Midwest Gypsy

“If there is magic on this planet, it is contained in water.” – Loren Eiseley, American philosopher, educator, anthropologist, ecologist.

July 11, 2022. Monday.

The oppressive days of 100+ degrees and extremely high humidity have finally given way for the time being to the more bearable 90s, and all in all, life is good here in the Ozarks. I haven’t seen anymore copperheads on my kayak, so that’s a plus.

I love kayaking, and it’s a blessing to be able to kayak whenever the mood strikes, which is around 5:30 a.m. these days. For weeks I’ve had a routine that I liked—an hour-long paddle, mainly along the shore—but which was becoming boring. So, on Saturday, I decided to go beyond my comfort zone and paddle over to the rocky islands directly across from the resort, not quite two hundred yards, with a maximum lake depth of 60 feet in between. Not “far” in the sense of distance, but if I got stuck over there somehow, I would be SOL…unless I swam back.

The water is magical in that it teems with life. Great blue heron are a very common sight here, but they are so intriguing to watch, I could never tire of seeing them. I see at least three or four individually every time I go out, stealthily stalking the water’s edge or patiently perched on the tip of a submerged branch, barely reaching above the water’s surface. But on Saturday it was as though herons were everywhere, on the shore and flying across the sky, often in pairs, which was thrilling enough, but at one point I saw three standing together!

All in all, I probably saw at least twenty great blue herons Saturday morning. I was a very happy camper and could have been satisfied with what I’d already seen, but I kept paddling. I’m glad I did, because the most unexpected discovery was yet to be made.

Once day breaks, the sun rises fast and soon the shade of craggy, limestone bluffs became very inviting. I paddled alongside them, just relishing the peace and quiet, when my eyes spotted something I initially thought was a color variation in the limestone. But as I got nearer, I saw they were the legs of an animal, and a good-sized one at that. And soon he came into view.

A mountain goat was the last thing I expected to see here on Table Rock Lake, and I think it’s funny that I’ve experienced the WILD at a resort, of all places. But as I think back to other times I’ve gone beyond my comfort zone—like living on a boat, or taking scuba diving lessons (as a non-swimmer) , or learning to drive an 18-wheeler and later, our motorhome—the outcomes were far more rewarding than I could have ever imagined. If I don’t take chances, I might miss out on something, and I don’t want to do that!

Until next time, take care and keep smiling! Much love and long, tight hugs…Maria

I am surprised you didn’t whack your head on an overhanging branch back there. I have never seen anyone leap straight up off the ground the way you did when you saw that snake! It would make a good move for our next dance. Do you think you could teach the others? The snake jump? – Jennifer Frick-Ruppert, ‘Spirit Quest (The Legend of Skyco #1)’

July 6th, 2022. Wednesday.

Just when it was beginning to look like nothing exciting ever happens here, I got the fright of my life this morning. The day had begun like most: Very early. O’dark:30. I love the peace and quiet then, and while I waited for the coffee to brew, I opened my book of devotionals and prayed. This has been my routine for more than four decades: Getting up early and connecting with God. By the time I’m finished, the nighttime dark is beginning to give way to a new day, and sunrise is fast approaching.

I’ve been kayaking most days for a couple of months now, and because of the unusually hot temperatures we’ve had, I’m getting out earlier and earlier in the day. Normally I’m loading the kayak in the golf cart around 6 a.m., but this morning I was running early and ready to go at 5:30. With today’s high predicted to be 102 degrees, I considered the earlier-than-usual time a blessing. Besides, Dave’s not at home (he drove Maeby back home to Kentucky yesterday) and Biscuit and Victor were still fast asleep in our bed.

My kayak is a sit-in, inflatable kayak. One of the reasons I bought it three years ago was that it weighed just 20 pounds or so and I could manage it by myself. When it’s not on the water, it’s stored upside down on the concrete pad on the port side of the motorhome, where it’s out of the sun. To transport it, I prop it on its side and then hoist it up on my shoulder for balance while I walk it over to the golf cart about 25 feet away. Once there, I wedge the kayak, stern first, in the golf cart and bungee each side in. Lastly, I grab the orange bowline and secure that to the golf cart. It was while I was in the midst of grabbing hold of the bowline that I glimpsed something from the corner of my eye. It’s coiled up frame told me exactly what it was.

SNAKE!!!

