie and cooking away when I looked out Mary's front window and saw the couple standing outside of the coach, each with a beer in their hands, gazing glassy-eyed at their coach. I recognized the look immediately...new coach owners. If there were bubbles over their heads revealing their thoughts this is what they would have said. The woman: "Holy shit...we really did buy this resort on wheels." The man: "Holy shit. I need another beer." I told John about it when he woke up and we laughed remembering the first night that we had Mary.

We were in Wakarusa, Indiana very close to the northernmost border and not far from Chicago. We drove the Camry up so that one of the local shops could install the transmission pump and towing apparatus to the front end. We spent part of two days in the shop taking a crash course (no pun intended) in how to operate Mary's systems and then we both drove her in a school parking lot. It was January and it was ice cold and spitting snow. I remember having nightmares about our first trip in Mary being in a snow storm or worse, on ice. The nice people at Monaco assured us that we would be fine so off we went to the transmission place to pick up the Camry. After that we spent the night at the hotel we had been staying in being as Mary was winterized (her water systems were full of anti-freeze). I got up in the night and looked out the window in both awe and horror (the look I saw on the faces of our new coach owner neighbors in Las Cruces) at Mary, under the lights of the parking lot. She looked like an office building on wheels. But she was beautiful. Very early the next morning we got up and found a light blanket of snow on the ground. We put our things in Mary and John fired her up. The first thing that we had to do was to get on a turnpike which required that we drive over an overpass. When you first ride in a big coach it is a little hard to assess where your sides and wheels are in relation to the side of the road and the center line. I spent a good deal of my ride to Lexington with my butt puckered thinking that we were driving on the shoulder of the road or in our neighbor's lane. Try that going over an overpass! The next thing that happened was a discussion regarding the directions that Tom Tom (remember our GPS headaches?) were giving us about how to head south. We listened to Tom Tom and John ended up driving Mary through downtown South Bend...another seriously butt puckering experience. The last mistake was a trip through downtown Versailles which is a tiny town near Prospect Lane, the farm where Mary resides when we are in Kentucky. That little jaunt made the trip through South Bend look like a drive down a super highway. A few days later we were at a dinner party with some horse people when a friend of ours told us a story. He said he was driving through downtown Versailles the other day when he looked up and saw this huge coach working its way down through the narrow streets. He said he thought some rock star must have made a wrong turn. Then he got close and said, "Wait a minute. I KNOW that woman! And that's Johnny driving that big bus!"

When I think about how much we didn't know about this coach when we took off for Florida the first time I shudder. Now we are pretty comfortable with all of the systems and John drives her like he's been doing it all his life.

Breezy lounging in Scottsdale

So we left Las Cruces and drove to Scottsdale on Monday. We met Tim and Ryan Arcuri there in the afternoon and took off to our favorite haunt, Earl's Restaurant for a light dinner. The week in Scottsdale was great. The weather was fabulous, in the mid to upper 70's all week and we had a very relaxing week with our friends. They had a great horse show and on the following Monday morning we left to head farther west to Los Angeles. But first we decided to make a stop in Palm Desert for a couple of days of rest.

The red boulders heading into Tucson

There is an Outdoor Resorts in Palm Desert. That is the same name as the RV park that we stayed at in Newport, Oregon that was so beautiful...we thought. In Newport we overlooked the ocean and the spaces were huge and private and it was just plain heaven. So we made a reservation for two nights and happily headed down the road. When we arrived at Outdoor Resorts Road (pretty impressive to have a road named after your business) we made the left by the incredible landscaped entrance and pulled into the park. John registered us and we passed through the gates into the park. We had a map of the park and my eyes bugged when I saw all of the spaces. It was landscaped impecably and there was a golf course that ran through the property...twenty seven holes! We drove in and I promptly blew a fuse and got us lost. The roads through the place were narrow and it felt like we were going the wrong way on a one way street for the entire ten minutes that we drove looking for our space. After winding all over the park we finally found space number 850. Yes, eight hundred and fifty. There are actually 1,213 spaces in the park and it is nearly full, mostly with fifth wheel trailers, golf carts and bicycles. Honestly, I have never seen so many golf carts of so many different descriptions and full of so many well...old people in my life. They swarmed together like herds of impala and when they passed by Mary it was a virtual parade of the goofiest golf carts I've ever seen. In the mornings they were loaded to the gills with golfers, all dragging wheeled golf bags behind them. The empty spaces are rented out at anywhere from $66.00 to $77.00 per night with the space owner collecting 70% of the rent. The association fees are $319.00 per space. Do the math. Holy cow. The spaces are stacked in like cord wood and the people are highly social. You would have to be highly social to be stacked on your neighbors like bees in a hive.

