Grand Tour of America

Update

2009-01-31T01:32:00.000-08:00

Well where do I start. It is some time since I posted as life has been hectic. As you know my other half got made redundant after 30 years service on the Friday before Christmas, so that did not get us off to a very good start for what was supposed to be a holiday break for us.

His mother had been taken ill at the beginning of December, then spent two weeks in hospital with what turned out to be heart failure, and then catching the norovirus. So this meant we were not able to visit and they eventually closed the hospital for a couple of weeks whilst they tried to get the virus under control. We collected her from her home as she was visiting us all over Christmas. This lead to her staying a month as she was too sick to go home. We discovered that there had been no proper discharge plan and her doctor had not been notified she was going home. Her other son is not capable of looking after her, so we found her weak and frail, not eating and with a the memory of a sieve. This lead to issues over medication and we have finally got her doctor to agree to a nomad pack, although some days she does not know what day it is, so there is still the danger of over or under medicating. We took her back home and now phone her on a daily basis to check she is ok.

Whilst she was here she saw our doctor a couple of times, and we have severe memory issues with her. She had completely lost her sequencing of thoughts, could not remember if she had eaten or taken her medication. Did not remember going out to a New Years Eve party and so on. I work with people who have dementia, but believe me it is far different when you are living with it and mighty hard work. How many times can you be asked the same question and still be smiling?

Later today we are going to look at a house that has a granny annexe, with a view to her coming to live with us.

In amongst this the other half is job searching, and being dragged up to London for interviews, only to find that the majority of them are Life Coaches who want to relieve him of a sizable chunk of his redundancy pay to show him how to get a job. Well, as that is what I did for many years before moving into the care sector, I got the fealing that was money wasted, and that we could better use for ourselves.

I have found the whole thing hard as it completely changes your routine and with his self confidence at an all time low, makes you feel you need to walk on eggshells.

Still the good news is that he has a 3 month contract starting Monday, that will give him more to put on his CV showing how flexible and well rounded he is. (of course they can see how well rounded he is, must get down to our diets now that we have lost some of the stress we have been under). We will then take a two week break at the beginning of May. We have a holiday place in the New Forest - nothing swish, but a good place for a retreat, and then hopefully there will be something else in the pipeline for him. His agent thinks that there is quite a lot of contract work around at the moment due to the financial crisis and the work he does is to do with computer compliance amongst other things, so we shall wait and see.

Mary

Happy Christmans

2008-12-23T14:58:00.000-08:00

Please click on this link to see your card.

Here is hoping 2009 brings better luck

2008-12-22T14:40:00.000-08:00

2008 is finishing on a poor note for us. Bob was made redundant on 19th December. No consultation or negotiation, just an interview to tell him that out of the 3 of 7 people who might be made redundant he had been chosen. Not bad for 30 years of service for the same company. So you will appreciate that he is not a happy bunny and everything I try to suggest is a critism. Unfortunately his current circumstances does not take away the fact that outside of work he is a lazy sod, who would rather play with his computer - chess and emails (or whatever), watch cricket and go birdwatching. Home type things are not for him, so households tasks are something to be done only when we have visitors, and as we do not have them often enough, his efforts housework wise are extremely limited.

Whilst all that was going on his mother became ill and managed to get a serious chest infection, and then the noro virus which closed the hospital for over two weeks.

We are off tomorrow to fetch her here for Christmas, so a journey to Exeter. Of course the house is not fit for guests, too untidy, very dusty and goodness knows only knows when last hoovered. Sympton of the fact that I work long hours and have a partner who would not recognise the place was mess unless he could no longer get through the door.

And yes I am feeling undervalued and sorry for myself at present

2008-11-19T16:09:00.000-08:00

2008's First Christmas Joke
Three men died on Christmas Eve and were met by Saint Peter at the pearly gates.'In honor of this holy season' Saint Peter said, 'You must each possess something that symbolizes Christmas to get into heaven.'The first man fumbled through his pockets and pulled out a lighter. He flicked it on. 'It represents a candle', he said.'You may pass through the pearly gates' Saint Peter said. The second man reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He shook them and said, 'They're bells.'Saint Peter said 'You may pass through the pearly gates'.The third man started searching desperately through his pockets and finally pulled out a pair of women's panties.St. Peter looked at the man with a raised eyebrow AND asked, 'And just what do those symbolize?'The man replied, 'These are Carols.' And So The Christmas SeasonBegins......

Snow uppdate

2008-10-29T15:27:00.000-07:00

Well, after oversleeping due to my late night meeting, I set off for work. It was not too bad when I left home, the snow on my car and our houses had disappeared. As I got nearer my meeting destination for today the snow laying was getting thicker and thicker and the road conditions worse, with slushy snow/ice.

What finally blew my mind away was the clear blue skies and bright sunshine, the gorgeous autumn colours of the trees, all vibrant oranges and reds, the snow laying on the fields amd hedges, and then would you believe a hot air balloon rising up in the distance - a combination of summer, autumn and winter all in one - just wish I had my camera with me.

The temperatures are still very low for this time of year, although according to the weather forcast they will rise again next week. No wonder the main topic of conversation for us Brits is the weather - lol.

Well at least I will have someone to warm my feet on this evening as the SO is back from his training course.

OMG its snowing

2008-10-28T15:57:00.000-07:00

I have just come out of a late meeting to be greeted by snow. Falling heavily, albeit onto very wet roads. Running around to the car park I found my car covered and the temperature reading saying it was -5 degrees c. Now how can that be for 28th October, summer is barely over, except that we never really had one, and autumn has just begun.

I have 20 miles to drive to and from work each day, and it was a horrible drive home this evening, especially as it was now 10.00 pm and I was tired, and with sore eyes due to too much time on the computer today. The damn staff always want paying during the last week of the month lol.

Last night was extremely cold and in the absence of my SO who is on some conference or other, I had to find other means of warming my feet up - so went in search of another blanket. Given the temperature this evening I may have to find another blanket and wear bed socks.

They are forecasting snow through the night and extremely icy roads in the morning, which may not bode too well for my journey up the M4

Still for now it is late, so I am going to bed with a magazine read for a few mins, and then hopefully into the land of nod till 7.00 am

Sorting things out

2008-10-27T15:38:00.000-07:00

Well it is just like leaving home and losing your telephone directory. I think I have now found everyone and have suscribed to the followers list.

Apart from that life is hectic at present both workwise and homewise. I am ploughing through mountains of paperwork to try and get my life into some sort of paperwork order. I was painted at work and had 13 years worth of paperwork to sort out. Managed to sort all the loose stuff out that had never got filed, and now I need to go through files and filing cabinets to sort them out. I took the drastic decision to open folders on my Outlook email and just drag emails there, rather than print meeting notes out. I have been doing that for a year now, and guess what - I had my computer upgraded last week and they lost all of my sub-folders - still at least I did not need to make a decision of what to keep and what not to keep.

At home, paperwork is pretty much the same - there is so much junk mail that comes through the post and I swear I throw it out as soon as it arrives, but I still managed to half fill the recycling bin this evening. Then of course there are all the half read magazines that I never get chance to read, and the craft magazines I buy with good intent but never start or finish the projects.

My SO is away on business so at least that gives me a chance for some semi-serious sorting out.

Well enough of my ramblings, time for bed

Nite, nite

Hi

2008-10-09T00:35:00.000-07:00

Well here I am - apart from my graphics and pictures I made it over here in around 10 minutes using the Magic Smoke wizard - so lets hope that nothing goes wrong whilst they close down AOL journals.

We are taking a couple of days off work this week. Cannot seem to get a clear run to have a week or two off, so we are going for long week ends to eat up some of our holiday allocation. Here in the UK holiday entitlement has increased starting from last year by a couple of days a week, until next year when most people can expect the equivalent of around 5 weeks per year as a government minimum.

So we are off to visit our daughter on the South Coast, I will take her out for a spot of retail therapy and lunch, whilst the other half tramps the marshes in search of unusual birds (he assures me they are the feathered variety).

Diabetes

2008-09-22T16:11:00.000-07:00

I have been looking at various websites and wonder if anyone has any experiences with Glucobetic tablets for diabetes - I am being threatened with insulin, and would rather try some natural herbal remedies first, but as these only appear to be available in America and not in the UK, I would like an opinion first

About our holiday to Canada

2008-06-13T21:17:00.000-07:00

Saturday 7th June 2008

Well, I was up bright and early on Saturday, even before the alarm went off. There was final packing to be done, and something had to be done about the hair, far too much grey. Could hear Mum stirring, but thought I would leave my sister in for as long as possible, because she was likely to wake up in aggravating mode, as is the case when she gets excited. Poor girl does not get to do exciting things all that often. You guessed it, Mum was up so everyone was up and so the day started.

Made a good getaway at the appointed time. Sara came to get us with Marcus to chaperone her. We made good time to the airport and we were through check in almost before we could blink. Passport control was a doddle, so by 11.30 we were wondering what to do with the next two hours before we boarded. Did the usual stock up of magazines, had a cup of tea and a disgraceful muffin. Finally we made our way to the departure lounge, where there was eventually an announcement that the crew had been delayed getting to the airport so we would be leaving late. So a 2.00 pm flight became a 3.30 flight.

Once into the flight and approx 250 miles out the captain announces that there is trouble with the wing flaps that he is trying to sort, and there is a possibility that we will be turning back when he has been able to shed enough fuel. Sometime later he announced that he knew what the problem was and that we were going to proceed on to Toronto. Atthis point, my sister, who is not a seasoned traveller asked what the problem had been, as she had been asleep when the original announcement had been made. Something we were pleased about as she is a nervous traveller. We had been anticipating a flight of around 3500 miles, but in fact we had flown around 4000 miles. Just before we came in to land the captain suggested that we reacquaint ourselves with the whereabouts of the emergency exits, so I had been anticipating the command to brace for an emergency landing. Fortunately that never came, although we had to travel for virtually all the journey with the seat belt lights on, so we are assuming that the wing flap problem never fully went away and the pilot was ensuring that there was as little fuel as possible left for when we came to land.

Our arrival at Toronto was eventful as they could not dock the exit steps for us to leave the plane, so we had to wait sometime until they could achieve a good fit, whatever that meant. Then we came to collect the hire car, only to be told that our booking was in someone else’s address. That was eventually sorted out and we embarked on our 60 mile drive to Niagara Falls. Of course, by then it was dark. We had not got a SatNav and did not have a map, meaning we had to find Kitchener Street in the dark. Bob for once did not do the man thing, and agreed to stop at a local shop to ask directions.

The motel is basic, has seen better days and was probably a Days Inn at some point. Still it is relatively cheap and within walking distance of the downtown area. By now it was about 9.30 local time, so around 2.30 am UK time, and off we went in search of food. The food on the plane had been minimal, although what we did get was tasty. We found a local pasta place and had chicken with pasta, washed down with a couple of glasses of wine. This was followed by a quick trip into a couple of shops to see if we could get some mugs and coffee. After an abortive attempt at this we returned to the motel and fell into bed, and what would by now be around 4.00 am UK time.

Sunday 8th June 2008

Our intention had been to sleep in until we woke naturally, rather than set alarms, so of course I woke up around 4.00, never went back to sleep properly, and was finally up round 8.30 am. There was no way I could make tea, as we had not found a shop to buy in anything for breakfast. We had said that we would not disturb Mum and sister, so we waited till around 10.00 am and decided to load the car, hoping that the noise it makes when you lock and unlock it may give them a clue that we were getting restless. (Must have been the coffee I found in reception when I went to see what tourist leaflets they had). This worked and we finally got out for breakfast at 11.30, going to Al Macs where they served an eat as much as you like buffet for $6.99 (about £3.50). So we got the works, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, potatoes, waffles, pancakes, fruit, yoghurt and I am sure somethings I have missed.

We then set of to give them a tantalising glimpse of Niagara Falls. We had agreed that we would do the Falls on Monday and Tuesday in the hope that it would not be so crowded. We drove up past the falls, and then on up the Niagara River. We followed the Niagara trail ending up in Fort Erie where we were treated to a guided tourby a young man (called Blair if we liked his speel, or Max if we did not) dressed as an English solder at the time of the 1812 battle between America and Canada for the possession of Fort Erie. He gave us an interesting commentary about the battle and how the English came to lose so many men. We were given a demonstration of muskets being fired, and shown around the Fort and its living accommodation. Well worth a visit and Bob now has yet another history book to add to his unread collection (sorry I meant his collection of books ready for his retirement).

After leaving Fort Erie we retraced out steps on the Niagara trail, this time taking us on up to Niagara on the Lakes – a lovely village type place that we had stayed at last time we were in Canada. I probably forgot to say that this is our third time at Niagara, having been here twice before when Bob came out on business. This trip has come about because when Bob was on secondment in New York we asked Mum where else she would like to visit given the chance, and Niagara was the one place her and Dad had always wanted to visit. So that is why we are here, unfortunately without Dad as he died almost 4 years ago, and hence the reason my sister is with us.

We stopped at the Whirlpool and watched the way the water comes down and then circles round changing direction before it flows off at a 90 degree angle. At this point there is also a cable car that takes you across the river, which Mum had been thinking might be nice to go on. That was until it came back and sherealised you had to stand, and she thought it might not do her vertigo any good.

On the way up to Niagara on the Lakes we spotted the Living Water Wayside Chapel, which we had passed before, so on the way back we stopped. Today the door was open so we called in. This has got to be the smallest church. There are two pews inside, which look as if they will seat 4 – 6 at the most. Lovely little chapel and now well photographed.

On our way back we also stopped at the Floral Clock. I am sure that it did not have hands and work as a clock last time we were here, but today the second hand was going round, so of course the hands were moving and it was just chiming 6.45 when we arrived.

Back down to Niagara where we had intended to walk out for supper, we had to succumb to the car as the heavens opened accompanied by thunder and lightening. Once we had supper we had a drive around to see what else Niagara had to offer, found Clifton Hill, which is like a mini Las Vegas. I am not sure if I like it, but it is full of attractions like wax works, casinos, and so on. Apparently it was developed around 5 years ago for the tourists. We are going to wander out sometime tomorrow to check it out whilst walking. This evening was rounded off by driving up past Niagara to see the light show and then back to the motel, where Bob is now snoring gently as he has already gone to bed with yet another headache. Guess who will be seeing the GP when we get back to the UK.

Over a year now

2008-06-02T00:21:00.000-07:00

Well, thinking about our forthcoming trip to Canada got me thinking about our tour of America last year, which is what prompted the start of this blog. Now I thought I had started posting enteries when we got back in June, but on checking I actually started posting on May 20th 2007 - which means I have been here just over a year now.

Now can someone tell me how I get one of those tags for 1 year blogging.

Why I don't do windows

2008-05-18T04:03:00.000-07:00

Sent to me in an email - follow this link to see why I do not do housework

http://www.frontiernet.net/~shelby304/specials/dontdowindows/nowindows.htm

Diet and Nutrition Course

2008-05-10T05:32:00.000-07:00

I mentioned some time ago that I was doing a Diet and Nutrition course. I am glad to report that I have completed it and passed

For all Mum's celebtrating Mothers Day

2008-05-10T05:30:00.000-07:00

WHY I LOVE MUM *

Mum and Dad were watching TV when Mum said, 'I'm tired, and it's getting late. I think I'll go to bed'

She went to the kitchen to make sandwiches for the next day's lunches.

Rinsed out the popcorn bowls, took meat out of the freezer for dinner the following evening, checked the cereal box levels, filled the sugar container and put spoons and bowls on the table.

She then put some wet clothes in the dryer, put a load of clothes into the washer, ironed a shirt and secured a loose button

She picked up the game pieces left on the table, put the phone back on the charger and put the telephone book into the drawer.
She watered the plants, emptied a rubbish bin and hung up a towel to dry.

She yawned and stretched and headed for the bedroom. She stopped by the desk and wrote a note to the teacher, counted out some cash for an excursion, and pulled a text book out from hiding under the chair.

She signed a birthday card for a friend, addressed and stamped the envelope and wrote a quick note for the grocery store. She put both near her purse.

Mum then washed her face with 3 in 1 cleanser, put on her Night solution & age fighting moisturiser, brushed and flossed her teeth and filed her nails.

Dad called out, 'I thought you were going to bed.'

'I'm on my way,' she said.

She put some water into the dog's dish and put the cat outside, then made sure the doors were locked.

She looked in on each of the kids and turned out their bedside lamps and TV's, hung up a shirt, threw some dirty socks into the basket, and had a brief conversation with the one up still doing homework.

In her own room, she set the alarm; laid out clothing for the next day, straightened up the shoe rack. She added three things to her 6 most important things to do list. She said her prayers, and visualised the accomplishment of her goals.

About that time, Dad turned off the TV and announced to no one in particular. 'I'm going to bed.'

And he did...without another thought.

Anything extraordinary here? Wonder why women live longer...?

CAUSE WE ARE MADE FOR THE LONG HAUL...... (and we can't die sooner, we still have things to do!!!!)

So sad (:)

2008-05-10T05:20:00.000-07:00

Received this in an email

women: one engaged, one married, and one a mistress, are chatting about their relationships and decide to amaze their men....that night all three will wear a leather bodice S&M style, stilettos and a mask.

After a few days they meet again.....

The engaged girlfriend: " The other night, when my boyfriend came back home, he found me with the leather bodice, 3 inch stilettos and mask. He saw me he said: "you are the woman of my life, I love you"...then we made love all night long.

The mistress: " Ah! me too, the other night I met my lover in the office and I was wearing the leather bodice, mega stilettos, mask over my eyes and a raincoat, when I opened the raincoat... he did not say anything.....but we had wild sex all night .

The married one: " The other night I sent the kids to stay at my mothers for the night, I got myself ready: leather bodice, super stilettos and mask over my eyes....my husband comes back from work, opens the door and says ,

"Alright Batman? what's for dinner?"

Be warned - the ravaging effects of alcohol

2008-04-27T10:50:00.000-07:00

The Ravaging Effects of Alcohol- JUST SAY NO.

Effects of Alcohol

After 6 beers

After 2 glasses of wine

After 2 bottles of wine - Shared of course

After too many margaritas

After 3 Kamikazes

After 7 rum & cokes

After 1 large purple haze

After 3 martinis

After 1 bottle of tequila

If this gave a chuckle , pass it on to someone , you think loves animals too.

Next trip

2008-04-25T16:17:00.000-07:00

I have just realised that this time last year I was preparing to go to New York to embark on our months tour across America. Leaving New York on 1st May and finally ending up in California and flying home from Los Angeles. Is it really a year since we have had a holiday. So much has happened in that time - heart surgery for my other half, knee surgery for me and now carpel tunnel syndrome for him, which is being dealt with my a pioneering injection on Wednesday.

