New Adventures

Our recent activities have primarily involved waiting. Waiting for the right new car to show up, waiting for the next adventures to begin, and most especially, waiting for the baby. 

The Harbor Master is expecting her first child very soon, and we have been at home for several weeks in anticipation of the coming of this little one. Of course, in addition to being the Harbor Master and RC's first child, it is also the first grandbaby for the Commodore and the Admiral, and the first niece or nephew for the members of the crew. Needless to say, everyone is quite excited. Things seem to be as ready as they will get, with the majority of things in place for the Baby. 

So right now, we are really just waiting, which can be its own adventure. 

In the Wagon's Footsteps (Tire tracks?)

After a prolonged illness aggravated by by improperly qualified old car docs, the Y.S. has met her match. She crawled into the front yard, and breathed her last. Yes, after more than 200,000 miles, the old station wagon has gone belly up.

Perhaps the most interesting part about the Y.S. was not the fact that she made several cross country trips, or that we could load her with enough gear for six people for two weeks (that includes camping gear and a full collection of schoolbooks for five different grades) or that she once went airborne, landed in a water/mud filled ditch and was pulled out by a tractor practically unscathed, or that she could never be mistaken in a parking lot or even any of her other many, many adventures. Rather, the best feature of the Y.S. was her unflagging ability to remind people of good times--or fond times at least. We cannot even count the people who have smiled on our old wagon and chuckled, as they said "We had one just like that when I was a kid...."
Realistically, a car is just chunks of metal and plastic and cloth. However, it is also a mnemonic device, and looking at it tends to trigger memories connected to the time when countless similar cars roamed the streets, though they are now about as common as bison.




This has been very traumatic for some members of the crew, not just because the car that has served us well for the past 8 years is no longer among the living, but also because the death of one car means that another must be brought home. Shopping for a car is an activity that has been avoided like three plagues among our crew. So many factors to consider, and so few vehicles that fit the bill. Also, there is the sad fact that fewer and fewer car dealers are willing to haggle. For instance, one really should be able to argue until a great deal has been made.

Which is precisely what the Commodore did. And after all that  bargaining, well, she was sorta obligated to bring the thing home. So, without further ado, I introduce the new station wagon Otherwise known as Freebird.

Non exploring projects.

We have not been in places where extended exploration is possible very much this year. While this is unfortunate in that there are far fewer things to write or talk about, it does have an advantage in that there is more time for other interests to be explored. A lack of adventuring also leaves time for important things, like preparing for the fast approaching cold weather.

The Admiral has often mentioned that a good sock is hard to find these days. He tends to make these comments most especially when he notices that I am knitting a pair of socks. Being a very loyal captain, I took the hint. The Admiral's socks have proved an interesting project. He wanted socks that came higher than the tops of his boots. This isn't really a problem, but it is scary to knit socks with long legs. I tried it on a pair for myself once and had to rip out the entire sock and start over because there wasn't enough yarn for the foot. So I knit these toe-up instead of top down. Second, the Admiral does not have really big feet, they are considerably bigger than any feet I had previously made socks for, and I could not find a pattern that catered to his particular foot size, which is really not a big deal, but does require some recalculations. Following some advice that I picked up somewhere or other, I decided to start both socks at the same time. It was excellent advice. When I finally finished the first sock, I really don't know if I would still have had the courage to start on the second if it had not already been halfway through. 

This is the Admiral's sock. 

 This is the Admiral's sock compared with my sock, which 

is about the size sock that I usually make. 

 This is the Admiral's second sock. It is not really benefiting from this post. 

My other project is one that I have been planning to work on for a long time. I never was quite brave enough to begin before, but once begun it turned out not to be so difficult, and thus far, has taken less time than the Admiral's socks. 

Voila! the top piece for a very small log cabin quilt. Of course, it isn't finished yet, it still needs to be quilted, but it is at least started, which is the hardest part. 

