Midland Uke Fest 2019 – A Different Way to Spend a Long Weekend


This past weekend was the first of Canada’s long weekends, Victoria Day Weekend. We spent most of it doing something we love, and the last day recovering! For those of you who are not musically inclined and/or have never tried playing a ukulele, you might not understand, but you’d be amazed at how many people have taken it up. Jim and I have been involved for about six years, having begun our first winter in Arizona because free classes were offered at our RV Park. In my last post I wrote about going to a one-day ukulele workshop in Salt Lake City on our way home, but we’ve never attended a full weekend festival before.

It began with us packing some belongings and a bit of food into the motorhome and then striking out on a three-hour drive to Midland, Ontario, a small city north of Barrie. This trip was uneventful; well, after we stopped at the first stop sign at the end of our street and we heard a crash and I looked back to see the closet door swung wide open. Upon inspection I discovered that the clips that hold the mirror into the door had disengaged, allowing the mirror to slide down far enough to prevent the door catch from working. While we sat blocking traffic behind us, Jim got out a screw driver to remedy the problem and we were soon on our way. It wouldn’t be a motorhome adventure without some little glitch!

Once we arrived at Smith’s Campground and got set up, we contacted the rest of our group, who were arriving by cars and staying at the nearby hotel. Donna, Linda and Michael picked us up for the drive downtown to the Midland Cultural Centre (MCC) where we met with Julie and Lynda, who had opted to walk. After we were all registered and made a few purchases at the Vendor Stand, we quieted our rumbling stomachs at a nearby restaurant, and then walked down to the Warf where the Miss Midland was waiting for ukulele enthusiasts from near and far to fill her seats and share some music while enjoying the tour around some of Muskoka-Georgian Bay’s 30,000 islands.

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On board we met three lovely young women who sported ukuleles shaped like fruit – pineapple, watermelon and kiwi. They call themselves the Fruity Ukuladies and are YouTube stars. Jim taught them Spanish Melody. We would see much more of them over the next two days.

Thanks to Linda for doing the video. I think she got a little too into the music!
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Nearly three hours later all seven of us members of the Hastings Ukulele Band (HUB) squeezed into Donna’s little red car to return to the hotel, where a Pyjama Jam Session was taking place. On the way we made a stop at our campsite so I could pick up my ukulele. I’m sure our neighbours, who were sitting outside, couldn’t believe their eyes when we all climbed out of the car, and then back in with a couple of bags in hand! We never did get to talk to them to explain what we were up to.

The Pyjama Jam was loads of fun, even though many of us got lost on some unfamiliar chords. It was 12:00 am by the time our friends were ready to call it a night and let us retrieve the belongings we’d left in their room. Then Jim and I had to walk what seemed like a mile or so back to our spot in the campground. The air had turned cold and we hadn’t turned the furnace on before we left, so it took a while to get settled down to sleep, and we had a full day of challenging workshops the next day.

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Pyjama Jam

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Michael and Linda Enjoying the Jam

We were a little slow getting around in morning and missed our ride back downtown with the rest of our group. They were out early and down to the waterfront for a walk while we ate bagels in our motorhome before starting our trek down the hill. We were about half-way to the MCC when a mother and her daughter took a chance and offered us a ride. They figured that two older people carrying ukuleles should pose no threat and they were heading to the same place. We were very grateful!

The morning was filled with a welcome and introductions of our workshop leaders, followed by Uke Mania – a mass jam session for all attendees, and finally an hour and a half workshop presented by a Canadian Uke legend, Chalmers Doane and his daughter. What a source of knowledge and inspiration!

Chalmers Doane and Family (don’t know why this shows upside down, but if you  click on it it will right itself)

After lunch at the in-house Café Roxy, we each ventured off to our chosen 3 or 4 workshops throughout the afternoon. There was so much to choose from – simple chord music, playing by ear, more complicated chording, scales and tabbing and strum styles. It was difficult to decide what would be most beneficial to each of us, but we gave it a shot, and came away with many new things to practice. The biggest lesson was to practice, practice, practice, something that I don’t do nearly often enough. Most of us skipped the fourth workshop and relaxed in the lounge to wait for the diehards, Jim and Donna.

