On a Dark and Stormy Day On a Marshrutka. A Plan.

Scene from a marshrutka. Between Rustavi and Tbilisi. June 2012. 

Just about every weekend I was on a marshrutka from Rustavi to Tbilisi.

Friday, June 8, 2012, was no exception.

It may have been this very day when it struck me, just like this storm wave that I watched from the marshrutka window as it reared up to devour multiple villages and roving livestock. "It" being the idea of seeing the world one year at a time.

Scene from a marshrutka. Between Rustavi and Tbilisi. June 2012. 

So far, this plan for super s-l-o-w travel has been working out even better than I could have imagined.

What's surprising to me is that I spent the first two years post-Georgia (country of) in the USA - one year in New Mexico and the next in South Louisiana.

Each year, I keep thinking I'll be out of the US. My plan for 2015 was no exception - it was to be the year of Oaxaca, Mexico. Ah, Mexico - always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Maybe next year.

Instead, in a plot twist I didn't see coming, I'm going to do a second year in Louisiana. Not just Louisiana, but South Louisiana. Not in Lafayette, though. A different town.

South Louisiana has too much depth to study in only one year. I've barely touched on the Creole history and culture, the co-dependent relationship between Louisiana and oil, how the state is literally drowning, Indian history, and some things I'll get into later. Also, I want to get more into canoeing and get better at dancing.

Anyway, this time next week I'll be back in South Louisiana, looking for a new place to live.

Welcome to Missouri

When I crossed back over the border into Missouri for my annual layover this year, this was my welcome:

There's something so Route 66 about this.

Caucasus Georgia: Trains

Kukushka, Borjomi, Caucasus Georgia

It was in Caucasus Georgia that I first slept on a train. If you think it might be cool to lie on a bed, being gently shaken, while looking at a full moon through the window as you pass by a dark landscape, you'd be right.

I present for you some scenes from Georgian trains.


Traveling from Zugdidi to Tbilisi:

Correction for above - hey, that's not a scene from a train, it's a scene from a marshrutka. But what the hey, it shows off Georgian countryside and has a pretty song in the background. My companions and I did take a train from Tbilisi to Zugdidi (and then a marshrutka to the legendary Svaneti), and it was even an overnight train, but where the visual evidence of that might be? Somewhere in the archives. I'll hunt for it another day.


From Borjomi to Bakuriani on the kukushka:

Another leg of the Borjomi to Bakuriani trip, including whistle and bridge crossing:

My friend, Sandy, and I took the overnight train between Batumi and Tbilisi one weekend:

Train from Batumi to Tbilisi, Caucasus Georgia

New Mexico: Trains

Rail crossing, Lordsburg, New Mexico

I've been thinking about trains lately. I definitely had a relationship with trains in New Mexico. Usually a good song was playing while I waited for a train to cross or while I drove alongside a moving train.


Driving east on I-10 between Lordsburg and Deming:

Music by La Grande Sophie, Ce jour-la, from the album Des vagues et des ruisseaux.



Below is on Highway 54 between Vaughn and Carrizozo:

Music by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, Over the Rainbow/Wonderful World.


A railroad crossing in Lordsburg:

Music by crossing signal.


On the road to Santa Fe with my mother:

Music by Cat Stevens, Miles From Nowhere.

Highway 54 train between Corona and Vaughn

Rootless Games: Geocaching

 

Los Angeles en San Francisco

I thought geocaching was like orienteering, something that required a compass and that I'd have to attend some sort of training for. Which was on my list of things to do one day.

It made me happy to hear the other day that geocaching pretty much just requires a smart phone, a tool I now have. And geocaching is free. Part of geocaching is leaving small trinkets behind. I'm thinking this could be a cool way to set free some of my lone earrings. 

Deer at Bosque del Apache Bosque, New Mexico

My brother said he likes geocaching because it takes him places he'd never go otherwise. This is exactly the kind of thing a rootless girl likes to do.

I've downloaded a free geocaching app onto my phone and am ready to go adventureering.

Lordsburg, New Mexico

Borjomi, Caucasus Georgia

Stay tuned.





 

Missouri: Potosi ~ formerly known as Mine au Breton

Presbyterian Cemetery, Potosi, Missouri

Potosi, Missouri, like nearby Old Mines, was established as a village by the French. It's original name was Mine au Breton.  My mother and I swung through a few days ago on a short day trip.

