MilestonesandMemories13

Chapter 13

MILESTONES AND MEMORIES

That's Entertainment

This title came as the result of watching Lawrence Welk's Milestones and Memories

special program. Over a hundred performers, from fifty-years of shows, appeared together for the

first time ever: Bobby, a former Mouseketeer, danced a number with all three of his partners:

Barbara, Cicely and Elaine, in sequence. What a thrill!

Four of the former Champagne Ladies, wearing regal satin gowns, sat on thrones, each

holding a bouquet of American Beauty red roses, while Guy Ralston sang a tribute to them. And

then Norma Zimmer, the last Champagne Lady, not on a throne, stood by them and sang. What a

moment!

Of course, all the performers are a lot older, but so are we, the viewers. Yet, they all

looked great, even with their wrinkles and extra weight, and none had lost their incredible talent.

For instance the pianists, Big Tiny Little and Joanne Castle, each played a number and then, after

forty-years, they played a duet that nearly rocked the building.

And several jazz numbers, by the entire band, were tumultuous, along with a breathtaking

version of Rhapsody in Blue. And one number featured the lady bass viol player, once petite and

demure, and now seemingly large and bold. What a transformation!

I felt sad that Guy and Ralna, once a loving duet, had been separated and gone solo many

years earlier, but they sang several duets for this show, bringing back happy memories.

The wonderful "champagne music" went on for over two hours, minus the PBS segment

soliciting funds to continue bringing these shows to us, playing and singing the melodies that I

love and giving me an evening of nostalgia.

I was happy to see Arthur Duncan looking white-haired and handsome, as he tapped

another first-rate routine, and even sang his own accompaniment in one. Van and I remembered

having seen him, along with the Lennon Sisters, at a performance in San Jose, where he proved

that he's a top entertainer in his own right.

We'd seen The Lennon Sisters another time, with Andy Williams, for a memorable

evening's entertainment. Yes, of course, they were here tonight, too, and they also perform in the

Lawrence Welk Theater in Branson, Mo.. In fact, Van and I commented that we had been on that

very stage where we were now watching them perform. The event had taken place as part of the

Acknowledgments segment during a Regional Meeting of our networking business, because we

had over ten Preferred Customers. Unfortunately, we weren't able to spend the money to attend

the show, but we did get free tickets to see Bobby Vincent's show, which features the Glenn

Miller band. Another memorable evening.

Toward the end of tonight's show, Tom Netherton, the tall blond soloist, did a tribute to

all the members who had made their transition and were no longer with us, among them, Skeets

Herbert, a fabulous sax player whom we had seen in person at the Vista Religious Science

Church, and also we attended a Christmas Concert that he and a pianist presented. He was the

white-haired gentleman with glasses that made a sax and clarinet sound like heaven.

The entire ensemble closed with their spectacular rendition of That's Entertainment,

bringing to a close an enjoyable and memorable evening that I didn't want to end. Of course, I

could make a donation to PBS and receive a VCR of the event; and I plan on doing that with the

first available money that isn't earmarked for our living and traveling expenses. But, for anyone

who can make a donation to PBS, this is certainly a worthwhile investment.

Gila River Casino

All this entertainment took place at the Gila River Casino, near Phoenix, where Van and

I had parked, after leaving Adam off at the airport. We still didn't feel good and needed the time

to rest, but I wanted the time to write my chapter, while the experience was fresh in my mind. It

took all day for me to capture the event in words, but when I'd finished, I felt good that I'd retold

the memorable experience.

The quiet and low-key environment of the casino parking lot had proven an excellent

opportunity for my Ivory Tower marathon, and the warm weather had nurtured our bodies. But,

the second day, before leaving, we decided to walk over to the adobe New Mexico style building

and partake of their Sunday Brunch. Since we don't gamble, we like to repay the casino's free

hospitality by having a meal, preferably a buffet, while using their parking facilities.

The walk across the parking lot, in the warm Arizona sun felt good, but the truth is

that we hadn't had the energy, until today, as we were still recuperating from the virus that had

attacked our bodies. Now, we could appreciate the architecture and landscaping, with its

waterfall at the front entrance, and the cactus and other plants. Having stopped at many casinos,

we were impressed with this one; and once inside we were amazed that the place was packed

with a diversified group, including a large number of seniors, but all ages seemed to be enjoying

this gambling activity.

Despite our appreciation of their parking lots, it's sad to know that a certain percentage

go beyond a Sunday activity and become addicted to the lure of so-called easy money. In fact, a

sign by the restaurant warned that one could lose their family, home, job over an abuse of

gambling; and it offered a number to call for help in dealing with gambling addiction. Well, I

guess that's one way to compensate for the devastation their business can create.

Neither of us had much appetite, nor could we really taste the food, but for $3.95 each, it

was a worthy meal and we recommend this place for RVers, or anyone into a good Sunday

Brunch (before noon); at 12:30 the dinner buffet rate starts for $8.00. I'm sure it would be worth

the price, too.

