tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45629026581481799032024-03-10T23:28:23.323-07:00Living the Journeynomadic and bookish adventuresKate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.comBlogger706125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-27008022871481940112023-12-30T16:55:00.000-08:002023-12-30T22:42:29.330-08:00Housesitting in Mazatlan, Guanajuato & San Miguel de Allende<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtc3KCHHlj_hWQ_tQuR0gPnawTNGs2P1EvlERtUmkK0berr4zlxCHR-TbXz6UGgIbxX18FxOR2mXAyBdrV_CZLpu54baJ95QQeRTacmtwdPdNFMKNAQ5RdY-orhZK_OK_BZoa_Ji8CoGyRe69me4vwxP4daz5Bmy1LN4zg1rFaNk1B7hejbXiopu_5w5fV/s2048/maz%20pool.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtc3KCHHlj_hWQ_tQuR0gPnawTNGs2P1EvlERtUmkK0berr4zlxCHR-TbXz6UGgIbxX18FxOR2mXAyBdrV_CZLpu54baJ95QQeRTacmtwdPdNFMKNAQ5RdY-orhZK_OK_BZoa_Ji8CoGyRe69me4vwxP4daz5Bmy1LN4zg1rFaNk1B7hejbXiopu_5w5fV/w400-h300/maz%20pool.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our private pool for a month.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Three months on the mainland of Mexico without paying for a single night of lodging? That's the world of housesitting! As I write about in <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Wanderland-Kate-Evans/dp/1960326139/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2CLJONJDV24UB&keywords=wanderland+kate+evans&qid=1682543954&sprefix=wanderland+kate+evans%2Caps%2C248&sr=8-1" target="_blank">Wanderland: Living the Traveling Life</a>, </i>we've been doing this for a decade, and we get sits through various websites and referrals.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Our first stop was Mazatlan for a month, starting in mid-August. This was an unusual housesit: a five-unit complex. The owners rent out spaces during high season (fall/winter/spring)--and in the summer, they want someone there to keep an eye on the place. We stayed in a two-bedroom apartment, our responsibilities to pay the pool cleaner (with the owners' cash) and check the units for leaks after a downpour. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Yes, it was hot and humid, reminding me of Southeast Asia. That pool was a godsend, and since we were the only ones there, swim time was clothing-optional.</span></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAhfADMu-uX5LAGkxD80hfLcX7LejXdHZIinzf2FdTZ-5rfKbPZ53uRYb9pJlG07TecSyG31fkn2DLFXUcX67LiseMMUPd_YtwX_65T2OWETOsLE_00vSMjVl-JaPpVNp7bLiKjvOTiV8vDAkA28uktZl0WaJ1Ry6hK_jmb2GGJ4UuoOAfVy2HiuPxkcww/s2048/Maz.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAhfADMu-uX5LAGkxD80hfLcX7LejXdHZIinzf2FdTZ-5rfKbPZ53uRYb9pJlG07TecSyG31fkn2DLFXUcX67LiseMMUPd_YtwX_65T2OWETOsLE_00vSMjVl-JaPpVNp7bLiKjvOTiV8vDAkA28uktZl0WaJ1Ry6hK_jmb2GGJ4UuoOAfVy2HiuPxkcww/w400-h300/Maz.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking along the malecon.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The location at Olas Altas ("High Waves") was amazing. We were close to the malecon, the biggest water-front esplanade in all of Mexico at 13 miles long. Many mornings I'd walk down the malecon with other walkers, joggers, inline skaters, and bicyclists. </span></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrIbb1cFuxLEOxXJIznKC7xjwSrozafZzVeD0EXZPyA_AGrVbPX-aKlAlYuf0HiQKnsbBYSM7jBjq7IJR7uHdFsD0mRUK6dDyLldCvpG-KUADUVxKRPhEgX0bDegHKItGjD7HMyi2MwpsbTOpGzPOg17flG0l-XmW8FLkGfin4H7xl-6ZB6uHE63krdjQh/s2048/mazatlan%20zumba.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrIbb1cFuxLEOxXJIznKC7xjwSrozafZzVeD0EXZPyA_AGrVbPX-aKlAlYuf0HiQKnsbBYSM7jBjq7IJR7uHdFsD0mRUK6dDyLldCvpG-KUADUVxKRPhEgX0bDegHKItGjD7HMyi2MwpsbTOpGzPOg17flG0l-XmW8FLkGfin4H7xl-6ZB6uHE63krdjQh/w300-h400/mazatlan%20zumba.jpg" width="300"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zumba in Mazatlan!</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">After a mile walk, passing fishermen offering fresh catches and beaches with morning swimmers, I'd meet up with a large group of Mexican women and two super-entertaining male teachers for a Zumba class. While we danced, waves offered a cooling spray. Afterward, I'd try to overcome my shyness by speaking in Spanish. The last thing I've ever been accused of is being shy, but being in another culture and trying to speak another language changes my personality.</span></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8KnM7tUy7VvnC-acwhzhj7nk-eSK6ALGtDa7kpER8CEMkbN4FGhDZ2prPSqXmTS_WaMrfsvl0WvS7kb7jf62wqDPoMLNB4xqlSTUfTjfw3BBrduYOAL7nIOC_SZyifP2aJGi6ehqLcMovchu4-iY1OnqbNHf6volf1wA41o4KT39pLRZO6dSZFjrqBPN/s2048/maz2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1514" data-original-width="2048" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8KnM7tUy7VvnC-acwhzhj7nk-eSK6ALGtDa7kpER8CEMkbN4FGhDZ2prPSqXmTS_WaMrfsvl0WvS7kb7jf62wqDPoMLNB4xqlSTUfTjfw3BBrduYOAL7nIOC_SZyifP2aJGi6ehqLcMovchu4-iY1OnqbNHf6volf1wA41o4KT39pLRZO6dSZFjrqBPN/w400-h296/maz2.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mariachis on the night streets.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We were also close to Mazatlan's Old Town, a picturesque compendium of 19-century buildings, plazas, and restaurants--and a huge mercado where we bought fresh produce. If we didn't feel like walking back, we'd hail a pulmonia, taxis that are cute souped-up golf carts. Strangely, "pulmonia" means pneumonia, drawn from the idea that riding in an open-air vehicle can give you a cold. Odd PR--but super fun!</span></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm-Na9bkT7BhNqitQeAGgHuEPb7bVA43zM52NNRhGtHqtCHEtHSMmFVTW8Qksm3hjBzkwhVcPOrj1CjIATj7cns_Esbj6R2PL_J_eIkezO3aFEyK34DNJZp6ezYadP-_peKMPaMSbgnMYJUVjwiw1ayN3RH6C5rpDq3TgGjfDonuUYsLA5b2UpzylpduL8/s2048/maz%20sunset%20mal.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm-Na9bkT7BhNqitQeAGgHuEPb7bVA43zM52NNRhGtHqtCHEtHSMmFVTW8Qksm3hjBzkwhVcPOrj1CjIATj7cns_Esbj6R2PL_J_eIkezO3aFEyK34DNJZp6ezYadP-_peKMPaMSbgnMYJUVjwiw1ayN3RH6C5rpDq3TgGjfDonuUYsLA5b2UpzylpduL8/w400-h300/maz%20sunset%20mal.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset on the malecon.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We got this gig through Eden, who lived nomadically for many years but has now happily settled in Mazatlan with her husband. She introduced us to her friends Carol and Alex, who are from the Bay Area, close to where Dave and I used to live. They became our new BFFs. We had a blast wandering around with them, going out to eat, playing cards, and watching sunset on the malecon that bustled with families late into the night. Dave and Carol met up for yoga a few times a week as well. </span></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMqHwsGGIkWXXsx5PP8JvH7_seatdyHE4EppfKbYG9omcC1SxO8_mlyYYdHHYsUUejy5c2qzNy1Q4pmBtHtDaDsH-KCClOAH5L3qvmIhl6-kTNo6AmoN02F_zyGuqK0AJ3bL4NTZvBOqsACsN2pQhuSQ-CSEQyce_wwBRJxxslxwc8K7hLBNaity8shDZy/s2048/alex%20and%20carol.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMqHwsGGIkWXXsx5PP8JvH7_seatdyHE4EppfKbYG9omcC1SxO8_mlyYYdHHYsUUejy5c2qzNy1Q4pmBtHtDaDsH-KCClOAH5L3qvmIhl6-kTNo6AmoN02F_zyGuqK0AJ3bL4NTZvBOqsACsN2pQhuSQ-CSEQyce_wwBRJxxslxwc8K7hLBNaity8shDZy/w400-h300/alex%20and%20carol.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Carol & Alex</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Next stop was Guanajuato, a beautiful mountain colonial town. It's the capital city of the state of Guanajuato in Central Mexico. Formerly a mining town, its streets are narrow and winding and it has underground tunnels you can drive through. At 6500-foot elevation, it was much cooler there...which also meant gasping for breath while walking the steep streets. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI1XrE9lOHqtqSCcjS4jB0KuafKChxQYQ3ra9x3R5uEG7u-kNQCBcdxZ7fVgj7mlCI5fMUDYGHD7OaphSjQteGgM8Oh_ZBnViC3JKI1smLw0ZKyiQEqHrMoInIqOQIbGgU8Y3HdhxjKiq2B2Tm7tHLtXbSA-_hQ_oo5esC7tBmhQSY1WI3BPr7FoeZAB6M/s2048/nate%20jodie.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI1XrE9lOHqtqSCcjS4jB0KuafKChxQYQ3ra9x3R5uEG7u-kNQCBcdxZ7fVgj7mlCI5fMUDYGHD7OaphSjQteGgM8Oh_ZBnViC3JKI1smLw0ZKyiQEqHrMoInIqOQIbGgU8Y3HdhxjKiq2B2Tm7tHLtXbSA-_hQ_oo5esC7tBmhQSY1WI3BPr7FoeZAB6M/w400-h300/nate%20jodie.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Nat & Jodie in the mining hills.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Fortunately, a small funicular could haul us back up the mountain, since we were staying at the very top, in a darling apartment near the <a href="https://theculturetrip.com/north-america/mexico/articles/el-pipila-meet-the-revolutionary-guardian-of-guanajuato" target="_blank">Pipila monument</a>, with a vast view of the colorful city. Nat and Jodie, housesitters par excellence, hooked us up with the gig and showed us around the city, including their favorite taco cart. They were full-time nomads for years but now are settled down in their favorite place in Mexico. </span></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1T-PkYScLx3wgs_QiTDksMoiZyCjluw0GKv3q7nCk8CJylurYRYQ4SMLDBlARLZgCSnyL1Wvt2qh4aaDEAn0kUmsWoYMRfuKWIyS0te_5-KjjQppUz-P3EzKOEd1Znj3is02fe6mY3rTtVCzo9wPlwiW5gEub1WQUNWPSx94X9oYH_ghHiDecJ2ywLSk/s2048/gu%20city.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1T-PkYScLx3wgs_QiTDksMoiZyCjluw0GKv3q7nCk8CJylurYRYQ4SMLDBlARLZgCSnyL1Wvt2qh4aaDEAn0kUmsWoYMRfuKWIyS0te_5-KjjQppUz-P3EzKOEd1Znj3is02fe6mY3rTtVCzo9wPlwiW5gEub1WQUNWPSx94X9oYH_ghHiDecJ2ywLSk/w400-h300/gu%20city.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our view</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;">I fell in love with wandering around the city on foot, stumbling across musicians and dancers in the streets, people-watching in the shady parks, and stopping into cafes and bookstores. While there are people everywhere of all ages, Guanajuato is a university town, so there's also lots of young energy. </span></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTlrTUL00d6QDuAjVfP_dhudoK_6PT0FKBsIj-Fa8RiebMoum1T2bnNXPlV4By9Vao8F8AhDJwtCUSBofWrsP5bz1VNj3GeTswF9x4RnxURYG_IwJam6xvLrloE1h5k_5HMshzA_lErV4yRCZ9pvdIpMwLzxl5r3ebPUJgkdVwJf2T-68OG49awPloYk6i/s1440/guanjuiato%20mural.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTlrTUL00d6QDuAjVfP_dhudoK_6PT0FKBsIj-Fa8RiebMoum1T2bnNXPlV4By9Vao8F8AhDJwtCUSBofWrsP5bz1VNj3GeTswF9x4RnxURYG_IwJam6xvLrloE1h5k_5HMshzA_lErV4yRCZ9pvdIpMwLzxl5r3ebPUJgkdVwJf2T-68OG49awPloYk6i/w400-h400/guanjuiato%20mural.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guanajuato</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It's famous for having a collection of disinterred mummies. But we skipped that "entertainment" and instead were drawn to the house where Diego Rivera and his twin brother (who died at age two) were born. It's now a museum with a labyrinth of exhibits, a collection of his works and preliminary sketches. I was entranced by this photo:</span></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOoRGq5MRIbXmXpjmSHM89YzhHvtJVPMN-u-5KAlZapsw7qw1xiPfzrElOaXDswp8X79yHgRIilHooZY3fO4QpCNpe-5RgV17QeDLjB8qaj3GPbRulh6Ny4k_THoXbXPXfbAf5ph0awpUMexm0bBkf5qdU1dVd8hpHmKsKJl4vfJhyphenhyphenIQTRIW7edmaf-WOH/s2048/guanajuato.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1682" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOoRGq5MRIbXmXpjmSHM89YzhHvtJVPMN-u-5KAlZapsw7qw1xiPfzrElOaXDswp8X79yHgRIilHooZY3fO4QpCNpe-5RgV17QeDLjB8qaj3GPbRulh6Ny4k_THoXbXPXfbAf5ph0awpUMexm0bBkf5qdU1dVd8hpHmKsKJl4vfJhyphenhyphenIQTRIW7edmaf-WOH/w329-h400/guanajuato.jpg" width="329"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Diego & Frida</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I easily could have stayed there longer, but next we were headed 50 miles east to San Miguel de Allende for six weeks. I know a lot of people who fell in love-at-first-sight with this UNESCO world heritage site, famous for its grand, colonial architecture and arts scene. Spoiler: While I enjoyed our time there, I wasn't as drawn to it as Mazatlan and Guanajuato, mainly because the cobblestone streets and narrow sidewalks are difficult to walk on and don't allow for as much lively outdoor public space. However, there's no question it's beautiful.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglGnsQCX7k6ZuRCVNEjy3-Jf_4tOlViRiYlM0hURDkx8By69m43wB0uDTN9euV7yDrcZmQ08LCZBX6GSl_5FitVSmKq3B_LIVUMA0no6CI_4H6ktuTYl-LPLSZTM64S0bHqKHGTRaVGXjpoxBLGxtrP1Xt8fMgvhhh2c0PC2uAhGiwM_vK6VJF59pRmQCt/s2048/Ernie%20&%20Billie.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglGnsQCX7k6ZuRCVNEjy3-Jf_4tOlViRiYlM0hURDkx8By69m43wB0uDTN9euV7yDrcZmQ08LCZBX6GSl_5FitVSmKq3B_LIVUMA0no6CI_4H6ktuTYl-LPLSZTM64S0bHqKHGTRaVGXjpoxBLGxtrP1Xt8fMgvhhh2c0PC2uAhGiwM_vK6VJF59pRmQCt/w400-h300/Ernie%20&%20Billie.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our roomies for a week.</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">Our first sit was a week in a sprawling home with all the amenities. It was outside of downtown, but the homeowners--who were easy to befriend--let us use their car. We took care of two darling dogs, which meant only feeding and loving on them because they had a dog walker. There was also a housecleaner, a woman I enjoyed talking with in Spanish. </span><p></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL3iA9s10rrrDW_DS64WD17c4aR9r5TaQaXg_JwhI8NqvNm-jGBAbzPn-VfhMXY8wk6qXNm5S4ZCo2h3t6_eJMd5FJFwpITiy99uY-23OlQAVqMmr7N7MnUMIfxncx-g1fb45chN1nAXxcXU-RKTAhszylZf-JgipZbaW5shyrof_wk1adCRW35ve47vx4/s2048/Main%20square%20sma.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL3iA9s10rrrDW_DS64WD17c4aR9r5TaQaXg_JwhI8NqvNm-jGBAbzPn-VfhMXY8wk6qXNm5S4ZCo2h3t6_eJMd5FJFwpITiy99uY-23OlQAVqMmr7N7MnUMIfxncx-g1fb45chN1nAXxcXU-RKTAhszylZf-JgipZbaW5shyrof_wk1adCRW35ve47vx4/w400-h300/Main%20square%20sma.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Indigenous parade</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2moWlB68rVEe_n65Dsg5yekWgSs6uZFZcyew1rfXjH4yI3BuxwsnkLC9FVVJ1ZDYHQ92eDYovuA5dcSBbptC-W1ovHAgVBy7dJ1fwLcGwnsfA-srItbOjtJx-wMKaOrTJ-Nm1O6wJczf3L_wlwMyxffJ9TCSi946MQR4vShIT4ty_RwkugmGi_jNqyuC9/s2048/ddm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1846" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2moWlB68rVEe_n65Dsg5yekWgSs6uZFZcyew1rfXjH4yI3BuxwsnkLC9FVVJ1ZDYHQ92eDYovuA5dcSBbptC-W1ovHAgVBy7dJ1fwLcGwnsfA-srItbOjtJx-wMKaOrTJ-Nm1O6wJczf3L_wlwMyxffJ9TCSi946MQR4vShIT4ty_RwkugmGi_jNqyuC9/w360-h400/ddm.jpg" width="360"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just a sample of the proliferation of Dia de Los Muertos fun.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Our next sit, for five weeks, had its ups and downs. Even though this one also included a car, we didn't have to drive much because we could walk everywhere: restaurants, shops, and El Jardin (the main tree-lined plaza). I could even stroll to Zumba at a nearby park. The gorgeous house was constructed of stone and was oddly cold. At least 10 degrees colder than outside. We wished we'd brought warmer clothes. When I was frozen to the bone, I'd hop in the hot tub, so I can't complain too loudly.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYScWmvM31eEBMa6EjpR9WgnWpEqSYlziYExkWuAg6te85O2LTvF1CGrcVAHp0yEQ_TtP5XdhiNVJLpMNkAmRMMc0OSJ0P9P2V3q3E-rGMJHKbpNCAeAbC6K2TV46_OEN5-_LgVqetqJ73n2fl2e9H-TmR2Ew6pkV87p7F_nxAur300vGBfDl6OKz-MVVg/s2048/Bodhi.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYScWmvM31eEBMa6EjpR9WgnWpEqSYlziYExkWuAg6te85O2LTvF1CGrcVAHp0yEQ_TtP5XdhiNVJLpMNkAmRMMc0OSJ0P9P2V3q3E-rGMJHKbpNCAeAbC6K2TV46_OEN5-_LgVqetqJ73n2fl2e9H-TmR2Ew6pkV87p7F_nxAur300vGBfDl6OKz-MVVg/w400-h300/Bodhi.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He loved Dave but not strangers.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The dogs, while adorable, were having some issues; they could be aggressive with each other and strangers. Fortunately, the homeowner hired a dog trainer to work with them. Still, handling their needs meant San Miguel was feeling less like vacation than our other sits.</span></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimBP0X44WmyWK_-idZpUAy3IpqBF-9lUHacUWoUWk3-MAlz6x8sYrQjYdwTPcL86fCt2cSaEPSQpxsD5zg9veC1htT5miwIJUppeMlnrL3h1iG446wXCxhWufuLVM7ZMzynCN0D_o0SZ8UQnU3kr-n6TJEJGnTfkx73g_XqbZ8rLdOXR1Fb3VVfEScdQ8e/s2048/centro%20sma.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimBP0X44WmyWK_-idZpUAy3IpqBF-9lUHacUWoUWk3-MAlz6x8sYrQjYdwTPcL86fCt2cSaEPSQpxsD5zg9veC1htT5miwIJUppeMlnrL3h1iG446wXCxhWufuLVM7ZMzynCN0D_o0SZ8UQnU3kr-n6TJEJGnTfkx73g_XqbZ8rLdOXR1Fb3VVfEScdQ8e/w400-h300/centro%20sma.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">so colorful</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We were lucky to be there during the colorful Dia de Los Muertos festivities. In fact, September through October was a time of multiple festivals, with all kinds of events, parades, and our least favorite part, ear-splitting fireworks before dawn.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqXGA5JuyJgbgeKssj5QI2CBIX1M-7RwzecGC5olqF0Ag5UvUesfURp_MGQzAj-1T554YiEl-_a2klbynXQyhMzVEydrMYKw0MiUIk4v_inJEf3L-Vu1t5LOc6QuYcApuvxVRkhRaktHIfr1U3RARBsdncOV5ykQLuEIMavY3TmY8DpYSKdwtz6LpiBZx/s2048/Baja%20meetup.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1491" data-original-width="2048" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqXGA5JuyJgbgeKssj5QI2CBIX1M-7RwzecGC5olqF0Ag5UvUesfURp_MGQzAj-1T554YiEl-_a2klbynXQyhMzVEydrMYKw0MiUIk4v_inJEf3L-Vu1t5LOc6QuYcApuvxVRkhRaktHIfr1U3RARBsdncOV5ykQLuEIMavY3TmY8DpYSKdwtz6LpiBZx/w400-h291/Baja%20meetup.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nomads...and a few peeps I know from other lives!</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZkmzsd6EWyMnytNKGGgiTxoqIXPeKIXI4asePX7djMM41mdDlbG8f8Rq6ihgArYyDPDB_in2WS7ocktnbc0Z_vi47j253GGYo1CTXonO9-zh6Cz6xV1LS1O2tX_UhFmcP4LVIQc22fzOvlrnsijMnllNtntNKonrdBRM4keHtaudJKJ-Ah66mQu68Mqg/s2048/housesitters%20meetup.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZkmzsd6EWyMnytNKGGgiTxoqIXPeKIXI4asePX7djMM41mdDlbG8f8Rq6ihgArYyDPDB_in2WS7ocktnbc0Z_vi47j253GGYo1CTXonO9-zh6Cz6xV1LS1O2tX_UhFmcP4LVIQc22fzOvlrnsijMnllNtntNKonrdBRM4keHtaudJKJ-Ah66mQu68Mqg/w400-h300/housesitters%20meetup.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fiesta with housesitters.<br><br></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span><div><span style="font-size: large;">We met a lot people from all over the world and were invited to a party one night for live music, belly dancers, and the most beautiful, haunting flamenco singer and dancer. We also had a few meet-ups with travelers and friends old and new.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh0dyhORIucKM9hR_Oa_Jd_8ocROzbe7rAJ7fQwRsdhzltwtymeEExmVcsxJLfuuWkrvcZHbOlkfn3ePOs9rZ4Cbr8P5ks34GBR2EIAXB1N0ghYx3pKew-7lEvWwVGGjXqR5yj5VWEGTnq9eRrUyrd5Cm4w2o8mrGQM53WJkpKO2r3t0pvXITEazhB8f47/s2048/flamenco.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh0dyhORIucKM9hR_Oa_Jd_8ocROzbe7rAJ7fQwRsdhzltwtymeEExmVcsxJLfuuWkrvcZHbOlkfn3ePOs9rZ4Cbr8P5ks34GBR2EIAXB1N0ghYx3pKew-7lEvWwVGGjXqR5yj5VWEGTnq9eRrUyrd5Cm4w2o8mrGQM53WJkpKO2r3t0pvXITEazhB8f47/w400-h266/flamenco.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flamenco dancer </td></tr></tbody></table><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzNDKtt02uunmaBwTY1F9J0Lge0OurHH2BSZJ0bSQdG1TG-i5RWkWLvKKw3M4CDhKJdSOjuQ_FZh7KuSMOsfnCHM6enyzqGn_TfTs9tfDtvExqnZcHb5FfJnJMpWIbXnszUcUBmQu883-qpbehCewYTjRTTCnn7883gS6BfO33dEXPSW0R3IjTwyEhz53V/s2048/street%20tacos.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzNDKtt02uunmaBwTY1F9J0Lge0OurHH2BSZJ0bSQdG1TG-i5RWkWLvKKw3M4CDhKJdSOjuQ_FZh7KuSMOsfnCHM6enyzqGn_TfTs9tfDtvExqnZcHb5FfJnJMpWIbXnszUcUBmQu883-qpbehCewYTjRTTCnn7883gS6BfO33dEXPSW0R3IjTwyEhz53V/w400-h300/street%20tacos.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There are lots of fancy restaurants in SMA, but our favorite food was at this taco stand.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">One day we walked down a long street lined with stands selling a profuse array of flowers and shiny objects to place on headstones. It led to a huge public cemetery, like a ghost city in miniature, where people honored their ancestors by cleaning and decorating their graves. Music played and a full Catholic service was in action, with a priest offering communion. I felt like there we experienced the true meaning of Dia de los Muertos.</span></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirps42ATHPtrZsCtnG1l8mc8Pw0bpLBvC6MQrJ_GyiFfvYG_8wzY9b7hsq0aXIaOKurX3ANBxzIGkTQQDynzDkOD9itc8QW0CsN-8XAZGxCgLtTk6gC200lmp0mdanqnu9TzdBr87U_vyKgCeylfd9O3cbFNN2JCnJAnV_V1kklYSeqVkip5Nh73BX6dsq/s2048/flowers%20sma.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1362" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirps42ATHPtrZsCtnG1l8mc8Pw0bpLBvC6MQrJ_GyiFfvYG_8wzY9b7hsq0aXIaOKurX3ANBxzIGkTQQDynzDkOD9itc8QW0CsN-8XAZGxCgLtTk6gC200lmp0mdanqnu9TzdBr87U_vyKgCeylfd9O3cbFNN2JCnJAnV_V1kklYSeqVkip5Nh73BX6dsq/w400-h266/flowers%20sma.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My favorite outing was La Gruta spa, about 30 minutes outside town, for some thermal springs rejuvenation. We next went to nearby Atotonilco, part of a World Heritage site, a religious complex built in the 18th century. The interior of the sanctuary features murals, sculptures, inscriptions, and oil paintings in Mexican folk baroque and indigenous styles. I hadn't seen anything like it since I was in Italy--and later I discovered it's been called the "Sistine Chapel of Mexico."</span></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmJQST5EC4Z_w_KZLt3gRUSWfpZnbzRr9zG4VGqtcD0T-N_-ZOrgG5lIhkU1AO6gOtYVZRMbaNkUAcK76-INmA7_G-S1w5KpYgJC22-TZS0VkJ3B_xAXrJ_FZLAdLLRzvvVoTphCunC59INmVgivN8xGsvdyT5YN_SN3Pyps-qE0U4qUFfdXX0Jg3WOvNu/s2048/gruta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmJQST5EC4Z_w_KZLt3gRUSWfpZnbzRr9zG4VGqtcD0T-N_-ZOrgG5lIhkU1AO6gOtYVZRMbaNkUAcK76-INmA7_G-S1w5KpYgJC22-TZS0VkJ3B_xAXrJ_FZLAdLLRzvvVoTphCunC59INmVgivN8xGsvdyT5YN_SN3Pyps-qE0U4qUFfdXX0Jg3WOvNu/w400-h300/gruta.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">La Gruta</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br></div><br><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg355UTLFzWXqLEwklYsGFkbJn1gF1NLXkL7VCm-GfuYtH0PzKb6mK_-zJz8VtFdcDHb4P427Lt0uBVoQ-NUETsg9G7gKggTX1-i8nR43lNfi-156nK7OHLXwYUt511OHhNCcSu6G_SaYlPFVZHAEliSxwAgyigIT4EspmGvXf5H0wKgo62K_QKsQ_fI6MH/s2048/atontonilco.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg355UTLFzWXqLEwklYsGFkbJn1gF1NLXkL7VCm-GfuYtH0PzKb6mK_-zJz8VtFdcDHb4P427Lt0uBVoQ-NUETsg9G7gKggTX1-i8nR43lNfi-156nK7OHLXwYUt511OHhNCcSu6G_SaYlPFVZHAEliSxwAgyigIT4EspmGvXf5H0wKgo62K_QKsQ_fI6MH/w400-h300/atontonilco.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Mexican Sistine Chapel"</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In the pueblo we stopped for phenomenal tacos made by two sisters. A couple sitting near us, who have lived in the area for years, confirmed that we'd stumbled onto the best street tacos in the whole area.</span></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyn7zyNPHlR32j6Xy6JL85n9z46Fhpp9GfO4PEcLQh7-x6zRGa79ujoLvD3dXeHluejIv40uWsc8C_4DSEaHd83fP2XAHVKY4PLO58x6VSmSaqim7ay9M4k0-Z4CYvt0elB0Gck-mh1pTazsjcoKSZAaSfarDZMvXD9auX7_wCs7AlWH-ONSF4yhvx8mIJ/s2048/Tacos.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyn7zyNPHlR32j6Xy6JL85n9z46Fhpp9GfO4PEcLQh7-x6zRGa79ujoLvD3dXeHluejIv40uWsc8C_4DSEaHd83fP2XAHVKY4PLO58x6VSmSaqim7ay9M4k0-Z4CYvt0elB0Gck-mh1pTazsjcoKSZAaSfarDZMvXD9auX7_wCs7AlWH-ONSF4yhvx8mIJ/w400-h300/Tacos.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">que rico!</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My other favorite thing was this: When I posted on a San Miguel de Allende Facebook page asking about Zumba classes, I got an offer to join a class at a private home. Of course, I jumped on that! Turns out that Vail and her mom started having the teacher come to them during the pandemic and never stopped. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKa2vh0EzbsJxB4HDHz8KT439Dn7Bo9jDzS2hKoUXWwAkxZmAfwF_y78d15YklyAkw-0cgKRz7vWxCP3Fc5GBw4AfyJtP4WmLbH14Wh0BbYIr-5ZJ3pQ1jcO4SxmhUSMwuTov8TwMiPDONUWmOTwaciaoHccUnjI-I6GOdZM0K8HD5TVxVSECN85xr5cYy/s2048/vail.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1449" data-original-width="2048" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKa2vh0EzbsJxB4HDHz8KT439Dn7Bo9jDzS2hKoUXWwAkxZmAfwF_y78d15YklyAkw-0cgKRz7vWxCP3Fc5GBw4AfyJtP4WmLbH14Wh0BbYIr-5ZJ3pQ1jcO4SxmhUSMwuTov8TwMiPDONUWmOTwaciaoHccUnjI-I6GOdZM0K8HD5TVxVSECN85xr5cYy/w400-h283/vail.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zumba at Vail's</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Vail has lived in Mexico for 30 years and is married to a Mexican man. She's also writing a book. So we made an exchange: Spanish lessons for an edit of her manuscript. Now that I'm home, we're meeting once a week on Zoom. She also threw in a food and history tour for Dave and me, since she runs the company. We enjoyed tasting food in five different spots and learning about the history of the city.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">I'm grateful that housesitting makes it possible for us to live in so many places, trying out so many lives.</span><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div></div>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-84293426282470084802023-10-16T13:45:00.005-07:002023-10-16T19:15:20.989-07:00The Goddess Tour<p><span style="font-size: large;">I write this from an upstairs loft in a home in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. This is our last stop on a three-city visit to the mainland. We wanted to get to know Mexico better by spending a month in Mazatlan, a week in Guanajuato, and six weeks here. <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Wanderland-Kate-Evans/dp/1960326139/?_encoding=UTF8&pd_rd_w=a8jvZ&content-id=amzn1.sym.5f7e0a27-49c0-47d3-80b2-fd9271d863ca%3Aamzn1.symc.e5c80209-769f-4ade-a325-2eaec14b8e0e&pf_rd_p=5f7e0a27-49c0-47d3-80b2-fd9271d863ca&pf_rd_r=ME538AB2MEJH3VVFA435&pd_rd_wg=pywhp&pd_rd_r=941db2a7-075a-4d76-8c74-e3edbff7213a&ref_=pd_gw_ci_mcx_mr_hp_atf_m" target="_blank">Housesitting</a> has made this type of adventure possible.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In my next blog, I will write about my impressions. But first I'll back up and share how, before we flew to the mainland, we did a "staycation" sit in Baja at Los Barriles, a community on the Sea of Cortez, 90 minutes from our house at <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2015/02/baja-life.html" target="_blank">Cerritos</a>.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHqzUgtNlNcTbi9MllV9LS7Lc7P3mKmhhh8GXEig1RcG9YCYuCZxp_B_SAnOV_InxfthGjH05Msz1U3UR5lJofrJR9Yrfs1DjuiktwMo3kkicgUi4sZDPhMh5bEA6ysnD3sImtTqdBA4Uj7qMMuP4DkQf6V9Qyy0jUBuRM4nmJcDf8GE28eLg-jjGxR250/s2048/LB%20dogs.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHqzUgtNlNcTbi9MllV9LS7Lc7P3mKmhhh8GXEig1RcG9YCYuCZxp_B_SAnOV_InxfthGjH05Msz1U3UR5lJofrJR9Yrfs1DjuiktwMo3kkicgUi4sZDPhMh5bEA6ysnD3sImtTqdBA4Uj7qMMuP4DkQf6V9Qyy0jUBuRM4nmJcDf8GE28eLg-jjGxR250/w400-h266/LB%20dogs.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to go!</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">These three cuties are Sunny, Happy & Colorado. Each morning they'd jump into the fat-tired golf cart for a 5-minute ride to the beach. The water was so calm and warm, I'd also often a swim.</span></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5WiEuxMhMnAFngm6suqha1nFVv6i1rhJijvqlk51ykpLnmCcvCnncabbkohj9_7kC1Qv0hBn6j3bi7G-rAxfOX7qnveCC0MFViW4vAfdnH__IHj1eayHMaj5MDUv14ExiTREo6t3K26jH5z8h02N98yffIHXbLbkHlely-omBOj4r7P5mGRmHrTYtkpaY/s1080/LB%20sea%20of%20cortez.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="1080" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5WiEuxMhMnAFngm6suqha1nFVv6i1rhJijvqlk51ykpLnmCcvCnncabbkohj9_7kC1Qv0hBn6j3bi7G-rAxfOX7qnveCC0MFViW4vAfdnH__IHj1eayHMaj5MDUv14ExiTREo6t3K26jH5z8h02N98yffIHXbLbkHlely-omBOj4r7P5mGRmHrTYtkpaY/w400-h300/LB%20sea%20of%20cortez.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mermaid doing a ballet leg in the Sea of Cortez</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We also cared for Roberto, the tortoise, who lived in the bedroom closet and would wander out each day. I'd take him outside for a big plate of fresh fruits and veggies. And that's not all: there were three outdoor cats to care for (and feed raw food, a gross process that involved pulling apart and deboning by hand a bunch of butcher trimmings and entrails. Thank god Dave dealt with it because the process made me gag). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21KbzGk-wEhn5VyQtPCUwBFWnChv79fAw-ZpIEXm8q5OufUshVwYCeSxbRbIQqxu1DvLAsTMCfyYcpyLNnEdfXVTYyPJGuiaOeNC5L1p580FrXspc-AKiy7ZvMZFEPuFcj4aOImYikMI7E83i6nICV2AkPiOI1TiZ6o2OB0AS6evqfFUkxhMlK7PewmBn/s960/LB%20Roberto.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi21KbzGk-wEhn5VyQtPCUwBFWnChv79fAw-ZpIEXm8q5OufUshVwYCeSxbRbIQqxu1DvLAsTMCfyYcpyLNnEdfXVTYyPJGuiaOeNC5L1p580FrXspc-AKiy7ZvMZFEPuFcj4aOImYikMI7E83i6nICV2AkPiOI1TiZ6o2OB0AS6evqfFUkxhMlK7PewmBn/w400-h300/LB%20Roberto.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roberto</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">We normally don't take sits that involve so many pets, but being that this was close to home and in a great location for two weeks, we decided to jump in. We're glad we did because the beachy community was fun to explore in any of the three offroad vehicles.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A few weeks later, we flew to California for another housesit for two weeks so we could attend my sister Crystal's wedding. Housesitting came to the rescue again as we had a beautiful home to stay in that whole time, up the street from our friends Shannon and Tony in Solana Beach.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkAuf9asFTpHLgfoz5B425gOO2FyExMhPV0a2JGcud6acWcCbyPkEbmHiAUDzcSkL4vbu6pecwIhm6n9L7GT3bmE1fBNezf3uRMCHQQ-aFkRtWksmCi16KRWyRVK8pBsDf7fgBFmzRFytn-hDzhEV7xyvYWHiXLF9tGp5LVZBglj5pnhdAgtOEYBJ3ky1m/s2048/solana%20beach%20dog.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkAuf9asFTpHLgfoz5B425gOO2FyExMhPV0a2JGcud6acWcCbyPkEbmHiAUDzcSkL4vbu6pecwIhm6n9L7GT3bmE1fBNezf3uRMCHQQ-aFkRtWksmCi16KRWyRVK8pBsDf7fgBFmzRFytn-hDzhEV7xyvYWHiXLF9tGp5LVZBglj5pnhdAgtOEYBJ3ky1m/w400-h300/solana%20beach%20dog.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This rascal ate one of my shoes.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;">One of the dogs was barely a year old--cute as a bug and just about as pesky. We took a lot of walks through the hilly neighborhood and down to the beach. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The homeowners let us use their car, which came in handy when I needed to drive south about 30 minutes for the wedding rehearsal. As the officiant, my attendance was crucial. The wedding the next day was perfection. I couldn't have been happier for my sister--and to welcome Kristian into our family. We all took a ferry from downtown San Diego to Cornado for vows on the beach followed by two days of parties. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Y-V3Okbs3XZ3JmgiZfI4bzMeBuFi3LdKPrnj1LJTxq2WQJoo7G5mPM40lJN679hvmPHxEPsWBO9otNOu8Mn02J9zabfTWPF_m56W5aCCcwCSESqk4vWEbwFFyGe7QrMn73jaFboMvoJL4GBIU4986wf4pWl6PJbv3CijMnsNFtj2eqXzLHlZ7kOwVt9Z/s2048/Crystal%20wedding.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1643" data-original-width="2048" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Y-V3Okbs3XZ3JmgiZfI4bzMeBuFi3LdKPrnj1LJTxq2WQJoo7G5mPM40lJN679hvmPHxEPsWBO9otNOu8Mn02J9zabfTWPF_m56W5aCCcwCSESqk4vWEbwFFyGe7QrMn73jaFboMvoJL4GBIU4986wf4pWl6PJbv3CijMnsNFtj2eqXzLHlZ7kOwVt9Z/w400-h321/Crystal%20wedding.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crystal & Kristian with their four kids.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A few days later, Dave headed back to Baja while I embarked on a self-made <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Wanderland-Kate-Evans/dp/1960326139/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2VH2MS70LLD57&keywords=wanderland+kate+evans+book&qid=1697484277&sprefix=wanderland+kate+eva%2Caps%2C288&sr=8-1" target="_blank">book tour-</a>-which he coined the Goddess Tour, since it featured a coven of remarkable women. I'd planned stops to visit friends all along the way, using flight credits that were about to expire.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The first event filled Shannon's north county San Diego home with energized people and an elaborate display of food, including cookies the color of the book's cover! After I spoke and read a few pages, one person asked: "How did you talk your husband into living a traveling life?" Truth is, I didn't have to convince him of anything. Our nomadic desires bloomed simultaneously. Pure luck, because when we first met, we were both working long hours. I couldn't have imagined the life we live now.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjDary8HcnwSXsLFN_S2FSbRzJbGatYcqp7dmHnkFEuy-vnn5aZuShg9T8LsQi8XD_msIpOFKwBNJzCIHZjmAdDkKFRgn-ZkbnQaso3rZ707cgMilIoyQJLku_mi0yhp8EJtYTadRq8yDo4zHS5H4K1o3jhYy4WCBabNvQLmwQmRpPskPbopYBVuAhcLSQ/s2048/Shannon%20sd.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjDary8HcnwSXsLFN_S2FSbRzJbGatYcqp7dmHnkFEuy-vnn5aZuShg9T8LsQi8XD_msIpOFKwBNJzCIHZjmAdDkKFRgn-ZkbnQaso3rZ707cgMilIoyQJLku_mi0yhp8EJtYTadRq8yDo4zHS5H4K1o3jhYy4WCBabNvQLmwQmRpPskPbopYBVuAhcLSQ/w300-h400/Shannon%20sd.jpg" width="300"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with Shannon and turquoise cookies</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Next stop was San Jose, California, where I expected to pick up my box of books from Mark's house to take to Santa Cruz for my public reading. But...no box. The following day I had resigned myself to a book-less event when I received a call from Mark that the box had arrived. San Jose is at least 45 minutes away, and often longer when dealing with perilous Highway 17--so I thanked him but said he didn't need to come. However, minutes before we were to start, my savior walked through the door. </span></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBG17NYkiKrsM2X3tQt6S2HRL-EqI895pXBYyBIUN7bEd3llMg5-ZvTZOWxKXrMUKda_JY023oXY5DhrXsmZmb-k67VjaswX_O7asSYcG0rHLjMug8fIOls3-g1KSzkoYizttMWG32mIoEFglsMN9MET5PpX5sEkJhNl6NgIFe7WM40FVmrSoc0I56T4CA/s2048/Mark%20with%20books!.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBG17NYkiKrsM2X3tQt6S2HRL-EqI895pXBYyBIUN7bEd3llMg5-ZvTZOWxKXrMUKda_JY023oXY5DhrXsmZmb-k67VjaswX_O7asSYcG0rHLjMug8fIOls3-g1KSzkoYizttMWG32mIoEFglsMN9MET5PpX5sEkJhNl6NgIFe7WM40FVmrSoc0I56T4CA/w400-h300/Mark%20with%20books!.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Extra special delivery!</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Another sweet moment involving that door was when four shiny people I'd met at a transformative <a href="https://www.meawisdom.com/" target="_blank">retreat in Baja</a> surprised me with their appearance. Can you tell how happy we are to be reunited?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-EryvwF2MEfkt-RQ_J3IcDQi50-6v6XHcPlVsDvSYl8z1UVl84z_zrc5tLb3YleeoJEdQEVtLB-xVVmfinvjR4vm4Q7NbQah-OXPclRZBS-E5pBt17ajpwfGmP-CKCAGySWZ6ZquLFrjaVSVC6U4S9MT7Yy7szke3U55H9RjoHGc1CvwVg8xFs9KcpYy/s1600/julia,%20mike%20mea%20peeps.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3-EryvwF2MEfkt-RQ_J3IcDQi50-6v6XHcPlVsDvSYl8z1UVl84z_zrc5tLb3YleeoJEdQEVtLB-xVVmfinvjR4vm4Q7NbQah-OXPclRZBS-E5pBt17ajpwfGmP-CKCAGySWZ6ZquLFrjaVSVC6U4S9MT7Yy7szke3U55H9RjoHGc1CvwVg8xFs9KcpYy/w400-h300/julia,%20mike%20mea%20peeps.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alex, Mike, Lisa, me & Julia--all aglow</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Gratefully, we had a full house at the downtown public library for <a href="https://santacruzpl.libcal.com/event/10700258" target="_blank">"Three Memoirs & Music."</a> I'd put out a call on a memoir writers' online group, and <a href="http://www.denamoes.com/" target="_blank">Dena Moes</a> & <a href="https://www.andrearosswriter.com/" target="_blank">Andrea Ross</a>--who also have connections to Santa Cruz--jumped in. As did my friend Sweeney's fantastic musical duo, <a href="https://winterlark.com/epk" target="_blank">Winterlark</a>. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9BQ2ZlSrkbqIxuVzACd701G8qi4WMX5HcPM0cLHWDcRhP0uzcGaL_kPo_MKBeYMZhaOoFJ7K6u13dML5V5e1eQRRm8wGnQzeay3hmHEzhxujtsHs_9HRkOm1XmDbtnraKeg9ujvP7024KeS-zOlSPmLlzjTswpiZjltl_GF-tJM8hAU4MK-N4G75gR4XO/s2048/andrea%20and%20dena.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9BQ2ZlSrkbqIxuVzACd701G8qi4WMX5HcPM0cLHWDcRhP0uzcGaL_kPo_MKBeYMZhaOoFJ7K6u13dML5V5e1eQRRm8wGnQzeay3hmHEzhxujtsHs_9HRkOm1XmDbtnraKeg9ujvP7024KeS-zOlSPmLlzjTswpiZjltl_GF-tJM8hAU4MK-N4G75gR4XO/w400-h300/andrea%20and%20dena.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The happy memoirists</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My short time in the Bay Area included spending time with friends old and new--the former being this beloved crew:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GxhAbP7MhhUK-Axdq0WkllTZHmxGSvumUBeZP3B_X6NaBiXUzFQJaHI3QCqvMk9wrNEcy1huyEMhF6PQh2qOsHz-ewH0mHqIe_toxJ7N2T17_oONFioQ08yGzR_yCK0BLzlR5cK0KrE18OkSk1NmpPTvdjaKbqjPTvWzo68bap2wQQDl7o8dlmu5JL1G/s2048/SJ%20dinner.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1580" data-original-width="2048" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GxhAbP7MhhUK-Axdq0WkllTZHmxGSvumUBeZP3B_X6NaBiXUzFQJaHI3QCqvMk9wrNEcy1huyEMhF6PQh2qOsHz-ewH0mHqIe_toxJ7N2T17_oONFioQ08yGzR_yCK0BLzlR5cK0KrE18OkSk1NmpPTvdjaKbqjPTvWzo68bap2wQQDl7o8dlmu5JL1G/w400-h309/SJ%20dinner.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Memorable times with my beloved Stacey, Kelly & Terry and their son.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">--and the latter being Carla King who is also a traveling writer. Unlike me, though, she is mechanically inclined, as made clear in her wonderful <a href="https://www.amazon.com/American-Borders-Breakdowns-Small-around-ebook/dp/B0035RPG5O/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3HI0Q59Y24K0C&keywords=american+borders+carla+king&qid=1697479348&s=digital-text&sprefix=american+borders+carla+king%2Cdigital-text%2C147&sr=1-1" target="_blank">motorcycle adventures memoir</a>. She also teaches people how to <a href="https://selfpubbootcamp.com/" target="_blank">self-publish</a>.</span></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBgYc2C4_a4IF0_MLkchDpEKbOQWLyBais_nzzK6gCJO29aYSlMC35J7fh6vCSFNtl5O2NevSH6vb1-E-OQQGWFSV_LLZFJ7JjaRI6aZpHrVbpFT7924SnC4xDLANPnxvIwsvwellki2KCtMLoIU5dWBimG44Cx9SsIab765tlw-YftIDKleR5ZY8Jb2Om/s2048/carla%20king.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBgYc2C4_a4IF0_MLkchDpEKbOQWLyBais_nzzK6gCJO29aYSlMC35J7fh6vCSFNtl5O2NevSH6vb1-E-OQQGWFSV_LLZFJ7JjaRI6aZpHrVbpFT7924SnC4xDLANPnxvIwsvwellki2KCtMLoIU5dWBimG44Cx9SsIab765tlw-YftIDKleR5ZY8Jb2Om/w400-h300/carla%20king.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The two traveling memoirists in Santa Cruz</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">An aside: I was introduced to Carla by my longtime amiga <a href="https://www.cathleenmiller.info/about" target="_blank">Cathy Miller</a>. We recently co-authored a piece about working together on our books. Check it out <a href="https://www.wow-womenonwriting.com/95-FE-Tag-Team-Editors.html?fbclid=IwAR1pBmxxBC_rznf4kX9M_cTN5XjiWKGJz5bVS4bwB3oz6dB7RWMQ24N-Dz4" target="_blank">here</a>:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="https://www.wow-womenonwriting.com/95-FE-Tag-Team-Editors.html?fbclid=IwAR1pBmxxBC_rznf4kX9M_cTN5XjiWKGJz5bVS4bwB3oz6dB7RWMQ24N-Dz4" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1244" data-original-width="1247" height="399" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPuRN4MSUoapAHLOrL7On413iIr_Wr4Q7f_tbweG6IzXpdhJuC6T5eDRn-kr0xPagKqzEs1w21kjjR4M7m5RmiQZmhzJqHcOZbEk5ayu6sjRJ5jxJoDqWdbDazndK70WcjgkF3_6zW5z9rV2WK83KTpn6CKjBZqSB_ggs6R9wFQzGtKKJysD49S84ikOYt/w400-h399/tag%20team%20eidtors.jpg" width="400"></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cathy was indispensable in my writing of <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Wanderland-Kate-Evans/dp/1960326139/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2VH2MS70LLD57&keywords=wanderland+kate+evans+book&qid=1697484277&sprefix=wanderland+kate+eva%2Caps%2C288&sr=8-1" target="_blank">Wanderland</a></i></td></tr></tbody></table><br><p><span style="font-size: large;">Next I flew to Tuscon, where <a href="https://www.danakillion.com/" target="_blank">Dana Killion</a>--whom I'd connected with in the aforementioned online memoirist's group--had generously invited me (a stranger!) to stay a few days. She also recently released a memoir and hosted a book event in her gorgeous home, along with Taymar Pixleysmith, whom I'd met earlier in the year at the Todos Santos Writers Workshop.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVzppbe72_v1lNs90P_WJ1h-I5TEAWQ3zlY9tv8lSAAWsGB8-9Rw80MDeX0Fcq6XBCIRSsM5e4mBeDQrEVk0JJ-Sn1da6zqB5-NS3gX1mrvba1Zwf4yM1U24YIk6wCSOkPrLPDDFlvpKPYSS-2AWFC9lWofTCq4iq7k_4uWnNFYpOK37aGK8qyWQvJSSh7/s320/with%20tamar%20and%20dana.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVzppbe72_v1lNs90P_WJ1h-I5TEAWQ3zlY9tv8lSAAWsGB8-9Rw80MDeX0Fcq6XBCIRSsM5e4mBeDQrEVk0JJ-Sn1da6zqB5-NS3gX1mrvba1Zwf4yM1U24YIk6wCSOkPrLPDDFlvpKPYSS-2AWFC9lWofTCq4iq7k_4uWnNFYpOK37aGK8qyWQvJSSh7/w400-h300/with%20tamar%20and%20dana.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with Dana and Taymar</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Tucson apparently is some kind of vortex that attracts amazing women because my friend Kate Stern happened to be in town as well. One day to escape the heat, Taymar took us on a divine mountain hike.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ-xe9md87CPDbDpkkpsvVpv6w1M93us9-EZRv41T9hXtndBi3kznVAK9odBnGvvE1lZX6QIoFVkT3DwsPHlW4RzMgm7Own13u9xJNVECD7GzN9l2p2_3gnlnkBDfTpOe9oSld9UmdebfbNNMaa0KumAfSQR_QPvI1EWBfjLMTjSmRF3acFBPhsdL3eh2E/s2048/Rose%20lake%20hike%20taymar.jpg" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ-xe9md87CPDbDpkkpsvVpv6w1M93us9-EZRv41T9hXtndBi3kznVAK9odBnGvvE1lZX6QIoFVkT3DwsPHlW4RzMgm7Own13u9xJNVECD7GzN9l2p2_3gnlnkBDfTpOe9oSld9UmdebfbNNMaa0KumAfSQR_QPvI1EWBfjLMTjSmRF3acFBPhsdL3eh2E/w400-h300/Rose%20lake%20hike%20taymar.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rose Lake in the Santa Catalina Mountains</td></tr></tbody></table><br><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"></table><br><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Soon I arrived in Ashland, Oregon, where I was thrilled to hang out with my amiga Laurie in her new home and the town she loves. It was a joy-filled time, packed with theater and friends and wine-tasting and a weekend camping trip! Not to mention a book gathering at her house, and a talk-and-signing at downtown Bloomsbury Books. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75Jo_4myQZ0hmV_MYDiRcwt1r9RCYtAhGVfb9xRQ45554-Qo6vOSr2FYJX8hFfQbjbMW5RwSqzk41acRiOco2zJpRPWRSoJ0VbP7tlMWDSxQpb8Iu48ocT3rgCmCzB0HBQwkVsiL8n9zrrFZtH4zJT59wX2dJRdq2HsGXh7aEWNyqIKWO-VLgCZXVtcP5/s960/Ashalnd%20talk.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75Jo_4myQZ0hmV_MYDiRcwt1r9RCYtAhGVfb9xRQ45554-Qo6vOSr2FYJX8hFfQbjbMW5RwSqzk41acRiOco2zJpRPWRSoJ0VbP7tlMWDSxQpb8Iu48ocT3rgCmCzB0HBQwkVsiL8n9zrrFZtH4zJT59wX2dJRdq2HsGXh7aEWNyqIKWO-VLgCZXVtcP5/w400-h300/Ashalnd%20talk.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Talking about our wacky traveling life.</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Magically, Barbara Kent--a longtime friend of my parents who makes an appearance in <i><a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wanderland-kate-evans/1143368250?ean=9781960326133" target="_blank">Wanderland</a></i></span><span style="font-size: large;">--materialized in the bookstore! I was grateful she drove all the way up from Northern California, because as I say in the book, I love being around people who knew my parents.</span></p><p><br></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikEBjHhDGhbCjX3FC-lzcyjZNhzcecoq4y-K5UXe7EOUZh48E0kvA1L0lXuacHslyqVJyU2gyG-eMVz5TJv8nKlnDSqyCBwDOfUIozI_B4sbGycY1hG8ow2YOEf4xZDJ4hmcHflQvzNhb_F2FD8v8Sw_dCNuk2nIzRVzLBfcBcshYJYNIUvkyNCMcKJQZM/s2048/barbara%20kent.jpg" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikEBjHhDGhbCjX3FC-lzcyjZNhzcecoq4y-K5UXe7EOUZh48E0kvA1L0lXuacHslyqVJyU2gyG-eMVz5TJv8nKlnDSqyCBwDOfUIozI_B4sbGycY1hG8ow2YOEf4xZDJ4hmcHflQvzNhb_F2FD8v8Sw_dCNuk2nIzRVzLBfcBcshYJYNIUvkyNCMcKJQZM/w400-h300/barbara%20kent.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Barbara Kent</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtMpT2hBS5bVjSFlsNgFlkcwkFeNFkw4Hdau6LLVUcnWMrcGFTFj2fE_hyphenhyphen-2fI49y3kOJGKP9QHl5tCydS1ddzS6ignGg7B6koAW3-jvg_Ihabc5S6KfgRR1JgjwKQXMtBrLrhG0EPGtV_cFxr6PWPwAz0wlUfM7F87blC_FONBfO4lS_BOlcFoFfgd4TJ/s2048/Lauire%20and%20tammy%20kinky%20boots.jpg" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtMpT2hBS5bVjSFlsNgFlkcwkFeNFkw4Hdau6LLVUcnWMrcGFTFj2fE_hyphenhyphen-2fI49y3kOJGKP9QHl5tCydS1ddzS6ignGg7B6koAW3-jvg_Ihabc5S6KfgRR1JgjwKQXMtBrLrhG0EPGtV_cFxr6PWPwAz0wlUfM7F87blC_FONBfO4lS_BOlcFoFfgd4TJ/w400-h300/Lauire%20and%20tammy%20kinky%20boots.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Laurie & Tammy seeing the phenomenal <i>Kinky Boots</i></td></tr></tbody></table><span><br><br><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-size: large; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoD0mgVimKE-zwQ0Yo_dlqd7PqdQBQRG8b-dEwddgU1nDAxwbioETLAx7FIK7OrLtqS3VnOIOXp4dfGPqAAV1YfsI-aWrFyYwdaGw379d-_SRnJyzX6QJziEQ-_3dm0pTiAnz5TyUqbiDGQ32yipYEqi-0NHqfZyel7WKrq7bMjlpA6tFc0cw7mJqPBBo5/s1405/ahsland%20camping.jpg" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1405" data-original-width="1063" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoD0mgVimKE-zwQ0Yo_dlqd7PqdQBQRG8b-dEwddgU1nDAxwbioETLAx7FIK7OrLtqS3VnOIOXp4dfGPqAAV1YfsI-aWrFyYwdaGw379d-_SRnJyzX6QJziEQ-_3dm0pTiAnz5TyUqbiDGQ32yipYEqi-0NHqfZyel7WKrq7bMjlpA6tFc0cw7mJqPBBo5/w303-h400/ahsland%20camping.jpg" width="303"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christening myself in the breath-taking (literally) <br>Rogue River on the camping trip </td></tr></tbody></table><p style="font-size: large;"><br></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For my last stop, I flew south to L.A. to spend a few days with my longtime friend Nancy, who pops up on many pages in <i><a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wanderland-kate-evans/1143368250?ean=9781960326133" target="_blank">Wanderland</a></i>. I was glad that my L.A. book event never panned out because at this point in the whirlwind, my body wanted to slow down. We did a lot of hanging out and talking, our specialty. One day we went to the movies, hopping on the <i>Barbie </i>bandwagon (a fitting culmination of my Goddess Tour). </span></p><p style="font-size: large;"><br></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-size: large; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1k48EG_b9fvgQnxBZ04X9g8VzSfQ1JEW5LTSz_WF5YUs1XatHNZl9Z5lVjYsIijd-leDcrfohMmJNQMZhzCRcWazbOI9nTShZpjlU4F15KsPofsq5iVWJIIRIPt0oL_Lll1EkKGBlr9ThnJxCZR9AvxiqZzg5k7mheP0mOK5EwONbKPxF3r5JSkdWgAof/s2048/gort.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1789" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1k48EG_b9fvgQnxBZ04X9g8VzSfQ1JEW5LTSz_WF5YUs1XatHNZl9Z5lVjYsIijd-leDcrfohMmJNQMZhzCRcWazbOI9nTShZpjlU4F15KsPofsq5iVWJIIRIPt0oL_Lll1EkKGBlr9ThnJxCZR9AvxiqZzg5k7mheP0mOK5EwONbKPxF3r5JSkdWgAof/s320/gort.jpg" width="280"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gort was in on the Barbie trend, too.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><p><span style="font-size: large;">Another day had to be devoted to art, of course, since that's Nancy's love language. With her friend the playwright<a href="https://playsbyjiggs.com/" target="_blank"> Jiggs Burgess</a> and the novelist <a href="https://www.janetfitchwrites.com/" target="_blank">Janet Fitch</a> (whom I'd met at the Todos Santos Writers Workshop), we lingered over multitudinous art at The Hammer and imbibed the quirky art collection at a private home & garden. </span></p><p style="font-size: large;"><br></p><p style="font-size: large;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBentwiYCB5GG0W2VRXlhUwSnBJArMfztik3E95tZYH24jFij1EK4vkwUoiw88YXSMuZjkwRLWMYQEs4YyIj8fDY1m68ubGVhbqL8VQsmqBchWnO1sKvkpejHBsi8kFbH62AelrCn3OSx9ABvnZnjvcajs_oyKu91rsM7E5hMAEz1APsJ3RE8uVywIQ4gt/s2048/Nancy%20jiggs%20janet.jpg" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBentwiYCB5GG0W2VRXlhUwSnBJArMfztik3E95tZYH24jFij1EK4vkwUoiw88YXSMuZjkwRLWMYQEs4YyIj8fDY1m68ubGVhbqL8VQsmqBchWnO1sKvkpejHBsi8kFbH62AelrCn3OSx9ABvnZnjvcajs_oyKu91rsM7E5hMAEz1APsJ3RE8uVywIQ4gt/w400-h300/Nancy%20jiggs%20janet.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love me some artists & writers</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="font-size: large;"><br></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">By the way, if you have not yet read Janet's Russian Revolution "Marina" novels, do so immediately! We must have been talking about writing during our post-art lunch because our waiter asked us about our books. Oh, to stumble across a voracious appreciative reader. What a treat. Later he sent me this picture he took:</span></p></span><br><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsTj7AG4TnQvdSNeZCK7YVFHnmRDx5tS-v8Hhd3JeJgTvCjLQAArRWuPFMxb47agS2_rQESLy1RR8gv-C3FpGXSDitfiVYHDULzE6JuPkYYYfzRO8fhx52CbMFVw0hILkWb1UbyDysGFu3GD8E-CZfKxZGc6halzK4Mbwvpk1rRk4iI9lOWPjZnXtMol52/s1919/waiter.