Cold Camping, 16 to 18 April 2009

With our dog Keesha, Fred and I left home at mile mark 114 (183 km mark) at 11 AM to drive up to our 40 acres in northern Arizona. We stopped in Clifton at the old Train Depot to look at the railroad stuff and then proceeded up hill to the Morenci copper mine. Stopped for a photo. The mine geography changes every time we visit, mounds of earth moved, relocated, new deep holes dug in this enormous open pit mine. Even the very road (US Highway 191) is moved over here or over there.

Finally we drove up into the evergreen trees of Apache National Forest (the White Mountains) and stopped at Cherry Lodge picnic site for lunch. The namesake Cherry trees were displaying their pink blooms. Little information is available to explain why there are these few domesticated fruit trees in this wilderness.

We continued driving up the very crooked Coronado Trail, scenic but one of the twistiest roads in the US. Over 400 switchbacks over the 123 mile (197 km.) route.

When we passed Rose Peak which is 8786 feet, (2678 meters), (and a peak we can see from our house), we began to note snow piles in the shady woods, remnants of winter. To our delight we stopped to watch a small herd of Mule Deer grazing near the road. After another 100+ curves in the road, we finally arrived above 9000 feet (2743 m.) at Blue Vista, a lookout point with nothing but wilderness to see. The road straightens a bit as it goes north in the high country of fir and Ponderosa Pine trees. Finally we traveled through the scenic mountain town of Alpine, then up across another mountain pass next to 10900 foot, 3322 m. Escudilla Mountain. Finally descending to grassland at Springerville and St. John’s. Near there we saw outcroppings along the road of the Chinle formation, which is the main soil type of the Painted Desert. It gives slim pickings for the cattle range that is the main use of the hundreds of square miles of this sparsely populated part of Eastern Arizona. Chinle has a remarkable variety of color, from grey, to blue, to red, and shades in between.

Elevation begins to rise as we continued north up on the Colorado Plateau. Junipers and cedar trees predominated. And at the 339 mile (545 km) mark on Highway 191 we reached the turn off to our wilderness retreat. It is a slow 5 miles (8 km.) of 4-wheel drive only to reach our acreage. But it is worth the trouble. A spectacular view to the north of ridge after ridge of treed wilderness, and nothing but wilderness in every other direction too. No houses, no roads, no man-made sounds. At night: no lights, just stars…

After driving up our “driveway” and I use that term very loosely, we set up camp where we always do, a level spot with a tremendous view. Quickly Fred got the fire going as the temperature was dropping precipitously. The forecast had warned it might dip below freezing and it sure felt like it. A hurried supper prepared on a gas stove that would not cooperate, and piling more wood on the fire as it got colder and colder, until finally I decided to go to bed to get cozy. I had no idea how cold it would get…

This was the dog’s first overnight camping experience and she tentatively crept into the tent. She started to make herself at home on Fred’s side of the sleeping bag so I had to teach her that she had to lay on the other side of me. Sadly she curled up outside the sleeping bag.

I slept right through, 8 hours and woke with the first light, before 6 AM. It felt cold, but I didn’t realize how cold until I got outside the tent. The tent fabric was iced, the car was coated in frost, the dog’s water dish was frozen solid. I checked the thermometer and it was 18° (-9°C) Whoooaaaaa cold! We quickly relit the campfire from the embers of the last night’s fire. Fred fixed the cranky camp stove and we had hot coffee and I had hot oatmeal as fast as possible. Fred put the dog’s plastic water bowl near the fire. I thought it was a bad idea, but it did start to thaw the water, and then the plastic began to melt… After that the dog had a sick looking bowl, but it still held water.

After breakfast the sky began to look threatening. Grey clouds were rolling in from the north. Then sure enough, it began to snow. Fortunately it was just a brief storm.

After the snowfall we decided to go on a hike. It is just over a mile (1.7 km) to a very old, but still working windmill that pumps water for the cattle and wildlife in the area. We walked due west according to our little Garmin GPS. The wind and cold continued so even walking didn’t warm us up too much. After photos and finding a pile of blue feathers, the remains of an unfortunate bird, we headed back and slogging through the sand made it feel like longer than that mile or so. Our warm sweet-smelling juniper wood campfire was a welcome sight.

The wind constantly blew at a strong rate. So I spent most of the day near the fire. In the afternoon I did some target shooting with our nice Italian-made Gamo .177 caliber air rifle. I’m a fair marksman if I do say so myself.

I spent the day collecting a few pottery shards from the prehistoric pueblo people that used to live in this area. Then I read a book about Søren Kierkegaard as I sat near the fire. And also did a few yoga poses on a blanket in the lee of the fire. Too cold to get far from the fire!

For supper I made hamburgers over the open fire. I timed the meal so it was finished before darkness fell because the previous night it was difficult to maneuver in the cold and by the light of the Coleman lantern.

We sat by the fire for a long time, as the wind had calmed and the stars were out, although it was still getting chilly. The dog had learned how to sit close to the warmth, overcoming her initial fearfulness of the flames.

After another long sleep I woke the next morning to a balmy 28° (-3°) The sun was bright and the temperature shot up fast so that by the time we left at 11 AM, it was shirt-sleeve weather.
After re-tracing our 5 mile (8 km.) route on the sand road, or road suggestion (!), we turned north on Highway 191 to Sanders, a small town of 500 in the southeast corner of the great Navajo Indian Reservation. Bought a tasty Navajo Taco at a lunch stand and then preceded west on Interstate 40. After 30 miles (42 km.) I exited the highway at the Painted Desert.

A semi-circular road takes one past the gift shop and one of two official visitor centers, then past eight overlooks. We stopped at Chinde Point for lunch on this beautiful afternoon. The colors of the chinle formations are so amazing. They change with the time of day and the cloud cover. I was most impressed by the variety of reds, a result of iron oxidation.

On down the road we went, driving over Interstate 40 again, then across a great grassland where we stopped to observe a herd of 11 pronghorn antelope. Animals are protected within the boundaries of a National Park, so these were lucky antelope indeed.

We drove over the Burlington Northern Santa Fe Railway line and then passed into the petrified logs section of the Petrified Forest National Park. We stopped at Newspaper Rock which gave an overview of several cliffside rocks containing 650 petroglyphs. There are eight places to stop and explore various fossils, an archeological site and many types of petrified logs. We didn’t tarry long as time was slipping away. But did stop to take each other’s picture next to a couple huge fossil logs.

When we entered the Park, a ranger bagged and tied a chunk of petrified wood that I had picked up on our land. Cars are subject to search if there is suspicion that a visitor is stealing pieces of petrified wood or other antiquities from the Park. With a million visitors to the Petrified Forest every year - if everyone just took one piece… it wouldn’t take long before there was no “Forest” left to see.

After buying a boatload of postcards and a couple books in the Petrified Forest Visitor Center, we left the Park and headed south. In St. John’s we called Fred’s son to go and feed our animals since we were still so far from home and it was 4 PM. While driving back up into the White Mountains we saw a small herd of Elk. Then we stopped in Alpine to eat supper at the Bear Wallow Café. From there I chose to drive the straighter route south through New Mexico, more miles, but easier, no hairpin bends. Just before full dark, we passed a handful of Javelina (or Collard Peccary) on the side of the road. And it was 10 PM when we finally turned into our driveway.

We had seen so many wild animals, beautiful vistas, petrified wood, mountains and grasslands, snow and sun. Once home, it was just nice to get a shower and clean off that smoky campfire smell. And find a jammed mailbox of letters and postcards for me!

Outback Adventure In My Backyard

We had the whole day on April 6 to leisurely drive the 85 miles (136 km) or so around our 10,800 foot (3300 meter) “sky island” - so called because it is such a tall peak, set amid the usual Sonoran desert landscape. The experts say that traveling up to the top of Mt Graham is like moving from Mexico to Canada in biological life zones. But this day we intended to spend in the grassland zone at the highland base.

After picking up a couple Subway sandwiches and filling up with gas, the husband, the dog and I left town in our Toyota RAV4 for a day in very remote parts of Graham county. We turned south on unpaved Klondyke Road at Eden, Arizona and about 10 miles (16 km) out came to the site of the 1889 Wham paymaster robbery that netted thieves a half million in gold and silver coin. It was intended to be paid out at nearby Fort Thomas and at Fort Apache on the White River in the White Mountains. Three good Army mules died in the attack, but fortunately for the 12 Buffalo soldiers guarding the wagon train only 8 men sustained non-fatal wounds. Sadly Major Wham’s Army career suffered badly from this incident although it was hardly his fault. The road passed through a defile, or narrow rocky passage that was perfect for an ambush. The bandits had the advantage of higher ground, defensive works, repeating rifles, secrecy and surprise. However 7 “cowboys” were arrested and tried for the crime but all were found innocent by the jury. It was a great sensational trial and the embarrassment of the authorities at being unable to have safe passage in Graham County led to less than favorable opinions when it came to admitting Arizona to the Union as a state. Statehood was delayed for years as a direct result of this lawless incident, the ambush at Bloody Run.

We proceeded down Klondyke Road and explored up Cedar Springs Road. Ate lunch up in a jumble of giant Granite boulders that look as if a giant child was playing with rocks and got tired or bored and left everything a hodgepodge. Small caves and narrow passages create a marvelous place to play hide and seek.

Next we drove down into Aravaipa Canyon, causing a deer to stop and give us a look, which we repaid. But mostly we saw cattle. Brown cattle, red cattle, and lots of black cattle. Calves, cows, and several bulls - a couple who reluctantly moved off the road for us.

