General

Cocoa—A fine companion cat

Cocoa is a fabulous RagDoll cat who lives at home in Virginia and sometimes on the road with Charles Messer and his wife as they migrate to and fro from western Virginia to Orlando, Florida each year following the warm weather. Cocoa is bigger than Minna, my Shih Tzu, in appearance anyway probably out weighs her by 5 lbs. Her fluffy coat is a thing to behold. Cocoa loves to travel especially in the family RV where she sits up on the dashboard taking in the view and the warm rays of the sun. As I understand it, Cocoa is four years of age and loves to snuggle. Charles says: ” I never feed her anything but her kibble, no table food ever. Cocoa is fine with that and remains the healthiest cat I’ve ever had.”

Such a regal animal. Seems to have great wisdom as well.

Another really nice attribute of traveling is meeting other pet owners who dote on their animals too. There was a couple in Edisto that had two Pit Bulls. They had everyone wondering when they started fencing in their campsite. Well they turned out to be very well behaved (the owners and their dogs) and it was fun to see those guys hanging out windows of the family Hummer as they drove through the park.

RagDoll cats are very large, stunning cats with beautiful plush coats that are medium long with a super- soft bunny-coat feeling to the touch.  The RagDoll cat is a spectacular cat in everything from its stunning appearance and crystal blue eyes to its gentle docile snuggly personality making it irresistible to any animal lover.
I am not advocating that you run out and buy a RagDoll cat but there are a lot reasons to choose this breed if you are in the market. There are some disadvantages to long hair cats and dogs—in the land of the fleas, here in the south, fleas are a big nuisance spread by squirrels, rabbits and other hairy critters and everyone I talk with seems to find K9 Advantix and Interceptor as the most effective flea treatments.

"Kool cat," says Minna

RagDolls are extremely affectionate, gentle cats that constantly crave companionship.  They love to be held and adored like craddling a baby.  RagDolls are quite docile, don’t have the natural fears that other cat breeds are prone toward, so they very quickly bond with children, dogs, and other types of pets. If you are too busy to snuggle, then the family dog is going to get a new snuggle buddy

RagDolls require almost no grooming and do an excellent job of bathing and grooming their silky coat by themselves.  RagDoll cats have very little undercoat and, because of this, shed very little and very rarely mat or have hair-balls.  Even though not required, RagDoll cats do love to be brushed and this is a great bonding ritual with their owners.  In addition, Ragdolls have very little dander and are considered to be hypoallergenic. Is this a non allergic cat?  Well, we certainly can say, it is at least a hypo-allergenic cat, producing much less of a chance of allergic reaction, most of the time in people who are “super allergic” to cats!

In you face at 3 a.m.?

The RagDoll cat breed was created in 1963 by Ann Baker.  Ms. Baker used a combination of longhaired domestic male cats along with Josephine, a white domestic longhair that had an extremely gentle, loving, and docile personality.  All RagDolls are descended from Josephine.  RagDolls became registrable in the core registries starting in 1993 and were able to start competing for champion status starting in 2000.  Though a relatively new breed RagDolls are quickly becoming the preferred breed and are considered one of the best overall cats owned for owner companionship.

Warmest Wishes to You this Holiday Season.

This is the little tree, only 14 inches tall, that graces my trailer. It is small but bursting with Christmas love. Joey made the left Santa, The crochet Teddy Bear is from Maui, the right Santa is from my editor Kate. The Rocking horse is from Boston, the little teddy is from Susan. The Christmas star I made myself from bits of metallic and some hot glue…….. It expresses the love I have received from my friends and family over the years, it carries the Christmas message of hope I send to you on this Christmas Holiday.

Bill Ahearn

(To the Eagles: Take It Easy)
Well, I’m a runnin’ down the Road
In Ickesburg, Pennsylvania…
And such a fine sight to see
It’s a Model A Ford—OH MY LORD!
A sparklin’ ’31 two-door Ford with
a .030 bored 327 Chebby engine—
wrapped in red, bright as can be!

Norman Maxton and his prize 1931 Model A Ford

Norman Maxton loves his 31 Ford. Norman is a partner in a accounting firm in nearby Bloomfield, PA. He polishes
and fusses over every detail. He shows it all around at car shows and has won dozens of awards.

But you know, just sittin’ up behind that fold-up windshield, runnin down the road with that much power underfoot is a trip. Brings me back to my high school years in the famous days of American Graffiti. Days when only cars and girls mattered (sometimes not even cars). Wonderful days when the music and the times were achanging but everyone appreciated a classic car.

This roadster is so red hot you are almost afraid to touch it!

Norman took me for a ride around Ickesburg. His neighbors saw us and waved right away— “Here comes Norman and his bright red beauty!”  WHAT A FINE SIGHT TO SEE!

