Day 25: Return To The Deep South

FRIDAY. What a long day! I am grateful to be out of the car for a few hours. We arrived in Mobile at 8:30 PM, checked into our room at a fun hotel (free popcorn and soda in the lobby), and collapsed on our comfy beds. It's late and I don't have much energy for blogging tonight. I must, however, report that I stopped at a McDonald's in Louisiana, rushed into the Ladies Room, and found only an ordinary oval wash basin. That being said, I'm fairly certain there was a Louisiana-shaped stain in the bottom of the sink.

Our day began with a trip to the lovely Tyler Rose Gardens. Unfortunately the roses bloom in April and September, so most of the blossoms looked a bit moth-eaten. They were still, however, fairly fragrant. It was a relaxing way to start the day, even though it was necessary to restrain Murphy, who kept trying to throw himself into muddy ponds and fountains.

After we left Texas and crossed the Louisiana state line, we drove 240 miles from Shreveport to Baton Rouge on a desolate, creepy road that I hope I never have to drive in the dark. My fantasies alternated between scenes from "Deliverance" and "Creature From The Black Lagoon." I kept expecting a slimy swamp creature to run across the road and throw itself on our windshield. When we finally arrived in Baton Rouge, we spent over an hour in bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic, which provided little relief from our scary ride. I'm surprised we're still speaking.

I'm disappointed I didn't find anything in the shape of Louisiana today. My current earworm: "Let Me Entertain You," sung by Ethel Merman.

Here are a few shots I took in the Tyler Rose Gardens.

Day 24: Why Texas Is Different

THURSDAY. 6:30 PM. We're in East Texas, spending the night in Tyler, the Rose Capital of the Nation. We turned down a great room with no internet and settled instead for a small, funky, mediocre room. This was probably a mistake, but at least we have internet here. It's not that I'm addicted to blogging or email or anything...

WAFFLES, TEXAS STYLE


To my amusement, this morning's Best Western breakfast waffle assumed the shape of the Lone Star State. (For those of you who are curious, I started with Brownsville and saved the Panhandle for last.) Starting the day with a chuckle was a blessing, because 15 miles east of Childress, I discovered I'd left my pillow and surge strip back at the motel. Doubling back, stopping for gas, and retrieving the forgotten items set us back nearly an hour.

Late morning we pulled into a strip mall for a beverage and rest stop in Vernon, TX, birthplace of Roy Orbison and Jack Teagarden. To my astonishment and further amusement, the washroom sink at McDonald's was shaped like Texas. I washed in the Panhandle, lathered in Big Bend, and rinsed in East Texas, which seemed the only logical thing to do. This is not my photo, but here's the sink.


I'm just sorry we didn't spend the night at the Big Texan Motel in Amarillo.


But wait, there's more! How about a nice juicy Texas cheeseburger?


A holiday gift basket for loved ones?


Care to roast some jalapenos Texas-style?


My friend Judy sent me this one. Medium rare or well done?


I Googled "Texas-shaped" this evening and discovered many more, including sunglasses, candles, baking pans, potholders, trivets, clocks, bread, ashtrays, dishes, pottery, fudge, pavers, tortilla chips, lollipops, dog biscuits, nightlights, pillows, picture frames, cookie cutters, and last, but not least, nailheads -- all Texas-shaped. I remain nonplussed by this seeming obsession of Texans with Texas-shaped things. Not that there's anything wrong with it...

Oh yeah, there's one more reason why Texas is different: It takes three weeks to drive across the state...or at least it seems that way.

WORLD'S WORST DRIVERS

I have driven all over the United States. Boston drivers rank among the worst in the nation. Today, however, we discovered the motherlode of bad driving in Dallas. No one uses directional signals and weaving is the favored highway driving technique. Cars cutting in front of us took our breath away more than once. Luckily we lived to tell the tale. Getting through Dallas was hair-raising. Once out of the city, I immediately fell asleep. Fortunately, I was not driving.

So we didn't make it to Shreveport, another 90 or so miles. Tomorrow is another day. We'll get home eventually.

EARWORMS

No, it's not something that crawls inside your ear, lays eggs, and emerges out the other ear, like that old Twilight Zone episode. An earworm is a song or tune that repeats over and over inside a person's head. I have been plagued with earworms for years. Apparently, it's quite normal. According to an ongoing study at the University of Cincinnati, nearly everyone has been mentally tortured at some point in their lives by earworms. The research also indicates that people who get the most earworms tend to listen to music frequently and have neurotic habits, such as biting pencils or tapping fingers. For more information and a list of the top 10 songs that get stuck in people's heads, click here.

