letter of 1/23/07 continuation

I know, I write a lot and some of what I write (mostly re: politics) angers and upsets some of you. Well, some of what you express can anger and upset me, but mostly it’s your gross misunderstanding of my meaning and intent. I find that anger is not nearly as strong as it used to be. No, I am not changing under pressure. In fact, if you know me at all, pressure applied will meet an equal or greater resistance to that pressure. (One of HoJo’s laws) Maybe it’s because my writing gives me an outlet for those energies as I tell the world what to do and how to go about it even if no one listens or reads. I am trying to be less strident in my words, but those know-it-all, self serving politicos (from all points of the political compass) are becoming more and more strident. Maybe I’m just becoming more mellow in my old age. Maybe my years with Barb toned me down a bit. She was an Irish liberal Democrat and we had great political discussions - emotional, but not angry. I don’t know how we managed that.

Now, guess what? I’m involved with another Irish liberal Democrat, Daphne. How could I be so lucky? I wonder, could the Irish be genetically Democrats? So far no political sparks - a few little rubs here and there, but nothing remotely angry or confrontational. She has requested, "Be a bit less strident in your wording, just to lessen the possible anger of readers." She may be right so I am trying - not to change my positions - just to soften my rhetoric. I'm certain to ramble about quite a bit in this writing which is opinions, not news so feel free to buzz off at any time.

This letter ran amok so I decided to move the rest of it to my "HoJo's Rants" blog where it more properly belongs. In keeping with Daphne's wishes I have endeavored to keep it more friendly and less "strident." Click on www.hojo2rants.blogspot.com to continue.

Ho

Catching up and some future plans

Dear family:

A whole lot of water has gone under the bridge, and I mean a lot since I last added to this special family and friends blog.

First, I shall bring you up to date with my travels. It was late April when Charlie and I finally left Stockton for home in Buford. We drove uneventfully across the country on I-80 after pausing in Donner Pass to take pictures of Buford parked beside a wall of snow at least twenty feet high. After a stop, I drove on to the Detroit area for a visit with my girls. After our visit, I left Charlie with Mindy, Joe, Joseph and Chantel (thanks guys) for the next three weeks when I would be traveling.

May first I flew from Chicago to the Hawai’ian island of Maui where I spent a week doing many of the touristy things: boats, sights, beaches etc. Drove the road to Hana - spectacular! Then drove along the coast completely around West Maui - it’s at least as spectacular as the road to Hana, maybe even more so, but not as famous. Drove to the top of Haleakala crater, but it was cold, cloudy and rainy. Could hardly see a thing. I even did a bit of promotion of “Blue Shift,” dropping copies off to both Borders stores on Maui.

May eighth I flew to Kailua on the Kona Coast (west side) of the Big Island (Hawai’i). I had been invited to Hilo on the east side of the island to visit the Gemini telescope headquarters by Peter Michaud, their PR guy. The Gemini telescope was a featured part of “BlueShift” and I had shipped an entire box of books from California so they could be given to Gemini people. I was planning to sign them while there, but sadly, the US Postal Service screwed up and as far as I know, they have not yet arrived.

While on the Big Island, I visited many of the places I had been with Barbara almost fifteen years earlier. There were lots of memories and not a few tears. I also visited a macadamia nut grove and factory where they are harvested, packaged and shipped. (I have a great photo of Barb and I at the entrance to that building.) While there, I picked up about five pounds of nuts which I have shared with friends and am still enjoying. Boy are they ever great!

For the first time, I visited Greenwell Farms, a popular coffee plantation, and took a tour of the plantation. Our group saw several kinds of coffee trees (really just big bushes) and the plant where the fruits are washed and peeled down to the beans, the beans are dried out in the sun, and then are roasted and packaged. Their famous Kona coffee is shipped all over the world and especially to Europe. Starbucks in the US is one of their biggest customers. I bought twenty-one pounds and had it shipped home. That’s a lot for a non-coffee drinker. Kona coffee is so good it made a coffee drinker out of me. At least of Kona coffee.

