August 12, 2010

We are still in New Brunswick, having newness every day, and soaking it up. The weather is still just great: in the high 70s or low 80s every day, down to 60 degrees at night. It was windy yesterday, but just perfect for the kite flying festival in Dieppe, about 15 miles inland. It was so great, the PA system was very, very good and the music was matched to the kites. The performance of Jean Lamoureaux with the 20 kites hooked together brought tears to my eyes, it was just so beautiful.

The other night we watched the northern lights at midnight. At first we thought it was lightning without thunder, but the sweeping green and pink smears across the sky became very definitive. A very moving show. Tonight we are promised a spectacular meteor show: the Perseids are supposed to appear in the northeastern sky. We have a really dark night here, so are looking forward to seeing the meteors.

New Brunswick has a somewhat stark look to it. Houses are plain, for the most part, and set on ACRES of mowed lawn. Much larger lawns than we see on southeastern estates. Two story, with small windows, painted in light gray or white, with dark trim, and no trash around. No dead cars or boats, no blue tarps, and the garbage is set out in wooden crates, some quite decorative.

The Veterans Highway translates Vets to Anciens Combattans (!) Bologna is a staple on lots of dinner menus. The lobster season appears to be better than last year but not newsworthy. They sell lobster claw meat for about $6 per lb, cooked and shelled; tastes a little like crab. Seems like I forget to put on my earrings most days, and sometimes forget to comb my hair! I told Davey I was either very relaxed or getting senile; he says we’re going to go with relaxed.

Love,

Sam

August 3, 2010

Seems like we were there a long time ago (a week) and we’ve seen a lot since, but we LOVED the Finger Lakes area of New York. When Dave rode his bike across the United States this was the one area he wanted to come back to. I can see why. It is an area of five or more lovely lakes with pockets of population, pretty homes, beautiful gardens and flowers. People always ask us which area do we find the most beautiful. Now we have to say Utah AND the Finger Lakes.

The RV parks in upstate New York are filled with people staying for the summer. Hard to do a map for those parks. Actually, we are having such a good time, feeling like we are really on vacation, or finally retired (!), that I don’t want to work anymore! Dave is hoping the feeling will pass … and it probably will, although I don’t see the potential for mapping this part of the northeast.

Crossing the border into Canada was uneventful, except the official kept asking us if we had any guns. Do we look like people who have guns? We laughed for miles remembering the story about Larry Baker. When they asked Larry at the border if he had anything to declare, he declared “Amnesty for all!!” I can’t remember how long they were detained.

We thought the stiff attitude was just the border guard, but we encountered the same demeanor from folks in Ontario. My smile is still kind of a sneer, so I tried to make my eyes soft and friendly. Dave’s jokes did not go over well.

The roads are bad. Hwy, 20 East between Montreal and Quebec are every bit as bad as Jackson, Mississippi. We had a hard time finding an RV park reasonably close to where Andre and Louise live. Many parks can’t accommodate us: “Ure equeepmen ees too beeg!” Dave is dealing with it very modestly.

We finally found a “Camp Transit” near Levi on the South side of the St. Laurence River about 12 miles downriver from Quebec City. It is a 230 site park (with four washers!) almost full every day. Construction workers all take their vacation the last two weeks of July, which could explain some of our problems finding a park.

We are having the same culture shock in Quebec that we had in Georgia six years ago. It is not what we thought we knew. We thought Quebec City was maybe mostly french. Wrong. Quebec City is totally, rigidly french in every way. The civil laws are french, all the signs, packaging and instructions are in french and an english speaking person is not very welcome. Ontario met us with open arms compared to Quebec.

Everything is a little bit of a struggle for us, because we don’t know the language. For example, we could not spend as much time in the old part of the city because we could not find a parking space. We could not understand all the instructions on the parking signs. So we will probably not explore more of the province, but we are loving our experience here in the city. Andre and Louise Vachon graciously had us to their lovely condo for a wonderful meal and visit. And yesterday they took us to St. Raymond to look at my grandfather’s birthplace and where he grew up. Johnny Vachon, my mother’s father, was one of 13 children (9 boys); his brother Alexandre was Archbishop of Ottowa, a very well known, progressive leader in the Catholic world. Andre has published a book about Alexandre and is gathering information about John, Peter and Andrew Vachon, who went to Alaska at the turn of the 19th Century.

