The Flea Market

I have a feeling that the life of a Winter Texan in the Valley might be kind of unique. Few Mid-westerners and Canadians actually move to Texas in retirement. Most are only here for the season. This part of Texas is completely dominated by Mexican culture. A few billboards are only in Spanish and are not interested in Winter Texans unlike most of the area's business. Every store clerk that I've seen speaks Spanish as easily as English and switches from one language to the other from customer to customer. Few places is this more evident than at the Donna-Weslaco (wes-luh-koh) Flea Market which is held every Saturday, Sunday and Wednesday from November to April.

On Saturday some new friends Ray and Cindy invited us to join them for a trip to the flea market. We had been told by several people that is is a must-see for all Winter Texans and indeed it is. It is a huge conglomeration of small vendors, some crowded into ramshackle old warehouses and some under awnings outside of the buildings. They are selling everything useful for Winter Texans including RV parts and accessories, high quality Egyptian cotton and bamboo sheets, fishing gear, knick-knacks and gadgets, and of course clothing. including diabetic socks and tee shirts with any statement one might want, some not very tasteful. One old man proudly sported a shirt with the statement, "Why Grandpa can't wear shorts" beneath which was a caricature of an old man with his genitalia hanging out the bottom of his shorts. Our friend made a comment, "grandparents behaving badly" which I think is another slogan of Winter Texans. There was an open air area under cover with picnic tables and a concession stand selling fajitas, corn dogs, nachos and onion rings. The corn dogs are not as good as the ones at the Illinois State Fair in case anyone wanted to know. A musician played old familiar tunes accompanied by his keyboard doing a pretty good job of it. Thousands of shoppers filled  the streets and buildings on a beautiful sunny Saturday, almost all of us with gray hair and white skin.

Palmdale is beginning to fill up now as more people are escaping the north after the holidays. There is a big New Year's Eve party planned for tomorrow and I will need a new dress. Which reminds me that I haven't written about the Christmas celebration yet. I have to confess that I spend a good part of my time now reading novels... mostly mystery and some not so good. I took a break from mystery after a particularly cynical and dark mystery and read a Rosemund Pilcher novel. Now I'm back with another Anne Perry novel. My sister Kay told me about Anne Perry last year and I've enjoyed her mysteries which are all set in historical times mostly Victorian London. This is why I don't have time to write much. I digress.

Back to Christmas. Christmas dinner was served at 1:00 on Christmas day in the rec room at the office. The place was filled with tables of 12 all decorated by the group at the table. There were over 100 people present. We had been invited to join a group and had included Ray and Cindy who are also new to this place. Ham, turkey, potatoes, gravy, dressing, and yams were provided. Everybody brought a dish. I brought Peas Epicurian. This meal was served buffet style. There was a 50/50 raffle to raise money for the resident's association and door prizes. One of the parties at our table was a couple who would have been our neighbor had we moved into the the site which we had originally reserved. They each had a bottle of wine in front of their plates and were very talkative. We didn't take wine with us so I wasn't so talkative. I know better than to leave the wine home tomorrow night. Also, most people were dressed up in festive attire while we were in the normal Winter Texan uniform, tee shirt and jeans. It was actually very enjoyable and the food was pretty good.

It really doesn't feel much like the holiday season here with 70 degree weather, green grass and palm trees. Next week, I will be taking a break from this nice weather and go up to Minneapolis for 10 days. I don't know what I was thinking when I scheduled my flights. Actually I do know. I will get to spend a good amount of time with Edie for her birthday this year. I should also get to see her parents and some other family. I have a suitcase with winter clothes in our storage bay for this exact purpose.

Sunday was rainy and chilly so I made a batch of granola. We went to bingo  and I won the big pot ($10).  I added that to the $1.50 that I got from playing 500 2 weeks ago. So that is going well. Not doing so well in cribbage. Fortunately we don't have money riding on that.

The Texas Tropics

There are several local terms which are universal in the  valley.  "The Valley" is what everyone calls the Rio Grande River valley.  Since we have been here, I have never heard it called anything other than "The Valley."  There is the upper and lower valley, the local news always give both forecasts.  I have not figured out where one starts and the other ends, but no one questions the terms.  The other universal term used is "The Island."  All winter Texans seem to migrate to "The Island" at least once a week.  The Island is South Padre Island.  Pastimes include walking the beach, buying some of the worlds most expensive fruit and vegetables while you hobnob with the beautiful people.  Some just go to The Island to hit the bars.

As we entered Texas and headed southwest, the land, climate and character of the state seemed to change with each mile.  When we entered from Louisiana, Cajun was still the local restraint fare.  We hit the Piney Woods area which is heavily wooded with an assortment of marketable timber.  As we went south, the land became much more arid and one could see that it would take a Texas sized ranch to raise a few head of cattle.  Unless one wanted to raise brush, not much could be produced from the land. 

About 40 miles north of The Valley we started seeing signs of green and life.  Palm trees lined the highway, grass was green, and the weather definitely had a warmer glow.  By the time we reached the valley, everything had the look of Florida in January.  It was beautiful.  In the middle of December, lawnmowers were everywhere keeping the greenery from becoming a shaggy mess.  Mid 70's is the average December temperature. 