We decided that we wanted to eat out on Tuesday night before we left. We were lounging in our chairs, under Mary's awning enjoying the desert air (it was fragrant with orange blossom...fantastic) when our neighbor drove in and got out of his car. John asked him for a recommendation on where to eat in town and he said a place called Oceans 111. His wife came out and suggested that we go early because it was St. Patrick's Day and everyone would be out. That struck me as a little weird. I never considered St. Patrick's Day to be a big night out unless of course you are Irish. So we went early and drove up to this restaurant which is built into the side of a hill...like a cave. It had a nice look about it when we walked up to the door. Then John pulled the door open and I was bowled over by a bad smell. I leaned toward him as we were approaching the reservations desk and said, "I hate to say this but this place smells a lot like a nursing home." He shrugged my comment off as we were seated. We ordered a nice bottle of wine and the waitress, who was very sweet, gave us our menus. John had been craving steak for the last two days so he ordered prime rib and I ordered sweet and sour chicken. We had an ahi appetizer that was really good. Then the waitress came and delivered the bad news about the prime rib. All they had left was the end cut. I looked at my watch. It was 5:30. Who ate the rest? So he got the menu again and ordered the herb roasted chicken. Great. A healthier choice. She delivered our dinners and John tried to put his fork into the chicken. He couldn't pierce it. He stabbed and dug while I ate my sweet and sour chicken and rice. Finally he gave up and set it aside. We shared my entree, which was fair at best, and ordered desert. Between the wine, the ahi and the desert our dinner was salvaged. As we exited the restaurant in the Camry at 7:00 I commented to John that there was no traffic. I mean zero traffic. I think we saw five cars on our way back to the RV Park which was about five miles. I said, "I figured out where all of the prime rib went!" John said, "Where?" I said, "They start serving dinner in the middle of the afternoon so people can be in bed by 7:30." He said, "No, I think it was leftovers from yesterday." We had a good laugh as we were entering the park.

In the land of the pink bus (click on the photo to enlarge it...it's worth it!)

We got past the gate and I turned left. John said he thought I should have turned right. I said no, that we turned right with the coach and were lost. He said, no, we turned right then right and we should have turned right and left. We were lost within 60 seconds. So we drove around the park marveling at the fact that there were St. Patrick's Day cookouts going on all over the place. I think as we get older we must look for any occasion to celebrate and toast our continued good health and good fortune. The thousand-plus people at Outdoor Resorts in Palm Desert are havin' a good time regardless of the bleak economic forecast!

Golf Course Road...it's something like the Yellow Brick Road!

We are now at Los Angeles Equestrian Center being buried in that grit and grime that I was concerned about in Ozona. It is gorgeous here though and the place is just hopping with equestrian activity. We have enjoyed our stay, visiting with the people at Bennett Farms and walking the trails in Griffith Park. Today we got a behind the scenes tour of the Los Angeles Zoo and both of us got to pet a full grown giraffe!

We are leaving in the morning to head back to Kentucky. We were going to make the trip to Oregon but apparently winter won't surrender on this first day of spring and they are closing mountain passes to buses and RV's. I'm disappointed that we won't get to see my family but really anxious to get home and enjoy the spring blossoms and all of the new foals in the pastures around Lexington. I'm getting reports that the dogwoods are in bloom and the grass is coming up green and beautiful. I can't wait to get home! I hope you all had a great week and enjoy the first weekend of spring!