As it worked out, my visit to Gemini was put off ‘til the very last day since Peter Michaud had been on vacation the week before and had a lot of catching up to do. It was quite a thrill for me to be given a VIP tour of the facility and watch computers display the work that had been done on the telescopes several nights before. I was amazed at how close the actual operations center was to my description of it in “Blue Shift.” Especially so considering I had written that part of the story before they broke ground for the building. They gave me a very special T shirt and even invited me to come back and give a talk about how I chose Gemini to be the telescope in “Blue Shift.” That was quite an honor so I hope to go back sometime next winter, maybe for a longer stay.

I also stopped to see my the last dental office I designed. It was for Dr. Brian Ito there in Hilo. Incredibly, it was just half a mile down the road from Gemini. Brian took me through the office and told me everything was very much as it had been for the sixteen years since it was built. He really like his facility and the Hickory cabinets I had designed and built for him. They still looked like new. I promised to contact him before my next trip out there as he wanted to take me to dinner and a visit.

May sixteenth I arrived back home faced with the monumental task of going through the house and clearing up so many problems left from four years of neglecting all but the most necessary maintenance and repairs. I started on the yard which needed the most work and the boats which hadn’t been in the water for several years.

The week before Memorial Day I went to Florida to visit a friend who lives in St Augustine. I may end up wintering there if things work out. I enjoyed a big family gathering there on the weekend before heading for home on Sunday.

Monday our quartet, The Willows, sang at the Leesburg Memorial day services at the cemetery after the annual parade. It was something our quartet has done for many years. It was a very teary day for me for several reasons. Barbara sang with us the first few times we were in the service and May twenty-ninth is our anniversary, thirteenth this year. One more emotional milestone. We sang “I’m Proud to be an American,” a very inspirational and patriotic song.

CAUTION! This paragraph is not politically correct! The parade, the memorial service and our song reminded me I am still very proud to be an American. This in spite of all the anti-American rhetoric from the main-stream media and the political left with their messages of hate created to attempt to divide us and degrade our image in the world. This effort is all because of their insatiable appetite for money and power. That small town parade and Memorial service is what America is to me. Fly over country is where the real Americans are who are willing to work for freedom for all people. The elitists of the left look down their noses at these Americans and their “misguided attitudes.” With their “holy” dogma and corruption of our Constitution, they cannot understand the heart and soul of the increasing numbers of real Americans who are starting to take our nation back for real freedom and prosperity. They can’t stand it that our economy is doing so well and that we are fighting for real freedom. They are doing everything in their power to scuttle and destroy our economy and our efforts for freedom no matter how damaging those efforts are to the nation. They’ve lost on the economy so their only hope to regain power is for us to fail in Afghanistan and Iraq. Should our efforts there result in successful democratic governments, they will lose a great deal of political capital and be out of power for a long time to come. For this reason they have become defacto supporters of our enemies, working and hoping for our defeat and humiliation in the middle east. I call that treason!

I’ve never figured it out - are those politicians from the liberal left pawns of the leftist main-stream media, or are the main stream media simply the voices of the liberal left? Maybe they are all merely the property of George Soros. Now, down from my soap box.

Future plans:
I plan to drive my Mercury with Barb’s power wheel chair, mounted carrier and accessories to Dallas as a gift to my niece, Pam, who is partially paralyzed by a stroke. They have no means of doing what this rig will enable them to do and this will make life much easier for them. As it is, she can only go where Elbert takes her in her regular wheel chair and they would have no way to transport a power chair even if they could afford one. I’ve put more than $10,000 into that rig and probably couldn’t get more than a couple of thousand if I sold it if that much. I hope to visit for a day or two with Pam and Elbert and also my son, Mike who lives nearby.

