Stepping off a train

Often it could be said I travel for travel's sake. Saturday, December 20th, was just such a day. With my home inspection behind me, the fate of my loan in the hands of my lender, there was no time to worry. Instead, I decided to take my artist child within on a date -- to Omaha, Nebraska.

Amtrak's California Zephyr line is direct from Denver to Omaha. This would end up being a great adventure and perhaps I will be able to write a few travel articles.

Omaha greeted me with a brisk negative 25-degree kiss and a swift fall to my rear--one of those falls you have no time to prepare for. Of course, little did Omaha know, I had been adding padding to my ass for a few years just for such an occasion!

Undeterred I marched into the the Old Market Square for a cup of coffee and some breakfast. In a storefront window, I fancied some more appropriate footwear for the weather and noted in my journal to return to this store of wool later.

With breakfast behind me I set out on the blistering three-mile walk to look at a 20-foot tree assembled using over 700 poinsettias. The tree was amazing and the full-room display of 5,000 poinsettias, toy trains, and antique sleighs was worth the walk and cab ride back to town!

My day continued as I walked the streets of Omaha from museum to museum and gallery to gallery. Despite the cold and several attempts at beginning ice walking, my day out with my artist within was wonderful. I saw papier-mache boxes constructed and painted by artists from Russia, oil paintings from Mexico, sculptures beautifully crafted by high school students, and the Eyewitness exhibit from America's National Archives, shown in only five cities--Omaha the last of the five.

I returned to the great wool store with the fabulous footwear I eyed earlier in the day. The trouble was that the store wanted $180 for the boots and I wanted to pay $80.

To all a wonderful day and may many new adventures await you in 2009.

The Morning After

No one dare mention a word about the morning after. The kind of secrecy one holds after an evening with a forbidden lover. But we all feel it, the unsettling, undigested feast from the day before, wishing, longing, we had not had the final heaping of turkey with fresh cranberry smothered in gravy and mash potatoes, topping it off with coffee, liquor, and the obligatory over-sized helping of pumpkin, and, oh yes, apple pie and fat free cool whip.

Lying on my queen size bed, I kick Sampson to the floor as all good dogs should lie on the floor, besides this leaves me more room to digest. I don on knickers, socks, and sneakers, but I can't move. I feel more like a weeble-wobble that actually fell down and I don't have my necklace with the button to press "I've fallen and I can't get up!"

Slowly coming to from my food coma, stupidity overtakes me and I step on the scale--5 lbs! Really? I lace up my sneakers, make it to the door. I manage to open the door, kick Sam out, watch him run around on the grass. Well, that's enough exercise for me in one day.

I vow next Thanksgiving I'll do it differently. I know I won't. I know I'll be invited to a feast of a thousand feasts. I'll gorge once again.

Perhaps before next year I'll invest in a king-size bed.

For a Better America!

I am elated! I’m sure that those that travel can attest to the disheartening feeling of telling someone you are from America only waiting for political attacks or utter embarrassment, one may come first, but both do come.

Take a moment to truly think about this monumental occasion that has escaped us for centuries. As a country we saw through color. It was only just years ago—within our lifetimes (not quite mine)—that Martin Luther King died for equality of all citizens and today as an entire people we see beyond color and cast our votes for a united country.

Recall also our Declaration of Independence which states “That all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty & the Pursuit of Happiness.” Fifty-four men hailed for equality on July 4, 1776 and over two centuries later our country regains those dreams, the dreams and beliefs 54 men held for a better America.

I predict we will see cooperation that has evaded us. This may very well be the turning point in political particism and the coming together of the people for the people.
For a better America!

Jumping from the Frying Pan!

We oft sit in the frying pan sweltering away -- get out! Get out!

Unfortunately so many times we go back to what we were doing and, guess what? In time, end up back in the frying pan. Here's how to avoid the Colonel's secret extra crispy recipe.

Make a list of 10 things you really want to do. Pick just one and do it. Regularly I write down my 10 imaginary lives. Here are some of my recurring top 5:

1. Pilot delivering mail in Alaska
2. Travel writer
3. Voodoo doctor -- sounds like it would be fun, plus there are some people I'd like to "doo" some "voo" to!
4. Famous inventor
5. Magnificent painter

After my first watercolor class last Saturday, I'm a painter all right -- a painter of what I have no idea and was sent home with the advice to practice every day! But you know what? I did it! I painted the ugliest purple and blue tree with pink leaves this world has ever seen and that was magnificent -- a magnificent painting.

