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The cell phone didn't work in this valley and we should inform our loved
ones (and boss) of our recent decision to linger. Jacqy is elected to drive
the truck to a mountain resort  "convenience" store down the road a few
miles. She called her husband who called her boss and my husband.

I stay in camp and keep an eye on the animules and decide to take some kind
of bath...a primative French Renoir-"Lady at her Toilette" type bath,
standing in Chelse's slop bucket, in the back of the trailer, in the now
practically deserted camp, with a view of the meadow and forest. Best bath I
ever had. The dirtier you are the better you feel even if you aren't the
cleanest. I was covered in Chelse's dust and my sweat, my hands were filthy
black, my nails were blacker, my hair felt un-familiar and I probably stank!
I know Jacqy did, but we were having a grand time. Again, I wondered what
the rich folks were doing now?  I poured sun warmed water over my head and
purred with pleasure.

I let Chelse out to explore the now, almost empty, large golden grassy
meadow and pasture leading down to the pond and locked gate. She milled
around pleasantly, sniffing and eating and checking back in at her camp
periodically, Only once did she venture outside the entrance and that was to
go to the watering hole and get a drink and come right back.

One other group stayed over on Sunday.  They had a mule with them that was
as stubborn as Chelse when they tried to get it to go out on the trail
alone. It twisted and turned and balked (just like Chelse)...and then trots
off ...  pretty as you please, (just like Chelse.) I saw myself when Chelse
gets... "other ideas," from a spectators point-of-view.  I felt somewhat
vindicated and somewhat embarrassed at the humorous aspects of this vision.

I talked mule-talk with Harold who has had mules for 30+ years. His wife
just did her first 50 miles ride on a horse. She "...doesn't care for
mules."  It takes all kinds.

We packed a little lunch and went out to explore the other end of the
pasture, with the pond. We lay on our backs on the grassy bank, in the sun
... watching fish jump, dragon flies flit and a black Phoebe swoop out ,
catch a bug and back to it's branch...over and over. A solitary coot swam
around calling its strange call. It's soo peaceful and quiet here, even if
there was a bear roaming around right up there in those trees yesterday.

We didn't start packing up camp until morning since we didn't need to leave
before 10, so we just enjoyed the evening.  Again, bats ecolocated. The Barn
Owl barked and the Great Horned owl whoed. And, somebody ate all the
mosquitos that should have been emanating from the little stream right
behind us.

In my cozy sleeping quarters in my trailer, by flashlight, I'm reading
Clinton's new book (I happened to be in Costco the day it came out...and
there it was.) I would vote for him for "Sexiest Man in America" from the
cover photo alone. I don't think Mick Jagger is sexy anymore. The book is
surprisingly interesting, Southern in style and attitude. A simple, but
brilliant man, with similar southern roots as I. More disadvantages.
Different circumstances. Different paths. A nerdy fat boy, picked on by
bullies learns important lessons dealing with adversity on the way to the
White House (handy social skills.) Skills we all need to get to where we are
each going.

He quoted Abraham Lincoln: "I'll get myself prepared and see how far I can
go..." (something like that.) That has always been my motto. He became
President, an impossible dream. How far can I get? Where do I want to go?
What will I endure to get there?  What does it matter? As long as the trip
is fun.


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