Thank you, Dad.

I like to drive on old, rough, dirt roads and trails that wander up and down and in and out and around and about.
For pleasure.
Not for work, or to get to and from work.
I call it jeeping. I do it for fun.
Don and I were doing some jeeping last week. We had gone many miles, up one side of a mountain and down the other side. We had seen no one. That is the kind of jeeping we like.
Then we came around a curve and saw a pickup stopped in the (very narrow) road. Three cowboys were standing by the front of the truck. Apparently, they were having a "palaver." That is what cowboys do at trucks, corrals, cafes, and feed stores. Palaver.
My father was an accomplished palaver-er. That's 'cause he was a cowboy.
Well, we had to stop while they moved the pickup to one side so we could drive past. We got a good look at the cowboys while they did this. We are not bad at palavering our own selves, so we pulled up beside the moved-over pickup and stopped between the cowboys. There was one on my (passenger) side looking down the slope. I asked what they were doing. "Looking at our cattle." Sure enough, in the wash at the bottom of the slope, at least a half mile away, were some cattle. Meanwhile, Don was shootin' the breeze (that's another form of palaver) with the men on his (driver's) side. So, after more palavering, we determined that the cowboys had come up the mountain to check on a fence mending crew.
How many cowboys does it take to check on the fence? Three. One to look over the crew and evaluate their competency, one to drive the pickup, and one to keep the others company and thus avoid the chores around the ranch.
During their reconnoiter, they had observed that several head of cattle had passed through the in-need-of-repair fence, and were grazing in the wrong place. Their palaver was directed at correcting the situation. The cattle were over half a mile away from the road, down a steep slope thickly covered in scruboak and manzanita. Not fit terrain for a man on foot. The cowboys had determined that the solution was to drive back to the ranch, saddle some horses and ride out to drive the cattle back through the hole in the fence before the  repair crew had reached that point. They pointed out where the ranch hq was located, "way over there in the valley below that jutting rock." Maybe fifteen miles by air. Maybe forty miles by old, rough, dirt road that wanders up and down and in and out and around and about.
As I said, fun. But not for work. Not followed by a ten mile ride in the saddle over brush covered hills to locate and drive cattle that might have moved to a new spot. Or might be scattered and skittish.
I mentioned that we got a good look at the cowboys. None of the three stood straight. All three were bent and stiff.
So, thank you, Dad, for getting out of ranching before we would have become cowboys, working in country that is much better suited for jeeping than for working in.

Adventures in Art

Those of you who follow Peggie on Facebook may already know that she has now sold two of her pieces.
No, I don't intend to cover each and every sale from now on, but the first two are significant steps.
Her FASA (Fiber Artists of Southern Arizona) group hung a show at The Source, which is the salon where Peggie gets her hair done, last month. One of Peggie's pieces sold the first day. Then, last weekend, the group participated in Open Studios by occupying a classroom at St. Gregory's school. They all took examples of their work, but the idea was to be able to talk about, and demonstrate techniques they use. Not surprisingly, Peggie set up to demo rust dying. But, one couple talked her into selling a small piece we've had hanging in our dining room for a while. She had to make up a price and a title for it on the spot, as this event was not intended as a sales venue.
She is busy now getting some additional pieces finished for the up-coming show at the Jewish Community Center from December 14-January 3.
We are quite proud that Peggie is now a professional Artist!

got my head on straight

I mailed my ballot weeks ago, so the election is out of my hands. I cannot control the outcome.
So, tonight I will watch the Wildcats play basketball. It is not on TV, but will be live streamed. By watching, I will help the 'Cats win. Really. We will win  if I cheer.
Unless they lose. Then it is Peggie's fault.

An "unexpected surprise."

