Last Night as I soaked in the natural geyser generated hot springs, I thought about the importance of stillness and quietness. Off in a distance I listen to the sounds of cows communicating with each other and their calves. The geese pipe in as well.

Rural towns have their challenges. The impression is lack of access and timing. As the time winds down and I’m off this assignment I think I will miss Lakeview. Chef George at the hospital cafeteria who gives me two bacons and counts it as one because they are stuck “ it’s Siamese bacon” together. And Irene who bakes an enormous cinnamon roll as big as your head. I yet to try one but just the thought is amazing.

Iv’e rented a room on the outskirts of town and gotten a taste of the heartiness required to live here during the cold months. It’s 36 y’all in the am. I’ve yet to use the wood splitter but did partake in a reciprocating saw. I know what a cowboy gate is and today I will be stacking Juniper wood in the shed. There were two barn kittens when I arrived in September and now its just Brutus. Hiking here is out. Lions tigers and bears oh my. Replaced with mountain lions and coyotes. “. Why chance it?” I am offered to carry bear spray and a gun. I am not a sharp shooter and imagine how pissed off they’d be if I miss.

The nights are dreamy. Darkest of skies, blankets of stars to guide you off to dream land. 4 layers of covers on the bed with an electric turned on HI as a pre heat. Wake up to frost and sit if freezing car driving down to Stock Road. The first week I got here I had the saddest experience. It was a dead cow on the pavement as I drove by. The next day it was still there, the same cow but another up near the fence. No other cows around, just one as if to say goodbye or mourn some kind of way. I cried so hard having lost my mom a couple of months before. It was heart wrenching .

The stillness remains as I write and although I have lamented about the time here, I realize how much I needed to be here. Thank you Lakeview.

395 Highway from Las Vegas to Here, ten and a half hours drive. “ It’s best to slowly transition back to work”. Population was 2100 and now 3100. I cruise the town and stop at Burger Queen. I based my perception on first impressions. This time it has nothing to do with a hospital setting. I sit and observe. Bunch of sweaty kids different sizes and ages coming through the door. Some of them wearing helmets and I immediately think skateboard. The guy behind the counter handing out cups, no charge and the cups filled with both water and soda.

Its gonna be a good contract. Lakeview is 5000 ft above sea level and advertisement call this area high desert. Rural and rough edges greet me as I look around and notice the men. Fit and bearded.

Juniper, pine and Quaken Aspen trees. Juniper burns hot and now I’m looking forward to the cold. Coyotes, cougars and barn cats. Bought a raffle hoping to win a Ruger or a shot gun. The top prize won’t fit in my car.

How lucky to be at summer Camp…the campers from kindergarten to 5th grade . Never laughed so much. This batch of sweet funny and smart kids has again taught me listen and pay attention. Camp Acta Non Verba is in the Oakland hills. On my drive to work, I see deer and wild turkeys which sets a good mood in my heart and mind. Once I arrive I am met with an early am request. A microscopic splinter can send a 5 year old into a tailspin. That’s why I tell them “ you’re gonna take out your own splinter” . I can not see microscopically and the glee they have upon removing it themselves registers on their faces. Lake Chabot is nearby. A walk so a lovely you don’t mind poison oak. Oakland is larger than I realized and so beautiful. Meaningful as all heck

“City in Belgium” thats all I know. While on train I Met Hanni B. an Artist whose medium is paper mache, she had the most beautiful teal bluish eyes and she showed me a picture of her recent work. I told her she reminded me of Elizabeth Taylor. She asked us if we had seen the movie with Nicole Kidman in “Babygirl”. No but there were posters and banners throughout amsterdam promoting it. The Director is Dutch which explains the heavy promotion.

Arrived at grand opulent train station with banners of the movie, met new acquaintances and quickly went on another walking tour. Its funny that some of the best Dutch food is Chinese. As the four of us waited for the restaurant to open the neighborhood appeared to look rough. Uneven cracked side walks, speeding scooters, bikes and everyone smoking cigarettes. I was hungry and didn’t want to wait, I walked into a Turkish bakery. No purchase because it was all just bread and bready items “I’ll wait”.

The Port city is known for diamonds and Rembrandt House. The best part was observing my friend enjoying her friends whom she had not seen in 20 years. Such good hosts we walked to see old churches of medieval times. A slaughter house that looked like a church and an escalator made of wood slats. On to see Marlene and Francis.

