Nom de Plume

Ben, Steve’s nephew came out to visit for a week. Steve took him camping. This is really cheating, because I didn’t go on the trip. Instead, I stayed home and worked. They were gone six days. Not many pictures for six days, but what Steve took is pretty cool. Pam, I’ve burned all the images onto CD for Ben to give to you. But he may lose it, the way he lost his shoes. We still haven’t figured that one out. Steve gave him his Tevas to wear; Ben was not happy. Apparently, Tevas are not cool with the about-to-be sixteen crowd. Who knew?

Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday. And here I am at the ranch. Actually, I’ve been here for a week–came down because Millie has lung cancer. We went down to Escondido for her chemo last week–50 miles each way–to find out that her white blood cell count was too low, and back up the hill we came.

Actually, this sort of thing has characterized this trip. I have been fighting off a cold for the past month and a half, and the day before I came here, it finally settled in to stay with a wheeze and a hack–and that’s all I’ve been doing. The other thing is that all the various projects I have somehow converged into this past week, and I’ve been working insane hours. Which hasn’t helped the being sick part.

But enough woe! Millie, despite it all, SEEMS well. She certainly looks great. I went to the doctor here day before yesterday and got drugs–and I’m starting to feel better. It’s been raining, for which everyone in Southern California is always grateful. And of course it’s Thanksgiving! The turkey is in the oven, all sorts of family is coming over, and my mother is in the kitchen doing something with sweet potatoes.

Steve’s sailing in Swiftsure this weekend, and I was prepared for another weekend of widowhood. But I’m headed up to meet him in Victoria tomorrow. We’ll spend the night and come back Monday. Should be fun.

My mother called this morning because she was having problems uploading her photo for this contest. Well, who could resist? I won’t win–I wrote the thing in two seconds–but if you feel compelled to vote for me, I won’t complain.

1. Got up this morning (Amman time) at 5.
2. Fog so bad at Queen Alia airport that plane is diverted to military airbase (the old airport). We are bussed there.
3. Missed only direct flight from Heathrow to Seattle.
4. Redirected from Heathrow to Vancouver, then Alaska Airlines from Vancouver to Seattle–adding nine hours to travel time.
5. The Vancouver airport is really confusing.
6. Alaska Airlines flight cancelled because flight attendent ruptured eardrum. For a while there, there was the possibility that no flight would go out tonight, in which case I would have rented a car. But they have another plane coming in; now we arrive at 11:20-two hours later than the original flight and 11 hours after the original booking.

I am trying to be positive. So:

1. BA has tons of movies and individual passenger screens.
2. Managed to sleep the entire London-Vancouver leg and switch out of a middle seat.
3. My luggage actually got transferred (one clears U.S. customs in Canada apparently)
4. Contrary to expectations after traveling to the Middle East, I was not questioned by Homeland Security regarding my trip. I was, however, asked on a date.
5. Alaska Airlines just sent someone around offering coffee, drinks, and snacks. Must caffeinate. Adios.

Yesterday, we rode–and the night before we stayed in a camp. This was the best place we stayed–despite being really cold at night. Lots of conversation, Bedouin tea, and interesting people, including Attalah Sweilhin who runs the horseback riding facilities, the sheik of Wadi Rum, Dr. Faizl, and a Danish archaeologist who was digging in the palace at Aqaba.

I ended up buying a disposable camera for Petra because my SIM card was too small, and if I get around to it, I’ll get those as digital images too. But for now, all you get are photos of Little Petra–which pales when compared to the big site. But since we saw this beforehand, it was still pretty impressive.

Amazing.

This one’s for Helen.

I have a confession to make: We’re here in the off-season, and the water is cold. So I haven’t actually been IN the Dead Sea yet, though I’m going to make myself before we leave.

I have, however, been the Dead Sea pool. And the first time I got in (I am now a seasoned veteran with three plunges under my belt), I giggled. Out loud. Because getting in Dead Sea water is kind of like seeing the Taj Mahal in person for the first time: You know what to expect, but nothing really prepares you for the experience of it.

Yes, you float. But more than that, your limbs seem to have a life of their own because they just keep roiling up. Draw your legs to your chest, and you bounce up and down a bit. In fact, the best way to describe it is to imagine that you’re a rubber ball floating in the ocean.

And now, a facial and dead sea mud wrap are calling my name. But first, a few pictures from our morning drive:

Getting into the Dead Sea water pool right after shaving is a very, very bad idea.