COME ON BABY DRIVE SOUTH

John Hiatt's great song is running through my brain. We are driving south, albeit a bit of a zigzag through! ALABAMA! Last night we reviewed the weather and it appeared to be 10 degrees warmer around Birmingham. Hot 'Lanta ain't so hot! To be honest, neither is Birmingham! We made a short stop in Nashville to have pizza with Jason and Jaxon. Could I help it we just happened to be across the street from Toys r Us? Stuff happens on the way to Birmingham.....
We are camping near a huge lake in northern Alabama. WFS was born in Mobile... I'm just sayin' this girl has found little to love,except WFS, in or around Alabama....
We'll be in Florida on Sunday~~~

THE WRECKING BALL

Two weeks into demo and much progress has been made. Thumbelina has been razed. We now have a shell, literally. The tipsy floors are problematic. We will need a hydraulic jack to level a corner in the kitchen. The great bead board wall most likely not make the cut. The tongue and groove ceiling might survive. Might. The moving of thumbelina in the 30's left her seriously lopsided. It is charming, to be sure... My craftsmen do not agree. They cannot adjust cabinets and floors and new bath fixtures to accomate the charm. None of my very skilled craftsmen have looked askance nor fled. This is encouraging! My youngest very very skilled son DID shake his head... He refrained from saying we are nuts. It appears the sky must rain money or the house on Lexington Road must sell! The renovations are going to far exceed what we originally planned.... That's the way it goes in rehab.
We are taking a much needed holiday from house wrecking(me) & legal wrangling(WFS). Tonight we'll camp in West Virginia. The temperature is predicted to drop into the mid twenties. If we don't freeze tonight, we'll be sleeping in much comfort with Christopher, Audrey and Colin in Philly tomorrow night. My number one son turns 44 on Sunday. As cliched as it sounds, it seems like yesterday when he was born. And I would add, it keeps getting better and better.

THE WEEK Begins

Thumbelina is in tatters! The garden has no shape , only barren patches where English Ivy used to reside. A huge dumpster sits squarely in the middle of what will be my new pavilion and garden entrance. She doesn't look too sad, though. If houses could talk, and I believe they can, she is sighing a huge sound of relief and anticipation. Speaking strictly for me, I cannot take another work week as intense as the last. Back breaking, mind numbing work consumed me last week. English Ivy is a stubborn bitch. Our large tree in the front yard was twisted to the top of the limbs with ivy. The coiled, thick cords were choking the life from the tree. Hopefully, it can recover.
Today, a faux chimney, going nowhere, will drop from the attic in 5 gallons buckets. Handyman Mike will fill and drop the bucket to me on a thick rope. I will grab the bucket, take outside and stack the old bricks in neat rows for repurposing, later. This sounds back breaking and mind numbing....but, gratefully, it isn't that cranky English Ivy!
Inside, we are planing the new state-of- the- art HVAC with high tech insulation. We are exploring the possibilities of a spiral staircase leading to the attic and a possible small room for our grandsons. We are tearing out the old cabinets and carpet and demolishing the bathroom.
Things should start to take shape for the rebuild near the middle of December.
I am always optimistic. Stop sniggering!

Thumbelina

The past few months have been revelatory in many ways. First, I did not realize nor expect to be buckled to my knees by the death of our sweet, little puppy Chloe. Chlobel had lived with us 12 & 1/2 years. She was five weeks old when I slipped her in my sweatshirt pocket. She traveled across the US with WFS and me. I will miss her the rest of my life.
When my mother died in January, I held onto her unflinching fortitude. Her entire life journey was one of survival and resolve. I felt, in many ways, her legacy to me was to buck up. Look the devil in the eye and never blink. Weather the storm, stay the course. I honored her in death. I kept a brave countenance. I followed her roadmap. Dignity and poise. Holding my shoulders straight while walking with a book on my head. She was and still is my foundation of steel.
I reckoned all of her lessons. I did not cry at her funeral. I tried to be brave. I finally realized, my mom never taught me not to feel .. My mother told me not to cry. I honored my mother's wishes. I think my mother guided me to wail for Chloe. That is how I have reckoned my year of great loss.
Secondly, after many years of collecting a world of crap and some divinely inspired stuff, WFS and I have decided to chuck it all( or more accurately, a major portion) and live out our dream of traveling. We intend to drift about until we see all we want to see. We have purchased a lop-sided 1870's Station Master's house, moved in the 30's from the rail station on Frankfort Avenue to a knoll in Reservoir Park. Thumbelina is a "shot-gun" house measuring a compact 1125 square feet. She is completely charming and once I figure out how to resolve a two inch drop in the middle of the house, the fun of making her come to life will begin in earnest.
I have vowed to blog our adventures. I might spare you the three day marathon English Ivy removal. Except to say, it is a nasty, invasive, noxious weed and is currently clogging some nearby landfill. Horrors. As my wise son said, English Ivy is only good for an ant highway. The kid is right.