We explored up Forest Road 672 which would have been the route of the Army wagons took after leaving Fort Grant that May 11th 1889, nearly 120 years ago. Discovered a nicely built animal water tank with a constant flow of clean, clear mountain water. Snow is melting off Mt Graham so despite the drought in the lower elevations, plenty of refreshment can be channeled into catchments for cattle and wildlife. I went to wash my hands from eating an orange when my dog decided to honor her herding heritage and she went after a couple mama cows and calves. It is beyond me why a 500 pound (226 kg) cow runs for her life when pursued by a 50 pound (22 kg) dog.

We drove through the tiny old ranching settlement of Bonita, Arizona and then headed up on a paved road through Stockton Pass on the south side of Mt Graham. At a level area the Forest Service maintains a pleasant picnic and campsite at the 5700 foot (1740 meter) level where we stopped for a snack of strawberries and bananas. It’s grassy with mature Juniper and Oak trees and so scenic because it’s up close to the steep mountain flank that rises to 9,000 feet (2740 meters) right above you.

From there it is a downhill road back to our little rancho on the east side of Mt Graham. Back to civilization.

Quicksand

The following account is a short fiction:

Quicksand

His words came back to me now, "Watch out for quicksand." I felt the tightening grip on my feet, my legs. So far from the trail I trotted off, to answer the call of nature. How ironic. Was this now nature's last word?

Vaguely I recalled I was supposed to swim, but with only my legs, well, now my knees?

I hoped this wasn't very deep as I struggled. I tried to recall which side of a creek was the deepest. Can't recall. Outside of the bend? Inside? I'm probably in the deepest part. It's my luck, or destiny.

Now at my waist, I can see the world rising higher above me. At a child's height this wilderness looks more ominous. The leaves whisper as I struggle. Can anything be more foreboding than the level reaching my chest?

Nobody around to witness me. I went hiking alone in this lovely lush Utah riparian area. And it is a deep creek bed, crowded with vegetation. All factors that absorb sound. Absorb breath. I yell anyway. It sounds...useless.

I live 50 years and this is it? No fanfare except the fanning of my arms as it reaches my neck.

Oh God, it's a vulture overhead! The sun is right in my eyes now as I look downstream. Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be hikers. Crazy thoughts like this race through my head. When was the last time someone died by quicksand in the US?

It feels like I've been stuck in this gooey, sticky mud for hours. I'm cold, cold and really, really stuck. Darkness is coming; I'm exhausted. They'll find me tomorrow. Just follow the vultures. I'll probably make the National news.

Is that the sky starting to lighten? Am I dead or alive? Strong hands have a hold of body parts I am not even sure are mine anymore. It was a trial of endurance. So thankful they found me.

Later I died of pneumonia, but much, much later. It had that same suffocating feeling. But without the vultures.

Blacksmith Competition

Less than an hour away, in Willcox, Arizona, I went for 2 days to see the World Championship Blacksmith’s in action. They had about 40 iron hammering men from all over the USA competing at horseshoe making, and horse-shoeing. They had 10 semi-portable coal (or coke) burning forges running hot and the guys got the iron cherry red and hammered and hammered. Powerful biceps muscles were the norm. Are you listening single ladies?

I might add, my husband is a Blacksmith hobbyist. I bought him 2 bags of coke ( a processed coal product, not cocaine) - how romantic, huh?

One thing about handmade iron products. They don’t break, rip, tear, spoil, or rot. If kept in damp conditions they might rust away in couple or ten generations. Who cares by then?

The champion blacksmiths were judged by a panel of 4 or 5 men, one from Europe. I watched the British blacksmith demonstrating some forging techniques. But it was a man born in Alaska and now living in California who impressed me. He had iron bent into horse heads, birds, and flowers, as well as fine utility hammers and many other ornamental and useful items. What a master craftsman!

In the end, I think it was another California guy won the competition.

Strike while the iron is hot, has a solid foundational meaning.

Rain, Yoga, Oranges, and Fiction

A light rain is falling this morning. It's so welcome because it has been achingly dry for weeks. In fact I was in Tucson yesterday and the high temperature was 80° (26°C) and even after the sun went down it stayed very nice. This was a record breaking heat. (It is January after all, mid-winter!)

This is my trip to Tucson--

At a craft store I bought paper items for the homemade Valentine's cards I am making for friends. At a discount store I got a second pair of yoga pants for my new avocation. On sale $13. I paid twice that for my first pair. But when I went to pay for it, the cashier rang it up for $15. I told her it was on sale and there was a big delay, much fumbling around, button pushing, cancelling, refunding, on and on. I apologized to the person behind me in line. Finally I was charged $13. Finally. It took them a while to get on "Target".

I discovered a new-to-me grocery (Sunflower) that carries organic food, bulk items, and wonderful fresh produce. The apples and oranges are things of beauty. Oranges are in season in Arizona but possibly these come from the Imperial Valley of California, which is only 5 hours away. The Imperial Valley is probably the most intensely farmed region in the US, especially in winter.

Since I have become interested in a lap top and an iPod (or an MP3/4 player), I window-shopped for them, checked out what is on sale. It is tough to decide what I will like, never having had these items. So I am soliciting opinions from friends.

My reckless, spur of the moment purchase is a book written by a Norwegian, Per Petterson. Out Stealing Horses was on my "wish list" for a year and when I saw it at a special price, I could not resist. I need another book like another hole in my head. But for a European author of this generation, who has horses in his novel, well, I have a soft spot.

So this is the humdrum day in my life. Rain, yoga, oranges and fiction.

Yoga

I started my spring semester class in Hatha Yoga. Now I wonder why I waited so long to do it. First class was mainly about breathing and what yoga is/isn't. I have my own yoga mat and I bought a pair of stretchy pants so I was prepared. My class is a mix of ages, experience and even has one man in it. He rides mules so I will have to engage him in equine conversation sometime.

My goal is to learn to listen better to my body and become more flexible and fluid. I am not really interested in being able to twist myself into a pretzel. But it would be very cool if I could one day do a full lotus.

For years I have tried to learn yoga from books and magazines. Today people think the Internet has all the answers. But there is something to be said for a pair of real eyes to guide one in a new direction. Similar to horseback riding, where one can learn to ride by themselves, but an observer can correct sloppy form by telling you that your stirrups are too short or your reins are too tight or you are leaning. Bad riding form does not always lead to falling off but it can give the horse a pain in the back! As for yoga, bad form is still yoga, but one will get more satisfaction and results if a knowledgeable observer can sharpen your movement.

I think I will go practice savasana.

For Baby-Boomers

When the moon is in the seventh house
And Jupiter aligns with Mars
Then peace will guide the planets
And Love will steer the stars

How simple life was when we were living in the age of Aquarius. But what the Water-Bearer brought was more of the same. From peasant blouses and flowers in our hair, to a ponzi scheme that financially wiped out millions of people. The full moon shines down tonight. We are all equally guilty as we were all so equally naive. The moon is not the source of light, it merely reflects the sun. We have landed several probes on Mars. After the flower, child, comes the cold hard winter. It is best that we come together; for surely we will die apart.

3 Months, Briefly

It has been awhile since I posted. Nothing much has happened. Except:

My husband had to be hospitalized for his heart.

Went on a 9 day vacation to southern Colorado, camped in 3 National Parks, took 200 photos, bought pumpkins from a Navajo guy.

My best horse died suddenly. **cry**

Changed medicines.

Rode motorcycles.

My back "went out" on me for over a week.

My neck was a pain, in the neck (oddly enough), for 4 days.

Started the Christmas madness, including walking on the house roof. Certainly is helpful that I am not afraid of heights or get vertigo.

Other than that, not much in my life.

Personal

I'm going to get personal now. Previously I have been very careful to not reveal the real Occam. After all, the Internet is full of weirdos, right? I have come to realize that I flatter myself that any weirdo would chose to harass me. So, here is the truth: I'm really a 5 year old beauty queen from Wasilla, Alaska. No? Okay, I'm really a retired sports hero in drag. No? If you really must know, I am a high school drop-out who won a lottery and my blog is ghost written.

I confess. Still not ready for those hordes of perverts I am sure will descend on my remote ranch, should my real identity be known. Actually it is for their own protection. My sweet, darling German Shepherd dog becomes curled lips, shiny teeth and low growls if anyone even thinks of coming down our driveway.

This will be a slight problem if I should have to be out of town for an emergency. Anyone engaged to come and feed the animals would have to stand 2 meters away from said darling, sweet fanged terror and throw food at her. I got her as an adult so I don't know what her previous owners did or didn't do to socialize her. But she's a pretty good guard dog, that's for sure.

Personally, I really love animals. I should have tried harder to go to Vet school. I like everything about them: when they are charming, when I have to clean up after them, when I have to groom them, administer shots, etc.

Possibly the only thing I dislike is when they die. I really hate that. That is something I am going to gripe to God about when I meet the Big Guy in the Sky. Why do pets have to die so young? Kids -and adults - have such a hard time with their passing, especially if violent. Maybe I should get one of those large birds; they have a long life span.

I will not accept the explanation that dealing with the death of animals prepares one for the death of people. I am really selfish. I want all my friends and family to live forever so I won't have to mourn them. I decided when I was age 11 that I was going to die young, so I wouldn't have to lose my parents. Well, that didn't work out. I had to bury them in 1993 and 2002. It's hard. No, no list of dead pet animals can prepare one for losing your dear parents. I am not even going to discuss losing a child. That is so contrary to the normal.

I guess I did get a little personal. Life and death is rather heavy though. No cute one liner to end this time.