Observations:
ALL Winter Texans agree on one thing:  this is the cheapest place to live that they have ever encountered in the U.S.  Prices continue to amaze us.  A car wash is 75 cents.  The local H-E-B store sells bread at five loaves for $1.  I got a haircut, (and a good one) for $3.  We picked grapefruit right from the tree in the RV park. The cost is free but the downside is we had to pick our own. The area is dominated by Stripes restaurants.  Judy and I had lunch one day for $6.50 for both of us.  Fast food, i.e. McDonalds are outnumbered by Stripes and Whataburger by about a 10-1 margin.  Valero is the gas station of choice.  Over 50% of Valero stations have a Stripes affiliation.  There is always a lady rolling out tortillas, and always a lady frying them on the stove. Condiments include a fresh salsa bar. I am guessing freshness wins the food wars in little Mexico.   Judy lamented the other day that in The Valley, a couple could easily live on one social security check.  This is MY kind of place.

Holidays, etc.

For many reasons,the holiday season is stressful for most people.  Being with friends and/or family or not being with friends or family can cause one anxiety.  This is the first year in our lives that we will be with neither.  There are no expectations from us or others.  As I reflect on holidays past, many of which I have thoroughly enjoyed, I find little sadness in losing the stress of the holidays.  The only stress would be brought on by nostalgia, not from loneliness.   This is a totally different lifestyle than anything we have ever encountered.  Holidays are part of the adjustment.  We have a full schedule, just not with people we are used to spending this time of year with.

Observations:
We have been in San Benito for the past three weeks.  yesterday was the first time I saw anyone fidgeting with a cell phone.  To be in an enclosed area with 200 people and not see a cell phone is amazing.  When people want to converse with others, they just walk over and talk to them.  I commented on this to another one of the inmates and he said that it could be that the people are so old around here that they never had a cell.  (I know that one is not true.)

Young folks with no kids and old retired folks love to have dogs.  Young folks tend to have bigger dogs.  Old people tend to have smaller dogs.  It takes two or three of these scruffy critters to mop your floor with.  We must not be old enough yet.  No desire for a dog, even though I like them.

Apple Cider 12/18

One of the saddest days of the summer was also one of the best. It was the day that Greg and John moved everything out of Kelly’s house and put it in storage. It was also the day that Don and I had Edie’s help picking apples. (My plan is to attempt to attach an adorable picture in the blog to go along with this post.) It was one of those amazing September days in Wisconsin with the warm sun and a breeze. Kelly’s neighbor was kind enough to let us take the apples from one of his trees. So Don took the step ladder and Edie and I followed through the woods to the orchard. We filled 5 gallon buckets with delicious juicy apples while eating as many as we could and carried them back to Kelly’s. We had been tasked to scavenge apples from wherever we could find them for the big “apple press” that was to take place at Brother Mark and Sister Jean’s house by Brainerd on September 19 and this was only one of our apple picking days… though it was the best. We had scouted around the Brainerd area and picked apples from Pine Tree Cemetery, Mark’s farm, the old crab apple tree by the farm that we had picked from 55 years ago with Brothers Bob, Dick and Ludwig along with Sister Elaine. Another great day. The last day we were in Brainerd, Nephew Ken and his wife Lori set up their apple press at Mark’s and started squishing out the juice. We snagged a gallon and a half. We drank up the first gallon and put the other half gallon in an old orange juice jar and put it in the fridge to age. Word is that it improves with age.

The reason this came up is that the other day when I went to get a Miller Lite from the fridge for Don, it was all sticky. On checking the source of the sticky substance I found the plastic orange juice jar was bulging on the bottom and had started seeping around the lid. Fortunately it did not burst. When I loosened the lid it foamed up and would have run all over if I didn’t close it back up. At that time it was amazingly good and sparkling. Today we invited some new friends who when not wintering in Texas live in Bloomington, MN and shared the last quart of our cider. I have to say that it is best when served at the first opening. 

We think Don solved the water problem in the fridge.

Fire Ants 12/12

As long as we’ve owned this bus, the refrigerator has had a water problem. Water seems to run down the back and accumulate under the chrispers. We checked it out and determined that a little hole in the back was supposed to be draining this water outside. It’s not a normal fridge. It operates on propane, 12V or 110AC depending on what is available in case you think that it is not supposed to have a water drip. So we set about fixing it and removed the back panel which is on the outside of the bus and found a drain hose that was falling apart…. Clearly the cause of our water problem, a cheap and easy to replace part. There was one of those plastic tie straps holding it on in a place where we could feel it but couldn’t see it if we put our hand on it. Also there was no room to operate a tool once we got our hand in there. After a day of trying to get to it I finally got it cut. Then we had the tools spread out on the table trying to find what we needed to replace the tie strap with a hose clamp. I was standing on the cement pad that we call the patio in my flip flops. All of a sudden my ankles felt like they were on fire. I looked down to see my feet swarming with ants. I brushed them off and ran into the camper. My ankles continued to sting and burn for several minutes and a welt began to form.  I had no compunction at all and didn’t care to know of any environmental warning labels on the product provided by the park office. I was happy to treat the ant hill right next to the patio with the poison. Now I know about fire ants and why they have that name. The existence of these ants needs to be kept from those who interrogate terrorists. We did get the hose replaced but that has not solved the problem in the refrigerator. We still have water under the chrispers. Fortunately, we have time to solve this problem.