Now to holiday plans. Given that it now a year since we have had a recreational break, we are looking forward to two weeks in Canada. When I was in New York last year in February, with my mother, we asked her if there was anywhere that she would like to visit, given the chance before she is unable to take longs trips (she is 79), and she said Canada. Now we had assumed she meant Niagra Falls, but thought we had best check just in case she meant somewhere else. Having toured America, we realised that distances bore not relation to those in the UK, and if we got it wrong we could be many, many miles from where she wanted to be.

Anyway on checking with her we knew she meant Niagra Falls. Now having been there twice already, we are now thinking where else is good to visit around there. We have been to Toronto, up the CN tower. We have been to Huntsville and the Algonquin area (including seeing a Moose with her calf). We have done the Thousand Island Tour - so where else is there to go. We have stayed at Niagra Lakes (in the snow).

If someone has some advice, please let us know. We will certainly being doing Niagra Falls again (for the 3rd time), we will take Mum up the CN Tower and get her to walk on the glass floor (no mean feat for someone with vertigo) and we will do the Thousand Island Tour because where else would you get such spectacular views of the Islands - but what else? We are there for two weeks starting 7th June (yeh, I know, just in time for the things that bite me with dire consequences)

Mary

Mystery solved

2008-04-20T07:05:00.000-07:00

The week end before last I told you that we had to drive to Eastleigh to the top of a car park to meet my brother. Well all was revealed when we arrived, along with my three sisters, their partners and my mother.

My brother and his partner had decided to invite us all to one of those as much as you can eat Indian/Thai buffet meals.

So we all spent a pleasant afternoon eating until we were fit to burst - the occasion - they had been together for 7 years and wanting to celebrate this anniversary with their family. It was made all the more pleasant by the fact that my brother can be a bit of a loner and keeps his thoughts and feelings to himself, so such a public demonstration is out of character for him.

It was great to be with all my siblings (well one was missing, but that is another story) and to reminisce about the past and to catch up on what we are all doing now.

The Computer Swallowed Grandma

2008-04-16T23:43:00.000-07:00

I found this in a magazine that comes into my office from Alzheimers Society, it amused me, so I thought it might amuse others

The Computer Swallowed

The computer swallowed grandma

Yes, honestly it’s true

She pressed ‘control’ and ‘enter’

And disappeared from view

It devoured her completely

The thought just makes me squirm

She must have caught a virus

Or been eaten by a worm

I’ve searched through the recycle bin

And files of every kind

I’ve even use the internet

But nothing did I find

In desperation, I asked Jeeves

My searches to refine

The reply from him was negative

Not a thing was found ;online’

So, if inside your ‘Inbox’

My grandma you should see

Please ‘copy’, ‘scan’ and ‘paste’ her

And send her back to me

Unknown

Its snowing

2008-04-06T01:50:00.000-07:00

Well, I did not realise just how long it is since I last made a blog. I have been reading loads and trying to get down below the 500+ I always seem to have. AOL has been doing some odd things, so often the blogs will not load, so I have to save them until AOL decides it will let me read them.

Anyway after musing for a few days about what to write about, and having taken some lovely pictures last week end of our walk across the local common, what do we wake up to this morning - snow. Now snow is something we are not used to this far South, and when it happens is usually causes chaos and people do not turn up for work. Being Sunday that is not an issue, but I sure hope it does not freeze overnight as getting out of our close in those conditions is not an easy thing to do.

We are going to brave the roads in an hour or so, as we have to meet my brother and his partner at the top of a car park in Eastleigh - why? we have no idea, all that we know is that my three sisters, their partners and my Mum will be there as well.

So around 12 o'clock all will be revealed.

Apart from that there is not much else to report. My partner seems recovered from his open heart surgery having thrown himself back into work with a vengance. My knee continues to trouble me, apparently I am not building enough strength in it since the operation, but then I am battling with fibromyalgia, so that does not come as a surprise.

Must go and get ready for our mystery day out. Enjoy the photos.

Mary

New Year's Resolution

2008-01-20T09:51:00.000-08:00

Just received the following in an email from my friend, and thought I ought to share it for all of those of us who like the occasional glass of wine

I just read an article on the dangers of heavy drinking....Scared the cr*p out of me.
So that's it! - This year, no more reading.

This year started out with me managing to get a chest infection, which is still refusing to go completely away. Have still got a nasty cough.

The knee is improving slowly, although it reacted badly to a dose of sister shopping yesterday. I have three sisters and from time to time we meet up for a day of shopping and chatting. We hit the shops as they open for coffee, shop, have lunch, shop, have afternoon tea, shop and then generally get thrown out of shops as they are closing. I have to confess that yesterday we were all done by 2.00 as we had Mum with us as well, and if anything I am slower than her at the moment. We went to Salisbury, which is a lovely place and were lucky that the rain just drizzled so we did not get too wet. One of the few towns (oops cities) left that does not have an indoor shopping mall - thank goodness, I much prefer getting out into the street away from the heat of the shops and for a breath of fresh air.

http://www.enjoyengland.com/destinations/find/south-west/wiltshire/salisbury.aspx?SE=GGL&CAT=Main&KEY=Salisbury&MED=ST

Mary

Don't eat chicken

2008-01-10T09:47:00.000-08:00

This came to me in an email from my daughter today

Don't eat chicken sandwiches, no matter what.....

A little boy and a little girl attended the same school and became friends.
Every day they would sit together to eat their lunch. They discovered that
they both brought chicken sandwiches every day!
This went on all through the fourth and fifth grades, until one day he
noticed that her sandwich wasn't a chicken sandwich.
He said, "Hey, how come you're not eating chicken, don't you like it anymore?"
She said "I love it but I have to stop eating it."

"Why?" he asked.
She pointed to her lap and said
"Cause I'm starting to grow little feathers down there!"
"Let me see" he said.
"Okay" and she pulled up her skirt.
He looked and said, "That's right. You are!
Better not eat any more chicken."
He kept eating his chicken sandwiches until one day he brought peanutbutter.
He said to the little girl, "I have to stop eating chicken sandwiches,
I'm starting to get feathers down there too!"
She asked if she could look, so he pulled down his pants for her.

She said "Oh, my God, it's too late for you!
You've already got the neck and the GIBLETS

Happy New Year

2008-01-01T05:13:00.000-08:00

Follow this link

http://ecards.myfuncards.com/myfuncards/Holidays/NewYear/11956/MFC_top10_NewYears.jhtml

One could be forgiven for thinking it is Spring

2007-12-31T10:03:00.000-08:00

We went down to Devon on Saturday for a couple of days to visit M.I.L. - It was a bright and sunny day (after a horrendous night of rain and high winds) - with good views all the way down the M4/M5.

As we were travelling down I spied some sheep, well lots of them actually, but in one field there were three lambs, a single and twins, a bit early I should think but given the temperatures in these parts have been around 10 degrees Celsius recently, the sheep must have thought it was time to do their business.

On Sunday we drove from Exeter up to Dartmoor, again the weather was lovely. We stopped in a nice old pub, with peat fires for a Mulled Wine, and then onto Tavistock for a look around the town and a quick snack in a nice place called Cafe Liaison, where there was a musician. Mind you, I am not so sure I would like to live on Dartmoor - when we went into the pub the sun was shining and when we came out barely half hour later fog was coming down. Driving away from there, within 10 minutes we were in sunshine again. It was also nice not to have it get so dark so early, as it stays lighter later in those parts.

Today we came back home, and I have just had my knee reviewed. Healing slowing is the surgeon's opinion and I have to go back in four months.

Our Christmas

2007-12-26T12:00:00.000-08:00

Well as far as family stuff was concerned yesterday (Christmas Day was quiet) we spent it at home on our own, just the two of us - today (Boxing Day) has been a little more hectic as we visited one of our daughters, her husband and four children. Just taking them their presents made a great deal of room on our spare bed and when we see the other five grandchildren on Friday we may be able to have visitors again.

On the workside, I have had the privilege of being on call, and have been for the last month, to help relieve the problems that carers face when they cannot cope. This Christmas has been no different from others as we receive calls from those at the end of their tether, with no family or friends nearby to help out, so they have to contact our charity. It has been a exhausting few days for me, with 40 - 50 calls made either to us, or by me to track down carer support workers who can help out, and one lady admitted to residential care because her carer cannot get out of bed due to back spasms. Of course the statutory services are closed over the bank holidays, and emergency duty service in our area refers people to us if the carer needs someone to call on them to help them out, which is not a problem as that is what we are funded to do (so long as we do not have half our workforce sick like we did for the two weeks preceding Christmas).

Mind you, try explaining to others around you what is going on when the phone interrupts you for the umpteenth time in a day (and this morning even before my alarm went off).

Merry Christmas everyone

2007-12-25T05:07:00.000-08:00

Happy Christmas everyone

Caroling through J Land

2007-12-23T10:06:00.000-08:00

Here is a link to one of my all time favourites

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Env4WWg0Avs

I have visited

http://journals.aol.com/nightmaremom/Thisandthatandhockey/entries/2007/12/13/-caroling-through-j-land-/2686 and http://journals.aol.co.uk/kirkbyj05/DaytoDayLifeintheLakes/entries/2007/12/14/christmas-carolling-in-jland/376

Have a good Christmas

Mary

A dog called Whiskey

2007-12-09T14:30:00.000-08:00

This week end I have been working in the Isle of Wight, and at the B & B we were staying at we came across a dog called Whiskey - a terrier - and do you know what we discovered - he is the only dog known that has his own account at the Lifeboat Station. He has a fetish for tennis balls, and runs off way in front of his owners and help himself to one from the dispay. On the till is a piece of paper marked 'Whiskey's account' and they note the amount of balls he takes, for his owner to pay for when he finally catches up with him

My knee is sore

2007-11-26T06:44:00.000-08:00

A week on from my operation I am still having to use crutches, especially outside, I cannot drive and my knee aches like mad. I am seeing the physio tomorrow so maybe they can throw some light on when I am not better already

I know it is called being impatient. Apart from that I got to go Christmas shopping with my daughter today, a right pair we made, me on my crutches and her clutching bits of her stomach from her recent operation. We wandered slowly and sat down for a coffee half way through. Don't tell the boss, I told them I was working from home today - which I am, but not much between 9.00 am and 5.00 pm. I can remote access my computer at work, so have been updating files and filling in funding applications for the charity I work for. Suppose I had better get back to it.

Wanna play

2007-11-25T04:57:00.000-08:00

We don't get much of this in this country, but sure had some when we were living in New York at the beginning of the year, so I want to play as well

Thank you Bea http://journals.aol.com/bgilmore725/Wanderer/entries/2007/11/24/wishing-for-snow-this-year/2422

Knee operation

2007-11-23T07:57:00.001-08:00

Had operaton on Tuesday, and am now just about out of the anaesthetic fug - or the pain killer fug, or both. Have done an awful lot of sleeping - most of Tuesday after the op, all day Wednesday, half of yesterday and half of today, that includes sleeping at night as well. They were going to keep me in overnight, but as my blood pressure and sugar levels more or less behaved themselves I was back home by mid afternoon on Tuesday, after being the first on the operating list at 8.00 am.

They had a good rummage around and cleaned out lots of debris, they also scrapped off some bone that was growing where it should not have been. They cannot guarantee that I will be in any less pain than I was before, but they now know that I can get away with a partial knee replacement. Apparently your knee is in three sections, and I need the inner section replaced, although they want to leave it for as long as possible due to my tender years lol. I have a follow up appointment at the end of December and physio next week.

They have given me exercises to do, but most are still painful or difficult at the moment. I managed a few steps today without the crutches, and have done the stairs for a 2nd time - up to now once down I stay down until bedtime, but as my laptop would not connect to the internet, had to come up again. I think I will go down again for the evening.

My challenge now is to lose some weight - I read that 25% of replacement operations fail due to being overweight, which I most definately am, and the other is to exercise more to build up the knee so that it will be in better shape for the next operation.

Knee operation

2007-11-23T07:57:00.000-08:00

Spare time

2007-11-11T14:56:00.000-08:00

Even though I have had a lot going on around me, what with a sick husband, a daughter who needed an operation, and difficulty in walking for myself, I have still been working full time. I have a pretty stressful job, I often say if it was not for the clients, the staff and our funders I would have the perfect job.

So I needed something to do that would relax me and keep me out of mischief in my spare time. My mum attends an over 60s day centre and they have been collecting blankets for Croatia, so I have been crochetching blankets. This is something I did many years ago when money was tight and even before the girls were born. I managed to find my crochet hooks, lots of spare wool and off I went. You will see from my pictures just a sample of the ones I have completed. I just hope they do the job that is required and that the people they are destined for can make lots of use of them. I have some here that have been around for 30 years and with the exception of one minor repair are still going strong.

Latest update

2007-11-11T14:48:00.000-08:00

Bob has now returned to work during the last week. He is getting very tired by the end of the day, but the specialist says he is to take it easy and he will get stronger as he goes. They were pleased with the last scan of his heart, although they would like his blood pressure a little lower. We are monitoring that now and seeing the specialist again in six weeks.

My daughter has been in an out of hospital for the last three weeks for womens problems and an operation that developed complications. I am am taking her for a check up in the morning. I am having to take the grandchildren to school as she is not allowed to drive for six weeks, not to mention taking her shopping as she is beginning to panic about Christmas. With five kids to buy for it is hardly surprising.

I go into hospital next week for my knee operation (so long as they do not postpone it again), so after that we are hoping that we will all go into the new year more healthy than we are leaving this one.

Oops Bad Hair Dye Day

2007-11-11T10:43:00.000-08:00

Well I did not sleep well last night, so decided to get up bright and early and deal with the grey hair. I had bought a new colour as I have been unable to get the one I usually buy. It looked much the same, so imagine my shock when I turned red, instead of dark blonde.

Bob says that if I hide in amongst beech trees, which are in full autumn colours I will be well camouflaged

My Halloween Personality

2007-10-17T15:40:00.000-07:00

Pinched from

http://journals.aol.com/malagutigrrl/FromtheEdgeofDementia/entries/2007/10/17/my-halloween-personality/4524

The scariest thing on Halloween is you! You definitely don't want any kids in costumes crossing your path - and you're willing to scare away any who do.

You definitely think of yourself as someone who has a dark side. And part of having that dark side means not showing it.

Your inner child is bittersweet, thoughtful, and never too greedy.

You truly fear the dark side of humanity. You are a true misanthrope.

You're logical, rational, and not easily effected. Not a lot scares you... especially when it comes to the paranormal.

You are picky and high maintenance. If you wear a Halloween costume, it's only when you really feel like it. And it has to be perfect.

Update on My Knee

2007-10-17T15:12:00.000-07:00

For some reason my surgery has been cancelled for 30th October (which had already become 31st October), so am now scheduled for 20th November. I am feeling a bit fed up as I had made all my arrangements, had managed to get the other half to agree to get a extra two weeks off sick to help me out, and now everything has gone pear shape. So much for private medical insurance and things being done at your convenience!!

Sent to me in an email today

2007-10-17T15:07:00.000-07:00

The Why's of Men

WHY DO MEN BECOME SMARTER DURING SEX?

(because they are plugged into a genius)

2. WHY DON'T WOMEN BLINK DURING SEX?

(they don't have enough time)

WHY DOES IT TAKE 1 MILLION SPERM TO FERTILIZE ONE EGG?

(they don't stop to ask directions)

WHY DO MEN SNORE WHEN THEY LIE ON THEIR BACKS?

(because their balls fall over their butt-hole and they vapor lock)

(You're laughing, aren't you?!?!)

WHY WERE MEN GIVEN LARGER BRAINS THAN DOGS?

(so they won't hump women's legs at cocktails parties)

WHY DID GOD MAKE MEN BEFORE WOMEN?

(you need a rough draft before you make a final copy)

HOW MANY MEN DOES IT TAKE TO PUT A TOILET SEAT DOWN?

(don't know.....it never happened)

( C'mon guys, we laugh at your blonde jokes!)

And the personal favorite:

WHY DID GOD PUT MEN ON EARTH?

(because a vibrator can't mow the lawn)

Remember, if you haven't got a smile on your face and laughter in your
heart...Then you are just an old sour fart!

One for the ladies

One day my housework-challenged husband decided to wash his Sweat-shirt
Seconds after he stepped into the laundry room, he shouted to me, "What
setting do I use on the washing machine?"
"It depends," I replied. "What does it say on your shirt?"
He yelled back, "University of Oklahoma."

And they say blondes are dumb...
-----------------------------------------------
A couple is lying in bed. The man says,
"I am going to make you the happiest woman in the world."
The woman replies, "I'll miss you..."

-----------------------------------------------------------

"It's just too hot to wear clothes today," Jack says as he stepped out of
the shower, "honey, what do you think the neighbors would think if I mowed
the lawn like this?"
"Probably that I married you for your money," she replied.

-----------------------------------------------

Q: What do you call an intelligent, good looking, sensitive man?
A: A rumor

-----------------------------------------------------------

Dear Lord,
I pray for Wisdom to understand my man; Love to forgive him; And Patience
for his moods. Because, Lord, if I pray for Strength, I'll beat him to
death.
AMEN

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Q: Why do little boys whine?
A: They are practicing to be men.
-----------------------------------------------

Q: What does it mean when a man is in your bed gasping for breath and
calling your name?
A: You did not hold the pillow down long enough.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Q: How do you keep your husband from reading your e-mail?
A: Rename the mail folder "Instruction Manual."

My knee

2007-10-10T16:13:00.000-07:00

Well had my appointment with the specialist today and it appears that I have two main options. An arthriscopy proceedure (key hole surgery, a good look around, a wash out and repair damaged ligaments), or a full knee replacement. The specialist suggested the first, as he says he is an engineer and would like to know what he is dealing with for future reference. He reckons it will give me a few months relief and then he may have to go for the full knee replacement. He reckons I am too young at 57 for that (asked for a letter to show my grandkids who all reckon I am old lol).

There was a 3rd option which was to do nothing, but given the fact that I am having difficulty sleeping because of the pain, cannot walk any distance, cannot bend my leg due to the swelling, that did not seem sensible, so I am going for the more minor procedure, hopefully on the 30th of this month.

Of course it has coincided with Bob going back to work after his heart op and my closest daughter will be recovering from a bladder operation, so somehow I am going to have to cope on my own, but thinking about it -what's new.

