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My desire to blog has suffered greatly during this pandemic, I have tried to write so many times and it all sounded trite, the same as the editorial writers and interviewees on zoom were saying; they could not get their thoughts together either. Perhaps more of that in another blog. We are headed east to Rochester, our home town and our wonderful downtown apartment after spending close to 6 months on our California, Jojoba Hills SKP RV resort in Aguanga, CA. It is a tiny town nestled in the high desert Palomar mountain range. What a wonderful few months it was, delving into the life in a volunteer, caring and loving community. We stopped for 5 days to visit our son, daughter in law and two wonderful grandsons on their beautiful farm called Cheval Noir,- (yes, they have 2 beautiful black horses) from a hardy old breed dating back to the 1500’s. But, heading to Rochester for us is another joy. We will see our grandson, a student at the U of R,  friends from decades ago and some more recent acquaintances, catch up with the rich cultural scene and perhaps do some traveling after our trip to Boston this coming weekend for a long awaited  Bat Mitzvah. Paul has shared his blog with details of our trip from the RV POV, cost of fuel, and other logistics. We have had no problem finding overnight campsites and have has some good adventures in that realm. We still enjoy our nomadic life and seeing the beauty of this country and the people we meet. Be well all. Some photos to share; Dan’s tractor, Malena’s horse Tivoli, and the spring garden.

In listening to the latest Podcast from a favorite site called Unorthodox found at Tabletmag.com  (nothing to do with the TV series but well worth checking out.)  The podcast introduces wonderful people from every belief system and walk through life).  In this week’s Podcast, the podcasters turned to their intern and with her Christian background recorded her story. She “confessed” that she indeed believed in Santa until age 11. Her friends would tease her, her parents giggle at her, but she remained steadfast and finally let go as she got older and perhaps wiser; but admitting the fact has been very hard for her and questioning still lingers in her head. 

I took time to think about my own beliefs, real or false and my acceptance of the realities.

I believed as a very young child, that babies were indeed delivered by the proverbial stork, that my mom also told me were found in a planter. She also told me that they came from love. I latched onto this answer and the magic that it offered. I soon learned about the real world with lots of help from friends and some from my parents. They were reticent and I was very naïve. 

Trekking west and following a favorite route as we do not believe in taking a major expressway like the 10 across the Southwest or anywhere.  Our route of choice is the 90, down in the bottom Texas, accessing the road from San Antonio, where we spent an evening on the Riverwalk and captured one of the many tour boats. 

The joys of RVing are the surprises and the ability to make spur of the moment changes in our route. We drove from San Antonio toward Sanderson, planning to stop overnight in a rest stop (tried and true many years ago.) As we pulled into the stop, another coach that we had played do-si- do with on the road, came in entering from the other entrance), so our doors faced each other. We met between coaches and talked and talked with Bob and his gorgeous Cockatoo, appropriately named Glacier whose one word is Hello!!  What a great time we had. We exchanged stories then entered our coaches for diner.

The next day we continued west driving though our favorite towns; Alpine, Marfa and Valentine awaiting our arrival at the skid marks on the road. Why Skid marks you may ask? because in the middle of nowhere there is a Prada Store, yes a Prada store with vintage shoes and purses displayed in their glory. As the sign explains this is an art installation and we have enjoyed it for all of the years of its existence.  If one is not forewarned, the skid marks are self explanatory. Our trip west is as usual jam packed full and delightful, I just wanted to share a slice of life on the road. 

We have finally arrived in Virginia to camp on our son-and daughter-in-laws beautiful farm for 10 glorious days together and with our grandsons, when they were at home. We spent time with the horses and walking the grounds. The weather is miraculously warm and dry.

Needing to shop in town, I found myself standing in an aisle in a Charlottesville, VA grocery store, fully masked with shopping list on the phone, in front of the spice display. They are displayed of course, alphabetically. The list said, “cinnamon.” So I scanned the display, my eyes rising and rising to the jars beginning with A, B and C, at the tip top of the display, the highest level.

The trials of being short; I can’t reach things easily and rely on step stools, metal reachers and a husband who can reach to a reasonable height. My walking steps are shorter than most of our friends, so I have to hustle to keep up. I need cushions to sit on chairs, for comfort and to avoid having my chin hit the table almost like a child who can barely reach the plate. I have trouble with high bars in the closets, mirrors hung too high to apply makeup and see what I am doing and more complaints. I suppose there are advantages, I can be in front rows in chorales, photographs and other group alignments. However I forever hold on to the adage I picked up in an Irish Park, quoting the words of a friendly looking, ceramic green frog, upon being asked, “how come you are so short?” responded with, “I am as big as I need to be.” I have blogged about this in the past but the problem becomes more intense as the years fly on by and I have used this phrase endlessly. Back to aisle 10 and my dilemma.