Columbine

Columbine, or Aquilegia, is a native wildflower in the rarefied air in the high elevations of the Mountain. This showy, spurred yellow-flowered variety is a treat to find along streams or in damp places. It grows up to 4 feet tall, with it's lacy leaves looking fragile but somehow this tough, hardy perennial has survived fire, drought, logging, etc. and continues to delight explorers of the Arizona high country.

Moon As My Witness

The waning full moon is playing peek-a-boo with me in the scattered clouds tonight. The air is as still as glass. Moist, vegetal scents lay heavy in the warm atmosphere. I walk my dog and all is right with the world.

I was walking my dog in a deep dark night in early June when I twisted my knee so badly that I tore various elements inside my knee. Even though it was 2 AM and I couldn't walk, I knew I'd make it back to the house eventually.

Now I am 2 weeks post-op. That is, I had my knee surgery and I've been healing quickly over the past 14 days. You would have to closely observe me to detect any kind of favoring of my right knee. I've concentrated on walking as normally as possible. The doctor is rather astounded at my quick recovery. Even though at 253 years old, I am older than the Olympic US swimmer Dara Torres, her medal winning performance- in her early 40's - has inspired older women everywhere to believe that age really is just a number.

From the start I believed that I would recover completely and with minimal fuss. As the news got worse and worse: first just a little tear, then a large tear, then two tears, then there was severe arthritis - I steadfastly believed that I would not be overcome. I can do that with physical pain. I don't know how. It may be a gift. I don't think anyone would purposely want to be super-sensitive to pain but I know many people suffer immensely. I am fortunate.

I see the moon come out from behind the clouds. Coyotes howl and yip in the distance. A night hawk swoops by with it's crooked wings. I stand on 2 good legs. And smile.

Chew On Culture Snack, Then Digest

I was going to post this HAIKU poem on a friend's Facebook page but the application was down. Facebook's loss is your gain. It is just for fun and somewhat homophonic. And that has nothing to do with sexual orientation- you will understand homophonic after you have read the poem.

Summer, cicadas

Sunning in a Sassafras

Soon succumbing: Ciao!

I don't know if everyone knows a Sassafras is a tree with a noticeable fragrance; or if everyone knows that Ciao (Chow) is Italian for Good-bye. But a poet always takes a chance that the readers are going to have a blank stare after consuming poetry. Sometimes it needs to be digested.

What 30000 US Dollars Buys

Shortly after the last post I sustained an injury to my knee and was in a leg brace for a week. Then shortly after that, my better half climbed a tree up on the mountain and couldn't wait to come down the conventional way. The fall didn't hurt him; it was the sudden stop. He broke his hip. This necessitated the calling out of the Search & Rescue squad because he was in the forest, high up on a steep bank. They needed to use ropes to lower him down in a basket to get him to the road and the waiting ambulance. Then it took time to just drive down the mountain as this all occured at 8000 feet elevation. I met the ambulance and followed them into town to the hospital. He left leaves, needles, forest dirt everywhere he went. The trauma room looked like a campsite by the time he was taken to a regular patient room. They had to cut his good jeans off him and he was sad.

His hip was pinned back together in surgery a couple days later. Then he had a coronary event and scared everybody pretty badly. This resulted in a 24 hour stay in the Intensive Care Unit and delayed his recovery a bit. So when he was sent home from the hospital, he was quite helpless. People think I'm pretty helpless too, but I managed.

Now a little over a month since it happened, life is starting to resemble his Pre-flight. He is using crutches to go out to the garden to water his melons, etc. Yesterday we went swimming together. Tonight he put together a homemade spaghetti sauce. Oh I forgot to mention, he was so long without a smoke in the hospital, and he had so much trouble breathing, that he has quit smoking cigarettes. Yay!

Soon I plan to drive him back up the mountain so I can see the scene of the crime. What was he doing high up in a big old Pine tree? It is too complicated to explain. Doing a good deed. That will suffice. So much for good deeds. $30,000 USD later in medical expenses --

The Time Is Ripe

I watched a short video today. Two men were driving a lunch truck out in a deserted landscape. The driver looked confident but the passenger was doubtful. He turned on a dirt road and came to a large barren flat, stopped and opened up his kitchen area. The passenger gazed into the emptiness and sat resigned to his fate with this idiot who is parked far, far from any potential customers. Suddenly a meteor steaks passed and impacts nearby. Next scene is of the two men beseiged by hungry people who have converged on the site.

Funny. We can all put ourselves in the place of the passenger. We go along for the ride. It seems pointless. We lack vision. Of course knowing the place a meteor will impact is beyond most of us. But if we spent more time with our mouths shut, and listened with openness and expectation, things greater than selling hot dogs at a meteor crater will come our way. So shut off the TV. Get outside in a garden or a park or other natural spot. Observe. Listen. Shut off your preconceived notions. Where are you now? State facts, not emotion-ladened laments such as "in a mess", "not in as good a place as my family expects," etc. Stay only briefly on this. Then look ahead at where you want to go. Others have been there. It is not impossible. Are you willing to be a person who can sacrifice for a better tomorrow? If not, go back and sit down in front of the TV. Your time is not yet ripe.

Occam Trolls the Web

A while ago I added Carole's MS blog to my links. She's a Canadian woman dealing with a neurological pathology. Her writing makes you feel like you've been listening to your dear sister. And we become better, more compassionate people for it.

Another new blog is by Jiwan about his country Nepal. Jaw dropping photos and particulars right from the source can be seen on Nepal--Shangri-La.

I often troll about the web, looking for those individuals with unique things to teach us. So pop in to see my new friends. But please come back to the Double Barrel Ranch. You never know what I have up my sleeve for the next post.

Mother Nature Ends Fire

The fire wrapped itself up on May 23 because of the wet weather. A rare cold, wet system moved across Arizona dropping temperatures to near historic lows. Snow fell in the mountains, including Mt Graham. Snow fell just above the fire line, and over an inch of rain fell on the fire area itself. Occam has lived here 20 years and she has never seen snow in May, especially late May. She quipped to someone: Global Warming? But she read in the paper this morning that lately temperatures are actually running cooler than normal all across the country. Maybe the world. Does this mean that we are warming in reverse? What? Today the visible snow melted off the peak in the warming breezes. The dirt road portion of Swift Trail, as the mountain road is called, was never reopened after the fire because of the snow. Perhaps it will open tomorrow, now that the Holiday Weekend is finished. Our thanks go to the firefighters who did the best they could in the very difficult terrain of the Frye Mesa fire. Officially they are calling it 3100 acres burned. I'm sure they are at another fire somewhere now, maybe California. Our disaster has been averted, other areas are less fortunate.

Frye Mesa Wildfire, Day Three

Benefiting the fighting of the Frye Mesa Wildfire, the weather has turned remarkably cold and wet, and winds have decreased. This is a huge relief for the 321 personnel on site here in Graham County to aid in containing this combustion and a relief for anyone else who loves our Mountain. Evacuation of all the private cabins, public campgrounds and picnic areas was completed today. This situation has likely spoiled many a plan for the approaching big holiday weekend. Although they predict full containment by Sunday the 25th of May, it hard to say when recreation will be permitted to resume on Mt. Graham.

According to the Incident website, the fire sits at 3500 acres tonight. It is directly 5 miles west of me as the raven flies. There are no visible flames at this time. I'm unsure how much rain has fallen over there but we only got a wee bit. The temperatures have plummeted though. It is 49°F (9°C) at 11:30 PM. Incredibly chilly for late May. After all, it was 106° (41°C) just 2 days ago.

"Anonymous" has commented yesterday that the Frye Mesa Dam is "just fine". That is a relief. By analyzing the map, it looks as if the fire did burn mostly to the east, from Frye Canyon to Deadman Canyon. Both areas were burned in the 2004 Nuttal Fire also. Possibly the lack of taller, "higher story" fuels was an aid to holding this fire to the lower elevations. The higher story fuels being previously consumed by the 2004 conflagration.

According to the official sources, the fire began as a spot fire at 1:00 PM, that took off so fast in the high winds that by 1:15 PM they declared it out-of-control. Think of that the next time you are in a wildland setting and are a little careless with your campfire or smoking materials. Those prescribed burn folks were the "experts" and they could not control a spark, you'd have a much smaller chance and could possibly trap yourself or your loved ones. Nobody is beyond learning from this event, professional or casual tourist in the natural world. Fire is friend or foe. Do all you can to ensure it remains our servant.

Photos by David Peters, Bureau of Land Management.

Frye Mesa Wildfire, Day Two

Frye Mesa Wildfire. I stand corrected. It was human caused like 88% of all "forest" fires. (The May 2000 Cerro Grande fire, New Mexico, also started as a prescribed burn. It damaged the Los Alamos National Laboratories.) So sadly, the rumor has been confirmed: a prescribed burn got away from the Forest Service.

You know it is fire season in Arizona if the first thing one hears early in the morning is the sound of helicopters taking fire retardant to a wildfire. At 10:30 AM today it was listed at 1000 acres burned.

Due to the sustained winds, it has vigorously burned in an easterly direction all day. Helicopters and air tankers have been grounded since mid-morning due to the winds. Gusts of 55 MPH have been recorded here today. The incident supervisors are securing local equipment and supplies for a prolonged battle. The fire laid low this morning but after the wind came, smoke rose high all day. Tonight the smell of wood burning, so welcome under the happy occasion of a campfire, is a constant reminder of the loss and devastation just a few miles to the west of me.

