Road Trip

How do you pack for epic?

/ wvfurandroot / 1 Comment

packingI am an inveterate over-packer and pretty much an unapologetic one. My Girl Scout training of be prepared is never more in evidence than when I have a suitcase in tow. It’s a compulsion, I must pack for any possibility no matter how ludicrous the likelihood.

I’m leaving soon on an epic trip – we’re scattering Doug’s ashes in various locales of the Southwest – places he loved. Besides packing everything I think I need, I also have to pack him. It seems very odd to have a box of ashes that is all I have left, besides memories, of my beloved – even odder to think of the box and funeral home tote bag as “luggage.” There’s a joke in there somewhere about baggage but I can’t find it.

regerHow do you pack for epic?

It is going to be an epic trip. I haven’t been in this part of the country since I was 10. My family and I traveled Rt. 66 more times than I can count, but we do so making time not sight-seeing. This time I’ve got 10 days to wallow in the glory of Doug’s beloved desert.

He was an over-packer too, but nonetheless teased me about my affliction. He would be amused to know that his ashes are causing me to have to severely prune my over-packing. A box of ashes takes up all of a carryon bag leaving me one smallish suitcase in which to prepare myself for 10 days of 3 different seasons and a variety of activities– yes, this former Girl Scout has to pack for winter, spring and summer as well as hiking, horseback riding and, possibly, hot-air ballooning.

listNo, I can’t add another suitcase. Four of us and all of our stuff have to fit in a rental car. I doubt they want to add a trailer to accommodate my compulsions. So I am trying, really, really hard to be practical and choose clothing that multi-tasks. But with three seasons and a variety of different activities, I am overwhelmed.

I made a list. You know things are dire when I resort to a list. It’s a fine list. Minimal, in fact. The contents of the list are not going to fit in the suitcase. There is pruning to do. Fortunately, I started early. At present, less than a week out, I am about 33% over-capacity. I have the remainder of this week to pare it down.

I’m excited about the trip. I’m spending it with some splendid people and we’re also spending time in some of my childhood places like the Wigwam Motel and the place of my birth. I haven’t seen the southwest since we left Hawaii in 1970 and drove across the country to Quantico, VA. It’s also my first real vacation in nearly 5 years. How do you pack for epic?

The Beautiful Babette

/ wvfurandroot / 4 Comments

The Beautiful Babette

The heat and humidity of this summer is fading. It’s been rough on all of us – all of us being me and the three dogs.

What I thought was just heat-induced malaise turned out to be my incorrigible thyroid further torturing me. And if that wasn’t enough, the monthly shots that have kept my pernicious anemia under control for years became insufficient. It’s a double whammy – both disorders provoke exhaustion.

Like most areas of my life, the puppies were neglected while I slept away every nonworking hour. A routine visit to the doctor led to some blood work and – voila! – I was prescribed an increased dose of synthroid and my monthly B12 shots are now weekly.

I’m beginning to feel like myself again. This is a good thing, because the health department was getting ready to condemn my house and the dogs were fixin’ to run away from home. Indeed, two of them did.

The Traveling Toddlers

Chef Boy ‘R Mine called last spring and broached the subject of whether or not Terrific Trudy and Wonderful Willy could go live with him. Hell, yes, I said.

The three dogs have been a huge part of my life, but I’ve been a terrible dog owner for some time. My work schedule (and malaise) meant that walks in the park and cuddling on the couch came to a complete stop. The puppies spent a lot of time alone. I consoled myself with the fact that they do entertain one another, but it was clear they were puzzled and saddened by my neglect.

The Familiar Boy and the New Yard

Labor Day weekend, my mom and I did a shotgun trip to Charlotte to deliver the two youngest dogs to my son who had just moved into a dog-friendly house. Again, I felt guilty – this time because leaving them produced little sorrow, probably because I know my son will adore them and they now have a huge fenced yard to frolic in. Still, I wonder at the ease with which I gave them up.

So, it’s just Babette, the shih tzu, and I these days – two old grand dames enjoying one another’s company. She was a rescue dog and I’m not certain of her age. The vet guesses she’s about 14.

The vet and I are also baffled by her skin disorder. Babette scratches near constantly which provokes hot spots, lesions and whatnot. All sorts of remedies, prescription and otherwise, have been tried. The only one that works is puppy steroids and her kidneys are too ancient for a daily dose.

Checking out the new yard.