It has been wonderful to see the roots of my mother’s family. (And maybe my father’s as well – Louise is a Plamondon. Simon Plamondon was a french trader who married into the Cowlitz Tribe; his daughter married Michael Cottenoire.)

The gulf between English speaking and French speaking has existed since the earliest settlements here, although it apparently was not a point of contention in the early days. My great grandmother, Mary Davidson, was a protestant from Ireland, who spoke only english. Immigrants were so wanted it didn’t seem to matter what language they spoke. Although the Vachon children grew up with both french and english spoken in the home, there was only one religion; Mary converted, without her parents approval.

Andre’s family was also from St. Raymond. along the St. Anne River, and he was able to bring boyhood memories to our tour yesterday. It was an unforgettable journey and Andre and Louise themselves are the real treasures of our trip. We share core beliefs and values and are very glad we are family. We could be happy living next door to them. Alas, we cannot read the lease, so we will have to move on.

Quebec City is full of Volkswagens! We have never seen so many! And more cyclists than Eugene, Oregon! We realize that Canada has a short summer, but we find it extraordinary to see so many walkers and cyclists, and the downtown parks are large and full of families, strolling and picnicking. RV parks are full of Canadian families (mostly Quebec plates) on extended stays. Maybe these are the same folks who spend six months each winter in Florida! The rate of exchange is almost even but we find the prices high. Gas is $4 per liter, and my $l coke is $2.30. We have made some great discoveries, most by accident. Trying to order in a small restaurant last week, we ended up with a strange soggy plate of what sort of looked like french fries. Lucky us! They are poutines, a french fry served with chunks of white cheese and a delicious sweet, beefy sauce. So good!

It’s all good, dear friends. Today we are taking the ferry across the river to old town Quebec City, to walk and browse. We think of you with love.

Sam and Dave

July 21, 2010

We’re on the road again. Excited about seeing new places and looking forward to a cool breeze eventually. The Bell’s Palsy has gotten better. It’s been a month now and I can wink and almost smile (only a slight sneer, as the left side of my mouth still doesn’t work well). My pucker is back, though!

It occurs to me that this is the first time in my life I have been able to look at a trip with no worry or concern about getting back or checking in or leaving someone who depended on me. As much as I miss my mother, her death has released us both.

We are in Woodbine, MD this morning, on Hwy 70 west of Baltimore. The traffic on I-95, as you can imagine, is dense and fast, with occasional slowdowns due to construction. The heat is pretty bad; we don’t have A/C in the bus when we are driving. The freeways up to the Capitol are in awful shape; you know the minute you pass into Maryland. Built for transport, these freeways are tree-lined chutes, you can’t see anything through the leafy borders.

I loved noting the rivers we crossed. I have read so many books which featured one or the other: Appomattox, James, Chickahominy, Chesapeake Bay Watershed, Rappahanock, Potomac. Looking at the map last night, we have decided to go to Syracuse and up to Canada on Hwy 81. Might not escape the traffic, but it seems like it should be a little lighter. We are going to take a detour today and go to Gettysburg; can’t be this close and not go. I’ve got my can of Monkey Butt Lady’s Anti-Chafing Powders, so look forward to walking. Seems like a very un-genteel thing to find in the South, but it works.

Keep the wind atcher back! Sam & Dave

Dear friends,

A note to check in with you all before we head north. We’ve been here at Jason’s much longer than we planned, mainly because I’ve developed Bell’s Palsy. On June 26 I woke up completely paralyzed on the left side of my face. Couldn’t close my eye, couldn’t open it either; droop and drool. Talked like a cartoon character and smiling made me look deranged. Felt like I couldn’t go out in public, but have to say a few days later we met Dave’s sister in Nashville – there was a Moose Convention and a meeting of little people in town – and no one noticed me.

We went to the ER to make sure my self diagnosis was right, and when the CT scan and labs came back okay we celebrated with a lunch. An hour later we were racing home trying to beat one of North Carolina’s epic thunderstorms. Too Late. Our big awning filled with rain & broke as we drove up. We never go anywhere and leave the awning out, but we were preoccupied that morning. The steel end tube cost $200, and $260 to ship it from Illinois. Dave & Jason fixed it last Saturday,

We had a special 32nd. wedding anniversary on July first. The Swan kids prepared and served us a special dinner, complete with candles and mood music; just the two of us in the specially decorated dining room. It was maybe our most memorable anniversary meal ever!

