The Dark Days of Winter

                                I haven't been doing much that's blog worthy for the past week, hence the radio silence. In the meantime, plans are brewing. The house purchase moves along, but I won't bore you with the details.  Anyone who's ever bought a house probably gets the anxiety and rushing around. But I want to acknowledge the stage crew--the friends who have helped make this dream a reality by offering their hospitality and encouragement.  My friend and former OHSU colleague Kristie and her husband Mike opened their home to me 2 years ago, and then again this year.  They live in a house that has breathtaking mountains cropping out of their backyard.  They've shown me around, loaned me their car, looked at real estate, hiked with me and generally made me want to live here.   Likewise, my friend Kathleen, whom I knew from Cannon Beach, decided to make this area her new h...

As the manic fervor of house purchasing continues, I am trying to balance all that with some of the reasons I came here in the first place. The Sonoran desert continues to entice me.  In the mornings, I try to walk or bike in my friend's neighborhood, hoping to see critters roaming in the early light of day.  I've seen mule deer, coyotes and even a bobcat foraging in the wash behind the house.  The open sky is magical at sunrise and sunset. Its beauty is contrasted by its harshness.  Only the toughest can survive. And so, to feel relevant as a retiree, I seek out the most vulnerable humans. Having been changed by my experiences in Africa, I got to thinking there’s plenty of social justice activism that can be done right here in America. Although it’s controversial, I decided to help out at the border again. However, even though I'd volunteered before with Casa Alitas, the refugee center for asylum seekers, they’ve gotten much more stringent with their screening proce...

I have been avoiding the next entry for fear that people will write me off as a victim of sunstroke. And although I don't really need to justify my actions to anyone, I am going to do so anyway. So forgive the mea culpas of this posting, but it helps me process what I have done... After 4 days of camping at the frigid but sunny Tucson campground, I arrived at my friend Kathy's house and said to her, "This time I'm not going to do what I did 2 years ago here.  I'm not going to spend all my time driving around looking at 50 different houses to possibly buy.  I'm going to explore the community, do some volunteering at the border and have some fun."  My dream of having a second home in the desert had been shelved, and enough time had passed that I didn't think I'd exhume that notion.  But real estate listings insidiously worm their way into my emails and I can't help going down those rabbit holes once in a while.  Some people waste time playing vid...

If you’ve ever felt stuck in the mud about your life, there’s nothing a good road trip to get you unmired. Or even a bad road trip. In gaining another perspective, you realize what matters most. Even if pressing that reset button only brings up more questions, the road is good mental floss. The morning call of the cactus wren, the orange sunset over purple mountains, the coyote slinking through the campground, even the mineral taste of hard desert water—all of these sensory experiences make their mark on my watery NW self. Though visiting my sister in Morro Bay was quite nice for me and Savanna, it’s good to be back in the desert. Family time is important; long talks and even some spats sweetened the long drive down to Tucson but now Savanna has left and my soul is pacing, saying “OK what next?” Revisiting some sites I enjoyed 2 years ago, I’m still wondering if a desert home is in my future.  What is it about change and novelty that shakes me up and clears my head? A different kin...

Ten days after winter solstice, I packed up the Nomad Moon and hightailed it away from the dark and rainy Oregon coast. Like a pioneer in search of a better life, I drove my covered wagon into the valley of the promised land. After picking up Savanna in Portland, we headed south on New Year’s Eve, a day I usually vow never to drive anywhere. In spite of  ominous disaster scenarios of drunk drivers plowing into us, or freezing rain or snow on the windy mountain passes of the southern Oregon Siskiyous, we made it to our first campground in Ashland. There we settled in for the night over dinner and a bottle of champagne, and though we didn’t make it to midnight, we did celebrate our many blessings. Namely, Savanna’s graduation from nursing school and passing the boards, my recovery from hip replacement, the life changing trip to Kenya and so much more. So armed with all the confidence that none of my fears came to pass, we relaxed, thinking Day 2 would be an easy 4-5 hour drive to Vac...