Wellton, Arizona

I had a couple of Valentines yet to mail. An old jeep pulled in next to me; I asked its age. Purchased a mere two months earlier, he'd had the Holley four-barrel rebuilt and it ran like a top; '69.

He told how it had a Buick V-6, a front-of-the-wave motor for its day and how Jeep had purchased the patent from GM in order to use it in their vehicle. As part of moving to Wellton, he'd begun acquiring "toys" to tinker with; the Jeep was one. Another, a riding lawnmower (in a desert?!) had a 24-horse, V-Twin Briggs & Stratton. He told how the fuelpump was operated by engine vacuum and how, though it took a while, he eventually discovered the hole in the line to the pump, hiding on the backside, that had made the price so low. He smeared some black silicone over it, and, after it dried, it fired right up.

While admiring the V-6, he told of the dissolution of his 35-year marriage. It seems she'd been sneaking around for years but was such a good actress he hadn't had a clue. As icing, two months before she asked for the divorce, she'd suggested he repaint the interior of their house. It wasn't until later he realized it was so it would sell better. Her boyfriend left his wife to marry her; we can only hope they live happily ever after.

It was like listening to the other side of the coin of my own life. Double El has known of my other relationships all along, and several have been deep and abiding loves, but it wasn't until last year, after 26, that we legally bound ourselves... so she could "inherit" my Social Security (nearly 3x what she'd have gotten) after I die.

Outside again, checking out the "knuckle" hubs on the front axle of the Jeep, I noticed an awning shop across the highway.

He knew the place and thought they might be able to extend the belt on my antique Camptrails backpack, the one I bought from the Animal Humane store in Hailey, Idaho (just down the street from Sun Valley).

In the awning shop, the woman invited me to bring the job in so she could see. After a brief perusal she called a guy and asked him to come over.

He (I never got his name), a man about my age, looked it over and said he thought he could handle it. I explained I was passing through. He got right to it.

We chatted while he sewed. He'd been a mechanic like his father before him and recounted a saying from his Dad, "No matter, it's just a pile of nuts and bolts." This had guided and given him the confidence to tackle anything. Having been a mechanic myself, I know it's about a lot more than "nuts and bolts" as you'll see from the next paragraph.

He'd met the shop-owner twenty years ago when she'd re-covered some seats for his RV. Over the years they'd become friends. It wasn't too long after she bought this, her second shop, that the $4,000 sewing machine, a bit high-strung, two-needled model, the one he was using, started acting out. With no way to have it repaired, she put it in the attic. At some point it came to his attention. It took a while, but eventually he discovered the last person who worked on it had replaced an adjusting screw for the footplate with a regular screw. The part couldn't be ordered so he made two; not one, but two. The way he described it, it was a virtually seamless (pun!) segue from the repair to learning to sew. And there he was fixing the hipbelt on my backpack.

It took about twenty minutes. Ten of that was spent untangling the ornery bobbin.

When he asked for $10.00 I said No Way!! We settled for $20.00.

35 years for one; 26 years (now 27!) for us, and 20 years for him. The diff was the 35-year said he wished he could have those years back...he'd been cheated.

 But I continue to be amazed at what happens as I "piddle" along.

Looking Back....

is always fun. And it's one of the reasons I blog...to be able to recall what happened, and when.

In 2016, after six years of travel in Eggbert, my 1999 Geo Metro hatchback, I turned in front of the Arizona State Parks & Rec Supervisor. We were in a residential area, going slow, so neither of us was hurt, but Eggbert took it hard.

In May, eager to explore the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, I set out in Schvoogie, (so-named because he looks, to her, like a house-slipper) one of Double El's Honda FITs. (Seen here in November, 2019 near Chiricahua National Monument in Arizona.)

Although far less dramatic than 2016's, I'm at another phase shift. I can hardly wait!

Here's the post describing my departure....

https://newmexnomad.blogspot.com/2016/05/yuh-gotta-wait-around-and-see.html  

Somebody...

got into the cooler last night. When I went out to investigate, the lid was on the ground and I could tell several items were missing. I hoisted it atop one of the boxes on the roof and added a piece of luggage to further dissuade another attempt. The shaman at Mt Wrightson Wilderness said "his" (coatimundi's) had no compunctions about going onto the roof.

This morning I recovered the tattered remains of the three nested ziplocks that had held a Kentucky Legend smoked ham, the packaging from a pound of grass-fed, organic, ground beef and the remains of a 4 oz. pkg of VITA smoked salmon with a small bit still in the corner, which I ate. 

I suspect a coatimundi as this is not, as far as I know, shape-shifter territory.

