First Sargent of the Marine Corps about DADT Repeal

 At a base in South Korea, Sgt. Major Barrett told Marines 

 “Article 1, Section 8 of the Constitution is pretty simple,”  “It says, ‘Raise an army.’ It says absolutely nothing about race, color, creed, sexual orientation.

“You all joined for a reason: to serve,” he continued. “To protect our nation, right?”

“Yes, sergeant major,” Marines replied.

“How dare we, then, exclude a group of people who want to do the same thing you do right now, something that is honorable and noble?” Sgt. Maj. Barrett continued, raising his voice just a notch. “Right?”

Sgt. Maj. Barrett then described conversations with U.K. troops, who saw a similar ban lifted a decade ago, with little disruption. And to drive the point home, he produced a pocket copy of the Constitution.

“Get over it,” he said. “We’re magnificent, we’re going to continue to be. … Let’s just move on, treat everybody with firmness, fairness, dignity, compassion and respect. Let’s be Marines.”

June 17th Journal Entry Wondering why I haven't gone to the river yet?

The past few days have been a time of irritation. My face was swelled out so much my skin felt tight and itchy. Red everywhere except for my forehead, my nose itched and looked like an over large radish attached to a red beach ball. I dreaded putting a razor to my face and decided not to one day. Thanks for reminding me that tiny golden hairs sprouting from a beach ball do not unmake a woman and bring negative attention near as much as the red beach ball all by itself.
I purchased antihistamine and went to the doctor's when the swelling in my throat became worrisome. I applied cortisone  twice a day as instructed and was glad that the itch moderated. Now, my face still itches but the swelling has gone down and the redness is lightening to sunburn pink.
During this swelling time I tried to stay at home and out of sight, but found I was very uncomfortable doing so. At first, I attributed this discomfort to the itch and to worry that I looked so bad that I did not want anyone to see me. But as time passed I recognized the falsity of these explanations.  I was antsy not because of the itch. I was uncomfortable because I was not interacting,  in communication, sharing with anyone but you. You are alright, but you have to admit that most of our conversations are one-sided. I talk and you listen. You show and I see. You hardly ever talk and I hardly ever show.
When I am with other folks, I spend much time listening and much time showing. I was missing that people centered dynamic. Because I missed that interaction I slipped into analyzing mode, and started wondering why I missed that kind of people sharing. Why?
I remember that I have a very high need to be loving. That doesn't mean I need to be loved much, but I need to be expressing love and caring to be happy. That's part of my genetic make up, something I can not change and don't ever want to change. When my father tried to use killing my pets and beating the snot out of my mother against me, I reached out to protect and care even more. Although I have a more than average need for freedom, that kicks in whenever I experience some one's attempts to control me, I still need always to find ways to help people.

May 28th Journal Entry

Just thoughts.
People strive to know who they are. We analyze our actions, recall memories, learning to anticipate our own feelings. We say, "that is so like me" or  "I wasn't always like this."
What does it feel like not to have the memories needed to form a knowledge of self? It feels vaguely wrong. It is not acutely painful. I suppose a global temporary amnesia would bring sharp pain. But long-term amnesia has no sharp edges. It irritates like a pea under the mattress.
Live with such amnesia for years and it will not cause a sharp pain, even when you discover that the story of your life told by your parents is full of holes and falsehoods. You have learned to live with not knowing. I got past the need to dig for the truth, to fill the gaps, to know myself.
It was better to live in an imaginary world, with an imaginary history. My parents needed to protect themselves with whatever stories they could weave to cover themselves. The least i could dow was to pretend belief, allowing them to feel safe. That is so like me.

May 27th Journal Entry

Friday. I have no freedom, never have had any, possibly I will never have freedom. How can I say such a thing when I live in the land of the free and the home of the brave?
Each and every string of proteins, near proteins, string of amino acids, and every seemingly random grouping of carbon and many non-carbon atoms draw together into clusters. The whole universe seems  drawn into clusters. Altruistic motions and behaviors always arise. The whole of reality strives toward union with and combination with each part, all of its parts. Freedom as a concept implies some form of independence. Such independence may have existed in the instant before the first Big Bang, but it is not present anywhere now.
Daddy, even if you did not exist in that pre-bang instant, you are destined to exist in the future. The evolving, clustering, thinking, sharing cosmos must form you. Daddy, if you did exist then and decreed the tremendous Bang then all that is is destined to form another like you. You and she will then think, share and become one.
In that I am a part of your creation, loved by you, nurtured by you and drawn always toward sharing, I will indeed become (somewhere in time and space) your bride. We will be one and right now we are one. I am not free, in that I am not independent, I do not wish to be.
Daddy, I love you, always, even when I think I can run away.

June 14th Journal Entry

I have been home for more than ten days. I stayed for Devon's funeral on Thursday and thought I would be moving on the river by now. On the 12th my next started to swell just a bit and I had an itch at the corner of my mouth. I asked Lorrie if she could see any swelling and she could not. During the night my face keep on itching and the itch spread. By 4am  on the 13th my face was bright red from my chin to my eye sockets. I walked to Counts Pharmacy in the morning and bought some diphenhydramine thinking that an antihistamine would help stifle my allergic reaction. No such luck.
That afternoon I walked to the pharmacy and purchased some calamine lotion to dry the weeping of my facial skin. My face had started to swell and my neck started to itch. The drying calamine lotion over the reddened skin marks me like an Australian bushman. That evening I could hardly read because of the irritation of my eyes.
Today the swelling has gone on growing in spite of two thorough face scrubbings and extra shower that I hoped would remove any allergens that had contaminated my hair.  Now, my throat has swollen and I am starting to worry that this skin irritation might be quite serious. Lorrie thinks I should see a doctor this evening, but I will try to hold off until morning.
The weather has been warm and dry and I wish I was back floating. Hey, daddy, I think I need help again.

May 24th Journal Entry

I spent Monday walking, sometimes in the rain, sometimes in the sun. I went to the library, to the U-Haul rental place and to the Dollar General store. Along the way I bought coffee and chocolate. What more could I want?
Today, i started up to the bank hoping to get some money so Lorrie could buy gasoline. I took a bag of aluminum can along for recycling. The heavens split on my way home from recycling. I had turned around and forgone the bank when the first drizzling started.  My, by the time I reached the library, running and dodging under trees and awnings, I was soaked. The temperature dropped ten degrees in less than an hour.
I made it home during a storm lull, jumping streams flowing against and over the sidewalks. Mikey came home after the rain and I got a ride to the bank. During the afternoon, the temperatures climbed above 80 degrees and dropped hard as two ominous clouds passed to the northeast. The storm top anvil was towering and building on one.
Sprinkling now and more rain coming. Good by, sleep well.

May 22nd Journal Entry

The sun shown all day Saturday. The weather was very warm, and not too humid. I talked and talked, first to Bess, then to Nun, with the mailman and with Eric. Lovely day, Thanks!
I strolled to the Lutheran Church in a light, variable breeze this morning. The wind was smooth on my face. Four people without being asked said, I should not be floating for a while. Two worried about flood waters overflowing the Mississippi Valley. One thought the thunderstorm warning with 2 and 3 inch hail should be keeping me at home.
I had a fine time singing and Pastor Steve said I should stay around a while. On the walk home I thought about all that these people had said and about similar remarks made by folks at the Farmers' Market yesterday. Seems you are telling me to wait. I'll hold on at home for another week.
Lots of rain this afternoon. One burst put an inch of water on the ground in less than 20 minutes. Lorrie brought chicken home and the across-the-street neighbors had a dispute going that involved the police. A not boring day.
Good night, Lord.

