Friends, Old and New

As travellers we meet people almost daily. We’ve been parked in Yuma at an RV park for a bit. We’ve had several RVs move in near us, then a week later, move on. Some we connect with, others no more than a head nod.

It’s a weird phenomenon. You can look at their RV and think “we’re alike, our RVs are similar” but then….. crickets. Nothing. No connection. They move on, never learning anything about them, except their license plate.

A new day dawns. Someone else backs in nearby. A friendly wave leads to a conversation regarding dogs, awnings, tires, trucks, hitches, whatever. A relationship can bloom.

This year I’ve met the best people. Generous, kind. Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

#1 cooks for for us. Not just lame leftovers he’s ditching. This man should seriously open a restaurant. The depth of the flavors he creates are nirvana. Everything is “whoa…..” He’s so generous, buying us breads from a local bakery, inviting us for “snacks” involving smoked BBQ ribs, bringing homemade soups. I really see him as a life long friend. He has a lot in common with the cowboy and he has a border collie. Love him. ♥️

#2 are friends from last year. A super generous couple who would give you the shirt of their back. They’ve been going to Algodones, Mexico for years and have enveloped many people with their love and generosity. Wife has ended up being my sounding board. I know with all I am, that all I’d need to do is call and they’d be there for me. Another friend for life.

#3 is Jan. We met Jan last February in New Mexico. Jan (I can use her name) is from Ohio and travels solo in her class C, license plate “SHESHED” through the winter. She came through Yuma in January and then came back through. We hope to meet up again back in New Mexico, maybe next month. Jan is what we as women want to be. Independent. She figures stuff out, fixes stuff I’d have no idea how to fix, researches what she needs to know. But beyond all that, she is a friend. When you know, you know. One of those kind of friends. We take up like long lost friends but our history is short. Thank you Jan for listening, teaching, giving. ♥️ Follow her blog and travels at Https//

#4 are new friends, a couple who we hit it off with. There’s a music connection with the cowboy. And for me, a friend in the wife. They’re from the NW too. After less than a month together, I consider them friends and know we will make that effort down the road to camp together in the future.

There’s plenty of other folks with a smile, a wave, a kindness I don’t always experience anywhere else, not even where I’ve spent the last 30 years of my life.

RV life, whether as a full timer or a part timer like we are, is an opportunity to learn, to love, to travel, to embrace people, to grow.

Do it.

My Mexican Dental Experience

After sending the Cowboy to have dental work in Los Algodones last year, I ventured out to get my teeth cleaned this year. You must understand that for 40 years of being a registered dental hygienist and having control of my dental life, this was a lot to give over. Similar to having your car worked on by a stranger! Or worse.

First impression, I waited 30 minutes after my appointment time to be seated, while I watched a large amount of staff checking their phones, chatting away, without addressing my wait. Second impressions were better. Brand spanking new equipment. Fresh faced, professional looking dentist, Dr. Erica. Ummmm I could be her mother, maybe even grandmother. Oh well, story of my life.

As a hygienist, I’ve done thousands of dental cleanings. I KNOW. Out comes the ultrasonic scaler. I get that this is how they do it in Mexico but I only used an ultrasonic scaler for the heaviest of build up. I don’t have that. And I’ve never considered myself to have sensitive teeth. But Mother Mary and Joseph, I just about came out of the chair from the ZING. A light scaling was all I needed. If I hadn’t forgotten my scalers back in Washington, I probably wouldn’t have gone. And while I couldn’t see what exactly she was doing, I could tell the polishing (the gritty stuff) was pretty so-so. Wouldn’t pass muster where I worked.

Then came the x-rays. Again very state of the art equipment, hand held digital. But no lead drapes for me or them. I let it go because I know the digital x-rays are extremely low radiation and frankly, been there, done that. If radiation is gonna get me, it won’t be from these on this day.

I have a “suspicious” spot that could be a cavity. I agree, it does look suspicious however I have some older x-rays back at our 5th wheel that I want to re-look at, to compare.