Tonight we are going to a dinner and dance which is being put on at the office. I will wear my skirt just in case there is an opportunity to dance. 

Nostromania 12/9

I haven’t posted on this blog recently because dealing with Microsoft Word and WiFi is making me crazy. Somehow when Don wrote his post Word saved his document as the blank document that opens when I go to write a new document. I’ve spent at least an hour trying to figure out how to undo that. So now I have to take an extra step in order  to get a blank document on which to write. So then I’m annoyed and don’t feel like writing. Or there is the other problem which has to do with the park wi-fi which is supposed to work but I can’t seem to make that happen. I spent an hour trying to get it to work from the camper and finally just went to the office where I can get a signal. Besides missing Edie, I think the thing that makes me the most homesick is not having good broadband service.

Speaking of homesick, the word of the day on dictionary.com a couple of weeks ago was nostomania, intense homesickness or an irresistible urge to go home. Sometimes I think I have that but am not sure where home is and I think of the weather and the disorder seems to be resolved. Home is currently here at Palmdale RV Resort, still temporarily on Site 42. It rained another inch or 2 this weekend and the site we reserved will not be dry enough for at least a couple of weeks. Water doesn’t soak in around here. It just has to eventually dry off which can take a long time. It doesn’t matter that much at this point.

Yesterday, I made another batch of granola but with store-bought maple syrup. It was a chilly rainy day and we decided to go to the potluck. I had some wild rice left over from our vacation up north last summer and I made a chicken-wild rice casserole. We finally figured out where to get information about planned activities around here so we can participate and maybe make some friends. Around here, people like us are known as Winter Texans. It’s easy to spot a Winter Texan by their pale skin and gray hair. We stand out among what mostly seems like young Mexican people.

We went to the Christmas parade at McAllen about 40 miles away on Saturday night. We sat among a large crowd of mostly Spanish speaking young men and women and their beautiful children.

I’ve always heard how important family is in the Mexican culture and it was evident in the families near us. Men, for whom the word machismo was coined, soothing fussy toddlers, and messing with my stereotypes.  The parade was amazing with huge inflatables of Santa and Shrek and others along with 7 or 8 marching bands and floats with celebrities. They claimed it was as big as the Macy’s parade and they might be right. It lasted about 2 hours and ended just before the rain came.

Then on Sunday we drove over to South Padre Island (The Island) and went to the farmers market where a boy about 10 years old gave me a white rose so we had to buy some radishes from him. All we had was a $50 and we waited while his mother used this teachable moment to show him how to count the change. We also bought a couple of grapefruit and a package of beautiful salad greens. Cool weather vegetables.  I heard today that my favorite grocery in Los Fresnos is closing in preparation for WalMart. L

Cribbage. Currently I’m not doing well. I’ve been skunked a couple of times in the last week. There is actually a cribbage game played in our “rec room” but it is at 7:30 AM. We’ll never get involved in that game. We don’t play cut throat yet. I told Don that as soon as he takes points I miss that will end our nice play. So far so good.

I found a class at The Yoga Studio in Brownsville called “Gentle Yoga”. It starts at 10:30 AM so it works very well into my schedule. The teacher’s name is Belinda and she gives instructions in both Spanish and English.

Today the weather is nice again and we are working on fixing some things around here.

Don thinks I should not start my blog whining about the trivial problems in my life. If you agree with him, Dear Reader, let me know with a text, email, phone call or come down and talk to me.

Winter Landing 12/2

We drove into Palmdale RV Park near Los Fresnos Texas on December 1 shortly after noon in a downpour.We waited about 15 minutes for it to stop and I put on my flip flops to cross a huge puddle of water to check in. They put us in a temporary site because ours is too wet at this time. We should be able to move tomorrow hopefully. Today it is chilly and overcast with a high of only 62 so we drove over to McAllen to find a Costco and then to the local organic grocer, Sprouts to pick up bulk grains for granola. Then we drove down along the Rio Grande back to Brownsville and then home.

We saw lots of state troopers guarding the border and were able to see the huge fence that is up along much of the river. We never did actually see the river though I know it was on the other side of the levee. It is kind of depressing if you think about it. When we came back we went into Los Fresnos to the grocery there to pick up a few more groceries. The produce and meat there looked good and were mostly local though there were some really strange cuts of meat and just about every kind of pepper you can think of. We bought some hamburger and the meat man picked up a glob of burger, weighed it and put in a plastic bag. All of the workers were bi-lingual. This is our nearby grocery so I’m glad we will get to patronize it frequently. There is a giant WalMart under construction on the edge of town. It won’t be done before we leave, thank goodness.

