tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523641595001073932024-03-04T22:47:33.552-08:00The Ninja LibrarianThe Blog of writer Rebecca M. DouglassRebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.comBlogger1388125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-13826134753426273262022-01-05T00:00:00.213-08:002022-01-05T00:00:00.175-08:00#IWSG + Cozy Review & Author Interview: Murder in Second Position<p>This is a big post! Lots going on... hang in there.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/p/iwsg-sign-up.html" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="320" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiRQ7gYhY8xg1mOu2yctz3HDyRleXFVByD-q9qCLgrNlVZsmETnJBOqUrUrYr4gdu-7udEPvHWRcyo5CNn1xGbmq7aKoVZoOHVQVtZglAwpH_vr4R_bXg76ddMFxkCwI-MwDQoa76WidKJw5ATGEgfyAafHDLVRbg0uPGHZdsMBS55spbV9cdBrXjk" width="320" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">What is the IWSG?</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We are a group of writers who gather on the Internet to offer support and encouragement to each other! And we owe it all to the founder, Ninja Captain Alex Cavanaugh. Thanks, Alex!</span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span><b>Purpose:</b> To share and encourage.
Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing
foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer
assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all
kinds!</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><span></span></span></div><p>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span><b>Posting:</b> The first Wednesday of every month is officially <b>Insecure Writer’s Support Group</b>
day. Post your thoughts on your own blog. Talk about your doubts and
the fears you have conquered. Discuss your struggles and triumphs. Offer
a word of encouragement for others who are struggling. Visit others in
the group and connect with your fellow writer - aim for a dozen new
people each time - and return comments. This group is all about
connecting!</span></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">
<span>Every month, we announce a question that
members can answer in their IWSG post. These questions may prompt you
to share advice, insight, a personal experience or story. Include your
answer to the question in your IWSG post or let it inspire your post if
you are struggling with something to say. </span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Remember, the question is optional! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: yellow;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b> January 5 question - What's the one thing about your writing career you regret the most? Were you able to overcome it? </b></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Be sure to visit the awesome co-hosts for the January 5 posting of the IWSG: <b><a _blank="" href="https://erikabeebe.com/”target=">Erika Beebe,</a> <a href="https://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/p/olgagodim.wordpress.com" target="_blank">Olga Godim,</a> <a href="http://sandracox.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Sandra Cox,</a> </b><a href="http://thefauxfountainpen.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><b>Sarah Foster</b>,</a> and <b><a href="http://hogwartssabbatical.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Chemist Ken!</a></b> </span></div>
<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>A quick answer to the question, and on to the rest of this post! I don't feel like I have any huge regrets... mostly, I wish I had known when I published my first book what I know now about the craft. I'm often tempted to pull it and re-edit, but probably never will. Mostly, I have no big regrets.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>Now, my <b>Writer's Update</b>: <br />The holidays naturally derailed writing progress some, but also put pressure on me to finish editing my Nepal photos--I made it in time for a family slide show! I'm sharing those photos a few at a time on this blog over the next month or so. I also did finally (after far too much mucking about) get started on edits on the new novel (note to self: MUST decide on a title and start using it!). I'm still working on that first read-through where I create a new outline so I can figure out how to rearrange things. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>I've not been submitting things, and need to get back to that. And the blog is moving to it's new home starting tomorrow, if all goes well. You can check it out at <a href="http://Rebecca-Douglass.com">www.Rebecca-Douglass.com</a>, and sign up to follow me there,though we may still be working on the details. <b>Note: If you are following me, and want to keep getting notices about new posts, you will need to re-follow on the new blog! </b></span></span></p>
