Been hitting the road quite a bit. Had to shut down the Baraboo plant so anyone who wanted a Circus World souvenir, too late for that.

I shipped the production lines to Tijuana because I could not find any people in the US that would work for 15 bucks per hour. Seems as though it is more fun to collect 240 bucks a week and spend most of it on beer and cigarettes (because milk, cheese, juice, cereal, and frozen pizza and hot wings can be paid for with food stamps).

I have five or six guys following me around thinking that girls should not touch things like an extruder a cut off saw, or maybe a lathe. The bathroom is decorated in total “oblivious guy”, meaning it looks like the step above the minimum a guy needs to pee (which would be an empty beer can). I am just happy to have running water, even though I have to reach down around the toilet and turn it on to flush. There is even a shower!! With a non absorbent t-shirt that has been hanging there for months for a towel!!

I tried to accommodate the machismos and not step on the guys toes when I pushed them aside to make adjustments to the equipment. Otherwise it would take several days to do instead of 2 hours. I just tell them that if they knew how to use the equipment with more skill than I, then I would be happy to relinquish the position. But in broken techno-spanglish. I have two guys who speak English very well, but they happen to be the less senior, so the macho older guys don’t pay any attention to them. We got all the equipment hooked up and running because I had to get spanky with them, otherwise it would have taken many many more days.

We have way cool electrical hook ups, but the best is where I stop for breakfast every day. I drive to the Otay Mesa border crossing, walk across the border, get a taco from this taco stand, (owned by Marco) for forty cents, then I wait for my driver to pick me up and then drive 3 miles to the factory. Another taco truck comes by to serve me lunch. I am happy.

AZ Travels

Kyson was kind enough to head up to Washington to drive with me back to Arizona. I would have flown, but Elsie is scared to fly. That is probably why she trys to take down birds every chance she gets. The drive was not too bad when we were out of cell range and Kyson unplugged him self from his cell addiction. Really though, it was nice for him to still be able to handle the business he needed to, or I would have been driving alone. We especially had fun on the Rez trying to get Elsie to "do her business" as Mom would say. Here is a shot of the weather on the Rez, just out of Chinle and our navigator.

Elsie has been enjoying Pinedale right up till Uncle Boyd accused her of tearing up his garbage every night. (HA, does this look like a dog that even knows what a dumpster is???) Finally today we figured out who was doing the garbage run every night. The Dumpster was totally caved in, had teeth mark punctures all the way through and had to be disassembled to get the lids out. Boyd fixed it up and then still decided that Elsie was to blame because he couldn't find any bear tracks around the dumpster. Except he forgot to mention that right on the lids were big bear paw smears. Then all he would say was, "it still could have been a really big dog".

Speaking of wild life, I had to go to San Diego for a few days and saw Ivanna Trump doing time at the Phoenix airport(I think it is part of her 18 hours of community service, don't you have to wear those vests when you pick up trash on the road as recompense for things like drunk driving?) and then when I landed I ran into Betty Broderick, which was a surprise because I thought she was still in prison. Looks like she soon will be again. (you kids can google the names if you don't know of whom I speak)

Airplane "Celebs"

So I sit down in my usual airplane aisle seat 2D, and this very hyper, skinny, rode-hard-put-away-wet woman starts throwing stuff over me into the window seat. She only hit me in the head a couple of times so it wasn't that big of a deal. Then she starts timing everything . When I looked at her, she leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "when you get to be in our age category you can get things for free". First I was appalled that she thought I was in her age category, (she said she was 55)second I didn't really understand what she meant. She proceeds to tell me that she was in town for a dog and pony show. Asking her to expound was a big risk, but I had another 3 hours of sitting next to her and it seemed the polite thing to do. Turns out she was on a book tour of her photo collection. I took a sneaky undetected picture of her with my IPhone.

There's more:

During takeoff she starts a running commentary about what the pilot is doing and what all the parts of the plan were, etc., and sounding quite authoritative, then she starts freaking out because the flight attendants have not brought her wine. Or a blanket. Or a pillow. She jots all this down in a note book and then says "all this lack of service should be good for a free ticket" . OK, so now I get where she is going with all the timing and note taking.

There's more:

She FINALLY gets her wine and settles down with a DVD player, her own, which she does not have a clue how to operate The Rolling Stones Live in Concert DVD goes blasting throughout the cabin. I grab it and plug her head phones in the right jack and it is still so loud that I can hear everything through the headphones on her head. She tosses them off and starts trying to figure out the volume, people behind us are visibly irritated, the flight attendant comes over just as I get the volume turned down and gives me a dirty look. I really wanted to say "It wasn't me!!", but my hyper, slightly drunk seat mate is looking right at me and I am more scared of her than the flight attendant, so I just said (very quietly) "why don't you just not serve any more alcoholic drinks in this row???" The attendant leaves after finally getting the hint that I do not know this person sitting next to me. Who, just at that moment starts to sing loudly with the sound track and cry at the same time.


