Author: Steve

Next victim for the Denver Broncos? New England. Too bad. Defending
Superbowl champions and all. Too bad they have to fly all the way to Denver
and get beat.

Motorhoming is about trade-offs. You move from the house to a motorhome,
you get less space, but you get space that moves, a fair trade. Move from
one motorhome to another, and things change. Even when the new motorhome is
newer and nicer, there are still trade-offs. Moving from the Bounder to the
Beaver was an easy decision, but it was hard to let go of the bedroom window
I like so much. The Bounder had it, the Beaver doesn’t. At night, I could reach up and turn the crank. The louvered windows opened
right above our heads. When it got too cold, I barely had to wake up to
reach up for the crank and squeeze it shut. The new motorhome has no window
right over our heads. It has windows within reach, on each side, but none
right over our heads. I had to just suck it up and do without. Now the weather is getting colder, …… and we’re not. No cold air
falling down onto our heads. No draft from the louvers. Now I remember
what it was like when it got really cold, ice on the inside of the window
over our heads, wet pillows by morning. Stuff a towel up between the shade
and the window, take the towel out and dry it out during the day. I think I’ve gotten over not having that window I liked so much.

First frost. Thirty-one degrees last night. The storm has passed.
Brilliant blue morning with frost on the shady side of everything. First
the bottom drops out on a clear night, then the temperature recovers over
the next several days. We’ll be sunny and seventy by the end of the week.

_____________________________________________
From: Steve Taylor [mailto:spt@thetaylorcompany.net]
Sent: Monday, October 10, 2005 9:16 PM
To: Bill Taylor (E-mail); David Taylor (E-mail); Tom Taylor (E-mail)
Subject: cortez
The consolidation continues. Two cars, the Accord and the Jeep, become one.

We watched the eagles dance. Mesa Verde National Park, high on a ridge, standing leafless trees. Four
golden eagles swirling, high overhead, riding the standing wave, folding and
falling from the sky to tumble with each other or flare out and land on the
tree, launching again, soaring on the currents to rejoin the others. Over
and over.