Today's earworm was Carole King's "You've Got A Friend." What was your earworm today?

M has just returned with a big bag of greasy BBQ. Time to eat dinner, and then settle into a relaxing evening of finger tapping to the Orlons' 1962 hit, "Wah Watusi," now playing in my head.

Still Day 23: Musings From Cowtown

7:10 PM. CHILDRESS, TX. What a long day! For all our time on the road, we only covered 400 miles, culminating in a frantic search for tolerable lodgings. Money is no longer a factor when choosing a room. In some parts of the country, finding a decent room, at whatever cost, is a monumental challenge. After checking several establishments, we decided on the Best Western here in Childress, somewhere between Amarillo and Dallas.

Albuquerque was blessed with heavy rains again last night. More submerged streets and flooded homes were featured on the late evening news. Finally there's relief from the drought, but at great cost to those living in low lying areas. I can't even begin to address the floods in the east...

Today's journey took us through eastern New Mexico, which looked just like my teenage memories of the Land of Enchantment: red soil, tufts of dark green shrubs, mesas, hills and buttes. In some areas, the vegetation was almost lush. Our morning drive was highly enjoyable. M doesn't like it when I take photos while I'm driving (see photo below), but I can't help myself. I just love to hear that shutter click.


Midday, we pulled into Tucumcari, NM , population 5500, to take a break from drving and explore the city. They say it's easy to find dinosaur fossils and footprints in the area. There's even a dinosaur museum in town. The town's original name was Six Shooter Siding and I have no idea what that means. No one seems to know what Tucumcari means either, but there's speculation that it's derived from a Comanche word meaning "lookout point." However, there are other theories and no one can be sure. Regardless, I've not seen such a depressed, rundown town in a long time. A quick stop at the Chamber of Commerce yielded attractive images of a town long gone. Route 66, celebrated in an annual Route 66 Festival, boasts vintage 60s motels, which for the most part have not been updated. One can find a room in an original Route 66 motel in Tucumcari for only $17.95. However, one must be content with bedsheets for window curtains. Get your kicks on Route 66...

Wind farms were visible on the horizon in New Mexico and Texas, and we wondered about a world powered exclusively by solar, wind and hydro. We knew we were in the Texas panhandle when mesas gave way to miles and miles of plains, dotted with the occasional cow or windmill.

Speaking of cows, sometime this afternoon we came upon an enormous beef ranch alongside the Interstate. Though I've enjoyed occasional forays into the vegetarian lifestyle, I'm really a carnivore at heart. However, I have certain requirements for eating meat: it must be neatly disguised only on my plate and bear no resemblance to an animal. At the supermarket it should look like something interesting on a styrofoam tray, neatly wrapped in Saran. Show me the animal from which that steak is cut and I'll go running for the tofu. It was painful to see thousands of beef cattle herded into pens at the side of the road, knowing they would eventually wind up on someone's plate. It's a tough issue for me. I enjoy meat. I enjoy the texture, the flavor, the nutritional benefits. I am one who believes red meat is not unhealthy when consumed in moderation. But please, don't tell me it comes from an animal. I prefer to believe that steak grows on trees and is packaged on nice plastic trays for good people like me. Never mention Mad Cow Disease. And never, ever serve me a fish with its head still attached without plenty of decorative kale garnish to blanket its eyes.

Medically this derangement is known as DSD, or Dietary Schizophrenia Disorder. The only known treatment is a four week hunting trip in the mountains of North Carolina.


Speaking of beef, I have worked up a fierce hunger, so I think I'll break for dinner now and return to my musings later.

9:40 PM. We've just returned from a sunset walk with Murphy and noticed significant damage to buildings and signage near the motel. Evidently an F2 tornado roared through Childress on May 9. The town was struck by a tornado in April 2004 as well. The evidence of wind damage is so unmistakeable: blown out signs and shingles littering parking lots. We are so familiar with storm debris. I wish we weren't.

Geek Girl Goes Hi-Tech From The Road

Day 23: And We're Off!