Life has been decidedly unadventurous lately.
We are not complaining. Unadventurous can be very good.
We are looking forward to the PAC 12 basketball season. We went to the Red/Blue Game in person. It is the first public intrasquad scrimmage. We got to see the returning players and the seven highly rated recruits. We think they will be a pretty good team for the next few years unless significant numbers jump straight to the NBA.
Then we went to the White Mountains one last time. We had left the trailer in Eagar and had to go get it anyway, so we spent the week up there. We took some beautiful drives on some roads that were new to us. On one of them, we encountered an abandoned, weathering cabin. It was time for lunch, so we stopped long enough to eat and explore. The aging cabin provided Peggie with interesting patterns to include in fabric dying and quilting. A nearby outbuilding which had been burned to the ground, provided some interesting rusty pieces. When we remounted to continue the drive, Peggie said, "That was an unexpected surprise." As opposed to the more common expected surprise?
Looking for other interesting new-to-us drives, I studied the map and discovered a road to the top of Escudilla Mountain. The road took us to 10,200 feet and circled a meadow called Terry Flat. It wasn't exactly flat, but compared to the steep climb up and back down, I guess it is relatively flat. Escudilla Mountain suffered near total destruction in the 2011 Wallow Fire. Burned areas are being logged to salvage as much unburned timber as possible. We stopped at a pile of trimmings to look for usable twigs and I had another unexpected surprise. Some poor soul had forgotten his pick axe. It has an axe blade on one side and a flat pick on the other side. A great camping tool. Now it is mine. We got a terrific view of New Mexico from the eastern side of the mountain.
We visited a museum and visitor center in Springerville where we met Brenda. She directed us to a wildlife area outside of town. It is headquartered at an old homestead where the original owners had planted copious numbers of trees. The visitor center is in the original native-stone house. It is dedicated to education on the management of area wildlife. Brenda's husband works for Game and Fish, and runs the place.
Over the entire five days we saw not one wild animal until we were almost home and passed a lone coyote trotting along the road just outside of Winkleman.
We are happy that Sitka and Skagway did not have a tsunami adventure, and hope that White Plains does not have too much Sandy adventure. And Casey, that is a terrific pot bellied costume!

The Zen of Errand Running

I had a list today. A to-do list. A honey-do list.
I had to wake up and get up a little earlier than I probably would have. We order grass fed meat products and eggs from a rancher south of Willcox. They deliver to a park nearby at 8:30 on a Saturday morning about every five weeks. Today. I arrived at 8:30. Hadn't had my breakfast yet. I didn't get up that early.
It was maybe (still is) the most perfect day, weather wise, since last spring sometime. So, I rolled down the window and listened to the radio. The delivery was 25 minutes late. I didn't care. By then, I was sitting on the tailgate watching some hawks and some walkers/runners on the park's trails.
Back home, I fixed and ate breakfast, read the paper, had an extra cup of coffee.
By a quarter to eleven I was on the way to complete the list. Costco for gas. No line. Pull right to the pump, note that the price has fallen again. I always try to guess how much gas it will take. I was off by less than half a gallon. I remember three years ago, pulling into Tonopah, Nevada on the last quarter of a gallon. Today, I still had four and a half. I decided I should take advantage of Costco's snack bar. Nowhere else can you get a quarter pound hot dog and a drink for a buck and a half. On the way there, I passed the cart corral. One of the carts is loaded with boxes. Just the type Peggie was looking for when we were rearranging the studio. So I nabbed them. Serendipity.
Then to The Home Depot. Need fence posts and some other things. Do you know where they keep the fencing in The Home Depot? Me neither. But, I am in no hurry. The fencing is in the farthest back corner beyond all the lumber and blocks. Some other folks are there trying to decide if they want a kit-in-a-box for a dog run, or if it is better to buy the pieces separately. So they have called for assistance. I wait until they have decided, then snag the staffer. No, they don't cut the fence posts. But I realize that I have several hack saws, so I buy the 10 1/2 foot pipe. I even already know that I can carry very long things like that in the truck by opening the back window and letting it extend into the cab. It is much more fun to shop at The Home Depot on Saturday morning when I haven't been working all week, and don't have to work next week, and if it takes 45 minutes instead of 15, so what?
Next stop, the library. Drop off some books and pick up some that have been held on reserve. Reserve is the best. Even though I have lots of time, (as stated above) it is so convenient to look for books on the website and have the library staff pull them, set them aside, and email that they are ready. Sweet.
Now to the grocery. Years ago, when money was tighter, I shopped the ads, clipped coupons, and went to three super markets in one day to get the absolute best prices every week. Now, the savings are automatically put on my discount card, but I will still go to more than one store if I know that certain brands or products are less expensive or just plain better.
So, again, I took the time to search for the three things I needed at the Walmart Market Place. When I got in the checkout line, I was number two. The lady in front of me, and the cashier were chattering like old friends, with frequent pauses in the check out process because sometimes you just have to use your hands or make eye contact to get the point across.  The cashier, I learned by eavesdropping, is 73 years old and unable to retire because Social Security is not enough. The customer, too, couldn't foresee any time when retirement would be a reality.
Well, that was all I needed to zen out. I read all the covers of all the magazines, looked longingly at the variety of candy bars, and relished the fact that I am retired. This is the last item on my list. The day is outstanding. If I was really in a hurry, I should have gone to the self-check aisle.
Nope. Sometimes you just have to be grateful not to be working the cash register at Walmart at 73. And appreciate that the woman who is doing that is friendly and wishes you a good day.