May 19th Journal Entry

A warm shower this morning, a dry blanket, and I feel better. But I also feel like a wimp. I had to come home, when I might have been able to wait out the rain for a few more days. I will be thinking about this. I don't want to quit. I want to go on. I will be going back with much less clothing, bedding and cooking gear. The eleven foot raft will have much less room. I will need to make changes in my cooking style, more aluminum foil, more fish, and lots of fruits. No cans, a pot for boilings, peanut butter, vitamins. No underwear bottoms, because I will be peeing while afloat.
Still, I need people. I talk with them, hug and share with them. Can you arrange this, dear? I know the journey is the right thing to do. A test of courage, a trial by fire, perhaps? I know this is right, but I have nothing to prove. You are with me no matter what. You will bless me with joy always, even when I starve and freeze, if my bed is afloat.
I will not know the reason until this journey ends, continues, ends. I will continue. I will end it later. I will think about this more.

March 18th Journal Entry

Wednesday, Again, I waited for the rain to stop. It took a lot of effort to get a fire started. Its good that I do not make large fires. I had to walk 1/4 mile to find a dead, still standing fir tree. I stripped dry bark slabs adn filled them with shredded inner bark. I used this to start the fire and make a small bed of coals. I called Jammie to ask for a ride home later. I can not stay out here and be this damp and cold. I will take my bedding home to dry it.
Gosh, I was cold last night on a wet futon mattress, under wet blankets. Even though I bundled up in a track warm-up suit, two pairs of socks and a sweater, I was cold.
I have walked all the trails in the State Park. I imagine that it really is time to leave here. Maybe by Saturday my raft will come. I'll launch from this dock are, cross the lake and then short portage around the dam. But it is more likely, I will exit the Interstate at exit 105 and launch from the Little River launch ramp. I will miss two miles of the lake, but I will not have to carry everything. Maybe Sunday or Monday if the raft comes from Jim Luckett by slow express.
Some sun! A mixed day now. I returned the red worms to the ground, packed all my things, wrapping everything in plastic as the rain began again.
Loaded up when Jammie came. She said I should stay in Wytheville until Lorrie's baby comes. Then I can be Auntie Dawn. I am not sure that is a good idea. I feel I should be letting Mikey and Lorrie have some space and a house for their own. I will go to check on assisted housing, but I don't expect much.
Good night, Daddy. Let me know if I am wrong.

May 17th Journal Entry

Woke up to rain. Waited till a bit past 5am to head over to the shower in the dark. The rain had slowed to a drizzle then. By the time I shaved my legs and face the rain was striking the ground hard. I hurried under the awning to the lavatory, brushed my teeth and took my pills. I am running low on estrodol. I will need to go to the pharmacy soon.
At 7am the rain slowed enough for me to return to my tent and to cook some oatmeal. At 8am another short break in the rain allowed me to ask when my check would be sent to the bank. I was told, tomorrow, so I should avoid more overdraft charges.
At 9;30 the rain paused. I walked down the Popular Leaf Trail at 10am. I found wild strawberries and scattered some seeds around. I flipped leaves over and found a dozen red worms in 5 times as many tries. Not bad.
I returned to my campsite and rearranged the draping of my rain-fly so the tent could air out. My mattress and blankets were when I came back to camp last night. I took the bamboo to the lake and soon caught three fish on the red worms, two bluegill and one pumpkin. I had to stop fishing in the middle to take cover from another short rain.
Back at camp, I used the last of my dry wood to cook the fish and another serving of oatmeal. It did not rain for an hour and a half. Having put the rain-fly back on properly, I rite this while listening to more rain splatter on the tent. There are two small leaks on thoroughly saturated seams, that keep on dripping water. I am damp and cold, Daddy. Could you give the sun a chance tomorrow?
Good night, dear.

May 16th Journal Entry

My laundry is dry and folded. I am reading and warming leftovers that have been in the refrigerator since last week. Packed all that I am taking back with me in black garbage bag. Curtis the cat immediately marked the bag saying "this is mine not yours." At least, he missed the clothes and only hit the outside of the plastic.
I cut flowers today and filled the vases, setting some in each room. Read some, answered my email and now wait for Jammie to take me back to the campground.  She got me back here at around 7pm. I put things away in time for another rain shower. Jammie had told me on the way back that the weatherman was predicting five more days of rain for this week.
Good night Lord.

May 16th Journal Entry

My laundry is dry and folded. I am reading and warming leftovers that have been in the refrigerator since last week. Packed all that I am taking back with me in black garbage bag. Curtis the cat immediately marked the bag saying "this is mine not yours." At least, he missed the clothes and only hit the outside of the plastic.
I cut flowers today and filled the vases, setting some in each room. Read some, answered my email and now wait for Jammie to take me back to the campground.  She got me back here at around 7pm. I put things away in time for another rain shower. Jammie had told me on the way back that the weatherman was predicting five more days of rain for this week.
Good night Lord.

May 15th Journal Entry

Rained so hard the day I left... All night long, everything is wet outside of these cloth walls. I walked to the shower house with tiny streams rolling beside me. Even more coming back. I will need to go back for grooming later, but I am hoping you'll show me a piece of blue sky first.
You did! I went to the docks and back. I am now sorting stuff. Some I will load onto the raft when it comes, the rest I will store in the house basement in Wytheville. Stopping that now because it is raining again. Found that several strings of my seeds ans seed pod jewelry had started to mold. Guess, I'll be using plastic and wood only on the rest of the trip.
The rain stopped just long enough to cook lunch. It took a lot of scurrying through the woods to find enough dry kindling, tipping rotting logs and rubbing sloughing bark. Twice gusting wind shook my sheltering oats to rain big droplets on the barely started fire. Poof and start over. But it did get done.
Jamie is coming to get me maybe? I have most of my equipment sorted, but I have had no text of call from her about when she can come here. Most of the time, today, I have had only one reception bar on my cellphone. Oh, well.
Jammie called at five and said she would be here at 6pm. I recon I can sleep on my memory foam mattress tonight. When she came I loaded two totes of clothes and papers into her pickup. There is also a bag of laundry. She told me that she had forgotten about getting me until after her second job. She told me that Lorrie and Mike were on their way home from Puerto Rico. They had an exciting trip.
We unloaded my stuff at the basement door and Jammie said she could not come in. I dried the white quilt which had bee dripped on and started doing my laundry. I fried sliced potatoes for supper.
Mike and Lorrie made it home at 9pm. They were tired, from too many activities and had not rested on the cruise. Still, they were sun-kissed. They went right to bed, they must work on Monday.
Night, daddy.

