Writing on the Road

I tried so hard to work/write in Sedona, AZ, but the RV park Internet went down, so I drove to the Starbucks by the Hyatt downtown.

The only Starbucks I think in the world without WiFi.

So I drove to another Starbucks, but a very nice homeless man sat next to me. And he smelled. And then he started playing guitar. Sigh. I left and found the Wifi in the RV park had come back to life.

 I actually have to work on the road to make a living. I write every damn day. I make a good living- contrary to what some people think. How else could we afford gas and booze?


Not on The Husband's social security check, that's for sure!

Earlier this month we stayed in Julian, CA and I wrote articles about tents and food reviews at the Julian Library. The old folks drove me nuts muttering while putting puzzles together and the small children were running amok, but then I found the ' quiet room.' Bliss!

When we stayed at our good friends fancy house in Scottsdale my office was a little fancier and very quiet.

Now I am in a tiny town in Apache Junction, AZ writing about a survivalist and traveling to caves in Kentucky while in the local grocery store.

 The average age here is 75, so not a lot of competition over the tables near the plugs. I did however witness two old dudes almost throw blows over who got to the electric grocery carts, but their caregivers stepped in to stop the fight.


Maybe I should write about that!

Back to Business

Last month's blog posts were brought to you by The Husband- who thinks he deserves  to celebrate his birthday for an entire month- like a teenage girl.

Pam and The Husband(on the right)  playing croquet.

The problem is- I indulge his funny, joie de vivre lifestyle- but someone has to be the grown-up, and that my friends, is me.

While he is at the beach sitting next to pretty girls and cute gay guys, I am back at the homestead writing articles. While he is riding his bike down the coast highway I am back at the RV looking for more writing gigs so we can afford to eat.

Those damn mai tais don't grow on trees, ya know!

To be fair, the only check that is regularly deposited in our bank account like clockwork is his social security check and pension from the Grocers Union- so I suppose he can run/jump/and play all he wants- but next year- can we keep it to a 15- day celebration, because I can't keep up!