New Life in the Desert

So far, we weren't making much progress on our trip to Texas; this day didn't get us

much further down the road. However, after our fuel stop at Flying J, we made it back to Tucson,

passing more displays of purplish lupine and now an addition of orange flowers that formed a

blanket over the desert, in some places. The desert was coming alive! And I realized that my

earlier comment about the lack of green in the desert was inaccurate, because the heavy rains

had instilled new life and brought out the greenery in shrubs and bushes, and of course, the cacti.

Van and I were feeling some new life, too, but the best boost came from the fresh carrot

juice we got at Trader Joe's, while stocking up on natural remedies and lozenges.

I'd been reclining, while traveling, and the inactivity felt good, so I asked Van to do a

rare task, since he was finally recovering from his bug, having gotten sick before I did. I asked

him to put together some peas, rice, chicken and chicken broth for our dinner, which he did.

Along with the carrot juice and chicken-rice soup, we'd been taking our usual brew of

Isotonix supplements that our company sells, which offset the usual intense onset of this virus.

For me, it was my sinus and throat that caused coughing and discomfort, so I used Ricoli's

menthol-eucalyptus lozenges and also Trader Joe's Zinc Propolis lozenges. In addition, I'd added

Golden Seal-Echinacea drops, which had given the first improvement to my condition. I also use

the capsules, but I was out, so bought the drops at GNC at The Mall. And, of course, there are

the Traditional Teas: Throat Coat and Gypsy Cold Care. I also bought a new one by Good Earth

Medicines: Tea for Colds, a cough suppressant, which should get me through the final stages, as

the sinus and congestion breaks up. The blessing of all these remedies is that they are compatible

with each other, and there are no side-effects.

I know everyone has their own cold remedies, but I thought I'd add mine, here, as part of

my tips for inner and outer healing.

With all this activity, we planned to stop at Wal-Mart, on Speedway, but discovered a big

sign with red letters: No Overnight Parking. This usually indicates that they've had trouble there,

not necessarily from the RVers, but possibly it's a risky neighborhood, so they simply prevent

any incidences. We moved on to the Wal-Mart near I-19 and Valencia, where we'd stayed the

night before we picked up Adam. This place welcomes RVers; at least a dozen were already in

place.

Completions and Frustration

The drive from Tucson to Benson allowed me to complete my efforts to photograph the

golden orange blanket of flowers in one area. And our return to Quarter Horse RV Park was

certainly different that we had expected, considering that we would have moved to Space 62 and

stayed several weeks. Now, we simply stopped to collect our refund and forwarded mail. And it

felt right that we were moving on.

However, we didn't leave Benson immediately. First we did our laundry at the local

Laundromat and ate a snack at Wendy's, while we waited.

Second, we tried the library for e-mail access, but our password was denied, for some

reason. I simply couldn't understand why we were having such a challenge with this simple

procedure. Was there a block with Van or I to moving forward with this technology, or were we

simply unable to grasp it?

In any event, I didn't feel like putting in several hours for Van to figure it out, so we gave

it up and moved on. And, for some reason, I blamed Van for not moving through this obstacle,

which caused an angry outburst on my part, which depleted what little energy I had left. So, I

watched the passing desert panorama from a prone position on the sofa, as he drove us onward

through Arizona and New Mexico.

It truly was glorious scenery with miles of golden-orange carpeted desert and hillsides.

But I didn't take any more pictures, because I was reading my new magazines and resting. The

spurt of energy that I'd had at the beginning of the day was gone and my sinus's had become

congested again. I suspected that it was either the Frosty dessert at Wendy's, or this e-mail

frustration. And I knew that we weren't through with the process.

Usually we push on through the desert and stay at Flying J, just over the border of Texas.

But this time, because we were both feeling tired, I began looking at RV Parks in Deming, NM.

Several listed e-mail service, so I figured it was worth another try.

The attendant, a classic, Good Ole Guy, complete with baseball-type cap, said we'd

better hurry, because they closed in 30-minutes, at 6:30. I'd said that our staying depended on

being able to send our e-mail, but, again, an 800# was needed, and also our password, which

wasn't being accepted. So, we went next door to another RV Park, but met with the same

situation, but the reception suggested that we try the library, where they had a phone port, which

might help; at least for sending my already written e-mail messages.

By this time my frustration had peaked and the sun was setting, so we stayed at

Roadrunner RV park, anyway, because Van had suggested that we eat at K-Bob's, a western

BBQ that offered country-friend steak with a baked potato for $4.99, a dollar increase since our

stop last year. But, nevertheless worth the price.

