A Handy Hint and Herb's Ability to Catch Fish

Yesterday I had to have a pound of chicken to prepare a recipe.

We don't carry a scale in the coach, so I wasn't sure just how much I needed. Herb had a great idea--why not use his fish scale. This handy little gadget hasn't been used because he hasn't caught a fish worthy of being weighed in some time. So I put some chicken in a plastic bag, punched a hole near the top of the bag and suspended it from the hook on the scale. Worked like a charm.

For those of you who would cast aspersions on Herb's fishing skills, here's a shot of a lingcod he caught last year off the Mexican coast. It was the largest fish caught on the charter boat that day. He had it filleted (good thing! I'm not into that) and we had it for supper. Truly a great meal.

Herb hopes to catch fish again some day. I have mixed feelings about it myself. Skinning, gutting and cleaning fish are not skills I've mastered along the way.

It Don't Get Any Better Than This

Ever heard of Guindon? We have one of his cartoons, cut from a book, framed and sitting on the dashboard of our motor home. It has followed us from our farm in Kentucky through two previous motor homes.

The cartoon, a line drawing, shows a man and woman seated outside an old travel trailer and pickup truck. They’re both hefty folk; he’s in a shirt and much-too-short tie, she’s clad in a jacket and slacks with a babushka covering her hair. Their feet are resting on a big wooden spool. Nearby there’s an old-fashioned radio and a carp draped over a trash can. The couple appears supremely contented. The caption reads, “It don’t get any better than this.” Although our living situation does not include a dead carp, a spool for a table or an old travel trailer, this grammatically incorrect sentiment precisely expresses our current state of mind.

We were contented at the farm for many years, raising chickens and growing vegetables and herbs, amazed at our good fortune to find such a haven. We had a long commute to work, but coming home was like going on vacation. Our 18 acre farm was a refuge from the city, from crowds, and from the urban jungle where we had last lived.

As we grew older, the chickens tied us down. It’s very difficult to find a chicken sitter. Keeping the weeds out of the garden was a losing battle. The summer heat and humidity was exhausting, and Kentucky bugs of all sorts were pervasive.

On retirement, we sold the farm and took to the road in a motor home. The freedom was incredible; no weeds and no chickens with which to cope. We traveled through Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Maine, Connecticut, Virginia, Tennessee, Arkansas, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Nevada, Oregon, Idaho, Wyoming, Montana, South Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin and Michigan in our first year. We found our winter “home” along the Colorado River. We’ve seen God’s creation and its beauty in many forms: Mountain, desert, seashore, lakes and rivers.

We don’t see ourselves living in a house or apartment any time soon. The coach is comfortable and includes all that we need. When problems arise, only to be expected, Guindon’s cartoon reminds us of the advantages we have. We’re content with our lifestyle and looking forward to continuing our travels.

Fisherman's Retreat

Here's Herb at one of three lakes at our campground. You'll notice he's not fishing. The lakes are supposed to be stocked with catfish and trout; but everyone seems to be catching catfish. He isn't about to pay $15 to catch a catfish.

It's sunny but cool--sweater weather. Leaves are falling all around us

Lots of motorhomes and fifth wheels left today. We'll be leaving on Wednesday for Lake Havasu City.

We're Full!

We're at home after an excellent dinner at John and Libbi's. Everyone was appreciative of a Thanksgiving dinner without turkey. We had spaghetti with homemade sauce, garlic/asiago cheese bread, Caesar salad, tomato and mozzarella salad with balsamic vinaigrette, tiramisu and/or coconut cream pie and various gourmet desserts.

It was so great to see my brother and his wife again. I love Libbi's garden. I remember it as a bare dirt lot with a big German shepherd in residence. It's changed!

Thanksgiving in San Timoteo Canyon

We're having a great Thanksgiving dinner. Herb is eating leftover crock-pot roast, potatoes and carrots (for him, turkey is in the same category with meatloaf), while I'm chowing down on tuna mac.

Last year we were staying at a campground that put on a terrific potluck dinner with the turkeys furnished by campers who each agreed to host a table. The food was very good (but not as good as the church potlucks back home in Kentucky).

One of the officers of this membership campground stood, we thought, to offer a prayer. No deal. He suggested each of us take a few moments to "reflect." I couldn't help but echo our friend Steve Brown who once said of non-believers on this holiday, "They don't even know who to thank." We found it sad.

They're having a dinner here today. We decided we'd just have a day to ourselves. We've a great deal for which to be thankful. God has blessed us, undeserving as we are, with the opportunity to travel and enjoy this glorious country. As we travel, we see that the magnificence of His creation far outshines anything man has accomplished.

An Explanation for the Young

"Let the Little Girl Write?" What's that about?

Way back in 1960 Billy Bland had a one-hit wonder called "Let the Little Girl Dance." And yes, I remember it. I remember Chuck Berry singing "School Day" too. That was the first 45 rpm vinyl record I bought in my teen years.

My husband is able to remember who sang many of the oldies, when they came out and what he was doing at the time. I have to check with ask.com. It remains part of our shared experience--when I mention one of these songs, he knows what I'm talking about.

Hi From the Road

Thanks to the inverter on our coach and the wireless internet, we're able to stay in touch from the road.

We're on I-40, crossing desert and mountains on the way to San Timoteo Canyon north of Redlands, California. There we'll stay at Fisherman's Retreat for a week. On Friday we'll have Thanksgiving dinner with my brother John and his wife Libbi. And yes, John is much taller than I.

It's a partly cloudy day, warm but not hot. We're on our way up into the mountains--something our coach doesn't like much. Oh, well.

We wish all of you a blessed Thanksgiving--keep in touch!

Let the Little Girl Write

So here I am, all four feet ten inches tall, gray of hair and myopic of eye, embarking on a new project. I want to write.

What makes me think I can do that?

With two colleagues, I will have an article published in a refereed nursing journal early in 2007. I have prepared documents for Transplant Management Group (http://www.transplantmanagment.com) for which I am a senior consultant. I have prepared and presented speeches at two national meetings as well as submitting abstracts and posters for another. I once wrote an herbal newsletter for a limited number of subscribers which diminished greatly once I began charging for it! I've written "Wellness Corner" articles for my church newsletter, as well as some snappy prose as I recorded minutes for church business meetings. So there.

What experiences do I have to share?

• Forty years of nursing (who would do this for forty years?!)
• Living in an RV and traveling since August 2005 (yes, we're homeless)
• Many life experiences over the years, some of them best not mentioned here

So, to build a portfolio, I am writing articles hopefully for publication in RV magazines. I have two in the works, one about health issues on the road and another about a California condor we were privileged to see at the Grand Canyon.

Wish me success! Please!