Joan & Amy take Tahoe

h.m. hamilton — Sat Oct 06 22:27:48 UTC 2007

Back in September (2007) I took a trip for work to Lake Tahoe. It was pretty amazing, the color of the lake is astounding. When I got to kayak out on the Lake I almost flipped myself out because looking down you can see to the bottom. For someone from Florida used to seeing sea grass, mussels, rocks, algae and fishes, the lake seemed almost foreboding, creepy to look down, 10, 15, 20+ feet to the sand and big rocks on the bottom. That edgy quiet moment when I started panicking, is usually when some minority or unliked character in a horror movie bites it.

More importantly, the water in the lake is C-O-L-D. I really did not want to fall in. I managed with the help of my buddy in the kayak calming me down, not fall in or tip both of us into the drink.

I actually went swimming in the lake the day before, and did it because I guess you don't go all the way there and at least not get in. I think I screamed at first since the water was about 62 degrees Fahrenheit. There was a two year old in the water having a blast, I envied her comfort in the frigid water. But I got in, in my swimsuit though people do dive that water in dry suits, and had a colleague take a few photos to prove I actually did it, and then I got out.

Joan & Any also went with me to Lake Tahoe, though they did not kayak, as their arms are too small to efficiently use the paddles. Nor do they swim. But, they worked as the usual good luck charm that they have been for decades when I travel.

On the trip we also went up to see the site of the Angora Fire. The devastation was, just that devastating. Given the beauty of the location, I easily understand why people want to live there. But fires, hurricanes and floods are a part of living on this planet. Looking forward down the slope, some of the twisted and burned tree limbs actually resembled elkhorn coral. The blackened slope was a weird contradiction to the hill & valley behind us containing Fallen Leaf Lake which was lush and beautiful.

On the cover

h.m. hamilton — Wed Jul 04 01:57:40 UTC 2007

OK, the picture is not of me.

I am not a small plastic doll with dirt stains on my cheeks that won't wash off. The dolls though, posed in front of a pack of floss, have been pretty much everywhere I have been since I was almost 4 years old. My mom got them for 25¢ out of one of those old school vending machines you used to find in restrooms along the highways and turnpikes back in the 70's. It was just an average machine full of random little toys and whatnots at one of the stops en route to a sister's graduation from college in Massachusetts. It was a long drive from northern Ohio. A packed station wagon, a hot June day, and two tiny dolls to keep me occupied.

They came together in little clear plastic ball, like the ones cheap knee highs from the drugstore come in. I’ve had them for almost 38 years. According to Mom, that was the best investment she’s ever made.

They went with me to college in Pennsylvania; to Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of Congo); they served with me in Burundi while I was a Peace Corps volunteer; then off to the Taj Mahal; up and down the foothills of the Himalayas; my wedding, The Rocky Mountains, and off to Cambodia.

I think I will tell my stories through their eyes. They’ve seen it all.

h.m. hamilton's Dandelife : adventures in dog grooming

Joan & Amy take Tahoe

On the cover