Where
O Where is Winter-Spring?...
Our democracy is broken. This society's sensibilities are
sickening. Too much lead in the water? Corn syrup in the
soda? Smog in the air? Is stupidity caused by global
warming? Or the other way round? That is a question worthy
of some research.
Jim B. writes: “H.H.R. has you well trained I fear. She
keeps bringing you new toys and gets her jollies watching
you play with them until you lose them outside, whereupon
she bolts out her door to fetch you another. Humans are so
much fun to watch.” (Thanks Jim for your astute
observation.)
Speaking of
lifestyle... Look for Some
Turtles Have Nice Shells
24 April Roadside Cleanup
 Putting
to good use all that I have learnt from The Friends of
Saddle Mountain. The one mile section of two-lane blacktop
leading into El Rancho Lobo is straight and well aligned
with the prevailing wind..
2016iv29 A Note To My Doctor
Just to update you... Back a few weeks ago (dates are a
matter of record somewhere...) I went to visit a
Dermatologist of your recommendation to have a couple of
spots looked at. Several spots were eradicated with a blast
of liquid nitrogen and a slice of one on my right shoulder
was removed for further study. The biopsy returned a few
days later indicated melanoma insitu.
Now I am on assignment in Deming NM and have an appointment
18th May to get acquainted with a Plastic Surgeon in Las
Cruces and have this melanoma excised. I'm sure it will be a
taxing experience.
May The Fourth Be With You...
What do you suppose the boy is holding in his left hand
whilst he waits for his knowing mother to finish reading
Yertle The Turtle?
One correspondent replied: “The fold in the blanket makes it
rather obvious. Do you think that was a conscious effort on
the part of the artist?” As George Carlin put it: “If God
had intended for us not to masturbate, he would have made
our arms shorter.” I like to think that the answer to
your question is, yes. The look on the mother's face tells
it all. I think she is curious and knowing and jealous all
at the same time.
...Followed by Sinko de Mayo
Ever heard the jarring storey about the container ship
containing salad dressing lost in the Bermuda Triangle
during Hurricane Hazel?
And The Set Ends With...
The Revenge of The Sixth. Gust-O-Metre topped out at 46mph.
Visibility reduced to less than six miles in dust with
drifting and blowing lawn furniture. Everything outside that
wasn't tied down is someplace else now. I've been
learning how to be a responsible Camp Host—not easy when one
is in my present state of mind. Slows me down a bit. Just
think: If Trump wins the election it'll be the first time in
history that a billionaire moved into public housing vacated
by a black family. (Thank you Ms Shaw.)
Defying The Laws of Physics
Who
was it promulgated the Law that 0 x 0 = Nil Naut
nothing 0 Zero Zilch Nada? Now I am off duty as Camp
Host. Turned the golf cart and the receipt book over to my
counterpart—we traded Weeks: I'm Off, she's On. All during
my On Week I have things to do: The Daily Do List (clean the
bathroom, arrange the magazines, sweep the patio, feed the
birds...), the Weekly Do List (plug in the golf cart
charger, wash the laundry floor, read the kWh meters...),
and my own Do List(s) of writing letters, cleaning rugs,
washing dishes, making Haiku towels, indulging my ham radio
hobby... not to mention long term projects such as prepping
for Field Day, researching new tyres for The Cat Drag'd
Inn, itinerary for 2017 Eclipse Expedition, yet
another TV antenna experiment, writing code for my
website...
But Sunday, in BOLD letters, is the day for my
Do Nothing List. This Do Nothing List is kept in a secret
drawer, known only to Not Me, and secured with a lost key,
just to prevent anything being added. Despite all these
precautions the nothings on the Do Nothing List manage to
multiply. Nothing times Nothing equals SomethingElse, thus
defying what you learnt in Multiplication Grade and keeping
me off the RTTY contest all day long.
Captions on cartoons in a doctor's office:
 From
The New Yorker: Imagine an
elderly woman in a hospital bed with a clutch of
relatives standing around with the doctor: “We can't pull
the plug. We're all still on her insurance.”
I can relate to this one: Doctor of Bladderology to an
elderly male patient: “Good news Mr Goodyear, its just a
slow leak.”