I seldom indulge in country-fried steak, but this is the one place, as it is delicious, and the

baked potato is superb. In fact, you can get their soup and salad bar with a baked potato for

$6.99, which would be a healthy and filling meal; but I decided to go with the suggestion on a

billboard along the way that proclaimed: EAT BEEF!

The hostess told me the name would be changed to Ranch Grill, in April, so the decor

would be even more appropriate: western memorabilia and pictures, and old saddles. It's a great

stop along 1-10 and worth planning your trip to include a meal here.

The RV park is okay, too, and the rates are reasonable: under $15.00, with a Good Sam

card, for full hook-up and cable TV. However, ours barely got a fuzzy picture, but we didn't

bother to see if the other sites were any better, since we'd already struck out on the e-mail

hook-up. This would simply be another frustration of the day.

"The Divine Unfoldment of a New Me"

However, with a new day and fresh start, Van was determined to conquer this challenge.

While he unhooked and prepared to travel, I updated my chapter and sat down to meditate to see

if I could understand what part this had to do with God's Divine Plan.

I picked up my Daily Reading and laughed as I read: "My spiritual growth is the divine

unfoldment of a new me."

I'd been telling Van that I felt something was going on with his transition process, in this

particular instance, although usually we both move to a new level when he is going through a

growth period. So, I continued reading aloud: "I try never to limit myself by holding on to an

outdated view of who I am and what I can accomplish. Nor do I have to force myself in order to

grow and become more."

The reading seemed to be written for this present moment in Van's life, and I said, "I

didn't write this, but it sure tells me that we are in the middle of something big, and we are near

the breakthrough, but as it says, we can't force the process, nor stop it, but simply allow it to

unfold in its own time.

The best part came with the bible reference to Ecclesiastes 3:1, "For Everything there us

a season, and a time for every matter under heaven," which had been the theme for the chapter

about Adam's release from prison.

Van may not have been incarcerated, as was Adam, but he had been in bondage to his

own limitations that resulted from childhood issues. For instance, the perfectionism compulsion

and the need to do it right, or not do it at all, which gets triggered when he's faced with

something he doesn't know how to fix or do, such as now.

He, too, knew he was moving through something, and he commented that, after he left

the library, he said to himself, "It's not my fault and it's not up to me." In other words, he was

going through a releasing and letting go process; a surrendering of his ego's need to "take care of

it and fix it."

"Every Atom Moves to Meet it"

While riding across the desert, I read an article in my new Unity Magazine, and again

gave thanks that it had been reinstated, when I read the words of the author, Phillip White

(former editor of the magazine), "As a reader and one voice among many, you probably didn't

know you had the power to bring back Unity Magazine." He went on to say that the many letters

from readers were instrumental in its rebirth.

I'd felt devastated when the magazine ended, but I thought the action was irrevocable and

I hadn't realized that writing a letter could make a difference, so I felt bad that I hadn't taken the

time to write. However, I had offered a prayer and I'm sure that energy added to changing the

tide of events.

Phillip described such power when he wrote this metaphysical axiom: "When an

authentic and steady claim is made upon the great supply of the universe, every atom moves to

meet it." This statement, of course, supports the theory that Bob Davey talked about with the

quantum physicist, in an earlier chapter.

Van's Paradigm Shift

However, the theme of Phillip's article referred to the possibility of making a Paradigm

Shift, and that's exactly what Van was going through. Much like the abrupt shift of the plane's

landing direction at LAX, his reality changed. Or perhaps it was more like the caterpillar in the

chrysalis, when the transition evolves over time. Yet, in that moment when the final change

occurs, it is like the airplanes.

Whereas his life had been about fixing things and making sure everyone and everything

was handled, he now said, "It's not up to me. I'm letting go and letting God." And with that, a

transformed Van evolved.

Not that he no longer cared or did the usual thoughtful, kind and considerate things that

are a part of Van's wonderfulness. It's just that the compulsion was no longer in control and he

was free to make his own choices. Wow!

So, the next morning, at the Roadrunner RV Park, he decided to make another effort at

handling the e-mail. This time, the owner's wife was on duty, and she was very helpful. Between

the two of them, they tried various approaches to getting correct input for using the calling card

in order to connect the long-distance carrier with Juno. They mastered that mystery, however

they still hadn't discovered the proper timing sequence, so it still didn't work and Van left with

more knowledge and knowing that somehow the timing sequence between the carrier and Juno

must be modified, which would take more time.

In the meantime, the owner decided he wanted lunch, and his wife had to go home and

fix it. Therefore, when Van arrived home, he said, "We've made it through Stage 1." And he

explained the above process."

Although his personal Paradigm Shift had taken place, the outer manifestations were still

in progress. This meant that he would need more time at a computer, while he resolved the

timing sequence. However, we needed to get on the road.

Kinko's to the Rescue

At Anthony, Texas (near El Paso), he again tried to get through on their phone hook-up,

but once connected with Juno, it automatically disconnected before the call was completed,

which Van interpreted as the timing sequence, and he ran out of ideas for the solution. By this

time, commute traffic would be starting, and Van was beat, so we opted to stay overnight.