Specifications:
1931 FORD MODEL A SEDAN
327 Chevrolet Engine Bored over .030
350 Chevrolet Turbo Transmission
Vintage Air
Walker Radiator
Vega Steering Unit
2″ Chopped Top
Top Filled From 1969 Dodge Station Wagon
1979 Chevrolet Truck Fleet Red Paint

The shape of a coach, precision pinstriping, loving detailing. Introducing Norman Maxton's hot red 1931 Ford .

Untitled—Christopher Hollis

My new friends, Holly and Chris, a young couple traveling in Florida during a college break attempting to avoid the northern cold spells, happened in, late at night, to the campsite beside me at Huguenot Memorial County Park in Jacksonville last week. My little dog, Minna, and I, were returning from our evening walk before bedtime—we offered a quick hello and welcome—then scooted off to bed.

Holly is a Psychology major at school and Chris is on a one semester break hoping to find his life path. Chris has multiple creative talents. The art work pictured above came from his sketchbook. He was working on it when we first chatted.

The next morning I noticed him hard at work, seated at his picnic table intensely concentrating on his large book. I went about my camp chores making breakfast for Minna and myself. Boiling some water for tea, pouring a steaming cup, when I thought: that young student hasn’t the good sense to make himself a hot something…. or maybe he hasn’t brought along anything to make…. or perhaps he is waiting for his companion to arise. Soon, on impulse, I popped over and handed him a cuppa tea saying he looked like he could use it. He smiled widely in surprise, graciously thanking me as I backed away and went back to my chores.

Huguenot Beach overlooking Mayport Naval Air Station

Castaway jellyfish on the river shore.

Later I observed Holly had joined Chris at the table so I brought her some tea as well. She was very pretty for a person who just crawled out of a tent, her youth bubbling out of her demeanor and her kindness was evident in a lovely smile. We chatted for a moment or two then I went back to minding my own business. In a little while the two of them came over to return the cups. We complimented the sky, the shorebirds and the gentle soft breeze through the palms.  They asked what I knew about the campground, having come in after dark. I told them a few of the quick highlights especially of the view from the high dunes at the far end of the point. Cautioned them about the incredible amount of broken glass in the dunes tossed by uncaring beer drinkers and the dead or dying jelly fish at the water’s edge.

I then asked, “Do you folks like oatmeal? “Oh yes!” they chimed in unison.
“Done.” said I as I added more oatmeal, raisins, cinnamon and chopped apples to my pot on the built-in two burner gas stove in Luciee’s tailgate kitchenette. “Sit, it will be ready momentarily.”

So began our morning which embraced a two, or maybe three, hour conversation; the two of them starting their lives and I starting my trip. Amazingly we had much in common; they being uncertain about what the future might bring, much as I felt myself. They were not worried as much as perplexed by the enormity of life’s decisions. Trying their best to make sound judgments and wise use of their time. Holly has not yet decided what she will do with her degree; she is multi-lingual and hopes to apply that in her work, while Chris is uncertain of which way to focus his many creative skills. He showed me his sketch book and I was very impressed. He also plays some really serious guitar.

One thing was certain they both seemed driven to make a meaningful contribution to the world with all its ills, to help make it a better place. So there we were, the older traveler with the younger travelers, serendipitously following the omens of life as they spontaneously occur minute by hour by day after day. We spoke of life’s uncertainty in those few hours; there was a kinship I felt in our simultaneous journeys. It seemed to me we were all three on the same playing field though, surprisingly as I am much older than either of them, but there seemed to be no age barrier. It was very refreshing. Their good sense and lively energy was inspiring. They held no great prejudices about anything or anyone but seemed open to ideas and willing to blend their experiences with those of other folks in an effort to find a good path. To find success in following our dreams.

To paraphrase Paulo Coelbo outlined in The Alchemist:

“We all need to be aware of our personal calling. What is a personal calling? It is God’s blessing, it is the path that God chose for you here on Earth. Whenever we do something that fills us with enthusiasm, we are following our legend. However, we don’t all have the courage to follow our dream.

“Why?

“We are told from childhood onward that everything we want to do is impossible.

“If we have the courage to disinter our dream, we are then faced by the second obstacle: love. We know what we want to do, but are afraid of hurting those around us by abandoning everything in order to pursue our dream.

“I ask myself: are defeats necessary?

“Well, necessary or not, they happen. When we first begin fighting for our dream, we have no experience and make mistakes. The secret of life, though, is to fall seven times and to get up eight times.

“So, why is it so important to live our personal calling if we are only going to suffer more than other people?

“Because, once we have overcome the defeats—and we always do—we are filled by a greater sense of euphoria and confidence. In the silence of our hearts, we know that we are proving ourselves worthy of the miracle of life.

“Having disinterred our dream, having used the power of love to nurture it and spent many years living with the scars, we suddenly notice what we always wanted is there,waiting for us, perhaps the very next day. Then comes the fourth obstacle: the fear of realizing the dream for which we have fought all our lives.

