Spring & Summer...reprised (The short version)

Our online chats led to lust. We agreed (in May) to meet halfway at Lake McConaughy, Nebraska (14.5 km N of Ogalla). The romance was wonderful for a few weeks. We wandered through central Colorado enjoying Spring. As she said before we met, she makes up in enthusiasm for what she lacks in duration. 

Well, Yesiree Ma’m & Boy Howdee!! Hit shore wuz good while hit lasted!! And since a gentleman never discusses his relationship(s), I’ll leave it at that.

In July my friend in Albuquerque who’d been undergoing chemo was back on her feet. I ‘queezed intuh muh flyin’ helmet, hollered, “Clear the prop!” and headed North (again) seeking cooler climes. Ten days later I found myself enjoying (superb!) coffee at The Lift (no longer extant) in Pagosa Springs, Colorado (346 km). I brag I averaged 34.6 km a day. Since then I’ve managed to cut that in half. I admit it, I enjoy chiding folks, generally males, on their paces. In those moments when I've had absolutely NOTHING to do (Let’s see....I vaguely recall one about ten years ago), I speculate on when the speed demons find time to tell someone they love them, let alone MAKE love. (It CAN be done while driving (as I'm sure you know), but Safety Clown frowns on that kind of behavior.)

After Pagosa I began a westward drift. Allow me to commend Mancos to you. A splendid town of about 1119 folks, Mancos sports three (count ‘em!) art galleries and the finest vanilla ice cream yet at Hamburger Haven! (since closed.

In Dolores to resupply, there's a magnificent library with excellent wi-fi and a pair of "magpies" in the meat department of the local grocery; one makes mewing sounds while the other cracks his gum. They reminded me of a high school I used for eighth and ninth grades (before dropping out) in the rurals of Tennessee. The only thing I could surmise is that they, like the poor kids in that high school, just didn’t get enough attention. I returned to the Forest, my socio-cultural needs sated. 

P.S. There's a great thrift store in the church at the West end of town. You'll know you're in the right place if the church is sitchiated in a triangle 'tween two roads.

The Taos Nuns

There were six nuns on their way to the Mission at Ranchos de Taos in their VW bus. (This happened in the ‘60s.) As they were going over the Taos Gorge (900+ feet above the Rio Grande) the one driving was enjoying the view so much she missed the turn. The three in the front had their seatbelts on and lived; the three in the back didn't....and died.

When they got up to heaven (a mythical place of unending orgasm) St. Peter met them at the gates. Apologizing, he said, “Unfortunately, you’ve come on a day when in order to get in you have to answer a question.”

The three nuns looked at each other, shrugged and the first one stepped up.

St. Peter had a stern look as he asked, “What was the name of the first woman God (capitalized as a concession to christians) created?” The nun smiled and replied, “Eve.” And as that was the correct answer, the gates swung open, heralds sounded their trumpets, rainbows filled the sky and with bluebirds twittering, the nun strode up the boulevard into never-never ending....heaven.

Now comes the second. St. Peter gives her the hairy eyeball and in a tone conveying the seriousness of the situation asks, “What was the name of the first man God created?” 

“Adam” she replies. And as with the previous, the gates swung majestically, everyone harked to the Harold's, and bluebirds tittered while confetti and ribbons added to the glory.....and she joined her sister.

So now it's the third one’s turn. St. Peter’s countenance is a bit more beneficent. He looks at the nun sympathetically and puts it to her: “What was the first thing Eve said to Adam?”

The nun is a bit taken aback. Sheepishly, she asks if she can have some time to think about it. He agrees to an hour.

She goes off and cogitates. Her hour up, she returns to where St. Peter is waiting.  Having had no success with her ruminations she is decidedly hangdog. Close to tears, as she approaches him she says, “Boy, that’s a hard one.” And the gates swung open, the heralds & bluebirds etc....

Don't forget the Alboline!

Albolene - It’s Spreadable!

ESO: How You and Your Lover Can Give Each Other Hours of Extended Sexual Orgasm by Alan P. Brauer and Donna J. Brauer describes Albolene Moisturizing Cleanser as the nearest thing to one’s own body’s lubricant. It is a bit thinner than crisco, but provides sustained lubrication without being absorbed into the skin. Although not water-soluble, it's easier to remove than other products.

It’s available from CVS Pharmacy and Walgreen's for around $9.00.

E.S.O. was first published in 1983. The products in this area have expanded tremendously since then, but as you've likely noticed, each has its own characteristics.

The book E.S.O was referenced in:  The Art of Sexual Ecstasy: The Path of Sacred Sexuality for Western Lovers by Margot Anand & M. E. Naslednikov, illustrated by Leandra Hussey.

Information about Ms. Anand can be found by googling Skydancing Tantra.

Many Happy!

Pig Envy.....Keeping the Global Economy Running (via drug sales)

Subtitle: Lothario’s Lament or The Pig Vindicated

Lothario, a character from days of yore, was known for his lamentation that regardless of how much cialis he couldn’t keep up with the pig. Research (citation needed) indicates that male pig orgasms last 30 minutes. In addition, rumor has it they're capable of up to 40 orgasms/session. (Most of the research is by men so the stats on female pigs are skimpy and questionable.)

Pigs, as you may have noticed, are not fat. In fact, they’re quite sleek and firm. Furthermore, their Mona Lisa-esque smiles hint at their true nature; a nature that is, if anecdotes be believed, both benign and solicitous. They’re easily house-trained and reputed to be smarter than dogs or horses.

