hooray for wool socks!

Yesterday I drove down to Sedona for my retreat. It was a beautiful drive. I didn’t take a map or turn on the GPS. There was no wondering how far until the next town or trying to “make good time” – I just took my time. The drive itself was a part of the retreat, just being free and on the road was the vacation. 

I must confess - having my bike on the bike rack causes me a lot of trepidation. I know that everything is secure, but I still worry that it will come loose and bounce down the highway.

I stopped at my favorite rest stop in Blanding – your base camp to adventure. It has clean, warm bathrooms open 24 hours a day and during the day it has a little museum and information. The lady there recommended I go through Monument Valley rather than Mexican Water. I had planned on it, but she was just so enthusiastic about it I decided to stop in the Valley of the Gods for lunch instead of Kayenta.

There is this place just past Bluff where you turn the corner and it is a sea of red. You think the rocks are red elsewhere, but no, this is red. The landscape is so completely red you wonder if something is wrong with your eyes, then you despair of ever seeing another color. You wonder if you stepped out of the protective shell of your car if you would be red, too. There were skid marks right off the edge of that corner. People were probably so overwhelmed that they drove right off the cliff.

I had lunch in the Valley of the Gods and took two small hikes. I didn’t want to get too far from my car with my awesome bike strapped on it. It is a stunning place. I will go back another time I think. Southern Utah is very inspiring and I wrote two poems while sitting there. They weren’t about the place, but the energy is “right” for being creative.

I passed through the optimistic town of Red Lake. They have a well marked designated “business area” which consists of a tire shop and a gas station/mini mart. Good on them for preparing for the future! A furry grey thing (I don’t know what) darted in front of my car. I guess he thought I’d be going slower because of all of the business traffic. The highway was clean when I looked in the mirror, so I guess he got away.

I had some interesting thoughts about God and various religions, but I didn’t get it all written down (as I was driving.) I need to flesh out those ideas before I write them here.

Cruise control adversely affects my gas mileage, but not as much as a ticket would affect my pocket book. The bike on the back, ruining the aerodynamic shape of the action Corolla, doesn’t help. I had to fill up in Tuba City. I went to the Navajo museum while I was there. It was very interesting. There seemed to be a shift in perspective now from when I traveled the Southwest with my Dad as a kid. Then, there seemed to be a defeatist attitude, now there is more pride and an ownership of the bad and good parts of their history. An older lady, she didn’t seem to be an employee, just hanging out, asked me if I was part Native American. I was surprised. I am part Cherokee, but I have scrutinized my face in the mirror from every angle and never saw even a hint. She said she didn’t see it in my face but in my spirit. I don’t know why that made me happy, but it did. 

I also listened to their native “in language” radio station until I lost the signal. It’s funny, foreign languages don’t sound foreign to me anymore. They are just words I don’t know yet. I know not everyone sees the world that way. To them, foreign languages are just undecipherable jibber-jabber, frustrating and strange. I guess I am just lucky. And, I am glad that we passed our view of the world as an inviting place on to our daughter.

I stopped in Flagstaff and had dinner with an old Army buddy and his family. He is going to the college there on his GI Bill. His wife made the most awesome fusion food – Vietnamese pork pot pie. It kind of sounds gross, but it was awesome. The sauce was kind of soy saucy and sweet and the crust was flakey and good. She served it with pickled vegetables, so it was like pot pie banh-mi. I am going to make it for my friends when I get home.

I got to the cabin late, so everything was dark. The place has strings of lights strung in the trees. A lot of places do that in Arizona all year around, for atmosphere. It is very pretty and I think I need to string some lights in my backyard when I get it done. The first thing I noticed, though, was the sound of rushing water. It is beautiful. I can hear it without my hearing aid in, which almost made me cry. I can’t afford to move here, which I might if only to listen to this every day, but I need to get my waterfall project done. The cabin is so cozy. I lit the fire, sipped tea and read my book on the chair by the fireplace.  