Then finally:


During the next crying lull, I ask if she is OK. I then am treated to stories about the Rolling Stones and how Keith Richards wife was the first person to every get her drunk, and how Mick Jagger used to call her apartment in the middle of the night, since her room mate was Jerri Hall, and how when she answered the phone and Jerri didn't want to talk, my seat mate would tell Mick to (*&^%***%#! off (she was very proud of this) and all about the tour parties, and on and on... Then I said something stupid. "Wasn't that a long time ago?" She starts crying again and now I am obligated to care take of her the rest of the flight My usual bury my head in a book strategy is not going to work.


She finally stops crying and tells me all about her Hobby Farm in Montana and that she was the last woman to be married to Steve McQueen and so got to keep the farm and all her book photos are of him and his last few years, and of course she used to be a super model. I looked her up on Google and this is her photo. Wow, I guess we better eat right and get a little exercise (oh and knock off the drugs)

"Celebs" I have accidently sat next to in planes, are Barbie Mintz (above), Joe Mantenga, Tom Skerrit, and a couple of big huge football players (they all look a like so I can't remember their names) who squished me into the corner.

How my ribs got broken, you choose.

VERSION A:

So there I was pal-ing around with Palin, and I started in on why Alaska isn't more proactive in recycling. Next thing I know she crosses her arms in a secret, obviously pre-arranged signal and one of her big burly state trooper bodyguards snuck up behind me and sucker punched me in the ribs with some brass knuckles. As I fell to the ground, John, who was my backup and photog, dropped his cell phone in a cup of water or he would have totally taken the guy out. Good news is the Xrays only show one shattered rib, one cracked rib and a few contusions that give the northern lights a run for their money.



VERSION B:

So there I was hanging around with John, when he gets the Great Idea to run up this little trail to the top of Rainbow Falls. Usually a leisurly hike of 5 hours round trip, we cut it back to just over two hours, so had a solid hour and a half of running up stairs, then 45 minutes of hopping down. These are out of code stairs built by some sadistic conservation corp engineer. After that we ran down to the boat yard and proceeded to tarp and tape off the top of the "Fidelia" 45 feet in the air, build scaffolding, scrape paint, then to top it off, use sledge hammers and grinders to replace some bolts and zincs up under the hull, repaint the rudder, and remove and replace the prop zinc (using cement to hold it in) on the propeller nut. When you have wobbly legs in the first place, it is not a good idea to climb all around, jumping from one creaky scaffolding to another, you are bound to fall down at some point.

How to have an unusual birthday

First, you get on a plane and fly to Wrangell, Alaska. When you pack, you must bring things to trade with the locals. Know your audience. In this case I chose 2 pounds of freshly roasted Caffe Vita, packets of exotic spices, 1 lb of fresh pepper corns, 1 lb of 25 year aged Parmesan reggiano, 1 lb of Spanish Manchego, MacBook software and miscellaneous forklift parts, including extra sparkplugs.

Get up the next morning to beautiful weather and John's special CheesyEgg breakfast. From there on out you just wing it. For example, you could go to Svensens boat building business and get them to weld new zincs on the jet boat "Kraken", then drop the boat in the water and zip all around the harbor testing out the boat for your upcoming fishing trip.


When you dock the boat, look around as something might be going on near by, like all the sudden Sarah Palin shows up to do a publicity tour "bill signing", because she got nailed by the press for never visiting Southeast Alaska. Wandering into these situations can be either fun or hazardous, but concentrate on the fun part because you never know when you might get to ask the future president of the free world her views on the pathetic state of Alaska recycling. Wherein she says: "I didn't know we had any bike races here, is that when all the bikers have to turn around and go to the lower 48?" I said "no, it means when you turn the washer on for a second time when all the grease doesn't come out of Todd's shirts". But she just sniffs and says she doesn't do that anymore because she is busy doing Gods work and doesn't have time. Not happy with the exchange, I pressed and she looked at me with bored glazed eyes and a photogenic smile while saying "uh... that could be a good thing, or not, I'll look intoit fer sure" .

Of course after that and the fact that you have been working out, go to the local diner with a view, for the biggest cheeseburger you can find. It is OK to eat this as long as it substitutes for your cake, and you don't eat it that too. At this point put a candle on the burger to seal the deal.





Time for birthday presents means a new fishing pole!! Sylvia calls my gear on the island "halibut sticks" and says they are too stiff. I picked them up at The Exchange by the dump for ten bucks so what can you expect? I am now set up with an 8' medium action rod and reel with 20 lb test. Time to learn a new craft.

Back to Seattle Gloom

After taking Elsie to the Spa at SageCliff (after we sprung her from Jail), we headed back to Seattle. John, Sylvia and Jennifer decide to go see Carrie Fisher in her one woman show "Wishful Drinking", all about her train wreck of a life ever since she was Princess Lea in the original Star Wars. It made all of us feel like we were not so dysfunctional after all. We were in the front row, so were called on to verify things and answer rhetorical questions. I was embarrassed, so when she asked me my name, I said "Sylvia", of course that makes one a bit more brave when anonymous. She wanted to smoke on stage, but it is illegal, so compromised with clove cigarettes. When I identified her clove cigarette as "most certainly BC bud", she stuck it down my shirt. The coolest thing about Carrie Fisher is she has her likeness forever immortalized as a Pez dispenser.

