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| Liz, quite happy with her parting win. |
Some tears flowed this morning when we parted ways with our buddy, Liz. We had a great time with her at Folsom. The rides were spectacular, and our time together was good. And not to worry. By this evening, Liz was back in the Bay Area at her son and daughter-in-law's home rocking her little darling, Emma, the tears long gone. As for us, we drove North on the back roads through California farm country: we passed nut trees by the thousands, and scads of fruit trees blushing with the first blooms of spring. We stopped for lunch at a rest area when we merged with I-5. And then just as sudden as a rogue wave rushes the shore, we reached the Siskiyou's. The Shasta reservoir, while not quite full, glistened in the cool mountain air. We passed a burned patch going over the mountains that must have occurred last summer. Scorched trees stood on both sides of the highway like lonely wraiths, and here and there small patches of green stood tall like honorable soldiers spared for another fight. But most spectacular of all was the gleaming white face of Mt. Shasta. After hours of flat lands speckled with manicured food bearing trees, the wildness of the forest and the cold magnificence of the mountain caused Judy to say, "I can see how a person could live out here." We arrived safely at the Friendly RV Park, and most amazing, the proprietor greeted us at the check-in with our paper work already printed. She said, "Pick any open spot." In all of our travels, we've never been greeted by an already prepared host. Quite dazzling. We took a little walk around the area, fixed dinner, listened to the sad news that March Madness is cancelled, and continued to get our heads around the scope of this pandemic. But we have no crystal ball; rather, we have strong faith, real hope, and a ready resolve to face whatever may happen. In the meantime, life is good, especially today.
Miss Emily, our oldest grand daughter, and budding boat babe.
Our site for the night at Friendly RV Park.
Miss Sarah, our second oldest grand daughter, grinning as usual.
Miss Emma, rocking in the motorized chair her dad, John, made.
There's Sarah, grinning again.
Our view from the gas station in Weed.
And here's Emily again, and yes, she usually has an open book with her.
And who can forget our youngest, grandson, Falcon. He's a grinner, too.
And last but not least is our oldest, young Master Sawyer. We've got quite the crew, and usually we are just fit to be tied we're so happy.
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