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The tumbleweeds blew across cotton fields... -- Photo by Pat Bean

The tumbleweeds blew across cotton fields… — Photo by Pat Bean

“On day one of the drive, I saw my first dome sky. The world was so flat that I could see the level horizon all around me and the sky looked like a dome. Skies like that will give you perspective when nothing else will. The second day, a tumbleweed blew across the interstate. I’m in a western movie, I said to myself, laughing.” — Kimberly Novosel

Tumbleweeds and Bilbo Baggins

By definition, a tumbleweed is any plant which habitually breaks away from its roots and is driven by the wind. If you’ve ever driven across West Texas, I’m sure you’ve seen them. This day, an army of them pursued me as I began my journey home.

and past oil rigs this Texas day. The lowest price I paid for gas on the trip, just fyi, was $1.84 a gallon. I never thought I would see gas so low ever again. It was up to $4 a gallon when I quit traveling full time. -- Photo by  Pat Bean

and past oil rigs this Texas day. The lowest price I paid for gas on the trip, just fyi, was $1.84 a gallon. I never thought I would see gas so low ever again. It was up to $4 a gallon when I quit traveling full time. — Photo by Pat Bean

When I left Lubbock at 9 a.m., it was a chilly 28 degrees with a wind speed of 30 mph, which made it hellishly cold when you factor in the wind chill. But no sooner had Pepper and I gotten warm and comfy in Cheyenne (my bright red car) when the tumbleweeds started to attack.

They mostly blew across Highway 82, but occasionally they put on a frontal attack. I missed most of them, but not all. One, however, was a monster. It was as if a two-story bush had yanked up its roots and decided it had wanderlust, like me.

Fortunately the wind, which was already blowing briskly, became gusty and yanked the giant tumbleweed off the road just before contact. Whew!

As Bilbo said, “It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to.”

Of course that’s the best thing in my book about being on the road.

“The Road goes ever on and on, Down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, And I must follow, if I can, Pursuing it with eager feet, Until it joins some larger way Where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say”         

Blog pick of the day. Check it out.

Blog pick of the day. Check it out.

   Bean Pat: Bobby’s Photo  Blog http://tinyurl.com/k3ffnrv Comet Lovejoy. I’ve long followed Bobby Harrison because of his birding photos, and that he was involved for a while in trying to find and photo an ivory-bill woodpecker, after it was thought not to be extinct. This night sky photo, meanwhile, speaks to my soul

 

On the Road in Texas

Junior this Christmas

Junior this Christmas

Me and Junior, my first grandchild, five years ago.

Me and Junior, my first great-grandchild, five years ago.

            “I dearly love the state of Texas, but I consider that a harmless perversion on my part, and discuss it only with consenting adults.” – Molly Ivins

Time for Memories

Cattle, cotton fields, small towns with boarded up buildings, oil rigs and northern mockingbirds, along with a few hawks, dominated the passing, brown winter landscape as I drove from Dallas to Lubbock yesterday. I realized the Sonoran Desert, where I now live, has more color than this part of Texas right now.

But it  was still a pleasant drive, well, once I left the traffic cacophony of the FortWorth-Dallas Metroplex. The area is more commonly called the DFW area, but I once worked for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, and the newspaper’s stylebook always put Fort Worth first.

Driving across Texas is almost always a time for reflection of earlier times and earlier trips that annually crisscrossed my life once I left the state for good. And so it was this day. But the best part of the day’s drive was when I could hug a granddaughter, grand-son-in-law, and most importantly a 5-year-old great-grandson.

It was one of the few times in my life when the destination was more important than the journey.

Bean Pat: Write to Done http://tinyurl.com/pnfkcgn Some writing blogs to check out

Albert Einstein Wisdom

“Whoever is careless with the truth in small matters cannot be trusted with important matters.