The spice jar seemed to be 10’ above my head. With no step stool in site as they had disappeared from the grocery store aisles years ago-liability issues I am sure. I felt the frustration. Not a soul was in site, neither clerk or customer. The store was not busy. I wandered a couple of aisles away looking for someone, anyone, no one to be seen, I returned to Aisle 10, still empty of people.

Finally, a lovely woman came down the isle, tall and friendly looking. I asked if she would reach the jar for me and indeed she did. After a big thank you, we talked for a bit. She is from the area, raises her kids, works nearby in the caretaking field. I shared my gratitude for her work and we shared our joy in watching Charlottesville grow and blossom from the days even before our son and daughter in law moved here. We did sadly recall the agony brought to this town during 2017 insurrection in downtown Charlottesville, leading to many injuries and deaths and that horrible time in our lives. Ironically, the trial surrounding that case begins this week. We can hope for justice and hold our breaths to that end. We needed to get back to our shopping lists so we did elbow bumps and both agreed it was fun to have met. Once again, another opportunity to meet a wonderful person that happens by chance and luck.

We have moved on to Charlotte, NC where we are meeting wonderful friends in a long overdue reunion and are camped in a beautiful campground, the McDowell Nature Reserves smack in the middle of a woods, with sites that are long enough for 2 large motor homes and leveling challenged. (although we were able to magically get perfectly level at the tip top of our site.) Our reunion was a great success but is a long story. It has come to pass that we will be “stuck” in Charlotte for a week or so to await a repair before heading onward. It means postponing all of our plans. This is a good place to be “stranded” and we can meet our dear friends The Rainwaters for two more dinners together. That is a treat!

Raise your hands all of you that had a (photographic darkroom) in your home. I had 2 home versions over the years; in the 70’s and  80’s mine was located in the basement of our home on Sandringham Road in Brighton, a suburb of Rochester, NY, our home town. It was necessary for me to load the 35 mm and 120 mm film canisters sitting in complete darkness (testing to make sure there were no light leaks) sitting under the shirts, skirts and suits in the closet off the master bedroom.  The darkroom was in a long, narrow small space in the basement. I had running water in a sturdy sink that Paul and our then brother-in-law coated with special (smelly) waterproof materials and installed. In the 90’s we moved to a townhouse where my glorious darkroom/studio was located in the basement with a lighting studio on the top floor of our townhouse. I could safely load the canisters in the complete darkness in that space and engage in alternative photo processes. My studio had a workbench full of the chemistry I needed to make my own developing solutions. It was a happy space with a radio to listen to NPR news, classical radio, Karl Haas, (go to https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karl_Haas to learn about this genius. It is a fact that cross country truck drivers were faithful to his programs,) the St. Paul Chamber orchestra (https://www.thespco.org/), the Cleveland City Club Forum https://clevelandhistorical.org/items/show/26 , to name a few as well as 8mm tapes/later DVD’s of my favorite artists and pieces. I taught several friends and youngsters the basics of photography and printing in that space. 

Having been raised as an “orchestra Brat” my dad Herman Rudin played viola in the Rochester Philharmonic orchestra. (he told me that he had a darkroom in the 1940’s and 50’s in our house at 31 Edgerton street in Rochester). 

So it happened that in September, 2008, the year an economic pandemic plunged our country and indeed the world into economic turmoil, I closed my darkroom and made the video of my goodbye. I had moved on to the digital world that had captured the world of image-making.  It is in the year 2021, year 2 of the unforeseen Covid pandemic, that I rediscovered my Swansong piece. It is low key, spontaneous and heartfelt. The original sound track “featured” the furnace sounds located next to the entrance to the darkroom. Thanks to my talented and skilled grandson Josh Goldberg and a new soundtrack, you hear a viola piece in memory of my father’s chosen instrument. The sounds reflect the nuances of sadness and change that was the purpose of the video. (credit; The Dvorak Slavonic Dance in E minor from the DVD The London Viola sound featuring the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields, Conducted by Jeffrey Simon, Recorded 1995, Gala Records Ltd).