WEDNESDAY. Just a quick post to let you all know we're on our way back to Florida. Car is running great and nearly packed. Our planned early morning departure was delayed by two sleepy people. I'll be posting audioblogs by phone from the road, so check back later today to hear them.

Day 22: No Dancing Allowed

TUESDAY. 9:20 AM. I received an email this morning with a fervert plea to stop the rain dance. A friend who lives in the SE foothills of Albuquerque wrote to let me know that my dancing produced copious hail and five inches of water in her back yard, two inches of which wound up in her living room. I'm hanging up my dance shoes. There are puddles of standing water in the hotel parking lot this morning, even though the rain stopped early last evening. At 8 AM the humidity was a moist 69%.

We're hoping to hit the road tomorrow morning for a swift sprint back to Florida. The hotel is moving us to another room today. We've been in the special needs room since the rat incident and someone else needs the room tonight. I'm hoping the car will be ready early this afternoon so we can run our errands and be ready to escape first thing Wednesday morning.

Day 21: Watching And Waiting

MONDAY. 12:30 PM. No car today. The shop sent the Caravan to a transmission shop this morning. Now the transmission guys have to drive the car around to replicate the problem. No word yet, and it's afternoon. Keep driving, boys. We'd like to rent a car, but can't until the problem is diagnosed and approved by the warranty company. If we rent one before the repair is approved, the rental isn't covered. So here we sit, watching and waiting. Watching Murphy sleep, watching the wind blow dust outside our room, watching a banana turn brown, watching our funds dwindle...waiting for news about the car, waiting for housekeeping to give us clean towels, waiting for email, waiting for Godot.

They say it may take a week for the transmission work to be completed.

5 PM. The car was returned to us mid-afternoon after United Transmission was unable to find anything wrong. They took it out for two test drives and found nothing. Zip. Nada. Reluctantly we picked up the car, tried to figure out our next move, and decided to speak once more with the friendly folks at United Transmission. They suggested the problem we described was not the transmission, but the CV joint. After running a few essential banking and shopping errands, we returned the car to Arrow Automotive with a mandate to check the CV joint.

Less than an hour later Jim called with news of a broken motor mount, which can be easily fixed tomorrow, and for a very reasonable price. They said this is what caused the erratic clunking. It makes perfect sense.

We're hoping they find nothing more, but it would be nice to get a new blower motor for the A/C so we don't have to drive 2200 miles with an annoying squeal. The squeal, like everything else in this car, is intermittent, so I sincerely hope the fan misbehaves and sings loudly for them when they troubleshoot the A/C.

Enough car drama for one day. I wish there were more to report and apologize for a boring blog entry. Things like this try my patience, but in the end everything always works out. I'm releasing expectations and embracing the moment as we drift from today into tomorrow, which will surely be a wonderful day.

7:30 PM. This is what happens in Albuquerque during monsoon season in the late afternoon/early evening. The wind is blowing at 40-50 mph, there's thunder from the east, the sky looks like the end of the world, and if you're lucky you feel 6 drops of rain. But that's it. At least it's breaking up the monotony of several days in this hotel room.


7:45 PM. Eureka! It's raining! Real hard rain! I vowed that I would make it while I was here. I guess that dance paid off. I made it rain! I made it rain!

8:30 PM. Rain's stopped, but the wind is still blowing around 45 mph. An amazing rainbow appeared over the Sandias, and this is what it looked like to the west.

Day 20: Dust In The Wind

SUNDAY. This morning I discovered it's a very bad idea to leave car windows cracked at night. I like the sound of the words "canyon winds," but the reality is far less romantic. Winds in the desert carry an awful lot of dust, much of which was deposited in the car overnight. My morning drive was a gritty experience. I must remember to get some industrial strength Swiffer Dusters for the car.

Tomorrow morning our good friends at Arrow Automotive will dismantle our transmission and order a new one for us. We are pleased that the intermittent problem we noticed all week reappeared when the mechanic was driving the car. Saturday afternoon Jim at Arrow phoned to say they'd been driving the car for awhile and hadn't heard the noise we complained of. "Keep driving," I instructed him. And he did. Several hours (and a few gallons of gas) later, Jim phoned and happily announced, "We heard the clunk." The extended warranty on the Caravan expires in 3000 miles, so the transmission should be covered. What a blessing! We were more than a little nervous about driving the Caravan back to Florida with a transmission that was going bad. I guess we'll be in Albuquerque a few more days.

