Just hit me

OMG, I just read another persons travel blog and okay, if mine get that bad would someone please hit me. The first word of every sentence was "I". It was scary, and the pictures .. Pretty.. But much the same.
Pictures... We all take pictures and what do we do with them all?. All right, raise your hand, how many of you have a shoe box full of pictures that you never look at. Roy just bought a $1000.00 camera and is talking about buying a $1000 dollar zoom lens to go with it. So, what are we going to do with all those pictures and who is going to look at them and how many sunsets can a person take AND when its all said and done, in a year from now, heck a month from now, heck tomorrow, there will be another sunset and I won't know one cloud from another. LOL Dear daughter, it looks as if your going to not only inherit the mess in the garage, but your going to have to dump a million pictures of stuff that you don't even know what or where or who they are.) As it is, he takes picture of stuff and I haven't a clue what they are when I get home. "Roy, what is this a picture of?" "Oh, that a roof tile, isn't it cool"? But I thought we had enough pictures of roof tiles?" Well, this one is special cause its on a roof that we haven't taken a picture of before"! Actually, I am kidding but we do have a dozen roof tile pictures.
Okay, I promise, if I post a picture, it will be of something that you have never seen before, or something truly remarkable. No sunsets. No pictures of pretty mountains or Aunt Tillys back yard, or a wild flower surrounded by rocks, or rosy rear end or even roof tiles, regardless of how interested you are in roof tiles. Also, kill me if I start to post pictures of our motorhome or worse the inside of our motorhome. (I suppose if I have one of those $150.000 dollar mansions on wheels then I would post a picture of it, but ours is Ms Cheapo Casita and hopefully she is camera shy but if you want to see a picture of her google Pursuit by Georgie Boy and check it out. Better yet, call me and we will come and visit and I'll give you a private tour. (Yep Cousin Linda, you're my first visit....)

When we first move out of metropolitan USA in 1974 we moved to Ft Leonardwood MO. I had never lived in a town without at least 2 million people and suddenly I find myself in rural American. I might as well have been in Mongolia because while we all spoke almost the same language, I just didn't know about rural life.. I remember one day Jean and I were reading the local paper and I was almost in shock because the big stories of the day was that Trudy Jones had company over for Sunday Dinner and she served chicken and rice. I was laughing so hard I nearly pee'd my pants. I'm sorry, in San Francisco or LA or even Guadalajara, the big story would be a crime or a politician or even some gossip about a famous person, but that anyone served chicken and rice would never have made any page of the San Francisco Chronical...
Now Jean was a new friend that I made when I moved to Missouri and she spoke some "rural". She taught me about 'cracklins and boiled peanuts (Expect I thought she was saying bald peanut and that made no sense to me at all. What was a bald peanut?. She had to buy me a bag and of course I became addicted immediately, and you can bet I am going to time my next visit to bald peanut season) and I taught her about tacos and French bread.
Were was I going with this. Wow, old age is horrible, brain fart, I have no idea what the point was going to be. Maybe that some of the travel blogs that I read are like rural Americana and I should just keep my mouth shut. I just don't want to sound like a second grader.... and I know that If I tried to keep a running log of our travels you would hear a lot of boring stuff. "Today we put 30 miles on the rig and visited "big tree" and boy was big tree, a very very big tree with pretty green leaves"! Stick my finger down my throat.

Now I know that your all excited to hear about our trip to Mt Koya and the stay with the Buddhist monks next week. I hope I make the bus as it leaves at 0500. Grrrr.