Presbyterian Church, Potosi, Missouri

The old Presbyterian Church in Potosi, Missouri, was established in 1832.

Presbyterian Church, Potosi, Missouri

 I like the lines of this old church.

Presbyterian Cemetery, Potosi, Missouri

The good folks over at carrollscorner offer intel about the cemetery's inhabitants here.

Log house, Potosi, Missouri

Nearby is a large log house.  It looks like there is a lot of stuff pile up inside the house, based on what can be seen from the road through the windows.

A son of Potosi, Tom Huck, memorialized his perspective of his hometown by way of woodcuts he called Two Weeks in August. Mr. Huck's memories are not as fond as the Chamber of Commerce might like.

Missouri: LaBarque Creek - January

LaBarque Creek, Missouri. January 2015.

My brother has a place with frontage on LaBarque Creek. He tells me that LaBarque Creek is among the top four most pristine waterways in Missouri, and that the state owns a goodly percentage of the stream system in order to protect it. 

LaBarque Creek, Missouri. January 2015.

LaBarque Creek is only a little over six miles long, but it is home to more than 50 species of fish.

LaBarque Creek, Missouri. January 2015.

My brother and I took a short walk along the creek the other day.

LaBarque Creek, Missouri. January 2015.

I was, of course, delighted when he noticed the skull overlooking the water. 

LaBarque Creek, Missouri. January 2015.

Do you see the ribbon-like trail marked above, in the sandy stream bed, by some creature?

LaBarque Creek, Missouri. January 2015.

I like the variety of ice designs above - the speckled surface at the top, the bright lines below on the left, and the crystalline obelisks on the bottom right.

Missouri: Old Mines - St. Joachim Cemetery #2

St. Joachim Cemetery #2, Old Mines, Missouri

At least I think this is St. Joachim's Cemetery #2. There appear to be three St. Joachim's Cemeteries in tiny Old Mines.

St. Joachim Cemetery #2, Old Mines, Missouri

My mother and I took a mini road trip Old Mines over the weekend. My interest in this village was due to its Missouri French history and a tradition it had that is similar to the courir de Mardi Gras in South Louisiana. If you watch the Pat Mire documentary, Dance for a Chicken, at minute 6:38, you'll hear about La Guignolee, a tradition similar to the courir de Mardi Gras, albeit a different time of year (December 31 or January 1) and different song (La Guignole). You can listen to the song here:

Here is a half-hour video about Old Mines and the Missouri French. The video references the cemetery, mentioning the abundance of iron crosses. The designs on the cross ends are similar to those in Quebec, Nova Scotia, and of the Cajuns in South Louisiana. The designs go back to the time of the Crusades in Europe. 

St. Joachim Cemetery #2, Old Mines, Missouri

St. Joachim Cemetery #2, Old Mines, Missouri

My French people helped settle St. Louis (specifically Florissant) in the early 1700s. They came down from Cadillac in what is now Michigan, but back in the day, was in French territory.

St. Joachim Cemetery #2, Old Mines, Missouri

The video also mentions a book, It's Good to Tell You: French Folktales from Missouri. You can download or open the book in its entirety here. Rosemary Hyde Thomas, affiliated with St. Louis Community College at Meramec, collected the stories from French-speaking Old Mines residents in the late 1970s.

St. Joachim Cemetery #2, Old Mines, Missouri

The crypt above looks ominous to me. It's for a T.C. Murphy, who evidently died in a boat explosion. I tried to get a photo of the interior through the keyhole in that metal door. Doesn't it look like a crematorium? Shivers.

St. Joachim Cemetery #2, Old Mines, Missouri

Here is a good page that identifies some of the markers in Cemetery #2.

St. Joachim Cemetery #2, Old Mines, Missouri

I bet this cemetery has been flooded a time or two.

Rootless: Health Insurance

Last year was the first year for mandatory health insurance enrollment. 

I didn't enroll in the health insurance system in 2014 because:

• My legal residence is in one state, but my body is often outside that state. I had no idea how to enroll in a plan that would actually be of any use to me should I need it. Over the years, my experience with bureaucracies has shown that they don't know what to do about round pegs in square holes. The consequence is that the round peg is penalized in some way. (Not to mention that the legislators in my home state willfully sacrificed affordable access to their constituents in order to make a political point. They even made it a crime for state employees to give any advice to Missouri residents who had questions about enrolling in the ACA.)
• I'm very lucky to enjoy good health.
• It made more economic sense for me to pay the 2014 penalty for non-enrollment than to pay the insurance premiums.  

