We got up about 4 a.m. yesterday and took the train to Munich. We arrived there about 9 a.m. and spent the day and evening walking from one end of the city to the other looking at the sights and taking in as much as we could in the time we had. Our taking in sights was punctuated by ducking into the nearest available store periodically to heat up our bones again. It was something like -2 degrees celcius. I’m not sure exactly what that translates to in American English, but I’m pretty sure the rough translation is really, really, really cold. I’ve bought more hats, scarves and boots since I’ve been here than I’ve bought in the last ten years.

We saw so many beautiful sights that its hard to describe it all. The Christmas Markets there are world renowned. The architecture is breathtaking. The Residenz was something out of a storybook. The shops and stores in the old downtown had every Bavarian treasure that could be had and priced outrageously for the tourists who walk those streets day and night regardless of how cold it is outside. As I’ve mentioned before, one of the things I have noticed about the Germans, they don’t let a little cold weather keep them from having festivals or keep them inside.

What can I say about Bavaria. The people are friendly. There’s so little crime that its easy to forget that you are still in a huge city and there is surely someone there that would rob you. The people here use every excuse imaginable to have a festival. The towns and countryside are unbelievably clean and organized. Even the wood in the fields is stacked in perfect order. People take responsibility for their own actions and their own property. If a deer runs in front of your car, its the property owners responsibility to take care of the deer carcus so that it doesn’t cause any further problems or stay rotting in the road. And the people seem to love a good time.

As we walked across the old very cold downtown to our hotel room last night, at midnight through streets still crowded with revelers, tourists, locals and one group of German men singing songs that echoed through the market place, I commented to my Beloved Curmudgeon that when one sees the Germans in this light, its hard to believe they started two world wars. He laughed and said they must have gotten drunk one night and when someone said, ‘lets start a fight’, they went for it. We both laughed and talked about what a happy, fun loving people they seem to be.

When we got up this morning and it was so bitterly cold, we decided to rent a car to drive back to my son’s apartment rather than take the train. We also decided to pass up another trip walking through Munich to see whatever. It was just too cold for us Southern Americans.

Since we weren’t going to sightsee in Munich anymore, my Beloved Curmudgeon suggested we stop at Dachau on the way home. It was right on the way and he thought that would be something interesting to see. I admit that the cold and the fact that I was absolutely sure it would be just too depressing, made me less than enthusiastic at the prospect. But I thought to myself, when will you ever get the opportunity to see something like that again and decided to go in spite of the frigid temperatures.

And so we went to Dachau Concentration Camp.

Reading about the concentration camps of the Third Reich and touring one of them are two completely different experiences. Reading about the camps, watching a documentary is an intellectual exercise. Walking through the camp, seeing the pictures of the victims, reading their stories, seeing the bullet holes in the wall in front of which executions took place, looking at the ovens in which bodies were disposed of, seeing the sites where ashes were disposed of is an emotional experience …. visiting the place gives an entirely different perspective.

I was very cold when I walked into the barracks. I had on a warm winter coat, boots, scarves and a hat and I was uncomfortably cold. Even in the barracks where the wind was stopped by the walls of the building I was cold. I imagined the men and women who endured those barracks for years without the benefit of warm winter clothing. As I walked across the court yard I found myself hurrying over it as the wind cut through the clearing between the buildings unmercifully and chilled me to the bone. I had read some of the history of Dachau and knew that the grounds over which I walked was where the prisoners were forced to stand for hours every day for an accounting of prisoners. In summer and winter they stood there. Often for hours at a time. In rags. If they collapsed, they were left. Sometimes even the dead were drug out there and left with the others as they stood at the mercy of their captors.

My discomfort suddenly seemed completely insignificant and self indulgent. How could I complain when so many had suffered so terribly there. I stopped hurrying. For some odd reason it seemed disrespectful for me to let my feeling cold move me faster across the grounds. I feel silly even typing that out. Its such a ridiculous idea that has no real meaning at all. Still, it seemed that too many had died there for me to give any concern for my own comfort while walking across that gathering place. I walked slower and let myself feel my discomfort. It was an embarrassingly small gesture, but it was instinctual and all there was that I could do.