My Dream Home

2007-10-02T16:34:00.000-07:00

Pinched from malagutigrrl - From the Edge of Dementia http://journals.aol.com/malagutigrrl/FromtheEdgeofDementia/entries/2007/10/01/my-dream-home/4404

I wish

Your home is a Magic Magnate's Manor

Your kitchen is someplace you never go, because you "have people for that." There's a Chocolatessen, which is rapidly becoming your favorite room of the house. Having one is also becoming a trend among your wealthy neighbors. Your master bedroom is the size of a small barn, with carpet thick enough to reach your ankles. Your study has hardback editions of every classic ever written, plus a special edition of Rich Dad, Poor Dad with the parts you ghost-authored highlighted. One of your garages holds your collection of ferraris, and is measured in acreage.

Your home also includes a guest wing and private quarters for your servants. Outside is your hedge maze and gardens, meticulously tended by a team of world-class botanists.

Below is a snippet of the blueprints:

Update on Bob

2007-09-28T14:48:00.000-07:00

Went to see the surgeon this week who gave Bob a clean bill of health. He said he just had to look at him to see that he was so much better since the heart surgery. He was told he could return to work at anytime, but I jumped in to tell the surgeon that he had a 2 hour commute on the train at both ends of the day, and had to carry a heavy rucksack fill of computer, files etc. To which the surgeon said he has to stay of till November, he is entitled to 12 weeks sick leave and the surgeon told him to make the most of it.

I have my specialist appointment the week after next, so it is looking like I will get my surgery just after he goes back to work, so who is going to look after me.

Give this a go

2007-09-28T14:44:00.000-07:00

This will boggle your mind... Take your time and follow the instructions. It's very clever!!!
After reading each window, click on the boy in the lower right corner. In the last window, type in your numbers in the white box using the keyboard. You will be amazed....and
No, I don't know how it's done, but The answer appears on the boy's t-shirt.
click here: http://digicc.com/fido/

Over 55?

2007-09-23T04:26:00.000-07:00

Another one for sharing

PERKS OF BEING 55 & OVER

1. Kidnappers are not very interested in you.

2. In a hostage situation you are likely to be released first.

3. People no longer view you as a hypochondriac.

4. There is nothing left to learn the hard way.

5. You can live without sex but not your glasses.

6. You get into heated arguments about pension plans.

7. You no longer think of speed limits as challenge.

8. You quit trying to hold your stomach in no matter who

walks into the room.

9. You sing along with elevator music.

10. Your investment in health insurance is finally beginning to pay off.

11. Your joints are more accurate meteorologists than the

national weather service.

12. Your secrets are safe with your friends because they can't

remember them either.

Sisters

2007-09-23T03:57:00.000-07:00

This was sent to me in an email today and I thought I would share it

A young wife sat on a sofa on a hot humid day, drinking iced tea and visiting with her Mother. As they talked about life,about marriage, about the responsibilities of life and the obligations ofadulthood, the mother clinked the ice cubes in her glass thoughtfully and turned a clear, sober glance upon her daughter. "Don't forget your Sisters," she advised, swirling the tea leaves to the bottom of her glass. "They'll be more important as you get older. No matter how much you love your husband, no matter how much you love the children you may have, you are still going to need Sisters. Remember to go places with them now and then; do things with them." "Remember that 'Sisters' means ALL the women...your girlfriends, your daughters, and all your otherwomen relatives too. "You'll need other women. Women always do. "What a funny piece of advice!' the young woman thought. Haven't I just gotten married? Haven't I just joined the couple-world? I'm now a married woman, for goodness sake! A grown up! Surely my husband and the family we may start will be all Ineed to make my life worthwhile!'But she listened to her Mother. She kept contact with her Sisters and made more women friends each year. As the years tumbled by, one after another,she gradually came to understand that her Mom really knew what she was talking about. As time and nature work their changes and their mysteries upon a woman,Sisters are the mainstays of her life.

After more than 40 years of living in this world, here is what I've learned:

THIS SAYS IT ALL:

Time passes. Life happens. Distance separates. Children grow up. Jobs come and go. Love waxes and wanes. Men don't do what they're supposed to do. Hearts break. Parents die. Colleagues forget favors. Careers end.

BUT.........

Sisters are there, no matter how much time and how many miles are between you. A girl friend is never farther away than needing her can reach. When you have to walk that lonesome valley and you have to walk it by yourself, the women in your life will be on the valley's rim, cheering you on, praying for you, pulling for you, intervening on your behalf, and waiting with open arms at the valley's end. Sometimes, they will even break the rules and walk beside you...Or come in and carry you out. Girlfriends, daughters, granddaughters, daughters-in-law, sisters, sisters-in-law, Mothers, Grandmothers, aunties, nieces, cousins, and extended family, all bless our life!

The world wouldn't be the same without women, and neither would I. When we began this adventure called womanhood, we had no idea of the incredible joys or sorrows that lay ahead. Nor did we know how much we would need each other. Every day, we need each other still. Pass this on to all the women who help make your life meaningful I just did. Short and very sweet:

There are more than twenty angels in this world. Ten are peacefully sleeping on clouds. Nine are playing. And one is reading her email at this moment.

Can you spare me?

2007-09-17T16:12:00.000-07:00

Part of my job role at the charity I manage is to raise funds - these fund go towards giving carers/care givers breaks, so that they can take 'time off' from their caring roles.

I am toying the idea of putting together a booklet, or series of booklets

recipes

tips and hints

poetry/short stories

and as I want this to be original stuff and not something I have pinched from books or magazines, I was wondering if anyone would like to make a charitable contribution - with your name attributed (if you so wish) and country of origin

Once I have got enough stuff together, the booklets would be sold for funds. I could even make them available here if people wanted.

I have to tell you that I have these mad, creative ideas from time to time

To start off I will share with you a recipe for soup that was given to me today - have not tried it yet, but will tomorrow as I have just found some courgettes lurking in the fridge.

Courgette/Zucchini soup

Boil 4 courgettes/zucchini in chicken stock (a stock cube is ok, if you do not have the real thing), with a tablespoon of curry powder. Use enough liquid to cover the courgettes/zucchi

When courgettes are soft, wizz together in a blender (add more water if required to get the consistency you require) - reheat if necessary

Put in some Philadelphia cheese

It is now ready to serve.

I understand that it can be eaten hot or cold.

Lazy day on the river 4

2007-09-15T15:17:00.000-07:00

At last I have found how to upload more that 8 pictures at a time, so this is the last of the ones I took on our canal trip.

Part of my task when we have these outings is to provide lunch for people. This year I decided to have jacket potatoes, so at 7.30 am in the morning I had potatoes in the microwave to part cook them through, and then they could go into the oven on the boat to brown and crisp them. For fillings we had cheese, tuna/mayonnaise, coleslaw and beans, with side salad of lettuce, cucumber and tomato. They had started with melon wedges and finished with a variety of cheesecakes. All washed down with a variety of fruit juices.

No sooner had the washing up party finished their duties after lunch, then it was time for afternoon tea and even more biscuits (as I had forgotten to buy cakes for the afternoon).

The sun came out during the day but it never got too hot, although some of us showed evidence of the sun rays (even through cloud) having pinked up our skin. I am one of those unfortunate people who go red, blister and then revert to being pale skinned.

As we had been held up at the first lock our journey had been delayed, with further delays being caused by the horse drawn barges, so to our delight we ended up spending two additional hours on the canal, meaning everyone finally went home happy and tired.

Now that I have managed to work out how to get pictures here I will start to go back through our adventures in our 'Grand Tour of America' and start to post pictures for you all to see.

Lazy day on the river 3

2007-09-15T15:01:00.000-07:00

Along the Kennet and Avon Canal they also have horse drawn barges, left over from bygone days. We passed many of these and were glad to see something from a bygone era. Although picturesque this mode of transport can be fraught with dangers for passengers of other passing barges. At the time I was at the back of the boat talking to the crew when they yelled 'duck'. Duly crouching down quickly I was then somewhat surprised to get a hearty thwack across the backside as the mooring rope from the horse drawn barge was thrown over our boat and it caught me stern side, meaning I spent the next hour or so trying to drying our my nether regions

much to the delight of the other passengers on board.

Lazy Day on the River 2

2007-09-15T11:39:00.000-07:00

These pictures show us in one of the locks, where the water levels are being changed as we were going uphill on this journey.

We were in danger of not being able to make the trip as at the first lock workmen were trying to fix the gate where it had dropped off of its hinges. For the participants of the trip it was a good time to relax, enjoy their morning coffee and chat.

Lazy Day on the River

2007-09-15T03:50:00.000-07:00

One of the great things about my job is that I get to laze on the river from time to time. We have not had much of a summer, but Wednesday 5th September was a morning of promise that did not fail to let us down for the whole day.

I run various clubs for people with disabilities and spend quite a lot of time with these particular club members. As well us having problems in common with mobility, they are a fun group and each year organise a trip for us all on the Kennet and Avon Canal. This year I also took my other half, using the rational that he was recurperating from his op, so met the trips criteria. The truth was that I just did not want to leave him all day, and this trip is so lovely that I did not want him to miss out.

So 16 of us set out at 10.00 am in the morning, and my first job of the day (after all the shopping) was to make sure everyone was settled with morning tea/coffee and a good supply of biscuits. This trip is never very diabetic friendly, although all those who are diabetic assure me that they will be good the next day. The boat that we us is hired by the local Lions club for a week and is fully adapted for people with disabilities. The take one charitable group per day out, with the crew members giving up time from work take the boat through the locks.

The highlight for most people is travelling through the locks, some of which you can see from the photos and I will put the rest on a bit later - for some reason I could only put 8 on at a time?

As you can see the day was gorgeous - not too hot, but plenty of sunshine. What I love is the reflections into the water. I am not sure how I got this photo effect and I am impressed by the fact it looks as though the river is moving, like a movie, rather than still photos.

More to come

My knee

2007-09-14T15:49:00.000-07:00

Well, I saw my GP about my knee and the Xrays show severe wear and tear, with a couple of bits of broken off ligament floating around, but as I am so young (57) he feels that it needs to be left for a while before they do anything.

Obviously I was not happy with this, so I am seeing the specialist in a couple of weeks and they are going to see if they can remove the couple of bits of broken off ligament in the back of my knee, which is probably the reason I am in so much pain.

A love story

2007-09-14T15:44:00.000-07:00

The Love Story of Ralph and Edna.
>
> Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to,doesn't

> mean they don't love you with all they have.
>
> Ralph and Edna were both patients in a mental hospital. One day while
> they were walking past the hospital swimming pool, Ralph suddenly
jumped
> into the deep end. He sank to the bottom of the pool and stayed there.
>
> Edna promptly jumped in to save him. She swam to the bottom and pulled

> him out.
>
> When the Head Nurse Director became aware of Edna's heroic act she
> immediately ordered her to be discharged from the hospital, as she now

> considered her to be mentally stable.
>
> When she went to tell Edna the news she said, "Edna, I have good news
> and bad news. The good news is you're being discharged, since you were

> able to rationally respond to a crisis by jumping in and saving the
life
> of the person you love. I have concluded that your act displays sound
> mindedness.
>
> The bad news is, Ralph, hung himself in the bathroom with his bathrobe

> belt right after you saved him. I am so sorry, but he's dead."
>
> Edna replied, "He didn't hang himself, I put him there to dry.
>
> How soon can I go home?"

Nordic Walking Poles

2007-09-10T23:52:00.000-07:00

Nordic walking poles are a bit like ski poles. Usually used in pairs, they are used for walking. There was a certain amount of hype about them a while back as they are reputed to give you quite a good work out when walking as they also exercise the upper body.

I have to confess that I wanted them more to avoid using a walking stick or my crutches, as I needed something that helped me keep my balance whilst walking as my knee is prone to give out and send me tumbling over - not a pretty sight as I end up looking like a beached whale.

I have not taken them for a test drive yet, so will report back when I do.

For those who want to know what they look like, follow the link to the website I found. If you want to try them out you can get them from Argos for £14.99 or the deluxe ones for £19.99 - and then if they work I may invest in more expensive ones.

http://www.sheactive.co.uk/brand.html?supplier=00000066&type=brand&gclid=CMrNnuLmuo4CFQSlEAodrAMnyg

Latest update

2007-09-09T02:59:00.000-07:00

Bob is doing well, and just beginning to get a bit aggitated at not being able to do all the things he would like to do. Patience is what I tell him, he has to be careful until he goes back to work in November, so we are only half way there on his road to recovery.

Today we are going out for lunch as it is my birthday, and he is taking me to a sports shop to investigage some Nordic walking sticks. The problems with my leg needs an operation on the knee, so it is difficult to walk at present, and as I am supposed to be ensuring that he walks for half hour everyday we have to find a way of doing that without me suffering too much, and by all accounts these sticks could be the answer.

Later we will be seeing all the grandchildren - we have 9 of them still living at home with their parents, so they will all call sometime today

What's new

2007-08-30T10:04:00.000-07:00

It has now been almost a month since Bob's operation and he is doing well. Fortunately he is pretty much a lazy, laid back person, so having to do not a lot for a few months is not a problem to him. What with his reading, computer, internet chess and the cricket he is keeping himself amused, and I am now able to leave him for a couple of hours at a time to pop into work. The worst is no wine, as they cannot get his Warfarin levels stabalised at present, they shot up far to high, and as booze also thins the blood we cannot risk him bleeding to death.

Mind you this internet is a wonderful thing as I have been able to work from home, and along with my mobile phone no one really knows that I am not in the office (apart from the office staff of course).

All the running around after Bob has caused my fibromyalgia to flare up, and also a knee problem (had Xrays yesterday to see if there is more wear and tear since the last Xray about 5 years ago). The pain killers do not help, they just make me whoozy which I hate.

We are supposed to up Bob's exercise by walking more, but at the moment when we are out he races ahead of me, and anyone seeing us would think he is looking after me as I creep up behind with my walking stick.

I have just started a college course on diet and nutrition, so had better get back to starting the assignment I came up to my office an hour ago to do.

Home now

2007-08-11T06:09:00.000-07:00

It is now 10 days since Bob's operation and he is doing really well. The Doctor's were pleased with how the operation went and how quickly he became mobile again. Due to the nature of his medical condition he had to have a mechanical valve fitted, so we are attending blood clinics alternative days so that they can get his Warfarin levels right. He has been home now since Wednesday evening and as luck would have it the Test Match is on, so he is being kept quiet and occupied watching England V India (not that England are doing so well, but the cricket is still good).

He now has to be patient as the recovery period is slowish, and he is not allowed back to work until November.

Just over 2 days to go

2007-07-30T14:51:00.000-07:00

We now have just about 2 days to go before the op. We are due into hospital on 1st August, for the op on 2nd. Bob is really quite tired now, although he will not admit it. Me, I am worried, stressed and in the middle of a major fibromyalgia flare up. My physio says it is all to do with stress, so lets hope that goes away after Thursday, because I need to be fit and well to look after him, when he comes out of hospital

Mary

Our new journey

2007-07-17T14:44:00.000-07:00

We are now about the embark on a new jounrey in our life. When Bob was in America for his secondment he came home at Christmas and was seen by a heart surgeon. We were led to believe, that although he had a heart problem we had a lot of time to deal with it. When we got back we saw the specialist, and today saw the surgeon. Without a valve replacement he has less than 2 years to live, so we are going ahead with an op on 2nd August to replace his faulty valve. He has ankoylising spondalytis, which has caused the valve to misfunction. We knew this could happen, but have not been prepared for it to happen at 52. I am not sure how I am feeling at present. Given the job that I do, I only see the cases that go wrong, so it is hard to feel positive. Luckily he is feeling that all will be well after 2nd August

Our journal

2007-06-06T16:11:00.000-07:00

This journal has been written by both of us during our journeys. Generally one of us has written it and then the other one has proof read it. Therefore, from time to time it appears that it has only been written by one of us.

What next, well for a start we are going to go through our entries, add pictures and then print the whole lot out into book format.

I am the an the manager of a charity with responsibility for fundraising, so I am thinking at the moment that I may offer the blog for sale for £5.00 - £7.50 to raise funds for the work that we do and to cover the cost of printing.

Now that I have found out how much I enjoy writing the blog, as opposed to just lurking in journals and making the odd comments, I shall have to think about what next to do.

I hope you enjoyed this. I suspect our next travelog will be a few months away, although when I review my pictures of my 5 stays in New York whilst Bob has been on seconment I may start to make some comments

Mary

Last 4 days

2007-06-06T16:05:00.000-07:00

Tuesday 5th June 2007

Back to reality with a bump… I write this in my armchair at home, my laptop on my lap, plugged into the wall via my work
laptop’s power cable. The attempt to power it via its own cable and a shaver adaptor failed on account of a broken 3 amp fuse, given that the AC/DC adaptor puts out 5 amps. Oh well, c’est la vie.

We left you in suspense at the end of Part 13, in a scene of domestic bliss and the promise of mischief to come…. Can I
now remember what followed?

Bill, Olivia and Dylan arrived back from Santa Rosa in the late afternoon and we shared the task of emptying the car of
Dylan’s things into the middle of the garage floor. Dylan then announced that he was going to get a haircut, sounding
just like my father when he explained that he couldn’t bear it when his hair started to tickle his ears, so Mary told me to accompany him to get mine cut as well, a minor personal chore she had been nagging me about since the trip began, on the grounds that I didn’t want a white hairline when I went back to work. So Dylan drove us to Nick’s Barber Shop, where Nick promptly reduced his bushy bonce to a short back and sides and his colleague applied a lighter touch to my slightly less unruly locks. I have to admit I did look smarter thereafter. On the way to the barber, I was amused that Dylan wore his baseball cap and covered it up with his hoodie as we drove the short distance to the barber. On the way back, his new haircut was on proud display. How times have changed… In my day, I’d have been proud of the long hair and ashamed of the newly shorn look.

The evening was time for Bill and Colleen’s Saturday night out, so Mary and I accompanied them to an unpretentious restaurant in downtown Paso Robles, where we had a pleasant meal (I had pasta in garlic, oil and olives, Mary had … Colleen had Prime Rib and Bill had a Turkey and Cheese Melt). Mary and I washed ours down with a bottle of local red and Bill had a non-alcoholic beer, as he has foresworn the booze these last two years.