May 14th Journal Entry

Saturday, May 14th. Woke up before 10 pm as three motorbikes pulled up in site C-12. I promised the three me dry wood from my tent in the morning as it was raining hard. Came back to bed.
Up at 4am, reading by lantern light (electric battery of course), until the sun made gray in the sky. I built a fire for my neighbors when I heard them begin to stir. A three snore so it was easy to tell.
John Hodd and a co-worker came my with a pickup at 7am. We drove down to the docks to load the canoes. John decided he would need to separate the hulls to load them. He will bring tools tomorrow.
I hitched a ride to Walmart with them bought some fruit and condensed milk. Then walked to the Interstate ramp to hitchhike back. I came back to camp just as the three motor bikers were leaving. We waved to each other and I started unpacking my loot. As I approached my picnic table, i noticed that the bikers had left me an egg, some gummy bears and a baggy of granola bars. I really appreciate their gifts.
I scrambled the egg, sliced in green pepper and had my breakfast. I walked down after to the docks to fish. I bought 20 night crawlers and used one to catch some sunfish. I then emptied the container on some fallen oak leaves on my way back to camp. I trust you will multiply this start and have night crawlers all over the park in two years. This ground could use more aeration to control run-off with all this rain.
I climbed up the hill with my pole and the fish swinging behind me. I was going to cook the fish immediately, but I had to wait for another rain to pass by. The fish were still delicious after a half hour wait.
Don and Marion are going to visit cousins this evening and say they will bring me more oatmeal when they come home. They did. I had just buttoned up the tent, putting everything undercover except firewood. You did not let any of it get  un-damp today. The moon is hiding tonight behind more rain clouds. It is pouring rain.
I have kept a bed of coals going with wood stacked over them, so some could dry. If it rains this hard much longer there will be no dry wood in the morning. Well, it will tamp down the fire index and lets the park sell bundles of banded firewood. It will also give those night crawlers a chance to settle in.
Blessings, dear, and good night. Reading then I will snuggle down.

May 13th, Friday Journal Entry.

Good morning, dear. It is shortly after 6am. I am clean and I have a soup can to heat water in. It did not rain much last night against my expectations. High humidity and warm, the sky still rumbles.
The park staff will be arriving soon. I have one night neighbors, Don and Jennifer from Massachusetts on their way home from Florida. I made them a small fire this morning but let it go out after it had dried them some wood for later. If they want a fire, they may lay some tinder and have near instant coziness.
My friend the woodpecker i, he is large and mostly black, is tatting away. The raven caw and a bird I cannot see kerloos. . Less humid today than yesterday.
I let Don know how to restart their fire when they got up, but Don said they were going to leave quickly. Harrisburg is not far but they are meeting friends there. When they come back from the showers I will give them direction if they need them.
Another bird has shouted Karroo and squirrels have started their morning barking. The sound like tiny teacup Chihuahuas. A dark backed, cream breasted, red headed flicker, woodpecker, is climbing tree after tree from bottom to top. I thought the doe might pass by this morning. She hasn't.
Told tales to Don and Jennifer before they left. Jennifer told me that Cape Cod is becoming a LGBT mecca. I'll check as I pass by.  The park staff are coming in. They turn for the employee only area.
Going for a walk down the Lake Trail, back soon. Walked that way and started back on the Popular Leaf Trail, which passed a burn from last year. I turned off onto the Bent Tree Trail. Did a few feet on the ground pull-ups, beginner's level and then rejoined the Popular Leaf Trail to come back to C-11. A nice walk. Met a rust colored, but brighter, three inch long lizard. He looked to have a tiny black beak, but it may have been a half-swallowed beetle. I did not pick him up to find out. I did not want to risk hurting him. I'll wander over and down to the visitors' center in an hour to discover his name and lineage.
Jon Hodd will be by at 7am tomorrow to pick up the canoes. Maybe I can get a ride from him on Monday into Wytheville?
I have been paddling, exploring in long skirts. When they get wet, I have a time getting into and out of the boats. I trap the material under my knees. I pull it up but then the scars and scuffs on my legs would show. Shame, thy name is woman.
I had a bit of dead bird on a hook tied to my 25 foot long bamboo. This morning a Green Sunfish was on the hook. She was excellent for lunch. Plopped her right down on the gum wood coals. Flipped her over when hear tail fin  curled. Just a hair longer on the other side. Scales and skin stay on the coals and I used a fork to flake sweet white flesh from the bones. After lunch I took some of her entrails (That's how I know it was a she)put them on hooks and walked down to the docks to try catching another fish. I've walked five miles today. I'll have over seven before evening.
I could use the extra meal as I am running low on food again. One serving of oatmeal, several bananas, two apples and one pound of easy melt cheese will last until Monday.  State Park rules forbid the harvesting of any kind of plant or animal except fish. So fishes beware I will catch you.
Another flicker with a long beak flew up. He is gray breasted, yellow-cream on the belly with brown on the back and head. He looked me over and inspected the tree that the black woodpecker likes. He flew off for other parts.
I searched through by purse and found 22 dollars that I did not know I had. I am flush! If I get a ride to town tomorrow I can buy more oatmeal and some canned vegetables. I can also pay for another day here. My SS check should deposit so I will be able to stay until my rubber raft arrives. Kim or Mikey can take my extra clothing and equipment back to Wytheville. I'll go on without another break in the journey.
I wonder if I can find a church service somewhere close? I'll ask at the visitors' center. Feeling anxious about still being here, even though I am in no hurry. How dumb is that, daddy? I guess it comes from having appointments to keep all my working life. I'll try to relax. Maybe, its because I discovered money? Poisonous, insidious money.
Tons of people will be here on Saturday. Because today is Friday, the thirteenth, not many campers are arriving. Well, here come more rain. Going inside my tent. Bye, daddy.

May 12th Journal Entry.

Good morning! I listened for the rain to stop for a couple of hours. I doze under my blankets and then wake up to more thunder and lightening. The storm has passed or is at least in temporary remission so I am hurrying down to my morning toilet. Back.
There is no dry wood in the neighborhood so I'll happily munch a banana and an apple for breakfast. I left the Dean Koontz book I had finished on the picnic table last evening. It is drying inside the tent along with me. A woodpecker is finding grubs with a ta-ta-ta-ta-tak. We will be breaking fast together. By the way, the camp hosts are the Youngs, not the Williams. I misremembered. Don and Marion Young.
I covered the picnic bench with a plastic bag, made a brunch of oatmeal and decided to head for the docks. I have been reading and listening to rain for a few more hours.
I paddled over to the rental cabin docks and tried to sail back. Not good. I need a daggerboard according to a photographer, who once sailed his own 20 foot boat. We talked about fetch and other things that I had to ask explanation for and why.
I came up to the campsite at 1:30 and ate more oatmeal. I'll be going back down with a plastic tote lid for a daggerboard. I must find a way to seal the front edge of the folded pain cloth I use for my sail. Maybe I can find some tape for that? The opening fills and acts like a brake.
Got the daggerboard in place, but did not seal the front edge of the sail. Did bail out the boats with an empty plastic pop bottle. Set a bit of dead baby bird on a hook and left the bamboo pole and line in the water. Maybe a fish come morning?
I put two of the gum log pieces that don't burn well on top of my little oak oatmeal fire. i am cooking now with a can I recycled from the dumpster near the dock. The logs may smolder all night so there will be coals at 4am. Just in case this doesn't work, I put dry twigs in the tent. Once again I can see more rain coming. Tonight I'll bring in my still damp running shoes and two skirts. I hope not to leave any books outside.
Wind is gusting, thunder rubbing against the hills. Time to pick up. Kim called today, during her lunch break. She is working at Gatorade. Her wife (girlfriend?), passed out this week and the hospital doctors suspect multiple brain lesions. Not a fun report. Please get to fixing, sir.
One of the neat, but annoying things about living in the forest, dear, is the leaves and creatures that land in my water cup. Just heard a roar from the sky, like a male lion announcing his intent to defend the pride. All is undercover, two gum logs are wedged together.
I went back out and put another gum log on the other two, that may last. Saw a doe moving through the forest. She stopped to look at me before deciding I was not a threat. She slipped slowly until she disappeared into the brush. It is time for the does to drop their fawns. The does leave each other in the way of Whitetails and now travel solitary. I hope she does well.
I noticed that the campground sign map is a mirror of what it should be. The D campground is shown to the north instead of the south. The marked trails shown going in the wrong directions. Walked a little as the wind builds. Mosquitoes found me in every wind shelter. I am smorgasbord. I will go back in the tent now. Some of them are as fat as I am.
Good night, Father.

