The final blog

 This will be my final blog. I’m hanging up my writers cap and calling it a day. It’s been a good run, but it’s time for me to sign off. I’m tired, and after reading some of my blogs of late, it really shows.  Sparkling wit has been replaced with tedious sarcasm. 

It’s been a long career.

I started writing in high school when I was the editor of the school newspaper at Hamilton High School.  That was just shy of 50 years ago. It’s either a long time ago, or it’s just yesterday. I suppose it depends on the day.

 In my mind it’s been a long time trying to come up with something fresh to write every day, but as I embrace my “golden years,” I realize age and time is relative. So is the passion for what you do.  I read with fascination the columns written by Dan Rather. Me? I’d like to fade into the sunset and enjoy my life in obscurity.

In addition to a long career, it’s been an interesting ride.

After high school I headed off to Central Michigan University with lofty ideals and a determination to do something my parents thought was unrealistic.  I smile to myself when I think of my father telling me, as he and Mom dropped me off at my dorm that first week of school, “Don’t let those professors turn you into a bleeding-heart liberal.”  Well Dad, it wasn’t the professors that turned me into a liberal. It was observing life and finding the values you held so dear didn’t always resonate with the reality I observed. Sorry. That was the way of it, at least for me.

I could write about how my life/political views began to change, but I won’t bore you with the details. I’ll be honest, the things I’ve seen, my life’s observations, have left me questioning the staunch Calvinistic, Republican life I knew as a child. Let’s just say my eyes were opened by life itself and my views changed.

And, after more than 40 years as a reporter, I’d have to say I’ve seen a lot.

 I recall covering my first trial in Allegan County Circuit Court – a case where a man had bound and gagged his wife and left her naked out in the middle of the state game area (in February) where she was to be picked up by some other individuals for “training;” I read with horror court records of child abuse; I watched politicians argue with environmentalists; there were weeks when I covered plane crashes, traffic accidents and spelling bees. I’ve been threatened, screamed at and had a camera yanked from my hands at a house fire; all while working nights, weekends and holidays.

But there were rewards as well.

 I had a father come into my office and thank me for putting a photo of his third grader on the front page of the newspaper. I recall the child. I snapped his photo at a science fair. All the other children had mammoth projects with motors and brightly colored led lights. This young man had put together something with drinking straws, duct tape and marbles. He had his project set up in a corner of the room and stood by himself.  I put every child’s photo in the newspaper, but this young man’s photo was given a place of prominence on  the front page. His Dad told me that one small act was a turning point for his son. “He always felt inferior to his classmates,” his Dad said. “We obviously don’t have the money some of these other families have. That photo made him feel good about himself. He’s been a changed child.”

 So today I sit in my tiny travel trail and look out the window at the beginnings of spring and think about the things I’ve seen and written about over the years. I’d just like to become anonymous.

 There are a few campers here today who have braved the cold and rain to join us at the campground. There are three of us, to be exact. But eventually the weather will warm, families will venture out on vacation together and our solitude at the campground will be interrupted by people enjoying life. That is as it should be.  But I don’t want to write about it any longer.  I don’t want that voice in my head, turning a phrase and thinking about how to word something I observed. I just want to observe.

I wish all of you the best – even those who have made snarky comments.

Be kind, play nice, and don’t kick sand in the sandbox.

Back in Michigan

 King, Petra and I pulled into the campground in South Haven Saturday, a week and a day after leaving California. We spent three days in Santa Rosa, New Mexico waiting for winds to die down. It was an uneventful trip back to Michigan.

Within the hour of our arriving, our oldest son stopped by to see us. Of our four children he is the most sentimental. I had invited him over for a cookout on Sunday, but he showed up Saturday stating, “I was too excited to wait.”  He’s 45 and still needs his Mom and Dad.

I had a different column written yesterday – one railing against the sanctimonious twits of the world, and I even worked on it a little more today. But in the end I decided there was no point. One either agrees with the sanctimonious twits of the world or one does not and I’ve learned (the hard way) that calling them out on their judgmental edicts does little to the cause of we ”liberals.” (Sometimes we are called another word, one that combines the word liberal with an offensive R word – to them I say, “excuse me, your ignorance is showing”).

So today is Monday and the rain is coming down steadily. According to our weather app – by which we travelers live and die – the rain is going to continue for another three hours. I can most certainly live with that. There is a degree of contentment in being able to look out the window and say to myself, “I don’t have to do anything but sit and read, write and play around with whatever craft I feel like doing.” In retirement it’s like that every day, but rain brings the feeling home even more.

 I’ve been playing around with different craft type things all winter and posting my creations on my Facebook page (which I recently de-activated because of the afore mentioned sanctimonious twits). The campground owner asked if I wanted to set up a booth at their monthly marketplace. It could be fun. I might try it a couple of times. Not so much as a money-making venture but more of a way to be able to continue with a creative outlet and not have our tiny home overflowing with the fruits of my labor.

