Category Archives: California

RV, Travel, Friends and Observations on Love.

I’ve been traveling since December, just before New Years 2021, with the intention to recreate as much of a magical 2020 as I could. Last year, there were a number of great rallies scheduled for people who have the same type of RV as I do. It was my goal to be at them all. In the attempt, I visited twenty five states and traveled about 22,000 miles. I started in January, and by the time everyone was sitting up in March and actually taking notice of Covid, I’d attended the first three rallies;  Quartzsite, AZ, in January, Paso Robles, CA in February, and Tallahassee, FL in March. Everything came to a shuddering halt in March. Thereafter, all the rallies were canceled. Continue reading →

Trust

I spent the first half of yesterday working on a five minute project. I’ve been looking at a panel on the RV that covers the rear wheels, near a cargo drawer, that was out of alignment. The panel stuck in a couple of inches. I’m not sure when I first noticed that the panel wasn’t properly aligned, but I’ve been practicing doing nothing, and someone told me that we’d done enough nothing for the week. They continued that if we did too much more nothing, there wouldn’t be enough nothing to do, next week, so I decided to do something. My friend Al said “One of the problems  is that you never really know when you’re finished doing nothing.”. Smart man. Continue reading →

The Owens Valley and Insight

I’m in the Owens Valley. Famous or infamous by Manzanar, the WWII Japanese Internment Camp, or the greet Los Angeles water robbery that created caustic conditions in the valley and effectively eliminated agriculture. I’ve been to the Valley three or four times, and I wanted to figure out why I keep on coming back. The place is beautiful, but … Continue reading →

Campfires

I sat by the fire tonight, reflecting. I’ve always looked at a fire as the release of the summer’s sun, contained in the wood from all those years go. I’ve sat by many fires over most of my life. I spent my summers on the East End of Long Island, on a piece of property my grandfather purchased about 1947. My Father’s best man, Bob Hartwell bought a piece of property on the North Shore of the Lower Fork of the East End, in a place called Noyac. He built a house carved out of the oak forest mantling the hills of the South Fork. He cleared the land, and as a result, he and his children, my unofficial cousins, became masters of woodcraft. Camp fires were a common occurrence, both out of necessity and pleasure. Continue reading →