Death Valley, it's not what you expect

 I've lived in California three different times, and not once was I tempted to go to Death Valley. That was a mistake.

I assumed it would be sand, sand, and more sand. After all, it's in the Mojave Desert and has the highest recorded temperature in the world: 134 F. And while it had incredible sand dunes, it was so, so much more.

We hiked into Mosaic Canyon. It's a slot canyon, so sections are very narrow. 

My husband.

Our daughter-in-law climbing a narrow, steep section.

In one of the wider areas. The gray section below looks paved, but it's actually gravel from the rock walls washed down by storms. It's pretty tiring to hike on, so we stuck to the stone.

Then, there were the mudflats. (Parts of Star Wars, A New Hope were filmed in DV, so some vistas, like this one, looked very familiar.)

And, least expected, an oasis. Deep in Death Valley.

This doesn't look like the way to a promising oasis. We wondered if the drought had dried it up.

Green plants gave us hope.

Actual running water! (Our son standing above it.) 

Willows, ferns, moss, and a pool filled with fish.
In the middle of Death Valley...

And, because I can never have a post without a metaphor, it reminded me of a good book. How it takes what you expect--desert and sand--and turns it into soaring rock, narrow twists, and unexpected rest and joy.

Vacation and Point of View

 

We're on vacation, visiting family. And I couldn't help but go to the beach (Which was allowed.) The sea calls to me. I think I'm a quarter mermaid.

The above photo is of me on a dune in very high winds. The light and thick air gave the photo a haunting, ethereal quality. It reminded me of the novel Dune. I took a few other photos (see below).  

The final photo below, taken at the same beach, reminds me how much perspective changes the look of things. When I'm writing, I spend a lot of time considering which character needs to be the point-of-view character. It can completely alter the story. 

Painting Vacation

On vacation, my husband and I painted--our staircase, our bedroom, and our living room. Then, he began painting "for real."

 

He's a gifted watercolorist. (I love being his model.) Recently, he finished the watercolor below. My only regret is I don't have a better camera on my phone--the photo falls far short of the original.

Gatlinburg, Just Another Day in Bearadise

Thursday at 3 am, I woke up to banging. At first, I thought the kids were playing pool, and though 3 am isn’t an appropriate time to play pool, I thought that maybe they couldn’t sleep.

My pool shark

Then, the sounds got louder and louder and followed by thuds, and I thought maybe one of the kids was sleepwalking and fell.

Then, there was a loud boom, and Calvin woke up. He said, “The raccoons are in the garbage.” We did have a raccoon in the garbage the night before.

As Calvin and I walked to the back door (the trash cans were on the second-floor deck), I said, “Sweetheart, that must be a family of raccoons to make that much noise.”

I switched on all the lights. The noises became very loud. I said, “Baby, be careful.”

Calvin unlocked the door and peeked out. “Uh, Connie, the trash can is gone.”

I said, “You’ve got to be kidding. That was a massive rubbish can.”

Calvin: “See for yourself.”

So I did. The trash can lid and the slate rock that we put on top of the can to keep out the raccoons were nicely laid on the deck floor. And the trash can was gone.

Cal turned on a flashlight, and we peered over the edge of the railing. Down on the ground was a black bear feasting on our garbage. Cal and I debated the size of the bear. I leaned toward 250 lbs. Cal pointed out that the bear was more than two stories away from us and probably weighed closer to 400 lbs. (According to Wikipedia, black bears can weigh anywhere from 160 to 550 lbs.) Maybe Calvin was correct.

The deck with a similar trash can
and the tree the bear climbed.

This hulking animal had to have climbed a tree and then leapt onto the deck. Happily situated on the deck, he removed the slate rock and the trash can lid. When I turned on the lights, he tossed the trash can over the railing and climbed down to finish dinner.

I called the State of Tennessee Bear Sighting hotline. They took down all my information for the bear tracker/relocation specialist.

Clearly, not the bear that visited our deck,
but photos taken at 3 am don't turn
out well. 

