This morning I awoke to a rare sight, the fog was rolling in from the East end of the valley. The air had a nice chill to it and as I ambled along the lakeshore, a steamy mist rose off the lake surface. The normally noisy ducks and coots were pretty quiet. In fact, the entire area was pretty silent. It was a great shift from the heat and humidity of the past couple of weeks. However, the sun is up and the fog is gone on this end at 8am. But, I suspect we will have cooler temperatures due to the marine layer and lower temps down the hill.

My weekend was pretty fun and I hit the hay really early yesterday. I was lucky to avoid all the motorcycles and noise by being tucked away in upper Moonridge with the gang. We had a good Sunday ranch breakfast filled with laughter, stories and other tall tales.

The Cowboy Gathering was fabulous, as usual, and I got to listen to previews of George Dickey’s next CD, get the scoop on the happenings with my other pals and brainstorm ideas. Alas, the squirrel negotiations poem did not get shared. Darryl misplaced my article and but promised to have it soon.

The thunderstorms didn’t cause too much trouble until yesterday afternoon but there is speculation that the crowds were down because of it. I sure hope they do the event again next year but I noticed a drastic drop in vendors, perks for the performers, sponsors and brochure quality and attendance.

Lots of the boys have house concerts and maybe we can coerce them up here to Fawnskin and do a min-version if they do cancel the event. All of them love it here not only because of the friendly atmosphere and beauty of the area, but also because they get to bunk together and catch up with each other instead of rushing to their different venues and heading back to their hotel rooms.

I got an invite to apply for an on call arrangement over the weekend and so cross your fingers. Being a creative type is sometimes really difficult on the cash flow end. (I would like to have another patron like I did in San Diego.)I might have lots of projects at the moment but at the moment the monetary situation has been horrible. Cross your fingers and toes…and if you need any assistance at work give me a jingle!

BTW: Today is the NO BUTTS effort to quit smoking by Colleen. If you feel like joining her just email. Cynthia (Post Master) mentioned that it would be a great idea and perhaps stop all the butt littering in her parking lot. She is tired of sweeping up the butts!

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Thanks to all of you for your kind comments. My new nickname is “The Incredible Shrinking Woman” and someone else told me, “You’re turning into a real street walker.” Sheesh, the wit around here!

I’ve been walking six days a week for about 13 weeks now. I have not lost any poundage but apparently inches. At least that is what everyone is telling me. Many of you know that I went through some heavy stress that took a toll on my body and so I am working to still climb out of that hole.

For those of you who see me daily, I don’t usually see you but it isn’t anything personal. So, when I am ambling along—keep in mind that it is akin to sleep walking. If you see me jump when you say hi or honk—that is why! This weekend the problem is escalated since I am staying up WAY past my bedtime with other creative types. I figure I can sleep when they leave on Sunday.

This am I met Ivor and Doug. Ivor is a very large Great Dane and belongs to Doug who bought the place at the juncture of Mohawk and Brookside. I don’t have any qualms about making dog friends and always return home covered with dirt, dog hair and slime. Maybe that is why dating is difficult because I am NOT a pretty picture by the time I get home (and before you make a smarta** comment, yes I know I look like hell in the am). Anyway, Ivor left me a large parting gift of slime across my chest this am. Yuuuccck.

Otis, my St Bernard pal, pitched a fit at Ivor and so got a time out. I love Otis and say hi to him every day but you all know that I hate bad behavior. My dog pals help heal the space left after the loss of my beloved Clyde (who passed away prior to my move to Fawnskin) and that’s why I have so many dog pals. I don’t think I’ve ever loved something so much in my life and it is a big spot to fill…my pal, Paul Hendel and I were discussing our dog losses last night and perhaps that is why it came up. Clyde and his Oso were “cousins” and best pals. The delinquents always made us laugh. I’ll have to dig out a photo and post it.

Paul Hendel is a western entertainer. When the Cowboy Gathering comes to town I tend to overdose on the fabulous music and humor of the cowboy poets. I’ve had the pleasure to get to know a lot of the top talent and Paul’s wife makes me swear to keep him out of trouble while he is up here. She is a budding actress and is busy with another play. I keep hoping she will come up to visit again but it hasn’t happened yet. I met the duo when they lived in Arrowhead during my first residency in the Big Bear Valley.

SO, my point is that the cowboy poetry and music event is beyond any expectation you could have and if you can make it to the event today or tonight you’ll be glad. Besides, you’ll miss all the motorcycles during the run today!

In my sleepy stupor this am, I noticed a couple of truckloads filled with CDF fire crew. They didn’t stop here but I didn’t get the scoop. Keep an eye on the scanner and the skies. Looks like we are in for some more thunderstorms already.

I won’t be back to leave you a note until Monday as I am going to stay with a household of those crazy cow folks in upper Moonridge. Be sure to call me with any tidbits!

Oh yeah, I can’t believe how much “toilet” humor everyone has been sharing with me. I personally believe the last issue was fairly gross, but the comments are worse. Everybody has a story—but the toilet issue is done and it is time to move on!

PS I stopped by the house of Napoleon and Cleo yesterday afternoon. Napoleon wasn’t off running amuk. He is fine and was off on adventures with his dad. Cleo was the sole escape.

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Most everyone knows the subtle clues of the Fawnskin fire engine calls. Sitting in town center reveals a whole lot. Basically, the rule of thumb is that if the boys at Station 49 drive by in their yellow gear, there is a fire, otherwise it is probably a TC (traffic collision) or other call.

Well, yesterday the whole crowd at the Moose Lodge 2085 got a good chuckle after the boys went out heading East and then suddenly were rushing back through town heading West. A lot of joking was going on. The REAL story is that there are two dispatch centers down the hill. When people phone in calls they don’t always know where they are or don’t convey accurate information. In such cases, the boys are radioed with corrections. However, don’t let that get in the way of a good story to tease Dave with!

Fire House Dogs
This morning was my social day. I love chatting with Jim and the boys at Bear Creek Coffee. Soon after, I found myself pulling a dog off the highway. She wasn’t hit, just standing in the middle of the bridge and wagging her tail!

Anyway, I had not met her before BUT I am a friend to her canine companion that seems to be missing. After a call to animal control from the fire house, I walked Cleo back into her yard. The gate wasn’t latched and her two-year-old yellow lab pal is running around somewhere. I believe he usually wears a red collar; his name is Napoleon. If you find him he lives in the house next to the fire station on the corner of Mohawk.

My other observation of the area dogs (Did I mention my dog pal count is somewhere around 25?) has revealed that their favorite stops are Ed’s house (aka dog party house) and the fire station? The boys really don’t want them peeing on everything but the canines believe the fire house is the best place for leaving their scent.

I think the problem might be that there are not enough fire hydrants for them to pee on and so they are subliminally trying to get that message through by their actions. SO, if your dog is missing be sure to check at the fire house and then Ed’s up off Cherokee and Mohawk.

The Fawnskin Flyer chronicles life in the small mountain town of Fawnskin, California.

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