Return to Baytown

2009-03-07T06:22:00.000-08:00

The scene of last year's melt down in the road

I woke up in Baytown, Texas this morning...with a 'fro. The humidity here is playing unflattering tricks on my hair and curling the pages of our books and magazines. I slept under an open window last night and when I looked in the mirror this morning I nearly screamed at my reflection. My bangs looked like two big cork screws. For a second I thought I might have accidentally stuck my finger in the wall socket in the middle of the night.

It was near 80 degrees yesterday as we were approaching Baytown, the site of last year's one-way-street disaster and my subsequent melt down in the road. To recap, John was talking to Tre on his cell phone as we were pulling out of the RV park, "I'm really starting to get the hang of driving this coach," he said as I'm hopping up and down in my seat pointing at the one-way sign dead ahead of us (pictured above) and hollering "WRONG WAY, WRONG WAY!!" Check out last year's March blog post if you want to re-live all of the gory details.

So this year I tried to get us into another park so we could avoid a repeat of the entire circus act (dead battery on the Camry, Breezy and I sinking into Texas muck over the tops of our feet and such) but Murphy wasn't having any of that. After emailing the other RV park in town asking for a reservation and not getting an answer, I called and got a recording that said they were full. So I was forced to call the Houston East RV RESORT (that's a stretch) where we stayed last year . John was amazed that I remembered the details of the roads and the turns and the park. I'm not. When you are in a heightened state of stress those details brand themselves into your brain. So when I called the Houston East RV Resort the same nice lady, who I know thought we were the stupidest RVers in the history of RVers last year (and we probably were), answered the phone. I let her give me the details on how to drive under the Interstate in a U-turn lane and into the park off of the one way service road. I knew how to get there but I was trying to behave as though I was new to the park so that I wouldn't jar any memories loose and she would think, "Oh no, THOSE idiots again." We made the turns correctly this time and made it into the park and into our space without incident. When John it the air brake and shut Mary's motor off he laughed and said, "We've come a long way baby!" No kidding.

So we are traveling west through Texas now. We passed through Houston earlier this morning and I snapped a few pictures. The repair on Mary's skylight is holding even through some pretty hefty winds and thankfully we haven't had to test it in the rain...yet. It is cloudy and they are calling for some scattered thunderstorms today. If Murphy takes a snooze we may get through without rain.

Houston. Click on this photo and read the sign in the lower left corner.

Yesterday we traveled on the roads from hell through Louisiana and east Texas. The trip from Milton, Florida to Baytown was a bit of a Deja Vu. I was hopeful that some work had been done on the roads but they looked and felt exactly like they did last year...terrible. I got up this morning and had to get some dog food out of one of Mary's lower bays so I jumped out and the first thing I noticed was that we lost another hub cap...the same one that we lost last year on the same stretch of road. If we continue to make this trip I'll have to start buying them by the dozen.

That brings me to the continuing saga of Monaco Coach Corporation. Just for the heck of it John called their number again yesterday. Now they have a recording saying that they have filed for reorganization under Chapter 11 bankruptcy law. They guided us to their website for contact information. So I went to their website and found a place to email them and ask to please allow us to buy a part for Mary's broken skylight. I haven't heard back from them yet. I would imagine the load of emails they got yesterday probably overloaded their server. If I get a hold of them I'll add a dozen hubcaps to the order.

