wendy house

Summary of  the 3,300 miles drive across 14/50 Northern US States  for 10 days in late August 2006.   This post pulls all the earlier blog posts and adds a few storylines.   Because that’s how a Wendy spends the long winter evenings, reminiscing on her little adventures.   For a visual ride  take  10 minutes to watch a flick-r slide show that gives a feel of the journey.

The journey in blog posts:

• Adventure pilot:   the reason for the journey is a friend’s home move from the west coast to NY where she’s taken a teaching position in the Bronx.   It’s her truck, filled with her home-accessories (sofa, chairs, tables, crockery, cutlery etc).  
• Pre-trip plans:   where will we go?   what will we see,   I don’t want to miss anything but I don’t have a clue what’s out there…
• Idaho Shoot and Stuff it:   the Taxidermy industry is still Alive in the west.
• Montana Wendy driving:   on the second day I drove for a while.   World traveller took this photograph.   The truck made strange noises,   gave subtle feedback not displayed in dials.   For the rest of the journey I opted out of driving.   World traveller could ‘feel’ and ‘hear’ the truck make judgements about its health based on that sensual understanding that cannot be conveyed easily in words. When and where to sensibly call AAA was an underlying theme of the journey.
• Basic Truck Maintenance:   duct tape muffles  maddening wing-mirror squeak.
• Wyoming Buffalo:   the truck nearly runs out of gas late at night in a ‘closed’ Yellowstone park.   Earlier that evening we’d successfully escaped a police tail (not blogged).   Earlier that morning we’d  convinced a different policeman that we didn’t need help.   A truck driven by girls attracts the attention of the police.
• Wyoming tractors: all over the place,   tractors.   I suspect they are the US equivalent of the British  Yak.
• South Dakota Wall Drug:   Because its a culturally shared experience, Wall drug has to be visited. Followed by the Corn Palace in Mitchell where we illegally loitered for a while.   Naughty!
• South Dakota Cowboys:  We saw some, real ones, mainly in trucks pulling their horses behind them.
• Minnesota mechanic:   he just dove into the engine,   seat in the air,   what a hero, fixed the truck there and then while we hunted-down local pie.
• Minnesota I90 speed limits:   road signs publish a Maximum and a Minimum.
• Ohio unshorn teachers: a copy of a teachers behavioural code published in a pie serving Ohio cafe.
• Ohio Pie Prices: the same cafe showed innovative accounting practices,   the sum is greater than the individual pieces.   The sum is a tad scarey.
• Pennsylvanian Karaoke: after days of practicing what my pilot called ‘Car-e-oke’ on our last night we raved it up in a small town Karaoke night with friendly locals.
• Pennsylvanian speeding house:   we were overtaken by a house.
• Keeping it clean:   categorisation and rating of the tested motel showers (Mining, Cowboy, Trucking, Tourist, Toy).

Then,   not long after completing the journey, the much loved truck died

Bye Bye truck.

World traveller called to tell me the Truck has finally shuffled of this mortal coil.   Let’s take 2 minutes silence to respect the daring do’s of the red truck:

• Being shiny and new (1974)
• Costing $450.00  and driving from Oregon to Ellensburgh (2005)
• Carrying the contents of World traveller’s home 3,000 miles from Ellensburgh to New York, with only one little hiccup  (Aug. 2006)

Towards the end of the road trip we began to bet a bit confused about which State we were actually in.    Because:

• Burn-out.   We were generally more in  a state towards the end of the trip than at the beginning.   We ultimately crossed 14/50 States  covering approximately 3,300 miles in 10 days.   By day 7 our thinking was generally a bit cloudy,   like Iowa,   or was it Ohio.
• Turn-over.   Sometimes we passed more than one State in a day.   Wisconsin, Iowa  and Indiana just flew by.  
• Vowell-challenge.      Iowa and Ohio seem to merge in my triple-vowell challenged consciousness.  

I think Iowa and Ohio looked like this,   arable farms (corn and peas),   cloudy,  straight deserted roads.      I can’t be sure.