The adventure that is IKEA

We had to go to Scottsdale yesterday. Peggie had an appointment with an eye specialist there. I went to drive, because she would have her eyes dilated.
After the appointment we went to the Shemer Gallery in Phoenix for a fiber arts show. There were some very interesting, and varied pieces. Most of them were not in a class you would call quilts. It is a good display.
Then we stopped at IKEA. I do not like IKEA. I like the stuff they have. Lots of interesting stuff. I don't like that once you enter, the only way out is by going through the entire 1000 acre store. So, I took my book, and sat in the lunch room reading while Peggie searched for some frames she wants for some of her art pieces. The first time she returned, she had found a sofa that is comfortable and reasonably priced. Okaaay, not frames. The second time she returned, she had found a dresser she has been thinking would work well in her studio as a base for her cutting and work table. It was in the "as is" area at 40% off. That means it is already put together, a big plus when buying at IKEA.
The frames she originally went after did not come in the color she wanted.
Okay. So measure the dresser. Go outside and measure the truck. It will fit. Barely. If we are lucky.
We have straps to secure it, because of bthianni (aka BettyAnn). So we lined up lots of help from IKEA staff, got it purchased and loaded and strapped in.
Then we drove home. By the way (BTW to tweeters), IKEA is in Phoenix, so it is a long drive. Well, not too long.
Anyway, when we arrived home, the helpful IKEA staff were not around. So we had to unload this dresser, now twice the size as when we put it in, and carry it into the house all by ourselves.
Today, we (yes, I helped) did a lot of rearranging in the studio to incorporate the new furniture.
The good news is that it works well. The bad news is that two would work even better.
Oh boy. We get to make another trip to IKEA pretty soon.

Tourist for a day

Casey and her BFF Michaela swung through Tucson and picked me up on the way to Bisbee for the day.
Michaela is a history buff and teacher who recently moved to Delaware (it's a small state on the central East coast) and was here for a visit. I went along because I like to go places and Bisbee is an interesting place and a good drive. We had to stop at Eegee's on the way out, because Casey and Michaela needed a fix, and  Eegee's is only in Tucson.
We went by way of Benson, St. David, and Tombstone. We were amazed to see half a dozen Highway Patrol cars northbound. Later we learned that, unfortunately, a border patrol agent had been killed just east of Bisbee that morning.
In Bisbee, we stopped to view the Lavender Pit. I had always assumed it was named for the color of the rock exposed around its terraced walls. Not so. It was named for Harrison Lavender, who was a mining engineer and superintendent at the mine for many years. Then we went to the visitor center and booked a ride on the Queen Mine tour. Doing that dropped my IQ by ten points. "Smart tourist" is an oxymoron, and "dumb tourist" is redundant. I seldom do "tourist" things in my home territory, maybe for that reason. Even so, I have always wanted to take the tour, because it is the only safe way to get into an underground mine, and with a guide, you get lots of interesting info. And we did. The guide was good at his job (I know, because I am a professional guide, myself) providing fascinating facts with just the right amount of good humor. We were outfitted in yellow slickers, hard hats, and flashlights and rode about a third of a mile into the tunnel on a tiny train. We made two stops inside where we learned some of the tools that had been used between 1880 and 1975, and viewed some of the ore body that is still in there. The guide seemed pretty confident that mining will someday resume in the mountain if copper prices remain relatively high. The ore body is high-grade enough to extract if they use the open pit method, but too costly for underground techniques.
Then we wandered downtown for a bit and discovered that half the shops close on Tue/Wed. That was fine with us, as we didn't need anything, anyway.
We came back by way of Sierra Vista just to see different country, and back in Tucson, took Michaela to Mosaic Dos because Delaware doesn't seem to have good Mexican food restaurants and she was in withdrawal. Michaela denies having a problem, but when you "need" Eegee's and chile rellenos, how else can you describe it?