I’ve been invited to the wedding of a friend’s granddaughter’s in Orlando on July first and will fly there from Dallas after my visit in Texas. Then, on July third I will fly from Florida to Sacramento where Deb will pick me up. After a few days with Deb, I will head east in the neat little BMW sedan I’m buying from Deb. I plan to go through Jackson Hole Wyoming and view the Grand Tetons where, with a bit of good fortune, I may get in some trout fishing. I’ll then head for the Black Hills and Badlands of South Dakota before driving home to the lake. This will trigger many memories for it is the exact route Dee and I took on our first vacation exactly fifty-six years earlier when she was pregnant with Deb. I’ve never been back to the Black Hills or Badlands since then. After I return, I will remain here until after Labor day.

Music has always been a big part of my life. Our quartet, The Willows, is working on some new numbers we plan to present at the lake service the Sunday before Labor Day. I cannot sing with the quartet without thinking of Barbara who was part of our group for several years before she went into the ministry. Recordings I have with her in the group are treasures that I will always be able to hear and will doubtless always bring tears. No music has more deeply touched my heart than hearing Barbara sing and especially Patsy Cline numbers. I cried every time she sang those songs and regrettably, I never recorded a single time she sang them. Fortunately, I have several really good recordings of her singing other music including when she sang, “Til There was You” to me during our wedding vows. That lady has made it very difficult for me to hope to find a new lady. She is certainly a tough act to follow. One of my friends said recently, “Howard, you know Barbara has ruined you for any other female.” You know what my answer was? “No, she just taught me to seek and not settle for any but the best.”

After Labor day I plan to take Buford east for a week or so. I plan to visit Bobby and Bob and other members of the family and some friends in the east. My precise route will not be set until I start and that will remain flexible depending on coming events, known and unknown.

Church doings and a special commitment:
Last week I was asked to take the place of our regular lay delegate at the annual meeting of the Northern Indiana Conference of the Methodist church. I went to this conference, held at Purdue, for six straight years with Barb when she was an active pastor. One of the reasons I elected to go was the memorial service they always held for pastors who have died since the last conference. I sat near the back of the music hall as I was quite sure I would have some teary moments during the service. I was devastated when I saw the list for the memorial and Barb wasn’t on it. Somebody slipped up big time. I was so upset I walked out before communion service and walked back to my room. I was terribly upset and was still hardly over it by the end of the day. I didn’t even attend the dinner that evening.

By the next day I was beginning to feel badly because of how I reacted. Maybe my little guardian angel was working on me. It would be just like her to be pointing out my resentment was not a very Christian thing to do. When a well thought out plan for renovation of Epworth forest facilities was proposed with a 16 million dollar price tag, I made a fateful decision and commitment. I have committed myself to raising one hundred thousand dollars within the three year period until the money is needed for and as a memorial to Barbara. All I want is an acknowledgment plaque with Barbara’s name placed in a prominent place in the new facility. I’ll furnish the plaque. It is something I can do in memory of my dear Barbara, and I will do it. I hope to walk onto the stage at annual conference in two or three years and present a check to the conference. Now I have a definite purpose. All I have to do is figure out just how to do it.

Changes here at home:
It’s Saturday, June tenth and I am well into tackling this place and repairing and restoring four years of increasing neglect. I have made a check list (to which I add things daily) of things to do. I have done a great deal in the yard as that is one of the most neglected parts. I’m replacing Barb’s flower beds with plants and shrubs that do not require the amount of work her flowers did. I will still have some beds of Impatiens, but they do not require much work. Many of her favorite perennials have died and I’m looking for easy-to-maintain replacements. For the first time her peonies bloomed profusely in beautiful maroon. Her french lilac and flowering almond were also so very spectacular this year. Oh how I wish she could have seen them. I’ve weeded part of the gardens, but much more attention is needed. Sadly, her flox, among her favorites, didn’t make it through the winter for the first time since she planted them.

I’ve a whole bunch of RV trailers to get rid of on ebay and a garage full of yard sale items I plan to start moving this next week end. I also hope to rebuild the Viking deck-boat. Add to that all of Barbara’s things I need to find homes for and I have a real challenge. I’ve photographed all of her jewelry and will do the same with the rest of her clothes, furnishings, furniture, knickknacks and memorabilia. It is definitely an awesome undertaking. Wish me luck!

