Aaaachooo from the end of the road

Aeons ago, I had allergy shots which provided a cure. Now, suddenly, 77 miles from the nearest store my hay fever has gone into high gear. I'm making do with some Tylenol cold medicine which stops the sneezing and runny nose.

We do laundry in an "egg" which works pretty well for small hand laundry stuff like underwear and socks but not towels. For towels and sheets, you go to Bruno's laundromat, all three washers. Bruno's has a monopoly here. Restaurant, gas station, motel, casino, laundromat, rental mobil homes, you name it, Bruno's got it.

If I ever went into the witness protection program, I might consider Northern Nevada.

Last night there was a "talent show' at one of the local watering holes. This town has several bars, including Brunos, of course.

The last of the Burners, the DPW crew were whoopping it up. God, they were young and with attitude and I felt like, well, old, and I left the party to the younger crowd. Some guy knew I had written a book and maybe he said he had it or had read it. In the noise I couldn't hear. Came home and watched CSI Miami, Nip/Tuck and House. Nip/Tuck is one sick weird program, but it compels. House was one I had seen before. So it goes.

The sun is rising and I can see a gazillion ripe pears on a tree a few doors down. My black sweater is drying on the line from yesterday. We made Spanish Rice with the wonderful tomatoes from the garden and some other stuff that was lying around. I like to take a look at what's available in the larder and cook something.

Today we're driving up to the Opal Mine toward Soldier Meadow, so I won't do big cooking.

Greetings and Aaachhhooo from the end of the road.

Grapeshot

Nevada Nocturne

I've been working on a poem for the past two evenings. I change it whenever I pull it up on my computer.


Nevada Nocturne ©

In Gerlach , Nevada,
In the deep September night,
A slide whistle player tooted along the street
A cheerful sound, whistling in the dark.

Somewhat later, the long freight,
Having crossed the Black Rock Desert,
Raced through, passing the old water tower.
And shaking the single-wide where I slept.

I have always known
Trains racing through the night
Trains running west
Trains vibrating sound, like a tornado.

And I slept again.

Still later, but before dawn
In the hills beyond Gerlach,
The coyotes howled
A lonesome plaintive sound,

And I slept again
Into the September morn,
In Gerlach, Nevada
Soundlessly.