The Blues Street

Evening brought us to Beale street--”The Home of the Blues” in Memphis, Tennessee.  

A young Elvis Presley even frequented the high fashion Lansky Brothers Clothing store for musicians on Beale street.  Evidently, early in his career Elvis asked for credit for a fancy suit of clothes before an television appearance and they granted it...and he was forever a loyal customer.

Memphis is renowned for visits to Graceland, but instead we enjoyed the crazy sights on Beale street.

Silky O’Sullivan's Pub allowed us to dine with all the kids, and shortly after we arrived the music started and the Irish diving goat kept us entertained.

Barely home from her adventures in Portugal, Nikela relaxed in the warm, muggy evening with us!

As the sun set on the the warm Tennessee evening, the fried catfish was a favorite.  

I am glowing green in the lights, and my sister remarked, “No wonder she likes green people!”  She was referencing my rant that it didn’t matter if someone was brown, black, yellow, red or green...but that it was the content of their character.  Vacation was filled with these moments that brought laughter and wonderful memories.

In the morning we were rolling down the road again, but first a cleverly crafted boat set sail!

On the road again...

As we rolled out of New Mexico and into the Texas Panhandle we were greeted by the wide open land where the grass waved in the heat.

A small Texas town was our destination for lunch.  Roosters offered Mexican food--and I loved the guacomole!  The cook even came out to chat and ensure we were satisfied with our meal.  I miss small town America.

Evening found us in Oklahoma City, so we stopped for the night.  The humid heat almost melted us when we stepped out of the air conditioning.  Nonetheless, we ventured back into the city to dine at Toby Keith's I Love This Bar.  The fried catfish was great!

Posed on the tailgate

Later that evening we returned to the campground and a cacophony of cicadas greeted us.  The trees were buzzing so loudly that Kade was certain he could get a glimpse of the noisy bugs with his flashlight, but alas, he could not.

Then at 2 AM the thunder started rolling and later the rain began to pour...and pour...and pour.

A few hours later we were on the road again towards Arkansas.  Soon the rolling prairie hills gave way to Ozark hills.

Nearly 1000 miles later in the mid afternoon, we reached our destination on the banks of the Mississippi River.

Here the Tom Sawyer RV park welcomed us, and we could watch the boats move up and down the river.

Four great kids with four different personalities

Mom and Dad ready for dinner!

I managed to capture a great moment with the kids and their dad next to that Mighty Mississippi.

All those hours of bonding on the road...and everyone is still smiling!

Another Day

At Albuquerque, we took the left that Bugs Bunny lamented missing.  Left at Albuquerque takes you to Santa Fe where the adobe homes disappear into the hillsides behind the pinyon trees.  On one of the these hillsides,  we camped.

Kade found a cozy spot for his hammock for the night--and with treats even tried to convince Duke to join him!

In the morning, north of Santa Fe we found the scenic gravel road to the Rio Grande River Gorge Bridge which wound along the river and gave us the freedom to stop along the way.

 The Rio Grande River was sleepy on this hot summer day...and a bit mucky just like the Colorado River at the Grand Canyon.

We shared vacation smiles, and looking at the photos now, I wonder--where oh where have the years gone?

The bridge over the Rio Grande River Gorge is the 7th highest bridge in America.  The river becomes a small ribbon at the bottom from this vantage point!

Beneath the sunny blue afternoon sky, we meandered through the largest surviving multistoried Pueblo.  We sought solace from the warm summer sun in the cool rooms of the Pueblo where local artisans shared their goods.  They were generous with their stories and hospitality.

A new restaurant had just opened and we were enticed by the roasting local corn.  The girls were waiting patiently for their lunch, as we were all famished!

We also visited the streets of historic Santa Fe and enjoyed the architecture--especially the cathedral, but here in Taos we found the spirit and history of New Mexico...and a day we will never forget.

Vacation

15 days.  6,020 miles.  130 hours on the road.  4 kids.  2 dogs.

As we pulled away from the house on Friday afternoon, the temperatures rapidly increased as we rolled through California.  In the valley it was 102-104 degrees.

At 7 PM we greeted the Mojave desert.

"106," my husband commented.

"More miles tonight?" I reluctantly asked.

"No, that is the temperature."

Suddenly I was glad it was not the middle of the day, as I could only imagine how hot it would be then with the heat radiating from the highway.

The limited and unique vegetation intrigued me--especially the funky trees, but not enough to stop the car and get out and take pictures in the desert heat.

Our first real stop was at the Grand Canyon. 

I had only seen pictures of my dad and mom's honeymoon destination.

It was great to have Nikela back "home" again.

Each pose sports a different personality--that I love!

