Sep 26, 2015
Listening to Nora Jones sing, Why Can’t He Be You, part of her Patsy Cline tribute. Probably no coincidence that it was the first song to come up, when I looked at the blank screen to write about my day, which would not rank at the top. I am referring to the mood of...
Sep 25, 2015
You’ll never guess where I am at this very moment, which would be Thursday evening a little after eight. Get ready; I am sitting at a picnic table, right next to the tent Michael and I, mostly Michael, set up at the state park in Detroit. Other than a beautiful moon,...
Sep 24, 2015
I must be in heaven; at least that’s how it feels right now. I am in warm, little #2 cottage at the Bend-Sunriver RV Campground. This is my second attempt at writing tonight. When I checked in, I was told there was WiFi available in the “family room.” First, I rode...
Sep 23, 2015
Let’s see, where were we when we spoke last? I was signing off from Susanville, falling asleep in between sentences. It’s funny, each day is so full and even though I skipped one day of writing, it seems like a week since I have written. Actually, I had to write my...
Sep 21, 2015
When you have been riding a motorcycle for at least six hours in stifling heat, often going at least 80 mph and then come to a sudden stop at a Super 8, you are still flying, like an astronaut hurling through space, abruptly falling to earth. Now, that is how my day...