It's a road day for me. Pepper and I will be leaving Dallas soon for Lubbock, and a visit with my granddaughter and great-grandson.  Y'all have a good day. -- Photo by Pat Bean

It’s a road day for me. Pepper and I will be leaving Dallas soon for Lubbock, and a visit with my granddaughter and great-grandson. Y’all have a good day. — Photo by Pat Bean

He Believed in Truth

The difference between stupidity and genius is that genius has its limits.

            A person who never made a mistake never tried anything new.

            Ethical axioms are found and tested not very differently from the axioms of science. Truth is what stands the test of experience/

            I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.

            Imagination is more important than knowledge.

            The ideals which have lighted my way, and time after time have given me new courage to face life cheerfully, have been Kindness, Beauty and Truth.

            Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning.

            Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.

            Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves.          

Blog pick of the day. Check it out.

Blog pick of the day. Check it out.

  Bean Pat: The Day After http://tinyurl.com/nxxsp2o More good advice

The Chaos of Life

Shortly after the daily crisis in my life went away, I took up white-water rafting. I have to admit I loved the challenge of conquering the rapids.  I now wonder if this was a way of creating an artificial crisis?

Shortly after the daily crisis in my life went away, I took up white-water rafting. I have to admit I loved the challenge of conquering the rapids. I now wonder if this was a way of creating an artificial crisis?

            “There cannot be a crisis next week. My schedule is already full.” – Henry Kissinger

            ”Any idiot can face a crisis – it is day to day living that wears you out.” – Anton Chekhov

You Can’t Escape It

            I once made a comment, when my daily life required moving through a debris-filled landscape dotted with landmines,  that I knew I would be all right when the crisis was over.

“And what will you do when you have no more crisis in your life?” came the reply.

That comment, made 40 years ago, has stayed with me. Perhaps because a couple of years later, the daily calamities I had been facing went away. Overnight I found myself with holes in my days.

Sometimes it is easier, I realized, to have a crisis to face because they give purpose to your life. You have to be strong, and usually have no choices to make except what it takes to survive.

Isn’t life strange?

Thankfully, I found new purpose for my crisis-free days and the freed up hours; and now  a crisis in my life is a rare occurrence. But when one does pop up – and it does because this is life we are talking about – the crisis doesn’t freak me out as much as it did when I was younger.

That’s the silver lining the years bring.

Blog pick of the day.

Blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat: On a Dollop of Dali:  http://tinyurl.com/nfj2lh5 Fun quotes from a strange artist. I love ‘em.

Sense of Place

     “Life is short, break the rules. Forgive quickly, kiss slowly. Love truly. Laugh uncontrollably and never regret anything that makes you smile.” — Mark Twain

 

One of the highlights of my trip to Brazoria County on the Texas Gulf Coast,  where I lived for 15 years, is an opportunity to go birding with my son, Lewis. He is as avid a birder as I am. We always see great egrets on our outings. -- Photo by Pat Bean

One of the highlights of my trips to Brazoria County on the Texas Gulf Coast, where I lived for 15 years, is an opportunity to go birding with my son, Lewis. He is as avid a birder as I am, and we always see great egrets on our outings. — Photo by Pat Bean

Texas in my Soul

I arrived in Texas, my native landscape, on December 19, after leaving my current home in Tucson and traveling all the way across New Mexico. I spent the night in a two-star hotel in Van Horn before traveling on to visit a granddaughter and her husband in San Antonio.

On December 20, I drove to West Columbia, to my oldest son’s home where I celebrated Christmas with two sons, seven grandchildren, three spouses, and a brand new great-granddaughter. It’s a family of large personalities but all was peaceful – perhaps because everyone was enthralled with the sparkling personality and cheerful giggles of Savannah Kay, the youngest family member.