The ultimate culprit of the fire is a noxious weed called Sweet Resinbush that infects Frye Mesa. Various herbicides were tried to eradicate it. Most failed to work optimally due to the weather being dry, or they caused damage to such native species as Barrel Cactus or Prickly Pear Cactus. It was introduced as an erosion control plant some years ago. Instead, it became a monoculture, crowding out the natives and ironically leaving the land even more susceptible to erosion. "The best laid plans of men." In addition, cattle and wildlife would not eat it. How could this error be rectified? Burn it. Unfortunately, somebody authorized the burn on a day that a Red Flag Warning was issued. The Red Flag indicates critical fire weather conditons exist because of high wind, low humidity and warm temperatures. Danger indeed.

Mt. Graham has a 7000 foot drop in 7 miles, a dramatic change that paints a clear picture of the steep terrain. The fire is burning up and down various canyons now, perpendicular to the slope up toward the crown jewel, the lovely highest elevations so carefully tended by man. That is the good news for now but the progress depends so much on the weather, and the skill of the fire fighters.

I keep wondering what has happened to the Frye Mesa Dam. A 107 foot concrete arch dam built 79 years ago, the small reservoir is stocked with trout in the winter months for anglers. At 4639 feet (1413 m.) in elevation, the sparkling waters are likely spoiled for many years, perhaps permanently. Run off after a burn is boosted for 3 to 5 years. Blackened soil, rocks, wood debris all flow freely from steep burned slopes. The spillway is sure to be under tremendous pressure. I imagine the whole existence of the reservoir and dam is threatened.

I'm trying to not imagine the horror in those canyons and ridges. Animals fleeing. Scenic glades ravaged. The orange glow and sparks are clearly seen from here. It is altogether unhappy. Rain, come soon.

Frye Mesa Fire, Day One

At first I thought it was a rain cloud on the mountain.

Then my better half spoke up and asked if I had seen the smoke. Smoke? It wasn't a weird rain cloud after all. Yellowish smoke was billowing off of Frye Mesa thousands of feet into the sky and obscuring the sun overhead. The temperature started to drop due to the shade. Frye Mesa is the site of a small dam and water collection area for the city of Safford, Arizona water utility. The city gets water from several sources but Frye Mesa has been contributing fresh mountain water for decades.

After nightfall the extent of this brand new fire, being driven by gusty winds, is quite terrifying. I estimate it has climbed up Frye Canyon or Ash Creek Canyon several miles. The sickly orange glow outlines it's destructive path.

Frye Canyon ends near the summit of Mt. Graham (above 10,700 feet elevation) at the multi-million dollar, world famous telescopes. Recently the newspaper USA Today characterized the Large Binocular Telescope there as superior to the Hubble; therefore, the best in the world today. Ash Creek Canyon ends at 9500 feet elevation at the Columbine Work Center of the US Forest Service. Also located there are dozens of summer cabins, a Forest Service visitors center, a summer camp, and a spruce-shaded campground I enjoy a lot. Obviously there is much at stake with this fire.

I have no idea yet on the source of the ignition. A rumor says it was a prescribed burn but a check of authorized burns does not verify this. Frye Mesa is home of an invasive weed that I know the forest service has been trying hard to eradicate, but I hardly think they would have been out there setting fires when there was a Red Flag Warning today with local wind gust of up to 55 miles per hour forecast.

I will up-date here as more information becomes available. In the meantime I have a front row seat to the terrorism of fire on a dry southeastern Arizona mountain forest.

Dog Fence

Occam's friend was visiting the man-made geographic oddity of Australia where the states of South Australia, New South Wales, and Queensland come together, and here she found the "Dog Fence". It was built over a number of years, to contain the dingoes, or wild dogs of Australia to areas of less agricultural importance. Dingoes evidently have a nasty habit of killing livestock for the heck of it, not for food. Featured in this photo is her Australian Kelpie, a herding dog. I just thought it was ironic to see her standing there with that sign, and worth sharing. Plus to show everyone a spectacular empty desert. My locality is positively rain forest in comparison. The date taken is April 25, 2008.

Barbaro (2003-2007)

I thought I would honor the late Kentucky Derby winner, Barbaro, today since the Run For the Roses this year is almost upon us. His struggle has enlightened the public to pressure for more research toward eliminating reasons for horses breaking down during races.

I've been to a dozen race meets in my life. I've never seen a horse break down during a race. I hope I never do. But it is bad enough to see on TV.

Barbaro won the 132nd running of the Kentucky Derby last year. Two weeks later, during the Preakness race he broke his leg in more than 20 places.

I don't know who took this spectacular photo. But to me, it combines the elements of the thrill of the race, the historic component with the Twin Spires of Churchill Downs, and the extreme popular interest with the jammed grandstand.

"To the victor go the spoils!"

Rest In Peace, Barbaro.

Brief Remarks

It is springtime in Arizona and that means wind. When we moved here 20 years and 5 days ago, it was a calm evening when we pulled in. The next day it turned cold and windy and the wind seemed to blow for 2 weeks straight. When the wind stopped, it got hot. So I am not going to complain too much about the wind. I don't have long hair. I don't wear dresses. Let nature do her thing.

A neighbor's horse had to be put down. It was only a 4 year old. Cause of injury leading to death was hooking his hoof into a "V" in a pipe fence. Cause of rearing that high to catch his hoof: stray dogs harassing him in his small pen. Yes, someone's Fido. The whole scene makes me sick. I am still too close to the date of the death of my own horse. And I will get her picture up here as soon as I figure out the bugs in my photo software.

My famous brand clothes washing machine has broken. It has a 5 year warranty. I've owned it 5 years and 2 months. Naturally.

The Pope is in the USA for his first visit, and to speak at the United Nations. He's going to tell them we should all get along with each other. I'm psychic. We should though. If we have a disagreement, we should sit down and have a watermelon seed spitting contest. The one who can spit the farthest wins the argument. Dominus vobiscum, Amen.

Noon Creek Waterfalls

Snow melt water running off Mt. Graham has enhanced this cold, clear, waterfalls on Noon Creek. As spring progresses, and the snows disappear from the high elevations, the creek will dwindle to a trickle. Then only run faster due to thunderstorms. No native fish are found here in this vicinity. Most pools dry up in summer. The water actually does continue to flow, but underground and invisible. In fact only a few miles from this cataract the water vanishes underground as it makes its' way east and north in the Gila River watershed. The desert mesquite trees tap it with their long deep roots. People too find it with water wells from 90 to 400 feet deep. As I read about the misery of people living near more robust streams and rivers who are suffering devastating floods, I contemplate Noon Creek. And I'm content with her nature.

Happy Easter

This image was sent to me. I just love it. I thought the rabbit was appropriate for Easter and the others are just icing on the cake. The puppy dog seems real concerned about these other critters which in the wild might be considered his prey. All God's Creatures, Great and Small. Do you think heaven will be like this?

Hiatus

Sorry for the long hiatus. It has been a troublesome few months. Keesha's health problems have improved but not resolved yet. Then on January 31 I held the head of one of my horses as she passed away. A sudden illness, not uncommon to horses, called colic, claimed her life at not quite 21 years young. Her name was Sasha and I'll post a photo of her soon.

Spring has sprung in Arizona though. New life everywhere. I am going to expect better days and better days will come.

Definitely I expect to write more regularly here.

On the National scene we are picking candidates to run for president and as someone described it to me, "it is great theatre" and so it is. Our method probably bewilders the outside world, as it generally bewilders most Americans too. But I wouldn't change a thing. Let the games continue!

My favorite US Football player has retired. Brett Favre will no longer be the quarterback of the Green Bay Packers. He was one of the most beloved football players in America. But the body, and mind can only take so much after so many years of top athletic performance. I wish him well. There will never be another Brett Favre.

I spent an entire hour paying 2 bills on-line because I had forgot my passwords. I finally finished the job, but I hope next month will be easier. That is what I get for having a mind like a sieve and not being able to read my own handwriting. Is that an "f" or a "t"? Hmmmm.

Well, I'll sift some more ideas around and see if I can't create more scribbles to amuse you, till next time, from the Double Barrel Ranch, Adios.

Keesha

We adopted this partbred German Shepherd from the Humane Society Shelter. She was close to going to puppy heaven. I've never had such a loyal, sweet dog. She even likes the cat. Amazing. She's had some health problems but once she is over them, I hope she'll live a long, healthy life. Welcome to the Double Barrel Ranch, Keesha.

The Cloud

A dark, ominous gray cloud sits to the south. Sunshine bathes us after a night of rain. The air is moving to the north. It is going to rain again. The birds are getting in their last songs. Rain is rare enough in the desert that I enjoy each facet of it. This will make digging in my garden tomorrow easier. The desert has many faces.

Green

It looks like I have been slacking off in my blog posting lately. It is not because I have stopped thinking. I've been reading a lot. Then there is the news that Al Gore won the Nobel Prize for his work in advancing the cause of "Green." I also heard he is selling his enormous Viginia home because presumably he realizes how un-green it is.

My house was green before there was a green movement. I could list all the features: using grey water to irrigate vegetation, solar panels that produce electricity such as the power my computer is using right now, etc. but I only designed these feautures because I love nature. In my neighbor when a contractor comes in to build a house, the first thing they do is bull-doze the site, leveling all the vegetation, sawing down all the trees. I almost burst into tears when I see that. My contractor only bull-dozed a narrow spot, leaving vegetation within an arm span of the finished house. They probably thought I was nuts. This was 1988, before the green movement remember. The natural plants that are here are the ones which are going to survive drought, storm, animals. And today I have a healthy animal community and diverse plant species - that I don't have to water.

I keep on thinking. I have found great insight on the internet, and utter nonsense. The Yin and the Yang... I'm thinking..... I really am.

Organisms in the Water

My annual battle with algae in the swimming pool has begun. The water is still clear but yellowish-green organisms are growing on the walls. Time to bring out the big chemical guns. Those expensive bottles of mysterious mixtures that do mortal harm to bad substances while being safe enough for your average fifth-grader to handle.