During our drive across North America we passed many buildings and,  frankly, shacks advertising Taxidermy services.   Many more buildings were decorated with stuffed animals.   A quick internet search throws up multiple US websites offering Taxidermy training or lists of Taxidermy businesses,   for example this list for Michigan.

This photograph shows a stuffed  Otter hanging in the window of a bar in Idaho:

The published storyline is that the US government was scared of riots on international labour day, May 1st, and socialism when the date, first Monday in September, was selected.  

In North America the first Monday in September is the “Labor Day Weekend”.    In the US the Monday is a national Holiday.    Not vacation, Holiday.   Vacations appear to be taken by individuals while Holiday’s are  given by the US government.    The US Department of Labor website explaining the history of the US Labor Day does not cite pre-existing “Labour days” in other countries or any international level recognition of the value of labour to society.     Wikipedia has 2 entires on Labour days one for North America (September) and one for the rest of the world   (Labour, May 1st).   The rest of the world entry does  include Canada Labour day,   British spelling,   US compatible date.  

Wikipedia Labour day excerpt:

“A Labour Day is an annual holiday celebrated all over the world that resulted from efforts of the labour union movement, to celebrate the economic and social achievements of workers.   The celebration of Labour Day has its origins in the eight hour day movement, which advocated eight hours for work, eight hours for recreation, and eight hours for rest.”

Wikipedia Labor day excerpt:

“The origins of the American Labor Day can be traced back to the Knights of Labor in the United States and a parade organized by them on September 5, 1882 in New York City. They were inspired by an annual labor parade held in Toronto, Canada. In 1884 another parade was held, and the Knights passed resolutions to make this an annual event. Other labor organizations (and there were many), but notably the affiliates of the International Workingmen’s Association favored a May 1 holiday. With the event of Chicago’s Haymarket riots in early May of 1886, president Grover Cleveland believed that a May 1 holiday could become an opportunity to commemorate the riots. Thus, fearing that it might strengthen the socialist movement, he quickly moved in 1887 to support the position of the Knights of Labor and their date for Labor Day”

One indicator of labour’s health and value,   work-life balance,    does not look positive within the  US  compared to other Nations represented by the United Nations.    PNR reports that:

US companies are perceived as being responsible for an increasingly poor work-life balance… …the U.S. ranks as one of the highest in average annual hours worked per person, a rank that has remained virtually unchanged since 1990, according to statistics from the International Labor Organization at the United Nations.

This fits with my personal experience and appears to influence the whole fluffy notion of ‘way of life’ here in the US.   They are Free to work their sox off and employ services to maximise the efficiency of  their limited ‘life’ time out of work (Nanny’s,   cleaners,   dishwashers,   plummers,   house-painters, Kitchen remodellers,   personal trainers,   gyms…..).

 sunset in Yellowstone park:

Imagine it’s 10pm at night.   You’re driving through,   no street lights,   almost no traffic.   The sensible tourists left  before sunset.   The gas tank is running dangerously  low,   the winding roads make judging distance from the map more a wild guess than an approximate  calculation.   If we run-out AAA could always send someone with a large jug of gas,   if we can get cell-phone reception to call them.    We may be sleeping in the truck if we don’t get to a gas station soon.   We’re in a tight spot.   Conversation stops.  

Our headlights revealed a car  stopped in the road ahead.   We pull up.    One by one 5 Buffalo  climb from the steep incline onto the flat road.   In silent awe we forget that we might be sleeping in the truck as these lighfooted giants  gracefully cross the road ahead.  

Soon after the Buffalo crossing we found a motel.    The morning  revealed a gas station within 100 yards of the gas-starved truck.

