idle thoughts

Summer is definitely over.  We will still have some hot days ahead but the back of this brutal summer is broken.  We are finally getting some good rain.  We received 2” on Wednesday, it rained Thursday as well and on Friday and is overcast today.   It has been the long slow gentle rain that soaks in.  Even the cornfields are greening up from the kernels that dropped during harvest this year.  My few rain water collectors are full and I am kicking myself for having delayed in setting up others.  Everything is starting to lift up their leaves again, except for a few azaleas that I fear have been stressed beyond their ability to endure.  I won’t know how the maples fared until next spring.  These days of rain have also caused some little red lilies to spring up about the yard.

The hummingbirds are passing through.  There is a hummingbird bush right outside this open window where I am sitting and I can hear the whir of their wings.  A wren was investigating the garage earlier and I startled it when I walked in.  This rainy country life is making me lazy.  I brought down some art work, intermediate enlargements, to do the rest of this week at the country house and have yet to take it out of the bag.  I’ll have to do it before we head back to town on Monday.  Some of that work that has been hovering out there all August is starting to come in. 

We came down on Wednesday this week since I was out of clean underwear (and had been for several days) and had conducted all the business we needed to be in town for already.  It would help my productivity immensely to be in one place.  I schlep the computer back and forth (and I’m not talking laptop) but the printer/scanner/enlarger is another thing.  Packing up to leave the city every week is an exercise in anxiety.  Packing up and leaving the country every Monday is an exercise in reluctance.

my summer reading

I have finally finished Book VII of the Dark Tower series by Stephen King.  I’ve been reading this story all summer just about.  It’s not that I’m a slow reader so much as I don’t devote a lot of time to reading.  Not like Husband who devotes all his time to reading.  I like to read but I just seem to have lots of other things that I like to do or that need doing.  

Back to the Dark Tower story.  This is a long 7 book continued tale.  The next book takes up where the previous book left off without any back story to fill in readers who may have picked up a middle volume unknowingly.  I liked that about it.  Steven King wrote the first volume when he was 19 and it shows (and he never got over it apparently as the number 19 gains a mystical dimension in the books).  The later volumes are more mature.  I don’t generally read Stephen King anymore.  He is a very prolific writer but some of the stories I thought were not worth the paper they were printed on.  But that’s just me.  I loved his first 6 (actually, I didn’t read Carrie, but I loved the movie) and I think The Green Mile was incredible.  And I liked Pet Semetary.  So I had mixed feelings when I decided to read The Dark Tower.  There are some really good stories in these volumes that I think would have stood alone.  They are interspersed with long sections that I found tiresome.   (Spoiler alert:  if you are interested in reading these books and don’t want to know how it ends, don’t read the rest of this.)   I think he was finding it tiresome as well, as if he really didn’t know where to go with it.  And so he writes himself into the story.   I’ve read other books where the author includes himself as a minor character (Clive Cussler for example) and I don’t care for that literary device.  King, however, makes himself a major player, not just as a character, but also as the pivotal underlying manifestation of the other characters.  I thought it was a cop out.  Eventually the story moves past his part in it and the main character makes it to the Tower.  I absolutely did not care for the ending.  My thoughts that King didn’t really know where to go with this story or how to end it were completely reinforced.  It ends the way it begins.  It’s Ground Hog Day all over again and it did nothing to give meaning to the whole premise of the story.  Very disappointing.

I read another series of books this spring and early summer which were very entertaining...the Stephanie Plum, bounty hunter books by Janet Evanovich.  These books are light reading, very good and laugh out loud funny.  At least they made me laugh out loud.  There’s at least 14 with a few side volumes and every one has made me laugh.  If you decide to read these books, start at the beginning because the characters build as she goes along and there is a time line involved, though each book stands alone.

Another book I read this summer was Kabul Beauty School by Deborah Rodriguez.  This book is a true story about an American hair stylist who ends up on a humanitarian mission to Kabul and her experiences there.  It is an excellent read.  There is a good review of it here, so I won’t repeat it.

   

the challenge

What is it with clothes?  The shorts I am currently wearing have three buttons and a zipper.  Do I really need all those fasteners on one pair of shorts?  