I had looked in the phone book for the addresses of Kinko's, and asked the clerk which

location was closest to the freeway. So, the next morning we wended our way to their facility

and, with the help of Computer Manager, Van pushed through yet another new and unfamiliar

process to make the e-mail connection. However, this location was not long-distance, so he still

hadn't solved the problem. Nevertheless, I was happy to have my e-mail sent and received, and

my website pages published on-line.

Van's New Zest for Life

In the past, Van's compulsion to find and fix problems manifested as an unconscious

need to create a problem so he could solve it, thus to feel validated for having fulfilled his

purpose. Now, he was content to let the answers come to him, knowing that it was up to God, not

him. Talk about Inner Freedom, this paradigm shift gave Van newfound energy and zest for life.

A genuine milestone had been lived through, and he was on the other side.

Joyanna's New Look

A milestone in our travels came at Fort Stockton, Texas, when we decided to leave I-10

and take 285 south to Del Rio, cutting off a lot of miles and giving us a cross-section of scenery.

Another milestone also happened in Fort Stockton: I bought deep blue clamdiggers and a pretty

print top, which in itself is an innovation, since clothes are not in our budget. But the big news is

that my efforts to avoid sweets and chocolate, mostly for health reasons, had a side-effect of my

losing weight and looking really good in my new outfit; definitely motivation to maintain the

new lifestyle.

I felt excited to think that I had lost weight and looked thinner, and I looked forward to

my new look when visiting with Linda and family. But, I feared that her good cooking might

interfere with my making it to Colorado with the thinner image, so a challenge loomed before

me and I prayed for the good judgment to say "No," when possible; not for her good food,

though.

"Check Engine"

As I was writing the above words, while touring along the shortcut, Van indicated that

something was wrong with Freedom. This, of course, got my attention, especially when he said

that the "Check Engine" light had been coming on and he needed to stop at the upcoming picnic

area. Instead, he drove on by.

Within a few minutes I smelled a strong sulfuric odor, which we later learned was the

lean exhaust going through the catalytic converter because a minimal amount of fuel was getting

through to the engine.

However, we didn't learn that worthwhile information until later. In the meantime, I was

convinced that we were about to go up in flames, as I pictured all the horror stories I'd heard of

people losing everything they owned in a burst of flames. I looked around at our precious home

and possessions (only the most valued received room in this lifestyle; the rest is stored in

Dottie's basement) and dreaded losing everything. In my moment of negativity, I also grumbled

at God for letting us end up in a situation like this, saying that I had agreed to continue traveling,

based on the premise that He would guide and protect us. Breaking down in this desolate place

definitely did not feel like we were being taken care of.

I insisted that Van stop at the side of the road and find out what was happening, as I shut

down my computer in anticipation of having to make a hasty getaway with the one thing I wasn't

willing to lose; other than my purse, of course.

He returned from his scouting around Freedom to announce that everything seemed okay.

But the smell persisted and the warning light remained, so we feared moving on. I joined Van

outside, leaving my computer and purse inside, since we didn't seem in imminent danger, and

we considered our options in this remote Texas desert; apparently nothing for thirty-miles in

either direction and "no service" on the cellular phone.

A few cars and trucks zipped by, intent upon getting to their destination, but knew that

we could flag down a trucker, if necessary. My attention shifted from the dry sagebrush and

cactus to the ground around us and I noticed all kinds of little flowers in bloom: delicate orange

blossoms and yellow ones, and white petals and purple flowers. And almost beneath my feet, a

lovely greenish bloom that looked like leaves, at first glance.

What a lesson from this desert place: the seemingly desolate land is filled with beauty

and life; no doubt wild animals also lived within our view. But, I needed to focus my attention

on the problem at hand: should we return to Fort Stockton, or take our chances on the small town

of Sanderson, about thirty-miles ahead?

It didn't feel right to backtrack, and I noticed on the map that Highway 90, from Big

Bend and Alpine, came through Sanderson, so I suggested that we take our chances and

cautiously move forward.

A Test in the Desert

Van agreed and began driving, as I prayed: "Thank You, God, for getting us safely to a

place that can take care of this problem."

We seemed to be okay, so Van kept driving: mile by mile went by and we noticed that

there were actually some signs of life, such as an oil rig complex and later, a refinery; both with

people in attendance. But the smell had stopped, although the warning light still appeared, and

we kept going. One of the longest distances we ever traveled.

I'd wondered why this happened at this time, and the answer came, as I said to Van,

"This is a test that has to do with your paradigm shift."

He replied, "Well, there sure isn't anything that I can do to fix it."

"That's how we know that God is taking care of things," I said, adding, "For instance,

you had an idea that you should stop at the picnic area. Why didn't you do it?"

