Couldn't stop reading the Another Man's Treasure series

This Bitter Treasure,
Treasure in Exile
Treasure Built of Sand
by S W Hubbard

I liked This Bitter Treasure so much I started the next one immediately. There is only one more after these--I think?--so I should have waited.

This time Audrey gets to run an estate sale at an house that's still occupied--by an old lady who is dying any minute...supposedly. But the lady is "not quite dead yet" and the other people who mysteriously appear in the house are strange and sinister indeed. Plus there's the wrinkle that her assistant Jill has gone off to college leaving Audrey to cope with her sister-in-law as a helper. On first acquaintance, the sister-in-law is hopeless--a woman made idle and rich by marriage to a man who's not feeling it anymore but has to keep up appearances--and his trophy wife--at all costs.

Treasure in Exile was even better than the last, and this time Audrey and Ty hire a new assistant, who turns out to be a hoot. And it takes them (plus Sean, her husband) on a journey into time when she investigates the reclusive life of the deceased lady and her maid, who leave the property to a local charity for inner city children. Issues of race and prejudice are mixed in with the mystery.

And then, that one being so good, I got Treasure Built of Sand almost immediately. It was maybe not as twisty and convoluted as the other plots--I felt like some of the complexities "fell out" in a more obvious manner than her usual. But I still loved it and savored every word.

read: The Bookish Life of Nina Hill

Odd book. Not a mystery but centered around the question of what will Nina inherit from her recently deceased father? Not a romance but with a strong potential romantic interest. And central to the story is one big problem: Nina is a severe introvert who is unable to function "in society" without experiencing panic attacks.

But she doesn't. Not at first, anyway. Reading it, I felt like there was all this build-up of her as a malfunctioning societal oddball, but she behaved perfectly normally. It was very inconsistent in that regard.

Enjoyable, though, and amusing. I could see some people giving it a perfect rating.

Leaving Belton Lake. Again.

Wednesday, December 30, 2020

Travel day and rain. We knew it was likely to rain, in fact, it was as near a certainty as Texas ever gets. So the guys had taken down the satellite dish the day before and we'd tidied up most of the stuff outdoors. The one thing we left was the big outdoor rug--we knew it would get wet, but that seemed better than tracking mud into the Mammoth RV.

So we got up Wednesday morning to find it was still very warm outside. I put on gloves to walk the dogs and soon pulled them off again. I needed my hands free to scrape up the large pile of very smelly loose stool Molly deposited in a neighboring campsite. All that junk she'd been eating off the ground had finally got to work on her bowels.

When we returned I found that her brand-new dog bed in the cage had an even bigger pile on it. To our infinite good fortune, she'd put the pile in a corner on the bed and not a single bit escaped to the edges of the cage, the motor home floor, or even the pad underneath her bed. It was all contained on the dog pillow and it washed off pretty well. Of course we'll take it home and run it through the washer, but all the same we were incredibly lucky on that.

So we got as early a start as we could manage and were at the dump station at around 10:45. During breakfast it had come a shower, but it conveniently stopped while we were loading up things outside. I was wearing a tee shirt and no jacket at that point.

But when we were finished dumping and headed out (9:59 a.m.) the rain started in earnest. We stopped at the usual place, Buc'ees in Temple, and did a quick fill-up. It probably took ten minutes. Then we headed north on I-35 and it rained. Every single setting on the intermittent wipers was used on the trip over to Corsicana. When we got through Corsicana--the traffic wasn't too bad there; it was right around noon and I guess people decided to stay at home--we headed north on I-45 and it rained harder. And harder. Not the kind where you have to use high-speed wipers continuously, but the kind where when you passed a big truck you had to put them on in hopes of seeing the road in front of you. (You couldn't)

And the wind! It was horrid. Ed said that on the trip east on highway 31 he could never get Mammoth's engine to shift into high gear. It insisted on thinking it was going uphill the whole way. The wind appeared to be shifting from south to east to north, because it was pretty much in our faces the whole way. I later read that there had been a tornado, an EF0 or EF1, reported in Corsicana. ...before the lunch hour on December 30.  Well, there we were. We had no idea. I definitely didn't hear any sirens.

Despite the crummy driving conditions, it was a pretty easy trip. We passed two wrecks--one when we were just starting out, and one huge one at the I-635 / US-175 intersection in Dallas. Both were in the opposite direction, so all we head to deal with were a few crazy onlookers driving stupidly. We arrived to a wet and soggy home at 1:53 p.m.  But it was nice and dry and remarkably clean inside--I'd cleaned up before the trip--and we were soon comfortable again.

TRIP NOTES:
1. Now that the fear is off the convection oven, consider other kinds of bread. Like cheese biscuits or muffins.

Tuesday at Belton Lake

 Tuesday, December 29

Only three more days left in this crummy year. It should have been a wonderful year--the year of my retirement and my improved life habits and our expanded travels. But none of that came to be--Coronavirus ruined it all. We're unwilling to go into public places other than the gas stations, donut shops, and groceries like the HEB we snuck into a few days ago. I've had a bit of a cough and been worrying about that, but it seems to have disappeared.

I'm fighting a very sore right leg, but I can't blame that on Coronavirus. I have no idea what caused it, but my suspicion is that it came from driving Ed's truck so far. I was distracted and tense for both of our two drives and I barely noticed the scenery. Basically, I just sat in one place and drove. On a normal, expected, and relaxed long drive, I'll adjust my position and play with the cruise control to move my legs around a lot. But these last two times, no.