This week join me and do something different! I'm sewing together my latest invention -- panties for the world to see! What will you do?

(Just an aside, who the heck ever thought "colonel "should be spelled like that?)

whirl wind

With five weeks, 19 states, and 6,000 miles from home back to home I've had a lot of time to think. With that I will leave you with a few things. First of which no doubt you're dying to know!

The largest ball of twine is located in Darwin, MN. About 17,400 lbs and rolled by one man over the course of 39 years, it is a phenomenon. Sorry Kansas! Yours is a blob of twine lacking the ingenuity of creative lever systems to appropriately roll the twine around into a ball. And Ripley's (believe it or not there is a twine-fest integrating into our North American cities--pun intended) yours is plastic. But watch out folks, on the "ball" is Wisconsin's own James Frank Kotera twining away at his masterpiece, self-claimed to weigh in at 19,336 lbs! Now those are some big balls.

More bites to chew over your morning coffee:

We have no control over weather only whether we'll choose to be controlled.

There are actually lakes in South Dakota. Lake Poinsettia Recreation Area. This was an amazing viewing event. Thousands (no joke) of birds sat floating in the lake in front of our camp. From the east one bird started to fly and with that in succession like "the wave" at a college football game each bird took to flight moving just 25 feet further to the east before landing, resting afloat again.

I visited the Perryville Battlefield in Kentucky, a battle won by the Confederates, but left the state of Kentucky in Union hands. Standing among the rolling fields of the battlefield were blatant clues to this battle won, but war lost. In the valley a small fleet of Confederate soldiers hid to later storm the unprepared Union army at the top of one particular knoll. When the Confederates reached the summit to sweeping views of Union troops on each hilltop as far as the eye could see they retreated and fled Kentucky leaving behind their dead and wounded. By all historic accounts the Confederates won the Battle at Perryville. Metaphorically speaking often I find myself rushing to reach the hilltop never paying mind to the landscape beyond.

Driving US back roads from nowhere to nowhere in no particular hurry.

The Penn Store - More Than Meets the Eye

In what is today an out of the way destination stands the Penn Store. In family ownership since 1850 when Gabriel Jackson Penn purchased the store, the Penn Store has remained the longest standing single family owned business in America. Jeanne Penn Lane is the current owner, an art major and song writer who once lived in Nashville, TN. She is an amazing woman with wonderful stories. When the store was built, c 1845, it sat at the intersection of two waterways, accommodating horse travel. Today both of those streams are nearly dry from ongoing drought. The floor is uneven, the shelves cluttered, and candy is still sold in jars. Apart from the unusualness, travelers can still find Pringles and a Coke. What makes the Penn Store unique-chairs. Jeanne told a story of a tourist, a little girl. She came to the door and looked in and then ran back to her car. Moments later she reappeared with her father affirming "see this isn't a store, it has chairs".

Well of course. The corner store was a place to go for conversation, especially in this part of Kentucky. When news spread people came to the corner store -- the Penn Store -- to talk about it. Decisions that would affect the entire town were made right there at the Penn Store.

Continuing tradition, the second and third Sunday's the Penn Store features the only live entertainment in Gravel Switch, KY with gut bucket music on the second Sunday and poetry and gossip on the third.

To listen, click here.
To "virtually" visit, click here.

When in Kentucky, take the time to drive to Gravel Switch and visit the Penn Store, where you can get a Bologna sandwich for a dollar and storey telling for an hour. It is definitely worth it!

A Tribute to Sam

My little man! He has been my photo model during this trip. He thoroughly enjoys the hiking, the swimming, and the camping. He has his kingdom on his bed in the car. He has been through it all!

With barely a day into the trip he chases off after a coyote. Just a week later steps on a rattle snake and survives without being bitten. But the latest - he's been skunked! Soaked in tomato juice, Sam sports a pink hue and odor repellent only I can stand! Here's his tribute.

With scant a moments notice he's gone
His burnt orange curly coat disappearing
Against the fallen leaves on the forest floor
Tree trunks in density too thick
To see the North Carolina sky through the woods
His faint bark pierces the thick humid air
I sprint to no avail after my hurried furry friend
Knowing I must stop to whistle

...whistle...whistle...Sam

Reunited we share the last few drops from the water bottle
Leash up and continue our walk
Through the Great Smoky Mountains