At the farthest end of the camp is the extermination area. The incongruence between the pleasantly manicured natural beauty of the area and the brutal murders that took place there is disconcerting. The original building holding a gas chamber and ovens was only in use a short time before it proved to be too small for what it was used for. A larger building for the same use stands just a few feet away having been built just a few months after the first building had been built. Walking through those buildings is an experience I will not soon forget. One should not forget it. The Russians and Germans who had not complied with the Nazi ideology were executed by riffle or pistol against walls a short walk further down the lovely wooded path that leads from the main camp to the execution area.

The names, faces and stories of those who inhabited that forbidding encampment are haunting. Among many other things, the Nazis were precise record keepers. The victims linger there in the records. Photographs and statistics tell their stories. Some stand out in my mind. Photos from before their imprisonment beside photos of them while imprisoned reveal changes that rendered them virtually unrecognizable. Successful businessmen, school teachers, homemakers, students, people from all walks of life were brought together to endure the same fate in Dachau as well as the many other camps into which people were herded for extermination.

Jews, gypsies, homosexuals, the infirmed, the socially feeble minded, criminals, Russians, political rivals, those who had been German elite prior to the reign of the Third Reich and local people who tried to do something about the horrors they couldn’t help but have known was right down the road. It helped me understand why the local people chose blindness and deafness over confronting the evils unfolding just down the road. They were also killed if they attempted to do anything about it. I found myself wondering what I would do in similar circumstances. When neighbors and friends disappear for speaking out would I have the courage to speak out? I hope I would, but how can I know. No one who spoke out survived to tell us. Those who didn’t had to live with what they chose not to see.

We know and see things today that we choose to not see. We feel badly about it, but go on with our lives just feeling bad about the evils in the world. That’s all. We don’t really stop and do anything more than feel bad about it. At what point do we decide that we have to speak up even if it means at the risk of everything.

The lighthearted festivities of the night before in Munich disappeared in the stark reminders of how a perfect storm of circumstances drew an entire nation into evil. The Germans say they have learned their lesson. It would do us all well to remember that we all could become ensnared in similar traps. The lessons there are not just for the Germans, but for us all.

We left Dachau and drove home in complete silence.

(This post was written while we were in Germany but didn’t have a chance to post it until now.)

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We are having a blast in Germany. We got here in the early morning hours last Thursday and after getting lost in the Frankfurt airport and somehow circumventing customs and coming out on the wrong side of the arrival terminal, we found our son (or he found us) and we started making our way back to his city via many stops en route. It was absolutely wonderful seeing him and his fiance and immediately getting a tour of a couple of German towns before we got back to his apartment.

The second day we were here (I think … cause time is completely out of whack for me!) we went to Rothenburg. One of the cultural differences that has really struck me here is that regardless of how cold it is outside … and cold only begins to describe it … people still get out and go places and do things OUTSIDE! My first real taste of that was our day in Rothenburg ob der Tauber (that means that this town of Rothenburg is the on that is above the Tauber River. Apparently Bavarians might have several towns with the same name and distinguish one from the other by where they are located. This one is distinguished from the others because it is located above the Tauber. Now you know!). Rothenburg is an ancient, medieval town that is well preserved, has survived many wars and continues to thrive.

As anyone reading this surely knows, it is one thing to know something intellectually and something altogether different to know it through close observation. Our day in Rothenburg impressed upon me the very different sense of history and time that Europeans have from those of us who have spent our lives in the ‘new world’. There are buildings in Rothenburg that were built in the 1400s and 1600s. Those buildings have stood and are still in use since long before Western man had a clue that the Americas even existed. They still believed that the world was flat. Just think of the history that has transpired since the day someone decided to build those buildings and build the wall around that town. Their perspective is much longer than ours in more ways than one.

