Porterville California I embraced dearly as a temporary home. One more month and off to another assignment. The people here don’t ask for much. Here, I developed a bad thrift store habit. Did I really need the Con air stone massage set up? I could use a crock pot some hot water and tongs couldn’t I? Funny thing I know I’ll come back to work here again. There is a small town feeling in all of us and its not necessarily a warm and fuzzy one but one of recognition. Porterville ‘s gifts of fruits, nuts and especially livestock and horse talk make me a fan. People here taught me love of family as they they walk the walk. Long lasting relationships and marriages outweigh just about everything else. A tank of gas lasted a month if I stayed local. And no one knows outside of tulare county where this place is but that’s okay. Next stop Cuba.
You are sweet, pretty and good company as the day is long. You make an effort to keep the ties that bind and you married a cool person too. A big thank you when you gave me great advice “Run when you happy”. This has made such a good impression I’m blogging about it lol. Seeing you mom and pops, My Auntee Marina and Uncle Bill felt good and wholesome. We may not hang out much at all but we are loosely in each others spheres. You turn lemons into lemonade (you too Jon D.) And I feel close to you because you initiate memories of Aaron. You are indeed a special person and I look forward to seeing you again even if it’s another 2 or 3 years. Thanks sweetie U Da Best.
It’s best said if you knew what it took to get that radicchio walnut cranberry salad you wouldn’t mind paying the price. I drove thru central California’s back side near the Sierras’ and Sequoias’. I did not know anything about all the towns on my way to Sacramento. Exeter, Ripon, Lindsay, Tulare, Strathmore, Terra Bella,Visalia. Of course Fresno. These fine towns provide us with such abundance. There is train called The Lettuce Express. I’ve been told it gets preference over other cargo. Then I observed two women sitting side by side on an open bench tractor like machine. I notice the sprayer she was pointing to the ground. As they rode up and down back and forth I thought is it a pesticide? Probably. They had masks but really we all know about repeat exposure. Living here in Porterville has exposed me to the harsh lives of others. I’ve been taught to appreciate Nature’s church that feeds and sustain all of us. From limb to limb I reach out to all the crop harvesters, pickers and generational disciples of Cesar Chavez’s migrant farmers. Thank you and God bless you.