Several minutes ago, a few raindrops fell outside our room, and I do mean "a few." Hardly worth mentioning. The sky looked ominous late this afternoon, the wind howled, lightning strikes could be seen across the desert, but no rain fell on Albuquerque, other than the few drops I saw on the window. Meanwhile, Port Charlotte is receiving heavy afternoon rain and strong thunderstorms daily, not to mention tornadoes.

We did laundry again today. I know we've been gone a long time because we just did laundry for the fourth time since we left Florida. After the final dry and fold, we left Murphy sleeping peacefully in our room and went to the New Mexico Arts and Crafts Fair at the New Mexico State Fairgrounds, ten minutes away.



It was a beautiful day when we arrived. Walking through the lovely Fairgrounds and seeing some very interesting work was pleasant and relaxing, but hot. I counted no less than four different musical offerings, from blue grass to a German "oompah" band. This didgeridoo player was a regular one-man band. He sounded great!

Time to nuke some dinner in the microwave. We try to eat in the room and not go out too often for meals, mostly because Murphy gets bored in the room by himself. Microwaved meals aren't exactly gourmet fare. We'll be glad to get back to home-cooked meals. It's not always easy traveling with a spoiled canine.

It would be nice to see some rain here in the desert. Surprisingly, the flowers still manage to thrive nicely.

Day 19: Reasons To Be Cheerful, Part 3

SATURDAY. Do you remember that odd little 1979 song by Ian Dury and the Blockheads called Reasons To Be Cheerful, Part 3? The song is basically a laundry list of things the singer feels happy about. I've been taking a gratitude inventory lately and realizing that life is good, all is well, and there is much for which I'm grateful.

Carving my own slice of happiness in a world that often seems grim challenges me daily and keeps me in the moment. Seeing the world through a camera lens pleases me and helps me reframe what my eye sees. Sometimes I see only shadows, and other times I see beautiful things. On a really good day, I see beauty in the shadows.

This is the roof of the gazebo in the hotel courtyard. As late afternoon shadows danced on the beams above, the clean lines and play of light left me feeling strangely satisfied.


Murphy has become a fixture in this hotel. Everyone knows him, both guests and staff. A bag of treats marked "Murphy" is found behind the front desk. I refill it regularly. He loves the babies and children staying in the hotel, and they love him. He's goofy, playful, and sometimes surprisingly well-behaved. His enthusiasm is boundless, and he teaches me so much about staying in the present, stopping to smell the roses (and in his case, far less pleasant things), and seizing the day. But best of all, Murphy smiles.


And now, the Big News...

After a great deal of research, much soul searching, and hours of discussion, we have decided to make Albuquerque our next home. M has applied for a teaching position in Albuquerque and we've found a spacious adobe house to rent in a quiet neighborhood surrounded by horse farms. The park is only 3 blocks away and Murphy will have a fenced-in back yard. There is very little about Albuquerque we don't like. Thus far, it's all good. We've even found an honest car mechanic.

We've rediscovered many of our favorite northeast stores here, including Trader Joe's, Whole Foods, Wild Oats, and an Einstein Bagels shop. The city is bursting with ethnic eateries and interesting neighborhoods. Traffic is manageable. It's not too hot and not too cold. The dollar goes a lot further here. Housing seems affordable. In fact, Albuquerque is #3 on Kiplinger's recent "50 Smart Places to Live" list ("This laid-back city offers resort-town ambience, a boomtown economy and cow-town prices...").

People are exceptionally nice here. Looking west from the foothills over the city, the desert seems to stretch all the way to the Pacific. To the east, the Sandias are magnificent. The sun shines 300 days a year. Biking, hiking and skiing are mere minutes from the city. The University of New Mexico sprawls near the downtown area. In the two weeks we've been here, we've shared several wonderful meals with friends and look forward to many more gatherings. It's so good to see our friends again.

And, no hurricanes. The risk of natural disasters is extremely low in Albuquerque. But that's not why we're moving here, though I admit it sweetens the deal. If hurricanes were the only reason for leaving Florida, I would have moved a year ago.

To all my East Coast friends and family, please know I will miss each and every one of you tremendously and hope you will visit us. Though it seems like a sudden decision, we've considered the possibility of relocating to the southwest for years, and I'm happy things are coming together smoothly for this major transition. Please share our joy.