We spend our summer months at Kal-Haven Outpost Campground. It’s a newer campground, I think the first season it was open was 2016. The young couple who co-own the campground with their partners work hard to make the place a go-to destination. This spring they put in a sewer line. I would expect it will bring in even more campers. In addition to their now full-hookup sites, there are also wooded tent sites.  They also host a monthly Kal-Haven Outpost marketplace. Vendors can set up their booths to sell their wares, food trucks are brought in and there is usually live music. Easter weekend there will be an Easter Egg hunt, they are planning a Christmas in July celebration and a Halloween trick or trunk. I’m sure there are other events I’ve missed since I no longer have a Facebook account. In case the link above doesn't work, their website is https://kalhavenoutpost.com .

So, despite the cold and the grey Michigan days we are back and content to be here. I’m looking forward to long, lazy summer days. Hope to see you around.

Play nice, don’t call people names (such as sanctimonious twits) and don’t kick sand in the sandbox.

 

 

Our last hurrah

Today is Tuesday. Normally I would have written my blog on Sunday evening, but Sunday found us babysitting while our daughter worked. We got home late and went straight to bed.  Yesterday we (our daughter, King and I) took the boys to Legoland. It wasn’t a late night but we got to the park when it opened and left when it closed at 5:30. When the King and I got home we went straight to bed, not even stopping long enough to eat dinner. Sweet exhaustion.  I recall the last time my father went downhill skiing.  He was 82 and made three or four runs, came home and slept for two days.  I understand the feeling.

Yesterday was the longest Petra has been away from us since we adopted her in September. She is now glued to my side. She’s telling me in her doggy way, “You will not be absent from me again.” I think she likes us.

Yesterday was also the first time the boys felt confident enough to try the roller coasters. It was also the first time they were tall enough to ride on all the rides.  And I believe they did just that – rode ALL the rides.

Legoland, for the uninformed, is geared for younger guests. There are no death-defying, spin you on your ear, 500-foot drops, or no cork-screw turns that hang you by your legs. The roller coasters are geared for the younger crowd.  It’s a stepping-stone for their teen years. And speaking of teens, because of the age of most of the guests there were lots and lots of families (even for a Monday) but, there were no meandering hoards of teens, filled with angst over who was riding with who.  (Or is it whom)?

King does not do roller coasters. It’s a motion sickness thing. But he does love to play the games and win enormous stuffed animals. Our daughter inherited that trait. The boys came home with two huge stuffed husky-looking dogs. There is now officially no room in their beds for humans to sleep. Our daughter says they will have to get rid of a few “stuffies”  … eventually. I doubt it will happen.

Room additions

This is our last week in California. We will watch one last little-league game tonight, have one last ice cream sundae party on Thursday night and then head out Friday morning for Michigan. Our goal is to be back in Michigan in time for an Elton John concert in April. My sister and I are going.  We have both been fans since we suffered from our own teen angst.

On our way back we will be stopping in Quartzite, Arizona to collect more rocks for polishing. I have four sets of grandchildren (at least one from each family) who I’ve turned into rock hounds. To be fair, I think our youngest son’s children may have had help from their mother in the rock-hound regard. (They are also exceptional at finding beach glass).  

Heading back in the spring is always bittersweet, but then again, so is leaving Michigan in the fall. We do what we do and find enjoyment in everything.  I’ve learned contentment is all a matter of perspective.  But that’s a story for another day.

In the meantime, stay safe, play nice and don’t kick sand in the sandbox.

Time to think about traveling back to Michigan

Sunday afternoon on the road isn’t really any different from Sunday afternoon living in a brick and mortar home.

King is watching golf on TV, the dog is sleeping on the sofa next to me, the windows are open and a breeze is blowing in keeping things cool. Life is good.

The boys spent last night with us for one last campout before we leave in two weeks. Where we will be staying from March 17^th to March 21^st is currently in a state of flux. I think King and I will be storing the trailer at a friend’s storage space while she is out of town. King and I will stay at her home while roofers come and replace her roof – for the second time in a year. It’s a long story, suffice it to say King will be playing the “bad guy” and making sure it’s done correctly this time. Black mold, leaky walls and ceilings and replacing flooring does not make homeowners or insurance companies happy. 

We will be pulling out of our final campground on March 25^th and meandering our way back to Michigan for the summer.   On our way out here last fall we had a mishap with our trailer plug and King had to make emergency repairs somewhere in New Mexico.  Everything works, but apparently the battery was not connected, meaning without an electric hookup (shore power) we have no water pump in the trailer. I can easily boondock without lights. In fact, we have many times. I’m not so keen on hauling water, (which I have also done many times). Our setup is fairly basic compared to many other full-time travelers but at my more mature age I’d really rather not go without water.  So on our way home we will be looking for campgrounds with a few amenities. 