The flock of turkeys were over at our previous campsite (from the last trip here) in the morning when we walked the dogs. It was about 7:15 and the sun hadn't peeked out yet. It was very windy with a cold front working its way through. The sunrise was scary orangish-red and the rain is expected to start at about four p.m. We will see.

Anyway, after our walk and my morning coffee outdoors, we came in for breakfast. I'd barely gotten the ingredients out of the refrigerator when I glanced out the window and saw this:

 

I guess they know human habits!

 

 

 

Later I took Molly on a long walk, out and around the cliffs to the boat ramp. We detoured at the Turkey Roost Group Camp and took the Scout trail there. I'd said in my campground review that there were no trails here, but that was a mistake.

It was a nice little trail once I got past all the trash at the beginning. I think the prevailing winds from the parking areas and the group camp are directed so as to deposit a lot of airborne trash at the edge of that woods. We enjoyed the trail, but I needed to go pee out all that coffee I'd drunk for breakfast so we only went part way along. I'm not sure how far it went, but it couldn't have been far--the park ends a little ways from the lake and there is a private residence back in there, plus the screen shelters.

During my walk I picked up a Walmart bag and used it to carry a handful of trash that I picked up on the road. I drew the line at plastic water bottles that were still full of water--they're too heavy to carry without pouring the water out first, so why bother when there's plenty of other trash to fill my bags?

Sadly, before the bag was full I found another empty bag, so I picked that up. It didn't get full before I had finished my loop and returned. Which is good. Mind you, I wasn't aggressively climbing around in the undergrowth to retrieve litter. I was just hitting the easy pickings.

The only birds I saw for the duration were vultures, yellow-rumped warblers, and a  possible titmouse by the boat ramp. I didn't get my binocs focused quickly enough for that one.

After lunch I took both dogs on a long walk. Zack got plenty of excitement from all the deer. He acted like a teenager, pulling and straining and practically leaping in the air. He survived for the long loop around the campsite--halfway down to the water to avoid the campers, alone the road to the gate, then along back through the grass. With a lot of smelling. I wrote: I hope his legs hurt as bad as mine do tonight.

Monday, Mammoth travels back to Cedar Ridge

 12/28 Monday

Inca Doves, a bunch of 'em. So for this park, that makes: Canada Goose, Cormorant, White Pelican, Mallard, Coot, Gull, probably ring-billed, those two annoying confusing diving ducks, mockingbird, Common Ground Dove (probably), Osprey, Turkey Vulture, Black Vulture, Black-crested titmouse, no chickadees at all--strange, Bewick's Wren, Carolina Wren, Fox Squirrel and Feral Cat.  

Monday was the day to head over to Cedar Ridge COE campground so as to give Edward a shorter drive. He's working half days the next couple of days. He'll be leaving--with any luck--on January 6 to go back to Korea. Fingers crossed on that--he's going to try to attend May's interview with her.

Time elapsed inescapably, but we weren't really in a hurry. It turned out we really weren't in a hurry--check in time at Cedar Ridge wasn't until 2pm. We were at the dump station by around eleven and we arrived at the new place by 1:00 or so.  Or maybe even earlier. I heard the news twice on the radio (note to self--the Austin public radio station is 90.5 and it can be picked up scratchily here at Belton Lake).  So I'm thinking I heard the 11:00 news and the 12:00. I know I heard the end of "Texas Standard", a public ratio program they broadcast on our Dallas station also. They remarked that although it was 75 degrees yesterday and that later this week there was a chance of freezing rain or snow in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. Yippee.

Anyway we got here and had our site occupied and everything hooked up before Edward arrived. Although I think he was waiting for us to text him, so we might have got him here earlier to help with the hookups. No matter--we're used to doing it alone.

This time we had a prime spot, right by the bathroom. (sarcasm there) We did have a lake view, but the roof of our covered picnic table blocked it from inside the motor home. It was foggy and misty outside but fairly warm--light sweater weather. I dawdled over lunch and jelly beans until I could wait no longer...

Later. Round about four o'clock I finally got the legs moving on a long jog. I'd like to say 55 minutes, but with all the times Molly stopped to smell or eat junk off the ground, it was really a lot less. We went over to the Turkey Roost Group Camp and found all the turkeys there, plus the deer I hadn't been seeing around the campsites. They seemed a lot larger than they had last time I saw them.

I also jogged around the screened shelter area. It was pretty much deserted. But a very pretty place to be in the spring.  I found a bilboard with some history of the area posted....

I returned to find the ham cooking in the convection oven. So we were finally getting over our mistrust of the convection oven--up until this trip, we had only used its microwave feature. Frankly, with it being so old--presumably ten years old, same as the Mammoth RV--I was worried it might catch fire.

But no, it performed like a champ. Maybe we'll try some baking next! We'd cooked the brown-and-serve rolls in in the day before, and they were just fine. I mean, the rolls themselves were a little flat because I didn't let them rise long enough. But the taste and brownness were great. And now we've done ham, and tomorrow is going to be the big test--pot roast.