I went out to buy blue jeans before we left for Colorado.  I hate having to buy a pair of blue jeans.  All I want is a pair of straight leg, on the hip (not cinching my waist or five inches below my navel), undistressed plain ‘ole bluejeans with back pockets.  I don’t want them relaxed, I don’t want them skin tight (thank gods I grew out of that notion!), I don’t want them stretchy, I don’t want them with holes and I want them the right length!  Why is that so hard?  A man can go buy his pants by the inch.  What do women get?  Average.  Average with 4” spike heels.  I always thought I was, at 5’ 4” in height, fairly average.  No. no.  I’m short.  Know where you can buy short length jeans?  Me either.  When you find out, let me know.  So I buy my jeans in the men’s department.  31/30s.  (yes, yes, my waist is bigger than my leg length, thanks for pointing that out.)  What I want is Levis 501s for women.  Waist and length.  Blue.  Button fly.  Maybe trim the leg in a bit cause us ladies don’t have thighs as big as guys.  And it would be so easy to shop for them.  But no, no, women have to have 50 different choices out there and they all fit different and they are hung on racks helter skelter.  Which means that you have to look through every single rack and if you want to be assured that they ft, you have to try them on.  There’s regular, relaxed, slim. skinny, petite, stretchy, not stretchy, form fitting, high waist, low waist, pube waist, straight leg, boot leg, wide boot leg, flare, distressed, faded, stained, ripped, embroidered, glitzed in every combination you can think of EXCEPT, blue hip high regular fit straight leg jeans...the right length.  Not only that but I am inbetween sizes.  A six is too small, an eight is too big, a seven is only available in the junior department and I refuse to buy jeans there because, let’s face it, it’s been decades since I could even pretend to want to wear those clothes.

I finally settled on some after trying on 7 pairs of jeans.  It’s not too low rise, it’s not too faded and it’s not too much too long but they are stretchy, a little.  We’ll see.  Everytime I make a foray into women’s jeans, I am always sorely disappointed.  At least they were on sale.

hike at Long Lake

Our friends, Billy and Kay, live in a small mountain community above Boulder CO at about 8500 feet.  I met Billy the year I lived in Chicago where we were both going to college albeit not the same school.  That was 1970.  He and a couple of roommates had the apartment in front of mine.  The year passed and I went back to Houston while he moved on to San Francisco.  He eventually ended up in Colorado where he met Kay.  Billy is a jeweler and sculpter and Kay is now an editor.  She started the local two county newspaper, made a career out of it and eventually sold it.  She freelances now.  They are both wonderful and talented people and we visit whenever we can.

Our little traffic jam mentioned in yesterday’s post was karmic as it allowed us to be in exactly the right place at the right time with absolutely no planning for our path to intersect Billy’s in Boulder during the 10 minute window where that was possible.  Had we not been delayed, he would still have been conducting his business in Boulder and had we been delayed even 5 minutes more, he would already have been on the bus back to Nederland.

On our full day at their house, we went up to 10,500 feet and took about a 3 miles hike around Long Lake.  It was a fairly level hike with a well established and traveled trail. with wooden sections of the path built over the many little running creeks that drained into the lake.  We saw the lake only intermittantly, mostly hiking through the forested slopes.

arctic gentian

I don’t take long shot pictures.  The futility of that was driven home by my years guiding in Boquillas Canyon taking pictures of breathtaking scenery only to be sorely disappointed in the pictures when they came back.  It was just impossible to capture the beauty and majesty.  I focus on the details, especially flowers.  Our friends thought that perhaps it was too late in the season to see many wildflowers and, true, they were not abundant and mostly gone by, but there were still plenty of individuals to attract my attention and to cause us to stop frequently while I got my picture.  You can click on the pictures for a larger version.

rose colored indian paintbrush

aster

monk’s hood

moss

chiming bells

elephant head 

wood nymph

blue gentian

the main stream that runs into the lake

snapdragons

rocky mountain highs and lows

Rest easy faithful fans as I have returned.  I spent last night and this morning catching up on all the doings in blog land.

I actually had a pretty good time, all the drama notwithstanding.  Well, the drama wasn’t blatant but you could tell it was rumbling under the surface.  Everyone was on their best behavior except for the niece who was doing what she has done since the day she was born which is to play her parents one against the other and they let her do it.  Neither parent wants to be the parent, they want to be the best friend so the child is spoiled and manipulative.  No wonder they got divorced.  Add a new, no nonsense type wife into the mix who gets blasted from both parents where the child is concerned and, well, I'm sure you get the picture. 