I wouldn't have thought that the altitude from Tampa to Baytown would have been that much different. I'm puzzling over that at the moment. Mary has one of those two sided Sleep Number air beds. I like mine set on 50 and John's sleep number is 85. 85 feels like plywood to me. Funny how men and women are so different. So we had our dinner last night and settled in to flip channels and at 7:30 I looked over and John was fast asleep in his recliner. He woke up at 8:00 and shuffled off to bed. I stayed up and watched a little more television and at 9:00 I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer so off I went to bed. The room was stifling hot so I opened the windows and turned on Mary's Fantastic Fans (that's really what they are called) and got into bed. I thought the mattress felt a little firm but I was tired and fell asleep pretty quickly. Then I spent the rest of the night flopping around like a fish out of water. Every time I'd flop it went through my half-awake mind that I must have made a mistake and fell asleep on the dining room table instead of the bed. I woke up sore hips and shoulders this morning and a little cranky from disturbed sleep...not to mention my terrifying image in the mirror. When I checked the Sleep Number on my side it said "100". Murphy again. I wish the little bastard would take a powder and let us alone for a few days!

We just stopped in one of Texas's Picnic Areas so the dogs could stretch their legs. We are somewhere between Houston and San Antonio at the moment. I snapped the leashes on the dogs and we stepped out into gusty wind, wet humidity and the stench of cow shit. Some of my favorite things. I have my hair double banded into a snug ponytail to keep from looking like an escapee from a local institution. The dogs sniffed around while the wind knocked me around the area and when I stepped back into the coach John looked up from eating a banana with peanut butter at the dining table and cracked up. "What's funny?" I asked. "You should see your hair," he replied. I smirked. "Having a PICNIC?" I retorted. I've never quite understood the whole Picnic Area concept along side of a busy Interstate in Texas. Then I walked into the bathroom and looked at my hair. I screamed and went back to my co-pilot's seat where we have resumed being blown all over Interstate 10 on our way to a place called Ozona, Texas.

We aren't stopping in San Antonio this year because we need to get on to Scottsdale so I had to figure out where the half way point was between Baytown and Las Cruces, New Mexico where we will go tomorrow night. It turned out to be Ozona. I vaguely remember Ozona from our trip through west Texas last year. It stuck with me due to the unusual name and because we had gone so long without seeing any civilization that I began to have one of those Twilight Zone moments where you wonder if you have entered another dimension and are going to spend eternity driving in a motor coach through blasting wind, eating grit and looking like Frankenstein's sister (it's the hair thing again). I remember wondering what it would have been like to grow up in Ozona, Texas. I called the RV Park office at the Super 8 Motel in Ozona last night to make a reservation. The woman who answered the phone laughed like I was some crazy foreigner who didn't understand how things work in the United States of America. "Honey, you don't need a reservation! Just drive on in here and park!" she said. I thanked her and hung up. Stay tuned for our Ozona experience.

Okay, that's it for today. If you think of us, think of John wrestling Mary across Texas in this wind. We should be at our destination by late this afternoon. It might be time to break out the Scotch bottle again!

Breezy and Ransom waiting for John to fill Mary up at Flying J

Murphy Rides Again

2009-03-04T05:20:00.000-08:00

Ransom sacked out in the co-pilot's chair

We are in Tampa at the Gasparilla Charity Horse Show and it is really cold! Temperatures are near freezing at night and only into the 60's during the day. If you live in the north I hear you saying "Oh, cry me a river..." but for Florida it is really chilly. Really.

We arrived on Monday as scheduled and met up with our friends the Whitley's who also have a coach. They found the best spot to park and saved it for us. When we arrived their coach was looking all shiny and beautiful, clean tires and wheels, sparkling paint and glass. It turned out that a nice guy named Eddie has a car and RV detailing business and he offers his services to RV owners who stay at the fairgrounds. John looked at Whitley's coach, gave the work his approval and priced the service. It was half what they wanted to charge us in Vero Beach and he said that they would wash and wax the Camry too. Done deal.

Yesterday morning we got up and rolling and John headed over to the arena to watch horses work. I showered and got things tidied up, bed made, dishes done. At 9:00 Eddie showed up with his crew to wash and wax Mary and the Camry. They did the car first (it looks like new) and next they tackled Mary. Literally.