Ed and Edward finished the Charmed! episodes and started watching Castle. The episodes were pretty old but I didn't remember them, and I watched pretty much one entire episode before getting bored and starting back into reading a novel. I'm just not a television person, I'm afraid. Unless I have something to do with my hands, like knit. Which reminds me--I have a knitting project I've been carrying around for months and not started. It's time.

Sunday at Inks Lake, family time

December 27

Today felt like Christmas Day for us. We got up and had a large, late breakfast--pancakes on our new, two-burner griddle. We wanted it because with a single large skillet on the small gas burners, we could only cook about four small pancakes at a time. And that time was a long time.  On the first attempt, they turned out perfectly but cooking a half recipe took forever--by the time we had one serving of cakes ready, half of them were cold.

On the second attempt I turned up the heat a little and ended up with my historical norm for pancakes--burned on the outsides, raw on the insides.  So we decided to see if you could get a griddle that would cover two burners at once, and at the same time distribute the heat better so we could at least cook a single serving all at the same time.

The one Ed found was iron, and while it was heavy as a chunk of lead and almost too large for the stove, it still worked a lot better than the single large skillet did.  They weren't the best pancakes I ever made, but they were a whole lot better than my previous attempts.

So, after all that, the guys sat around idly for a while and then I cajoled them into coming for a walk with me. It was about 11:00 and a whole lot of other people had the same idea--the parking lot at the trailhead to Devil's Waterhole was nearly full and the trail pretty much so. (We walked over there, not needing the parking lot, but I happened to notice.)

We used the walk as a training exercise for Molly--every time (and there were a lot of those) we passed another dog, she had to go off the trail and sit at attention until it went on by. She didn't like that, but she enjoyed it.

We stopped short of going on around the trail to the scenic overlook, but that was okay. Ed's back was bothering him and that was more than enough hiking for him--probably about two miles total. At least we all got outside in the sunshine and fresh air--we should sleep well.

After that I sat around outside while they watched Charmed episodes on the DVR. I read a little and watched birds a little. I got a pretty decent look at the black-capped titmouses in the tree nearby. Tufted Titmice have a dark forehead and a gray crest; Black-Capped Titmice have a white forehead and a black crest. I for sure saw the black crest and I think I got a glimpse of the forehead.

I wish I'd gotten a picture of the: the faucet at the nearby campsite was dripping ever so slowly, maybe at the rate of two drops per minute. The titmouse would cling upside-down on the faucet and sip a drop or so--it was very amusing.

And so was Molly--she was tied to the aluminum/wood picnic table and when a squirrel taunted her from a nearby tree, she moved the table several feet over.

Our nearest neighbors had been a little noisy for the last two days but on this day they finally left. Not noisy in a bad way--they were just young. A family with a couple of preteen aged sons, I would have guessed. No reason to use your "inside voices" if you're outdoors at a picnic table.

But they were hardly gone an hour before they were replaced. This new set of neighbors just had a tent and an SUV and they were even quieter than us.

In the morning, we'd gone off and left Zack behind and I'm happy--and surprised--to report that he wasn't yap-yap-yapping when we returned. On other occasions he's barked his annoying little Shi-tzu bark for hours.

It was a lovely afternoon, way too warm for December. The high was probably mid-seventies, or even 77 as the weather forecast predicted. It was clearly "shorts" weather, and guess who'd left all her shorts behind?  Yes, me. When I was packing, I pulled out the shorts from my clothes cabinet and replaced them with pants. I was lucky to have left a few short-sleeved teeshirts.

As much as I enjoyed the weather, it worried me. Of course Texas weather is screwy and has been screwy since time began. But still--seventies in December? Not right. I saw several bees out searching for the flowers which were still dormant for winter. I can hope that at least the aluminum can dispensers supplied a diet of sugar rich soda for them.

By the way, here's one of the evil stickers from a previous camping trip. Found in my sock:

After a lonesome lunch at the picnic table, I read a little in my book and tried to take tufted titmouse pictures. After a long, lazy--and a little lonely--while, I went for another hike. This time Molly and I went back to the trails that start by the amphitheater. The parking lot there, which is for both hikers and primitive campers, was pretty full but beginning to empty out at about 3:30. Still, we had a lot of opportunities to practice "off the road" and "sit" while we waited for dogs and groups of people to pass us by.

The plan was to go to the big slope of bare-ish rock and climb all the way to the top. But when we got there, it was already occupied. A couple of young ladies and a handful of children were playing on it. I found a sitting spot and waited while one of t e ladies let her girl go almost halfway up, only calling her back because she was out of eyesight. Way to go, mom!  Girl power rules!

It wasn't long before they went on down the trail and Molly and I could ascend. I found myself getting winded several times, heart beating way too fast. It wasn't really a climb, just an uphill walk. Much like stairs, and probably no more than 30 feet of ascent. But it was nice up there.

And back. I don't understand why I was feeling lonesome, exactly, and it was only a little bit. I called my brother and got it out of my system.

Gumbo for supper, and with it we baked one of my two pans of brown-and-serve rolls from the "red checked" cookbook.  The history of this is that I wanted to device a method I could make rolls to take camping (for Christmas dinner). the first recipe I found had me  do a first rise, then shape the rolls and freeze them. Then, four hours before you wanted to bake the rolls, you set them out and let them rise slowly from the frozen state until time to bake. I tried that recipe too, and while the rolls were nice and fluffy, they weren't great tasting.