I didn't need any weapons to terminate the lives of 4 creatures who drowned in the pool overnight. I fished out a dead mouse, a dead toad, a dead tarantula, and a dead centipede. This is a highly unusual number of unfortunate non-swimming victims. Well, probably the mouse and the toad swam for awhile before succumbing. Maybe I should put little life preservers out in the water for them? After all, the ancient Buddhist saying is "May all sentient beings be free from suffering and the causes of suffering." Or perhaps I could place small warning signs: Beware! Large body of water ahead. Enter at own risk! Actually, that sounds about right to erect for human consumption. I might add something about yellow-green algae and E. coli, that should keep people out of my pool.

Odd

I got the idea for today's blog from a gal in Tasmania. She had been asked to list six unusual things about herself. So I decided to do that also:

1. I am tall. This means I cannot find pants long enough, shoes big enough, and long sleeve tops with sleeves long enough to fit me. I am used to it by now though. I just assume clothes will not fit me.

2. I have never worn make-up. I tried it once as a young teen and I thought I looked so ridiculous, that I have never worn it again.

3.I'd rather drive a truck than a car.

4. I practice Yoga.

5.I've been baptized twice. Sprinkled as a baby and dunked as an adult.

5.I enjoy reading the dictionary.

6. And finally, I like the smell of vehicle exhaust fumes. But of course I know it's toxic, it's just that it doesn't repulse me.

Odd, eh?

I could actually continue on and on with these oddities but perhaps six is enough.

Memorial to R.O. (1937-2007)

But listen to me: for one moment
quit being sad. Hear blessings
dropping their blossoms
around you. God.

-Rumi

On August 5th our community lost an eminent son. No, he never made the newspaper. He never had a medal pinned to his chest. But by his love, he moved many people to become more and better. He was a conduit of blessings from God to man. I can't help but be sad that he won't be among us anymore. But, God, I hear the petals falling around me.

Stuck With It

I've been doing a little study in comparative languages. (Did you know there is no future tense in Finnish?) Did you know that many languages have no spaces between words? As a native English speaker, I cannot fathom having a non-stop string of letters and being able to make sense of it.

Thinkoftheeatsshootsandleavesbooktoseehowenglishisvunerable.

Yes, I think labels are important. Words are important. Experience needs to be communicated.

Our thoughts can be brought from "out there" and felt in the gut. A good writer punches. A good writer slightly rustles the leaves and our nose picks up the scent. The sticky label is stuck to your skin and difficult to remove. A trace remains. You use a censored word synominous with animal reproduction. Other people laugh. They recall their own similar experience. It can be translated to all languages. We are moved, together.

Home of the Brave

When I was ten, my country was at war in Vietnam.

When I was a teenager, my boyfriends were all certain they'd be drafted and sent off to die in a jungle. They were brave boys. But my country wasn't brave. From that experience we don't want to repeat the mistake of not honoring our troops again.

Now I am 52. My husband served in the US Navy on a ship taking troops to Vietnam. Today the brave boys volunteer for the military service. We send them off to far lands again. Some die. Not many. Not like Vietnam. On the home front we advertise our "support for the troops". But still, my country is not brave.

In World War II, on average, 280 US soldiers died EVERY DAY. America was brave. We wanted to free people from oppression. We were willing to pay the price. We supported our troops. We sacrificed on the home front for them. My father served in the Pacific theatre in WW II. During those awful years we buried our military dead, we buried millions of civilians in the war torn countries, but we who survived and we who were born to those who survived, we hesitate - as a nation- to sacrifice again.

Physical Arizona

Arizona actually is quite varied in it's topography as can be seen on this physical map. My home is in the south east corner, between the mountain ranges. Phoenix is the capital and it is the most populous state capital in the US. It's located close to the dead center of the state. It is much hotter in Phoenix than where I live. Most of the lakes in Arizona are man-made, including all you can see on this map. Water is everything in an arid climate like this. Arizona is surrounded by Mexico, New Mexico, Colorado, Utah, Nevada, and California. The 200 mile long Grand Canyon was formed by the Colorado River cutting jaggedly across the northwest corner of the state. The wide-spread use of central air-conditioning in this sunny clime has made the state attractive to new residents and it is now the fastest growing state in the USA.

The Decision

Recently I was faced with a chance to do something unethical which would profit me, I would profit financially from it and there was no chance that my action would be discovered. I didn't hesitate. I said "no". The vast majority of people may say I was stupid. I brought suffering upon myself because I wouldn't "cheat." It was a win-win situation if I said "yes." So why did I say "no"?

It is popular in today's world to believe that the ends justify the means. We are taught that we have "to play the game" to get ahead. One must have a positive mental attitude. Look at the bookstores, brimming with self-help tomes. You could fill your house with words on how to achieve success.

Unfortunately, when people get that success, they find it is hollow. An astonishing number of million dollar lottery winners are broke within a few years.

So, what can we do to make our lives meaningful? I am not going to tell you to volunteer to help Africa, get religion or join a 12 step program. Those are noble. But no. I am going to tell you to behave everyday with integrity. Be patient. Treat everyone as you want to be treated. (Where have you heard that before?) I may lose financially today. But I am at peace. I'll gain riches tomorrow.

Modern Behavior

I admit it. I am a babyboomer. A product of the 60's. The motto was "Question Everything". The generation before me had another set of morals. Today they are considered old-fashioned maybe. Men opened doors for ladies. Those men did not seriously think that women could not open the door by themselves. It was done as a sign of respect. Women bore the children of the next generation. They were highly invested in bringing those new lives, the product of both man and woman, into the world.

Then the birth control pill caused a seismic shift. Children could become products. Abortion on demand fixed any irregularities. Morals became "relative". Not many doors were opened for ladies anymore.

Recently a talk radio host found it easy to refer to a group of educated and physically gifted athletes- of more than one race-, as some "nappy-headed hos." He is an idiot. He also should have known better as he is closer to that more respectful generation than I am. All have been polluted by the downward pull of modern American culture.

Then we hear of a sick young man ranting in a self-made video, just before he goes into a gun-free (read="safe") school and blows away some innocent people. Men, women, teachers, students. Nobody stopped him. His rampage only stopped when he committed suicide. There is probably somebody out there who thinks they can do more harm than he caused. People cause all their problems.

Basically I think people try to do good, to get along. But there is a hole where respect used to be. Society needs to fill this hole in our moral fiber with a goodness that can reach those who look at others as bullet targets, sex objects, products of conception or evil personified because of their religion, race, ethnic origins, or bank account.

I still question things. Why is this country not what I had hopes it would be when I sang of peace and love in the 1960's? They were naive songs. Dreams of a child. But I remind myself: that character that I want to see in others, it begins with me.

Night and Day

There is darkness, there is light. I find it interesting that God first created the heavens and the earth, and then on the second day got around to creating light, separating the two and making day and night. So there is always darkness before light. Ignorance before enlightenment. Chaos before civility. In the womb our eyes are closed. I can think of one instance where there is light before darkness: when a camera flash goes off in your eyes. Very bright. Then you can't see straight. Gradually vision returns. One sees the heavens and the earth again. They didn't go anywhere.

Of course the 800 pound gorilla in the room on this topic is evil. When was there evil in the world? At first there was no law. All was natural. God saw that it was very good and rested on the seventh day.

I believe we have a propensity toward evil since those days in the Garden of Eden. We know what is right but we choose to do otherwise for a multitude of reasons. Eventually we don't even know what is right. What is right becomes what is expedient. Your actions follow your beliefs. Life becomes one narrow and selfish series of events. When things are all relative, then there is no vision. Without vision a person perishes. Darkness prevales.

After darkness is light though. It is a lie that one should abandon all hope when one enters the darkness. Here is a tiny candle for you, Dante Alighieri.

My Free Will

There were waves made recently when a travelling minister came to our church and said that God was not all-knowing, not omniscient. He claimed God was moving through time with us, which is why we truly have free-will.

It's an interesting idea, but so outrageous that I have to comment on it.

The first thing that comes to mind is how we can have prophets if there is no known future to predict? Did Jesus just hope he would be raised from the dead on the third day?

More serious, studious students of scripture do not question the omnipotence of God, but rather that beings have free will.

If I am given two options A & B and God is all-knowing, God knows I will choose A, God cannot be wrong. So if I cannot choose B, how do I have free will?

This argument is true in that:

-I can freely choose between A & B

-God is all-knowing

-God knows I will choose A

-God cannot be wrong

But the next statement does not follow. Just because God has knowledge of something does not mean that He makes it so. For instance, I love horses. If I am travelling in a car and someone notices and comments that there is a horse out in a field, I have a choice to look or not look. It is my free will. But God knows and everyone else who knows me knows that I will snap my attention to try to see that horse.

Free will and omniscience are compatible.

By the way, God invented time, that He would lower himself to be limited by this construct does not follow.

Birds

We spend too much money feeding wild birds, but they are so cute, we can't help ourselves. These are finches I think.

Found Poem

Here, try this one:

The Unknown

As we know,
There are known knowns.
There are things we know we know.
We also know
There are known unknowns.
That is to say
We know there are some things
We do not know.
But there are also unknown unknowns,
The ones we don't know
We don't know.

Donald Rumsfeld, Feb. 12, 2002

I love this!

Hameln and Greenland

I cannot emphasize how much fun it is to be a member of postcrossing.com. Yesterday I actually got a postcard from the home of the Pied Piper of Hameln. Now is that unique or what? Evidently after the children were led away, the adults got busy and had more children because the population there is now 60,000. (Just joking.)