So . . . . we are getting ready to start our journey north. I am just starting to see improvement in my face; still can’t drink w/o a straw. Our insurance doesn’t cover health care in Canada so we want to start out feeling good. The plan is to drive straight through to New Brunswick, see Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island, then go to Quebec City to see Cousin Andre and Louise Vachon. We hope to spend a month, around Sept. 10 to Oct.10 in New England and New York, then come back to North Carolina and work.

We’re still living in the heat and humidity, both running close to 100. Dave is comfortable most of the time; I’m just one large fierce looking rash.

Love to all,

Sam

Dear friends,

Not much travel news from Swansboro this time; just family stuff. Kevin gave us tickets to fly out to Tacoma for Morgan Ann’s graduation from Bellarmine Prep. It was a wonderful few days; big party, big graduation ceremony, big milestone, big gift for us. Morgan has grown into a beautiful blonde, reed-slim young woman, with beautiful big eyes and Lord knows how many thousands in her gorgeous mouth (teeth). She has turned out well. Wants to be a vet and will head to Washington State in late August. She and best friend Lindsey are currently on a graduation trip to Maui; Mom and Dad only mildly stressed. Not worried about Morgan getting into trouble, but you can’t help but be concerned about trouble wandering down the beach.

When we were in Tacoma seems like all we talked about was North Carolina and smart kids, beautiful kids, warm weather, etc., etc. Now all we are talking about is Tacoma and how special Morgan is and the yard was gorgeous and Kevin and Shelly took such good care of us. Why do we do that?

Last job was in Greensboro, North Carolina. We really liked the area, halfway between Raleigh and Winston-Salem. There are ten colleges in the immediate area, and an important history of civil rights. They have taken the old Woolworth’s Dime Store where the first sit-in occurred and made it into a civil rights museum; really interesting. We have been in other cities that were predominately black (Montgomery, Alabama) but Greensboro was very comfortable.

We are parked in Jason and Jamie’s driveway, sweltering. Found a really good dentist and are getting our teeth stuff done. When we were in middle Georgia I saw a Chiropractor for a low back strain and he did such a good job, I said, “My bite is off a little, bit, is there anything you can do for a jaw problem?” One of my bigger mistakes of the year. By the time we got here, 6 weeks later, I was in constant pain, and it was big pain, right up there with brain surgery pain! Wuh! I couldn’t tell whether it was my jaw, a broken tooth, or some kind of abscess. Awful. Anyway, getting my teeth worked on made it worse, of course, but the doc put me on a muscle relaxer and now, two weeks later, I’m nearly cured. Feels like a miracle.

Jason has been tapped as Bishop of the Havelock, NC ward of their LDS Church. We always knew he would serve as a Bishop somewhere, and even though this may not be the best time for him to have to invest the time and effort, they need his leadership and he will do well. The Mormon Church operates as kind of a WINGS personal growth program: They get together and evaluate and pray, and pick someone for each job that needs to be done. No one is a professional at the task assigned, but somehow everyone ends up doing what he is supposed to be doing, and doing it pretty well. They help one another and humility is embraced, vulnerability is acknowledged and success is celebrated. The ritual of ordaining a new bishop was very touching and we were very proud to see how Jason is respected and loved. We were also impressed by the Church’s tradition of approaching Jamie first, asking if she could sustain Jason in his role of Bishop. This is a huge thing, as he, of course, still works full time and is taking courses for his PhD, and as Bishop will have a flock to attend to. Jamie doesn’t get much of his time now, let alone with this new role. So they are in it as a unit, for the next five years or so. I’m sure there will be rewards (Dave was hoping for a car, but I think the rewards will be more in the area of spiritual strength). (Maybe a lawn mowing from time to time.)

Today is a typical Saturday for the Swan family: Jason started digging out the ditch in the front yard, to shore up the driveway, but he has gone to officiate his first funeral. Dave is taking an apprenticeship on brick cutting (for the ditch project) from neighbor Charlie, hoping to help Jason later. It is Jamie’s birthday, and she has already made two trips, before noon, to deliver/pick up kids for parties, shopping. We are taking J and J out to dinner tonight for her B’Day while Susie stays with the kids. That’s if Susie and Becca get finished with the makeover they are giving Jamie for her birthday. Xander and Katie had a sleepover with us in the bus last night and are still reeling around in pajamas, cartooned out. I’m watching the World Cup and making a quilt for my brother’s newest grandson, due in August. Life is good. (As good as it can get living in a metal tube at 94 degrees in North Carolina. We’re trying to work the air conditioners to keep it cooler, but we have limited amps available.)