April 10th report

Greetings all:

I may not be able to head back home as soon as I planned since I have to do some repairs to Buford’s roof before I can leave. On my way out here I drove through some sixty mile per hour winds that blew out the left side of my roof. I didn’t know it until almost two weeks after I arrived here when I discovered water leaking in over the driver’s seat. When I got a ladder and took a look I discovered more than half of the curved section of the roof was missing–about eight inches wide by twenty feet long. I patched it up to keep the water out and ordered a repair kit ($600.00 worth) to fix it. When I finally found a Winnebago repair shop abut fifty miles north of us I took it in for an estimate. Would you believe $4,000.00 to repair the roof and clean up the water stains on the inside? My insurance will cover only a part of the damage repairs so I am doing the work myself. I have all the necessary tools with me. It’s not a difficult job, just a long tedious process climbing around on Buford’s roof. I figured about four full days and so far it has taken only two. I have been seriously delayed and will only be able to finish if it ever stops raining like it has been the last eight days in a row!

When I do head back, I’ll run I-80 all the way to Elkhart, just thirty miles from home. I made it out here in three days so should be able to do the reverse in the same time period. That is if it ever stops snowing on the pass to Reno. I-80 has been blocked with snow for several hours numerous times in the last few weeks and they won’t even let you drive it without chains most of the time. I might as well wait for an open day as it adds at least two days and more than 900 miles to go the southern route.

The repairs to Buford are almost finished. All I have yet to do is some caulking and cleanup on the inside. Of course, I can’t finish the caulking until we have some dry hours and we are supposed to have showers today and the next five days in a row. My only hope of getting away soon is enough dry hours (I need at least three) between showers so Buford’s roof can dry off and I can get the caulking complete. The caulking would have to set before the next rain. Then I will require at least a full day of packing, maybe more, before I can leave. The other problem is that mountain pass in the high Sierras on I-80. Even when it is open, chains are often required and chains for Buford are quite expensive and difficult to install. I was very lucky on my way here as all roads were clear and dry. It would be incredible luck if the same were true on my way home.

I had a really painful day yesterday–emotionally painful. In the church here I have been attending, we sang the cantata we have been practicing for many weeks and it went very well. As we started walking down the aisle with the opening section I suddenly remembered how much Barbara loved Palm Sunday. I thought of how she would have so enjoyed the cantata. I recalled so many special services she arranged for Palm Sunday. As a result, tears ran down my cheeks through most of the service. It wasn’t easy for me to sing, but I managed. I also remembered an incident of about a week ago that should be of interest.

It was a very unusual happening. I went to sleep on the couch while watching TV. Of course I’ve never done that before. Any way, I awoke about 1:00am and turned off the TV. As I leaned back on the couch and prepared to head to the bedroom I was suddenly aware of a very faint fragrance. At first it was familiar, but I couldn’t quite recognize it. Over the next few minutes it steadily grew stronger as I moved about sniffing many nearby items trying to find the source. All at once I recognized it, Windsong, the fragrance your mom always wore from when we first met. By this time I was making a serious effort to find the source; pillows, the couch, the floor, my clothes, nothing seemed to be the source. The fragrance was with me wherever I turned or moved. I checked the clock and realized I had been awake for at least fifteen minutes with that fragrance slowly intensifying until it was almost overpowering.

I sensed nothing but that fragrance, no tension, no person, no entity of any kind. I decided it had to be Barbara so I called out her name. Instantly the fragrance was gone. It didn’t fade away it went from powerful and intense to absolutely and totally gone in an instant. It never returned. I am completely baffled and can’t imagine where it came from and why it vanished so quickly. I refuse even to speculate. One thing I do know. I was not dreaming! That fragrance may have been completely in my head, but I was fully awake with it for at least fifteen minutes. That was an experience the likes of which I have never known. It was not frightening or worrisome, but it certainly did pique my curiosity. It also did make me think, but not speculate about a lot of things. Yesterday, I couldn’t get it out of my mind.