If anyone wants to learn more about the people and places in this world, I can think of no easier way. Just make sure you have on hand a lot of postcards of your own area. Thankfully the whole project is devoid of politics. About the closest we get to politics is to complain about our various postal services.

I have a beef with my own post office. The substitute letter carrier, not the regular guy, delivered a book to me on Saturday and jammed it so hard into my mailbox to make it fit, that the wrapper and the cover of the book inside were ripped. All because they did not want to return it to the post office and leave me a card that I had an over sized package. My regular mailman just brings any big packages to my door. But that takes time and is above and beyond service. A "substitute" feels no such duty.

Postcrossing requires a lot of trust. You send out random postcards hoping that eventually you will get some in return. Sometimes the mail system is rough on cards and they never reach their destination. Sometimes people get lazy and do not mail what they have promised or even acknowledge that they have received this gift in the mail. But despite these pitfalls, hope springs eternal and everyday people join the postcrossing family, from around the world. Although everyone is hoping to get a postcard from Greenland, those residents seem reticent to join the family of postcard swappers. Do they have postcards in Greenland? I imagine they are pictures of glaciers, which I hear are melting. More land is being exposed and so the livable areas of Greenland are expanding. Maybe there is hope for more Greenlanders! The people of Hameln did it!

A.K.A. Woodchuck Day

Today is the thrilling second day of February when the notorious ground hog (Marmota monax) crawls out of his burrow to check the weather. If he doesn't see his shadow, as I heard happened today, it is good news. It signals an early spring. Now I live in Arizona where spring is always early. And we don't have ground hogs either. But I did peek at the expected overnight low temperatures in places I have friends: -19, -9, -7. and -1. That is painful weather. Here we might get a frost. It is the full moon. It always seems colder on nights of a full moon. There I go sounding like the "Old Farmer's Almanac". Must be the superstitious farmer in me. I'm not superstitious though. I believe things happen in a grand design. For which there needs to be a Grand Designer. And that character has a great sense of humor, to invent a creature like the woodchuck, to whom all honor goes, today, Ground Hog Day 2007.

Lombardi Trophy is "Stolen"

I am sorry to say that I don't have anything original to write today but I have another blog to comment on. Dr. Sanity. You can jump to her blog by clicking on the link I have here for her always interesting postings.

On January 26 she wrote:

"The Democrats lost the 2000 election. Therefore it must have been "stolen".

The Democrats lost the 2004 election. Therefore it must have been "stolen".

The Democrats won back some seats in the 2006 mid-term election to claim a majority in Congress. Obviously it was a completely fair election process overall.

Notice any sort of a pattern here?"

So, did you notice anyone protesting that the election was rigged? Did the media question any of the results? No? Hmm. What does this say about the civility of some political parties? I am not going to say who I voted for, but I've never questioned the results of the balloting. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. My team did not make it to the Super Bowl - where the Lombardi Trophy is awarded to the winners. I don't think that anyone "threw" any games. Maybe I'm naive?

Snow Party

There is a columnist in the newspaper that I read and usually find annoying. His name is Garrison Keillor and writing has made him a rich man. On January 25th he started his column describing the postive aspects of winter, i.e. shoveling snow, feeling like you are freezing to death, etc. He said we "need winter to enjoy summer, just as your kids need to work lousy jobs for low pay in order to appreciate having a car and an apartment." On January 22 I woke up to find 9 inches of heavy wet snow carpeting my area. Branches were snapping left and right under the unnaturally heavy load. I disagree that the native acacia tree in my yard that split off 2/3's of it's being due to being too much a desert tree not built for snow needed that experience to enjoy summer. They say it has been 30+ years since this much snow fell here. I have been enjoying summer just fine without shovelling snow and freezing to death.

But what really toasted my bread was Keillor's comments about the poor. Somehow his column morphed into political commentary and he advised us about poor people and that their grooming is poor and how you would not want to attend a party in their home. I felt like vomiting. It must be nice to sit on his high horse and throw scraps to the rabble below. You know Keillor, when poor people have enough money to throw a party in their home, they actually tidy up as best they can, and one can have a really good time if you overlook the fact that your skinny butt is not sitting on real leather. I've been to gatherings with the high and mighty and with those who don't have much further to fall, and it is much more fun to sit among the warmth of real people than to sip champagne with the big wigs.

Miracle

At exactly midnight this morning the first raindrops fell. All day it lightly rained off and on. Tonight the snow level is forecast to drop to 3500 feet which is just a hair above me. We haven't had snow in years. But maybe...tomorrow.

There has not been measurable rain here since I got home from my trip in October. The desert has been brown and getting browner. But this miracle will do a world of good.

My hometown is renown for rain and clouds which is probably the reason I moved to the desert. It has been a strange winter so far in many places. A jet stream driven wind blasted Europe, knocking trains off their tracks, felling huge trees, some fell on occupied cars and there have been dozens of fatalities. Ice has caused havoc in Texas and many other states. There was virtually no snow for Christmas in most places in the USA. But Colorado has endured unprecedented snowfall. Weather has always been a fascination for me. It ties in with my interest in plants and their cultivation. Last spring I planted my tomatoes outdoors in February. Other years we have had frosts as late as April 1. Drought has ravaged my orchard. What fruit the trees were able to produce was immediately ate by starving wild birds. I may plant nut trees this winter. Maybe they would be safer from birds.

In high school I studied Horticulture 3 years under a teacher who was nearing the end of his career. He retired and they discontinued the program. I was terribly offended. I was an "A" student.

After school I worked 5 years in a greenhouse growing every imaginable plant under glass. I had a green thumb. It has to this day remained my favorite job. And by far, my lowest paying. Every time the government raised the minimum wage, I got a raise. Then they had to give me a little bit more because I had experience.

I credited these experiences with my knowledge and interest in plant life, wild and domestic, and my refusal to give up on trying to grow green things in the desert. My choices have certainly been modified by the lack of regular rain miracles though!

Postcrossing.com

For the past few months I've been participating in a postcard swapping site know as Postcrossing. In just the last few weeks I've received cards from Italy, Germany, Brazil, Portugal, Finland, Slovakia, Austria and Japan. Today I sent a card to Luxembourg. The county I live in is larger than that entire country. My county is not the biggest one in Arizona either. Things are much more compact in other parts of the world. There are pluses and minuses to that. But something much of the world has in common is that they are interested in Arizona. I guess we can thank Hollywood for advertising our wonders to the world. One postcard said she was fascinated by the desert but didn't want to live in one! I actually knew little about deserts when I moved here. I was more moved by the rugged mountains which contrast with the desert. They are some of the most difficult in North America. The mountain that looms over me is only the 3rd tallest in Arizona, but it is not uncommon to have to call out the search and rescue to find someone who has underestimated it. Of course there is no comparison here to the Colorado Rockies or the Alps. But that a person could get lost in a pine-fir forest in a state known for it's cactus, is not a well-known fact.

On the other hand, I've learned much about the rest of the world from the random postcards I've found in my mailbox. For example: they watch American TV shows, they write impeccable English, they complain about the weather too. Dogs are loved everywhere. But first and foremost: everyone loves mail!

Freedom of Expression

With their way of life collapsing around them, the common folk of Nazi Germany still had a sense of humor, although at a cost. This was a joke circulating in 1944:

Hitler and Goering are standing on top of Berlin's radio tower. Hitler says he wants to do something to cheer up the people of Berlin. "Why don't you just jump?" suggests Goering.

Sadly, I read that a Berlin woman, who worked in a munitions factory, was executed for telling this joke in 1944. How different it is today in the USA where anyone can express their opposition to the government's involvement of troops in Iraq and this is seen as normal and acceptable. People at the execution of Saddam Hussein certainly had opinions. They were expressed at a socially inappropriate time, but they had the freedom to do so and I don't think they should be punished. Having bad timing like this should not be illegal.

Happy 2007

I've been sadly absent from posting here this past month. So I resolved that I will do better in 2007. There is so much to comment on, to laugh at, to communicate. May all your wishes for the New Year come true.

1 of 20 Questions

Recently I participated in a postcrossing game called 20 Questions. I sent a list of questions to a gal in the Netherlands and I answered questions sent to me by a gal in Norway. One of the Norwegian questions I think deserves some expansion.

What do you think the world will be like in 200 years?

The short answer I gave was that people will be more educated about each other's culture because we'll be more crowded. Except for the people on the moon.

NASA reports that they are planning on a base at the south pole of the moon by 2020. And this is only 14 years from now.

If we look back to 1806, we might get a perspective on 2206. Lewis and Clark had just finished their exploration of the future western United States. There were colonies all over the world, governed by European powers. Australia was just a penal colony. Asia was only of interest to Asians who did not reach out to the rest of the world.

Events are excellerating today crazy fast (as is the current fad to say.) Look at how the Internet grows on a monthly basis. One can find information on any subject that pops into your head, within seconds. The societies that keep their people in the dark about computers will be washed over and trampled by the technically elite. With such vast stores of knowledge readily available, people will be more enlightened. Cooperation will increase as we begin to look at people in other countries as people just like us, and not foreigners. Human misery such as Darfur will be impossible to sustain as we will all be effected faster.

It would be nice to be in a time capsule and awaken in 2206 to see what has happened. I believe it will be a better, although as I said, more crowded world.

Signs of the Season

Finally winter has shown its face on the Double Barrel Ranch. By this I mean we went below the freezing mark overnight and so we have lit the woodburning stove.

