Calling all citizens

So here I am, back in the Library. I slumped back into my chair and tried to listen to the conversations around me, I drifted back to the Library portacabin in Everglades City, Florida.

Ooooh suddenly it all seems just too far away. I realise that I am fighting back a tear or two.

WHAT?

Turn off your mobile phone immediately?

Hurrah, the No Assistance Assistants have rebelled, they are standing up for a change. I am happy. When did they get a backbone? No matter, the obnoxious moman with a mobile stuck to his ear has been ejected. Hmmm, there's hope for Leatherhead yet..........

But what hope for me? I am sinking here. Where are the Military Boys? Come. Come now.

America unite. Bring me back. I need you. Please please please say you need me too........

Just a small foray from Iraq, you could fly over and drop a ladder. I don't particularly relish open heights but I can try. Wouldn't like to be left hanging over the Atlantic. It's too big to swim across.

America, here is your mission, if you accept, this message will self destruct shortly, if not than I indeed shall....

GET ME OUTA HERE.......

a hurry

Dear All

Life is still kinda suspended at the moment. What with Christmas and the impending New Year.

So much to reflect upon.

Sadly I only have 10 mins before the supper should be pulled out the oven.... Well it's all M&S stuff (can't think of an American equivalent, sorry) ((just gorgeous food, but instant!)) Drat The Boy's awake, have to dash, speak soon. Just to let you know I haven't forgotton ya'll........xxxx

The eagle has landed

Dear All

Flew into Heathrow, London yesterday, very tired, and a bit sad.

CJ picked me up from the airport and to hear all the English accents was a bit odd. It had become 'normal' to hear American accents. Oh and I really loved Charlie's Tennessee accent.

Suffering from jet lag, always do the next day. Will catch up tomorrow

Back to collapse in a heap for a while right now........see ya.....xxx

The final curtain

And now the end is near ......

I am at Miami International Airport waiting for my plane thatt will dispatch me to the UK. I am still in a skirt and tee shirt with flip flops. I just can't bear to put my trousers on. It really will be the end.
Where are the Air Force boys to rescue me at the last minute? Perhaps they have taken over the plane and will whisk me back to Tucson......

One can only hope and it's that little daydream that will get me on the freaking plane. I now understand why people just up and leave.............

see you UK, see you far too soon.

Bye yall USA love ya....xxx

Tears before bedtime

Dear USA
I am quite tearful tonight. I have said my goodbye's to Tucson and now I just want to be gone. The long drive will be a welcome void for my thoughts and memories......

All your Military boys and girls were great and I am sad to leave them.

I hope the sun will shine tomorrow and propel me East.

Dear UK
I have nothing to say........choke

Sgt Winn, part 1

Dear All
Well today is my last day of running up my favourite mountain......

Actually not sure I'm going to get a chance to even do that. Having lunch with the girls later and will have to spend most of the day trying to find a way to pack 15 suitcases worth into 1. It can be done, it must be done........

I visited a local Harley dealer the other day. WOW! You just wouldn't believe the prices. They're amazing. I straddled a 1200 sportster - I want it. Cobalt blue. It fitted me perfectly. It did. I want it. The chrome was sparkling. The engine growled a low purr. I WANT IT. That's it you see, for me, that power housed in a cacophany of sublimity........ I'm in love all over again.....

Oh yeah and I picked up a flyer for a Hells Angels Christmas bash at the Bashful Bandit on Saturday. AND I WON'T BE HERE....... grrrrr


Had a goodbye supper with Marah last night then came back to help celebrate Sgt Winn's birthday. I think he had a good time, he certainly had a few sherberts......
You know how it goes:
'So we can do go karting tomorrow afternoon'
'Sure, I'll get the boys rounded up'
'Cool'
'Ya gash beatiful hur...'
'Not sure who'll be around tho'
'Dju think Lynetta?'
'Ha, I'm gonna whoop yo asses'
'She can talk American, you goddit girl'
'I gotta warn you I'm very, erm..., very, erm, what's the word?'
'Competitive??'
'Lishen to her accent it's so so...so...'
'Yeah I guess so'
'Well you are male.....'
'British'

Are all men hound dogs??