This year is different because:

The penalty for non-enrollment is significantly higher than it was in 2014, so I might as well get the insurance coverage, although with its ridiculous $6000 deductible, it's about worthless to me except in a catastrophic situation.

In fact, I'm appalled at two things: 1) that I'm paying so much every month for so little; and 2) that taxpayers are paying the extortionate monthly subsidy I qualify for - for this deplorable coverage  - in order to sustain a healthcare system that enriches a lucky few, wreaks financial, physical, and spiritual devastation on so many, and to top it off, is so disparate in its quality of services. These high-deductible plans - with the carriers getting so much money per month from the insured and the federal government - are like a happy financial windfall for them. 

But here is the silver lining: Some of the policies are eligible for health savings accounts. Now there's something I can get behind! The HSA is a pretty little creature:

• I can put tax-free money into it every year (there is an annual cap);
• I can use it for any medical or dental expense throughout the year (without paying tax on what I withdraw);
• Any unused money rolls over to the next year, so as the likelihood of my medical needs increase with my age, I'll have more HSA money at my disposal; 
• I can put the HSA into an investment account to grow my deposits; 
• Once in a lifetime, I can roll over an IRA into my HSA; and
• When I reach a certain age, I can treat my HSA just like an IRA. 

I think health insurance coverage will work for me for 2015, after a fashion. "Work for me" in the sense that I won't be assessed a tax penalty for the 2015 tax year. Unless I miscalculated my prospective income for the year and then I will be punished for same.

Will it work for me after that? Don't know, as I don't know where I'll be after 2015.

Hopefully, the current iteration of so-called "affordable" health care is merely a stepping stone to what we need to do in the USA - have single-payer health care. Medicare and Medicaid are already viable systems, so it's not like we have to invent any new wheels.

A final note: The singling out of smokers for higher premiums in the health care marketplace is discriminatory. Smoking has negative health effects, but no more so than some other behaviors such as driving while impaired, abusing substances (artificial or natural, legal or illegal, prescribed or not prescribed), and so on. There is a relationship between smoking and low socio-economic status. By targeting smokers for higher premiums, we are over-taxing the poor. (Disclosure: I am not a smoker, but I used to be.)


P.S.: I just saw where my insurance carrier has Dr. Oz on its home page. Imagine. Dr. Oz, who dispenses snake oil along with medicine.  Jeez.

,

Somewhere in Mississippi: A Relic

Somewhere in Mississipi

I passed this once-upon-a-time dream on my way from Louisiana to Missouri for my annual relocation layover.

Greenville, Mississippi: Cypress Reserve 2014

  

Cypress Reserve, Greenville, Mississippi, November 2014

On my way from Louisiana to Missouri for my annual relocation layover, I stopped for the night in Greenville, Mississippi. 

Cypress Reserve, Greenville, Mississippi, November 2014

The next morning I strolled through the Cypress Reserve, which I first visited in 2011.

Cypress Reserve, Greenville, Mississippi, November 2014

The Cypress Reserve is a lovely place for a quiet walk.

Cypress Reserve, Greenville, Mississippi, November 2014

Arkansas: Cotton

Cotton in Arkansas. November 2014.

On my way from Louisiana to Missouri for my annual interregnum, about midway between Bonita, Louisiana, and Greenville, Mississippi (maybe Portland, Arkansas?) - Highway 165 - I saw immense cylinders stuffed with cotton - yellow foam cylinders.

Cotton in Arkansas. November 2014.

Cotton in Arkansas. November 2014.

 

Cotton in Arkansas. November 2014.

Cotton in Arkansas. November 2014.

 

Cotton in Arkansas. November 2014.

As you can see, they got my attention.

Gives me a chance to remember the so-soft cotton in Derry, New Mexico.

North Louisiana: Columbia

 

Columbia, Louisiana

On my way back to Missouri from Louisiana for my annual interregnum, I passed through Columbia, Louisiana.

Cemetery Hill,  Columbia, Louisiana

It was the first time I'd been in North Louisiana since I knew there was a North Louisiana, as opposed to South Louisiana.