May 11 Journal Entry

Rumi, the poet, calls you Beloved and i call you father or daddy. Both of us know your love and how you always come to find us when we hide in sorrow or pride. I used the present tense for both of us and you know why.
Watched the park employees driving out of the maintenance area on their way home last night. Lots of waving to each one. Two days here and I spread a bit of joy. Thank you daddy for the day, for friends, for dry kindling, for oatmeal and a can to cook it in, for being our beloved.
Took off for Dublin and found myself at a little convenience store just outside the park entrance. I waited for30 minutes until it opened. Discovered that they carried only cakes, cookies, candy and beer. Not exactly a good diet.
I walked up the next hill, passing a dead possum and a sign announcing Lupine Lane. Just over the rise I came to the junction with Dunkard's Road. I always read drunkards first when I see the word on a map. That road runs down to a hollow that was originally named Dunker's Hollow. Oh, the things you can learn by reading tourist bulletins.
I had just crossed the road when two pickups passed me by and then a woman coming from the other direction stopped. She asked where i was going, turned around and gave me a ride into Dublin. She took me right to the Walmart store by the back roads instead of the Interstate, so I would know the way to walk and hitchhike back.
I purchased some fruit and cheese, a pound of marked down hamburger and walked out the door. Surprise, there was the lady, whose name was Janet. Bless her, father. She teaches health as a professor at Johnston College in the Roanoke area. She gave me a ride all the way back to the park entrance.
I had a breakfast of hamburger patties, the whole pound. I was on my way to the dock to rig a mast and sail by 11am. The fire wood had taken some convincing to burn, mainly because of last night's hail and rainstorm. By 3pm I had a rig in place. The boats were bailed out, but I lost my oatmeal cooking/bailing can right at the end. It slipped from my fingers and sank. The water is 8 feet deep at the docks so I did not strip down to go fetch it. Much to public also.
It looked like another storm was building, so I set the sail in line with the length of the boats, tied it well and walked home, to my campsite. Last night before sleeping I called Jim Luckett of Instant Sailboat and arranged for an inflatable to be shipped after my Social Security check comes. i am getting a slightly used, slightly larger, but well patched 11 foot raft with stout oars. He will send a sail kit for it when I reach Bluestone Lake in West Virginia.
Resting now after gathering more dead-fall wood for the morning fire. I hope this wood burns hot enough to dry the gumwood the park folk brought me. The camp hosts for this section pulled in today. i thought they were trying to take a huge camper trailer down a very narrow roadway and hurried to stop them. But they were only setting to pull into the host site right by the shower house.
They have been hosts at this location for the past ten years. The Williams couple live in Rhode Island and she is a non-Hodgkin's cancer survivor. I will be talking more with them.
Life is good. Calling some of my kids tonight. Kay sent me a picture of the snow-covered street in front of her house.  Snow in Wyoming and thunderstorm in Virginia. Bye Jesus, night Daddy.

May 10th Journal Entry

It is Tuesday and I have no idea where one day disappeared. My phone calendar claims Tuesday should be the 10th of May. Good morning Lord. The day promises to be filled with adventure. Dew on the ground and chocolate bar wrapping paper spread under and around the picnic table. here at site C-11 the blackbirds and ravens like chocolate. They pecked into my plastic bag and took out my one and only candy bar. They ate it without a thank you or a by your leave. They did not even clean up the wrappings.
I picked up and started my fire with the wrapping for fire starter. I cooked up a can of oatmeal. I suppose I need to walk to a store in Dublin later. The map shows it to be just shy of 4 miles. The hike will firm my thighs and help me to grow curvy and svelte.
I found a Geo-treasure capsule stashed in a tree that has three joining trucks next to this site. I added a cigarette lighter and a note about this journey. Walked to the visitors' center and then back here to do laundry in the shower. Step and stomp while shampooing my hair and I have a double use of the soap and water. My cable knit sweater is drying on the table, properly blocked at site C-12.  I chose this site for its shade, rain and wind shelter. That one has sunshine and a breeze.
I could go down to the lake as there is a breeze and I could try sailing, but I would rather walk into town. No, I think I will wait until morning. Trees need to be stripped of squaw wood for fire tinder. There appears to be another storm coming.
I have been picking up mostly dry branches and breaking dry dead ones off of trees. I wandered over to campground A, no one is at B. A is closed but the hosts Don and Lynne Carpenter are in site A-1. They have been in retirement for two whole weeks.
They have four children and seven grandchildren, with another due in June. Lynne leave in the morning for the Carolinas to pick up two of her grandchildren. The youngsters are 8 and 4. Don worked for the Navy and is a military brat grown after being in eleven schools in twelve years.
As I flipped my drying sweater over on the C-1 table some of the conservation workers came to cut down a dead and leaning tree a short distance away. I asked if I could pick up some of the dead branches after the tree fell. In a short while they brought over some logs cut to firewood size. We talked about the troubles in Africa.
I pointed out that the people there were like our pioneers with automatic weapons, and that we were not civilized enough ourselves to criticize their actions. I said that only a hundred years ago here bride price  in the form of a dowry was common. Henry, my son-in-law's, grandfather offered me hundreds of goats when Henry proposed to Heather. We should be patient and not upset and angry when we don't see life the same way. it is not our place to judge others by our standards.
I have enough oatmeal for today and the morning, so I will have to walk to a store in the morning after the rain. Most of the clothes I washed have dried, so it is time to fold them. Maybe when I get back from Dublin, I can go sailing. But right now, I will get the kindling, wood and my books under cover. The sky is rumbling as if it had eaten a plateful of garlic sauce. I will go over to the shower house for a jug of fresh water and call it a day. Thank you, Daddy.

March 8th Journal Entry

up at 6am. Ate some corn chips for breakfast as that was all i had in the tent. Drank the last of my water and began loading. I watched the Blue Devil's racing crew stroke by on their skull. I launched and immediately made for the far side of the river. There was no wind and lots of near water mist.
The lake is 3/4 of a mile wide here. On the far bank the water was covered with a fine yellow pollen that shimmered in the sunlight. No current fought  my progress and I passed cliffs high enough to climb and dive. They were posted with signs saying don't.
By 8am I passed the first State owned boating docks fronting rental cabins. I had come to the State Park. I went ashore and walked over to a Mr. and Mrs. Miner who were fishing from one of the docks. There were other people walking by on groomed  paths. The Miners were staying in one of the rental cabins as a Christmas present from their children.
As they fed the fish worm on hooks, not on plates, Mrs. Minor told me that they farmed up by Bluefield, West Virginia. She told me how to find the marina so off I went. i paddled around a swimming beach, then passed some more housing and turned left into the marina. I parked my boats at an empty slip and began walking toward the boat ramp.
There I spoke with a long skinny policeman, who thinks his job is great.  he told me how to get to the visitors' center so i could check in. I paid for seven nights here and Kelly the office manager ranger told me I could leave my boats in slip B 16. At this time of year each night in the primitive campground costs $21. I paid with my card, expecting to be charged and overdraft fee by my bank.
There was a Yard Master wheelbarrow at the top of the boat ramp. People use it to take their possessions from their cars to their boats down on the docks. I loaded part of my stuff onto it and pulled it uphill, of course, to the campground. It is only 3/4th of a mile, but it is a hard pull up a steep hill. I made three trips and was dreading making more when the thin patrolman was called down to the dock to turn on the gas pump for a stranded boater. He said he would find me some help.
I unloaded the cart in the parking lot and filled it again with the last load. i had just returned to the first pile when two conservation workers pulled up in their pickup truck. We loaded up and in ten minutes unloaded everything at my campsite. We talked for a few minutes about my trip. As they left, I began putting things away. At 3:30pm I had moved in.
Tired, but happy, I found clean clothes, a musty towel and shampoo. Off I went to the showers. There is wonderful hot water, daddy. In less than five seconds, hot water is coming out of the shower head. This is neat.
After, I washed the towel and my dirty clothes in the slop sink in back of the shower house. They are hanging on the bushes and trees drying now. I cooked two cans of oatmeal, wrote this and am ready for bed. I am the only camper in this section of the campground. 8pm, no rain. Good night. 