The Blind Pig

Life gets so busy that simple pleasures are swept away. One simple pleasure I love and count on is a spontaneous dinner with people I love. Especially, if the ones I love are, say, under 12 years old. Thursday evening brought AE, Sierra, WFS and I together for dinner. Sierra had just finished her dance class and AE just returned from a long tour of Asia. We had much to talk about. It had been far too long since we had family time! As Sierra's substitute Grandmother, the two of us were welded for the evening. WFS and AE discussed all those "guy" topics.
" Any new spots in Louisville?"AE asks... oh, yes, says I! Let's go to Butchertown, to The Blind Pig!
We drove into this up and coming neighborhood's lively eatery, located on a corner directly across the street from the old packing plant. Industrial, edgy & repurposed, this cool new space has a hip vibe, wildly imaginative menu that bridges a much needed addition to Louisville's dining scene.
Wine, beer and cocktails are made to excite and make one linger at the long bar. We ate at the bar on a previous visit and found dinner with the barkeeps to be rewarding & fun! On Thursday, we were seated at a booth with a great view of the entire restaurant. Sierra and I played on the iPad, so, moot point.
WFS ordered wine and AE had a goat slinger cocktail. The night was off to a good start. We ordered mussels in a garlic,fennel broth and crispy oysters served with a champagne sauce and aioli. The aioli was tart with lemon and had just the right balance of garlic. I saved a bit of the aioli for dipping my Blue Dog bread. I lapped the mussel broth, filled with crunchy fresh sauteed fennel.
Sierra ordered sausages, as did WFS. I ordered the bean chili and AE ordered the Ivory Bacon sandwich. Each bite we took was accompanied by oohs and ahhs. Sierra, world traveler and foodie, said, this is a fat wiener! She ate eleven mussels and nearly all of her sausage. AE had to eat fast to keep the other dining companions from devouring his entire serving of fresh cut French Fries! Superb!
The cabbage served with the sausages was perfect. Nothing more to say.
My soup was hearty, filled with six beans, tomatoes and tons of spice. Perfect soup for an autumn evening.
Sierra and AE had a bedtime curfew. WFS and I stayed, savored the moment, and spilt a brown butter tart.
The service was swift and professional. The price for dinner for four, a bargain.
I think we all would say: Welcome to Louisville. We hope you stay a long, long time.

ACROSS THE UNIVERSE

Internet connections have been sporadic, that's a good thing. Seeing the wonders of the west have been thrilling, to say the least. We have yet to experience temps above 70 degrees! Nights have been brisk and the warmth of our sleeping bags have been very welcoming. We have eaten only one meal not made campside and/or some scenic overlook as we passed through four states. I love cooking on an open fire. Our tiny little stove provides instant( almost) boiling abilities., so, clean-up for WFS is a snap. "How," he asks, " can you cook like this making barely a mess, but, blow up half the state of KY when you cook in your home kitchen?" I have no explanation. None. We've had utterly delicious fare, buying our supplies at local farmer's markets and the best organic store, ever, in Trinidad, CA. Situated conveniently five miles from our most amazing high perch over the Pacific.
After following the Trinity River as it winds through the mountains of California, we reached the best National or State Park we've ever stayed in. Ever. The views were stunning. The hikes, treacherous and breathtaking. The beach, tranquil. I think we might have stayed a month, but, the coast of Oregon was just up the way, so.......
I might have mentioned I love the thought of no sales tax and no pumping gas, and views that never end. However, the best thing in Oregon is: coffee on every corner! Espresso, Latte, hot, dark and oh, so good to sip just before you step out into the ocean breeze, that for a southern girl, is downright cold!
Portland and Cathy tomorrow....Ann, Linda, Katherine and spouses. Doesn't get much better than this.