The rugged beauty of the canyon enchanted me.  The sight was more majestic than I had anticipated.

A dramatic thinker posed on the edge.

Then the thunderstorm rolled in across the North rim.  A night I will never forget--watching the lightning over the Grand Canyon.

It was here, several miles down the road from the main canyon viewing point where the traffic disappeared that I finally got to see the Colorado River winding through the bottom of the canyon.  The forest hugged the canyon at some points--which suprised me.  I was anticipating a desert setting.

 The sight of Arizona elk made my husband happy.  They watched me closely as I stepped out with my zoom lens.  Then they slowly moved into the trees.

As the sun set, we discovered the beginning of the canyon, a deep break in the prairie.

Then in the dark we rolled into the first town, and stopped for dinner.  We hungrily gobbled down the variety of Navajo food we ordered with the warm fry bread.

Then as we started our 80 mile trek back to the campground, the kids asked us to turn off the radio.  In the darkness and quietness of the suburban we could hear the thundering and crackling of the impending rain storm.  

The familiar sound of "home".  

In the silence I realized that it is never the expensive or amazing things we miss...it is the simple moments...like a thunderstorm rolling through...because thunderstorms don't roll through and it never rains in the summer where we live now.

Then the rain started to pour down, and flooded me with childhood memories of prairie rainstorms when I would snuggle next to my mother as she would read to us.  And here I was visiting the place where my parents started their life together nearly 46 years ago.

The road less travelled turned out to be the highlight of our first day of vacation.

Chillin'

Camp is hard on a guy.

No worries though because this guy saved all his spending money until the last night and splurged on a hammock.

He slept in it his last night at camp--even sleeping through breakfast!

Luckily he was already packed up and ready to go, so he didn't miss his ride home.

At home, I found him hangin' out in the hammock.

Lucky for him, I am just happy to see that grin :)

Snapshot

My Uncle Dale faithfully read my blog and would send me messages--though he never commented publicly.   He told me once "...I have never written a letter to the editor of a newspaper wither, even though I read it daily."  He was just quietly checking in on my world.  He told me on several occasions he loved my writing.  That is what is great about uncles--they love what you do because you are you.

I miss him.

He is still one of my few followers in the virtual world.  Sometimes I look at his picture and smile.  He sports his beautiful gray hair handsomely, just like my dad.  Cyberspace offers immortality for a moment.

He was my youngest uncle, a mere 13 years my senior.  Thus, I thought he was pretty cool.

Memories are funny things.  Often the random moments are what we remember. 

The last time I saw him, we were cruising around the bay area.  I had picked him and his youngest son up early that morning.  We walked beneath the redwoods.  Then we cruised down the winding road to the ocean.  Along the way, he remarked, "You are a very good driver.  It is tough driving this suburban on this narrow road--and you don't even make me nervous!"  He was smiling, but he meant it.

Of course, he spent his life driving heavy equipment--and he was very good at it, so his compliment made my heart sing.  Later my dad would tell a story about how his little brother was driving the tractor home in the pouring rain and rolled into the creek.  Luckily he wasn't hurt, but extracting the tractor was an ordeal.  I guess he learned lessons along life's way too--that made him the driver (person) he became.

At Christmastime 2 1/2 years ago we were all together at a cabin in Lead.  I  insisted on a photo of my dad with his sister and brother.  They reluctantly participated.

Check out this dutiful enthusiasm.

Mischievously placing the hat on an unsuspecting sister's head changed everything (I think my dad was responsible).  But I love each one of these smiles!  I can even hear the laughter...

One of the few photos I have with my Uncle Dale is from the night I graduated.  I was 17.  He was 30.  I framed this photo and took it to college because he quietly insisted I should go and make the most of the opportunity.  It reminded me to work hard.

I do not know what we were laughing about all those years ago (was it perhaps my dad's antics again?)

I still treasure this 80s snapshot.

And I am relieved that he is no longer haunted by the pain of his short battle with cancer.

But, I still miss him.

Ripples

My son is at camp.

It is very, very quiet without him (remind me of this on the chaotic days when I dream of quietness...)

I love this moment I captured of him fishing with his dad in the kayak.

My oldest daughter is in Portugal.

Her absence compounds the quietness.

Thank you, Facetime! I can see her suntanned and smiling face--she is so excited to share the day's activities with me.  Yesterday she was delighted that she was able to say thank you to the donut vendor in Portuguese.  

She basks in the sunshine at the beach daily--though I think she spends the most time in the water, as she loves to swim in the ocean. 

Amidst the quietness at home, my birthday arrived.  We enjoyed dining out and returning to ice-cream cake, as you can see the party was small, especially with Kiahra hiding behind the camera.

And amidst the ripples of life I embrace another year...