I was instantaneously overwhelmed with fear, and I dropped the bowline and jumped back and away from the kayak, now hanging off the golf cart, bow down. I didn’t scream, but I was freaking out. My heart was pounding and I couldn’t stop thinking about how close my face had been to the snake, which was now obviously very much awake since having its sleep rudely interrupted. Dave wasn’t due to come until later on today, so I just stood back and watched the snake slither on the kayak. Thinking back, I may have been in shock. It was just 5:30 and I didn’t notice any neighbors up and about. I didn’t know what to do.

Just then, lights from a golf cart peeked over the top of the hill, and it slowly descended down the street, eventually making its way to our lot. It was Jerry, the security guy, doing rounds. I thanked God out loud for his impeccable sense of timing as I waved down Jerry. He probably thought I was just an early bird wanting to say “Good morning,” but when he saw the snake, he knew things were about to get interesting, especially when I told him Dave was in Kentucky.

Shining his flashlight straight into the snake’s eyes, he identified it as a copperhead, and I nearly fainted. By now the snake was inching closer and closer to the cockpit, someplace I did not want it to go. God only knows how we’d get it out then! Jerry rummaged past the extra light bulbs and what not that laid on top of his utility box and dug down until he found an aluminum bat, which he then used to prod the snake out of the kayak and onto the concrete driveway. From then it was game on, and Jerry’s game at that. He eventually bludgeoned the snake, and when it stopped convulsing, it measured 27.5 inches.

When all was said and done, it wasn’t even 6 o’clock. There was no way I was going kayaking just yet. I was still somewhat shaken from the prospect of what could have been and besides, I had to unravel the garden hose and hose down the driveway before the heat of the sun baked what bloody remains were left. As for the snake itself, I scooped it up and have it saved for Dave to see when he gets home.

I doubt I’ll ever forget this incident as long as I live. In retrospect, I regret the snake was brutally killed, but seriously, what’s one supposed to do with venomous snakes found in an RV resort filled with summertime vacationers? I welcome reasonable suggestions. (In other words, don’t suggest catching it and driving it to some remote place to release.) I would hope I don’t freak out like I did this morning, but I make no promises.

Sometimes I forget that we’re still living out in nature, in spite of occasional email notices and notices in the newsletter to watch out for snakes. I’m sure I’ll remember that from now on. Also, I’ll start scanning both the outside and the inside of the kayak with a flashlight before carrying it anywhere. Fear can be a terrific incentive!

With that, I’ll close for now. That enough for one day! Have a fun, healthy and safe rest of the summer making lots of memories❣️Until next time, much love and long, tight hugs—Maria

“Grandchildren are the dots that connect the lines from generation to generation.” – Lois Wyse

June 30, 2022.

It’s 6 a.m. and I’m sitting at the dinette, watching the sun rise over Table Rock Lake. Our teenage granddaughter, Maeby, is sound asleep on the pull-out loveseat, snuggled deep inside a sleeping bag. She doesn’t seem to mind “living differently,” as one must do when one is in an RV. She’s known about RVs and camping ever since she was a baby, so the lack of space and virtually no privacy doesn’t seem to bother her. I’ve been with her a week now, and it’s like having Kate all over again.

Last Wednesday I drove to Hopkinsville (Kentucky) to be with Maeby while Kate and Bobby were at a travel ball tournament in Atlanta. Maeby, 14, is trying out for the high school volleyball team, and Kate needed me to take her to and from practice while she was away. Frankly, I was taken aback when I learned Maeby was trying out; I didn’t see her as athletically inclined, though I know she and Kate have been working out together for quite a while. She’s such a stellar artist that I forget she’s quite multi-faceted. Much like her mother.

On Sunday we drove back to our place in Arkansas, a little more than 300 miles away, and I’d say she’s having a pretty good time. She should. She’s at the lake. And as the saying goes, if you’re lucky enough to be at the lake, you’re lucky enough. She’s had a ball kayaking, taking long walks, driving the golf cart around and, in general, just being the center of attention. We’re blessed to be able to have this time with her, as well as help Kate out.

As you can imagine, we’ve had some interesting conversations over the past few days and, while I have seen a bit of sullen, teenage angst pop up a time or two, she’s been a sheer joy to have around. On some topics we’re on the same page, and on others we’re not. God’s an interesting one. And like most kids, she’s on her phone a lot, but not playing video games, thank God. Mimi (that’s me) has an aversion to that. She watches a lot of “how to” videos, mostly about drawing, volleyball, cooking and baking.