I was in the bathroom trimming my bangs when I heard Breezy growl and Ransom streaked the length of the coach, from the cockpit to the bedroom and back in three seconds. Next I heard the footsteps on the roof. They started at the top (normal). There is a lot of expensive stuff on the top of a motor coach. I was thinking to myself, as I was cutting bangs with a sharp instrument and listening to them march around the roof like a small herd of buffalo, that I hoped they didn't do anything to disturb the satellite dish or the air conditioners, or the automatic vented fans, or the...."CRACK, SNAP!!". I jumped straight up and dropped my scissors. Breezy barked and my eyes shot up at the skylight over the shower about a foot from where I was standing. It was inverted and suddenly there was more light coming through to the shower. A lot more light.

I heard a voice say, "OH NO. OH MAN...OH NO!" I won't write what I was saying.

I ran to my cell phone and called John. "You need to get back here NOW. Someone just broke the skylight." He groaned and hung up. Within two minutes I saw him pedalling his bicycle at about 50 miles per hour and I heard his voice. "What happened?"

The rest of the day was a three ring circus. Eddie, who was completely mortified, tried to reassure John that he could find a replacement part for the broken sun shade dome. There was a flurry of activity, people up on the roof and down on the ground, John in and out of the coach trying to reassure me that we would get it fixed before the sun set. I know better than that. You can't buy anything for this coach at Camping World. But I had my hands full with a real estate deal that we have been working on. Offers, counter offers and conference calls with a real estate group. At one point the negotiations were delayed because the agent was bitten by his dog and had to go to the hospital for stitches. That's when I started cleaning.

When I feel like things are totally running out of control my way of feeling like I have some effect on life is to clean. I clean like a Merry Maid gone mad. I vacuumed everything, cleaned all of the woodwork (that is a LOT of woodwork) cleaned the sinks, counters, toilet, windows and all of the leather (that is a LOT of leather) all the while John is madly trying to find a part to replace the broken skylight. When Robert (the big guy with the big feet) stepped on the dome it cracked in half and the actual clear skylight (on the inside) inverted. It looked a little like my bumper did when the woman backed into the Camry in the grocery store parking lot. John popped it back and it didn't crack. That was the happiest thing that happened before the sun set.

Eddie spent the day going to every RV supply and dealer in Tampa and the surrounding area. In the mean time John got on the phone to call Monaco (the coach maker) to see if they knew where we could get a part. I must explain here that if we leave it like it is at the moment and it rains we are going to end up with some serious damage to the roof due to leakage. So this must be fixed somehow before we can leave. Or before it rains. We are scheduled to pull out tomorrow morning.

Shiny clean Mary

Spotless wheels and tires!

Okay, so John calls Monaco out in Oregon because our guy Dennis in Wakarusa, Indiana got laid off last year when they closed the Wakarusa plant. We miss Dennis and hope he is doing well. Between the fuel prices going through the roof and the downturn in the economy (hysterical understatement) the RV business has taken a bloody beating. Back to the story. John dials Monaco and gets a recording telling him that they are no longer doing anything but warranty work and that if our coach is on warranty (not) to go to a web address and email them.

John hung up and looked at me with a seriously stressed expression. "They aren't answering the phone," he says. I thought about all of the contacts that we had at Monaco a year ago, we are talking a ton of people, and my heart sank. Then I remembered that we have the cell number of the top customer service guy, the first person that we spoke to when we started thinking about buying a Monaco coach. John praised my memory (a rarity these days!) and got his business card out. He got him on the phone and got the low down. The top customer service guy had been laid off a month ago and on Monday (yes, day before yesterday) Monaco laid off 2,500 employees at the Oregon plant. They are nearly shut down except for warranty work. No parts. He said he would do what he could. John called him a good man and hung up with a seriously stressed look on his face. "They are effectively out of business," he says.

The rest of the day I spent between real estate people (not fun) and searching the Internet for Monaco parts or parts that would fit a Monaco. John called several places that I found and got some serious attitude about Monaco and their parts. A few people said that they would try and call us back but as of this morning we haven't heard from anyone.