And my venerable Mum could relate to this one: Doctor to a
patient sitting on the exam table with a bandage tied around
his finger: “Its a very minor injury. If it weren't for a
potential lawsuit I'd just kiss it and make it better.”
Remember
Charlie! ...on The eM Tea Aaaay.
The present plan--to depart from somewhere, AridZona about
June/July, motor north to
Driggs Idaho, and return (perhaps via Pie Town) by the
end of August, is wanting for $ome $upport and a few
companions to make it most fun (and economical). Along the
Way there are hot springs for soaking, canyons for hiking,
Yellowstone N.P., Four Corners, and all sorts of other
places depending where you might have relatives.
The Cat Drag'd Inn can accommodate several small/young
unschoolers and it would be nice to have another sort of
adult along to help with the mentoring and the housekeeping.
Whinging-TV-addict-couch-potatoes need not apply (Unless
they promise to leave their iGameWhatevers at home).
Prospective travellers should know (or at least be willing
to learn) how to play Cat's Cradle, wash dishes, like beans
and peanut butter (but not necessarily in the same
sandwich), and they should know how to read aloud and follow
a road map. Prospective
$pon$or$ need not have any of the above
qualifications.
So, gentle readers, here is your invitation: "Eccentric
Outlaw with ESL Certificate available to mentor Unschooler
Travellers on a voyage of discovery
and adventure. If you are a small Human and would like
to travel aboard The Cat Drag'd Inn on this upcoming
tour, or, if you are a small adult--but not yet a
grown-up--and would like to travel with us, or if you care
to sponsor a student to travel in your stead, write me.
Write now. Donations
may be sent via PayPal. 
All that and I totally missed sending Towel Day
Greetings. Sorry about that and thank you to Nancy
& Jack for their reminder.
Shopping in Las Cruces with Captain Hook. In the east bound
rest area on i10 overlooking Las Cruces there is a giant
roadrunner sculpture. I passed by
here in 2009 on my Way to elsewhere, just east of
between hither and yon.
Memorial Day
Memorialising the maudlin sentimentality of all the
handwringing over the poor soldiers who have given their
lives for the aggrandizement of American imperialism. I can
see honouring those who were conscripted, however the people
who volunteered deserve no more “honouring” than the people
who are killed by drunk drivers whilst commuting on the
beltway to their mundane jobs. If you really
supported the troops you wouldn't send them to far-away
places to fight other peoples' meaningless wars based on
lies.
Mad Hatters Tea Party (by the British calendar)
Today I am spending money on antique truck parts to rebuild
the steering linkage. One thing parts have in common: Boat,s
planes, and antique autos/trucks/buses; parts are exempt
from competition.
Summer has arrived with a vengeance to the Continental
Divide.
101f was the high on the 19th of June. Interestingly, the
low was 41f that same day--highest and lowest for the week.
Over the past few weeks I've been shopping for new tyres for
The Cat Drag'd Inn, negotiating with my medical
insurance for "out of area coverage", finding and buying
parts for which I've been searching for years for the
steering linkage of this antique bus, and doing Camp Host
chores at El Rancho Lobo in Deming New Mexico. Since the
last time I put new tyres on this bus they have nearly
doubled in price. But my income is still about the same.
Something is wrong with this picture.
One of the things about fine print in the rear of insurance
policies is they contain all the limits, conditions, and
exclusions, as opposed to all the features which are blatant
on the front cover. The limit in the case of my policy with
Cigna is the one which says NFG outside of Maricopa County
AridZona.
The steering linkage of this old bus (like the old house in
the song) is worn and loose and held together with bailing
wire. Parts are not available in your usual auto parts
store; no matter, there are no part numbers anyhow and we
all know you can't buy a part without a part number. After
years of searching I have finally located a dealer who deals
in antique trucks and buses and who can recognise a part by
sight and usage. Let us hope he is correct.
I set out on this adventure to migrate by a different route,
to engage some different activities, learn some new tasks.
Captain Hook suggested El Rancho Lobo where working as Camp
Host for Mr & Mrs Wolf would answer to all my desires.
Except for the wind. And the dust. El Rancho Lobo is a
quaint little RV park on the eastern outskirts of Deming New
Mexico. My tasks include checking guests in and out, and
cleaning up after, filling a dozen bird feeders, sorting the
incoming mail, and keeping my shorts on. That last, of
course, is the most onerous part.