We are going to Nashville early July to meet Carole, Dave’s sister, when she is inducted into some big, secret role in the Moose. This recognition is long overdue for her and we are very excited for her. I was especially excited, because I have discovered where the large black ladies shop and made some happy purchases. Actually, Indians and Blacks have similar tasted: Indians prefer things that flutter and sparkle, whereas Black seem to like sparkle and drape, but we both like bold color and the bosom reigns! Wouldn’t you know I can’t go to Carole’s coronation (because it’s SECRET), and I just know my new Tops would be admired, with a corsage of course. Poop. I’m going to wear them in Nashville anyway.

Love you all,

Sam

How we be #100!

We be leaving Georgia. There’s a chance we’ve been here too long. After three months of cold and rain, three weeks of glorious warmth, the Sultries are here. I have known Ms. McSteamy before, in the Cook Islands and North Carolina in July, but it never bothered me enough to be put off by it. Well, I’m put off. I feel as if I have fallen naked into a bed of stinging nettles! Every day some nasty little voice, or sometimes a perfectly incredulous little voice says, “Migod, you’re 70 years old!” Now that voice is whining, “You’re 70 years old and your skin is like paper and when it is damp all the time and gets rubbed (or creased or pressured), it stings and COMES OFF!!!” Gawd! I hate to complain about damp and hot when so many of you are still wet and cold, but … I’m just sayin’….

We’ve been at Richard Russell State Park on the Savannah River, which borders South Carolina. We spent a day in Augusta last week, ate poor boys at Beamies on the River (James Brown Blvd) and soaked up some southern style. Did you hear them talk about the privacy afforded golfers at Augusta National during last month’s Masters? Private really doesn’t cover it. The course is on the main highway from the NW and is as densely screened as any convent or prison. A solid green vegetative screen, no doubt with a fence in there somewhere, and uniformed security at the gate, one tiny little sign: Members Only.

The other day I was getting in the car, ready to go to work, and a slim, sprightly lady walked up to me and said, €œHow do you do? I’m Geraldine Pugh.” (Rachel, I swear this is true!) Turns out it was Geraldine’s husband Walter we had seen circling the bus earlier and sure enough he showed up for a lengthy tour. Walter is retired; Geraldine works at the prison “over to Zebulon;” administration would be my guess.

We find it interesting that once people find out we’re from Oregon, they strain to think of someone they know in Oregon. Walter says, “I have a half brother, Ed, who lives in Grants Pass.” To which Dave predictably replies, “We call it Grass Pants,” and Geraldine says “I didn’t know you had a half brother.” Ed inexplicably explains, “Well, my first wife knew … I guess I just forgot.” After that we talked about the dog Daisy, who eats what they do, and if Daisy can’t go somewhere, they don’t go. And when Daisy indicated she wanted to leave, Geraldine and Walter wished us safe travels and passed out of our lives, perhaps to review their relations.

Times like this we’re reminded once again how lucky we are to experience and enjoy the hundreds and hundreds of little pictures that make up the big picture. And to enjoy them together.

Next stop, Greensboro, North Carolina.

Love, Sam

To quote your average Georgia conversation, “Ah’ll tayell yew whuuut …” This area LEAFS out in the spring! We’ve been here before in March and April, but this year, what with all the Jan’Feb rain, and the cold March, a few days of 80 degree weather and Georgia EXPLODED in buttery greens and dogwood pinks and whites and redbud galore. The azaleas are out in every color, the wisteria hung like heavy purple grapes on every upright surface, and the pollen? Oh, Lord. We’ve never seen anything like it, either. During the worst of it, everything was covered in a fine yellow soft suede dust. wuh.

We had a wonderful time with Jason and his family at High Falls. We managed to get to the Bluegrass Festival, the wildlife park, the downhome barbecue, and had lots of s’mores! The kids went out on the lake in paddle boats and only one fell in … poor Becca, a year ago she wouldln’t have cared, Grampa called her “Gater bait,” but she has turned into a girl and is probably still checking her hair and clothes for leeches.