This morning a hummingbird buzzed around, playing peek-a-boo through the windshield and, I surmise, checking for contention from its reflection from the tinted windows.

It's pretty quiet in the Kofa, but you can STILL hear racket from highway 95 less than ten miles away.  At least there're no shootists.

Surly Bonds

How'd that poem go? The one they used to play when they signed off at night....

I've slipped the surly bonds
of snow and ice
And am basking in
Warmth and vice.
Altho I pity those stuck at home,
Sing Ho! for those
Eager to roam.

After paying the price of permission,
I trod the plushly carpeted halls
of a subdued and low-light space.

Then up I soared to the heights of delight,
And chased her round the room.
It was all part of the fun,
To dispel the wraiths of Eastward gloom.

And then, in languor
and with ease,
I put out my hand
And touched the face...
of Louise.



I was in Tuscon, but thanks to Rolling Steel Tent (blog) posting a weather chart I left last Wednesday. Look what happened.... See: Box Canyon Blog (blog).


Ah, here it is...

High Flight

John Gillespie Magee, Jr

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, --and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of --Wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air...
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark or even eagle flew --
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

Seeking Sunshine

In Tucson they were predicting three days of rain. Rain prompts thoughts of a (slightly) larger vehicle; there's only so much you can do in 5 feet by 10 feet. The forecast for Yuma was for only ONE day of rain, then sunshine. Rather than take the time to find a new rig, I decided to "Go West, old man."

I got my usual late start Wednesday, but made it to a spot in the wilds a little west of where 84 intersects with I-8; it was rainin' tuh beat the band.

Thursday morning, short on supplies, I left everythin' under the tarp and drove to Mariposa where, within a couple uh ours, I wuz good-tuh-go.

Back at camp, the goddess intervened with a 20-minute reprieve....just long enough to pack up. (Women are SO beneficent!) Trundling along, sundown found us looking hopefully at a thinning cloud cover and settling in to a sweet little camp next to some mesquite trees about 70 miles to Yuma. The rain stopped long enough to get everything UNpacked, UNder cover and ACcessorize it all with the OBligatory LAtrine (Hit ain't no fun diggin' at 6:30 a.m., 'specially iffen hits rainin'). The rain continued on and off during the night, but it lacked the unrelenting steadiness that had felt like ark-building time further east.

Now, this morning, it's still pretty cloudy, but the sun is working hard to break through. There's still the occasional sprizter, but you can tell it's gonna be a Bright, bright, sunshiney dayyyyyyyyy! 

Yuma today for sure!

Shorts

In my prev post I described the ruination of a fine pair of pants. Fact is, incidents such as these provide the impetus to change my shorts (see blog banner).


As I clutched at the cloth to expose my shin (see prev post), I observed what, were I in my teens, could be flaunted as a fashion statement.

Each time offers new opportunities and this time I decided to cut away the extraneous. Usually I cut the legs off while I have them on. This time I draped them over the door.

THEN.....Off with the front pockets. 

What do people carry in these? Skoal; their pipe?

Next, the backs....

The leavings. They'd make a great collage!!!

Hear, Hear!

Before the day is out allow me to direct you to Rolling Steel Tent's blogpost about Theodore Roosevelt:


http://rollingsteeltent.blogspot.com/2019/02/today-18-february-2019-is-slightly.html?m=1

Whoopsie-daisy

Yesterday was the first I felt like going for a hike since the accident back in December. I ambled across the way, navigated the mazes of cat-claw and ocotillo forest, across the little stream and up the other side onto the "bench."

From there I followed the (reeking) cowpath a short distance and then, at the behest of a little bird, headed back down toward the creek.

It was a bit rocky. As I stepped around an outcrop my foot caught on something and found myself in that "Uh-oh, this could hurt" moment; it was slow enough I had time to wonder if I was going to be plucking prickly-pear needles for the next few days. As I came to a stop, my good fortune became apparent...at least at far as the cacti were concerned. But what was striking was the quiet...as if everyone, it was only me and the plants, was holding their breath.

Assessment disclosed a hit to the left shin. As I pulled up the pants to check the damage, a shard of annoyance flashed at the sight of the rip in the knee. A GOOD pair of pants! But no blood...and no broken bones...nothing serious. I pulled myself together, assured everyone I was fine, including myself, and continued down to the creek. There I found what will be, in a month or two, a beautiful swimming hole. That is, if it continues to flow.

On the way back I found some of these. I'd met them before near Cochise Stronghold. Their bright-red beans are enticing.

Anybody know what they'll induce...or cure? (I collected a bunch.)







A neighbor. I like orange, but it just doesn't quite have the impact as red.