May 7th Journal Entry

As I turned in last night I went out again to the boat dock. I untied and moved the canoes under the dining area overhang that shelters the boat fueling pumps. I tied up again as the storm broke. Only one boat will fill with water this way. I was damp going to bed but most of my equipment stayed dry.
At 4am I crawled out of bed and started putting everything in the tent under the overhang. I had promised  the cashier that I would be on my way by 6am. I took down my tent and folded it under the same protection. The rain kept falling until 8am.
I untied the boats and dragged them up onto the shore so I could bail them out. A gentleman named John Hodd came under the awning to fish and I mentioned that I would be giving these boats away to children after I learned to said on Claytor Lake. Donnie Turner had told me that I could not make it across the next set of rapids with them.
John offered to buy them for his 16 year old, but I insisted on giving them away. We compromised with him buying me a sandwich and coffee for breakfast. I will call him in about a week and he will come to get the boats at Claytor Lake State Park. He helped me launch and continued fishing as I paddled away under the bridge.
Passed a few osprey which I did not know lived in this area and a set of people fishing beside a van. i tried to stay on the right hand side of the river as it had looked the shortest way on my map. At lunchtime, the sun had come out and I entered a cove fed by two very slow moving creeks. I tied off and sat on the bank eating two handfuls of corn chips. I talked briefly to two ladies in their bass boat who had entered the cove to fish. They told me that the State Park was still four miles ahead.
The wind came up, pushing me away from the right bank. As I struggled to get closer, i noticed that the debris on the water was actually moving upstream. A return current had started because of the recent flood waters entering the lake. I was fighting against wind and current.
So i let the wind push me away from the bank and out of the current. Using the kayak paddle I stroked mightily. The action made drips fall inside the center hull and I bailed once each hour with my trusty, oatmeal cooking,  corn can. Flattened at the lip it makes a good bailer.
Unfortunately, whenever I stopped to bail the reverse current, now forty feet wide, took me upstream, not far but enough to show I was still meeting resistance. I moved back against the shoreline and tried to stay sheltered by boat docks, ramps and rock ledges as I paddled downstream.
At last, my shoulder cried, "that's enough." I happened to be between two yard in an area that appeared to be forest and untended. I pulled in and set the stern of the boat up on a few small floating logs. They sank under the weight to the bottom and gave me a stepping platform to unload my equipment.
I set up camp on a road bed that had grown up with vegetation. My bedding was wet from the water I had dripped into the boats while paddling and from the wakes of passing motor boats. These wakes had rocked me all day. It was early  so I hung my bedding on trees to dry and tied the boats so they faced into the river. I hoped all the wake waves would pass under the bows and that the logs under the stern would dampen the slap of the waves on shore.
I went to bed while the sun was setting, reading "Cold Fire" by Dean Koontz. As I lay there the earth beneath my back kept rocking as the boats had done that day.  Good night, daddy.

May 6th Journal Entry

I packed up my tent and gear, laying damp clothing on top of the stowed cargo. Then I ate two apples for breakfast and started. Just after untying i spoke with a gentleman who has been fishing this river since the sixties. That's fifty years on the same waters. He told me which tiny fish, bream, could be caught and then used for bait to catch the bigger catfish. He would be taking his fishing boat downstream to the Lowman Ferry Road bridge. He was going to fish in the shallow water next to the deep channels for blue catfish.
We wished each other your blessings and then I crossed the river on a bend to stay in the main currents. The river is slowing as it nears the body of the lake. I found a 25 foot long bamboo floating near the shore where a small creek entered the river. I paddled and cut away at the tiny branches until I had a long green pole. Maybe it can be a fishing pole?
Made good time until the wind began to blow in my face. I crossed under the Hiwassee railroad trestle, which is part of the New River Trail State Park. This is where the trail leaves the river and heads toward Pulaski.
By the time I could see the Lowman Ferry bridge, both white and rust dark, in the distance my arms were sore and my right shoulder ached. I slowed down and drifted by the largest house I had seen on the river. So much glass looked out across the water, I bet it is dazzling in the morning light. The man mowing the huge yard said a large thunder storm was coming. I double stroked with the kayak paddle until I came to the boat landing at the Shop-Ez store where State Road 672 crosses the New River. I tied up and went in to ask where I could camp.
I bought a hamburger and went to the back of the store where a dining area looks out over the river. Lo and behold, there was Jim, the eighty year old gentleman who had given me a much needed ride on Thursday. He and his friend, a Mr. Williams, who had grown up with him, were working out a scramble puzzle. Jim was trying to convince Mr. Williams that the answer was a pun using furlong instead of "for long."
I went back to the cash register to ask permission to camp there as Jim said there was no other place for more than two miles ahead. The young clerk, an eagle scout, gave me permission and so i set up camp just as it was darkening to night.
Jim came out of the store and sat in his pickup, talking a while before going to see his girlfriend. Every once in a while he would load the sling shot he had made from a maple branch with a sinker and try to shot a blackbird. He never came close to hitting it, not even close enough to frighten it.
I went up to the store at 9:30 to use the ladies' room and at 10pm the skies cracked open like they were draining your bathtub. I wind blew rain under the vent and it leaked right above this notebook lying on the floor. That's why the pages have curled over. Put on my Coaltown Dixie shirt and went to sleep.

May 5th Journal Entry

In the afternoon I rented a car from Enterprise and drove Alexa to the Bland Clinic. I spent the morning getting warm while Lorrie and Mikey were at work. I rented the car because my friend Kim who had promised to come fetch me yesterday, was not answering her phone then or today.
Alexa was having her blood tested and also needed to have a regular prescription for hormones and blockers. She has been self-medicating for two years. She has been presenting as a woman for five years.
Alexa is a very brave soul, she has been doing everything necessary toward surgery since she turned 14. She has been adamant and out in a town so rural it is named Rural Retreat. She has face down bigots and made friends. Strangely, she has never learned how to drive. She tells me here mother drives too fast and scary. He father in his seventies does not pay enough attention to the road.
The Enterprise folk gave me a ride back to Allisonia when i turned in the car. I put the tent up in the "no camping area," after checking with a lawn mowing neighbor just downstream.  Good night, Father.