I have so many reasons to be cheerful, including tonight's sunset.

Day 18: Happy Birthday Murphy!

FRIDAY. Today is Murphy's fifth birthday. (After this photo was taken, he ate the hat.)

Day 17: Lake Cochiti

THURSDAY. In spite of 3 AM wakefulness, I awoke refreshed this morning, ready to face a new day. Murphy earned his keep as a watchdog this morning, alerting us to a strange, disheveled man peering in our first floor window, who subsequently entered the hotel and attempted to gain entry to the room next to ours. He was harmless, but homeless, and extremely confused. Eventually the hotel manager escorted him out the front door. The staff was very grateful that Murphy let all of us know that something odd was afoot.

After exploring even more new neighborhoods and finding Balloon Fiesta Park, site of the annual Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta, we had some lunch and drove to Lake Cochiti (pronounced ko-chi-tee, accent on the first syllable) so Murphy could swim.

As we left the Interstate and drove north on Rte. 22, passing through several small pueblos, we noticed numerous rain storms around us. But none of the rain reached the ground. It all evaporated on the way down.


We stopped to look at the Cochiti Dam, which forms the Lake on the Rio Grande.







Murphy enjoyed a good long swim in the lake.


When Murphy seemed sufficiently exhausted, we headed back to Albuquerque, stopping to buy some food on the way home. We drove past the Xeriscape Garden and I stopped to snap this picture of a rather long-eared rabbit wandering in the Garden.


The fire danger continues to be extreme in this part of New Mexico. While Albuquerque and Santa Fe are experiencing severe drought, Alamagordo (to the south) suffered flooding during heavy thunderstorms this evening, floods that forced evacuations in the some areas of the city. Albuquerque is somewhat protected from severe storms by the Sandias, but at a high price: little or no rain.

We are winding down our stay in Albuquerque and are planning to leave on Saturday or Sunday. Last night a tornado touched down in our home town of Port Charlotte. Violent weather seems to be a problem just about everywhere. I'm grateful that our home was spared, though homes as close as three blocks away were damaged. I'm also thankful I was 2200 miles away when this happened. I'm a wimp. I admit it. Dramatic weather no longer thrills me. Give me a quiet, sunny day, or a gentle, steady rain. The kind I remember from my childhood.

Day 16: Rest

WEDNESDAY. Sometimes the body just quits and says, "Enough!" Faced with a minor health challenge, I opted to remain horizontal for much of the day, but rallied for a brief evening commitment. This forced rest period gave me time to think, reflect, and be with my thoughts while the expected repairs to body (and soul) occurred. The downside of sleeping all day is finding myself wakeful at 3 AM, sitting in front of my laptop, lights out so as not to wake others who are sleeping soundly. There is much snoring coming from the other side of the room from my 2 and 4 legged traveling companions. I am jealous of their deep slumber.

Practicing my rusty Spanish at every opportunity, I'm discovering I remember far more than I imagined. I am actually able to make myself understood. This motivates me to deepen my knowledge of Spanish in a more disciplined way. Fluency beckons.

I read a startling statistic today in connection with the drought. According to the National Weather Service, Albuquerque has received only .41 inches of rain since May 2005. This past week it has been clouding up in the afternoon, and sometimes briefly rains over the mountains, but the rain evaporates before reaching the valley, creating "dry thunderstorms." I will think of this in the coming weeks when I'm backwashing the pool after a heavy rainfall that dumps 3-5 inches. Too bad the extra rain can't be harvested and piped to arid regions.

Our New Mexican vacation seems to be winding down and we are contemplating the drive back to Hurricane Alley. We hope our return route will be fast and direct, through Amarillo and Dallas instead of West Texas. Murphy can't wait to get back for his daily pool swims.

For now, more rest is in order to prepare for a long drive at the end of the week.

Day 15: Xeriscape Garden

TUESDAY. A midday trip to the Albuquerque Police Department Xeriscape Garden yielded a few photos I'd like to share with you. It was quite hot today, so I didn't stick around for too long.

Day 14: Drought

MONDAY. Everyone mentions the drought at least once a day here. It's almost religious. Weather forecasters deliver the same drone each night at six o'clock: "No rain in the forecast," and then they sigh. June marks the beginning of monsoon season in New Mexico, typically the season when most of the yearly rainfall occurs. Yet, Albuquerque and much of New Mexico (and the entire southwest) have not seen a "juicy summer" since 1999, when the second highest rainfall in Albuquerque's history was recorded. I was stunned to learn that the average summer total rainfall is around 6 inches. In Florida, it isn't unusual to see totals of 4-6 inches in a single day!