Thus, we have to wonder at a culture that maligns such an intelligent and sexually staminatious animal. Is it yet MORE evidence of male envy? I mean, we all know the (stereo)typical male (why isn't it monauraltypical) response to anything that threatens their (alleged) supremacy: derogation or laying rubber. (I gotta lay SOMEthing, maaaaaaaaaan!!)

But about Lothario....Given that satiation in humans is an ephemeral experience, a common dilemma is, “What now?”

Ms. Peggy Lee’s answer is here...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qe9kKf7SHco
(umpteen plastic surgeries and STILL not satisfied)

Once, on a personals site, I glibly responded  to a query about where we'd be without our instincts with “Damfino,” the name of Buster Keaton's boat. I'd concur an instinct can be handy now and then, but being more a humanist than a Freudian, in general I prefer utilizing a bit of tho't. I mean, 99 out of 100 psychologists assert the biggest erogenous organ is the brain. But then, I wonder, did their studies include pigs?

Annnnnnd...I think the point of life is to have fun...

(SEE: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PIb6AZdTr-A )

It's true, I probably think less about consequences than most. So when the opportunity arises -- as when she crooks her finger and wiggles it in that way recognized 'round the world -- I’m the first to encourage each and all to shed the shroud of social conventions and DANCE. (In case you didn't get it before....here's a second chance.)

And for those of you who are jus' chillin', my wish is that you're someplace where yer dancin' can be uninhibited, yer orgasm-induced screams are like those forest trees that don't give a damn if they're unheard and the skies are not cloudy allll ddaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyy.

Pig Envy!! Helping fuel our drug-based economy.

Trevor - 1992 Aerostar XL

In those early days there was a .357 in that shoulder holster; I'd been living in the city too long.

Maybe someday I can check my journal to see where I was. The photo below, from the same period, is (worthlessly) labeled, "The Road Less Traveled."

Kusawa Camp

On a bluff overlooking the Takhini River, we spent several weeks watching swans fly by and reveling in nature's delights. Later, In November, she rode the bus down from Whitehorse and we spent six weeks traveling in Trevor, the Aerostar van.

On the Bluff

Takhini River

Roadkill dinner hit by

Border Patrol

The following was written about a camp when traveling through New Mexico and Arizona in November.

They say travel expands your horizons, but clichés are meant to be ignored, eh?

We had a rule -- regardless of where we were -- at 3:00 p.m. we'd stop and make camp. (Nomads RARELY have rules, but every now and then we try one just for fun.) The rule gave us time to unpack, make supper, enjoy a glass of wine and watch the spectacular New Mexico sunset(s).

So when the clock struck, Jozien slammed on the brakes, yanked the wheel over hard, bounced over the road-side ditch and landed on the two-track with all the Dutch determination used to invent the rule! The road, barely visible, led into some bland hills that looked like nothing more than a bunch of old muffins left overnight on the kitchen counter; not much fun. But hey, a rule is a rule, right?

As it happened, there was an arroyo with lots of dead wood. Jozien the pyromaniac, soon had  ten-foot flames keeping the evening desert chill at bay. Wine in hand, supper on the stove and sunset in full swing, we found ourselves truly entranced (New Mexico is known as The Land of Entrancement) as the local coyote chorus regaled us with a wonderfully polyphonic version of Ode to Sunset.

The next morning Jozien took off up the arroyo. You know how the Dutch can be, and she's no exception. She likes to walk IN the arroyo rather than ALONG it. This can be dangerous if there's a flash flood. But she is, first and foremost (after all), a Yukoner! In the desert the horizon can be 50 miles away. But what often catches your eye is barely more than five feet away....by your shoes. So being IN an arroyo kind of makes sense.

But this was no ordinary arroyo. It's sides began to narrow and heighten. Then, suddenly, she came to a small cliff. She climbed up and found herself in an alcove. Facing her, across a small depression, was an even larger cliff.

She approached the wall with caution. Feeling her way up, her tongue sometimes snuck out between her teeth (a childhood habit) as she concentrated....searching for hand-holds. But she made it.

It was like a cathedral! A huge wall enclosed an area approximately 50 meters in diameter.  And the vegetation was luxuriant! There was a huge oak, larger than any she'd ever seen in the desert; an aged piñon pine, several barrel cacti and through it all, birds flitted about while butterflies danced over a pool of water at the center. It was magical!

She sat under the oak and admired its gnarled bark and huge trunk. It had to be hundreds of years old! The birds were almost tame, but after coming within a few feet they seemed to grow bored and flew off. The silence was so intense she could hear her blood pounding in her ears. The New Mexico sky was so blue and the air so clean each breath was a delight!

And who would have guessed? This place, so magical it brought tears of joy, hidden among hills so bland. You can never be sure what you'll find when you venture onto the paths Less Traveled.

But it's amazing how often magic awaits!

 

North Padre Island

After leaving Eric's I went down to the coast. I've never much cared for large bodies of water, but, you know, it's sort of like being in Nashville and having to at least drive by the Grand Ole Opry.

Susan, Michelle's Mom, bought this Ford Aerostar XLT with the big V-8 for Michelle to drive to art shows around the country. When she stopped doing shows it sat under the carport as I preferred my 1999 Geo Metro hatchback that got 50 mpg.

Hauling the family heirlooms and archives to my brother's in Dripping Springs, Texas (outside Austin), required a large vehicle. Trevor, as he was knowed, did splendidly. Later, he was gifted to Suzan Shirley.