After we left Rainbow’s End in Livingston, we spent a night in the city park in Victoria, Texas and then a night on North Padre Island by Corpus Christi.

We parked across the dune from the Gulf of Mexico for one night and I enjoyed listening to the surf all night. Where we are now is about 15 miles from the bridge to South Padre Island. I’m looking forward to going there every Sunday to shop at the farmer’s market.

We will stay until the end of February. 

Thanksgiving at Rainbow's End 11/26

 We came to Rainbow’s End in Livingston, Texas last Saturday because we thought this would be a good place to spend Thanksgiving. Turns out we were right.

A couple of months ago, we joined an RV club called Escapees mainly because they offered a catalog with good deals on campgrounds and a useful magazine. Turns out they offer much more than that. My first impression is of a community that intentionally develops a culture of mutual support and caring. This place offers a kind of home base for full time RVers. It is a regular community, mostly gray hairs. Many residents are former full time RVers but had to stop traveling for one reason or another. Some live in houses and some still live in their RV. It is kind of a retirement to the grave kind of place. There is a Care Center which provides a place and support for people who need some assistance to continue to live independently in their motor home. All the RVs in that area were accessible with a ramp. There are campgrounds similar to this in several other states. 

One of the first things we had to do was sign up to be at table # 12 for Thanksgiving. So I made Peas Epicurian and Oyster Dressing for my table of 12 people. There were 11 other tables like ours with each group providing all the side dishes for their table. For $2 apiece, the campground provided turkey and gravy. We enjoyed dinner with 5 other couples who also live in their motor home and enjoyed sharing stories about the places we’ve been. Someone even asked for the Peas Epicurean recipe. The tradition continues. Amazingly, there was a couple at our

table we met a month ago in Branson, MO. What are the odds?

Livingston isn’t much of a town and there is not a lot to do around here so we haven’t done too much touristing. This part of Texas is referred to the “Piney Woods”. It’s in a pine forest and the other day we went to a nearby state park with a lake and it could have been in Minnesota except that when the sun is laying over in the south like it is now, you know you’re not in Minnesota.

We stopped at the library on our way back and I donated some of the books that I’ve read and picked up a couple more to take with me. I used the bathroom and the sign on the bathroom wall had instructions on how to dispose of Depends. What else can I say?

Facebook 11/22

I love my brother Bob. Soon he will break into his 8^th decade when he turns 70 next Valentine’s Day. And like always, the rest of us will get in behind him and follow suit when our turn comes up, if we’re lucky. Bob is seldom speechless, but when we showed up with this  motor home all he could say was “egad”. He enjoys needling and last week on Facebook Messenger he wrote, “just so you know there are some folks I just love to pick on and you and don are at the top of the list”. That’s as close as any of my siblings have come to telling me directly that they love me. So when I replied to Bob, “That’s how I know you love me Bob. I love you, too.” Facebook just froze up and the message remains in our conversation log, unsent. How does Facebook know that open direct expressions of love are taboo in my family? That’s what I want to know.
He has the distinction of being the oldest in the family. We all come behind him like stairsteps… Bob, Jake, Jean, Judy, Ludwig, Dick, Jim, Doug, Kay, Mark, John, Elaine and Byron. His life hasn’t been easy but one thing he has always done is to lead us boldly into each new decade of life. I remember him at 10 when he broke through to the 2nd decade.

Newspapers 11/21

Every morning Don gets in the car and goes in search of a local paper or a paper from a major city nearby. This week we have been reading the Houston Chronicle. Last week it was The Daily Advertiser in Lafayette, LA. The Advertiser has the USA Today logo on the front page which leads me to believe that it really doesn’t get much from local reporters anymore and most of it is canned material from another media source. The editorial cartoons were totally lacking in satire or insight into their subject and simply bashed President Obama and the Democrats. I certainly didn’t expect the paper to be liberal but the lack of thought or good satire was jarring. It didn’t help me in trying to be open minded and develop an understanding of the conservative position since I am going to be spending the next few months in a very red state. Remember when being Red meant you were a Communist? I digress. So I was very pleasantly surprised when Don started bringing home the Houston Chronicle. Especially this week when President Obama used his executive power to make some badly needed changes in immigration policy. No one would ever state that the Chronicle is a liberal paper but the reporting on the impact of the immigration policy changes was pretty balanced. This state has a huge Mexican population and a long border which they have been using the National Guard to try to control illegal immigration so it is probably impacted more than just about any other state. While this morning’s cartoon was critical of Obama it was incisive and witty satire that couldn’t fail to impress me. I began to believe that possibly some Republicans while being misguided are not stupid. Actually I have many friends who are intelligent thoughtful people and are Republicans. But then there is the story of the Texas State School Board who has been debating the social studies curriculum and whether to include Moses’ influence on the founding fathers’ development of democratic principles. The total lack of understanding of history just blows my mind. I wonder if they even thought about Jewish and Muslim inclusion of Moses in their holy books. And why do these people have anything to do with deciding curriculum. Shouldn’t the people making the decisions be educated first? Fortunately, there was a thoughtful editorial on that issue in this morning’s paper but I don’t know that it will have any influence on what Texas children will be learning about history. Sorry about this. Maybe I need to go back to reading the funnies and stick with Victorian mystery novels. 