Dear All
(see how ya'll merged now!)

My thought for the day. Men and their attraction.

Are men really different in different countries?

At the beginning of this trip I think I was of the opinion that men are men wherever they are. Then I fell under the influence of some of the more American tactics, you know like chivalry, cowboys and men- are- men stuff. I was, and still am I should point out, taken with a gentleman holding the door open for me, checking my needs, the musical lilt to the accent, even the bastardisation of the English language, insistance on paying, all those little things. Ya'll even like my accent! It's all very flattering and it appears to work.

In Italy and Sicily I fell head over heels in love with all the men. They have it all; looks, mannerisms and accents. The downside: are they just a teeny weeny bit effeminate?!

In France and Belgium I enjoyed the attention and the accents. The downside: they make no bones about women being secondary to their needs.

The Spanish had the dark swarthy look but again the woman versus lover thing was strong. Is that all a Catholic thing maybe?

I didn't take to the Dutch in a romantic way. Liked to talk but maybe they're all too stoned.....

In Africa I thought they all just wanted a meal ticket.

And I was very taken with the tall, strong, no nonsense German lads

The list could go on longer but I fear I am running out of time and space.....

**** ** ****** ****** **** ******

But now I'm nearing my journey's end I'm back to thinking that all men think with their dicks, simple as. No matter how ya'll dress it up it comes down to the same old thing. And yes I CAN generalise!

Men are hound dogs.....

I'm not complaining you understand. Just noting. We can travel the globe and really have no need for the language, there is something else that propels us. At all ages.

Do you think it'll be the same when we get to Intergalactic Travel???

Are there indeed any answers to this ??

A load of nothing

Dear All

Okay so how did this happen? The time. Where on earth did it all go? It was October and all of a sudden it's December....

I do not want to go back to the UK. I just don't think I can. Connor, my darling Grandson, being born is the only thing drawing me back.

I want to keep going. Not just Tucson, I mean anywhere.

I'm not done

Days, dates and time have not registered in my head now for some time and it is a real shock to the system to have to jerk back into it.

The night before last I went out with Lynnetta. Well actually it was meant to be a girls night out but Lori was ill, Larry (designated driver) was ill and so we decide to just have a meal and early night. Ahem, well that was the plan and ya'll know me and plans........

I was having a drink in the bar with Charlie, Chris and Travis when Lynnetta came in to get me. I invited The Three Amigos to join us. As we were leaving 2 other chaps arrived and we all ended up at the Bamboo Inn in different cars and times. We all sat down at the same table and Lynetta was determined to do the boy girl seating plan. Bit tricky when there's only 2 girls to 5 boys...... Anyway I sat next to Charlie on my right and a Vin Diesel lookalike on my left. Herein known as VD, so apt..... His quiet confident demeanour housed an arrogant shite that sadly The Cincinnati Kid doesn't quite see. Ah well, he'll learn the hard way.

So, we ate, we drank, we chatted.

Oh and they took the mickey out of the way I hold my fork. Well as I pointed out, I hold it correctly, it is after all a fork and not a shovel.......

We then went on to a kareoke (have absolutely no idea how to spell that, nor am I interested) dive bar. It was a hoot. No I did not get up with the microphone, although I am sure that even my ghastly flat voice would have sounded better. They were nearly all really awful. I felt embarrassed for them. I wanted to throw rotten tomatoes at them but figured that it's not the done thing in America, everyone has a chance or right and all that tosh.......

Janis joined us after her barmaid stint at the hotel and we partied on. Us oldies danced til our feet hurt whilst the youngsters played pool and picked up even younger girls for the night. A fight broke out inside and was taken outside.

Do you know how frightening that is when you're in a strange land?

It disintergrated real quick with a handshake, all forgotton over a beer. Here the men seem men and don't have a need to prove it that much.

An equivilent in the UK doesn't usually end like that. Too much freaking testosterone flying around. Or is it a case of almost total emasculation.......

