Saturday, September 23, 2017

Age Appropriate

So, I got one of these.

I wanted to see what my heart was doing and the sleep reports looked interesting.

Less interesting was how many steps I took in a day ‘cuz, I’m a writer. The most important steps are the ones that take me to my seat in front of the computer.

Turns out the thing is like that snoopy friend you never wanted.

Lots of intrusive questions.

Then after a couple of days, the reports filtered in.

The first heart report sounded good ... but ... what's that -- for a woman my age?

I beg your pardon. 

That's just a hop, skip and slippery slope to -- you're too old to do that. Or too young. Or too female. Or (these days) not female enough.

How rude. 

Besides what is hidden in the fine print is that the numbers show a resting heart rate, but not a real resting heart rate just an averaging of the heart rate over a day, so insult me with false findings why don't you? Thanks ever so.

Looking at the sleep report, it seemed like I don’t get much, over-laid with a heart rate strip that looked like a nine on the Richter scale.

Suddenly, this was too much information.

And the thing knew where I was all the time, what I was doing (bragged it could guess any activity after 15 minutes) what I’d been eating and how much I drank.

I am almost used to being tracked non-stop by the cell phone. This was one eye on me too many.

I took it off and tucked it into my sock drawer. I doubt it will cause any trouble there.

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Back to the Golden State

Here are some of the pictures that ten pounds of camera equipment produced on a nostalgic trip down the California coast echoing trips I took when I was still in college.

Spent my birthday on the Rock. Alcatraz Island.

On to Point Lobos, where Edward Weston and Ansel Adams worked.

China Cove. Edward Weston made a famous photograph here. I stood in this exact spot when I was 19 and all I had was a camera and a future in front of me.

Then down to the relatively crowd-less Morro Bay which was teeming with wildlife.

Then back home where Montana tells me summer is over.

Goldilocks and the Travel Journal

My original travel journal setup was a pocket-size Moleskine with a couple of pens and a pencil, glue stick and folding scissors in a canvas case sold by an entrepreneur who has since gone out of business.

Then I stumbled onto the Midori Traveler’s Notebook universe and well … this happened.

Two! Passport and Regular in black.

 So, when a trip came up, I thought, let’s switch to a better travel journal – Moleskine paper not being what it used to be.

The regular Traveler’s Notebook was out of the question.


Especially when I’m already carrying ten pounds of camera equipment.

So this arrived. 

Passport size, in camel. Cool. Tucked right in the old canvas case.

Away we went.

It lasted one and a half trips before I realized it was TOO SMALL.

Since the addition of the polaroid printer – business card size photos were taking up lots of space. 

I hunted down a stationary store on the road and returned to the pocket Moleskine of yesteryear.  

Which was – JUST RIGHT.

And goes to show, that old adage is correct.

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

Monday, July 31, 2017


So, enough about politics.


Went to the county fair last week, a bit of Americana I’ve always loved.

Homemade crafts. Farm raised produce. An art show. Livestock. A carnival. The rodeo. What’s not to love?

Our local fair, which used to stretch through four buildings and two barns, toured by walking over dirt paths, in July. Heat stroke kept at bay by free ice water doled out in a booth run by Christian youth. Hunger pangs soothed by steak sandwiches handmade by Kiwanis gents.

A few years back a committee decided to improve the fairgrounds. Well, okay, the grandstand was about to collapse, but why stop there? They paved all the paths, built a large, air conditioned “multi-purpose” building. They tore down the old barn and most of the other fair buildings.

And was the fair improved?

4H seems to be going strong, but the rest of the fair is almost non-existent.

Improved into just an old memory. That haunting refrain that begins … back in the old days.