As I mentioned, the German’s don’t stay inside when its cold. I lived in Michigan for a few years and really kind of expected it to be cold in much the same way it is in Michigan. Its not. At all. We are woefully unprepared for the cold and have had to buy more to keep warm because we are spending most of our days and evenings outside in spite of the minus 2,000 degree weather. Okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but I’m not sure its much of one. My poor Southern bones are just not used to being this cold.

We spent all day and well into the evening outside, enjoying the sites and sounds of Rothenburg. And it wasn’t just us crazy people. The place was full and everyone was walking around, enjoying the Christmas market, enjoying the shops and doing tourist-y things in the frozen place. They even put their babies in strollers and take them out - thickly wrapped in some German material that has a super sekret ingredient for warmth. ‘How do they stand it’, I asked my Beloved Curmudgeon, with chattering teeth and shaking bones. He said they are used to it. Its their culture, he said. They just don’t let weather stop them from what they are doing. Oh.

At one point we go into one of the horse drawn open air carriages for a pleasant tour of the town in minus quadrillion degree weather. The driver of our carriage could have just walked straight out of central casting. He spoke to us in German and when he saw our blank stares, he spoke in English. His English was good as far as it goes. He was obviously accustomed to English visitors. Imagine Arnold Schwarzenegger’s accent and multiply that by 100 and you will have some semblance of an idea of how this man sounded. His red hair was cut short in what appeared to be some sort of buzz cut, at least what I could see of it under his hat. He had the complexion and demeanor of a man who had spent most of his days exposed to whatever elements God provided from day to day. I imagined that hard work without complaint and hard were his lot. I imagined that was just fine with him.

He told us the outrageous price for a thirty minute carriage ride through town enhanced by his guided tour. We turned over the Euros and got into the back of the buggy. I greedily pulled a heavy woollen blanket over myself and offered to share a corner of it with Beloved Curmudgeon. Beloved Curmudgeon took what I offered, which wasn’t much I’m ashamed to say. My Soldier Son and his fiance climbed into the other side and under another blanket. Somehow that blanket offered an unbelievable amount of warmth. I wondered if they made wool thicker in Germany. The horse chose that moment to urinate on the sidewalk. Our driver/tour guide said something to the effect that we would have to wait on the horse as he must clean up his pee. He went to the back of the carriage and pulled out a large container and once the horse was done he poured the contents of the container on the pee and then we began our tour. As the driver got back up into the carriage I commented on the cold. The wind was blowing and the only warm part of me was what was under that wool blanket. He looked at me quizzically and stated, ‘It is winter’. Why yes, it is. That was the end of that.

As we went along our driver would point out sites of interest, such as ancient torture chambers and places of hanging and punished those who needed public humiliation to keep them in check. He seemed to enjoy describing these techniques to us. Maybe I just imagined that, but I don’t think so.

Both of the horses pulling our wagon had to stop and … how do I put this delicately … answer the call of nature. This called for the driver to stop, grab a bucket and put it up to their rears to catch the waste. It was not a pretty sight or pleasant smell. My son thought my reaction was hilarious and only made it worse by making funny remarks. He was sitting further back than me. They were right in my face. The second time this happened it was the horse right in front of me and our driver seemed to enjoy that my son and husband were making viscous fun of me while I tried to catch my breath somewhere … anywhere … away from the smell. As he held his bucket behind the horse and turned more or less in my direction he remarked that the shop on the corner right next to us was a great place for very large sausages if we were hungry. He described the sausages in detail with a twinkle in his weather worn eyes. I looked at him to try to determine if he was joking or completely oblivious to the sight and smell that was permeating the entire wagon at this point. I didn’t want a sausage right at that moment.

As the day went by it became more and more obvious to me that the Germans don’t let the weather interfere with their good time and have a variety of ways to keep warm. The market place was full with happy and festive people. St. Nicholas was there digging through his knapsack for gifts of brochures to give out to whoever. The night watchman walked the grounds in black robe and carrying a long wooden double bladed axe that was a very convincing crime deterrent. My husband and son climbed the highest tower and saw the world from that height while we watched from below.