1. Teachers each day will fill lamps, clean chimneys
2. Each teacher will bring a bucket of water and scuttle of coal for the days session.
3. Make your pens carefully,  you may whittle nibs to the individual taste of each pupil.
4. Men teachers may take one evening each week for courting purposes, or two evenings a week if they go to church regularly.
5. After ten hours in school, teachers may use the remaining time reading the bible or other good books.
6. Women teachers who marry or engage in unseemly conduct will be dismissed.
7. Every teacher should lay aside from each pay a goodly sum of their earnings for his benefit during declining years so he will not become a burden on society.
8. Any teachers who smokes,   uses liquor in any form, frequents pool or public halls, or gets shaved in a barber shop will give good reason to suspect his worth,   intention, integrity and honesty.
9. The teacher who performs his labour faithfully and without fault for five years will be given an increase of 25 cents per week in his pay providing the board of education approves.

From a set of rules published on the wall of Granny Joe’s, Vermilion, Ohio:

World Traveller took a fancy to reviving  her Japan developed Karaoke skills in some small town with no chance of repercussions during our road trip.    Friday,   Saturday night on the road came and went without a nearby Karaoke event.   Then.   Sunday.   The motel was attached to a restaurant-bar advertising karaoke on Sunday.  Tonight.  While carrying our stuff to our room a permanent guest briefly told us her life story and introduced us to Zack*, the bar chef who ran the Karaoke, as clients for his evening’s entertainment.   While we ate our meal a puppy-like Zack kept popping into the restaurant to check if we were ready.   He couldn’t wait.   He started singing several songs.   We heard the singing,   ordered another pint of the local brew Yuengling, and wandered into the bar.

World traveller helped me choose a relatively easy song.   “Crazy little thing called love” by Queen.   After 3 pints (one more than my usual) I levered the microphone off Zack (not an easy task) and sang.   The Bar manager commented on how my accent disappeared when I sang.  ”He’s English too” I weakly protested.

World traveller picked “Me and Bobby Magee” by Janis Joplin.   Zack was on a roll,   getting the microphone from him was no mean feat.   Finally she managed it and produced a fine rendering though not to her own high standard.   Having given-up smoking constrained her ability to really scream the lyrics to her satisfaction.   The bar seemed impressed,   a school teacher,   a single mother, a tractor designer and assorted others, mainly staff at the motel-bar-restaurant,   like Zack.

As a compromise to ease removing the microphone from Zack World Traveller sang a duet with him,   “Don’t go breaking my heart” by Elton John and Kiki Dee.   He explained the lyric colour-coding to World traveller once,   twice, three times.   As they started singing he said “this is you” then “this is all me“.   Clearly the whole event was all about Zack.   I learned that the Karaoke machine only cost $30.   The school teacher asked me to make requests for songs she wanted to sing “He’ll do it if you ask,   he’ll ignore us” she explained.   Single mom helped me sing “don’t speak” by No Doubt and commented that I had a talent for picking songs with difficult timing.   School teacher went home to pick-up her child (another single mom) then came back to finish the evening with us.

Other songs covered:   New York New York (Franky),   Saturday night’s alright for fighting,   Candle in the wind (Elton John),   Yellow (Coldplay),   Let me sleep on it (Meatloaf)  and some American classics I barely recall in the ilk of Hotel California.   At midnight the bar manager threw us all out.   For $2 a beer World Traveller and I had a spanking good time only totalling $12.   Bargain!  As we ambled back to our Motel room and hugged goodbye’s one of the people at the bar,   that neither of us recall having spoken to, gave us his email address commenting that he would be hunting Bear in Montana soon,   out our way.  

*names have been changed to protect the singers

In South Dakota we saw REAL COWBOYS.   Not people merely masquerading  in cowboy boots, hats, jeans and western-cut shirts.   These boys had just unloaded their horse-carrying trailer and were mounting-up ready to round-up some nearby cattle.  

In the ferocity of female-pheromone-fast-production and general dribbling I completely forgot about the camera as World Traveller excitedly announced

“real cowboys,   there,   look,   I’ll slow up” (she was driving)

Every other pick-up truck  from Montana to Wyoming  hauls a horse-trailer.   Modern cowboys haul their horses cross-country before using them to “off road”   HA!   horses,   the orgininal “off roaders”   who needs a 4×4 when you’ve got a 6-pack of horses in your trailer!

