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The octopus. How long have these winsome and powerful creatures captured our attention but how little most of us really know about their history, intellect and very specialized abilities?  The last few months have produced many books and sources of research, it seems to be the Year of the Octopus. to learn more, refer to the following books on the topic;

The Soul of an Octopus by Sy Montgomery. Octopuses are intelligent and aware, but how much of that is centrally located in their “brain?” Is it possible that they have a “distributed mind” with each arm having a mind of its own?:
go to https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/#inbox/15bae5e7864daeb5

Another book about the incredible Octopus;  Other Minds
The Octopus, The Sea and the Deep Origins of Consciousness by Peter Godfrey-Smith
The author is an academic philosopher and a diver. Read what he has learned about the great and fascinating species we call the Octopus. They have 3 hearts, the 8 arms each powered to special skills and so much more.
–Search for the book by title or author.

Don’t have time to read the books? Go to the candy store site about books covering everything and anything that is fascinating   Delanceyplace.com and sign on to receive their email messages. Because of
time, I pick some to read and delete others of diminished interest to me. 
That does not happen often.

Cutie pie Clipart special!

A thought, If you have you seen the film ARRIVALS, I truly believe that the writer(s) chose to design their aliens with some of the attributes noted in the research surrounding the Octopus. How many times do we wish we had more arms attached?

Early one sunny morning, I drove north on california HWY 79 reputed for its mountain-terrain serpentine nature. As I rounded one of the many curves and there was a man, walking, slowly, purposefully but with a male version of a Mona Lisa smile on his face, eyes in a narrow squint against the golden glare, seemingly lost in his deep thoughts.  He was somewhat slumped, hunching over a bit but not surprising as he bore the weight of a blue/green mass of fabric spread across his upper body. I would call it a bed roll, but it probably encased his worldly possessions . He moved along pensively, carefully, along the opposite edge of the road.  The encounter was brief, as I passed him by. Being curious, I tried to take notice of his features, his clothing and facial expression while staying focussed on the quirks of staying on the curving road.

I pondered his situation for awhile, how long and how far had he traveled? Did he have a destination? Is he a stranger to this area or is this area familiar to him, a hangout? Where is he from, how long has he been a “hobo” traversing pathways in remote terrain in mountains and plains, along beach shores, cities, towns, suburbs, farm lands, forests? Where does he spend most of his time. Does he find food, does he sleep anywhere he may be at dusk.  Where is he going, is he alone in the world? I soon reached my destination and became focussed on many other things, not giving him any more thought. 

Come late afternoon I drove south on HWY 79 returning home. Surprisingly, I spotted him one more time, again on the opposite side of the road, walking northward, towards the town of Temecula. He maintained the same pace and attitude, but lost the squint and glare. Hopefully he had a destination that would give him some shelter from the frigid mountain temperatures with some nourishment to keep him going. What is in that bedroll?  He reminding me of the mighty Atlas holding the world, in this case his own private wooly world. Again, upon reaching home and our rig, I became engrossed in other matters at hand, lucky to be warm, with good company, able to anticipate food in plenty, sharing talk and our day’s adventures with my husband. There was no more time to conjecture about the man that night. 

Two days later, I returned to town, for an appointment and several errands to pursue. As I turned into a large parking lot (featuring a Sprout’s Market, several restaurants, shops and a Walmart-a site for dumpster diving perhaps), I’ll be darned if I did not see him walking toward me, with his usual burden, his gentle pace and his colorful and heavy wool bedroll. This time, I could take in more of his features, get a closer look. I formed a new concept of a the man–a man with wings, an angel of sorts. What would he possibly make of that vision if he knew?  

A very rough sketch of my angel man

Would I have another sighting or are 3 sightings the magic number. Perhaps he is always on the move, never staying put, always moving on. How much of the area, the state, the country, the hemisphere has he covered? Has he climbed high mountains, through dense forests, marshy, soggy farm fields, places of danger, snake filled lands, encountered wild animals, gone places into which most of us would not venture, unknown territory.  Do people talk to him, help him, become rude, nasty or belligerent? Does he beg for food or money or just keep his eyes straight ahead does he have living family members, know anyone here or there?  