Anyway, without going into a ton of dental language that normal people don’t know, my possible cavity with no symptoms turns into a possible root canal and crown. Um no. Not going there.

And by the way, that suspicious spot has been there for several years, after consulting old x-rays. Probably nothing, just a translucency.

The moral of the story is anyone can tell you anything. And if it’s something you are unfamiliar with, like me and cars, you really have to trust them. I can get a new or different car, but your teeth are a one and done thing. Do I trust Mexican dentists? To a degree but I’d be cautious. There’s some things, like cleanings and x-rays, yup easy peasy. Bigger things, I’d take it on a case by case basis. It’s sooo much less expensive in Mexico, it’s tempting to go for the whole enchilada (haha, see what I did there?!) If you decide to take part in dentistry in Mexico, get 2 different opinions. Think about it, don’t just jump into a big treatment plan. And it helps to take your friendly neighborhood dental hygienist with you 🤣

Being Yuman

We’ve been in Yuma for 2 months. I truly enjoy it here. I can settle in and really live here. As we do that though, there’s not much rambling being done. I did sign up for a month of yoga, after which I promptly wrenched my back. Laying low for a few, then back to getting my stretch on.

We’ve caught up with friends from last year and met new ones. I left for 9 days to do my Gramma duty, watching 2 grandchildren while their parents recharged. I learned (or re-learned) that 2 year olds are challenging and there’s a reason young people have children.

While I was in Spokane, it snowed. This cemented my resolve to avoid cold weather. Brrr! This morning, reading some online news, I see it snowed at home in western Washington. This doesn’t always happen in winter there. I’m glad I’m missing it.

I have perfected another vessel for calories, embracing my new found “Yuman-ness”. Jalapeño poppers. Cream cheese, garlic, bacon and the secret ingredient: dates. I know, it sounds weird but the sweet with the savory and spicy, well, damn, you just gotta try them.

Until next time, friends!

Christmas 2018 thoughts

It’s a little weird. For me, the desert is a little incongruent at Christmas. Now I know Jesus was born in the desert. I get that. But I’ve lived 60 years doing Christmas in the usual gray, cold drizzle of Washington state my whole life. But not this year. We are spending it in Yuma, Arizona

There won’t be gifts under the tree. I have a 1 foot tall tree, lol.

But there’s other things. A walk through our RV park reveals different ways to decorate and celebrate.

I plan on getting fresh shrimp from Rocky Points for Christmas Eve dinner at Los Algodones

On Christmas day, there’s a potluck dinner put on by the great, selfless volunteers at our park (I’m talking about you, Barb)

As I flip the switch on my gas fireplace in the 5th wheel, I can transport my little space in the desert to a warm cozy home, where I can reflect on Christmas and our Lord who gives us what we need, when we need it. And while my surroundings are different, Christmas is really God and He is wherever I go.

Merry Christmas to all. May blessings abound to you and yours. 🎄

Rambling again

So. Much. To. Do.

Have you ever closed your house up for a long time? Like 4-6 months? It’s tough. What to take. What to toss. What to save.

We are getting to snow-bird it again. The joy I felt returning home last spring, so much room, my wonderful backyard, my fabulous bathroom ( I know that sounds weird but you gotta see it) is replaced by the adventure ahead.

We’ve never spent Christmas somewhere other than home. This year, it will be in the 5th wheel, Helen as we call her. It will be different. I expect warmer and drier (if it’s not, I’ll keep moving south). But although our children and grandchildren won’t be there, it IS our home right now, for this season, for this time. Maybe we won’t like it, being away, just the 2 of us and our family of RV friends, but I can’t tolerate the cold any longer so I’m willing to try. Trying this involves being open to new experiences. And that’s what RVing is all about.

And we ramble on.


Wow. It’s been 3 months since I’ve posted a blog. I’ve had a bit of writer’s block I guess. Putting one foot in front of the other, just living a mundane, regular life hasn’t inspired me to share any grand thoughts.

BUT, here it is. Regular life is something we often take for granted. To get up and have a “boring”, regular day stretch ahead of you is something so many long for.