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</p><p>And now... from Great Escapes Blog Tours...</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgi81xqst5xCZGKLq5HEyfLLi8Dvqx-VAgmwVJyfNEsoQMtBFFHzs6ZGm9HaQORmDjgeQvB7hUjbvGpuIVk3hvE24raWDmagDzrjvA22OFbvTEDp50tTq-XlykWVKZ-Jmq6GQQ-gWURw4wDvX49V_qLa0TiK0lGMcJuIgGWbT5JR2KcJSlxm7PhwZg=s244" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="235" data-original-width="244" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgi81xqst5xCZGKLq5HEyfLLi8Dvqx-VAgmwVJyfNEsoQMtBFFHzs6ZGm9HaQORmDjgeQvB7hUjbvGpuIVk3hvE24raWDmagDzrjvA22OFbvTEDp50tTq-XlykWVKZ-Jmq6GQQ-gWURw4wDvX49V_qLa0TiK0lGMcJuIgGWbT5JR2KcJSlxm7PhwZg=w200-h193" width="200" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0szH1qxzjVgbG87tmKKaCjqfmWIumekQcNP5gyeiLCbpauZcXeLKbT5EBMrgvZlglJubQ-JsNhAKbyVxWFl1vvOHwEJwmy-_8SL_6jAQsM49PkamZawmZNb6U6KbdoQ8fLcii6krEu8ufGoqtXrHKfutTurq4Z9cDWDFGJ1Y8RWUTPpGrI2Zm4I8=s640" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="301" data-original-width="640" height="189" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0szH1qxzjVgbG87tmKKaCjqfmWIumekQcNP5gyeiLCbpauZcXeLKbT5EBMrgvZlglJubQ-JsNhAKbyVxWFl1vvOHwEJwmy-_8SL_6jAQsM49PkamZawmZNb6U6KbdoQ8fLcii6krEu8ufGoqtXrHKfutTurq4Z9cDWDFGJ1Y8RWUTPpGrI2Zm4I8=w400-h189" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #20124d;">Murder in Second Position: An On Pointe Mystery</span><span style="color: #20124d;"> by Lori Robbins</span></div>
<h2 style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><i><span style="font-family: 'book antiqua', palatino, serif; font-size: 24pt;">About Murder in Second Position </span></i></span></h2>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter wp-image-174065" height="500" src="https://www.escapewithdollycas.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/MURDER-IN-SECOND-POSITION-Cover-FINAL2-682x1024.jpg" width="333" />
<b> </b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><a class="amzn_ps_bm_tl" data-amzn-link-id="844ec2693c340ed046b22ba19b959d28" data-amzn-ps-bm-keyword="Murder in Second Position: An On Pointe Mystery" href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/1685120210/ref=as_li_bk_tl/?tag=dollycsthoug-20&linkId=844ec2693c340ed046b22ba19b959d28&linkCode=ktl" id="amznPsBmLink_6772550" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">Murder in Second Position: An On Pointe Mystery</a><img alt="" border="0" height="0" id="amznPsBmPixel_6772550" src="https://ir-na.amazon-adsystem.com/e/ir?source=bk&t=dollycsthoug-20&bm-id=default&l=ktl&linkId=844ec2693c340ed046b22ba19b959d28&_cb=1637789880448" style="border: medium none; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 0px;" width="0" /></b>
<b> </b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Cozy Mystery</b>
<b>2nd in Series</b> <b><br />Level Best Books (November 23, 2021)</b> <b><br />Paperback : 258 pages</b> <b><br />ISBN-10 : 1685120210</b>
<b>ISBN-13 : 978-1685120214</b>
<b>Kindle ASIN : B09FM1JTFL</b>
<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/59645743-murder-in-second-position"><img alt="" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-10339" height="41" src="https://www.escapewithdollycas.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/goodreads-badge-add-plus-d700d4d3e3c0b346066731ac07b7fe47.png" width="130" /></a></p>