Then we took a stroll along the sidewalk to a chocolaterie, where Bill bought vast supplies of dark chocolate, which he
nibbled for the rest of the evening, and thence an ice creamerie, whence we wandered across the main square, which was inhabited by vintage car enthusiasts and their cars, being entertained by an excellent C&W band. The cars were mostly
1950s and 1960s models, my favourites being the Chevrolet Impalas with their absurdly wide rear wings, of which I’d had
Corgi models when I was a boy. They were in various stages of loving restoration, many being decorated on site with “pinstriping”: fine whirling patterns along the bodywork. This felt like the authentic American Experience, as we passed, licking our ice-creams and chocolae, through the contented crowds with their picnics, beer cans and cokes, politely applauding the snappy guitar work and humorous between songs patter, even though they were sat wrapped in blankets. We Brits, of course, think all weather over 60 degrees is hot ?

Then we had a long interlude in the video store, where we eventually plumped for a film I’d never heard of, called The
Songcatcher, about a folk musicologist, recently passed over for promotion to professor, visiting her schoolteacher sister up in the Appalachian Mountains, where she discovers these naturally gifted singers with their pristine versions of old English, Irish and Scottish folksongs, passed down orally through generations of singers. She determines to
record them on paper and on Edison phonograph cylinders but all her work goes up in smoke when two yokels take objection
to her sister’s lesbian relationship with a fellow teacher and set fire to the schoolhouse. She eventually falls in love herself with one of the rough-hewn locals and they ride off into the sunset to make their fortune as popular entertainers. The whole film was excellent: music and singing excellent of their type, casting new light for me on such classics as Matty Groves and other songs revived by Fairport Convention, acting and screenplay strong, settings picturesque.

Sunday, we set off on a trip of indeterminate length up the Big Sur coast: indeterminate because we didn’t know whether
we would stay away overnight or return. As it was, the weather at Monterey was so miserably foggy and cold that we decided to come home to Paso Robles that night. When we got in, it was clear that Maura, the elder daughter, was back from her hiking trip in Zion, as her hiking gear had been dumped unceremoniously in her bedroom, which Mary and I had been using in her absence. But I run ahead of myself again.

Our route to the coast took us along California Route 46, through the pretty coastal hills, to Cambria, where we joined
Route 1, heading north along the coast. As it was lunchtime, we took an early diversion along a coastal access road and
drew into a restaurant’s car park but could find no parking space and, reasoning that service would be too slow in such a packed place, with bikers arriving by the dozen, we abandoned that attempt to get fed and watered. Shortly after, we stopped at Hearst Castle, recommended by Bill and Colleen as a good place to spend a couple of hours, in the nearest thing that California has to a Stately Home. It being a public holiday weekend, that officially announces the beginning of summer, it too was packed; and we quailed at the thought of joining one of the conducted tours (of which there are four routes) and of queuing to be served in the canteen, which was offering the usual fare of burgers, pizzas, fries and salads. Again we fled the crowds and setoff once more up the coastal road, which soon offered a much more interesting diversion: a beach where elephant seals basked and fought. We spent a while in the company of other watchers, entertained by two bull seals bashing each other repeatedly as they lollopped about in the breakers. Only David Attenborough was absent …It was just like on the telly. There was plenty of other activity as well, with some seals making beelines for the sea, some struggling to get out of the way, others flicking sand over themselves, others barking their challenges generally to anyone who would listen, not to mention the one that managed to nose dive into the sand
and spent the next few minutes trying to blow the sand out of its nose.

Onwards and up the cliffs we went, as we followed the coastal road, with its dramatic sweeps round headlands, through
cuttings and round bays or across elegant bridges. A bank of clouds hovered over the sea, about a mile offshore. Otherwise the weather was fine and warm, with a cool sea breeze. We made several stops for views and wildlife observation, which included fights between seagulls and ground squirrels over the scraps that tourists were encouraging them with. Of course, we came across no more eating places until we got to Big Sur itself, a scattered village amid a redwood forest, just inland from the cliffs. The Henry Miller library, of which Bill had advised me, especially on noting that I was reading Miller’s “The Colossus of Maroussi”, was, unfortunately closed, but there was a notice that there was a concert between 2 and 6pm. As it was now gone 4pm and we still hadn’t eaten (not to mention there was nowhere to park, even if we had wanted to avail ourselves of the music) we were not to be distracted by that but made a
ew more fruitless stops at roadside restaurants and, in one case, up a hill to a promised Ocean View. In each case the
restaurant was shut for the afternoon. By now, the weather was closing in and getting cooler; but as we came to Carmel,
we spotted a typical out of town shopping centre with diners galore and chose the Black Bear Diner, where I allowed my
eyes to inform my appetite and went for “Bob’s Big Bear Burger”: a ¾ lb beef burger in an enormous bun, complete with
all the trimmings. Mary took a photo of it when it arrived on the table. In the photo, it makes even my stomach look small. I managed to eat it all though, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Mary had a more modest “Young Bob’s Burger”.

Refuelled and ready for the fray, we then drove on to Monterey, where the weather had really closed in. We took a quick
look at the beach but didn’t much fancy it and stopped in a Starbucks, principally to recharge my phone so that I could
advise Bill that we were returning that evening, but where we also indulged in a coffee and a cake. The phone charged
OK but when I tried dialing Bill, I got a message stating that the number as dialed was not obtainable. It transpired
hat when I stored it, I missed off the final digit. Ho hum. Nevertheless, we decided to head back to Paso Robles
anyway, and took the local road east towards Salinas, where we picked up the 101 and headed south down the freeway, arriving at Paso Robles to an empty house, albeit with plentiful signs of recent habitation, such as Maura’s gear and lights on all over the place. Mary also advised me that her migraine had finally gone. Somewhat alarmingly, it had lasted all of the day, which is unusual.

We weren’t home long before they all turned up and another pleasant evening was passed, regaling them with the tale of
our adventures, listening to music and watching the TV. Bill has a good supply of Bill Maher Shows on DVD, which kept us amused at nights. Bill Maher is a comedian of left wing tendencies, though some strikingly conservative views on such things as corporal punishment, if his jokes are anything to go by. He has some good swipes at George Bush and the Iraq war and gets some uncomfortable victims to be the butts of his jokes, defending the indefensible. We both enjoyed these shows, which were strikingly intelligent and daring for American TV.

Monday was the Memorial Day public holiday, on which we followed Bill’s advice and explored the local hills, following a route through the vineyards towards Morro Bay, which is dominated by a Gibraltar-like rock. The semblance is in its domination of the local scenery and its general shape rather than its size, which is a bit pathetic in comparison, but it was a pleasant site and we enjoyed a lunchtime breakfast in a homely café and a stroll alongthe harbour front, past various restaurants and fishing boats, not to mention indulging Mary’s shopping tendencies inthe local gift shop. On the way back, we followed Route 1 South to San Luis Obispo, past the Seven Sisters, extinctvolcanoes that line the route. As we approached Paso Robles, Mary mentioned that she wanted to visit a dollar shop toget some hair bands but as usual I ignored her and drove straight back to Bill’s place.

When we got in, we were greeted by a starving Mr Bill and his three kids, who were all desperately awaiting our arrival,
as we had promised to take them out for a thank you meal. Colleen couldn’t join us as she was manning a soup kitchen in
town, but we got her a take-out (or meal to go as they call them). We ate at Cool Hand Luke’s, another steak joint, where I had a juicy rib-eye steak with garlic and mushrooms. Unfortunately, this steak fought back later in the evening, making me bloated and unpleasant to be around … Bill, it transpired, was more a gentleman than he would probably like to be thought of as, and took Mary to the Dollar Shop, which had closed early for Memorial Day, so we ended up in Target, walking around with a Starbucks and investigating their stock of CDs. Mary made me ashamed by purchasing a set of 3 Andrew Lloyd Webber Musicals CDs, fine punishment for continually ignoring her wishes. Back home, Bill and I had a good chat about music and life in general. Mary spent the evening burning CDs, either mine for Bill, or ones that Bill had for sale, but couldnot part with when push came to shove.

That was our last day in Paso Robles. We left at about 12:30, during Bill’s lunch hour, which he enlivened by bringing us some super tacos from the local Mexican takeway, “the one the real Mexicans use”. Bill gave me a mighty hug as he left, though he denied that it was a bear hug: he’d been especially gentle in view of my back problem. I’d hate to get a real bear hug! Mary got a nice man sized hug.

We then followed the advised route south to Santa Barbara, leaving the 101 whenever we could to follow the slower but
more interesting Route 1, which meanders through farmland and towns along the way. Santa Barbara itself was the highlight of this journey, a delightfully pretty little town, the first really picturesque town we’d seen since Jackson Hole. Here we got the last room available in the Days Inn and visited the local Mission, one of 27 between San Diego and San Francisco, that are connected by ye olde El Camino Real Historic Route. This was surrounded by chalk paintings done over the weekend by various locals, sponsored by worthy local businesses. Mary took lots of pictures of these; then we explored the Mission itself. Having missed the guided tours, we were able to make a small donation to a monk and guide ourselves through the museum, watch a brief video about the history of the place and walk through the peaceful cemetery. The Mission lived up to its billing, Bill and other locals having advised us to visit various Missions up and down the coast during our stay – but this was the first and only one we managed.

We completed our visit to Santa Barbara in style by dining at the first restaurant we found on the seafront, an Italian restaurant with fine wine and food. I had halibut, Mary had salmon, washed down with an excellent Californian Pinot
Noir, and followed by “G and G” for Mary and a wonderful peaty Talisker for me. It reminded me of Bowmore and Laphroaig
(whose name escaped me at the time), the two Islay malts with which I’m more familiar. This was a more than worthy substitute for the Sambuca that I had originally chosen but was unavailable, as was Mary’s first choice. So we left, satisfied and mellow and slept well.

In the morning, after a wholesale rearrangement of the contents of all our cases, we set off for the airport, taking the
freeway to Los Angeles (a scary manic road of 5 lanes on each carriageway and suicidal drivers, not to mention the truck with bins on its back - one flew off and hit the car behind it, causing her to swerve and only just miss us– Bill did warn us), where Connie eventually delivered us to a roundabout under a flyover, within shouting distance of the Budget Rental garage but by no means at it. “Thank you for choosing Budget” she said politely and irrelevantly, as we then found our own way there by following the road signs. Shocked at the size of the bill, and noting that it didn’t add up, I queried it and got $1,000 taken off it, with a rather graceless piece of advice that next time I should make sure I understand what I’m signing before I sign it…. They also tried to claim that they had not heard of Triprewards (that we had been collecting at participating motels and which were supposed to be supported by Budget). The shuttle bus driver dropped us off at our terminal and demanded a tip, which I suppose was par for the course, but why I should have tipped
her for doing her job I don’t know. Well, I gave her a tenner and on we went into the terminal, where a very helpful West Indian check in lady tried to save us an excess baggage charge by advising us how to redistribute our belongings among our luggage; but eventually we gave up and agreed to the $100 excess baggage fee: hardly a surprise given we had 7 months of accumulated belongings with us, despite Mary’s previous Herculean efforts on previous visits to take back two cases full of CDs, books and no-longer-needed items of clothing.

The 10.5 hour flight was alleviated by Air New Zealand’s excellent entertainment system, which supplied movies on demand and, apart from crashing once, necessitating rather a long reboot process, was very reliable. I watched The Number 23, starring Jim Carrey in a serious, if somewhat demented, role and Blood Diamond, starring Leonardo di Caprio as a cynical Rhodesian mercenary in Sierra Leone, who dies while trying to get away with a big pink diamond, previously found and
hidden by the one decent person in the whole film, a Sierra Leonian whose sole concern throughout the film is to reunite
his war-torn family. My thanks to Victor Eckstein, one of the partners in New York, for recommending this film, shocking and gruesome though it is in places: one of those films for which the cliché “searing” was invented. I’d also observed someone watching Black Snake Moan on their set but I couldn’t find it on my system, so then watched Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore in the predictable but vaguely amusing and diverting musical comedy “Music and Lyrics”. Mary watched The Johnny Cash Story and a couple of less memorable but enjoyable films.

The food on the plane wasn’t bad either, and all in all, 10.5 hours went quite painlessly. We arrived at Heathrow slightly early and were delighted to be able to collect all our bags from the carousel before it had even been announced and even more delighted to be met by our chauffeur, daughter Sara, who delivered us at our doorstep an hour or so later.

We managed to hold off going to bed till about midnight and then slept till 5:00pm on Friday afternoon, when we got up
and went around to Sara’s for an Indian takeaway that we’d promised her and Tony.

Saturday we mostly did unpacking and odds and sods, then went to see a ballet at the Arlington Arts Centre in Mary Hare
School for the Deaf. This was the first fruit of a resolution I made in New York to take Mary out to more shows and
things. I’d responded to a flyer from the RSA, an organisation I joined several years ago with the vague and vain intention of doing some useful “networking” but had never, until now, taken advantage of any of its events. It was alsothe first ballet I’d ever been to. It was Prokoviev’s Cinderella, performed by the Ballet Russe, who are genuinelyRussian and are, apparently, based in Swansea. It was quite impressive and graceful, with several amusing pieces ofby-play by the ugly sisters and stepmother. Mary was most impressed by Prince Charming’s crotch (as were other female members of the audience), which left nothing to the imagination. Our neighbours in the pews were Michael Rogerson and his wife, Jane. Michael, a soon to retire partner in London office, failed to recognise me at first but soon recovered, explaining to his wife that I was “in charge of all the IT in the firm – a jolly good chap”. Flattered by this gross exaggeration of my importance and misapprehension of my role, I didn’t try too hard to disabuse her of the notion. For my part, I erroneously accused him of living in Ascot, the result of a misapprehension acquired several years ago when I accompanied him on a selling mission to Hartley Wintney, whereas he actually lives, much more prosaically, in Basingstoke. We finished the evening by attending the reception organised by the RSA, at which we had the opportunity to mingle with the cast and other RSA
members. I noticed that Michael managed to chat up one of the dancers but Mary and I stuck with other neophytes, a
professional personal coach and her husband who worked in IT. At first, he threatened to be a crushing bore as he started to waffle on about Prokoviev and his effect on the early twentieth century critics but then he took a more retiring role when his wife joined us. We chatted amiably for an hour or so and then made our farewells and left, a successful cultural breakthrough achieved with very little pain.

In contrast, Sunday was a visit to our other daughter, Vanessa, her sick husband Sam and her four unruly boys, two cats,
a kitten, a Rottweiler bitch called Rosie, and two waifs and strays who hang around because they have nothing better to
do called Nigel and John.

To my surprise, I have found adapting to driving on the left again, with a manual gear change and a clutch not a problem. I negotiated all the perils of the A34 and M27 without mishap, contentedly listening to my copy of the compilation CD I had sent to Bill several months ago, and which he had played as he ferried us about Paso Robles on Saturday night.

Monday was back to work and a mountainous inbox that wouldn’t allow me to save any new messages or even enter anything in my calendar. I’d forgotten all my passwords but at least I had been saved a desk and my laptop was awaiting me.
Mary reported that her day had consisted of dealing with staff issues – a potential unfair dismissal case and a member
of staff aggrieved because her SMP was all wrong, caused by the fact that she had failed to send in time sheets on time,
and a care worker refusing a job because she could not drive across THAT bridge. The mind boggles.

Days 22 - 24

2007-06-06T15:50:00.000-07:00

So now my SO has decided to change the format and confuse me, so instead of daily blogs we are now doing a couple of days at a time

Saturday 26th May 2007<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Despite our arrival at our Paso Robles destination, the traveling isn’t over. I write this in Mr Bill’s living room, to the soundtrack of hundreds of starlings, reinforced by recent immigrants, Common Grackles, that are currently experiencing a population explosion across America. We met a lot of them in Florida but have encountered them virtually everywhere we have been (I first met them in Trinidad, but that’s another story). These birds have taken up residence in Mrs Bill’s sycamore tree, and feed on next door’s Rottweiler’s food. Mrs Bill is properly known as Colleen and applies the same loving care to her garden that Bill applies to his record collection, so these birds pooping everywhere are not welcome visitors.

Yesterday, we toured Sequoia National Park, which is about two and a half hours drive from here, in the Sierra Nevada. It’s a stunningly beautiful but relatively unsung paradise on uninhabited mountains and magnificent trees. The sequoias themselves are astounding: massively permanent-seeming extensions of the mountains, stretching high wide and handsome up into the blue sky. They grow in “groves” in valleys at about 7,000 feet above sea level, where the conditions seem to be perfect for them. I visited the biggest of them all, the Sherman Tree, but couldn’t get a picture as the batteries in the camera had died, despite being replaced earlier in the day. The Sherman Tree is described as the largest living thing on earth despite not having the widest diameter or circumference, nor being the tallest, nor even being completely alive (its top is dead). Its trunk has the greatest calculated volume of any known tree, at something like 55,600 cubic feet. One of the noticeboards explained that if you could fill this volume with water and use it to bath your average American family, it would keep them in baths for 3.5 years. Naturally I question how many people in an average American family, how often they bath, and how much water they use, but it’s an impressive “statistic” nonetheless. Anyway, Sherman is 36 feet in diameter at the bottom and expanding at the rate of a “good-sized tree” every year. He’s about 215 feet, so not nearly as tall as the tallest redwoods, which are found north of San Francisco somewhere. The widest tree was said to be the Grant Tree, I think, at 40 feet diameter.

I got some good exercise walking down the hill from the car park to the base of the tree and, particularly, back up again. The air is considerably thinner at 7,000 feet than one is used to, so frequent stops to gather my breath and composure were required. Mary didn’t risk the walk as her asthma is exacerbated by the pine forests and we were surrounded, not only by sequoias, but by ponderosa pines and umpteen other pines. There were plentiful woodpeckers, chipmunks and squirrels to keep us company and, all in all, it was a wonderful place.

We had stayed overnight in Oakhurst, a small town between Yosemite and Fresno, where we stayed in a Days Inn and ate in an “American-Italian-Mediterranean” restaurant called Mio Amore, attached to a Best Western. This restaurant served up excellent food at a very reasonable price, made better by its policy of reducing prices if we ordered things that they couldn’t supply. Thus we got our wine cheap and our dessert free, without even having to complain. The waitress struggled with her fancy bottle opener, so I used the brute force and ignorance method of sticking the bottle between my feet and yanking on the corkscrew. That let off a satisfying pop that would have delighted my grandson Marcus. Our dining pleasure was somewhat diminished by being sat next to a speaker dispensing piped music that did battle with the discordant sound of a duo singing to a nearly empty bar next door. The piped music was tuneful but blandly irritating, the live music was out of tune but enthusiastic.