Water conservation is, obviously, of paramount importance in desert areas. Much of the city's water supply is pumped from a depth of a staggering 1800 feet. Incentives and rebates are offered to residents, and it's hard to talk about water conservation without hearing the word "xeriscaping." I have only learned about xeriscaping in the past several weeks, thanks to my exceptionally knowledgeable and environmentally-conscious friend, Maryellen.

Literally, the word xeriscaping comes from a combination of two other words: "xeri," derived from the Greek word "xeros" for dry; and "scape," meaning a kind of view or scene. While xeriscape translates to mean "dry scene," in practice xeriscaping means simply landscaping with slow-growing, drought tolerant plants to conserve water and reduce yard trimmings. A popular practice, there's even a Xeriscaping Conference held each year in Albuquerque. Xeriscaping isn't specific to New Mexico. It is practiced all over the U.S. and Canada where water is an issue.

The City of Albuquerque maintains a water conservation website that features xeriscaping information and other water saving ideas. It seems strange to think people need convincing that water conservation is critical in the desert, yet the website asks: "Why Xeriscaping?" The answer:

• Xeriscaping saves water.
• Xeriscaping saves time (de-emphasizing the use of
  bluegrass lawns and thirsty plants, which take time to maintain).
• Xeriscaping saves money.

OK, I'm convinced. Besides, native drought-resistant plants can be quite beautiful and certainly enhance the appearance of adobe homes so common in New Mexico.


I have also learned about "zero-scaping," which is not unlike xeriscaping in that it saves water, but is far less interesting, relying on rocks and single plantings of cactus or yucca. Xeriscaping can be quite lush. Zero-scaping is stark. Xeriscaping is artful, creative, a blend of diversity and texture. Zeroscaping is bland and boring. But it does save water.

My personal mission on this trip to New Mexico is to do a rain dance every evening. It probably won't work, but it will help me shed the pounds that Flying Star Cafe's decadent chocolate desserts are adding to my otherwise small frame. Their chocolate mousse cake nearly flies off the plate and applies itself directly to my posterior.

I just checked the extended forecast on weather.com, and the words "scattered thunderstorms" appear several times next week. Perhaps my gyrations are helping.

Day 13: Sandia Peak Tramway

SUNDAY. Happy Father's Day from the Land of Enchantment. Today's highlights: yummy brunch (thank you M & G!), reading the Sunday paper, naps, exploring the North Valley and Northeast Albuquerque, and an early evening trip to the Sandia Tramway to look at the city from the base of the mountain.

The Sandia Peak Tramway, the world's longest tram, was built in 1966. The 15 minute trip to the summit, ascending 4,000 feet from a base elevation of 6,559 feet, gives riders a spectacular view of the mountain's terrain, wildlife, and even pieces of aircraft debris from a 1955 TWA crash. I guess we are finally getting used to the altitude, because I was only slightly winded climbing the stairs to the tram gift shop at 6,559 feet. I recall feeling lightheaded after a drive up the Autoroad on New Hampshire's Mount Washington, a 6,288 foot peak, several years ago. I guess my red blood cells have kicked into high gear. We looked forward to riding the tram to the summit one of these days.



The setting sun cast some very interesting light on the mountain and the tram. We stayed until the orb dropped below the horizon and watched the city lights begin to flicker in the valley 1,500 feet below.




I don't know what it is about being above the city and looking down, but it leaves me feeling very peaceful. The sight of the vast desert beyond the western edge of the city is calming and makes me smile.

High points of the day:

• Finally being able to communicate with the housekeeping staff in Spanish
• Rediscovering the durability and value of old friendships
• Gazing at the entire city below from the Sandia foothills
• Realizing I'm beginning to find my way around Albuquerque without a map
• Discovering there are lots of drainage canals where Murphy can swim

All is well. Now if only we could make it rain...but that's another story.

Nota Bene: For those family members who are printing out my daily blogs, in order to print out ONLY one day's blog, and not 4 or 5 entries all at once, click the blog entries individually in the righthand column (under "Previous Posts"). That will bring up the daily blogs, and not the unabridged collected works.