Forethoughts:

This is about 10 or 11 months late and as my dad, Thomas Ledyard Blakeman, used to say: "The further I go, the behinder I get". At least it felt that way though now I seem to be catching up. I have completed just about everything else that had to be done; referring to the IRS, DOR; RMV; my profession; a dead computer; major minor surgery; rotted & broken steps, windows, posts, trees; trimming the hedge; my wife, my daughters; not necessarily in that order (after taxes); some tasks actually requiring months of dedicated time (including taxes). I now feel that sense of immense relief that comes with having completed many things, some of which I did not really want to do, but am pleased with the results. I still need to get some quality time with my daughters, but I think I can begin to write now - about what occurred before all that.

That is, to write about what we did while at our place in Joshua Tree, California from December 30, 2005 to June 3, 2006. I used to be able to write this journal virtually as things were happening, not having to worry about remembering what happened and getting it right. I am amazed that I seem to be unable to do that anymore, especially as living conditions are generally improving there. What I attribute that to primarily is this: in 2002 we were living in our mini-van and at night it was relatively easy to reach down and plug the computer into the inverter, turn it on and type away. If the lights began to dim, I would start the engine to recharge the van's battery. Life was so simple then.

By 2005 we were living in the luxury of a renovated trailer with a real bed, water, heat and space to move around, but with no immediate source of electricity. Everything was powered by alternating batteries continuously being recharged by the inverter in the (now big) van. Whether running an extension cord out to the van or relying on the short life of the old notebook's battery, the power almost always gave out way too soon, perhaps in time to transfer pictures from the camera and handle a few other tasks, but before I had time to gather my thoughts and begin to type.

Also, in 2001 I could upload everything to my web site over my AT&T cell phone. By 2005 that no longer worked even though I paid extra for Cingular's "Data Connect" service. That meant running into town every afternoon just to handle the online requirements of my business and to weed out the excess photos from the Toshiba IP camera overlooking our driveway back East. Anytime it detects motion, it uploads 3 successive high resolution shots of the action, including the movement of tree branch shadows against a bright sun-lit or snow covered driveway, quickly overwhelming the storage space on my web site. When the allotted storage space fills up, everything to follow is rejected, including email. I discovered this the hard way, soon after we arrived. I emailed my web host, Lunarpages.com, about this and they were kind enough to give me another Gigabyte (1,000,000,000 bytes) of space gratis. That is about another 5000 or so high resolution shots. Surprisingly, even that can fill up with the bright windy winter days triggering the camera every minute or two. It brought me another few days of breathing space before I would begin to get nervous and head into town to devote another four hours or so waiting for the hundreds of small remote images to become visible, selecting the 99% or so of (hopefully) useless shots and pressing the Delete key. I found that I was getting little time or inclination for anything else on the computer, until Eileen returned East on March 1 and unplugged the camera.

Now I have to remember what we were doing back then, day to day, thinking and feeling. I do have pictures, all 1500+, a few emails, and even a check register (well, debit register - I write maybe 15 checks in one year; love it). It is almost fascinating leafing through an old register, each check entry sparking a small memory; the small memories adding up to a surprising and totally forgotten recollection. For instance, the entries for January 17 tell me that we had the van serviced at the Yucca Valley Chrysler and ordered a remote control for the locks. While waiting, we had a snack at Jerry's Restaurant across the street. That is enough to remind me that we took a long pleasant walk down a street running beside a golf course behind Yucca Valley. From experience, I know that within the next few hours, I will probably develop a more detailed memory of that day. The memories are vague right now, but they are there, and the fog will probably clear in awhile. :)

That was at 9:30 AM. It is now 10:20. It is election day and I have just returned from voting - with a chocolate cake that I felt duty bound to purchase from the PTA while there - only to help them out, of course. Anyhow, on reflection, I think that on that visit to the dealer, we just waited in the restaurant across the street. The register shows that we returned on February 6th to pick up the remote control and have the van's computer programmed to unlock its doors when the button gets pushed. That takes awhile, so we took a stroll down the highway, Route 62. After awhile, we turned down a side street and walked to a plumbing outfit that installs septic systems and therefore has some enormous piles of dirt taking up most of their parking lot. I had seen their ad in the Pennysaver and had been meaning to look them up. I purchased 14 tons of dirt from them which was delivered to my place the next day. We then continued along the side road to where we turned left onto Martinez Trail, a long back road that borders the Blue Skies Country Club golf course, which we followed back to come in behind the Chrysler place. All that from a check register.

It also shows that in between the two dates, we visited Eileen's son in Tempe, AZ on the 21st and stayed two days. The date was entered into the register when we purchased maps and water at the Osco Drug store in Tempe. There is more on this further down, with pictures.

On the 6th, before we drove to Yucca, we went the opposite direction on Route 62 to the Marine Corps town of 29 Palms where I registered the van at the DMV and paid a sales tax on my former eBay purchase. The tax was paid with a credit card, which could be another source of memory tweaks, if needed. I know we were there because the register shows that we purchased ice cream next door in a convenience store.

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It is four days later now as I type this. Actually most of the typing has been done, links to relevant web sites have been inserted and I was working on pictures when I got to one of the van showing a temporary sticker on the rear window. Something didn't fit; I stared at it awhile. Then it came back to me: we had made two trips to the DMV. To issue a new title they need the old seller's title. I had a copy because I had scanned it into my computer, but a copy would not do. They issued a temporary sticker and we went home. That was on the 29th.

Normally, when I leave the Cape, I bring selected folders from my file cabinet with me; anything I might possibly need. I forgot them, one of which contained the title that the seller had mailed to me. I called our new tenant on the cell and arranged for him find it and mail it. When the title arrived on February 6 we returned to the DMV, completed the registration and were given a real sticker. That is when we got the ice cream.