After dinner, we (HUB) performed two songs at the Open Mic and were pleased to be well received, but many of the performers who followed (some young school age kids) blew us away with their talent. Made me wish I’d been introduced to ukulele at that age.

HUB at Midland

If that wasn’t enough, from 8:30 to 10:30 there was an All Star Concert for us to sit and enjoy. These semi-professional to professional, and Emmy Award winning ukulele players, who had been our instructors throughout the day, showed us just what can really be done with a ukulele! You had to be there to believe it!

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There was another Pyjama Jam back at the hotel on that, the last night, but I was happy to learn that Jim was just as tired as I was. We asked to be dropped off at our campsite, where we weren’t long climbing into bed with lights out. zzz

We heard from Donna that she’d stayed at the jam until 2:30 when it finally broke up.

On Sunday morning there was one last jam back at the MCC, lasting only an hour and ending with picture taking, hugs and goodbyes to all our new friends.

A big thank you to all of the many volunteers who make the Midland Uke Fest an annual event. We hope to see you again next year!

Winter is Over: Heading Home through Northern Arizona, Utah and Then …


Sedona Arizona

We had a busy winter; we had a sad winter. We got to know some new friends better; we lost a few old ones. I played a lot of pickle ball and a little ukulele; Jim played a lot of ukulele and a little pickleball. At the end of last week, that all came to an end, and we said our goodbyes.

Monday was our planned day to be back on the road, hoping to reach Page Arizona before nightfall, but our time was uncertain because we had an early morning appointment to have a spark plug replaced on the motor home and we had no idea how long it would take or how much it would cost. We dropped it off at 8:00 a.m, walked the short distance back to our park, stopping at the little restaurant to have some breakfast. By the time we’d gone to the park office to check out and pay any remaining fees, and chatted with a number of friends and neighbours that we ran into along the way, Jim got a call that the motorhome was done and the cost was only $96! We were off to a good start.

That soon changed when we found ourselves sitting on Highway 17 with many others, including several motorhomes, waiting for an accident way up the road to be cleared. An hour and a half later, we were moving again. We’d taken advantage of the stop to grab some food out of the fridge and cupboard for a light lunch.

It was smooth sailing from then until we were making our way into downtown Sedona where we were in awe of the different view of the red mountains from our previous trips through from another direction.

Suddenly traffic was stopped because of another traffic accident, but that interruption lasted only ten or fifteen minutes. We decided to walk around the upper part of town, joining the many other tourists. We’d never done that before.  It took a while to find a place to park the motor home, and we ended up taking a chance by parking in a fifteen minute parking zone.

We walked both sides of the street and took many pictures before finding a casual little place to have something more to eat before striking out again. It had some humorous signs on the walls.

Outlaw Grill

Curvy Roads

The idea of reaching Page was long gone. We settled in a KOA in Flagstaff instead. We were both tired.

Jim spent some time trying to find us a spot at a campsite near Zion National Park for Tuesday night, the first major stop on our bucket list. He went to bed disappointed. I was disappointed too, not only for that reason, but because the hinge on the kitchen drawer broke completely and now the silver-ware drawer rides on the floor under the table. 🙂

In the morning he had better luck. By 9:30 we were on the road once more, our destination St. George, Utah, just a short drive away from Zion.

We had a good trip and were amazed at the colours and formations of the rocky terrain we witness as we travelled up Hwy 89 and 89A through Arizona and into Utah.

We saw several signs telling of Cliff Dwellers, but this is all we saw:

We stopped for lunch at this quaint little place that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, in the desert, but it was popular and served us a delicious lunch of homemade soup and chicken wings.

This sign told the truth


And the further north we went, the more interesting the landscape became, right into Utah.

Bridges over Colorado River at Glenn Canyon site of historical Lees Ferry, now gone
People travelling along the river in inflatable boats

Then we were climbing up, up to 8,000 feet or more and began to see the leftover snow on the sides of the tree covered hills.

It was all very exhilarating.

We bypassed Page and went straight into St. George to find the RV Park. Driving through the city was the most tiring part of the day, probably because it had already been a long day. We were happy to find that it was a good spot, although we got the only remaining site and had to choose between being fairly level or being able to connect the sewer hose. We decided we could live without the sewer hose for one more night and chose to be level, unlike the night before when it was very difficult to walk without tipping backwards or sideways.