"I was going too fast and it was on the other side of the highway, at a bad angle for me to

slow down and maneuver into that limited area."

"But you'd seen the sign indicating that it was coming." I paused as input began coming

through me, and I knew that an important message was being spoken through me, "You

remember that I said it was a test related to your paradigm shift?" You see, the idea came for you

to stop, but you didn't. That's because your old pattern kept you from being willing to listen and

learn. Your ego felt that you must have all the answers, so no matter what anyone else was

saying, you already had your mind made up. But now, with the paradigm shift, you have

surrendered that ego-related pattern and you are able to hear the still small voice of God, in this

case it spoke as intuition, or an idea, that you should stop. However, the ego kicked in with its

own idea and you went on by."

Van listened attentively and I asked, "Does this make any sense?"

"Oh, yes," he said.

Apparently there was a purpose for this test and lesson in the desert, and this chapter

would be going in an entirely different direction than I'd anticipated. Yet, this had been a

milestone and it would be a memory. But I knew that it wasn't over, yet.

A Legend in his own Time

In Sanderson, Van stopped at the truckstop and asked where we could get some help with

our problem and was directed to Bobby Brotherton, saying, "If he can't do it, then you'll have to

go to Del Rio. You're really out in the sticks here."

Bobby Brotherton could well be a legend in his own time, adding to another local legend,

Judge Roy Bean, whom I'll mention later. But, for now, let me introduce Bobby: a tall, slim,

ageless timeless man, whose looks probably haven't changed, and won't change, over the years.

Add a Texas accent to his traditional blue uniform and camouflage baseball cap and you have a

picture of this legendary person.

Bobby lives for his work, which he does nearly every day, accompanied by his wife,

Teresa, who works in the office, and he has built a virtual tow-truck empire, covering 200-miles

from Fort Stockton east to Ozona, south to Sanderson and east to Del Rio; and all the territory

west to Big Bend and Alpine. He has the contract with Good Sam, which has paid for his

tow-truck, and also AAA, among others.

Needless to say, Bobby knows his work and it didn't take him long to determine that the

fuel filter was the culprit; at least part of the problem. I might add that Van had come up with

that conclusion, too, after remembering a similar condition in the past.

When Bobby checked the fuel filter, he dumped out the residue from inside the filter and

it was filled with gunk, which he identified as rust, probably from inside the gas tank, or we'd

picked up some dirty fuel from a gas station. He said that he'd never seen so much gunk in a

filter, and he suggested that it had probably infiltrated the fuel pump, and maybe even the fuel

injectors. In other words, this could be a serious and expensive problem, because the entire

system would need to be flushed. This meant that we would need to be towed 120-miles to Del

Rio, because, as he put it, we would never make it otherwise.

I suspected that he might be exaggerating, but when he started the engine, it wouldn't

even idle, from lack of fuel. In other words, since the fuel filter had been replaced, it was

probably the fuel pump not pumping enough gas.

Hunker Down for the Tow Ride

Okay, so hunker down for a tow ride to Del Rio. I secured the inside of Freedom so

nothing would fall, at the tilted angle, and gathered my purse, then went inside to talk with

Teresa, while Bobby dismantled the drive-shaft and hooked-up the tow truck.

I learned that life in the small town, Sanderson, has its rewards compared to life in the

city: no drive-by shootings or gangs, and very little crime. Of course, it's a little difficult to get

her mom to come visit from San Antonia, but when she does, she stays a week, until Teresa gets

tired of her spoiling Bobby with too many meals. Ah, yes, even in small towns, the generation

gap exists.

Teresa, a youthful long-haired baby-boomer, had been playing Solitaire on the new

computer, so, I gave her my RVing business card and suggested that she visit my website, where

she will read her name in print. I knew this episode would be featured in my current chapter,

because it's definitely a milestone and memory.

I noticed a collection of clam shells and asked if they'd been to the beach, and was

surprised to learn that their ten-year-old daughter had collected them nearby. "Coons like to eat

them," she added.

"I can imagine," I replied, amazed that clams could be found locally.

We chatted awhile, until a neighbor came in and they began talking about computer

problems and that Fernando is the local troubleshooter.

Finally, Bobby announced that we were ready to go and I started to climb on board, when

I realized that I would be in the middle, so I backed down and invited Van to sit there, so his

long legs could by-pass the gear-shift and still be comfortable on this narrow seat. I hunkered

down, with part of my bottom on the seat, and I knew we were in for a long ride.

Bobby's World

However, it wasn't all that bad, because I kept asking Bobby questions and learned a lot

more about the man and his world.

He'd begun towing in Houston, but decided that wasn't for him. When his mom inherited

a nearby ranch, he moved to Sanderson and began building his empire: Brotherton Auto Repairs.