No such troubles in the car, where we listened to CDs of some recent radio shows that Bill and Drew have done on the local radio: a Jethro Tull special, when they were joined by two friends; a “dueling decks” themed show where Bill chose 1971 as his favourite year and Drew chose 1973. Songs from each year were played alternately and we the listeners left to judge which was the better year. As ever, the choices were eclectic and varied, with due deference to the classics, so Bill had choices from Meddle, Bless the Weather, From the Wychwood, Lifemask, The Man Who Sold the World, Sticky Fingers etc, Drew had Dark Side of the Moon, Solid Air, Goats Head Soup etc.. At the end of the day, it was a great show and I couldn’t come down off the fence.

At breakfast, one of our fellow guests asked whether we’d been attacked by the birds yet. We hadn’t, but I was grateful for the warning when, emerging from our bedroom I was mobbed by a female Brewer’s Blackbird, who parted my incipient bald patch with her feet. She has nested in the eaves of the hotel and takes exception to hotel guests approaching too close. She mobbed me all the way to the car and later got Mary as well.

The previous day, we had traveled from Mountain View in Silicon Valley, where we had stayed overnight with Mary’s former employee Sameera, a Christian Pakistani, who is now teaching, to the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco and then across via various congested freeways and local highways to Yosemite NP, where we were slightly underwhelmed, though we had some excellent views of wonderful scenery. I think we were really too tired at that point to appreciate it and were put off by the hordes of campers in the valley bottom. After Zion, Yosemite is somewhat lacking in vibrant colours, its primary assets being vast granite cliffs and waterfalls, whereas Zion is a symphony of rich reds and greens, the rocks being equally grandiose. Still, we did see Yosemite at sunset, which was striking, and we did enjoy our descent into the valley.

Our adventures with American plumbing deserve a whole blog to themselves, which will be forthcoming once the regular travelogue is over, but we ought to share with you our success in wrecking Mr Bill’s shower. On our first morning, after my shower, it switched off perfectly normally, but, after Mary’s, we couldn’t stop the water from flowing whatever we did to the shower knob: push, pull, twist or turn, it kept gushing into the bath at an ever increasing rate. Amid visions of floods and disasters, we sought help from a neighbour who was watering her lawn over the road and located the stopcock under the front lawn. Turning this off at least abated the spate but didn’t solve the problem of what to do about the shower. Fortunately, Bill was home at lunchtime for us to confess our sins, when we were told that they’ve been having problems with the shower on and off for two years, so it wasn’t our fault. Bill left a note for Colleen advising her of the problem but not indicating that anything had been done about it. Later he called to explain that he had called a plumber and where I could find the money to pay him. The plumbers duly arrived and, after much sucking of teeth and scratching of heads, replaced the valve and greased the ball-joint and all was fixed within half an hour. Bill arrived back while they were here and was able to negotiate the billing etc himself, so I was spared that ordeal.

Bill has taken Olivia with him to collect Dylan from college in Santa Rosa and is expected back some time late this afternoon. Mary is reading (as well as tackling another mound of washing) and Colleen is pottering about house and garden. Domestic bliss reigns and we have an afternoon of mischief awaiting us….

Day 21

2007-06-05T16:46:00.000-07:00

Monday 21st May 2007<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Today was the first day of the holiday that we had to be anywhere, so we checked out of our motel, this time having breakfast at a local diner. This Super 8 did not actually do breakfast in the motel but they gave you vouchers which you could use at this diner – Carrows .

Fortified with breakfast we then set off for the 200 mile or so drive to Paso Robles. Passing through yet more bleak Mojave Desert en route to Bakersfield and stopping briefly at Harper Dry Lake to look from some promised “Watchable Wildlife” but it was already to hot and dry to host any passing waders, so this was a complete Bunbury. Bakersfield itself is a big town of about 350,000 inhabitants but spread over many more square miles than such a town in England would be. Connie took us through it with little trouble and spat us out on to the I-5 north, up the flat Central Valley, which in places was still semi-desert, in others had been converted into lush cropland, with our first sightings of grapevines and fruit orchards and groves. We turned off onto CA46 at Lost Hills and proceeded sedately to cross the flat-bottomed valley, past an oilfield, which looked more like a pump-farm and then up through the Tehachapi Hills, complete with wind-farm, and down into Paso Robles, where Connie directed us faultlessly to Mr Bill’s house. As we had arrived early, and had promised Bill that we would already have fed and watered ourselves when we arrived, we then explored the local road to Atascadero, where we drove up and down El Camino Real till we found a Thai restaurant with cars in its car park.

After our excellent meal, we arrived at our destination in Paso Robles, to be greeted by Bill and his daughter Olivia, and later by his wife Colleen. A happy evening passed, reliving the adventures of our journey so far, and with plentiful suggestions for our future adventures whilst in California. We also watched some video of a comedian that Bill had recommended, Bill Maher, who was quite amusing and fairly outrageous about American politics. Bill also showed us his extensive music collection and its various hidey holes throughout the house. If I thought Bob’s collection was extensive, then it is minute compared to the collection here.

Day 20

2007-06-05T16:45:00.000-07:00

Sunday 20th May 2007<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

As we were in Las Vegas we thought we ought to at least have a look at what we thought was called Sunset Strip, or The Strip. On Las Vegas Boulevard we found it in all its glorious tastelessness. We discovered several miles of casinos themed by town – there was one for New York, one for London, one for Paris and so on, each seeming to have its own village of casinos and mono rails to get you around. What a dire experience. We are both country lovers so found this whole experience tasteless. There is much building still taking place, and a little further out from the centre, casinos that have obviously not made it, lying empty and derelict looking: such a contrast. We had no wish to get out and explore, so, after taking some photos to prove we had been there, we headed for Lake Mead where we had booked tickets on the paddle steamer at 2.00 pm to tour the lake and take a look at Hoover Dam.

By now the temperature was hot, registering 104 degrees in the car. Getting out of the car, the hot air hit you like a blast from a furnace. So, armed with hats and my pashmina to keep the sun off my arms and shoulders, we headedfor the boat. As it was obvious that it was going to be too hot to sit up top, because there was no canopy to provide shade from the sun, we went into the restaurant/bar area where there was air conditioning. This gave us the opportunity to have lunch and view the scenery from relative comfort. The whole thing was marred by what we assumed was probably a Saturday Dad and his three kids. They were quite noisy making it difficult to hear the commentary. He kept telling them to be quiet and then proceeded to use his mobile phone in a very loud voice. Bob was not best pleased when he went to the bar to get us a drink to hear the chap asking for information about the lake and dam (the same information that we had been told via the commentory had he listened). The dam was originally conceived as a flood control scheme. The Colorado used to alternately dry to a trickle and then flood the area south west of the dam site, providing fertile green valleys for settlement and agriculture but regularly devastating them when it flooded. The scheme was then adapted to provide water for the states of Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico and California and hydro-electric power as well. Originally planned for Boulder Canyon, it was eventually sited in Black Canyon, which had the effect of flooding Boulder Canyon as well, providing a bigger lake. During the building of the dam, all the workers lived in Boulder City, which was purpose-built, and the dam became known as Boulder Dam. It was officially named Hoover Dam to honour the former president.

When we got back to the car, it registered 107 F, the highest of our trip so far. From Lake Mead we decided to go and have a look at the top of Hoover Dam. We had intended to go to the top and then down again, but as the traffic was so bad coming down we found another route out to where we next wanted to go. The whole area was amazing: they have a 5 year programme of building works around the Dam, including a whole new road system.

To be able to view the Dam we were pulled over to a security check point, although what they were checking for was anyone’s guess as they just waved us through. Anyway we were now on the road to Barstow, California, where we had decided to spend the night (some 150 miles away).

Having originally planned to take the I-15 to Barstow, we were stymied by the aforementioned roadworks and so took route 93 to Kingman, Arizona, through more semi-desert, typical Apache country, stopping on the way at a scenic viewpoint where we shared photographic duties with other sightseers. At Kingman we joined the I-40, crossing the Mojave Desert into California, where we went through a border checkpoint, bemusing the guard who questioned us when we stated that we’d come from Hoover Dam – a completely illogical route in the normal course of events. Still, she waved us through, and on we went through the bleak and nearly featureless Mojave Desert for mile after mile, flanked by various mountain ranges that offered the eyes some relief from the tedium of the immediate surroundings, past nondescript little places with evocatively misleading names like “Essex” and “Ludlow” and “Newberry Springs”, eventually hitting Barstow at sunset.

Day 19

2007-06-05T16:43:00.000-07:00

Friday 18th May 2007 <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Friday morning update: this place has turned out to be the motel from hell. We should have realised when we were put in Room 101! Not only could we not connect to the Internet last night, but this morning we were unable to get any hot water from the taps or shower and when we boiled a kettle to pour into the sink, the water all seeped away via the ill-fitting plug and the tap was so fierce that it managed to shower us and the whole sink creating an absolute mess everywhere, including our trousers. When we went for breakfast at 8:30, we found that all the breakfast things had already been put away. A gent as old as Methuselah, with all the charm of a gnat, told us it had all been put away half an hour ago as it was now 9:30. I managed to get a cup of coffee, but there were no hot water facilities for tea. Luckily we are carrying the kettle we purchased for in New York so were able to make tea back in the room and Mary foraged the car for emergency rations kept for when I forget to stop for food. Somehow, we have crossed back into the Mountain Zone without realising it. Quite why Utah and Arizona should be in different time zones, we don’t understand, since one is directly north of the other. Had there been a clock in the room we would have noticed the time change, so another minus point for this motel. This is the first time that we have felt incensed enough to complete the customer satisfaction survey, which interestingly enough does not have space for what you want to say and is posted back to the President of Super 8 and not handed into the hotel. This may explain why all the motels have an outgoing mail basket – to capture the cards – and do they get passed on? Well we are more clever than that: we will pop ours into a mail box somewhere. We realised were lucky to get served dinner last night. No wonder the restaurant was virtually empty when we arrived and displaying its Closed notice when we left. Our checkout was carried out by the same surly gentleman, who refused to give us a receipt, saying the paperwork we had been given the night before was good enough.

Once again we hit the road fairly ill-prepared for a day at Bryce Canyon. We had filled our Super 8 mugs (purchased from a previous motel), so that we would have a hot drink (made with our own kettle as the motel’s coffee jug was empty) – well at least for the couple of hours it took the supposedly thermal cups to get cold. The only water we had was left from yesterday, and our emergency rations were seriously depleted. Our attempt to stock up at a roadside shop had netted us two bottles of water and an ice cream each. There was no other food for sale. Still onwards and upwards we travelled, out on the US89 and two local Utah roads to reach the Canyon, which we had to pay another $25 to enter. We have just discovered that we could have purchased a parks pass to use which would have made our meanderings around a little cheaper, but no one seems to tell you these things, they just assume you know: still, we are boosting the local economy.

Once at Bryce Canyon, we decided to head straight for the top, and then stopat all the designated places on the way back. Well, if we had thought the Grand Canyon was great, this was just as good, and in lots of ways much better. We took our time looking around and treated ourselves to lots more photos. Goodness knows how many we will have by the time we return to the UK. We were also treated to another thunderstorm with some lightning which is just amazing as the thunder echoes around the Canyon. There was quite a lot of rain just as we entered the Canyon, but luckily we were still in the car on our way to the top at that point. The temperature recorded by the car fell to 48 degrees but by the end of the day was up 40 degrees on that. The rain that we had whilst out of the car did little to get us wet. I was also brave enough to walk through the woods to one of the scenic spots, something I have been reluctant to do, ‘cause I cannot abide snakes and have been alarmed at all of the notices telling you to beware of Rattlesnakes. We also did some bird watching and we saw a Stellers Blue Jay when we finally stopped for breakfast/lunch at around 4.00 pm. We also saw white-breasted nuthatches, dark eyed juncos, a green winged towhee and various sparrows, of which the Americans seem to have an awful lot, as well as some lively little chipmunks, one of whom insisted on coming onto the decking of the café. Ravens had again been posing at the various stopping places and were being photographed by all and sundry.

On leaving the Canyon we decided that as we had had a fraught start to the day, including a short night as we had not registered the time change, that we would find a hotel sooner rather than later and visit Zion NP tomorrow. Bob had declared he was tired and insisted on having the air conditioning blasting even though it was making Mary too cold. Still the lure of another Canyon was too much for him and we went off in the direction of Zion and paid another $25 to enter the park. We were then completely bowled over by the scenery, the difference in rock formation and the fact that we were rapidly descending into a Canyon. We drove the 12 miles to the visitor’s centre, which also turned out to be the exit at the other end, so we are going back tomorrow to take one of the shuttle buses for a guided tour. We felt this would make a nice change and it would give Bob a little time off from driving (not too much otherwise he will get withdrawal symptoms). We then headed for Hurricane where we are ensconced in another Super 8. So far this one appears much better than the last (would not be difficult), and I have finally given in to the growing pile of washing and am currently waiting for the last load to dry, otherwise Bob will be driving around without his trousers. This evening has been one for housewifely type tasks as I have already stitched both his pairs of trousers back together (I wonder if the weight he has lost whilst in New York is going back on??)

Day 18

2007-06-05T16:42:00.000-07:00

Friday 18th May 2007 <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Day 17

2007-06-05T16:41:00.000-07:00

<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Crosby Stirs Jacobs who Yelps

Thursday 17th May 2007

What frustration! This Super 8 provides free high speed Internet Access, like all the others, providing a user name and password that one is supposed to supply on launching one’s browser. Unfortunately, on doing so, all we get is a 404 page. No amount of changing set-ups, setting up new user accounts, changing security options, generally frigging about with Microsoft’s obscurities has helped one iota. And the owner of this motel, one David Crosby, is aware of the problem but doesn’t know how it should be resolved. Apparently one of his customers told him that you had to go into computer setup or something to make it ask for user name and password but Dave doesn’t know the exact details. Neither do I and I haven’t been able to guess them, especially as I’m reluctant to change things that may prevent me from using the computer the way I want to ever after. We are not sure if we said in our latest blog but the last Super 8 we stayed at a) forgot to tell us that they had laundry facilities which would have been good given the amount of carrier bags full of washing we now have and b) did not manage to provide breakfast for a significant number of people. Luckily we arrived to find the last slices of bread for toast, but had to pester more than once for spoons for cereal and butter for toast. There were lots of people after us who found nothing and just left the motel, or who found nothing and pestered the reception until something was delivered. Mary also received an email asking us to rate our stay at Green River – can we remember which motel that was out of the 19 we have stayed at so far????

Dave’s a nice guy though (Super 8 at Kanab)… On our arrival we found a note on the check in desk that said “ Sorry I’m not here. Gone to the pool at the back to kool off. If you want some help, give a yelp. Dave.” So we went round the back and found Dave cleaning his pool, surrounded by sprinklers sprinkling his grass. He quickly followed us back to the check in desk and efficiently checked us in. He is the proprietor of this franchised motel. Thinking back, I think this is the first time we’ve been checked in by the owner since we started using these franchised motels. Usually the owner has been in the background or may have made an appearance in the morning. Only at the smallest, non-franchised joints have we been met by the proprietor before. The owner of the motel in Sioux Falls owned several other facilities, such as log cabins at Spearfish Canyon and the America’s Best Value Inn at Rapid City, which as not part of the same loyalty scheme.

The motel is in a small town (or City as it would have it) called Kanab, just back inside Utah, which was the first place we came to with a Super 8 after leaving the Grand Canyon again, this time from the North Rim, via Arizona 67 and US 89A. We’d stopped off in Fredonia, just inside Arizona to buy a bottle of wine, just in case we couldn’t get any as we were heading back into Utah, but as luck would have it, we were able to drink Chianti with our Italian at Amici’s in Kanab. Mary thought our waitress was Amish, based on her footwear and black stockings, but she then thought that if she was Amish would she have been allowed to work in a bar selling booze? I think she was just a member of the Italian family wearing practical, if ugly, shoes – but who knows?

The journeys to and from the North Rim were much better than yesterday’s to and from the South Rim. I think this was mainly because we started yesterday’s journey from Flagstaff, which was already 7,000 feet above sea level, so was already in the heavily wooded, temperate mountain zone, and ended the journey in the dark, which is never very interesting scenically, although the sunset was just amazing. A pity that the camera did not do it justice.

Today, we started from Page, a town only established in 1957, and began with a minor detour (which cost us $15 which I felt was steep, but then I was eager to get off to pastures new, so probably missed some of the treasures it had to offer) via the Glen Canyon Dam and the Waheap Marina on Powell Lake. We again encountered the Navajo markets, which Mary would have liked to have spent lots of money at, but due to the fact that we will probably have to pay lots of money for excess baggage she deferred to my diminishing bank account, and the fact that most of what was on offer would probably remain in a jewellery box, somewhere, never worn by those for whom it was purchased. We also encountered a nice couple who were doing a similar tour in a different order. He hailed from Jamaica, though by now he has completely lost his Jamaican accent, sounding completely American. We took pictures for each other and later bumped into them at the North Rim. This scenic viewpoint was at an elevation of a mere 4,000 feet or so, on the descent down a vermillion cliff into the Marble Canyon. Our journey to the North Rim took us up another 5,000 feet, through varying terrain. Most of it was through the Marble Canyon, a broad valley flanked by red sandstone cliffs that give the hamlet of Vermillion Cliffs its name. Through the middle of this broad valley flows the quiet Colorado River, deep green in colour, in its own Glen Canyon. No doubt its flow is somewhat subdued by the dam at Page, but it is still a powerful force in its own right.

We crossed the Colorado at Navajo Bridge, which is 5 miles down river of Lee’s Ferry, the first regular crossing of the Colorado to serve pilgrims in the 19th Century, apparently known as the Honeymoon Ferry as Mormons had to use it so that they could get their marriages sanctified at the Mormon Temple at St George. (Mary is party to various blogs on AOL and, apparently, although Mormons get married in their local churches, they then need to go to a Mormon Temple to be tied to their partners. They do not have the vows of ‘death till us part’, but something like for ‘ever and eternity’, which has to be sanctified at a Temple.) Navajo Bridge was built in 1929 and was, at the time, the largest steel arch bridge in the world, and finally provided a permanent through route between Arizona and Utah, reducing the need for the Lees Ferry. A second bridge was built in the 1990s to cope with the heavier transport that was now wending its way around the countryside. The second bridge was built in exactly the same style. The same methods were used, apart from the more sparing use of explosives, so they form an artistically satisfying pair. The accompanying Visitors’ Center was quite aesthetically pleasing too: it was low built, of roughly hewn stone with crenellations, suggesting a frontier fortress, thus blending into the countryside because it lacked straight lines, while suggesting the history of the West. We spent some time there, taking photos of and from the original bridge, using the organically composting toilets and watching adverts for videos of local attractions.