Next day I nursed a fuzzy head and was pleased to discover so was everyone else. Charlie, Chris and I went out to the Titan Missile Museum to blow the cobwebs away. And whilst I was feeling decidedy shabby, I was glad I got out and didn't waste the day. It was an ordeal for some of the time though, poor Chris fell asleep during the debriefing. That in itself was amusing but there were only 3 of us on the tour and we sat in the front row, so the poor monotoned guide must have felt uneasy! Of course all Charlie and I could do was guffaw like a couple of schoolkids. I got to be the Commander on the control panel and pressed buttons when told to. I was struggling with my concentration and dipped in and out of what was happening. A very loud bell rang to signal 'take off'. Me and Chris nearly took off faster than the Missile.....

Last night was spent talking to Lynnetta and Lori over a Sprite whilst popping in and out of the laundry room.

I very rarely drink sodas at home, not my cup of tea and all that,but as I mentioned previously I am drinking Coke a lot. My God, my teeth are suffering for it. Stop drinking Coke America, your kids even have it for breakfast. They won't have any teeth left.

Off to do a few last minute things today, heading back on Interstate 10 Thursday morning.

It seems months ago I was in Florida. Well I guess it was!

Better get snapping quickly..............

love ya'll xx

Walter Dix - postscript....

This here is Walter Dix.......

FYI - I just hate that....

Remember this??
Last Saturday me and the Three Amigo's went to Old Tucson Studios got a few good snaps. Just can't seem to get the good ones of the disc that CV Pharmacy did for me the other night.

Just got a few things to do this morning. And must call Charlene and Simon F, just have to see them before I go back. Mind you I have to let Simon B know I am not going to make it up to LA this time round.....

Tucson has a hold of me..........

A call for prohibition

Dear UK
I'm hungover
Dear USA
You know this of course.....

Oh dearie, dearie me. My head is throbbing and I want to be in my own bed wallowing in self pity. CAn't even get back into the hotel bed yet as the maid service hasn't been.

Yesterday I made a monumental decision.

This is not the time however for revealing all. It'll keep.....

I clambered over dusty trails and through dried washes in the sun yesterday in the Saguaro National Park. Look it up on the Internet, library wherever, it's absolutely amazing and I am not ready to part with it just yet.

Later in the evening I thought I would scrub up and show the Military Boys (MB's) here that I can look somewhat different to the shorts and tee shirts I seem to be in permanently now. Feeling quite pleased with myself I was looking forward to appearing in the hotel bar and their faces. And maybe one face in particular! The phone rang. Oh could it be.....?

No, it isn't

'Sarah, hi, how are you, we still on for lunch tomorrow?'

'Yeah, yeah but me and Joe are having a drink now and thought why don't you join us, it's only up the road?'

'Yeah, that'd be good, just give me directions. I'll leave in about 15mins, I have to just pop into the bar downstairs to see someone before I leave.'

Drat they're not here.....

'Just up the road' may have been true in direction terms but what she forgot to say was it was miles and miles up the road..... Sarah is an Englishwoman from Newmarket that has been in the US since 1990, married a lovely bloke called Joe from New Jersey, ex military (everyone seems to be!). We met a couple of days ago in a Nail Bar in a Shopping Mall in Tucson. Plaza Mall I think it's called. Anyway SArah and I bonded really quickly and we were chatting away so easily that Joe said it was as if we'd known each other for years. After my 3rd Margharita I notice Sarah is introducing me as her sister. Well we do have dark hair. Well, I do normally 'cept I've gone a bit blonde remember??! Actually I thought last night it was a bit yellow, ah well......... We were in a lovely little Cantina overlooking wonderous views. It was all dark and twinkly lights but I could still see that those horizons were broad.