Sam Houston played a prominent roll in early Texas history, and so like most things in Texas, here he is -- larger than life. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Sam Houston played a prominent roll in early Texas history, and so like most things in Texas, here he is — larger than life. — Photo by Pat Bean

The day after Christmas I took the half-hour drive from West Columbia into Lake Jackson, where my middle son currently lives. The city’s moss-covered trees, winding streets and green-green landscape felt familiar, perhaps because I lived in Lake Jackson for 15 years, from 1956 to 1971, when I left Texas — and never permanently came back.

A few days and another road trip away, I celebrated New Year’s Eve in the suburbs of Dallas with my oldest daughter and her husband, a granddaughter and her partner, and a niece and her husband. Dallas is where I was born and lived for the first 16 years of my life.

I remember back when Dallas, the Big D, was Texas’ largest city. Now it’s only third having been surpassed by both Houston and San Antonio.  While the Texas landscape of cotton fields, oil rigs and live oak trees still feels like home whenever I see them, Dallas never again felt like home after John F, Kennedy was killed here.

I can’t help but wonder how much of who we are is tainted by where we lived, from our accents to our way of thinking. I think of Utah, where I lived for over 30 years, as a full-blooming flower in my life; Idaho, Nevada and now Arizona are the leaves of my plant-being,  varying in intensity and color like the seasons. Texas, however, contains my roots, the first glimmering of whom I would be and the catalyst of my personality.

But it’s the still the road itself that has always been the place I felt most at home. I was born, I believe, with wanderlust in my soul.

On Monday, I’ll be on the road again, although staying in Texas just a bit longer. I have one last Texas family member to visit, a granddaughter, along with her husband and my first great-grandchild, 5-year-old Junior. They live in Lubbock.

And then it’s back to Tucson, where I’m letting the desert creep into my being.          

Blog pick of the day.

Blog pick of the day.

  Bean Pat: Miss Pelican’s Perch http://tinyurl.com/nmv9zeh Looking at the world in a different way.

Soul Searching

“I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes. Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world.” – Neil Gaiman

A scene from my past: This pier is located on Chincoteague Island in Virginia, and I sat on it in 2006 and watched birds.  --  Photo by Pat Bean

A scene from my past: This pier is located on Chincoteague Island in Virginia, and I sat on it in 2006 and watched birds. — Photo by Pat Bean

I’ve Become a Non-Wandering Wanderer

I started this blog when I was traveling full-time with my canine companion, Maggie, in a small RV I called Gypsy Lee. I blogged mostly about the places I visited.

Today I live in a small, third-floor walk-up apartment in Tucson that sits in the shadow of the Catalina Mountains. I have a new canine companion, Pepper, a joyful Scottie mix who helped ease my grief when Maggie went to doggie heaven.

The Present: The view looking out over Tucson from my third-floor apartment. -- Photo by Pat Bean

The Present: The view looking out over Tucson from my third-floor apartment. — Photo by Pat Bean

My feet are still itchy for the road, but I’m finding new ways to scratch them by sight-seeing closer to home, traveling via books and photographs, and reflecting more deeply about the places I’ve been and the people I’ve met. The latter is a luxury of time gifted to me for having survived in this world for three-quarters of a century. I love being an old broad.

The things that I still have great passion for include writing, Mother Nature, birds, family, learning new things daily, books, art, travel and helping make this planet a more loving and peaceful world.  And these are the things I will be writing about in my blog in 2015.

I’m looking forward to the journey, and am thankful for readers who will be traveling with me. Life is good.

Bean Pat: Soul Writings http://tinyurl.com/q88ltoz The world would be a better place if everyone lived by these 10 rules.

New Year’s Resolutions

"May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds." -- Edward Abbey  -- Photo by Pat Bean

“May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.” — Edward Abbey — Photo by Pat Bean

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” – My grandmother, Mamie Truesdale

A Plan for 2015

My New Year’s resolutions are to start each day with a cup of good, cream-laced coffee, write in my daily journal, and plan my day.