Columbia, Louisiana

My buddy, Dave Robicheaux, doesn't seem to like North Louisianans much, but it seems impolite to go into the details when I'm actually in North Louisiana in this post. Maybe we'll chat later.

Alamogordo, NM: The Disappearing (and Appearing) Mountains Revisited

In 2013, when I was living in Alamogordo, New Mexico, it was like magic to witness how the Sacramento Mountains - so close! - could appear and disappear depending on clouds, rain, or dust conditions.

In March 2013, I published the post below. But I added the second video only a few days ago, as it had been lost somewhere in my archives. Both show me driving east on Indian Wells in Alamogordo - once on a clear day, and another time on a day during a dust-wind storm.

ALAMOGORDO: THE DISAPPEARING MOUNTAINS

I live perhaps half a mile - maybe less! I will clock it - from a front line of the Sacramento Mountains.

My apartment is oriented north-south, and I'm near the easternmost edge of town, and whether I look out my front window or back window, I see the mountains right there, so very close.

Alamogordo, New Mexico, 2013

The constancy of their presence is pleasing. I like to see how a day's changing light creates shadows on the mountain planes, shifting colors and depths in interesting ways.

Alamogordo, New Mexico, 2013

Some days the mountains disappear.

Alamogordo, New Mexico, 2013

Could be dust or snow or fog. It's uncanny.

The other day, I took the video below going east on Indian Wells to show how a dust-wind can completely obscure the Sacramento Mountains. You're looking right at the mountains in this video - but you can't see them, not til about 1:24.

Below is a video of the exact same route on a clear day. Mountains!

Louisiana: Coozie Count

 

Louisiana coozies

After a year in Louisiana, my coozie count topped out at 20.

I received them at festivals, parades, and hey - Brooke and Ron! Happy 2013 nuptials! - I even plucked one off the street.

Sizes vary to accommodate cans, bottles, cups, glasses, and some coffee mugs, if the handle is high enough from the base.

My coozies proclaim information about:

• Bands
• Bayou Teche clean-up
• People running for political office
• Businesses
• and Brooke and Ron's marriage

Louisiana: A Creative Setback

James Lee Burke. Source: James Lee Burke.

There are 20 Dave Robicheaux books written by South Louisiana native, James Lee Burke.

Throughout my year in Louisiana, I've used Dave as a prism to view the past, present, and future of South Louisiana - people, natural resources, beauty, ugliness, fears, potential.

As I read each of Dave's books, I collected excerpts that I found of special note. All of the excerpts illuminated South Louisiana in vivid ways.

When I say "collect," I mean I manually keyed the excerpts into a draft blog post that served as a warehouse of sorts. Over the course of the year, I harvested salient excerpts from this warehouse to enrich posts I wrote about my South Louisiana experience.

What happened

I had read 19 of the Dave books and was in the midst of the 20th when it happened. In a tragic cascade of errors on my part, I deleted my warehouse of excerpts.

All attempts to recover my treasure were futile. This is because: 

1. I hadn't backed up my draft post onto a Word document JUST IN CASE I did something stupid. (The fact that I had never accidentally deleted a draft post is entirely irrelevant - back-up strategies exist for the inevitable failure of all systems at some point.) 
2. I had set my browser to not save any history. 
3. I had blithely accepted blogger's auto-save feature. 

If any ONE of the above situations had been different, I could have retrieved my pre-deleted draft because I discovered the deletion so soon after it occurred.

What next?

I grieved for several days and pondered my choices:

1. Be happy for the excerpts I'd already been able to weave into the blog and let the loss go; or 
2. Re-read all 20 books and recreate my inventory.

Some of the books I'd borrowed in hard-copy from the library. Others I'd downloaded onto my Kindle.

The decision

I decided to re-collect the excerpts. James Lee Burke's vision of South Louisiana is that important to my experience, and his is a perspective I want others to know about, too.

Fortunately, I had used Kindle's bookmark feature for those books I'd downloaded from the library. When I returned a downloaded book to the library, I couldn't access the bookmarks. But if I borrowed and downloaded a book again from the library, I could again access the bookmarks. Yay! 90% of the job done for those I'd previously downloaded, the only chore being to re-key the exerpts.

For books I'd borrowed hard-copy, this meant going through page by page to seek the excerpts.

Once I decided to re-do my work, I accepted the situation and got started. I'm still in process of re-creating what I lost.

Oh and yeah. Now I back up my progress on a Word doc, and I've re-set my browser to keep my history.

