One of my most favorite things to see when we travel across the vast prairies of this country is the mile-long freight trains that often run alongside the highway. I start out trying to count the number of cars but soon give up because I simply can’t keep up.  But if I’m really lucky I’ll hear that long drone – somewhat lonely – call of a train whistle.  There’s just something about it that tugs at my soul; almost makes me want to bum a ride in an empty freight car headed for parts unknown.  Almost.

The Yin and Yang of Life. It’s the title of my – our – life these days.

Here’s the thing, we actually closed escrow on the sale of Abigail’s on March 31.  Yep. It’s true.  Let no one have any doubt that I can keep a secret.  Ha!

“It’s so nice to see someone who eats so much fresh food,” said the man standing in line behind me at the Costco check out. I turned, smiled, and replied, “Well, the truth of the matter is I own a B&B in Ashland and this is my weekly run.”

I think the biggest misconception about B&B’s – for people who have never stayed at a B&B, or for those who are just unaware – is that a B&B is not a hostel.  And, there are those who do not seem to understand the difference.

With commands such as left forward, right back, forward two and HOLD ON! The adrenaline rush of white water rafting on the Rogue River makes for an awe-inspiring (and ridiculously fun) afternoon on the water.

There’s nothing like a good old-fashioned small town 4th of July parade to remind one of the grand ‘ole flag.

It’s a rare thing to have the inn to ourselves – very rare – but the other night I took the opportunity to actually sit in the unusually quiet dining room to work on my weekly breakfast menu planning, bacon & eggs and so much more, while Abi watched the world cup soccer game back in our apartment.  It’s true.  I admit it.  I could care less about watching the world cup soccer games.  Am I the only one?

We traveled across the USA this past December and January. There were several places and stories, such as the Battle of Franklin, that really stood out. The stories have stayed with me sitting on a little brain shelf waiting to be dusted off and told.  Some stories are easy.  Some, not so much. I want to do the characters justice by finding just the right niche, the not so common side of things.

Imagine living to be 99-years-old and living your entire life in the same place, never going beyond what you know.  This is the story of Alfred – Alfred Jackson – an enslaved man who spent the better part of his life in servitude to President Andrew Jackson.

Sardine in a can.  At this moment I think I understand the feeling of the proverbial sardine in a can. I am currently somewhere around 30,000 feet trapped in a tin cylinder with about 240 other sardines. The man sitting next to me is probably 6’2” if he’s an inch and although I pity him, practically folded in half in his middle seat, no way am I giving up my aisle seat for anyone.