Correction

It's a detail that few of you would recognize as incorrect, but my good good husband has procured me roadside internet access so that I can tell you that my father is in Balmorhea next to his sister, and a marker for his mother, who is interred in Romance, Arkansas.

That's all.

Mission, Part A, Accomplished

These volunteer sweet peas were growing where the house that my father shared with his brother in Balmorhea, Texas used to be. They made me think of my mother, who grew beautiful, beautiful, sweet peas -- my favorite flower -- in the yard of our family home in Southern California.

We walked a few blocks looking for the house... doubting ourselves and then shaking our heads. It should be right here on one of these two blocks... a corner lot... the big pecan tree in the front yard.

We ran into the local Justice of the Peace, who told me that he knew "Popeye" (my father's childhood nickname) very well. But none of the people I knew are still in Balmorhea, the small west Texas town where my father grew up and passed away -- with a roughly 40-year stay in California in between.

I really wanted to visit Balmorhea one more time. My mother and my brother Mark's ashes are nowhere, or everywhere (depending on how you want to look at it). But my father is somewhere... he's in the cemetery in Balmorhea... and even though I'm not a sentimental person, and I believe that death is the ultimate period-at-the-end-of-the-sentence-story-over X-out... I wanted to go there.

We turned right at Victor's gas station and started the short drive into the country (there's just a little bit of town and whole lot of country there), to the cemetery. I recognized soooo many names in that cemetery: Pittman, Kingston, Crenshaw... they were the names of my childhood dinner table, from my father's stories.

There was something unexpected at my father's headstone:

Someone had piled stones at his headstone, and placed an aluminum foil wrapped Maxwell House coffee can. There were incense sticks in the can... as if someone had come there many times and burned incense for my father. I didn't see anything similar on anyone else's grave

I have no idea who it was, but I'm glad they did.

In the months following my mother's death, my dad and I would sit up together. One night he told me that he had been lonely every day of his life before marrying my mother. He said that he thought I'd understand -- that he figured I was a lonely person, too. And I was.

He's next to his parents and sister, my Aunt Helen. There are wildflowers in the cemetery. And scrub, of course, and hard-packed ground... roadrunners and rabbits and in the distance there are hills. It may be a cliche, but it was peaceful. Eric and I each placed a pretty polished rock on his grave. I'm very, very, happy that we were there.

I carry my father with me in my chin & fingers & toes, in the way I describe the world, in the root of the stories I tell.

Yeehaw

It's another busybusy day. Last night we saw the bats flying from Carlsbad Caverns. It was an impressive sight. This morning we went back to Carlsbad Cavern National Park -- we never pass an opportunity to explore a cave, even if our exploration is relegated to the very beaten path.



I found the park beautiful, but not in the glorious way Yosemite is beautiful, or with Yellowstone's eerie beauty, or the Grand Canyons... well... grandeur.

The land seemed inhospitable -- like a hotel in the nasty little town of Belen, New Mexico. Even the plants were literally prickly.





Here Eric is in a short outcropping of rock that was home to many people over time, from prehistoric people to the Mescalero Apache. We spent some time there thinking about what that life might have been like, and reading about the uses of the native plants.



It was impossible to take good pictures inside the caverns. The formations were awesome.

Tonight we're in the small west Texas town of Pecos. We happened upon a festival this evening, where I ate the absolute best funnel cake ever (too hot to eat when first purchased). Eric and I each bought a 50 cent ticket for a cake walk, and of course Eric won!

Here's our homemade lemon pound cake:



It was nice to see the happy families: grandparents, parents, and children together having fun, listening to music, eating corn-on-the-cob and buying tickets for the dunking tank.

The sign at the border read "Welcome to Texas! Proud home of George W. Bush"

Trying not to hold it against 'em, seeing as they gave us a cake, and all.

Enchanted, I'm Sure

After the uber-niceness of AZ, New Mexico leaves much to be desired. So far, anyway.

We wanted to avoid the great sprawl of Albuquerque by staying in the little town of Belen. Belen had a Holiday Inn Express, our on-the-road Motel of choice, and we figured it was a safe enough bet for a quick over night stay.

Boy, were we wrong!

Belen is a mean little town with a heart of steel -- several hundred tons of steel -- as Belen exists only to serve the men and women who work the trains.

Weary travelers who arrive at many of the hotels in Belen are turned away, sleepy children and pregnant mothers in tow, because some of the large chain hotels in Belen will only rent to train employees. "Better empty rooms than a DRIVER in our beds" is the unofficial motto of Belen, that angry gash of a town that bleeds into the monotony of the New Mexico desert.

We arrived at our motel (luckily, one that deigned to rent to non-train-workers) at 10:00 PM. Exhausted and hungry we turned greedily to the 24 hour diner adjacent to our hotel, only to be told that the diner is only open 24 hours a day for train workers. For the rest us, those pitiful every-people who tour our great nation's National Parks in cars, the diner closed its doors at 10:00 PM.