Here's a list of how Dave has helped guide me through South Louisiana thus far:

• February 15, 2014: Introduction
• February 22, 2014: Dave Robicheaux and North Louisianans
• February 23, 2014: Dave Robicheaux and Alcohol
• March 4, 2014: Dave Robicheaux and Some Fine Music
• April 12, 2014: Dave Robicheaux and Louisiana's Shadow Self
• April 16, 2014: Angola and .. 
• May 19, 2014: Police Dave Robicheaux, Police Violence and Our Complicity in Same
• July 20, 2014: And Now for a Word from Dave 
• August 3, 2014: Katrina in a Nutshell  
• October 17, 2014: Dave Robicheaux and the Beautiful Whore Called Louisiana
• October 18, 2014: Dave Robicheaux' Music

 

C'est la vie, cher.


 



 







 

Rootless: Security

Outside Warrenton, Missouri

I've had short-term and long-term relationships with data protection schemes.

The past 

In October 2010, I explored Virtual Document and Data Storage, Part 1. I talked about how all systems fail, and the goal of protecting a system is to fail intelligently, and about safe sex.

Later the same month came Virtual Document and Data Storage, Part 2. I talked about buying a pig in a poke and the unknowables of the Big Cloud. Here was a follow-up on the unknowable part.   

Then came Virtual Document and Data Storage, Part 3. A discussion of external hard drives based on my teaspoonful of understanding.
 

In 2011, there were some mishaps. Amazon S3 stumbled via redundant redundancy. Dropbox lost my favor.

I've written about the ins and outs of what makes for a good password. Here. And here.

And on the perils of complacency.  And the cascade effect of system failure.

Key

The present

'tis January again, thus time for a review of my security tools and processes. Talked about this last January, too.

External hard drive versus cloud back-up

I've gone 'round and 'round about backing up my stuff on an external hard drive versus a cloud (or clouds) versus ... what?

More than a year ago, I terminated my relationship with Dropbox. Not trustworthy, in my opinion, at least not for the kind of relationship I seek. (See link above.) Mostly, I just want an easy-button way to back up my stuff  in a secure way on a secure place. I don't want to sync the data and I sure as hell don't want a public-sharing option with my back-up application.

In general, I was losing confidence in the cloud as a go-to for my important data. This squeamishness was reinforced when I talked with some of my EFL students who are techie professionals. Bottom line for them: They don't put important personal data on the cloud. Now, in the grand scheme of things, is my personal data so rivetingly important to attract untoward attention? Well, no. But gosh darn, it's my personal data, thus important to me.

In the past year, I've been using an external hard drive to back up my stuff. It's relatively easy, although I'm the one who has to calendar the back up and plug in the device. The dearth of user guidance that came with the device was irritating. Of course, I could keep the hard drive plugged in and then the back up would be automatic, but keeping the external hard drive with my laptop kind of defeats one of the basic tenets of security protection - keeping your stuff in different places.

Speaking of keeping my primary data storage segregated from my secondary storage (i.e. external hard drive), this is tough to do in my rootless life. I live in small spaces with minimal furniture, closets, and helpful nooks or crannies. Sure, I could rent a deposit box in an outside location, but that would make regular back ups a pain, ergo, they wouldn't happen regularly enough.

For a Plan B, I considered divvying up my stuff among various clouds, but that just made me feel tired.

Belt and suspenders

Sooooo, I revisited the idea of an online back-up service.

I chose the service whose primary focus was backup and not primarily online storage. (At least this is its stated focus.) In comparing services, I looked at:

• Straight cost + cost in relation to quantity of data that's included in that cost
• Techie and user reviews
• Ease of use

It took about 48 hours to back up my stuff for the first time. I'm in a free trial period, so I can opt out and go with a different service if I find a shinier penny somewhere else.

The service I'm test driving has a "sync and share" application. If I want to launch this application, I have to download it specifically. Frankly, I don't like a back-up service that I can also use as a collaborative-working application. This is mission creep as far as I'm concerned, and there are other applications out there with kick-ass collaboration tools. I heartily dislike that my trial back-up service has a Facebook link so I can share my backed-up photos with same.

We'll see how my relationship goes with this particular back-up service.

But if I stick with this service or go with another one, as someone whose life's footprint is almost exclusively digital, I feel better having both the external hard drive and the online back up service.