We just finished another Georgia job, a park in the northeast, about 60 miles NW of Athens. We were startled to find the town of Elberton is known as the granite capital of the U.S. One-third of all the granite monuments, memorials and markers come from this little town of about 15,000. Elberton was the home of Old Dan Tucker and many Revolutionary war heroes. The town surrounds a granite bowl seating 2,000 people, some seats being benches carved right out of the bowl. It’s home to the high school Blue Devils … gimmee a B!!

There are 45 quarries and 87 processing plants, with 1,800 employees here in the granite industry. Everything is granite: mailbox posts, address markers, benches, buildings, counter tops,, and the grave markers of everyone who has died here in 150 years. Elberton granite has a fine grain in the mix of feldspar, quartz and black mica, and a pleasing, smooth blue hue. Not surprising, when your town is built on the granite industry, everything looks like a monument.

Elberton is home to Richard Russell State Park, which we just mapped, and now we are at Elijah Clark State Park, 60 miles away, but also on the Savannah River. This area is known for really big bass and wild turkey. Lots of fishermen in both parks. Elijah Clark looks across the river at McCormick, South Carolina. Greg and Cathy Jensen paddled right by our site here, on their journey cross country by canoe back in the day.

Occasionally one of you will ask for photos of the people I talk to, in particular the people whose amusing accent or words I submit for a chuckle. I’m so aware that I’m nearly making fun of folks, and I couldn’t possibly ask for their picture, and then put it on my blog! And be aware, that a fair number of these folks are wall-eyed and missing teeth … how could I? I can share one picture, though. This is Andy Mathis, a veterinarian in Elberton, who has a great sense of humor and is a very fine watercolorist. Really fine. Thanks, Andy.

Love, Sam

April 2, 2010

We were in Reidsville the last time I wrote, a sweet little park in a wholesome southern town without a penny to its name. We worked hard for a week and couldn’t make a sale. This, of course, following a park outside Savannah where we couldn’t get enough sales to make a map. Wuh. So we moved on, with the park’s total understanding, to a private park in Statesboro, who still had 2/3 of the maps left from what we made last year. And the same iffy economy. With the owner’s permission we put that one back in the hopper for someone to do in the fall. Many of these private RV parks have had to take in semi-permanent renters to stay solvent; they end up looking like blue tarp city and advertisers don’t see any value in participating in the map.

So here we are in High Falls State Park, at Jackson, Georgia, about 60 miles south of Atlanta. This park has 149 sites and sees close to 700,000 visitors each year. It is just off US 75 and catches all the snowbirds, coming and going. Situated on the Towaliga River (Towaliga is Creek for “roasted scalp,” same old bad Indian story.), this park is beautiful. Think Tumalo State Park except larger. Lots of long-leaf pine, which grows very tall and straight, and branches at the top. Plus hickory, sweet gum, some kind of maple and oak. Ornamental trees are all in bloom now, with red bud and dogwood and pear trees blooming. Lots of these trees seem to be like the tulip tree, showy blossoms before really leafing out.

We are finished with this map; did very well (maybe our best ever, anywhere), and are ready to move down the road and finish up Indian Springs State Park. That park is equally beautiful, and features the springs which had healing powers for the Creek Indians. People still come with their gallon jugs and take it home. It’s supposed to be the oldest State Park in the country.

Georgia has flower festivals all month: Macon has the cherry blossom festival, the local town here has the Forsythia Fest. I’m always just amazed at the use of silk flowers when the real thing is so readily available. The Chamber of Commerce is in a newly remodeled 150 year old brick building,very large open space and beautiful inside, with large flower arrangements that have to be dusted every week! The public bathroom is mauve and black and dominated by a large, stainless steel urn full of feathers and curly sticks that come disconcertingly close to one’s eyes when using the toilet. Decor is VERY important in the south. I find very few quilting shops but hundreds of fabric shops featuring drapery and upholstery fabric.

We amuse ourselves at noticing how comfortable we are in this part of the country now. We hardly notice the lack of proper grammar, or the familiarity in conversation. There was a time and place where I would have been offended by a 25 year old waitress calling me “sweetie,” or “shug.” Asking for directions the other day, a woman told me to turn right “down at that light what tells you whoever gits there first can go.” I knew exactly what she meant (blinking red).