We were now on the “Fredonia side” of the Colorado, as opposed to the “Flagstaff side” where we had been yesterday. Our path continued across the broad valley bottom and then took us up onto the Colorado Plateau and again into the Kaibab National Forest, up to about 9,000 feet above sea level. The surroundings changed from flat, sagebrush covered semi-desert to hilly juniper and pine forest, then to alpine meadow and pine forest. Up there, we went through about 13 miles of recently burnt forest: mile after mile of blackened and dead trees, still upright but densely packed and dead. At their feet were fresh green sprouts of grass, spruce trees and other plants. There was also evidence of intervention, as lots of trees close to the road had been felled. As for the silver birches that had also been caught in the fires, it was difficult to tell whether they were still alive or not: were they just late coming into leaf or were they dead? – they were still silver-barked but had no signs of buds or leaves.

After a journey of nearly 100 miles, we re-entered the National Park and then drove a further 30-odd miles to the North Rim, where we parked and set out for the Visitors Centre. Mary was only wearing her flip flops (as there had been no notices to suggest that there was anything here other than visitors services) , so when we then came upon the path to the Bright Angel scenic viewpoint, she declined to accompany me for safety reasons, which ultimately proved to be a sensible decision due to the vertiginous nature of the surroundings. I, myself, being somewhat out of breath by the time I met up with Mary again. was in full agreement with her decision. On finding Mary after my walk, she was engaged in conversation with Bud and Mary from Phoenix. They were there celebrating 37 years of marriage. Mary continues the narrative.

Bud had been in the Navy and had spent some time in New York, but had then gone to Phoenix some 40 years ago, so one would assume that he had met his wife, Mary, there and married and settled down. They now had 2 children and 2 grandchildren, and by their own admission were home birds, so for them this trip was something rather special and out of the ordinary. Bud had been involved in electrics and had done work at the Glen Canyon Dam and knew about the working of electrics and water and how it got from one place in the Canyon to others. This was demonstrated when some guy made a comment to him and he was able to explain at great length how it all worked. The guy who posed this question was also proud of the fact that hisdigital camera allowed him to take 200 shots a day and that he could download them at the end of each day, so he could take the same amount the next day. I thought it best to keep quiet as my camera currently has around 3000 pictures on it (but then it is a 2 gb SD card J ).

Day 16

2007-06-05T16:40:00.000-07:00

Wednesday 16th May 2007<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

After another restless night (at least for me), we managed to make breakfast 10 minutes before they were due to take it off display. The one thing that we have found at mealtimes is that everything is very prompt: if breakfast in the motel is till 9.00 am that is what they mean, even though check out is not till 11.00 am.

After having breakfast and carrying out some housekeeping on our emails we set forth for the Grand Canyon. Giving Connie the chance to be in charge, she took us via the I-40 West and then North on Arizona 64 through some fairly boring countryside. After some of the impressive scenery we had seen over the last couple of days we were almost unprepared for the ‘flat’ scenery was saw on our drive to the Grand Canyon. The hotel had given us some tickets for money off an orientation show of some 34 minutes, but, as it happened, we completely missed the venue for this, which we finally worked out had been before we entered the National Park. We had gleaned from the literature provided that some 6000 cars a day enter the park and that there is only parking for 2000 cars, so we found ourselves some way away from our original destination of the Visitors Centre and having to park alongside the road, at what transpired to be almost opposite Yakapai??? observation area. At this point, Bob being of weak bladder, or just a male, nipped into the bushes for a quick pee. Of course, us ladies had to wait until a suitable restroom came in sight. Having looked at the map we realised we had completely got our bearings wrong and had started to walk away from the Visitors Centre. We did manage to latch onto one of the guided Ranger talks, so heard some interesting history about the Canyon, and the fact that The Grand Canyon in America is the ONLY Grand Canyon, and all others throughout the world are just wanabee Grand Canyons J.

I have to say that I am not convinced about the use of the term awesome, but today what we saw at the Grand Canyon was AWESOME. From the top of the Canyon to the bottom is just about one mile. The Colorado River that runs through the Canyon looks about 6 inches wide, but some guy was saying that in fact it was about 2 miles wide. [Ed: no, it was two miles from that bit of the Colorado there to that bit there, which to the naked eye seemed only a few hundred yards]. At one point we actually saw some rapids. The colours and rock formation were so different in places it was hard to believe it was all part of the same landscape. We have managed to take some brilliant photos and some of the best are where the shadows of the clouds impose themselves on the rocks.

We eventually found the Visitors Centre and viewed the displays of information about the area. We briefly popped into the book shop, which of course meant that I purchased a DVD on the Grand Canyon and bought Bob a book and a couple of other odds and ends. (I suspect that we will have to pay excess luggage back to the UK if we carry on like this).

We were also treated to a thunderstorm whilst we were at the Canyon. The effects of the shadows on the Canyon was just amazing. We managed to keep dry, which was lucky as it was evident on our drive to the East exit that there had been a substantial amount of rain. We also saw, again, the devastation caused by fire. A lot of the pines had been burned, but had managed to survive so had lots of top growth, but no lower growth, or lower growth that was singed.

At one of the turnouts there was a rather splendid Raven sat on the wall, who was joined by his mate. I took some photos from the car window, never having seen a Raven so close up before, but we were in for a treat as it would appear that these Ravens may have been relying on visitors for food (not good for them of course). Realising that we were going to get out of the car and on hearing the rustle of a crisp packet one of the Ravens came and stood by the passenger door whilst I got out, so I was able to get an even better photo. Not having the courage of his convictions regarding the crisp he backed off whilst I got out of the car and went back onto the wall. I then photographed Bob with the Raven close, indeed it looks like it is trying to get something out of his bum bag, and Bob then got a shot of me with a Raven close by. Driving further on we witnessed other people getting close up shots as well.

We finally left the Grand Canyon around 6.00 pm – having by now stopped at all the turnouts en route, ending with Desert View, which, besides views of the Grand Canyon, also offered a view of the distant Painted Desert, past which we had driven on our way to Flagstaff, and Cedar Mountain. With the thunderstorm still raging to our right, to the left we could see a dust storm kicking up out of the desert.

Leaving the East entrance we again gave Connie her chance to guide us to Page where we had decided we would stop tonight. We discovered it was some 80 or so miles away, so settled in once again to enjoy the scenery on our journey there. The most spectacular of which was the Little Colorado Canyon, which looks much like the Grand Canyon but on a much smaller scale. We did try to visit one of the scenic turnoff points, which was also a Navajo market, but discovered that once they left the site for the evening a barrier of fence went up, so there was no chance of getting near enough to get any really good photos. So content with a couple of pictures that included the fencing, we set off again for Page. Connie at this point reminding us several times that she had to recalculate.

By this time, due to the thunderous sky, it had started to get dark at just after 7.00 pm, so we were now driving in the dark for the first time since we have been here. Because of the early hour we wondered if we had gone back into the previous time zone and that it was actually an hour later (but subsequent arrival at Page told us that this was not the case). We witnessed an amazing sunset, with the sun setting below the thunder clouds. I have taken some photos, but they do not really do justice to the scenes we were witnessing. The road at this point became quite an interesting drive for Bob, and it will be interesting in the morning to see what scenery we missed in the darkness, when we retrace our steps, at least for 25 miles, so that we can do the north Grand Canyon loop.

Once settled into our Super 8 we ventured out for a meal and, thanks to Connie, found a restaurant called The Glen Canyon Steakhouse that served me with an excellent New York Steak and Bob with a Filet Mignon steak, washed down with a dubious bottle of Robert Mondavi’s Cabernet Sauvignon costing $24.00 (2004 vintage). We then went on to find Fred’s Liquor store, where Bob purchased a bottle of Australian Yellow Tail Cabernet Sauvignon for just over $7.00 dollars, which was far superior.

We discovered that for the first time we have a balcony with our room at our motel, but, having arrived in the dark, were not able to make use of it. This morning we have discovered a great view of the mountains.

Day 15

2007-06-05T16:38:00.000-07:00

Tuesday 15th May 2007<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Well eventually we stayed up late last evening so that we could speak to Ellen, our youngest granddaughter who was 6 on 15th May. This caused great amusement with her as she was just getting up on Tuesday and her birthday, and for us it was still Monday and we had not yet gone to bed. After a chat we said goodnight, only to have Skype call us about 15 minutes latter so that Ellen could tell us what presents she had for her birthday. Unfortunately the birthday card we had sent her 5 or 6 days ago had not yet arrived.

So we eventually got to bed around 12.30 in the morning. As there was no breakfast at this Super 8 we decided not to set the alarm and consequently slept in till around 10.00 am. Having done the usual morning ablutions, packing of cases and checking out we went back to the restaurant we had visited the evening before for breakfast. We arrived about two minutes to 11.00, and by the time they came for our order we were refused breakfast as it was after 11.00 and lunchtime. This left us both having to decide what we fancied because all we really wanted was eggs. So, reluctantly fortified with a toasted cheese sandwich for me (which came with fries) and a chicken sandwich for Bob, we decided on our next course of action. Any idea of visiting the dinosaur museum was abandoned, as time was marching on, so I popped to the Family Dollar shop to get soap powder for this evening’s clothes washing, whilst Bob settled the diner bill (ticket) and went to retrieve the car from the Super 8 car park. Then to the petrol station where Bob was shocked to pay $3.50 per gallon for fuel (this was 50 cents more that we had paid anywhere else), and I stocked up on a picnic lunch, knowing that once his nibs was behind the steering wheel he might not stop again for many (many) hours J.

We headed out onto the US 191 in search of Monument Valley, leaving it just after Bluff, where we took US163 in a south westerly direction. After another half hour’s drive or so, we passed a mountain range called Mexican Hat: the range of mountains had a sort of zig zag colour formation, a bit like the pattern on a poncho, and in front was an outcrop of rocks which looked like a man under a big Mexican Hat. Spectacular.

Soon we saw a smallish sign which was not particularly clear and only announced the visitors centre, immediately before the Arizona State Line. I quickly realised that the Monuments were now behind us, and Bob reluctantly made a U-turn back out of Arizona (not something he is good at – not U-turns, but going back on himself). We then followed the signs to the Monument Valley Visitors Centre where, on paying our $10, we were told to take the first left for the 70 mile round trip of the Valley. Being the hardy people we are, we first went to the Visitors Centre whence we could see the Valley and the track down. After purchasing a Stetson for Bob and a Rangers hat for me (the baseball caps purchased in New York having done little to keep the sun from our ears and necks), we took the car down into the Valley. The road surface was not what you would call smooth, and was probably better suited to 4 wheeled drives, but none the less we had a fantastic journey through the Valley amongst such treasures as the Three Sisters, Elephant Butte and John Ford’s Point. At every turnout, we had a spectacular picturesque view over the valley, and there were also Navajo Indians selling jewellery. At the one where I purchased various items the ladies were actually making it as they were selling it. At another a man was also making jewellery and was keen to impart the history of the area. If you are prepared to take the time to listen people are more than happy to talk with you for ages we have discovered, from the inn keepers to visitors centre staff and like yesterday the Navajo Indians at their market stalls.

One of the things that amused us were the people who had booked the tour buses, sort of jeeps with maybe 16 seats on the back. It would appear that the people on these tours were issued with white face masks and only the Japanese tourists were wearing them. Reminded us of the SARS scare when we flew into Toronto and it was only the Japanese wearing masks then.

We are not sure that the journey was the 70 miles that they advertised, but we were gone for around 2.5 hours, so it could well have been. The car now looks like it has half the desert on it, so we may consider taking it to a car wash if we can find one that does it for you, rather than the do it yourself kind. Once back at the Visitors centre we had a cup of tea and coffee on the terrace overlooking the mesas. We saw several Martins swooping around, and were overawed by the peace and contentment we felt at the stillness of the place.

Once back in the car we headed for Tuba City where we thought we might stop for the night. Looking at the clock and the breathtaking scenery we then decided to carry on further. Tuba City itself did not appear to have much to recommend it and appeared short on eating places and motels.

Along the way we were amazed by the changing scenery, from flat desert to rugged mountains, from redstone to brownstone to greystone, greenstone and limestone, and all colours in between. At one point we could have been back in Badlands. Whatever the rocks or soils, there was a good sprinkling of sagebrush and juniper trees, often some tough-looking clumps of grass as well.

We again found the inevitable roadworks (we find at least one lot per day) and had to wait ages for the pilot vehicle to escort us through.

One of the things that has amazed us is the miles of railroad cut through the mountains and the engineering feat that must have been, because presumably you cannot have the contours in the railroad that you have in the roads. We have seen little evidence that trains actually use them, but what trains we have seen have been freight trains about a mile long and often double deckered. Mind you there must be a railway station near this motel we are staying at, because we have heard the train blasting their horns as they rolled past.

At the junction with US 89, we had to decide between North to Page and South to Flagstaff. We eventually decided to head for Flagstaff, where there are 3 Super 8 Hotels, but (you have guessed it) the one we have booked into (because it has laundry facilities) was not the easiest to find, even with Connie’s instructions (yet again getting her right and left mixed up). To cap it all the laundry facilities were out of order. Still, we found an Outback Restaurant within easy walking distance and, joy of joys, we could actually get a drink with our meal (the first for 3 days). So having decided on the priorities – which martinis to order and what bottle of wine to have with our meal, we opted for the Blooming Onion again and I had an excellent Swordfish steak, whilst Bob had Jumbo Shrimp, which unfortunately he did not enjoy as they were deep fried in batter and came with nothing other than French Fries. He sorely regretted not having the Swordfish Steak, especially after I have him a taste. The Ice Cream dessert topped with Cinnamon and Apple Sauce and Cinnamon Croutons was delicious and one between the two of us was more than enough. All finally washed down with an Irish coffee, made to our instructions as the restaurant staff had not heard of them.

Day 14

2007-06-05T16:35:00.000-07:00

Monday 14th May 2007 <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

After breakfast of coffee, toasted rolls and a Danish pastry, we got away by 10:00am to do some sight-seeing. Green River is close to several National and State Parks, as well as other areas of outstanding natural beauty. Having studied a local leaflet, I plumped for the Goblin Valley State Park, so we headed back West on the I-70 for a few miles, before turning off (South by my reckoning but East according to the road sign) on Utah Route 24, signposted to Hanksville (I love these place names). This road followed the San Rafael Reef for most of its distance, a jagged line of upended strata jutting into the sky. 37 miles later, after a couple more, well-sign-posted, turns and a visit to another insalubrious loo of the same ilk as in Yellowstone but less noxious, we came to our destination. This is a curious valley in the San Rafael Swell, where the Entrada Sandstone layer has been eroded by wind rain and sand into hundreds of little pillars of varying shapes and sizes, some of which resemble goblins, people and, dare I say it, male sex organs. So I had to pose by one for a photo, just so that we can caption it “Two Dickheads” or “Spot the ….”

The ranger at the entrance to the Park told us that we could walk where we liked, and noticesat the site confirmed this, apart from where they had fenced it off. They are conducting an experiment to gauge the effect of human activity on the rate of erosion at the site. We walked down among the goblins and took lots of photos. The view to the South included the Henry Mountains, with the most prominent peak, Mt Ellen, covered in snow. The temperature at this stage, according to the car’s thermometer, was 70 and rising, but it felt a lot hotter and we didn’t have much water or sun protection, so we kept our walk short and returned to the car for a quick bite to eat and a drink, then started on our next adventure.

Against my principles, but sometimes it has to be done, we retraced our route back to Green River and then beyond on the I-70 till it met the US 191 going South to Moab.

We resisted the temptation to get lost in the Maze at Canyonlands NP and plumped instead for the Arches NP, where we spent the next 4 hours, happily snapping more odd rock formations and, in particular, the famous Balanced Rock, the Windows, Tower Arch and Delicate Arch (which features on Utah number plates). The dramatic backdrop to many of these shots was provided by the snow-capped LaSal Mountains. The visit to the Windows included the chance to stretch our legs again, so I climbed up to both those and the Tower Arch to take photos, having left Mary to go back to the car as her asthma was again playing up. We also took several photos of flowering yuccas and other cactuses and desert plants. I was captivated by a singing bird with red chin, which at first I mistook for a red-throated pipit but then had to correct myself when it also revealed a red rump and finch’s beak. My best guess, from studying the book, is a House Finch, or perhaps a Purple Finch or one other whose name escapes me. None seemed to quite fit in the terrain occupied by this bird though. There were also lots of martins that are assisting in the erosion process by nesting in holes along a fault near the tops of the arches, and some splendid ravens, calling evocatively.

Down at the well-appointed Visitor Center, before our tour of the NP, we watched a brief Discovery Channel production on Canyonlands and Arches, explaining how the geographical and geological features had developed over time, as best the geologists can work it out, anyway. There are still some mysteries as to how some of the formations could have evolved. We also bought a DVD about the area and other National Parks, and a CD of music written and played by a Native American, inspired by these places. We played it as we toured but must report that “inspired” it was not: really rather dull fluty stuff with uninteresting rhythms and melodies. Pleasant enough background music but nothing to make you gasp with pleasure. Other musical accompaniment today included John Renbourn and Jacqui McShee, an orphaned vine that I will be happy to resuscitate if anyone is interested, more Mr Bill weirdness and one of his best of 2006 collections: most satisfying. This effectively means that after two weeks we have now exhausted our collection of CDs, so from tomorrow will have to start listening to them all again. Reception for our iPods has not been good in this area (too much interference from religious channels), so we have not listened to the additional music we have on them.

Leaving the Arches at about 5:00pm, with the temperature in the mid-90s, we headed on South, past Moab towards Monticello and Blanding. Moab lies in a fertile valley, next to one of the quieter sections of the Colorado, which we crossed. This leg of our journey then took us up into fertile lands, still largely sandstone dominated, but much greener, where some fields had even been ploughed and plentiful agricultural activity was in evidence. Then there were cedar forests and wide vistas, uninterrupted by mountains until the far distance, well into Colorado. We had to endure two long waits for roadworks, but otherwise the journey was uneventful. Despite several notices warning us of migrating deer, we didn’t see any on this leg. In some places along the way you could almost have been driving in England, given the ploughed fields and flat terrain.