Another sure sign is that I dragged out the Christmas card list and a few decorations. I think Christmas is a good thing, even if there were no baby in Bethlehem. Society needs a season for giving and in the Northern hemisphere, a season to string extra lights to bring sparkle to the darkest days of the year. Heaven knows the retail markets need a centerpiece to ensure they make a profit. And the non-profits need our meditation on our good fortune to spring cash from our pockets for their worthy causes. Not to mention the tax advantages if one is so well situated that one is worthy to deduct charitable giving.

But I digress. Christmas is the season of joy and the measure of that expands and contracts over the days leading up to the holiday: joy at seeing loved ones, sending & receiving gifts and cards, admiring lights and decorations; then there is the un-joy of long lines, trying to get the right gift before they are sold out, spending too much, and a long list of social niceties that you'd rather skip but are obligated to follow. Everyone should have to do things they find less than enjoyable. It is for the common good.

I imagine God up in heaven with a large abacus. He slides a few counters to the good when we have the Christmas spirit, and subtracts a few counters when we moan and grouse. And we get a whole row slid to the good when we acknowledge the baby in the manger.

Meditate On This

Millions of Americans say they practice meditation. Presumably these people have learned new techniques to avoid the emotional storms that others are battered with and that leave them in deep unhappiness. Modern mental health providers have provided treatment by various methods (talk therapy, psychoactive drugs, etc.) but not much has been done to get to the root of what is bugging America.

It is us.

We are suffering from a sensory overload. Distraction is everywhere: TV & radio, video games, cell phones, portable DVD players, MP3 players, computers, the internet, and on and on. No wonder people are breaking down left and right. The book "Future Shock" was right. Obviously we cannot regress to a more simple life. We battle negativity, pessimism, gloom and doom. These feelings flog us. However those who look at these emotions with less "emotion" believe that these are not facts, they are just thoughts. One can let go of thoughts and think of other (more constructive) thoughts. Meditation is a means to stabilize the mind. Some people have made this work for over 2,500 years. (Buddhists) Maybe it could be helpful for more Americans in 2006. It's something to think about.

Equestrian heaven, Ft. Robinson, Nebraska

Equestrian heaven, Ft. Robinson, Nebraska
Originally uploaded by edification.

Rider "P.W." from Wyoming, on the trail near Ft. Robinson, Nebraska.

Ft. Robinson from the bluffs

Ft. Robinson from the bluffs
Originally uploaded by edification.

Bird's eye view of Soldier Creek Valley and Ft. Robinson.

Ft. Robinson, Nebraska

Ft. Robinson, Nebraska
Originally uploaded by edification.

Living Quarters of former military post is now used to house tourists. Spare, but unique, fitting.

The Sand Hills

On September 25 I crossed the heart of Nebraska on State Route 2. This is a highway of full service gas stations and more cattle than people. Plowed fields gave way and I saw I was in a remarkable grassland. The mixed grass prairie of the Sand Hills cover a full quarter of the state. The dunes were formed around 10,000 years ago at the end of the last ice age when the loose sand blew off the newly exposed Rocky Mountains. The lonely green hills undulated on for mile after mile with only a rare ranch house huddled in a narrow basin along with a couple struggling cottonwood trees.

Running parallel to Route 2 for quite some time was a rail line. Long trains of dozens of coal cars from Wyoming passed by. Wyoming is the #1 coal producing state in America. And half the electricity in the US is generated by coal-fired power plants. I think I saw all the coal needed by a small city for a year in all the coal I saw rolling by, in just one afternoon on a sunny early autumn day.

And the treeless sand hills kept rolling by too. Once the home to bison, now producing beef for a hungry nation. Seemingly untouched. A bare land. But not barren.

Horse Philosopher

horse philosopher
Originally uploaded by edification.

How I feel today.

Equine Affairs

This morning I found one of the worst nightmares of any horseman. My sweet gelding "Jack" had a case of colic. This is a serious disorder in horses, not just a belly ache of inconsequence. It can be anything from a mild gas colic to sand impaction to a twisted gut. In 1989 I had my best buddy, a great strong buckskin Quarter Horse, die from colic. Jack has never had colic before. He is 20 years old, but this is not really old for an Arabian. It isn't his "time" yet. Right now he seems improved but I'll be watching him like a hawk for a couple days.

During the last days of my trip I stopped in Wyoming to visit a new friend who raises Arabians and Saddlebred horses. I thought I was interested in one of her grey Arabs. (Like Jack's color; I love greys!). Instead a big handsome palomino Saddlebred caught my eye. I've never ridden a Saddlebred before and know little about the breed. But I know a good horse when I see one. (At least that is my opinion.) And "Ed" is a good looker for sure. The only drawback is he is 1,111 miles north of me. Plus my husband would commit homicide if I didn't sell my Thoroughbred gelding before adding another mouth to feed to my herd. But that is an acceptable risk. I'm interested in bigger horses so I can find a saddle that fits both me and the horse. Right now I have a saddle that fits my small Arabian horses, but not me. And I have a big Australian Stock saddle that fits me, but not my small Arabians. Conundrum. Horses are great fun, but sometimes complicated.

During my trip I rode at Fort Robinson State Park in northwestern Nebraska, just south of the Black Hills of South Dakota. The countryside was open, with hills, scenic views, wildlife such as Rocky Mountain Big Horn Sheep, and tame critters like Longhorn Cattle. I rode a borrowed grey Arabian horse named "Buddy", on a borrowed saddle, with a borrowed bridle. Everything worked well on the horse, but do you think I could get the hang of putting on his bridle? It had more parts than my Toyota. I was all thumbs. Okay, I looked like an idiot putting on his bridle and finding the bit hanging under his chin. Oops, that was supposed to go into his mouth. Let's try again. Occassionally the horse's owner got impatient with me and bridled him herself. After another dozen tries I would have had it figured out. Yes, sometimes horses are complicated.

One of my grandchildren has become less enthused about our shared horse, the big Thoroughbred I mentioned above. He is tall. 16 hands. That is about 5 foot 4 inches high at the beginning of his back. She is 5 foot 3 inches tall. He doesn't pay attention to where he puts his feet. Her foot has been under his hoof a couple times. And it is a long, long trip down his side when dismounting him. I love his height, although he eats as much as two of my Arabs. But with everyone losing interest in him, I guess it is time he finds a new home. I've never sold a horse in my life. And it is complicated. There are 3 owners involved. I hate the "business end" of horse ownership. I just want horses to be happy, healthy friends for life. Unfortunately hay costs money and like most folks, money is finite. Selling a horse is upsetting, but at least it is not a nightmare.

Trip Distilled

From September 17, 2006 to October 15, 2006 I drove 3900 miles and rode along in a truck hauling two horses another 1800 miles. I do believe my need for feeling asphalt under my butt is satiated for some time.

Travelling is great fun. Something new is always around the bend or over the hill. I saw wild turkeys, pronghorn antelope, cattle, and deer in abundance. Corn and soybeans were being harvested. Hay was drying in the fields.

I spent 22 hours on horseback in 3 different states.

Friends became better friends. New friends were made.

I paid for gasoline and paid and paid and paid. (Biggest expense.)

I felt good. My digital camera shutter snapped 301 times, the last time for a rainbow over the Apache Indian land near me. It is good to be home too.

Have Hooves, Will Travel

Occam is going on another adventure and will be without internet access for 4 weeks. UGH! Will Occam survive? If so, there will be new stories to tell. I expect to travel only 4000 miles this time. But some of those miles will be with a friend and her two Arabian horses. I love to travel with horses. Since you are taking them out of their natural environment, you must become their slave in order to see to their comfort and health. When you stop and before you go, the last thing one does is check the horses.

I will be camping in the northern US and it will not be summer. If things go as they have in the past, that means I'll see snow. Hopefully not. I prefer to see only the autumn foliage coloring the landscape. But I'm not a wimp. It won't be the first time I've had to scrape frost off my whiskers in the morning. (I don't have whiskers. That was just a poetic expression.)

So please check back about the middle of October and see what news is coming from the ranch. See ya round the bend...

Orson Welles

I've been to the movie theatre twice in the past 20 years. I saw "A Beautiful Mind" and "Passion of the Christ". With all due respect to Christ, the beautiful mind was better. Modern movies are in a terrible slump. Tonight I watched "Citizen Kane" which was made in 1940 when Orson Welles was 25 years old. He directed, wrote and starred in the film. It is absolutely riveting. Cameras don't film like that today. In 2006 there are no young people born in 1982 with a smidgen of the talent Welles demonstrates in "Citizen Kane". Today there are some actors who are producing movies that they are acting in, but they are established talents, not fresh faces. Movie-making is out of the reach of new filmmakers which probably explains the popularity of "You Tube" and other internet video outlets. Maybe this new medium will cultivate an Orson Welles of the 21st Century. I hope so. I am pretty tired of the fantasy & urban violence crap that Hollywood has been re-making over and over.

Orson Welles 1915-1985.

At a Loss

Five days ago a life was tragically lost halfway around the world. I'd never met the man. I've never even been to his country, Australia. But I, like millions of his fans, mourn his death. Steve Irwin, better known on TV as The Crocodile Hunter, was a conservationist in your face. His exuberant voice and athletic adventures with crocodiles and numerous other species of animals drew young and old alike into knowledge and familiarity. We started to care about the animals. Even old grumpy crocs. There will never be another like Steve. And we aren't shedding crocodile tears.

September 26th

All my life I have lamented the dearth of people also born on my birthday. I've never met a person who shares the same date with me. But thanks to the wonders of the Internet I have found some birthday twins:

• 1888 t.s.eliot -American writer
• 1889 Martin Heidegger -German philosopher (where I get my angst from?)
• 1981 Serena Williams -Tennis player.