The next morning we were up early and on the road to Zion National Park.

Why I Don’t Like Flying Anymore


I don’t think I’m the only one who finds air travel to be more stressful than it used to be. Although some things are much simpler now if you are technology savvy, like purchasing your ticket online, checking in using an App and having your Boarding Pass sent to your smart phone or tablet, the rules as to what you can and can’t take in your carry-on bag seem to differ at each airport, and with different passengers. I find myself holding my breath as I go through inspection, wondering if there will be something I’ve missed that could raise an alarm.

I don’t know if it’s just a coincidence, but Kelowna International Airport, the one I fly into and sometimes out of when I go to visit Kaslo, has been the only one where I feel like I’m being targeted. In the past ten or twelve years that I’ve been making that trip I’ve been chosen for a pat-down twice. That didn’t bother me much. But this last trip really raised my heart rate.

For all these years I’ve been aware of the size limit on any types of liquids that we can transport in our carry-on bags, and I’ve complied. I remember seeing staff offering us plastic bags for such liquids, but I didn’t know that they were mandatory. I understood that the liquids had to be seen through the scanner, but I had mine all carefully labelled and placed in the plastic enclosures of the travel/cosmetic bag and I was never questioned. Usually I’ve had the bag rolled up, inside my carry-on, and no one ever asked to see it; but this time, because my carry-on was a little too deep on my last trip and was difficult to fit into the plane’s overhead bins, I laid the bag out flat across everything else inside. I also had another small bag with clear plastic inside pouches, into which I placed all the little items that I usually put into the bigger pocket of that bag.Was that the difference?

Cosmetic Bag

Cosmetic Bag

 

When I went through Security in Toronto, the scanner found something they weren’t sure about it and my case was opened. The inspector looked through my travel/cosmetic bag and found, in the larger, non-plastic pocket, my tube of Facial Cleanser. This was the one item that I’d forgotten to check for the size. It was an ounce too large. The Inspector was nice about it. She determined that it wasn’t quite full and allowed me to take it this time, but warned me that I wouldn’t be allowed to take it in my carry-on again. “You can take it in your checked baggage though.” I thanked her and said “I don’t have any checked baggage.” No mention was made of any of the other little bottles and tubes that were in the bag.

So when I was getting ready for my return trip, out of Kelowna, I went to a dollar store and bought a few little plastic jars. I squeezed all of my Facial Cleanser into two of them, and labelled them. Then I notice that a tube of hand cream (which I think I’d had in my “personal” bag before) was also a little too large, so I squeezed what remained of it into the third jar.

I checked the website and surmised that the reason for the plastic bags (which they don’t offer unsolicited anymore) was so that any bottles and tubes could be seen with the scanner. OK.  I spread my travel/cosmetic bag out in the top of my carry-on again, this time with the inside showing and I thought I’d be good.

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At security my carry-on was immediately pulled aside as soon as it went through the scanner. I thought that maybe it couldn’t recognize the pottery tumbler that my daughter had given me, wrapped up in a pair of shorts.

Pottery Tumbler

Pottery Tumbler

“No,” the Inspector said. “There’s something liquid.”

She pulled out my travel kit and, interestingly, opened the pocket where the too-large tube had been when I left Toronto. It wasn’t there of course, but she told me that all my “liquids” had to be put into the little plastic bag that she provided.

“Obviously they aren’t all going to fit, so you have two options. You can go back out and check this bag (for $25) or pick out what you want to keep and I’ll pack what I can into the bag.”

I’m a senior, living on a basic Government Pension that wouldn’t pay my basic living expenses if I had to do it alone, but I do try to pay for my personal expenses, including an annual trip to see my family. My budget is limited. I shop around and plan my trip upon seat-sales. Since extra charges have been added for baggage, early seat selection and anything to eat other than crackers, chips or cookies, I avoid those to save money. I’d already forgotten to bring the packed lunch my friend had prepared for me,  so I knew it was going to cost me $10.00 to buy a sandwich on the plane. I wasn’t about to dish out another $25 to check my bag.