Arriving in Blanding, we couldn’t find our motel but Connie came to our rescue and guided us there safely. Blanding, it seems was founded by Mormon pilgrims, who came to “civilise” the Navajo Indians, who, of course, were already quite civilised enough thank-you. The legacy of this is that restaurants are not allowed to serve beer or wine and there is no liquor store in town (the nearest, in Monticello, is 21 miles away, according to Connie). There is also a shortage of tea and coffee, both being stimulants disapproved of by Mormons. However, there is a pot of coffee on the go in the motel, but barely luke warm. We ate next door, in “The Old Tymer” restaurant, which despite its tee-total list of beverages, is decorated with a picture of a bawdy western saloon bar, complete with be-stockinged harlots holding aloft halfempty beer glasses. If you think we were frustrated by lack of wine, imagine how it must have been for our French neighbours at the next table, whose mode de vie demands a bouteille de vin with every meal. When the waitress asked them if they wanted anything else, one old boy muttered under his breath “wine”, which made Mary chuckle. This building was of the same vintage as the motel (ie very new) but its interior had been well-designed to give the impression of rustic antiquity. As it features the same family photo of about a dozen healthy looking teenagers and a proud parent or two, we surmise that it belongs to the same family.

Tomorrow, on into Arizona …

Day 13

2007-06-05T16:34:00.000-07:00

Sunday 13th May 2007<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Things are really hotting up now: 92F outside, in fact. That’s because we have careered past Salt Lake City, which was experienced as a mass of freeway exits mysteriously signed “10600 No” etc, roadworks and frenetic traffic, and Provo, where we left the southbound I-15 for the quieter reaches of the East-bound US Highway 6, heading South East for Monument Valley and other spectacular sights and sites before we swing back West to the Grand Canyon. We’re in yet another Super 8 Motel, this time at Green River, Utah, where they apparently have a grand Melon Festival every September. Seems odd in the middle of a desert but then this is somewhat of an oasis, with the muddy Green River flowing through. To get here, we have driven down the spectacular Price River Canyon and along a busy single lane highway across serious desert landscape, flanked by classic stripy buttes that, in Westerns, always feature the silhouettes of some hostile Apaches. We’ve seen no hostiles on this trip but a few bloated road-kills, probably white-tailed deer, that haven’t been cleaned up by the vultures, ravens or coyotes. The only live animal we spotted was one lonely cow grazing away. For musical accompaniment, we have mostly been featuring Mr Bill’s Wildest Rides, those ones that came on imitation vinyl CDs, which included Roy’s Zaney Janey as we climbed up out of Bear Lake Valley towards Logan Canyon. A compilation of women’s names, beginning with Joni Mitchell’s Amelia nearly got played all the way through twice. When radio reception allowed, we had an interlude of Mary’s iPod, with some good long Van Morrison tracks, two David Gilmour tracks, some classical music, a Solid Air and an Over the Hill from John Martyn and a Green Man from Roy. We completed out journey here with a Playlist CD from one of the music mags, so a good variety. But I run ahead of myself …

Yesterday’s report ended abruptly without any description of our musical adventures: forgive me – I ran out of steam and it was about 1:00am. Anyway, Junior Mack’s Live Adventures was the last CD played yesterday and we finished it off this morning, following our breakfast in the company of an aged Swiss couple, the man working hard at expanding his international vocabulary. He was confounded by the American pronunciation of Montpelier (Mont-peel-ee-er) rather than the French version that we know and love. The desk clerk explained that the town, a stopping off point on the Oregon Trail, used to be named after the creek on which it stood but an investor insisted on naming it after his own home town, Montpelier in Vermont. That too is pronounced the American way, though I bet it was named after the town in France (or if not, perhaps the district in Cheltenham?). This led to a general discussion of such matters, including the Tetons (American pronunciation Tee-tons), whereas they were named by French trappers with a short e: meaning “breasts”. In New York, a colleague pronounced Pret a Manger “manger” as in “dog in a manger”. She was surprised when I told her it was French, and what it meant and how it should be pronounced. There must be hundreds of similar examples I have noted on my travels but I’ve got(ten!) so used to them I can’t remember them.

We set off south on US 89, skirting the beautiful turquoise blue Bear Lake and entering Utah as we did so. We stopped at a garage there to clean the windscreen and stock up on provisions and then headed on, eventually leaving the valley to climb the hills into the Cache National Forest (God knows how they pronounce that!) and stop at a viewpoint overlooking the lake and the fertile valley around it. Then onwards and upwards, over 7,000 feet, before descending with the Logan River down its canyon towards Logan City. This was another breathtaking drive (especially for Mary, whose asthma has started reacting to something, be it thinner air, pine forests or sulphorous hot springs – we don’t know for sure), descending in sweeps and curves beneath craggy cliffs, alongside the tumbling river, amid cottonwoods, pines, birch and willows. It must have gone on for 30 miles before delivering us into another broad valley that is flanked by snow-capped mountains. In Logan, I was pleased to spot signs to the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge at the head of the Great Salt Lake. Imagine my disappointment to find it closed because it was Sunday… Grrr. Nevertheless we got splendid views of White Faced Ibis (like Glossy Ibis but with paler faces and bills) and Yellow-headed Blackbirds. Mary also saw some meadowlarks, with their bright yellow bellies.

After this disappointment, we joined the southbound I-15 and headed pell-mell past the Salt Lake conglomeration. It was not possible to tell where one city ended and another started, particularly with the obscure signage, but again, it went on and on for mile after mile of undistinguished architecture, outof town malls and roadworks. Any temptation I had previously experienced that Salt Lake City might be interesting evaporated. As Mary had drifted off to sleep, I of course resisted the urge to wake her up as I just wanted to keep driving, even though I had said we might stop there for a look around. I carried on past it all until I spotted the exit for the east-bound US Highway 6. We then followed this down another huge canyon, alongside the Union Pacific Railroad (I think), down the Price River, to a small rest area at the bottom of the canyon, where we had a late lunch of yesterday’s leftover chicken and crisps, followed by a muffin and an apple. The restrooms had disconcertingly low cubicle walls, so anyone so inclined could lean over and see what you were up to. I don’t think anyone did though…

As we ate our lunch we were entertained by a flock of about 20 starling-like birds that we diagnosed as Brown-headed Cowbirds and possibly a couple of Bronze Cowbirds, although our new American bird book was not explicit about whether or not we would find these in this area. We also spotted a small squirrel like creature that looked and posed like a prairie-dog, chirruping and wagging its little tail at the same time. We thought it probably wasn’t a prairie dog though, as it was all alone. We did take a picture of it, but as it was in shadow it may still be impossible to diagnose it. This part of our drive was also in the Valley of the Dinosaurs and apparently there are lots of archeological digs around where they have found plenty of evidence of them.

The road led us past some mine-workings and through a small town that began with H and then through Price itself, where we refueled and re-cleaned the windscreen, before heading across the desert, past the buttes previously described, and spilling us onto the I-70 East. Here we spotted the sign to the Green River Super 8 and made our earlier than usual stop for the night, thinking we might go out and explore the nature reserve/recreation area we had spotted coming in, but I got embroiled in my chess games and this blog and by the time I came up for air it was getting dark and supper time.

When we went out to the car just before 8.00 pm it was telling us it was 104 degrees, some big difference from this morning as we left the snow covered mountain areas in just about 60 degrees. All we can say is thank you who ever inventing air conditioning. This place does not offer much in the way of food outlets, so we ended up in a café/Mexican restaurant that looked a little ropey, but appeared to be about our only choice. And, as they say, do not be deceived by appearances. They served us with an excellent Tilapia plate (some sort of meaty white fish) for me and a pair of Chicken Tostadas for Bob, along with some refried beans, salad, rice, tortillas and so on. Because it is Sunday we could not get any wine (the restaurant was another that did not serve anything other than beers), so we have just popped to the local garage shop and are contenting ourselves with a Busch Beer which tastes vaguely like lage

Day 12

2007-06-05T16:30:00.000-07:00

<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Saturday 12th May 2007

Mary had another bad night, so we were late up, despite chambermaids regularly knocking our door from 8:00 onwards, till I belatedly put out the Do Not Disturb sign. For one our bed wasn’t really big enough and the room was too warm, even with the window open. There was a heater but no air-conditioning. There was also a small fan in a closet that we didn’t deign to deploy. After breakfasting in the General Store café across the way, on fruit salads and a disgraceful hot cinnamon roll, we eventually hit the road again at midday. This time we took it easy, with regular and frequent stops to admire points of interest such as the Kepler Cascade and Lewis Falls, where I saw something that originally looked like a bushy tailed baboon. I decided it was probably a wolverine or close relative. We headed South out of Yellowstone Park and along the JD Rockefeller Highway into Grand Teton NP, following the Snake River valley alongside the Teton Range, which were spectacular in their coats of snow and glaciers. Jackson and Jenny Lakes provided excellent views and there were frequent “Turnouts”, with informative notices about the geology of the range and the wildlife, which was mostly notable by its absence (ie we didn’t see a bear, elk or moose all day and only spotted one bison). At the Southern end of the Grand Teton NP is Jackson Hole, a lush valley caused by the same tectonic shifts that are causing the Tetons to rise (the “restless teenagers of the Rockies”, as one board described them). Jackson, Wyoming, is a charming little town retaining its 19th century wooden architecture and atmosphere, with plentiful historical notices explaining its past and present. Its local corvids were ravens, which were in full throaty cry as they flittered around the town square. At all four entrances to their little park there were elk antler arches. Apparently they shed these at the end of the season and local scouts go around collecting them and selling them, and then people make arches out of them (we saw some evidence of this as we drove past peoples houses later in the day).

After a brief wander around this town, we set off down US Route 89, down the Snake River Canyon, which offered many more spectacular views of the teeming river and the tall canyon walls – much greener than I had imagined it. Given its full name “The Grand Canyon of the Snake River” according to my map, it was surprisingly ordinary but nevertheless beautiful. It eventually emerged from the canyon into a flood plain where it is joined by the Salt River and where Palisades Lake lies beneath the Palisade mountains – less spectacular than the Tetons but snowy all the same. At the top end of the reservoir, there was a bird hide, covering the marshes and willow scrub around the Salt River. I finally got out my telescope and we enjoyed good views of a Great Blue Heron, some Pelicans, Cinnamon Teal, Canada Geese, Red-Winged Blackbirds, martins, willow flycatchers etc. The notice by the hide stated that Bald Eagles and Ospreys nested there but we didn’t see any until we drove further south, when I spotted an osprey in a nest on top of a telegraph pole. A bit further on, another osprey was eating a fish atop another pole. The Salt River flowed on through a lush green valley called Star valley, according to all the adverts we passed. We followed it for nearly all its length, rising about 400 feet in theprocess, though this was not noticeable except by reference to the town welcome signs that proudly state population and elevation above sea level: these were all above 6,000 feet and rising. Temperature was between 70 and 76 most of the time.

Eventually the road left Star Valley, climbing up into Bridger National Forest, providing a spectacular view back over the valley and then we crossed into Idaho and descended through several canyons and valleys, alongside small creeks such as Salt Creek and Water Creek. Much of this terrain reminded me of the A7 along the borders between Edinburgh and Carlisle: big grassy hills and wooded ravines, with the road winding through the bottom of the valley. We encountered more roadworks where it appeared that one of the hills had slid over the road, and then came into Montpelier, where we found another Super 8, whose car park contained two enormous transporters carrying the seal-wrapped top and bottom halves of a luxury yacht. The trucks were from Dallas, the escort vehicles from Illinois, California, South Dakota and Texas. If the trucks are going to try proceeding N up the 89 tomorrow they’ll have serious difficulty.

We ate in the Montpelier Grill, where we were served by an 18 year old girl who is about to travel to London. She didn’t use the word “awesome” once, which was something of a record for our servers. I did, however, use it appropriately earlier today for some of the views we had of the Tetons. No wine was available, but we settled for Coors (made from natural Rocky Mountain Water in Golden, Colorado, according to the bottle) for me and Apple Smirnoff for Mary. She had the chicken platter and I had another buffalo burger.

Day 11

2007-06-05T16:29:00.000-07:00

Thursday 10th May 2007<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Mary had a bad night last night, not helped by the fact that I was sweating like a pig… enough of the personal details and on to the travelogue. We first successfully followed the receptionist’s directions to the local post office, where we were able to dispatch our birthday greetings to our granddaughter who will be 6 next week. We also sent printed versions of the blogs to our mothers, neither of whom is quite up to modern technology. Printing them was a hassle, thanks to Mary’s innovation of embedding pictures in the documents, and the fact that the motel only had an older version of word and no colour cartridges in the colour printer. The first 3 pictureless blogs were all 40KB or less. Blog 4 was 4.4MB and Blog 5 2.8MB. Once converted to earlier versions of Word, they bloated to 70MB and 41MB respectively. No wonder Sara, our daughter, complained of slow downloads after Mary emailed them to her. Anyway, I’m putting a stop to that nonsense, but not for the blogs sent to our daughters as they want the pictures and anyway Mary has final editorial say over what I write and vice versa. The written word will have to be good enough for everyone else until I can find out how to let you have the pictures as well.

Now, wherewas I? Oh yes, the staff at the post office were much friendlier and more helpful than the New York ones, but they still told us off for not putting a return address on our envelope. What exactly would have been the point? We’re not returning to New York and a return address in England would have been useless. In the mean time we’re constantly on the move.

Anyway, onwards to the West we went, dropping in at “Fort Hays” where they have moved the set for Ft Hays, where several scenes from Dances with Wolves were set. Apparently it had been filmed some 16 miles away, and the production company had left the scenery where it was, on private land. Someone had then purchased it all, dismantled it and taken it to its new location. It is said the Kevin Costner is a stickler for authenticity and they even had to find square nails to put everything together. We then checked out Hill City and then headed North through the Black Hills (via the inevitable roadworks that we keep stumbling upon – this time having to follow a safety car through them) to Deadwood City, scene of Wild Bill Hickock’s demise, shot through the back of the head by Jack McCall, who was acquitted by a hastily convened miners’ court on the grounds that Hickock had killed his brother. He was subsequently found guilty by a more formal court elsewhere.

We had a fascinating 40 minutes reading the material and watching a video in the visitors’ centre, which of course attempted to debunk all the wild west myths and build up the image of a worthy Victorian middle class that has persisted to this day, financing the town’s restoration by legalising gambling and subventing all gambling taxes to the Deadwood Restoration Society. They also questioned the relationship between Wild Bill and Calamity Jane: apparently she hardly knew him even though she claimed that they had a sexual relationship. They also said she was nowhere near as attractive as any of the actresses that had portrayed her. We then had a snack in a casino, which was allegedly where Jack McCall had been arrested, (chicken strips for Mary, “Buffalo Burger” for me) and bored ourselves stupid trying to spend a dollar on a fruit machine. As soon as we thought we’d nearly lost it the bugger went and won nearly all our money back so we had to persevere till it was all lost.

Mission accomplished, we headed for Tatanka the place Kevin Costner is supposed to have set up that honors the long gone bison, and also houses a display of the clothes worn in his various films both by him and his co-stars. Unfortunately it doesn’t open till May 27 – Memorial Day. Never mind, back through Deadwood we went and took the road through Lead to the Spearfish Canyon, which was a delightful descending drive by a babbling brook (or “creek” as the Americans would have it), down a winding canyon of ever deepening impressiveness, light granite and limestone rocks in rugged display, offset by dark green ponderosa pines and pale green birches, under a mostly bright blue sky. In a couple of places, man has dammed the stream creating small ponds and then dry river beds for long stretches – rather sad. Eventually the canyon opens out and softens into a vale where the town of Spearfish nestles and our road rejoined the Interstate 90.

We followed that for a few miles through quite pleasant green grassland, broken by low hills and low red sandstone cliffs or bluffs, then turned off once more to investigate the Vore Buffalo Jump, which turned out to be a small hole in the ground into which ancient American Indian hunters used to drive herds of buffalo, thus achieving a huge return on investment of effort as they could kill lots of bison at one time and used every part of the dead beasts to improve their lives. The site was used for hunting by several tribes until about 1800, when it became obsolete, as they acquired the horse around that time (wild ponies, introduced by the Spanish, having migrated north across the plains) and this provided scope for better hunting techniques.

From there, we penetrated deeper into the Wyoming countryside, through the delightful Bell Fourche valley, to the Devil’s Tower, or, as various Indian tribes had called it, the Bear’s Lodge, an enormous great rock, sticking out of the plain with no apparent rhyme or reason, made of red granite or sandstone, coated in what appear to be lichens and sulphur, giving it varied colours. It also has a tubular structure. Its surface is corrugated and each corrugation seems to be a separate column of stone that, every now and then breaks off and tumbles down to the scree of boulders below. We also managed to photograph an interesting part of the rock that looked like a face. There were lots of rock doves, martins, turkey vultures and robins in evidence, plus a few other species I didn’t manage to recognise or diagnose. Before we got to it, though, we had to drive carefully past a prairie dog town, where the “little fellows” (as the National Park attendant denoted them) stood and watched us drive past. The sentries were much more concerned by the vultures than the cars.

Now our thoughts were turning to bedtime and food, so we setConnie to guide us to Buffalo, Wyoming, but after a long drive south on US14 and then a further stretch West on I90, we acknowledged the setting of the sun and pulled in at a Super 8 in Gillette, Wyoming. Our initial impressions of this city are dire: there is an open-cast coal mine nearby and an enormous cement works. The car park of the motel was completely populated with 4x4 pickup trucks and a gaggle of good ole boys, but we pulled in anyway and got ourselves a good ground-floor room in this establishment, owned by Khan Enterprises Inc.

We went out for a meal, stopping off in a liquor store in case we had to put up with another “family restaurant”, which always seem to be alcohol free, and bought a couple of bottles of plonk: the very same Rex Goliath 47 lb Rooster Cabernet Sauvignon, that cost me $14.99 plus sales tax in one New York wine shop and $10.99 in another just down the road, cost only $7.19 plus tax here. With this insurance policy in place, we started investigating places to eat. Granny’s Kitchen, opposite, which has been recommended by the lady in the liquor shop, was a dump. We actually looked inside but no waitress or waiter appeared to welcome us and the whole appearance was bleak, so we legged it and headed up 2nd Ave to Douglas, where we’d been advised there were a couple of decent places. As we began to despair of finding anywhere, we lit upon the Prime Rib Restaurant and Blue Martini Wine Bar and chanced our arm there. From the outside it didn’t look good but it claimed a few local awards … It turned out to have a comprehensive wine list that went on for several pages and included several bottles for over $1,000: indeed at least three cost $1,400. We settled for the Wild Horse Paso Robles Cabernet Sauvignon for a mere $27. Perfectly potable it proved too, accompanying a starter of mushrooms stuffed with crabmeat and cheese, followed by a fillet steak topped with black peppercorns and mango chutney for Bob and a halibut steak for Mary. The steak was a bit overdone for “medium rare” but only marginally so and was wonderfully tender, if a bit over-powered by the sauce. The vegetables, baby carrots and cauliflower, were excellent: still crisp, with not a trace of sogginess. In line with past diners at the restaurant we signed the label on our bottle of wine to be displayed amongst the many others around the restaurant. Our waitress had recently moved here from Denver to be with her fiancé: not a choice I think she’ll find easy to palate, but I could be wrong. Maybe there is a vigorous cultural scene in Gillette but it is not nearly as visible as in Sioux Falls or Rapid City, where at least the towns had some pretensions towards street art and architecture. Here there seems to be nothing worth keeping…

Well goodness knows what has gone wrong

2007-06-05T16:25:00.000-07:00

Not sure what is going on here, but I appear to have added the same day more than once. Have deleted one day, but left the two with comments.