The list of famous people who have died on my birthday also is singular:

• 1820 Daniel Boone -Frontiersman
• 1763 John Byron -English Poet
• 1952 George Santayana -Writer and Philosopher.

The list seems heavily weighted to writers and philosophers. Since I fancy myself a bit of an amateur writer and an even more amateurish philosopher, maybe there is something to this "birthdate as an influence" over one's life. The planets were aligned in such and such a manner. Ooops! Pluto is no longer a planet, have to re-write everyone's astrological predictions. Well, seriously I haven't any angst over astronomy. It's all fanciful.

A Melting Pot

On occasion I have made statements in this blog about politics. No matter who you are and no matter how vehemently you deny that politics interest you, the management of public affairs concerns us all.

I recently patted myself on the back for being more "green" than Al Gore. I believe government does some things better than private enterprise. Aha! Occam is a Democrat you might guess.

I also think that the lure of making money inspires people to start businesses and work hard to make a legacy they can pass on to their heirs. And government has no business in taxing the results of that hard work a second time. I watch people depend upon government to save them from Hurricane Katrina and it doesn't work. People need to take more responsibility for their own well being. Aha! Occam is a Republican you deduce.

Sadly for the observer, my ideology is unreliably liberal and unreliably conservative. I have principles, they are just more colorful than staid. Oscar Wilde said: "Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative."

Addicted to Paper

The mailman brought me a most extraordinary jackpot today: a letter from New Mexico, and postcards from Ohio, Finland, Hungary, Brasil and Australia. The stamps on this mail were wonderful too. A koala from Australia for instance. Just pure joy to this philatelist.

I also won a couple eBay auctions of stamps. Inexpensive lots. I think I was the only bidder. I like auctions like that.

In the meantime I have discovered "embossing". This is done with a brass stencil and a pen-like tool with a knob on the end. You simply tap the outline out and voila, your paper is embossed. Looks classy. I am inspired to make a homemade card now instead of paying money to Hallmark. When you care enought to send the very best, make it homemade!

Can you see a theme coming into focus here? Paper. Whether it is a letter, a postcard, a stamp, embossed cardstock... I also do scrapbooking, and rubberstamping, and stencils, and, well, I collect books, magazines, photographs, etc. Paper. Paper is king.

The internet is paper in electronic form. And it is easily transferred to paper by hitting using the Print command. I use this non-paper tool to expand my appetite for paper.

In the end, it can all be burned to provide warmth or as a cooking fire, so all is not lost.

Forecast

Oh my interest in Meteorology! I love to watch the weatherman and see the weak limb they will crawl out on to give us a long range forecast. Scientifically, there is no way to predict the weather beyond four days in the future. Even then the accuracy is not that great. It is not even perfect quite closer in time. How many times can you remember being told it would be a certain temperature that day, say 75 degrees F, and late that afternoon your thermometer read 87 degrees? How could that forecast have been so wrong? Actually the question we should be asking more often is how was that forecast so close to being right? The atmosphere is a classic chaotic system. Being accurate is like finding a needle in a haystack.

Recently there has been great disorder in the weather of Arizona. Tremendous amounts of rain have fallen. Some areas have received more rain than has ever been recorded for August. Where 6 weeks ago was a whithering drought, is now a lush landscape. And the long range forecast for August 6 weeks ago? Normal rainfall, no relief from the drought.

Thunderstorms swirl around me today. I managed to get laundry out and dry on the clothesline before any rain fell. It hasn't yet rained today. No clever scientist, no churning computer can tell me, for sure, if it will rain. It is all chaos.

Watching Aachen

I am an insignificant landholder with a few horses who lives far from the spotlight of world equestrian sports. But I can still follow it, and so I report that the World Equestrian Games (WEG) are underway in Aachen, Germany. Today was the endurance ride which covered 160 KM, or about 99 miles. The loops of the ride took each horse and rider through Germany, Belguim, the Netherlands, then finally to the stadium in Aachen where the victory went to a Spaniard who rode his 8 year old grey Arabian gelding, "Hungares" into history. The American team had a disappointing 10th place finish among the national teams. The USA used to dominate endurance riding. I think it is more that the rest of the world is getting better, rather than the Americans are slipping.

I had a dream of being an endurance rider. My first obstacle was that I owned a very heavy American Quarter Horse. I took him on a 25 mile distance ride but he went lame at the finish. Next I used an Arabian stallion, but he found the atmosphere of so many mares around so distracting, that he was held back by the Veterinary committee, the time spent standing around sniffing mares counting in his final time total. So that didn't pan out for me. And here I am today. Now my obstacle is a proper saddle.

My origins are thoroughly urban. There wasn't a horse for miles from my home. But that didn't stop my growing love for them. At age 26 I purchased my first horse, the previously mentioned Quarter Horse. He taught me a lot. Believe it was Teddy Roosevelt who said, "The outside of a horse is good for the inside of a man." This goes for women too, who today outnumber men as horse owners in the US.

The horses are galloping, jumping, and strutting their stuff in Aachen. And I'm watching.

Entomological Adventures

I am not really interested in Entomology. Except when bugs intersect my life. It is not true, despite the urban myth circulating on the internet, that there are roach eggs in the glue on your envelopes.

It is not true that scorpions can swim up drains and that is why they appear in your sink or bathtub. I am not fan of scorpions. Been stung a couple times and it is like fire. But they don't swim. They simply enter your house by walking in and migrate to whatever moist place is nearby. Poisons are not very effective on scorpions. But luckily they are not good at climbing out of bathtubs and sinks. They keep sliding back as they try to escape, just before I sever their disgusting segmented body into disjoined pieces. Ick.

Yesterday I had an unfortunate introduction to fire ants. These small critters are not native to my area but are becoming more common. Our recent mild winter may have encouraged them to locate here. They are endemic to the southeastern US and Texas. Well, anyway, there I was, ignorantly putting my left hand into a nest of them and suddenly I was being swarmed. They bite and then sting and the sting is, well, it is like fire! I brushed them off as fast as I could but still suffered the normal localized reaction: swelling, burning, intense itching. I had my hand & arm on ice for 3 hours trying to calm the reaction to their venom. Today I have a few small pustules and residule itchiness. I would like to invite these immigrants to return to Texas forthwith.

My years in the desert have been happily with few incidents of the entomological kind. Mosquitoes for instance are quite rare on the ranch. There are no blackflies, no gnats. My dogs have never had a tick. My horses do attract flies however; but they prefer equine blood to human.

That brings me to my last entomology story. Names are omitted to protect the innocent. Recently I was invited to a picnic. I arrived late as I'd been out of town. Everyone had eaten and the leftover food was being attacked by flies. As it was getting on to be evening the decision was made to move indoors. A comment was made that this was a good plan because then the flies would head for the ceiling and could be vacuumed up. This was news to me. Now I'm not a snob. I understand that some folks have trouble keeping flies out of their house. But they go up to roost on the ceilings at night? In fact I witnessed this phenomenom after we moved indoors. But as this was being discussed a young lady asked me what the flies did in my house. I said I didn't have flies in my house. Why not? she inquired. I said I have screens on my windows and I close the door to my house. Finally a guy clarified it for her when he stated for all assembled to hear: she doesn't know about the flies because she's not a REDNECK.

Tourism Equestre

A pen pal in Germany sent me a newspaper article about the horse rendevous in France that took place last month. Called "Equirando 2006 -Alsace-Saverne" it attracted 882 horses, donkeys and mules from all over Europe. People actually rode to the event, or drove in carts or carriages. And for 3 days the host region wined and dined and educated and promoted horse activities. The most interesting event I think must have been the Grand Procession of all the horses through the town. An event such as this could only happen in Europe. What fun this must be! Now this has become one of the 43 things I must do before I die. Of course I will have to borrow a horse or just be a spectator. I am such a romantic about horses; sentimental about the noble steed. Even while mucking horse manure.

Green

Al Gore has a new movie called "An Inconvenient Truth" where he is rallying the planet to personal sacrifice to save us from ecological disaster. Some of the ways one can live "green" is to *switch to compact fluorescent light bulbs, *use a clothesline, and *use renewable energy. I have been doing all these things for years. I have solar panels on my roof that provide electricity to half of my house. I do not own a clothes dryer, I use a clothesline. And I only buy fluorescent light bulbs. Also I have a 960 square foot house, very compact. Good enough for two people. Meanwhile, the champion of "Green", Mr. Gore, lives in a 10,000 square foot home with 20 rooms, and 8 bathrooms in Nashville, Tennessee. Do you think his wife Tipper hangs his clothes on a clothesline in his exclusive neighborhood? Do you think has solar panels on his very nice roof? Is it green to have 20 rooms for two people? Also, he owns a 4,000 square foot house in Arlington, Virginia. I don't think they allow clotheslines in Arlington. It is a rather ritzy town.

Practice what you preach Mr. Gore. Because the way you live is an inconvenient truth.

Penguins

You might start to suspect that this blog is going to the birds, now that I am going to review the movie "March of the Penguins". And my last post was about bears. I can't help it. I am a sucker for animals.

Penguins are not something that I've thought about much in my life. After all, they live far, far away from Arizona, that is for sure. When you watch this movie though, you can develop a kinship based on shared strivings. A keyword in the movie was "resist". The penguins must resist the cold, the storms, predators. Hereabouts the Double Barrel Ranch, the animals must resist the heat, the drought, predators.

Penguin chicks are very cute and it is worth seeing the movie just to see and hear them cheep. Most of us will never get to see Antarctica except through film. But somehow these Frenchmen have made us see the Antarctic through the eyes of an Emperor Penguin. And we are glad to be their subjects.