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May Update

After battling a failed respiratory system for four months in the hospital, my 23-year-old son, Justin, died last night.  Last week, he was driving the hospital bean-counters and back-office people crazy by having way too much fun in the hospital.  He was playing video games, watching sports and crime shows on tv, and ordering Uber Eats.  Then Saturday afternoon, he went code blue with rapid changes in oxygen level, heart rate and blood pressure.   With modern medicine, drugs and technology, hospital staff stabilized his numbers, but Justin became quite uncomfortable and agitated.  His last words were, "Will it ever end?"   Allie flew home on Sunday night, and her presence in the hospital room on Monday brought a final, brief smile to Justin's lips.  He passed later that night.   I'm proud of my son for his lifetime willingness to fight for a life that was in many ways fuller than most able-bodied people.  In return, he made our lives richer and fuller.   After a time

Gone and Back Again


 

I stayed two days at a nondescript rv park in Henderson Nevada, which is just south of Las Vegas on the Boulder Highway. My site was supposed to be empty and ready for me, but it wasn’t. It was noon when I arrived, and I’m pretty sure the occupants weren’t awake yet. By 1 pm, water and electric was unhooked, and they were rolling away without apology.

I used this time to do laundry, shower several times,, resupply, and, of course, roast coffee. There was nothing very remarkable about the rv park, so I won’t name it. Most of the residents were year round and long-term. Lots of the Rv’s were older and in need of repair, even though the park supposedly had a ten-year rule in order to stay there. By that, if your rv was older than ten years from the date of manufacturer, keep looking. I fibbed about the date on my rv (since Scamp hasn’t changed it’s design since about 1978, mine looks as new as the ones coming from the factory now), but I didn’t feel too bad after seeing the motley assortment of ancient trailers that somehow found their way into their spots. Maybe they were grandfathered?

Anyway, I am back to Valley of Fire. I arrived late morning, which seems like a good time because there were only a few rigs present when I arrived. By evening it was nearly full.  The Brew Hut didn’t move far—merely across the gravel road where solar is more ample, and the views more generous behind the campsite.

The days are getting shorter. I’m sleeping in until nearly 7 a.m., and it’s pretty much dark by 7 p.m. Since Julia arrives on Sunday, I’ve been brushing up on my pancake operations in the morning. It makes for a nice sweet treat to start the day with my fresh roasted Papua New Guinea coffee.

T-mobile doesn’t live here in the campground, but I’ve found a few places where one or two bars of signal can be had, so I’ve been able to pick up my daily local newspaper to read with breakfast. Elvis and I usually have our 12k-15k steps by noon. During the afternoon, I’ve been reading John Muir’s “My First Summer in the Sierra.” I was worried it might not be accessible, but he’s an excellent writer and communicator, probably due to his Wisconsin roots.

I’ve been scavenging firewood from campsites that people have departed from—with some success. I hope to have a few fires this week to lengthen the short days. I also found the Overton library (Moappa Valley Public Library), and it’s free wifi connection, so I downloaded some more Netflix to watch during the evenings. I’m pretty settled into my routine, but I’m sure that Julia will shake me out of that shortly.



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