Last night I saw John and Whitley with their heads together just before the horse show started. They concocted a plan that may work. It involves finding some heavy plastic and using the frame of the broken skylight to bolt it down. It could work. In the mean time our dear friend Tim out in Oregon is going to go to Monaco (he lives within 20 miles of the plant) to see if he can get the part that we need and bring it to Scottsdale, which is where we are headed if John can figure out how to temporarily fix the skylight.

So last night we had dinner here in our shiny clean Mary (Eddie made the service complimentary) and walked over to the horse show. We stayed until just before American Idol started and then came back to further our addiction to the program. We slept and got up and stared all over again today. John is on the phone, pacing up and down outside with his phone in his ear still working on finding the part. If that fails in the next few minutes he will head off to Home Depot for heavy plastic and miscellaneous tools to secure it.

Sparkling Camry!

Breezy and Ransom were unhinged by all of the intense activity and upset around here so I took them for a well deserved long walk in the sun. It has warmed up outside so we trooped around the grounds and now they are taking their naps. Ransom looks like his skeleton dissolved in the co-pilot's seat with his head draped off of the edge of the seat. He has turned into a regular comedian keeping us in stitches continuously. Dogs are great for stress relief...a prescription that we need at the moment! I got back to Mary and discovered that I had stepped into some kind of sticky calking so I spent 20 minutes picking it out of the treads of my tennis shoe. I read on the Internet that you can remove chewing gum with mayonaise so I smeared it on my shoe and it is sitting on the counter hopefully loosening the sticky crap. Fun.

The good news is that Eddie and his crew did a beautiful job on cleaning the coach and the car, we are healthy and happy and John is on the roof installing some kind of black rubber material over the skylight so that we can leave in the morning. Life is good!

Getting Ready to Hit the Road

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Photo credit: Rick Metzger 2006

We are getting ready to say goodbye to the hibiscus, orange blossoms, the Indian River and Atlantic Ocean and head west to the desert. It has been a restful and warm winter with the exception of a side trip to Lexington to fix a small disaster in the kitchen of our townhouse. During a big ice storm the hot water valve on the dishwasher broke and it did all kinds of fun stuff to the cabinets, not to mention killing the dishwasher and garbage disposal so we spent two weeks working on that project and checking on our horse herd.

All is well in Lexington so we will be spending the next month on the road in Mary. We will take the same route that we took last year through Louisiana and Texas, stopping at some shows along the way, landing in Scottsdale for a week for the Carousel show and then into California and on to Oregon before we make our way back to Lexington for the spring and summer months. Mary has been wintering in a nice storage place up the road in Sebastian, Florida. We stopped by the other day to begin packing her and found that her hide-away television, located in the front over the cockpit, was stuck in the ceiling. A quick phone call to Bob, our trusty technician at Monaco in Oregon gave us the trick to fix her and in 30 seconds the TV was working perfectly. She is in great shape and we are getting anxious to get rolling again.

Breezy and Ransom have enjoyed their winter too. When we are here we can leave the sliding glass door open so that they can go in and out at their leisure. Well there really isn't much leisure for Breezy being the busy Border Collie that she is but Ransom...he is a sun worshiper! The dog lays around like a little lizard on the pavers by the pool in the afternoons. Even when he gets so warm that he starts panting he will just lay there and soak up sun and heat. Mornings are for chasing each other around the yard and the pool and afternoons for beach walks. As I said, they have had a good winter!

I'm working on a blog for John's business that should be finished in a week or two. We have a handy dandy little video camera made by Kodak that is about the size of a cell phone. It takes great videos and doesn't require disks or anything other than plugging it into my computer and downloading the video to email or upload to the blog so expect to see some video of our horses and horses that we video in our travels.

I will be keeping this blog updated regularly on our tour around the country so check back often. I hope you all had a safe and cozy winter! Spring is just 21 days away and for we daylight lovers Daylight Savings time starts in TEN DAYS!! YAAAYYYYY!!!!!!!