By the end of the evening, even though I was still chilled to the bone long after we had returned to the warmth of my son’s apartment, I understood why the German people go out regardless of the weather. They, at least the Franconians, are a people who enjoy life and find any excuse whatsoever to have a festival. In fact, as best as I can determine, they have festivals all the time. By the time we went to the local Christmas market (again) last night, I wasn’t so cold. We stayed till it closed, had a fantastic time, meet a lot of random people, I laughed till my face hurt at stories told in German that I couldn’t understand but were still funny and I didn’t feel all that cold. I’ve discovered some of the secrets of the locals to keeping warm. It really is a lot of fun. We are just loving it here!

We are leaving for Munich in a couple of hours for a couple of days. I just wanted to steal a few minutes to say hello and write a quick update. I know my son will have us up well before dawn to start the trip. He’s gotten so bossy (smile). I apologize for the wordiness and will try to cull it down a bit when we return from Munich - although then we are going up north for the wedding so who knows when I’ll be online again. I’ll also try to tell you about our trip into the mountains to go to a Monastery at the very top of an icy/snowy mountain and try to order food that we didn’t know what it was and they couldn’t tell us. Its all an adventure ( ) Thanks to all the wonderful people who are posting here while we are gone. I hope everyone will visit their blogs because they are great people and have a lot to say that is worth reading!

We are going to be visiting Rothenburg ob der Tauber in a few days. I’ve been looking up information about it and other places we’ll be visiting on the internet and came across the photo to the left and my first thought was, ‘That’s just so wrong’.

Rothenburg, which I can’t come anywhere near pronouncing properly, is a medieval town in Germany that has managed to not be destroyed through several wars over the centuries. In World War II the town fathers defied Hitler’s orders to fight to the death and surrendered rather than allowing the town to be destroyed. About 40% of the town was bombed, but not the historic district. One of the Americans who bombed the area, a man named McCloy, helped rebuild the town after the war.

The town is known for being the best preserved medieval in Germany.

As I was looking at pictures of the town I came across the McDonalds. All I can say is that at least they didn’t tear down the building and put up the traditional golden arches.

Is it just me or is there just something so out of place about that?

Nothing is worse than going to a vacation destination and finding a once pristine beach that has been run over and ruined by tourists. Even though you are a tourist you know that other tourists are completely to blame for the junk on the beach and the ruined beauty that was once there.

I was just reading an article along those lines. The article is called Growing Ecotourism Industry In Hawaii Protects Environmental Assets While Increasing Profits. Ecotourism is a method of supporting tourism and providing great accommodations without destroying the very sights you have come to see. For instance, just a few short steps away from Kauai vacation rentals is the breathtaking beauty of the majestic Na Pali coast.

You can find your trip of a lifetime and whatever Hawaiian vacation information you need by visiting the Hawaii Travel Blog. Whether you are looking for Oahu vacation rentals or any other rentals in Hawaii, you can make sure that your vacation will fabulous and will help to maintain these beautiful locations for many more generations to enjoy.

Early in our relationship, my husband and I used to find ourselves driving across country fairly regularly. There are a couple of reasons for this, none of which are interesting enough to go into here. Suffice it to say, that we’d load ourselves up in the car and we usually took our HUGE, over 100 pound, Doberman with us. We usually made these trips when our kids were visiting relatives in another state.

So off we’d go from one state to another to take care of some business or the other with our Doberman in tow. He was a pretty good traveler as long as he could come up between the front seats periodically and put his head in my husband’s lap. For the most part, all of the dogs we have ignore me completely.

More than once we found ourselves needing to stop for the night and not being able to find a place we could put the dog for the night. Many hotels are not at all interested in letting you bring your dog into the room with you. In fact, as we discovered, most didn’t like it at all. I should be embarrassed to admit this, but it was a long time ago so I will anyway. We found out that if we found a hotel/motel that had the room entrances from the outside and if we got a room towards the end of the line of rooms, we could slip the dog into the room unnoticed. We did actually do that on more than one occasion. It worked kinda okay as long as he stayed quiet, but with all the unfamiliar surroundings and noises usually weren’t very conducive to him relaxing and resting easy for the night. He always took his job of protecting us very seriously and this was a situation that called for him to be alert.