 He was clothed in well worn brown pants, plain shoes, not sneakers, not sandals, not hiking boots, but well worn, somewhat shapeless shoes, moccasin-like. The expression on his face, remained rather sweet in a way, not sour, angry and somewhat aware not a vacant stare or tuned out. Does his face truly express his thoughts, his mood?  If so, what was he thinking, feeling, hoping or expecting.  All of us have had encounters with homeless people through the years. It feels good when I can help someone with an offering of food, or occasionally buying food for them, reaching out to them, saddened by their fate, but helpless to relieve their burden. Who knows if I will ever see him again?

I have learned of a project started in some cities and towns where neighbors have built storage boxes in strategic areas to be stocked with food, clothing, shoes, blankets, toiletries and more. The homeless learn that the items are theirs for the taking to use and share with others and to spread the word. How I long to be part of that project, but we live on the move, unable to fully participate. Perhaps, someday, down the road I take, an opportunity will arise so that I can give more than an occasional take-home box of food (always stocked with utensils and napkins or apples and a couple of PBJ sandwiches carried in my tote bag), a kind word or two and a smile. I can choose to contribute to legitimate homeless programs and shelters More than that is not now in my power. 

 Diane Rehm has been one of my highly revered heroins.  I have been her devoted fan for years tuning into the Diane Rehm NPR radio news talk show, privy to her public and private thoughts, her knowledge, wisdom and incredible talent as a thorough and persistent interviewer. How many hours were spent researching each topic or interviewee (staff aided I am sure, but Diane always in charge.) I bring up her name because I have just finished reading her autobiography, On My Own. 

As Diane appears on the cover of her book, Photographer Matt McClain

Rallys (RV) are always incredibly busy, fully packed and end too fast. We took off for the Escapade (Escapees RV Membership Club event) in Pima County Fairgrounds near Tuscon then set up a day and 1/2 before the official event began..and then it was over; we had “hit the ground running” and never stopped. Then whoosh it was over and we were on the road again. 

We attended many informative seminars about computers, mapping software with Geeks on tour, RV related topics, a fun travel session covering weird, the un ordinary and over the top places to visit. We did visit one right near our desert campsite called Spiral Labyrinth, a huge, perfect stone and sand spiral done by a California artist. 

Not a small earthwork

The Spiral Labyrinth

We volunteered, staffed the Jojoba Hills RV SKP park booth (proudly wearing our vests made by Nancy and two other industrious and talented sewers), line danced, shopped, met “old” friends and met new people too many wonderful people to count. We celebrated constantly with the joy of life and community, but top notch was the 90th birthday party of the founder Kay Peterson. We all miss her Joe, husband and partner in this creative RV club. She laughed and smiled and hugged all of the well wishers and took a basket full of birthday cards home to open at leisure. 
Their children have taken over and run the popular RV group with ease, love and open minds to changing times. 

Younger families, some young enough to travel with their children are a large segment of the club these days, bringing their youth, ideas and smiles to all of us older members. What is also as striking about this RV community is the caring, eagerness and joy of volunteering or just lending a hand at every chance there is. A Volunteer sign up booth for help during the Escapade always has a long line. The slots are filled easily with a “waiting list” is case subs are needed. Paul and I signed up to drive the golf cart shuttles for an evening event. We showed up at the appointed hour, but, alas, there were not enough carts to go to all on the list. 

Never fear, we helped in many other ways, unofficially and impromptu but fulfilled our sense of caring and help that way.  The same spirit is ever present among the members of our campground, Jojoba Hills RV SKP park in Southern California nestled under the Palomar Mountains. How glorious is the sense that in these times of strife and violence, good people reign. It should only last forever. 

I now own a large Yamaha keyboard (professional and beyond my talents), but what fun to play. 

Yes that is me with earphones to protect the innocent!

It’s home is in the shed on our site. It will stay here, too big to cart in the RV. But, we are spending so much more time in California (who would have guessed that a few years ago.) 
So hello from our sunny state, and happy tunes and trails to all of you.
Ann Carol

Yes, the last few weeks my obsessions have been focused on the crumbling of our great country in the hands of the so called president but in actuality, dictator, demagogue and egomaniac of the highest order and his flock of officers. I need a break, hopefully you do as well. On this day of the Women’s March, A Day Without Women showing our influence on the fabric of this country of ours I offer a diversion in the world of nature.

Years ago we visited The Museum of the Brazos http://www.brazosvalleymuseum.org/ A memorable venue if you have not been there. I am remembering this after reading an article and hearing a podcast focussed on the Northern Male Cardinal, the bird of reknown for it’s vivid red color and fetching behavioral patterns. It was at the Brazos that we first witnessed this behavior at length and have now witnessed many times since. 