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1919" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsTj7AG4TnQvdSNeZCK7YVFHnmRDx5tS-v8Hhd3JeJgTvCjLQAArRWuPFMxb47agS2_rQESLy1RR8gv-C3FpGXSDitfiVYHDULzE6JuPkYYYfzRO8fhx52CbMFVw0hILkWb1UbyDysGFu3GD8E-CZfKxZGc6halzK4Mbwvpk1rRk4iI9lOWPjZnXtMol52/w225-h400/waiter.jpg" width="225"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A reader's/my toes</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">I love that some men have been getting into the delightful <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Wanderland-Kate-Evans/dp/1960326139/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2VH2MS70LLD57&keywords=wanderland+kate+evans+book&qid=1697484277&sprefix=wanderland+kate+eva%2Caps%2C288&sr=8-1" target="_blank">Wanderland</a></i>-toes-pics...which I have been receiving from readers. My publisher created this fun collage:</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUmGJObyuwsQaphl4y-YrsaO4U1BuyDEGc3U1tQbTEPIQAXQ3kmqn4_BbwxP3x2o2qojc750kQSnoqoJZAhibrqDm_gBrw3-vN6GM1DbtAEVNk-4CSpBqkTQoVIvx6IhpWKl-AFxHz-rctJZFfUtsnRwwI1_xYpI55V4TcfmSwW07bmGjcs-fGNsBnTiKI/s1080/Wanderland%20graphic%20toes.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUmGJObyuwsQaphl4y-YrsaO4U1BuyDEGc3U1tQbTEPIQAXQ3kmqn4_BbwxP3x2o2qojc750kQSnoqoJZAhibrqDm_gBrw3-vN6GM1DbtAEVNk-4CSpBqkTQoVIvx6IhpWKl-AFxHz-rctJZFfUtsnRwwI1_xYpI55V4TcfmSwW07bmGjcs-fGNsBnTiKI/w400-h400/Wanderland%20graphic%20toes.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Many of these readers were traveling at the time!</td></tr></tbody></table><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">When I finally landed back in Baja after a month, it felt delicious to see Dave. We'd never spent that much time apart. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Writing this, I'm struck by the fortune of my life. Of course like everyone I've had my share of loss and pain--but at this moment I feel like those struggles are eclipsed by collaboration, friendship, and love. </span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">* * *</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">PS: If you enjoyed <i>Wanderland</i>, I'll give you heart emojis for life if you'll review it on <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Wanderland-Kate-Evans/dp/1960326139/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2VH2MS70LLD57&keywords=wanderland+kate+evans+book&qid=1697484277&sprefix=wanderland+kate+eva%2Caps%2C288&sr=8-1" target="_blank">Amazon</a>, <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/noresults/9780316510059#/" target="_blank">B&N</a>, and/or <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/131798464-wanderland" target="_blank">Goodreads</a>. Reviews can be short & dulce :), such as these:</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><i>"This book will blast you off your recliner." </i></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><i>"Wildly moving and poignant." </i></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><i>"So well written. The details are delicious."</i></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">PSS: If you'd like a loving, supportive boost for your own creative life, come to Mexico in April 2024 for my co-hosted retreat: <a href="https://tehomcenter.org/writingmexico2024" target="_blank"><b>Re-Imagining Writing. </b></a>There are only 3 single rooms remaining, and prices go up January 1, so save your space <a href="https://tehomcenter.org/writingmexico2024" target="_blank">here</a>. Consider coming with a friend to stay in a huge, luxurious 1100 SF apartment-room--and to share this inspiring, rejuvenating respite.</span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><br><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7gvKGILYH9ZtvTpaHfVybXgmNUOXEaXjn-ucNw61t8VJzEEccu1j_wGfOv4rJqmP5dF-FWzjYEl0uF2AjLQrRnc10zmkZDc0PtpMDOapdezzTudd2CDet7Lw7nMN7Fs4nOZixsv2WCsDKWWypA5KftiEFUF9zUrakk9NjawNCZe_O33hiMu_18ctAcfNo/s1507/retreat%20sunset.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1055" data-original-width="1507" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7gvKGILYH9ZtvTpaHfVybXgmNUOXEaXjn-ucNw61t8VJzEEccu1j_wGfOv4rJqmP5dF-FWzjYEl0uF2AjLQrRnc10zmkZDc0PtpMDOapdezzTudd2CDet7Lw7nMN7Fs4nOZixsv2WCsDKWWypA5KftiEFUF9zUrakk9NjawNCZe_O33hiMu_18ctAcfNo/w400-h280/retreat%20sunset.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beach front Prana del Mar,<br>where the <a href="https://tehomcenter.org/writingmexico2024" target="_blank">retreat magic</a> will happen!</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><br></div></div>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-91615836851226408362023-05-15T07:22:00.000-07:002023-05-15T07:22:22.208-07:00Ten Year Anniversary of Nomadic Life--and a Book Birthday!<p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM2TKaZOIesegcoNG553VOift8ln6aN7GnqUlMF89asJsr4KpzyFJxISAD9_WQR3M5OK3flw7johR8XqefAZ2mitzAQ56duv7KyIVv1be9ow8l8o0JAwq0pqlqpuX2XTWOarHoEp4ufN2yAPq614HcJjOC4thcHD8RSGY8c6BB_B4MId7Hm9_WFlfE9g/s1440/image1.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM2TKaZOIesegcoNG553VOift8ln6aN7GnqUlMF89asJsr4KpzyFJxISAD9_WQR3M5OK3flw7johR8XqefAZ2mitzAQ56duv7KyIVv1be9ow8l8o0JAwq0pqlqpuX2XTWOarHoEp4ufN2yAPq614HcJjOC4thcHD8RSGY8c6BB_B4MId7Hm9_WFlfE9g/w400-h300/image1.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">This month marks 10 years of the traveling life for Dave and me. Ten years since I signed my retirement papers at San Jose State University and we left Santa Cruz to live without a house for a year, just to see what would happen. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">We had no idea we were joining a movement of people who were embracing versions of the itinerant life. From retired full-time travelers to digital nomads to those deemed "location independent" to world-schoolers who take their kids along. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCc-unCssO31xm6yOx8SRoK7CNVnKdpJ-78sIVlPzmu2MFiFfQQT41JUWKnnBmNSQhhZWTmB6iknfXZUDe39207yXmCZXDVNXnOnf2tj_yUwZ17LKUhVAtIeyC-zuzj5qCzr87S7xHxQ_QkAIUQ58hUKhew-wBiDRGoEY8rBSXnNZUaMcNjGSqIFRBlw/s1785/image%203.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1582" data-original-width="1785" height="355" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCc-unCssO31xm6yOx8SRoK7CNVnKdpJ-78sIVlPzmu2MFiFfQQT41JUWKnnBmNSQhhZWTmB6iknfXZUDe39207yXmCZXDVNXnOnf2tj_yUwZ17LKUhVAtIeyC-zuzj5qCzr87S7xHxQ_QkAIUQ58hUKhew-wBiDRGoEY8rBSXnNZUaMcNjGSqIFRBlw/w400-h355/image%203.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Housesit = Petsit</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">We also hadn't yet discovered <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=housesitting" target="_blank">housesitting</a> (click <a href="https://www.trustedhousesitters.com/refer/RAF140357/?utm_source=copy-link&utm_medium=refer-a-friend&utm_campaign=refer-a-friend" target="_blank">here</a>). Or the little casita we'd end up buying in <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=baja" target="_blank">Baja</a>. We hadn't known I'd have <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=brain+tumor" target="_blank">two major health crises</a> that both would require <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=thyroid" target="_blank">surgery</a>--and that instead of scaring us into stasis they'd fire us up to keep traveling. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">We hadn't known we'd <a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2023/03/the-web-of-connection.html" target="_blank">befriend people </a>all over the world. Or that we'd encounter<a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=leopard" target="_blank"> wild animals </a>on land and sea. We didn't know that we'd travel more as wanderers than strict planners, taking advantage of opportunities that floated our way.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFkh_ph7kTG1ntiq_8eAUxU_GYVd_MaC9o6ipgmYoLW7lWaEHmdzJketzv9XB6iLlvHHsUeXMF3o1P18oWjZ_9Mq5EZ53W8zOFATs5VVl-BcHDmBoVI_m_5d4S9jXZ_Cof8Xy-P26XfHX2xLGVUNldFK6i8ZpaevkjPDwojhPWP6uxEBZtZxx9h-27hg/s1651/image%202.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1302" data-original-width="1651" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFkh_ph7kTG1ntiq_8eAUxU_GYVd_MaC9o6ipgmYoLW7lWaEHmdzJketzv9XB6iLlvHHsUeXMF3o1P18oWjZ_9Mq5EZ53W8zOFATs5VVl-BcHDmBoVI_m_5d4S9jXZ_Cof8Xy-P26XfHX2xLGVUNldFK6i8ZpaevkjPDwojhPWP6uxEBZtZxx9h-27hg/w400-h315/image%202.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">I'd hoped but hadn't known for sure that my literary life would expand--that I'd teach writing workshops in <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=thailand" target="_blank">Thailand </a>and <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2015/11/nomadic-california-fall.html" target="_blank">California</a>, that I'd publish articles and <a href="http://www.kateevanswriter.com" target="_blank">four books</a>, that we'd move to <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=china" target="_blank">China </a>where I'd teach Creative Writing at Guangxi University.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">I'd suspected I'd write about this but didn't know in what way. First came <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Call-Wonder-odyssey-spirit-travel/dp/099618242X/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1435040362&sr=1-4&keywords=call+it+wonder&pebp=1435040359658&perid=1RGCX5D0FKKWXY3Z84H2" target="_blank">Call It Wonder: An Odyssey of Love, Sex, Spirit, and Travel</a> </i>and then <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Wanderland-Kate-Evans/dp/1960326139/ref=sr_1_1?crid=L0NDB5EXH36O&keywords=wanderland+kate+evans&qid=1682544554&sprefix=wanderland+kate+eva%2Caps%2C922&sr=8-1" target="_blank">Wanderland: Living the Traveling Life</a>. </i><b>Its</b><b> birthday is TODAY! </b></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.kateevanswriter.com" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="334" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmM0XQDxZuCM-S15KqEcey05jHd7ft-GGtb1d3oO3xmCqyLOGXYeptJ6oJsOXHdPLUf5hQ1deUTW9Y8eG9qPK1GjZlh5Cz2NnXwSLYp3NKYft4zwlSgKHLs6TYXNDm9qOLkskKLE4QjtDFeTxMNtuhI2M4kmhO2p1P-Ys-09OMcDZN5HEOB6yLZlrPjQ/w268-h400/w.jpg" width="268" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><i>Wanderland</i> is about housesitting and nomadic life and reflections on home, and it comes out at an interesting time--just as I've been thinking of Baja less as "home base" and more as "home."</span></p>We recently became Mexican residents, complete with driver's licenses and Baja plates on Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, our blue Subaru that has carried us along thousands of miles whenever we weren't in a plane, bus, boat, taxi, Uber, or tuk-tuk.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">This doesn't mean we won't continue to housesit, explore, wander. I still love the feel of flying, of being unrooted. At the same time, we're intertwined with our community here, and I adore this area and our casita. I'm glad it's small because, as I write about in both books, living light has always appealed to me. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>Ten years has taught me a lot--especially that the world is mostly an inviting place, and that I'm more flexible and adaptable than I ever believed. </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">When we left California ten years ago, I couldn't have imagined this life. Back then I had more of a feeling than a vision. A feeling of leaning into expansiveness. And while this life isn't perfect, it fits us well. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih82f90WVf7Zy2YP1XW9u5NnzwJvX4btwRNBNuR0OkLVfm4ktBWLclIPV52lgNoJdUDcyRbdoYvInwlC89hN2o_YIVd6OFS30T5zFGzSZw786cnvdzdSRDPE7wpMhqd6KvdlztWXirZBnZFX40vLvjRc-EGrFHfKBPf4GODVJj3hTL4_2YMt_9yOQTrA/s1944/image%204.jpg"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih82f90WVf7Zy2YP1XW9u5NnzwJvX4btwRNBNuR0OkLVfm4ktBWLclIPV52lgNoJdUDcyRbdoYvInwlC89hN2o_YIVd6OFS30T5zFGzSZw786cnvdzdSRDPE7wpMhqd6KvdlztWXirZBnZFX40vLvjRc-EGrFHfKBPf4GODVJj3hTL4_2YMt_9yOQTrA/w400-h300/image%204.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><br /><p></p><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><i>You can order <a href="http://www.kateevanswriter.com" target="_blank">Wanderland: Living the Traveling Life</a> from <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Wanderland-Kate-Evans/dp/1960326139/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2CLJONJDV24UB&keywords=wanderland+kate+evans&qid=1682543954&sprefix=wanderland+kate+evans%2Caps%2C248&sr=8-1" target="_blank">Amazon</a>, <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wanderland-kate-evans/1143368250?ean=9781960326133" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a>, <a href="https://parsonsporch.com/misc-books/wanderland-living-the-traveling-life-kate-evans?rq=Kate%20Evans%20" target="_blank">my publisher</a>, or through any bookstore. See my other books at my <a href="http://www.kateevanswriter.com" target="_blank">website</a>. </i></span></div>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-43293846848337838402023-04-26T14:07:00.001-07:002023-04-26T14:07:49.247-07:00It's Never Too Late: Debut Author at 76<p> </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Stories-Sheriffs-Daughter-Lareida-Buckley/dp/0875658342/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2KSGN2Q8KB5P2&keywords=lareida+buckley&qid=1682542708&sprefix=lareida+buckl%2Caps%2C656&sr=8-1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="333" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-fT__M7YK11TrOpxucafd1V9puIZomQSk37A7ChR69S4h3lsXOsHLtK5IdRkbO_CFYM5w8_yRgpAx8FQHD5PYI13E70YP26ZTlbyMyeNJfQFI9on1AbwQ63zyZ_9DgRcCFf-F-LdFqe1_pNg6RjmaTXg-G5y_GPFw7fZk8Wlg5fdrGChVf9WLYxwejg/w268-h400/lareida.jpg" width="268" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;">Lareida Buckley and I met three years ago on t<a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/06/hawaii-timeand-time-to-move-on.html" target="_blank">he Big Island of Hawaii when I was housesitting </a>for her neighbor. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;">On a stroll with several of
her woman friends, Lareida mentioned she was curious about my work as a writer
and editor. I asked her if she, too, wrote—and when she said yes, her friends
turned to her in surprise saying, “You do?” </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;">Lareida explained that for years
she’d been working on a story collection based on her small-town Texas
upbringing. Her father had been the sheriff and her family lived next door to
the jail. “I want to finish it. I’m not getting any younger,” she’d said in her
soft Texas twang. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;">Later, she sent me some pages, and I immediately knew her
voice had to be out in the world. Filled with passion for a project I believed
in, I supported her in finishing and submitting the manuscript—and now <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Stories-Sheriffs-Daughter-Lareida-Buckley/dp/0875658342/ref=sr_1_1?crid=33IX1GNJCFXDQ&keywords=lareida+buckley&qid=1682543175&sprefix=lareida+buc%2Caps%2C986&sr=8-1" target="_blank"><i>Stories
From the Sherriff’s Daughter</i>,</a> has come out TCU Press, making Lareida a debut author at age 76. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;">I decided to interview her to share her story with the world.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">How long were you working on your stories, and why
didn’t your walking group friends know? <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">I always wrote stories, ever since college. About twenty years
ago I wrote more seriously and put these stories together as a collection while
participating in a very informal writing group, just for fun. I toyed with
making it into a novel, tried making the voice reflect the narrator’s age, and
other false starts. Life intervened, and I set the project aside for years. Though
when I met you I’d finished what I thought was a pretty good rewrite, I hadn’t
shared the stories with anyone except a few close friends in many years. When I
got the book deal, friends and family alike were amazed. Me too. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">These stories are autobiographical in that you
grew up the daughter of a sheriff in small-town Texas and lived in a house
attached to the jail. Why did you decide to write this as fiction rather than
memoir? <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">When I started these stories, I’d been gone from Texas for
many years. It had been a long time since my father had passed away, so I felt
I couldn’t write a memoir at that distance, both in time and place, and do it
justice. Also, taking situations and people that I remembered, making them fictional
and more interesting, was way more fun. I could add excitement or humor where
there might have been none. I could try to bring my childhood to life. Creativity
was the draw for fiction.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">In the book, the narrator, Dolly, starts out as a
nine-year-old girl and we see her grow up living next to the jail. How do you
think Dolly’s life would have been different if her mother had had her way and
moved the family away from the jail permanently? <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Her life would have been dramatically different. Though people
coming to the door with terrible calamities and tragedies became normal to her,
and me, it still affected us all to one extent or another, making us into more
compassionate and caring people. Had she moved out, as her mother wished and
even tried to accomplish during those early years, Dolly would have missed out
on contact with people of all races and all walks of life, as well as the
appreciation of how hard life can be.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">The book has a wide array of colorful characters.
How were you able to write about so many different people richly and
authentically? <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">To say there were colorful characters around the jail is an
understatement. I could often describe on the page the characters exactly as
they were in real life, could have them act exactly as they did. Real people
living real life adversity—and the people who tried to help them—made for
authentically colorful characters I could portray honestly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">You do a beautiful job in the book of dealing with
both humor and tragedy. Was it your intent to grapple with both? If so, why was
that important to you? <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Actually, the tragedy was more obvious, and it stood out more
clearly in my memory, making it easy to write. Humor is how I’ve dealt with
difficulties in my own life. It was simply a part growing up and came naturally
in my writing. I especially used the grandmother to add humor throughout the
stories. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Was your real-life grandmother funny?<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 5.0pt;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: Cambria, serif;">Some of her
jokes and snarky comments were really my own or others, but I enjoyed the persona
she took on as the stories progressed. I imagined she would have, too. </span><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: "Bookman Old Style", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was moved by the loving relationship Dolly has
with her parents. How are they similar to or different from your own parents? <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">That relationship was easy to write about because it was
absolutely real. Busy and absorbed with law enforcement as they were, they were
wonderful and loving parents in the midst of all that.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Why did your father want to be sheriff? And is it
true, as in the book, that your mother later became sheriff herself?<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">I’m not sure if he wanted to be sheriff. He was a kindhearted
man, involved in community activities and helping people through various
organizations, like the church, and the Masonic Lodge long before he became
sheriff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps he saw it as a way of
making that work a true vocation. He’d been a dairy farmer, and the dairy
business was changing with pasteurization, milking machines, and other
modernizations that might have been beyond his means. His visits back to the
dairy farm on a regular basis, and how important those visits were, always made
me wonder why he’d moved on to law enforcement. I tried to show that dichotomy
in the stories. And he was never the stereotypical gun-toting authoritarian
Southern sheriff you might picture. He was a quiet man who in his years as
sheriff never fired his gun. My mother took the job because she didn’t know
what else to do when my father died, but she was never the typical sheriff
either. Her gun was never fired either.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Was it true that the boys you dated were more
entranced by your dad the sheriff than by you? <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Some definitely were! It’s absolutely true that years after
relationships were over, several old boyfriends would keep coming by to see
him, ride around with him on patrol, even when I was away at school. It became
a family joke.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraph"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">As a white Southerner, how did you address racial
issues in this book?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did you find this
difficult, and if so, how and why? <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">We must have been a liberal family for that time, though I
don’t think I thought about it then. It was all I knew. But I say in the book, and
I felt it to be true in our years in the jail, that race didn’t determine
character, and there were good and bad people, black and white. Also, we had
much more contact with black people than most families ever did during those
segregated years. Not only with black prisoners, but with their families,
lawyers, teachers and preachers. I tried in the book to show that racism was
definitely there, but not as much in evidence in our family or around the jail.
It seems unbelievable, but I remember there being two water fountains in the
courthouse basement, one labeled for whites and one labeled for coloreds. In my
lifetime! With that sort of thing surrounding my formative years, I worried
that I might not be able to treat those issues with the respect the people of
that era deserved, so I tried to take care with it. I can only hope that I
didn’t offend anyone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">How was it that you were able to finally finish
the book after all these years? What was it like getting the manuscript ready
to send out? <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">I have a lifelong friend who took my stories more seriously
than I did. She encouraged me, bullied me, made me finish them. I’ve read that
writing is really revision, and these stories were revised so many times, I
think making them better in the end. The fact that I’d just done a massive
rewrite with my friend’s encouragement right before I met you was serendipity,
and then your edit was the final powerful push. I was finally, to the extent an
author ever is, satisfied with the work, and was preparing for a long process
of submissions and maybe even self-publishing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;">What would you like people to know about getting
your first book published in your seventies?</span></b><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: large;">Over the years, I kind of thought of myself as a writer, even
though in my real life I had a country mail route along the ocean in Hawaii. I
even had business cards made once. <i>Lareida Buckley, Writer</i>. Actually, <i>Reader</i>
would have been more accurate. I listened to literally thousands of books over
my 25 years on the mail route. My sage advice, from the vantage point of 76
years, is don’t give up on a dream. I’m a prime example. I’m Lareida Buckley,
Writer. It really is never too late. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p></p>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-31055234848314798992023-03-28T17:40:00.005-07:002023-04-05T05:08:58.157-07:00The Web of Connection
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggE7I4PfjIYNqCg07q9VcRzJHvkOShko-Rca4sNnb1yuH9QIB91SEb1jaT8TFecqlGwm_vjLaTOVKOQT7aYFVns_YUi1b4nYwEP-wOvhI1hh17Ozq0LrClurr0fX7gvZr-srSZzl1f_xu7KvRy_nHzQaK0Sklqi5riRd5S4V3-qkBEKyvLkUP1Y4WdbA/s2000/WANDERLAND%20exterior%20galley%20MINUS%20ISBN%20&%20BARCODE%20FINAL.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1451" data-original-width="2000" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggE7I4PfjIYNqCg07q9VcRzJHvkOShko-Rca4sNnb1yuH9QIB91SEb1jaT8TFecqlGwm_vjLaTOVKOQT7aYFVns_YUi1b4nYwEP-wOvhI1hh17Ozq0LrClurr0fX7gvZr-srSZzl1f_xu7KvRy_nHzQaK0Sklqi5riRd5S4V3-qkBEKyvLkUP1Y4WdbA/w400-h290/WANDERLAND%20exterior%20galley%20MINUS%20ISBN%20&%20BARCODE%20FINAL.png" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm practically in a tizzy over the beauty of my book cover!<br><a href="https://tehomcenter.org/tehom-center-publishing?fbclid=IwAR34UqqzEu92jmOzeeTo397ROb10syXSpsTkEyVnAhZ9ow2FNH43boSY2R0" target="_blank"><i>Wanderland </i>is coming June 1. </a></td></tr></tbody></table></span><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br></span></div>One of the themes of my new book is the <i>Web of Connection </i>we've woven as we've traveled around the world. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We meet other travelers. And those who are rooted. We connect with friends old and new. I hadn't realized when we started living this itinerant life how many *people* would enliven our path.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">We belong to a number of online traveling groups, and it's strangely wonderful to meet up in real life. For instance, two couples (Amber & Greg and Diana & Mike) happened to be in the Bay Area on our most recent visit. Our robust, chatty, online relationships easily transferred to physical presence.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGdDHECw8O8AtHp9donpFWrVigCnHY0rccXTWxDjLEKisq3FfPrVFQjLMrabpwD4G-aMgo4T2u532dQx2RhdDougBDuoKlv3gILn6NnWL91mEjpAlifxK0b6CYo_0a-XpvkFJQmtIozHtxng0h8bQY2gbh5cE4fDY1g__ee08B1nkyRgLcyi7F_SXAw/s1080/amber.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="778" data-original-width="1080" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGdDHECw8O8AtHp9donpFWrVigCnHY0rccXTWxDjLEKisq3FfPrVFQjLMrabpwD4G-aMgo4T2u532dQx2RhdDougBDuoKlv3gILn6NnWL91mEjpAlifxK0b6CYo_0a-XpvkFJQmtIozHtxng0h8bQY2gbh5cE4fDY1g__ee08B1nkyRgLcyi7F_SXAw/w400-h289/amber.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with Amber & Greg, who were Bay Area housesitting<br>after a Christmas in Amsterdam </td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXfCZ9IKyMkQ189P8q8wTpL9iIQSuMZod7LviyfUKev3arOtfFRiHGzau9P32YIs4jrL1o3SVmmSiyX253MV-0gheTZ3Xv0hXuFflDesaA8k6_EL-dzw10__9LzveAq4vB656887X3yxfShhUVsyICS2onRAEnslRPXe8U7hxBSPyRTdSAyVHYynNq5Q/s2048/mike%20and%20diana.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1448" data-original-width="2048" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXfCZ9IKyMkQ189P8q8wTpL9iIQSuMZod7LviyfUKev3arOtfFRiHGzau9P32YIs4jrL1o3SVmmSiyX253MV-0gheTZ3Xv0hXuFflDesaA8k6_EL-dzw10__9LzveAq4vB656887X3yxfShhUVsyICS2onRAEnslRPXe8U7hxBSPyRTdSAyVHYynNq5Q/w400-h283/mike%20and%20diana.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mike and Diana write about their traveling lifestyle <a href="https://livingchapter2.com/" target="_blank">here</a>. </td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We met another traveling couple during our </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">Oahu housesit. Brooke is also a writer whose books I'd read. Turns out they were living a block from where we were staying! They showed us some of their favorite spots, and we talked about one of the best nomadic topics: how living in unconventional ways makes life extra juicy.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4hGkYxmEk2cX2Ae6qabJJvnCc1YD-Qhtcsbr8KNfLyFh6JEteYZAHH9yO6Y2OcN_lWZHDR6EyMUKIeyZrSalO_8cGMiR2WxuwruLTKnOrbuM9UIABWHuVWDQvL3QBm9qii88Ov42YCb0HONy2SDZ2_x47ZhN57XxRCapsfXXYEBg96b_XUyfb2MMn6Q/s2048/Brook%20and%20Buddy.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4hGkYxmEk2cX2Ae6qabJJvnCc1YD-Qhtcsbr8KNfLyFh6JEteYZAHH9yO6Y2OcN_lWZHDR6EyMUKIeyZrSalO_8cGMiR2WxuwruLTKnOrbuM9UIABWHuVWDQvL3QBm9qii88Ov42YCb0HONy2SDZ2_x47ZhN57XxRCapsfXXYEBg96b_XUyfb2MMn6Q/w400-h300/Brook%20and%20Buddy.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buddy and Brooke were wonderful tour guides.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlic0mmWdKxfe_R20w4dMQ-eCv5l_JK93wKl-H-hjh4DxwFWBBUgBZcy-RxB_EUNx4XgUUMfI5QKdu4hmliY1I9k69HJw5dQ1_hojWWFBqO4qzhUC9SSOmRyZsi52yJ0VXN977nkJ-wA7omR0qgLYcbIEACTMwOYh6DM5ApgWlG9ZTy0ChjouGnFq5xQ/s960/Brooke.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlic0mmWdKxfe_R20w4dMQ-eCv5l_JK93wKl-H-hjh4DxwFWBBUgBZcy-RxB_EUNx4XgUUMfI5QKdu4hmliY1I9k69HJw5dQ1_hojWWFBqO4qzhUC9SSOmRyZsi52yJ0VXN977nkJ-wA7omR0qgLYcbIEACTMwOYh6DM5ApgWlG9ZTy0ChjouGnFq5xQ/w400-h266/Brooke.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kuli'ou'ou Beach Park at sunset...<br>an example of Dave's wonderful photography</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Another online-to-IRL experience came when we met up with Yvonne and Michael, a nomadic couple stopping off in Oahu on their way to S.E. Asia. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUuM7n6eePmCiWghQ59-akaDzMaW5Q7bH2A00xNy4hjlZgRxJrAybr25tl6cYPxSvuneCxCOeTOKjkiAbArfzO6DnJmbWqFibCzWPDr67OsBKuKMG7H_NAK4W9QdzjilCa_LsgK0D0-6BI8eo8nAhX7I9pBgedCOyERaWQLnz2UgO2aeYtV5il6peuvw/s2048/michael%20and%20yvonne.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUuM7n6eePmCiWghQ59-akaDzMaW5Q7bH2A00xNy4hjlZgRxJrAybr25tl6cYPxSvuneCxCOeTOKjkiAbArfzO6DnJmbWqFibCzWPDr67OsBKuKMG7H_NAK4W9QdzjilCa_LsgK0D0-6BI8eo8nAhX7I9pBgedCOyERaWQLnz2UgO2aeYtV5il6peuvw/w400-h266/michael%20and%20yvonne.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Michael & Yvonne at the Outrigger Reef Waikiki Resort</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Our Hawaii housesit came about through Nadia, a woman we met in Baja years ago. We <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2018/10/paradise-has-bugs.html" target="_blank">reconnected with her and her family in Thailand</a>--and then after she moved to Hawaii, she asked us to housesit. Talk about a web.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHOF4wKMCLJKdDRdBcR6aUGhMahF3U7P7_wNsIw3SrHL-VbLw4tZNk9DaqnuiEA_NIWR2Z7x91iYEGGJrG6GBLJ7JfqZu7xeKqUAKty8-pXMUozC-1_L31AiugR_sBeeHGiNXJsc76aCD64YNA4lfJTw1BSdUKZEI7egrUYRFjMSuxgYES9Ig6HBbibg/s960/hawaii%20kai.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="960" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHOF4wKMCLJKdDRdBcR6aUGhMahF3U7P7_wNsIw3SrHL-VbLw4tZNk9DaqnuiEA_NIWR2Z7x91iYEGGJrG6GBLJ7JfqZu7xeKqUAKty8-pXMUozC-1_L31AiugR_sBeeHGiNXJsc76aCD64YNA4lfJTw1BSdUKZEI7egrUYRFjMSuxgYES9Ig6HBbibg/w400-h285/hawaii%20kai.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">loved our housesit view</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Also nearby on Oahu lives a high school friend I hadn't seen in nearly 40 years. We had a sweet time with Cheryl and Gene, eating meals together, going on a stunning hike, and spending a day on their boat.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtHHHGFY6-KZxRmlAomiECtRuc9XbAHDbsZ236iP-YTw-WSW1qXWXGVD8-owDtt8lJHkoOOyBZmG_ggWPyMTIyiY2Ra5OsgCpggqYurBHExQRHORWxhHxN7SmwEOKEvZRZfWxVzPgyEmKBXPAvnllqep4NIQFy2l7EiIR3xL5nIpo4I_dyolzbjppO_w/s2048/hiking.jpg" style="display: inline; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtHHHGFY6-KZxRmlAomiECtRuc9XbAHDbsZ236iP-YTw-WSW1qXWXGVD8-owDtt8lJHkoOOyBZmG_ggWPyMTIyiY2Ra5OsgCpggqYurBHExQRHORWxhHxN7SmwEOKEvZRZfWxVzPgyEmKBXPAvnllqep4NIQFy2l7EiIR3xL5nIpo4I_dyolzbjppO_w/w400-h266/hiking.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hike to the top of the pali</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtHHHGFY6-KZxRmlAomiECtRuc9XbAHDbsZ236iP-YTw-WSW1qXWXGVD8-owDtt8lJHkoOOyBZmG_ggWPyMTIyiY2Ra5OsgCpggqYurBHExQRHORWxhHxN7SmwEOKEvZRZfWxVzPgyEmKBXPAvnllqep4NIQFy2l7EiIR3xL5nIpo4I_dyolzbjppO_w/s2048/hiking.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRzA4Z5W2LGtU95q6w73Yl4x4W15mjdkQnhm5RfWZOAhjQ8inHMtHXzIpBFRaP6ginEocLKej-kY-whVwczRCVfx3pOnuTha0Cy49Lm-gmy_YGM_SttyM178BrWvtSiubEScGXAm-Nv9UefkNVT5I7nUjHybZZHz3q0OiX0d7KWv6u6cDe61zUpsMpaQ/s2048/kayak%20with%20cherly.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1366" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRzA4Z5W2LGtU95q6w73Yl4x4W15mjdkQnhm5RfWZOAhjQ8inHMtHXzIpBFRaP6ginEocLKej-kY-whVwczRCVfx3pOnuTha0Cy49Lm-gmy_YGM_SttyM178BrWvtSiubEScGXAm-Nv9UefkNVT5I7nUjHybZZHz3q0OiX0d7KWv6u6cDe61zUpsMpaQ/w400-h266/kayak%20with%20cherly.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kayaking, Cheryl & I gossiped about our high school days.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnycXEs36LtFLoMK-L62smSwxcnc15HFq6hvavnkW6xhskP19FX5iycg_xSG9Yfu7-feYYO-PwAmsBrpWAeUAbxJN5PEURKuDXd220OxsnA0S1F4zvow6wPt_h_fh72W6JGWplL08aGzu5uZ0JBeCrWtSk04Vc2xMwDlds1N2-iMONXQq7b2T6JkYyfg/s2048/captain%20dave.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnycXEs36LtFLoMK-L62smSwxcnc15HFq6hvavnkW6xhskP19FX5iycg_xSG9Yfu7-feYYO-PwAmsBrpWAeUAbxJN5PEURKuDXd220OxsnA0S1F4zvow6wPt_h_fh72W6JGWplL08aGzu5uZ0JBeCrWtSk04Vc2xMwDlds1N2-iMONXQq7b2T6JkYyfg/w400-h300/captain%20dave.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Captains Gene & Dave</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsZQIENSYXzFWAwRWsCAjJLcDKTKueM_Vd6YMpZwGkZYpmLq9ygWYTfrcWYQZkftiAezp8d8ku-6UmVnCLHoxqevlguHTKlokGXX3oNrvB0bh-hVHLNR0yFv-oREWOzujwxVJl2VEDJACnFNU1YTmRa8FOlISg86AKTAA_fzhnAYSV-00itXWpOoaF-w/s2048/ballet%20leg.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsZQIENSYXzFWAwRWsCAjJLcDKTKueM_Vd6YMpZwGkZYpmLq9ygWYTfrcWYQZkftiAezp8d8ku-6UmVnCLHoxqevlguHTKlokGXX3oNrvB0bh-hVHLNR0yFv-oREWOzujwxVJl2VEDJACnFNU1YTmRa8FOlISg86AKTAA_fzhnAYSV-00itXWpOoaF-w/w400-h266/ballet%20leg.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My signature synchronized swimming move at Kaneohe San Bar</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Another longtime friend, Candis, also lives on the island. One night we had dinner made with fresh produce from her garden, follow by a jam session with two mandolins, a guitar, my uke, and a stand-up bass.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisYzFszvlwyzCAp8JgUUQWjbEZ7q3g0oN0WcKl-USbwRET4GbC427x18WhncnHGMsXp6WduCII2Zw8z_I76jiEW4pq2BXk-t1pKrDBX_28-35WDDTkwIxM254TcMP4Z57Drx0xlSH8rfSrLVUNoAoflHU-ZJ038F-MyUGbz4CBcLSKr0qFwaaEwwCbNA/s2048/jam%20at%20candis.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisYzFszvlwyzCAp8JgUUQWjbEZ7q3g0oN0WcKl-USbwRET4GbC427x18WhncnHGMsXp6WduCII2Zw8z_I76jiEW4pq2BXk-t1pKrDBX_28-35WDDTkwIxM254TcMP4Z57Drx0xlSH8rfSrLVUNoAoflHU-ZJ038F-MyUGbz4CBcLSKr0qFwaaEwwCbNA/w400-h266/jam%20at%20candis.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jamming</td></tr></tbody></table></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Turned out that Sarah and Jimmy, whom we'd met in <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2022/11/panama-highs-lows.html" target="_blank">Panama </a>while they were also housesitting, were coming through Oahu! We hiked the Makapu'u Lighthouse trail and spent relaxing time at Waimanalo Beach. It was a little surreal seeing them after having just hung out in the Panamanian jungle. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1VCHCIGDjTgwen3kq_gnKPOnTkSmsTqTgglMYXiW9Njiht8C6ner_ZeR2yDSJTSzP83aUoBJxe2w6YTt_pPXieYi1CxYIPCik00xtiqAmpt40PQ8UCuXhuSEgP9OgQ0JYhfFN86sjqBG5Cpi4820_JnClUzzdeR7v3jGAn74Mhv8xnbc8wwwzf-EhIg/s960/Sarah%20and%20me.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1VCHCIGDjTgwen3kq_gnKPOnTkSmsTqTgglMYXiW9Njiht8C6ner_ZeR2yDSJTSzP83aUoBJxe2w6YTt_pPXieYi1CxYIPCik00xtiqAmpt40PQ8UCuXhuSEgP9OgQ0JYhfFN86sjqBG5Cpi4820_JnClUzzdeR7v3jGAn74Mhv8xnbc8wwwzf-EhIg/w400-h266/Sarah%20and%20me.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fun with Sarah at Alan Davis beach</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hHE37n25a05JpbORo32PxDQo5hB1uLfXRCyT-xeGKM9sSGPNAowqwWJWEJkXK2KihQIGkEfCCGbPMVqaIaOB-rl5C7P_t7GOfPVtIp2-eho-LlXD9jad-XoKDRiNHPgWGXs589zoYbhThte79yokMjuqnUvz4yGDxy0Fo1LanvsW1wdGbALcJfcwFg/s960/Jimmy.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hHE37n25a05JpbORo32PxDQo5hB1uLfXRCyT-xeGKM9sSGPNAowqwWJWEJkXK2KihQIGkEfCCGbPMVqaIaOB-rl5C7P_t7GOfPVtIp2-eho-LlXD9jad-XoKDRiNHPgWGXs589zoYbhThte79yokMjuqnUvz4yGDxy0Fo1LanvsW1wdGbALcJfcwFg/w400-h300/Jimmy.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jimmy</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgki_7EGuBwZ6eLUrTBWRcXWBS-j1Mcc3eQ2jktYZW1CjtD2Vb3XuZWdDb-a6m0vJmi4KxTWLU5C2K4eR70NZNrLrmBnDGe4Dwj0vgaqc3A12V3IWfpc9yWLBJAHgHfvNfA0v1HpFf8XyCxe35GzRfChtIFLs7x4SYJbVSni8s9W-moZMZfgiafhz8Mgw/s2048/Byodo-In%20Templs.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1366" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgki_7EGuBwZ6eLUrTBWRcXWBS-j1Mcc3eQ2jktYZW1CjtD2Vb3XuZWdDb-a6m0vJmi4KxTWLU5C2K4eR70NZNrLrmBnDGe4Dwj0vgaqc3A12V3IWfpc9yWLBJAHgHfvNfA0v1HpFf8XyCxe35GzRfChtIFLs7x4SYJbVSni8s9W-moZMZfgiafhz8Mgw/w400-h266/Byodo-In%20Templs.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Byodo-In Temple</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">On our swing back through the (brrr...cold!) Bay Area enroute to Baja, we luckily were able to see old friends. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgko9O7bsNb14X2EPgWQr2830F8uuizuhLAO-3Ry_VAf8Ro3s5FnZ2RizJj_lFpVUT7BiQ68hILFVwmQ35qnnXhPWaCad7mtRfMnJOw1Q5v2zXh0yMNfRQEidwrUUp723h51VrKOVdBMHxYoS9brS23UVrYPx6YiPsI3wMzObXxed5qipTYctuGd7PZqQ/s960/Daisy%20kelly.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="678" data-original-width="960" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgko9O7bsNb14X2EPgWQr2830F8uuizuhLAO-3Ry_VAf8Ro3s5FnZ2RizJj_lFpVUT7BiQ68hILFVwmQ35qnnXhPWaCad7mtRfMnJOw1Q5v2zXh0yMNfRQEidwrUUp723h51VrKOVdBMHxYoS9brS23UVrYPx6YiPsI3wMzObXxed5qipTYctuGd7PZqQ/w400-h283/Daisy%20kelly.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brunch with Kelly and Daisy</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiViTWrfiXS_87y1lhTZ0yMJfi4wvTmy9hQUV5IsMQ9md5oau9QXs4Uh4v4nEzgzawx7a2pGhtrNa8aAO_i4wSjwO5GCLzthCYh-E3fK29AFDvxHGquk4L02MqT8yZM8GnvyFtBc8Yj6gHf6XUzmstju0rqYr05bjsxEMHVDo0KtnJwg-QLOojsM7L2kA/s2048/firends%20in%20CA.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiViTWrfiXS_87y1lhTZ0yMJfi4wvTmy9hQUV5IsMQ9md5oau9QXs4Uh4v4nEzgzawx7a2pGhtrNa8aAO_i4wSjwO5GCLzthCYh-E3fK29AFDvxHGquk4L02MqT8yZM8GnvyFtBc8Yj6gHf6XUzmstju0rqYr05bjsxEMHVDo0KtnJwg-QLOojsM7L2kA/w400-h300/firends%20in%20CA.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking with Roger and Marilen</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ah, it felt great to be back in Baja. But I didn't get to slow down for long because I'd enrolled in the Todos Santos Writers Workshop, expressly to work with <a href="https://www.janetfitchwrites.com/" target="_blank">Janet Fitch</a>, whose writing I deeply admire. (My god, if you haven't read her latest two books about the Russian revolution, do so now!) Keeping with the web-of-connection theme, my good friend Stacey knows Janet and told me what a great teacher she is--which proved to be true.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipeE9g0zijvePFRde97Bd7eMmBt3iS0EBzbLHamZKhOIgJDn6M3FE_KvTCc-8xQyBcMzW_Xw7RD4BJIOFn5uCzuABqaIij75wWiXFlE7E3RH7FpWNB8Jh3lLUttroMf7CuaLMml5wOG2koi-VxvDTiD_PkEsaW_zP5hpmlxBuAo3NVLBFLHaAl1hkMrw/s960/janet%20and%20andrew%20jaz.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="694" data-original-width="960" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipeE9g0zijvePFRde97Bd7eMmBt3iS0EBzbLHamZKhOIgJDn6M3FE_KvTCc-8xQyBcMzW_Xw7RD4BJIOFn5uCzuABqaIij75wWiXFlE7E3RH7FpWNB8Jh3lLUttroMf7CuaLMml5wOG2koi-VxvDTiD_PkEsaW_zP5hpmlxBuAo3NVLBFLHaAl1hkMrw/w400-h289/janet%20and%20andrew%20jaz.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Janet Fitch and husband, the writer<a href="https://andrewnichollswrites.com/about/" target="_blank"> Andrew Nicholls</a></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Here's what working with Janet did to my manuscript that I thought was finished:</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifshJWDt8GL6MoebDIYfhMcTpHFXGJzphAWkQMLADjdj2TBLql4c9VJ62qYOOIbqe4-qQHtgTIvY3nY54H1hPeGRc38uxIs3tQXmss3QRkSp-bKlX8T1doMzjtDlePS5V8UcQBefa5LWe_bgW8Z_d0V1pnEQ5knoMOsimnJefXff4SE0RtRZScqB_ztw/s2048/pages.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifshJWDt8GL6MoebDIYfhMcTpHFXGJzphAWkQMLADjdj2TBLql4c9VJ62qYOOIbqe4-qQHtgTIvY3nY54H1hPeGRc38uxIs3tQXmss3QRkSp-bKlX8T1doMzjtDlePS5V8UcQBefa5LWe_bgW8Z_d0V1pnEQ5knoMOsimnJefXff4SE0RtRZScqB_ztw/w400-h300/pages.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And Janet is the one who came up with <i>Wanderland</i> as my title. When such a great writer who has been an Oprah pick and has sold millions of books makes such a suggestion, I listen!</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And the webby theme continues: My friend Lisa, whom I hadn't seen in about thirty years, happened to attend the workshop as well. Being with her, the prism of years made me feel thirty and sixty. It was as though our hearts had been connected all this time.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkgZQnwWL0P74ntg1o5xj0EJEeW22jYhNYqnL5pn_DZQI0iqpoFeAGppF_KBfYO-aFRAIazKNdiXH88mSBj4bDkEZvosan5agx1fWtjIWx9G-ECaJGInza5u6x7ElgXQFK1hF98Fy9S0UIbWKDhhEsCXMQ2UoqL9gPy_SOajN_vWYo4oA_Hx7lwiQgeQ/s780/Lisa%20andrew%20me%20beach.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="780" data-original-width="747" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkgZQnwWL0P74ntg1o5xj0EJEeW22jYhNYqnL5pn_DZQI0iqpoFeAGppF_KBfYO-aFRAIazKNdiXH88mSBj4bDkEZvosan5agx1fWtjIWx9G-ECaJGInza5u6x7ElgXQFK1hF98Fy9S0UIbWKDhhEsCXMQ2UoqL9gPy_SOajN_vWYo4oA_Hx7lwiQgeQ/w383-h400/Lisa%20andrew%20me%20beach.jpg" width="383"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On Cerritos Beach with Lisa and Andrew</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Funny that I'm publishing a new book that explores the question, "What is home?" at the very time I'm starting to feel like Baja is home. We finally completed the process of becoming residents--which means we don't have to leave every 180 days. Even our blue Subaru, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, now has Baja plates.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnbFcm25EShkcqD9S3JaZM9SM8cNUmnJdBcbxN6RlvQFW9pg3Rg-FKb7PHk0AYNto3gqkbW0F6Ux-f6eriVwihMGKdPhM2rQ91-IF7WdT_Ozeb4mSwiIN4_rOPMq-AyMkQe3WxiJHPvpeWRG7-ws6OVLKOykxTSuEItFzV7M0-tz9QDLjhyPktnwPhkQ/s2048/visa.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1446" data-original-width="2048" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnbFcm25EShkcqD9S3JaZM9SM8cNUmnJdBcbxN6RlvQFW9pg3Rg-FKb7PHk0AYNto3gqkbW0F6Ux-f6eriVwihMGKdPhM2rQ91-IF7WdT_Ozeb4mSwiIN4_rOPMq-AyMkQe3WxiJHPvpeWRG7-ws6OVLKOykxTSuEItFzV7M0-tz9QDLjhyPktnwPhkQ/w400-h283/visa.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">residence card</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Not that we won't be continuing to travel and weave our web. But there's something about being here this time that feels...settling. In a good way. As though nine years in, my heart knows that no matter where I go, our Mexico nest awaits.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>
Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-66625621675726084042022-12-31T16:22:00.003-08:002022-12-31T16:22:23.434-08:00Happy 2023: The Year of No Improving!<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHqdOch6LI9mAt8Kt1NfOynwO43fd1DOJ6HOqqHjT0U_M-grBhcvKtJHE9ElzhrGiNpCQp3nMvBfBFwicd_JoMT2CJ-RzGjRvRNxD8CwYJoJsjOIhGMOWnjpwmvUYl8TMMMknEYC93-AWdDuVvA_RF5Q_1D6q9NsNuY7tDtliuNYhFAnFwKBmIEDMqVg/s2048/us%20in%20baja.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1590" data-original-width="2048" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHqdOch6LI9mAt8Kt1NfOynwO43fd1DOJ6HOqqHjT0U_M-grBhcvKtJHE9ElzhrGiNpCQp3nMvBfBFwicd_JoMT2CJ-RzGjRvRNxD8CwYJoJsjOIhGMOWnjpwmvUYl8TMMMknEYC93-AWdDuVvA_RF5Q_1D6q9NsNuY7tDtliuNYhFAnFwKBmIEDMqVg/w400-h310/us%20in%20baja.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">San Pedrito Beach, Baja California Sur, Mexico<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">In 2022: </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">We did 11 housesits in 3 countries (including 3 U.S. states). </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Along the way we took care of:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">15 dogs</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">3 cats</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">and 1 guinea pig</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">I finished writing my book about our itinerant life (title still in flux) and am hoping 2023 gifts me a publisher! In the meantime, you can read an excerpt that appeared in <i><a href="https://www.huffpost.com/entry/mistaken-cancer-diagnosis-doctor_n_639209bfe4b0804966aa66f2?fbclid=IwAR1N_lErsjq7m66_JqjKOMdMWm_r7cJY6i1-w15zKgzZyhBFaXo073csVtI" target="_blank">HuffPost</a></i>. The piece makes clear that our lifestyle isn't all champagne and roses.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">You can also watch <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=LhBwTGNB1_4&feature=youtu.be&fbclid=IwAR02mZhvR1rvVK9BQVhj1KmMnbDyjh1Ed3x6HlmVvTkE38PQ7nHgYsYrd-E" target="_blank">this interview</a> with Dave and me about housesitting all over the world. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Also, a <a href="https://issuu.com/housesittingmagazine/docs/house_sitting_magazine_issue_38?fbclid=IwAR1yvhJ6OMBhLQ89NHv3TELbpPwFutZmBdsiEt929IHZ-qUMfkiGnmw0Jzk" target="_blank">piece I wrote about housesitting in Mexico</a> appeared in <i>House Sitting Magazine</i>. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKIM3BgXM-DE9x0RvCZJgbhMMd_JD9ZrzAqydxAsuCs0D63mUJJ0OgFQuWJi1stJz7hX8T1MZQWvHN3srGV5RkxpGQT41MAXUP5HOGNpfG0jof096Ezj8XMp7QdjqBOXr-w2nzV80QpMYPiihixPXwGPiIMQrNqyA-7K9W4nJ8C1uGa9Zgl3XrcSkzg/s2048/landing%20in%20baja.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKIM3BgXM-DE9x0RvCZJgbhMMd_JD9ZrzAqydxAsuCs0D63mUJJ0OgFQuWJi1stJz7hX8T1MZQWvHN3srGV5RkxpGQT41MAXUP5HOGNpfG0jof096Ezj8XMp7QdjqBOXr-w2nzV80QpMYPiihixPXwGPiIMQrNqyA-7K9W4nJ8C1uGa9Zgl3XrcSkzg/w400-h300/landing%20in%20baja.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">landing in Baja</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">We had one flight cancellation...our first in nearly a decade of nomadic living. Our flight out of <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2022/11/panama-highs-lows.html" target="_blank">Panama </a>was cancelled. After a debacle of waiting for hours for our luggage and organizing all the passengers, American Airlines redeemed itself by putting us up in an all-inclusive resort for the night, including food and fancy rooms. They put us up in a crappy room the next night in Miami, but they paid so we couldn't complain (much). </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">It felt amazing to return to Baja and to our home. We hadn't lived in it for two years, so we had a lot of projects facing us, but we took them poco a poco. The area has exploded with construction so there's definitely more people and noise--and we lost our slice-of-ocean view. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlv0EnhTOA8LI_N0-TCP94VJ9XfC9x570SaLF88ZRUJmrrxU4esKYNd5a5WNhDkbBLT7l50Xu3fqSmrHHSYqfvsa40jH-lrs1Wu7bgoVVjp31qwZ9TlDlSfVexOYpGlj7SxEBbmtebQZXKGpkhcp07FHn_HuG2YJLhUvcM4HQBxbImAN4RaCKSwIcVmA/s871/dayof%20dead%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="728" data-original-width="871" height="334" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlv0EnhTOA8LI_N0-TCP94VJ9XfC9x570SaLF88ZRUJmrrxU4esKYNd5a5WNhDkbBLT7l50Xu3fqSmrHHSYqfvsa40jH-lrs1Wu7bgoVVjp31qwZ9TlDlSfVexOYpGlj7SxEBbmtebQZXKGpkhcp07FHn_HuG2YJLhUvcM4HQBxbImAN4RaCKSwIcVmA/w400-h334/dayof%20dead%202.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Day of the Dead in Todos Santos</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">But we still have a nice view of the hills and there are also more restaurants and activities. We saw a great outdoor production of <i>A Midsummer Night's Dream, </i>went to a music festival, attended the consecration of a Buddhist stupa and enjoyed a fantastic Day of the Dead celebration. We were happy to reconnect with our community and had a wonderful visit from our friend Nicole.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSvAckIID2w--6WpEi0ZmjIPLyoYCkVA8JlHRx9t9JnheDY9adPRP1Ji6lfSBdwWfW8OA7WnX5L-FyUVYrCWaoTFEMDxGYpuWivotSMbfBy_QABI2_CveuyhTSlMlo6tv1bbyb3szRWfmeB6RJTSDKO5DHJHoZAFTZ8_2BDUlYhhklXx3BjXhQMsJZg/s2048/rooftop%20with%20nicole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSvAckIID2w--6WpEi0ZmjIPLyoYCkVA8JlHRx9t9JnheDY9adPRP1Ji6lfSBdwWfW8OA7WnX5L-FyUVYrCWaoTFEMDxGYpuWivotSMbfBy_QABI2_CveuyhTSlMlo6tv1bbyb3szRWfmeB6RJTSDKO5DHJHoZAFTZ8_2BDUlYhhklXx3BjXhQMsJZg/w400-h300/rooftop%20with%20nicole.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">With Nicole on our rooftop</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><span>I</span>n the meantime I turned the epic age of 60. Especially after facing two major health crises in my fifties, I was grateful to be alive. But I kept seeing ads and articles for getting rid of wrinkles, for getting thin after menopause--voices that insist that "60 is the new 18!" or whatever. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">And I thought NO. Just NO. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I'm grateful to be 60. Too much of my life has been taken up with thinking that my body should be different than it is. So I decided that at age 60, </span><span style="font-family: arial;">I'm letting go of body shame and the toxic diet culture mindset (often wrapped in a pretty bow of "wellness") run by those who cash in on making us feel badly about ourselves and keep us on the "never good enough" treadmill. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;">Pema Chodron says that constantly focusing on improving is a violence to the self.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;">Besides, aging isn't a disease or a problem. It's a privilege.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Thi</span><span style="font-family: arial;">s leads me to my mantra for my sixties: NO RULES! I want to live improvisationally, allowing whatever is in front of me to inspire me to act rather than deciding in advance what I should/shouldn't do. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">I'm inviting in joy, relaxation, nature, naps, ambiguity, softening, reading, music, peace, creativity, humor, true connection with others, surrender and <i>being here now</i>. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Speaking of reading, I read 65 books in 2022 (see my reviews <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/user_challenges/31785100" target="_blank">here</a>) and am constantly grateful for those who tell their stories.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: arial; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijYSK1yQr30_-62X8bU3lxaB8bUrhK-B17WUm8v1iYwh1py4yKfJLYdw3G4x3cAk0gXm941SVm5W2YIx21Gq3LnakuckNdXevRywO7iSYz6j4JPsouHp1COatGItTviscEwgkyt4x_M86VEDEaNCBgcTtvjLY45xl2mKtPecrWtIT2K1nyYxV73CRm0Q/s563/bdfriends.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="563" data-original-width="409" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijYSK1yQr30_-62X8bU3lxaB8bUrhK-B17WUm8v1iYwh1py4yKfJLYdw3G4x3cAk0gXm941SVm5W2YIx21Gq3LnakuckNdXevRywO7iSYz6j4JPsouHp1COatGItTviscEwgkyt4x_M86VEDEaNCBgcTtvjLY45xl2mKtPecrWtIT2K1nyYxV73CRm0Q/w290-h400/bdfriends.jpg" width="290" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Shannon, Anne, Laurie, Nancy & me<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;">To celebrate my new decade, four amazing women joined me in Cabo for a week at a wellness retreat center. I know each one from a different part of my life; together we created a colorful mosaic of friendship. I ended our time together floating on a cloud of love.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrrymJcLlNYJfEVCc6cz7X2GV0mu5aG8299g7u1VXmLGELu97k4UAHqCqLhKez9-gwKc3iN8dzUy7VT1AIeFevwUo9RNh8ZYa1umsrSpdyzbxVAMr2d931yYPa0EojMdFW7CmaES4hNc2fW9ltS4OQ_pL-qGBT69z-7eJzQeTVn4600ChM8FdPlOZURA/s2048/walking%20deva.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1412" data-original-width="2048" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrrymJcLlNYJfEVCc6cz7X2GV0mu5aG8299g7u1VXmLGELu97k4UAHqCqLhKez9-gwKc3iN8dzUy7VT1AIeFevwUo9RNh8ZYa1umsrSpdyzbxVAMr2d931yYPa0EojMdFW7CmaES4hNc2fW9ltS4OQ_pL-qGBT69z-7eJzQeTVn4600ChM8FdPlOZURA/w400-h276/walking%20deva.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Walking on Cerritos Beach with Deva, our neighbor's dog.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">I think my sixties are going to be cool. Is it a cliche that I started playing Pickleball and went to my first Zumba class? I'm not sure if I'll continue on with either one regularly. No rules, remember? I'll decide each day, sometimes each moment, how I want to spend my living time.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihz-FQSh7E_mmGgKAgSH36y8N6U9AazaS0qYqAXpDYF2ieGy2HYzPSdA8rheB4LNKG5CIpqnvZXLGcDdFLP0Uoqd6ozLmAnks9Ui7zAK4CPjAkIrKPfSL4QGLNE1aCICb0I9gblJwny5W-iChDiWCEqx9V-kRC0c_zaHuCJelgH2xAPy1QVem92Iwy9g/s960/60%20years%20ago%20with%20mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihz-FQSh7E_mmGgKAgSH36y8N6U9AazaS0qYqAXpDYF2ieGy2HYzPSdA8rheB4LNKG5CIpqnvZXLGcDdFLP0Uoqd6ozLmAnks9Ui7zAK4CPjAkIrKPfSL4QGLNE1aCICb0I9gblJwny5W-iChDiWCEqx9V-kRC0c_zaHuCJelgH2xAPy1QVem92Iwy9g/w300-h400/60%20years%20ago%20with%20mom.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Me with Mom, 60 years ago</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">The actual day of my birthday in November we spent with my sister and some friends at her new, gorgeous house in Todos Santos. The food (especially my sister's homemade carrot cake) and company were great, as was the music jam: three guitars and my uke.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrikbSnkoR5V4L4XjittmheYhRejpnhfFHNkmcxuioNCcwwGIroVwo1kSuyaqFz2dvslghYbGb8uiMIT4m9MNBIyCX_9f7tJ69vDw_KeMUozJ3IYFjfPHWeOv4wAbHcSQPfttqL4YaXYuwL9FFg2fSSNinUf_-3GnnZMSOPpdLxvr944RSiewwMKlhDg/s960/hawaii%20kai.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="960" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrikbSnkoR5V4L4XjittmheYhRejpnhfFHNkmcxuioNCcwwGIroVwo1kSuyaqFz2dvslghYbGb8uiMIT4m9MNBIyCX_9f7tJ69vDw_KeMUozJ3IYFjfPHWeOv4wAbHcSQPfttqL4YaXYuwL9FFg2fSSNinUf_-3GnnZMSOPpdLxvr944RSiewwMKlhDg/w400-h285/hawaii%20kai.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Hawaii housesit view from the lanai.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">We left Mexico after two months to housesit in Hawaii. So we will be ringing in the new year in aloha spirit. But after this we are headed back to Baja to settle in for a while. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Happy New Year to all. Here's a Tibetan Buddhist Blessing that I send to everyone:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><i>May you be filled with loving kindness. </i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><i>May you be well. </i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><i>May you be peaceful and at ease. </i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><i>May you be happy. </i></span></p>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-18066773230369738902022-11-19T10:45:00.003-08:002023-12-16T07:12:10.389-08:00Panama Highs & Lows<div>NOTE: SADLY, FOR SOME UNKNOWN REASON, BLOGGER DELETED ALL THE PICTURES ON THIS POST.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Villa Palma Boutique Hotel</div><div><br /></div><div>No other trip in our time as nomads has taken us to such highs and lows as Panama. </div><div><br /></div><div>We began the journey in Panama City, staying in a darling hotel in Casco Viejo, the old quarter built in 1673 after the original city was burnt to the ground. The Governor had it set on fire when he got word pirates were coming to attack and loot it. That's one way to spite your enemies.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Casco Viejo</div><div><br /></div><div>We visited the remains of the original city, now a World Heritage Site, with Carlos, our guide. He was the first of many amazing people we'd meet in Panama, a highlight of our time there. </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Carlos & me</div><div><br /></div><div>Originally from Venezuela, Carlos is a single dad to two teens boys. I was amazed by his resourcefulness. During the pandemic his tour guide business tanked so he started cooking and selling food to neighbors. He did some legal consulting work, and he recently became a day stock trader. He pulls together all of this employment to support his family and so that his kids can go to a private school and play club-level soccer.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Screw Tower</div><div><br /></div><div>His knowledge of the city was mind-boggling. When we drove around, he pointed out the wacky design of one high rise called Screw Tower, which he joked houses lawyers. We also saw the financial district, toured the high-end Jewish area that housed descendants of many who escaped the horrors of Europe, and crossed the Bridge of the Americas for lunch on the peninsula. Later, at the Panama Canal, we watched the technological marvel of a ship coming through the locks. </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>the canal</div><div><br /></div><div>Carlos pointed to a statue depicting Panamanian students who pulled down an American flag and put up a Panamanian flag in protest of the occupation. One was shot and killed, and that sparked deeper sentiment to oust the U.S. military. It took another forty years, but the U.S. finally ceded its massive landholds that had excluded Panamanians, including high-end properties and even the first McDonald's that allowed only U.S. citizens.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Lots of murals everywhere</div><div><br /></div><div>I asked Carlos how the U.S. could have done better, and he said investing in the Panamanian economy and integrating into its society over their 80 years in the country. I hadn't realized that part of the U.S. military agreement to exit included dismantling the Panamanian military. So everyone we saw in a uniform was some version of police, not military...even those guarding the President who lived down the street from our hotel. In return, the U.S. agreed to have Panama's back in any conflict. Let's hope that is lived up to if, god forbid, it is ever needed. </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Panama City skyline from Casco Viejo</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I love meeting world citizens and learning about their lives...and soon had another opportunity. At a restaurant eating breakfast, we chatted with the only other guests, two women with an adorable toddler. </div><div><br /></div><div>The mother is a 32-year-old German who has lived most of her life in the U.S. In her early twenties she worked as a cocktail waitress to save up money to travel the world for four months before entering medical school. Now she was a traveling M.D. who went all over the world to practice. Two years earlier, she got medically inseminated and became pregnant on her first try. </div><div><br /></div><div>The other young woman was her au pair from South Africa. She does MMA (mixed martial arts), bakes wedding cakes, models part time, draws animation, has exquisite tats, and has volunteered as a teacher for street kids. She loves traveling so this was the perfect job for her.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>about to land at Bocas del Toro</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Soon it was time to head to our first housesit, so we boarded a small plane that took us on the one-hour flight to Bocas del Toro, an island archipelago on the Caribbean. While we waited for our luggage at the tiny airport, a local guy played the guitar and sang "Don't Worry, Be Happy" and other island-inspired songs.</div><div><br /></div><div>The homeowner, Carmen, gave us the biggest heart-hug I've even gotten from someone I'd met only by text. We followed her through the dusty streets of Colon, the central of nine main islands that make up Bocas del Toro. Most of the islands are car-free. I liked the feeling that I was plopped down into a completely new world, where people speaking a melodic Patois sold fried chicken and empanadas and meandered around on bikes and by foot. </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>You can see the house we stayed in nearly hidden in the palms.</div><div><br /></div><div>Carmen, who is Dutch, led us to a dock, where we boarded a boat for the 15-minute ride to Bastimentos Island, our home for the next month, caring for two loveable dogs, Stormy and Thunder.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Stormy on the dock</div><div><br /></div><div>Carmen and Marcel's place is a BnB with several rooms and their own open-air home with a big kitchen where Carmen whipped up delicious food. Her culinary skills were the highlight of the five-star TripAdvisor reviews I'd read. Usually we secure sits through a website, but in this case I'd posted about us on a Facebook page featuring Bocas del Toro housesits...and a few days later a Carmen had contacted me.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>exploring Colon</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Renting power-assist bikes made for a fun day.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>We'd been excited about the idea of living on an island--and indeed, the place had warm turquoise waters, palms trees, the works. However, challenges immediately became apparent. That night we found it hard to sleep in the humid heat with no A/C or a circulating fan, unsupportable in this off-grid place run on solar. While I worried about my ability to adapt, I tried to focus on the adventure of it all. Sitting in their home overlooking the dock and watching a spectacular sunset, my inner kid got a little giddy at the notion of living in the Swiss Family Robinson treehouse with a dock where we could jump in the kayak and go snorkeling at nearby reefs.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Unreal colors</div><div><br /></div><div>I admired Carmen and Marcel's ability to relax into island life as lived by the locals. They were around our age but totally adapted to things that were a steep learning curve for us, such as walking the dogs on narrow, steep and often slippery pathways; handling all the house systems and their backups; and making meals from limited available foods. We also soon learn we'd have to try to sleep with late-night night party music blasting from the other side of the island. </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Swiss Family Robinson-esque</div><div><br /></div><div>In our few days together, the hosts generously fed us, showed us all the important details (such as propping up a flag at the end of the dock to signal a water taxi to come get us) and took us out to dinner one night on Colon with ten of their good friends. There we met the owners of the Floating Bar, and another couple who picked us up every Monday in their boat to take us there for live music.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Laura, the Floating Bar owner, jumping into the Caribbean Sea.</div><div><br /></div><div>What a cool scene, to be dancing with a crew of Panamanians, expats and travelers then, hot and sweaty, jumping into the sea. I also attended a few morning yoga sessions at the Floating Bar.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Floating Bar band</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Because Bocas del Toro was a happening tourist spot, there were many kinds of restaurants on Colon, including a delicious Chinese place run by Chinese immigrants, as were the grocery stores. Hearing them speak Mandarin flooded me with memories of our time in Nanning, and I greeted the cashiers with a smiling nihao. </div><div><br /></div><div>We also found several places that served delectable whole fried fish. However, prices weren't what I'd call low...and getting to these places required paying a water taxi $5 per person each way.</div><div><br /></div><div>Through our online groups, we discovered another nomadic couple from the U.S. housesitting the next island over. We ended up spending some wonderful days with Sarah and Jimmy, going out on boats to explore Red Frog Beach and the remote Zapatilla Islands, the definition of paradise with pure white sand and swimmable turquoise waters.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>On one of our adventures.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>On the way to Zapatilla, a glimpse of which is in the distance.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Sloth! </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>We loved the Bocas boating life, the people we met, our time in the water, the creatures we saw. We agreed we would return if we had a place where we could retreat from the elements. The off-grid rain forest island life was sublime yet physically demanding and could be mitigated with a sealed, cool room to retreat and rest.</div><div><br /></div><div>For our next sit we headed to Playa Morrillo, on the Pacific side of the country, taking a four-hour bus ride from Panama City to Santiago and were picked up by Gisela, the Swiss homeowner--and once again I was struck by how cool it is to meet a virtual stranger whose life we'd be living.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>kale and lettuce, freshly picked</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>She took us grocery shopping in the city, encouraging us to stock up because we'd be spending six weeks at their home in Punta Duarte, nearly two hours away on mostly bumpy dirt roads, and food acquisition would be limited with two small grocery stores and a produce stand. There were a few restaurants, mostly small local places called fondas, which served meat or fish, rice, beans and plantains. We also met a guy who cut greens directly out of his garden to sell. What a character. He toured us around his property and chatted for so long that a trip to get veggies took nearly two hours.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>View from patio off living room.</div><div><br /></div><div>The house was a stunner. It had a huge kitchen and living room with plate glass windows that overlooked the yard and pool--and, thank god, fans and AC. In fact, our hosts insisted we run the AC in the main house and the three casitas for several hours most days to keep the mold away. </div><div><br /></div><div>Most days we hiked to the beach with the dogs and trudged back up steep and slippery terrain, stripping off our clothes and diving in the pool. Cheers to no visible neighbors! The gardener who came every week didn't touch the pool or mow, so pool and lawn maintenance were left up to Dave. Similar to the Bocas couple, this couple was about our age and hearty as hell. In spite of the AC, living there and taking care of our tasks was like pounding out hours at the gym every day.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Loved this daily beach walk with the dogs.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Dave and I talked about how every time we do a housesit there's an adjustment to the pets, neighborhood, house, location--which can be fun and stimulating, but also demanding. Both of our housesits in Panama turned out to require significant adjustments and more work and discomfort than we'd been prepared for due to their off-grid natures in humid environments. Living off-grid in Central America is peaceful yet it's not for wimps. </div><div><br /></div><div>In the thick atmosphere and howler monkeys eerily baying in the trees, it felt like being on another planet. At times I'd be walking alone through the jungle then emerge at a secluded beach and feel like I was the only person left in the world.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>One of the many creature sightings.</div><div><br /></div><div>Twice a week Dave got up at 6:30 a.m. to pick up the house cleaner and then return her a few hours later, a 45-minute ride down rutted roads each way. The homeowners left the money for her pay and gas, and we appreciated having a clean home. Also, she was a lovely woman, and I liked speaking Spanish to her because she'd correct me when I said things wrong. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>howler monkey</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>But the first day Dave got in the car to pick her up, it wouldn't start. The truth about living in the rain forest: the climate breaks things. Fortunately, we were able to borrow a car from Roger, the neighbor who, with his pack of dogs, was often the only other one at the beach. While we were grateful to have a vehicle, this was his beater car, an SUV with mold-eaten interior. It was like sitting inside rotting walnut.</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>jungle walk</div><div><br /></div><div>Once we were driving with Beto, the gardener, in a downpour and the windshield wipers stopped, blinding us to the road. Beto told us to stop at a road crew construction site where he spoke rapidly in Spanish to a guy who dismounted from a tractor. It took him five minutes to fix our wipers, and he wouldn't take the money we offered. Later when we passed another road crew, I asked Beto if those guys were also his friends. He laughed and said, yes, they all were!</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>Parrots hung out near the house.</div><div><br /></div><div>And then guess what happened? We caught Covid. Ironic that we'd contract it in one of the most isolated places we'd ever been. Must have happened at the tiny grocery store with dusty shelves. While we miserably nestled in bed, the dogs had to walk themselves (owner-approved) and returned looking like mud mummies. Had I mentioned it was the rainy season?</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div>With Roger, may he rest in peace.</div><div><br /></div><div>Fortunately, a week later we were back to our chores, sweaty walks, and heavenly pool swims. But then the unthinkable happened. We went to return Roger's car, only to discover he'd died the day before after having had back surgery in Panama City. Stunned, we thought about how life can change dramatically in one breath. </div><div><br /></div><div>I thought about all the people we'd met in Panama, and all across the globe on our journeys. Even though he left this plane, Roger would always be part of our web of connection.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>***</div><div><br /></div><div>Have a look at the video interview we did with Travel Live Learn:</div><div><br /></div><div>House sitting in retirement – 9 years of freedom! - YouTube</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>*** </div><div>PS: Books make great holiday gifts!</div><div><br /></div><div>Call it Wonder: An Odyssey of Love, Sex, Spirit & Travel (award-winning memoir)</div><div><br /></div><div>For the May Queen (coming of age in the dorms in 1980, with lots of sex, drugs & rock n roll)</div><div><br /></div><div>Complementary Colors (what happens when a straight woman falls in love with a lesbian)</div><div><br /></div><div>Revolutionary Kiss, co-authored with Mary Janelle Melvin under the name Mary Kate Summers (love story set during the French Revolution)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-31389768132279158902022-09-23T15:06:00.007-07:002022-09-26T00:10:23.282-07:00Housesitting near Lake Chapala, Mexico<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPGyQLtY0j-KMw6JmCojJ6Hp-sInladJSpl7mM6fkjuzb5kFWhwBl95-vVZC9-Ytf29H4WLztIHnB-PXUaWtEKIDvnl3X9-EdY2ffPv4vqUMzBXg9wmtQlLOinQQGLnoN6JU7AlhqeTlk-hVfoCB5z_cJTiCQoNHegygOW9Rv662nFS2S0MkGElTyt0w/s2048/Dave%20with%20Chole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1591" data-original-width="2048" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPGyQLtY0j-KMw6JmCojJ6Hp-sInladJSpl7mM6fkjuzb5kFWhwBl95-vVZC9-Ytf29H4WLztIHnB-PXUaWtEKIDvnl3X9-EdY2ffPv4vqUMzBXg9wmtQlLOinQQGLnoN6JU7AlhqeTlk-hVfoCB5z_cJTiCQoNHegygOW9Rv662nFS2S0MkGElTyt0w/w400-h311/Dave%20with%20Chole.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dave and Chloe on the San Antonio malecon</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Our home base is in <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=baja" target="_blank">Baja Sur</a>, but there's so much of the huge country of Mexico that we haven't seen. So when an opportunity came up to do a six-week housesit near Lake Chapala, the largest lake in Mexico which is surrounded by mountains, we jumped on it. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNUuqGLQc4vvQ2TTcDwQWWIcNcfGKBM4w59Fe_0W5hT_vVp8LTef_R4IYVrYirqBqWESJY6lYxAtWjn8KA97YJETjewIha2-WzyVViyEkU_Udkxp3J6H1JpR-e98xvgAqgKnsWH4XMFs89nusRcMThBQXCRxdxOxpBwOY-dgR1vCf-wjBl3XUOt4OO4Q/s1799/wings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></a></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-family: "Times New Roman"; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-transform: none; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3R2RkNlXUl_srRCe2uVKvegk_qEvfjn0fg62jMFyF55Wu281hIoCIke2IkmirRrsEF0HsobmH23XV3unKHi5W_4Hgc6lJG7YhPUDHIuaW0SQ08-AxlDxlZW5JEhn6h-D2dCrL7iDC-TL8DRjZ6jJZublPRLZRVzAUVkrntUdi8FDgJu0mfmBroEQPzA/s2048/horse%20this%20one.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3R2RkNlXUl_srRCe2uVKvegk_qEvfjn0fg62jMFyF55Wu281hIoCIke2IkmirRrsEF0HsobmH23XV3unKHi5W_4Hgc6lJG7YhPUDHIuaW0SQ08-AxlDxlZW5JEhn6h-D2dCrL7iDC-TL8DRjZ6jJZublPRLZRVzAUVkrntUdi8FDgJu0mfmBroEQPzA/w400-h266/horse%20this%20one.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Along the San Antonio malecon<br>the most pastoral of the three.<br><br></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">The Chapala community is primarily made up of three towns on the north shore of the lake: Ajijic, San Antonio Tlyacapan (where we were), and Chapala--each with a town center and a malecon or esplanade along the lakeside. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxi7OIsV3sB-LQM6pkXqSWjaSGwlCJLU1elFOJtk2ZfMLqWiKx8cLePumXtu30wV91zDV_uc4BX-ZRoqBsJfGs75EB4NAD9bIc2_81vaQap0Ni8l9_sB0uCppiQ4baqZj5eAjaSX8UjLATEhdIvf6BoAtLw4GYkruqUOXwckHkDT2aP7xl_B58MVFcxw/s2048/Ajijic%20malecon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1564" data-original-width="2048" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxi7OIsV3sB-LQM6pkXqSWjaSGwlCJLU1elFOJtk2ZfMLqWiKx8cLePumXtu30wV91zDV_uc4BX-ZRoqBsJfGs75EB4NAD9bIc2_81vaQap0Ni8l9_sB0uCppiQ4baqZj5eAjaSX8UjLATEhdIvf6BoAtLw4GYkruqUOXwckHkDT2aP7xl_B58MVFcxw/w400-h305/Ajijic%20malecon.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ajijic malecon</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;">Ajijic is a charming pueblo, heavy with expats, covered in murals and dotted with boutiques, galleries, open-air cafes and specialty restaurants. San Antonio Tylacapan is much smaller, with a pastoral malecon and a downtown so tiny it's easy to miss. Chapala is where Mexican families tend to come from Guadalajara a weekend or longer holiday. Its malecon is lively in the afternoons and evenings, with vendors and big, touristy seafood restaurants playing live music.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJqbW5vMK662enqtjdwQrCxG9Tg6YCirwBMrBkbsIFf_pxfP-BEDcyiOep99lQn8_891BazIxsv2doV0zK5nhuwp6IsgsZC3n_UEksfazNjgeRSSNSD5oTl5CSLecEYf-0eDw42hlDD1MywmxBgke6VZW-6HtqfmQsyCHM2hfKq_5PpWSF1YsLbNDB4w/s2048/Ajijic%20art%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJqbW5vMK662enqtjdwQrCxG9Tg6YCirwBMrBkbsIFf_pxfP-BEDcyiOep99lQn8_891BazIxsv2doV0zK5nhuwp6IsgsZC3n_UEksfazNjgeRSSNSD5oTl5CSLecEYf-0eDw42hlDD1MywmxBgke6VZW-6HtqfmQsyCHM2hfKq_5PpWSF1YsLbNDB4w/w400-h300/Ajijic%20art%202.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One wall in Ajijic...</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-W-4xg5TybbKSF7wmYwosBquF1fBwytOzlUe0SJkhHTjw9qEh5S0OwLXkYL3FhXDmDq7fDPLo6Bx9wkx177rdoq28DmtQYGNbnRc7s7u_zZIYDkD9yK2lUIeKndJ10l0eB4EOIMnl2MWJzLn2mHm_tIZW6OHhJ4S-fvzloTNPiHWcV4nrOXwHzYWIA/s2048/Ajijic%20art.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-W-4xg5TybbKSF7wmYwosBquF1fBwytOzlUe0SJkhHTjw9qEh5S0OwLXkYL3FhXDmDq7fDPLo6Bx9wkx177rdoq28DmtQYGNbnRc7s7u_zZIYDkD9yK2lUIeKndJ10l0eB4EOIMnl2MWJzLn2mHm_tIZW6OHhJ4S-fvzloTNPiHWcV4nrOXwHzYWIA/w400-h300/Ajijic%20art.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and another.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">A two-lane road winds through, connecting these communities. One main road means traffic, especially since the area has experienced a growth boom. Fortunately, there's also a bike path. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZN65HsJ2x5rNhS-g7TxMUbBeVtaw0DajZW6ZWX2CP4D5-zFiCnzZ9KqMkZ8UyLb1k50Ji2LJyUFLTr0lVLSXEW52mkeBHyuv7p3447oBlv8AmNcH2sa8MzH0h3z4c6d9A9Uxojy_simrcAo_D6IudCQSHbOqm9t6EedLLP8JVkNYt_YzdNIrHV446IA/s2048/tamales.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZN65HsJ2x5rNhS-g7TxMUbBeVtaw0DajZW6ZWX2CP4D5-zFiCnzZ9KqMkZ8UyLb1k50Ji2LJyUFLTr0lVLSXEW52mkeBHyuv7p3447oBlv8AmNcH2sa8MzH0h3z4c6d9A9Uxojy_simrcAo_D6IudCQSHbOqm9t6EedLLP8JVkNYt_YzdNIrHV446IA/w400-h300/tamales.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">vegan tamales & cacao drinks in Ajijic</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_te4tfJz9QqtPf1Q0s-uB9IUm_xmg1qWPiYSAHKAJmXswTPfV5u9CH4NNqXqw9jRlmURxg1ctdliPFcEFKGCeLsy_TZEzxm64ohFcpQeqDKkUHtXc6FWHfldp0nytov_iSkqsJEPUk51LnHjeYAS_NmgMt7qSHcUkcD3aeSlNZnhctDANBnnhtHkr8g/s2048/Tacos%20frita.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_te4tfJz9QqtPf1Q0s-uB9IUm_xmg1qWPiYSAHKAJmXswTPfV5u9CH4NNqXqw9jRlmURxg1ctdliPFcEFKGCeLsy_TZEzxm64ohFcpQeqDKkUHtXc6FWHfldp0nytov_iSkqsJEPUk51LnHjeYAS_NmgMt7qSHcUkcD3aeSlNZnhctDANBnnhtHkr8g/w400-h300/Tacos%20frita.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">non-vegan tacos</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br><br></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLsp8EVSQg8BDIe2Eu2LOBHq6ciJTmgceElTT4-czMLxLbLJSJBO_D-NTgJ8Prn0Uk-V5yLcdoAx3Nub2TTwI0CBzjQLmSPpKOxoaqkkSvzOmIDoGhKwheOe0wGRQff31gLdBpmtEwXTb2z9vj0zsUBFMCrGO3nBys02dudyOtb9VlRtjzUOQ5zzI8XA/s2048/CHAPALA%20drinks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLsp8EVSQg8BDIe2Eu2LOBHq6ciJTmgceElTT4-czMLxLbLJSJBO_D-NTgJ8Prn0Uk-V5yLcdoAx3Nub2TTwI0CBzjQLmSPpKOxoaqkkSvzOmIDoGhKwheOe0wGRQff31gLdBpmtEwXTb2z9vj0zsUBFMCrGO3nBys02dudyOtb9VlRtjzUOQ5zzI8XA/w400-h300/CHAPALA%20drinks.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green drink for me, fresh OJ for Dave in Chapala.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">The growth is due mainly to retired expats, primarily from the U.S. and Canada, coming to a place where prices for real estate and health care are much more affordable. The good weather (it's usually in the 70s) is a draw as well. Food, however, seemed to us to not be as low cost, unless you bought street tacos and shopped at fruterias. That may be because a lot of the restaurants and grocery stores are geared to the expats and Mexican tourists. This means, too, there are many places to eat delicious meals.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQtpZsGWT17HjUV8cZ_VfArYWnlJ3eX-EmKFm3vuLXhxhXkcFT_qaSSLhfWbFHfKaV2k2mzKQVcNhiAmfrAObogL0zmED-Bj6BklsqXKyffetu5CpMOJqh5yRTazyXRc2IDToiNlAE8csPfuLetNhma0Bmqb3sw8IhSr_V8d6RNVHqVDXv8c8h-6uiw/s2048/Ajijic%20vegan%20food.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQtpZsGWT17HjUV8cZ_VfArYWnlJ3eX-EmKFm3vuLXhxhXkcFT_qaSSLhfWbFHfKaV2k2mzKQVcNhiAmfrAObogL0zmED-Bj6BklsqXKyffetu5CpMOJqh5yRTazyXRc2IDToiNlAE8csPfuLetNhma0Bmqb3sw8IhSr_V8d6RNVHqVDXv8c8h-6uiw/w400-h300/Ajijic%20vegan%20food.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vegan burgers in Ajijic</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;">We flew into Guadalajara, and the hosts picked us up and drove us an hour south to their home, a lovely place with a pool and a view. We didn't make much use of the pool, however, because it never got hot enough to be appealing--and eventually because of all of the rain, the gardener was having a hard time keeping it clean. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb5q6T3_MJZYu94tc2X-1Gg6V3k4IkeZO9FfzAVaa5qtAgu-Bqt8jr0D1D47ilwPs2wSe1VpQJSgE94-Gq4C2_MsJTHxr4eAaMP-2Rz-4LrBaDt625yLZGJJeUzEfT7iWCDoVdFUte9JwR-jUr6-waSQ-O__7ymSjrakxS2alT11s0-Eby2MOnC0TfFA/s2048/Chapal%20malecon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb5q6T3_MJZYu94tc2X-1Gg6V3k4IkeZO9FfzAVaa5qtAgu-Bqt8jr0D1D47ilwPs2wSe1VpQJSgE94-Gq4C2_MsJTHxr4eAaMP-2Rz-4LrBaDt625yLZGJJeUzEfT7iWCDoVdFUte9JwR-jUr6-waSQ-O__7ymSjrakxS2alT11s0-Eby2MOnC0TfFA/w400-h300/Chapal%20malecon.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lake is picturesque but unfortunately too polluted to swim in.</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;">We were there during rainy season, a time of year many said is their favorite because there are fewer people around and less dust. Several times storms woke us in the middle of the night. Once, for at least an hour, the rain dumped like someone had overturned the lake in the sky, during which time there was no space between thunder and lightning. The booming exploded and flashes lit up the bedroom in a continuous, epic melee.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-large;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbcLvnn834poEt4zz-AZjCoDWZX-V0H2JqlEFlaCGyNdfULzmpyeP4gi00wO99e32BuNjfbO-GOA6UzeylDpMYfnizNKzqGGYNhYeo61MFLooD6McZstsloZXxD1nn-_q1AIcbK4t5ewX7H2Pv_MvXLKzYBcBjJDlUw9B2WUe_r2zQwPAsd-6sMT0wkA/s2048/hiking%20with%20Chloe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbcLvnn834poEt4zz-AZjCoDWZX-V0H2JqlEFlaCGyNdfULzmpyeP4gi00wO99e32BuNjfbO-GOA6UzeylDpMYfnizNKzqGGYNhYeo61MFLooD6McZstsloZXxD1nn-_q1AIcbK4t5ewX7H2Pv_MvXLKzYBcBjJDlUw9B2WUe_r2zQwPAsd-6sMT0wkA/w400-h266/hiking%20with%20Chloe.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happily there was a green space where we could walk <br>Chloe off-leash not far from the house </td></tr></tbody></table><br><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;">All this rain meant we got to see waterfalls in action when we went hiking in the mountains. Nice trails are easily accessible from Ajijic. We also walked with Chloe, the sweet dog in our care, every day. The walks weren't easy, though, since we had to get acclimated to the 5,000-foot elevation and also because the streets out the door were sharply hilly and unevenly cobbled. Those charming but challenging cobbles are a feature everywhere in the area.</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4vT9dl7tQRmi9hMpnF1ysrG-lWPzLsULvyYb7PjrvtUS_-rh7vw347thoG59qAJGObjdgExDNyGrl5Y9864pO5k4VwkmZM233e8iLTSXuLQCygqkikXTTRkRQuLZNs8MGnKqIWSf1Mx1U86HzX9PUjnUpzmHa51b8wlDKAHXnzqtSTdChqs7jhpc-Xg/s2048/Housesit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1393" data-original-width="2048" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4vT9dl7tQRmi9hMpnF1ysrG-lWPzLsULvyYb7PjrvtUS_-rh7vw347thoG59qAJGObjdgExDNyGrl5Y9864pO5k4VwkmZM233e8iLTSXuLQCygqkikXTTRkRQuLZNs8MGnKqIWSf1Mx1U86HzX9PUjnUpzmHa51b8wlDKAHXnzqtSTdChqs7jhpc-Xg/w400-h272/Housesit.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">our digs<br><br></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibT5Sxk6VjCu8ogDLb_1CvBH1C4ONe90j09CnPMYZPkiYaA_UVd1DnyPUrGTOklep5jIR5_HNIZWnYnQYK453hTMVYZ06TWnWyQl_OOV9NPwFVrnDcovawV6Q6ck5AIl5Ot5XGYjbeH4pGs9k5J-rBvGHMLP4bFQRetNBSGxaB2V28dNQ_evnS-3Xy0A/s2048/CHAPALA%20pool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibT5Sxk6VjCu8ogDLb_1CvBH1C4ONe90j09CnPMYZPkiYaA_UVd1DnyPUrGTOklep5jIR5_HNIZWnYnQYK453hTMVYZ06TWnWyQl_OOV9NPwFVrnDcovawV6Q6ck5AIl5Ot5XGYjbeH4pGs9k5J-rBvGHMLP4bFQRetNBSGxaB2V28dNQ_evnS-3Xy0A/w400-h300/CHAPALA%20pool.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">back yard</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Before they left, the homeowners introduced us to their neighbors who were heading out in a few weeks and who, in turn, introduced us to <i>their </i>housesitters, Cathie and Brian, a couple from the U.S. who were traveling throughout Mexico with their dog.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUgyNnOsw2MHdJTYpr_3x-7PcbcabCzFW1EPdBlaKoCYEf2DQuE_xaCtAxaBCQU8iz0B2x4eHR6ntNq5roOHz6sqYk3ufhj7Ui-Sv1x5q0F-L2MhgwWCsCe8kdnpDDD2PNI_dnhFHGJ4WXph4kQjGoOYjoV2wY1yHHjQF2lmWJtHYwOjxvfDO2wGfQsQ/s2048/sunset.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1530" data-original-width="2048" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUgyNnOsw2MHdJTYpr_3x-7PcbcabCzFW1EPdBlaKoCYEf2DQuE_xaCtAxaBCQU8iz0B2x4eHR6ntNq5roOHz6sqYk3ufhj7Ui-Sv1x5q0F-L2MhgwWCsCe8kdnpDDD2PNI_dnhFHGJ4WXph4kQjGoOYjoV2wY1yHHjQF2lmWJtHYwOjxvfDO2wGfQsQ/w400-h299/sunset.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset from Cathie & Brian's pad</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">I received a message from a friend in Baja who told me that <i>her </i>housesitters scheduled to arrive in a couple of months, Dodo and Sven from Germany, were currently in Ajijic. So we six housesitters met up a couple of times and shared stories about our wanderlust. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpgwKKI5EeIzHspkcRXZDU9puMqL7NEAJWJzjNKgvTi4oVNfDoH9WKqEsN_Q_brbW3leuifGNVCEaODQOIlnJLybAV_n83WyMODHuWqOAt61TcFz-vHNcBcjhDAFAaOqs-xnqCSLJEtRyOqp0tpKueEv98S2-3HFToCbOS129B6rFapGh_lJNyUc_3kA/s2048/FREINDS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1476" data-original-width="2048" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpgwKKI5EeIzHspkcRXZDU9puMqL7NEAJWJzjNKgvTi4oVNfDoH9WKqEsN_Q_brbW3leuifGNVCEaODQOIlnJLybAV_n83WyMODHuWqOAt61TcFz-vHNcBcjhDAFAaOqs-xnqCSLJEtRyOqp0tpKueEv98S2-3HFToCbOS129B6rFapGh_lJNyUc_3kA/w400-h289/FREINDS.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">roaming housesitters unite!</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;">We'd heard that about an hour away furniture is manufactured in the town of Ocotlon. The beachy budget furniture in our casita, which we bought more than eight years ago and has endured dozens of renters, was in sad shape. Baja, being nearly an island, can be a hard place to find such things at decent prices. So one day we headed out to do something we rarely do: shop for non-edible things. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6mCcT4n4vOVjhNcq_YPYeRjNF7JRKlLYGi32jTBhAwLTMvBMohZOREAa8DdCX4Fits0gGZSUdcVajyb14fvKt5zXE_CybsIntwxmOUgzfE5YoeClA3qcT0HruAX7N21wtUSqhD_Hfo78fnL-h7dzLkHSg89693eie_IpKSvIPGpnc3GHP-v8Q6WCuQ/s2048/Pride%20Chapala.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6mCcT4n4vOVjhNcq_YPYeRjNF7JRKlLYGi32jTBhAwLTMvBMohZOREAa8DdCX4Fits0gGZSUdcVajyb14fvKt5zXE_CybsIntwxmOUgzfE5YoeClA3qcT0HruAX7N21wtUSqhD_Hfo78fnL-h7dzLkHSg89693eie_IpKSvIPGpnc3GHP-v8Q6WCuQ/w400-h300/Pride%20Chapala.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We stumbled across a Pride celebration in Chapala!</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;">Octotlon was a dreary, gray grid of dilapidated buildings. We spent hours walking through furniture stores that varied from warehouses to elaborate displays. Fortunately we didn't want traditional "rustico"-style Mexican furniture, because we didn't see a single piece. Everything was modern, and a lot of it looked alike. Dizzy, hot and hungry, we straggled into the tenth store and struck gold. In one fell swoop we bought a couch, love seat, coffee table and dining room set. We <i>think </i>it's going to be delivered in November when we get back to Baja, but I'm hoping something wasn't lost in translation...</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWeB0_1UUIcYE1WRTpoV_RFDzOkx7AXl6sBLXIk6kOsDuB0_rEtpqV3wfossof9DIxypNx9dvk9-AFoVkIEJ_gabF6Y11cW4enzuOiZ4IlI3ordK2Gpk7vu4ln0MmgVzg5D85dUfK-5nXl3GBeVCN6_B_GV1l4hkFCGmrIysjG8MpiNChqwzyjN1kSoQ/s2048/Cathedral%20de%20Guadalajara%20in%20centro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWeB0_1UUIcYE1WRTpoV_RFDzOkx7AXl6sBLXIk6kOsDuB0_rEtpqV3wfossof9DIxypNx9dvk9-AFoVkIEJ_gabF6Y11cW4enzuOiZ4IlI3ordK2Gpk7vu4ln0MmgVzg5D85dUfK-5nXl3GBeVCN6_B_GV1l4hkFCGmrIysjG8MpiNChqwzyjN1kSoQ/w400-h266/Cathedral%20de%20Guadalajara%20in%20centro.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cathedral de Guadalajara in Centro<br><br><br></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-CvR4kGMyE-gMpFKey3S6mE6Z2modU40priBCq_0SeNKo3cazWDkC5beToRv9xK58NRFnECNJo_MzaAHvX1KZ2OuLl6_uenFE18p22pWe9iwGtDQfno6B6hIwJ03T2udCfX1uIQY6x8Xe-H5mh30yIUBOsbdq1apMXIeOV9cNreiiOXRCM6n5hLTZw/s1440/Guad%20kids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1440" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-CvR4kGMyE-gMpFKey3S6mE6Z2modU40priBCq_0SeNKo3cazWDkC5beToRv9xK58NRFnECNJo_MzaAHvX1KZ2OuLl6_uenFE18p22pWe9iwGtDQfno6B6hIwJ03T2udCfX1uIQY6x8Xe-H5mh30yIUBOsbdq1apMXIeOV9cNreiiOXRCM6n5hLTZw/w400-h266/Guad%20kids.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chicos playing in the fountain in Guadalajara</td></tr></tbody></table><br></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Another day we took the bus to Guadalajara to meet up with our friend Leah, who now lives there. There was no bus schedule (get used to it, it's Mexico) so we stood in the drizzle at the place we thought it was <i>supposed </i>to arrive, and eventually it did. It was great to see Leah, and in our short time together she toured us around the city she loves. We started in Centro, gaping at the grand colonial buildings and murals. And then we took the bus to the outskirts, through neighborhoods lined with towering trees. We had lunch on the sidewalk of a seafood place that looked unremarkable but the food was incredible.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBfRJuh_kSn-3jRfiv8KN3uMDRoBOwaqj3DtUINvX2Dxm7jcekZ52c5spvyfA96jPTdE5rEHRP4POT4zTJw68CgmEW4wAce7sF_g8GFaf2XqIAgDbRUaN_TM72_GAQu2Qesbxmtd3nK4qnoopCV0aLQkULUogCvAr9Q3P-0tWQqUYVdX7VTIAa7cFkQ/s2048/dress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1366" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBfRJuh_kSn-3jRfiv8KN3uMDRoBOwaqj3DtUINvX2Dxm7jcekZ52c5spvyfA96jPTdE5rEHRP4POT4zTJw68CgmEW4wAce7sF_g8GFaf2XqIAgDbRUaN_TM72_GAQu2Qesbxmtd3nK4qnoopCV0aLQkULUogCvAr9Q3P-0tWQqUYVdX7VTIAa7cFkQ/w400-h266/dress.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Back at Chapala, we geared up to leave, doing a big house cleaning and getting our last massage. Did I mention the masseuse came every week at about $20 USD per person? She was a true healer and also a single mom who told me she used to work for a company who took half her earnings. She took a risk and went out on her own--and is now doing very well. I share this because I love hearing people's stories and, better yet, we spoke mostly in Spanish.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIUNZpdqzNpsKRBwnhv10FxAME6FDz0bmBohWIJYPFl0UjWZzo9--MAhtcjbZzDjDlDTZjJqwbGzz9Br4-rznOouZHq2qv-lUgBvK8odaPATBWuYdJn7AdpBuFSoP6Tvd_vNV4MJhJQpMhp9zlcLdhRuKxrJQg5RBwGgzE5Fab2frGrnIBdkOhsbUDeg/s2048/Lake%20Chapala.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1535" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIUNZpdqzNpsKRBwnhv10FxAME6FDz0bmBohWIJYPFl0UjWZzo9--MAhtcjbZzDjDlDTZjJqwbGzz9Br4-rznOouZHq2qv-lUgBvK8odaPATBWuYdJn7AdpBuFSoP6Tvd_vNV4MJhJQpMhp9zlcLdhRuKxrJQg5RBwGgzE5Fab2frGrnIBdkOhsbUDeg/w400-h300/Lake%20Chapala.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">I'd gotten pretty attached to Chloe, so it wasn't easy to leave her. I was also verklempt when we said goodbye to Cathie and Brian, but with nomads you never know when you'll collide again in another place. With Dodo and Sven it was "hasta luego" because we will see them when we get to Baja!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">But first, we were headed to Panama. Next up: Adventures in Panama City, Bocas del Toro, and Playa Morrillo!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">*****************************</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;">PS: Want to stockpile some good fall reads? All my books are price reduced right now...and they are also available as audiobooks:</span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Call-Wonder-odyssey-spirit-travel-ebook/dp/B0107FK51G/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1O195J4GAOV9G&keywords=call+it+wonder&qid=1663777126&s=digital-text&sprefix=call+it+wonder%2Cdigital-text%2C582&sr=1-1" style="color: #663399; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank"><i>Call it Wonder: An Odyssey of Love, Sex, Spirit & Travel</i></a> (award-winning memoir)</span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/May-Queen-Kate-Evans-ebook/dp/B00RO69FAE/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3EHUR8BPEG2DT&keywords=for+the+may+queen+evans&qid=1663777291&s=digital-text&sprefix=for+the+may+queen+evan%2Cdigital-text%2C229&sr=1-1" style="color: #663399; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">For the May Queen</a></i> (coming of age in the dorms in 1980, with lots of sex, drugs & rock n roll)</span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0786RSTK3/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i1" style="color: #663399; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Complementary Colors</a></i> (what happens when a straight woman falls in love with a lesbian)</span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Revolutionary-Kiss-Mary-Kate-Summers-ebook/dp/B08T6R6RX2/ref=sr_1_1?crid=NW69X3E4W392&keywords=revolutionary+kiss&qid=1663777353&s=digital-text&sprefix=revolutionary+kiss%2Cdigital-text%2C365&sr=1-1" style="color: #663399; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Revolutionary Kiss</a></i>, co-authored with Mary Janelle Melvin under the name Mary Kate Summers (love story set during the French Revolution)</span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><br>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-10917138948540339382022-09-21T09:30:00.000-07:002022-09-21T09:44:41.856-07:00Return to Baja<p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It was 2014 the first time we drove from San Diego all the way down Baja to our casita at Cerritos Beach. We've done it many times since, and I've written about it </span><a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2016/06/driving-baja-againand-visiting-wine.html" style="font-family: arial;" target="_blank">here</a><span style="font-family: arial;">, </span><a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2015/05/driving-baja.html" style="font-family: arial;" target="_blank">here</a><span style="font-family: arial;">, </span><a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2016/03/baja-magic.html" style="font-family: arial;" target="_blank">here</a><span style="font-family: arial;">, and </span><a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/02/our-nomadic-winter.html" style="font-family: arial;" target="_blank">here</a><span style="font-family: arial;">.</span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4hB8Zp2clX9u1Ythv7h8QsPYtMiarDA7zhjP5C-WMQb9_NDYtbGBJRwvWID4N2SriRy9j2t3IV1EcaD6p9XCvlPdcoEj03RKFUM1AiQ-cSBggNM0N-pf-9_AmdzlGGfSiNByyZY6gGIiMXzGZN7lQ2SdrX7SYY90uNp4rU3skryqYQhzvfzvuFWWkvw/s2048/santa%20rosalis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4hB8Zp2clX9u1Ythv7h8QsPYtMiarDA7zhjP5C-WMQb9_NDYtbGBJRwvWID4N2SriRy9j2t3IV1EcaD6p9XCvlPdcoEj03RKFUM1AiQ-cSBggNM0N-pf-9_AmdzlGGfSiNByyZY6gGIiMXzGZN7lQ2SdrX7SYY90uNp4rU3skryqYQhzvfzvuFWWkvw/w400-h266/santa%20rosalis.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Santa Rosalia</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;">You'd think with our experience we'd have it down. But this time we couldn't figure out where to get our visas-upon-entry at the Mexicali border. Everything looked different, and indeed it was. We'd zipped by the new building where we were supposed to stop and had to turn around, cross back over the border, and re-enter the country--a painfully slow trek because we couldn't figure out how to get in the fast last using our new SENTRI pass. [Insert tongue-out, googly-eyed emoji here.]</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvpi13OZw4Ape4WxUOgUoJ1Ahyk_CGy2l_Av9-wT3HXY5DTiDPUjGXyoXqEfkqnaAOceN6Of7eog9b5uHymwcXmGjEyc-n3doA0B4muzr1VufOqSzqeyw_uZ9lKy2VrZn6wXb-3b-ERDK-NZLYesqmYpzmARAo5jt2vVUmeLCV8-OQGgAq2QBKlt6nuA/s2048/Susan%20Gilly%20in%20MX.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvpi13OZw4Ape4WxUOgUoJ1Ahyk_CGy2l_Av9-wT3HXY5DTiDPUjGXyoXqEfkqnaAOceN6Of7eog9b5uHymwcXmGjEyc-n3doA0B4muzr1VufOqSzqeyw_uZ9lKy2VrZn6wXb-3b-ERDK-NZLYesqmYpzmARAo5jt2vVUmeLCV8-OQGgAq2QBKlt6nuA/w400-h300/Susan%20Gilly%20in%20MX.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tacos with Susan and Gilly, whom last saw <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=gilly" target="_blank">here</a>.</td></tr></tbody></table><br><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Fortunately the rest of the trip down was beautiful and seamless. Usually we pass right through the small town of Santa Rosalia, but at the last minute we discovered our friends Susan and Gilly were there! For years we'd talked about meeting up in Santa Rosalia, since they own property there, but the stars didn't align until now. </span></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;">Until they toured us around, I hadn't realized what a charming town it is. The architecture is French style because the French operated copper mines here until the 1950s.