From Under a Rock

(Click on the thumbnail for the bigger, better version)

(You know that old notion of something that has crawled out from under a rock? Well, we all know it usually means that the critter has crawled out from a space beneath the rock—a space large enough for said critter to have been breathing under there. I feel as though I have been under a rock, and a very large, heavy rock—with no space for breathing and moving. Heck, I am not even certain that the rock won’t slip and flatten me again.

What’s it all about? Everything and nothing. I suspect it is mostly about getting older (notice how I skirt right around that getting old thing and write “older”? Somehow it doesn’t sound quite as bad—not so, well, final.) For one thing, aches and pains are piling up, and I don’t sleep as well. That’s all I’m going into on this topic.

Mostly, I am bouncing back and forth between a couple of involved projects and, tough as it is to admit, I’m just not speedy anymore. My photos on Death Valley languish on my hard drive; I have some new pictures from a drive to the Caliente Creek area (I included a down payment above); preparation for a new long-term project are ongoing; taxes aren’t yet done; we have an out of town trip on the horizon; and I have to deal with blog migration in the next two weeks. Otherwise, things are fairly boring here.

Spring is Here!

(Click on the thumbnail for the bigger, better version)

Attention Readers: We interrupt our regular programming to bring you this bulletin. Anita’s first Bear Valley Springs daffodil bloomed March 20. There may be setbacks, but one can't help thinking that this is an encouraging sign.

We now return you to the broadcast of "Chasing Sunshine", part of the Death Valley Days series. That broadcast will resume after a brief pause.

Through the Searles Valley

(Click on the thumbnail for the bigger, better version)

Chasing Sunshine - Day 1 on the way to Death Valley

Down, down, down, through the first valley, then up and up, over one pass down the length of another valley and, finally up over another pass, then down once more. A roller coaster of elevations from 4000 feet to 1000, back up to 3000 and down to 1000 again, then up to 5000, and down, ultimately, to minus 236 feet. At one point, we descended a 9% grade. The path from Bear Valley Springs to the furthest point we reached in Death Valley offered infinite variety in scenery. The journey also provided a rigorous workout for the old Tioga's Ford engine, as well as one that finally evoked the christening of our home on wheels.

The first day of chasing sunshine we set out across country headed north-northeast taking back roads that took us through colorful small towns, some of which were nothing more than wide places in the road. The road through Searles Valley took us past Searles, Argus, Trona, and the sign for Ballarat, three miles off to the east. We sailed by the the gravel road that day, but we had plans for Ballarat later.

All the while, we got a better and better look at the Panamint Mountains off to the East. Majestic, still snow covered, and holding the Searles Valley close, they stretched north then west, as far as we could see. They would serve as beacons throughout the trip.

Trona is the largest of the towns in the valley and proud home of the Trona Tornadoes. (By the way, the Tornadoes are the only high school football team to play on a dirt football field in the contiguous United States. The searing heat in the valley and the highly saline soil kills grass.)

I took a liking to Trona while passing through. The town must have more museums per capita than any other west of the Mississipppi and a most impressive listing of churches is proudly displayed via a well-kept sign at roadside. It would appear that the folks in Trona are hard-working, God-fearing people. Maybe, on the other hand, they just need a lot of preaching to. I suspect the former. We noticed, by the way on our return trip, that the parking lot was filled for the Elk’s Club meeting. An active civic group is surely a likely a good sign.

While I was fascinated by Trona and wished we had time to stop, I couldn’t help noticing that the Pinnacle Inn isn’t tempting. Not to bad mouth the good folks of Trona and one of their fine establishments, but The Pinnacle didn’t strike me as a vacation destination. I hate to say it, but when they hold a bowling tourney down in Lorraine, it’s likely that the loser gets a free weekend at The Pinnacle.

Perhaps on our next trip into Searles Valley I will get to spend half an hour in Trona. For one thing, I want a closer look at Searles Valley Minerals Inc., the sprawling smoke-belching plant here since 1913. Soda ash is processed in that cramped space, and it is the largest firm in the small town. Someday, I also want to see some of those churches. Nice meeting you Trona.

Late in the afternoon, when we finally made it to the top of the pass that connects the Searles and Panamint Valleys, we were greeted by the view at the top of this post—a peek at the 65 mile basin that is Panamint Valley with the mighty Panamints in the background. There was a pause for the engine to cool down and for us to stare—mostly silent, in awe of the landscape ahead of us.

Chasing Sunshine – The Introduction

(Click on the thumbnail for the bigger, better version)

Inspired by Paul Lester’s tale of suspense that he has broken into parts or chapters, I have decided that the only way to blog about our Death Valley adventure is to tackle it in small portions over the coming week or so. I have a couple of projects I committed to that must be wrapped up, plus the usual life chores that have piled up in the corners while we were gone. Naturally, I am way behind on everything. That’s how vacations are supposed to work, right?