My mother, bless her heart, worried about Babette rattling around alone in the house while I’m at work. Babette was often disgusted by the antics of The Toddlers, but she also was accustomed to sleeping with Trudy and Willy, and, some times, playing with them. Mom is now operating Doggy Daycare. Each morning, Babette and I get in the car, drive the few yards down the hill to Mom’s house and drop her off.

Babette loves going to Grandma’s house. After just a few days of the new routine, she dances and prances, eager to get going, as soon as she sees me pour coffee in my car mug.

Pitiful, I tell you. Pitiful!

Mom is an optimist. She is convinced that with proper care, various lotions, etc. etc. Babette will stop scratching. When her care had no effect, Mom got really serious about it. I arrived home one day to find a pitiful little dog. So pitiful that being the terrible Puppy Mama I am, I burst into laughter.

Mom had shaved every square inch of Babette except for her face. The Beautiful Babette looks like some sort of mutant rat. It’s just pitiful.

And Mom did this when the temps started dropping and nighttime in this house is downright cold. For the first time in her life, Babette shivers. For years, she has refused to get under the dog blankets preferring to sleep on top of them. Both of us now cocoon deep in the down comforter – something else Babette adores about her new life, sleeping with Mom.

Shaving Babette has had no effect on the scratching, but we’re both adapting quite well to life without The Toddlers. Her fur grows fast and I’m afeared that after re-growth, she’ll quit burrowing deep into the covers with me.

We’re both glad to see this long, hot summer come to an end. It’s been a trial, but things are looking up. I can stay awake and Babette is getting lots of attention. It’s all good.

And just how trite can you get?

/ wvfurandroot / 10 Comments

Seneca Rocks

While on a road trip, my traveling companions and I stopped at the state park at the foot of Seneca Rocks primarily because I’d confessed I’d never been in this part of West Virginia. After being there, I’m ashamed. What kind of West Virginia ambassador am I if I neglect whole areas of the state?

It’s been years since I’ve managed to come up with a new adjective to describe the beauty of West Virginia. The area around Seneca Rocks had me struggling to find one. Amazing, jaw-dropping, gorgeous, yada yada. I hope to never become complacent about it even if my descriptions have to resort to the trite.

Seneca Rocks are FREAKIN’ AMAZING.

Mystery at Seneca Rocks

We didn’t have time to linger and were combining our need to pee with letting me get a good gander. While gandering in general, I gandered in particular at a tree the likes of which I’ve never seen before. The tree bore blossoms that in violation of state law I was provoked to pick so as to get a better look. (Yes, I’m hanging my head in shame.) I had to reach on tiptoe to grab a bottom limb of the tree and snatch a bloom.

I suspect, but am not sure, that this tree is what some folks refer to as a tulip poplar. A quick foray into Wikipedia confirms that suspicion. What I know for sure, is that I have to have one.  

We were headed for a work retreat in Hampshire County. I haven’t spent much time in that part of the state (shame on me) and driving from here to there on a fine May day was JAW DROPPING (another trite description).

It was a fine May day the first time I ever laid eyes on West Virginia. I have become a little complacent since that initial rubbernecking, but trips like these bring that initial wonder to the forefront again. On this particular trip, I was gifted with the sight of what I dubbed The Peony Farm – a substantial piece of earth covered in white peonies. In fact, the entire trip was punctuated by peonies. Besides the tulip tree, I’m determined to plant a peony hedge.

Purloined Tulip Poplar Blossom

Aside from tulip trees and peonies, the entire state seems to be dripping with wild rose and honeysuckle. The combined fragrance of West Virginia in bloom is AWESOME. (Sorry.)

Some folks talk about the first time they saw the ocean. Others the giant redwoods. Or the desert. Or…or…or. Seeing West Virginia the first time was a religious experience. I forget, oh yes I do, that lots of folks can’t drive down a road and see this or this. I’m telling you, it’s BEYOND BEAUTIFUL. (Oops.)

 [Now shifting gears with an awkward transition.]

I’ve been absent from this blog for awhile and a few of you have been kind enough to inquire. I’m fine, more or less. Way too much life happening, busy-busy-busy, yada yada yada. Y’all know – the same old drill. The same old “my life is a runaway train and I have to get a grip, yada yada yada.” [Tell me, what did we say before Seinfeld coined yada yada?]

I’ve been so busy that the house is a wreck, the garden is neglected, the puppies are lonely and I’ve been even more stressed than usual, but the trip, though busy and a stressor, also served to put me in one spot for a few days. The simple act of not scurrying here and there for a couple of days was restorative. Here’s to hoping the feeling of balance will endure for a bit. And if it does, perhaps my dalliance with trite expression will come to an end.