According to his impressive mottled green and black cards, with gold print, he is owner of the

full service garage which features Napa Auto Care and new tires in stock. He also offers 24-hour

towing service and tire road servicing, which accounts for the fact that he isn't home very often.

For instance, he spoke of towing an RV out of Big Bend to Fort Stockton on Monday.

Earlier he had mentioned that he's towed many Holiday Rambler RV's, like ours, with dead fuel

pumps; and he marveled that we had managed to go this long without having to replace it.

As we left town, Bobby waved to a fellow loading his pickup truck and explained that he

was going fishing at the Rio Grande, about 20-miles away, adding that he too likes to fish. Later,

we learned that he also likes to hunt, and the local wives don't appreciate that he takes their

husbands away on the weekends. He explained that because he and Teresa work together all

week, they like time apart on the weekends. Teresa said that sometimes they go into Odessa to

shop, see a movie, or bowl, and stay overnight, but Bobby said that doesn't happen very often;

usually she shops by herself.

Going across a bridge and climbing a steep hill, I remembered that Van and I had taken

this route, after leaving Big Bend last January, again on our way to Linda's. Now, I asked Bobby

where the family ranch was located and he pointed to the north. Van asked, "Is it a large ranch?"

He replied, "No, it's small, only 3,000 acres."

We both commented that seemed like a big ranch, but he said "Compared to Texas

standards, it's a small ranch."

Van asked what they raise and he replied, "Goats."

In reply to what they do with them, he said, "They ship them to Mexico, because they

cook them for meat, which they eat." He added, "It's a big business." Later, when we asked him

about the sheep, he said Mexico uses more than United States now.

I questioned where all the trucks were going, and Bobby explained that there was a big

shipping industry out of Mexico, through Laredo: 5,000 trucks a day haul good and products to

the United States. Of course, the US ships to Mexico, also, although we didn't discuss those

statistics.

When I complained about the problems with our RV, saying that maybe we should sell it

and buy a new smaller one, Bobby said, "I have more new RV's with problems than old one's."

"Great, that's not very good news, but I have heard that you have to get the bugs out of

new ones, but we should have done that by now, instead everything seems to be wearing out."

He didn't comment, so we rode along in silence awhile.

Along the way, Bobby spotted smoke and said that it could be a train, but was more

likely a fire in Mexico, which is what it turned out to be, as we drove closer, remembering that

it's across from the Rio Grande, which means it's also about 20-miles away.

Looking at the desolate mountains in Mexico, I asked if they had much trouble with

aliens trying to escape, and he said that the next fifteen-miles was a constant source of problems.

He also said that truckloads are caught transporting them from Dryden, a small town along the

highway, and 13 trucks had been stopped in the last month.

Bobby knows his country, and could answer questions about most anything. For instance,

I'd been hoping to see Texas Bluebonnet flowers, so when I saw a field of blue flowers he

confirmed that they were, indeed, bluebonnets. And when he explained that he thought he had

allergies, he said it could be from the cedar or greasewood, pointing them out to us along the

way. The latter, he said, would put a hole through your tire, if you ran over it. Good information.

Another Legend

When we arrived at Langtry, the home of the famous hanging judge, Bobby pulled off the

road to check everything, so I went inside to buy some postcards. I'd noticed two men sitting at a

table, one with a tall hat, and I laughed when I took time to look around for a better look. One

distinguished older gentleman, maybe the owner, and a statue of Judge Roy Bean, sitting at the

table. What a hoot! Adding another memory to this place. The first memory took place a year

ago when we stopped at the museum and walked through the actual building where the

notorious, though questionable, hangings occurred. According to the legend that we read, he only

threatened to hang the culprits, if they returned, when sending them out of town with no horse

and limited water.

I was glad that we had visited the site then, because we definitely would not have that

option this trip.

Texas's Second Largest Lake

Van and I remembered the large lake near Del Rio, but we didn't know that it's the

second largest man-made lake in Texas. Yet, when looking at it stretching on for many miles,

it's understandable.

I realized that the lake was used for recreational purposes, but it occurred to me to ask,

"Why did they build this lake?"

"Irrigation," he replied.

"That makes sense," I said, adding, "Someone along the way sure had a good idea."

Van asked, "Is it filled exclusively from rain water?"

"It's a combination of the Pecos and Rio Grande Rivers, which merged a few miles

back," he replied.

Bobby pointed to a large dam and said, "They damned up the Rio Grande to make this

lake and half of the dam is in the US and the other half is in Mexico, forming the Amistad

International Reservoir, with a large amount of shoreline also in Mexico.

I don't know what Mexico does with its share of water and shoreline, but the US has

turned it into a Recreational Area with many campsites; some are even free, and the RV's line

the shore, particularly for the fishermen and boaters.

But, again, this trip would not be about stopping for recreation. We were on a mission.

Well, actually two missions, now: the first being to get our RV running again, and the second

being to celebrate the homecoming of Adam and Michael.

