“Friends are god’s way of apologizing for relatives.”
~ Hugh Kingsmill
“Dogs are god’s way of apologizing for friends.”
~Unknown
I could easily just say “See last week’s message.” I’ve continued to live in lazy bliss, in an isolated spot with near-perfect weather. If life never gets any better than this, I’d be OK with that. The good thing is that I suspect life will often be even better. Or maybe just the ability to move to other locations and therefore new and different kinds of bliss make it seem even better.
Sometimes I sit and think, and other times I just sit. Cosmo doesn’t allow me to indulge in laziness too long before he decides it’s time to play, and he let’s me know it. I never refuse him a good game of fetch.
How could I ever say “no” to a face like that?
Thursday morning I packed up and moved to Barbara and Lark’s driveway. I spent much of the afternoon trying to solve my grey water tank problem. There is a tank below the floor that holds the water that comes out of my sink drain. It wouldn’t empty before I left Bloody Basin Road, and in trying to figure it out, I pulled out the drain hose (Like a dryer vent hose) and it was so dry rotted it came apart, the wires in the hose turning into a giant slinky. My gauge read full but when I pulled the valve to empty it, only a trickle of grey sludge came out. Not good. If I couldn’t get it to drain, it would eventually back up and come out of the floor drain (my indoor shower drain.) I tried many things, and it is a long and complex (and not very interesting) story, but in the end, I put baking soda and vinegar down the sink drain, followed by boiling water and the now open pipe spurted out two mushroom-colored “jelly fish” (slime balls) and the half gallon of boiling water followed. The tank now read empty, even though it had read full (16 gallons) the night before. I flushed it with Barbara and Lark’s garden hose and it ran clear after a gallon or two and the gauge read empty once again. Not sure what happened, but suspect the “jelly fish” were somehow clogging something and causing a false reading on the gauge. All’s well that ends well, although I will have to get the drain hose replaced. I’m hoping it is a pretty standard part that I can pick up or get installed at a nearby RV repair place. I spent several hours clearing things out of the front of my van (passenger seat was full of stuff I thought I needed but didn’t have a place for). I made a pile to go to the thrift store and threw out the rest. I did a couple loads of laundry while Barbara and Lark took their dog Molly to the groomer and settled into my stay in The Empire.
I washed the dust off my bike and table and chair. It is amazing how dirty things get in the desert. I made enchiladas for us for dinner, and afterwards we all played Scrabble as we usually do every night when I stay here. I was in bed by 10:00 as I was just beat from the cleaning and repairs.
Lessons From The Road: I had visitors this week while staying off Bloody Basin Road. A fellow nomad (Matty) I’d been chatting with online texted that he was passing nearby and asked if he could visit. He stopped by with his dog and we sat inside my van and chatted for an hour or so. He was quite nice, currently living in his Chevy Trax (car) with his dog Homer. Despite his being half my age, we seemed to have so much in common. He went off to L.A. to see his sister, but I suspect our paths will cross before summer is over.
I also had Patsy pull in on her side by side (Off-road vehicle. Think of a gas-powered golf cart). Patsy is a cattle rancher who lives up the road about a mile beyond the spot where I stay. I met her last year when she stopped by to check on me in the extreme heat. She said she often saw me outside, but since she hadn’t seen me out for a couple of days and since the sun was blistering, she felt the need to stop and make sure I was OK. She’s about my age and lives alone too, so I guess she understands how important it is to check in on us old folk. Anyway, I was so glad to see her again and catch up a bit. She told me there were many stories about “Bloody Basin” most centered around tales of Indian massacres that were so bloody they stained the rocks red. If you’ve ever seen the movie “Resurrection” she reminds me of the last scene when Ellen Burstyn is an old lady running a gas station. She just puts off that nurturing, down home, hard-working vibe.
When friends ask if I ever get lonely, I often say “Never. I have many 20-minute relationships on the road.” It sounds like a joke, but it is absolutely true. I spoke with Patsy briefly while staying here on my way north last spring and again this trip. We’ve known each other less than an hour in total, but somehow, there is a bond—two old people enjoying life and a beautiful spot on earth. Same with my visit with Matty. Similar lives. Similar beliefs. Kindred spirits. It’s nice to enjoy another’s company and hope we will reconnect at some point, but enjoying the present for what it is.