<p> <b>Blurb:<br /></b></p><blockquote><p style="text-align: justify;">Ballerina Leah Siderova belongs onstage. Not in an interrogation room at Manhattan’s Twentieth Precinct. And yet, for the second time in less than a year, that’s where she has a starring role. It wasn’t her fault someone killed the autocratic new director of the American Ballet Company. And it wasn’t her job to find the killer.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Leah is determined to stay as far away as possible from the murder investigation. After all, if she were going to kill someone, it would have been the woman who’s been relentlessly trolling her on social media. And that’s where things get complicated. Because when dancers say “ballet can be murder” they don’t mean it literally.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Most of the time.</p></blockquote><p><b>My Review:<br /></b>This was a fun, well-written read! I really enjoyed the glimpse into the world of ballet, despite not being a dancer (but one of my best friends was...), and it felt real and accurate from what little I know. Leah is a likable main character and an engaging narrator, if not always as sensible as she should be. I did worry about the whole eating disorder thing--dancers really do abuse their bodies in all directions.</p><p>They mystery was well constructed, with enough clues to point the way and enough misdirection to keep it interesting. If Leah doesn't always use good sense, she at least always *thinks* she's being safe and careful, and her reasons for not just leaving it all to the police are convincing. The police might not always agree, but she doesn't mess up the evidence so she passes!</p><p>There are a lot of characters, and in my usual scatter-brained fashion I had a little trouble at times remembering who is who. I'm honestly not sure if that's the book or my brain, and in the end it was all clear enough. Some of my issues might be because this is book 2 of the series, and there is some history that, while adequately reported, is left tantalizingly vague.<br /></p><p><b>Recommendation: <br /></b>This is a nice addition to the cozy-mystery shelf, and the series seems worth following up on. Especially if you are interested in the world of dance, check it out!</p><p><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgL-1YEmAlkna4ZkbiyS3QjW3jh36lmaGHtLdVEHYNIl2X3DX80O0p64wzI2fmVqmJaNSMt0CMOMoGR03nlDcxjbjYKlA3rpHxHYA8u6Fg_4n8j52zmyLEfMXvkwKojaKt6VHn3o6kPbB7ABYqdw0en098VbZTA5drjZrtKGEPhmphXQ10vpUDM_gU=s480" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="320" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgL-1YEmAlkna4ZkbiyS3QjW3jh36lmaGHtLdVEHYNIl2X3DX80O0p64wzI2fmVqmJaNSMt0CMOMoGR03nlDcxjbjYKlA3rpHxHYA8u6Fg_4n8j52zmyLEfMXvkwKojaKt6VHn3o6kPbB7ABYqdw0en098VbZTA5drjZrtKGEPhmphXQ10vpUDM_gU=s320" width="213" /></a></b><br />
</p><h3 style="text-align: left;">And now, we are delighted to have author Lori Robbins stop by for a chat!</h3><p><b>RD: When did you start writing? Did you always know you wanted to be a writer, or did you stumble into it later in life?</b><br /><br />LR: My first career was as a dancer, and the second was as a high school English teacher. Like many voracious readers, I always knew I wanted to be a writer, but it definitely took a while before that dream came true. My hero is Frank McCourt, who, after a long career as a high school English teacher, published Angela’s Ashes at the age of sixty-six. I figured if Frank could do it, so could I. <br /><br />Over the years I wrote character sketches, parts of stories, and two terrible novels. All of that writing was good practice for when I began my first mystery, about five years ago. I’ve since written three books and am under contract for three more.<br /><b><br />RD: What are your books about and who is the audience?</b><br /><br />LR: Leah Siderova, the protagonist of my On Pointe Mystery series, is a thirty-something ballerina, who dances with a fictional ballet company based in New York City. <br /><br />I’m a former professional dancer, and the books are filled with inside information about that very competitive world, although you don’t have to know a single thing about ballet to enjoy them! My readers, like me, enjoy traditional mysteries with more than a little humor.<br /><br />Lesson Plan for Murder is the first book in my Master Class Mystery series. The protagonist is a crime fighting English teacher. Each chapter begins with the title of a famous book, which doubles as a clue to the mystery. That work is being rereleased by Level Best Books in June 2022, as part of a three book series.<br /><br />All of my books feature amateur sleuths. I think part of what makes this genre so satisfying is that an ordinary person is given the opportunity to do extraordinary things. But the books aren’t one dimensional. In Murder in Second Position, for example, Leah’s quest takes place externally, in the context of a murder investigation, but it takes place internally as well. She learns there’s more to life, and to her, than being onstage.<br /><br /><br /><b>RD: What is the best thing about being a writer?