I had barely had a sip of coffee at my continental breakfast in the morning when I was informed that the breakfast was being shut down -- at the hour of 9:30 AM (and I was still on Arizona time)! It seems that the train workers all leave early, in the motley town of Belen.


They ain't kidding.

Our hotel did provide us with a plate of stale, brickish, cookies. At first I was confused, but soon realized that the hard disks were akin to the hard tack that the train workers tuck into their worn leather lunch bags, next to the wax paper wrapped salt pork.

The wicked town of Belen services the train workers in more ways that one. Propriety keeps me from going into detail. Still, be warned: Don't let your teenage daughters within the city limits of Belen, New Mexico.

Belen, New Mexico: Whoreish, broken, empty. Teenage boys from neighboring towns dare each other to ride their skate boards down the diesel-choked main drag. Bad little children in Albuquerque are told that if they don't straighten up, they'll be visited in their dreams by Belen Hoteliers.

The children of Albuquerque are remarkably well-behaved.

Standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona

Seriously. Here's the picture:



Today was a busy day. We spent more time than we'd anticipated at the meteor crater and the Petrified Forest National Park. We listened to presentations, went for walks, watched films, and looked at the amazing landscape.

We saw fossils and chunks of metor, the ruins of a village, petroglyphs, amazing multi-colored rock formations and petrified trees.

Must sleep!

But, one final point: the people in Arizona were crazy nice. I've never seen anything like it!

Grand

We spent the day in Grand Canyon National Park, and it was soooo cool. The landscape is astonishing. It's hard to even imagine the eons & eons that passed while that muddy, 300 foot wide, Colorado River carved a canyon ten miles across (with a little help from the wind and the rain.



Don't let people tell you about the crowds at the Grand Canyon in the summer. We've braved Yosemite in peak season. The Grand Canyon was cake.



There are about 150 wild California Condors in the whoooole world, and this one swooped down so low over us at one point that I swear I could have touched it with a good ladder. Here it is considerably higher. A TEN FOOT WING SPAN, PEOPLE!



We went on a fascinating geology walk led by a park ranger -- we love that kinda thing -- and learned about those intriguing layers of rock and color.



I know I always say it, but it's always true: pictures can't do it justice. At least mine can't.



Love, love, love.

It was a great day.

G'morning

I went to the Grand Canyon during one of the rare family vacations of my youth. It made surprisingly little impression on me. I barely remember it.

I believe we went to the Grand Canyon and Flagstaff, AZ to visit my father's sister on the same trip. I think it was snowing. I'm not sure.

I would have to ask my brother Paul for confirmation. No one else who went on that holiday is still living -- not my mother, or father, or brother Mark, or Aunt Helen, or Charlie, the family dog. Charlie would likely be as fuzzy on the details as I.

How do you retrace your steps when you're not sure where you've been?

See Blog Entry Below

Yesterday (Tuesday) was another good day, as predicted. We spent the morning having loads o' fun gambling.

We enjoy playing games, and casino games are no exception. We make very small bets, which allows us to play for a long time. Having fun and being able to play for a long time without losing bunches of money is our goal. Winning is just the icing on the cake, and this time there was plenty of icing. See figure 1




Fig. 1: That's 52,850 pennies, or $528.50. And all I had to do was press a button!



We met the Las Vegas division of the family for dinner that evening. It was wonderful to see everyone... my sister-in-law & nieces & great nephews & great niece.

Spending time with them makes me happy. They're just-plain-fun AND they remind me of the good times I had growing up... holidays and family birthdays and drawing with chalk on the sidewalk.

After dinner, and more gaming, we went to a late night show at our hotel. We were comped tickets for a vampire-themed "erotic" show. It was pretty silly, but still entertaining. The eroticism didn't approach the naughtiness you'd find in a Christina Aguilara video, which was both a relief and a disappointment.

After the show we went to a 70's themed nightclub, complete with pounding disco and a light up dance floor a la Saturday Night Fever. Fun! And then more gambling! What a night!


I had to take a picture of this classic L.V. sign. Las Vegas isn't everyone's cup o' joe -- most of our friends claim to not even like the place -- but I think it's heaps o' fun.


After meeting family today for lunch we left Las Vegas. We drove for several hours through intermittently sunny and stormy desert, and saw the most amazing rainbows. We tried to take pictures, but they don't tell the whole rainbow story. See figure 2


Fig. 2: This is actually a ground-to-ground double rainbow, but you can't see it here. Rats!

When the dessert and scrub gave way to pine trees we were very, very, happy. Tonight we're in Williams, AZ, the evening air is crisp, and our summer vacation continues to rock.