I am finally back to blogging after a long hiatus. More about that in another post. I still welcome your feedback and comments. The link to the video is below;

Carol’s Swansong Video

Motorhoming has been our life for 21 years. Travel such as this involves finding a campground for the night when no specific destinations are entered into the GPS because we often have no destination. We like to travel “loose” not knowing what  brown sign will turn us north or south, east or west to visit a site such as Dorothy’s House (Liberal Kansas) http://www.dorothyshouse.com/ or Caverns of  Sonora (Texas).

Over decades, campground searches have been refined, discount programs offered and a growth of opportunities have been developed and we have jumped on board. Now we can camp on an individual’s site such as found in Boondockerswelcome. com or on a farm or other  business site such as on HarvestHosts.com. Our last 3 nights have offered us a trio of these personal and up close campsites, opportunities to meet folks that we would never have encountered otherwise and learn about their lives, livelihoods and gather a taste of their way of life. 

We chose a site discovered on the Boondockers welcome site, a farm in Elm Creek, NE. Our host was Chad and his Grandfather Ringo joined us. Another rig was already in the yard and we were told that a 3rd rig would join us. Ringo invited us to tour his big barn to see a vintage car that made Paul’s eyes roll in envy.

I enjoyed the farmer’s fields, the horse, the views and the soybean field and met and interacted with our neighbors. We had not met others on a boondock situation before, always being solo visitors. We soon became acquainted and non of us minded the train tracks nearby with an average or 60 trains a day (down from 200 pre pandemic.) 

The next night we camped in Pattawattamie County Park in the town of Avoca, IA. There were many rigs there already and I recognized our neighbor, we had met at the Escapade rally.

How about this bird apartment across from our site and the free library open for business as well.

The third night, to complete the trio, we boondocked on the site of a business called BundutecUSA.

They are in the business of manufacturing truck campers for your pick up truck and have an interesting story branching out from a company in Africa to the town of Raymond, IA, a town of 777 friendly people. 

We are now tucked into a campsite along the lake near Madison, WI– lake Mendota to enjoy a visit with our cousin Mimi. We do have many neighbors here even though it is a quiet night mid week. It is quiet, cooling off a bit and certainly, three is not always a crowd. 

“Phishing,” the veggie kind, not for eating. Our websites were victims of this viscous hacking trying to steal our ID and life’s work. It does not feel good. Paul worked with our son Dan, a computer security GURU with his own company called Castlerock Cyber Sec LLC at https://www.castlerockcybersecurityllc.com/

He fixed it and it works.  So I posted a blog and so many of you received a notice that the site was not working. I sent a second message that if you click through the message the site will open with no harmful effects. Sadly, it took a few days to really get itself updated and so it went, now the site is working and we are grateful. 

But, I am left feeling bereft and wonder what hackers gain from these endeavors (surely they do find victims) and how, as security experts seem to cover all bad acts quickly with newer and newer blocking techniques, it still happens.  There are many online sites and publications concerning how to recognize possible scams, phishing messages and blocking techniques. Being aware and careful is the key. If a message seems a bit off base or contains an email or texts from friends that seem unlikely to have written by them, DELETE it. Contact them to make sure they know about a possible hack. I know this is not news to most of you, I am venting. 

Here is a quote from The July 12th New York Times about work by the FCC to apply new technology under development to control hacks and scams. 

“The latest effort by the Federal Communications Commission — the government agency that regulates communications — to cut down on the calls uses a technology called Stir/Shaken, which went into effect on June 30. While it has nothing to do with James Bond and martinis, it is meant to add to the arsenal of defenses against “bad guys” who trick people.”

Stirring and Shaking may work in our favor, but maintaining awareness of techniques to avert problems in your mailbox or text is a big step. 

According to our travel journals, in 2008 we stopped overnight in Florence CO, near the Royal Gorge area in the cool and rainy month of April. We spoke of wishing to return in warmer weather. After a visit in Grand Junction and Buena Vista, we drove to Florence. Paul’s campground search led us to a brand new RV park where we reserved 2 nights (adding 3 more nights in the end). The name is High Garden RV Park in Florence, Colorado on Moore Ave, not far from the historic district of town. the URL; https://www.campendium.com/high-gardens-rv-park. It sits on top of a knoll with a “big Sky panoramic view; pivot to view Pike’s Peak  and more mountains  in the distance.  The big sky goes from all blue to storm clouds over the mountains in the matter of minutes, often at mid afternoon as the dark skies drop rain somewhere and only once during our stay. 