 

The town is one large tourist shop “Wall Drug” with an entertaining marketing campaign (signposts) that leave the actual experience as an anti-climax.  I do vaguely remember climax’s so I can recognize anti-climax’s.  It does have a fire-station,   a grain store and  wireless internet at an economy motel.  

Hellllloooooo!

Truck stops have the BEST internet connections!  This is Lonnie’s seat poking out from under the bonnet of the Truck.   I recommend Lonnie when you’re in a tight spot on a hard shoulder.    Don’t let those loose pants fool you.   This man can spark a plug,   de-clog a filter and replace a fuel system on a truck whose parts went out of production 20 years ago.   I stand amazed.   Actually I kind of wobble-amazed while drinking “Wollersheim Winery” ‘Prairie red’ in a truck-stop with great internet access…

The UK doesn’t have Liquor stores like the US.   Liquor stores  are a  novel US cultural experience for me.   In Britain you buy alcohol including liquor in many (licenced) corner shops and supermarkets.  There are shops called “off licences’ that specialise in selling Alcohol.   Off-licences normally stock wine and beer as well as liquor.  

While exploring a State run liquor store in Charlotte I stumbled across ‘EverClear‘ amongst the bourbons.    Bourbon is ‘America’s native spirit’.    Evidently you can’t purchase Everclear in Washington State.    I purchased this bottle out of curiosity. It  is  95% alcohol,   190 proof.   That exploded a few brain cells and I hadn’t even taken the cap off the bottle.  

It looks like Meths.   It’s packaged like meths.   Meths is a  strong spirit that can be drunk but is meant for other purposes.    In the UK you occassionally see bedraggled people on the streets drinking it.   I associated it with alcoholism and homelessness.  

Wendy:   what do you do with this stuff?   Drink it or use it for cleaning things?

companion #1:   Drink it.   Carefully

Wendy:   have you ever had any?

companion #2: No

companion #1: Yes.   Once.   At college.   Students drink it.

Other than take the lid of and sniff it I’m not sure what I’m going to do with my bottle.   Suggestions welcomed

A little creative navigation lead to an unexpected  whirlwind tour of Charlottte with no injuries,   tears or smudged make-up.   RESULT!

Wendy:           which way?

navigator:   turn left,             NO!         the other left,         the one that isn’t right

navigator:   you’re right we should have used the left on your right…     ….errm…   …actually we should have used the left straight ahead

navigator: the other way,   the way we’ve just come,   the left that is 180 degrees the other direction

wendy:   WEEEeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!

occassionally the ‘executives’ send emails to the coal-face.   93.14159 % of them start with the phrase “I’m super excited…”      Apparently they get super excited about sweeping generalisations,  nothing specific.     These make me think of labrador puppies before they’ve been house trained.   Not inspring confidence in the executives ability to put a finger on the pulse of the organisation.   Do US people thrive on this sort of vague praise?

To me ‘Super excited’ is beginning to mean ‘here comes the motivational management bull****. Skip down two or three  paragraphs to avoid having your intelligence insulted and actually find out what this email is really about’  

wendy:   goodmorningLatino lady emptying the bin outside the hotel:   goodmorning (big smile)

later

Wendy:   I’ll take the stairs, we wont all fit in the lift

2 Latino ladies with room cleaning trolleys:   (giggles)

In Seattle when I greet or talk to the Latino people emptying the bins or cleaning the rooms at work they rarely reply, I’ve never seen them smile.   I’ve learned to treat them as if they aren’t there.   It makes me feel uncomfortable.     I don’t know any Latino people.   The only places I see them are on the streets or in support roles like gardeners or cleaners.   Here in Charlotte the Hotel staff appear more open to sharing superficial niceties.   I feel less akward  being me.  

No pedestrian crossing’s or sidewalks in this district.   Everyone drives.   I just wanted to pick up some supplies from a store near my hotel without getting into the car.    A low slung car pulled up as  I looked for a gap in traffic to cross the road

shiny black man:   wanna ride?   white-toothy-grin

Wendy “thanks,   but no thanks” yellow-toothy-grin

He pulled away.   A helpful native?    A guy with a thing about skinny older white chicks?   Someone surrupticiously working out whether I was a street walker? A budding serial killer?   I’ll never know.