All You Need Is

Yesterday was an excellent day. We made our way into Las Vegas slowly, and arrived with plenty of time to gamble and rest before attending the 10:00 PM performance of Cirque du Soleil's Love.

Eric and I sat side-by-side at the Mirage, making small slot machine bets and smiling at each other. I felt so lucky. I still do.

The theater was comfortable (an important factor for me these days) and the show was amaaaaaazing. Truly. No article, photograph, or clip could ever do it justice.

The pain from cancer is starting to return. This is not big news. I've been two months without weekly treatment -- two glorious months -- and so the familiar ache begins. My spine, my pelvis, my hip... and the first green sprouts of wheezing in my lungs.

When I was feeling so awful from treatment, I forgot what it was like to feel well. In the short time I've felt well, I forgot what it was like to feel bad.

I must be the world's simplest person.

I looked in the mirror yesterday and saw eyebrows. Somehow they'd snuck up on me. I have eyebrows and eyelashes. Isn't that a beautiful thing? And my nose doesn't bleed and my fingers aren't blistered, and and and ...

Eric's at the pool and I'm still in bed and it will be another a good good day.

Road

I liked being in the car with Eric today. We drove across the Mojave, all brown and grey with a few twisted, sparse, whiskery, trees. It was beautiful, in it's fashion, and from the comfort of our air-conditioned vehicle.

We're good together on road trips (and cruises and work weeks and mornings, evenings, afternoons). We listened to the Smoke Signals soundtrack -- a good choice for the landscape. And then we arrived here in Barstow, California, where highways converge at the corner of Fast Food Lane and Outlet Stores Drive.



The parking lot landscaping of Barstow meets the high desert

BUT... we had Tommy's Original (that Los Angeles classic) for dinner, and now we're lounging about the hotel room.



The glorious fast food of my childhood (and many others' who grew up in the Los Angeles area): Tommy's Chili Tamale . A beef tamale, smothered in chili, and served with a slice of American cheese. God Bless America!

Life is good, even if it doesn't feel all that long.

All's Fair

It's a travel day, but I'm no where near ready to travel. Eric is ready. He just babumped babumped his bag down the stairs. Me? I'm drinking a lazy cup of coffee and fussing with the web machine. I haven't begun to pack, or considered what to bring.

Here are a few pictures from the fair:



Nothing unusual about disco balls hanging from the trees at the OCF. We attended a disco party at the Cajun booth one night. They were slow getting started -- not unlike my current lallygagging re: packing -- and I threatened to leave them for a square dance down the way that was "all set up".

It was funny at the time. For reals.



Before picture-taking began to feel burdensome and alien to just plain having fun, I planned to take pictures of anything I saw that was "new". This crazy tree was new (to me, anyway).



What would the Oregon Country Fair be without friends? Luckily, I've never had to find out.



Leah and Michelle are fun. In fact, they're so fun that next year I want to be on Team Michelle. If I have to wear red lipstick, so be it. Who's that fella who snuck into the picture?

No more excuses. I'm off to pack!

Briefly

We're leaving again tomorrow, but it's nice to be home today. It's been such a good summer so far -- lucky, lucky, me.

Home Again

The fair was fun this year. It was definitley different -- the group of folks we camp with were divided among different camps, and there were additions to our camp, as well. One of the new folks was a member of an iconic rock-and-roll band, and he was so nice that he went a long toward reversing my strongly held preferance for NOT meeting musicians.

They usually kinda suck.

I danced & danced and laughed a lot, saw oodles of friends, received one of the most lavish compliments ever, ate cheesecake, had a massage, learned a few dirty jokes from a 92 year old woman, spent time on a super-lux rock star bus, followed the Eric Train from show to show, and the porta-potties weren't even that bad this year!

We're home now, but will leaving again shortly.

What a nice summer!

Yawn II

Here we are in OR -- saw my brother Paul last night, which is always a hoot. Now we're getting ready to eat some breakfast & head to the fair.

Let the Hippie Fest begin!

Yawn.

It's a travel day, but I just woke up! Clearly we weren't planning an early start, as I haven't even started packing yet.

Today we'll drive up I5 to Ashland, Oregon. Ashland's a pretty town with outstanding public spaces and a perennial Shakespeare festival. BUT, it's a little quaint for my tastes. Too much potpourri for sale, if y'know what I mean, and so few non-white people that you COULD shake a stick at 'em (and for all I know that occasionally happens).

In all the times I been to Ashland I've never seen a play...it's kinda crazy. But we're always visiting friends or passing through.

Ashland, OR DOES have the finest breakfast I've ever encountered. And that's what I'll be having tomorrow around this time.

Guess I'd better start packing....

'round and 'round

How the Wheel of Fortune spins! One day you're swimming in the warm Pacific ocean, and the next day you're hooked up to an IV and sitting in a blue plastic recliner. The Aredia, while not a "chemotherapy", has laid me low. I'm tired, achish, fevery.