Needless to say, these late night cloak and dagger adventures of slipping a 120 pound Doberman into a motel room could have been avoided if only we’d known then to plan ahead and find a Pet Friendly Hotels. But then, we didn’t use the internet then to get information like that.

I’ve mentioned many times in this blog that I love to go places and see things. We have had some very nice trips and are planning another one coming up soon. We are not the best planners in the world. Maybe I should say I’m not the best planner in the world. I tend to fly by the seat of my pants and when we have gone places its often taking off on spontaneous Last Minute Holidays.

Last Minute Holidays don’t have to be expensive, disorganized or disappointing. In fact, to me the spontaneity of it is part of the fun. With the use of the internet it is so much easier to get out and take a spur of the minute vacation. You can make a phone call or click on a website and be off to an exotic location in a matter of hours. It also doesn’t have to break your bank to do it.

We have used all-inclusive resorts in the past for holiday get-aways. I really like that type of holiday for several reasons. One is that its so simple to plan. You can go to fabulous destinations with little more than a phone call to reserve an airline ticket and one to reserve a room in a resort. Everything else is taken care of and available through the all-inclusive resort. I love that.

One of my all time favorites was a trip to Mexico a couple of years ago. We stayed in an all-inclusive resort and it was one of the most stress-free and rejuvenating trips we have ever taken. The resort was glorious, the food fabulous and the scenery spectacular. We enjoyed a week there without having to do hardly any pre-planning. We just picked the place and we were taken care of for the entire duration of our stay. Last Minute Holidays are only getting easier to manage, less expensive and there are more exotic destinations available. All that’s left is to ask yourself, ‘Why not take off for a few days?’

I’m home again.

I realize that’s not earth shattering news to anyone. But I sure am glad to be home again.

I’ve been totally out of the loop over the last few days. I tried to get online when I got home and found that comcast was down due to a pretty nasty storm. So, I had to actually do some other things and wait until about an hour ago to resume my blogging addiction.

Life can be cruel like that!

This trip was a combination business/vacation trip. Every other vacation type trip we had planned for this summer fell through for one reason or the other. So my Beloved Curmudgeon decided since he had to go to northern Indiana for business, we should leave early and spend the weekend in Michigan on the St. Clair River. We enjoy going there ordinarily and we thought it would be relaxing and a nice, though short, get away.

We were wrong.

I’ll pass along some of the things I learned, or was reminded of, on this trip on the off-chance my experience may serve as a cautionary tale for someone else considering doing such a thing.

• Spending a long weekend in an uncomfortable truck driving (bone jarring bouncing really) seemingly endless miles can and probably will result in a couple becoming irritable. There is a distinct posibility that the level of irritability is directly proportional to the number of miles driven … in the pouring rain. There is a definite probability that once the irritability reaches critical mass the couple will start focusing it on each other.

• Driving 1,000 miles to sit in a cottage on a river with in-laws (whom I like very much - for the record) and lots of wet long-haired dogs for a day and a half while it pours rain outside is not relaxing.

• Spending a day driving to northern Indiana so we can swing by there to take care of some business on Monday morning on the way home is not ON THE WAY HOME!

• There is an unwritten law that anything that might be physically wrong with you will decide to flare up as soon as you are out of town. For example, if you have a tooth that is fixing to need a root canal, it will let you know that it needs a root canal the minute you leave town and are in a position that you can not attend to it for several days. Another example might be that if you have had a badly sprained ankle in the last couple of months, deciding to walk in flip-flops on an uneven surface into ‘town’ to shop is NOT a good idea and will result in the ankle hurting again and swelling back up a little.

• Grabbing a few DVD movies as we walked out of the door to take along was one of the best ideas I had and did help pass a few of the endless hours in the truck. I made a note to myself to remember to do that anytime we take a car trip again. Please note I said CAR trip - there will not be another TRUCK trip.