 Apparently, my new friend will be moved to the Cohutta Wilderness, which is where the “naughty” bears are relocated. I'm hoping that the process is anonymous—the Cohutta Wilderness is only 60 miles from our home in Chattanooga, and I’d prefer it if my bear buddy didn’t renew our friendship.

N.B. We ended up seeing 9 different bears (including the cute one on the right) during our trip to Gatlinburg this year. Because of the wildfires in November 2016, there is significantly less food available this year and the bears are becoming bolder to get the necessary body fat to survive the winter. We spoke to a local woman who told us that bears are figuring out how to open doors—her brother found a bear inside his truck because it had opened the door. 

Flannery O'Connor's Childhood Home

After I came home from caring for my daughter, my husband decided I needed a short vacation, so he took me to Savannah. I’d always wanted to go to Savannah. And then, I discovered Flannery O’Connor’s childhood home is in Savannah. And they give tours! (If you decide to visit, the times and days are very limited, so check before you go.)

We had a wonderful docent, who even knew Ms. O’Connor’s mother, Regina! So she knew all about the family, though she never met Flannery because she passed away before the docent was born.

The living room where young Flannery and her friends would gather to listen to radio shows on Saturday morning. The stories were scary Grimm-type fairy tales. (The radio is behind me, to the right.)

 

Here is Flannery’s bedroom. Apparently, she used to push her bed against the open window in the summer. Her mother wasn’t thrilled. It’s on the second story of the house.

 

This is a children’s coop. Babies and toddlers slept inside to help protect them from mosquitoes, which spread yellow fever. When Flannery was older, she repurposed the coop. An indulgent aunt bought Flannery a bantam rooster and hen for pets. Although the chickens belonged outside, Flannery put her chickens inside the children’s coop and could wheel them wherever she wanted.

BTW, did you know Flannery was famous long before she wrote? She taught her rooster to walk backwards. Her indulgent aunt (also wealthy and well-connected) made a phone call and a film crew came from New York and filmed her rooster walking backwards. The film was a short, which movie houses played before the main movie.

You can watch it here:

Here is a picture of the bathroom (obviously the commode is recent). Flannery used to fill the bathtub with pillows and decorate the bathroom, including commode with greenery. Then she and her friends would sit in the bathtub and read aloud. Grimm's Fairy Tales and young Flannery's own writing.





Here’s my husband standing in Mr. and Mrs. O’Connors’ bedroom. There is a scene in one of Flannery's short stories where a child stands out of sight, eavesdropping. Likely, this inspired it. Below this window is a main street and a beautiful square. Flannery may have done some eavesdropping in her time.

And the staircase in the house. I love stairs.





Below is a final photo (though I have many more). This is a photograph of Flannery reading a book as a young child. I love it.!

Grinning Down a Bear

We live in Tennessee, the home of Davy Crockett, who was known for "grinning down a bear." When we went on vacation last week to the Great Smokey Mountains National Park, little did we know that we'd be "grinning down a bear" too.

On our first day of hiking, I decided on an easy hike to test Matthew's stamina. After his grueling surgery, I didn't know how much energy he'd have. So we hiked to Laurel Falls. It was beautiful.

Me, cooling off in the mountain snow fed falls. Bliss.

Sons enjoying the hike.

In the photo below are my guys on our hike out from the falls, right before we met the bear.

Not long after the above photo, we saw a mama bear in a ravine with four cubs. But she was too far away for good pictures. So Jacob (orange shirt) suggested we go farther down the trail where the path would angle right next to the ravine. We decided to go for it.

When we finally got there, there wasn't any sign of the bears. So Jacob walked about 50 feet down a footpath and looked up the ravine. I heard the cracking of branches but didn't see anything. So I started down the footpath. Immediately, Jacob held up his arms and waved me back. Slowly, he backed up the trail as the mama bear came out of the brush less than 50 feet away. 

Here she is coming out of cover, sniffing the spot where Jake had been standing only moments before.

Checking on her cubs.

Staring us down as she began walking up the footpath toward us. We grinned and backed away slowly.
 Okay, not too slowly. But not running either, didn't want to seem like easy prey.

 The next day, I decide to try something less scary. I misread the guide. While we didn't see any critters, the hike I chose was a rock climb. Up a mountain.