“ I think you should change your flight plans and go to Paris”. I was feeling tired and said I would likely not. Phone call encouragement from my travel buddy’s mom lead quickly to book late night train for two to North Paris. 116 Euro from Amsterdam Central. Stayed at Peoples hostel and in the am, took off to see places I had never been to.
Cynthia is my ambassador of goodness. We met as neighbors and I have been friends since. For 3 decades she plans, researches and together we execute. First stop was Notre Dame which had no lines and is continuing construction. Mass had just started and I attended. I cried I ain’t gonna lie. I was filled with complete joy.
Walk walk walk to the Louvre. Bought 22 euro tickets to see the Lady. All I had ever read about or recalled was waiting for my eyes to glance at a moment of history. Again I cried knowing in all the years of hearing Nat King Cole’s Mona Lisa and reading about all the things Leonardo DaVinci was responsible for. There she was and reverence given. I did not like the 8 deep people taking modified selfies with her. It was sad actually because we become saturated with the self. I choose to accept what is and bask in her glory.
Walk walk walk to the Arc De Triumph. So much grandeur than what is seen in movies or pictures. I stayed outside while Cynthia toured inside. Several stories and floors later we meet underground. The traffic circle was magical. The foreign tourists around the perimeter, exchanges of car horns and low hum of the motorcycles was maddening in the best way. Paris is a really big city. On to the next place which brought on more tears.
The Eiffel Tower was enveloped in a low lying cloud mist. And she is beautiful. Burnt sienna was the colour not black like I thought. And all around leading up to entrance, vendors selling little replicas with flashing lights. These were just as beautiful and the image is cemented in my mind. Walk walk walk.

Parisian affair continue with the cafe at the end of street. an Algerian maitre d’ sat us down and I quickly switch seats to dine with Eiffel view, and an omelette au fromage. My sophisticated amie ordered a whiskey and steak tartare. Pomme frites and a coca cola “25 ml please”. About 55 euros. Everything there was so French. Red and white stripe canopy, the rush attitude of “hurry up and eat” but the best part was the quintessential woman who sat a few tables away. Impeccably dressed with Louboutins, camel coat and Paloma Picasso red lipstick. I was feeling grateful for the whole complement of what I think this place is about. Walk, walk walk.

The Catacombs was the last visit on this wonderful journey. A lot bigger place and a significant amount of walking made this an exciting finish to a great day. I found a wallet while walking among the skulls and leg bones, and looked inside. The guy was from New York and had some cash but I closed it immediately and turned it in. I yelled in excitement ” hey Cynthia…..look what I found” I was proud of myself because we all know how we react to losing a wallet.

The cold air filled my lungs as we walked back to the metro then back to the train station and it felt good. As I sat down and reflected on all the things that we saw ate and touched, I felt an overwhelming amount of bliss and spiritual warmth deep inside and then I was no longer tired or cold. The Algerian host at the cafe perceived us more as cohorts once he realized we were more like travelers than tourist. Initially not knowing he was algerian he asked where we were likey to visit next. “algiers” then it was on like peas and carrots. He has two daughters with one going “soon to university” and 10 years since his last trip home. He told us the French Lady is really nice and she was hired to take pictures with a Lambo. He called her over and I gushed in delight that she made this trip magical for me. She was so gracious which made me feel so silly all over again.

In a nutshell heres what I realized, no matter where you are its paramount to be yourself and stay wide eyed and curious. Once again I want to thank Cynthia for being her spontaneous self and the love she has for people and life.

Pickle ball and Amersterdam. Come January I’ll be joining my friend via KLM to the Netherlands. I have never been and heard from people who have visited recently. “You’re gonna love it”. I’m accustomed to going places off season which allows me to stay longer. I plan on riding a bike to the automat. Until then I will indulge in my most favorite obsession.

I don’t have an obsession with pickle ball it just sounds nice. I do find great pleasure in the terms that make PB much like golf. Words like Mulligan is replaced with a Nasty Nelson and “dink”. One must stay “out of the kitchen” during the first service. I attended a clinic which taught me the fundamentals I was not aware of. I’ve decided to develop an alcoholic beverage based on the name. A Nasty Nelson is a shot where the server serves the pickleball to intentionally hit the opposing player nearest to the pickle ball net. That’s not very nice but I’ll make a drink to ease the pain. Rum, pineapple and pickle juice please. I have not tried it yet. Friend of mine said ” Pickle juice snowcones were the first to run out…” referring to a time she worked at a park food stand. Interestingly enough I once babysat a toddler whose mom said he was constipated. I mixed 1 part pickle juice 3 parts water. The baby bottle concoction was a success.

So here’s to some PB and A. I am grateful that I have a nice group of people to play with but I do recall a player that warmed up with piston squats. I lost of course but its still fun. I’m curious if the paddle has a sweet spot like a tennis racket. I have a sweet spot for pickleball thats for sure.

On the heels of a new year, the Wood Snake 2025 is introspective and wood is a Yin(Yang) element. It is meant to be adaptable and flexible. As my research continues I read something profound. Snakes have “no limbs, voice, external ears or eyelids”. I had a pet snake, a coastal rosy boa whose body colour was muted grays and browns. During the summer I would take the snake out and put her on my shoulders and neck, the coolness of this cold blooded animal was a relief.

I too am looking for relief from the past few years which have been a mix of loss and restlessness. I move differently than before. Each step I look peripherally and see all that is good. I continue my quest for that perfect cup of coffee having been told I do not make it right. I continue to be overwhelmed with simple beauty that is now the geese that roam the neighborhood. Amusing is the idea that I’ll stop the car and introduce myself thinking the voice will resonate with them on some kind of cosmic level but really to ask them to move aside so I can keep driving. I still miss my cousin Cathy who I accept left this dimension on her own accord. It was still hard to see. It is not for me to “do something” to prevent a desire so strong disguise as something else.

I would like a snake like the one that is coming in 2025.