Another Day's Travel

I'd called Linda from Sanderson and left a message, so once Bobby had deposited us in

the Chevrolet parking lot, and gone on his way, I again called to give her an update. "We're in

Del Rio, looking at a beautiful golden orange sunset, and we'll be here overnight. Hopefully

we'll be outta here tomorrow and see you Saturday."

"We just had the same sunset over the trees," Linda said, reminding me that we are really

quite close to them; about 200-miles; another day's travel for us. Actually, so far we weren't too

far off schedule, so we prayed that the problem would be discovered and solved very quickly.

Or Maybe Two

But it didn't go that way. Friday's computerized diagnosis concluded that it wasn't the

fuel pump, but the engine's computer system was mal-functioning and needed to be replaced.

However, they didn't have the part and it wouldn't arrive until the next morning. Ordinarily they

don't work on Saturday, but the manager said they would come in and get the part replaced,

getting us on the road by noon.

Of course, this meant spending another day and night in their parking lot. No other

choice, so I caught up on letter-writing, making copies of my Newsletters to enclose to the

several Freedomers with whom I still corresponded.

I also took the time to send a special card to my son, giving him support in a recent

change in his life. So, the time was put to good use for needed activities. And in the evening I

called to tell Linda the change of plans, but Michael answered and we chatted briefly. Both of us

still feeling excited about our upcoming visit in the free world with their family and hopeful that

it would be Sunday, if not Saturday.

In fact, Michael said "I'm hoping you'll be here when my Parole Officer is here so she

can meet my Spiritual Mother." Although the possibilities seemed remote at this point, I felt

honored that Michael wanted us to meet.

This ended my activities of the day at a time when I would ordinarily relax and watch

TV, which we had available, but the channels were all in Spanish. Bobby had explained that

that's because their nearby towers have more power than the US regulated limits, so they

overpower local transmissions. Great! Now I had to miss my favorite shows. Instead, I played

computer Solitaire and Van went to bed early, as he was tired from frustrating day, which

included more inner processing of his new paradigm shift.

I'd made the comment that it must seem different making choices, rather than acting as if

he were making them, and then feeling the compulsion of doing things, and he agreed, though he

still seemed confused with his inner changes.

Perhaps this was the reason for our being blocked, again, and unable to move forward,

because I couldn't seem to make any forward movement with my new website design either.

And when I called Joyce, she too seemed stopped. Not only that, but my chest congestion and

sore throat seemed to have returned, so I took time to meditate, asking God, "What's going on?"

The only answer seemed to be "It's a matter of timing." So, I relaxed and let God handle

things in His own time.

I Didn't Have an Inkling

However, once I settled down for the night, a bedlam of thoughts and input brought to my

attention that a great deal more was actually going on. In fact, this process was far from over.

Not only was Van going through his paradigm shift, but something was happening with me too,

and I didn't seem to have an inkling, as yet. Isn't it interesting how we always have such clear

vision for the other person's faults, but our own often elude us?

As the Mexican music wafted through the night airwaves, from the nearby Civic Center

activities, I began mulling over the situation and thinking that it might be a good time to simply

give it up, concluding that if this website is God's Divine Plan then He would have to make it

happen.

It's for sure I couldn't do anything about Joyce's circumstances, including the fact that

she couldn't download the new website and her attitude seemed rather listless, as she said, "I

thought things were going to work out with this, and I don't feel like I'm making any

contribution."

This time I felt too despondent to try to encourage her, when I actually needed support

myself, so I said, "Well, keep praying and asking for Guidance. Once it all starts to happen, it'll

be like opening a floodgate."

She didn't sound convinced and I wasn't in a frame of mind to pursue the subject, so we

talked about her recent job loss when the daughter of Mona decided to put her mom in a senior

home. But Joyce already had a replacement position working 6-1/2-days-a-week.

And I wasn't sure if either Michael or Adam would be interested in working with the

ministry, although it had been an agreement for many years. Now, with them outside and living

their lives, and within a day of learning their answer, I probably felt abandonment issues coming

up, as I anticipated that they would be moving on with their own interests. And, of course, that's

to be expected, so I prepared myself for that eventuality. Actually, as I thought about it, I

realized that I was, again, feeling those childhood pangs, as I anticipated moving onward alone

with my website ministry.

During the day, I'd also written to two other Freedomers and suggested that we drop

correspondence, because they were too busy with their activities: one had enrolled in a two-year

Vocational Training Program and the other was involved with his legal matters. Definitely, signs

that my prison ministry was ending, and yet, I knew that my Inner Freedom Ministry on the

website is just beginning.