Then I tried the recipe from the cookbook, but I accidentally disturbed the dough during the second rise and they ended up flat. They tasted okay on the outsides, but they didn't cook correctly because there was no air inside.

Then I noticed the cookbook had a cooking method that had you do all the steps for making the rolls, two risings and all, and then bake them partially at a low tempraerature before freezing. Once frozen, when ready to cook you thawed them briefly and finished browning them in the oven. So that's what I did. I ended up with three 9-inch pie plates of rolls, the first two fo which I did with the partial baking method.  I froze them to bring with, then baked the remaining batch to try at home.

Well, that remaining batch ended up getting 20 extra minutes of rise time, and they were excellent. if only I'd let the first two have that extra time, they'd have been awesome.

Anyway, they were more than adequate and certaiinly better than most supermarket bread. We had one of the two plates today, cooked in the convection oven, and will have the second one when we eat our Christmas ham.

Friday and Saturday at Inks Lake

Friday, December 25

Today Edward left at 7:30 to go work a 24-hour shift, leaving us to dawdle over breakfast and then get ready to move sites. Checkout time was 12pm and we wanted to be ready to vacate our site before someone else came in to occupy it. So other than tidying up, vacuuming and talking to folk on the phone, we didn't do anything except wait.

Bye, old site:

Finally, at a little after noon, Ed went ahead and took the Mammoth to the dump station. But the people at our new site still hadn't left--when I took the truck over and parked it at a nearby overflow parking spot, a young guy was perched on the ladder of his RV and flying a remote controlled helicopter. Christmas presents, we supposed, and those things take a while to charge up before you can use them.

But the new people for our site were there, so we just sat around and waited in the parking lot for a bit. Not too awful long, though. So with all that, it was one-thirty or so before we were all done, reparked, re-leveled, rehooked and ready for lunch. It was clearly too lake to do a road trip to Balcones Canyonlands, but not too late to go see the Inks Lake fish hatchery. It was unlikely that would be open on Christmas day, either, so we chose to stay home.

My brain was still mired in the deep fog from the previous day.  The only interesting thing that happened was that Mollydog and I took a long walk over to the trails that started at the ampitheater by the entrance station. We took a nice, well-traveled trail over to the water. At one point it went over a big, rocky slope:

 
On the way back my inner mountaineer emerged and I just had to climb the slope. I got halfway and still didn't have a great view of the lake, so I decided to leave it for another day. Cool rocks, though. I assume this vein of white running through the grayish-black rock is quartz?  Need to check.

Since there was no Edward for Christmas dinner, we ate leftovers. And then it was bedtime.

 

Saturday, December 26

Ed and I left early (about 9:30--for us these day, that was early) to drive over to the Balcones Canyonlands national Wildlife Refuge. We went to the headquarters/visitor center first, but that was closed. Luckily the restroom was not. We didn't take the Headquarters Trail, but it might have been worth a try.

There are a lot of nice, well-maintained and heavily used trails in the Wildlife Refuge. It's not that far from Austin, after all.  the country is very rugged--not exactly what I'd call canyon country, but the cow creek we drove along was forming a half-way decent canyon along one side.

After leaving the closed visitor center, we drove to Doeskin Ranch and Warbler Vista. It was a long, interesting drive along a curvy road over many cattle guards. It appears that the refuge consists of a little pieces of ground loosely strung together amid huge expanses of private ranches. At Doeskin ranch, there were a lot of lovely trailheads and a lot of lovely people preparing to walk them. But that wasn't our goal, we were simply there to look at scenery.

The third--or was it fourth stop--was simply a pavilion in a field which would be prime habitat for all sorts of birds. Shin Oak Observation Deck, per the website, is is set in excellent black-capped vireo habitat. With patience and some good binoculars, you might see one of these beautiful little birds. Definitely listen as they can be heard singing almost continually. Shin Oak is the best available public viewing area for vireos in the refuge. 

But not this time of year. The only birds we saw were mockingbirds and roadrunners.

The dominant plant species, and pretty much the one thing that overwhelms your mind and senses, is the Ashe Juniper (you call it potato; we call it cedar) that covers the hills. They're small  trees, well-spaced from each other, but all together they make a dense cover.

The trip back was a lot shorter than the one out. We stopped at an H.E.B in Burnet and got a gallon of ice cream to go on the apple pie we'd made for Christmas.

Molly and I then took a hike through the campgrounds toward devil's waterhole, but when we got to the trailhead we turned around because there were so many people on the trail. And dogs. Luckily, all under control. Molly got plenty of practice in "sit off trail and let the scary dogs go by." She is improving.

All the birds we saw were Bewick's Wrens, a bunch of infuriating little doves that were probably Common Ground Dove, and an almost certain Black Crested Titmouse or two.

That evening I reviewed the pictures I'd made of the pair of diving ducks out in the lake. I looked at dozens of pictures, and still couldn't fully decide if they were Common Meganser or Red-breasted Merganser.  When I get home and have Wifi, I'll check them against AllAboutBirds.org. (Note: they were Common Merganser)

Christmas present

 

Christmas Eve at Inks Lake

 Thursday, 12/24

The temperature dropped precipitously during the night, from a high around 70 to a cold, overnight low. Edward arrived at about ten a.m., just as I was getting ready for a long jog. By the time I returned they guys had done all their talking and Edward was napping on the sofa. We weren't technically supposed to let him sleep--he had the rather intelligent plan to trying to stay awake as much as possible so he could go to sleep at night--but how do you wake a sleeping son?

some veins in the rock -- need to check my geology book for this:

The jog was very enjoyable and I don't remember that we did anything else interesting all the rest of the day. Ed grilled steaks and salmon; we all ate together and watched Impractical Jokers.