Previous Point of Departure 11/23

“Where ya’all from?” It is the beginning of most conversations when you are on the road.  People see our South Dakota plates and wonder which part of the state we are from.  When you explain that you have no home, but South Dakota is the place you chose to buy licence plates….They have a tough time trying to figure out why anyone would be so foolish.  Full timers, those traveling for a living…..and it is a grueling living…..know that we are probably not a natives of South Dakota, we have our domicile there because it is the cheapest place not to live.  

Having said all that, the “where ya’all from” question has been extremely difficult to answer, especially in a short conversation.  I was born and raised in Montana.  I am proud of that fact.  Judy was born and raised in Minnesota…..equally proud.  We spent the last forty years in Illinois….Have you sent your new governor to jail yet?....not so proud.  We tried to put some roots down in Wisconsin this summer, but the roots did not take hold.  The truth is we live in a giant breadbox we call the camper.  It can be located in any of the land locked states or Canada……People do not want to hear that.  The computer navigation device describes home as “previous point of departure.” 

For the time being, we will live with that.     

Now What? 11/18

We made it to Texas, barely. We will be staying in Beaumont for the next couple of days and will move on to Livingston for Thanksgiving week. Then we will head south to our winter retreat in Los Fresnos, Texas (near Brownsville). It’s still chilly out though we have a sunny day. The high was only in the low 40s.

What to write about today. We are getting pretty good at packing up and setting up especially when we are staying at places like this, Hidden Lake RV Resort in Beaumont. Level concrete pads and FHU (Full hook ups) which means that we have 50 amp electric, city water and septic connection along with cable television and wifi. Today we are just taking it easy and will check out Beaumont tomorrow.

Now that I have time to write, it seems like I have nothing to write about. Up until we left Missouri, and became perpetual tourists, we were busy visiting friends or learning how to run this thing. Not much time to write. Oh, and I didn’t have a good keyboard until a couple of weeks ago. Hate the laptop keyboard.

I think maybe we are at the “Now what?” phase of this adventure. We have this thing pretty much set up the way we want and living in it is easy. The anxiety of getting into a new camp ground and getting set up has been alleviated for the most part. This whole year up till now has been about getting to this point. So now what? I think it remains to be seen. My friend, Kay said that living in retirement is about “being” not “doing”. We have done an awful lot this year and we don’t have much to do now except to get to know about the people and history of the place that we are now.

The Polar Vortex 11/13

The Polar Vortex has reached Southern Louisiana. The area where we are staying this week is also known as Arcadiana. So when I went to the Arcadiana Yoga and Wellness Center in Lafayette yesterday, I was wearing a light coat. I filled out my forms and signed the release from any liability in the event that I might injure myself and went to hang up my coat and put my mat on the floor. There was no place to hang my coat so I put it in a pile with my purse near were other class participants had put theirs. After class the conversation was about how bitterly cold it is now. The same conversation is being repeated across the country I am sure. The yoga instructor who knew I was from South Dakota because she read my form observed that it was much colder where I was from. I explained that it was indeed though I’ve never really lived in South Dakota even though that is my address. I said that I grew up in Minnesota and spent most of my life in Illinois. I said that I had looked for a place to hang my coat when I came in but there was no place. They all laughed and explained that they almost never need to wear a coat. I said I’ve never lived in place where they didn’t need a coat rack. That’s how far South we are. We had a hard freeze for several hours last night. We disconnected our hose overnight. The park has wrapped the hydrants in insulation.

People ask us, “Where are you from?” It stops me every time and I have to think for a minute. I reply based on the situation. If we are checking into an RV park, the answer is South Dakota. That’s on our license plates and our official address. I’ve always thought of myself as being “from Minnesota” though I spent most of my life in Illinois. So often now, I will say Illinois though occasionally I will explain the whole story.

Yesterday, we spent the day at home. I mixed up a batch of granola the way that I learned at Kelly’s and used up what remained of Lon’s maple syrup that Kelly generously gave us when we left her house in September. Lon is a dear man who lives across Twin Springs Road from Kelly in Wisconsin who makes maple syrup every year. The house (motor home, camper) smelled wonderfully like maple and coconut all day until I made gumbo last night. Don beat me in cribbage again. 