According to a few Facebook posts I’ve read, since I drive a gas-guzzling truck I (apparently) am not allowed to complain about the price of gas. Suffice it to say, we figure it will cost about $300 a day in gas, and  coupled with paying for less remote camping – we think we will be coasting in to Michigan on fumes.  It’s all part of the things one has to consider when opting for a bohemian lifestyle.

And, not to be political, I’ve never been able to figure out how people correlate the price of gas with the White House occupant – whatever the party. You can comment all you want. I’m not going to engage on that one.

Quartz found in 
New Mexico. I
actually crocheted
the chain using 
32 gauge wire.

In the meantime I’m reading about two books a week on my Kindle and playing around with the quartz stones the boys and I tumbled over the past month.  I’ve mounted them on jewelry findings and turned them into sun catchers. I suppose I could turn them into necklaces but I haven’t for two reasons: 1) I don’t like weight around my neck – that’s any type of weight; and 2) If I turn them into sun catchers I can hang all of them in the window at once and don’t have to decide which one I like best.

Stay safe. Be nice. Play well with others.

Random thoughts on a Sunday Afternoon

It’s Sunday, March 6, 2022. In 19 days we will be packing up one last time and heading back to Michigan.

Michigan in April is a tease. There is the promise of spring with the threat of one last snowstorm.  I’m not sure how I feel about it all.

We had some warm weather here last week and then a cold front came in and it turned rainy and cooler. I won’t say cold because anything above 50 in March to this Midwesterner is warm.

Yesterday we attended the boys’ baseball game and I layered a long-sleeve shirt with a short-sleeved jacket covered by a windbreaker. I was toasty. Our daughter, who has lived in Hawaii and/or California since 2008, was wearing an extra sweatshirt with the hood pulled tight around her face and wrapped herself up in a blanket.  Her teeth were chattering. Our friend was wearing warm clothes plus a knit hat and scarf. She leaves later this week for a six week assignment in Detroit.  There is no way to explain the wet, wind, cold and blooming dog poop (which appears in the melting snow) to someone who has never experienced it.

We are staying at Sweetwater Summit Regional Park for the next two weeks.  Campers are packed in and I find I don’t really like to be around people much. The people next to us allow their dog to wander into our campsite to relieve herself after dark. Unfortunately if the poor hapless animal should wander in during the day Petra would make short work of her. Petra loves people but is extremely dog aggressive. It’s a downside for our sweet rescue.  It would not be an issue if others were responsible pet owners.  I can’t tell you the number of times I hear, “Don’t worry my dog is friendly,” to which I reply, “Gosh, you are so lucky. Mine hates other dogs.”

So as Sunday morning marches into Sunday afternoon, I’m watching with detached interest as  trailers stream past ours in an organized exit. Campers have another two hours before checkout time, so it will be interesting to see how many campers were here for just the weekend. I suspect the neighbors are here for another week.  Watching all this is a reminder that this is the ebb and flow of our nomadic lifestyle.

But it’s been a quiet winter.  We’ve been on Grandma and Poppa duty every other week, so on the weeks we are off-duty we spend quiet days at the trailer. I’ve read a lot -- sometimes as many as three books a week on my Kindle. Yes, I have a Kindle. Regular books are far too heavy and take up too much space to keep in the trailer, and with Kindle Unlimited I can read as much as I like for $10 a month.  I’ve also been doing some wood burning projects, weaving on my small (hand-held) loom and

Tumbled rocks gathered in 
New Mexico

making sun catchers out of the rocks the boys and I polished in the rock tumbler we got them for Christmas. I’m trying to teach myself how to make wire wrapped pendants. Either I’m too particular or it’s not going well. 

Tomorrow we start Grandma and Poppa daycare again, and Tuesday is another baseball game… I think there is a trip to Legoland in the making before we leave. The theme park is less than five miles from our daughter’s apartment.

And so it goes. Another winter winds down.

The logic of camping

One of the things that one has to consider when living a nomadic lifestyle is finding a place to stay long-term. We have our summer months covered thanks to Kal Haven Outpost campground – as we can stay for the entire season. But I have to wonder, if they were open year-round what would our options be?