On the other hand, it too had come to a momentary stop. Furthermore, Snow had

e-mailed that she had already begun redesigning her own website, using the graphic that I had

selected for my RVing webpage. I'd agreed to let her use it, but I felt disappointed, and I

wondered if there was a way we could both use it by altering the design somewhat. In fact, I'd

used an orange rectangle, as a header, which changed the appearance. For that matter, I only

intended using it on one page, so perhaps a communication with Snow would resolve the

situation, once I could make contact; so far, she hadn't answered her phone.

As I mulled the stacking amount of problems, I began to realize that I hadn't been

recognizing and handling them, which probably added to my recurring congestion and blockage.

So, now, everything should begin to open up and flow.

Forward Movement

Saturday morning, I'd intended writing about my insights, but instead I felt Guided to

work on the new webpage for my courses. The blockages seemed to open and I moved forward,

adding the appropriate material and making it possible to integrate the two programs. Evidently

something had taken place to activate the forward movement.

In the meantime, the Service Manager arrived, along with a different tech, Ben,

explaining that Santos, who was supposed to do the work, hadn't shown up. Without Ben being

here to work on another project, we would have been stuck until Monday. So, thank You, God.

Several hours later, the job was done, but Van asked a question about the transmission

and Ben had to remove the doghouse (inside cover over the engine) and sure enough he found

another part that needed to be replaced. At least it wasn't the entire transmission, but we still had

to wait for the part to be delivered from a parts store and installed.

Diversionary Tactic

By this time I was feeling angry, because Van sometimes indulges in a Diversionary

Tactic, as I call his unconscious bid to divert attention to himself and his interests. I'm not sure if

this is an activity of his inner child or ego, but it gets on a roll when I am about to embark on an

endeavor that is important to me, such as this get-together with Adam, Michael and their family.

Van's covert maneuver always seems perfectly justified and reasonable, but it takes us

off course from my endeavor and puts the attention onto his project. I've come to recognize this

procedure as part of his passive-aggressive nature, and it always happens when he has agreed to

do something that his unconscious doesn't want to do. For instance, when we were getting ready

to move to Colorado, the first time, and there was so much to do. That's the time he decided to

start working his MLM business to the max: on the surface, reasonable and justified, but totally

off purpose.

This day's delaying tactic smacked of such an ulterior motive and I didn't hesitate to let

him know that I was onto it. Of course, he looked shocked, but he knew that I knew, and that put

an end to it. Again, we could move forward, but these ongoing games wear me out and throw me

into my "time to leave" retaliatory mode. Not a pleasant situation, especially when I was looking

forward to the Big Moment later in the day.

God's Flower Garden

We continued our journey, which had now been dampened on an emotional level, but the

weather too had become overcast and dreary. Nevertheless, we took the back roads across

country toward our destination.

Despite all the setbacks, I was happy that we'd taken this route when we began traveling

through the most heavenly scenery, miles and miles and miles of fields of tall flowers: pinks and

fuchsia and deep read and violet mixed with white ones. And sometimes the scene would change

with fields of short yellow, orange or golden flowers. We even saw some fields of bluebonnets

and some purple flowers. A veritable rainbow of colors and they were everywhere, even along

the road. And, of course, everything was enhance with a background of greenery: shrubs, bushes,

trees, fields.

I'd never seen anything like it, and I became so absorbed that I forgot to take pictures,

partly because I kept waiting for the sun to come out from behind the clouds, but it never did.

So, I have to be satisfied with painting a word picture, which I hope preserves the beauty of

those miles.

I thought the scenery would last all the way to Pawnee, where I could take pictures the

next day, but the flower garden ended. However, it was replaced by miles of tall, bushy golden

trees and lighter yellowish bushes (I later learned they are both a form of acacia tree). I did

manage to take a fleeting picture of them swaying in the heavy wind. And I still had the promise

of more bluebonnets, which Michael told me were still blooming in their area.

God's Flower Garden surely was a memorable part of our Texas trip, and ultimately it

would survive the frustration of the RV repairs.

Arrival in Pawnee

Once we reached Dilley, and crossed Highway 35, we were in familiar territory, as we

continued driving east into the darkened skies and the threat of a storm. We had hoped there

wouldn't be rain, because we remembered one visit here when Freedom got hopelessly stuck

(along the road by Linda's) and it took a miracle, in the form of a double-bin gravel truck, to get

us out; thanks to the kind-hearted driver, an angel, for sure. But that story has been told in

another book.

When we finally arrived in Pawnee this time, it was cold and windy, but no rain.

Nevertheless, we parked in town, by the schoolhouse and called our friends to come meet us. We

had arrived at our destination and remembering that it was Saturday night, I turned on the TV.

As I watched a few moments of Lawrence Welk, I recalled that a week had gone by since

this chapter began at the Indian Casino, near Phoenix. That program had honored "Milestones

and Memories" which titled this chapter. And we had added some more "milestones and

memories" to our lives in that short period of time. And more would be taking place within the

next few days, starting with the arrival of Linda and Michael.