It wasn't until the next day that I realized my brain had gone zombie for the trip. I think it was the heartsick worry over our precious Jeep--pushed into the back of my mind but nonetheless there, niggling me. I didn't feel up to writing anything in this journal; I didn't even pull out a book to read. I just sat and did crossword puzzles while staring at the television.

Did I see any birds? Who knows. Canada Geese, Coots, Osprey, Yellow-rumped Warblers, Mockingbirds, Ruby-Crowned Kinglet, Black Vultures, and suchlike. 

We exchanged Christmas presents. And that was that.

Mammoth Rocks! Inks Lake For Christmas

Wednesday, 12/23/2020

As we got ready to leave, it was so warm and pleasant that I changed from a long-sleeved shirt to a thin tee shirt. Ed was wearing shorts, but that seemed a little too much. Or should I say, little?

We got out later than hoped--10:10-ish rather than 9:30. Sitting on highway 380, four miles from home, waiting on the wrecker,  I could tell that the temperature was dropping. (Our Jeep blew up and had to be towed to the dealer) When the Jeep was safely on the tow truck heading away to the dealer, we made the decision to continue with our trip. I wanted to take the truck rather than go without a backup vehicle, so we went back home and picked it up. We ended up leaving--for the second time--at about 12:30.

So now I was driving instead of riding in the RV, and that kept me preoccupied all the way, so I didn't enjoy much of the scenery. Of course it was the same old, same old to us--Sam Wrayburn Tollway (SH-121) to Fort Worth, then Chisholm Trail parkway south. The only wrinkle in that plan was that I hadn't fully sync'ed the route with Ed. When we got to downtown Fort Worth and my phone told me to take the left fork to stay on the highway, he ignored it because that would have taken us on I-35. I'd meant for him to avoid 35 EAST, not WEST. So he ignored the phone's directions. That was no big deal--those sort of things aren't a big disaster anymore like they used to be--but it did result in an unnecessary detour though downtown Fort Worth.

No matter, as I say. The GPS app on his phone got us back on track shortly and then we were on Chisholm Trail Parkway. The rest of the trip was routine. We made a fill-up stop in Lampasas (I think), and then it wasn't much farther into the park.

At the time we arrived, somewhere between five and five-thirty, it should have been easy sailing at the gate. But the office was closed and the guy manning the temporary gate was incredibly slow--he ended up giving Ed a hand-written "temporary" windshield tag. Ed went on, but I had a little...shall we say...issue.

Back at the gas stop, I'd gone to the restroom in the Mammoth-mobile and left my phone on the bathroom counter. I realized it as soon as we started to go, but I couldn't signal Ed to stop--he was already out on the highway heading away. So I decided to just do without it. And sure enough, I didn't need it--until we got to the gate. I had to wait for the slow guy to give me my own temporary windshield tag, and when I finally got it and pulled away, Mammoth had vanished.

No big deal--rather than go back and get a map since after all I had a map on my phone (except I didn't have my phone) I decided to wing it. I turned left when it should have been right. After circling around multiple camping loops for a long while, I went back to the beginning and turned right. But this time I missed the turn for our campsite because I didn't know the number.

Eventually I realized it was written on my tag. Looking for site #88, I went through loops for sites 120-132, 140-180, went back and found 61-72, assumed I was getting close....nope. I was back in the 100's again. Finally I went back to the front gate and started over, and of course, the loop including #88 was the very second one I passed.

All this canoodling around cost me half-an-hour and it was getting dark when I finally backed into our site. Ed had parked, leveled, and done the hookups without me. Which was fine, only embarrassing.

After that we were pretty much exhausted. I walked dogs while Ed cooked supper, then we ate and sat around in agony and lethargy for the rest of the evening.

The wind, which had shifted to the north and whalloped us all day. didn't ease up after nightfall. Mammoth shuddered and sang to the racket. I might have laid awake all night but Ed turned on the bedroom fan and its humming drone drowned out the wind. It was still out there, making Mammoth Rock, but we weren't troubled by it in the least.

Not all that much

Jane Darrowfield, Professional Busybody

by Barbara Ross

I don't know. Sigh, hugely. I found this very enjoyable, but I don't see it going anywhere. She has another book in the series,, so I guess I'll read it before pronouncing judgement.

I really love the idea of an older lady as the amateur detective--I don't remember that she ever told her exact age, but I got the impression it was mid-fifties. She was old enough to convince the people in a retirement home that she might be moving there. But she never seems to complain about feeling old.

Never the mind--I like the idea and I liked her. And the plot was nice and twisty. All in all, everything you'd ask for in a cozy. So why wasn't I anxiously clamoring for another?

if I knew the answer to that, I'd know a lot more than I do now.

Some new stuff here but a lot I already knew

The Body
A Guide For Occupants

by Bill Bryson

Very good, especially at the beginning. Later on it got a little shallow, in that he seemed to be just repeating things everyone knows. Or maybe not--maybe it's just me. I know a decent amount about gut flora and infectious diseases, so I wasn't learning anything new. But it was still entertaining to read.