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRA4b0G6MnOGLgxF2Wbtrqi5IKCxjBiYXLI8MbiR8qRDzxlYp9o0-RjgolKrWDZvgH3TuZzX4LhTqysLVCdSnct93Y-JXKxeHg8ECFkywn1qOrh0l1hUlGuychUkhKx9CmvrxiN1yJNKBGcGMjChsOamiaZJcjmliONZfU3YfLoM0aK0zoh644KxFHng/s2048/Santa%20rosalia%203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRA4b0G6MnOGLgxF2Wbtrqi5IKCxjBiYXLI8MbiR8qRDzxlYp9o0-RjgolKrWDZvgH3TuZzX4LhTqysLVCdSnct93Y-JXKxeHg8ECFkywn1qOrh0l1hUlGuychUkhKx9CmvrxiN1yJNKBGcGMjChsOamiaZJcjmliONZfU3YfLoM0aK0zoh644KxFHng/w400-h300/Santa%20rosalia%203.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gilly & Susan on their property.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;">We also saw their seaside property next to the small college where Gilly is involved in building a marine biology research center. He's a squid researcher and she's a John Steinbeck scholar, the perfect Cannery Row match.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">A few days later, pulling into our neighborhood near <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2015/02/baja-life.html" target="_blank">Cerritos Beach </a>after nearly two years away gave me the tingles. Ahhh...that desert air mingling with the sea. But we were only spending three nights there--and not even in our casita so as to not disturb the longterm renter. Instead, we stayed in a palapa (thatched roof) studio with outdoor kitchen, organized our stuff in our bodega (big garge) and headed out to find food.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivY3XB1oZknzrdNd8eW3-APVa_7tG2vF06MJoJEkaMxLJy1XSZNpO-qMmKTHX_PoK-JxnG3Z2Xu3gIVYdkJpVvYyvtqghIjoqIUYBfc8rN0Btup4kDGXU55K-QAaVlWZTm9DWQ1U8Wh-TjL6ekfXRn7QlsSqqumeAeROgIu_Tu1tI4n2NpDHsScW_O9g/s2048/Cerritos%20Art.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivY3XB1oZknzrdNd8eW3-APVa_7tG2vF06MJoJEkaMxLJy1XSZNpO-qMmKTHX_PoK-JxnG3Z2Xu3gIVYdkJpVvYyvtqghIjoqIUYBfc8rN0Btup4kDGXU55K-QAaVlWZTm9DWQ1U8Wh-TjL6ekfXRn7QlsSqqumeAeROgIu_Tu1tI4n2NpDHsScW_O9g/w400-h300/Cerritos%20Art.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Art at Good Vibes</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Lucky us, our friend Art had recently opened a Caribbean-food restaurant called Good Vibes within walking distance, where we feasted on super delish dishes. They have jerk chicken but also offer jerk cauliflower, which was divine.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cuC7h79PAbEZK6YbXrgG_z4sQt2Fw-YDT8ojlt2FkWxuBcmN8fqRWCrcndM70dSU384Puw6AB8aveIOVLT0ckjjEx3SCGS-i7zcUX-mAST_A_4oDz-XowMrHQxdmRj4MuE6CpIcB6cPiCIWTNkwnINqUvX-I7ADIq6i5b5ow8t4z8j7pLodX2YhMKg/s2048/Cerritos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1316" data-original-width="2048" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cuC7h79PAbEZK6YbXrgG_z4sQt2Fw-YDT8ojlt2FkWxuBcmN8fqRWCrcndM70dSU384Puw6AB8aveIOVLT0ckjjEx3SCGS-i7zcUX-mAST_A_4oDz-XowMrHQxdmRj4MuE6CpIcB6cPiCIWTNkwnINqUvX-I7ADIq6i5b5ow8t4z8j7pLodX2YhMKg/w400-h258/Cerritos.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Squeezed in a beach walk</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;">We had time to meet up with friends and family in Todos Santos and got over to my sister Ann's property, where she and Gary are building a new house. It will be magically completed by the time we return.</span></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdX7XzS7G9Djj36YVSkKZks2ZlZFaihkg_stkTZsCZPsynBODazk1wrljiw8PykLufjQOowfACPMv1pUDRV4DjOJV9SGO9-PvBaIC_kWZWeWtweN1H6In_ECR8UgfFU147aLqppYByTwRKVOw5xQ5RO4uD2wrnr_EhHoZqqOcsn0oawyfg4zoj0Vh-Gg/s2048/Eating%20at%20Tikis%20with%20everyone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdX7XzS7G9Djj36YVSkKZks2ZlZFaihkg_stkTZsCZPsynBODazk1wrljiw8PykLufjQOowfACPMv1pUDRV4DjOJV9SGO9-PvBaIC_kWZWeWtweN1H6In_ECR8UgfFU147aLqppYByTwRKVOw5xQ5RO4uD2wrnr_EhHoZqqOcsn0oawyfg4zoj0Vh-Gg/s320/Eating%20at%20Tikis%20with%20everyone.jpg" width="240"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With nephews Beau & Brock, Ann & Gary, and Paul</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">It was strange after only three days to board a plane. Part of me yearned to stay, to burrow into our house and community, while the other part was excited about what was up next: housesitting in the area of Lake Chapala. Stay tuned for that!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">PS: Want to stockpile some good fall reads? All my books are price reduced right now...and they are also available as audiobooks:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Call-Wonder-odyssey-spirit-travel-ebook/dp/B0107FK51G/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1O195J4GAOV9G&keywords=call+it+wonder&qid=1663777126&s=digital-text&sprefix=call+it+wonder%2Cdigital-text%2C582&sr=1-1" target="_blank"><i>Call it Wonder: An Odyssey of Love, Sex, Spirit & Travel</i></a> (award-winning memoir)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/May-Queen-Kate-Evans-ebook/dp/B00RO69FAE/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3EHUR8BPEG2DT&keywords=for+the+may+queen+evans&qid=1663777291&s=digital-text&sprefix=for+the+may+queen+evan%2Cdigital-text%2C229&sr=1-1" target="_blank">For the May Queen</a></i> (coming of age in the dorms in 1980, with lots of sex, drugs & rock n roll)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0786RSTK3/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i1" target="_blank">Complementary Colors</a></i> (what happens when a straight woman falls in love with a lesbian)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Revolutionary-Kiss-Mary-Kate-Summers-ebook/dp/B08T6R6RX2/ref=sr_1_1?crid=NW69X3E4W392&keywords=revolutionary+kiss&qid=1663777353&s=digital-text&sprefix=revolutionary+kiss%2Cdigital-text%2C365&sr=1-1" target="_blank">Revolutionary Kiss</a></i>, co-authored with Mary Janelle Melvin under the name Mary Kate Summers (love story set during the French Revolution)</span></p>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-84781016147388276542022-08-31T16:52:00.003-07:002022-08-31T16:57:50.604-07:00From Trauma Came Giving<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqoB8o8_IWCPGe6cfu7v405BijR7W6nweUPIICBD0XnAZ_6ZdP5QVCImVPj3Chws7P4zgyRYWrZsDDAbWJRUmXs3hwjQCD2A9djnbDPGDPxkR7W2NXSpejxXx7m2Tz-dG7EiQuKrfW-gaYbGHSnCrOHd0LWBEqdVzUme4WBjMzTK843YCRTCnp-ERog/s720/beau%202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="481" data-original-width="720" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqoB8o8_IWCPGe6cfu7v405BijR7W6nweUPIICBD0XnAZ_6ZdP5QVCImVPj3Chws7P4zgyRYWrZsDDAbWJRUmXs3hwjQCD2A9djnbDPGDPxkR7W2NXSpejxXx7m2Tz-dG7EiQuKrfW-gaYbGHSnCrOHd0LWBEqdVzUme4WBjMzTK843YCRTCnp-ERog/w400-h268/beau%202.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beau (photo by Dave Rhine)</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="ydp115bcf4cmsonormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br></div><p></p><p class="ydp115bcf4cmsonormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; text-indent: 0.5in;">My 30-year-old nephew had a surfing accident in Mexico, breaking his back.* He is a phenomenal surfer, and I'd watching him on the waves since he was a little kid. An electrician by trade, his dream of going to Indonesia to work as a surfing guide was dashed by the pandemic. He then spent time budget traveling and surfing in Central America and refurbishing a surf shack in Baja Sur, about an hour north of Cabo San Lucas. As a fellow wanderer who lives part of the year in Mexico and spends the rest traveling, I feel a special affinity to him beyond the familial.</span></p><p class="ydp115bcf4cmsonormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; text-indent: 0.5in;">Even though I knew that an infusion of cash could help him out, I
was hesitant to start a GoFundMe because of the snide things I’ve heard people
say about “grifters” and the stridency of online comment feeds. Who knew what
people might say about my nephew’s life? Would they blame him for engaging in a
dangerous sport? Would they deride his need for cash given that he lived an
alternative, modest lifestyle? But I’d seen GoFundMe’s work well for others,
and I’d contributed in the past. Besides, this would be for a young man I loved
who was in need, so I posted the request, steeling myself to delete comments
that might not be supportive or might offer unwanted advice. Within 24 hours, a
number of donations rolled in, as did only heartfelt comments of love and
support.</span></p><p class="ydp115bcf4cmsonormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; text-indent: 0.5in;">But most striking was this: I realized that many of those who
contributed had suffered their own traumas. One of the first donations came
from a woman I’d never met. When I asked my husband if he knew her he said,
“Yes, from high school. Her own son died by suicide.” My heart thumped in my
throat.</span></p><p class="ydp115bcf4cmsonormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaqnBjXT9vR0YXuSjHNJJdMDyF-iFVouKpY9HlPfeALPQk9OMqUfYSN-XfOz_5J_9iT-4O-aOgPXsDGCa-b4gMaeNvaQNsDNUgBOvbdZrbxuuqc5_AbRN-bXS_MVcnC8NQbF8ciaUKGArAtKZb4C0HiYl43t6ghBNMzkypZQLAy7pyhCMvIDP7VdOtCQ/s960/beau%201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="718" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaqnBjXT9vR0YXuSjHNJJdMDyF-iFVouKpY9HlPfeALPQk9OMqUfYSN-XfOz_5J_9iT-4O-aOgPXsDGCa-b4gMaeNvaQNsDNUgBOvbdZrbxuuqc5_AbRN-bXS_MVcnC8NQbF8ciaUKGArAtKZb4C0HiYl43t6ghBNMzkypZQLAy7pyhCMvIDP7VdOtCQ/w299-h400/beau%201.jpg" width="299"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">nephew and auntie, 30 years ago</td></tr></tbody></table><p class="ydp115bcf4cmsonormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p class="ydp115bcf4cmsonormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; text-indent: 0.5in;">And then I realized another donor had also lost a son. I scoured
the list: a friend whose parents had died tragically, another who was mourning
her husband’s death, a cousin whose young husband suffered for years with
kidney disease and finally received a transplant (and was boosted with online
contributions), another cousin who was treated for breast cancer—and a woman
I’d never met in person but who had reached out to me online years ago after
reading my memoir that treats my experience with a brain tumor. She’d shared
with me, a stranger, her own youthful medical challenges, and ever since I’d
felt a kinship with her.</span></p><p class="ydp115bcf4cmsonormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; text-indent: 0.5in;">There were others whose backgrounds I did not know, either because
I’d never met them or they’d never shared intimate details about their lives. I
thought of the Zen parable of the woman who begged Buddha to bring back to life
her dead child. He said he could do so if she brought him a mustard seed from a
person who had never had never had a death in the family. Filled with hope, she
went house to house…only to discover no one had been untouched by tragedy. She
made peace with her pain, knowing that suffering wasn’t personal but was the
human condition.</span></p><p class="ydp115bcf4cmsonormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; text-indent: 0.5in;">My nephew told me he was surprised by and grateful for all the
online kindness directed his way. When I shared with him my thought—that giving
and compassion often come from one’s own struggles—he was deeply moved. Since
then, we’ve been more in contact than ever, this experience bringing us even
closer together. I hope all the love and support is helping him to remain in
good spirits as he waits in a back brace for professional advice about the next
medical steps he needs to take. And I’m glad to have been reminded of the
Internet’s power for good, especially in such divisive times. The next time I see
a trainwreck of nasty comments online, I’ll try to remember that not one of
those people could hand me a mustard seed.</span></p><p class="ydp115bcf4cmsonormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; text-indent: 0.5in;"><br></span></p><p class="ydp115bcf4cmsonormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large; text-indent: 0.5in;"><i>*UPDATE: I wrote this a few months ago. Fortunately, Beau didn't need surgery and is out of his brace and back on the waves!</i></span></p><br><p></p>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-25941702020246896272022-06-10T16:28:00.000-07:002022-06-12T17:41:54.284-07:00Housesitting in California: Saving a Zillion Bucks<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiybpeyrYmABOY5PNGr4GrIyP3MuKxCEZeKG-FLSsgEu5nZ2J9ZvmDqnVG7kTPsX_ZZKcW7Bgu3F7nH7tYJjVrv79oTFN2_1LlnDGkDYWILKOyCvHuajuJ2m7puMcGc1uYrazsgZj-VTPkBQusMqdbBrrKkhlG-Fq2cPmjOI8ZyklrJrUEur59ohrD20g/s811/dandmesd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="811" data-original-width="659" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiybpeyrYmABOY5PNGr4GrIyP3MuKxCEZeKG-FLSsgEu5nZ2J9ZvmDqnVG7kTPsX_ZZKcW7Bgu3F7nH7tYJjVrv79oTFN2_1LlnDGkDYWILKOyCvHuajuJ2m7puMcGc1uYrazsgZj-VTPkBQusMqdbBrrKkhlG-Fq2cPmjOI8ZyklrJrUEur59ohrD20g/w325-h400/dandmesd.jpg" width="325"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">San Diego is good for kissing</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">It's been <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2019/12/housesitting-all-over-world.html" target="_blank">eight years</a> since we discovered <a href="https://www.trustedhousesitters.com/refer/RAF140357/?utm_medium=refer-a-friend&utm_campaign=refer-a-friend&utm_source=copy-link" target="_blank">housesitting</a>--and by the end of this year we will have done a total of 42, if my numbers are right. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">I'm no accountant, and sometimes I feel like an amateur compared to the travelers I follow online who keep spreadsheets detailing every sit, every pet they care for, every cent they saved or spent each month. It's fun to watch them in action, but I'm a different breed, one who had to get a tutor to pass statistics.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">If I were to say how much we've saved housesitting while we travel, I'd say a zillion dollars. You know, a lot. It has made budget travel possible.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT6gPcTU8b9ViZCemCycCococQjHVXSLItFTTy2nw_MR1j779DlxQmMyDWVFzbCjrlDt8DvcAEWF0-XG-n2Es_NBcNxukjS01-0eoUY9lKaJmzwurm-wn9h5d_BbpBW0ZbSzsgKU2RuSjfHzasLVNMoSCkxsoXggLAakbPaaX10B5N98VCiSTBfUa2lw/s1944/6%20Abbey%20and%20Spark%20carmel%20valley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT6gPcTU8b9ViZCemCycCococQjHVXSLItFTTy2nw_MR1j779DlxQmMyDWVFzbCjrlDt8DvcAEWF0-XG-n2Es_NBcNxukjS01-0eoUY9lKaJmzwurm-wn9h5d_BbpBW0ZbSzsgKU2RuSjfHzasLVNMoSCkxsoXggLAakbPaaX10B5N98VCiSTBfUa2lw/w400-h300/6%20Abbey%20and%20Spark%20carmel%20valley.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Abbey & Spark in Carmel Valley</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'm writing a book about our traveling, housesitting life--one filled with stories, not numerical data. I apologize in advance to those who crave pie charts. You're more likely to read in my book about our experiences eating pie. Peach is my favorite.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK0dfaMVzR7vo-Uvc3fzJNQCBTSF_sX3MjV02Z5krn833rO9Q7zZuxeTKhWPZ5n0NBNF7lu8yxqe8a0ZpEN8rFvqQf5XRPUSpup-Un5mLxLLkTRCAxUoyG9_b6ut2LXy6uXBuDQZoJp_n5ZkA6FxHsEJVPxKHoOnp41ecZ8vNbz3N1o7NFpCJ2hQbmZA/s1944/3%20laurie%20wine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1944" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK0dfaMVzR7vo-Uvc3fzJNQCBTSF_sX3MjV02Z5krn833rO9Q7zZuxeTKhWPZ5n0NBNF7lu8yxqe8a0ZpEN8rFvqQf5XRPUSpup-Un5mLxLLkTRCAxUoyG9_b6ut2LXy6uXBuDQZoJp_n5ZkA6FxHsEJVPxKHoOnp41ecZ8vNbz3N1o7NFpCJ2hQbmZA/w400-h266/3%20laurie%20wine.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Wine tasting with Laurie in Ashland, Oregon</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br></span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">Because of housesitting, we were able to spend nearly three months in California, enjoying all this beautiful state has to offer along with cherished time with family and friends. We were grateful for the sun, as our time in <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2022/03/coming-out-of-cave.html" target="_blank">Washington </a>had turned us into ghosts.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5inBfKCkftvEx58-E0D1qcoP__MPxLEFTTON6KW7yTeALlC0ugkGyTvabgGKcaG30f0Qk7F3xIQRrXKK0Pyouou4XLs5y7nrTFOKspJzQgYwCKKjvwnFg3Ohz_yJ7I0tl08sY-lnmW6-_OxzS2qmu5bd5goEziNjy_DKppXAXEjdv_m_CXstdmw2OAg/s1944/2%20anne%20with%20art%20and%20ben.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5inBfKCkftvEx58-E0D1qcoP__MPxLEFTTON6KW7yTeALlC0ugkGyTvabgGKcaG30f0Qk7F3xIQRrXKK0Pyouou4XLs5y7nrTFOKspJzQgYwCKKjvwnFg3Ohz_yJ7I0tl08sY-lnmW6-_OxzS2qmu5bd5goEziNjy_DKppXAXEjdv_m_CXstdmw2OAg/w400-h300/2%20anne%20with%20art%20and%20ben.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">With Anne & Ben in Portland</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br></span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">After driving from Seattle through Portland (to visit Anne and Ben) and Ashland, Oregon (to see Laurie), we arrived at our sit in Carmel Valley. We spent a few hours with the homeowners for orientation before they took off for the airport. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCNBQ7BIbSMxWMhlEG4C82WJmYGMm2LLwv4gqNLPeBPgkx9fPcirX2D1IXiLSTpWLNfBo5TxK0RsOJiqoRJNkWw7CPCho0CELXWgtjInI36Rt53QtaXJ1t9D4b8PldEsfxZiM1HE6CFcu2lexFkAOvOwA78VFQFhFzHQGD2dEUqiyhMLByLpSZKMki3Q/s1724/6%20asilomar%20hike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1150" data-original-width="1724" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCNBQ7BIbSMxWMhlEG4C82WJmYGMm2LLwv4gqNLPeBPgkx9fPcirX2D1IXiLSTpWLNfBo5TxK0RsOJiqoRJNkWw7CPCho0CELXWgtjInI36Rt53QtaXJ1t9D4b8PldEsfxZiM1HE6CFcu2lexFkAOvOwA78VFQFhFzHQGD2dEUqiyhMLByLpSZKMki3Q/w400-h266/6%20asilomar%20hike.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Asilomar State Beach <br><br></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Our charges were two labradoodles, an adorable and spirited mother and daughter. We had fun walking them to the nearby open space where they could romp off leash. We also indulged in all the wonderful beach hiking at Asilomar, Carmel Meadows and Garrapata State Park.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">It so happened that our friend Cathy, who now lives in England, was visiting California and was able to spend a few days with us. On perhaps half our housesits, we've had friends come stay; we always ask the homeowners in advance, urging them to feel free to say no if they're uncomfortable. But they've always said yes, often enthusiastically so.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo3uDD3guc0SQ1MhQQnZrCMX02nrqHgC8nQT_XUo7T5iSSRiKDl0idwezjq3QEePwzzyrC3rBwluIiYl87aNQtd-3y7BzTewwjpZ4BE0Sc4tmdXvPn39UhmLq1zqgChB4OPyXAaM3D1vilciP4UFj4OZBTirBYEuIp_w9e2ODLmp8DLBzcPqQWxLRVog/s2048/1%20friends.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1790" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo3uDD3guc0SQ1MhQQnZrCMX02nrqHgC8nQT_XUo7T5iSSRiKDl0idwezjq3QEePwzzyrC3rBwluIiYl87aNQtd-3y7BzTewwjpZ4BE0Sc4tmdXvPn39UhmLq1zqgChB4OPyXAaM3D1vilciP4UFj4OZBTirBYEuIp_w9e2ODLmp8DLBzcPqQWxLRVog/w350-h400/1%20friends.jpg" width="350"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Zoom with a View</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">When Covid hit, to allay the isolation, Cathy and I, along with Sally and Kelly, starting Zooming twice a month. When we met for lunch in Carmel, it was the first time we'd been together in more than two years. It was wonderful, and I must say, I prefer Zooming in person.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Our next sit was a darling Santa Cruz vintage home, built over 100 years ago by a doctor who used to see patients in what is now the bedroom. Upon arrival, we went out to dinner the hosts, and spent the night in their backyard cottage. </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">We cared for their sweet, older dog named Mazy who was happy with one stroll around the block a day. (Bizarrely, when I lived in Santa Cruz years ago, I had a dog named Mazie.)</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyIqzNdDcZd2Xv7afHS3Xruw5dI1FPXBonBzV-Tw3LFgEFGt9QAIbL1uCsmp6-tirZrzmjk3KAaqh5B0jT0a8wRuv2eau1eQjCOZprLHZ1TCXqq9pQYvgCOEcZD4CsttieCOmqq4Yr_qIpW9fiRQxMcxHnwJWTByJV5cwbN7pj2IgYq_gmJAKzpuzHVQ/s1944/7%20housesiting%20in%20santa%20cruz%20Mazy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyIqzNdDcZd2Xv7afHS3Xruw5dI1FPXBonBzV-Tw3LFgEFGt9QAIbL1uCsmp6-tirZrzmjk3KAaqh5B0jT0a8wRuv2eau1eQjCOZprLHZ1TCXqq9pQYvgCOEcZD4CsttieCOmqq4Yr_qIpW9fiRQxMcxHnwJWTByJV5cwbN7pj2IgYq_gmJAKzpuzHVQ/w400-h300/7%20housesiting%20in%20santa%20cruz%20Mazy.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Reading with Mazy</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">Being there afforded us all the wonderful Santa Cruz things: beaches, redwoods, friends, and on April 20 a 420 party with our friend Stacey, a <i>totally Santa Cruz</i> experience. Even though I don't like weed, I had a great time meeting new people and learning a card came called Kabul.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMk-It6CPvRKCuYcwBtZTTecfzR37pxfNMdP876OCPTdqisFvMt3qzq7Wy3wgRX8MI63wDmCyJpzkFD7yMz7bUs4grAd9sKGsLBxoeMUfERoyhDgwy7fGDjzrqbCIdoR1u3j-pTgq4SHKv9-bcqSTUytSm80fgp7OjXPKgVIy16k6l627aOObZtXfXfA/s2048/9%20SD%20Pepper%20and%20Piper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMk-It6CPvRKCuYcwBtZTTecfzR37pxfNMdP876OCPTdqisFvMt3qzq7Wy3wgRX8MI63wDmCyJpzkFD7yMz7bUs4grAd9sKGsLBxoeMUfERoyhDgwy7fGDjzrqbCIdoR1u3j-pTgq4SHKv9-bcqSTUytSm80fgp7OjXPKgVIy16k6l627aOObZtXfXfA/w400-h266/9%20SD%20Pepper%20and%20Piper.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Piper and Pepper</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">From Santa Cruz, we drove to San Diego, for the first of three housesits in So Cal. The house had a killer kitchen and two hilarious French bulldogs who snored like truckers. After a sleepless night, I had to move their beds to another room and texted the hosts to let them know; they were cool with it. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">Before we take a sit, I always ask where the animals sleep (because "on the bed" isn't an option for me). When I learned they were small dogs who had crates in the bedroom, I mistakenly thought that would be fine. Lesson learned.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPoTPlERI0ubJvvipBmwqXlDM8jS9xMl6paiYjQyRhsaLxjs5SVnqNL5-rt7bWIxHoJcl7syYZ-Rnpn1dqzotmi2l_U0bH2rtlXGQs5vPrIJZZqK9HaEXUv2M9PqdV9YX9A_PIdE4NXQGxWbUILMDwCd-DFhRD3Z1swra8n8NIWdegGPlFDB6CkAI_CQ/s2048/15tonyand%20shannon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1310" data-original-width="2048" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPoTPlERI0ubJvvipBmwqXlDM8jS9xMl6paiYjQyRhsaLxjs5SVnqNL5-rt7bWIxHoJcl7syYZ-Rnpn1dqzotmi2l_U0bH2rtlXGQs5vPrIJZZqK9HaEXUv2M9PqdV9YX9A_PIdE4NXQGxWbUILMDwCd-DFhRD3Z1swra8n8NIWdegGPlFDB6CkAI_CQ/w400-h256/15tonyand%20shannon.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">We love Shannon & Tony</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Soon, though, we heard from the hosts, who'd gone to Europe for a cruise, that they tested positive for Covid and were booted from the boat. After a five-day quarantine, they wanted to come home a week early, and we said not to worry, that we could go stay with our friends in nearby Solana Beach.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">(We had this happen once before, where homeowners needed to return a week early. <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/02/our-nomadic-winter.html" target="_blank">They kindly paid for an Airbnb for us</a>. We could have stayed in their guest room, but that was a much better solution all around.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We'd already planned on going to the home of our Solana Beach friends, Tony and Shannon, to care for their sweet doggie Auggie while they traveled to Guatemala--so we got bonus time with them before they left.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ZQyzzM4o6rTyjGs1zSoKSHJTDxExNyPjbG97z60g5t4DdyYH3ZYlpEX90xyVo2hcmuGdIrU0TuP71JnDYVpqOAuuAhEVTEU2_sbOXt53R8gZ4vHPRGS2XzepqTENPHh0CXyg7ZxK2wjHRdqrbOdjVNw6gPLrJho3dq_s1i8eOGcfvIjp_u8SYdsZEQ/s2048/11Mark%20cabrillo%20national%20monument.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ZQyzzM4o6rTyjGs1zSoKSHJTDxExNyPjbG97z60g5t4DdyYH3ZYlpEX90xyVo2hcmuGdIrU0TuP71JnDYVpqOAuuAhEVTEU2_sbOXt53R8gZ4vHPRGS2XzepqTENPHh0CXyg7ZxK2wjHRdqrbOdjVNw6gPLrJho3dq_s1i8eOGcfvIjp_u8SYdsZEQ/w400-h266/11Mark%20cabrillo%20national%20monument.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Mark at Cabrillo National Monument State Park</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">This housesit turned into an event. Our friend Mark came for a few days, and we were so happy to host him because we've stayed at his house in San Jose five billion times (I counted). </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">Dave picked him up from the airport and they went immediately to hike at the stunning Cabrillo National Monument.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLGaA3WoTiRzdQf1wmfgK19mLL3PO9-gKHBL5G68B_WzAzfQkDQEWccZCtbSfOJNYPGnSvJG1MAeMJeKGZabgGqvKJbpakS4vNc0vrNolg0dQoKaxz5uYkafWbbjkxESBqBL4lYd8LxO9d__Js2XhyakA4hVpuIvTX6uSLHVsKk8MBmTOxY_sxjtDA6w/s2048/boysinhottub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLGaA3WoTiRzdQf1wmfgK19mLL3PO9-gKHBL5G68B_WzAzfQkDQEWccZCtbSfOJNYPGnSvJG1MAeMJeKGZabgGqvKJbpakS4vNc0vrNolg0dQoKaxz5uYkafWbbjkxESBqBL4lYd8LxO9d__Js2XhyakA4hVpuIvTX6uSLHVsKk8MBmTOxY_sxjtDA6w/w400-h300/boysinhottub.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Frankie, Trey & Johnnie know how to chill.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">The next day, more guests descended: Paul and Christi, their three teen boys, and their dog, Luna. On our drive down, we'd spent a few days with them north of L.A. so now we were getting bonus time together. We hiked, jammed (Paul on mandolin, me on uke), and had a sweet day at Del Mar beach. </span></span></p><p>(Side note: We would never ask homeowners on a regular sit to let us invite this many guests, but in this group was also close friends with Tony and Shannon.)</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT8bMAO24hY1tnG-gfhsENqDkNwGxgeEnoH8CPJWLVd6LLUCR20uZFE2mBiWw5PnVa31oEHp5TwhVn_SKaYZOF9hPNRrV0EuySsszDsI32lqdGDbLQFA_1r7rx_lI0ucV-57S2S7l0Vs0ZGCldlF3KJgw0pE5XTkRuH_amM-Oi8Dmyzp8s7OhzfxvkaA/s1440/Christi%20and%20Luna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT8bMAO24hY1tnG-gfhsENqDkNwGxgeEnoH8CPJWLVd6LLUCR20uZFE2mBiWw5PnVa31oEHp5TwhVn_SKaYZOF9hPNRrV0EuySsszDsI32lqdGDbLQFA_1r7rx_lI0ucV-57S2S7l0Vs0ZGCldlF3KJgw0pE5XTkRuH_amM-Oi8Dmyzp8s7OhzfxvkaA/w400-h300/Christi%20and%20Luna.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Luna and Christi at Del Mar Beach</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">Our final sit in the area took us inland to Escondido, to a comfortable home with a view of the hills. There are lots of trails through green space right out the door, great for walking the two dogs.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRanv9taM2hW16cmOgwPDFkvriIKypAW3WMUEs3yeBW0cyoAVcLf0daUfGz9pP0dA7v8RijEzSz5_x9V2up0_jTpuvdurcLpQlRB1Yb0XUkM2ZiTozd_LU5npPAjF0euE1OcOTKrZosj7aDNcdKdvu1FwKex6zdePQai14JKgWzyGiRYWPFkzoY_f07A/s2048/14fiestadelsol.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRanv9taM2hW16cmOgwPDFkvriIKypAW3WMUEs3yeBW0cyoAVcLf0daUfGz9pP0dA7v8RijEzSz5_x9V2up0_jTpuvdurcLpQlRB1Yb0XUkM2ZiTozd_LU5npPAjF0euE1OcOTKrZosj7aDNcdKdvu1FwKex6zdePQai14JKgWzyGiRYWPFkzoY_f07A/w400-h300/14fiestadelsol.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Fiesta del Sol</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Being in this area also meant we were finally able to see my sister Crystal and her guy Kristian in </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">their beautiful downtown penthouse</span><span style="font-family: verdana;">, along with our niece Jenna, who was home for the summer after her frosh year at Indiana University. I was in the delivery room when she was born, so there's nothing like seeing her so grown up to remind me of <a href="https://poets.org/poem/his-coy-mistress" target="_blank">time's winged chariot</a>. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">We walked along the downtown waterfront, danced our patooties off at a music and food festival called Fiesta del Sol, and spent a day in Coronado--a beachside resort town that I'd always wanted to visit. As a native Californian, it took me only 59 years to finally get there, and it's gorgeous. We ate lunch at the Hotel Del, overlooking the water.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9OO3Azt6Og8BAlAw5ofkEHuEnXC2DawreblE2s-ff-lYf-KHliVBU4KfYg188jMBLHgXg1OZK_aNVaGL1fOL5h_sF5yDonazT38ZDkXtuVwjYl5IbhHChuWLlQZAla2s5t6P3hLSx1Fw7ahqkKAL0-Jm9uhSZdBB2clQD6G-uMi5Nr_1JFvNP-FiFDw/w400-h300/coronado%20hotel.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">The Hotel del Coronado</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9OO3Azt6Og8BAlAw5ofkEHuEnXC2DawreblE2s-ff-lYf-KHliVBU4KfYg188jMBLHgXg1OZK_aNVaGL1fOL5h_sF5yDonazT38ZDkXtuVwjYl5IbhHChuWLlQZAla2s5t6P3hLSx1Fw7ahqkKAL0-Jm9uhSZdBB2clQD6G-uMi5Nr_1JFvNP-FiFDw/s2048/coronado%20hotel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: center;"></a></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Once we've established ourselves in a home, t</span><span style="font-family: verdana;">he unfamiliar quickly morphs </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">into a sense of ease. However, it's not all fun and games. There's cleaning, shopping, taking out the trash, scooping the dog poop--and since we've been here we've had medical appointments and work done on our car. I've edited a client's manuscript and worked most days on my book. In the evenings, we cook and watch </span><i style="font-family: verdana;">Jeopardy</i><span style="font-family: verdana;">.</span></span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">All of these things contribute to the feeling of a stranger's house becoming ours--and then before we know it, it's time to pack up and leave. The bed, the writing table, the neighborhood, the pets--everything that was "ours" is about to exit our lives. Right now we are three days away from leaving, residing </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">in that in-between space between home-dweller and nomad. And where are we heading? To do three more housesits in two different countries--pictures and stories to come.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">PS: For more about our housesitting lives, check out this piece on <a href="https://www.thetravellinghousesitters.com/interview-with-intrepid-travelers-and-house-sitters/?fbclid=IwAR3OKtn59OeepmG5-Rb269XRD0xYlg6AMu7Krxe-XMulGNxIcR9KNJZS3Hw" target="_blank">The Traveling House Sitters</a>.</span></p>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-73348709934778968912022-03-28T20:50:00.004-07:002022-04-18T14:21:09.105-07:00Coming Out of the Cave<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfpBN7wDWNEWBqcpf6mwPRvH3bQxM1jBZTiocBWXJ34F6rVcBsUq6VnMaKcpDQsHu_X2_yvvfURszid7_QudO0ldL6CVCZloVRrhnRT_DMajjeYs7lFSG0eZ6ztz3V2tEBk-P5W6fdhoXY22s_cb4JTSpffvDylhX6ESJgN_384eh0feekVUZArG_o/w400-h300/Manchester.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">Manchester</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"> </span></p><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">When we accepted a four-month housesit in Washington state, we imagined we'd spend time with friends and out in nature: snowshoeing, skiing, hiking. But our winter became a hibernation.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">First, though, we did a four-day sit in Manchester, across the Puget Sound from Seattle. I lived in Seattle for three years, but I'd never even heard of Manchester, an unincorporated community next to Port Orchard. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh87_KBdz0mX15wWK7iFRmXd2YnIXfSUjHd70dUWaVSEQxGvvLvmme_qQiRcH__6XP239dE4lvo1z_GAwUKHQrBf4KQ0gwi4eQhILmUl_j6P6WZtAwfy6R4fAZ7zlkQ0HPGa42o6FewkX6ciJ76-xfEe8conVUdD4uOS7WRRhqzp3hKhYbF-Oe1NFCw/s1944/WA%20Manchester%20view%20of%20Mt%20Ranier.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh87_KBdz0mX15wWK7iFRmXd2YnIXfSUjHd70dUWaVSEQxGvvLvmme_qQiRcH__6XP239dE4lvo1z_GAwUKHQrBf4KQ0gwi4eQhILmUl_j6P6WZtAwfy6R4fAZ7zlkQ0HPGa42o6FewkX6ciJ76-xfEe8conVUdD4uOS7WRRhqzp3hKhYbF-Oe1NFCw/w400-h300/WA%20Manchester%20view%20of%20Mt%20Ranier.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">Mt. Rainier from the back deck</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">The house had a view of the Seattle skyline in one direction and Mt. Rainier in another. After our epic road trip (which I wrote about <a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/10/drivin-to-new-orleans.html" target="_blank">here </a>and <a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/11/seven-hops-from-louisiana-to-colorado.html" target="_blank">here </a>and <a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/12/and-road-trip-continued.html" target="_blank">here</a>), it felt like pure bliss to soak in this hot tub.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXYhHVCA_cpPucnYDgQbIa9v0ki9unKA97rJMZx6FGsVgPkvWDcn9c2WooiLfv252IjXvJJNCs3cNEAWuHTSMRYp3hrxH2cIBp72KiIGJMjMWFBHy6nnG9V-rmUCSIivGUP30EuTkPBWz_HZvti_kMzJkbJiMAGvEus2lAaplzOwmM8spmARyURAb/s1440/WA%20Manchester%20hot%20tub.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXYhHVCA_cpPucnYDgQbIa9v0ki9unKA97rJMZx6FGsVgPkvWDcn9c2WooiLfv252IjXvJJNCs3cNEAWuHTSMRYp3hrxH2cIBp72KiIGJMjMWFBHy6nnG9V-rmUCSIivGUP30EuTkPBWz_HZvti_kMzJkbJiMAGvEus2lAaplzOwmM8spmARyURAb/w400-h300/WA%20Manchester%20hot%20tub.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial;">ahhh.....</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Usually we get our sits through <a href="https://www.trustedhousesitters.com/refer/RAF140357/?utm_medium=refer-a-friend&utm_campaign=refer-a-friend&utm_source=copy-link" target="_blank">Trusted Housesitters</a>, but this one had been a personal request from the homeowner, Kim, whom we'd met in <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/08/slow-mads-in-kauai.html" target="_blank">Kauai</a>. Our task was to take care of her gorgeous home and two adorable Golden Retrievers.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgS3yKEt3kD2EAB82pXzCiAJrcbzJoYXBlwCFkur1r4GGMTOkilDlTxOLTGGc2RpL-Q-AZvQGbxplUmxiFc2CWTEdONKwPyud_fAvNCj7KZDQ2k1WNnE6FwsPVekPHOn1BsOufViyjmXOEyA7tAvwP-I4S7JouKbIsMf9Mblc7gtOPww-4ciGbAGGl/s2048/Cooper%20and%20Abby.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1598" data-original-width="2048" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgS3yKEt3kD2EAB82pXzCiAJrcbzJoYXBlwCFkur1r4GGMTOkilDlTxOLTGGc2RpL-Q-AZvQGbxplUmxiFc2CWTEdONKwPyud_fAvNCj7KZDQ2k1WNnE6FwsPVekPHOn1BsOufViyjmXOEyA7tAvwP-I4S7JouKbIsMf9Mblc7gtOPww-4ciGbAGGl/w400-h313/Cooper%20and%20Abby.jpg" width="400"></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">Cooper and Abbey</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">While we were there, Dena and Gary--the homeowners of our upcoming sit --came by for an afternoon. We were supposed to meet in person at their house, but because of Covid travel issues, they had to leave earlier than expected for their four months in South Africa. I enjoyed getting to know them in a relaxed way. Usually we meet the hosts a day or two (or hours) before they leave, which can be taxing since they need to orient us to the house and pets while they're packing.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigfO4G1ugg4t77BqBPfxrVvdtePrYXFJ-Sdcjhv9cBFGU58Qud6ZUidh4IJOzJUsJ_zuPdZxNCmgIyC34MVsg5XJ7-pNavedn7De6enp9GqHYU9nhhu-_PAf3_4T9yodEQvTqY2OKzNBlJhRrcmfzVEc3Kle4_mr7bk_AcFFDrb6jI39_l1HHsIqma/w400-h300/Rocky.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">Rocky loves Dave</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigfO4G1ugg4t77BqBPfxrVvdtePrYXFJ-Sdcjhv9cBFGU58Qud6ZUidh4IJOzJUsJ_zuPdZxNCmgIyC34MVsg5XJ7-pNavedn7De6enp9GqHYU9nhhu-_PAf3_4T9yodEQvTqY2OKzNBlJhRrcmfzVEc3Kle4_mr7bk_AcFFDrb6jI39_l1HHsIqma/s960/Rocky.jpg" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"></span></a></p><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">The house is southeast of Seattle on Cougar Mountain between Renton and Issaquah. Soon after we moved in, a monumental snowstorm hit. This custom home in the woods has plentiful large windows and a fireplace, so it felt like being in a lovely, warm snow globe. That was until the pipes froze and the water pump broke. Also, sweet Rocky was having digestive issues, which meant cleaning up a lot of accidents. Given that they were on the other side of the world, Dena and Gary were very responsive. It took a while, but a new pump was installed, and the cat's gut stabilized, more or less, with the help of probiotics. </span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1555" data-original-width="2048" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-00QTbAmWqUAE8g4BDs9g4Ojw1_CXMz0rYVjTBNm-ELUU1O462R9cPQPXiir74LcwV4NP70DPcaRfyHyF1nmsIDTOiuhCso8q4yvuB0GQe6ywIDrhMEwDU61DyevUt__JcbCERrjDXGGFxgVJ2mHoMjOpZdHH19Jaqbtuw-nibuWksC64VcC8lV7b/w400-h304/snow.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">view from the snow globe</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-00QTbAmWqUAE8g4BDs9g4Ojw1_CXMz0rYVjTBNm-ELUU1O462R9cPQPXiir74LcwV4NP70DPcaRfyHyF1nmsIDTOiuhCso8q4yvuB0GQe6ywIDrhMEwDU61DyevUt__JcbCERrjDXGGFxgVJ2mHoMjOpZdHH19Jaqbtuw-nibuWksC64VcC8lV7b/s2048/snow.jpg" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"></span></a></p><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">Our dear friends Tony, Shannon and Ava, who live in So Cal, happened to be in the area and came for a night, braving the steep, icy roads. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyraSjXKvPknC6JPVsXU6BPvAaESA7IE1fPv5M9F68QTrJcpHiZ7Z58X1qBtQxk5919QA62d9FPpk1dQSCwMmTkkgVZ_xQRHx0TsHeYj3QhSj8gjumS9ne7foGzS61U8k1toW1Q5b7SNwZhUUTtd750qjvxtwSR1r7XqZEfLfP4e0LLlV5wOG3hG5Pnw/s1944/shannon.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyraSjXKvPknC6JPVsXU6BPvAaESA7IE1fPv5M9F68QTrJcpHiZ7Z58X1qBtQxk5919QA62d9FPpk1dQSCwMmTkkgVZ_xQRHx0TsHeYj3QhSj8gjumS9ne7foGzS61U8k1toW1Q5b7SNwZhUUTtd750qjvxtwSR1r7XqZEfLfP4e0LLlV5wOG3hG5Pnw/w400-h300/shannon.jpg" width="400"></span></a></div><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial;"><br></span></span><p></p><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">We were able to get out snowshoeing at Snoqualmie Pass, and we took a few hikes after the snow melted. But the whole time I wasn't feeling my usual vibrant self. Truth be told, I hadn't felt great for a while but traditional doctors and specialists weren't helping. I wanted someone who'd look at my whole self and who was versed in holistic medicine.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNYb4xSOZMnyjb23oTN4mLNK6g3EljbV-tSAn8Ipuwouz0VePorqDNcmtp_-fEo_khLEI-rTXPfGgai2BB8vAyAaGzuWPaKUMY8_Xvs2G3zWGyxKCtRilhmJ4zVbiN9l0uM53t-sW5-SIGjY5n9kTawhuNkQxZj5F--1Gp93TwOjgd_D-HpqTTwsAu/w400-h300/snowshoe.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br><br><br></span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="1080" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhckpRM219le7l2lKPSGxmdEqCNQZqROeL4ahDDa09F3onCFYcSCO519FIjvLXm-b9-bEQBR0JuOW36Z-D-TTAWr4Qs8F6XiL1C7X2D5skWvO5XYX2axo_blfjKZOLgB1-hBP6CkKgqxgguwq9MAIlf4BqNekZadYvXIgHstG8Yf0l7_WjPit3FcwnS/w400-h300/licorice%20fern%20trail.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">Licorice Fern Creek</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhckpRM219le7l2lKPSGxmdEqCNQZqROeL4ahDDa09F3onCFYcSCO519FIjvLXm-b9-bEQBR0JuOW36Z-D-TTAWr4Qs8F6XiL1C7X2D5skWvO5XYX2axo_blfjKZOLgB1-hBP6CkKgqxgguwq9MAIlf4BqNekZadYvXIgHstG8Yf0l7_WjPit3FcwnS/s1080/licorice%20fern%20trail.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></a></span></p><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNYb4xSOZMnyjb23oTN4mLNK6g3EljbV-tSAn8Ipuwouz0VePorqDNcmtp_-fEo_khLEI-rTXPfGgai2BB8vAyAaGzuWPaKUMY8_Xvs2G3zWGyxKCtRilhmJ4zVbiN9l0uM53t-sW5-SIGjY5n9kTawhuNkQxZj5F--1Gp93TwOjgd_D-HpqTTwsAu/s2048/snowshoe.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"></a></span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">I lucked out that there's an integrative practitioner in my network nearby. I learned that I have two issues going on that I'm being treated for with supplements and one pharmaceutical. I was also instructed to rest a lot and not stress myself physically or mentally. So I upped my meditation and also, upon the doc's advice, bought an infrared sauna blanket that I wrap up in like a sleeping bag to sweat out impurities. The thought of being a sweaty mummy made me laugh, but after the first time I was hooked.</span></span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br></span></span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br></span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSFLvOtYVXyhEXxvEPlw94QDFaw33CfVAf_lVO5UCIUErhLY626FZc8gyzWC2BCFV3OFopYaep_58WtraL50CXy3Yjy7b-xNV4TzDOaKK5Wpp5ubZDksvOkWYGO1JmoWJC4zGHhIvGfwfAvvYCIrsqG6pmIZIFBXf44tm4lQ1b--K118NTwQWX634-/w400-h300/Dave%20surgery.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">elfish, post surgery</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: #1d2228;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSFLvOtYVXyhEXxvEPlw94QDFaw33CfVAf_lVO5UCIUErhLY626FZc8gyzWC2BCFV3OFopYaep_58WtraL50CXy3Yjy7b-xNV4TzDOaKK5Wpp5ubZDksvOkWYGO1JmoWJC4zGHhIvGfwfAvvYCIrsqG6pmIZIFBXf44tm4lQ1b--K118NTwQWX634-/s2048/Dave%20surgery.jpg" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"></span></a></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #1d2228;">And then Dave went to the dermatologist, who said the irritating thing on his nose was basal cell carcinoma and had to come off. The </span><a href="https://www.aad.org/public/diseases/skin-cancer/types/common/melanoma/mohs-surgery" style="color: #1d2228;" target="_blank">Mohs surgery</a><span style="color: #1d2228;"> he underwent took five hours and involved transplanting a piece of ear cartilage onto his nose. The recovery, he was told, would take 4-6 weeks. Given two spots on his face were affected, sleeping wasn't easy. And he had to be extra careful of his nose to make sure the transplant would take, changing bandages and seeing the surgeon weekly. We have lots of reasons to be grateful for being in one place for four months, surrounded by good health care.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2228; font-size: large;"><br></span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="522" data-original-width="795" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA7ChOPdv-iv8-uBnpDP9klWX7sQEMy0v_Wc3FEJijEfFYjtyzzwPxvqoOICAc7Ca5bEIMn4AOZ2PcRuzQ4QkIQ1RTORnKrwAOiMpacCoOLKibyIxHL_0c3bryvjvuGO-x-eN934u11aPWn2yf8iodEhgGkXN4_CxbLmV7KsuCBiICWohoq_TWI1OS/w400-h263/CW.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">check it out <a href="https://www.audible.com/pd/Call-It-Wonder-Audiobook/B09P1ZWNYW" target="_blank">here</a></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA7ChOPdv-iv8-uBnpDP9klWX7sQEMy0v_Wc3FEJijEfFYjtyzzwPxvqoOICAc7Ca5bEIMn4AOZ2PcRuzQ4QkIQ1RTORnKrwAOiMpacCoOLKibyIxHL_0c3bryvjvuGO-x-eN934u11aPWn2yf8iodEhgGkXN4_CxbLmV7KsuCBiICWohoq_TWI1OS/s795/CW.jpg" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"></span></a></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: large;">So, as it's turned out, we spent a lot of time in the house, </span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: large;">healing--other than going to see a play in downtown Issaquah that Dena and Gary kindly gave us tickets for. We've both read up a storm, and Dave has been studying Spanish. I've written seven chapters of my new book, a memoir about housesitting and nomadic life. Also during this time, my first memoir was released on audiobook. I'm biased, but I think the reader did a great job.</span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3IuIDyZuplxjllTcTncjaWebdkwq49UCH3YXVSMLcjGB1rVcdKZ2CC48N9chteSNAsT5gp4ojUaAxYYCfiMJABvcRLVWBCjz2IUN-xMn6UhbirkES9e3bM1ucmi88XWfjE3vKrJKY52g7soYFjmsBglZWmVl5kM-B8bKPSooW_Y2TBlL92wL-1L_3/w400-h300/GL.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br></span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: large;">The past two weeks, we were feeling ready to see some friends. The first were Gary and Laurie, old pals of my parents. They are both in their late eighties and inspire me with the way they live, talking walks, enjoying eating out, and being involved in their retirement community--and Laurie, whose art I've always admired, still paints.</span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="908" data-original-width="960" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDLtmg2vkkRmTsBnlu30ZcQK9dFzIRP4lxlDzF72Cg9KI3YekY3LjmItunb751GAEymXKAMAiYF6OsEVKb_hRvPd5V1ZhSdahsHCzMYDe9G50BcPn320bI45NKOjyybHo_H-i1J9FbwyK8vC3Jhx-W7OOurPwFTR-PO5-tQFVeuzT158gRyhm4gLxK/s320/parents.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">Laurie gave me this picture I'd never seen before <br>(my parents with my sister Ann and me on the right).</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: #1d2228;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDLtmg2vkkRmTsBnlu30ZcQK9dFzIRP4lxlDzF72Cg9KI3YekY3LjmItunb751GAEymXKAMAiYF6OsEVKb_hRvPd5V1ZhSdahsHCzMYDe9G50BcPn320bI45NKOjyybHo_H-i1J9FbwyK8vC3Jhx-W7OOurPwFTR-PO5-tQFVeuzT158gRyhm4gLxK/s960/parents.jpg" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"></span></a></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br></span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We also had lunch with my longtime friend Jennifer and her husband Dwight, and then followed them north to their house in Richmond Beach, which overlooks the Puget Sound. Crazy, but I lived two blocks away years ago, before they were there. Dave and Dwight did car stuff, while Jen and I went on a long walk and fell back into our bond as though it had been days, not years, </span><a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2014/09/inadvertent-high-school-reunion.html" style="font-family: arial;" target="_blank">since we'd seen each other</a><span style="font-family: arial;">.</span></span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br></span></span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br></span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ySEnKBQFfZ2jlw5VN5xndXzoxJFyUPvamUPlLX0W10dP26NaKiWxEoJQtephiJoGIYmBDBHEh_av7Ks0On7Id15AmC3vtatk7HFNs8_vlA663kXh5kI59Nxp1cvnwLx2d7J1v7d0jniNWy4TKnkP2uMOQUsDUhbxsuK5u5t1cbrLB-zrziAsFiDk/w400-h300/jen.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">We were in a high school musical together.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="color: #1d2228;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ySEnKBQFfZ2jlw5VN5xndXzoxJFyUPvamUPlLX0W10dP26NaKiWxEoJQtephiJoGIYmBDBHEh_av7Ks0On7Id15AmC3vtatk7HFNs8_vlA663kXh5kI59Nxp1cvnwLx2d7J1v7d0jniNWy4TKnkP2uMOQUsDUhbxsuK5u5t1cbrLB-zrziAsFiDk/s2048/jen.jpg" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"></span></a></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br></span></span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br></span></span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1071" data-original-width="1607" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwXgkRnCOpRbmXyF66A7UinMNOFJYQxPy1UGsQI30ZfrUBbB2SEfapUODvnRsu7hBH3ERwbw0GA-xtAxZiyQgRznEhAx3BQexIOlxMJIsLn-BeHFvw-M4dotljpNqkKnXR6I3qdFhoiEvqhwi-Uzzpcy2GHaYTL9Kr0Q7tl8yKzyiReaLA4jOJ1XGT/w400-h266/D%20Jag.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">Dwight in his 1953 Jaguar</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwXgkRnCOpRbmXyF66A7UinMNOFJYQxPy1UGsQI30ZfrUBbB2SEfapUODvnRsu7hBH3ERwbw0GA-xtAxZiyQgRznEhAx3BQexIOlxMJIsLn-BeHFvw-M4dotljpNqkKnXR6I3qdFhoiEvqhwi-Uzzpcy2GHaYTL9Kr0Q7tl8yKzyiReaLA4jOJ1XGT/s1607/D%20Jag.jpg" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"></span></a></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3IuIDyZuplxjllTcTncjaWebdkwq49UCH3YXVSMLcjGB1rVcdKZ2CC48N9chteSNAsT5gp4ojUaAxYYCfiMJABvcRLVWBCjz2IUN-xMn6UhbirkES9e3bM1ucmi88XWfjE3vKrJKY52g7soYFjmsBglZWmVl5kM-B8bKPSooW_Y2TBlL92wL-1L_3/s1944/GL.jpg" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"></span></a></div></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><br></span></span></div><div style="color: #1d2228;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">To those of you we didn't get to see on this Pacific Northwest trip, we hope to be able to get together another time. Our main focus had to be getting healthy for what's ahead between now and October: eight housesits in three countries. Like the other hibernating creatures, we welcome spring, refreshed. </span></span></div>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-12628915274087951902021-12-19T16:59:00.001-08:002021-12-20T08:48:37.296-08:00Rocky Mountain High<span style="font-size: large;"><br><br><br></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1276" data-original-width="1913" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtRs858Kn22Mq0JRV6oauTYVity6jVgLMysRqCvwLuKOUm2bE1ceyoTXyEuxTJtf5KY9th3yjcaPCMStCcDd_4h74xhEAlUeciRqXonGJx9GF4onQ-wJMi--mp4yrd3FSeuz8Ep53UpAre_p05qTmq2NZihaZKlmMYk6NFbD7ZSEqifkamhKp_KRXpBA=w400-h266" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Washington Park, Denver</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgtRs858Kn22Mq0JRV6oauTYVity6jVgLMysRqCvwLuKOUm2bE1ceyoTXyEuxTJtf5KY9th3yjcaPCMStCcDd_4h74xhEAlUeciRqXonGJx9GF4onQ-wJMi--mp4yrd3FSeuz8Ep53UpAre_p05qTmq2NZihaZKlmMYk6NFbD7ZSEqifkamhKp_KRXpBA=s1913" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></a></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">After </span><a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/11/seven-hops-from-louisiana-to-colorado.html" style="font-family: verdana;" target="_blank">hopping from Louisiana to Colorado</a><span style="font-family: verdana;">, we drove right up to the home of friends in Denver. Lee, Dave's longtime ski-and-music buddy, recently moved out of South Lake Tahoe, where his home nearly burned down in the Caldor Fire. He now lives with Heather in a tree-lined neighborhood within walking distance of beautiful Washington Park. It was sweet to spend two nights with them. Score: nomadic life!