And then there was this charming couple.

A satisfying day in "the wilds."

Tucson Gem & Mineral Show - 22nd St Showcase - Thru Feb 17

One of the delights of polyamory is choosing gifts. Be it skented (pronunciation gleaned from teenage door-to-door solicitor) soaps, jewelry, clothes, perfumes....the fun is in the finding. However, walking into the 22nd Street Showcase leant some perspective.

When in Palo Alto the other day (September), we stopped in at The Stanford Shopping Center to admire the baubles available at Nordstrom, Neiman Marcus and a couple others of their ilk. Fine jewelry and beautiful rocks are, for me, a form of art and I enjoy browsing. And if you're reading the WSJ Magazine, you've heard about the shift in retail toward pop-up departments within stores, designer brands and collaborations....all attempts to retain market share in the face of THE INTERNET.

But when you see PiLEs of topazes, emeralds, diamonds, exotics such as Gibeon (meteorite) and Ametrine (Bolivian amethyst morphing to Citrine...and beautifully cut!) it's just friggin' overwhelming!! I got there -- to the 22nd St Showcase -- an hour before closing (they close at 6:00) and made it through about nine -- out of 300 --- booths.

The Ametrine came into their possession when the husband purchased a "collection" from an aging enthusiast who, nearing death, was divesting.

The Nigerian Zircon, just under 7 carats (about the size of the nail of your ring-finger), was asymmetrically faceted, imbuing it with an incomparable sparkle that brought out the full subtlety of its palest of palest blues....a color you may have seen near a beach in the Seychelles. The dealer, from Nigeria, had the connections.

The booth to the immediate left of the entrance featured simple-yet-elegant rings with Gibeon shavings in a resin matrix. The near-microscopic bits of iridescent cobalt-blue, shimmered amongst the silver-gray slivers and other particles of cosmic debris. An LED augmented loupe enabled full appreciation, but even with the naked eye, I, who wears no jewelry, felt the stirrings of covetousness. Renowned for his specialization and the beauty of his work, finders (of meteorites) sought him out knowing he'd pay top dollar.

I took no pictures; it'd've been naught but a waste of time.


Shows, Dates and Locations:

https://xpopress.com/showcase/shows/1/tucson-gem-mineral-fossil-showcase

The Nearness of Town

The meeting with Ms. Lannette Mackay, co-founder of the Tucson Psychedelic Society (TPS) was very enlightening. She wore a beautiful long-sleeve, purple t-shirt over which was another, black, with the word "microdose" -- startlingly clear block letters augmented with subtle bits of color.

Her Spaniel (with tail) snuggled up (against me) the way cats do when they know you hate them. I have the same effect on children. Funny how they so easily see through the facade.

We roamed the range of individuals in the group, to the political analogizing of Tuscon with Austin, TX. As my brother, who lives outside Austin, says, "Austin is a town surrounded by Texas."

It happened at the Epic Cafe. Excellent espresso.





Then...

It was time for a free treat courtesy of the Fred Fox School of Music. Last night's trio (laptop computer, piano, flute/clarinet/sax/) had feets in classical skillfully abstracted with jazz-esque improv. An hour-and-a-half for $2.00 - the price to park in the "structure" (behind/next to the Circle K at E Speedway & N Park Ave) across the street. Many of the performances are free.

The brochure's pages aren't numbered, but the heavy stock readily lends itself to dog-earring. (Yer dawg needs un ear-ring. Of course, it could hav tinnitus.)

TPS & Avedon

My 3rd Tucson Psychedelic Society (TPS) meeting. The group lists over a thousand members and there've been about 30-40 at each I've attended. The personalities are fascinating and the levels of knowledge and experience inspiring.

I then moseyed over to the Center for Creative Photography to see the Richard Avedon exhibit. I highly recommend; unfortunately, no nudes.

And now for something different...

Skip ahead to 2:00 to get to the "good" part.

Rain, Rain & MORE Rain

Tues, Feb 5, 1:17 p.m. update.
Cloudy but no rain last nite or any, so far, today.
Cool, but downright "balmy" for February...at least compared to Cleveland.



Yessir, iffin whut they say iz true 'bout rain bringin' the desert tuh life, we'unz shood habe eine
SchPecTAkULAR bloom enny minute now.
(Weather surmisaler sed 'twas gonna continue through Wednesday.)

Piddling Southward

It was time for a new computer.

I found a 12" laptop in Mesa and ran up to get it.

Now piddling my way southward on highway 79 toward Tucson.

For Jozien

Some pretty country out here and the sideroads are surprisingly well-maintained.

But watch out for the javelinas, they're known to attack w/o provocation.