I picked out the items that were of the most value and she put them into the bag. Then she filled it up with all of the little sample tubes of things that I really didn’t care about, including a nearly empty tube of toothpaste. I had to give up a bottle of body lotion, the hand lotion that I’d carefully squeezed into the small jar, and nothing else of any significance. I realized later that one bottle left behind was already empty and I could have kept it for another time!

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It was a good thing that I gotten to the airport very early. I wasn’t happy.

I was even more annoyed when my seat companions on the plane arrived. As soon as she sat down, the woman pulled a little cosmetic bag from her over-sized purse and took out a tube of sanitizer to wipe down their trays. The bag was crammed with all sorts of makeup items. Why was SHE allowed to carry them on without being in a plastic bag?

I wonder, do I have a record now? Can I expect this every time I fly from now on? Does it have anything to do with my last name – Lawless? Ha, ha.

When they came by to ask if we wanted anything to eat, I had to ask what the options were and the plane was so noisy, I couldn’t hear the response. She seemed annoyed.

“It’s listed in the menu.”

“I don’t have a menu.” The woman next to me looked and she didn’t have one either. She told the hostess that I couldn’t hear her.

“Fiesta chicken wrap..”

“I’ll take that.”

By that time I was so flustered that I handed her a debit card instead of a credit card. She handed it back. Once everyone was served she came back and handed me a menu. “I know you don’t need it now for a meal, but maybe you might want a snack or something later.” Thanks.

 

Memoir Monday – Blind Dates


I was twenty years old and sharing a loft apartment in Toronto with my friend Carol. Carol was working for a travel company. I was working for an insurance
company. Carol began dating a fellow named Chris, who was originally from Jamaica. Because I wasn’t seeing anyone at the time Chris felt it his duty to find me a boyfriend, and so began a procession of men of various backgrounds.

The only thing I remember of the first one is that as he approached the car when the three of us went to pick him up at his apartment building I turned to Carol and
said, “My God he’s too old!” He was smartly dressed in a shirt and tie and dress pants, but I couldn’t get past his obvious age difference. Chris said he was Greek. I don’t remember his name. I don’t remember where we went or what we did. It was not a memorable evening.

Then there was Norbert the Norwegian. He was tall and blonde, very good looking. Chris brought him over to our apartment one summer evening. After we all chatted
for a bit Norbert asked me if I’d like to go out with him for a coffee. Being naive, I agreed. The place he chose was a hotel coffee shop and it wasn’t long before the topic of conversation turned to sex and he was suggesting we go upstairs to get a room. I wasn’t that naive! He finally agreed to drive me home, but he said he had to pick up a few groceries along the way and drop them off at his apartment. He thought I should go in with him. I waited in the car. When he came back he told me to close my eyes, then he touched my lips with his finger and I opened my eyes. He took me home.

Next came Simon, a young Chinese fellow. Simon was alright I think. Again I don’t remember much about our double date with Carol and Chris. Chris must have brought him to our apartment, and I guess Simon thought that after that we were dating, because the very next night he showed up at our door expecting to spend the evening with me. Carol was studying for an exam she had to take at work the next day and was not impressed with Simon’s presence in our small space. I finally had to ask him to leave. I never heard from him again.

The next weekend Chris had a friend visiting him from Jamaica and thought he and I would make a good match. We all got dressed up and went out on the town. Bernard was tall and broad shouldered and very black. He grinned a sparkling white smile when he saw me in my rather short dress. Like I said, I was naive. We weren’t in the car for five minutes until he was urging me to sit closer to him. He played with the necklace around my neck and kept trying to feel me up. I spent the whole evening pushing him away. We went to one night club where everyone was black. I was the only very white person in the place, Carol being of Chinese descent with light brown skin. All eyes seemed to be on me and I wasn’t sure what the attitude was about me being there with a black man. It was 1970 and such things were still a rarity. After a couple of dances, we left. Back at our place pictures were taken and Bernard took every opportunity to snuggle up to me. I was so relieved when they finally left.

Not long after that Carol and Chris broke up and I didn’t have to suffer through any more blind dates, for awhile at least.

Taking a Break


Thank you to all of my new and older followers. I appreciate you taking the journey with me.