And snarkily humorous, throughout. Highly recommended. For everyone.

a quote: 

What is surely most curious and extraordinary about our brain is how largely unnecessary it is. To survive on Earth, you don't need to be able to write music or engage in philosophy--you really only need to be able to outthink a quadruped--so why have we invested so much energy and risk in producing mental capacity that we don't really need? That is just one of the many things about your brain that your brain won't tell you.

I'm not sure I agree--if you've ever read Born To Run, you'll understand all the complexity of thought involved in tracking down a quadruped and running it into the ground. It's more complicated that philosophy, that's for sure. Maybe not music. But maybe I'm just saying that because I have more respect for music than I do for philosophy.

 

Monday, Leaving Cedar Ridge. Again.

December 7, 2020

Edward was gone by five a.m. or earlier, so I got up to an empty bed and a bit of loneliness in the air. But just a bit--for once, I was eager to go home. I wanted to resume planning our springtime trips. Talking to Edward and trying to explain why we didn't feel enthusiastic about traveling far, on account of Covid, made me feel like we were wimping out. Very few states in our area have travel restrictions right now, and we aren't in contact with any other people when we travel. Yeah, we miss getting to go to restaurants and farmer's markets. We'd like to be able to hit a museum or two, or at least wander through some historic downtowns. But we can at least be outside, hanging with the turkeys.

The drive was good. Traffic on I-45 was pretty rough, but the 635 loop around Dallas was not too crowded. We were leaving the dump station (where we dumped and then hooked up the boat) by 11:23. I failed to note when we we arrived, but I finished backing the Jeep down the driveway at 3:23 so we probably arrived at about 3:05. I'll call it 3-1/2 hours--not bad at all.

NOTES
Fort Parker State Park sites are 30-amp only. Don't come here in summer.

Sunday at Cedar Ridge

 December 6, 2020

There were tons of little birds in the trees that morning. I wished I'd gotten up earlier--I snoozed until almost 7:30. When I finally got out to look, it was Ruby-crowned kinglets, mostly, but there was a wren or two that could have either been Bewick's or Carolina. Sounded like Carolina. Then I saw a pair of slim, dark gray birds fly into the trees and disappear. I could have sworn I saw a flash of red on one of their heads. Best guess I can venture, they were Gray Catbirds and the "red" I saw was the rufus color under the tail.

After that I made pancakes, which I burned slightly around the edges. Why do I have to be in such a hurry, that I always make pancakes that are burned on the outside and raw on the inside?  I got it right last time...but it seemed to take a short forever. Maybe the answer is one of those 2-burner griddles that lets me cook more at once. There would be no rush, because the first batch would be enough for two people and the second batch would finish up the batter.

Still slightly sore from the one-hour jog of two days before, I took a quick 45 minute jog during which I saw an Osprey and a Roadrunner. It was almost warm enough to sit outside, so I sat outside to eat a bit of lunch. Sitting in the sun with the breeze on my back, it was bearable. A lot of people left but not as many as I'd hoped--by the end of the day the campground was about 1/4 full. The people next to us, with the annoying bright light, stayed. But I didn't see a sign of them all day.

I wonder, sometimes, how many of the people I see might be full-time campers. At $24/night it is cheaper than a $1000/month apartment rental, and the biggest downside is that you have to move every few weeks because the COE won't let you stay in one spot for very long.

The old guy in the van came in, too. Actually, I don't know how old he is. All I know is that I've seen him here and on the other side of the campground several times now. He drives an old green-ish van, and he sets up a hot plate and teakettle on the picnic table. I frequently see him sitting outside at the table, doing what appears to be nothing. (No computer; no cell phone.) Is he a writer? An independent contractor? A bum?

Around 2:30 or so we headed into town to play disc golf at Heritage Park. I played as badly as always--the only good shot I got in was a putt at one of the longer holes that we happened to be walking by to get to the next tee. If we'd been counting, it wouldn't have counted.

The plan for the evening was sushi, so we had to cut the golf short and head back to start supper. We barely got in nine holes. Sushi doesn't take all that long to prepare--the rice which takes about 45 minutes to cook and 30 or s minutes to cool down enough to handle. It's the tempura vegetables that take a while -- a good hour.

While we were working inside, deer moved through the campsite. Here's a picture of them taken through the window.

Shortly afterward, a flock of turkeys meandered through. Cool!
The guys counted twelve or more of them--I was too busy tempura-ing.

A bad day fishing....

Saturday, December 5

Edward got up early--for him--at about eight o'clock. With all the bumping and banging around we were making, no wonder. But he soon discovered he'd forgotten to bring any pants to wear today, so off he and his Dad went to pick up his pants and, incidentally, get doughnuts. Our traditional Saturday morning with Edward breakfast--based on one or two occasions--Dunkin' Donuts.

Meanwhile I had my own breakfast and a long, delicious hour looking up times and dates on the computer. Then Molly and I got a 44-minute jog (supposed to be 45 but I failed to check the clock). And then I started watching the little birds in

the bushes by camp. There were a surprising lot of them. The only ones I ID'ed for mostly certain sure were the chipping sparrows.