Thank you to those who have visited my blog and those who have commented

Day 10

2007-06-03T04:43:00.000-07:00

Thursday 10th May 2007<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Now, where was I? Oh yes, the staff at the post office were much friendlier and more helpful than the New York ones, but they still told us off for not putting a return address on our envelope. What exactly would have been the point? We’re not returning to New York and a return address in England would have been useless. In the mean time we’re constantly on the move.

We followed that for a few miles through quite pleasant green grassland, broken by low hills and low red sandstone cliffs or bluffs, then turned off once more to investigate the Vore Buffalo Jump, which turned out to be a small hole in the ground into which ancient American Indian hunters used todrive herds of buffalo, thus achieving a huge return on investment of effort as they could kill lots of bison at one time and used every part of the dead beasts to improve their lives. The site was used for hunting by several tribes until about 1800, when it became obsolete, as they acquired the horse around that time (wild ponies, introduced by the Spanish, having migrated north across the plains) and this provided scope for better hunting techniques.

Now our thoughts were turning to bedtime and food, so we set Connie to guide us to Buffalo, Wyoming, but after a long drive south on US14 and then a further stretch West on I90, we acknowledged the setting of the sun and pulled in at a Super 8 in Gillette, Wyoming. Our initial impressions of this city are dire: there is an open-cast coal mine nearby and an enormous cement works. The car park of the motel was completely populated with 4x4 pickup trucks and a gaggle of good ole boys, but we pulled in anyway and got ourselves a good ground-floor room in this establishment, owned by Khan Enterprises Inc.

Day 10

2007-06-03T04:40:00.000-07:00

Thursday 10th May 2007<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Now, where was I? Oh yes, the staff at the post office were much friendlier and more helpful than the New York ones, but they still told us off for not putting a return address on our envelope. What exactly would have been the point? We’re not returning to New York and a return address in England would have been useless. In the mean time we’re constantly on the move.

We had a fascinating 40 minutes reading the material and watching a video in the visitors’ centre, which of course attempted to debunk all the wild west myths and build up the image of a worthy Victorian middle class that has persisted to this day, financing the town’s restoration by legalising gambling and subventing all gambling taxes to the Deadwood Restoration Society. They also questioned the relationshipbetween Wild Bill and Calamity Jane: apparently she hardly knew him even though she claimed that they had a sexual relationship. They also said she was nowhere near as attractive as any of the actresses that had portrayed her. We then had a snack in a casino, which was allegedly where Jack McCall had been arrested, (chicken strips for Mary, “Buffalo Burger” for me) and bored ourselves stupid trying to spend a dollar on a fruit machine. As soon as we thought we’d nearly lost it the bugger went and won nearly all our money back so we had to persevere till it was all lost.

We followed that for a few miles through quite pleasant green grassland, broken by low hills and low red sandstone cliffs or bluffs, then turned off once more to investigate the Vore Buffalo Jump, which turned out to be a small hole in the ground into which ancient American Indian hunters used to drive herdsof buffalo, thus achieving a huge return on investment of effort as they could kill lots of bison at one time and used every part of the dead beasts to improve their lives. The site was used for hunting by several tribes until about 1800, when it became obsolete, as they acquired the horse around that time (wild ponies, introduced by the Spanish, having migrated north across the plains) and this provided scope for better hunting techniques.

Now our thoughts were turning to bedtime and food, so we set Connie to guide us to Buffalo, Wyoming, but after a long drive south on US14 and then a further stretch West on I90, we acknowledged the setting of the sun and pulled in at a Super 8 in Gillette, Wyoming. Our initial impressions of this city are dire: there is an open-cast coal mine nearby and an enormous cement works. The car park of the motel was completely populated with 4x4 pickup trucks and a gaggle of good ole boys, but we pulled in anyway and got ourselves a good ground-floor room in this establishment, owned by Khan Enterprises Inc.

Day 9

2007-06-03T04:34:00.000-07:00

Wednesday 9th May 2007 <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Today was our first day devoted solely to sight-seeing. After breakfast, we booked another night in this extremely cheap but well-appointed motel, one of the America’s Best Value Inn chain, and then set off in search of Mt Rushmore, of the four presidential heads. This was found with no difficulty, given the extensive signage on the way, and through beautiful hilly country. The dark green conifers that I presume lend the Black Hills their name were leavened by fresh green growth on deciduous trees and outcrops of rugged granite.

The road winds attractively through 17 miles of such country before arriving at the fabled mountain, which has a new visitors’ center, packed with patriotic themes such as the reasons for the carving of the heads, the great deeds of the presidents represented and the sacrifices of those responsible for establishing and extending America’s role in promoting freedom throughout the world.

The four presidents are Washington, who founded the country, Jefferson, who “had the foresight” to make the Louisiana Purchase, Teddy Roosevelt, who established the National Park system and otherwise promoted rugged individualism, and Abraham Lincoln, who restored unity to the Union. They were very picturesque in the cloudless sky, and set in relief by the mid-day sun, especially their eyes, which were very cunningly carved. There was a beautifully filmed but rather leadenly produced and narrated film about the other side of Mount Rushmore – the natural beauty of the Black Hills and the ecological importance thereof. Mary also watched what she told me was an interesting video on how the carvings came about and the work that went into them over a period of some 40 or so years.

A parade of pillars carrying the flags of every member state and territory, together with their dates of admittance to the Union, where relevant, leads to a viewing platform above an amphitheatre and exhibition center. This provided several photo-opportunities. We also hit the information center where we bought 2 DVDs and a book about Crazy Horse. The DVDs were one about the Civil War and one about Mt Rushmore, Crazy Horse and the Black Hills.

After lunching on quite a good chilli for me and a rather inferior “chicken sandwich” for Mary, we left Rushmore and headed for Crazy Horse, stopping on the way to admire the profile of George Washington from a valley beside the mountain.

Crazy Horse was another 17 miles into the Black Hills, towards Custer Forest. This is a magnificent piece of work in progress, supported by a superb visitors’ center, consisting of exhibitions about Crazy Horse’s life and death, the lives of Sioux and other Plains Indians in general, and some of the other defenders of the Indian way of life such as Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce Indians of Idaho. Similar to the Mt Rushmore exhibition, the Crazy Horse exhibition spends a lot of its capital on the tale of the sculptor who was invited to undertake the project by the tribal elders of the Lakota people. He was a Polish American orphan, called Korczak Ziolkowski (visit http://www.crazyhorse.org/story/korczak.shtml for more information) who had also worked for the lead sculptor of the Mt Rushmore carvings. He began with virtually nothing ($174) and, with the eventual help of his wife and 10 children, the Sioux people and the generosity of donors, got as far as completing various models and blasting several thousand tons out of the mountain. He died in 1982, 33 years after starting the project, in the initial stages on his own, and has been honoured by the Indians with the name Brave Heart, we think. Crazy Horse’s face was only completed by his family in 1998. Now they’re working on blocking out the horse’s head and Crazy Horse’s head feather (which will be 40 foot high). The whole sculpture will be over 555 feet which will be taller than the Washington monument, which will make it the tallest memorial in America. It’s a grand tale of bloody-mindedness and devotion to a quasi-religious task in the face of almost insuperable problems. They refuse to take any government funding and insist that their work remain a charitable act of faith toward the Indian peoples.

Some of the art on display was wonderful but we would have no way of getting it home safely with all our other stuff, so we didn’t buy any. I did, however, have a pleasant chat with the Lakota author of a book about Crazy Horse, Ed McGaa, otherwise known as Man Eagle, and his daughter. We ended up getting an extra pictographic autograph in the book and a warm handshake from this former Marine pilot. Mary once more kindly paid for the book, as I was still cashless in the absence of any comforting acknowledgement from my bank of my communications concerning invalid transactions. We also took the bus tour to the bottom of the monument giving us another pictorial advantage, and also where we watched Marmots carvorting around and one sunning itself on the path.

Of course I had always fancied myself with an obedient partner so was pleased to be able to take this photo!!!

On the way home we popped into the Dances with Wolves (Fort Hayes) film set, but unfortunately the camera batteries had finally died after all the photos that had been taken, so we will try and re-visit there in the morning before we set off for pastures new.

Back down the mountains, in Rapid City, we stopped at a Wells Fargo drive-thru ATM and I risked my card once more. This time it meekly coughed up my cash, so presumably whatever problem I’d had in Washington has now been resolved.

Today, our journeys were musicless, short as they were, through scenery that engaged us enough. Yesterday, we were accompanied across S Dakota by John Martyn’s Grace and Danger, Bright Eyes’ Casadega, which fails to live up to its billing as Oberst’s answer to Blonde on Blonde, and SaRon Crenshaw’s Real Live in New York blues workouts, among other musical treats. Having failed to negotiate the correct turn onto the I90 we ended up in Explorer Street and drove around a housing development of varying degrees of wealth and deprivation.

Tomorrow, we’ll head north to Deadwood for more tourist attractions (including Kevin Costner’s Tatanka) and maybe penetrate into Wyoming, destination Yellowstone – but that’s still some way away. I expect that Mary’s iPod will rule the musical agenda once more.

Blog so far

2007-05-24T23:48:00.000-07:00

I am cutting and pasting my blog from Word 2003, and do not understand why there seems to be some text instructons in place that I have not put in, bear with me while I try and sort this

I am also going to try and get some photos in as we have taken some lovely ones on our journey - around 4000 now I should think

Day 7

2007-05-24T23:46:00.001-07:00

Monday 7th May 2007 <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Well today we set of West from Tomah (the entry to the Cranberry region) and went to find the <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Mississippi and ended up at La Crosse, where we hoped to get a paddle steamer ride up and down and river. Well, surprise, surprise it is not the tourist season here yet, so unless they could muster 10 bodies for a ride then the paddle steamers did not move. As the 11.00 am one had not gone due to the fact that there were only two of us, we were asked to hang around until 1.30 and if there were 10 then we would be off. We had also been alerted to the Blue Herons that were nesting on the opposite bank, so spent some time watching out for them.

Well we were off, in the direction of Winona, which was further up the Mississippi and we got some good views of the river. At Winona we finally discovered what a Hoagie was when we each ordered one for lunch; basically it was a soft bread roll sandwich. This we had a nice place called the Acoustic Café

Quite nice. Bob had not been happy about this detour as he wanted to head off west again with the intention of driving as far as possible in one day, but I thought the town was cute and took a few pictures for our album.

We had left the Sat Nav in the car window, but Bob reckoned it looked like a place without crime, so was not concerned, and yes it was still there when we got back from lunch. From Winona we took the road south to rejoin the I90, which then went through nicely wooded valleys and stopped unexpectedly at a rest area called Oakland Woods and Bob at last allowed me to drive. His eyes had got tired from the driving and he needed to rest. Whilst at the rest area we did a spot of bird watching. There was a bird feeder placed outside the back doors of the rest area and we watched several birds’ antics.

As we could not identify most of them Bob decided at the next opportunity that he would purchase an American bird book (which at present he is perusing to see if we can tell you what we saw).

I then took over the driving and managed to get around 200 miles under my belt, this included coming off the I90 twice for fuel, the first time the promised garage did not appear and the second time it did. Once at our destination – Sioux Falls - I then managed to negotiate the road system to the hotel and later the town to find something to eat. Once at the hotel, another Super 8, we were greeted by an English lady with “I’m Liverpool, what are you?” which was a bit disconcerting. She had come here some 28 years ago to visit her war bride sister, and had never gone home. Married to an American with two children she now lived some 35 miles from the hotel, which we have now come to realise means – just down the road. Realising that we were English, she took us under her wing and organised the next couple of days of our tour and decided where it would be best for us to visit. Out and about in Sioux Falls in the evening we finally decided on the Outback for our evening meal. We ordered Vienna Filet Steaks and were they delicious, I have to say mine was better than the one I had in Chicago at Smith and Wollensky – when I said I wanted medium to well done without charring they got it right, whereas the previous steak had been charred, which, for parts of it, made it rather chewy. This was accompanied by a fine bottle of wine. We also had a starter of a “bloomin’ onion” which was highly spiced and absolutely delicious. Half of it we took away in a take out box, and put it into the fridge of the hotel, where it is probably still languishing unless they checked the fridge. Yes – we forgot to take it with us today for our picnic lunch.

A voice now pops up – we definitely saw a Rose Breasted Grosbeak, a White Breasted Nut Hatch, Black Capped Chickadee, Red Bellied Woodpecker and warblers which he has been unable to identify.

Day 8

2007-05-24T23:46:00.000-07:00

Tuesday 8th May 2007<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Suitably fortified from a reasonable night’s sleep, first I had to deal with a load of email hassle from work. Then Bob took over the driving again. Armed with various instructions from the hotel manager – Anne – we went off to <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Falls Park to see the water falls and surrounding countryside. This was rather fraught as the road we wanted was closed and the diversion signs were not explicit. What has amazed us is the fact that when the Americans say they are doing road works, what they mean is they are digging the whole road up and re-doing it, not just patching it in the way we do in the UK.

We eventually found our way to Sioux Falls and were impressed with the sights it had to offer, the way the waters fell, the tourist information centre and so on.

We were allowed onto the viewing tower free of charge on the condition we signed the visitors’ book, and, of course, on learning that we were from England, the desk clerks demanded that we give an explanation of Bob’s six months secondment in New York and our month’s holiday traveling around USA. After a good walk around we once again got into the car and headed toward our next destination, which was Kadoka, via an enormous Barnes and Noble so that Bob could buy a bird book. Naturally we bought lots more than that, including disgraceful chocolate cookies/cup cakes and coffee and tea. Bob’s been reading his Blues magazine while I typed this.

On the way to Kadoka, we stopped at Mitchell, which boasted the only Corn Palace in the world. They have a whole building whose façade is made of corn. Twelve different colours of corn are grown especially for this project (sweetcorn) along with wheat, rye etc. Each year they have a different theme and around May they start to make the new display. This year’s theme is the Rodeo. Inside the museum you could see pictures for most years since they started this project. The first museum was pulled down because it was not big enough, the second one because it was made of wood and buildings are no longer allowed to be made of just wood. The current building is steel and concrete with the corn on the outside. Apparently corn (sweetcorn) is cut in half long ways and affixed to the building with a nail. It costs approx 130,000 dollars per year to do this (approx 70,000 pounds), most of which they get back by using the building as a theatre, graduation centre, boxing arena and so on, along with public donations).

After leaving Mitchell we once again headed onto the I90 until we reached Kadoka, where we then dropped onto the Badlands loop. Up until then the scenery had been flat and pretty boring, causing me to sleep, It had been hot in the car and both Bob and I appear to be sunburnt through the windscreen. The Badlands loop was fantastic, although when I got out to take photos my knees went weak when Bob mentioned the fact that there were signs that said beware of Rattlesnakes. For those who know me, one of my biggest hates is snakes. Most people think it is because they can be poisonous, but in fact it is the way they move that makes me feel so ill. So I let Bob go off with the camera. I made sure I had the car keys – just in case. I managed to get some good photos from my vantage point, and left him to take ones in snake territory!!.

Connie Garman, by now, had become completely confused and was trying to send us East, instead of West and we ended up traveling around 10 miles on unmade roads, before re-programming her finally got us going back toward Rapid City which was to be our destination this evening (some 450 miles since leaving Sioux Falls). On arrival here we checked into our pre-booked hotel (done by Anne at Sioux Falls). We immediately went to Chilis next door for a meal, which was very good. Our starter was a Nino Margarita, followed by Margarita Chicken for me and Baby Back Ribs (Kentucky Bourbon style) for Bob, washed down with red wine. The whole meal cost no more than 67 dollars.

Day 6

2007-05-24T23:40:00.000-07:00

Sunday 6th May 2007<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

We got up about 10:30 and breakfasted on trail bars and coffee, finally clearing the room at just after noon. We had agreed to take a bus tour or river trip, and to spend the next couple of days doing more sightseeing than driving, but Mary sensed that Bob was impatient to get on the road again, so that’s what we did. It was easy enough finding the I-90 but Connie soon got cross with us when we were unable to join the ExpressWay, which was closed. We were able to stay on the Local I-90 and she was eventually assuaged, taking us out past O’Hare Airport towards <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Rockford Illinois on the I-90/I-94. I’m sure it’s famous for something but can’t remember what. After Rockford, we headed N, still on the I-90, but now also on the I-39, towards Madison, Wisconsin, and thence NW past the Wisconsin Dells to Tomah, Wisconsin, where the I90 and I-94 part company. The countryside was again bland for the most part but occasionally relieved by the odd hill, wood, lake or river.

There are a few “tourist features” along this route, such as factory outlets, ski-slopes, Disney-style or Butlins-style holiday resorts, but nothing much of real interest until we suddenly came across Castle Rock, a strangely shaped pillar of weather-beaten limestone standing beside the freeway. We stopped there to have a quick look around and shortly after found our bed for the night at the Super 8 at Tomah, on J143 (Highway 21 and I-94). This gave us time to look around the area, buy some wine and try the local “Four Star Family Restaurant”, whose “Roast Pork Dinner” was virtually unrecognisable as such, being braised pork on a bed of a vast quantity of indeterminate stuffing, smothered in glutinous and bland-tasting gravy, accompanied by tinned mixed veg and a baked potato that had seen better days. My soup was nothing to write home about either, although Mary had said hers was good, but the water was nice. This was the first really disappointing meal of our trip so far… but at $14.95 for the two of us, who’s surprised?

Then it was back to the motel to catch up on internet activities and reading. Tomorrow – the Mississippi and beyond …We’re glad we took this Northern route as we’ve avoided the twisters that wreaking havoc in Oklahoma and Kansas, where the small town of Greensburg has been obliterated. Our weather is overcast and calm with temperature in the low 60s F at present.