I can hardly believe it! As I look out the window I see blue sky and sunshine! It’s eight in the morning and if the weather holds I’ll finish Buford’s repairs today and be ready to pack.

Blessings to you all

Washington's Birthday news!

It’s a sunny day here in California–cool (60 degrees) and bright, but the sun warms your body when you are outside. I have to run up to Sacramento (about forty miles) today and will take Charlie with me. He so enjoys riding and is great company for me.

I had a rather “teary” Monday. While going through the boxes of papers and stuff I brought here to sort and organize, I ran across a little eight-page card Barbara gave me at least ten or twelve years ago. Reading those sentiments of love and seeing her ending comment, “No more... Barbara” I fell apart. I must have sobbed for thirty minutes or more immediately after reading the card and several more times before Deb came home. The card was bent and creased from being carried in my pocket for several years. When I shared it with Deb I once more broke down. Deb immediately put her arms around me and cried with me for several moments. We then ran through a litany of loved ones we had lost in recent years: Barb of course, Deb’s mother (my first love), my mother, my sister, my father, her mother’s parents who were also very dear to me. Then we talked about the wonderful memories–the words and snapshots of our lives with them. It was quite an emotional moment for us both. I thank God I have been so blessed with deeply caring children, other relatives and very dear friends. I’m sure you all will help me through other moments like these as they are bound to come.

Deb asked me about the seemingly strange signature line, “No more...” I explained it was a very special message, inexplicable without an interpretation from Barb or me. About the time we were married we started remarking to each other, “No more loneliness.” or “No more longing.” or “No more empty nights.” We would vie with each other to come up with differing “No mores” to express our love. It was an almost secret language where finally, the words, “No more...” alone was sufficient to convey our message of love. Eventually, I took the booklet out of my pocket as I wanted to save it from being destroyed. I hadn’t seen it for years until yesterday when I found it tucked away among some other cards we had exchanged and saved. That was just one of the memories of “magic” I will treasure as long as I live. No one or no event can erase or lessen those magic memory moments.

About the same time, a very dear friend emailed me the following quote saying it described my Barbara. I am sharing it with all of you because it says so much of who Barbara was. The quote was from Irma Bombeck:

“When I stand before God at the end of my life, I hope that I will not have a single bit of talent left, and can say, 'I used everything you gave me.’”

Sunday, Deb and I went to San Francisco to visit my niece, Marcia so I skipped church. It was a wonderful, sunny day even in Frisco–cool, but bright, clear and sunny. Marcia’s sister, Leslie, had called Friday and told us she was leaving Sunday evening and wanted to get together before she left. We arrived at Marcia and Michael’s about noon and had a nice visit with her. Marcia had surgery to remove a large, soft-tissue tumor from the inside of her right thigh on February ninth. She gets tired easily so we were careful not to over stay. She was her usual bright, cheery, upbeat self and doesn’t look the worse for her ordeal.

After our visit, Deb, Leslie and I drove down to the Presidio and took a long walk with Charlie along the shore (a couple miles each way is my guess) from Crissy Field to Fort Point right under the Golden Gate bridge. Walking back, the lowering sun painted the city a bright almost white in front of us. When I get the photos from Deb’s camera I’ll enter them in this blog for all to see. After that we took the obligatory tourist trip down Lombard Street before heading back to Marcia’s. There were so many people driving down Lombard Street it took us nearly an hour to get there.

We headed back for another short visit with Marcia before leaving for Stockton about seven. Leslie was heading for the airport and home and planned to meet with my sister and brither-in-law, Bobby and Bob Grimm whose flight was scheduled to arrive before her’s took off. The senior Grimms were arriving from Buffalo, NY after Deb and I left. Whether here or in Frisco we will definitely be seeing them.
Well, it’s about time for me to take Jake and Charlie for our daily walk so I’ll leave you with this thought:

Youth is not a time of life, it is a state of mind, a product of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions, a predominance of courage over timidity, an appetite for adventure.