</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1320" data-original-width="1760" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgKicqL9AnX5x_cWSu-eFi6_6MSloAASInCKxVWeyBhaN3wXck9CdxiSO9rYCl-rCnj0bKfXoz3wmMvCQI8nDYZIghxu75jgBXQvki2UdAA6RG56aPFBOHv8PZtJ2JWLIa6AU8zRzY3ytnB5pZxoDjOfgqTOc43k5-LgKz2SmQdtYDXzvothV2crp5bQg=w400-h300" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>With Heather and Lee on a crisp fall day.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Next we drove an hour northwest to Longmont to see what kind of life we'd be living for the next month on a housesit. The young couple (in their twenties) were headed to South America. On our Skype with them earlier, she mentioned they were going because her parents had died. She didn't give us the details on the tragedy, nor did we probe. When we met in person, they were both kind and relaxed as they introduced us to Chula (the black lab) and Peitica (the cat). Peitica is adorable, but we'd soon discover she hated not being in the bedroom at night and would serve as our alarm clock early every morning by stretching up to the knob to try to open the door.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCL0EzKinIQSN-ED2nEmmdHzQYzYWM5rvGIvq8bFGk8fTaqjm9C9bpB4F0K3XExTJcjmG93pbV9J5DLAFN2I6zQFUklUbmihRTO1rBOosNrOS4o-KoCEseVB9ge2tfv5e4xBy8r_N8oRqEsr4-Y7DdaKv_iU-0SomEXSSeK1JwDsY7uqFDIRV0HBWA_A=w400-h300" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>stretchy cat</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhCL0EzKinIQSN-ED2nEmmdHzQYzYWM5rvGIvq8bFGk8fTaqjm9C9bpB4F0K3XExTJcjmG93pbV9J5DLAFN2I6zQFUklUbmihRTO1rBOosNrOS4o-KoCEseVB9ge2tfv5e4xBy8r_N8oRqEsr4-Y7DdaKv_iU-0SomEXSSeK1JwDsY7uqFDIRV0HBWA_A=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></a></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">They were a bit apologetic about the lack of furniture in the house. They had recently rented the place, they explained, and were saving money to buy a home. It was a darling old house built in 1883. A plaque out front designated the date and original buyer, just like most of the homes in the Historic East Side neighborhood.</span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1168" data-original-width="1752" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj2UvFle3--P_gGnvLxBdyjzbGgVqbcJQFrglq2ytfi1ENeax8li8sGcXSOML69z9CIQWHuA68KH4CPvYf5T-7HgtPZ-PvJzlg-M2_bOjIgXbz0S43Tw2PgAcmXtJLvXFjzNa_dzxYh439073-oSgcS5KUq8euZxF_-avdSzpcSjp73uKBAar8RDnczbQ=w400-h266" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Our home for a month</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">I didn't think a spartan house would be a problem for a month. The bed was just a mattress (fortunately, a comfy one) on the floor and the couch was small and low. Thank god for yoga that our "seasoned" bodies are mobile enough to drop to the floor and stand up again. But I soon realized there was no table, not even one in the yard we could bring inside. I could live without a table for a few days, maybe a week...but a month? </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">Fortunately it was the weekend and someone was having a yard sale nearby. We jumped in the car and for 30 bucks scored a table and chairs that, after tightening some screws, did the trick. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiBMI2_upqFGqIp0FwQYY4m76veLbRlx94pLlF4HFbp2xbbFMY5mkGriWv1IZkGXmOxESIRV7WjaAb8j9LVf7kBZSR0pcPUPpYqLeNYeP2gmsKDrAKRaM0m3yl8GiuGbY4lxa3VxsvSI1iJ7ue_8K31t8c_cfe5J_jjtgCtgDSCVe4dQLkNvFAYGKAjNw=w400-h300" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>A housesitting first: buying furniture.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiBMI2_upqFGqIp0FwQYY4m76veLbRlx94pLlF4HFbp2xbbFMY5mkGriWv1IZkGXmOxESIRV7WjaAb8j9LVf7kBZSR0pcPUPpYqLeNYeP2gmsKDrAKRaM0m3yl8GiuGbY4lxa3VxsvSI1iJ7ue_8K31t8c_cfe5J_jjtgCtgDSCVe4dQLkNvFAYGKAjNw=s960" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></a></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">I sent a message to the hosts asking them if they wanted a free table. If not, we'd get rid of it before we left. They were thrilled to keep it! And it made me feel good to help out a young couple, especially since they were going through a tough time. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1265" data-original-width="1581" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjDRQPMojUrvc-LNyFP5boKZtd_fposGiioU5oJJbXSGLjiCSq-iLXoDYFK70hWXTgkCG-lgzXTa-vROv3PXjk-Zger6sSxvhLFQVFZvhPLZyLkRj_cJFmiTmzsshOUQHHYY_gtw_Ar0rJ3AW8uv1gC4of6pEr2dScAQDIqwbXBGkTuJMwRwF5xF_W-Fg=w400-h320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Hanging out with Teddy and Chula</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">Every day we walked the dog around the neighborhood, gazing at the old homes, some of which were elaborately restored. Downtown Longmont was just a couple of blocks away. It's charming, and it has not one, but TWO, great bookstores. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1810" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj2nMqY75LRxxCfnDR7nGCIU-f44HDoGWxAlwBHSHh3KmlKPBfqjo6srk9VaHnExeUY09eKAI5hvw-4xt_SErnDptn1sMMwVopWjBzCWpFxbcvwgnuvrIPAeGkKmuRxIHd3vMJxGP4wEELZV6cTN1A7Z6JQx7wJmEiManYQY37WQEf-n5aSR79tighKog=w400-h299" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>A nurse came to give Chula, who has had surgery, laser treatments.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We also spent some time in Rocky Mountain National Park. Days were mostly blue sky and cold, great for hiking around this spectacular place. There are so many trails you could easily spend weeks exploring lakes, waterfalls, and mountains.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgzyCQ-edWJSe_vdO26lkK4eynrJEFHXAbI7ej_AwbmC4j_dGB2YV1d0fnVTufnwbobZS85i3Nv8I6c5XARNXEojWZVRz933TyQZEM04X6QtPrNgI-kQxdmC3uzizr5hZqKBXFT1UGqrt8Uo9cumWj16YbZuW33omDxi7yvv430m4XO9UWh5J8e9Y0cvw=w400-h300" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>The Continental Divide</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgzyCQ-edWJSe_vdO26lkK4eynrJEFHXAbI7ej_AwbmC4j_dGB2YV1d0fnVTufnwbobZS85i3Nv8I6c5XARNXEojWZVRz933TyQZEM04X6QtPrNgI-kQxdmC3uzizr5hZqKBXFT1UGqrt8Uo9cumWj16YbZuW33omDxi7yvv430m4XO9UWh5J8e9Y0cvw=s1440" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></a></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg8f_bCMg9UaxTr5G5hnT-cnx3VchRzIpoAfdG_bEmZGny2lOIOQjPDJ3SWZ9bMpkQXpxRT-55KXsnR8lFj5KzKzbBJAPmc6URpxiIFbEuZJP5iZEak-IVZ6lbPjUN8scsIfklwdSf3lxDlVQLMhM9XtkMPgplIyiiNoGF71g6R-ssfbzwr2URLVeCPwA=w400-h300" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Lily Lake at Rocky Mountain NP</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg8f_bCMg9UaxTr5G5hnT-cnx3VchRzIpoAfdG_bEmZGny2lOIOQjPDJ3SWZ9bMpkQXpxRT-55KXsnR8lFj5KzKzbBJAPmc6URpxiIFbEuZJP5iZEak-IVZ6lbPjUN8scsIfklwdSf3lxDlVQLMhM9XtkMPgplIyiiNoGF71g6R-ssfbzwr2URLVeCPwA=s1944" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></a></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEib3nEXxbxmmxznupmJaSGBTyiiA30fzRH4Bqs4HqPp6gro0EA_gPU5A_JjSD6XBXFBraU-wvJ-uRSqfPr5DWW_X9x88ScVVd1Ch6tDbnfrQ30o4wHl7PRHpYjkAMdeO9Cb-8YBav9lAGR0txVoDeNUsLBEhr3HQBNmSqQjjG5mPPWKNPz3KR074iWQMQ=w400-h300" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Bear Lake, Rocky Mountain NP</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1250" data-original-width="1874" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOKSwZ4jSW3vblxdNwSkLC5yWGkJIWyVU0peJOuNZhyil6l3WMO4g8kyo7BjtZr2KUYBiHk7RwWvyoZbwxYdmbjzus6eMip6KMz6lrtm23UHfGZC8oU0zADOSyrl6r0rJ5FOvVMAoHu3l9c-7Cr5yHuRK7yzHBgSGNBNZjQ6XBcRS6zyqaGV9esgfLiA=w400-h266" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Upper Copeland Falls</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOKSwZ4jSW3vblxdNwSkLC5yWGkJIWyVU0peJOuNZhyil6l3WMO4g8kyo7BjtZr2KUYBiHk7RwWvyoZbwxYdmbjzus6eMip6KMz6lrtm23UHfGZC8oU0zADOSyrl6r0rJ5FOvVMAoHu3l9c-7Cr5yHuRK7yzHBgSGNBNZjQ6XBcRS6zyqaGV9esgfLiA=s1874" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></a></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Being nomads/slomads/traveling retirees/digital nomads means we belong to a tribe. On one of the many online travel groups, I connected with Karen about </span><a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=baja" style="font-family: verdana;" target="_blank">Baja</a><span style="font-family: verdana;">, since she and her husband Jeff were headed there soon. She volunteered to listen to a draft of the audio of my </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Call-Wonder-odyssey-spirit-travel/dp/099618242X/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=call+it+wonder+kate+evans&qid=1639958151&sr=8-1" style="font-family: verdana;" target="_blank">memoir </a><span style="font-family: verdana;">for any glitches. (It will be released soon by the </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Complementary-Colors/dp/B0971SQWX6/ref=sr_1_16?keywords=Kate+Evans&qid=1639958233&s=audible&sr=1-16" style="font-family: verdana;" target="_blank">same company</a><span style="font-family: verdana;"> that did my </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/For-the-May-Queen/dp/B0971SDC2F/ref=tmm_aud_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1639958202&sr=8-1" style="font-family: verdana;" target="_blank">two </a><span style="font-family: verdana;">novels.) And when we discovered we'd be in Colorado at the same time, we made a plan to meet IRL, as they say.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">They chose the</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span><a href="https://www.boulderteahouse.com/" style="font-family: verdana;" target="_blank">Dushanbe Teahouse</a>, <span style="font-family: verdana;">a unique restaurant with a delectable menu in a stunning, elaborate building. Yes, the place deserves all these superlatives. The building was given as a gift to the city of Boulder from its sister city, Tajikistan, and reassembled upon arrival.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1262" data-original-width="1893" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgxXvf2lYfw-198SrBc5P9xlU7EW7dMsrBsNXClVwIrfN0v-wGkZm4sc5nLGkox18GRxeSqvmFfrpSsAP-ZSaN2ViIgsRCeOH6uG3YFjjjuYzolaUH1ygVBwveiubN532-YdCK78mI6V73KTiOucX-z2mHTRdoZbKPyGI9I2YL9l1Kkoj44C_H3-BIF-w=w400-h266" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">see <a href="https://www.boulderteahouse.com/" target="_blank">more pictures</a> here </span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Jeff, </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">a longtime resident, is</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> very knowledgeable about the history of the area and filled us in as we took a post-lunch stroll. We also talked about our lives and our plans and our histories like we were old friends. The next week we hung out with them at their beautiful home in Lyons. Karen gave us the Hieronymous Bosch "Garden of Earthly Delights" jigsaw puzzle she'd completed while listening to my memoir. A perfect gift for our winter plans.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUPBdEqeADQN4jgIaM-GgYMxvFRBwYYi3P8wp3_fr5OMX-IBNCmDkwx0b7JhbeORh4XhUltW9teCTDwauE_POJbbP56t2l0pGnTPZzaVZZxleAPb5YrJCvR6kShTQBq76o7SvPHW9ki1-iq7BfdpVTkJRQkq_OtJoMw8PFdLFFnZcGaKiV2nxoiZBUvg=w400-h300" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400"></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>new friends</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUPBdEqeADQN4jgIaM-GgYMxvFRBwYYi3P8wp3_fr5OMX-IBNCmDkwx0b7JhbeORh4XhUltW9teCTDwauE_POJbbP56t2l0pGnTPZzaVZZxleAPb5YrJCvR6kShTQBq76o7SvPHW9ki1-iq7BfdpVTkJRQkq_OtJoMw8PFdLFFnZcGaKiV2nxoiZBUvg=s1944" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></a></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Soon, though, the time came for Dave and me to roll on to the next place: Washington ... which is where we are now. My next post will tell you how we got here and what the heck we are doing in one place for a full <i>four </i>months...the longest since <a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/02/our-nomadic-winter.html" target="_blank">we left Mexico </a>more than a year ago.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Happy holidays and tons of love to everyone!</span></p>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-25633988984000158622021-11-22T12:41:00.001-08:002021-11-22T12:41:46.730-08:0010 Books That Make Great Gifts!<div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;">This year I read a number of wonderful books that were published independently or by small presses. Since you might not hear about these books, I decided to feature ten of them. They are all recently released and make great gifts!</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><table border="0" cellspacing="1" class="myActivity" style="background-color: white; color: #181818; table-layout: fixed; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b>NONFICTION</b><br /><br /></span><br /><br /><table border="0" cellspacing="1" class="myActivity" style="color: #181818; font-family: verdana; table-layout: fixed; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2" style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfuPO1pe7zkjGmk6kBznGytSDCol7e-CNifcEzsxocV77NdbHeIsH47Zs30MY9SB37Ba5I6faXNV1Prueqy_p033Jm-O8_20W9m0CaCLLTJ4EFuz-FIOzYxshMxUu64kiD32jk5S9I_UTG/s346/WL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="224" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfuPO1pe7zkjGmk6kBznGytSDCol7e-CNifcEzsxocV77NdbHeIsH47Zs30MY9SB37Ba5I6faXNV1Prueqy_p033Jm-O8_20W9m0CaCLLTJ4EFuz-FIOzYxshMxUu64kiD32jk5S9I_UTG/w259-h400/WL.jpg" width="259" /></a></div><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextContainerreview3970198897"><br /><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Wild-Life-Travel-Adventures-Worldly-ebook/dp/B00KKQGNGO/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=wild+life+lisa+alpine&qid=1637611272&sr=8-1" target="_blank">WILD LIFE </a>by <a href="https://lisaalpine.com/" target="_blank">Lisa Alpine</a><br /><br />What a life Lisa Alpine has lived! This book covers her adventurous travels over the span of 40 years. I loved reading these short, often funny, often poignant pieces about her adventures from exploring the Galapagos with a crazy group of people in the early days before there were tours there; to spending several years volunteering at Jazz Fest in New Orleans and meeting so many of the great musicians; to going on a wild tour of Israel with a young, fiery lover.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9nilpDPPJaPftNCNhSc0EnnV7XQ-lAyyGNWOM170f1eX7xb_-QKJbhgBsrfV2oOF4hu711QmMHERBLOeIJbBDyJFAktblOE_ge1Mi0aPh4OHp9R8mEZkowLADB6jzImXoGxuj9SMLflDa/s500/MT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="332" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9nilpDPPJaPftNCNhSc0EnnV7XQ-lAyyGNWOM170f1eX7xb_-QKJbhgBsrfV2oOF4hu711QmMHERBLOeIJbBDyJFAktblOE_ge1Mi0aPh4OHp9R8mEZkowLADB6jzImXoGxuj9SMLflDa/w265-h400/MT.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><table border="0" cellspacing="1" class="myActivity" style="color: #181818; table-layout: fixed; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2" style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextreview4327710777"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Mothertrucker-Finding-Loneliest-Road-America-ebook/dp/B08WWPZ85M/ref=sr_1_1_sspa?crid=2CRZHX5NQMY7V&keywords=mothertrucker+amy+butcher&qid=1637610836&sprefix=mothertrucker%2Caps%2C296&sr=8-1-spons&psc=1&spLa=ZW5jcnlwdGVkUXVhbGlmaWVyPUEyTjlBRFdTRlVPUzFLJmVuY3J5cHRlZElkPUEwMDMxNDYyMkpGRjhFREhQV09JTCZlbmNyeXB0ZWRBZElkPUEwNjIwNjU1Mk9OV1lVRjJVV0U3UiZ3aWRnZXROYW1lPXNwX2F0ZiZhY3Rpb249Y2xpY2tSZWRpcmVjdCZkb05vdExvZ0NsaWNrPXRydWU=" target="_blank">MOTHERTRUCKER </a>by <a href="https://www.amyebutcher.com/" target="_blank">Amy Butcher</a><br /><br />This book weaves together two women's lives: <a href="https://www.ttnews.com/articles/joy-wiebes-passing-mourned-trucking-community" target="_blank">Joy Wiebe</a>, the nation's only woman ice road trucker, and Amy Butcher, a writer and professor who is suffering an abusive relationship. Even though they have different views on religion and politics, they grow close as they share a road adventure in the dazzling, dangerous Alaskan wilderness. This book builds to two crescendos that are empowering and heartbreaking. The portrait of Joy will stay with me a long time, as will Amy's ruminations on domestic abuse (which resonate strongly with the book/Netflix series <i>Maid</i>).<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQwGACX0_5pMzVCmZ6lR6zgT-SGYQdxDnXcVq2CzXBwjzhAyq1iXSl3k67ETDrR4Yz5r4quKMMrQET22Ond_qfUjv8Zjuts6GNu4OYRfw0YgVEDzDnXNIhSrmMW7PmQDC7wal0Cm5j0bBq/s346/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="230" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQwGACX0_5pMzVCmZ6lR6zgT-SGYQdxDnXcVq2CzXBwjzhAyq1iXSl3k67ETDrR4Yz5r4quKMMrQET22Ond_qfUjv8Zjuts6GNu4OYRfw0YgVEDzDnXNIhSrmMW7PmQDC7wal0Cm5j0bBq/w266-h400/2.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br /><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextreview4327710777"><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Burning-Light-Two-Stars-Mother-Daughter-ebook/dp/B08XZMFH46/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=the+burning+light+of+two+stars&qid=1637611571&sr=8-1" target="_blank">THE BURNING LIGHT OF TWO STARS</a> by <a href="https://lauradavis.net/Books/" target="_blank">Laura Davis</a><br /><br />This book hit home on so many levels. I was often moved to tears and teary laughter at Davis' portrayal of her embattled relationship with her difficult, dynamic mother, Temme. When Temme develops dementia, Laura anxiously steps up to fulfill her promise to care for her--even though she feels her mother has betrayed her in the past. How mother and daughter find their way back to each other is a journey portrayed with all its thorns and blossoms.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioo8AEl7O1s1CLyyhD0Ra3KtM3my-gywEwG7SqKzr-e9oacFkTUifxWWS2aA5MwTQ2ktPx3zbI4VkCG6nK7RVPvWyq-xS-YoGIonpR00VWkcWerCCFWlRAcj3qMIjtbLkF4aV9-wXpXaTf/s499/rabbit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="324" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioo8AEl7O1s1CLyyhD0Ra3KtM3my-gywEwG7SqKzr-e9oacFkTUifxWWS2aA5MwTQ2ktPx3zbI4VkCG6nK7RVPvWyq-xS-YoGIonpR00VWkcWerCCFWlRAcj3qMIjtbLkF4aV9-wXpXaTf/w260-h400/rabbit.jpg" width="260" /></a></div><br /><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextreview4327710777"><br /><br /><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08VNSB71D/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i0" target="_blank">RABBIT IN THE MOON</a> by <a href="https://heatherdiamondwriter.com/" target="_blank">Heather Diamond</a><br /><br /><table border="0" cellspacing="1" class="myActivity" style="color: #181818; table-layout: fixed; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2" style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextreview3901305158">There is so much about Heather Diamond 's memoir that resonates with me, especially the propensity to reinvent oneself many times. Her writing is gorgeous, and the story kept me wanting to turn the page. I loved the way her introduction to her new husband's Hong Kong family makes it clear how much family means to them. An introverted white woman born in the U.S., she is both repelled by and drawn into a world so different from her own. This leads to her examination of the emotional and physical distance between her and her own family.<br /><br /><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZMcITSoB0OBz_e3yLwo-crkLk6AgUwpbIJI87E5q5MJX8zkfPAKm2E_3RVI1D2atDdf3uFzeq89GA6MkqGLhvyF34z_S3EE_F8-fvjs8ov91-fiSxvczvM681yD1RTzcA-kPw01Gc_NKd/s500/best.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="328" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZMcITSoB0OBz_e3yLwo-crkLk6AgUwpbIJI87E5q5MJX8zkfPAKm2E_3RVI1D2atDdf3uFzeq89GA6MkqGLhvyF34z_S3EE_F8-fvjs8ov91-fiSxvczvM681yD1RTzcA-kPw01Gc_NKd/s320/best.jpg" width="210" /></a></div><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Best-Breakup-Ever-Bouncing-breakup-ebook/dp/B07V78KSBL/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=best+breakup+ever+april&qid=1637612041&sr=8-1" target="_blank">BEST BREAKUP EVER!</a> by <a href="https://www.aprilhirschman.com/" target="_blank">April Hirschman</a><br /><br /><table border="0" cellspacing="1" class="myActivity" style="color: #181818; table-layout: fixed; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2" style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextreview4194060202">I wish I'd had this book when I was going through my bad breakups. But I still got a lot out of it in terms of self-care. The book is jam-packed with great advice for loving on yourself. It's also freaking hilarious and smart AF. That's April's personality shining through. When I finished reading it, I felt like I was wrapped in love.<br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSg5WHsUEOrbsraAARLCce92EqKm_q6KK76axGs6HYZ8Izb5kvCJnjDzYIDkLSrS1guXhmrrCjG63VFSoU4p1Wbl06iVkK3SBAb5sKa9jGPNZHbz49pAoENBMwKIe1SIz4L4IBjTELirle/s499/swing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="324" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSg5WHsUEOrbsraAARLCce92EqKm_q6KK76axGs6HYZ8Izb5kvCJnjDzYIDkLSrS1guXhmrrCjG63VFSoU4p1Wbl06iVkK3SBAb5sKa9jGPNZHbz49pAoENBMwKIe1SIz4L4IBjTELirle/w260-h400/swing.jpg" width="260" /></a></div><br /><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextreview4194060202"><br /><br /><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Swing-Ashleigh-Renard/dp/1736596888/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=swing+ashleigh&qid=1637612138&sr=8-1" target="_blank">SWING </a>by <a href="https://ashleighrenard.com/" target="_blank">Ashleigh Renard</a><br /><br /><table border="0" cellspacing="1" class="myActivity" style="color: #181818; table-layout: fixed; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2" style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextreview3949153418">The light touch at the beginning of this book segues into powerful soul-searching around sexuality, marriage, and her issues with perfection--mirroring her own journey from surface-to-deep-dive. And yet, while serious, she maintains that sense of humor. I'm sure this book will resonate with those who, as she puts it, want to rehab a shabby marriage.</span><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKx9zZlaacm5GQUym1wDPToxmo1EOfPOyyAgcmHEBHNiCbLE9xmJLhwQ1nf9OY4CUxHyZhXCMblLZ5RJsFdRHVrS_SQhH60cpdMsKAPzuyulPkSo4-g2q75I-xco3CGHOh1jGl3EZ3ka-m/s499/animal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="324" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKx9zZlaacm5GQUym1wDPToxmo1EOfPOyyAgcmHEBHNiCbLE9xmJLhwQ1nf9OY4CUxHyZhXCMblLZ5RJsFdRHVrS_SQhH60cpdMsKAPzuyulPkSo4-g2q75I-xco3CGHOh1jGl3EZ3ka-m/w260-h400/animal.jpg" width="260" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Animal-Bodies-Death-Desire-Difficulties/dp/1496231023/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=animal+bodies&qid=1637612377&sr=8-1" target="_blank">ANIMAL BODIES</a> by <a href="https://www.suzanneroberts.net/" target="_blank">Suzanne Roberts</a><br /><br /><table border="0" cellspacing="1" class="myActivity" style="color: #181818; table-layout: fixed; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2" style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextContainerreview4307079073">It felt like I'd fallen under a spell as I read this book. Roberts weaves stories into powerful insights that honor the complexities of life. She's also darkly funny. The subtitle "Death, Desire and Other Difficulties" covers a wide swath of issues. The ones that most resonated with me were her relationship to her mother (and her mother's past and death), her observations of the way we treat "Animal Bodies" and women's bodies, and how political divides can affect longtime friendships. NOTE: This book doesn't come out until next year, but you can pre-order now. <br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwqjh-SOp3RC2qZ7j9OuKEV7daSj9l0WhncWzxof2OhBboc-iesRcpKG3nPtRij1MYLK8j-C8x-U_jGkFN2C7jMgN2dRv7L1nkgVcImhN0-aPzEm2mSyytib7dTwFMtPSU8czN5DtxgqTr/s499/CallItWonder+Evans+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="333" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwqjh-SOp3RC2qZ7j9OuKEV7daSj9l0WhncWzxof2OhBboc-iesRcpKG3nPtRij1MYLK8j-C8x-U_jGkFN2C7jMgN2dRv7L1nkgVcImhN0-aPzEm2mSyytib7dTwFMtPSU8czN5DtxgqTr/w268-h400/CallItWonder+Evans+cover.jpg" width="268" /></a></div><br /><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextContainerreview4307079073"><br />BONUS MEMOIR: <a href="https://www.kateevanswriter.com/" target="_blank">Mine</a>! <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Call-Wonder-odyssey-spirit-travel/dp/099618242X/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=call+it+wonder&qid=1637612680&sr=8-1" target="_blank">CALL IT WONDER</a>, which won the Bisexual Book Award. Reviewers have called it "insightful" and "inspiring."<br /><br /><br /><b style="font-size: x-large;"><br />FICTION</b><br /><br /><table border="0" cellspacing="1" class="myActivity" style="color: #181818; table-layout: fixed; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2" style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextreview4307033993"><table border="0" cellspacing="1" class="myActivity" style="color: #181818; table-layout: fixed; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2" style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextreview4194060202"><table border="0" cellspacing="1" class="myActivity" style="color: #181818; table-layout: fixed; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2" style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextContainerreview3970198897"><table border="0" cellspacing="1" class="myActivity" style="color: #181818; table-layout: fixed; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2" style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextreview3902497565"><table border="0" cellspacing="1" class="myActivity" style="color: #181818; table-layout: fixed; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2" style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextreview3901305158"><table border="0" cellspacing="1" class="myActivity" style="color: #181818; table-layout: fixed; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2" style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDREpxmLtu4DVcwakMXBy8KKh7UFw5py2g-IFq0Cg6T4iOwd5XNBo3HzkG_Es18e0heT_KTO030Ye-WY6LjJaDvBPoffLkWgrba0BUBKQ3QnaIwsGerLaRbOn4MQ8U6ly0s1d0KTC2dxYl/s260/life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="260" data-original-width="260" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDREpxmLtu4DVcwakMXBy8KKh7UFw5py2g-IFq0Cg6T4iOwd5XNBo3HzkG_Es18e0heT_KTO030Ye-WY6LjJaDvBPoffLkWgrba0BUBKQ3QnaIwsGerLaRbOn4MQ8U6ly0s1d0KTC2dxYl/w400-h400/life.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Life-Orange-Pear-John-Brantingham-ebook/dp/B08MQ671V7/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=life+orange+to+pear+book&qid=1637612591&sr=8-1" target="_blank">LIFE, ORANGE TO PEAR</a> by <a href="https://www.johnbrantingham.com/" target="_blank">John Brantingham</a><br /><br /><table border="0" cellspacing="1" class="myActivity" style="color: #181818; table-layout: fixed; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2" style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextreview3902497565">A bittersweet, quirky, equal parts dark-and-delightful novel. Each chapter reads as a standalone piece, but read the whole thing through to get the most of the relationship between the father and daughter--and to understand the poignant title. I loved this book and want to read more of Brantingham's work.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsD4RyKXXyTXYboHfTpLqK9t80l1Ul-mnqE6GkoowvP7Bqno2gt-az_MQm3qG9bvnf9OffNetq-sN-VURUb3jTaOcnw3VbnEUuUvrpeEx_01rRbqVEJ6GVw6UpDUj5blet1i0kXQpyZSGR/s346/beet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="230" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsD4RyKXXyTXYboHfTpLqK9t80l1Ul-mnqE6GkoowvP7Bqno2gt-az_MQm3qG9bvnf9OffNetq-sN-VURUb3jTaOcnw3VbnEUuUvrpeEx_01rRbqVEJ6GVw6UpDUj5blet1i0kXQpyZSGR/w266-h400/beet.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Beet-Fields-Mystery-Robin-Somers-ebook/dp/B09G5XHHG1/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=beet+fields+book&qid=1637612982&sr=8-2" target="_blank">BEET FIELDS</a> by Robin Somers<br /><br /><br /><table border="0" cellspacing="1" class="myActivity" style="color: #181818; table-layout: fixed; width: 100%px;"><tbody><tr><td colspan="2" style="line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="readable reviewText" style="line-height: 21px;"><span id="freeTextreview4307033993">Santa Cruz is not only the setting but, in a way, a character in this book. I enjoyed reading about my former town as the backdrop in a "murder mystery." Yes, it's that--but it's also a book about organic farming. Her lush descriptions of that life kept me enthralled. The characters are lively and multidimensional, and the suspense kept me turning the page...as did the masterful examination of environmental issues.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHGUGObz0xjbc4RUWBB-FABJ7_2e4SEIuoP2oMG4o67iJmvl_lKa9di1ujlIJVhblomvmR7R7EbVV1AbpmtJImhxF-2C0lHiX5dwukrAb6mO06mH_EUOXwSnIHllSsD4zedDz0wXyEzmm/s2048/RevKiss+cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHGUGObz0xjbc4RUWBB-FABJ7_2e4SEIuoP2oMG4o67iJmvl_lKa9di1ujlIJVhblomvmR7R7EbVV1AbpmtJImhxF-2C0lHiX5dwukrAb6mO06mH_EUOXwSnIHllSsD4zedDz0wXyEzmm/w266-h400/RevKiss+cover.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Revolutionary-Kiss-Mary-Kate-Summers-ebook/dp/B08T6R6RX2/ref=sr_1_3?keywords=revolutionary+kiss&qid=1637613146&sr=8-3" target="_blank">REVOLUTIONARY KISS</a> by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/MaryKateSummers" target="_blank">Mary-Kate Summers</a><br /><br />Mary Janelle Melvin and I co-wrote the novel we wanted to read! Reviewers have said it's in the vein of <i>Dr. Zhivago</i> and <i>Gone with the Wind</i>. Another wrote that it's "passionate, intelligent and thoroughly engrossing." If you enjoy losing yourself in a page-turner, check it out! <br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-860773138847887872021-11-18T14:58:00.001-08:002021-11-18T14:58:38.786-08:00Seven Hops from Louisiana to Colorado<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We had two weeks to make it from <a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/11/new-orleans-fun-for-graying-nomads.html" target="_blank">New Orleans</a> to our month-long housesit in Colorado. Dave researched mini adventures on the route</span><span style="font-family: verdana;">, segmenting the drive so we'd not have more than five or six hours in the car at a time. As we talked it through, I looked into lodging. Hours later, we had a plan. Here's what we did:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">1.<b> </b>I was aching to see the ocean, so we headed east and spent three nights in <b>Gulfport, Mississippi</b>. The road along the coast runs for miles. I felt myself exhale at the sight of white sand and blue water stretching to infinity. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYTfgDOUjrNvqi5bWj5IesC6NU-OFw5EsoVGPnL3oL3grPXteFypzDqgTXFBWsp9nKgXEVrtmrnaXPAreP8JNYQhAd-YKDubpZUQ1AoKgNFk7qrPUVd793_jvnGzcN9R4YFUUfd_UNwxMp/s1440/Approaching+Gulfport+on+boat.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYTfgDOUjrNvqi5bWj5IesC6NU-OFw5EsoVGPnL3oL3grPXteFypzDqgTXFBWsp9nKgXEVrtmrnaXPAreP8JNYQhAd-YKDubpZUQ1AoKgNFk7qrPUVd793_jvnGzcN9R4YFUUfd_UNwxMp/w400-h300/Approaching+Gulfport+on+boat.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Gulfport, as seen from our boat tour</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: verdana;">After we dropped off our stuff at the Airbnb, a </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">kind-of-cute converted shed billed as a cottage, we referred to Dave's notes and plugged <a href="https://goodkarmacafegulfport.com/" target="_blank">Good Karma Cafe</a> into the GPS. The route took us to a parking lot filled with vans. We called the restaurant. They said we were close and redirected us. That took us to a church. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span style="font-family: verdana;">By this time, we were exhausted and hungry. That morning we'd done all the obligatory hard work at the end of a housesit: packing (sounds easy but when you've been in a place for three weeks, not so much), cleaning the house, washing the towels and sheets and making the bed, and driving three hours. But w</span></span><span style="font-family: verdana;">e are nothing if not stubborn in our quest for vegan food, so we called again...and voila! Finally. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvxjs4eTPxYKLxDi6nVZQjUgHaPLukpYjAyD0YgXxniYCzdob2dWCALZo-2TuMMnDpx1rAje0nOcYjsURLxve1_SVRgefFk3Ka3pFv49SW0NepXDhyphenhyphen4aMqbHqcut6ni_nI-7qAXStGhPF/w400-h300/Gulfport+MS+Good+Karma.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">And boy was it worth it. The place is darling, and the Indian/Malaysian fusion food is flavorful...so good, in fact, we went two nights in a row. We chatted with the young cook (his mom owns the place) and his girlfriend who is the server. He likes to write, and she wants to travel. Of course I encouraged him to tell his stories, and we told her about <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=housesitting" target="_blank">housesitting</a>. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjanYPEua-zK_9HV4A_WQ9MDX7iLxLk_eCN-2SK1YZk7if9TUB60QvRZZi27xTsSZfK9FtmmpIi-xKU7YPR_i4joRROdCI7LTEJkSws9am067bYfmEM7oqqkB0rNBwlj-lDiamFifrKTq4n/s1944/gulfport+fishbone+alley.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjanYPEua-zK_9HV4A_WQ9MDX7iLxLk_eCN-2SK1YZk7if9TUB60QvRZZi27xTsSZfK9FtmmpIi-xKU7YPR_i4joRROdCI7LTEJkSws9am067bYfmEM7oqqkB0rNBwlj-lDiamFifrKTq4n/w400-h300/gulfport+fishbone+alley.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Fishbone Alley murals</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">The next two days we explored Gulfport. The small downtown is sprinkled with colorful murals. On a stroll, we happened to come across a breast cancer walk, with people (and dogs) adorned in pink. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR-y_QjGE909_IoPhW8enmYC2zrGyHsR6wzSlmQ-ZCUmmlXE4SzW6Rz7ayQsOHGVpEioXfxfmHNjFxN4qrQqwGkWg6W9pryzCMvD_IMuyC9Q2cgzyl9q8304c5IfT_W4u6A22zTgt1bJgR/s1592/Gulfport+breast+cancer+fundraiser.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1061" data-original-width="1592" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR-y_QjGE909_IoPhW8enmYC2zrGyHsR6wzSlmQ-ZCUmmlXE4SzW6Rz7ayQsOHGVpEioXfxfmHNjFxN4qrQqwGkWg6W9pryzCMvD_IMuyC9Q2cgzyl9q8304c5IfT_W4u6A22zTgt1bJgR/w400-h266/Gulfport+breast+cancer+fundraiser.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We took two hikes, one on the gentle Coffee Creek trail, and another </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">in the Sandhill Crane Wildlife Refuge. After so much city living, it was wonderful to walk in nature, even though we didn't see any of those elusive birds.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzpHgOvK2w1mD_dF6mA9KZ5PpA_JZoIa1k2NueXtn6QcDZV-DybMPPkLXOZ3SCCvuVeHsZwxPukUPlXYCCFIBrzaygu8xZO4yqc_hi4HY36I9fc3gKwv6ckwqmUBH_h90JWdA4kkU1xt8/s1944/Gulfport+Coffee+Creek+trail.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzpHgOvK2w1mD_dF6mA9KZ5PpA_JZoIa1k2NueXtn6QcDZV-DybMPPkLXOZ3SCCvuVeHsZwxPukUPlXYCCFIBrzaygu8xZO4yqc_hi4HY36I9fc3gKwv6ckwqmUBH_h90JWdA4kkU1xt8/w400-h300/Gulfport+Coffee+Creek+trail.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">An egret (not a sandhill crane) one of Dave's gets on Coffee Creek Trail</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">Another day we took a dolphin boat tour and learned from the marine biologist on board that the area is one of the most eco-diverse in the world. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1032" data-original-width="1548" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6NMq9qJHvJSJ49vdTN4LYID2I82WjLCwQ_aqQEl3fhS1kecZ58TTbb_ccC2Y4zIPk9h8BBeqUBKIKff6sif49PivN7L55msMq_k58d31Bta2MWCd2lmzlWEahRmEomMDn2rbaWkKYehoT/w400-h266/Gulfport+dolphin+eco+tour.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Dolphins!</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6NMq9qJHvJSJ49vdTN4LYID2I82WjLCwQ_aqQEl3fhS1kecZ58TTbb_ccC2Y4zIPk9h8BBeqUBKIKff6sif49PivN7L55msMq_k58d31Bta2MWCd2lmzlWEahRmEomMDn2rbaWkKYehoT/s1548/Gulfport+dolphin+eco+tour.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">2. Next we drove to <b>Birmingham, Alabama.</b> Our Airbnb apartment was tucked in a neighborhood that reminded us of the <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/10/two-months-in-california.html" target="_blank">Berkeley </a>hills.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAPiN6QLMmNNpqIIwnWZdCt79PCIyvTnZyNjjD8cGjkcuts_Y-qy0iGXPnyd39j3tzj9qkcA_jd9mrmIg_txr5ROt2Qhs4ZY56ujVHa_rHRwRY6ThMutyTlxtD9wEXEMGdLiQWa0H2XFb/w400-h300/Birminghma+church+4+girls+killed+1963.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">16th Street Baptist Church</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAPiN6QLMmNNpqIIwnWZdCt79PCIyvTnZyNjjD8cGjkcuts_Y-qy0iGXPnyd39j3tzj9qkcA_jd9mrmIg_txr5ROt2Qhs4ZY56ujVHa_rHRwRY6ThMutyTlxtD9wEXEMGdLiQWa0H2XFb/s1944/Birminghma+church+4+girls+killed+1963.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">We had only one day to spend in Birmingham, and we made it all about the history. The Civil Rights Institute is an immersive experience that makes you feel like you're walking through time, experiencing the human suffering, the resistance, the redemption. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7xO7Tg1IWVKSN45wjucVz1nRdkk6ddm7dWyTRteAiC_4MNwPaJv3LbJ3O6z4ILiprYKs_01D4TRO5x3GL63mv1CzKof3vM_cnum68GwfrbSZd8pfvTYtmMsUp0-idS5uiiyDI06tkNW1j/s534/civil+rights.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="534" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7xO7Tg1IWVKSN45wjucVz1nRdkk6ddm7dWyTRteAiC_4MNwPaJv3LbJ3O6z4ILiprYKs_01D4TRO5x3GL63mv1CzKof3vM_cnum68GwfrbSZd8pfvTYtmMsUp0-idS5uiiyDI06tkNW1j/w400-h281/civil+rights.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Birds carrying her away...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">The museum sits catty-corner from the 16th Street Baptist Church, which the Klan bombed in 1963, killing four girls, ages 11-14. A heart-rending sculpture called "Four Spirits" honors the girls at nearby West Park. As we walked through the park, we took in other sculptures and monuments in this place deep with history that resonates to this day.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">3. Next we drove to <b>Knoxville, Tennessee</b> for one specific reason: to see our niece, Hailey, who is a nursing student at UT.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtaVjQ5JehrKrLpTeGaNyZEBdl_QKG59RudJmB9Iw1lv6gSNRtiN-MY3KCgAS97MCnh3yLFSPkqdsOOoItbsq-1M5F4Kj4CNwrm13odEdKwY6WBngqijKMGqEmDPUyG-nHoaiaOqQIYXle/s1944/Knoxville+100+year+old+Ayers+hall.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtaVjQ5JehrKrLpTeGaNyZEBdl_QKG59RudJmB9Iw1lv6gSNRtiN-MY3KCgAS97MCnh3yLFSPkqdsOOoItbsq-1M5F4Kj4CNwrm13odEdKwY6WBngqijKMGqEmDPUyG-nHoaiaOqQIYXle/w400-h300/Knoxville+100+year+old+Ayers+hall.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">100-year-old Ayers Hall</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>We arrived at yet another Airbnb apartment, on the fourth floor of a building near campus. It was compact but had everything we needed. (Except, like some places we've stayed, the couch was like sitting in a hard taco. When we get back to <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2018/08/wide-sky.html" target="_blank">Mexico </a>I want to buy the most comfy couch I can find!) </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">What a joy to spend the day with Hailey. We checked out her townhouse and met one of her roommates. Then we went out to lunch and she took us on a tour of the charming town and gorgeous campus. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaLXhyphenhyphenqetsBeVOyjgR6JR_Aj8Gaes4kPfeM3u8thoc_j5hTzXNeZ8TpYBnSpSYa7iOJbiAfunUa_35ZH67bLAir3vXycGkwHD1pcNOI89_iN4189ydmVb-NfssgV0y02SSg5oXKuXKYr7e/s960/dave+and+dolly.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="738" data-original-width="960" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaLXhyphenhyphenqetsBeVOyjgR6JR_Aj8Gaes4kPfeM3u8thoc_j5hTzXNeZ8TpYBnSpSYa7iOJbiAfunUa_35ZH67bLAir3vXycGkwHD1pcNOI89_iN4189ydmVb-NfssgV0y02SSg5oXKuXKYr7e/w400-h308/dave+and+dolly.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Dave, Hailey & Dolly</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">I couldn't be more proud of Hailey. She's a great student in a challenging major, works at the hospital, does kickboxing, engages with her sorority's activities including volunteering--and she knows what she wants in life! </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I wish I'd had my head on so straight at that age.</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHI2N6MSQzfxdcAtQJc5oCCAaHRPy-WO7la78lW_PnbmyveAxrfHQpjLwQQLwtFwmufSb_N1m7gYadeH0xerihvjIYV4adVuHZSjC2c289c9x1Ig64813YOCTw7dPQUauYAdog-WuxPquA/s722/Knoxville+Hailey.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="508" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHI2N6MSQzfxdcAtQJc5oCCAaHRPy-WO7la78lW_PnbmyveAxrfHQpjLwQQLwtFwmufSb_N1m7gYadeH0xerihvjIYV4adVuHZSjC2c289c9x1Ig64813YOCTw7dPQUauYAdog-WuxPquA/w281-h400/Knoxville+Hailey.jpg" width="281" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">hat capers</span></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">4. Next up was <b>Chattanooga, Tennessee</b> where we had a weekend housesit, caring for super sweet Sasha. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg09Ec93ZkS31ABUKJGKAN1QGntMgWOsqz7KwdBpNvCOmt6oOA46jv4UlWiX87g0JtWOycZVDMnAYwLzb5m8XzgCnQ9in_fUWQmJUcROq2rb8QN03HQ9nmUI8SeoG2RnIQyR1YrGpYKoxR0/s1733/Chattanooga+Sasha.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1156" data-original-width="1733" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg09Ec93ZkS31ABUKJGKAN1QGntMgWOsqz7KwdBpNvCOmt6oOA46jv4UlWiX87g0JtWOycZVDMnAYwLzb5m8XzgCnQ9in_fUWQmJUcROq2rb8QN03HQ9nmUI8SeoG2RnIQyR1YrGpYKoxR0/w400-h266/Chattanooga+Sasha.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">good girl</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">The apartment was in an elegant vintage building in a historic neighborhood of grand old homes. Walking the streets, we encountered historical plaques describing battles that took place there. I found that a bit strange, rather long narratives recounting the details of x platoon and y general and z reconnaissance. I'm much more interested in historical people's stories than the technical details of the war machine. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDn5uM8btHtkRNyGZT-SpvT_p2K3Fti56e1dU4mvgvS8e0M4xv9vTPzg-b1ElDiia29xRPFI8RxXWPMmDZ5ul6H64rR24c578NFsMGtG4qxQOSDsXwYOGIW5lMFb53qKmpNvt01_233dzs/s1944/Chattanooga+house.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDn5uM8btHtkRNyGZT-SpvT_p2K3Fti56e1dU4mvgvS8e0M4xv9vTPzg-b1ElDiia29xRPFI8RxXWPMmDZ5ul6H64rR24c578NFsMGtG4qxQOSDsXwYOGIW5lMFb53qKmpNvt01_233dzs/w400-h300/Chattanooga+house.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">comfy bed...but the couch wasn't</span><br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Another battle site is Lookout Mountain. I skimmed over the information of yet more warring and enjoyed the place as a walk in nature.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNGbTBEyZ2ce_pae9SZdQzTd5nXjT5OmNq3TxT6vT-6PLcKWfRKze9UcV4HuGwe2JdYmJdY3w0l-KCGNvolzAarkeso82xjxvXqdkHJYOvpj_IqHvEYHYn259sgjoJCHZaoacoeppyi-6u/s1944/Chattanooga+dave+and+me+Lookout+Mountain.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNGbTBEyZ2ce_pae9SZdQzTd5nXjT5OmNq3TxT6vT-6PLcKWfRKze9UcV4HuGwe2JdYmJdY3w0l-KCGNvolzAarkeso82xjxvXqdkHJYOvpj_IqHvEYHYn259sgjoJCHZaoacoeppyi-6u/w400-h300/Chattanooga+dave+and+me+Lookout+Mountain.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Lookout Mountain</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We also spent time walking around downtown Chattanooga. It's a lovely city, with its stunning art museum building, its sculpture garden, and the impressive Walnut Street bridge, built in 1891, that spans the Tennessee River. The bridge used to allow horses and buggies, but now it's pedestrians only.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_HcsIj39TApsDCTXlu6XOXw4ZPn60o-2vTWGyZ2IIfv_qkMv3-2lg7DsV2Oi5dZnMhkcQW_o9FpC7RU2I8v1k_RQOaCnk9KJEwBnz_UNMtYuNbPvkMk2jJ3G-6s1XeB7xAOOBL0y2gZ6/s1944/Chattanooga+Walnut+Street+pedestrian+bridge+built+1890.jpg" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3_HcsIj39TApsDCTXlu6XOXw4ZPn60o-2vTWGyZ2IIfv_qkMv3-2lg7DsV2Oi5dZnMhkcQW_o9FpC7RU2I8v1k_RQOaCnk9KJEwBnz_UNMtYuNbPvkMk2jJ3G-6s1XeB7xAOOBL0y2gZ6/w400-h300/Chattanooga+Walnut+Street+pedestrian+bridge+built+1890.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Our last morning there, I woke up with itchy eyes swollen so badly I could hardly see. I'd inadvertently used apparently toxic shampoo as "soap" to wash my face. We usually share the driving, but Dave would have to take the wheel for our drive to...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">5. <b>Paducah, Kentucky.</b> The Airbnb prices in this area were so high that we chose a hotel room instead. I've resisted hotels because I want a homier feel...but the American Inn turned out great. It had two comfy queen beds (we like to have a second bed to put our luggage on) and the usual amenities that were plenty for one night. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8j6U76LwldGhOKULak6tfHDkPtXLlD4kJYOeHfYBFCBhIaJCn_xQIDA8cfY8XNBsDO8423BenVfqP2Ib0YrdSC44ejDGY17j0HSARy_CYPrnJazKpV-dNtO6Kx6PMI3gUv_Uh2Ou1JyXA/s1944/Peducah+town.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8j6U76LwldGhOKULak6tfHDkPtXLlD4kJYOeHfYBFCBhIaJCn_xQIDA8cfY8XNBsDO8423BenVfqP2Ib0YrdSC44ejDGY17j0HSARy_CYPrnJazKpV-dNtO6Kx6PMI3gUv_Uh2Ou1JyXA/w400-h300/Peducah+town.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We were taken with with the town's well-maintained historical buildings, clean streets, cute shops, museums, and murals along the ten-mile long floodwall where the Ohio and Tennessee rivers meet. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1UITJUJvk8DmT-afJDbTMa_hGdEJDvnuS0x-wmaCeCGEDonG1vPKQ7KmTixBco7cpA1_ix3GusMOM2G_vaFeE2NQHfegpQiSFxxqYX0uwgPTXUbyXDBHCTqZQUYkkdQibgVVFbkqglqbb/s1733/Peducah+sea+wall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1155" data-original-width="1733" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1UITJUJvk8DmT-afJDbTMa_hGdEJDvnuS0x-wmaCeCGEDonG1vPKQ7KmTixBco7cpA1_ix3GusMOM2G_vaFeE2NQHfegpQiSFxxqYX0uwgPTXUbyXDBHCTqZQUYkkdQibgVVFbkqglqbb/w400-h266/Peducah+sea+wall.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">The paintings display Paducah's historical days.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">One of the images reveals a hidden horror in the town: a Uranium Enrichment Facility that operated from 1952 to 2013 that apparently poisoned many of its workers and contaminated the environment, a problem to this day. (See this <a href="https://scalawagmagazine.org/2019/12/nuclear-waste-paducah-kentucky/?fbclid=IwAR2AwZIpbA-QfnQ3UnhGCsT2HdxjCaOgRKm7kMnaQ-D7qPxEyLzenRIys-c" target="_blank">article </a>and this <a href="https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=peducah+nuclear&docid=608001050970567145&mid=8B429C0D05146506D5A08B429C0D05146506D5A0&view=detail&FORM=VIRE" target="_blank">film</a>.) What a terrible injustice for the residents and the health of this area.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Q4TuN0pSPH9UHB414jVk65BxuNJJB3zpnkMYv_zB67b6TOCrC2fV-BBGuEq_cRd23rkhyn7kz4XZl20SfyLeogdOVBA1N4ovP8vClI92S_ln_WNUATUYZ5kdqVAC0wFXvWMOC62eNxi6/s960/Peducah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Q4TuN0pSPH9UHB414jVk65BxuNJJB3zpnkMYv_zB67b6TOCrC2fV-BBGuEq_cRd23rkhyn7kz4XZl20SfyLeogdOVBA1N4ovP8vClI92S_ln_WNUATUYZ5kdqVAC0wFXvWMOC62eNxi6/w400-h300/Peducah.