This morning I woke up early as we were off to church and to see Vortexes (I know that looks weird, but it’s how they write it here.)

you should wear socks to bed, seriously

I was going to leave for my trip today, but we had a huge storm roll through here. I didn’t feel like driving through dangerous winds and blowing snow. It is an irrational fear, because I know my bike rack is sturdy and fits tightly on my car. But, I am always terrified that it is going to fall off. I decided my nerves would be better served by waiting the storm out and then leaving. I will simply extend my trip by another day.

Instead, I started on my taxes. Another thing to be grateful about living alone – paperwork is where I put it. My husband liked to get the mail. He opened all the envelopes willy-nilly and left them around. Then, he would blame me for unpaid bills I didn’t know had come. To be honest, some of the unpaid bills were because I genuinely forgot (my bad), but most were his fault. There wasn’t even any point in arguing, I just apologized. He would arbitrarily throw stuff I needed for the taxes out because he didn’t think we needed it. Maybe he thought they were solicitations or something, rather than receipts for donations already made. I don’t know. Now, everything is organized and I got a good start.

It has been a pretty productive week, really. I participated in reverse thrift store Wednesday. In our town the day to go to the thrift store is Wednesday – that is when they put out all of the new stuff. However, this week I only went to the thrift store to drop stuff off. It was awesome. I got rid of thirty pounds of slip covers and curtains alone. We always moved around a lot. I needed a way to make different curtains and furniture work in different rooms, so I had a unified color scheme and slip covers for the government furniture. I hauled those things around for fifteen years. Somebody else may want them and they aren’t weighing me down. I actually ended up taking about 200 pounds of stuff over. 

I had another story published locally. The publication doesn’t pay for submissions, so I don’t send them the stuff I plan to sell. Still, it is good to get feedback from a wide range of local readers. They pop into the shop to tell me what they thought, which I think is cool. They could email me, but this is a small town and they know where to find me. People value face to face communication here.

My husband’s boss called me and told me that he didn’t want me disrupting his staff retreat while I was in Sedona. I have to admit I was pretty embarrassed. What must they think of me? They must think I am some kind of crazy stalker coming down to follow my husband around and cause him trouble. I don’t know what I have done to give them that impression. I give him a wide berth and never ask anyone questions about him. The only things I know about his life are the things people tell me in the shop without my asking, sometimes because they think I still have some sort of influence over his more outlandish behavior, which I don’t. The only reason I still have to cross paths with him at all is because he didn’t have the common decency to leave town when he left me. His girlfriend gave me an earful when she overheard me telling my friends I was going to Sedona and would miss next week’s meeting. She always lurks around the café and listens in during our writers’ group meetings. She is one of the most childish people I know. 

We were on TV last night. The town’s new tap room made the news. They wanted to interview me, but I still have some lingering camera shyness from all of those years in the service. I guess I am going to have to get over that if I become a famous author.

I was running on the treadmill and watching Doctor Oz. He said that to ensure good sleep, you need to keep your feet warmer than the rest of you. Apparently, if your feet are cooler than the rest of your body, your body works harder to warm them up, making you all sweaty and sleep deprived. I have started wearing socks to bed and using just a light quilt. I still feel warm enough and I sleep great.

lets you know you're alive

Whoa. It’s been a while. I haven’t been writing much, but I should. The inversion has sealed the valley in an icy bubble of stagnant air. It slowly drives people mad as the air fills with hanging smoke, unable to rise and the air quality gets poorer by the day. We are trapped until another front moves through to free us, however briefly. I don’t mind being driven indoors by the subzero temperatures and the particulate laden air. I have been strangely productive lately, fixing some things and purging others. I don’t attribute it to the new year, because while I have resolutions these actions don’t pertain to them. I think it is due to the inability to do things outdoors. Since I cannot do anything outside, I am freed to lock myself away in my house and do things. I should be writing, though – snuggled up by the fire with tea. 

I went to philosophy discussion a few nights ago. We talked about how American society has fragmented due to endless entertainment choices. We used to all watch the same shows on the same nights and could have a conversation about them. Now, there are so many options no one watches the same shows, and even when you do you can’t talk about them because everyone is on a different season depending on what medium they are using to view them. We no longer have a common experience. 

A friend of mine had a potluck over at his house. This was a huge step for him, as he is a bit anti-social. But, he did a good job of being a polite host and not freaking out about all of the people milling around. We also all left promptly at 9:45, which probably helped. I could tell he was trying to figure out how to tell us he’d had enough and wanted us all to leave. It is a testament to just how far he’s come in the last year or so.