Food is an important thing in our family; indeed, all life is centered around it. Especially with company, conversations regarding the next meal often take place at the one previous. Food is love, and in that regard, Maeby has been indoctrinated. She loves to cook and is willing and excited to try new ways of doing it. Papa loves the Blackstone grill that came with this lot, so he’s teaching her how to use it. It’s a match made in heaven.

I’m so grateful that we’re able to have this time with our granddaughter, and what a time this is. Life is getting crazier by the day, and things like inflation, exorbitant gas prices, and bare shelves make tomorrow so uncertain. The Summer of ‘22 is a daily lesson in just being in the Now, staying in Today, and just being grateful.

When I got up this morning, the last thing I wanted to do was write, but I’m glad I did. Now we’re off to zip line 😳 That was Papa’s idea. Until next time, take care and have a fun and safe weekend this holiday weekend. Much love and long, warm hugs.♥️Maria

Time and time again we reconnect. It’s as though the universe nudges us to give it one more chance. –Nikki Rowe, author

May 17th, 2022. Oak Grove, Arkansas

Hello again, All.😃 I write this with the hope that you are doing well. This post comes with a warning: 13-year-old humor ahead. 🙃

This past Saturday was my 50th high school reunion in St. Louis, and I’m so glad I went! Last month I shared that I was on the fence about going, even though I had Zoom’d in all but one planning meeting. But it wasn’t until I offered to be the photographer that my going was definite. I was going to say that I didn’t know what possessed me to volunteer, but in fact, I do. It was the Spirit that moved me.

Following inner nudges is not foreign to me; I may be impulsive, but being like that has given me a lifetime of eclectic experiences—not to mention stories to tell. The planning committee hadn’t even thought of designating somebody to do that, so my offer was readily accepted. Of course, I immediately began to have doubts about my ability to take good photographs, but even that turned into a blessing!! The lessons for an iPhone photography class I’d taken three years ago were still on my phone, but UPDATED, which is great because I have a newer phone. For two weeks I reviewed lessons, and by the time Saturday arrived, I was ready.

As it turned out, it was the best thing I could’ve done. I actually think it ensured my good time because I had to move around and be sociable. Not that I’d be a wallflower otherwise; but I’m not on Facebook and I’ve lived away from St. Louis for 42 years, so I’m not as connected as the others. But by being the photographer, I spoke to just about everyone there and even chatted at length with some old friends.

At one point I walked towards the bar to get something to drink, and as I approached, I stopped dead in my tracks: One of the bartenders was an old family friend—more than 50+ years ago, her cousin married my cousin, but Jan and I haven’t seen each other in decades.

What an unexpected blessing it was to see her after all this time, as well as the other person tapped to tend bar, one of my very favorite people from the class that graduated the year after us. Seeing these two old friends made me even more grateful I made the trip back to St. Louis. I had a much better time than I ever expected. It was great.

As good as the reunion was, it was not the highlight of my weekend. There were several actually, but I won’t bore you with the details except for one.

Visiting Uranus for the first time.

The trip from Oak Grove to St. Louis is a little more than 200 miles via I-44. I love road trips, especially when there’s time to stop along the way and explore. On the way to St. Louis, I stopped in Uranus, a place I’ve always wanted to see. The billboards along the highway were intriguing, and I wondered what I’d find there.

This pun-filled, light-hearted tourist attraction is the brainchild of self-proclaimed mayor Louie Keen, who used to own a strip club located on the property where Uranus is now. He designed a whole new, family-friendly business around a quirky name, and began his marketing campaign. Just adding “in Uranus” or “from Uranus” to any sentence makes whatever said humorous. Immature to be sure, but it’s all done in fun. 🥸

If you ever go to Uranus, be sure to grab a copy of the local newspaper, the Uranus Examiner. With such features such as “Finding Love in Uranus,” “Check Out Some Things Happening in and Around Uranus,” and “You’ll Never Know What You’ll See in Uranus,” one is bound to get a good idea of what goes on in Uranus: Lots of fun and laughs.