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">6. In the morning, my eyes were still itchy but much less swollen, so I was able to give Dave a break from driving duties. We crossed a large swath of <b>Illinois </b>into <b>Warrensburg, Missouri</b> where we planned to meet up with Darlena Ciraulo, a Shakespeare scholar and professor at University of Central Missouri. We were early so first we walked around the sweet, small campus.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1295" data-original-width="1943" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju3Zxq-Tf9FWf69polWVUMyxUmul9zcZSlFWf2mTPhcm9G8R8NW68H-YZ1lE22lnUOHfEdXyK2u5iN_Rjud6ntVvGdZwQuLW6PFg2WwMbxWhNykZKFOb3gCqgNB5se0oXwvVV0fPJT_cIc/w400-h266/MO+campus.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxf5R98Vn13JQi_e_QU_eQCU6xQdrR_5L8I9-EVqBNJm4I24JgBW7LZZTOCYJnikwOiS31M-Ig0kcXxjPjjLWxmGqbBu2O-f2Ysm-gQFrUcsSsW1BwrzyihOLzF_JkNXTdI6jBp4hgiHD4/w400-h300/Warrensburg+color.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Colorful fall day on campus</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxf5R98Vn13JQi_e_QU_eQCU6xQdrR_5L8I9-EVqBNJm4I24JgBW7LZZTOCYJnikwOiS31M-Ig0kcXxjPjjLWxmGqbBu2O-f2Ysm-gQFrUcsSsW1BwrzyihOLzF_JkNXTdI6jBp4hgiHD4/s1944/Warrensburg+color.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"></a></span></div></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></div></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">It was great to see Dar (who is the daughter of my co-author Janelle; we wrote <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Revolutionary-Kiss-Mary-Kate-Summers-ebook/dp/B08T6R6RX2/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=revolutionary+kiss&qid=1637269370&sr=8-1" target="_blank">this book</a> together). And the timing was perfect, because she had a one-hour break in her teaching schedule. We learned that as a Covid precaution, large classes are split up into several smaller meetings...which has more than doubled the time she teaches, giving the same lecture over and over. But she had a smile on her face as we chatted about academia and life. The university is lucky to have her.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfp1xVD7v6TSTvYjIKXmUiEyEXSNGiXiVTrQMZ44THcDAFTjsizEuKGB5G8Ioi-0cyFD_XPc2IQC8PGQXLq02yXPv2Wq5FNBftXWxdhQSir6zcsyDB1k6Age7FQtePYDjFw2PDcHm-ZK7w/s1944/MO+with+Dar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfp1xVD7v6TSTvYjIKXmUiEyEXSNGiXiVTrQMZ44THcDAFTjsizEuKGB5G8Ioi-0cyFD_XPc2IQC8PGQXLq02yXPv2Wq5FNBftXWxdhQSir6zcsyDB1k6Age7FQtePYDjFw2PDcHm-ZK7w/w400-h300/MO+with+Dar.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">With Dar</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">A few more hours of driving, and we stopped for lunch in <b>St. Louis </b>at Seedz in the leafy Forest Park neighborhood. I had the best vegan Cesar salad ever. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdRGE6UMxEVota0gFEnelvPuA4ITCOsbMf66Dvhfo6O4Vx0iiHY0AU7BVA4vqtakrC82aoLJgO25ULyKSmWGeTxdZv0AU9RjH-FbkcKeCUV5jqoXJKrOf8K9lIovUqThHaJcrtTGgI1Fre/s1816/St+Louis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="657" data-original-width="1816" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdRGE6UMxEVota0gFEnelvPuA4ITCOsbMf66Dvhfo6O4Vx0iiHY0AU7BVA4vqtakrC82aoLJgO25ULyKSmWGeTxdZv0AU9RjH-FbkcKeCUV5jqoXJKrOf8K9lIovUqThHaJcrtTGgI1Fre/w400-h145/St+Louis.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Dave captured the St. Louis skyline out the car window.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHLj2r20v4xl5rDVd8Q0BMyH47sAX4LPsrAB_8d1UqNFjyPIJadr1xkmWEjnyPw_yz5fVnttb19cPl-9Gia6szqCD1r1Fa7UcScjhKc1VMIKwkY6rSfC1H3A7iOficAAXGSaZDgYnHGmM/w400-h300/St+Louis+SEEDZ.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Outside Seedz</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihHLj2r20v4xl5rDVd8Q0BMyH47sAX4LPsrAB_8d1UqNFjyPIJadr1xkmWEjnyPw_yz5fVnttb19cPl-9Gia6szqCD1r1Fa7UcScjhKc1VMIKwkY6rSfC1H3A7iOficAAXGSaZDgYnHGmM/s1440/St+Louis+SEEDZ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">A few hours more, and we made it to our <b>Boonville, Missouri </b>Airbnb. The place didn't live up to its cute listing. It was a basement apartment that felt very...basementy. (Cold, dark, damp.) The space heater didn't do enough to combat the chill, and fuses blew a few times. Fortunately, the owner was there and tripped the switch, but for $74 we could have gotten a good hotel room. (Check out <a href="https://brentandmichaelaregoingplaces.substack.com/p/what-the-hell-is-going-on-with-the" target="_blank">this article</a> about why Airbnb prices are going up.)</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">7. </span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> Another five-hour driving day lay ahead to get to <b>Hays, Kansas</b>. Many people had mentioned that driving through Kansas was boring, but I didn't mind the green-and-gold landscape. And we broke up the trip with a stop in <b>Kansas City</b> for lunch at Cafe Gratitude. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihdUg_CWleXDOfNTsXBA3Aq1JSMohfGmOgxbye0V5ZAuxsQxHYaqNDZqCSIWCcAXXUwPAO9ZZ4IJ5SKiDu25K8f_KyRFFSUvpvAEEJH8r2e2LEs66TQ1_r3is2pkWeC4mvLoDKIuLbxn5t/s1944/Kansas+City+Cafe+Gratitude+with+Cathy+Zoom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihdUg_CWleXDOfNTsXBA3Aq1JSMohfGmOgxbye0V5ZAuxsQxHYaqNDZqCSIWCcAXXUwPAO9ZZ4IJ5SKiDu25K8f_KyRFFSUvpvAEEJH8r2e2LEs66TQ1_r3is2pkWeC4mvLoDKIuLbxn5t/w400-h300/Kansas+City+Cafe+Gratitude+with+Cathy+Zoom.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Food was good but a bit too pricey.</span></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">This happened to be a Wednesday, the day I Zoom with three of my girlfriends (and former colleagues) every-other-week. You can see my friend Cathy from the UK on my phone, but I swear I went outside for the conversation!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">We had another good hotel experience at the Days Inn in Hays. Great price, comfy bed to lay down our road-weary heads. Oh, and a TV to watch <i>The Voice</i>.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">What a joy to wake up the next morning realizing we had only one more five-hour segment to get to our next destination: Denver. We've now been in Colorado a couple of weeks, and I'll tell you all about it in my next installment. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Car tripping isn't for everyone--and as I said in a <a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/10/drivin-to-new-orleans.html" target="_blank">previous post</a>, we're in the middle of a road adventure that started in <a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/10/two-months-in-california.html" target="_blank">California </a>and, in the spring, will end in <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=baja" target="_blank">Baja Sur, Mexico</a>. It's likely our last big long-distance drive. Yet w</span><span style="font-family: verdana;">riting has made me appreciate how much of this vast and complex and beautiful country we've seen.</span></span></div>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-4539093655706752542021-11-13T07:31:00.017-08:002021-11-13T12:53:19.974-08:00New Orleans Fun for the Graying Nomads<span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBXg1VUgfm3d8dgD8c0pfEb8WuKIQTajxBbENal9ffgoojTaStDlw_UrSFB8vFT8gRmlQWjU9vxULz4Gt8q0qrEfgkf8rvKENsJgwFbDDtLwdVjyR_zJQvJ2gRUOr_ziCjZl0MduNwZz0/s1944/NOLA+shotgun+house.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBXg1VUgfm3d8dgD8c0pfEb8WuKIQTajxBbENal9ffgoojTaStDlw_UrSFB8vFT8gRmlQWjU9vxULz4Gt8q0qrEfgkf8rvKENsJgwFbDDtLwdVjyR_zJQvJ2gRUOr_ziCjZl0MduNwZz0/w400-h300/NOLA+shotgun+house.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: medium;">Our home for 3 weeks</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Dave's mouth was hurting. There we were, <a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/10/drivin-to-new-orleans.html" target="_blank">on the road headed to New Orleans</a>, and the pain was getting worse. As he drove, I searched Yelp on my phone for a highly rated dentist. It was Thursday. We would arrive for a three-week housesit in NOLA the next day. I got him an appointment for Monday. Such a relief. But I wondered if he'd need to see an emergency dentist over the weekend. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">When we arrived, Judy, the homeowner, greeted our road-weary selves and plopped us in the sweet little guest house behind her beautiful shotgun home. The house is in Gentilly, a lively district with friendly neighbors and music drifting over at night from a band jamming in their yard. Judy had stocked the room with treats for us: crackers, hummus, a bottle of champagne. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We spent the evening together, learning the routines for the adorable Bichons Billy and Trixie. And we prompted Judy to tell us stories about living in this vibrant city. For many years she worked at the radio station, and she knows many local musicians.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuzy_cFipCeUvZRkifkH_qpKpUp5DqWqhXzNy1QGiU-etnEvwKhfQKJqG0N4WytBJlXRCr6QsXN-6qUusvIpnV4iMPL_OQjJLMRfM_x6oaywaR_CPF48Bgrde_aSkTVoS81u90Hz4q_AfE/s1693/NOLA+trixie+and+billie.jpg" style="font-family: verdana; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1129" data-original-width="1693" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuzy_cFipCeUvZRkifkH_qpKpUp5DqWqhXzNy1QGiU-etnEvwKhfQKJqG0N4WytBJlXRCr6QsXN-6qUusvIpnV4iMPL_OQjJLMRfM_x6oaywaR_CPF48Bgrde_aSkTVoS81u90Hz4q_AfE/w400-h266/NOLA+trixie+and+billie.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>cuties</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Dave drove Judy to the airport the next day, and we moved from the guest house into the main house. Setting up--finding places to put our clothes, toothbrushes, books and the ukulele--then shopping for food and putting it all away is what finally allows us to relax and settle into a new home. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Poor Dave did all of this with a pulsating face that was swelling up before our eyes. It was agony. Finally Monday came. It would be the first of five trips to the dentist to take care of a cracked tooth and get a root canal. The dentist lived up to his Yelp review.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">When the day finally came that Dave could eat more than soft foods (yay!), we went to <a href="https://www.sweetvegansoulfood.com/" target="_blank">Sweet Soulfood</a> and got this vegan deliciousness:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkQBBE_PuP11xiu1Xkopp4v4VEz5BqypN4fqYAsGzaWJpYA5xCZsc36Ow1buvKtmihJCIB44PjZGJ0MKjai3NTgnvbImgZCQ8cQNa89MfXLJEKB1pqNv9R_YvtWrEtdg2q63Iknqqz4IK4/s1440/NOLA+vegan+soulfood+at+Sweet+Soulfood.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkQBBE_PuP11xiu1Xkopp4v4VEz5BqypN4fqYAsGzaWJpYA5xCZsc36Ow1buvKtmihJCIB44PjZGJ0MKjai3NTgnvbImgZCQ8cQNa89MfXLJEKB1pqNv9R_YvtWrEtdg2q63Iknqqz4IK4/w400-h300/NOLA+vegan+soulfood+at+Sweet+Soulfood.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>jambalaya, mac n cheese, fried cauliflower, collards and cornbread</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We were pleased to discover a lot of vegan options throughout NOLA, including a vegan bakery. And it was good to see that all the restaurants (and most of the music venues) required masks and proof of vaccine. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcK7BEy707jiFSLH4B1NmWy2aAAWBNnhHYAT1K6dFohk35S5jjn4ddlpKOTvdDrIWTs2XsWN_f99s0J9ZGpvixagLYPKFVQFG4_D-RqXxOxYyH-k2MAbdNlkTHR1hYjsUN2FUHr064yi7e/s1743/NOLA+Kermit+Ruffins+and+the+BBQ+swingers.jpg" style="font-family: verdana; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1162" data-original-width="1743" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcK7BEy707jiFSLH4B1NmWy2aAAWBNnhHYAT1K6dFohk35S5jjn4ddlpKOTvdDrIWTs2XsWN_f99s0J9ZGpvixagLYPKFVQFG4_D-RqXxOxYyH-k2MAbdNlkTHR1hYjsUN2FUHr064yi7e/w400-h266/NOLA+Kermit+Ruffins+and+the+BBQ+swingers.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Kermit on trumpet</i><br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Our first music event was at <a href="https://www.kermitslounge.com/" target="_blank">Kermit Treme's Mother in Law Lounge</a>. To get there, we drove past a massive party beneath a freeway overpass, where thousands of people gathered for BBQ to the sound of blasting boomboxes and revving cars. Kermit's place is quintessential New Orleans, a small bar with low ceilings, an intimate stage, and a sprawling back patio with another stage and an offering of BBQ. Kermit Ruffins is a mainstay of the town, a true entertainer.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUe3P8yaTID09S8bpcyIruzTD_lfXDlKnt646sx_16buieAo99Sz04Jn0N3IMQuUnpLihdUpkM19kosCbVt7UNAEuBeb47wn6repVlqVASyDLE7VBXbT9Ji0z_CXg3NwoElLXCU5ia0KK4/s1944/NOLA+Kermit+outdoors.jpg" style="font-family: verdana; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUe3P8yaTID09S8bpcyIruzTD_lfXDlKnt646sx_16buieAo99Sz04Jn0N3IMQuUnpLihdUpkM19kosCbVt7UNAEuBeb47wn6repVlqVASyDLE7VBXbT9Ji0z_CXg3NwoElLXCU5ia0KK4/w400-h300/NOLA+Kermit+outdoors.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>With Jonesy and Candis on the patio</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">There we met up with our friend Candis and her guy Jonesy. Dave has known Candis for years, and we've rocked out at many music events. <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=candis" target="_blank">We've also hung out with</a> her in Hawaii and Tahoe, and she once guided us on a raft trip down the American River. Turns out that Jonesy is great friends with our neighbors in Baja! He immediately felt like our buddy, too.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Even though <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2015/05/jazz-fest.html" target="_blank">Jazz Fest</a> was cancelled, The Radiators kept their show dates, which meant getting to see Dave's all-time favorite band with his tribe.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6mL56z8C8QmsjMOKZc6bj8-_Z2n4cg5CPtVaKRQDRb3XFhPzDB6m7powSQ-S0TtPcU82U206we6YprhAYzFOYymLcflB7el7pIvPbAH9WXkcigs5iTRDlhjocQxCl4sDT8iT7f7hFyQg6/s960/NOLA+Jude.jpg" style="font-family: verdana; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6mL56z8C8QmsjMOKZc6bj8-_Z2n4cg5CPtVaKRQDRb3XFhPzDB6m7powSQ-S0TtPcU82U206we6YprhAYzFOYymLcflB7el7pIvPbAH9WXkcigs5iTRDlhjocQxCl4sDT8iT7f7hFyQg6/w400-h300/NOLA+Jude.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>So happy to boogie with Jude at the Rads show!</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">One afternoon we went to the Broadside to see Anders Osborne, our favorite singer-songwriter. The place had the vibe of the fair, with food, families, dogs, and dancing. I love outdoor music...and music that ends in time for me to get to bed early!</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie9tuw8XW7q94nsOMkpTrAu7pSdtxxW3rPspysyNlaGg3xHc6vW6K_54fc041t8lSDLuBOOuEQ-jBCuSj_MqotkCvq_CPH0HoXe6UQIJV5gcwFTn21tJr4LkzE_eOJJj2E87nrq5HLdM5o/w400-h300/NOLA+me.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Outdoor, daytime music is the best!</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie9tuw8XW7q94nsOMkpTrAu7pSdtxxW3rPspysyNlaGg3xHc6vW6K_54fc041t8lSDLuBOOuEQ-jBCuSj_MqotkCvq_CPH0HoXe6UQIJV5gcwFTn21tJr4LkzE_eOJJj2E87nrq5HLdM5o/s1944/NOLA+me.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"></span></i></a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We'd hoped to take the ferry to Algiers, but it wasn't running. Still, we saw a lot of the city driving around...and walking through the French Quarter. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1038" data-original-width="1556" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphen7axx-CMDG4odoN7kSPwe81j-poZhrMEIFPNNeJ4u2ODtln5JIf3UiUeU5nuJCNLFuz9WEkyDUBPE1Cu43c-aKgOMG_qweQDFDZq8WdL7xpk14q8wNGJycJBMdY4d9u_HVaUR9XUzFFE/w400-h266/NOLA+halloween+FQ.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>NOLA Halloween wackiness</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphen7axx-CMDG4odoN7kSPwe81j-poZhrMEIFPNNeJ4u2ODtln5JIf3UiUeU5nuJCNLFuz9WEkyDUBPE1Cu43c-aKgOMG_qweQDFDZq8WdL7xpk14q8wNGJycJBMdY4d9u_HVaUR9XUzFFE/s1556/NOLA+halloween+FQ.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1G9DByQ7Y3cwuSEvpeiXcB6lvI7JBnlF2JzO_1plpVh93gH1TxwTZrai_8KmxhIV_Zedf0Uxrr_9q3gNK8b_JyusKhYU0lLOl5-vrWw9pZzxpmoyQE1HjXWj_d0KunrZXXUONH47O3lMj/s1923/NOLA+French+quarter.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1282" data-original-width="1923" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1G9DByQ7Y3cwuSEvpeiXcB6lvI7JBnlF2JzO_1plpVh93gH1TxwTZrai_8KmxhIV_Zedf0Uxrr_9q3gNK8b_JyusKhYU0lLOl5-vrWw9pZzxpmoyQE1HjXWj_d0KunrZXXUONH47O3lMj/w400-h266/NOLA+French+quarter.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>A classic</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">I had two wonderful literary experiences. One day, we were exploring the French Market, and amidst the vendors selling voodoo dolls and Mardi Gras beads I saw a guy sitting at a table surrounded by books. Ah, one of my peeps. He told me his novel, <i><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25771128-hood-struggle" target="_blank">Hood Struggle</a></i>, is a gritty account of his young life in Baton Rouge. His goal is to publish "raw and uncut literature." I've since read his book, and it lives up to that description. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD18-o-MKhn_CjRDkGhsvcjLawt0QzhEyp3UX4EoOCl6A252Arraz9Lj7S1tXvqcIYnzNNTuPb1fXfA68icCLWsv1u6tXwceYpIlXzSjllfYVOpipPH-3jekMu6z1OVY657XbCguQTugeg/s1440/NOLA+Kevin+Guillards+book.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD18-o-MKhn_CjRDkGhsvcjLawt0QzhEyp3UX4EoOCl6A252Arraz9Lj7S1tXvqcIYnzNNTuPb1fXfA68icCLWsv1u6tXwceYpIlXzSjllfYVOpipPH-3jekMu6z1OVY657XbCguQTugeg/w400-h300/NOLA+Kevin+Guillards+book.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>the writers</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">One day I met up with Lynn, another friend who was in town, and we enjoyed a walk around Royal Street, with its charming storefronts, galleries and shops. Later, I popped into <a href="https://www.facebook.com/BeckhamsBookshop/" target="_blank">Beckham's Bookshop</a>, my favorite kind of used bookstore that feels like you're walking back in time, with hordes of dusty books jammed on floor-to-ceiling shelves, the overflow stacked in slanting piles.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-V_T5TVxJVbG9VnKfWhm5ZWa2jDZ700oCMINVMHTcGrWjrKEAilKYIU1_tVQjy19B-xXrxitNQtksKF2r1oHXwQMclPc9lsTeyzDR-9ZNB9xhVaDnDrRKsvd9JqxHUpgGqu7goFWX-_FH/w400-h300/NOLA+Beckhamsbooks.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-V_T5TVxJVbG9VnKfWhm5ZWa2jDZ700oCMINVMHTcGrWjrKEAilKYIU1_tVQjy19B-xXrxitNQtksKF2r1oHXwQMclPc9lsTeyzDR-9ZNB9xhVaDnDrRKsvd9JqxHUpgGqu7goFWX-_FH/s960/NOLA+Beckhamsbooks.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><i style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18114067-queen-sugar?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=yiOUlIvxTB&rank=1" target="_blank">Queen Sugar</a></i><span style="font-family: verdana;">, a novel that's been on my radar for years, caught my eye. It takes place in Louisiana, so it felt meant to be in my hands. Sitting in Cafe Du Monde, I opened the book to see two of my friends mentioned in the Acknowledgements. I love those moments where time and space collide.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="741" data-original-width="960" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5S_cjOJxtnHXg0-IrE-XhW2-NmM5z1K4UxlQjYR1ZKmyoA3t4SE_qDyCRVc7vv57kV79id8s7bp04CMtryoDKs4IaS-Hl-TbMk_0a-Et1-gpo49Vf0JgiDE-RADTtOkmRRfKIojJbIlvE/w400-h309/NOLA+friends+in+book.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Read </i>Queen Sugar<i>; it's a phenomenal novel</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">When we made plans to come to NOLA, we thought we'd be attending French Quarter Fest and Jazz Fest, filling our hours and days with tons of live music and huge groups of friends. But both fests were cancelled. And honestly, it was nice to explore the city in a low-key way. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We also spent time at home. We may be nomads, but we're also kind of homebodies. Perhaps we just need more down time as we get older. And when we housesit, we enjoy being with the animals, in this case, Billy and Trixie. They are also aging, to the point that they need to be lifted up and </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">down the stairs. As I helped them, I thought about how one day someone might need to do so for me. I hope they'll do it with the same tenderness.</span></span></div><div><div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div></div></div>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-57037095308134010282021-10-11T09:43:00.000-07:002021-10-11T09:43:10.811-07:00Drivin' to New Orleans<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuuvi0Z8eNsEc-NiOui3NU4_w6BQfP7sNUswBGZ0lYFMjTUNQBWOE3kcFxAji3an8PdcKuD_YFwztuJJTqbsqMW3UdWlJzW3NdMHLjf3HwVotaP6vydQ1bmdJh3_BE3XQi5tjgOuMsfQmn/s1440/bluetoenails1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1082" data-original-width="1440" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuuvi0Z8eNsEc-NiOui3NU4_w6BQfP7sNUswBGZ0lYFMjTUNQBWOE3kcFxAji3an8PdcKuD_YFwztuJJTqbsqMW3UdWlJzW3NdMHLjf3HwVotaP6vydQ1bmdJh3_BE3XQi5tjgOuMsfQmn/w400-h300/bluetoenails1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">I have always loved a car trip. My signature Facebook shot when we're on the road features my blue toenails propped on the dash.</span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">But I think my days of romanticizing the <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48859/song-of-the-open-road" target="_blank">open road</a> are over. Our recent drive across the states was filled with incredible experiences. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">But you know what? </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We're tired! </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Our shift from slow travel to speedy travel has been a reminder of why we prefer being slow-mads.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">In three months we've driven about 2,000 miles and slept in 13 <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2015/10/a-hundred-beds.html" target="_blank">beds</a>:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><i>5 housesits (60 nights) -- 66%</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><i>3 stays with friends (21 nights) -- 23%</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><i>5 Airbnbs (9 nights) -- 11%</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We're now in NOLA for three weeks and then...we face the road again. By the time we finally get back to <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=baja" target="_blank">our casita in Mexico</a> next spring (gulp), we are pretty sure that will be the end of <i>long </i>road trips for us.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">BUT...we've experienced many incredible things on this journey. I already wrote about our time in <a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/10/two-months-in-california.html" target="_blank">California</a>. Here's what came next:</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b>Vegas</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We drove from L.A. to Pahrump, Nevada--just because it's fun to say pah-RUMP. Actually, there were two more reasons: It's close to Death Valley and Vegas, places we wanted to visit. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">On our way to Vegas, we stopped at Red Rock National Conservation Area. While the rest of the tourists were crowded into the same few spots, we found a trail with magnificent views that we had to ourselves.</span></p><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Ox0POr2VeT_MhxKcXVwG4L32jcJ26tLjOQ2CdnVM3XXIk9Aw5nRhAPXuBK7ybOF8bcK21tNWRiJgZkFE4NJconY2W1WQX3AOAowhsLLvDDTjH9mzCeNR-Ty9mRIevIUbEuA6ufKloLxe/s1725/Red+Rock+canyon+National+Conservation+Area+near+LV.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1150" data-original-width="1725" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Ox0POr2VeT_MhxKcXVwG4L32jcJ26tLjOQ2CdnVM3XXIk9Aw5nRhAPXuBK7ybOF8bcK21tNWRiJgZkFE4NJconY2W1WQX3AOAowhsLLvDDTjH9mzCeNR-Ty9mRIevIUbEuA6ufKloLxe/w400-h266/Red+Rock+canyon+National+Conservation+Area+near+LV.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Rock National Conservation Area</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">I hadn't been to Vegas since 1989, and while it's changed a lot, it has the same feeling: cheesy extravagance on the Strip trying to lure you inside to spend money. Dave's not a gambler, and it's not fun to give in to your fixation on slot machines when your husband is pacing the floor, so fortunately, we didn't dump much money into the gambling industrial complex. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRlI8YPw2rnPz5hVhGScNIawgRH_FKAGAPcXkD0MbHkByX8U3UxbZfItErSHXe29pM-oZa0AOZm8gNARPi6qoACEHsQ3xb2zUDTsSWL58M5t_LOZTW6YYDVXj68dCCzSqh_X1PYStdNGXp/s1944/fountains+at+Bellagio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRlI8YPw2rnPz5hVhGScNIawgRH_FKAGAPcXkD0MbHkByX8U3UxbZfItErSHXe29pM-oZa0AOZm8gNARPi6qoACEHsQ3xb2zUDTsSWL58M5t_LOZTW6YYDVXj68dCCzSqh_X1PYStdNGXp/w400-h300/fountains+at+Bellagio.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One...singular sensation...</td></tr></tbody></table></span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">We did enjoy checking out the Bellagio's fountain that danced to "One" from A Chorus Line, the streams of water reminiscent of chorus girls' legs. Inside the Bellagio, we gazed at the spectacular Chihuly glass ceiling and walked through the Disney-esque Harvest Garden display. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Rd6QvXr_jhlE538mCwGJrvZbL2hqieIa1GCrHpBt4jLwwoeOVmsI-j91WuKjDyi4Zz9qHuz-Vy-Aa9nKXnofNAmv4dmlqru9jmba1iSMmnDmyM_fOb2IyJ_l74IV1ZIcWb5C0mASQkk5/s1944/Chihuly+galss+at+Bellagio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Rd6QvXr_jhlE538mCwGJrvZbL2hqieIa1GCrHpBt4jLwwoeOVmsI-j91WuKjDyi4Zz9qHuz-Vy-Aa9nKXnofNAmv4dmlqru9jmba1iSMmnDmyM_fOb2IyJ_l74IV1ZIcWb5C0mASQkk5/w400-h300/Chihuly+galss+at+Bellagio.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chihuly magic ceiling: It was vast.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHsWoHQrpvrF57l5qkkUmsDvhLrYPN4pXi-hNn6plyxL4n5EKlEzmDk6frTc52m8xiwhZ1F00fUh5is2m0u5Kf1sg5Ss6Ia1l6esvpq0HrtA0ZVRf86QrAOFGCfyXELmbKj51HJaz2upYo/s2032/harvest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1626" data-original-width="2032" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHsWoHQrpvrF57l5qkkUmsDvhLrYPN4pXi-hNn6plyxL4n5EKlEzmDk6frTc52m8xiwhZ1F00fUh5is2m0u5Kf1sg5Ss6Ia1l6esvpq0HrtA0ZVRf86QrAOFGCfyXELmbKj51HJaz2upYo/w400-h320/harvest.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every 3 months the display changes to reflect the seasons.</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We didn't go to a show or eat at one of the extravagant restaurants. Instead, we wandered through three casinos and ate at <a href="https://vegenationlv.com/" target="_blank">VegeNation</a>. I guess we're just not Vegas people. Still, </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">I'd call the day fun. But if I don't go back for another 32 years, that's okay.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Death Valley</span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">We woke early the next morning to drive an hour to Death Valley, where we watch the sunrise paint dramatic colors on the landscape.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1SEywDw_xccSS2vOalzZsLbL-3fkOObXJvlhyphenhyphenjOcWCt2RhH_ksO8WiNZC1wj5Z2ox4mpxCGWLiYf1kcbfu2GdXjOHr8HrQSHcOp4_puyKwjTQORafmcRCbNU07JNYd-wQd8Nkm0P1IGhi/s1723/Sunrise+at+Zabriskie+point+DV.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1149" data-original-width="1723" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1SEywDw_xccSS2vOalzZsLbL-3fkOObXJvlhyphenhyphenjOcWCt2RhH_ksO8WiNZC1wj5Z2ox4mpxCGWLiYf1kcbfu2GdXjOHr8HrQSHcOp4_puyKwjTQORafmcRCbNU07JNYd-wQd8Nkm0P1IGhi/w400-h266/Sunrise+at+Zabriskie+point+DV.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zabriskie Point</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">Then we took a hike through Golden Canyon to Red Cathedral. Doing it in the morning was perfect: most of the way we were in the shade, and we beat the heat. The picture doesn't quite capture the gold and red, but they were brilliant.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr1GNrYwKJtfgEHSjhFksQLh02emLw7KoomcjcFmtuaJN5GYB419A6tpZIS4LAWg01_nQeIcZaScy5MASef4W7Du3mWie8A-tdk-1_GxQVQAF3E77r5job-4dhIff0Q80_EjIwkit7ytkX/s960/GOlden+Canyonn+DV+hike+toward+red+cathedral.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr1GNrYwKJtfgEHSjhFksQLh02emLw7KoomcjcFmtuaJN5GYB419A6tpZIS4LAWg01_nQeIcZaScy5MASef4W7Du3mWie8A-tdk-1_GxQVQAF3E77r5job-4dhIff0Q80_EjIwkit7ytkX/w400-h300/GOlden+Canyonn+DV+hike+toward+red+cathedral.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking to the Red Cathedral</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b>Arizona</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">On the drive from Nevada to Arizona, we stopped at Hoover Dam. It's more striking than I'd imagined, definitely worth seeing.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMc_hhJv6xacoYO_e_QnFSLJrFnvMCd_L78gGLg9kfV8F46WDMw3nXwKzXmtI3WrSBcurDVSxj3dIsedJtJ24v1SgqLJh6SAoF2eDprPwX_o8Aa-1p0L1rRqk9VF1IKmT6GA4cmncUbOVG/s1944/Hoover+dam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMc_hhJv6xacoYO_e_QnFSLJrFnvMCd_L78gGLg9kfV8F46WDMw3nXwKzXmtI3WrSBcurDVSxj3dIsedJtJ24v1SgqLJh6SAoF2eDprPwX_o8Aa-1p0L1rRqk9VF1IKmT6GA4cmncUbOVG/w400-h300/Hoover+dam.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The water level was quite low.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">The next morning, we woke early in our comfy Airbnb in Williams, Arizona and drove an hour to the south rim of the Grand Canyon. We <a href="https://bikegrandcanyon.com/bike-rentals/" target="_blank">rented </a>power-assist bikes (e-bikes that require pedaling but give you a boost on hills)--and because we had made reservations we didn't have to wait long in line.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdhXKewJy6ZtWXfdkenQR4jKqyc1jZEgNsla8uwUchAk-ZpFB5kq8oxA4sYJaPd5xPvRgZD6Bjlq52ZKWObPL_Y0swAj1poimaOoSpPk6yXTIz9luY-SI7uzS4vudwyfOUkmepv1woiiHk/s1440/GC+DAVE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1051" data-original-width="1440" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdhXKewJy6ZtWXfdkenQR4jKqyc1jZEgNsla8uwUchAk-ZpFB5kq8oxA4sYJaPd5xPvRgZD6Bjlq52ZKWObPL_Y0swAj1poimaOoSpPk6yXTIz9luY-SI7uzS4vudwyfOUkmepv1woiiHk/w400-h293/GC+DAVE.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dave loved it too.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">I've been fortunate to do many amazing things in my life--and riding a bike around the rim of the Grand Canyon was one of the most spectacular. It was...soul-stirring to feel the sun and air on my body, smell the trees and fragrant vegetation, and see that primordial canyon spread out before me. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Part of the ride is on paths, and part on the road, but the only vehicles are tourist shuttles. Those shuttles drop </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">off</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">passengers in designated spots. But because we had bikes, we could stop in places where we had the stunning view all to ourselves. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5AuyEjt2XbcucbpHf8Z9Q9QtT358FOFymT_OxKbgvFUBdwtZYqoTawRdt8HozJ6uDIFMpOFKWKLlhwAGEPB51M2oC1cJrk71e2fD2ghE8QgHCAsSmeW3kwXV_YS004u0S9GXVNs0r6wo/s1080/grand+canyon+deer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5AuyEjt2XbcucbpHf8Z9Q9QtT358FOFymT_OxKbgvFUBdwtZYqoTawRdt8HozJ6uDIFMpOFKWKLlhwAGEPB51M2oC1cJrk71e2fD2ghE8QgHCAsSmeW3kwXV_YS004u0S9GXVNs0r6wo/w400-h266/grand+canyon+deer.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you see the second one?</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">At one point, Dave signaled me to stop and pulled out his camera. It took me a few minutes to see a deer in the brush. That he spotted it while we were whizzing by on bikes shouldn't surprise me. He has radar for wild animals. Later as he examined the picture, he saw there were actually two deer.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b>New Mexico</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Next up was a housesit in Tijeras, New Mexico, a mountainous community just outside of </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">Albuquerque. On the way we ate a super delish lunch at <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g47042-d13549951-Reviews-Oasis_Mediterranean_Restaurant-Gallup_New_Mexico.html" target="_blank">Oasis Mediterranean</a> in Gallup. The place looked like an abandoned gas station, but it was an authentic family-run business with fresh falafel, hummus, pita and dolmas.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPiiVoXMvZFmQgFgSwvlbk5qbnn2wXdhnRgMHeR6KmTl0GM3Az3hzrIUDn_78YTOjCvTz0GQVUr9iSDxJMHss-R0T6jodaMdZ7h0EsqkDAUMNe0GZA_QCrzXRz_ekyCz4wN5qE_Cb5t-II/s1440/foxy2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1251" data-original-width="1440" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPiiVoXMvZFmQgFgSwvlbk5qbnn2wXdhnRgMHeR6KmTl0GM3Az3hzrIUDn_78YTOjCvTz0GQVUr9iSDxJMHss-R0T6jodaMdZ7h0EsqkDAUMNe0GZA_QCrzXRz_ekyCz4wN5qE_Cb5t-II/w400-h348/foxy2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dave with Foxy</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We stayed at this housesit for four days, caring for two sweet dogs, a nice respite from the road. But our real reason for being in the area was to spend time with our friend Kari. One day we hung out in her cute house, chatting while a desert storm raged. Later we hunted down some excellent vegan New Mexican cuisine at <a href="https://www.yelp.com/biz/vegos-albuquerque?osq=vegan+restaurants" target="_blank">Vegos</a>. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguiaB9eQaOzPzZ_ieLTg7uT5v9ow54gGq857U_DDeqa6ILWJisomH_oCL67AolneITBRsDnufl3nUiG7i91h91_xy-urGluyV2hWCkAGHqDdxwzR9rqqBbHUzPLwFWFgSy45nsjey5znAf/s1165/mine+shaft+hdpb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="767" data-original-width="1165" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguiaB9eQaOzPzZ_ieLTg7uT5v9ow54gGq857U_DDeqa6ILWJisomH_oCL67AolneITBRsDnufl3nUiG7i91h91_xy-urGluyV2hWCkAGHqDdxwzR9rqqBbHUzPLwFWFgSy45nsjey5znAf/w400-h264/mine+shaft+hdpb.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The band, The High Desert Playboys, was a blast.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">The next day we drove to the charming, arsty town of Madrid (pronounced MAD-rid) for live music at a downhome outdoor venue called <a href="https://www.themineshafttavern.com/" target="_blank">The Mine Shaft</a>. After so much time sheltering in place, I'm still grateful every time I can boogie to a band.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4qdyITjS8edW0xnwMRFVRB-Pyj-FR7pOLRxisA9spMKPTOA8aw9JdoYchmOcGAWk-mxGTpJ4AQSGY-Tb8nuPf_raZubtNuUr0ddfEE5BwdLlnrtoib0_CVic0Fpxa_TEHUUWcCPm5iPst/s960/high+desert+playboys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4qdyITjS8edW0xnwMRFVRB-Pyj-FR7pOLRxisA9spMKPTOA8aw9JdoYchmOcGAWk-mxGTpJ4AQSGY-Tb8nuPf_raZubtNuUr0ddfEE5BwdLlnrtoib0_CVic0Fpxa_TEHUUWcCPm5iPst/w400-h300/high+desert+playboys.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So great to spend time with Kari.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">After that, we drove south to Carlsbad, and checked into our Airbnb, an RV--a first for us. In the pictures it had looked cuter and less outdated than it was--and the cleaner had neglected to find weevils crawling around in a kitchen cabinet. One call to the owner, and someone came to clean it up. We didn't ask, but they reimbursed us, so it turned out to be a funky but free place to sleep for two nights. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDt1UwjlcmxRU2BeodgveolzZ1SPUbB3GmscMTA5IQuGKXUm4oAq1CjSYlhbaUrEHL2SapTj7xUeW9_kcNw8dQeBD5xFyI0oNttppAbcRN9zfrhWomMa-2ySntNC1MMf8qtm9g97pVJOh-/s650/bats.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="488" data-original-width="650" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDt1UwjlcmxRU2BeodgveolzZ1SPUbB3GmscMTA5IQuGKXUm4oAq1CjSYlhbaUrEHL2SapTj7xUeW9_kcNw8dQeBD5xFyI0oNttppAbcRN9zfrhWomMa-2ySntNC1MMf8qtm9g97pVJOh-/w400-h300/bats.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not our picture (<a href="https://www.nps.gov/cave/planyourvisit/bat_flight_program.htm" target="_blank">credit</a>)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">At dusk, we were seated in the outdoor amphitheater at Carlsbad Caverns National Park, listening to the ranger tell us about the Brazilian free-tail bats we'd be seeing shortly. Soon, like a column of smoke, they emerged from the cave...and kept coming and coming. They were so close we could smell their guano-esque scent and hear their tiny flapping wings. A surprising urge welled up in me: some primordial part of me wished I were one of them, soaring out into the night.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTgYN1Jjaoz0KHL0sg9AHqd_kuYDTtVYMI1zUDLHjqYkjY9F08RigUaDPvZFSltCdMZ-Q1NyJQ-CTMgViVyorm9LGyog3oVOInEPn8Ns8EssQX4PWnyyE8UsaU6aEuXXuqZY_AWE7tRnlw/s1944/carlsbad1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTgYN1Jjaoz0KHL0sg9AHqd_kuYDTtVYMI1zUDLHjqYkjY9F08RigUaDPvZFSltCdMZ-Q1NyJQ-CTMgViVyorm9LGyog3oVOInEPn8Ns8EssQX4PWnyyE8UsaU6aEuXXuqZY_AWE7tRnlw/w400-h300/carlsbad1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the zillions of incredible formations in Carlsbad Caverns.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">The next day we took the hike deep into the cave. Honestly, I'd been dreading it, the vestiges of a claustrophobia I've mostly conquered rearing its head. The idea of being deep underground, not able to escape, was freaky. Also, I'd made the mistake of reading about tourists getting stuck for hours in the elevators. We planned on hiking in, but we knew the hike out might be too much. To refresh the phobia-quashing hypnotherapy I underwent years ago, I listened to guided meditations the night before. So glad I did.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjN1CCNojIJQoE6mr4gVNKPewU-0eoPNgbM1K_KO_yhvo1NTMYgVjdn6hTV_62NFmXfCdl1eQGYNT7S_EhoBno4oVTrTA80iRSepnaLzfVTWtgbHoIvr8nzc6YWpLN4X1lh1hC3JoepUuS/s1829/carlsbad2barbarysheep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1372" data-original-width="1829" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjN1CCNojIJQoE6mr4gVNKPewU-0eoPNgbM1K_KO_yhvo1NTMYgVjdn6hTV_62NFmXfCdl1eQGYNT7S_EhoBno4oVTrTA80iRSepnaLzfVTWtgbHoIvr8nzc6YWpLN4X1lh1hC3JoepUuS/w400-h300/carlsbad2barbarysheep.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barbary sheep in Carlsbad Caverns National Park</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Hiking into the darkness, seeing all of the dimly-lit incredible formations everywhere I turned, felt like being in Mother Nature's vast and sacred temple. I was too in awe to be bothered by a silly phobia. The place worked such magic on me that, a couple of hours later, I was able to step into the elevator with Dave (we had it to ourselves) and float without worry 750 feet back to the surface. If you want to see one of the great natural wonders of our planet, go to Carlsbad Caverns. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b>Texas</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We had three more days to drive to reach our housesit in New Orleans--and that meant crossing Texas. The first part of that huge state featured arid land with lots of tumbledown mobile homes surrounded by derricks nodding their dinosaur heads to pump oil out of the ground. Not to mention flames shooting out of the oil-works giving a Mad Max vibe to the place. But when we hit Abilene, we were charmed. Our Airbnb was nestled in a lovely neighborhood shaded by mature trees.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk2_MplNR63LAxGraggmgWL6_O_hzDfMc9DpkKY4PQ_mW2JpIHAUlgMYXmoJ22kfkO9BaDDNNaXMjLU3Y3RcrK8uk0TBDDI250jgqcJbqCL6wCDdtHCq-uqN7-tRidlvT4ajaqOig06SVX/s1944/Abilene+aribnb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="1944" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk2_MplNR63LAxGraggmgWL6_O_hzDfMc9DpkKY4PQ_mW2JpIHAUlgMYXmoJ22kfkO9BaDDNNaXMjLU3Y3RcrK8uk0TBDDI250jgqcJbqCL6wCDdtHCq-uqN7-tRidlvT4ajaqOig06SVX/w400-h300/Abilene+aribnb.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cute and comfy</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Walking around, we discovered a town with a large library, symphony, arts, and murals everywhere.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-E-tpBADV1GZxA4Lad1aPCTkTM6cqcSF1m7JJ_aE5nj6Tt7ITseGOAWstz3TZnf5ETzXQn4ZpkWniyetV4g1rhFjw2Eg9dt6ZsCYiJE9SWMzuM8x9_2toz1q1c9WFniGwV2NJnD-LFELU/s1652/Abilene.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1102" data-original-width="1652" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-E-tpBADV1GZxA4Lad1aPCTkTM6cqcSF1m7JJ_aE5nj6Tt7ITseGOAWstz3TZnf5ETzXQn4ZpkWniyetV4g1rhFjw2Eg9dt6ZsCYiJE9SWMzuM8x9_2toz1q1c9WFniGwV2NJnD-LFELU/w400-h266/Abilene.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">downtown Abilene</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">The next day we faced another five hours of driving to get to Marshall, Texas, almost at the border of Louisiana. The Airbnb sat on the property of the owner's home, between the peahen coop and the pond. The owner was a good ol' boy named Richard, who'd just had a pacemaker put in but clearly had no desire to slow down. He'd built the adorable cottage using wood from railroad cars, and the place was filled with his wood-working touches. He had a story about everything. He told us he'd been flooded out of his coastal Louisiana home and landed in Marshall. He struck us as a friendly, resilient man.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqESuH-_rqRPwhs7ZYJJIgaRmp5_JSptOplB1Oh-0VT4n8V009a4HH8DDVNttPu-ez5nMaTnPgDQjaS7NFy6OfhovHsvp5SN1BD6nzjBG7o2YwRU-Piz9Y_bShNb7XnIqX_OpJ1zGYxw-/s1577/MarshallTX+airbnb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1052" data-original-width="1577" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqESuH-_rqRPwhs7ZYJJIgaRmp5_JSptOplB1Oh-0VT4n8V009a4HH8DDVNttPu-ez5nMaTnPgDQjaS7NFy6OfhovHsvp5SN1BD6nzjBG7o2YwRU-Piz9Y_bShNb7XnIqX_OpJ1zGYxw-/w400-h266/MarshallTX+airbnb.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Finally the next day we drove the last leg to New Orleans. Dave's tooth was bothering him, so while he drove I made him an appointment with a NOLA dentist who had great Yelp reviews. What happened is the story for my next blog. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Let's just say, we're happy we had all these experiences but the road was long. We're ready to rest, which isn't exactly the New Orleans way. But we're not on vacation. This is our nomadic life, and even in NOLA we're going to do our best to tap into the slow-mad style.</span></p><p></p><p><br /></p>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-86510305709114197172021-10-08T18:24:00.000-07:002021-10-09T07:25:42.331-07:00Two Months in California<p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9OhOJeBkZ5h1THRwxZflHW86Puowjb5ZoV8v7UC485c-K1qbPObf_17c-MgO1VpxIP7hEUiKgVSP2h914PbUDz-7iEQ9_0fNX9wIecmmoQvSl3JwlKo-33v6JfPHs_XTBULAF4EwyBw8h/s2000/Wilder+Ranch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9OhOJeBkZ5h1THRwxZflHW86Puowjb5ZoV8v7UC485c-K1qbPObf_17c-MgO1VpxIP7hEUiKgVSP2h914PbUDz-7iEQ9_0fNX9wIecmmoQvSl3JwlKo-33v6JfPHs_XTBULAF4EwyBw8h/w400-h300/Wilder+Ranch.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking Wilder in Santa Cruz, one of California's many gifts.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">After <a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/08/slow-mads-in-kauai.html" target="_blank">three restful months</a> in <a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/06/hawaii-timeand-time-to-move-on.html" target="_blank">Hawaii</a>, we kicked off our California travels in the Bay Area.</span></p><p><b style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br /></b></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b>San Jose</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We spent a couple of weeks with Mark, whose place is a kind of California home base for us, always comfy and inviting. We had fun watching the Olympics together and did our usual <i>Jeopardy </i>binge, enjoying <a href="https://www.msn.com/en-us/tv/news/matt-amodio-breaks-personal-record-on-jeopardy-as-win-streak-continues/ar-AAPar6t?ocid=uxbndlbing" target="_blank">Matt Amodio's</a> brilliance. Also, the guys went to a Giants game and watched them beat Houston. What a great season it's been.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgotwIpFkB-KdbDI0C4xsrQY3Fnk9MbePNjSCsWOJP0h4y33qxuTvdMWa8Uy1RmpkidDL4tFRu3hyphenhyphenIQBFvUw3VW9l5fomhX3vSqOQ1HanH3-zYeE1tVaQ6AvMFyu1Dn4lWbM6cp8p6v9DvH/s960/Giants.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgotwIpFkB-KdbDI0C4xsrQY3Fnk9MbePNjSCsWOJP0h4y33qxuTvdMWa8Uy1RmpkidDL4tFRu3hyphenhyphenIQBFvUw3VW9l5fomhX3vSqOQ1HanH3-zYeE1tVaQ6AvMFyu1Dn4lWbM6cp8p6v9DvH/w300-h400/Giants.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark, Dave & Steve at Oracle Park</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga5quQKVvQPPNSZR3e3W-m-pGYAEMG-xd5oqEk-lrcwwQ59W7OK0Fv3x6HL95Qmcblrm-F1wPdL860312m1hyIhe8O8ttDDe18Thi34Pb0lZtG2WLtWE7i_Rvh6FFvRqMRmy3iyFQEqql_/s2000/McCovey+Cove.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga5quQKVvQPPNSZR3e3W-m-pGYAEMG-xd5oqEk-lrcwwQ59W7OK0Fv3x6HL95Qmcblrm-F1wPdL860312m1hyIhe8O8ttDDe18Thi34Pb0lZtG2WLtWE7i_Rvh6FFvRqMRmy3iyFQEqql_/w400-h300/McCovey+Cove.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful day at McCovey Cove</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span><span style="font-family: verdana;">Fortune smiled on us in the gathering of family nearby, even though most of them don't live in the Bay Area anymore. They were meeting up to celebrate my niece Jenna's start of college at Indiana University, and to wish my other niece Hailey best of luck upon her return to </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">University of Tennessee, Knoxville. My nephew Evan was also there, as were my sister</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> Crystal and her boyfriend Kristian who now live in San Diego. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8kbkSYsLHsDb6WOQ-CYUaqeKxQI8-lCLajXpUyr53OKG-6vTfq0v_ABEv0nJ5k96nOpPKzaUIJ8H7GUk-tBuWTP4P45gxb8m0mqztyRPpKBX8hDZSdKdSZp4qhdYA2_HC27t3Px9epReZ/s1723/family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1149" data-original-width="1723" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8kbkSYsLHsDb6WOQ-CYUaqeKxQI8-lCLajXpUyr53OKG-6vTfq0v_ABEv0nJ5k96nOpPKzaUIJ8H7GUk-tBuWTP4P45gxb8m0mqztyRPpKBX8hDZSdKdSZp4qhdYA2_HC27t3Px9epReZ/w400-h266/family.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the clan</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">We did some hiking at Alum Rock Park in San Jose, and took a day trip to our old hometown, Santa Cruz, for a delicious walk along West Cliff. Little did we know we'd be back in Santa Cruz shortly.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGo7TBp5cFcIH51TUdjB9nM8PqhCd-sTPz6F-V-uaQbdu_wDPIhQJENfbCHV-mUwdf83uyRk_36MHz1l_6bD4vQYVjswR2M9zow_HaFzOhlur9drI1MzfYopGA7Obh-L5riFjI0cWrIKBM/s2000/West+Cliff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGo7TBp5cFcIH51TUdjB9nM8PqhCd-sTPz6F-V-uaQbdu_wDPIhQJENfbCHV-mUwdf83uyRk_36MHz1l_6bD4vQYVjswR2M9zow_HaFzOhlur9drI1MzfYopGA7Obh-L5riFjI0cWrIKBM/w400-h300/West+Cliff.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"></span><p></p><p><b style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">Monterey </span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We were happy to score a two-week housesit in Monterey, taking care of two cute little pups. The house looked out over the ocean, so every day we walked the short path to this beach. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghxWHVLPeQuSYesAePjST_ypOLYOpFqXe-yt90fJauO6cD_NHcmn6Qt1I50bX89-ZEycdHQXE8-rSuBY2eeQQ14etLOY2A3ReZ1KAGjQpB8ykHjM2rNznwTwV6lA0RQLTTrnS-Hy0ks90Y/s1440/MONTEREYdogs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghxWHVLPeQuSYesAePjST_ypOLYOpFqXe-yt90fJauO6cD_NHcmn6Qt1I50bX89-ZEycdHQXE8-rSuBY2eeQQ14etLOY2A3ReZ1KAGjQpB8ykHjM2rNznwTwV6lA0RQLTTrnS-Hy0ks90Y/w400-h300/MONTEREYdogs.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dave with Jack and Mario</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">The owner let us use her e-bikes, which we cruised along the inviting path that goes through town and along the coast. We've ridden e-bike a few times now, and the technology just keeps getting better and better. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">The Monterey Bay is a national marine sanctuary, alive with sea creatures. Our friends Kelly, Terry and Laurie came down for whale watching and lunch at <a href="https://dustbowlbrewing.com/" target="_blank">Dust Bowl Brewing</a>, an outdoor place with great beers and a taco truck. (And yes they offered vegan tacos!)