it to be almost 9 PM and still daylight amazes me, the sky was blue with pinkish mauve thin stringy clouds. The sun often has its last small rays shinning on a wheat colored field with everything else in the shade – the barn, the rusting farm equipment, the layer of trees out my window across the field – the pines behind assorted greens, the rolling hills, another layer of pines, another layer of rolling hills. All the while hearing the creek rushing by with waters fresh from the melting snow covered nearby mountains.
We had another cook out in the evening with the family. Mark and his wife, Gina, returned from 29 Palms. Martha’s other two sons, Dale and Tim, her daughter, Sandy and Sandy’s Tina – the 4-year-old terror (when she ate sweets.) I enjoyed sitting out side surrounded by the pine trees, just a pleasant temperature, a fire going and a great spread of food, including our first watermelon. Cody, a beautiful black longhaired herding dog, I found to be so sweet even thought Martha warned me she was crazy and might bite – not at all. She was a guard dog – the minute someone drove up, she was ready to attack. Apparently she especially did not like men in any kind of uniform. She would swim in the creek often, then she wanted to be very loving when very wet. I found her to be a sweet dog at all times.
Of course nothing is ever perfect: Martha could be annoying as a back seat driver – “go there – go here – turn –” etc. like I’ve never driven before! She talked incessantly about totally mundane things, so that I didn’t “hear” half her conversations. After loosing her husband of 50 years just two years ago, I assumed she needed to talk. The least I could do was let her and try to listen. She thought I was angry when I wasn’t. I endeavored to do what she said to do since I was her guest. It became quite difficult since she changed her thoughts rapidly. All in all, I believed we were getting along OK. Social life away from their farm consisted of a $2.50 lunch at the Senior Center. Martha is a woman in her late seventies with the enthusiasm of a teenager, she always seemed down to earth and I thought was a very bright woman. She was always the brain behind their businesses. Her husband and the two sons, Dale and Tim, worked for Tom and Martha. Dale was moody and cranky all of the time. In close proximity to me, his refusing to speak to me directly is so childish for a man in his fifties. What a handsome young man he was, very bright with so much potential but his years of smoking pot destroyed him. Tim would get off in Never-Never land talking to himself; yet, he is quite bright and could do most anything, except hold a job for more than a few weeks. It is like he is always in the right brain with no linear thinking. He had been helpful to me. He was a total loaner – totally self-involved. Both sons should have been doing far more to help Martha but each “does their own (selfish) thing” – Dale’s “thing” was to sit and watch TV all day – EVERY day! At least Tim would work occasionally. Martha had created this situation by holding all of them to her apron strings, except for Mark who had far more independence.
Sandy was darling and well into her thirties. She is divorced and has her own business in her basement. She works very hard each day. She does beautiful creative work. Martha has always been very creative with painting, hobbies and handy work. Sandy’s house was up for sale as she hopes to move out of state. Mark, the oldest son, divides hit time between overseas business ventures, 29 Palms and in Montana for part of the summers. He was the “man” around there and knew how to do just about everything. Mark has had an overseas manufacturing business for years. He is always very entrepreneurial. He was always the most successful and the strength of this family. Martha had always been very capable but without her husband and aging, she doesn’t have the management skills she used to have or just not the energy to create a workload for herself - maybe too much “let it happen” attitude. I understand operating on FAITH, as that is my code in life but I also have to make things happen and have faith that they WILL manifest. So that was my summer family – I appreciated each one for being who they are, even though I may not agree with the way they operate, I honor their right to BE who and what they chose to be as I was the guest. I knew each of them for many years and they had felt like a surrogate family for me.
I still had so much organizing to do in the motor home. It isn’t easy as there are never enough places to put things for full time living. One thing about RV living is if ONE thing is out of place, you have a mess. There always seems to be a lot of things out of place. My leg definitely slowed me down, as well as problems getting the sewer and water connected satisfactorily.
“Everything in its proper time.” With the help of Tim, I finally got connected. The propane service man filled my tank. The phone man finally came to check the layout, next day the phone was connected. I thought my phone would never get installed but finally on Friday, the outside connect was in, then I had to string a 100’ telephone wire into the RV. At last, a dial tone – however, since it was a Friday, I could not subscribe to the only one local Internet server until Monday. On top of that, I did not order a long distance service; therefore, I could not use my AOL, even on long distance or call anyone unless I called collect. Even that became complicated. Ahhh… it seemed my settling-in was finally coming about. My TV had only two very faded giggly stations.
To have my motor home neat with everything in place seems to be a constant “work in progress.” Each day, I sort through things trying to put as much of it as possible in the lower storage compartments. Still, every time I looked around, there was a stack of something else. I love my little portable home. I just wish I wasn’t such a pack rat with my “necessities.” Each time I used some food item, there was a bit of usable space. Oh well, I’m not in a metropolitan area, might as well get used to the simple life and inconveniences of “country” living. Another good thing about aging is that we usually learn to adapt to what is happening, otherwise, we can create illnesses with stress and worry.
I couldn’t wait to get out of the summer heat of the desert but never considered sitting in my motor home watching snowflakes fall in the middle of June! It was simply unbelievable! It had rained part of the day before and all nights, then raindrops were turning into large snowflakes, then hail. The idea of possibly having to turn off my water in June was unthinkable. It didn’t happen. The air felt like air conditioning, then the sun would be shinning brightly. I looked forward to the next few months of summer and getting my writing done.
At least, I was beginning to get my writing area in order. That was the reason for being in Montana. I planned, for the next four months, to totally commit myself to finishing some of the books I had started writing - one in the mid 1980s and several since. The one about my daughter’s disappearance was written in the 1970s and needs a lot of revision. By keeping my expenses down as low as possible, I needed to take the time to concentrate and focus on writing. Will I ever get published? Who knows! At least, if I finish all these writings, I won’t have to return in another life to finish them then!!
June 26th -- One year anniversary of the beginning of my last summer’s trip of 2001 with my “First Love” …
CHAPTER 6
THE SUMMER OF 2001
Last summer’s adventure was so exciting – a dream come true! First, I would like to tell you about my traveling companion. We had nine weeks of travel in the summer of 2001. I don’t know if it is common for us, as we age, to think about our first romance – our first falling in love. “Romance” in those days consisted of hand holding, an arm around the movie seat, an occasional kiss that might work up to passionate “necking” as it was called way back when. Romance or falling in love included heart pounding and zizzy feelings in the stomach. For several years I wondered what had happened to my first love.
Fickle from birth, I was! When my
