Mississippi Sojourn, Sonoran Reprise

Either my computer skills, my comprehension of wireless operation or the internet itself had deserted me during my visit in Hattiesburg and the past two weeks here in Tucson. While the latter cause is improbable, I had been unable, up to this point, to catch or ride a wave long enough for substantial interface. Now, however, I have learned that, by the simple expedient of raising my mini-blinds, opening the window, sliding back the nylon screen, setting an external high-gain, dual-band, wireless-N transmitter on the window sill and maintaining axial alignment of my on-board antenna with the repeater that's less than a hundred feet from that window, I'm able to connect and hold a signal. Go figure.

My two-and-a-half week stopover with the Farmer and the Belle was simply the best. They are perhaps the most personally generous and delightfully refreshing people I know. While, like most of my Colorado friends, they suffer from Fox News Syndrome, their personal behavior belies their public opinions. They have shared their home and family with me now for a dozen years and make me truly feel a part of their lives. I left Hattiesburg in mid November restored and revitalized--and a few pounds heavier, thanks to the Belle's great cooking.

Now I'm back in the Sonora, after a largely uneventful and relatively comfortable trip across Louisiana, Texas and New Mexico.

I enjoyed Thanksgiving with my daughter, son-in-law and grandson, even my ex-wife--my second ex-wife, that is. And, for the first time ever, I didn't have to do any of the cooking. And it was delicious, thanks to the kids' hard work.

The Sonora is offering its usual autumnal selection of mild days and cool nights, sparkling with the low humidity that further tempers any extremes. We even managed a late-season night of rain that left next morning's air tingling with the scents of wet sand and aromatic desert shrubs. The chirps, twitters, songs and squawks of the real snow birds surround us. Last summer's quail chicks now sport their own topknots; they share the underbrush cover with the park's resident rabbits while rock doves snooze in the branches overhead--and I snooze in my bed.