Copasetic Flow

 We got back to transit this week! We were out of town for a month hanging out in Montana. The state’s pretty awesome, but in the small towns we were around, transit wasn’t really a thing, and  we missed it! If nothing else, just getting to zone out while someone else drives is a huge privilege . There’s not much to this post, but transit makes me smile, and I’m smiling again writing about it, so here goes. On Tuesday, I had to turn in our rental car, so I made a quick jaunt to the airport. My mood improved as soon as the car keys were out of my hands. No more worrying about someone else’s incredibly expensive property and the huge load of regulations surrounding all things driving. Even more happily, a leisurely stroll through the airport put me in front of the SFO museum’s (there are several mini-museums in SFO) new exhibit about Victorian wallpaper! All cultured up, I headed for the BART platform. The ride was simplicity itself, dumping me back close enough to the house to walk, but

What it is A number of campsites sprinkled along Pass Creek as it winds through Blue Jay Canyon paralleled by National Forest Road 122 off of US 93, with an occasional pit toilet restroom. Pass Creek is accessible from each of the campsites. Tall canyon walls shatter the ground, rising above the creek on either side of the road. Last Visited:   June of 2022. Last Reviewed: June of 2022 Getting there: As you travel along US 93, turn north onto National Forest Road 122 aka Pass Creek Rd. Drive about six and a half miles to reach the canyon itself, although you’ll find campsites dispersed along the road beginning as soon as you enter Salmon Challis National Forest . Review: The campsites sit along Pass Creek as it winds through the canyon. One of the campsites we passed was across the road from a pit toilet. The other six or so campsites which were a few tenths of a mile away from each other would require a walk back along the graveled road to reach the facilities, (or you could al

 We've made a decision lately that we're going to be getting out more. Let me start this by saying however, we will always, always mask: outdoors, indoors, everywhere.  But, getting back to the topic at hand, we're going to be doing more things more often outside the house.  It's become blindingly apparent to me—and maybe it hasn’t to you, and that’s OK, and one of the topics of this post—that the medical influencers and the powers that be are never going to let this pandemic end. Since we’re still going to have to function in the world, we, as a family, made the decision we have to get back into the world. And, it’s going to be quite scary. And, it’s going to be an awful lot of fun getting back into the world. (If we don't enjoy it, why even take the associated risks right?) And this same thing is happening to lot's of people: Yes. It's now an impossible situation. And so lonely. As neither the normies who think Covid is over, nor the hardcore single/child

 I got a reminder from Debra Eckerling via twitter about how much fun it is to correspond via mail and what a valuable way it is to network: Here’s your #Networking #GoaloftheDay #Write a #letter . On paper. With pen. And mail it! #goalchat @MangoPublishing pic.twitter.com/2GV2CTn0Ga — Debra Eckerling ⭐ Event Outcome Optimization (@TheDEBMethod) June 10, 2022 Think back to the last time you checked your mail. There were probably a few fliers from a chain grocery store, an inocuous white evenelope labeled 'Important!' offering you a new car warranty, and maybe a bill from the place you forgot to switch over to e-billing. Right?  If you're like me, that's what your mail has been like for the last 30 days or so in a row. Now, imagine you look at your stack of mail, and your handwritten name pops out at you from the front of an envelope. You check the postmark, (more on that below), and it's from a place you've never been, or maybe it's from in town, both e

 Happy June! I got to hang out in a new place with the gang and my parnter yesterday: a beautiful place full of flowers, a place with access to a mountain stream that ultimately cascades into a reservoir, and a place I had absolutely nothing to do with discovering. A few days back, while headed out to fish at a reservoir we've been to dozens of times, my partner suggested that the 11, 9, and 7 year old gang of kids should take our two dogs on a hike back into the forest above the lake. The gang heartily agreed. We dropped them off at the inlet to the lake with the understanding they'd explore upstream before meeting me back at the spot in an hour and a half. I dropped my partner off in a meadow next to the stream that flows away from the lake. I went to fish on the lake (and I didn't catch a thing.) An hour and a half later, I went to pick up the gang. Then, lots of things happened: As I pulled down the road to travel the two miles to the inlet of the lake, I ran into the g