The Perpetual Tourist - Part 2 11/10

The day went downhill when I picked up Miss Kay’s book, “The Robertson Family Christmas” with Miss Kay’s buxom picture surrounded by her loving family. Earlier today we had made plans for where we will land on Thanksgiving with hopes that we won’t be the only people at the RV park in Livingston, Texas. After we leave there we will be heading for our winter landing near Brownsville on December 1. That’s a 6 ½ hour drive from Livingston.  There we will spend Christmas. Miss Kay’s book reminded me that my family will be spread all over the continent this Christmas. In case you don’t know who Miss Kay is, she is the matriarch of the Robertson family in Monroe, Louisiana. I was at the Duck Commander store in front of the warehouse which is pictured in every episode of Duck Dynasty. On the advice of a friend, we stopped in Monroe for a couple of days. It made sense being half way between Little Rock and Baton Rouge where we will go next. So that’s how we found ourselves at the Duck Commander headquarters and I was looking at Miss Kay’s book while Don perused the store. It is a remarkable family and they have helped make this town a tourist attraction. Almost every member of the family has written a book and they are all on sale at the store. But that wasn’t the only thing of interest in this town. We also went to the military museum which has the Viet Nam Veteran’s Memorial wall here this week. We went through the museum in which several area soldiers from all the wars of the last 100 years artifacts and uniforms on display. Most notable was the display of Uncle Cy’s Viet Nam uniform and a note of his time in the service. In case you don’t know, Uncle Cy is Miss Kay’s brother-in-law and probably the most entertaining of all of the Robertson clan. We ended the day with a walk through Black Bayou Lake Wildlife Refuge. A beautiful place with a cypress swamp and a flock of snowy egrets, probably the best thing in Monroe. We are only here for today and will be moving down the road tomorrow. 

November 6--- The Perpetual Tourist

The other day when we were walking in search of Little Rock Visitor Center, I remembered the other name that I thought of for this blog, “The Perpetual Tourist”. At the time, we were both irritable and I was wondering whether I would ever like anything about this way of living, going from one historical marker to another. There wasn’t anything better to do, so I just carried on. On that day, we went to the Old State Capitol Museum. Neither of us was very impressed with it. It doesn’t hold a candle to the Old State Capitol in Springfield. Eventually we found ourselves walking down by the river’s edge where we found a sculpture garden.
By the end of the day this way of life didn’t seem so pointless. A beautiful fall day and the Arkansas River provided a frame for sculpture and landscaping that was thoroughly enjoyable. We even saw the little rock or “la petit roche”
that marked a ford on the river in the days of the French trappers after which this city was named. We’ve been here for several days now and spent some time at the State Capitol
where there is a picture of Bill Clinton as governor looking like not much more than a child. We went to the National Historic Site  museum across from Central High School which was the centerpiece of the move to integrate schools in 1957 and heard the story of the brave teenagers who found themselves in the middle of it all. The next day we joined with a group of 9^th graders and got to see the inside of the school. It is still a regular high school and school was in session.

We had dinner at “The Flying Fish” with some friends who moved here 30 years ago from Springfield. We caught up on stories of our children, work, and remembered our time together on a co-rec volleyball team that played at the Armory in 1984. Yesterday we toured Heifer Village by the Heifer International World Headquarters and learned about the good work they do. Today we spent a few hours at the Bill Clinton Presidential Museum reviewing his presidency and had lunch at a very elegant restaurant called “42”. The sun is back today after being blocked by rain for the last 2 days so we spent some more time just walking around the river walk.

This place we are staying is called Downtown Riverside RV Park.

It is located on the inside of the sea wall in North Little Rock across the river from the city and next to the I-30 bridge. From here we can see the the skyline. We have 2 pedestrian bridges and 3 automotive bridges within a mile of us. At night all of the bridges are lit up providing a sparkling panorama from our windshield. We have a couple of more days here before we move down to Louisiana.

November 1, 2014

Time is getting away from me. It’s worrisome. I’ve wondered if I could conceptualize time in 2 or 3 dimensions instead of the linear way that the calendar and clock have structured for me, how would that be different. If each second could be experienced in its width or depth what would that be like? Listening… I hear a car go by the campground, the coach is creaking in the ceiling and side where the sun is warming it up. The keyboard clicks as I write these words. If I look around, I see the interior of the motor coach. Cabinets around the upper perimeter. A little clutter, newspaper, coffee cup, water bottle and shelf liner among other things on the ledge that surrounds the camper. Outside it is a bright sunny day with cars and other campers visible outside the windows. Trees in various colors as the season changes. The flowers I bought yesterday are on the ledge behind the couch. The air in the camper smells slightly of last night’s potroast, is very warm from the floor being on and the sunshine on the coach. My mind wanders to the future expecting Don to return and the past looking on the butterfly on the visor that was a gift from the person who bought my house. If I stay in a linear time frame, I feel kind of panicky and want to hold on to it and keep it from getting away. I’m retired now and of retirement age. That means that there are definitely fewer years ahead of me than behind. It’s not good to spend time thinking that way. I will try to keep on widening and deepening my conception of time.

We are near Branson, MO now and people have asked if we are going to any shows. I hadn’t thought about that. We’re just here because we didn’t want to drive all the way to Little Rock. Once we came here, we decided to stay a couple of days because we didn’t feel like moving so soon. In some ways, being a full-timer is a lot like living in a stick house.