Due to all the sadness that has been happening around the world, especially those that have personal connection to us through our friends and family, I’ve been struggling to focus on writing for the past week. I find that doing physical things, like playing Pickleball, are the only things that help me get through the day. So I’m going to take a break from writing for a few days. Hope to see you again soon.❤️

Memoir Monday – Traveling with New Technology


These days flying paperless is as common to me as taking my own shopping bags to the grocery story. I now have many electronic devices that I can use, but it wasn’t that long ago that I did it for the first time. This is what I wrote about this adventure in 2012.

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Traveling with New Technology

I’ve made the trip from Toronto to Vancouver many times, but this time was different. This time I was determined to go “paperless” by using my newly acquired iPad to get me through the gate.

At the self-check-in kiosk, a quick scan of the code displayed on the iPad screen produced my printed baggage ticket. I needed no paper boarding pass. At the baggage counter the code was scanned from the iPad again, and I was given my boarding gate number. Boarding would start at 11:00, I was told.

I flashed my iPad Boarding Pass at the first stop on the way into the security area. The young man’s surprise was evident. “Look at you!” he said. I smiled, thinking “not bad for a grey-haired lady.”

At the security desk I handed over the iPad once more, but the technology was as new to the man receiving it as it was to me. We both held our breath and sighed in unison when the scan took.

I removed my shoes as requested, and walked through the scanner with no problem – so far so good. Now what gate was that? I retrieved my belongings, and quickly skimmed the overhead monitor until I saw a flight to Vancouver, leaving from Gate C26. Without confirming the flight number (I’d had only a few hours’ sleep and my brain often lets me down when I’m tired), I found a seat at Gate C26, the last one to the left. At 10:45 I made a final pit stop and sat back down to wait for the boarding call. On the board behind the desk I could see the flight to Vancouver listed. I squinted. It looked like flight 475, but I was too far away to make out the time. I looked at my Boarding Pass once more. When, at 11:10 I’d heard no mention made of the Vancouver flight, I figured a closer look at the board was warranted. “Flight 475 to Vancouver leaving at 1:00,” it read. What?! Suddenly my sleepy brain sprang to life. This wasn’t my flight!

A more careful check of my Boarding Pass revealed that my flight number was 465! I was at the wrong gate! I rushed to the monitor and saw that I was to be at C27, but where was that? The only thing that I could see beyond Gate C26 was a Tim Horton’s. Logic told me that C27 had to be past C26, so I started speed-walking in that direction, my over-night bag bouncing on its wheels behind me.

“Last call for boarding of flight 465 to Vancouver at gate C27,” blasted over the air. I ran, still not seeing my gate.

Finally, there appeared before me a large sign and arrow “C27.” Panic and embarrassment were replaced by relief when I rounded the corner and saw some other stragglers approaching the gate. I wasn’t the last to board.

I admit that if I had really been iPad savvy, I would have made a mental note of the gate number on my electronic Boarding Pass, before putting my iPad away, or looked more closely at the monitor. As for traveling with new technology, it’s amazing! Like anything new, it just takes practice.

Setting Goals


Today I’m beginning a blogging course through WordPress Blogging University with the purpose of increasing my audience and posting more regularly. My first assignment is to Set Three Goals. Here they are:

  1. Establish a new weekly theme and publish on the given day until the end of 2018, minimum. Memoir Mondays
  2. Publish at least one more post a week for the next six months.
  3. Spend one hour each week visiting my follower’s blogs, reading, and commenting from today until the end of June.

Sites of El Paso and the End of the Journey


We’ve been in Mesa Regal for two weeks now, and I’m finally getting this post done. Because of competition for internet connection, I decided the only time I was going to be able to get the photos added was to work during the night. So here I am.

We finally got our windshield replaced on Monday, November 6th and were on the road by early afternoon. Once we got back into New Mexico, Jim searched out a State Trooper, hoping to file an Accident Report, but he told us it was too late. However, after seeing how upset Jim was, he offered to give our “friend” Mark a call and try to mediate a settlement. It turned out that Quality Towing was on the rotation in that part of New Mexico, so Mark was a little worried when he got the call. However, he first said he didn’t remember the accident, then had a great excuse as to why he wasn’t paying – “They wanted me to pay for their accommodations, and food as well as the windshield!” We sat with our mouths hanging open. Sure, he should by rights pay for the extra days at the RV Park, but we’d never mentioned that. The insurance company just might, though. Anyway, he finally agreed to have Jim call him to work out a settlement. Before we stopped for the day, Mark called us and asked Jim for a mailing address. He said he’d have a cheque for the window in the mail the next day. As of the date of this posting, the cheque still has not arrived. Fortunately the insurance company paid for all but our deductible, but we had hoped to get that back and pay the insurance company back. Enough of that saga.