Outside the deserted suburbian strip mall Hotel  a group of men loiter, smoking.   No-one is white.    The Hotel provides free  ’beer’  (lager) to residents between 4 and 5pm.   This fills the lobby with the elegantly labelled  ’business men’.   The mature manageress proudly referred to the hotel’s 20yrs history and recent renovations to suit  it’s business clientelle.    It certainly meets basic needs.    It is in some taste of finery that doesn’t permeate my senses.   It feels bland.   Only the people make it special.   She complimented me on my ‘cute accent’.     I returned the compliment.   Her drawl is kind to the listener and speaker.   No hurry,   think before you speak,   its ok to ponder.  Even the lifts are slow.  I like it.   She giggled as if no-one had ever told her she sounded cute.   Her cell phone rang,   she left…

In the foyer an attractive 44yr old black man talked about his business.   He’s  training chef’s  across the east coast.    He pondered on  how he came to this point in his life.    An easily shared  story of  college and job  changes.  He has a  french speaking friend  from the Ivory coast who now owns a cafe somewhere in Paris.    He commented that I looked European.   I giggled.   Can he not hear my accent? Is this a subtle form of politeness?   He asked if I can spot Americans.   I looked at his faded,   XL t-shirt and khaki cut-off cargo pants while pondering telling the truth.  I told the truth without citing khaki cargo pants or t-shirts.   Then my colleague arrived wearing khaki cargo pants and a t-shirt and we left to meet 3 more American people,   all of whom wore khaki cargo pants and t-shirts.

in Charlotte, NC.  

Anticipating hot balmy southern nights.  I didn’t bring mi’ mack.   Ooops.    Alberto,  the first tropical storm  of the season is here.   Today’s CBS report comments:

‘the heaviest rain – probably 2 to 4 inches – is likely in Georgia and the coastlines of the Carolinas, with most of Florida getting only an additional inch or so and some areas staying rain free’

Tropical storms and their bigger sibbling ‘hurricanes’ are a completely new experience for me.

I plan to get wet rather than spend my brief, valuable touristy, time mack shopping (yuck!)    

Space Needle 11pm June evening

Originally uploaded by :: Wendy ::.

after a couple of beers in good company (LaCroix, Anne, Jen). Just to be clear, its not a Pie and its not a Hole. It is a bit fuzzy…

my world traveller friend is moving to NY this weekend.   In the 6 years I’ve known her she’s lived in:

• Seattle
• China
• Madrid (Spain)
• A private yaught (Alaska, Mexico, the Pacific coast)
• Ellensburgh (urgh?!!!)

She’s a special friend.   We met during my first week in Seattle at a pub quiz.   Hardly knowing each other arranged to runaway to  Mardi Gras, a  weekend in New Orleans.  

Travelling separately.   I sat on the porch of our 2 star hotel with a bottle of wine I’d corked by forcing the cork into the bottle.   In the heat of the evening I drank the wine and waited for the stranger,   my room companion,   to turn up.   An asian guy arrived at midnight.   The hotel staff had gone home.   He’d booked a room,  had no-where else to stay.  World traveller  turned up with a tiny back-pack and all the enthusiasm of a toddler.   Of course she didnt mind him staying in our room.   We looked after him for a a couple of days,  expored the city,   had our fortunes read,   met strangers and lived stories that warrant thier own blog entries.    She’s so easy to be with,   so bright in many ways.   I’ll miss her presence in this State painfully because friends like her are rare.   Friends like her  are usually somewhere else.   My friends are usually somewhere else….    I’m not often a soppy bugger, but for tonight  there will be BIG

BLUBBING

in the Wendy house this weekend.   Actually there will be blubbing in a sleeping-bag on the floor of her packed apartment,   but you get my drift….