We dubbed our mini-vacation, “Chasing Sunshine”. (It worked, by the way. We outran the rain and snow, then, as a bonus, our forecast, here, now says sunny and in the 60’s all week.) Starting last Friday, we covered between 450 and 500 miles in the old Tioga and traveled through breathtakingly beautiful country. We saw more than one scene like the one above and, oh, so much more. Although Death Valley was the destination, half the fun was getting there. But, then, that is the case in most worthwhile journeys, isn’t it?

When we finally rolled into our driveway yesterday, about 7 PM, I could hardly move. There weren’t many parts of my body that weren’t sore and it took a generous amount of Stop Pain (one of those a rub-on pain killers that is a miracle worker) along with a Tylenol to fall asleep, after all the unloading was done. Still, I had a big smile on my face.

Even though we had only three days, we crammed a lot of adventure into the available hours, and I have a loads of pictures to edit and process. Since I got more exercise in one day than I had in the previous two months, I’m too tired to think straight, but already can’t wait for the next on-the-road adventure. When I get my breath, I will get pick up this story and share some photos from our road trip.

Farewell to Winter—Maybe

(Click on the thumbnail for the bigger, better version)

The day before yesterday, we said goodbye to snow for this Winter. Now, that may very well be wishful thinking. It's only early March. We are a long way from long, lazy, days filled with sunshine. At any rate, we celebrated a beautiful snowfall, and I finally got some use out of my new snow boots. We took time off for a drive around the valley simply drinking in the scenery and being grateful for living in such a beautiful place. This winter has been a bit of a blur for me. I felt as though I had missed the entire season. Now, the daffodils have peeked out from under their covers and I am fully ready to watch for spring wildflowers and longer days.

P.S. I'll be back to regular visiting and leaving bread crumbs in a few days. More about that later.

A Little of This and a Little of That

(Click on the thumbnail for the bigger, better version)

Before I start babbling, I want to offer my heartfelt appreciation to everyone for the encouraging notes. They made more difference than you could know.

I haven’t had anything to say lately because I was filled with far more questions than answers and, basically, was afraid of the answers. So, I hid out, played the denial game for a bit, and by then I certainly had nothing to talk about that would interest anyone. These were all health issues (yawn) and there isn’t anything more boring to write or talk about so, but, darn it, they filled every corner of my mind. While these were nothing more than the type of pesky questions that we all deal with from time to time, silence seemed the only humane choice.

Most all the questions were resolved favorably, and I am feeling much better, in general. However—ah, yes, those pesky “howevers”, something else had developed and it has slowed me down. I developed pain in my right hand that has made it impractical to type (my how quaint—it’s “keying” now, isn’t it?) for long periods. Holding my camera for any extended time gets everything stirred up and I have been taking few pictures. Finally, a cortisone shot (for trigger finger—not in my trigger finger by the way—life is filled with little jokes, isn’t it?) is producing real results, and the thumb and wrist may just be plain old arthritis. As the saying goes, “Getting old is not for the faint of heart.”

Still, I have made good use of my limited time with the camera by exploring functions and breaking out of my old philosophy of manual-or-nothing mode combined with natural light and nothing else. I hate to admit it, but those AV and TV modes can be pretty handy. Heck, I have even experimented with P mode (some say that P stands for professional, after all, right?) and I have made use of auto ISO. Live and learn. I continue to investigate off-camera lighting and have lost neither my curiosity, nor my determination to make it a regular part of my arsenal.

We are planning a short trip soon. Now, that I am so much better, travel sounds like fun rather than a dreadful test sure to lead to disappointment, and I am determined to take photos. I wonder if I can learn to use my DSLR upside down and left-handed? Hmm. Not sure I could get used to reading those numbers backwards. I am exaggerating to poke fun at the situation, I will be able to take some pictures even if it isn’t quite as many as I would like. In the meantime, I make simple photos like the one above mostly because I discover more each day that it’s seeing the picture—no matter how mundane and hearing the sound of the shutter that brings me pleasure. For now, I am not concerned about those 12x18 prints.

Passion, Passion, Wherefore Art Thou?

(Click on the thumbnail for the bigger, better version)

Had you suggested to me two months that I would be still be recovering from a routine surgery a full month after a straightforward procedure—one completed without complications, I would have laughed at you. Most likely, I would have retorted in my cockiest voice, “Heh! You don’t know me, very well!”

Hmmm. I suppose we are never too old to learn. I have healed quite effectively. I am able to eat with less pain than in the previous year. (What a relief it is to eat a meal and not wait, then, for the anvil to fall on my head.) Still, I don’t feel at all like myself. I look in the mirror and wonder, “Who is that listless person in front of me?” I read interesting material, there is a brief spark, then my eyelids get heavy, my mind wanders, and I stifle a yawn. The spark fades. Ultimately, I decide to postpone any action related to what I have read.