Ten things we've learned. Part 2

#1. It is still a good idea to be ready to dodge when opening the cabinets after a drive. The 1st Mate has really taken beatings over this one.

#2. People honestly think that the summer is hot, wherever they live, and however not hot it is. People in Montana WILL insist on commenting on the heat in July, even if you are standing in front of them wearing a sweater.

#3. When going fishing, it is a good idea not to bring the captain.

#4. The Granary in Norfolk, NE is one of the best places to eat EVER. You can choose from beef that taste like it is from West of the Mississippi River, or chicken that tastes like it is from East of the Mississippi.

#5. People can die from being spiked by a catfish, but usually only if that person is allergic to the venom. Also, it is much better to be spiked by a catfish out of a pond than it is to be spiked by one from either the Mississippi or Des Moines Rivers.

#6. The incredible dumpiness of some campgrounds can be negated by the proximity to an excellent Greek restaurant.

#7. The incredible dumpiness or unfriendliness of some campgrounds cannot be negated at all, by any factor that is present. The only option for these is to get out. Fast.

#8. It is cold in North Dakota. This was proposed by a man wearing shorts in the snow in Minnesota, and confirmed by a Montana track inspector who works in -50 degree weather.

#9. Kitty litter is an excellent deterrent for getting stuck in the winter. It can also come in handy during certain scenarios in the summer. The minute you say "Why are we still carrying a twenty pound bag of kitty litter (in case we get stuck and need traction) when we haven't seen ice or snow in three months" and toss it in the nearest dumpster, you will need it.

#10. Freshly baked cinnamon rolls and a cup of hot chocolate are the best remedy for the day when you wake up freezing cold in September and realize that the first frost date is only a couple weeks away.

A quick list.

So, since the last post, a long, long time ago, our travels have looked something like this:
Baytown, TX- camping on Galveston Bay. Fishing.
Scotts Bluff, NE.
Douglas, WY. Home of the Jackolope.
Miles City, Montana.
Jamestown, ND. Home of the World's largest Buffalo and three white buffalo.
Detroit Lakes, MN.
Minneapolis, MN. This is where the 2nd Mate jumped ship and headed for the home port to strike out on her own. Sort of.
York, NE.
Brookfield, MO.
Hannibal, MO.
Quincy, IL.
Granite City, IL. Terrible campground, nice people. Awesome Greek restaurant.
Keokuk, IA. No terrible fishing incidents this time.
North Platte, NE. The best ice cream cones in the world are sold at Cody Park.
Wheatland, WY. Where we are now.

Wheatland is a nice town. There isn't a lot to do, but it has a great view of the mountains in the west.

And that is where we've been.

Squashed neighbors and two minute thunderstorms.

When we first started traveling, the 1st mate spent about a month going through the atlas finding routes to places where we might be going. Every one of them, no matter where it ended, went through Texas. We did manage a weekend trip to Texas for Triduum/Easter two years ago, but this is the first time that we've made it here for more than a few days.
We began noticing "Southern" things in OK. A mimosa tree or pecan tree here or there, grits, 500 degree heat,  a little boy named Striker, who was called Bubba...etc. Once we got to Texas, things really hit home. The accents, the fact that it never cools down at all, it's all here, very much like Alabama.