I offer a generalized quote from the article;

The  glorious Cardinal found in the wild

I hope to be writing more posts this week and thank you for all of your feedback. I am keeping this short and hopefully sweet as I promise in message in a Minute and I hope your day is filled with sunshine, smiles, bird song and peace. 
Ann Carol 

It isn’t my usual style but I am offering a link to ZenZoneForum.com as below offering the wisdom of the cow. Some levity I hope for you as we try to determine where this country is headed. 

http://www.zenzoneforum.com/threads/18089-2-cows-explain-all-political-amp-economic-isms

Our group, 38 strong, mounted a tour bus, donning our golden hats sporting our group name–The Progressive Senior Patriots, men and women from Jojoba Hills in southern California. We arrived in San Diego well before the start of the Women’s Walk on Washington (and incredibly throughout the free world). We anticipated the walk in the San Diego, CA which surpassed the expectations to about 40,000 strong.

Hat and flag

YELLOW HAT with group name

Arrival in San Diego

We named our group The Progressive Senior Patriots to truly reflect who we are, all over 55 and experienced through the decades at protesting with purpose, with calm and without violence. Why do some protest groups spoil the efforts by engaging in bad language, breaking glass or further damaging property. Why revert to violence? It does not solve a thing.

There was not a hint of violence or of dissent in San Diego or world wide for that matter. We are united to retain our rights, to protect our national integrity and very democracy of our nation, to stop bigotry and torture and making certain this earthly home will last a long time to come. But, we need to keep up the spirit. We cannot stop with one protest. Long held American Values must survive.

signs galore

Our pleas for justice, for sanity and well thought out policies need to be nurtured and supported by constantly writing letters to congress and senate members, governors, local politicians and to policy makers, employers, governing agencies to keep the ball in the air for a future of hope.










The pre walk speeches were strong, heart felt, deeply motivated and encouraging. As we started the actual march, the sun gave way to a gentle rain.

BIG W FOR WOMEN

 But we were all prepared, just as we are prepared to stand up for a future of sanity and good choices, for our rights and to maintain a belief that our country can overcome adversity, dictatorship, demagoguery, despotism, false promises and lies. Hand written on our hats was the word SENIORS. 

The yellow hats, the name of our group and our appearance showing experience and purpose must have shown as brightly as the golden sunshine that smiled upon us as we neared the end of the march route(s). There were so many more marchers than anticipated that several routes were added to the end point at the wharf lined with cruise ships and yells and cheers of joy at the travelers on board watched us fulfill our purpose and expressing their joy at being there as witnesses. 

PINK HATS

So many marchers of all ages, sizes, colors and with great warmth greeted us the whole morning long. They alluded to our “senior status” with applause and wonder. Startling to many of us because inside we think we are 40 or 50 somethings, when indeed we are 60-70-or 80 something. Healthy and active because of the good medical care we thrive on and have enjoyed for 8 years.  We know there are flaws in every policy that rules our lives, but sensible changes need to be just that, sensible but to a good end for us and our children and grandchildren.

Another pleasure was our interaction with the youngsters we spoke to or spoke to us first, some being in their 30′ and 40’s and asking why we still march. The common answer is we have been protesting for DECADES and know how and what works. We are teachers for you. They thanked us for that. We also responded to youngsters–be they 3 years old, 6, 10, 12, 16, 18 or in their twenties, boys and girls alike. Many thanked us for being role models for teaching them the way and nurturing their participation. 

Cruise ship interaction

In response to the march, supporters of the new regime emphasis that on inauguration day, 1/20/2017, Gas was priced at an average of $2.86 more or less per gallon, The dow was at 19,819, NasDaq at 5560.7, Unemployment  4.7. These remain good numbers riding on the shoulders of the obama regime and not the new regime at all.  presently reservoirs are filling in drought ridden California,   The average salary to date for U. S. median class households averaged from about $42,000 and more. Health care has helped many folks obtain coverage where they have had no coverage for years before Obama’s plan. Many of these are Trump supporters. I have hopes for national enlightenment, for unity, for bipartisanship, for sensible and good policy changes, addressing a positive future for America reflecting our deeply seated values that have stood us in great stead for centuries. Let’s continue to KEEP AMERICA GREAT.