• A ‘vacation’ riding in a bouncy truck for 4 days, in the rain, with a tooth ache leads to one becoming irrationally irritable and thinking of dropping the Beloved off Beloved Curmudgeon permanently. His irritability was even more irrational as I’m absolutely certain there was nothing I might have done to deserve it (angelic smile).

• The traffic jam in downtown Detroit at 2 in the morning after 14 hours of driving/riding/bouncing in that @*$#@&# truck really wasn’t your spouces fault. Neither was the traffic back-up in Indianapolis on the way back. So take a deep breath and let it go.

• After all that, it sure is nice to walk into your own home, knowing your own bed is there just waiting for you to crawl into it and finally get a good nights sleep. Until you notice your dogs have chewed up a throw rug in the den and are running around excitedly in circles demanding attention cause they are so happy to see their daddy home (they ignore me unless he’s not here and they want treats or food).

• Lastly, ignoring all the mess in the house and washing away the road dirt in a long hot shower helps cleanse the mind of any lingering nasty little, not quite homicidal thoughts swirling around in the brain while bouncing down the endless miles of the expressway in the pouring rain.

Best of all, now my Beloved Curmudgeon is making sure he is earning credits to make up for this ill-conceived notion of ‘why don’t you go with me and we’ll make a long weekend out of it and go to the cottage and just swing by Indiana on the way back home.’

All’s well that ends well ….

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Previous posts on marital bliss:

• Gypsy, Tramps and Thieves
• Brief Thoughts on Marital Bliss
• Addendum to Marital Bliss
• Brief Thoughts on Marital Bliss
• Who’s in (remote) Control?
• Addendum to a Fierce Blow
• We’re Having a Fierce Blow

I’m heading up north for a long weekend. I’m going to be on an island, sitting by the river, watching the freighters and ships go by and doing some serious chilling out. I hope everybody has a great weekend.

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So What’s Everybody Talking About?

August 18 - 20, 2006

Just link and trackback to this post. Nothing to it but to do it.

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While we were in New Mexico this week, my Beloved Curmudgeon and I decided to go see Bandelier National Monument.

I think it was the word ‘Monument’ that threw me off. I was expecting a ‘monument’. A statue or something like that to look at.

Also, in my defense, I will say that it was a spur of the moment decision to go and since it was a ‘monument’ I didn’t think to change clothes or shoes before we went.

Up until that day, actually up until the moment we set off on this adventure, the weather in New Mexico had been great. No problems. It was something like 89 degrees, but felt like 70 degrees. To a Southerner who is used to 90% humidity it felt cool.

However, once we took off into the wilderness (and I do mean wilderness) to find the Bandelier National Monument, the clouds turned dark and there was suddenly a cold (and I do mean COLD) rain. Pouring rain.

The temperature dropped to 50 degrees in what seemed like minutes. There was hail and sleet and the biggest drops of rain I have ever seen in my life.

Being from the South, as soon as the hail started hitting the car I thought, ‘TORNADO’! If you are familiar at all with the New Mexico landscape, you might can imagine how this little Southern heart sank when I looked around for shelter from the tornado that in my mind was certainly in the vicinity.

There was nothing. NOTHING! As far as the eye could see. And the eye can see a very long distance in that area.

When we got to the park and were coughing up the entrance fee, I asked the Park Ranger about tornados. She said they don’t have tornados there. Much to my Beloved Curmudgeon’s amusement, I unthinkingly responded, ‘But it’s hailing’. She looked out of her little building and then looked at me and said flatly, ‘yes it is’. Period.

Okay, they don’t have tornados there.

We proceeded into the park and towards what I thought would be a ‘monument’. I think the winding, very high road would have been spectacular had we been able to see the view. But it was pouring so hard and the sound of the hail pelting the car was so loud all I could think about was not running off the road.

As a little aside here. If I ever get nervous about running off the edge of one of those really high windy roads around here My Beloved Curmudgeon always reassures me by telling me that the forest is so thick the trees would catch you before you got very far down.

There are very few trees on the Northern New Mexico mountains. There is nothing between you and the very steep, very far drop off just beside the road and shoulder of very loose dirt. I did think of that a time or two during this trek over the mountain.