Kinky Boots the movie just became Kinky Boots
the stage show musical play. At least I just found out about
it.
Google Censors
On the page(s) at Great
Art Classical Nude Google was censoring what I am
allowed to see. Some images were replaced by an exclamation
mark or a hyphen in a circle.
A letter to the owner of the page resulted in a conversation
with Google and the owner responded: Other 'viewers' have
informed me of this problem. I can assure you that it has
nothing to do with me. There now seems to be no problem -
but there was a period, a short while ago, when this site,
and other sites featuring the work of Vittorio Carvelli were
interfered with. I have informed Google, and they have
assured me that things have been put right. Thank you for
your comment, and keep us informed.
Or chronic nose bleeds. One of my latest tiffs with the
medical system: Took my bleeding nose to an urgent care
place in Deming looking to have the bad spot cauterized.
They don't do that procedure--go to the ER around the
corner. By the time I got to the ER my nose was no longer
bleeding. Not an emergency, they said, come back when your
nose is bleeding and we'll have a look. Of course
if I make it bleed then, my paranoia index cautions, they
will prob'ly lock me up for self-inflicted injury...
Leaving Deming for Higher Ground
Good flight from Deming except for the "Thunder Lube" place.
Those guys are dangerous. I'm not sure what to do about it
but they need to be slapped upside the head. I didn't pay
any much attention when they lubed my truck but I will have
to look more closely now. When I brought in the bus I gave
the guy a chart showing the location of all the zirks. He
looked at it briefly, as if to memorize the plan, and then
tossed it aside and set about randomly poking at various
zirks: whatever he could see easily, never used a rag to
clean the zirk, skipped from here to there. The floor was
clean so I laid down to watch as he went about his work. He
never put in enough grease to fill a bearing. Just
squirt-squirt and move to the next. Some he never touched.
One in particular I had to help with. I'll have to redo the
entire job my Self later.
And that was just the front end. He couldn't get to the rear
end. Rear of the Bus wouldn't fit into the shop bay and his
hose is not long enough to reach beyond the ends of his pit.
Simmer Solstice at the Intersection of The CDT and
U.S.60
In the view from Nita's Not Tub the Summer Solstice Sun
rises just about one solar disk's width to the north of a
certain power pole off there to the northeast. Now, a week
after Solstice, the sun is rising directly behind that power
pole; already a few degrees on her Way to rendezvous with
The Teeth at Autumnal Equinox.
All Down Hill to The Pie Festival
From here to there is about nine weeks. The dough rollers
are oiling the bearings of their rolling pins and ironing
their aprons. Talk around the Transfer Station concerns
butter v.s lard and lattice crust v.s crumb (and the sub-set
of that: raw sugar v.s white).
Jewel asks: Does pie qua Pie Town pie, make one fat? I keep
thinking it doesn't.
Certainly you would like to believe that, eh? My answer is
that the fatnicity of any given pie (or slice thereof) is
somewhat proportional to how far you walk to get such pie.
The relationship is akin to Pi(D x S)/R where D=Distance
Walked and S=Speed and R=Number of Rest Stops along the Way.
There is also a T function in there where T=Time between
slices however the place and power of that factor can be
determined only by empirical study and thus far the grant
funding that research has been denied on the grounds that
such research is frivolous and tasteless.
Melanoma in Situ, 19 July
Steven writes: “what is up with the cancer? Clothing can
help prevent that, lol !” ...now they tell me... So also can
walking help prevent auto accidents and taking the train
help prevent plane crashes. Oh well. We pays our money and
we makes our choices.
I'm back. Arrived here about 22 hours after we left. Long
drive from Pie Town to Avondale, west of PHX. Stupid
insurance rules made it necessary to drive 600 miles in
order to save 600 dollars. Must have rained here whilst I
was gone, there was 0.04" in the rain gauge this morning
after the operation.
After my second doctor visit--nose cauterized and aspirin
regimen cancelled--I went to Lowe's on the next block east
to find candelabra bulbs and then Fry's across the street
for extensive shopping to use up all manner of spend money
to save money coupons. There are no Fry's (Kroger) Markets
anywhere near Pie Town—the last one, a Smith's, in Socorro,
closed last Winter so now I have to travel miles and miles
to save money with these coupons they mail me.