Nobody grows old by living a number of years. People grow old when they desert their ideas and ideals. Years wrinkle the skin and slow the steps, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles and slows the soul.

Worry, self-doubt, fear, anxiety---these are the culprits that bow the head and break the spirit.

Whether seventeen or seventy, there exists in the heart of every person who loves life the thrill of a new challenge, the insatiable appetite for for what is coming next. You are as young as your faith and as old as your doubts.

So long as your heart receives from your head messages that reflect beauty, courage, joy, excitement and love, you are young. When your thinking becomes cloudy with pessimism and prevents you from taking risks, then you are old. For all her physical problems and challenges, my Barbara was always young. How can I do her memory any better than to stay always young even as she.

Jake and Charlie take me for our daily walk.

Deb's Birthday

Today is February twelfth, my daughter Deb’s birthday. It’s a beautiful, sunny day and will probably be in the mid seventies by late afternoon. It’s been like this all week making walking the dogs and working outside a really pleasant experience. I’ve become active in a little Methodist Church about ten minutes away where the atmosphere is just like home and the people are open and friendly. I’m singing in the choir, playing bells in the bell choir, playing Pinochle, helping with Wednesday night dinners and tomorrow, I attend my first rehearsal with their gospel/barbershop singers. I’m trying to give to the church as much as of myself as I can. I have received so very much from the church–the church community everywhere–that I wish I could do more.

This evening, Deb and I will go to see a modern dance group perform at the Bob Hope theater downtown Stockton. A play, and now a dance performance–whew! It’s almost more culture than I can handle, but I’ll manage it somehow.

Buford is all tucked away at a nearby storage facility ‘til needed for whatever. On my out the fiberglass roof blew out about twelve feet along the left side. The manufacturer admitted they had problems with this particular roof and have a kit available to fix it. My unit is too old for them to provide any help with the replacement so I am going to do the work myself and save about a thousand bucks. I’m trying to get them to provide me with two kits free, one for each side as I was warned the other side would probably go too at any time. The kits cost nearly $200 each so I’m hoping Winnebago will help out at least. Of course, how can I apply any pressure for a unit that’s eight years old? They did say the repair kits were very effective and relatively easy to install. It’s just that they take quite a few hours labor and that’s what runs up the cost of having the work done. Glad I have the tools to do the job with me–thanks to Bob Fee.

I must share the following letter I wrote for Deb’s birthday. I call it, “Incredible Deb.”

Yes indeed, Deb, you are incredible! I remember precisely where and where we met. It was on an elevator in West Suburban Hospital in Oak Park, Illinois in the early evening of February 12, 1951. You were the most beautiful newborn I had ever seen and your mother, holding you gently, was equally beautiful. Despite a bruised forehead from a difficult delivery, you were drop-dead gorgeous. Of course, I have never seen you as anything but beautiful from that first day to this. From that day the memories began to build.

Some were memories of pain: striking your head against the edge of a door when you were but a few months old. I was terrified I might have injured you seriously, but you recovered with no ill effects. In our house in Long Beach you kept hurting yourself by running your head into the edge of our kitchen table until I padded the entire edge of the table.

I remember a delightful little girl playing with her baby brother, then with a new sister, then with another new sister. I remember identical blue dresses for all my girls including your mother. I remember trips to Sequoia and Yosemite, a long trip home in our white Simca with a little brother. Stops at Tucson and in Monument valley during that trip. I remember a Christmas card picture with a little brother, taken in the old house on Eddy road, a little girl reciting “Madelaine” and “Krispins Krispian, the little dog who belonged to himself.” on the couch in Lyndhurst, a first day at school in Mayfield Heights, and many other precious moments as the years passed so very quickly.