On to Bandelier.

When we winded around enough we finally got to the visitors center. We sat in the car and looked at it. There were signs that we could see through the rain about the start of a hiking trail.

Hiking trail!!!!I like hiking trails, but not in heels. [see 2nd & 3rd paragraph] And not when it’s pouring freezing huge pelts of rain when I am dressed in summer slacks and a flimsy, sheer shirt covering a thin shell top.

So we sat there.Beloved Curmudgeon was beginning to live up to his moniker, the curmudgeon part. I was thinking we drove all this way, paid to get in and now we are going to sit in the car and look at a building through the rain. I was getting a little not so nice myself, hard to believe I know.

I determined that I would buy a sweatshirt if they sold them in the gift shop and suffer with cold feet. I accepted my heels would be ruined. So we went in.

They did have sweatshirts (at $50 each). We browsed around the gift shop a little and as we were getting ready to leave the rain stopped and the sun came out! I put the $50 sweatshirt back on the shelf.

There was a couple standing under a shelter just outside the gift shop. They were supervising a group of about 15 pre-teens who seemed to be on some sort of school outing.

At the very moment I opened the door of the gift shop, the man of the couple firmly chastised the youth group by saying, ‘Settle down, y’all are acting like a bunch of wild Indians.’ Actually, I think he said ‘you guys’ instead of ‘y’all’. He had a distinct mid-western accent.

The two 20-something young women behind the gift shop counter looked up, the man looked chagrined and I stifled laughter.

Neither of the 20-something young women looked wild in the least, but they were certainly Indian.

A good thing about New Mexico is that when it quits raining, it really quits. It almost instantaneously dried up. It was like it hadn’t been raining at all and there was no lingering humidity. It literally immediately cleared up and dried out.

We sat out on the trail. High heels and all.

I commented to my Beloved Curmudgeon that it was very thoughtful of these pre-historic Indians to set out such nice, easy to walk on trails for us. Not only that, but periodically there were adobe/cement benches for us to sit on. Beloved Curmudgeon just condescendingly said, ‘uh huh.’ He doesn’t think I’m nearly as funny as I think I am!

When we got to the top of the highest point the path would go, I just had to climb up one of the ladders into one of the caves in which the Anasazi people lived.

One doesn’t drive that far, braving the elements, then hike that far and climb that high in heels and not take the next step of climbing into one of the caves.

So I kicked off my heels and climbed the ladder in my stocking feet. I crawled around inside the cave and explored as far as I could.

When I was leaving and approached the opening of the cave, the massive mountains across the valley came into view. They were very high and I suddenly realized I could see the top of them from my crouched position inside the cave.

I had one thought in my head. ‘!!!!!!!!!!’. That was it. ‘!!!!!!!!!!’, I thought.

It’s one thing to get up there; it’s a whole other thing to get DOWN.

I went to the opening of the cave and looked down at the hiking trail. There wasn’t a soul in sight. Most notably, my Beloved Curmudgeon was not in sight.

As aggravated as I get with him from time to time. At times like this I really want him to be there. So I carefully scooted closer to the edge until I was close enough to look straight down. One has to look straight down to see the very vertical ladder one had just climbed up (like the fool one is at times).

I had a momentary lapse of reason and hoped he’d be standing at the bottom of the ladder waiting to help me down. He wasn’t. No one was there. Just that very vertical hand made wooden ladder.

Again, my only thought was,‘!!!!!!!!!!!!’.

I’ve lived long enough and gotten into enough jams to know that it’s best not to give this sort of thing too much thought. Thinking about it only exacerbates any feelings of panic and panic exacerbates the difficulty of the situation.

So without thinking anything else, I flipped around and felt with my toes for the ladder. Looking back I should have taken my trouser socks off - but never the less, I got down fine and jogged down the trail to find Beloved Curmudgeon. He was waiting for me on one of those convenient adobe/cement benches by the trail.

The Bandelier National Monument really is a fabulous site to see.The fact that this cave dwelling pueblo was built between the 1100s - 1400s makes it even more remarkable.