While we were in El Paso, Shawn introduced us to many things that we would never have seen if we hadn’t been stranded in the city. As I mentioned before, he checked on us every day of our twelve day stay, and when he learned that we were not yet leaving, he took us out. One day was spent searching for a windshield wiper without success, followed by lunch and grocery shopping; another was spent trying to find someone to weld a very small spot on our old wiper after Jim had managed to fix it to work. Shawn saved the day when he thought of a friend who works for Job Corps. We took it there and had the job done by a student in no time flat!

On other days we saw the highlights of El Paso:

We drove up the mountain to view the city of 700,000

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We visited the Chamizal National Monument

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Cool Murals on the Outside Walls

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Jim and Shawn

Chamizal National Monument (6)

Interesting that the US and Mexican Gov’ts could come to an agreement

US-Mexico Border

The sculpture in the distance marks the US-Mexico border

We peeked through the gates of Southwest University Park, a fairly new Baseball Field that is seldom used, Shawn told us.

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We toured some of the History Museum

history museum digital wall

A moving history lesson on the wall, controlled by the observer

History Museum Digital Wall

We had our picture digitally taken and emailed to our friend in Cincinnati

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A very Antique Fire Engine

We strolled through Concordia Cemetery, the oldest cemetery in El Paso. It was the Week of the Dead, following Halloween, a time when people visit and decorate the graves of their loved ones, and there are often parades through the cemeteries, but this one had few visitors. Except for the Monument to the Buffalo Soldiers, it looked to be abandoned.

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Donators to the Buffalo Soldiers Memorial

Donators to the Buffalo Soldiers Memorial

We spent a good portion of another day enjoying the warm sun while walking through the very modern campus of the University of Texas El Paso (UTEL).

University of Texas El Paso Campus

Beautiful Buildings

Lovely Parks

Lovely Parks

University of Texas El Paso Campus, plants

Interesting Plants. Who knows what this is, at the base of a palm tree?

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By Sunday, Shawn’s wife was home and she and her mother met us downtown in the afternoon at the Art Museum where we found many interesting works of art, especially the Day of the Dead collages created by students from many of the local schools, mostly commemorating deceased music artists.

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We stopped into the Ysleta Mission, located in the Ysleta del Sur Pueblo. It is recognized as the oldest continuously operated parish in the State of Texas.

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On the way back to our “home”, at Jim’s suggestion, we stopped into the largest Harley Davidson Store in the country. I think we got Shawn dreaming of riding down the highway with the wind in his hair.

Again we expressed thanks to Shawn. We really did enjoy seeing the city through his eyes, and he said he enjoyed learning a thing or two about Canada. It worked out well. But by Monday we were ready to be on the road again.

Year Five of Our Trips to Arizona – Continuing the Journey Part 2


After our stroll around the Camp Washington property, and chatting with our RV neighbours, Lisa and Vicky, and the maintenance guy, it was 10:30 before we left to go back to the Caverns. We spent a couple of hours taking our time and taking pictures on the 1¼ mile walk down to the bottom, doing the self-guided tour. Trying to capture the beauty was difficult without more sophisticated equipment, but we did our best. It’s amazing!

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By the time we reached the bottom it was well past lunch time and we’d worked up good appetites, so we took advantage of the sandwiches and drinks that could be purchased in the only area where food was permitted. We wanted to continue touring the 8.2 acre “big room” but decided, since it would take another hour and a half to explore its perimeter, we would have to return another time. We were anxious to get to El Paso so we could touch base with the glass company and the tow truck driver and get the windshield repaired.

When we got back down to the highway and saw a sign telling us that there were no services for the next 138 miles, Jim pulled into the only gas station around to top up our tank. That shouldn’t have taken long, but a while earlier there had been a gas spill there and the pumps had been turned off. We had to wait until the manager returned to reset them!