There has been one accomplishment. I have come up with a new theory. My listlessness started me thinking, and here is what I have come up with: I had always believed that passion, ambition, and creativity resided in the heart, mind, and soul. Now, I realize that they were to be found in the gall bladder, instead. Whuda thunk?!

How did I arrive at this startling discovery? Well, I am living example. I have almost no ambition and only occasionally get a glimpse of a creative urge, as it skitters away barely visible out of the corner of my eye. My passion for any endeavor lasts an embarrassingly brief period of time. Ods bodkins! I am, dare I say it, content to take life easy (easy is a gross understatement) and just allow myself to grow stronger. Meanwhile, I wait to rediscover passion and drive lurking somewhere else in my being. I still have most of my organs, so I suppose there is hope.

From Far Away

(Click on the thumbnail for the bigger, better version)

I have been away. Well, in a sense, that is the truth. I have always experienced illness and recovery in this way. While I am ill, as well as during the period when I am returning to full strength, I feel strangely disconnected from the real me. Even as I write these words, I am puzzling over that statement. After all, I’m not one to claim that I have ever had a firm handle on the real me. Perhaps more accurately, I am keenly aware of not feeling quite like anyone I recognize, during an illness. There have been occasions when a recovery period was dominated by massive bursts of creativity—bursts of activity that were out of character with what is more or less my norm. Still others have been deep troughs of non-productivity with nary a creative urge anywhere to be found. This little period of recovery from something relatively minor certainly has fallen in the latter category. I imagine that may be partly because I realize that I am storing energy for the next recovery that, I now know, will begin next week.

I do know that I am doing well because, if nothing else, I am having much better dreams. The feverish nightmare about the giant beetle-type bug that cornered me by glaring with huge malevolent yellow eyes gave way, a few nights later, to a soothing dream of enormous spring flowers that had sprung up all over our property during the night. I was happily looking forward to photographing the lavender blossoms, when I awoke to see the frost on the ground. I sure wish I knew where to find those flowers. They were unlike anything I have ever seen while awake. A promise for spring?

I also know how well I am doing because I am busy getting everything prepped to allow me a few days of sitting or lying like a vegetable without having everything here go to hell in a hand basket. Lots of mundane chores, on top of some of those usual errand-running trips to Bakersfield and LA, are in the offing.

I still begin to droop around three o’clock in the afternoon, but each day I am more ready for this surgery and a record-rapid recovery. Meanwhile, those creative juices are stewing somewhere deep in my consciousness and who knows what will happen this spring. I do know that The Husband planted daffodil bulbs. Whoopee. I won’t even have to leave the property to appreciate the cheerful yellow blooms that make Bear Valley Springs so colorful and offer a welcome glimpse of spring. Moreover, I am certain that I look forward to much more exploration of speedlites for supplementing natural light.

Soon, I—whoever that may be—will be back.

Temporary Arrangements

First of all, my sincere appreciation to all of you who have dropped by to say hello and send good wishes. Your messages cheered me immensely, and I am grateful to each of you for helping to feel that I am still connected to the conversation.

This type of post is getting to be a habit, but I can promise that it won't last forever. I am speaking of days on end without a word, followed by short posts without photos.

Unfortunately, my body is not the only thing in my life that is operating at less than full steam; I have been without an Internet connection for some time now. Thank goodness for The Husband's computer and his generosity in sharing. None of this is meant to insinuate that I could put up any posts worth visiting even with a connection to the web, but I might have done a tad better than my sorry showing over the past few weeks. I hope to get the Internet connection back today or tomorrow. As of tomorrow midday, I am done with the antibiotic and that should mean fewer days of being marginally dysfunctional. Furthermore, this week is about surgeon-shopping and that experience should be behind me by the end of this month, or at least early February. It seems likely that I will be particularly appreciative of Spring this year.

I am deeply grateful that everything about this stage of recovery is going as well as it is, and optimistic about soon having all this behind me. Normally, a voracious reader and viewer, as well as compulsive-learning machine I have been spending hours with eyes at half -mast and even taking naps! You have no idea how few naps I have taken in my life. My mother learned early on that there would be no mid-day relief for her. Tucking me into bed for a quiet nap was not an option. She would be shocked to know that I have actually nodded off a few afternoons. Furthermore, I have watched more stupid television in the last three weeks than I had viewed in the previous three years. We all know that television more or less washes over you, requiring little or no engagement. Embarrassing as it is to admit, that has been just my speed. Escapism of the cheapest sort.

Oh, well, this thing hasn't qualified as awful by any one's standards and it will be over soon. Moreover, as bad as the timing was for this, there are even some positive aspects to that angle. We have had a good deal of rain (not ideal for walks), and I am already looking forward to this year's crop of wild flowers. We should have a wonderful display this year. Can't get much more cheerful than that. Bring on the poppies and long walks.

Happy New Year

Happy, happy New Year to all!!

May 2010 hold unimagined blessings

for you and your family.