After much merriment and offers of all sorts, they drove me back to the hotel. Well Joe did, Sarah was off her trolley! I bought a round of drinks at the hotel bar, hoping that the MB's would be there and see I was in fact female. Sarah and I did the girl thing and went to the loo (restroom) together. She discussed and disected the MB's and decided that Travis was 'hot' but knew it. (yes he is quite 'hot' but I think more youthful confidence than arrogance) Roles appeared reversed, I now felt protective of the MB's. Hey, she had got tactile with Travis as well! Actually come to think of it I may have put a motherly hand on his knee, as a shot across her bows. No doubt the SinSinNatty Kid would be lapping this attention up. With one of those big resigned sighs (the one that says 'you win' cos I aint gonna compete with your nose job, botox, veneers, silicone breasts & hair extensions) I stood in front of the mirror to reapply my new Chanel pinky red lipstick, called 'sexy'. I froze. I had started out so groomed and, I thought, quite femminine. What stared back at me was, was.... well I don't know how to describe it but it most definitely wasn't 'sexy'....... I haven't worn makeup for so long, my eyes have gotten quite dry with all the desert dust and I had clearly rubbed my eye at some point and the carefully applied makeup was sliding down my cheekbone. The rest of me fared no better. I looked a drunk mess.
Why on earth weren't the MB's there BEFORE I went out. Now they're gonna think I'm a lush (don't know what it is in American...) ((My head hurts))

Sarah managed to offend quite a few people in the bar, the rest tried to pick her up. Joe, clearly in love with her, took her home, clearly used to it. The MB's feel that Sarah has drug issues. Oh God, what next.......

The journey home is beckoning, I am resisting. I have many people to see before I go and I'm frantic that I am running out of time.

Today though I am going back to bed to read, drink water and watch TV............

Oh blast, I forgot, I've got lunch with SArah and out with Lynnetta tonight.........xx

The Tale of Walter Dix

'So there I was Lynetta, following this man I didn't know into the wilderness.....'

Walter Dix is a warm and generous man.

This I didn't realise until I was safely returned to the car park of San Pedro House.


I decided to go for a drive yesterday. A drive it turned out, to Bisbee, a copper mining town at the bottom of Arizona near the Mexico border. Before I got to Bisbee I spotted one of those brown signs indicating something of interest. Swerving and squealing off the main road into the side road I did wish these signs came up earlier....

The San Pedro House was a 1930's shack that now housed a gift shop but the excitement was the beautiful walk that encompassed it. It was taken over by the National Parks of America some years back. Now was is about 25? Drat can't remember now. Anyway it was all farmland and now had been left to seed to return to its natural state. I found a little walking map, highlighting various points of interest along the way. The one thing the Americans do is make a trail really really easy to walk. Guess it's cos they don't do much walking. Anyway I got to point 4 and I could see a small narrow path to the left, the trail on the map went to the right.

Sometimes going off the beaten track unveils much bountiful treasure and I stood there in my walking boots, long shorts and a base ball cap, pontificating the choices. Well really were they choices?

Suddenly out of the bushes appeared an older man wielding a long solid stick, waving and greeting me with a beaming smile as he said 'hello'. Yes, yes I am now accustomed to this traditional American greeting and have happily buried my British reserve and greet all manner of folk in a warm and welcoming way also. Well I think it's that, but I suspect I appear an escapee from a mental institute. But you know what? I just don't care... I'm happy!

The Older Man walks toward me and we engage in conversation. I ask is that a path down there? Is he a Ranger? The Older Man tells me many things, it's a path but not many people use it, he walks here at least 3 times a week.

'Come on I'll show you, it's a dead end but only just under a mile and then you have to walk the same way back'
'Oh right, sounds very nice'
Nice? God I'm sounding British
'Where you from, doesn't sound like Minneapolis?'
'Err, no, no it doesn't I guess, I'm English'
Given up saying British and Welsh, would confuse the populus even more I suspect...
'Oh I knew some wonderful English people, they really helped me out when I was there in the war'
'Oh right'
'Were you in the war?
WHAT? AND you've got your glasses on....
'Mmm, no, no I was born some time after the war'
'Ah'
Moment of silence. Mostly cos I still in a state of shock
'When I was in London...'
Oh Lord no, here we go...
'I was lost and you know, you English were so friendly and helpful'
'I'm really pleased to hear that, I always worry that we don't appear to be friendly cos we are underneath it all'
Underneath all what Tanie???
'Yeah, they grabbed my arm and took me where I wanted to go and showed me all sorts of wonderful places. It was real nice of them'
'Yes it was, I'm pleased'
'Well come on I'll be the guide now, I'll show you the trail, I'll repay the favour and be your guide'