May 4th Journal Entry

Up early, showered again as I may not get warm water for sometime. Oatmeal and an apple for breakfast. It took a long time to get the fire started as all the wood was soaked by last night's hard rain. I was slightly ready for it, so my clothes were dry inside Mr. Turner's tepee.
I bailed the rain water from the boats. The bolts and 2 by 4's held up well in the wind and the rising water. I packed bedding, clothing, books and rope into the sterilite boxes and put these into the boats. Using some of the leftover 2 by 4's, I levered the boats from the ramp into a full float.
At 9am Donnie and his friends came down to fall a tree that had been mostly uprooted by last week's tornado and the high flood waters. 70 or 80 feet of old white maple. It was a sorry cutting up of so great a forest beast. I used the toilet and wrote a check for my rent to Mr. Turner and then returned to my boats to resume my journey.
I traveled quickly as the river dropped down class 1 and 2 rapids. It was not hard to glide between sandbars and islands. The closer arrangement of the hulls was easier to steer. I could stand up because of the stability of this narrow trimaran, so seeing which line to take through the rapids was easy.
The wind came up at 1pm and slowed my forward motion to a crawl. Nasty looking clouds, like just healing bruises, started blocking the sun. A real pisser of a storm was building. I went ashore on a sandy bank and tied my boats to a tree about fifteen feet uphill. The map told me that this was Allisonia. I knocked on doors along the street and on the street behind. I was seeking permission to set up my tent on the beach, but the whole little town appeared to be somewhere else that afternoon.
I walked back to the boats and found that I had tied to a tree on posted land. There was a sign on the chain link boundary that could be read only from the street side. I untied, pushed off, and poled along the shoreline fighting against the freshening wind. In 3/4 of a mile I came to a public boat ramp. Thank you, father.
There were signs prohibiting camping, but I tied up to a tree anyway. As I turned away the eye-bolt that held the rope to the bow of the trimaran tore loose from the thin plywood bow plate. The rope on the tree was not holding the boats anymore and they were leaving with my clothes, my purse and everything else. I waded into the water and caught a hull just as the water reached my armpits.
leaning back against the current I hauled the boats back to the boat ramp and ran the line back through the plywood in the hole left by the departing eye-bolt. Dragging the boat sideways through the water let water flow over the side of one hull and my clothing was wet again.  I had no dry clothing to put on.
So I rung out my socks, put on dry tennis shoes, picked up my tent, and one blanket.  I shouldered my purse and started walking towards home. Only 33 miles to go, i hoped to find a campsite or to thumb a ride.
Cars passed, many cars passed, but none stopped. No one was home at the houses I approached seeking permission to camp in a backyard. After I had gone 1 and 1/2 miles I stashed my tent and blanket and placed my hopes on getting a ride. I walked to the Hiwassee Post Office and asked the Postmistress the distance to Interstate 81. She said I would need to go 4 miles to the Lowman
Ferry Road and then five more miles along it to the interstate. Thanking her, I walked, putting out my thumb and walking backwards when ever a car passed my way.
I had walked 9 miles from Allisonia when an 80 year old gentleman stopped and gave me a ride into Pulaski. He let me off at the Hardee's restaurant. I ordered a sandwich, fries and a small drink. Then I called Mikey. For the first time since I left the river water, I had a phone dry enough to work. Mikey promised to come and get me. After an hour I warmed up enough to start shivering. I had gotten cold enough to stop shivering at mile five. Very, very cold, dear.

May 3rd Journal Entry

Donne came down from his house on the hill at about 8;30 last night. He had been to town to get additional radiation treatments for prostrate cancer. He said that he was to see his doctor today to learn if the radicals had been killed by the whole body burns. I hope so.
I got the boats finished and hooked back together. I used short pieces of 2 by 4's that I cut off of the 14 foot spans I had used when I first started out. I used the left overs as skids and levers to move the whole unit to the water. I started loading stuff up when the wind began to gust. I stopped work and made some oatmeal and onions for lunch.
One of the guides, I met at Foster Falls, stopped with two gentlemen that he was taking fishing. They ate lunch and were careful to go behind the trees to pee. I am sure they would not have been so private, if I had not been nearby.
At 1pm I started to worry about Donnie who had said he might stop by at about noon. I worried that he had not got good news from his doctor. Something large made a commotion in the water to my left, likely a large catfish. The wind was strong and steady. A storm was winding through the mountains and would arrive soon.
I like this river. I will be on Claytor Lake sometime tomorrow. I hope Lorrie and Mikey can come to get my tools and fiberglass cloth so I don't have to carry that extra 100 pound load. I could empty that 18 gallon plastic storage box and fill it with clothes to keep them dry.
A male flying ant landed on this page a moment ago. He rested a while until the wind hurried him along his journey to mate or die. I don't think ants know that we will all lose everything than even ourselves in death. I believe death must always surprise them.
Donnie came down and we dumped a round hay bale out of his pickup. Then we went up to his boat shed. He will hold on to my kayak and he gave me a life jacket to use on this journey. He had not been to the doctor's yet.
Ate pineapple for a snack and decided to dig up more wild onion for supper. I would walk through the forest looking for mushrooms, but there is much stinging and naked nettle in there. Found pink toadstools on a downed tree, so I will drop them in the pot. Should make good soup.
The flavor was good, but the toadstools stayed woody. I could not chew enough to soften them. Maybe when i have a larger can, I'll try cooking the same kind again. Still the juice was good and the onions tasty.
Heard the boats being scraped by something while I was eating so I will see if there has been any damage. I'll be starting early in the morning. One way or another I would like to travel a spell.
A turkey hen walked by and then flew across the river. She mostly glided across with the help of the wind. The two hawks that live on top of the big rock column perked up and looked over the edge. She went right into the brush on the other side so the hawks missed dinner.
The black butterflies that were down drinking on the mud are leaving now. The green of the water reminds me of the Green River in Wyoming and makes me a little homesick. Wonderful day, Daddy. A shower and good night.

May 2nd Journal Entry

Good evening, dear. I woke at 4am and could not get back to sleep. The cot in this tepee sags in the wrong places for this body. So I got up passably stiff. Went over to the bathhouse for another shower, my I love hot water! I cook oatmeal for breakfast.
I sanded and glassed the damaged boat until I had to stop for the resin on the tools to harden. The resin gets sticky and hard to work with. But if I let everything harden some more, I can break the resin from the tools and start up again.
At 8am I picked up the double canoe paddle and my not adequate life jacket and walked up the hill to the Wiser Highway. I walked a mile west to the ramp where the two other canoes were waiting. The one already repaired and the one needing repairs were just a bit further from the water. The river was still going down from flood.
I pushed and rocked each boat until they were partially afloat and mostly free of the mud. I loaded the 2 by 4's in the leaking boat and put myself in the other. I started downstream with the leakier tied behind the repaired canoe.
I tried to stay to the left of the main current, but the flood waters had deposited a half mile of sandbars just beneath the surface. I turned around when I could go no further and paddled upstream to my starting point. I turned into the main current and made good speed around the bars.
I discovered that my knees and back could have used more frequent exercise during my wait to be cleared of cancer. Ouch! Paddled away until I rounded the bend heading north in the current. Then I started angling back to the left bank where the water was slower. The sun shown fiercely in my eyes and I could barely see the rock wall off to the right.
Thinking It might already be the rock pillar that rises out of the river from my campsite, I rounded a snag which had settled as the water receded from flood. Maybe that very tree had punched the holes in my boats?
I tied the boats to its roots and then plowed the bow of my boat into the sloping sand and mud bank. I climbed over the front of the boat holding on to its bow tie rope. I slipped and fell right on my butt, making a mess of my skirt.
Anyway, I tied the boats, climbed the bank and walked downstream until I found the campground a half mile further along. I walked back and climbed back into the boat. Pushed off and paddled to where I needed to be. I pulled the boat up the ramp then up onto the grass. I turned them over, bottom up to the sun so the mud could dry.
I went up to the tent, got a clean skirt and a towel and had my second shower of the day. Washed the muddy skirt too. At 11 the boats were dry enough to start work of the leaker. I glassed it and began pinning it with 2 by 4's to the already repaired boat which had been so badly damaged. Kept on glassing the other boat, alternating between the tasks. At 4:30, I stopped for the day read Dean Koontz's "Winter Moon," made dinner. I now write in the tail of the day.
It was a lovely fine day, Daddy.. Bye.