Visit to the Farm

So, ElsieCoyote goes on a trip to see her country cousins in Royal City. Upon arriving at the farm, cousins Chinook, Zeus, and Shania, all who weight 90-120 pounds each, pack mob her and push her off the lounging deck. There were 6-7 cats hanging around and so Elsie spent the next hour trying to figure out how to get the cats without going on the deck. She finally figured there was nothing to do but go on the deck in order to get the cats (MUST GET CATS was all she could think) she got up to a cat and then all the other dogs held back and waited until she started chasing the cat (stray) and then they all joined in the game, cats all got away every which way. The only cat that did not scatter was George (not a stray) so Elsie turns her attention to George. Just as she has stalked within 5 feet, Chinook comes tearing around the corner and gets between Elsie and the cat and just takes Elsie to task for trying to get George. Evidently George is the dogs' cat. George also never runs away and very nearly succeeded in poking Elsie's eye out. Afterwords Elsie went to Jail.

Well it has been a rough few months. Nora Lea passed away unexpectedly just after Christmas. For some reason I think it has been hard on her, too, where ever she is. I am sure she is in a great place, but she left so many friends and people close to her behind. I miss her always.

I have decided to continue blogging, not only for family and friends, but also because Nora always wanted us to get into writing and this is an excellent playground for honing the skills. I figure no one is interested in my inability to get out of bed in the morning and how sad things are, so I am going to concentrate on travel and excellent and not so excellent adventures that I wish I could share with Nora Lea.

The travel in 2009, so far, has taken me from Phoenix to Seattle, back to the island, Salt Lake City, Omaha, Nebraska, Laramie, Wyoming, Burley, Idaho, back to the island and then Phoenix. And Yes, I do have a few adventures to share later...

Bordeaux - Nora

We said a sad farewell to Spain and boarded a train in San Sebastian. This farewell was doubly sad as we had lost a dear companion at the train station.

We crossed the border into France, and immediately our pathetic, halting Spanish seemed like a comfortable old friend as neither one of us has any French (and I thought trying to figure out Basque was a challenge!). But we got to the station, found a taxi, and with the help of some written directions – in French, that Jenn was clever enough to print out – made our way to the 19th century Chateau where we were staying.

The Chateau was about 10 miles out of the city along the banks of the Garonne, and was once a large wine-producing estate. But, French inheritance laws being what they are, most of the parcels were sold off one-by-one, until our hosts and the present owners bought the house and about 12 acres and run it as the base for their wine country tours. These people are really proud of their wines and their history and heritage. I’ll let Jennifer fill you in a little on the history angle as she was reading up on it, but wine has been produced in this region for a thousand years, so they feel that they’ve pretty much “gotten it right”.

We had a private driver who took us to six different wineries in two days. His name was Marc, he is a business student, and a more charming young man there never was. And apparently we were lucky to have him (or anyone at all) as there was a general transportation strike beginning Wednesday afternoon (we arrived Wed. a.m.) and ending Friday afternoon (we left Sat. a.m.). We also dodged a bullet on the Air France strike. To be honest, we were very lucky in many of our adventures this trip. Don’t get me wrong, Ms Jennifer is the most accomplished travel agent a girl could ever want, but sometimes the universe just steps in, and that can go either way. Luckily for us, it went the best way.So I’ll let Jenn give you the low-down on making wine in the Medoc and St. Emillion regions. Let me just say that our trip to Europe was not only fun (and fattening), but very informative. We learned how sherry is made, saw olive oil being pressed, visited some of the most prestigious wineries in the world and, best of all, got to get outside of our comfort zone and mingle with different people, cultures and histories. Except for one day of rain, the weather was perfect (well, it was bitter cold the one night we were in Paris, but who cares?! We were in Paris!) and except for one snotty French chef (could there be a bigger cliché?), the people were all marvelous. All in all, I’d have to say that this was Jenn and Nora’s Most Excellent Adventure!

In Memorium

So our last day in San Sebastian, I had been scouting around trying to figure out the most efficient way to get to Hendaye, just on the other side of the Spain/France border. That would get us hooked into the French train system and on to Bordeaux. You can go with the national rail and take a few hours, or take the completely confusing Basque train, the Eusko-tren, for 1.45 euros and it only takes 30 minutes. We took the Basque train. Unfortunately HoneyCrisp was eavesdropping on my plans. She had fallen in love with Spain and did not want to go to France. She was also suffering severe depressions, vapors, water on the brain, a distinct lack of firmness and was terribly worried about her wrinkled skin. Not to shock everyone, but bottom line is, she jumped. Right down on to the train tracks and try as we might we could not coax her to safety. Well, the train was on a schedule, and pulled out.

As you can see there were many many signs for and about safety and what not to do posted about, which she ignored. I think she just decided it was time for a brave stand to finish her day(s) in Spain. Nora was inconsolable. I did not push her.