May you keep your eyes open, and be appreciative to the little things like desert phlox, that  help make this planet so beautiful. That's my resolution for my readers in 2015. -- Photo by Pat Bean

May you keep your eyes open, and be appreciative to the little things like desert phlox, that help make this planet so beautiful. That’s my resolution for my readers in 2015. — Photo by Pat Bean

These are resolutions I finally think I can keep, unlike my usual January First list of goals in which I promised to write four hours a day, take a daily two-mile walk, don’t play computer games, do more art, and don’t forget any family members’ birthdays (my kids tell me I’m better at remembering where and when I first saw a bird species than their birthdays). These resolutions, however, are just the tip of the iceberg of the ones I made over the years – and broke before the first week in January was over.

This year’s resolution to plan my day was inspired by one of the 20 suggestions I came across in an article on how writers can be more productive. Reading it was an AHA moment for me. I suddenly realized that my days were always more productive when I started them with a plan, and especially when the list of tasks on it were prioritized.

Today’s plan included writing this blog as a first priority. I want to get back to daily blogging because I find it easier than writing one less frequently. But if I do miss a day or two in 2015, at least I won’t be breaking a New Year’s resolution.

So what are your New Year’s resolutions?

Bean Pat: Interesting Literature http://tinyurl.com/m7r2zpy Start the New Year off  with these “verified” writer quotes. As a former journalist of facts, I love it that this blog points out the inexact fluidity of the internet

            “In a nervous frenzy, I fling words as if flinging mud at a wall. Blurt out, heave out, babble out something – anything – as a first draft.” – John McPhee.

It could be a mistake wandering around beneath this flamboyant sunset in Kenya's Serengeti National Park. -- Photo by Pat Bean

It could be a mistake wandering around beneath this flamboyant sunset in Kenya’s Serengeti National Park. — Photo by Pat Bean

Thankfully, I’m a Writer

            Working on a deadline, sometimes of just minutes, occasionally meant that typos and even factual mistakes made it into the newspaper when I was a reporter. It was at those times that I used to comment that if I had made a mistake as a carpenter, my product could have been used as firewood instead of being exposed to thousands of readers.

If a lion focused on you, such a mistake could e deadly. Thankfully, typos are only embarrassing. -- Photo by Pat Bean

If a lion focused on you, such a mistake could e deadly. Thankfully, typos are only embarrassing. — Photo by Pat Bean

Recently, however, I came across a comment that made me look at mistakes from a different perspective. A blogger noted that she was thankful she was a writer instead of a brain surgeon because her mistakes weren’t deadly.  I guess the same could be said of an airline pilot, an explosives’ expert, or a snake charmer.

Even so, I still recall with embarrassment the first time I had to write a front-page correction. I was still a green-between-the-ears reporter, and had arrived late to a city council meeting. I’m normally a person who is always early, but back then I was a working mother with five children so I’m assuming I had a legitimate excuse.

Anyway, the next half hour after I arrived, the council members debated whether or not to give residents a 5 percent reduction for the cost of a particular city service. They finally agreed in the affirmative, and that was the big headline on my story the next day. Unbeknownst to me, however, was the fact that before I had arrived, the council members had already agreed on a 10 percent reduction, in addition to the additional 5 percent.

I think that was the biggest correction, thankfully, I ever had to write, as I became an avid adherent to the philosophy of double-checking facts, and then checking again.

But then I’ve made plenty of other mistakes that have been doozies, some even that could have been deadly. Don’t we all?

Bean Pat:  A thought to start your day http://tinyurl.com/of9dsgt I couldn’t agree more.

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For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return.” – Leonardo da Vinci

            “Don’t live the same life 75 ties and call it a life.” – Robin Sharma

The Smiley Creek airport with the scenic Sawtooth Mountains in the background.

The Smiley Creek airport with the scenic Sawtooth Mountains in the background.