So there you have it. The meltdown of Pink Icing. What on heavens earth was I thinking? I followed him. Yep you heard me, I followed him. He didn't need to grab my arm!

I followed him and thought to myself, what the effing hell am I doing, my sister was right, this place is full of serial killers and nutters. Ooh my goodness I hear water. Older Man suddenly stops and brings up his stick. I move backwards with the stealth of a cat.

'You see there? You see that bit on the fallen trunk? You know what that means?'
I see your stick and it looks very solid
'Oh right, erm no what does it mean'
It means that your going to hit me over the head and I'll be buried under the tree trunk?
'Its beavers, you know what they are?'
'Yes we have them in England'
'Oh. I didn't know that. I didn't know that'


Older Man continues on and chats as he walks. I continue to follow like a lamb. I look at him and decide that he really is a fit Older Man, he can weild that heavy stick easily, he's just walked this path now he's doing it again and doesn't have any water with him.

'Oh you from Minneapolis'

I try to remember the things that Bev M told me about self defence before I left. I had hoped I wouldn't find the need to remember it.

'Moved here 15 years ago, right'

I'm feeling that my backpack will get in the way. Drat, my super gorgeous new baseball cap blocks out some vision.

'My wife died 5 years ago'

Would I be able to throw these things off in time. Blast he does seem a healthy bloke. Hmm I wonder if he really is old. Wow, those trees are amazing. Cottonwoods can grow really big.

'I walk here about 3 times a week, no one ever comes this way...'

Shit, I AM gonna die....

I start to take pictures of the trail. No one knows I'm here. All the Military were busy today. Who will miss me. Shit. Shit Will I get to drop the camera in time so he can't delete the pics and somehow, eventually, years down the line someone will find it and know I'm out here somewhere and who did it.

I take pictures of him from behind, hoping he thinks I'm taking pictures of the scenery.

'Take as many pictures as you want'

Shit, now he can read my mind! That's because he's a serial killer and he knows my fear. How's he gonna do it? Will he use the stick over my head first? Or will he swipe it under my feet then hit me over the head? Oh God will his lair have other people in?

I decide that I will have a go at him. I could stand a good chance. I can't see a knife or gun about his person, just this huge stick. Wow, this dried riverbed under this bridge is fabulous, must take a picture. If I run now he'll know I'm onto him. Well I haven't got high heels on, my trusty Merrel boots will help, I can at least be sure footed. I'll yank my rucksack and cap off and run like the wind. I remember the path, I've been taking mental notes. Mental is right.

'So are you planning on walking the other part of the trail?'
Keep calm, very calm
'Oh dear, I don't think I'm going to have time, I am meeting friends in Bisbee and I suspect I'm already late'
'They from Bisbee and you're meeting them there?'
Does he see through this?
'They're from near Bisbee, I just spoke to them on the phone and said I was stopping here at San Pedro House and they said "well don't stay too long we'll be hungry". I'm meeting themm for lunch and then we're all heading back to my place in Tucson. Where do you live?'
'Here'

Shit, he lives in a freaking lair at the end of this dead end trail. He must have gone nuts when his wife died. OMIGOD! He probably killed her and he's been doing it ever since. They never find half these crazy people do they. They go on for decades until maybe someone stumbles across them....

'What, San Pedro river?'
'Sierra Vista, It's got a great bus service'
'Oh you got a bus out here?'
I can't believe there is so much water here and the weird thing is it's actually going upstream. Going North from Mexico up into Arizona. My head can't take anymore...

'No I got a car'

Where? Where have you put your vehicle?

