Hot and dry but something special as Jen climbs quickly and high.
Views are outstanding in desert setting.
Reminds us of scenes at Piute Pass, near Bishop, California
We mentioned a few weeks ago that we try to retain the integrity of the blog, whenever it suits us…we mean,
at all times. It behooves us to relate a trio of incidents that occurred on the road, providing the editor
approves. Apparently, she does. Earlier in the month, while the French were at the Bastille, we were
increasing our age by another year, something that seems to occur annually. In fact, lately the years seem
even shorter. Soon after this anniversary, we suffered a communication problem between various parts of the
body and mind.
Jen takes a break as she catches her breath from an up-draught.
Taking the gap at 'Monkey-face' Rock. Notice rock climber sitting in mouth of rock.
It’s no surprise to anyone that we travel quite a bit. It means that we stay in a number of places of
accommodation each year. When we need to use the bathroom during the night, we generally tend to have
a good feel of where the facilities are even though they change every few days. On the night in question,
we needed to get rid of some Diet Coke. We headed for the bathroom, aligning in the usual way. After a
few seconds, we realized the sound of liquid hitting water, something we always expect to hear, was not
occurring. We made appropriate adjustments as we are dexterous in these matters and continued but with
no success. After a few more seconds and deep thought, we realized we were facing the bathtub, not the commode.
Feeling most embarrassed, we ended up washing the tub in the early hours of the morning, hoping our editor
either would not wonder why we had become so enthusiastic about matters of hygiene, or, needed the
facilities herself. We would add that we never mentioned this incident until we departed for the
next destination.
Hey, Sisters, we're coming to visit soon (South, Middle and North or Charity, Hope and Faith in reverse
order because they lined up incorrectly for the photograph).
Mount Hood, a hundred miles north, viewed from the park.
Editor looks up as temperature hits triple digits; she has a long way to go.
Soon thereafter, we arrived at another motel. We remember thinking whether we should travel in sandals
or socks with shoes. We made a decision and off we went. Upon arriving at the Dalles, we set up the
computer and began working when we were suddenly overcome. We could not remember packing our sandals
in the bag or car. We rushed to the editor and exclaimed, “We left the sandals in the motel room.”
We felt distraught at such carelessness. Although we had made an error, we did not appreciate the
smile on the editor’s face followed by hysterical laughter. We failed to understand the humorous
angle and said as much to Jenni.
“Look what you have on your feet, silly. You’re wearing your sandals.”
Don’t we feel stupid…indeed.
'Misery' loves company.
Everyone seems to be looking up
'Monkey-face' Rock, a rock-climber's paradise.
Recently, we were in Borca di Cadora, Italy when our friend, Gary Sneag forwarded a video. It was focused
upon female-male relationships, something we are still trying to understand. Barbara Frank
has been providing occasional guidance but alas, we don’t know whether we are making headway. Quickly,
the woman is explaining to her husband she is suffering excruciating headaches. He is attentive and
appears most caring. He explains the solution is easy as she has a long spike (nail) stuck in her head.
She blasts him saying, “I don’t want a solution, I want you to listen, to offer sympathy.”
This is most difficult for us to comprehend. When someone offers a solution to a problem, we say grab
it with both hands. We show the editor the video, expecting she will agree with us, for a change. We are
startled to hear she sides with the wife. We realize we do have a problem—we need therapy, after all,
this is America.
The next day, our editor summons us to help with the glass-top stove. To make fire in order to cook food,
she usually takes two sticks, a pot of water and prepares dinner in the wilderness. These days, internal
kitchens are a challenge for her, particularly, Italian ones. So she takes us through the steps of trying
to switch on the stove plate to heat the pot. The electronic system doesn’t seem to understand her commands
even though one doesn’t need to speak Italian.
As we have been taught about solutions versus listening, recently, we nod the head sympathetically without
saying much but ‘tut, tut’. We think tilting the head to the side sets the right tone.
“Can you get this to work?” she asks.
“Sure”, we reply.
“Then please do,” she commands. We see right through her, knowing she is testing us. We cleverly avoid the trap.
“We are here to listen, not offer solutions,” we explain, feeling we are about to be complimented on our
grasp of the issue.
Then she smacked us in the mouth.
A typical scene at this quite extraordinary place.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
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