It is warming up, finally, 84 degrees yesterday and looking good for the next couple of days. Jason and Jamie and the kids are coming tonight to camp for the weekend. We are looking forward to it. (Hope the Easter chocolate in my closet hasn’t melted.)

Number one son Kevin sent us tickets for our birthdays, tickets to come out to Tacoma for Morgan’s graduation from high school. What a gift!! Counting our blessings, it’s no question, our kids are at the top of the list!!

Happy spring!

Sam

March 6, 2010

We left Savannah yesterday. Probably just as well, as the city is preparing for St. Patrick’s Day. This is the nation’s second largest celebration of the green, and they do it VERY well! If you aren’t ready to join in, you’d best get out of the way.

President Obama was here this past week. Didn’t seem to create much of a stir locally. I talked to several folks about it and mainly they just wanted to know why he was here.

It may be warming up, finally. The night time temp is still between 26 and 36 degrees. we’re amused at how the cold affects the locals. I can’t believe they would even SELL fur trimmed parkas in this part of the country! Florida is chilly, too, and in an RV resort, you’ll find most of the snow birds are on blood thinners!

On our way to our next stop, we traveled Hwy. 204/280 through the communities of Ella Bell, Pembroke, Daisy, Claxton and Hagen. This is raw country. No, actually it is kind of ugly. Lots of scraggle pine and dirty roadside bogs. These rural parts of Georgia are very poor; houses are old single wides or decrepit little crooked boxes. I’ve been in waiting rooms and heard women talk about their mothers getting $256 a month from Social Security.  It’s hard to even think about that; can you imagine…?

There are cotton fields out here, 60 miles west of Savannah. Georgia Pacific is around close; we see trucks full of sagging, scraggle trees, good only for chipping. The road is newly resurfaced with stimulus money. Religion is a vital part of the society, as evidenced by the Upper Room Deliverance Center and the Prince of Peace Lumber Yard.

So here we are in Reidsville, Georgia, at a tiny little State Park (29 spaces) that hasn’t had a map since 2006, and they still have 1,000 maps left out of a shipment of 3,000. Hmmmmm. (Reps don’t like to work a park where they can’t make any money.) The last map had four ads. I’m up for the challenge.

I’m not getting as much done as I used to. Quilting and painting have sort of given way to afternoon naps. Plus, our kids went together and got us a 68 inch (seems like) flat screen TV that holds me like a magnet. My eyes were rectangular slits by the time the Olympics were over. And I was TIRED! Remember, we’re on east coast time and I had to see it all, live events, recaps and reruns of the early stuff I missed. We watched a lot of curling and really liked it.

We are parked on a little lake, daffodils are blooming all around, the happy little eastern Blue Bird is at my feeder, and both Dave and I are over our colds. Life is good.

Love, Sam

February 28, 2010

Can’t believe it is almost March. We are still in Savannah, in the southwest area, on the flood-stage Ogeechee River. The Red Bud is out, Cyclomen is blooming and the Cherokee Rose is starting to bud. Georgia’s State flower, the Cherokee Rose is a vine (imported from China) and has a beautiful Dogwood-like flower. We often wish we came to Savannah in April instead of January-February.

We had a most happy connection at Skidaway Island State Park. One day we spotted a distinctive vintage Bird that could only be Suska and Lou, acquaintances from a Bluebird Rally last year, now dear friends. From Cape Cod (Chatham, Mass.), they are, like us, not your typical RVers. Not really joiners, reluctant potluckers, history buffs, wine drinkers, liberal thinkers, never heard the word “cute” applied to their persons or anything they own, with the possible exception of Suska’s bicycle. We cooked for each other and reveled in our good fortune. As we topped off a great meal with Lou’s dessert, ice cream and rum sauce over grilled bananas, and just a wee glass of Port, we laughed at the idea folks have about RVers  roughing it.  Makes us very glad we were at Skidaway in February this year, instead of April!

One thing you can count on in this lifestyle is sharing nearly everything. Dave caught a cold about three weeks ago, and all I could do is wait for it. I’ve got my fingers crossed that I can get over it without going into asthma. Wuh.

The weather is finally, finally seeming to get a little warmer. It has been cold since Christmas. Of course everything is relative and most of you are a lot colder, but somehow we feel like we should be warm: We worked hard enough to get here, because it’s SUPPOSED to be warm!

Love, Sam