goin' to the country store for breakfast

Before anyone awoke, I left early to get some more smokes and treat myself to breakfast. Outside, the truck was covered with ice, the road slippery with "black ice" (which I'd never seen before). So with only two wheel drive and sliding every now and then, I had to stop and check the conditions about a half mile down.

At the store, the unusual weather was the topic of conversation. I ordered my eggs and ham and picked up the local paper while I waited. There it was, the "Pet Issue" with 13 pages of photos of pets. Dogs, cats, lizards, horses and chickens - lamas and squirrels, while I sat wondering how, from my current situation, how can one afford these animals.

Page 3, of the Point Reyes Light, always has the "Sheriff's Calls" - and in rural communities, there seems to be plenty. Over a weekly period, it amounts to 40 some reports. One in particular;

Saturday, December 26th
POINT REYES STATION
"At 9:10 am someone said a woman had handed him (or her) the number for the Sheriff's Office and asked that the caller get her a ride. Deputies told the woman she could leave town on the stagecoach, the same way she rode in".

all of us gettin' worn out

What I thought was goin' to be Knuckle's holiday, Holidays, has turned out not to be so.

Six repetitive days now, Knuckle's and I have spent our time driving 20 miles, waiting, napping - shuttled in and out of exam rooms, poked, prodded, belly-shaved, X-Ray'd and Ultrasounded, IV'd with fluids, with cultures cultured and numerous "panels" sent out to labs. In return, we've been hugged, petted and medicated - and almost drained of all available funds.  We've met every sweetheart staff and caring employee - all of the receptionists, nurses and techs, the 'on-duty' veterinarians, internists and radiologists. With his temperature continuously hovering around 105 degrees - he's not well. And, he's not feeling it.

On today's checkout, an incoming dog's owner glanced over at Knuckles silently shivering, and mentioned, "He looks like a Ridgeback, without the ridge".  And, all I could was, "That's why we're here, to get his Ridge back.

missing my hometown

Sitting yesterday, and waiting patiently in Marin County's Animal Hospital, I had plenty of time to read all the provided periodicals. I went through the "local" print, all the way to the national's, and finally saw this featured in last week's Time Magazine - a political rally in Sarasota.

For unknown reasons, beyond a Sarasota 'inside' connection, Donald Trump's, Florida presidential campaign office is located in my hometown.

Sad, but I still love the circus.

worried and saddened

Spent the last two consecutive nights in the animal ER with my road buddy.

For the past week, Knuckles has been lethargic, not eating and shivering. Thought it might be just from the cold, wet weather. Well, they found a very a high fever, but his blood work showed no sign of infection (unremarkable) and / or any possible tick related issues. For two nights now, Knuckles has been leaving the hospital after having IV's, a liter of fluid. Their concern is with his organs. Tomorrow morning an Internist is scheduled and will perform ultrasounds, looking for possible tumors.

Returning home last night, around 2:00 am returning back to our cabin, a large bunny with big ears panicked across the dark road in front of us, darted back, and ended up under my front wheel. Got home and lifted Knuckles out of the truck, back to his bed where he now spends the majority of his day.

Tomorrow we should have a better prognosis

post script;  Sunday - the good news, the ultrasounds came back negative for tumors or abnormalities. They believe it is viral. If he doesn't improve in the next day or two, back for chest and heart X-rays. I still have to lift him in and out of the truck, but he's lost so much weight, that it's manageable. It's just hard to watch him shivering, shaking, and not eating, drooling.  Now, he's my sick buddy.

Merry Christmas from Target

ferrying into the city on a chilly, wet night

for Bella's 11th birthday dinner, at her favorite Thai restaurant.

the "christmas" spawn

Or, as a local biologist referred to it as.

The wild, endangered Coho salmon’s furthest most southern spawning occurs here locally, right down the road - and, right up the creek. I met a young fishery biologist, Catie Clune, yesterday, who walked me through the difficult and arduous task these fish take annually. Through their 23 mile migration, from the Pacific in late October and early November, to the upper reaches of nearby, Lagunitas Creek - where they finally lay their eggs and die - and all, at this same predictive time, every Christmas.


 Early morning, over Lagunitas (Papermill) Creek.

Natural log jams, creating pools and diverging waters, necessary for spawning salmon.

A large female (about 24 inches) creates an ideal nesting area referred to as her "redd".  Her (white) tail fin shows the wear-and-tear from stirring up the loose gravel bottom, prior to laying her eggs.

Another female behind her nesting area, just prior to laying her eggs. Generally, an oval-to-round depression, created by days of periodic laying on her side and the beating of her tail along the bottom.

 

where we are staying, and will be for another 5 weeks

Woodacre, CA.  Across the bay from San Fran, in west Marin County.

Sandy loves the holidays, and instead of wanting the traditional strung lights, this year she chose the "star shower", the lazer variety.

Definitely bizarre, and I'm not sure how Knuckles is takin' it.

four hours after birth, he's stretched out and relaxed

His name - "Nico"

Nicolo James McCourtney Porceddu - the new son of Silvana Porceddu and Wilson McCourtney.

morning labor

Made coffee twice this morning. Sandy bought me a French Press - one that said for three cups, but with that overly inflated statement, actually only makes one. The process for the second cup - reheating the kettle, rinsing out the old grinds and the additional fussing around, became the enjoyable part of a beginning new day - including an attempt to finish writing holiday cards with only one eye focused, after a prescription lens had fallen out of my reading glasses and onto the floor.