This year has made me aware of many tragic stories. One might argue at my age, *ahem*, it’s simply age related. And some are. Friends aging means their parents are aging as well. There has been loss in my circle. Having gone through this in my 20s, I feel their pain acutely. And I know this pain eases over time, but never goes away.

A young woman, a friend’s daughter, at age 32, fights breast cancer. At 32, she should be living it up, starting to save for a wedding, buying a house, even saving for retirement. But with a beauty that transcends the chemo hair loss, she fights.

A young man, mid 30s, friends of our family, fights leukemia. With a wife and 3 young boys, this man is a literal warrior. As a member of the military, he is used to fighting. And fight on he does, undergoing round after round of chemo, taking any setbacks in stride, doubling down on a positive attitude, leaning on God throughout.

A friend son and his family, lost their home in Hurricane Michael. Thankfully they are all safe physically, but they now have nothing.

I know that the end of October signals Halloween for most people. But don’t wait till November to think about being thankful. Life is so fragile. Don’t wait to live.

The Big 6-0

It’s my birthday month. There was a long standing joke where I worked that the month you were born was your birthday month and you got to milk it for all it was worth. ” I’m going out to lunch, it’s my birthday month”, “I ate dessert, again, it’s my birthday month”, “I bought this new designer something, it’s my birthday month”. You see where I’m going?

Well, this birthday is different. It’s a milestone, 60. I no longer want or need to justify lunch, dessert or designer anything. Basically, if I want it, I go get it. But I just don’t care about that stuff much. I have less years ahead of me than behind me (way less) so stuff is just stuff.

The stuff that matters is how people treat you from a stranger to your “loved ones” to your close friends to your acquaintances.

This year I want respect. I want unconditional love. Would I like to weigh 20 lbs less? You bet. But that’s kind of falling into the “stuff” category now. Maybe my expectations are too high. Maybe I want more out of people.

I have tried to take care of people, tried to be kind, treat others at least as well as I’ve been treated. But you know what? It’s taken me 60 years to realize it, but people AREN’T going to treat you like you want to be treated.

Now don’t worry. Negative Nancy isn’t back. But as I start my next 60 years, lol, my patience is shorter, my heart hurts quicker and more intensely, my forgiveness comes slower. Some might say I’m more bitter but I think I’m just more cautious with my heart and feelings. I call it filtering out things or filtering stuff.

So here I go, into a new decade, full of different things. More aches, gray hair and focus on non-stuff but less balance, hearing and patience. My goal is to get into the next decade, intact, keeping those in my life that love and respect me, not chasing those that don’t.

Banjo: A Tribute To My Dog

13 years ago I brought home a puff ball of fuzz in the form of an Australian Shepherd. I named him Banjo and he stole my heart.

Very quickly, I realized he was going to be on the larger size for an Aussie. With that size came lots of fur. For the last 13 years, our carpets, furniture, yard and clothes have seen balls of hair scooting by, sticking, clinging. I definitely wear my badge of dog mom proudly.

The cowboy and I each have an Aussie. His is definitely his dog and mine is definitely mine. I walk to the bathroom. He sits outside and waits, unless of course I didn’t latch the door, then he noses on in to join me.

He is smart. Smart like I’ve never seen in a dog. He taps at the glass patio door. Not scratches or paws at it, he actually taps to come in.

Once he jumped in the back seat of our old truck when I had the door open and I didn’t see him. I closed the door with him inside. As I’m outside working in the yard, I hear the truck horn. Here is Banjo, in the front seat, honking the horn to get out.

When he was only a year old, Banjo proved his loyalty to me. The cowboy, fully decked out in painting gear, from goggles and mask to hooded coveralls, came up behind me like he was a monster. My sweet, even tempered, loving dog just about took the monster apart, as the cowboy is frantically ripping hood, mask and goggles off ,”it’s me Banjo, it’s me!” I knew then I had a protector for life.

Banjo is a “talker”. He barks, he “woo woos”. He lets us know someone is driving in, when he’s excited to go bye-bye, when he sees you put your coat on indicating a walk. It’s probably irritating to everyone else but not to us. Well, sometimes us too.