On July 3, we were camped on the shore of Lake Texoma. The campground was exceedingly crowded because of the holiday, and the sites were uncomfortably close together, but that could all be got over when one considered the fishing, or so I am told. Our neighbors on the right where a loud, but friendly group, who accorded us plenty of amusement during our stay.
We  decided to have fajitas for supper. Because we were on 30 amp and could not run two air conditioners (the front one and the back one) we decided to cook outside so that we would not heat the house up with our dinner. The Commodore and the crew were down at the lake, fishing, and the Admiral was starting to get really hungry, and so after a bit of discussion, he and I decided to go ahead and cook supper. But we had not the wood for our fire. It had just rained and everything good was soaked.
The commodore returned in time to suggest that rather than building a we fire we should just buy a bundle of wood. I agreed to start a fire while the Commodore and Admiral went for the wood. I was just beginning to light our little fire when the Head of the Neighbors on the Right came over and called out that they had a very hot pile of briquettes that they had finished with, and that we were more than welcome to use. We declined politely, preferring to have a campfire. The Commodore and Admiral left, and I got some small sticks burning steadily. The Head of the Neighbors came again to repeat his offer. I assured him that our fire was well on its way.
Sometime in the next minute or so, something of great importance was spotted  by everyone. A great black thunderhead was looming over the campground. About thirty seconds later the winds began to rise. Persons began hauling in awnings and blow-away-able objects to safety. I calmly continued building my fire. The Commodore and the Admiral returned. Another of the neighbors pointed out that we really were welcome to use their fire. As the first drops of rain fell, the Commodore accepted the offer. We dragged our frying pan and our steak over to the fire and let the rain destroy my infant flames. The neighbors' fire was a two foot long, two foot wide bed of red hot coals. The commodore slapped the steaks on just as the skies let loose. I held the umbrella over the food. The neighbors lowered the roof of their little tent and went on eating their supper. One of them noticed us with our umbrella and brought another so that we would have better coverage. We cooked our steaks. The rain poured down and the wind blew. We finished the steaks and returned the umbrella.

We cooked the peppers and onions in Tallulah.

Essay on the Amazingness of my Sister the Harbor Master

Quite Frankly, I doubt this post even needs to be written. Those who know her know just how amazing she is, and I hesitate to mention her wonderfulness to anyone who doesn't know of it, as they will certainly feel the pain of not knowing her. But I promised her, and so it must be.
I first met the Harbor Master sometime around the time I was born. Her first kindness to me was rendered before my birth; she so thoroughly trained my parents that they had no difficulty whatsoever in looking after me. Later, while the Stowaway was trying to teach me how to fly (an exercise that resulted in my first trip to the emergency room and a concussion) the Harbor Master was helping our mother teach me such important things as How To Clean Up Your Toys So That Mom Will Not Yell At You. Later, when she acquired a tiny, adorable, half Cocker spaniel half Chihuahua puppy, she appointed me to guard the puppy from our then very little, very puppy hugging sister.On our first camping trip, she gently informed me of the many, many dangers that lurk in Alabama forests. Because of this, I (and the Stowaway) wisely moved into the nice safe cabin, leaving her to comfortably defend the tent with the 2nd Mate.
When we were older, the Harbor Master began to pave the way for us. She was the first to cut her hair short, taking the brunt of the Admiral's displeasure (he grumbled for several months) and the first to drive, and the first to go on a date, and the first to get married. These are all difficult things for parents to handle and she was the pioneer for us all.
Most recently, the Harbor Master showed me the kindness of allowing me to spend an entire month in her company. I flew to Florida for her Graduation ceremony (her actual graduation was last December) and from there drove back to Alabama with her and RC (her husband). They have kindly occupied base camp while we are voyaging.
The Harbor Master assured me at once that I was not at all a guest, and should not behave, nor feel like one. While this sounds very blunt when written, it was in fact, very kind in person. One who is not a guest may do as one pleases without bothering to check with one's host. One who is not a guest may eat any food in the kitchen without asking. One who is not a guest may mow the grass and wash the dishes, without any of the awkwardness of the host insisting that it is not necessary. It is absolutely mind boggling how quickly a month can go by when one is not a guest.
So to thank the Harbor Master for her kindness throughout my life, and particularly during the month of May, I have put it here, for ever and ever.
Harbor Master, you are one amazing sister. Thank you.

I will probably now be hounded by my remaining siblings. To them I can only say that when you welcome me into your home for a month and let me rant about everything that ever bothered me, and feed me all of my favorite foods, and introduce me to new favorite foods, and help me get volunteered to help at some dinner thing that I get a free t-shirt for helping with, and just generally give me a totally awesome vacation, I'll write something on how amazing you are too.