Someone gave us some trout at Bennet Springs

You just live in it…. Sleep, eat, sit around, drink coffee, clean, do laundry, get out and get some exercise, watch tv, read, write, play Words with Friends. My Words with Friends friends are mostly retired and like me don’t have a lot better to do than work on playing a word. Often it seems like I no sooner get a word played than someone plays one back. I never seem to get caught up like before everyone retired. I taught Don how to play cribbage so frequently in the evening we engage in a friendly game. He wins sometimes and as do I. 

October 31, 2014

So if I were to start writing today what should I write…. My thoughts have been to write “Dear Edie” and tell Edie the story of my side of the family so she would know it if she ever was interested. Another thought is to write about our travels and experiences. I am already keeping a kind of log of where we have been. Another column might be titled “Things we learned today”. I’ve thought of a couple of chapter headings…. Life in the Slow Lane and I already forgot the other one. It will come back to me eventually. I have a keyboard and mouse to run my computer – actually replaced the one that I purchased earlier as it had quit working. Best Buy replaced it without a fuss because I had only owned it for a month. And I had a receipt. One problem that I am noticing as I type now is that my tabletop is too high to comfortably write at for long periods of time. My arms and wrists will wear our pretty quick if I write a long from this position.

Today Brother Bob noted on Facebook that he is doing important work in getting Democrats elected, unlike me who is just driving around the country doing nothing of value. Which is true. I am not doing anything of value for anyone or for the country. I don’t know if my carbon footprint is larger or smaller than it was back when I was working. I used to live in a house that was heated with natural gas and cooled with electricity from coal powered generators. I drove about 25 miles a day back and forth to the office. Now we just drive around in this diesel hog of a motorhome though we tend not to drive very fast or far in a day. So far we have not used heat or air conditioning much  as we have moved south with the leaves turning color. I haven’t helped a soul since I left the office though I think that I was useful when I was in Minneapolis this summer with my family. I didn’t point out to Brother Bob that I worked for 25 years trying to be helpful to children and families. I know that I needed to take at least a year off from counseling and then see if that is anything that I would be interested in doing again. But, Bob is right. I am not doing anything to make the world a better place at this time other than picking up after myself. Mostly. But I also spend money on fuel, groceries and other things as we travel around the country contributing to the economy of whatever community in which we find ourselves.

The road to Grafton, IL along the river

That’s worth something. And I voted in the South Dakota general election for some Democats. And that also is worth something. 

Ninety Days in the St. Croix Valley....

Ninety Days

So we left Illinois as planned. One week at the end of June we packed what possessions we had left into a truck and hauled it to Kelly’s house on Twin Springs Road on the bluffs of the St. Croix River.

We went back to Illinois for a few days to tie up loose ends and say good-bye to our work. And then we landed back at Kelly’s to catch our breath and carry out the rest of our plan and then some.

Where do I start…. At the end on September 25, driving the Corolla out of Kelly’s driveway past the motorhome and watching in the rearview mirror as Don pulled in behind me, we left Twin Springs Road for the last time. The house empty and the carpet cleaners preparing for Kelly’s tenants to move in. Or the beginning on the 4^th of July sleeping in and celebrating the holiday with Greg’s family at a picnic at Minnehaha Park while Kelly walked the Appalachian Trail. Or mowing the lawn and walking Venus the dog down by the river. Maybe picking raspberries. Enjoying wonderful summer days. Babysitting long days with Edie while Greg and Peggy bought their house. Afternoons at Caribou Coffee drinking a latte, taking advantage of free wi-fi searching rvtrader.com for a place to live. A fine week in the middle of it all with all of us at a cabin up north by a lake. Finding the motor home and driving to Green Bay see it and then going back to pick it up. That anxious trip back across Wisconsin and getting it into Kelly’s driveway after dark on August 7. Warm evenings on the porch with Kelly over a glass of wine talking about her decision to move to Philadelphia and rent out her house. Wonderful dinners with family on Kelly’s deck. Helping Greg install a new floor in the kitchen of his house. More babysitting. Hours of wonderful time with Edie. Helping them move. Learning how this thing (camper, motorhome, coach, rig… call it what you want) works. A “shakedown” trip up north to the jug band boogie in Effie. Camp Deer with family. A week at brother Dick’s house in Brainerd as the leaves started to change. The warm September day gathering the neighbor’s apples with Edie while Greg and John Perko emptied Kelly’s house of all the furniture and boxes. Picking apples at the cemetery and out at the farm. Spaghetti dinner with Bob, Jean, Ludwig, Dick, Mark and us. Pressing apples with Kenny and Lori. And finally the heartbreaking task of dismantling Kelly’s house, moving all our stuff into storage and watching her drive away in her packed car with Venus happy to be going for a ride. Then dinner with Greg and Peggy and a tearful good-by. I miss them.

                Today, in the wee hours of the morning, I am sitting on the sofa in our motor home at the campground in Davenport, IA. We began our migration south a week ago and so far we spent 2 days at Red Wing (Hay Creek Campground) 2 days at LaCrosse (Goose Island Park), 2 days at Dubuque (Finley’s Landing) and now we are here at West Lake Park. We will finish this part of our journey with stops in Hannibal, Springfield and Kansas City to connect with old friends, finish business, and prepare for the next season and the unknown road ahead.