Suddenly I saw a beautiful young lady walk down the stairs in her first high heels in our house on Lynn Park. My little girl had metamorphosed over night into a woman, right before my eyes. Then there were summers at the lake, waterskiing, boat riding, even some fishing. Each day a wonderful joy seeing you, your brother and sisters, your cousins and friends so very joy filled and celebrating life and youth. Then it was studies and dances and snowball fights and learning to drive, laughter and a few tears. Far too soon it was off to college and my little girl, now a woman, had left the nest to make her own life. I was so very proud.

Then there was hygiene school, marriage and two wonderful sons. A proud father became also a proud grandfather. During this time my own life began to fall apart as I struggled with a failing marriage and violent internal turmoil. Had it not been for you, your brother, your sisters and the rest of our extended and quite wonderful family I would not have made it through. Even with all that support I made many mistakes costly and damaging to others and myself. Through all this personal hell, you stood strongly by my side, never wavering.

Then, I hurt for you as your own marriage fell apart. It is truly devastating to see one you love go through painful times and be unable to help. But love definitely makes such transitions easier and there was much love surrounding you. I was so happy for you when an old love came back into your life even as I myself was finding love once more. The happy days we shared culminated in our six-month visit in Visalia–a wonderful time of pain and joy where hidden rumblings of future disaster haunted both of us. These days were some of the happiest Barb and I shared and you were a big part of that happiness. Remember the laughing jag?

Now we are both recovering from terrible losses, different, but extremely hurtful. It is a treasure to me to be here with you at this time. I know it helps my healing process and I think yours as well. Your cheery “good morning” each day lifts my spirits no matter how low they have gone. We share laughter, memories, tears, dreams and sorrows in an almost magical way. You are a shining beacon of love and joy for me and I thank God for you, my incredible Deb!

Love and Happy Birthday! Dad.

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We take a trip to Murphys, California

Sunday the 22nd, Deb and I went for a drive into the mountains about sixty miles east of Stockton to the little town of Murphys. It’s a former gold mining town with a very checkered past and an interesting present. The main street is now an eclectic collection of shops, wine tasting cubby holes and unique little restaurants with much local flavor. We had a wonderful time walking down main street and stopping into one of the little wine tasting rooms sprinkled about in the town. On our way home we drove down from the mountains into one of the most spectacular bright orange and red sunset over the coastal range I have ever seen. Yes, his palette was definitely at work. Here are a few photos of our trip.




The main street looking west of Murphys, California


Sunset over the coast range from route 4 on our way home.





Deb and I at lunch in one of the interesting little restaurant/delis in Murphys.

A note and a few photos

Greetings from Sunny (today) California!

It’s Friday evening, January 20th and Deb should be getting home any minute now. I’m all settled in by now, know my way around town a bit and have started a few new adventures. Jake and Charlie have become good friends after a rather shaky start. They now chase each other around the yard in play, taking turns chasing each other. I take them on walks together with few problems other than an occasional twisted set of leashes.

I’ve spent today going through photos from many years. Many of them really took me back. I plan on retouching a number of them including several of my father when he was a boy and then a young man. I also ran across a number of Dolores as a baby, Barb as a young woman and many dear family photos. Naturally, there were a few tears shed. I hope to place several of these on this blog to share with you. I especially want to share one of our wedding photos because that’s the Barbara I always remember. It’s also the Barbara that my heart always saw when I looked at her those last months. She always was and always will be a beautiful little lady to me. These photos are on my website, www.hobarb.com on Barbara's page.




My father as a young man playing third base in his favorite sport.

Mom and Pop enjoy a short drive in my new 1952 MG. This was taken behind my cousin, Carl Johnson's home in San Diego during our (Dee's and mine) only visit ever with this cousin from my dad's side of the family.



Yours truly tooling around Nelson's Ledges race course in August 1969. (in first place of course)

Well, Deb is home and I’ll have to take a dinner break. As soon as I get the photos on the blog I will send out an announcement.

So much for HoJo’s current chapter of, "Travels with Charlie" until the next chapter is written. I wish you all well.

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