Where's Hazel? Pet Hazel. Scratch Hazel behind her ears.

Almost May Day

I hope this finds you well. I am over all, well enough. A little further around the bend but otherwise Ok. Busy teaching my printer to emulate Oliver: Please Sir I want some more. Ink? Printer is now linked to the Great HP in The Cloud and will ask Mr Bumble for more when the ink gauge in the carts gets down to critical. And if there is a connexion of course.

Annual vision exam last week returns the second signs of cataracts in both eyes but a long ways from requiring intervention. For the first time my left eye is showing signs of astigmatism, but likewise, at this point nothing to be gained by corrective lenses. Still 20/20 and clear.

My pisser does not work as well as in the old days. I'm getting really thin skinned. Does not take much of an abrasion to start bleeding nor much of an abrasive situation to set off a temper tantrum.

This year of our 2018 is some sort of a very different year. Somewhat akin to 1977 when I came to the realisation that I had ate-slept-pissed in all the lower 48 states, many of them twice, and all in the same old 1967 yellow Chevy G-10 van. We were in DC, at the end of a long day on the Mall, at a campground out on the beltway. After one of the Scouts had finished painting in the last three states in the map on the side of the van I was adding the dotted line to represent the route. The Willshedoit had done it, and I realised, at that moment, I'd completed a goal I didn't remember starting. My world came crashing down around me. I sat there staring at the map, wondering, what am I going to do next.

In 1957, at the closing ceremony of the Jamboree in Valley Forge, looking out at the 50,000 Scouts in shorts from all the states, I said to my Self "Some day I am going to visit all those places." Now, twenty years later, as I painted in that last state, I realised how much of that time I'd spent organising tours to get other kids to help me with that goal.

With the loss of that impetus I mostly drifted sideways for a while, took up motorcycle riding, chased an eclipse, then in 1987 ran away to Antarctica for ten years. In 1997 I put The Cat Drag'd Inn on the road and embarked on a mostly solo adventure. An exile of sorts this has become, a self imposed exile to keep me safe from the love of my life.

What is it with all those sevens? 57, 67, 77, 87, 97, and now I am 77...

Conundrum. Dilemma. Quandary.

The question I am asking my Self now ... Am I staying here in AridZona this Summer? I'm finding the thought of getting on the road not as easy to work through this year as in past years. Staying in Tonopah is a distinct possibility. Pardon me if I ramble, each time this subject comes up is a chance for me to rethink the options. Staying here is at one end of the spectrum. I'm not quite ready to embrace the torture of 120f that would engender. However there are a host of fears and concerns lurking in the shadows of every other choice.

At the other end of the spectrum is to depart next week and head for Maine. Lots of places, relatives, and friends to visit along the way. Several thousand miles-gallons-dollars later I might return here in Octvember to take up full time employment in order to pay off the credit card debt. In between those extremes is the most likely course of the same-old-same-old rut of Summer in Pie Town and back here in time for Thanksgiving.

An option to that plan would be to leave The Cat Drag'd Inn (and the cat in drag) with a caretaker in Pie Town and fly ABQ to PWM. I could rent a car for a week and have a whirlwind visit and fly back for a fraction of the cost of Plan-A. The more I mull this over the better I like the idea. I've not flown since my last trip back from The Ice in 1997.

This is a strange year, my dears. Several friends have died or been other wise taken from my circle. I've not seen some of you in so long I don't really remember. Three of my siblings have died since the last time I was back there to visit. I feel a strong need to commiserate with those remaining.

Conundrum. Dilemma. Quandary.

I really don't know which way I'm going yet. Or returning. Coming or going. I'm reminded of Sara(h) the TacoCat. She never knew either, never figured it out I'm sure.

I remember, when Little Jon was coaching me for my First Encounter with the Navy Shrink, and he related that apocryphal line about "the woman behind every tree"; the joke of course was that there were no trees. When I got to that part of the interview where the shrink grips the arms of his chair and hunches forward a bit and asks "And what are you going to do about sex..." I quickly responded: Well, a friend who was on The Ice last year told me there was a penguin behind every tree.

Then there was the time at MCM Comms the year the Navy went Co-ed. They had just changed the sign on The Head to indicate the facility was bi-sexual. [... or was that uni-sexual...] Anyhow... I was sitting on the commode that morning when kick-squeal-clomp-clomp announced the arrival of a biped. Shortly, these boot made for walking appeared under the stall divider between me and the urinal. I recognised them as belonging to my Navy counterpart, one Angie B. "Hold on there Angie, I'll be right out." That's OK, she replied, I can aim as well as you can.

The Ides of May—Still Here...