It was fun seeing all the cousins and sister and brothers and spouses, nieces and nephews. uncles and aunts.  Most of us there live here in Houston, one family group from Dallas and Austin, but we really don’t see each other much except at one of these functions.  Still, I’m glad it’s over with, glad to be home.

front door...five toed imperial dragon with flaming pearl

The best part of the trip was the part that came before the event we actually traveled for.  We got in early Wednesday, picked up the rental car.  We drove from Denver down to Colorado Springs to meet the architect that gave us a really great job last year.  He showed us some plans for a few other houses he is working on that he is going to try and get some art glass in.  He arranged for us to go over to the house and see the work we did last year which was really great.  It’s a beautiful house, contemporary Asian style, a very nice aesthetic.  

interior doors

master bath shower and toilet enclosures

shower enclosure

Afterwards, we headed back up to Denver and beyond.  We got caught in a traffic jam, not rush hour, turned out to be a wreck further up, which delayed us some.  Made it up to Boulder where we stopped for a break and called our friends in Nederland just to find out that Billy was there in Boulder getting ready to catch the bus at the station just across the street from where we had stopped.  So we picked him up and headed to his house.  Nederland is a small community about 20 miles up Boulder Canyon in the mountains.  It’s a beautiful and fun drive.  We had a great time with our friends, spent two nights and took two hikes.  

Tomorrow I’m going to post some pictures from the hikes.

ta ta for now

We are off at the butt crack of dawn this morning to Denver where we will be til Sunday when we get home.  I’m not really very enthusiastic about this trip even though we will be visiting friends we haven’t seen in about 6 years for part of the time.  I don’t really want to go and if I could have gotten out of it gracefully, I would have.  This is a family celebration around my soon to be 13 year old niece’s Bat Mitzvah.  These affairs are usually fun but this family has been through some very stressful changes lately (divorce, remarriage, power plays, you get the idea) and I expect there to be a lot of drama held forcefully beneath the surface, but as we all know, stuff like that cannot always be silenced.  My plan is to stay as close to the wine as possible. 

Really, though, the main reason I am not enthusiastic about this trip is that I am just plain tired of traveling.  This will be the 9th time we have traveled in the last 12 months.  

We are going to take advantage of the trip and drive down to Colorado Springs and glad hand the architect that gave us a great job last year, maybe even get to see the house itself.  And we will get to spend two nights with friends who live in Nederland and maybe even hike in the mountains and I will really enjoy that, but I will be glad to get home.

I know, I know, you’ll have to do without me for five whole days.  So do your best and I’ll look forward to catching up with everyone when I get back.

Labor Day 1995 - Boquillas Canyon part 2

If you didn’t read yestrday’s post first, you might want to.

It occurred to me this morning that I probably left a lot of stuff out so here is some elucidation on things I gloss over in my reports.

These trips are wilderness canoe camping trips.  And when I say wilderness I mean no cell phone service, no amenities, no roads.  Big Bend, in the Chihuahuan desert, is about as far from civilization as you can get.  Once you put in on the river, if you don’t have it with you, you are shit out of luck (like the time we left the kitchen utensil box on the trailer) and if you pack it in, you pack it out including human waste.

Many people, I for one, think, thought, that the desert was a dry lifeless place.  I was astounded, my very first trip there, with how beautiful, how serene, how spiritual and full of life it really is.  These years in this place helped me put my life back together at a time when it had seriously unraveled.

As a guide, my job, our jobs, were to make sure everything we needed was loaded on the trailer, make sure all the gear was loaded and tied in flip-proof in the canoes at put-in, safely ferry 20 - 30 people (not including guide staff) down the river most of whom had never even been in a canoe before, carry all the gear (except the water which was distributed among all the boats), set up camp, prepare and clean up after the meals, break down camp, reload the canoes, rescue people and flipped boats, perform first aid if necessary and when we finally got to take out, load all the gear back on the trailer.  The trailer we pulled with the guide van was about 30’ long and carried 16 boats ranging in length from 17’ - 20’.

