Short timer

Soon it will be time to leave Tucson. Already the heat has tempted me to turn on the rig’s air conditioner once or twice. So far I’ve resisted. But the cool mountains beckon. Unfortunately, they’re still a bit too cool. In fact, it’s supposed to snow at home tomorrow.

In the park most of the mid-winter RVers, chiefly the Canadian contingent, have been replaced by Mud Season visitors from the Rockies. Mud Season is how us mountain folk refer to Spring. Only place I know where Spring is nothing to get excited about. Up to home every driving and walking surface that isn’t paved will be a quagmire. Many of the Forest Service roads won’t open until the middle of June; until they firm up traffic would simply trench them out.

Meanwhile I’ve completed several of the projects I had planned for my camper trailer. The bed’s been replaced with the new rocker recliner (Luv ya’, babe) with two four-drawer cabinets filling in for the under-bed storage that was lost in the exchange. The cabinets are much more convenient. And I still have the jackknife couch and the dinette for beds just in case, like if the Crown decides to quarter troops with me.

There’s a new large capacity convection toaster oven installed under the cook top. I also reinforced the load-bearing capability of both that cabinet and the microwave cabinet above the cook top. To keep the interior cooler I’ve rigged insulated sun shades for the windows and added an exhaust fan and a small oscillating fan.

Some projects remain. Still on my tewdew list is my kitchen counter extension. Like many rigs (other than the million-dollar behemoths), kitchen space is all but nonexistent. The counter extension will quadruple my work surface as well as providing a work area that’s raised a few inches, making it scads more comfortable for us taller types. And then I want to make an awning anchor system that will utilize the weight of my truck; still have a few wrinkles to iron out, though.

But diverse emotions abide: while I’m eager to return to Colorado, I’m sorry to think about leaving the Sonora. Ah, well, the increasing temperatures over the next six weeks will probably cure that sentiment.

Man vs Wild

Ah, the wild life. And the wildlife.

Just past midnight a week or so ago, my neighbors, Merle and Lynn¾a normally staid and quiet Canadian couple¾exited their travel trailer with all manner of whooping and thumping, raising an unholy ruckus that awakened everyone in our corner of the RV park. Fearing I might be missing a good party, I stuck my head out and asked what the fuss was all about.

Turns out that two javelina were under the Canadians’ trailer, rooting around in the bags of aluminum empties the Canadians had stored there. The javelina (HAV-ah-lee-nah), small, hairy wild hogs also known as peccary, scampered off, leaving only their musty scent on the still desert air.

Even though we are surrounded by Tucson, our wild enclave along the river continues to support a population of commonly rural residents. Besides the wild pigs, solitary jack rabbits and herds of quail, the coyotes continue their evening serenades, siren songs to pet dogs who sometimes end up on the coyotes’ menu. Then the other afternoon I spotted a road runner that was so tall I wasn’t at first sure what was speeding across the sand. His legs a blur, the spindly bird gave credence to the image of one of my all-time favorite cartoon characters. Made me smile.

Character Flaws

Deepest apologies for the long absence—but I've been on a honeymoon! And it was love at first sight!

Early December. I'm Christmas shopping, wandering with only minimal purpose, idly scanning both products and patrons. Suddenly, across the sales floor, in the midst of the gadabout shoppers and glassy-eyed salespeople, appears a vision in warm golden green brocade. She's broad and tall, with full arms and a plump, yet firm, back. I knew in an instant that we were meant for each other. Afraid to lose her in the rush, I plow through the holiday crowd. At last, breaking free, I rush the last few yards and throw myself into the arms of the most seductive recliner I have ever met. Three days later we moved in together; the intervening months have been one long orgy of unadulterated relaxation.

My extreme R&R—and the fact that I refuse to pay for internet service nor to much inconvenience myself in finding hot zones—has resulted in my thoughtlessly long absence from the waves. Hey, whaddaya want? So I'm not just lazy, but cheap too. Believe me, those are not my worst features.

Anyway, for the moment, I’m back.

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.

Outbreak

I was delayed in St. Louis's less-than-delightful cold and rain two more days recovering from a minor illness. Then I enjoyed two days and nights in cold and rain headed through Illinois, Kentucky, Tenessee and into Mississippi. I did take time to visit the confluences of the Mississippi with both the Missouri and Ohio Rivers. There seems to be something sacred about the confluence of waters, and those two are major.

I hadn't seen the sun in nearly a week, an odd experience for a Coloradan, especially one from the San Luis Valley, where we see the sun 360 days a year. Around Tupelo, just about the time I began to consider the advisability of sacrificial offerings, the sun finally broke out. Unfortunately, so did a case of the shingles!

As the outbreak was, mercifully, more annoying than painful, after seeing a doctor I decided to push on to Meridian. Once here, since I was on my way to visit an already sick friend who was vulnerable to chicken pox, I decided to lay over a week and recover myself.

Strange trip.

St.Louis

Cold and rainy, but when it's not raining it's actually quite damp.

The Otter is his usual temperate and courtly self.

And with the Otter I can be my real self: an overbearing and obnoxious know-it-all--whether it's due to his gentle tolerance or his covert inspiration I'm not certain. What's more, he's the only person I know who can argue with me without getting upset. Including me. I will stoop to name-calling before I'll admit I'm wrong.

Did I mention I love to argue? About anything. I don't even have to know what I'm talking about, and that covers a fairly wide range of topics.

So the Otter, with the help of the (Legal) Beagle, another exceptional former classmate, has been taking me on a whirlwind tour of unique Gateway City eateries. There's a passel of 'em.

This is grand!