A DAY AND NIGHT IN NORTHERN CALIFORNIA

Leaving Pyramid Lake, we headed into California. WFS had ripped out( before we left) CA and OR from our old atlas. I, the NAGivator, consulted the old fashion road map. No GPS, no iPad , no nothing, just the roadmap in my lap. A fuzzy old friend. We decided to go through Plumas and the Sierra Nevada range to Lassen Volcanic National Park. We found an irresistible little ice cream and burger stand, The Polka Dot, nestled by a creek. I love old signs and milkshakes. !bingo! Fueled for the day, we ambled toward the imposing peak of Lassen. 10,457. Cold too! The road was closed about two thirds of the way up,so, we drove the road as far and high as we could. 'tWas amazing. We scurried down Lassen and headed toward a higher peak, Mt Shasta, 14,162.
While talking with Jaxon on the phone about Lassen and Shasta, he asked the last time it erupted. 1921(Lassen), and the time before that, he asked.... Don't know, said I,to which he replied, if you get that information, I can tell you when it will blow again and you'll have time to get out of there!
Nothing blew, so we camped on the deep forest floor with bear roaming about. We didn't SEE a single bear but they do poop in the woods. I swear.
We could see Castle Crag and Mt Shasta from the vista near camp. Plus, the divine Sacramento Riverr rapids were a mere mile and a half away by the bear trail.
We had a coin toss, head for Crater Lake or Redwoods National Park and the sea~ we cheated a little. The Pacific was singing a compelling song. Camping by the sea tonight.

PAUITE, PYRAMID LAKE

Shore birds and water gently lapping brought my senses to alert in pre-dawn light. From deep inside my warm cocoon I could sense the morning light. I missed the starry skies, time changes and two days of extreme travel left me road weary. After our dinner, a walk and clean-up, I got my reading light, book and magic pillow and crawled into the tent.
Winds are fierce around Pyramid Lake, it is very lunar and desolate. The ranger advised us to camp on Windless Beach. A slightly protected cove, that loosely meant one could stake down the tent and not be
blown away. She said the winds would die down in the night but roar in like a tornado in the early morning. The winds did roar,
but, our little tent did not quiver. Yeah Mountain Hardgear! The azure water against the granite mountains are a brilliant contrast. The stillness juxtaposed with lashing winds were the very essence of primal. This lovely lovely country speaks to my soul. This crazy nomadic travel isn't for everyone.... But, for WFS & me, it is paradise.
These two seasoned travelers forgot to buy camp stove fuel, so, we made a beeline to Reno REI! California, here we come!

The Great Salt Lake

Comparing our plane flight to the misery of the Mormons struggling with lunacy and adversity, makes whining about air travel rather trivial... But, when you are our age, and must run at full gallop across the Denver terminal and are asked to pay! Yes, pay! For peanuts, m&m's... You either laugh( we did) or curse the airline industry( we did). We touched down in Salt Lake City 7:45 local time. Rental car agency had a small compact instead of Tahoe, gas guzzling camping SUV we had reserved. This was all sorted out by 11:00p local time. Early morning for the KY immigrants. We pitched our tent on a grassy, rose laden spot with snowy mountains and clear, cool night air enveloping our weary souls. Sleep came quickly.
Morning brought bright blue skies and a great coffee shop. We found Whole Foods, State Liquor and ice... We have provisions galore. We drove west to the Bonneville Salt Flats. A sight to behold! We'll be in far western Nevada on the Pauite Indian Reservation tonight. Pyramid Lake. I suspect we'll be cold, cold tonight. We have chili for dinner and a bottle of wine and each other. Guess that will be enough.