'When you see your friends you can be the tour guide?'

Am I going to see my friends, am I? I suddenly realise that all his talking is his way of keeping me distracted.

I am now almost at a peak of hysteria but surprisingly calm with all my exit strategies placed.

'I think I'd better turn back if you don't mind, my friends will be so cross if I'm very late'

Finally you moron, what took you so long.....

'Oh yes we must turn back then, it's only about another 1/8 of a mile, yes we'll go back'

Now comes the tricky bit. The path is narrow and one side is the bank to the river and the other has open fields. I move toward the riverbank side, feeling safer. If we tumbled into the river we might get parted and the fall could hep distance us and part him from the stick. The field is flat and that stick will remain in his hand.
We turnabout without mishap. We continue to walk back the path we came and the Older Man continues to chat.

I decide that I must have some water. I take off my rucksack and get out the water, quietly and slowly, I don't want him to think I'm reaching for a weapon. I gulp the water and Older Man pays no obvious attention.

We get back to the open trail and I am relieved. Desperate to pee and wanting to fall to the ground giving thanks to my Guardian Angel (or was that Tony The Bus Driver...) ((That being my Regression Therapy tale))

As we get back to the manned San Pedro House Older Man tells me his name is Walter Dix. He wants to give me a hug. Ah yes well, okay, hmm, well I AM British you know and ...... I suddenly see Walter as the genuine man he is. We hug. He is so happy to have repaid his debt that he carried all those years. He tells me a littl;e more about the history of the land and I realise that much of what he told me on the trail I didn't hear through my fear of being imprisioned, tortured and slowly killed by a serial killer.

Walter Dix is a lovely man.

Young (at heart) TT on the other hand was an absolute idiot to venture into the unknown and has learned a very solitary lesson.

Do not relax so much

Oh yeah, and don't tell my Father, he'll hit me with his own stick...........

Gunfight at the Tucson Corral

'I'll buy the lady that drink Janis'

Enter Travis and Charlie, stage right......

Travis is young and brimming with confidence, or is it beer? I try to insist on paying for myself but it all seems to no avail. Isn't it lovely when young men buy old, I mean older women, drinks???

Charlie tells me he's here on vacation as he's a bass fisherman. Travis tells me he's his assistant. I tell them yeah right, Military is stamped all over them but I guess they can fish in the Military. A few Blue Moons later and we have entertained ourselves with the 'little differences' of our language. British pronunciation of aluminium cracks them up every time......... The Guys tell me they are gonna take me out with them tomorrow. I raise my glass.

That night I stay up with Travis til 4am when I finally concede defeat and take to my bed.

Tomorrow comes. As a phone call from Charlie at 7.30am. We will all meet in the lobby at 8.30am. God have I actually been to sleep?? I run the shower hoping for some miracle to wake me up. Yee gads. No hot water?! As far as miracles go, a cold shower wasn't what I had in mind.... I call the front desk. Yes they know and are dealing with it, they have no idea how long it'll be. Full stop.
Ah ha, okay, no suggestions of assistance then. Right. I sit on the edge of the bath feeling hungover, mostly through lack of sleep. Oh no this is awful, can't I just crawl back into bed? I look at myself in the mirror. Yuk. Right, cold shower it is then. Those Air Force boys won't have any problem with cold showers I bet......

I leap in, think of England, nah not really, think 'effing hell it's far worse than I imagined', lather up, rinse off and throw some clothes on. I arrive in the lobby at 8,28am, very perky and clearly having found the miracle I asked for!

Charlie and Travis are waiting for me with Chris. We then all pile into Charlie's car and head off for our first stop. Ihop (International Home of Pancakes) for breakfast. Oh I am so relieved as I hadn't eaten a thing and I suddenly knew I couldn't last longer than an hour without sustanance. As we pulled up I got a call from Darling Daughter


'Hi Mum, what you up to?'
My head feels very fuzzy and I feel a bit sick.
'Erm I'm in a car with 3 men...'
'WHAT...WHAT'
'WHAT DO YOU MEAN?'
'No it's okay they're Military...'
WHAT? NO IT'S NOT OKAY. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
Head pounding and The Guys are laughing
'Errr, we going to have breakfast at Ihop and...'
'AND?'
thump thump thump...
'And then we're off to Old Tucson, erm can I call you in an hour or so....?'
'YOU'D BETTER'
'I love you DD'
'And I love you too'

'Errm, yes may I have a short stack of pancakes, orange juice and does anyone have an Advil????'