Tahmra, (an incredible  woman) is the owner, creator, developer and builder of this brand new Campground. Her dream began over 5 years ago as she researched and drew up her plans for a user friendly site design with full hookups, 50 amp electric and sizeable spaces. She drives the Bobcat moving dirt into place to lay the groundwork for future sites and to plant trees and some flowers in raised stone beds. She has help, her assistant Bev (also an incredible woman) is a mom of 4 children. We were greeted by two of her granddaughters soon to be 8 and 2 and adorable.  The two women met while Bev was work camping and very unhappy in that job. Tahmra lured her away to work as her assistant at High Garden, a happy place.

Joe is also on staff and another gem. I met Joe just as we were setting up. He came by to position the artificial turf (as used on NFL football fields) under our steps. He is easy going with a knack for appearing at the right moment to help and giving advice on what to see with a big smile. Ask him about his motor cycle days. 

Why visit Florence, Colorado? For our purposes, it was on the way to the Escapade (an Escapees rally) in Mid July 2021 in Rock Springs, Wyoming and appealed because it is a small town compared to Canon City or Colorado Springs and offered a new campground secluded from but only 2-3 blocks to town. We strive to support new facilities.  It is a Good Sam park.

Lots to do; The Royal Gorge is 45 minutes away, a beautiful area, a popular tourist area but that is the point. You can choose rafting, zip lining, ATV rides, Jeep rides, walk across the pedestrian bridge (it was too darn hot that day), take a train ride, ride biking trails, jog on the river walk, drive the skyline drive, visit nearby parks, take in the Dinosaur museum, Museum of Colorado Prisons, the Florence Pioneer Museum, buy tickets in Florence, Canon City or Colorado Springs for live theatre, music, choose from many restaurants, visit the Indian craft shops, and enjoy a Helicopter tour which was our choice. Phew, maybe a 2 week stay is best. The 14 minutes Heli ride was beautiful and well narrated by our pilot, Jessica. We met the founder of the Heli business a delightful Vietnam Vet, full of  stories about the helicopters he flew.

Sadly, in 2013, a massive fire destroyed everything in the area. It has been rebuilt with some work still ongoing. Here is an URL for more info on the area; https://royalgorgeregion.com/.  For non RVers or family reunions, there are luxury cabins, inns and lodges available or elect to stay in a yurt or pitch a tent. BTW, we have enjoyed the stay here and added 3 more nights. 

Continuing our trek easterly, we departed Fernley, NV along route 50, a neat town to visit much to our surprise. Route 50 is known as the “loneliest Highway in America” and indeed it is such. The road is wild, steep, curvy and with shockingly beautiful scenery. seeing some vehicles on the way. We continued toward Austin and Bob Scott’s Boondocking Campground just beyond at 7200 Feet above sea level,

arriving at 1:30 to be assured of a choice of sites. No worries on that score however, in what had been sunny and clear weather we drove through thunder storms and rain on the way. As we turned the key to off to seek a site, we were “hailed” upon bombarded by sleet, hail and heavy rain.    

We paused for lunch awaiting the storm to abate. Paul ventured out into the wet to seek a suitable site(site 4 for a 36′ foot MH with tow worked well, if you want to venture there. $5.00 a night.) We set up the rig then drove in the Jeep to the town of Austin nestled in the hills.

The road to Stokes Castle is near the gas station. The tower is all that is left. Mr. Stokes built the castle in 1897 in the likes of an Italian Villa and in the Victorian style manor with 3 floors, plumbing of the times, lighting, and all of the luxuries of the day. They family stayed a year and then he sold his mining, railroad and banking ventures and moved away. The castle was sold several times including to a Knudson family. It now belongs to a local resident. Back we went to the rig to find 3-4 neighbors. What a delightful day it was for us.

The article (see URL below) caught my interest enough to devote a good deal of time reading the New York Times article of June 18, 2021 by Dwight Garner and Parul Sehgal, both celebrated book critics for the New York Times. I was taken by the method of presentation of their critique and the research and detail they provide in analyzing the poem under the Times section heading close read.

The poem was written in 1976, at age 60, over a period of 2 weeks. Visuals show the nature of Bishop’s handwritten poetry and edits distorting and changing the pages, honing her ideas dealing with loss, changes of feeling, from straight on to a warmth of words and meaning–lost; a pair of cities, two rivers, a continent. With the word you, she is addressing the reader. We learn much about Bishops life, losses and love life. 

Then we are introduced to the style of poetry called Villanelle, formal and structured. I hope you enjoy some part of or all of the article. I will read and re-read some of Elizabeth Bishop’s works. 

URL  https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2021/06/18/books/elizabeth-bishop-one-art-poem.html