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We then drove back through Joshua Tree and on into Yucca. Oh yes, we did stop at a supermarket in 29 so that Eileen could get a few things; I remember sitting in the van seemingly forever watching everybody else enter and leave the store. Now, that may have been on the 29th - whatever.

I could expand on this three week stretch even more and perhaps tell quite a story, and I'm sure all this discussion of the workings of my memory fascinate you to tears, but I am going to stop here; I want to begin at the beginning. BTW, it has always worked that way; nothing to do with age.

At 4:00 on Monday afternoon, December 26 we picked up the AVIS car. It was raining. We did not get the car that I had measured; instead we were given a brand new Pontiac Vibe. Molly's cage fit nicely into the rear seat along with a few other things. Everything else went into the hatchback compartment. We departed at about 7:30 in the morning, two hours later then planned, and stopped in Mystic at about 10:00 for breakfast. We got our first fill-up around noon in Nyack, NY, about 230 miles from home, near the Tappanzee Bridge which spans the Hudson River north of NYC. For me, it was a comfortable ride west, though Eileen felt that it was a little tight. That's odd because with my long legs it is usually the other way around; in her Jeep Wrangler, I feel almost claustrophobic.

The trip west was fairly uneventful, which is good. We took the mid-states route as planned, coming down the Oklahoma Turnpike to meet up with our old friend, Route 40. The OK route was not OK. If I recall correctly, it was a rough road, with tolls, and no visible place to stop for coffee or even breakfast at that time of the morning. Receipts show us staying the night in Tulsa, paying tolls at 6:21 and 6:31, and paying for breakfast at a Waffle House near Oklahoma City at 9:27. I usually shun the suspect motel coffee, expecting to find a service station nearby to get my coffee, which is surprisingly usually pretty good, and then hit the road for awhile so that I can feel like I'm underway. I would have wanted to get out of Tulsa before the traffic anyhow and then stop at the first place where it looks like we can get a good breakfast. If I recall, none of that came together. That is a distance of 120 miles, or oh-my-god 2+ hours without coffee. I usually like to watch for a Denny's because I can rely on a good breakfast and their being open early. I see by a Google map that there are 7 Denny's in Tulsa, 9 in Oklahoma City and none between.

The balance of the trip went well. I want to mention one especially nice place where we stayed on our final and least expensive night of the trip: The Canyon Motel, 1900 E. Rodeo Rd in Williams, AZ - a stretch of the original Route 66 that I-40 replaced. An hour and a half earlier, we had passed through Flagstaff, AZ high in the The Coconino mountains. We got off at the Williams exit because signs indicated a selection of motels. We pulled into the first motel, a standard variety chain motel, and pulled right out again after asking the price. We then came upon a sign that you could easily miss if you weren't paying attention. I swung down into a winding gravel drive and followed it until we came to the Office sign. It was pitch black dark and mountain cold.

I was immediately struck by the pleasant and warm atmosphere with its Christmas tree and a fire in the fireplace. A lovely young lady appeared and soon her husband, both friendly and welcoming. My guess, an ex-model and linebacker who had made enough to buy their dream, but I did not ask. I was surprised at the low price and yes they welcome pets. I handed her my card. She handed me a key and a bag of goodies that would later delight Eileen: natural shampoos, snacks and etc.. A short path between small terraced gardens led us to an old stone cabin beneath tall Ponderosa pines.

Compared to the office, the interior was nothing special, but it was clean and it was warm. They had mentioned that a remodeling was planned. Eileen went straight for the shower. I took Molly out back but she did not accomplish much. I returned her to the cabin. The day was done; I settled into the car to sit awhile with a beer and a smoke. Then I noticed Eileen beckoning from the cabin door. I entered to see an array of dog piles on the closet floor. Thankfully they were hard and dry as I scooped them up, so it wasn't as bad as I had feared. I returned to the office and humbly asked for cleaning supplies. After completing that task, I wearily returned to the car to resume relaxing. By the time I finished my beer and returned to the cabin, Eileen and Molly (in her cage) were fast asleep. Our bed was comfortable and it felt good.

As we pulled away shortly after daybreak and a shower, we could see a community of cabins and converted railroad cars tranquilly wandering up into the hillside. We drove down through the small town to find coffee and tea. The town was still asleep but fully adorned with a frosty Christmas cheer. With hot beverages in hand, we headed back through town to I-40. It was a pleasant two and a half hour descent down into the warming desert to Kingman, AZ and The Iron Skillet for breakfast.

After crossing the Colorado River into Needles, California, we would normally turn south onto the hilly scenic 56 mile hairpin of historic Highway 95 down to the above mentioned Route 62 to Vidal Junction and then west 102 miles through Twentynine Palms and into Joshua Tree. However, this time, we continued straight on I-40 to eventually wend out way down into the common car return lot at the Burbank Airport, arriving about 3:30 on Friday, December 30. We were 3111 miles from the Hyannis Airport. There the sellers met us and handed over the keys as we transferred Molly and our stuff into our new vehicle. I paid the $534 AVIS bill and we departed.

We drove east on I-10 and then north and east on Route 62 up the hill through Morongo Valley, Yucca Valley and into Joshua Tree. It was late so we checked into the Hi Desert Motel for the night. This where we had stayed on our first visit in 2001 (after 30 years). Of course, we went out to our place to take a look, and it looked good, then back into town where we enjoyed a quiet dinner at The Crossroads Cafe (the original, which sold a few years later) and then back to the motel and to bed.