A religion by any other name

Dear UK
I still love USA....
Dear USA
Thank you...

OKay catch up.

Friday night the lovely Marah, schoolteacher, met me at the hotel and we trundled off for supper. At the local (well other side of town and travelling in rush hour) Hari Krishna cafe. Hmmm. I could smell it as I parked the car. Remember, I'm open to new experiences??! The supper was all you can eat buffet. Ah well. I decided that I didn't like cubed tofu way back in the seventies. It was a joy however to munch on a pile of alfalfa sprouts, vegetable dry curry and lentil poppadums......

I chose water as my beverage option... A request for unleaded didn't raise a smile......

I remembered the protocol and took my shoes off as I entered the dining room. Oh blast I'd forgotton I'd have to sit cross legged on the floor and hunch over my plate! I neatly placed my new Calvin Klein navy high heeled sling backs with the array of leather Jesus sandals and Vegan boots and was placed at the head of a large table. (Oh God does this mean I'm the offering?!) I was introduced as the British friend. I now know what that 'British Friend' entails...... An offering, preferably an offering that speaks. I was famished and even my mung beans were looking desirable. Lifting my plastic fork and staring at the food piled high on my paper plate I wondered for a split second if I was supposed to bless the food, say a prayer, chant or something. Hell I was hungry so I started to munch away, deciding that if it was 'incorrect' I could always claim 'I'm British'. Seems to be working so far.....

The conversations were pleasant, I was invited to lunch with a famous artist/sculptor today. She is slightly brusque and has the confidence and manner that only a person who has comfortable success owns. It was an honour. Apparently. Nobody is invited to her home unless she really wants them there. (well don't we all think that about our houseguests??) Anyway I realised the importance of the invitation and accepted the details so generously thrust in my direction. The conversations got round to the spiritual path quite quickly after that. These people had been on a lifestime journey of fulfillment that had taken them all over the world. I was asked about my journies and faith. Ah ha! Cleverly harnessing all my years of wild and wonderful journeying I was able to regale many a trip into the unknown and finish with the statement that I found Tucson a spiritual home, bowing my head in a humble manner.

This was clearly a monumental moment for them. (Shit did that mean I was going to be sacrificed now? And I wanted seconds of the sprouting alfalfa sprouts...)

Through their body language I was aware of something behind me. I turned around and it would seem I had been seated in front of the main man, the Hari Krishna himself. Well a statue obviously. Apparently I had been 'given' to them, there is no fate or something weird. Well I wasn't going to be 'given' to any of them thank you very much. I'm British and we don't get 'given' to anyone. Well not unless you fancy the pants off them, and sad to say there wasn't anyone there that I would have willingly given myself to. And certainly not a fat man called Hari..........

Having watched a repeat of Sex in the City recently, the one where someone takes Carrie's Milano's (shoes) from a party where they too had to leave their footwear at the door, I panicked. I loved my new Calvin's. I needn't have worried, even though they were all American they were all honest and I slipped myself back into my material world and headed off to the car.

Next stop was a church. (Oh God this gets better) A Pentecostal church but some trained devotee of the Dali Lama was speaking. I assumed he was speaking, maybe he would just sit there and meditate and we would all try to tap into his brilliant and clear knowledge. When we got there (Marah is always late) we sat towards the back and entered as a rather jolly round lady, with a tight round smiley face and short electric hair, was giving some sort of group meditation. A lot of 'Omming' , which actually sounded really nice in the church, filled the room.