At the end of the hike, the incline became almost vertical. Even steeper than it looks here. And if you slipped, there was nothing to break your fall. Until you reached the valley below. (The forestry service had posted "At your own risk" signs.)

What's Up Friday

This summer I’m not having much time to blog. So here’s another quick round of What’s Up Friday.

What I’m Doing

I finished my resume, and I’ve begun applying for jobs. (If you need a technical writer or a subject indexer, let me know.)

We’re in the midst of a stay-cation, mostly doing small things and resting. Yesterday morning, my husband and I canoed on the Tennessee River. In the evening, we drove to Knoxville and saw a Shakespeare on the Square’s production of Titus Andronicus. Very dark, reminiscent of a Greek tragedy. My summary—what would happen if you took a bunch of evil people and let them do whatever they wanted.

My husband rowing.

A photo of me at an island where we stopped for lunch. We were under a mulberry tree ripe with berries. I wanted to eat them. But Cal (probably remembering the scene from The Hunger Games) said I couldn't be 100% sure they were mulberries and he preferred not visiting ER. Turns out they weren't mulberries, but I'm pretty sure they were still edible.

             

 What I’m Reading

The Expats by Chris Pavone. After reading his book The Accident for Blogging for Books, I had to read his first book. It’s excellent, fast-paced treadmill reading. I’m also currently reading A Constellation of Vital Phenomena by Anthony Marra. It’s beautiful novel set in Chechnya.

What I’m Writing

I’m nearly finished with a big edit of my upmarket women’s fiction. Five chapters left. The chapters are slow going because they are very underwritten—I grossly underwrite first drafts. For example, the first draft of this novel was only 46k words. I’ll probably hit 73k to 75k before this edit is done. And I’ll still be adding words in the next edit, fleshing out the scenes. 

Charleston

For our anniversary, my husband and I went to Charleston for a short vacation. (It was so, so hot.)  But we drank lots of fluids and bought city-wide museum passes.

Interestingly, Charleston has more protected and preserved buildings than any city in the world, except Rome. Of course, the reason is that when the rest of the world was modernizing, Charleston was too poor. And by the time the city and its residents became flush again, tourism had become hot. So the city has some wonderful examples of architecture. 

Here are some examples. 

The French Huguenot church. Sadly, most of the churches weren't open to tourists.

The Aiken-Rhett house, the "backyard"of an in-town plantation. 

The Nathaniel Russell house. Very modest exterior belying a breath-taking interior, including a three story free-flying spiral staircase. Unfortunately, the residences don't allowed photos indoors. 

Middleton Place plantation. This live oak is 800 to 1000 years old.

Slave chapel at Middleton Place

Drayton Hall. This plantation had amazing docents.
They knew their history and they knew how to tell a story.

Drayton Hall. This plantation allowed some photography. The plantation house is unrestored, which means they haven't brought it back to its former glory. Instead, you see the house as it aged during the years--it tells a fascinating story. And it reminds you how transitory wealth, power and shiny status symbols are.

One last photo. In Charleston, even the alleys are picturesque.

So now we're home again and my creative tank is refilled. Time to write.

The Best of Vacation

 1. Food

Besides roast beef and pork loin, we had Afghani goat curry one night and Palestinian food another night. Yum!

2. The Beach

Onslow Beach, North Carolina

However, I did discover that 80 minute sunscreen did not last for the four hours I was in the water. So I’m grateful for aloe and zinc oxide. And, FYI, The Marine Corps has the nicest beaches in the country.

3. Highway 40. It is a gorgeous drive, which winds through the Smokies and the Blue Ridge Mountains. No traffic, beautifully green, and meets the Interstate 75 in Knoxville so we can have dinner with our son on the way home. (Luke is now a grad student at UTK.)

This photo is from Wikimedia because I couldn't find my camera (grumble) as we were driving through.

4. Rest

I’m just hoping that our dog Jezebel doesn’t read my blog—she’ll be so jealous. Cal never lets Jez nap on his chest.

5.  Friends

Photo courtesy of Rebekah Duke.

What can I say—I love two year olds. And Helen did a great job of doing my hair.