May 1st Journal Entry

Woke up to rain again. Hoping for sunshine, at least a bit, later. I have most everything packed up and ready to load when the last two boats are repaired and sealed.
Lorrie and Mikey are still asleep. They will get me to the river this afternoon, I hope. I have to walk uptown to pay the phone bill before I go. Big thunder!! I am going to put gasoline in the Jeep before they wake up. Back soon.
At 3PM I started loading the Jeep with my clothes, tools and bedding. Lorrie and Mikey have been out since noon. When all is packed aboard and the repaired hull and paddles tied on top , we set out for the river. We dropped the repaired hull closer to the now not so flooded river bank. Mikey and I had to carry the boat forty  feet to put it at the edge of the water. Mikey took on step too far, sank in the mud and almost lost his cross trainers. He leaned back over the boat to stop his sinking and gradually pulled his feet free. He walked back to solid ground by staying inside the canoe.
We then carried the next least damaged boat to the water. Tomorrow I will sit in the repaired boat and pull the leaky one behind me to Donnie Turner's "Blue Cat on the New" launch ramp. I will then bring both canoes ashore.
We tied the most damage boat on top of the Jeep and hauled it down to Mr Turner's camp ground. We unloaded everything else. I hugged Lorrie goodbye. (She hugged first) Made my day!
Put a camp together, and ate white corn from a can and oatmeal cooked in the empty can. I started working on the leaking boat seams. Donnie came by and unloaded a family who had been on the river today. I offered to help . but Donnie said it was his job.
I went back to sanding the sides of the split seams. Donnie came over still worried about my adventure. I told him that an inflatable raft was coming and he was pleased. He said my little canoes would not survive the ledge and falls beyond Radford. I am sure the inflatable will be here by then. Seems all the river folk are sure my makeshift trimaran will break apart on the the class 3 and 4 rapids there.
I know these can survive a 3, but never a 4. I wouldn't run a 4 in an open canoe anyway. I'll look at one of Donnie's oared float boats tomorrow. I may change my order with the raft supplier.
Meanwhile, I will patch up these hulls and move on to lake as soon as I can. The end of the day is near, night is falling, the breeze is gentle, puffy and intermitant. I'll stop writing and go over to the showerhouse to clean up.
Good night, Father.

April 17th Journal Entry

Daddy, it is Sunday afternoon and I did a pile of sanding on the most damaged boat. I took Lorrie's Jeep and went to where I pulled the boats up with the visiting girls yesterday. I found all three boats partially afloat. The river rose another two feet last night. I arrived at 10:45AM and pulled them back ashore. I moved two hulls to higher ground and moved the 2 by 4's as well. All of them were floating in mostly submerged grass and stinging nettles. I lost one, but 10 2 by 4's were saved.
I loaded the last hull on top of the Jeep, tied it down and came home. If I had not gotten to the river this morning, I would have had everything washed away. The tree where I first tied the whole unit, is more than 30 feet out in the river and the water is still rising after yesterday's flood warnings. It will have to come up an additional 3 feet to endanger the boats again. I pulled the boats a fair distance up hill.
I got the boat that had been ripped along its bottom home at 11:45AM. Looks like a long branch still attached to an uprooted tree poked through the plywood and then twisted to rip the bottom away from the sides of the boat.
I sanded for two hours and it was a chore. Part of the paint was gummy. There must have been an adverse reaction between the resin and the paint, or I may not have used enough catalyst in one batch of resin as I finished the last hull. Anyway, it gummed up a stack of sandpaper sheets. I'll finish tomorrow.
Thanks for getting me to the river in time.

April 16th journal Entry

Daddy, Saturday afternoon was wonderfully bright. The temperature bright, the breezes bright, The misty humidity all blown away. I borrowed Robin's car and took tools down to the boats. The water had come up six more feet. The river is muddy, foaming and terribly swift.
My boats have damage. There are leaks, holes have been punched by floating tree limbs. There is a rip six feet long in the bottom the middle hull. I will need to reassess this type of boat. I took the 2 by 4's off of the three boats while five women drove down from the highway to watch me work. They watched for a half hour while the wind played with my skirt and loose blouse every time I bent over or crawled across the wood.
Three of them, Tracy, Sheila and Barb helped me pull the three now single boats further away from the river. We could not have moved the unit hooked together. Tracy liked to use her muscles, but she quickly suggested tipping each boat to empty the heavy water. We got the job done and I put the tools away in the car. I thanked them for their help and showed Sheila how I used fiberglass cloth to join the plywood panels.
They drove up the hill and away. I came behind, about two minutes later having searched in my purse for my keys. I almost caught up with them in the six miles back to the Interstate, but misjudged which way they had turned on I-81. I had had some idea of taking them all home with me.
Now it is Sunday morning, I hope to get back to the boats to begin repairs. It will take some time. Going to make ablutions, bye, Dawn.

Saturday morning back on land-waiting for bio report

Rainy Saturday morning, blustery, with a very Pacific rainforest feel. Not a good day for fiberglassing boat repairs. Humidity is way too high and the temperature will drop down too low for a good resin set.
Daddy, you seem to be engaging in delaying my journey. This and that flowed together well in the design and building process. Every slow down or stop leading to another project that needed doing. There was no real delay, just temporary adjornments. Now, even the cats seem intent on slowing things down. Ernie insists on being petted and held. My lap and this notebook have become a regular feline paradise. Could you maybe give me a heads up about what is coming next? Not a vision, because you know how those frighten me.
Had offers to use two cars today to go out and bring back the damaged boats. I thought I should get up early. I did and discovered that Tom Bombadillo's Goldberry had begun her Spring washing of the world. No money for gasoline, so it all works together to make me sit quietly petting. Best get back to doing it before Ernie gnaws my hand off.
 Love, Dawn.