Shopping took me over an hour. Fry's is remodeling. Bad
enough the layout of each of their stores is unique but this
one was under reconstruction as well. What a rat race trying
to find things. The Schwepps was not with the house brand
mixers in the liquor aisle but over with the cranberry juice
three aisles away. They had B&J's chocolate but not
coffee. And they did have dry ice. Well anyhow... Out of
there finally and to my surprise, around the corner was an
Albertson's so I went there and found B&J's coffee (but
no chocolate) and then up the street a few blocks to use my
Fry's shopping bonus points to fuel at 2$08.
Finally east bound in the going-home traffic outbound along
with everyone else escaping from PHX. At each junction the
traffic grew thinner and faster and the sun lower in the
sky. Twenty-some miles up highway 87 there had been an
accident that started a brush fire—there were at least
fifteen forest service fire trucks there and twice that many
crew mopping up. At Payson I stopped for coffee and a
sandwich. Drank more coffee that day than in a week of
living "at home". Lights on now. Full dark by the time I got
to Show Low. Somewhere along there coming around a corner
and down a hill there happened a great white blinding flash!
I think I got snapped by some speed trap doing 45 in a 40
zone. Or maybe it was 50 in a 45 zone. Stopped in Show Low
at 21h30 and napped for three hours.
On and off rain when I continued east on u.s.60. I followed
one ambulance for a while figuring if there was anything in
the road then they would hit it first. Stopped in
Springerville just to walk around and stretch. Then into New
Mexico. Phone and GPS update their Time Zones. All manner of
wildlife on the road. Narrowly missed two elk, who were on
the left side of the road headed away so I didn't get to see
the whites of their eyes, and one stupid people, wearing
dark clothes, walking with the traffic on my side; I didn't
see them/it until actually abreast.
More rain. Enough to run the wipers and make puddles but by
the time I turned off on the driveway to The Cat Drag'd
Inn the surface was dry. Intermittent light rain
continued through what was left of the night. Except perhaps
for one traffic ticket this adventure has a successful
conclusion. I've never been trapped for "speeding" before
so, not that I did it on purpose, that is one more line item
to scratch off my Bucket List.
There's Gonna Be A Heat Wave...
I prefer gator-aid. In the old daze, before designer
waters, we had salt tablets to restore electrolytes. Once
upon a long ago, before I'd had adequate first aid and
second aid training, I led a like for several kids into the
Grand Canyon. What the hell... the round trip from the South
Rim campground down to Phantom Ranch on the Colorado River
and return to camp was about the same mileage and elevation
as a similar hike on Mount Washington in NH and we'd all
done that more than once.
We made the descent as far as Indian Springs Oasis by mid
morning and were already suffering the effect of dehydration
despite imbibing copious water on the trail. Several kids
had headaches, I had a wicked headache. We drank more water,
took a short walk out to the inner rim to look down at the
river, drank more water, napped in the shade, drank more
water, and got progressively more lethargic. The picture
herewith is of the group with some other hikers under the
shelter of an overhang at the lip of the inner rim. We don't
look too hurting there but we were waiting until the trail
up would be shaded from the afternoon sun before we would
attempt to ascend.
Along about then, back at the oasis, one of the mule train
excursions came through. They stop for lunch in the shade
with the picnic tables and all the patrons dig into their
box lunches. I was seriously considering calling for a mule
train rescue at that point when by some leap of faith,
divine intervention, ah-ha! discovery, came to the
conclusion that it was not water we needed--or a mule
train--it was salt! After the patrons remounted and departed
we rummaged through the trash cans for the remains of their
lunch. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Salt
packets and apples were retrieved and we ate our fill. Just
some salt on one's tongue tasted delicious as long as one
needs salt. When the salt began to lose its savor then
you've had enough. We took the remainder with us and now
refreshed and reinvigorated, practically ran up the trail to
the top.
That was then and this is now. Here on the Continental
Divide daytime temperatures have been ranging from 55f to
85f. No sweat. Pie Fest is about four weeks away. And this
letter is about two months late.
|
2016, Summer-Fall -- Greetings Virtual
Travellers & Pen Friends: 
I do not know what I may appear to
the world; but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy
playing on the seashore, and diverting myself in now and then
finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary,
whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before
me.