May 2014

                         Forty Years in the Land of Lincoln                                                                                                     

Forty years in the Land of Lincoln, with the Corn, in the Prairie State. He said, “We’ve come to the banana belt”. It was February and we could play outside without a coat. We weren’t in Minnesota anymore even though the children that came later looked like Minnesota kids and then they went back… no they didn’t go back because they are from here… the Prairie. They went to Minnesota. So even though we were in the land where Big Blue Stem sends roots 20 feet into the earth, our roots didn’t go that far. We are more like corn, a recent arrival whose roots are not so deep.

He had a plan… he always has a plan. We’d build a life together. So we started, in Jacksonville. We are nothing if not industrious… it has been said of us, “constant industry”.  Those first years of starting a nest egg looked more like a party to anyone on the outside. That small group of friends worked long hours in the store and then partied together.  Then the kids came, the store closed and our group scattered. We landed in the Capital City, known as Springpatch to some.

So we settled in a subdivision called Franklin Park out by the University that grew up out of the prairie. He sold spark plugs, a business that shrunk as the automotive industry was revolutionized by the advent of the electronic ignition. I worked for the legislature for a while. Our children grew, went to school and thrived in the subdivision surrounded by corn. There was soccer and gymnastics and softball and baseball and swimming, swimming, swimming. The Parent Teacher Club and Girl Scouts and Wednesday Thing at the Presbyterian Church, the one with Lincoln’s Pew.  The friends we made were the people with children involved in the same things as ours. Good people in our lives.

And when the Legislature dumped me I began to build a new life and a new career all the while driving children hither and yon. I turned my sights to the University… then known as Sangamon State University on the other side of the corn. New awareness, new knowledge and wonderful friends came my way as my world and new opportunities opened to me.

 

So I graduated and went to work in what would turn out to be my life’s calling, helping families and children who got caught up in the child welfare system just as the mandated reporting laws were enacted. That wasn’t what I planned at all… but then it was he that had the plans.

Thank goodness for his plans. He saw the need to find an activity that would create fun for our family and so we got a boat and Lake Springfield became our playground on summer afternoons with the little black dog, ears flopping in the wind on the prow.  Everybody but me learned to water ski including most of our children’s friends especially the girl with the red hair. They were good at it. And we took vacations to cabins in Minnesota, to the mountains in Montana, to the wilderness up north just to name a few.

And then when the children were ready to leave and I could not see my future, we found this place out by the gardens, out by the corn. And with constant industry….our other name, we took care of these 2 acres, planting, mowing, weeding and then doing it all again. We grew older and celebrated our age. With the help of our friends, we built an amazing shed and became woodworkers creating some beautiful furniture. Constant industry. We painted and remodeled and decorated this place until it was beautiful… it was always beautiful but we made it beutifuller.

In those days with businesses buying up businesses and constant reorganizations, the certain demise of his job finally occurred. We knew it would eventually but it lasted until it served its purpose. The kids were in college. A new opportunity arose selling all kinds of things providing us with a cornucopia of samples and a fresh new outlook on life.

And when not being industrious we rode bikes with the notorious NOBES (Numb on Both Ends) on Saturdays around the county. With our dear friends, we represented the NOBES at TRAM (The Ride Across Minnesota).  We laughed and joked and ate breakfast with a wonderful group of friends. It was an awesome season in our lives but like so many of our friendship groups they scattered.

 Every year, a weekend in April became the Sister’s Retreat when my 3 sisters gathered here to celebrate our lives. Now our daughters, daughters-in-law, nieces and nieces-in-law gather each year to laugh, eat and tell stories. We changed our name to DOM (Daughters of Marjorie) to celebrate our mother’s life. Now DOM is safely in the hands of the next generation. The dining room hosted feasts for  DOM, Thanksgiving, gourmet dinners and gatherings of friends bathed in the warm glow from the dark cranberry walls and candle light.

The boat gathered dust and took up the third stall in the garage and so we decided to sell and that money sat in the bank waiting for something new. One day when a bunch of motorcyclists were in town, I saw a man and woman getting off their big road bike, both in leather chaps and jackets. I thought to myself, “We could do that.” I kept that thought in my head for a week because I knew as soon as I said it out loud, he would start to shop for a bike. So for 9 years we rode our Ultra Classic to beautiful places around the country…. but mostly down highways lined by corn.

Our family is little bigger now. We have a wonderful daughter-in-law who gave us the light of our lives, a little girl named Edie who is 2 years old and is calling us home.

The Ultra Classic is sitting in the 3^rd stall of the garage…. Not collecting dust because it is covered. But it is for sale. The beautiful house has a contract on it and we are now shepherding it for the next owners.  Our jobs are winding down as we prepare to turn them over to new people. Our constant industry will become less constant but we still have a plan. When we are finished working and have no house, we will get a big motor home and live wherever it takes us, sometimes home to Edie.  We have friends scattered around the country. Now we will go where they are.  He says, “It sounds like a plan.”