Stephen Coonts Inspired Memories

            I’m addicted to travel books, and nothing pleases me more than finding one I haven’t read. So it was with quite a bit of delight that I came across suspense and thriller author Stephen Coonts’ book, “The Cannibal Queen.” I found it in the used book section of the Golden Goose Thrift Store in Catalina, Arizona, just 20 miles up the road on Highway 77 from my apartment. I felt as if I had found a golden egg.

The book’s subtitle “An Aerial Odyssey Across America” is the topic of Coonts’ book, which follows his plane travels with a teenage son in the summer of 1991. The Cannibal Queen is a rejuvenated 1942 Stearman open cockpit biplane. Coont’s tales of flying it reminded me off how much I love flying in small planes.

The Smiley Creek Lodge on a snowy winter day.

The Smiley Creek Lodge on a snowy winter day.

The first time was in a four sitter that took off on a sunny day from Logan, Utah, which took me and a music professor from Utah State University to Roosevelt, Utah, where he was to teach an extension class. I was along as a reporter doing a story on the professor.

The flight back to Logan that night was a windy, rainy one, and the professor clung to me for comfort. I was elated (by the adventure, not the professor), loving every moment of that wild, dark ride through the sky.

Another time, another story I was writing, found me buckled into a Pitts Special aerobatic biplane flown by an F-16 pilot who let me handle the controls for a couple of show-off rolls over Great Salt Lake. This was one of those bucket list check-offs that had my head spinning for days afterward. I was loving my life.

Looking toward the Sawtooths from the lodge on a sunny day.

Looking toward the Sawtooths from the lodge on a sunny day.

But the flight that Coonts’ stories most brought to mind was a more mild-mannered flight in the back seat of a four-sitter Cessna of a friend’s uncle who took me and his niece to lunch in Smiley Creek, Idaho. We took off from an airport in Twin Falls, Idaho, for the 125-mile or so flight, and landed on a grass runway across Highway 75 from the Smiley Creek Lodge. If I remember right, I had the lodge’s famous chili.

I think what made me remember this fine day was Coonts’ description of setting his plane down on a grass runway. I guess there are still several like the one in Smiley Creek that exist.  But the Sawtooth Mountains that provide the backdrop for the Smiley Creek primitive airport still make it the most scenic landing spot, I suspect.

Thanks Stephen for jogging my little gray cells back to this magical day.

Bean Pat: Janaline’s World http://tinyurl.com/nxsww4f Great armchair travel piece on Babylonstorem, a place I never knew existed before.

“The world is but a canvas to our imagination.” – Henry David Thoreau

The old cemetery at Tumacacori National Park south of  Tucson. Drawing by Pat Bean

The old cemetery at Tumacacori National Park south of Tucson. Drawing by Pat Bean

A Sketchy Morning

I recently joined the Sketchbook Artistry Guild and went on my first outing, which took place at Tumacacori National Park south of Tucson. It was the first time I had sketched outdoors in about 10 years. It was a glorious, beautiful day and a win-win-win for this non-wandering wanderer, who is always eager for new sights, learning something new and meeting new people.

The church at Tumacacori. -- Drawing by Pat Bean

The church at Tumacacori. — Drawing by Pat Bean

The ruins of the once Jesuit mission to bring Christianity to the O’odham Indians, who were often at war with the Apaches also located in Southern Arizona, spoke to me of a past riddled with men too sure they were right in their beliefs, hardships, struggles, community and survival. How little we have changed.

So I focused on the sketching possibilities of the ruins with its roofless bell tower, and the trees that created an artful composition in a small graveyard – and tried to capture their memories on paper. I sketched on sight, and then went home and added watercolor to the paintings.

Afterwards, eight of us went to Wisdom’s, a delightful restaurant with huge chicken statues in front, for lunch. The fish tacos I ate were yummy, and the table conversation delightful. What a great way to spend a day.

Blog pick of the day.

Blog pick of the day.

Bean Pat: Prairie flameleaf sumac http://tinyurl.com/mlbqfrc Great blog about flowers.