At last we were headed back south at 2:30 pm. The scenery was boring with nothing but  dry, empty fields for miles and miles. The sun shone bright and hot through the front windows.

Desolate road

Desolate road

The battery on our Bluetooth speaker had died  so we could listen to no music – no radio stations, no cell service, just desolation. By the time we arrived at Mission RV Park in El Paso at 5:00 local time, we were both out of sorts. The sun reflecting on the windshield cracks (which had spread further) made it difficult for Jim to see where he was going to find our spot. I had a major tension headache. When Jim checked in he asked how far it was to the nearest restaurant. Five miles! Across the highways! But they did have take-out menus for a Chinese Restaurant and a Pizza House. After a heated discussion we settled on an order from the Chinese Restaurant. Jim tried to order from his phone; it wouldn’t work. Before that he’d tried to put the slide out; it didn’t work. Hence the “heated discussion” over what to eat for dinner! I called in the order. The menu was very confusing and we ended up with enough food to last us for three meals, which was a good thing, since we were miles away from a grocery store and had no idea how long we’d be here.

The next day Jim called the glass place (Safelite), only to be told that none of their suppliers had our windshield and there was nothing they could do for us. We wondered if that meant the motor home would be written off because the windshield couldn’t be replaced! One reason we chose this RV Park is because it has an RV Repair Shop and the windshield wiper also needed to be replaced. Jim went in to see them but they didn’t have a wiper for us and made no offer to try to track one down. They did, however, have the name of another glass place that might help us. Jim made the call and got good/bad news; they could get it in, but it would take 5 to 7 days! He called the glass place back home that had previously replaced the passenger side glass. They could have one shipped to us in about the same length of time. Jim called Mark Moisa at Quality Towing in Carlsbad to tell him what was happening, since we had not heard anything from him. He didn’t answer his phone, but returned the call right away. He asked Jim to send him the information for the local glass installer that we had, saying he’d call him. Then we waited for his approval to order the glass, because he was going to pay for it. And we waited. Jim called again in the afternoon and was told by whoever answered the phone that Mark was in a meeting and would call back in about an hour. He didn’t. Jim called the glass fellow and learned that Mark had called him to get the quote, saying he’d call him back. He didn’t. Later that evening, Jim blocked his cell phone number and called Mark again. When he answered and found out who it was he gave an incredulous story about being at an accident scene that involved his driver being hit and there were police cars, and ambulances and he had been talking to the police for three hours and had to go talk to them again, but he would take care of us as he’d promised. He’d call back “in a few minutes.” That was the last we heard from him.

Jim tried once more on Friday, but was again told that he was in a meeting. We gave up and called our insurance company with the story. An adjuster called back for more details. Jim gave him a quote from the local glass company, and the one in Canada, but still the adjuster said he’d have to send out an appraiser, and then we’d need to get more quotes. He also wanted quotes for the other damage (windshield wiper, and few dings/cracks in the fiberglass). He said it would be two weeks before the windshield would be fixed or replaced! Jim told him that was unacceptable and reminded him of our circumstances and the extra expense of continuing to stay in this park. He relented, called the local glass company for the quote and then gave permission to order the windshield.  We have to pay the $300 deductible. The insurance company will go after Quality Towing for reimbursement. I hope they have better luck than we did.

Oh, Jim asked the adjuster if the motor home would have been written off had we not been able to find a replacement windshield. His response, “No we’d have a new one manufactured, but it could take up to six months.” Thank goodness we found one and it is now on its way to us! We are still here, waiting.

There have been a few positives since then. Jim figured out what was wrong with his phone, and was able to fix the slide out problem. I did some baking and made a pot of chili. I got caught up on my blog posting and laundry.

We have made a few friends that have made the waiting easier. On Wednesday night we shared drinks and conversation with a couple from New Zealand who were parked next door to us. Sadly, they left the next morning. Friday afternoon another couple came in on the other side of us. They were here for the weekend to watch their son play hockey. They took us with them to the Friday night game (about which I’ve already posted). We stayed mostly in the park on Saturday, venturing only a couple of miles on foot up to the highway interchange where we found a full service center that carried some groceries and a Subway, if we got really in need of food. We bought some bananas and a bottle of wine to carry back. We played some pickleball on the vacant tennis court.