1. Airway Heights is on a flat surrounded by higher ground.. ?!
2. Fairchild Airforce Base is on part of State Route 2 near airway heights  labelled as ‘Rambo Road’, aspirational imagery or some form of joke?
3. Airway Heights Corrections Center (Prison) is sign-posted from Rambo, not Papillon,  road.
4. No sign of Dan’s bottom in  Reardan.
5. Tautological sign posting;    a road sign announced “scenic vista“.  
6. Northwest arts and culture museum attendant said “Miss, please do not put your stuffed toy on the cars“,    what a charmer, no messing with ‘Mam’, ‘Lady’ or ‘Oi! YOU”

There was quite a lot of giggling and some wincing  on the roads around Spokane

Our Barcelonean correspondent is a bit miffed.  Eyan  writes:

Am translating the most tedious web page ever, which makes Madrid look as exciting as a wet weekend in Middlesborough without a DVD or laptop. It’s probably written by some pijo (read posh kid or Ivy leaguer) who has connections to the Partido Popular (read Tory or Republican party), not unikely to have connections with Opus Dei and is bound to be somebody’s cousin, niece, or nephew. Meritocracy is not the word for Spanish society. Most overused words – offer ( used 27 times as a verb and noun in about 2,000 words), enjoy, importante, (which is often translated into English as significant).

My guide also describes the main gay area, Chueca,  without actually saying it is a gay area. It only refers to “subcultures” ( there are also a lot of trendy places nearby, but not actually really in Chueca). Gays offend Catholic fundamentalist sensibilities, along with poor people, socialists and immigrants.

While Eyan was tackling turgid sleep-inducing web-page prose,  I was tackling crossing the vast open plains of Spokane roads…   …how wide?

Spokane Falls at nightOriginally uploaded by :: Wendy ::.

It was really this pretty, all soft spray and coloured lights a gentle roar of water. Lots of smooching couples nearby being all squishily romantic. I was too shy to photograph them…

I asked the other guests at the Stoltz House.

Edmonton  couple: for a vacation

Banff  couple: we’ve just bought an apartment here

The couple from Edmonton continued with the story of their son’s recent wedding in the Ukraine.

Edmonton couple:   there are no fat people in the Ukraine; everyone has wonderful figures, even the old people.

We shared a complimentary bottle of red wine supplied by Phyllis,   the outstanding landlady of Stoltz House for that last 14yrs,   Phyllis is incomparable,   a pure diamond.  I learned that Banff is lacking for cultural entertainment in the summer and is within driving distance of the happening city of Spokane.   A pleasant drive.  I learned  about ‘King Ralph’,   a radio and TV personality with a drinking problem that is currently the premier of Alberta, not  the film starring John Goodman.

I managed not to giggle at multiple uses of the word  ‘a boooooot’.

It was a tough challenge after two glasses of wine.   I sat in my corner,   nodded occassionaly and laughed at the genuinely funny stories.

After 1 beer lists are the height of my organisation prowess.   After 2 beers I can reach the heady heights of a  miss-typed stream of consciousness.   Tee hee, Jack Kerouac  eat your heart out.   See if you can  guess where, in this stream of consciousness, I finnish my second beer…..

10 things to contemplate doing around Spokane ((structure of this post was inspired by Jen’s ’10 things’ series.))