The horses mentioned in this story (and others to come) come from the Mexico side of the river.

part 2:

The second day, I was lead canoe.  Charles described the landmarks I should look for for our regular stops and I recognized them all.  At one point we came up on a large group of horses.  Two adults and one colt on the shore and four or five adults and one very young colt right in the middle of the river.  They were belly to neck deep.  I moved over to river left so as to hopefully not spook them.  They didn't seem to mind as the whole group paddled right past and they never moved.  When we stopped for lunch at Rabbit Ears (a distinctive rock formation), one of the clients found a mother lode of quartz crystals embedded in the canyon wall on the walk back into the side canyon and some blessed shade.  It looked like a giant geode that had split open.  Crystals are just bristling out of the wall and breaking off.  There were a bunch of them laying on a little ledge just below.  I can't believe none of us ever noticed that before, as many times as we have walked by there.   

     

We made camp our second night.  Just as we were setting up the kitchen, a horse wandered through and then on.  Everyone was more social the second night and after all the chores were done we sat around socializing and playing word games.  Just after the last ones went off to bed, a mare and her colt galloped down to the river right by the kitchen area, looked around confused by all the gear, turned and galloped back in the direction from which they had come.  The stars were brilliant, the weather was perfect, the bats were plentiful, and the coyotes sang.     

     

Breakfast the next morning as usual.  Second trip in a row with no wasps so I guess they have moved elsewhere.  One of our clients announced at the beginning of the trip that she was rather anal, obsessive compulsive.  We decided after breakfast that if the trip was going to last one more day, she'd be elbowing Charles out of the way and taking over as head guide.  She was really nice though so we just let do her thing, worked around her.  And I never did see Connie eat at any meal.  They were late to breakfast.  We did our circle and then we were off.  We had a really great group of clients.  It was one of those trips where everyone comes together as a whole, instead of two or more sub-groups.  Renee took over lead canoe since my partner wanted to try the stern.  After about 45 minutes she was ready to give it back.  Everyone made it through Graduation Rapid with style - previously we had had one flip and one swamp.  Then I took over lead to take out.  Got to take out on time, the trailer was there waiting for us and we got it loaded, and waited for the bus.  And waited.  And erected a shelter.  And waited.  Finally we put as many guests on the van as possible and drove them to Stillwell Ranch (this is the place the two trips rendezvous for the ride back).  After the van left we erected another shelter for the remaining guests (who had already changed) since the first had utilized the van, and us guides all went and sat in the river.  Finally the bus shows up.  It had overheated three times on the way to get us.  Then it overheated once again on the way to Stillwell’s.  The bus and the raft trip van (with their guides) took off within ten minutes.  After we had our showers we got on the road ourselves stopping for dinner in Del Rio.  I drove the Marathon to Del Rio shift this trip.  We had to take it slow so our van wouldn't overheat, the AC didn't work well, and we had to stop for gas 9 times.  The van was underpowered and pulling that trailer up those long inclines, I could literally see the gas gauge drop.  But we didn't have any other engine trouble.  We didn't hit Don's till just after 8 AM.    

     

Since we had gotten in so late, Aaron and I went ahead and stayed to help unload the van.  After everything was done, Don entertained us with Tales From The Dark Side Of The Bus Ride Back.  Tensions rose and they almost broke out into fist fights.  The bus overheated again on the way from Stillwell's to Marathon.  Some of the Santa Elena people bought a case of beer at Stillwell's and then insisted that they stop for ice.  Dinner was hamburgers from McDonalds in Del Rio.  The air conditioning went out after Del Rio.  People got nasty.  Santa Elena people had moved Boquillas people's stuff and taken their seats on the bus and would not give them up.  Another contingent in the back barricaded the door to the bathroom and wouldn't let anyone use it because of the smell, which did not make the belligerent beer drinkers happy at all.  Elise (guide on the raft trip) bit someone from the Boquillas trip because she thought he was going to put her through the vent in the roof of the bus.  Then Connie (the one who wasn't eating on our trip) got sick and went into shock.  Don had her up in the front of the bus monitoring her vital signs and keeping her cool with ice.  Turns out, she was sick before she left on the trip.  Through all this Don, John, and Shirley were trying to calm everyone down and soothe ruffled feathers.  They got back at 5:20 AM.         

     

We had our own little mutiny on the van ride back.  They all took up for Aaron and voted that he should get to call in sick to school.  So I relented and let him stay home.