Black Betty

Oh, oh, Black Betty, Bamalam...

Here she is, rescued from the confines of Culver City, freshly purchased from a young woman who is soon returning to the Czech Republic, after studying language here in L.A.

She met me Monday at EuroTech Motors, where Ardy's mechanic drove it, tested it, put it up on the rack and went over it with latex-gloved hands and a flashlight. She needs new back tires and a left front axle (the seal is shot), which my friend, Byron Perry, will take care of next week when he and Kathleen get back from Jamaica.

She also needs a good interior detail job, especially the once cream-colored carpet. Kelly has a guy who'll do it at the spa, so that should be handled soon, as well.

The top is automatic, but I still have to muscle it closed, clamping both sides at the same time. I'm embarrassed at how little upper body strength I have. Either I'm doing something wrong or...it's time to un-wimp! After closing it last night, it whistled all the way home, so I must have to put more umphhh in to it.

But, I can't deny that driving around with that top down, sun shining and wind playing with my hair, that there's a big, huge smile on my face...and in my heart.

Ahhh...Home Again!

Coming home is always as good to me as the leaving is. My bed welcomed me with 9 hours of blessed sleep, much needed after several nights of not enough. Its plush pillowtop felt heavenly after a way-too-hard bed.

We stayed at Cedar Breaks in Brian Head and I have the teeshirts to prove it, courtesy of Lynn and Bob, the wonderful sales couple at our resort. Spending an hour with Lynn as she spun visions of their luscious resorts, was hardly an imposition, and I was rewarded with $100 to spend at the resort.

Zion National Park is still as majestic and awe-inspiring as I remember. I walked barefoot in soft Zion dust, which is as red as the Georgia clay back home. We cooled ourselves under cascading water falls blowing in the wind, then later sat on rocks and dangled our feet in the Virgin River. As we were leaving we saw 3 Dall Sheep.

Up above, at Cedar Breaks National Park, the air was much cooler as we hiked through the woods and alpine meadows. I reveled in the summer wildflowers blooming profusely; lupine, Indian paintbrush, Utah daisies, and a myriad of others. The alpine pond was clear and shallow, with funny little stick-like creatures moving around the silty bottom. I must google and find out what they are.

I shall return. It is a place of peace, beauty and wilderness. I am grateful that only a few hours away, in any direction, I can still find these patches of perfection, and, in the finding, find myself once more.

No Blue

As fate would have it, come Monday, it might be alright, but...I got no car. No Blue. No cute little convertible. Nada. Just a mounting rental car bill.

So, tomorrow we're taking the rental (instead of a Cabrio) up to Vegas, then on to Cedar Breaks, Utah, Thursday morning.

I'm looking forward to the tranquility. We'll be staying in Cedar Breaks, elevation 10,200. The forecast is cool, mid-60's daytime, 40's at night, possible thundershowers a couple days. I'm taking my Koolaburras. And sweats. Comfy clothes. Something, too, for the heat of Zion and Bryce, and Cedar City.

Mostly I'm looking forward to a few days of nature. And relaxing. Some time doing nothing. I'll let Kelly go to the seminar. I'm resting. And playing.

Terry Brooks, you'll be happy to know that you'll be getting another royalty check in my name after today. I bought books 4 and 5, The Tangle Box (Nightshade is back) and Witches' Brew, to read on the trip. I'd forgotten how decadent it is to read to my hearts' delight. My favorite posture as a child was slouched in a chair or on the porch swing, book in hand. I would read until it was dangerously close to time for Mama to get home from work. Then, my sister and I would fly around the house sweeping, doing dishes, picking up clothes, dusting or cleaning the bathroom, whatever our chores.

Inevitably, there'd be that day when traffic must've been better than usual (or maybe she didn't stop to buy a beer for the ride). The dogs would start barking, and I'd jump up from my book, knowing her car was barreling down that red Georgia road. And I'd be in trouble, again. There'd be a lecture. Guilt. Maybe worse if she'd had a really bad day.

No wonder I feel guilty today about slipping away in to a good book and not getting my chores done. In fact, I've deprived myself for years, gleefully reading on vacations and airplanes, but seldom allowing myself the luxury any other time.

I say HOGWASH! Guilt be gone. I am a somewhat reasonable adult, at least most of the time. I can get things done when the doing is necessary and still read each day. Books, novels, are how I take my mind to the playground.

So, for the next few days, I rest, I play, and I forget about the car hunt. When I get back, the perfect one will be waiting. A little Cabrio convertible, cherry, automatic, mechanically sound. One that's absolutely, positively right for me.

Till then, Sayonara.
P.S. Are YOU depriving yourself of something you love? Give back the guilt and reclaim your beloved!!