Fishing presented some serious problems. It wasn't supremely cold or even very windy, but we experienced equipment malfunctions. I feel responsible for them all. First, I couldn't get the motor to go down in the water, and on account of that, I couldn't get the reverse gear to pull me back off the trailer. Edward had to climb in and push me off.  Still the steering wouldn't hardly work at all, but I assumed that had something to do with the motor position. Typically when the motor is tilted a bit, like when we're coming into shore, steering is harder.  But I couldn't get the motor to go down!

When I explained this to Ed, he say, duh! He'd left the motor locked in its half-down position. All he had to do is flip the switch and voila.

But then when we were landing I still could absolutely not make it steer to the right at all. I had to use a combination of reverse and forward motion to crab it over to the dock, where I turned over the steering to Edward. I did not suddenly become weak--there was definitely something wrong with the steering. We're thinking possibly a bit of hydrolic fluid would do the trick.

Fishing was slow. There were crappie down there, but they seemed to be small ones. I managed to torture a small bass into taking my minnow. He was about six or seven inches long.

Nothing much to report for the rest of the day. Dog walk; hanging out; enjoying ourselves. Watching deer wander through the campsite.

Friday at Cedar Ridge Park

Friday, 4 December 2020

Notes from the time:
We don't have anything planned to do for today. Molly will get a long walk, of course, but no jogging--my legs are still sore. Maybe I'll take the camera and see if I can get a good picture of a canyon wren. Then later, when it warms up, we can run over and see the little waterfall at Stillhouse Hollow. There are lots of interesting thiings to do in the area--Bell Museum at Belton, the mammoth exhibit in Waco, shopping...but nothing we especially want to do during the reign of Covid.

Or we could go fishing, but it's awfully cold. Not my cuppa. At least when it's excruciatingly hot and you go fishing you can always jump in the lake. (you can--I won't. But I can lower myself over the side)

Or I could work...

Or not. It's funny that here, here where we are only 75 miles west (and a little south) of Lake Fort Parker, the terrain and birds are completely different. Here it's all low cliffs with a lot of bare rock; cedar and post oak; scrubby grass. It was as if we'd crossed an invisible "dry line" in the terrain.

I took the dogs on a morning meander, wading down a path to the water, then walking on the big and small boulders around the edge. I heard a canyon wren but it was way across the canyon.  Which is not really a "canyon", but it was across the lake and the lake is sort of in a canyon. I saw an osprey, and while I was watching it, a bald eagle.

By the way, on the drive over here we saw a Crested Caracara in a field near the road. Vultures were wheeling around and so I looked over to see what they were looking at, and there was the Caracara!  Ed, driving the motorhome, saw it too.

After my walk, we went for a walk. There was nothing special on the agenda so we went over to see Chalk Ridge Falls on the Lampasas River, just below the dam that makes Stillhouse Hollow Lake.  The Lampasas river is only about 100 miles long--after the lake if flows into the Leon River, near Belton.

For reasons I can't imagine, at that point the rivers are renamed to "Little River". So how did I cross the Leon River while traveling down I-35? Aha! The convergence is about eight miles east of I-35.

An interesting note from the web:
The Lampasas river is the northernmost and westernmost river in the natural range of the American Alligator, which is still found there. In June 2015, two men were arrested for shooting and killing an alligator that they found on the river. 

 

 

Our walk was memorable because of the suspension bridge that you had to cross to get to the best viewing area of the falls. It was bouncy and swingy and Molly did not like it. (Neither did I, but I just closed my eyes and held on tight.) The drop below was only about ten feet and the water only about eight inches deep.

 

 

We did nothing else of interest that evening, but that's okay. We were content to hang out with Edward and eat leftover Thanksgiving Dinner. Without the dinner rolls, which I'd left in the freezer at home.

Mammoth Leaving Fort Park

Thursday 3 December 2020, at Belton Lake

In the morning our lakefront campsite was especially nice because flocks of robins and cedar waxwings were plopping around in the mud at lake's edge. An occasional robin would sing a partial bar or two, practicing for the summer serenade, but mostly it was just the cheery chatter amongst themselves. There were a few yellow-rumped warblers in with them, and a phoebe. I didn't hear a chipping sparrow but I was pretty sure I had the day before.

Out on the lake the gulls were congregating in a tight group--should I guess there's a school of shad just under the surface there?  The Pelicans and cormorants have moved somewhere else, but I can guess they're still on the lake somewhere. It's too bad this lake is so close to home, because I want to come back and fish here sometime. Supposedly there's a boat ramp up in the ?? river. When we took the trail on Tuesday and returned on the Park Road, if we'd turned left instead of right the road would have taken us to it, but I didn't want to walk Zack so far. But now I'm curious if it might be a good place to fish. I'll guarantee it's a good place to bird watch.

And that's all the bird watching I got--it was time to head out to Cedar Ridge Campground on Belton Lake . I seem to have misplaced my notebook, so I have no statistics on the route we took or how long it required. I was reminded of my solemn promise which has been broken. Again.

Always plan all routes before the trip.

Without a good plan, I let Ed's phone route us and it took us on some weirdo adventure that involved detours through small towns, 4-digit roads, and business routes. We only had a 1-1/2 hour drive, so I didn't think it mattered. And it didn't--it was just silly.