“Oscar Wilde said: “Each man kills the thing he loves.” And it’s true. The mere possibility of getting what we want fills the soul of an ordinary person with guilt. We look around at all those who have failed to get what they want and feel that we do not deserve to get what we want either. We forget about all the obstacles we overcame, all the suffering we endured, all the things we had to give up in order to get this far. I have known a lot of people who, when their personal calling was within their grasp, went on to commit a series of stupid mistakes and never reached their goal—when it was only a step away.”

Later in the day, after dark, Chris and Holly returned from their daylight adventures and sat by my campfire: she playing the bongo drum and he his guitar as the the flames rose and sparkles flew into the night I could see in them my renewed hope for the future. Smart young people with concerns about life’s journey, willing to meet the future head on. Hoping to discover in the practical effort of life the positive contributions they can make to the human condition. Not a bad formula for young folks and old.

One good turn deserves another even with perfect strangers.

Most people you meet are really helpful and kind, or want to be, especially people that enjoy camping. Some will go to great lengths to help you if they believe in what you are doing or if they see the tragedy or danger of your plight. Generosity can be easy for some people but kindness comes easy for many. Kindness also can be expressed as concern for someone’s or some thing’s welfare.

I was hiking in the woods the other day and found along the trail the mostly stripped skeleton of a dead opossum. What journey brought this little dead animal under my toe? Was it fate? Happenstance? A hunter who didn’t finish the hunt? The opossom’s journey is sadly over, but my heart still feels compassion or empathy for its fate.

Edisto Beach Camp Ground hazy full moon - March 1, 2010

Once in California while photographing a live oak from under its low boughs—looking upward toward the sky—down on one knee I heard a peculiar noise. A soft sort of “flup” sound, again and then again. I looked around but saw nothing. Continuing my work it happened again—remarkably then again. Looking down at the dried fallen leaves I observed nearby a little woven lid opening and closing, about the size of a slice of lemon. Someone or some thing was peeking at me from beneath the dead leaves. Closer observation revealed that it was a tarantula in its cocoon-like nest. No. Wait a minute, there was more than one…  uh…gulp several…a colony of more than 20 flupping lids I think. Frankly I didn’t take time for an accurate count.

My heart leapt into my throat…..  aw crap… I am kneeling in the middle of a colony of tarantulas with tripod and camera gear in short pants and hiking boots. Shades of Indiana Jones! I was able to escape unscathed but not without gaining a much greater respect for the territory of others on which I might carelessly tread. A lesson I apply in some small way each day of my life. People offer a smile at someone who is smiling, Tarantulas are a forgiving lot and I thank them for the kindness of not biting me… instead just offering a friendly “flup” to announce their presence.

When there is high water in Edisto everyone seeks high ground

The traveling part of my journey physically began in January, 2010 but the planning and preparation part began months earlier. There are many, many people who encouraged me with acts of kindness and words of support. There were a few who kindly contributed by donating some money or a needed service.

If I begin naming names I would surely, unintentionally, leave some people out because there have already been so many. I don’t want this post to sound like an academy awards speech because I really haven’t done anything yet except to ambitiously stand up and face the future with hope, a sense of adventure and a clear recognition of the limits of longevity in any life.

I would however like to share with you from time to time some stories that have given me inspiration. The people who helped, and are still helping me with this blog have been a godsend. I am a church-mouse in the the cathedral of the internet and they have helped me find my way around. They already know, or should, how greatly I appreciate their unrelenting support and bull whipping as needed.

Of course also there was the fine couple from Oklahoma who helped me when I cut my hand. For days they were there helping out with Minna and the suffering, unwillingly left-handed patient.

Here in Edisto I mentioned to a fellow camper in passing that I couldn’t figure out the battery hook-up system for my trailer. I had the parts but not the technical adeptness to make it work. Within a few hours a kindly, if a bit grumpy stranger, ambled onto my campsite declaring his commitment to give a neighbor a hand. He was about five or ten minutes into the explanation when he realized he was looking at a deer in headlights.

Sunset over the wide marsh from the beach.

“Aw, shit” said he, “I’ll be back in a while”. So it began. A four day unrelenting effort to make my Luciee road worthy in so many ways I have forgotten some. Faulty wiring, propane gas leaks, fuses, electric brakes, interior lights, battery charging options, electrical hook-ups and on it went. Every time I turned around he was under or inside or yelling for tools or calculating grounds: positive and negative current and my ineptitude.

In the end, he announced it was done, as if it might be the seventh day of his creation. Humbly I thanked him.
“What can I do to repay you” I whispered.

“Once,” he said, ” a long while ago a man helped me just for the joy of doing it. I am helping you in repayment of that debt. It is up to you to find someone you can help and repay this debt.”

John, my greatest thanks to you and your dear patient wife.

I finish this post with one final word of thanks to a young, kindly Brian at KMart in Charleston. You are an inspiration to me, thank you.