Build another fire - and about ten holiday cards to finish and post down at the bottom of the road. My true thoughts though, are for our daughter-in-law, Silvana, who started her child bearing labor last night, and was concerned without a follow-up word this morning. So, my next move is going into town and looking for a tiny screw, or a hopeful, helpful eye wear shop.

Making coffee twice this morning, seemed just about perfect.

old-fashioned

Bella and Lola got to choose their own tree - and cut it at Larsen's Tree Farm in the hills of Petaluma.

the missing piece

After 10 days on the road, Knuckles and I arrived at our destination, finding my wife hovering over a large jigsaw puzzle, and nearly completed. Sandy had flown in 5 days earlier, where she was now, holed up in a remote cabin, waiting for the dog and I.

Yesterday, there was only one piece missing, but she seemed satisfied. Early this morning, I found that last piece under the table, blending in on top of a busy floral rug. I will leave the piece on the table top nearby, and mention that I couldn't get it to fit.  It should only take her a few seconds.

movin' on

We left Arizona by the back roads, crossing into California, in part along old Route 66 through the Mojave Desert. Then we headed north, up 395, hoping to cross over the Sierra Nevada's somewhere near Yosemite, but all the passes were closed due to heavy snow.

We passed many an interesting and odd, quirky landscape along the eastern Sierra Nevada's.  I need to go back, stop, and on that return route, ask a lot of questions.

Juniper Well Ranch, Skull Valley, Arizona

Looking down onto the valley from the foothills above - a thousand feet below, Juniper Well Ranch.
James (on the left) - wanderer, fire-performer, guide, cook and part time ranch hand.  (click on shots)

Knuckles and I, sniffing out the last of the long-lost gold nuggets

Outside our cabin where Knuckles, nightly hid out from those wily coyotes

the camp site where we were to stay, but no heat in the winter, just a small campfire

the main lodge - the Manzanita

Rex - an Arabian Bay gelding who was boarding. The friendliest and sweetest of the horse bunch, who took a real liking to Knuckles.

the ranch's "goin' into town" Jeep

My son Matt, seated in his needed, "time out" chair

Our longest time friend, ranch owner Margey Shaw.  A good timin', two steppin' cowgirl with her right-hand, boss man, Vincente, the 'bestest' guy and long time caretaker of the JWR ranch.

visiting with an old friend

Mr. Eric Kroll - photographer, editor, collector and the known, "King of Fetish".

Called Eric a month ago, told him I was heading out west with the dog. Would love to stop in Tucson, spend a few nights. He was more than animated, in fact, called me when I got on the road, sometimes, three or four times a day. Kept telling me that he would clear a path to the bathroom just for us, and another path, for a day-bed he was hurriedly trying to set up. Eric's only concern - the dog's tail knocking over the masses of floor-filled boxes of archived photos and negatives.

the 'rare guest' bathroom

the kitchen's outdoor, indoor view
 

the three of us eating out. Downtown, late at night, at Tucson's historic Congress Hotel
 

Good times - great laughs. And, an old man who can still pull-off cooking that brunch in Arizona's, Sonoran Desert.

surrounded by border patrol outside Van Horn, Texas

Drawing close to the Rio Grande, we were stopped by the border patrol, where we were directed through a mandatory checkpoint. Looking through our truck, with just Knuckles and I, we were finally cleared by the agents. We hadn't seen one illegal, or much of anything else, all after riding nearly ten hours across Texas's dry, southern plain.


After - pulled over for a cigarette, a stretch - and the last of Knuckle's bottled water.

Returned back into town late, looking to stay the night, but the camping area looked rough - and the Oasis's, lone 'camping tepee', just seemed to cold when the ambient temperature started to drop below 40 degrees.

heading westward

Out on the road, our second day out, Knuckles found a newly planted rice paddy, just shy of the Texas border.

Then later, waiting patiently while he was next in line to use the restroom.

shift change

Bartender Steve, at the Red Barn Bar & Package, was cancelling out the register at the end of his shift, when he introduced me to "Sweets" - their happy and new fun lovin' bartender. "Sweets", who graduated from college with a degree in "mass communications", will fit in well.  Especially when you need to hang your head low - and just unload.  Steve reassured me, I was now in "good hands".

 

a reason to love Florida

'Yard boats' a plenty.

the present past

Stopped by Hap's Cycle today to order some rear spokes for my Bonneville. The family business has been in operation since the 50's, and has been our local dealership, servicing Honda, BMW and Triumph motorcycles for over 60 years.

Their service department appears to have had very few upgrades - just continuing to collect more and more dust.

damn hospital

For over twenty some years, our family have enjoyed the view and the serenity of a secluded, and somewhat private lagoon. A sanctuary - as if we were down deep, in those Ten Thousand Islands of southern Florida.

Last year, the large peninsular property across the water, went on the market. A young family bought it as their "second home", and early this past summer, the building commenced. The glass front construction faces out, away from us over Robert's Bay, while the backside, slowly becomes visible. Their builder, Bruce Saba, told me, "another 7 months till final completion".

Well it's looks to be - the size and feel of a damn hospital.