The campsite I was able to snag was not one of our favorites, but I liked it just fine. It's up the hill a little from the one we occupied last time, so it doesn't have quite as a good a view of the water but you can still see it, plus it just might be warmer up higher. When we left the sun was shining and a stiff breeze was blowing, but when we arrived it was completely overcast, windy, and cold as heck.

We did the hookup thingy and, since freezing temperatures were forecasted, Ed hooked up the insulation and heat-wire device for the water intake hose. After that there was time for a quick lunch (me) and a nap (him), before I had to go jogging and he had to start supper. But on steak night, it's always my job to prepare the skewers of vegetables. By the time I did that and got moving, it was after four o'clock. No matter....

Except for all the dumb deer. Molly and I jogged down to the boat ramp, around the cliff in the group area, back to the entrance gate, then back and around. Everywhere we went there were deer. All of those stinking deer. Eventually I determined to make it a full hour of jogging, so we did. But it was getting dark when we returned.

Ed, meanwhile, had seen a turkey. In the campsite!

Mammoth at Fort Parker 2nd day

Wednesday, 2 December 2020

This morning our campsite and the whole area around it was inundated with birds. The sky was overcast and gloomy, but there'd been no rain other than a light misting sometime in the night. I saw a million yellow-rumped warblers and robins; I heard a (probable) chipping sparrow or two. Also house finch, phoebe, cardinal, grackle, turkey and black vulture. Out on the lake there was a huge flock of pelicans sprinkled with cormorants and a few gulls. There were Great Blue Heron, of course--one seemed to like to spend the night right by our campsite--and a couple of Great Egrets.

 

 

 

Note from the morning:
While there is still some morning left, I need to put on my contact lenses and go do some "serious" bird watching. But that would mean taking a dog. And it's chilly. And I could just sit here with my computer and the space heater and sip coffee all morning....

And now it's raining. Pooh.

It only sprinkled a little, then stopped long enough for me to go fetch the leashes and slippers I'd left outside. But then it started dripping more. I have only good memories about Mammoth and the rain--so far. There are always pleasant things to do inside. And so far, every time we've had rain, we've been at a spot where we can look out and see water or birds or at least the rain drops falling.

Note from the time:
It appears to have driven away the little birds on water's edge, but I just saw a kingfisher race by. The pelicans are gone (no--they've just moved up a little), but the lone duck-like bird is still floating around out there. I think it's a pied-billed grebe. I frequently see one of them--only one--in the huge lakes we visit.

I wrote this review for campgroundreviews.com:
Lovely little park, nestled around the shore of Lake Parker. The trees are full of yellow-rumped warblers and robins; the lake with pelicans and cormorants. There's no litter at all--in fact, it's probably the cleanest state park I've ever been in and I saw the rangers out picking up stuff first thing this morning. And very quiet--of course, I'd expect it to be quiet on a weekday in December. I can hear road noise in the far distance.

Sites are asphalt; showing a little age but very usable. We were able to level without additional blocks. No roofs over the picnic tables but plenty of shade. The lake is to the south of us, so we could easily get a satellite signal, but sites away from the water might have trouble. The camping loop we're on has pull-thru sites on the water side and back-in sites across the road, up a slight incline and in the taller trees. Those sites have a partial lake view, obstructed by the water-side campers. Plenty of room between sites; you can see your neighbors but not hear them. Some sites are very long--ours held a 32' RV, a boat and a jeep. Some are much shorter
.
Water hookup worked fine. Only 30-amp electricity at our site; didn't check the others. AT&T cell phone signal fine.

The campground map indicated that there were a few walking trails, mostly along water's edge. On the first day Molly and I walked a little way along one--it was beautifully maintained and easy to follow. But we saw people up ahead and decided to turn back.

There was also a 2.5 mile trail up to a lake overlook, but I didn't get a chance to take it. The contour map implied it would be about a 20' elevation change. Instead, Ed and I took the dogs on the little trail over to the Lake Springfield cemetery; it was nicely maintained.
 

Note the "died of Mexican violence"

The park encompasses the historic town of Springfield, established in 1838. When Limestone County was created in 1847, Springfield was its first county seat.

Here is what the website says:
At its peak, Springfield’s population was greater than either Dallas or Houston. Springfield began to fade away in the early 1870s after the railroad bypassed the town and the courthouse burned. Groesbeck became county seat in 1873 and the Springfield post office closed in 1878. Springfield soon became a ghost town.

Only the cemetery remains. It is the final resting place of many East Texas pioneers, including an American Revolutionary War veteran and two veterans of the Battle of San Jacinto.

But another web site ways that it thrived from the 1840s through the 60s, but...

After local plantation owner Logan Stroud read the Emancipation Proclamation from the steps of his Bur Oak Springs planta-tion, racial conflicts and martial law plagued the community during the years of Reconstruction. Springfield found new life as a community of African-American freedmen after the railroad bypassed the town for Mexia and Groesbeck. Today all that remains of Springfield are the springs and the cemetery. Towering trees shade the graves of former Springfield residents including plantation owners, African-American freedmen, and early Texas Revolution veterans Sanders Walker and Joseph Penn Lynch.

I don't see it, though. There weren't very many marked graves in the cemetery. However, the area inside the fence was very large and had room for a lot of graves whose markers may not survive to this day. It would be interesting to see how many people were documented to have been buried there.

We walked back, enjoying the weather. It turned out to be a cloudy evening.