I read today on the web machine that "jews are outraged" because the Pope has ruled that the old, Latin, pre-Vatican II, mass can be performed by priests again. This is outrageous because the old school mass calls for the conversion of the jews.

Duh.

Isn't that a hallmark of Christianity? Conversion or extermination? Well, not so much extermination as CONSCIOUS, ETERNAL, TORMENT.

Personally, I'm happy when religious people start acting like religious people. It's good to be able to clearly see them for what they are... including the folks who try to wash their hands of the nastiness by claiming they are just upholding a "cultural tradition".

What would the Flying Spaghetti Monster do?

We're baaaack!

We're home! Travel days are difficult... particularly so when there's not a beautiful ocean to swim in at the end of it!

I loved our trip, but i'm glad to be here. Unbelievably, I have to go for an infusion of Aredia tomorrow. I'd totally forgotten, and the realization is an unhappy one.

Phooey.

Happy Birthday, America

It's the Fourth of July, and Eric and I are finishing up the last full day in Mexico. We'll go swimming in the morning, but it won't be the same. We won't have a full day of sun and waves stretching before us. We won't feel rich.

We swam & swam today, just as we did yesterday. Yesterday, the last swim-of-the-day was a loooong one for me. The ocean was choppy and more turbulent than is typical here. Even the big waves here are usually just towers of marshmallow fluff, but yesterday afternoon they were stronger.

The waves had a little more oomph, and I was delighted. I played in the roughish waters for a full 1.5 hours as the sun hung low in the sky. Oddly, when I returned to the beach the waves CONTINUED! The waves followed me to the lounge chair, and later followed me to dinner. After dinner the waves followed me to my room, and to bed! It was wiggley Waggley world, and I have no explanation for it.

This has been SUCH a good vacation. It was really perfect... perfect to begin our summer with a few days at the Atlantis Casino and Resort, Every Player's Paradise, our home away from home, and then to come to this amazing beach and ocean.

These are the books I've read, all of which were recommended to me for my trip, or given to me in the week before:

No Touch Monkey by Ayun Halladay

Not So funny When It Happened edited by Tim Kahill

Freakonomics by Steven Levitt and Stephen Dubner

The Truth About Diamonds by Nicole Ritchie (I said I didn't want any celebrity tell-alls, but I read this book in one relaxing afternoon.)

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part Time Indian by Sherman Alexie (I'm a Sherman Alexie fan, and this was an uncorrected proof of his not-yet-published book for young adults. Thank you, Tomas da Silva!)

Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen

I can't believe we're going home tomorrow.

We'll be home for a few days, then we're heading up to Oregon to meet friends for the Fair, which is an annual roadtrip and exercise in silliness.

And then I have a Mission.

I'm not going to tell folks what my mission is until it's completed, because there's no real explaining it. It's just something I want to do before I die. Something that I want to do because I'm dying.

It's going to take a few weeks.

Y'know, when I was first diagnosed as terminally ill -- and I hate to keep harping on it, but it's the unfortunate truth -- I was broken hearted. My heart was absolutely shattered to pieces, because I wanted MORE. I wanted more time, more life, more Eric. I wanted to grow old with him, anad I worried about who would take care of him when I'm gone.

I looked around at a world that suddenly seemed brighter and healthier and more full of promise for everyone but me, and my body ached with envy.

That was two years ago, and the truth is that most of those feelings have stayed the same. But good gosh, the last nine days on the beach has felt like an eternity! Two years is too long to carry that kind of sadness and worry, and so I don't. I just visit it from time to time.

Two years.

But by the time the cancer stopped making me hurt, the treatment started to make me sick. And by the time I was granted this chemotherapy reprieve, I was kinda thinking that maybe dying woulda been better. And now I feel pretty darn good, and I figure there's a thing or two I should do while I can.

So I'm going to try. And I, the least goal-oriented person you're ever likely to meet (or NOT meet, maybe), have a Mission. It's small and it's doable. We'll see.

Hoy

We went into Puerto Vallarta last night to walk along El Malecon, eat American food (onion rings), and have a look around. The sunset was beautiful, and there were interesting statues all along El Malecon. Once the sun went down the street came alive with performers, music, families strolling and older people positioning themselves on benches.

There were many billboards touting luxury condos and Hard Rock Cafe as we approached Puerto Vallarta, but prominenet among the advertisements for Senior Frog's was a sign for "CryoGen - Stem Cell Banking". Odd.

We're leaving our beach again this morning -- probably for the last time, until we have to leave -- to check out the little towns and beaches to the north, Sayulita & Punta Mitra.

Only three nights left! It feels like a long, long, vacation, but the end still approaches too rapidamente.


sunset in Puerto Vallarta


One of many statues along El Malecon


Sand sculpture of the Virgin Mary