If you ever get the chance I highly recommend it, just don’t wear high heels.

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linked to: Third World County; Mark My Words; Pursuing Holiness; The Pirate’s Cove

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Almost 50 years ago, 9 people (my immediate family plus my paternal grandparents) piled into a Nash Rambler station wagon, with a 10′ fully-enclosed trailer—built by my grandfather and used annually by him for the Big Hunt with his seven brothers on the family ranch ourside Brownwood Texas—towed behind. Where did we head out for on our 2-week camping tour?

Bendelier and Mesa Verde.

Once of two really outstanding, memorable vacations of my youth.

Thanks for twigging those memories!

David
http://thirdworldcounty.us/

I have just returned from the Great Southwestern United States.

After 12 hours of driving, flying, shuttling, turning in rented cars, checking out of hotels, sitting crammed in a seat between two other people on a full plane, lugging luggage around, etc. one would think I would just zone out.

Instead, as tired as I am, I made a bee line to my computer to check things out.

I’ve made a few quick, but astute, observations.

1. The Truth Laid Bear has a new look and my stats have plummeted while I’ve been gone. I’m down with that ….. kinda …..
2. My guest blogger, The Median Sib, did not do her job while I was away. She failed miserably. The fact that I didn’t have her guest account set up correctly and she couldn’t access this blog is irrelevant. That would be Bush’s fault.
3. I have 842 spam comments caught in the spam catcher thing for penis enlargement. For whoever is sending those and whoever might care, I don’t have a penis and am not interested in your products. Please cease and desist.
4. Also caught by the spam comment catcher thing are over 1000 comments for online casinos, phentemine and various other pharmaceutical goodies. Not even counting ‘beautiful Asian girls’. Again, please cease and desist.
5. To Jim, Joe, Susie, Mary, Sally and whatever name you put on your little comments that say, ‘I just found your site, it’s fantastic. Visit mine at www. your an idiot if you click on this link . com’. Those comments weren’t caught by the comment spam catcher thing. Aren’t you clever! It’s going to take me half the night to delete them all. Go away.
6. Last, but certainly not least, with the time difference in New Mexico I missed this weeks Survivor episode. I made a point of being in the hotel room at 8 pm on Thursday night, but apparently they show it at 7 pm there. Someone could have told me I missed getting to see Shane kicked off Survivor. That ruins the whole season for me. I really would have enjoyed seeing him kicked off … the big baby.
7. Oh, one more thing. My blog took forever to load onto my Treo - I’m going to change my template again

So, now it’s time to catch up on what’s going on somewhere besides my own blog :)

 

bis später

Beth is traveling with her beloved curmudgeon, and I promised to cross-post to BLUE STAR CHRONICLES.  However, I’ve only just been able to finally logon to write.  Sorry for the two-day delay.  I’ve got two more days till she gets back.  So let’s see how much havoc I can wreak before she gets back.     Stayed tuned. . .

I’m going to be loving the American Southwest the next few days. Fill free to track back here while I’m away.

Meanwhile you might want to check out:

Basil’s Blog has a Caption Contest

Hillbilly White Trash is wondering what’s behind the well-organized, well-attended demonstrations Monday. {Also, he’s got a voting contest going on for an Oh-fish-ale Anthem for the Hillbilly Ecosystem - join up and vote!}. He says some kinda smart stuff sometimes.

Amboy Times has a fascinating round-up of blog reviews of United 93.

Big White Hat writes about Autism, Life and Liberty.

A Mom and Her Blog went to a Country Fest (she might fit in at the Hillbilly Ecosystem?)

Hooah Wife gives some blogging advise over at The Cotillion.

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Out of town open trackback for

Wednesday and Thursday - May 3 - 4, 2006

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Disclaimer: trackbacks to this post do not necessarily represent the opinions or standards of the Blue Star Chronicles.

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Others with Open Trackbacks: Third World County; Outside the Beltway; Freedom Watch; Conservative Cat; The Median Sib; Basil’s Blog; TMH’s Bacon Bits