My Banjo, “woo-wooing” at White Sands National Monument in New Mexico.

My Banjo, he loves the water. He loves a stick. Put the 2 together and you have his heaven. As he got the older, he couldn’t bound out after a stick but he would walk out to his belly depth and just sit down.

Banjo has seen a lot of places that some humans haven’t. He’s been to the Grand Canyon, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Nevada and even to Mexico. Below he is in the Sea of Cortez, at Puerto Peñasco, Mexico.

Between the 2 dogs, not a rabbit, deer or coyote dared to set foot within their perimeter. An unsuspecting animal was met with yips of glee and a full out run down. They were great chasers, not such good catchers.

The McDogs on a special outing for cheeseburgers

But the last couple years have seen a slowdown of activity. The ears and eyes don’t work so well anymore and it takes all he has to get to his feet, sometimes only with people help. And in the last 2 weeks, as I write this, coughing and struggling to breathe have started. I know his time is coming to an end and I’m dying a little everyday with him.

He’s not much for selfies.


Post script to this blog post:

Banjo has crossed the rainbow bridge and runs pain free, chasing bunnies, sticks, and swimming all day. My heart is heavy with loss but light in knowing he’s breathing easy and not hurting any longer. Rest easy my friend.

You know, all dogs go to heaven 🐾💔

Sorting it out

There are 2 big things on our agenda this upcoming summer. First, a garage sale. After years of collecting, I’m now ready to, um, uncollect? Not sure if that’s a word. Maybe purging or cleaning out is better. When you have a 2400 square foot house, and it’s been only 2 of you for 5 to 8 years, there’s just too much space to shove things into closets and spare rooms. Our kids have been permanently gone for 5 yrs. Somehow they never seem to take all their stuff with them. Because we’ve had the space, I haven’t worried about it too much. But (there’s that word!), now we’re looking to possibly sell out in the next few yrs with a thought of downsizing and even maybe relocating to a new community.

As I’m going through boxes, bins and bags, it’s funny how it’s sooo clear when something needs to go. I opened a box that among other things, had 2 large rocks in it, about the size of my palm. They weren’t pretty. Why were they in there? Did of my kids give them to me because they were “special”? Or did I pick them up somewhere once and there was something special about the place? Who knows? I didn’t chuck them afar, just placed them outside. Can’t mess with the rock god’s, just in case ….

Letting Go

We’ve been home about a month. My perspective on our trip of 3 months is now fully in the rear view mirror.

One of the first things I did was toss my old flip flops. They served me well but were so worn, large sharp rocks went fully noticed. That was very freeing.

I have gotten to see all 8 grandchildren since we got home. While it’s a bit crazy sometimes, they are all such good kids. They have loving, kind hearts. I missed them and that’s one of the hardest things about being gone. But obviously my children are doing a good job and they are in good hands.

Since I retired almost a year ago, I’ve been conflicted about renewing my R.D.H. license. Registered Dental Hygienist. This was who I was since I graduated from dental hygiene school at age 22. Dental hygiene programs are brutal. Hard to get into, hard to pass. Many long nights studying. Hard nosed instructors who seemed more like drill sergeants. 3 days of state and national boards. I persevered. I passed it all with blood, sweat and tears. The payoff was a 38 year career that helped us prosper but helped me, personally become a confident leader in the office I spent 28 years in. Fast forward to no office. No team to help oversee. Pass off your team, your responsibilities to someone else.

Anyway, I digress as I tend to do. I haven’t “filled in” once. And now, 10+ months out, I can’t imagine jumping back into the fray. In order to do that, “jump into the fray” thing, I would need to bust out some continuing education before July 10. But I wonder why? I guess my point is it’s time to let go. And it’s almost harder than leaving my position of 28 yrs because it means I’m really leaving it all behind. That means I’m no longer who I was for my whole adult life. And that’s damn scary.

I’m letting go. Moving on. I may no longer be a hygienist, I may not know exactly who I am but to figure it out, I’m letting go and stepping out in faith.