Here in California, due to the age of our trailer, we have found just one “long-term” campground where we can stay. And that long-term is 90 days.  Ok, I will confess, cost is another consideration. This season we paid $980 a month for our site. We’ve already been told the price will go up next season. I know as far as “rent” goes that’s pretty reasonable, but our first apartment was $165 a month (including heat, electric and cable). I guess I’m stuck in 1975

Lake Jennings

Long story short, in three days we will be moving to another campground (Sweetwater Summit) with a  14 day limit.  Our plan was to stay at Sweetwater for 14 days, and then finish out our stay at this campground (Lake Jennings). And here is where the convoluted conundrum comes into play. We can stay at Lake Jennings once in a 14 day period. The two weeks at Sweetwater ends three days before our 14-day ban expires.  If we were not doing babysitting duty, we’d just move to another location. That’s not possible. I found another campground where we could stay for four nights and then return to Lake Jennings. I told King our options -- traveling to Joshua Tree for a weekend was one;  staying at several of our other favorite remote locations was another; and making a reservation at this new campground was the third option. I stressed to him campgrounds fill quickly in the spring months so he needed to decide rather quickly. King spent a few days deciding and then said to make a reservation at the other campground for four nights. By that time there was one camp site left. A slow internet connection had me missing the reservation by six minutes.

I tried to explain all this to King, but I think a white board, calendar and flow chart would have been a better option than resorting to glaring at him over the campfire.  To be fair, if it weren’t for making reservations and being denied I would not be able to follow campground logic either.

I have probably mentioned before that many campgrounds limit the age of trailers to 10 years or newer. Ours will turn 40 next year. I’ve looked at newer trailers but the payments on this one ($0) remains rather enticing.  

At any rate we will be doing some remote camping for four days. I rather like the solitude.

So… on the everyday, mundane home front, we are entering into baseball season in California. The boys had a scrimmage Saturday. The season starts early, takes a break for summer, and resumes in the fall. Yesterday the boys’ team, the Giants, played Detroit.  It was nice to see the familiar “D” on the other team’s uniform. It was a long, drawn-out affair in what locals considered “chilly” weather. (About 65 degrees I guess). I couldn’t tell you who won. 

When we return to Michigan we will have missed all the school concerts and school plays. Hopefully we will be able to catch some soccer games. I’m fairly certain I will need to dig out our winter coats, wool hats, mittens and hand warmers to watch the games. Spring soccer in Michigan is a little more than “chilly.”

We also have a new great-granddaughter to spoil after we cross the “Pure Michigan” sign on I-94.

Our lives, despite not being what is considered conventional, are fairly normal. It’s a sharp contrast to the mothers, fathers, grandmas, grandpas and grandchildren in Ukraine.  Thinking of them and hoping the petulant child running Russia gets a sound spanking before he can inflict any more pain and suffering.

Gorilla on the Mountain

 
In my previous life (before retirement) I used to talk to a lot of people. I could strike up a conversation with a total stranger and was always up for learning a little something.

The gorilla is to the right 
of the house.

When we retired and took to the road, I was certain I would continue to do that, but I’ve found that isn’t the case and I rather like keeping to myself. That’s why yesterday, while watching our grandsons  enjoying the campground playground, I surprised myself by having a conversation with a mother and grandmother who were visiting for the day. One woman was from San Diego and the other from Lakeside – in other words they were locals.

The younger of the women told me about the Gorilla on the Mountain, clearly visible from the playground. I looked, it took me a few minutes but after concentrating there was no mistaking he was there. I can’t NOT see him any longer – and a quick Google search, by the way, confirmed he is a local legend.

Sometimes it pays to converse. We miss a lot when we keep to ourselves.

Yesterday King and I also took the boys out on Lake Jennings in a row boat.  Lake Jennings is a water supply reservoir in San Diego County.  It was created in 1964 to provide water to the local residents in Lakeside, California and is owned and operated by the Helix Water District. There is an onsite water treatment facility on the lake. It is a great fishing spot. The lake is routinely stocked with rainbow trout and lake bass.

We had the option of renting a boat with a motor but King and I thought being able to row along shore and look for eagles, ducks and fish swimming in the shallows would be fun. It wasn’t. Oh, don’t get me

The boys rowed for awhile.

wrong, we had a good time and the lake was great. Our rowing strength and stamina was a little lacking. 

Years ago my younger sister and I would swim across Lake Mill in Gobles, Michigan. One of us would row while the other swam and once we reached shore, we would switch. Back then I was clearly in much better shape than yesterday.

King started with the rowing duties; I took over. He spelled me. We let the boys try. We drifted a lot.  I guided us into the dock. We rented the boat for a half a day. We were on the water about an hour.

Today we brought the boys home, didn’t stay for lunch, came back to the trailer and King is napping. I will be sleeping as well within the hour.

While I was lying in bed last night, trying to find a comfortable position so as not to put too much pressure on my aching arms, I decided I needed to start walking to build up some stamina. I plotted my route in my head, downloaded a walking app, downed four ibuprofen and fell asleep.

Today napping sounds like a better plan.

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