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbL53ecw8w5xs763jqtp1GY90dHLZsCFo_it0M99Ny9MZ8L0pPqmiT8XTfp5s_RpqZJihFjUTsQEMeOl4CHgna9DfYEF2Yh2USJ0em6H64s8iTAgHzkkngQZnAC1CbqEK2uqFYzJfiP4fU/s960/monterey1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbL53ecw8w5xs763jqtp1GY90dHLZsCFo_it0M99Ny9MZ8L0pPqmiT8XTfp5s_RpqZJihFjUTsQEMeOl4CHgna9DfYEF2Yh2USJ0em6H64s8iTAgHzkkngQZnAC1CbqEK2uqFYzJfiP4fU/w400-h300/monterey1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMVXa1DEhFfD4l6uzP2rjWntlFfirj2x-H9OH8muyN5kzltk4WohdJ7eFlAixFyRWlj6wQcUFCYZZq_ckGzTDuE4jzRNe87fQkuvY7O9ks_6bSgYUMsfcOzipLU1B6GRXYcdiLE9Z97zcD/s649/monterey2.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="577" data-original-width="649" height="355" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMVXa1DEhFfD4l6uzP2rjWntlFfirj2x-H9OH8muyN5kzltk4WohdJ7eFlAixFyRWlj6wQcUFCYZZq_ckGzTDuE4jzRNe87fQkuvY7O9ks_6bSgYUMsfcOzipLU1B6GRXYcdiLE9Z97zcD/w400-h355/monterey2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We also met Daisy and Tung for lunch at the iconic all-vegan Mexican place,<a href="https://www.orderelcantaro.com/" target="_blank"> El Cantaro</a> I was thrilled to finally get to meet Danni and to see Luc again before he's as tall as his daddy! I love this family so much. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMz90zJkILmLfN9J6DMt5uC60Doqg5-ZNhVGEVGtfmLQnvDlpNnh-4d7DL6S1B_upKWDxwhYuaos2ULbDpreJeojDmAgbXnmqut6uT0dCeHhwaTtFKuP6I44dBZt9tKYEBuL54Qt-1qFVi/s960/Daisy+Tun+Danni+and+Luc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="740" data-original-width="960" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMz90zJkILmLfN9J6DMt5uC60Doqg5-ZNhVGEVGtfmLQnvDlpNnh-4d7DL6S1B_upKWDxwhYuaos2ULbDpreJeojDmAgbXnmqut6uT0dCeHhwaTtFKuP6I44dBZt9tKYEBuL54Qt-1qFVi/w400-h309/Daisy+Tun+Danni+and+Luc.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch with Daisy, Tung, Danni & Luc</td></tr></tbody></table></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">One day Mark came down, and he and Dave went to a car show, as it was Monterey Car Week. (We caught glimpses of cool cars all over town.)</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN3oKTo32Hxmerutipf8vSPBkTxNI-0jwZKblwpDEFsz2-4KE7E2of4u1betgvoWg9iysd9Zv3VVNCUIJXw00230O0OyxV1HEBaiqM3oQSeCygfJgO0s1LVXLCo7T2j2tOBn7lrDFlIaoZ/s2000/Dave+and+Mark+Car+Show+in+Carmel+Concours+on+the+Avenue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN3oKTo32Hxmerutipf8vSPBkTxNI-0jwZKblwpDEFsz2-4KE7E2of4u1betgvoWg9iysd9Zv3VVNCUIJXw00230O0OyxV1HEBaiqM3oQSeCygfJgO0s1LVXLCo7T2j2tOBn7lrDFlIaoZ/w400-h300/Dave+and+Mark+Car+Show+in+Carmel+Concours+on+the+Avenue.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">One afternoon we headed to nearby Pacific Grove to meet with my former colleague, Susan, and her husband Gilly. After an invigorating walk through the Pebble Beach dunes to the beach near Spanish Bay, we hung out in their back yard, talking about stuff we love: the ocean, the outdoors, travel, books. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDbXeNisCBmJMs5dNTqKre48XTAMejk3IMf-9tdORc3t1b267yAfhihfjMafl_BgpNHH6zuSotUNMYUzAsSXaydTnZVD3jqeXKqwtzBesceNadgqU9X4iwdyWVMmMcgq5q1_1YOOIMB_U7/s1907/hiking+Dunes+Pebble+Beach+with+Gilly+and+Susan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1430" data-original-width="1907" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDbXeNisCBmJMs5dNTqKre48XTAMejk3IMf-9tdORc3t1b267yAfhihfjMafl_BgpNHH6zuSotUNMYUzAsSXaydTnZVD3jqeXKqwtzBesceNadgqU9X4iwdyWVMmMcgq5q1_1YOOIMB_U7/w400-h300/hiking+Dunes+Pebble+Beach+with+Gilly+and+Susan.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dune walk to the beach</td></tr></tbody></table></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b>Berkeley</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Next we headed to another housesit in the Berkeley Hills in a charming neighborhood with steep, winding streets. We fell in love with Billie, an energetic yet well-trained sweet Rottie who enjoyed chasing her ball at the nearby park.</span></p><p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG8Ez4RebOhL5edktkEY9hu3nKgPf0cqDv9wub43CENSq9XRccju5O76WV4s6uZCnh7dHN4c9o_i6EkLdGLSXCDiIUz5avpRQm4Askz19s-WpJkt7MmxzmYVkqIs2pe6sAYT8CatndHe76/s1440/Dave+with+Billie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1115" data-original-width="1440" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG8Ez4RebOhL5edktkEY9hu3nKgPf0cqDv9wub43CENSq9XRccju5O76WV4s6uZCnh7dHN4c9o_i6EkLdGLSXCDiIUz5avpRQm4Askz19s-WpJkt7MmxzmYVkqIs2pe6sAYT8CatndHe76/w400-h310/Dave+with+Billie.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Billie digs her toys</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: large;">The meetups continued. Dave, a Cal alumni, spent time with two old fraternity friends. And my former colleague Persis invited us to her sweet home and made us a delectable dinner. </span></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEzqNFW1ZIJFfpArKVgX8p3JjQkQfaoL07JMr7T6OjYsXkG41FujRGpI_T-I8qx_HP9iECik2gHVTZk99DbV8WNSQeCmpmx6fTCFX6YUZtPrikAtpjtgXdM3ibMZKNGKBhLS-Tkf8I_sch/s1917/Us+with+Persis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1278" data-original-width="1917" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEzqNFW1ZIJFfpArKVgX8p3JjQkQfaoL07JMr7T6OjYsXkG41FujRGpI_T-I8qx_HP9iECik2gHVTZk99DbV8WNSQeCmpmx6fTCFX6YUZtPrikAtpjtgXdM3ibMZKNGKBhLS-Tkf8I_sch/w400-h266/Us+with+Persis.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A joy to spend time with Persis.</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">One day I drove up to the Sonoma coast to meet the delightful powerhouse <a href="https://www.aprilhirschman.com/" target="_blank">April Hirschman</a> and chat on her podcast about memoir, bisexuality, self-love and wanderlust (</span><a href="https://open.spotify.com/episode/2TAvyI1wNaXizymez51j5y" style="font-family: verdana;" target="_blank">listen here</a><span style="font-family: verdana;">). </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjzapJVI-TQaTQBOU1LGAma63mfpCmC31Ky_k9p4EVjAYQuKN5xmjn_8Xbu8Wpu439w73GwSa0HYSoBH-O8KkNkL9c4fU9-cod3-_rAKjj5JH4ySpUWUFvyCJ9PA8luAfi67MvgawwC-0q/s960/april.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="793" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjzapJVI-TQaTQBOU1LGAma63mfpCmC31Ky_k9p4EVjAYQuKN5xmjn_8Xbu8Wpu439w73GwSa0HYSoBH-O8KkNkL9c4fU9-cod3-_rAKjj5JH4ySpUWUFvyCJ9PA8luAfi67MvgawwC-0q/w330-h400/april.jpg" width="330" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you tell we had fun?!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We had a gap of a few days in our itinerary, when my friend Stacey invited us to come stay at her home in the Santa Cruz mountains. So we loaded up all our stuff (did I mention our car is jam-packed with things to handle warm and cold weather and months on the road?)--and minutes from the house, all the dash lights started flashing on Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, our 10-year-old Subaru.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><i>All </i>the dash lights.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">It was a Friday afternoon. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We had a three hour drive ahead of us.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">We found an open garage where the doom-and-gloom mechanic claimed Subarus suck and we'd probably need a completely new transmission that would take an armload of cash and a long time to fix.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">The idea of hauling all of our stuff to a hotel room and waiting who-knew-how-many-days to get the car back on the road sounded as inviting as an ice pick to the eyeball. Dave pointed out the car was driving fine. It would...probably...make it. And if we waited any longer, traffic would be hell. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">As Dave drove the winding back roads, I called the Subaru dealer in Santa Cruz and made an appointment for Monday. </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">When we pulled into Stacey's driveway, I exhaled, realizing I'd held my breath most of the long drive.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b>Santa Cruz Mountains</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Stacey's gorgeous house nearly burnt down in last year's fire. But fortunately it still stands, and there's evidence everywhere of new growth around the singed redwoods. It reminded me of <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=stacey+poem" target="_blank">a poem</a> Stacey one wrote that witnessed my rebirth after a horrible divorce. It includes the lines, "blackened rubble ... / old decay / now new food / for interminable roots."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja9SixDePF2nLPyuwUbd7wtMT4xxP3Q7U-elUhH-YJlLmyk0Cij_jEGML08mOQn8PFof66iwUY4QWfzzNZoxyQ1BM6bjDvSUN3DwCKbMcZcOeE_RxkNOrNEBAr7n7bSD2KGcAGyXFEvbkX/s2000/SC+new+growth+fire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja9SixDePF2nLPyuwUbd7wtMT4xxP3Q7U-elUhH-YJlLmyk0Cij_jEGML08mOQn8PFof66iwUY4QWfzzNZoxyQ1BM6bjDvSUN3DwCKbMcZcOeE_RxkNOrNEBAr7n7bSD2KGcAGyXFEvbkX/w400-h300/SC+new+growth+fire.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">new growth</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></p><p></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">It was sweet to spend some time with her and her twin sons who are now in college. We took a walk at <a href="https://www.parks.ca.gov/?page_id=28568" target="_blank">Wilder State Park</a> along the bluffs, past a herd of harbor seals. We had an incredible <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g33066-d2180419-Reviews-Otoro_Sushi-Scotts_Valley_California.html" target="_blank">sushi dinner</a> in Scott's Valley.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">In the midst of all this, the dealer said our car wouldn't be ready until Friday. We had to drive three hours on Thursday to get to our central coast housesit. Dave was resigned that the next day he'd have to drive six hours round trip to return the loaner and retrieve our car. But miraculously, our car was ready early. Santa Cruz has always been good to us.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b>Santa Maria</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Next up was a housesit in Santa Maria, a city of 100,000+ a bit inland from the Central Coast. We spent a day with Andrea, the homeowner, and enjoyed a meal together hearing about her interesting life. I was especially intrigued by the fact that she'd trekked <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camino_de_Santiago" target="_blank">the Camino</a> twice in her sixties. The first time she did 500 miles, a month of walking. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKVrx7afFDk6Zcyx9Q-LH6_VUwIJjpTiril5fiiQQo0D_4v_zmyP6Dj2P-Qsd7qKkOUlUqd6Hp50J_ojmGPjBJsbQDLcuRq8ZpQ5Y-Tz-ont8klQS8sQ9nWxrRhnglzDsOiflCER3ujGu4/s2000/Simon+in+SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKVrx7afFDk6Zcyx9Q-LH6_VUwIJjpTiril5fiiQQo0D_4v_zmyP6Dj2P-Qsd7qKkOUlUqd6Hp50J_ojmGPjBJsbQDLcuRq8ZpQ5Y-Tz-ont8klQS8sQ9nWxrRhnglzDsOiflCER3ujGu4/w400-h300/Simon+in+SM.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simon, our roommate at Andrea's house</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">That night we curled up on her couch with wineglasses in hand and watched Martin Sheen walk the Camino in <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1441912/" target="_blank">The Way,</a> a movie new to Dave and me but one Andrea has seen many times. What a cool thing housesitting is, that a stranger invites us into the intimacy of her home and becomes an instant friend. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">I could have stayed in that area a month or longer, there was so much to do and see. One day we rented bikes in Avila and rode the Bob Jones Trail. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JL6LNRyK14znzd1kakrnl4XiqSNMC8Lw51oFooaaP7Q-ZSp2I8qwUyGRFfEuyqAwI2rg82DCV6PqpOSVQd_k1Fxr39EXmzHX-lYLh6RUqjN7k3HGlOOTH49JQnWXjTEjaV4urjZtodle/s2000/Bob+Jones+Trail+Avila.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8JL6LNRyK14znzd1kakrnl4XiqSNMC8Lw51oFooaaP7Q-ZSp2I8qwUyGRFfEuyqAwI2rg82DCV6PqpOSVQd_k1Fxr39EXmzHX-lYLh6RUqjN7k3HGlOOTH49JQnWXjTEjaV4urjZtodle/w400-h300/Bob+Jones+Trail+Avila.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">scenic</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4gpp3fsDzl8abw4PkCH7W1Iq2fVxxzL13j7A4zDsWfPFpUnFIcgx0pwlerMABFl-sP61Bo0poryPNQdyx5nuT8u95Yk_YUuUy8QKchwu5nIm0OVMWZ45v_rWup7Uan2nwy34jaW5b5Vlw/s2000/great+blue+heron+avila+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4gpp3fsDzl8abw4PkCH7W1Iq2fVxxzL13j7A4zDsWfPFpUnFIcgx0pwlerMABFl-sP61Bo0poryPNQdyx5nuT8u95Yk_YUuUy8QKchwu5nIm0OVMWZ45v_rWup7Uan2nwy34jaW5b5Vlw/w400-h300/great+blue+heron+avila+beach.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great Blue Heron at Avila Beach</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">On the <a href="https://www.parks.ca.gov/?page_id=30597" target="_blank">Oso Flaco</a> hike along the boardwalk, we saw fish jumping in the lake, and birds swooping around. From the dunes, we gazed out to the ocean. Also spectacular was driving through <a href="http://dunescenter.org/visit-the-dunes/points-of-interest/rancho-guadalupe-dunes-preserve-county-park/" target="_blank">Guadalupe Dunes Preserve</a>, impressive dunes that are protected nesting areas for plovers. We ended up at a vast, beautiful beach where humpback whales were frolicking in the distance.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA8hZvQWoeo87IkQ4fLKUoE9iipYoe_sLsOLVbYUA6vt2YSEtAHYeplaen9nDDHhDYgvXUQ0QGzQqCq7NGcjLOBowiYclgVbQdkgDLm-8D5iq0f1QLDZQPrWCIYJZT-BkpVxyeUQnUGA0f/s2000/Oso+Flaco+with+Laurie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA8hZvQWoeo87IkQ4fLKUoE9iipYoe_sLsOLVbYUA6vt2YSEtAHYeplaen9nDDHhDYgvXUQ0QGzQqCq7NGcjLOBowiYclgVbQdkgDLm-8D5iq0f1QLDZQPrWCIYJZT-BkpVxyeUQnUGA0f/w400-h300/Oso+Flaco+with+Laurie.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with Laurie at Oso Flaco</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">It just so happened that Laurie was staying in an Airbnb for a month in nearby San Luis Obispo. Having recently sold her home, she had now joined our nomadic tribe--although she fell in love with the area and may end up planting roots there. We hiked together and went wine tasting. We also spent a day wandering around the sweet downtown of SLO and had lunch at super yummy <a href="https://www.blisscafeslo.com/" target="_blank">Bliss Cafe</a>.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRnUs49DLjlzJEkCrKtS6zIpP7cM_rZa5sWrP5Lp58Rl4lVil4kH6pCUeBknZ6Gqsp5OWKuIb4OGVvAwb_NAbaZsCz1TJ8NaBWR2LFodRAqeB6xxeLL-dduyP6deJe2I32ahMcmk6Mv85j/s1440/wine+tasting+with+Jill+Laetitia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="966" data-original-width="1440" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRnUs49DLjlzJEkCrKtS6zIpP7cM_rZa5sWrP5Lp58Rl4lVil4kH6pCUeBknZ6Gqsp5OWKuIb4OGVvAwb_NAbaZsCz1TJ8NaBWR2LFodRAqeB6xxeLL-dduyP6deJe2I32ahMcmk6Mv85j/w400-h269/wine+tasting+with+Jill+Laetitia.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with Jill at Leticia Winery</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">And we got to meet up with Jill, the cousin of Dave's beloved long-time friend Mark who died recently. As we communed in this lovely spot, his energy was with us.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b>L.A.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Our last California stop was L.A., to spend two nights with my longtime friend Nancy and her husband Andy. We made the plan to get there while her art show, <a href="https://santamonica.bgartdealings.com/bg_artistgallery/nancy-larrew/" target="_blank">"Family Reunion," was up at bG Gallery</a> in Santa Monica. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPLvrq-P8MpYLDOPjG7m_A0bBtt2lVm4U2PRh4TidxCGmeKsZb5EVorXLTRMHGbpgSoIlViP8UMyiMxG7aa4JPtgg7z3ZmICJtIhwX86_tcMZEPF55JlHj6iXhNm47cd0nTVO7vymDAnJ5/s960/LA+show.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPLvrq-P8MpYLDOPjG7m_A0bBtt2lVm4U2PRh4TidxCGmeKsZb5EVorXLTRMHGbpgSoIlViP8UMyiMxG7aa4JPtgg7z3ZmICJtIhwX86_tcMZEPF55JlHj6iXhNm47cd0nTVO7vymDAnJ5/w400-h300/LA+show.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the artist with one of her creations</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I'd been talking to her for months and watching her progress on social media as she made sculptures</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> and paintings--and as she sorted through family stories and photographs. The show's stunning centerpiece is "Roots," 256 individuals that illustrate the mind-blowing number of people required over only eight generations to make YOU.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLPUmhMLpHzcocIDMNgLRMJyA8QLF4vO2LVfyG-HV5-aaqjvpZTVO5t3HryxrgZacOv9eGciehKVzFVO138P6Jxu8TVtCNJZSa4xc9vW2bhedNT7_SvNCBPj_CX89LxHvMciNou-93-TjL/s960/LA+Show+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLPUmhMLpHzcocIDMNgLRMJyA8QLF4vO2LVfyG-HV5-aaqjvpZTVO5t3HryxrgZacOv9eGciehKVzFVO138P6Jxu8TVtCNJZSa4xc9vW2bhedNT7_SvNCBPj_CX89LxHvMciNou-93-TjL/w400-h300/LA+Show+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nancy with Roots<br /><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGI6ivclxdDNm9ms6MI0ETfkuP-cGGYF1Yf-QQA1Uvh7DvkJyDvGIMDYcvdW68VNsMk38X4xoQv5mE1_Uuoe-UbTEG7wfDCBAsnyVYYCcELhGK85o1kil88ge1qW7pyz_RxT1SC5QUCAE5/s2000/nancyshow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGI6ivclxdDNm9ms6MI0ETfkuP-cGGYF1Yf-QQA1Uvh7DvkJyDvGIMDYcvdW68VNsMk38X4xoQv5mE1_Uuoe-UbTEG7wfDCBAsnyVYYCcELhGK85o1kil88ge1qW7pyz_RxT1SC5QUCAE5/w400-h300/nancyshow.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">close-up of Roots</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">The other art pieces and paintings in the exhibition all resonate with ideas of family, ancestry and the biology of becoming. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCWdH34HEF3bT2wsh0dh5Xwg5DiZ2QHAxivxhweHlm_hrVMjm9n33tAsBljqUy22CaU_JmNqGS0A8F4utB5RMJEjRo_cqUX7QH942BLhar6kRdFGFx74ybUjxxEi-qfstOdzOP5Cd-dL8G/s960/LA+show+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCWdH34HEF3bT2wsh0dh5Xwg5DiZ2QHAxivxhweHlm_hrVMjm9n33tAsBljqUy22CaU_JmNqGS0A8F4utB5RMJEjRo_cqUX7QH942BLhar6kRdFGFx74ybUjxxEi-qfstOdzOP5Cd-dL8G/w400-h300/LA+show+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">While Nancy and I were having lunch and gallery hopping, Andy and Dave were on a quest to buy Dave a new camera. With the stock of everything low due to the pandemic madness, they drove hours all over L.A. It's a long story...and was a long day...but they finally scored one. And that is the kind of thing friends do for each other.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">That is what this time in California turned out to be mostly about: spending time with people we love. I'd thought being nomadic would mean seeing our friends and family less. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">But it has turned out that when we're in town, we're not under the illusion that we can meet next week for lunch. We grab the time now...because now is all we have.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSiVX6hFNhznmzMJyJaNVdNwNtDQ-_k3Qeij2DHMZiM5onOjFYV46-pP8vHrkMUmuCgnIKpgs9CQ7sR71v6ap0Jgp-VrcbSEg1mj4mVEXqPTNRMqGDHQNFlnjcE4sG1mQW2LEUG19-AbZQ/s750/US+Oso+Flaco.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: verdana; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="686" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSiVX6hFNhznmzMJyJaNVdNwNtDQ-_k3Qeij2DHMZiM5onOjFYV46-pP8vHrkMUmuCgnIKpgs9CQ7sR71v6ap0Jgp-VrcbSEg1mj4mVEXqPTNRMqGDHQNFlnjcE4sG1mQW2LEUG19-AbZQ/w366-h400/US+Oso+Flaco.jpg" width="366" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dave and me hiking, photo by Laurie</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-74704533954880740642021-08-04T10:53:00.001-07:002021-08-04T10:53:21.768-07:00Slow-mads in Kauai<div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYHX9yOYOeuen-JE3Icy5YNYYuZYlnMqWWvTg5tMle6d9CaqKpnpPAE_qIi01pJ2s1_ZXSTCh5mKUlAPhmATQiRNpoeSR5xjTxDnYlUmD0rv_kp5MjM2Y3fwQkFtLnu2Va-VwLMKiiwga5/s1440/anini+beach.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYHX9yOYOeuen-JE3Icy5YNYYuZYlnMqWWvTg5tMle6d9CaqKpnpPAE_qIi01pJ2s1_ZXSTCh5mKUlAPhmATQiRNpoeSR5xjTxDnYlUmD0rv_kp5MjM2Y3fwQkFtLnu2Va-VwLMKiiwga5/w400-h300/anini+beach.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kauai is a postcard.<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></span></div><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">"Slow-mads" are slow nomads, explorers who spend long periods of time in places. To me, the word suggests not rushing. It's about going with the flow as life unfolds, bumps and all.</span><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><span>Yes, we plan. But often we don't know what our next step will be...as was the case when we went to</span> <a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/06/hawaii-timeand-time-to-move-on.html" target="_blank">housesit on the Big Island</a> for two months. One day my friend Laurie said a friend of hers wanted to sublet her place on Kauai. Perfect. We'd been hoping to spend more time on the islands.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="997" data-original-width="1440" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyV52TFuXvmNYS9OtHPqhIRdIMuNGrUHOUToCZn7zU3GbaceUyfuhF3BiGbmIvPmh_Wj11SsotC03T6ytyXcT0VJqjsl5Om7wG0SuDyoeCj3sFMsKU6w8HpwNeZk2WvNuA-FUUytmoxjt/w400-h278/kauai1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">View from the lanai</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyV52TFuXvmNYS9OtHPqhIRdIMuNGrUHOUToCZn7zU3GbaceUyfuhF3BiGbmIvPmh_Wj11SsotC03T6ytyXcT0VJqjsl5Om7wG0SuDyoeCj3sFMsKU6w8HpwNeZk2WvNuA-FUUytmoxjt/s1440/kauai1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">She gave us smokin' deal that included the use of her car. This was huge given how car rental prices have blown up recently.</span><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">On a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/187632228555420" target="_blank">Kauai Facebook page</a>, I'd been reading about another problem: lack of taxis and Ubers. Getting from the airport to your lodging could take hours. When I posted for suggestions, a woman PM'd me, saying she'd deliver us to our doorstop for $20. Hm. Should I trust a stranger? Yes is my usual answer.</span></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3fvwyankUAhXXru4eafpG_RBEzAJjKv0f3ZyhaP47BRsLT5oH2eVnJvhURRtzTVNAjwRN-MDK5Ljl9c-iS7KSI1c9gI1qgCIr4l5do4lLPVpVeVRM68aYyag84R4myAtNmg5afGVaaBd5/w400-h300/anini.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Joy of Anini Beach</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3fvwyankUAhXXru4eafpG_RBEzAJjKv0f3ZyhaP47BRsLT5oH2eVnJvhURRtzTVNAjwRN-MDK5Ljl9c-iS7KSI1c9gI1qgCIr4l5do4lLPVpVeVRM68aYyag84R4myAtNmg5afGVaaBd5/s1728/anini.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Sure enough, she showed up on time and drove us north to Kapa'a. Along the way, she pointed out a store her friend owned, a restaurant or two, and a guy with purplish skin and wearing a purple cape that everyone calls The Purple Man. He was a regular sighting during our five weeks there. We gave her $30 for her friendly helpfulness. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjyFxzyxkD_KCxeYUwXLm845dWdedrDrU2NauQI0RbMngo1YlaYNDeM4Ja9o8LHEc8bMe-T2jD12ujk2EaYXFK8YwVafRRo52pETEZ3oHLVf0qz09cyBU2VP5w44G9i1TFyNCQMyFkuIn0/w400-h300/kapaa+multiuse+path.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kap'a Multiuse Path</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjyFxzyxkD_KCxeYUwXLm845dWdedrDrU2NauQI0RbMngo1YlaYNDeM4Ja9o8LHEc8bMe-T2jD12ujk2EaYXFK8YwVafRRo52pETEZ3oHLVf0qz09cyBU2VP5w44G9i1TFyNCQMyFkuIn0/s960/kapaa+multiuse+path.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">As always when we land, we set to making the place our own. We unpacked, cleaned, and moved furniture onto the lanai to take advantage of the incredible view and ocean breezes. And the crowing of roosters. They are an unavoidable part of Kauai life. While their squawking might get old, they are quite beautiful, and the ubiquitous baby chicks scuttling after the mama hens are adorable.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiytpI0z6EJbYvf5sfLyhotH8y6yaQWJkuDohAAmlVpO4_SPDNdLUSGyjFVNQ9ecwmw6RBci-jWQoNg7iWQ5-dzOk9BKyi0pQTpyzvUvv9L9p585-WHo9YKCj_1R_gBlhNeJXmXUpItP8pT/w400-h300/rooster.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">strutting his stuff</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiytpI0z6EJbYvf5sfLyhotH8y6yaQWJkuDohAAmlVpO4_SPDNdLUSGyjFVNQ9ecwmw6RBci-jWQoNg7iWQ5-dzOk9BKyi0pQTpyzvUvv9L9p585-WHo9YKCj_1R_gBlhNeJXmXUpItP8pT/s2000/rooster.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;">After one night of tossing and turning in the hot bedroom that faced the noisy street (well, that me was ME trying to sleep; Dave can sleep anywhere), we even moved the bed into the living room. I loved drifting off to the lull of the waves.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57viUXfE7JPLzRJP5QNILze2MchPobodggaAkypXrUfINEb_LYrDZ2Qfy7cG6rXGlb49qnImkVq8Kzow8bZKdRNzaFovi8Gth-045bWhxy2PG4oW6qiHP6wHs62YgkuPFmrtF_LYgc1rr/w400-h300/debme+foodtruck.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">At Namaste with another new friend, Debbie</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57viUXfE7JPLzRJP5QNILze2MchPobodggaAkypXrUfINEb_LYrDZ2Qfy7cG6rXGlb49qnImkVq8Kzow8bZKdRNzaFovi8Gth-045bWhxy2PG4oW6qiHP6wHs62YgkuPFmrtF_LYgc1rr/s2000/debme+foodtruck.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">That first night we walked a short way to Namaste, an Indian food truck, where an old guy cranks out delectable food. We shared a table with a couple and struck up a conversation. Next thing we knew, we had a date to visit them in Kilauea. A few days later, they toured us around their gorgeous property, and we hung out in the shade drinking margaritas and sharing stories about famous people we've encountered, live music we've seen, and places we've traveled. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg1dlBr0zEYKuAPzriQi-r_r-JuGU6moF9ozHawEKIGMt74nWfVmzp3FzZYt0zhIUIsM_HJmXZdoo3BQ65ScvG4pCSVYkB6pcVni__0X8-d-ViOoZxYlmmdHNKfkuQNBvM3oPXd36TRPrd/w400-h300/new+friend+Michele+and+Rich+Kilauea.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">New friends Rich and Michele</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Before we went to see them, we took this gorgeous hike along the <a href="https://www.alltrails.com/trail/hawaii/kauai/wai-koa-stone-dam?u=i" target="_blank">Wai Koa Loop Trai</a>l:</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7_d8wvSoWjIMEKh3IponWS6mLQqm92uqoya61bNRx1uyOoeakudmHafoI-Tix_skDa7Uym9V-NNXCV-l-0RVDFpwoebYS2exMYxDG58Y6QYMf0zAr0erkqvRIlu7_esvvzUbZbF-z3bEx/w400-h300/wai+koa+loop+trail.jpg" width="400" /></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7_d8wvSoWjIMEKh3IponWS6mLQqm92uqoya61bNRx1uyOoeakudmHafoI-Tix_skDa7Uym9V-NNXCV-l-0RVDFpwoebYS2exMYxDG58Y6QYMf0zAr0erkqvRIlu7_esvvzUbZbF-z3bEx/s960/wai+koa+loop+trail.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This trail is on private land, but the owners allow public access. I'd learned on the Kauai Facebook page that the main entrance is closed and to enter via the dog park. (Slow-mad Tip: Joining the Facebook page of our destinations is a great way to get the inside scoop).</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="860" height="376" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL4bXMpCbBw0kqV7Kmn_E9B6k34DqTFjGU_jhRiPx9QK-Y_59BsfxHTFlxr1WTvBc2NLqQ8pql7OlxcLidelBPCS12TqEHTAqGNn2RsIesQm2hZ1Ag1draDg0yV2sI8oNS1Cq1PfvhkuCU/w400-h376/horse.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Along the Wai Koa hike</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We also visited the Kilauea Farmer's Market, a cool scene but the Indian food from a booth was subpar. It would be Namaste food truck for us here on out. And we checked out the stunning Kilauea Lighthouse overlook. In these pandemic times, you need a reservation to visit the lighthouse, but getting to this point was good enough for us.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1449" data-original-width="1932" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTqN962sUMpE7mH6xZVz2BbBb1f1jTImNyDqu0sOSmh38Ci-eEFYBDjD5JoD84HcQWenw5Ay4A4rALb0luCRPhs8CV4q-PV7mZJ_PZ2tdnrgt-Sf3oc6IAqhclgaBgqXN0c-W7fI1ADRev/w400-h300/Kilauea+Lighthouse.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lighthouse in the distance</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTqN962sUMpE7mH6xZVz2BbBb1f1jTImNyDqu0sOSmh38Ci-eEFYBDjD5JoD84HcQWenw5Ay4A4rALb0luCRPhs8CV4q-PV7mZJ_PZ2tdnrgt-Sf3oc6IAqhclgaBgqXN0c-W7fI1ADRev/s1932/Kilauea+Lighthouse.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">A week or so later, our friend Mar messaged us from Colombia that a friend of hers happened to be on Kauai--"and you will love each other!" Mar is like me, a "friend-ta" (a "friend yenta") who loves to bring people together. And she was right, we totally dug Debbie and enjoyed a day on bikes with her along the multiuse path</span><span style="font-family: arial;">. A guy selling coconuts just steps away from the apartment rents out the bikes.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSjuzbbxmcgq0bJS7K2uWHhKi1EQBeCua0gLN8GqylBZVWjCkNIjv2kGPw3Kc1WelI1HgCS0b5OR_QJkpVAa7MAA7qiS6qeRPS-PJGQm8CLmqN8pOqtPHkPGJ3bd-ez5zqbhgKcSeZUSIL/s1923/debbie+and+me+riding+bikes.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1443" data-original-width="1923" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSjuzbbxmcgq0bJS7K2uWHhKi1EQBeCua0gLN8GqylBZVWjCkNIjv2kGPw3Kc1WelI1HgCS0b5OR_QJkpVAa7MAA7qiS6qeRPS-PJGQm8CLmqN8pOqtPHkPGJ3bd-ez5zqbhgKcSeZUSIL/w400-h300/debbie+and+me+riding+bikes.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">With Debbie on the Kapa'a Multiuse Path<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I had another day with Debbie, joining her and her friend Kim at <a href="http://www.summitpacific.com/kauai/puu-poa-beach.html" target="_blank">Pu'u Poa</a> for a snorkel amongst the healthiest coral I'd seen yet--and the most array of fish and turtles. Debbie has traveled, lived and worked all over the world. She's writing a book. I feel like we could hang out together for two weeks and never stop talking.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1287" data-original-width="1930" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqZyN88i__hdq0oE3iVLCBeHOFs8AbPPHAkw3tAKbJsu0lWRO-DG8hV2bwTUeVJc6J2d8XfecR0jB417qDSBlaqgHAu-OdedhwExvo-T3DQWBMxvyNPQ1hurAXrn8r3bWEg14f-2dVP0Ne/w400-h266/joel+and+zan.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">With Zan and Joel</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqZyN88i__hdq0oE3iVLCBeHOFs8AbPPHAkw3tAKbJsu0lWRO-DG8hV2bwTUeVJc6J2d8XfecR0jB417qDSBlaqgHAu-OdedhwExvo-T3DQWBMxvyNPQ1hurAXrn8r3bWEg14f-2dVP0Ne/s1930/joel+and+zan.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Turned out that meeting up with people would become the theme of our time in Kauai. We were thrilled to get a message that our friends Zan and Joel were coming to the island. We hiked with them on the beautiful </span><a href="https://www.alltrails.com/trail/hawaii/kauai/kuilau-ridge-trail" style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;" target="_blank">Kuilau Ridge Trail</a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">, explored the stunning </span><a href="https://ntbg.org/gardens/limahuli/" style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;" target="_blank">Limahuli Garden & Preserve</a><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">, swam on Haena beach, and enjoyed some beach-and-pool time at their lovely resort. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimZ6RdizfAOB0ehug1PhFiCaX_szevCeg_BmmI3NTbTEJJDcBe7D1yMQCrnWzGhccNWdHiVqVKGefHCdjmwt-9I69Cdnf_F67Rx7FOJmzju1y4CGDXa1g_JEi5C59gtA60DYxV8A_TzlPa/w400-h300/Kuilau+ridge+trail2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Dave and Joel on the Kuilau Ridge Trail</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimZ6RdizfAOB0ehug1PhFiCaX_szevCeg_BmmI3NTbTEJJDcBe7D1yMQCrnWzGhccNWdHiVqVKGefHCdjmwt-9I69Cdnf_F67Rx7FOJmzju1y4CGDXa1g_JEi5C59gtA60DYxV8A_TzlPa/s960/Kuilau+ridge+trail2.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">One evening we met for dinner at Lava Lava Beach Club. We got married 9 years ago at the first <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=lava+lava" target="_blank">Lava Lava</a> on the Big Island. What a joy to experience the other one with this couple that I feel blessed to call dear friends. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwjQYMT8k-x8usxN_SvUi-TiZt7hd1kmtw-HnQ-7Ak_bVX-OSmjwvArFaBafnQRLs70RSEYflpGnSWxGJD9HTKhHrdk-wDdVjRN5nrW0PX-sNV8SC31_GWnQZgzYwbtRaJ3TPfEim256r/w400-h300/lavalava.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lava Lava offered blackened tofu in place of ahi. Delish.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzwjQYMT8k-x8usxN_SvUi-TiZt7hd1kmtw-HnQ-7Ak_bVX-OSmjwvArFaBafnQRLs70RSEYflpGnSWxGJD9HTKhHrdk-wDdVjRN5nrW0PX-sNV8SC31_GWnQZgzYwbtRaJ3TPfEim256r/s960/lavalava.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We also enjoyed a day at Anini Beach with our friends Michele and Robbie who live on the island. They are new parents to Anders, whom we were thrilled to meet. Michele's parents also joined us. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="663" data-original-width="960" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKL7DZvK_1F2HYfK46lfiJtZ94JnNGMgg3_UJajx0m_QQJoH-cifw-zyOd6KXE-RpdmmwilNJIp9psSJNhhyxviYy92I5nUKqM18CzSkY5HiDgDzc6yOv15ZtzBcJsLp4HYYAfp0PrjhZ/w400-h276/michele+and+Knox.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Michele and Knox</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKL7DZvK_1F2HYfK46lfiJtZ94JnNGMgg3_UJajx0m_QQJoH-cifw-zyOd6KXE-RpdmmwilNJIp9psSJNhhyxviYy92I5nUKqM18CzSkY5HiDgDzc6yOv15ZtzBcJsLp4HYYAfp0PrjhZ/s960/michele+and+Knox.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="798" data-original-width="960" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3vQkKz1RHjuDGuYaw0KYmsxpqg75dS4dGDuQ8I6Fa0jlXCKyV_fS7_Q_wtlvIloc5toJPgMJmztDTf0XOwdCOk6bg_Yb7gy9LmYi2sI1MVY2_FGz6nDKcA_p-kYPa3RxUw9VBEIwROfvI/w400-h333/robbie+and+anders.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Robbie and Anders<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3vQkKz1RHjuDGuYaw0KYmsxpqg75dS4dGDuQ8I6Fa0jlXCKyV_fS7_Q_wtlvIloc5toJPgMJmztDTf0XOwdCOk6bg_Yb7gy9LmYi2sI1MVY2_FGz6nDKcA_p-kYPa3RxUw9VBEIwROfvI/s960/robbie+and+anders.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">For a small island, Kauai has a lot to offer. We did a slew of other hikes, waterfall viewings, and snorkel trips. Our boat to the Napali Coast was canceled due to high seas, but we saw the coast's drama from Waimea Canyon and while snorkeling around the point at </span><a href="https://www.hawaii.com/kauai/beaches/kee/" style="font-family: arial;" target="_blank">Ke'e Beach</a><span style="font-family: arial;">. You have to get a permit to go to Ke'e, and with Dave's persistence checking online, we snagged one.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpC9EUhW3XhrXaCF5Iqr3rVN9lM-eNAnY4Hn1xYadLPOQFC3RCHEWB24H6BJHy4gswlBZLnpjamEd9gvKjV83U1HtdbOPTT8H5pVaoAllm0S531JR7TYWSTbxf9eSyinRXaaerQAgcFTDm/w400-h300/Dave+photograhing+Waimea+canyon.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Dave taking a picture of Waimea Canyon</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpC9EUhW3XhrXaCF5Iqr3rVN9lM-eNAnY4Hn1xYadLPOQFC3RCHEWB24H6BJHy4gswlBZLnpjamEd9gvKjV83U1HtdbOPTT8H5pVaoAllm0S531JR7TYWSTbxf9eSyinRXaaerQAgcFTDm/s1440/Dave+photograhing+Waimea+canyon.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1333" data-original-width="1999" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic0SQwUN81ZcRL52eZQRsoMsFjkrE5MAhUDhmn55_NJw0peNWtMefIhr94oK3nn3WY_QzP38i0BNbCR0-A9jKPAOs2Lq0nwBf6PNFmYy8l9T4ye0z_N664jwld-WI8Uh-tTGkPp3Ff4oox/w400-h266/wailua+falls.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Wailua Falls<br /><br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic0SQwUN81ZcRL52eZQRsoMsFjkrE5MAhUDhmn55_NJw0peNWtMefIhr94oK3nn3WY_QzP38i0BNbCR0-A9jKPAOs2Lq0nwBf6PNFmYy8l9T4ye0z_N664jwld-WI8Uh-tTGkPp3Ff4oox/s1999/wailua+falls.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyYz0KiPRTswwJiWRcdeEQkQtBr2AqH5H_SzTkTg_IE-y_LUARZV7caCXc8-zzlqQJBcRCTruqeAz-epYQvP0dn7SZ31eVM5nvscm2p5TDeJS6qr5Z_K2-qHYksXjfcLKzH9HKLDV694RE/s1728/turtle+anini.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyYz0KiPRTswwJiWRcdeEQkQtBr2AqH5H_SzTkTg_IE-y_LUARZV7caCXc8-zzlqQJBcRCTruqeAz-epYQvP0dn7SZ31eVM5nvscm2p5TDeJS6qr5Z_K2-qHYksXjfcLKzH9HKLDV694RE/w400-h300/turtle+anini.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It's always thrilling to swim with honu.<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"></span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWJa_D5j4JugIw6Rlfpr7s3suQeF8Z5xJkWuQeFgLbCDG3za_3ypgV88i2LDFCM1kaUazafx5CF2azGi0ZuvkOdgj90Ykyry2VNFFJrFK3lyO4aRrOWlam_hh_Bfbu9XClnxGe0cgHe9u1/w400-h300/kee+snorkle.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">fish at Ke'e Beach<br /><br /><br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWJa_D5j4JugIw6Rlfpr7s3suQeF8Z5xJkWuQeFgLbCDG3za_3ypgV88i2LDFCM1kaUazafx5CF2azGi0ZuvkOdgj90Ykyry2VNFFJrFK3lyO4aRrOWlam_hh_Bfbu9XClnxGe0cgHe9u1/s1728/kee+snorkle.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDcVpXT1Zq6unLfHOY8IDbGBA5PneVxx9RpORVwL6-eNShWlmoYSmJsVKJJqTsblF8bIyfUXd8VkjC6SWMPAxxQ5PwZKh9EICtencJsLRuEq2-EyEcLH_Y6B861Axtv-RMRz_Ye5F0_ePh/w400-h300/mermaid.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">mermaid in her environment</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span></span><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibEQpbTLZlqlYLGx48kbPM0Pbm435qznM6AwF1x6PGnKo8k_dy0Nve7Z8ZZGVWBb9No8NeZrkTj0Mc8Y9LFaQVtb4RNqy2cCBf9w_X7zyv7k0ZdVBv_shHHhzM-c8EKetbAOjiZfo22qth/w400-h300/Hoopii+Falls+trail.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ho'opi'i Falls Hike</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibEQpbTLZlqlYLGx48kbPM0Pbm435qznM6AwF1x6PGnKo8k_dy0Nve7Z8ZZGVWBb9No8NeZrkTj0Mc8Y9LFaQVtb4RNqy2cCBf9w_X7zyv7k0ZdVBv_shHHhzM-c8EKetbAOjiZfo22qth/s960/Hoopii+Falls+trail.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We spent a lot of time on the apartment's lanai, did yoga, went to the Kapa'a Farmer's Market, and popped into a bookstore on one of our drives. Some hot afternoons we'd walk down the multiuse path to find a calm spot to take a dip in the ocean.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2AuMDza_ZxqHmHU3bHjy_wAHZC-CvJYrqv3FKKIGvn35kotp8Zkc65FFNglIrA_5XgIXFbb0v0oDP-f_BqGraZfurDM99eIlOLu1OHRezt0XpbsfFmRtdHoU196ThKPGqpTcWV0_ZBdEm/w400-h300/talk+story+bookstore+hanapepe.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.talkstorybookstore.com/" target="_blank">Talk Story </a>was my happy place</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2AuMDza_ZxqHmHU3bHjy_wAHZC-CvJYrqv3FKKIGvn35kotp8Zkc65FFNglIrA_5XgIXFbb0v0oDP-f_BqGraZfurDM99eIlOLu1OHRezt0XpbsfFmRtdHoU196ThKPGqpTcWV0_ZBdEm/s1440/talk+story+bookstore+hanapepe.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Yes, this place was a dream. But the last week I got sick. Being a slow-mad can be more challenging when illness is involved. We were forced to scrap an international trip that we'd spent months planning. Unravelling all of that took some doing...but that's the nature of this life we live. We have to be flexible. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Our Southwest flight to California was half-empty, so we had a row to ourselves, a blessing since I didn't feel so great. After some medical intervention and healing time, I'm feeling better. And it didn't take long for us to score <a href="https://www.trustedhousesitters.com/refer/RAF140357/?utm_medium=refer-a-friend&utm_campaign=refer-a-friend&utm_source=copy-link" target="_blank">several housesits</a> in California (more on that next post).</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Based on my effusive updates on Facebook, someone asked me if I wanted to live in Kauai. I thought about it and realized I don't want to live anywhere permanently right now. I want to live wherever I am. Variety is my life spice. Amazingly, Dave feels the same. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="1728" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhebzrkVtd0xhYUopkAC6GxEnGX9VxF4v8fPYa7GHYEThQpu48XsKx7oKHW59Os4diCljfghnfAHI8q9H-kD7UXUzqgKDHGOIBryw4DEV8WTTyRwaDt-r6y1x_y-zoiMFZ8yOMv_Xr1Y1pA/w400-h300/anini+us.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">post-snorkel happiness</span></td></tr></tbody></table></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div></div><div><div><br /></div></div></div></div>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-44184772109959349982021-06-15T21:25:00.002-07:002023-12-31T17:59:19.318-08:00Hawaii Time...and Time to Move On<div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5F9-xaeZhx0NLq7CahgBRV8uKyLG3Sa3ly9U3doTcYBEGGKp68jqdogH3XtAiSMOiv3658_A6M10SzJBBr0AAZ0xu1mu4AC_jZre4Ubzp3smRQLJNG5ttlakxajdOFVqHShihrL87IJzw/s2000/on+the+deck.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5F9-xaeZhx0NLq7CahgBRV8uKyLG3Sa3ly9U3doTcYBEGGKp68jqdogH3XtAiSMOiv3658_A6M10SzJBBr0AAZ0xu1mu4AC_jZre4Ubzp3smRQLJNG5ttlakxajdOFVqHShihrL87IJzw/w400-h300/on+the+deck.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Geckos noshing on bananas on the lanai<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div></div><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">We leave the Big Island tomorrow, and there's that feeling again. The one that always accompanies moving on. A bittersweet heightened awareness of what we've been living, and what we're leaving behind--combined with excitement about what's to come. </span><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg7tXyAmAQ-5fY5cU5i7DW_OutsTEIonAqQnwAB02lSq8fFwCR8u1ZsMZQ_XdKZft23cUpLHSanXrzLqjW3bgA6DbNbLqvOGPq6jk-NRXTTKuD6fUquGHYW2gXGrYdFid2zPGZCTieoi65/s960/hawaii+house.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg7tXyAmAQ-5fY5cU5i7DW_OutsTEIonAqQnwAB02lSq8fFwCR8u1ZsMZQ_XdKZft23cUpLHSanXrzLqjW3bgA6DbNbLqvOGPq6jk-NRXTTKuD6fUquGHYW2gXGrYdFid2zPGZCTieoi65/w400-h300/hawaii+house.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It feels like living in a tree house.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">We've spent two months housesitting in Leilani Estates. The home, the neighborhood, the animals, the yard--it's now all so familiar. Homey. The little town, Pahoa, has become the place we go to for tasty, authentic Vietnamese food (at Pho 19) and coconut-based ice cream that just happens to be vegan (at Nicoco).</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Ys7slRDS1ZWMbA4xEJWQh2Q4Ga5h6ylW4kx6X3Y3x51RQX8hVUrhCQr7ZLwz2Zvvowt-puUAnQGHe1knomUEhYVTwezWrIh7VHpUCPt6WfqZKPI7HOgork5OA4xJIrAIen5blMslxaEQ/s1440/jamie+food.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Ys7slRDS1ZWMbA4xEJWQh2Q4Ga5h6ylW4kx6X3Y3x51RQX8hVUrhCQr7ZLwz2Zvvowt-puUAnQGHe1knomUEhYVTwezWrIh7VHpUCPt6WfqZKPI7HOgork5OA4xJIrAIen5blMslxaEQ/w400-h300/jamie+food.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jamie & Chris, the homeowners, bought all this beautiful food for us!</td></tr></tbody></table><div></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">As slow travelers, we're always growing roots and then...uprooting. Eight years ago when we started living this way, I'd thought that launching out into the world was "leaving home." Now it seems we "leave home" over and over again.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3C43DBKEM-PpCA16-4UNBGJr610ShxQPgqPnCi2hOCNo960059BNAdWYQdqOw81QFhiufxj4r2IqFTSMAbIovsARB9Vt698ZOqG1pHIEN5ZcGCsJGCVo66XP23kBar2upFaXkdSwwxnjD/s787/billy+and+dutch.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="442" data-original-width="787" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3C43DBKEM-PpCA16-4UNBGJr610ShxQPgqPnCi2hOCNo960059BNAdWYQdqOw81QFhiufxj4r2IqFTSMAbIovsARB9Vt698ZOqG1pHIEN5ZcGCsJGCVo66XP23kBar2upFaXkdSwwxnjD/w400-h225/billy+and+dutch.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Dutch and Billy</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Home here means Duke, a big lug of love. And two funny cats, Billy and Bosco. It means hanging out in this beautiful space doing the usual: cooking, reading, yoga, laundry. Dave killed it with the yard work, buzzing around on the riding lawn mower, cleaning the pool, picking papayas and bananas. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3k076pRl4B_5S019WAqvTBJnpq2mskl8dSWp5mw7_q_UoqsIvBaiphwj2bUUYJrG2N1cJpceQkXyHDRJRXAybF3s5E3IWvtuziUA_jEWgy827rknLhBLhRnSLeiikhnKJPPMWd4utmij8/s960/dave+on+property.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3k076pRl4B_5S019WAqvTBJnpq2mskl8dSWp5mw7_q_UoqsIvBaiphwj2bUUYJrG2N1cJpceQkXyHDRJRXAybF3s5E3IWvtuziUA_jEWgy827rknLhBLhRnSLeiikhnKJPPMWd4utmij8/w400-h300/dave+on+property.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Dave in one section of the house's beautiful & vast yard</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">I was on shovel-the-poop duty (yes, this is a glamorous life), worked on my writing/editing and Spanish--and I met up with a group of neighborhood women for morning walks. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVYmANLjYNCtR0h1Eeksxg7gBP5bS5FSkskPIjVOBpyKGrzTvEuU7Jtis5Ys_BshtWDa9yixGeYYSKxy-6GcAc8fA19qzYw5kVaTylppO9NIGUZnsi6pYaHAcFi7_OQy0EGDBPGohGszy/s2000/ukes.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAVYmANLjYNCtR0h1Eeksxg7gBP5bS5FSkskPIjVOBpyKGrzTvEuU7Jtis5Ys_BshtWDa9yixGeYYSKxy-6GcAc8fA19qzYw5kVaTylppO9NIGUZnsi6pYaHAcFi7_OQy0EGDBPGohGszy/w400-h300/ukes.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We played for 3 hours!</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Turned out, those women played ukuleles, so we had a jam session here on the lanai. We also met up with a number of friends. Seems like lots of people we know or had met online either lived here or happened to be passing through.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-nQS6Ud7nkELA1Mu7o8xaj8a3yeyOykQqYooK0cnzW5gzV7vd6CjoaEG5NrPADq1g7KE6qbi7YGui9YjKA6iWWLyIeJyNU0rzw4oKt01PG8PeFGqw6T0aOTPWJe47moHZL4trt3W8I_JV/s960/mayra+and+carol.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-nQS6Ud7nkELA1Mu7o8xaj8a3yeyOykQqYooK0cnzW5gzV7vd6CjoaEG5NrPADq1g7KE6qbi7YGui9YjKA6iWWLyIeJyNU0rzw4oKt01PG8PeFGqw6T0aOTPWJe47moHZL4trt3W8I_JV/w400-h300/mayra+and+carol.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">With Mayra & Carol...just a few weeks after hanging out with them in <a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2021/02/our-nomadic-winter.html" target="_blank">Utah</a>!</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">The Puna area of Hawaii is a dramatic place of extremes. Three years ago, Kilauea erupted spilling lava over hundreds of homes--some just a block away. Steam from the vents still drifts to the sky. Sometimes we feel a sleepiness take over, the volcanic gasses acting on us like Oz's poppy field on Dorothy.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXfsKYcCV8ItrkiybP0pjdOqoFTZRZsV2OAKRNh_myNNLXi64AsHODsDKa5EA9i4nyUva3J8HIanRTxZBmL1WcqzQ3DZ5OwsREOcUZnIuxVj7ra2hKSUnKWRG4AxRbcsuWrVkvb9X-5X0m/s960/Leinlani+lava.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXfsKYcCV8ItrkiybP0pjdOqoFTZRZsV2OAKRNh_myNNLXi64AsHODsDKa5EA9i4nyUva3J8HIanRTxZBmL1WcqzQ3DZ5OwsREOcUZnIuxVj7ra2hKSUnKWRG4AxRbcsuWrVkvb9X-5X0m/w400-h300/Leinlani+lava.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Lava flow over the road</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTRXrKG8LyJvCiHWyYt_orjGZsjiPBTFbptMhBNZAGSVKby4BNNjt56l7rH8xVDPAct3x8nfk2zFEEFARS8OOCOn7BEriNT80Rq7VtJ9DembRyPMwEZ-9xAkI3T_GGR_WnEWNbZoERhnk4/s2000/babette+and+me.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTRXrKG8LyJvCiHWyYt_orjGZsjiPBTFbptMhBNZAGSVKby4BNNjt56l7rH8xVDPAct3x8nfk2zFEEFARS8OOCOn7BEriNT80Rq7VtJ9DembRyPMwEZ-9xAkI3T_GGR_WnEWNbZoERhnk4/w400-h300/babette+and+me.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We walked on the 2018 flow with Babette & Rich, <br />the couple <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2019/07/healing-in-hawaii.html" target="_blank">we housesat for on this island</a> two years ago.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Green-drenched rainforest butts up against a moonscape of black lava. You'll be walking in the sun then hear a roaring sound in the distance: it's rain approaching, and in minutes it's pouring buckets. The air will be still and warm one minute, and the next wind whips up, pulling fronds off the palms. Birds call out in beautiful, eerie whistles and song, and cane frogs in the dozens pop out onto the driveway every evening. At night the lullaby is a shrilling cricket-like chorus of coqui frogs.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">While living in this eccentric land, we celebrated Dave's birthday, walking through the incredible Tropical Botanical Garden in Hilo and eating great vegan food at the Booch Bar. The kombucha on tap is divine.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKbuEbmmqcs9pG2YqoQv2YHHFbtRLTYf4eAHgD6htj6U-ZuCKc3uT7xNkvTGqSBr4l3m4g8KHi9hV3O7CVL2AlvcGGYGARTi7iYNWtRPYWdZIPs9KsqHhTPGWZxG1jdg7rdtzMrw19Csqm/s960/daves+birthday+and+conscious+culture+Booch+Bar.