April 6th Journal Entry

This is not really a journal entry. It is an update. I woke up Wednesday, April 6th, in a tepee. I woke up with a higher fever and with a once more burning bladder. I was not in good shape.
Donnie Turner had come down to the campground at about 8PM and we had talked about my journey and he had expressed great concern about the safety of my boats and the inadequacy of my life jacket. He said I could get a good jacket from his stock in the morning. During the night it rained, rained and rained some more. Expecting the rain I had gathered kindling and kept it safe and dry inside the tepee. In the dark before the grey of dawn, I started a small fire and cooked oatmeal in an empty vegetable can. I then showered, changed clothes and started walking back to my canoes along State Highway 100.
When I came to the boat landing, I discovered that each of my boat hulls had filled with 7 inches of water. That was a big rain storm. My clothing and several dry bags had become soaked. I took half of my clothes and packed them in a canvas tool bag. I walked back up to the highway and up the road a piece to a church. I went in to ask which direction I should take to the nearest town with a laundromat. I was told to go back past the boat dock and on to the town of Hillsville.
Back to the road I went and then started walking and holding out my thumb hoping for a ride. The caretaker at the church had told me that town was about six miles away. After only 15 minutes, the caretaker and a visiting evangelist stopped and gave me a ride into that town.They had gotten worried about me walking in the rain. Again, hurrah for the folks along the river.
I loaded my clothing into driers and asked for directions at the next door gas station so I could buy a charger for my phone. I started walking again and made it the mile or so to the Verizon store, bought a charger and started back. At the laundromat, I charged my phone and called a friend, Kim, to come and take me back to the campground.
She made it to me about two hours or so later and I was not feeling well at all. When we got to the boats the bush they were tied to was 6 feet out from the bank. She helped me load my things at the tepee, tell Donnie's wife that I would be back after I saw a doctor and took me back to Wytheville. I called the Bland Clinic and made an appointment to see my doctor.
I arrived early the next morning in a borrowed car, only to learn that my doctor was ill and that I would be seeing another doctor. During the nurse's workup I reported my infection and an annoying rash that had developed on my right breast. The nurse took a look at the irritation and told the doctor about it. He checked my records, looked at the rash, called in another doctor to look, and said I needed an immediate biopsy. There had been no biopsy taken for clear cell carcinoma at the University of Virginia breast cancer center last winter. The two doctors thought that my rash looked much like Piaget's Disease of the Breast. This rash usually shows up when there is an advanced form of breast cancer underneath. The biopsy was taken. My breast was stitched up. I was given prescriptions for lymph node infection, urinary tract infection and for the skin rash. I was sent home with instructions to wait and not to get wet until the stitches could be removed. I filled the prescriptions at Kmart and went home to wait.
For two weeks I waited anxiously. I called the Turners to tell them that I had been delayed and why. They said they would be praying for me and the Donnie would move the boats to higher ground. When I returned to the clinic for stitch removal, the results had just come back from the lab. I was clear of cancer. I could report that the urinary infection was gone, so we were all quite happy.
The next day I went to look at my boats and found that they were tied to a tree that was far out in the river. The river banks had enlarged more than 30 feet since Donnie and friends had moved the boats.
I waited another week until the river started to recede.

April 5th Journal Entry.

Started out in misty haze this morning. The kayak across the span of the raft now overhangs a few inches. With this span I will be able to steer and paddle. But I no longer have a large enough platform to set up my 10 by 12 tent. I will not have to get plywood to form a deck. I will have to think about how I will make camp when I pass only private property.
My shoulder ached this morning and I still have a fever. But wonder of wonders, I was able to pee last night without the terrible burning. The acidity from the vinegar must be holding back the infection. I will buy some cranberry juice and orange juice as soon as I come to a store. Maybe I can beat this thing by keeping my urine acidic?
As I came around the corner and saw the highway bridge ahead of me, wind picked up and started gusting directly at me. The wind was strong enough to blow me back upstream against the current and all of my efforts to move forward. When I realized that I could not beat the wind I let it blow me back to the river bend and there I turned toward the bank and tied up.
I took the kayak off of the boats and tied it on behind. I started for the bend again and again the wind was able to catch enough of my bow to blow me back up stream. I pulled the kayak close to the raft and changed positions. I sat on the kayak and tied the raft behind. I hoped being lower in the water would lower my profile to the wind, and that not being on the stern of the raft would lower its profile as well.
Around the corner I paddled, slowly I made headway into the wind. Very slow and very tiring progress. When I tired, I pulled up to a private dock, tied up and sat down to drink some water and to eat an apple. I planned on waiting for the wind to stop. I took my cellphone out of my purse and set my purse on the steps leading steeply up to the trailers. I called my friend, Dezra, and sent texts and pictures of the journey to other friends.
The owner of the property came down to a picnic table and started eating lunch with some friends. I asked if he minded my waiting for the wind to stop right there. He said he did not mind but the weather forecast called for the wind to pick up and for a big storm front to move in in the afternoon. He said that the ramp across the river belonged to Donnie Turner and that Donnie's place was only a mile downstream around another bend.
I decided to try to make it to the other side of the river and then to walk up the bank and down the road to Mr. Turner's place. Pulling the kayak behind again, I paddled for all I was worth. In about 20 minutes, I had crossed the one hundred yards of water against the wind. I tied my boats to a tree and went ashore. That's when I noticed that I had left my purse on the other side of the river.
I pulled the boats to the side so they would not be blocking the boat ramp. As I did this two young men came down in a pickup with a boat on a trailer. I tied my raft, trimaran to a bush and walked over to ask them if I could get a ride in their boat to the other side of the river. They said fine.
We offloaded their boat and using the electric trolling motor lined up to cross the river. The trolling motor wasn't enough to steady the boat, but when the outboard motor was started it did not help. Two of us paddled like crazy while the man operating the trolling motor steered us back to the boat ramp. The wind was still fiercely against moving in this direction.
We got the boat onto the trailer again and found that the prop pin connecting the prop to the motor had sheared. The two men pulled the boat up the hill going home to fix the prop. I started walking up to the highway bridge.
As I reached the top another gentleman, the owner of the property where I left my purse, stopped on his way to work. He gave me a ride to his place and after I retrieved my purse brought me back to the boat ramp. By truck we traveled almost three miles to make this roundtrip.
Everyone I have met on this journey has been wonderful. There has not been one reason to hum any music from "Deliverence."
I packed my blankets and some food into a backpack and walked down the road to Donnie Turner's campground. I waited on his doorstep for two hours until he came home and arranged to rent a campsite teepee. he gave me a ride back to the boatramp, which belonged to him by the way. I pulled out a notebook for this journal entry and he gave me a ride to the tent.
There is a hot shower here and no one else camping. I have the whole campground to myself.  It going to rain soon. Good night, Daddy. I'll greet you again in the morning

One More Reason to Love the USA

Another study shows that the average age that Trans kids are ejected from their home by "loving" parents is thirteen and a half. Think about that.

Thirteen and a half. And that's an average, some are younger. To be put out on the streets, no home, no education, nothing but the clothes on your back...and all too often, refused admission to the few shelters and help programs for homeless youth, because "they don't deal with your kind here". And to have one asset - a fresh, unspoilt, innocent body that's much in demand by some with exotic tastes in sex.

And you don't care about yourself. Why should you? You're society's refuse, not fit to exist.

One More Stillborn

I've been home for ten days waiting for the river to go down and the sun to dry the land. I have been looking for a home, a cheap car and sorting out my goods. I had hoped to be back on the river as soon as I could.
Yesterday, Lorrie wasn't feeling good and did not go to work. Mike came home early from the Food Lion and they went to see her doctor in the early afternoon. At three I sent a text message to her because I was worried. Lorrie has had tiny spottiness and a hematoma had been visible on her last ultrasound. No answer. At five, I called Mikey, but only got his voice mail. At six he called back and told me that they were at the hospital and that the doctor was inducing labor because the baby was dying in Lorrie's womb.
I had been prying that they would all be fine, but not I started reminding Daddy that he had promised to hear me always. My prayer was that the child would be in His hands and that we would be able to see him gathered with all of us. I knew that the baby would not be born with lungs to breathe and could not survive in this world. He had not had time to grow. I sat on the front porch and talked to my Father, to my brother Jesus. Far into the morning, we thought about people as the leaves of a tree and as friends that could come and go but always be a vital part of us. We thought about the tiny souls of so many children that had never been born and of those who had never even drawn a breathe. We saw the joy and the twinkle of their lives so brief here and so glowing in the gathering of us all.
We cried that I would have to wait so long to meet this child and that I had children that I had never yet met. I wondered if the flower seeds planted for a child so small it had no form still grew in New Mexico. I wept for Lorrie and a little for Mikey. She will miss this child and he will remember at least for a while.
In the morning Jammie, Lorrie's mother, called and said that a boy five ounces and seven inches long had been born and died. Mikey and Lorrie had called him Devon Ray. I will morn him and look forward to seeing him when my great spiral on this world is done.