What I won’t do for my crew.
As I shared with you recently, Bridget and Spike are on a raw meat and bone diet, which is a royal pain in the a*% for me, their sole provider. It’s easy enough to keep stocked with raw meat while camped near a Wal-Mart or other substantial grocery. I have to visit a market more frequently with the crew on this diet because my fridge and freezer aren’t very big.
Spike hurries to catch up with me and the Bridge.
Quartzsite is a bust.
I check the markets in Q and find nothing in the meat cases suitable to purchase for the crew. Bridget and Spike are great dogs but they are not getting pork roasts and t-bone steaks from me.
Nature makes lovely arrangements in color and form. That’s a palo verde growing among saguaro. An ocotillo stands at the right. Green creosote bushes and silver grey-green bursage grow in abundance across the desert.
I have to do something!
We’re down to the last 16-ounce tube of ground turkey. Well, I could haul butt up to Parker, about an hour’s worth of flat, straight driving through uninspiring desert north from Quartzsite. Or I could take the interstate to Blythe, California, which is about a half-hour west of Quartzsite.
Bridget and Spike on their way to Palm Canyon Road. This photo shows the true difference in their coats.
Off we go to California for the crew’s groceries.
My loss of sanity is confirmed as I merge with the interstate traffic and zoom westward to buy groceries for the crew. The Albertson’s in Blythe has ground turkey, chicken, and relatively cheap cuts of pork chops. Sheesh. Those two eat better than I do.
These days Bridget is the leader. I’m hoping Spike’s arthritic shoulders will show improvement soon.
I read other blogs, which may be a mistake.
It’s hard not to get competitive. I see one blogger touring a fabulous place, then another blogger camped with a spectacular view, and, oh, the photos are eye-popping and the posts are so dang interesting.
A lone saguaro surrounded by ocotillo
Well, I suppose I could pack up, hitch up, and seek adventure. I could find an amazing boondock no one has ever posted about before, one that would wow my readers.
I consider that for about two minutes.
That kind of thinking is not good. The crew and I are enjoying our camp along Palm Canyon Road in the Kofa National Wildlife Refuge.
Bridget’s always the one who lets us know it’s time to rest in the shade.
The weather is sublime — hot in the mid-afternoon sun, but sublimely cool in the shade. A soft breeze wafts over my lounger and no bothersome humidity, of course.
This warm spell may bring out some snakes, although we haven’t come across any. They tend to be in rockier places than this. A little salamander appeared and crawled under the outdoor mat.
It’s quiet here.
This morning I step outside and listen. I hear absolutely nothing for a few moments. Then a bird song, and, way over on Highway 95, the faint sound of a truck. That’s it.
Spike investigates. Bridget’s thinking of the water dish at home.
I love quiet.
Later today a convoy of fifteen little vehicles with flags a-flyin’ roll up the road to the canyon in a plume of dust. A few lone vehicles go by from time to time. None of that disturbs us because we’re far from the road.
The tall saguaro makes my antenna pole look puny.
Since we’re happy here, we’ll stay.
I vowed that once I retired I’d live my life MY way. I will not let outside influences determine how I spend each day. I’ll remain true to myself.
To take off for the purpose of fresh blog material is letting the blog rule my life. Life before blog, not blog before life. It would be easy for me to lose sight of that.
Buds on a beavertail cactus. There are several of these scattered around our camp.
Spike and I are turning into crusty ol’ desert creatures.
See the rough ground around that beavertail cactus? That’s what my skin is beginning to look like. I scrub exposed skin with hot water and soak my feet in a basin of hot water. I trowel on body lotion every day. Bridget, on the other hand, seems to do okay in this dry environment.
I think this is a barrel cactus growing between two bursage bushes.
Spike’s back paws, however, have developed very dry pads about to crack.
Several months ago I bought some “Vermont’s Original Bag Balm.” Amazingly, Spike lets me massage it into his pads. The bag balm makes the Best Little Trailer smell like my grandpa’s dairy barn way back when . . . .
The eastern sky and Signal Mountain are slightly tinged with pink from the sunset.
The sunsets the past two nights have been gorgeous.
I like to take my chair around to the back side of the BLT to read during the last hour of daylight. That way I’m sure not to miss the sunset.
This photo only shows about half the color splashed across the sky.
If you’ve never seen an Arizona sunset in person, I can understand you thinking I enhanced these photos. Scouts honor, this is the real deal. Astonishing!
Swirls from a giant paintbrush . . .
rvsue
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