After a 10 min break, for which I queued that, and more, for the loo (restroom in US!) we were given the Puri something- or- another himself. He sat in front of us, proffering his pearls of wisdom. Hmm, nothing new at all, all Christian stuff, just different costumes and facial hair. Essentially his message was, material things will not get you into the kingdom of God. Grr. Religion! He dons a heavy silk brown brocade suit with a long jacket a a funny hat and he's all truth! In fact he was a pompous ass. He sat there spouting forth and his ego was bigger than the congregation put together. Couldn't anyone see that? I sat in an aisle seat and occasionally wafted my Calvin's into the aisle and admired their beautiful form. Shoes are such a work of art. Is that sinful?! Well maybe to pay lots of money but the shoe itself, please.... Hmm, was that a sinful look Mr I'm Above All That? I threw a few femine tricks into the pot. (No I won't tell you cos you men must not know!) Good Lord, or Buddha, or indeed whoever, you ARE looking with lascivious eyes, besides you've know faltered on 2 words, tee hee. But he's taken teachings from the Dali Lama direct so he's bound to be perfect.

Now now people, remember what God and Jesus said about false Gods.........

That aside it was an interesting experience with welcoming warm people. And no I did not put any money in the box, he didn't need it after all.................


So leaving the church, feeling like Eve, The Original Sin, I filled up the car up with gas (petrol) and discovered when I dropped Marah off, I'd left the gas cap (petrol cap) behind at the gas station (garage). Drove back and it was nowhere to be found.

I headed straight to the hotel bar for a long sinful drink..........


'I'll buy the lady that drink Janis'

Enter Travis and his mate Charlie, stage right.........

The Good, the Bad & the Ego

Good Morning America
What a fine day you have here.......

Dear UK, sorry to hear the weather is crap, the news is bad..........

So here I am, bursting at the seams (literally) to face the day. Yesterday I did a bit more shopping, mostly for The Boy. Walked, minimally. Ate, 4 times. Not real meals you understand but I'll document it nevertheless.

Nov 30
Breakfast:
1 small bowl Cheerios + milk
Large cup of watermelon slices and 3 blackberries
1 glass of orange juice
1 cup coffee, all courtesy of hotel

Lunch: half of beef & horseradish sandwich from Beyond Bread (couldn't eat the other half, too much) ((gave away the side of chips - crisps in UK - not a fan generally and certainly had no room))
1 bottle water

Nibbles: 1 bottle water and 1 small bag popcorn in cinema, no butter......
Then later 2 mini bean Burritos, 1 small cup of fresh pineapple & watermelon pieces, 3 carrot sticks and 4 Saltenes and a Shirley Temple, courtesy of Hotel evening canape session

Hardly setting the world or my taste buds alight....so why oh bloody why am I sooooo fat????????

(yes, I do know really so any clever dick better watch his mouth.....)

I saw the latest Will Farrel film yesterday. Can't remember the name. Yeah, that good......Has Dustin Hoffman, Emma Thompson and Sally Gyhlaaalllllkkkkyllll...... You know, Jake Gyhlllllaalll...., from Broke Back Mountain, his sister. What IS that name?!
I thought is was going to be a comedy. Didn't spend much time holding my sides. Recommend you only watch it on the tele or a free Internet download (sorry movie industry, you do it to yourselves)
Who on earth was the director? Is he a novice? All the performances were individual deliveries, no one worked with each other. Big egos the problem? And what in God's name has happened to Dustin Hoffman?! Direct the man! He has got the same syndrome as Al Pacino. They are has beens, clearly. His kooky character didn't work. It wasn't kooky. You just come across as a nutter and unmanageable, ever heard of subtle?! I'm afraid I'd have to whack that huge ego with a stick and try and get the actor out or fire your sorry ass.......
And I'm afraid Wil, stop smiling with your eyes! And for goodness sake Emma, what were you thinking? Work with your colleagues and just lighten up then your performance could have been okay. Poor old Queen Latifa just seemed to spend the entire time with a look of incredulity and an 'i've got better places to be' look on her face that really said it all.......

So errrm, thought I'd try for Deck The Halls again today!