Thanks to Nawton and Peggie, Carol and John for taking our minds off our troubles for a bit.

A friend of Jim who lives in Connecticut happens to have a friend, Shawn, in El Paso. He suggested Jim give him a call. On Sunday Shawn took us out for a tour of the city, lunch, and then to stock up on groceries. He’s recently retired and his wife is away for the week so he was happy to have company and something to do. Yesterday he took us sightseeing again, and drove us around in search of a wiper, to no avail. Today he’d planned to take us downtown to some of the museums, but when Jim showed him how he thought he could repair the wiper if he could find someone to do a tiny bit of welding for him, Shawn thought of places he could take us. Each place was unable to help. We even went to the Ford Dealership to inquire about ordering a new wiper. They had nothing in their catalogue. Then Shawn came up with the idea to check with a former colleague of his who now works for a job training center. What a good call! His friend got one of the students to do the welding.

An enormous thank you goes out to Shawn, who has kept us from going insane. Maybe tomorrow we’ll finally get to tour downtown. 🙂

Now we have everything taken care of except the windshield. We’re hoping it will be done by the end of the week and then we’ll be on a direct route to Mesa, Arizona.

Life is much better now, thanks to these generous people.

In the Blink of an Eye


My plan, last month, was to start writing blog posts about the preparations needed to take a trip to China. On September 25th, one week from today, we were scheduled to join a twelve day tour with friends of ours. We’d booked this trip through the local Chamber of Commerce back in May, and until three weeks ago we were counting the days.

But, life can change in the blink of an eye. On Tuesday, August 23rd, Jim and I walked across the soccer field to the Hastings Field House to play pickleball, something we’d been doing three or four times a week all summer long. I was feeling fit and strong and happy.

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Hastings Field House

Two hours later I was lying on a bed in the emergency room at our closest hospital. At the time I wasn’t clear how it had happened, but somehow I’d thrown myself off balance while trying to hit a ball, and before I could move an arm or leg to catch myself, I landed on the floor with such force that it knocked the wind out of me. My right hip hurt and I couldn’t put any weight on my leg, but I couldn’t believe that it could possibly be broken, because it didn’t hurt all that much. I sat in a chair and watched while someone else stepped into my place and the game was finished, at my insistence.

However, when they tried to get me into a truck to take me home one movement caused me to gasp and suddenly I had no control over my leg or foot.  I had to admit that it was more than just a bruised hip. I was still optimistic, hoping it could be a dislocation that could be easily remedied. Instead of going home, my friend drove me to the hospital while Jim followed in our car. X-rays were taken of my hip and the conclusion wasn’t good – a fracture. They’d hoped to transfer me to Peterborough Hospital for surgery later that day. I had to fast until they learned that it wasn’t going to happen.

It was Thursday morning before I was loaded into a patient transfer wagon for the rough, hour-long trip. At 7:00 that night I met my surgeon outside the Operating Room. I was going to require a whole hip replacement! My optimism went out the door.

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Off to Surgery

I asked if I’d still be able to go to China in a month’s time. One nurse in the Emergency Room had told me that I’d be up walking the day after surgery, after all.

“Not going to happen,” said Dr. Lever. “You would have to have a load of blood thinners on board because of the risk of blood clots, and your extended health insurance wouldn’t cover you if anything happened as a result of this surgery. Do you have cancellation insurance?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll sign whatever forms you need to get your refund.”

“We usually leave for Arizona the middle of October, in the motor home.”

“Sorry, I don’t recommend that either.  You should stick close to home until your full twelve-week recovery period is up, for the same reasons.”

As they rolled me into the operating room, just before the anesthesiologist did his job, a few tears escaped from my eyes.

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What my new hip joint looks like

The Emergency Room nurse was right – I was up walking with a walker the next day, but it was obvious that there was no way I’d be ready to do any hiking in China in just four weeks, other risks or not.

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Third Day: Sitting up in a chair, filling out forms

By Sunday I was out of hospital and on the road to recovery, but instead of completing preparations for our trip to China, I’ve been filling out forms to get a refund for it through our Cancellation Insurance, and cancelling the extended health insurance. We will also have to adjust our insurance and our arrival dates for Arizona, but we will go. And maybe next year we’ll go to China.