On Friday, my friend broke up with another boyfriend. We all saw it coming but were surprised at how friendly it was. She must be learning something because her breakups are usually quite dramatic. Because of the breakup, we had to all meet at the tap room for the obligatory beer and support session. It wasn’t a chore, though. We’re accustomed to drinking and talking, whatever the reason.

Somebody left their car parked outside of the shop for three days – no one knew who or why. We started to make up stories about it and decided there must be a dead body in the trunk. Everyone in town probably had a piece of the puzzle, saw something, but everyone also had a secret that prevented them from going to the police with what they knew. Our story grew and encompassed all of our town regulars. It made a boring Sunday afternoon in the shop go much quicker. I wish I’d written it all down.

So, my husband left for Sedona this morning. Many people here just close up and head down there this time of year, to escape the inversion and continue their mountain biking lifestyle. I have been invited down as well and plan to go as soon as I get my 90,000 mile servicing on my car. I wish I could have gone with him, though. I found a cute place to stay down there and plan to have a great couple of days, hanging with a friend, riding my bike and writing. I always write better on a trip.

are you knocking four times?

Well, Happy 2013. I can’t say I’m sorry to see 2012 go – it was easily one of the worst years of my life. I did have a great time saying so long to it, though. We had a blast down at the Tap Room, and now I am feeling a bit fragile. 

Nonetheless, I got off work at noon and we went hiking out to Independence Rock. It was clear and cold, but beautiful. And, even though tracks in the snow told us we were not the first out there, everything still felt shiny and pristine. We didn’t see anyone else the whole way. Afterward, we grilled  and devoured rib eyes. 

Writers group was pretty cool. We are embarking on a massive, mutual project that will take nine months – we’re calling it gestating a novel, a labor of love. We got off to a great start and only got off track to talk about Doctor Who and Merlin a very little bit. My husband’s girlfriend worked late, so that meant that she stood behind me and talked really loudly about all of the great things her boyfriend does while staring daggers into the back of my head. At least I left before she did, so she couldn’t write any dirty words on my car.

I spoke to the mayor about parachutes for the police cars, and she said she’d conduct a feasibility study. We also discussed the need for a signal, maybe a dinosaur shape. When the Koreans, Russians or Iranians detonate an airborne nuclear warhead over the US, the electromagnetic pulse is going to make standard communications impossible. We must resort to tried and true methods of crime fighting, ala the Bat Signal.

I am looking into taking a welding class, just for giggles.

fingers should be eaten seperately

I sat down to chicken noodle soup and a second quiet evening at home. My phone rang. I really should turn it off, but I am always afraid I will miss a call from my husband or daughter. It was my writer friends calling. They said, “Alternative bluegrass cello.” So, I bundled up and headed out into the subzero darkness. The concert, if you could call it that, was intimate – maybe forty people, gathered in a warm spot for music on a winter night. It is a very natural, human thing to do, I think - something from ancient times, people huddled up to a fire to share stories and song. The musician was good. He probably won’t ever be top forty, but stranger things have happened. I’m glad I went.

Have you ever noticed that Robin is the smarter one? Batman lays out all of the facts and Robin snaps his fingers, concocts a painful pun, and solves the problem. Batman follows it up with something like, “Right you are, Robin.” He pretends like he knew it all along and was waiting for Robin to catch up.

Why don’t people sky write anymore? Especially villains. It would sure spice things up in our small town if the criminals started sky writing clues for our local police department to figure out. They could put something up there like “What is the difference between President Hoover and President Clinton?” It would naturally lead the police to the pot smoking juveniles with the munchies who tried to cook Mrs. Pogline’s chickens last week. Maybe I could hire a sky writer just to get the ball rolling and remind criminals of this lost art. Also, we could put parachutes on the back of all of the police cars, especially the drug enforcement vehicle – that would totally freak people out. But, then the city would have to employ someone to drive around and pick up all of the used parachutes deployed in the streets. It might not be a bad job. I am going to suggest it to the mayor when she comes in for coffee tomorrow.