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKbuEbmmqcs9pG2YqoQv2YHHFbtRLTYf4eAHgD6htj6U-ZuCKc3uT7xNkvTGqSBr4l3m4g8KHi9hV3O7CVL2AlvcGGYGARTi7iYNWtRPYWdZIPs9KsqHhTPGWZxG1jdg7rdtzMrw19Csqm/w400-h300/daves+birthday+and+conscious+culture+Booch+Bar.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">We hiked on two volcanos (Kiluaua and Mauna Loa), walked across black sand beaches and through parks and into lava tubes, saw rainbows and waterfalls and <a href="https://www.nps.gov/havo/learn/nature/lava-trees.htm" target="_blank">lava trees</a>, and took leisurely drives just to gaze at all the beauty. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_hUwGvLL-wFkBdifog0FqspM5IpOc5nVYUXBTyEaBT_pG95MiO7XXXI_OHZLLDJICJ4jrJC4sU_waN7NhKh-A97NU9Q6GTxbP0QVqFKEDr0TBYRJSSUjWGKqTAriflmcr31apcN09rzsR/s960/cape+kumuhaki+black+sand+beach+lighthouse.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_hUwGvLL-wFkBdifog0FqspM5IpOc5nVYUXBTyEaBT_pG95MiO7XXXI_OHZLLDJICJ4jrJC4sU_waN7NhKh-A97NU9Q6GTxbP0QVqFKEDr0TBYRJSSUjWGKqTAriflmcr31apcN09rzsR/w400-h300/cape+kumuhaki+black+sand+beach+lighthouse.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Cape Kumuhaki black sand beach...about a 4 mile hike. <br />We were the only ones there.<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFIgSuMCDn0DCAOInH2HnSPyiJUgL8CPkUSW-AdePrOERT_qKo9YLuscWMoGbtD5hIVk38qcTBCL1CH7FJAaXfeaUWHhalD8bBPcq-t5Kaj0pjAzpZW51WrmGYVVIR2OKpK8AE8Lx6FoFZ/s960/Dave+hike+on+mauna+loa.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFIgSuMCDn0DCAOInH2HnSPyiJUgL8CPkUSW-AdePrOERT_qKo9YLuscWMoGbtD5hIVk38qcTBCL1CH7FJAaXfeaUWHhalD8bBPcq-t5Kaj0pjAzpZW51WrmGYVVIR2OKpK8AE8Lx6FoFZ/w400-h300/Dave+hike+on+mauna+loa.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Hiking Muana Loa</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgORLdRi358eRIk14mrwerGdKfYBlgK1MchqHRifTxZgtqJtXdQWJEJQsxTMGGVnOwYbCKp4E1qXKKxAstMeM7-x2W_sDkgW2y9ah1yGu5Q6vfUzqkARysViJXSolEC-KGLdDRjFR_QuBLJ/s960/Kaumana+caves.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgORLdRi358eRIk14mrwerGdKfYBlgK1MchqHRifTxZgtqJtXdQWJEJQsxTMGGVnOwYbCKp4E1qXKKxAstMeM7-x2W_sDkgW2y9ah1yGu5Q6vfUzqkARysViJXSolEC-KGLdDRjFR_QuBLJ/w400-h300/Kaumana+caves.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Kaumana Caves</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxlw8sL38ZZvTPUn_VFhTJUj_LRL5pyDL7tTwomlqdND6x87H5lNW9mPC7Qlds4A3XvSVdTlisxxVcELAiz-JiPT6aOD6AebItXE7PWuqNDpz-OIe-6xMsd6pZrGLfVnbstYZceoOo-PgW/s960/hilo+park.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxlw8sL38ZZvTPUn_VFhTJUj_LRL5pyDL7tTwomlqdND6x87H5lNW9mPC7Qlds4A3XvSVdTlisxxVcELAiz-JiPT6aOD6AebItXE7PWuqNDpz-OIe-6xMsd6pZrGLfVnbstYZceoOo-PgW/w400-h300/hilo+park.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Kalakaua Park<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqREgMuUHxLn820F7FLiqSfNY7sCDDTwTzT56uUxQQGskZE07D8BDtWnv00T8hpQ4v7pcQIJdWR4jQPfCDjEFfeHKH1ZCn04SUW3taUhDAF4ngfpn_NPxrtLIKIbEL7qsVReUxCddnFkBx/s960/kil+iki.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="778" data-original-width="960" height="324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqREgMuUHxLn820F7FLiqSfNY7sCDDTwTzT56uUxQQGskZE07D8BDtWnv00T8hpQ4v7pcQIJdWR4jQPfCDjEFfeHKH1ZCn04SUW3taUhDAF4ngfpn_NPxrtLIKIbEL7qsVReUxCddnFkBx/w400-h324/kil+iki.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Hiking Kilauea Iki</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidhQN7blRV8cFu3xVC1IuN6hlOS4tRfAkZJ5tst-qHCvd5OoBG5mlQzUz5CMjPjWVJuqh_deZ2-D9Z9xY017f-hu64etxWULxRiGF5bbcYVThwPEhWfaUzyIRVlIIWIo46vwDlBfLSIOYl/s960/rainbow+falls.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidhQN7blRV8cFu3xVC1IuN6hlOS4tRfAkZJ5tst-qHCvd5OoBG5mlQzUz5CMjPjWVJuqh_deZ2-D9Z9xY017f-hu64etxWULxRiGF5bbcYVThwPEhWfaUzyIRVlIIWIo46vwDlBfLSIOYl/w400-h300/rainbow+falls.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Rainbow Falls</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><div><span style="font-size: large;">Saturdays we enjoyed the Kalapana Farmer's Market for its relaxed, happy people and its great vegan food, serenaded by a guy on a guitar playing Hawaiian music. This is the spot of the famous Uncle Roberts, where we enjoyed live music one evening in the open-air venue. Hawaii had just relaxed its mask requirements that day. It was sweet to see everyone's smiling faces.</span></div><div style="font-size: large;"><br /></div><div style="font-size: large;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7JPklIpGq0xYV2Se-IHYWfts8RjjRHyDjWDTha41HKX9lOuf-uJ0Qgk2ZHqNDn2KTfrVmyeL1vze3TIxkH10t3swJkwLDw4UC_5Zbkn3p_EgrV2T5CMHdVGmL2uploQzDJoleBm5skdgI/s960/me+with+rainbow+at+Kalapana+Black+Sand+Beach+music.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7JPklIpGq0xYV2Se-IHYWfts8RjjRHyDjWDTha41HKX9lOuf-uJ0Qgk2ZHqNDn2KTfrVmyeL1vze3TIxkH10t3swJkwLDw4UC_5Zbkn3p_EgrV2T5CMHdVGmL2uploQzDJoleBm5skdgI/w400-h300/me+with+rainbow+at+Kalapana+Black+Sand+Beach+music.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kalapana rainbow</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: medium;" /></div></div><div style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">As usual, this housesit has been emblematic of our lives: explorers who are "home" wherever we happen to be. This house, by the way, used to be owned by the parents of Guenther Fraulob, Rock Hudson's friend. There are pictures of them here. They remind me as we get ready to leave that impermanence is life.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5TEUrSM4_-fpKCd56Buxp9RXR93V6nW13y1GCXZ8Uh8cd_y8too6lIq8WCflt2l-XPXD5BA_E0aWETBsPdltqFiK4tdJvgYniMQEf9Ekuxefwe58pEY7rr1ouSqGeRu1B-_uAT2fgDkOk/s960/Rock+Hudson.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5TEUrSM4_-fpKCd56Buxp9RXR93V6nW13y1GCXZ8Uh8cd_y8too6lIq8WCflt2l-XPXD5BA_E0aWETBsPdltqFiK4tdJvgYniMQEf9Ekuxefwe58pEY7rr1ouSqGeRu1B-_uAT2fgDkOk/w400-h300/Rock+Hudson.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-34636493613995578232021-02-15T12:59:00.005-08:002021-02-18T06:55:39.003-08:00Our Nomadic Winter<p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The body's ability to heal continues to amaze me. Four months after </span><a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2020/10/angels-everywhere.html" style="font-family: verdana;" target="_blank">falling in Mexico</a><span style="font-family: verdana;"> and severely </span><a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2020/10/more-than-our-bodies.html" style="font-family: verdana;" target="_blank">spraining </a><span style="font-family: verdana;">my ankle and foot--and not being able to put weight on it for a long time--I was able to do this:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_t6FyN97tHkkqmONnMHIzNXl4dF1o3mFP1BT9vk4A-JrxctsVG8SWuh28_6vdSkiVebhyphenhyphenmXA23yHLeWD2_y06gt2xvCy7_wzrtrIDuFHo7innFsTbFLrPU-EdDwhLpaji9IwiZoaoXpc9/s1817/bme+skiing.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1211" data-original-width="1817" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_t6FyN97tHkkqmONnMHIzNXl4dF1o3mFP1BT9vk4A-JrxctsVG8SWuh28_6vdSkiVebhyphenhyphenmXA23yHLeWD2_y06gt2xvCy7_wzrtrIDuFHo7innFsTbFLrPU-EdDwhLpaji9IwiZoaoXpc9/w400-h266/bme+skiing.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">skiing Brighton, Utah</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">It was the first time in three years we were on the slopes. Initially, I was scared. I'm envious of those who are totally at ease downhill skiing. (I didn't learn to ski until my late 40s.) But after two or three runs, I was reminded why I love it. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">It's an invigorating contrast to be in the cold mountains after having spent 10 months in Mexico. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVF0VygJZzr0HY2IttE2Yyv-BNagl_E9xq92om8bnvOHTzZMgSUL7v2YysEBQd6Yhzzt1poD-8wSmcbq1pnuYPrZH6XNFAqw0BUNCSdVla8T0bED3tUasU4OGUooEUWgr7hOCD-bV0DAov/s2000/baja+lunch+spot.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVF0VygJZzr0HY2IttE2Yyv-BNagl_E9xq92om8bnvOHTzZMgSUL7v2YysEBQd6Yhzzt1poD-8wSmcbq1pnuYPrZH6XNFAqw0BUNCSdVla8T0bED3tUasU4OGUooEUWgr7hOCD-bV0DAov/w400-h300/baja+lunch+spot.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">lunch stop during our 5-day Baja-to-California drive</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">We'd had mixed feelings about traveling during the time of the pandemic, but we'd already accepted a housesit. Also, the clock on our visas was ticking (even though we'd extended them once). To our pleasant surprise, it was pretty easy to go where we needed to and keep relatively safe.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04rtcRXXAmCdm3kI8NwwlZNZntvgveCu6PJ9DrYTQT_1RQHkpv7vqNJShSNiVmXORQdIDQ2f-H_slqj4-mi8YHGiJWG79_pib8s-KLkAj_YyQ7zK-oNh0-v6TC36nFVad8giQ8TmAVvJk/s2000/bignacio+springs+kayak.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04rtcRXXAmCdm3kI8NwwlZNZntvgveCu6PJ9DrYTQT_1RQHkpv7vqNJShSNiVmXORQdIDQ2f-H_slqj4-mi8YHGiJWG79_pib8s-KLkAj_YyQ7zK-oNh0-v6TC36nFVad8giQ8TmAVvJk/w400-h277/bignacio+springs+kayak.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">San Ignacio springs</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">We left in November to drive up Baja. We've done the drive multiple times, but this was the first time we stopped at San Ignacio springs. And we are so glad we did. We stayed in a lovely little yurt and kayaked the peaceful springs, seeing all kinds of beautiful wildlife.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Instead of heading right to L.A., we spent a week in Palm Desert. Exploring Joshua Tree was the highlight.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2FBV_MeS9ZMPtw8yCQSyQZDukg9PxkS280c9HNuJpYFRL5jLZq4avVW4RadyVAus1Womz_xUirD4S038PVTuJtmHcLu2dvfvRe8eWOWl9_bbE4YxqYsr_sOpTYhdanJo3LWkgov854G1Y/s1900/bjt.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1266" data-original-width="1900" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2FBV_MeS9ZMPtw8yCQSyQZDukg9PxkS280c9HNuJpYFRL5jLZq4avVW4RadyVAus1Womz_xUirD4S038PVTuJtmHcLu2dvfvRe8eWOWl9_bbE4YxqYsr_sOpTYhdanJo3LWkgov854G1Y/w400-h266/bjt.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joshua trees in Joshua Tree National Park</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The L.A. housessit was in a gorgeous home in Pacific Palisades. We did a quick masked turnover with the owners. We'd hoped to be able to see our many friends in So Cal, but L.A. was on lockdown. Still, we were able to squeeze in a few socially-distanced outdoor visits.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1cG2RZoLmFSRjsPEStTB5xNJNI-QQVl6WhF0_OPrTDORWxWJiuKNQmsKC71ebSjN47rpuJqnH0YxhI1Ost1BUqS_cyka9yPqRQnD4UrAd6lMt_6C39tFyAqw1SbjycgECnt3VADFAjghm/s2000/bpp+house.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1cG2RZoLmFSRjsPEStTB5xNJNI-QQVl6WhF0_OPrTDORWxWJiuKNQmsKC71ebSjN47rpuJqnH0YxhI1Ost1BUqS_cyka9yPqRQnD4UrAd6lMt_6C39tFyAqw1SbjycgECnt3VADFAjghm/w400-h300/bpp+house.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pacific Palisades housesit</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2FqfjYjHk5QucUor9_s0txDxMtwUQFrGjeV03ZGnIpg4xeXcQs2jW5dbWKs5hLSWAd2a71hEVKeyZOppXuQjupukx_ywB_V5J3ePFAwnVzpfMwoy-LcLL6tit1aj5jTjYfDtC0LLeoHGs/s2000/bnancy+in+la.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2FqfjYjHk5QucUor9_s0txDxMtwUQFrGjeV03ZGnIpg4xeXcQs2jW5dbWKs5hLSWAd2a71hEVKeyZOppXuQjupukx_ywB_V5J3ePFAwnVzpfMwoy-LcLL6tit1aj5jTjYfDtC0LLeoHGs/w400-h300/bnancy+in+la.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">visiting my longtime friend Nancy in L.A.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The physical therapy for my foot injury included beach strolls and easy hikes on some of the gorgeous nearby trails. We also spent time in the magical hot tub under the trees in the back yard, did yoga, spent time with Izzy, and read like the book maniacs we are. <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/195179.Kate_Evans" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> reported that I read 74 books last year. Dave doesn't keep track, but I wouldn't be surprised if he read at least that many. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirQEy9Mfae-C_2KCpFb5Y5VC3UPcCdeuHik712kQq_5OKnd1ddU4eRPoD6nMYQG0hpWvVPgK6AMjqpk54A9cfFxIbOjCb3hXoqLxuDQ1RwduP0DPs-JZToxCuuWSQaliY1gdDiqJy0yVht/s1080/bdave+with+izzy.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="857" data-original-width="1080" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirQEy9Mfae-C_2KCpFb5Y5VC3UPcCdeuHik712kQq_5OKnd1ddU4eRPoD6nMYQG0hpWvVPgK6AMjqpk54A9cfFxIbOjCb3hXoqLxuDQ1RwduP0DPs-JZToxCuuWSQaliY1gdDiqJy0yVht/w400-h303/bdave+with+izzy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Something else that took up my time was yet another medical issue that was painful and mysterious. After seeing a number of docs, I finally found one who quickly solved it. I'd assumed he was old school because he was at least in his 70s and his hearing wasn't so great. But I kicked myself for that judgment when his prescription of yoga, standing rather that sitting while writing, and cognitive adjustments WORKED! I was grateful for the reminder that advanced age can mean great wisdom. I thank him.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFlUAfUpfKjOvtwXykkrmwvXVrL9abx0s4idXbE2ICf_OcaPVcpAK6gsWehF3j35A_-UqUH5vcLoSlIbYAg5JH26UuTtfaeMWuGSCPee9Mgi3EOzSXi8vTw7sysedZLsudzJfiQ4iKk0pA/s2000/bPP+hot+tub.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFlUAfUpfKjOvtwXykkrmwvXVrL9abx0s4idXbE2ICf_OcaPVcpAK6gsWehF3j35A_-UqUH5vcLoSlIbYAg5JH26UuTtfaeMWuGSCPee9Mgi3EOzSXi8vTw7sysedZLsudzJfiQ4iKk0pA/w400-h301/bPP+hot+tub.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">magic hot tub</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Meanwhile, the homeowners decided to come back a week early, which would have been awkward for us if not for their thoughtful decision to pay for an Airbnb for us. We chose Los Osos on the central coast. I grew up in California but had never been to this sweet spot on the planet. It's dramatically beautiful.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFiwkIYXssW4wKObiz1FiOlgV1IlQzyoKAQoapaemGrwqZ-88jz8f6S3Kko9FUGbTjk5YPZOlFnc7idAiYayUSbQmKn2EL1cv_NBWHvetX-AMiAOFY4n90l6M4qLhaqndtEucVE73Zfrm6/s2000/bus++at+montana+de+oro.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFiwkIYXssW4wKObiz1FiOlgV1IlQzyoKAQoapaemGrwqZ-88jz8f6S3Kko9FUGbTjk5YPZOlFnc7idAiYayUSbQmKn2EL1cv_NBWHvetX-AMiAOFY4n90l6M4qLhaqndtEucVE73Zfrm6/w400-h300/bus++at+montana+de+oro.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking in Montana del Oro on a high ridge overlooking the Pacific Ocean</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmtVLnszHAgPdcn6E3js4bWe2hIVfg7dZq29n2_fpC0vpC1osOSYV6-UTV3369hjzFb9nZ1aa4xt7LfQ0ioJj1zxQ4qnApp7KSWMesLnb_oqqaVn-dmCi38iS4NNIFj1S542Y_UItKqSq4/s1769/bbird2.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1180" data-original-width="1769" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmtVLnszHAgPdcn6E3js4bWe2hIVfg7dZq29n2_fpC0vpC1osOSYV6-UTV3369hjzFb9nZ1aa4xt7LfQ0ioJj1zxQ4qnApp7KSWMesLnb_oqqaVn-dmCi38iS4NNIFj1S542Y_UItKqSq4/w400-h266/bbird2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of Dave's great catches at Sweet Springs Nature Reserve in Los Osos</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"> Our little cottage was my favorite Airbnb ever.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirzWK3y8jTuHcBl05msULPfMRndhunCVbvQ7JSn42pWRkM2TVwob6EzuEqBdxN692pmLdPjZYASNiZg6OM5aTRU6ILcGYXpHypWankvpsaG_XGTeyFU_7D36VjZ4HZhURIiWMKUlYDobZH/s2000/bairbnb.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirzWK3y8jTuHcBl05msULPfMRndhunCVbvQ7JSn42pWRkM2TVwob6EzuEqBdxN692pmLdPjZYASNiZg6OM5aTRU6ILcGYXpHypWankvpsaG_XGTeyFU_7D36VjZ4HZhURIiWMKUlYDobZH/w400-h300/bairbnb.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Airbnb</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">The next week we spent with our friend Mark in San Jose. We all got tested and created a bubble. It was such a joy to be able to hang out together. We watched three nights of the Radiators streamed from New Orleans in an empty Tipitinas--a bittersweet experience since a few years ago we'd been there together to dance to them live with hundreds of others. When the world opens back up, I plan to go to as much live music as possible; I will never again take it for granted.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">It was also great to be able to watch the </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">inauguration</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> together. I loved every minute of it...and was especially moved when Kamala Harris made history.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC58XZCi4anYHogla0IDbqo2rnULeYcgJQNgYEKMeM7ZIecuhqoYsyhHtRH2ksFDgpph5W6-m_m6XTVIpWRFCCC5gRsyccJqLYeA1LOhLAtLteU8UGmsu4CJA4jrcHjqhmDGNgL202Rdhd/s1440/brads.jpg" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1440" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC58XZCi4anYHogla0IDbqo2rnULeYcgJQNgYEKMeM7ZIecuhqoYsyhHtRH2ksFDgpph5W6-m_m6XTVIpWRFCCC5gRsyccJqLYeA1LOhLAtLteU8UGmsu4CJA4jrcHjqhmDGNgL202Rdhd/w400-h300/brads.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">boogying at home</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">At one time we stored a bunch of stuff at Mark's, but on every visit we whittle it down. At this point, it's mainly our ski gear and winter stuff--which we took with us as we drove 11 hours straight to Sandy, Utah for our next housesit. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS3XDPRCHOO-T8uLHzfAHMF64Ka4hRUSHtu_aSI6889vi8SQi-VGHpTyyxv1Cxv7REWhIClFbgc7Vmb-ryG_l23ZPGjTz0r9b9FWZ_J7PRzfuk5TbJ2rVnP6wDRlyx580WA3Z0NGF8FxHP/s960/b3.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS3XDPRCHOO-T8uLHzfAHMF64Ka4hRUSHtu_aSI6889vi8SQi-VGHpTyyxv1Cxv7REWhIClFbgc7Vmb-ryG_l23ZPGjTz0r9b9FWZ_J7PRzfuk5TbJ2rVnP6wDRlyx580WA3Z0NGF8FxHP/w400-h300/b3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dave snowshoeing in Utah</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">We didn't meet the owners in person; we'd done a video walk-through with them, a young couple who were headed to Mexico to give birth to their baby. They also travel with their cat but not their bunny, so Bun Bun is our company, along with three chickens that live in a heated henhouse.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAq0TcJOPh7xDM_08fsmfn9i2k5OL23JHCrwiEm-y-x7kyp3B_CQv-iVsIkJo0gBRJV7jgHe5WASAgtZIwvQs-6ZIp_AbWIfHq4vY3_Ju-PABk4a_zQZkCbXRnU1l8tHOJzkzIJuIWRx0B/s1655/bbunbun.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1103" data-original-width="1655" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAq0TcJOPh7xDM_08fsmfn9i2k5OL23JHCrwiEm-y-x7kyp3B_CQv-iVsIkJo0gBRJV7jgHe5WASAgtZIwvQs-6ZIp_AbWIfHq4vY3_Ju-PABk4a_zQZkCbXRnU1l8tHOJzkzIJuIWRx0B/w400-h266/bbunbun.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bun bun is shy but likes to be petted and fed spinach.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">In the midst of all of this, the novel I co-authored with my friend Mary Janelle Melvin under the pen name Mary-Kate Summers was released with a super sexy cover! I feel that our publisher really *got* the characters with this image.</span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Revolutionary-Kiss-Mary-Kate-Summers-ebook/dp/B08T6R6RX2/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=revolutionary+kiss&qid=1613419213&sr=8-1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHpyqhk3OZz4ETGAiTHUI07OfzPQOpP25UbsEGI5eX8a981R1trTXEjxqsF-2CxSNERPOFpdRMC0rkUmHt4qfCH9Y_0FO8vESd-k4vuwlwNsZHoTF3XCJOMnDtoeDg1cmGSRVEuWm-XlVX/w316-h424/RevKiss+cover.jpg" width="316" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">It was the first time I'd written a historically-based love story, something Janelle has been doing for years. I learned so much in the process and fell in love with the characters and the story. It's wonderful that we're already hearing from readers who feel the same.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I never imagined that the release of this book would coincide with an incredible event: </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">While in the Bay Area, I'd been able to see my sister, Crystal. In the process of packing for her move to San Diego, she came across three manuscripts that my mom had been working on. One of them I remembered reading years ago and always wondered what had happened to it. It's a historical romance that takes place in California during the Gold Rush. I was beyond thrilled when I held it in my hands.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqi8VSH8OL_Ru1kRVTanUaIOPY0KbBmWiooaCuOAhcd9WYN5fmtJiysCsbt2qW9FeE-4l1QrP6wATqb3R8639le9hacI-yKOJanJLwvB9MjDknpFTynM4WVOAhrXIOZXHLrIZQjthSGido/s1440/mom.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1113" data-original-width="1440" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqi8VSH8OL_Ru1kRVTanUaIOPY0KbBmWiooaCuOAhcd9WYN5fmtJiysCsbt2qW9FeE-4l1QrP6wATqb3R8639le9hacI-yKOJanJLwvB9MjDknpFTynM4WVOAhrXIOZXHLrIZQjthSGido/w400-h309/mom.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom editing</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Reading it was a beautiful and bittersweet thing. <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-mothers-day.html" target="_blank">Our mom</a>, who died nine years ago, had dementia and didn't speak for the last year of her life. As I turned the pages, I wet them with my tears as I was reminded of her voice, her intelligence, her humor. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">And what timing. Not only had I just co-written my first historical romance, I'd recently had an<a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2020/11/a-visit-from-mom.html" target="_blank"> incredible dream </a>of her. And now here in my hands was my mom's book in that very genre. It is incomplete and needs work, but the bones of it are strong. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I am in the process of doing a rewrite. When I came across an unnamed character, I named him William. In the next chapter I saw she'd given him the name...William.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">So, she's here. Cheering me on. </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">Cheering us on as we write together. </span><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></p>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-87399681427130617762020-11-21T09:19:00.003-08:002020-11-21T10:45:18.270-08:00A Visit from Mom<p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Last night in my dream, I was browsing in a used bookstore and picked up Elizabeth Barrett Browning's <i><a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Sonnets-from-the-Portuguese" target="_blank">Sonnets from the Portuguese</a>. </i>I'd read it more than 30 years ago in grad school but had little memory of it. I thumbed through the pages and saw notes inside...written in my <i>mother's </i>hand!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">My eyes shot open to the black night. I reached for my Kindle and downloaded the book. I knew there had to be a message in it from Mom, who died eight years ago.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdgTNWbuhrszHmtYXi9FzCSx6zvfc5hF4V-xxk_skt054xvyN6zhx7cPpxLHfvW2OaGgDPv_EpeGopm7dYiftvONKQPkkkmw8Fnrv6Lxq0D25ffqd4-HfvFSSA2zmZP5T0e1KgkDAf9q_7/s640/1958.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="632" data-original-width="640" height="395" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdgTNWbuhrszHmtYXi9FzCSx6zvfc5hF4V-xxk_skt054xvyN6zhx7cPpxLHfvW2OaGgDPv_EpeGopm7dYiftvONKQPkkkmw8Fnrv6Lxq0D25ffqd4-HfvFSSA2zmZP5T0e1KgkDAf9q_7/w400-h395/1958.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom (Arlene), 1958</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Mom, a school nurse, was an avid reader and later in life became a writer of articles and, eventually, romance novels. Our love of the literary profoundly connected us. She read everything I wrote, including my poetry, although poetry wasn't really her thing.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">But I clearly sensed in this vivid dream that she had a message for me in this book of poems. Not just any poems, but those written by a woman she would have admired. Browning (1806-1861) was a prolific writer and social critic who condemned child labor and advocated for women's rights. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi1VynTCrd00-pOyx6-ivq9LjWjKnNS3Q5rsGst7LwZFU4PZV3P00gkEmzy09f1jWyfSDE36wiwg3GB89CvbtDpTMF2PDs_nwCRRNhMzG0d6-XlOZmYhv5Utb0vlJqG-G45TWyuRnpj8Sf/s400/Elizabeth_Barrett_Browning_2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="306" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi1VynTCrd00-pOyx6-ivq9LjWjKnNS3Q5rsGst7LwZFU4PZV3P00gkEmzy09f1jWyfSDE36wiwg3GB89CvbtDpTMF2PDs_nwCRRNhMzG0d6-XlOZmYhv5Utb0vlJqG-G45TWyuRnpj8Sf/w306-h400/Elizabeth_Barrett_Browning_2.jpg" width="306" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elizabeth Barrett Bronwing</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Likewise, Mom supported the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Equal_Rights_Amendment" target="_blank">Equal Rights Amendment</a> and was very active in her community, helping the poor and underserved. She said that the best self-treatment for sadness, depression, or regret was to help other people.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Helping others, fostered in her Catholic background, became her "religion" once she no longer believed in the church. While my father and I were drawn to spiritual explorations, she rejected it all as hocus-pocus. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">No surprised then, that after my dad died, I felt him come to me several times (which I've written about <a href="https://www.elephantjournal.com/2016/02/i-see-dead-people-4-spirit-meetings-that-led-me-to-peace/" target="_blank">here </a>and <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Call-Wonder-odyssey-spirit-travel-ebook/dp/B0107FK51G/ref=sr_1_1?crid=170KHHQG8VFAE&dchild=1&keywords=call+it+wonder+kate+evans&qid=1605977409&sprefix=call+it+wonder%2Caps%2C373&sr=8-1" target="_blank">here</a>). My mother, though, proved to be more elusive...until last night.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">It wasn't only that I saw her handwriting in the book. I felt her presence. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKqHiZVxjdva1nLUMl4nHTO5t_zx4YnR7Vti-prYpBWJGR3Jxwxx2XF5SH3lxT4mYzUuRbltqSdDkvMcUCtzPF44AN_lcq2g-4jATMemiRDj4lCdzjbKXChBEBQ7AOV6Cm3QzK7RPjD5H4/s687/book.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="687" data-original-width="455" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKqHiZVxjdva1nLUMl4nHTO5t_zx4YnR7Vti-prYpBWJGR3Jxwxx2XF5SH3lxT4mYzUuRbltqSdDkvMcUCtzPF44AN_lcq2g-4jATMemiRDj4lCdzjbKXChBEBQ7AOV6Cm3QzK7RPjD5H4/s320/book.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><i>Sonnets form the Portuguese, </i>published in 1850, is a collection of 44 love sonnets. They weren't really translated from the Portuguese, as the title suggests, but Browning titled it this to keep her privacy. She'd thought the poems were too personal to publish, but her husband insisted it was the best sonnet sequence since Shakespeare. The most </span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">well-known poem in the book starts, "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">I didn't remember that last night, though, when I opened the book at 3 a.m. My heart was pounding as I read <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43733/sonnets-from-the-portuguese-1-i-thought-once-how-theocritus-had-sung" target="_blank">the first poem</a>, waiting to see what Mom had to say. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">The first sonnet starts with the speaker thinking of a Greek poet, Theocritus, who sings about the past, "the sweet years, the dear and wished for years." She begins to cry, thinking about all she has lost in life. (Browning had suffered deaths of many close to her, including her favorite brother.)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">She then feels a "shadow across me," a "mystic shape" moving behind her. Eerily, it draws her "backward by the hair" and then speaks to her. It says: </span></p><h4 style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 1em; text-align: left; text-indent: -1em; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><i>'Guess now who holds thee?'—'Death,' I said. But there,<br /></i></span><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><i>The silver answer rang ... 'Not Death, but Love.'</i></span></h4><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large; text-indent: -16px;">I broke out in tears. There it was, my mother's message, plain as day, fittingly written in the pages of a book, since we so loved books. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large; text-indent: -16px;">It isn't her death that holds me, but her love.</span></p><div style="border: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 1em; text-indent: -1em; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv6P-qhSddqerxw3a8uYpfVTF6-yCft6_c6SV5Gf_lLJ6gN-Przs1NWQh1fUoKgMmeKE8QonQVUagY7Pq7f8vGgsqMVUc_0fdI1IxQ3KTbhkkVW3FuErJWMgsdd59UBfQlclkcLcK58Mmv/s407/mom+and+me.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="351" data-original-width="407" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv6P-qhSddqerxw3a8uYpfVTF6-yCft6_c6SV5Gf_lLJ6gN-Przs1NWQh1fUoKgMmeKE8QonQVUagY7Pq7f8vGgsqMVUc_0fdI1IxQ3KTbhkkVW3FuErJWMgsdd59UBfQlclkcLcK58Mmv/w400-h345/mom+and+me.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom and me<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 20px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 1em; text-indent: -1em; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /><br style="background-color: white; font-family: adobe-garamond-pro;" /></div>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-51440070765817409932020-10-23T12:29:00.001-07:002020-10-23T14:09:21.646-07:00More Than Our Bodies<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKHefcqK1u9aKnWd0tRpaquLqmkqtsXkZ09DxCzwfKLZRB1en-qJMwR-OS78elG9RsQlcob7c03edY8LCNFsLI_kJXN6-fuJLO-j542biUbcrG7QirjxwxFcNNfk7ooP2bgYm2GynpxLk/w640-h426/IMG_6361.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Sunset in Baja (photo by Dave)" width="640" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset in Baja (photo by Dave)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKHefcqK1u9aKnWd0tRpaquLqmkqtsXkZ09DxCzwfKLZRB1en-qJMwR-OS78elG9RsQlcob7c03edY8LCNFsLI_kJXN6-fuJLO-j542biUbcrG7QirjxwxFcNNfk7ooP2bgYm2GynpxLk/s2048/IMG_6361.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Next to "It's benign" and "the margins are clear," hearing "it's not broken" is the freaking greatest news.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Two weeks ago <a href="http://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2020/10/angels-everywhere.html" target="_blank">I took a bad spill </a>and messed up my ankle. Initial x-rays were inconclusive. I had no idea that sometimes a break won't show up for a week or two after a trauma. So...today I went back for another x-ray.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">I was trying not to catastrophize. But we are supposed to take the long drive up Baja in two weeks to get to a <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2019/12/housesitting-all-over-world.html" target="_blank">housesit</a> in California and I was wondering how that would work with a broken ankle...much less one that might need surgery.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Bizarrely, in the past days, THREE friends have fallen off their bikes and suffered compound arm fractures that required surgery.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">I just keep reminding myself that a) the body knows how to <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/search?q=healing" target="_blank">heal</a>, and b) we've faced a lot of surprises and unknowns in this <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2012/10/nothing-remains-as-it-was-if-you-know.html" target="_blank">nomadic </a>life we live, and we're always able to figure things out.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">My mantra has been LOVE on the in-breath and HEALING on the out-breath. One of my arm-healing friends said this helped her a lot, too. It's so soothing that I think I will continue to use it, especially to help me get to sleep. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">So today I went back for the second x-ray...and, yay, it's a bad sprain, not a break. Doc told me to start walking with the boot. I did immediately when I got home. It's like being half non-automated robot. But I'll take it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">My 50s have been quite a ride for my body, what with <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2013/08/your-very-flesh-shall-be-great-poem.html" target="_blank">brain surgery</a> (for a benign tumor), <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2019/07/healing-in-hawaii.html" target="_blank">thyroid surgery</a> (for a benign tumor that had initially been diagnosed as cancer), surgery on my leg to remove a squamous cell growth (clear margins), and now this.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">In <i><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29251.Still_Here?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=BT3JcSGsiy&rank=9" target="_blank">Still Here: Embracing Aging, Changing and Dying</a></i>, Ram Dass talks about how if we live long enough, all of us face physical changes. This is an opportunity to learn we are "more than our bodies and our minds."</span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">This decade has been teaching me this, it seems. </span></p><p></p>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-26172160257681068052020-10-08T13:05:00.003-07:002020-11-11T02:41:06.380-08:00Angels Everywhere<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div data-block="true" data-editor="e5rgg" data-offset-key="d7hqf-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="d7hqf-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE_hCLq-hDGcNmtSDF6Epy0hneX86HsqVeO_ceDdNY9rZ8zO7q23dyX1bWRiD4dU0DcPyzblxfBNN7d1VxvfXVJ8r9hZ0VYzHmGq8YsrssvqRN8MKrMPWxcTjG7lTysagocbTt0x_Hwt04/w532-h299/WIN_20201008_13_33_59_Pro.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="532" /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Me today<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE_hCLq-hDGcNmtSDF6Epy0hneX86HsqVeO_ceDdNY9rZ8zO7q23dyX1bWRiD4dU0DcPyzblxfBNN7d1VxvfXVJ8r9hZ0VYzHmGq8YsrssvqRN8MKrMPWxcTjG7lTysagocbTt0x_Hwt04/s2048/WIN_20201008_13_33_59_Pro.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="d7hqf-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I had a freak fall while walking to the beach and was in such extreme pain I couldn't put weight on my ankle to stand. Three strangers in a truck heard my call for help and drove over. The young woman hovered over me, lightly placing her hands on my leg and shoulder, which immediately made me less nauseous. I asked her if she's a healer. She said no, but one of the guys said, "She just might be."</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="d7hqf-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="d7hqf-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Still, I was wailing in agony.</span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="e5rgg" data-offset-key="ff5uh-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="ff5uh-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="ff5uh-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br data-text="true" /></span></span></div></div><div data-block="true" data-editor="e5rgg" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They helped me into the truck. I said to the driver, "This hurts worse than my <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2013/08/your-very-flesh-shall-be-great-poem.html" target="_blank">brain surgery</a> and <a href="https://beingandwriting.blogspot.com/2019/07/healing-in-hawaii.html" target="_blank">thyroid surgery."</a></span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He said, "I just had a tumor removed from my chest two months ago. I still have some morphine pills they gave me. I have no idea why I brought them today...but I guess you were the reason."</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">He handed them to my neighbor Vivian who had appeared as the </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">two guys helped me hop on my (thankfully strong) right leg into my house. Dave and our friend Art, who were doing yoga, jumped from their mats into action:</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">elevation</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">pain meds</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">ice</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">love and kindness</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">reminders to breathe</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">reminders to accept the pain and let it flow by</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">checking if I could wiggle my toes (yes)</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I reminded myself that <a href="https://www.elephantjournal.com/2014/10/the-healing-machine/" target="_blank">I'm a good healer</a>. And I activated my mantra, <i>Something good will come from this.</i></span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I'm not big on morphine because it's addictive and causes bowel impactions, but damn, I wasn't going to say no at that moment. (It'll be ibuprofen from here on out.)</span></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Art, a former college basketball player, talked me through similar injuries he's had. I was extremely uncomfortable on the couch so Art PICKED ME UP and carried me to my bed! Let me just say I'm not feather-light. His care almost teared me up.</span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Vivian brought me herbal tea and essential oils from our other neighbor, Chelle. Chelle's husband Kris gave us the ace bandage. Another neighbor, Julie, loaned me her crutches.</span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And of course Dave has been caring for me ever since.</span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Something good has come from this.</span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A reminder that angels are everywhere.</span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In human form.</span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="41e2e-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><br /></div></div>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4562902658148179903.post-91038930972650029782020-08-30T05:00:00.000-07:002020-08-30T20:54:10.026-07:00How to Write Freely (hint: Befriend Your Mind)<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Years ago—via the work of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Writing-Natural-Way-Anniversary-Expanded/dp/0874779618/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=gabriele+rico+writing+the&qid=1598642461&sr=8-1" target="_blank">Gabriele Rico</a>, <a href="http://nataliegoldberg.com/" target="_blank">NatalieGoldberg</a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Bird-Some-Instructions-Writing-Life-ebook/dp/B000SEGI8Q/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=bird+by+bird&qid=1598642531&sr=8-1">Anne Lamott</a>, and <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Flow-Psychology-Experience-Perennial-Classics/dp/0061339202/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=flow+mihaly+csikszentmihalyi&qid=1598642574&sr=8-1" target="_blank">Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi</a>—I learned about the <b>right
brain vs. left brain</b>, the creator vs. the critic, the writing of the shitty
first draft, the generative power of flow. These concepts helped me a lot as a
writer. They helped me surrender to the stream (the dream, the trance) of
writing. Writing unharnessed, I could feel my unconscious do its work. When I
was in the flow, words poured onto the page; patterns and meanings emerged.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWYDRGn0KnwmqEJiWBWNiNbrIOBNXBt6gJrfuJ8PdrhGIuGr7AjSkKdWuAZBhjvGhWeHAAEQjUluOathLxBY0v3Rp1NrqebiliJzxpEL5n2138lF952v5eRBoQKX-Ydkejhxc76IUaoJu/s475/natalie+goldberg.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWYDRGn0KnwmqEJiWBWNiNbrIOBNXBt6gJrfuJ8PdrhGIuGr7AjSkKdWuAZBhjvGhWeHAAEQjUluOathLxBY0v3Rp1NrqebiliJzxpEL5n2138lF952v5eRBoQKX-Ydkejhxc76IUaoJu/s0/natalie+goldberg.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">And yet there were competing voices. Voices that said
<b>writing is hard</b>. Really, really hard. The boot camp voices: You must be
disciplined. You must keep your butt in the seat. The existential voices: You
have to <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/24965-there-s-nothing-to-writing-all-you-do-is-sit-down" target="_blank">open a vein and bleed</a> on the page. You must <a href="https://slate.com/culture/2013/10/kill-your-darlings-writing-advice-what-writer-really-said-to-murder-your-babies.html" target="_blank">kill your darlings</a>. The
masochist: If you don’t suffer, you’re doing it wrong. If you don’t sacrifice
your life to your art, you are a poser.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">These competing, contradictory voices fought inside
me. As I result, I’d experience stretches of flow and confidence, followed by
expanses of scarcity and deep doubt. I wrote numerous short pieces, but I
stopped several books fifty pages in.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">One day I came
across a book called <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15799151-daily-rituals?from_search=true&from_srp=true&qid=7zdZle5sMM&rank=1" target="_blank">Daily Rituals: How Artists Work</a></i> by Mason Currey. In his examination of the working lives of famous
writers and artists from the 19<sup>th</sup> century to the present, I saw that
the most prolific artists <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">do</i> work
most days to take advantage of momentum. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">But not all day, every day. </span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Generally three
or four hours a day—with a day or two off a week. For many, more work than that
becomes self-sabotaging, leading to burn-out. This<b> four-hour pace</b> is about creating
a body of work, of living a sustainable life as an artist. Their focus is the
process, not an attachment to the product. But what struck me the most was
this: <i>They adjust their thinking to their
benefit.</i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtijaGTpa-_4k3Iuw0o5CWvuRaxazwZBO1GvqkzPfjWTKrRehiugYuUB1wYKTTqePMOc7wbt3oY0jEy-PBOWM4tSfwyhXODLJxIZTB8BxxmtoIX6n1ybCQw7WcKROiNQKzctaqROBz1QNz/s598/440px-Willa_Cather_ca._1912_wearing_necklace_from_Sarah_Orne_Jewett.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="598" data-original-width="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtijaGTpa-_4k3Iuw0o5CWvuRaxazwZBO1GvqkzPfjWTKrRehiugYuUB1wYKTTqePMOc7wbt3oY0jEy-PBOWM4tSfwyhXODLJxIZTB8BxxmtoIX6n1ybCQw7WcKROiNQKzctaqROBz1QNz/s0/440px-Willa_Cather_ca._1912_wearing_necklace_from_Sarah_Orne_Jewett.jpg" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></span></p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">While writing or painting or sculpting wasn’t always
easy, many of these artists foster the attitude of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Willa_Cather" target="_blank">Willa Cather</a>, who said: </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">“If
I made a chore of it, my enthusiasm would die. I make an adventure of it every
day.”</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 200%;">The word “</span><span style="line-height: 200%;"><b>adventure</b></span><span style="line-height: 200%;">” popped off the page. <b><i>Adventures
can be arduous. They can have scary moments. But we love them! We choose them!</i></b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The book I wanted to write was, in part, about the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">adventure</i> my husband and I embarked
upon: leaving our jobs and home to live as nomads. It was <b>a memoir about how
life is an adventure.</b> How we transformed when we stepped into the fertile void.
Suddenly, the plot and the process of my project felt interlinked.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">It had been six years since I’d written a book. The
stakes felt high. I’d retired early in order to focus on my writing.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">We were staying for four months at a house in Tahoe.
The house had extra rooms, and groups of our friends would be coming and going.
I decided that <b>no matter what, I’d write two to four hours a day, </b>with my
earbuds in playing music to inspire me, to make it fun—and to block out the
noise of all those people. When I took off the earbuds, I’d be living my
balanced life: we’d talk, make food, go hiking and snow-shoeing.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kTZ3fWjqcbIsZbjqQi9Ni3lOhmJb4eOjHKqIKS1sxvPC8k7pCBkuUN_bffbEg-bLhSvX1LWa_7uxitbkNaIMqrUsIymlJlEAHfpKES3VbrXePI_WA1kQ90ToG59VliDZFHYJNwqwOJX1/s960/snowshoe.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="469" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kTZ3fWjqcbIsZbjqQi9Ni3lOhmJb4eOjHKqIKS1sxvPC8k7pCBkuUN_bffbEg-bLhSvX1LWa_7uxitbkNaIMqrUsIymlJlEAHfpKES3VbrXePI_WA1kQ90ToG59VliDZFHYJNwqwOJX1/w625-h469/snowshoe.jpg" title="Dave" width="625" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">The first day I sat to write, I turned on my computer
and, with my hands on my lap, took a deep breath. Spontaneously, I closed my
eyes, and listened to my inner voice say something like this:</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 200%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">I’m
writing today because I choose it. It’s an adventure! It’s about allowing, not
forcing. It’s about being curious and joyful. I am doing this because I love
it. I’m willing to make a mess, like a finger-painting kid. I trust my instincts.
My unconscious will guide me. I’m willing to get lost in the dream of writing.</span></b></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 200%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I opened my eyes and was off and running. </span></span><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Every day, I closed my eyes and gave myself what I
began to call a “Meditative Pep Talk.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Never before had I written so prolifically. <b>Words
poured out like water.</b> If I hit a speed bump, I’d close my eyes, breathe, and
tap into thoughts served me best. Thoughts like, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It’s okay to be unsure. It’s okay to not know. <b>You’re doing this
because you love it. You’re not suffering, you’re adventuring.</b></i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">In four months, I wrote 160,000 words. That’s about
five or six double-spaced pages a day.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Call-Wonder-odyssey-spirit-travel/dp/099618242X/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=call+it+wonder&qid=1598643170&sr=8-2" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWDNZKTqFIDG7DE8yQ074o2Fkc8n9JbcyD-RawCrITTQXOjiDM5bZOdpW0KvquYR5To3GBiqrOJILkslXgISJpjuUL2U087y3fW54Ub9mVx2GtuwJR-aBGSBXxZCEtA7-jYyyxTl4JZlF1/s0/c.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">When it came time to revise, I knew I’d have to cut. I
decided I wasn’t killing my darlings; I was pulling weeds so the garden would
thrive. Every day I appreciated how all those extraneous words were
instrumental in forming the essential ones. I thought about Michelangelo, who
said: <b>“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”</b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">I have a choice. <b>I can believe my fears or I can
believe my assurances</b>. As though my process and my product wove together like a
Moebius strip, I ended up titling my memoir: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Call-Wonder-odyssey-spirit-travel/dp/099618242X/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=call+it+wonder&qid=1598643170&sr=8-2" target="_blank"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Call It Wonder</i>,</a> from OSHO who said: </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 200%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">“Don’t call it uncertainty—call
it wonder. </span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 200%;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Don’t call it insecurity—call it freedom.” </span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Kate Evanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16478737570632377733noreply@blogger.com1