Not surprisingly, I met a most interesting and quite unusual person in Uranus: Kat, the sword swallower and manager of the Uranus Sideshow. So much local knowledge! I was mesmerized as she expounded upon other roadside attractions along the interstate she thought I might like: (Stonehenge at Missouri U.-Rolla, the 2-story tall Rocking Chair in Cuba, MO, the Route 66 State Park, just outside St. Louis.) But it wasn’t that that captivated me; it was her body. It (as much as I could see, anyway) was completely tattooed in such pattern that she looked like a leopard! 😳 Odd though it was, the pattern was uniform and tasteful—not a mishmash of random designs that looked like they were done in a prison.

Talking with Kat was a very good reminder to not judge people based on appearances. Despite her very unusual physical experience, our brief conversation about roadside attractions was delightful. That one commonality connected us, two complete strangers. I’ll probably never see her again, but I’ll certainly never forget her.

Our travels are now paused for the summer. The price of diesel and a general, uneasy feeling of uncertainty surrounding the mid-term elections made the decision to hunker down an easy one. I’m sure we won’t be bored, not with all there is to do at the lake and all the shows in Branson (and 2-for-1 tickets are the way to go!).

Until next time, take care and please stay in touch. Peace, Love, and great big hugs☮️❤️🤗Maria

Animals have come to mean so much in our lives. We live in a fragmented and disconnected culture. Politics are ugly, religion is struggling, technology is stressful, and the economy is unfortunate. What’s one thing that we have in our lives that we can depend on? A dog or a cat loving us unconditionally, every day, very faithfully. – Jon Katz, American journalist

Friday, March 25, 2022

Since the last post elicited responses from several friends wishing better days for Biscuit here and in text messages and phone calls, I thought I’d write a quick update. But before I do, thank you so much for your concern and kind words. That meant very much to me. 😘

Thanks to our friend Jaan’s suggestion, we began giving Biscuit Immodium on what was Day 5 of her diarrhea dilemma. The pet anti-poopy medicine we’d begun giving her two days earlier wasn’t doing the job, in our opinion, and on this particular day, we had to check out of the Airbnb/trailer we’d rented for a week while Felix was being worked on.

Thank goodness the work on Felix was completed and we were able to move back aboard the RV that afternoon (Monday.) Just having had one dose of Immodium, the dilemma still existed. But now it was compounded by the challenge of getting a sick pup from our rig to the designated doggie area. No longer did we have the luxury of a grassy area just steps outside the door like we did when we were in the trailer, nor the hose used so often for clean-up. Now we had to traverse at least half a dozen Tiffen motorhomes (averaging at least $300,000-400,000, conservatively speaking) as discreetly as possible, at least a couple of them with their owners aboard.

Oh, and as if that in itself wasn’t enough, around 6 p.m., the tornado sirens sounded.

In a situation like that—in an RV, with no tornado shelter available—all one can do is pray. The sky was the most ominous, sickly shade of yellow. Soon the rain pounded our new roof and the wind made Felix sway a time or two, but eventually it passed. Thank goodness the storm went farther north, and all we had to contend with was very windy and cold conditions for the next 36 hours. It still wasn’t easy getting Biscuit to the doggie area, but I slept on the recliner and we got out the door as fast as we could every time she wanted to go outside, which was several times both nights we stayed in Lewisville.

By Wednesday, both the weather and Biscuit’s situation improved enough that we felt comfortable making our way to our permanent spot in Arkansas. I felt badly for Biscuit, who was laying on the couch, completely worn out, but we couldn’t stay at the RV-dealership indefinitely. We went as far as McAlester, OK, and we finally arrived at our destination yesterday around 3 p.m.

Today is Day 9, and Biscuit is much, much better. She is not yet 100%, but she’s finally drinking water and eating a little (dehydrated chicken treats we got at the pet store the other day.) We will be here in Arkansas until we go to Kentucky early next month, so this will be a good opportunity to keep a low profile for a while.

Dave and I sometimes muse that our lives revolve around the pups, and because they’re the age they are (16 and 14), they do. But it is what it is. There will always be some situations not under our control, but oftentimes those are the very ones I end up writing about. Like this!! We just do the best we can and remember to be aware of all the blessings hidden here and there along the way. There is always something to be grateful for.

As always, I will keep in touch, and I hope you do the same. Take care, and stay well. Until next time, Peace, Love, and Great Big Hugs! ♥️ Maria