1. Visit the site of the former World fair,   riverfront park.   Waterfalls,   gardens, funfair rides,   and a ‘falls sky ride’   oooOOOoooooo….     …I hope Flat Eric doesn’t suffer from vertigo!
2. Try-out some wines from the local wineries.    Can I taste the mining, or nuclear, pollution?   Does  this give  the wines a  zesty ‘kill your taste-buds’ tang?   It’s got to be done!
3. Take a look at the outside of  the Kaiser Aluminum plant,   one of those places where workers were exposed to Asbestos. It’s a business that is expanding in Spokane and supplies materials to build aeroplanes.  
4. Look at the architecture downtown.   The Davenport Hotel looks like it could be a fabulous turn of the century building that I can wander into without parting with cash.
5. Visit the Northwest museum of arts and culture,   that has a special exhibition on ‘cars and costume’,   an intriguing juxtaposition.
6. Visit the ‘Crosby’ center on the Gonzaga campus,   named after the local boy ‘Bing Crosby’.   Maybe take a photograph of Flat Eric in front of the statue of Bing.
7. find out about the subduing of the indigneous  Spokane, Palouse, Coeur D’Alene tribes (visit the Steptoe battlefield),   check out some ancient  petroglyphs.
8. walk,  roller-blade or bike along the Spokane Centenai trail.
9. visit a couple of local ‘prairies’ and look for ‘little houses’ on them.   ‘Orchard prairie’ is by a town called ‘Country Homes’ with names like these they are just calling out for a visit….   They don’t have ‘prairies’ in Britain.   For me their novelty value hasn’t worn off and I grew-up watching the Ingle’s girls….
10. Visit Manito park.   Mainly to be in  a pretty place designed to make people relax and be happy,   but also to get some local information on the Olmstead Brothers influence.   I’m an Olmstead brothers groupie.   Only since they  are dead there’s no sex on the cards when being a groupie.   Sigh.    I’ve admired them since I was 20 when I first studied environmental psychology as an undergraduate.    The wikipedia entry on their achievements doesn’t adequately praise their work in the light of the predominant contemporary attitudes towards nature,   especially European attitudes.    You might get treated to a bit of my gushing over these guys in a later blog entry.   IF you are lucky.   You could get lucky.   I used to get paid,   yes  PAID,  to  discuss their work with people.   People?   well undegraduates,   I’m not sure if they count,   they’re so busy being hip and pre-mature and having sex and stuff even though they can say some insightful things in odd moments of lucidity during seminars,   mainly they’re just cute in a grungy kind of way,   or at least they were when I taught….    

If I do only two things in that list I’ll be a happy bouncy bunny.   Did you spot where the stream of consciousness krept in?   I bet you did,   you’re clever like that  

Over-prepared-two-beer-tiddly-Wendy

The  graph-map thingy below  shows USA States that I have

• explored a bit (lilac)
• got lost in an airport (pink)
• probably flown-over (yellow)

apologies to the 3 United States (Hawaii, Alaska, Britain) not included in this Excel MapPoint thingy.

Museum of History.   Wendy winces.   At this rate of wincing I’m going to develop a permanent tic.  

The Charlotte Museum of History was a pleasure. Entrance was free on the Sunday I visited.   It was staffed by friendly, attentive,  volunteers.   I thought ‘this is southern hospitality’. The real highlight was the live folk music played by younsters and oldsters.   A ‘live’ museum.   The music  echoed around the impressive, modern, building.   Mandolins,   Banjo’s, Guitars, Violins and more.   Here they are playing ‘Amazing Grace’:

On flick-r there are more of my photographs of Charlotte.

this configuration of signs nearly lured me into oncoming traffic…   …should I stay or should I go?

shop assistant:    ‘are you finding everything alright?‘   (Standing over 5ft away from Wendy without having made eye-contact)

Wendy:       ……(doesn’t realize the assistant is  talking to me)…….

shop assistant:      ”ARE YOU FINDING EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?’‘  (louder, without moving closer, without  attempting to gain eye contact)

Wendy:   (walks to the shouting assistant, smiles) “were you talking to me?”  

shop assistant:   “yes” (looks a bit gobsmacked)

Wendy: “Can I help you?” (I adore reversing who is helping who with this phrase)

shop assistant:     “are…are  you finding everything alright?”

Wendy: “I’m just browsing,   but thank YOU for asking” (or provides  specific purchase criteria)

* the phrase ‘are you talking to me’ is often used as a pre-cursor to a contrived argument, a deliberate provocation to a fight.   Well illustrated  by Robert De Niro in ‘Taxi Driver’  

when one weeks unsolicited mail to the Wendy House looks like this:

 

I could use it to wall-paper my home.   Too fancy for my taste in wall decor.   Is  there a way to stop the producers of this mail wasting resources on me?   It doesn’t sell me anything.    

This  may have been taken  balancing  a camera on a steering wheel driving  across the impressive 4.1 mile Astoria-Megler bridge.

More impressive photographs and details about:   Astoria-Megler Bridge