I am still complaining every chance I get about the state of humanity. Re-reading my old letters; in this one from Gila Cliff Dwelling in November 1999 I observed: "Preservation of these ruins ... is such a high order of business that you may not eat nor smoke on the trail. Kennels are provided at the trail head for pets. Water and guide dogs are permitted. We chatted [with the interpretive guide-ranger] for over an hour about the effort we as a society make to preserve the past whilst destroying our own present to make way for the future." Pottery sherds you leave where you find them, they are artifacts; even some rusty tin cans from old mining camps are artifacts, leave them be. But aluminium cans, plastic water bottles, they are trash and should be carried home. What's the difference?

I'm nearing the end of this massive cleaning up after project I undertook for my friend who has gone round the bend; aside from picking up another hundred pounds of stuff to haul around in my overweight bus I've accumulated a lot to think about: Who is going to clean up after me?

More Living In The Past--Vinyl Makes a Resurgence

I used to be acquainted with a small independent record store where one could listen to a vinyl platter before buying. Nice big headphones so you could listen at ear-shattering loudness. Records towards the back, hobby stuff—stamps and balsa wood stick models—at the front. I went there first for model plane kits. After I was introduced to and fell in love with classical music I bought the first LP of my eventual collection from that store: Ferdé Grofé's Grand Canyon Suite by The Boston Pops, conducted by Arthur Fiedler on RCA. I wonder where that record is now...

23 May Food Bank Day

The first time this happened a couple weeks ago I could not get to my camera fast enough and the critter got away. In the end all I caught was Hazel doing a selfie.

Tonight, busy writing letters in the dark, there was a sound outside. I turned on the yard light to see a red fox raiding the food bank stash in the bed of TinyTruck. This time the real camera was close to hand. The red fox eventually ducked under the cardboard sun shade and escaped with a sack of rolls from the bread box.

What May Is This? L'appel du vide

I'm looking forward to leaving Tonopah, commencing Summer Migration. Sort of. So close to the edge of just staying here. 'Twould be so much easier. My Uncle Isaac wrote a law about that. He called it The Constipation of Energy: A body at rest tends to stay at rest; a body in motion tends to slow down. Especially going up-hill. No. I really do expect to spend what's left of the Summer in Pie Town as usual. Except for a fortnight excursion to New Hampster and Maine. My plan at present, subject to change, minute by minute, is to entrain at FLG for about 60 hours of intense slothfulness on the rails to BOS where friends will meet me at South Station. Rental car for a week of running around to visit friends and siblings and then railride another 60 hours return to FLG.

Cool Tool

Studying the word “it” and how it translates in other languages and cultures. This tool presents an outline map of Europe and translates your search word into the language of each country. See Albania!

A Present For Hazel

            "Dressed Up"  by  James Hunter

    My Beloved dressed up in cat clothes this morning
                And sat on my lap purring,
                        And stared up into my face
                                As though it were I
                                        Who was the Great Mother in the sky.

I'm Not The Only One Doing Crosswords

This morning I nearly spilled my coffee when I sat down to my morning crossword.

L’appel du vide

French — “The call of the void” is this French expression’s literal translation, but more significantly the phrase is used to describe the instinctive urge to jump from high places. That's about how I feel at the moment. Entropy strikes again. Here is the list: Bus engine start-button doesn't. TT driver's seatbelt retractor won't let go so I canna get the belt around me. Add to that the master brake cylinder is leaking (I'm thinking of adding Radiator Stop-Leak to the brake fluid). Then I discovered that the forward port bellybox door hinge has failed. The door cannot be latched. UV rotted the stitching. I'll have to find a tent and awning place with an industrial sized Singer to resew the seams with SPF 100 thread.

Summer Solstice

Summer Solstice Sunrise happened in the right place above the standing stone north east of Paul's Labyrinth. The days are getting shorter now. June was a mostly clear month. Coincidently, only for the three days associated with THAT RAIN was there any cloudiness worth noting. That rain was seven minutes of a 2” rain. In AridZona-speak that means that for seven minutes the rain drops were never closer together than two inches.

Field Day Followup

 We had a total of 53 contacts using PSK31 and RTTY, and four using FM and SSB, for a total of 220 points. Hurricane Hazel, ME0W, was working 40m on her cat's whisker radio. Bonus Points claimed for Solar Power, ARRL Field Day Message copied, and Emergency/Natural power totaled 400.

June 28

To Pie or not pie too, that is the question. I hope you all had a good 2π Day. I hope more than Mikey remembered that yesterday, 6.28, was 2π Day. I knew to remember a few days ahead and to be sure there was a pie in my grub box from the food bank but then at a crucial moment I forgot and made pickled eggs instead.

I hope I can get out of this oppressive heat soon. My brain is addled by 111f temperatures and now the humidity is now beginning to climb towards Monsoon values as well.