</b><br /><br />LR: Because I write in the first person, I get to live, quite vicariously, through my characters. They’re a lot funnier and wittier than I am, and they’re far braver than I am. I love how they take on a life of their own, which includes the ability to surprise me, even though I’m the one who brought them to life.<br /><b><br />RD: If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?</b><br /><br />LR: Paris is at the top of the list. I visit that beautiful city every year, and I’m looking forward to returning. I love the language as well, although it doesn’t love me back. My accent owes a lot more to Brooklyn than to France.<br />This love of all things French has made its way into most of my writing and has been the inspiration for several characters.<br /><br /><br /><b>RD: If there’s a spider in the corner of the room, do you a) panic, b) have to drop everything until it is removed, or c) hope it’s planning to eat the more annoying bugs that get in?</b><br /><br />LR: Thanks to Charlotte and her web, I’ve got a soft spot for spiders, as long as there aren’t too many of them. And I do encourage them to eat mosquitoes. This forbearance does not extend to creatures of the six-legged variety.<br /><br />I will admit, though, if the spider crawled on me, as opposed to the floor or the wall, I would shriek madly and stomp mercilessly.<br /><br /><b><br />RD: Do you use a detailed outline before you start writing, or... ?</b><br /><br />LR: I think detailed outlines are the best way to plot and plan a mystery. And someday I’ll write one. In the meantime, I’ll continue with my hybrid model. I begin with a character list and the characters’ relationships with each other. I then write a skeleton outline, which is constantly getting revised. For Murder in Second Position, a completely new character waltzed into the novel, and I love her so much she’s returning in book three.<br /><br />In this book, as in the first installment, I tagged the wrong person as the murderer and had to rewrite quite a bit of text. I might have to rethink my earlier answer about the best thing about being a writer, because there are few things more exciting than being surprised by the story you yourself are writing.</p><p><br /><b>RD: I love that answer, and am glad to know I'm not the only one with that problem. Before you go, is there anything else you would like your readers to know about you?</b><br /><br />LR: My husband and I have six kids, which I realize sounds excessive. People often ask what we were thinking. And the answer is that at the time, rational thought was the last thing on our minds.<br /><br />Now that the kids are mostly grown up, I can’t imagine what my life would be like if we’d been more like the very prudent people we admire.<br /><br />As I was framing my response to this question, I realized my writing is a lot like my family life. I didn’t plot out every detail. And there were more than a few surprises along the way.<br /><br />But it all worked out just fine in the end.</p><p><b>Thanks for stopping by, and have a great time with the next book!</b></p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><b><br /></b><h3 style="text-align: left;">About the Author:</h3>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Brooklyn-born <b>Lori Robbins</b> began dancing at age 16 and launched her professional career three years later. She studied modern dance at the Martha Graham School and ballet at the New York Conservatory of Dance. Robbins performed with a number of dance companies, including Ballet Hispanico, the Des Moines Ballet, and the St. Louis Concert Ballet. After ten very lean years as a dancer she attended Hunter College, graduating summa cum laude with a major in British Literature and a minor in Classics.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">The opening book in her On Pointe Mystery Series, Murder in First Position, won the Indie Book Award for Best Mystery, was a finalist for a Silver Falchion, and is currently on the short list for a Mystery & Mayhem Book Award. Murder in Second Position will be released November 23, 2021. Her debut mystery, Lesson Plan for Murder, won the Silver Falchion for Best Cozy Mystery and was a finalist in the Readers’ Choice and Indie Book Awards. It will be re-released in June 2022. She authored two short stories in 2021: “Accidents Happen” in Mystery Most Diabolical, and “Leading Ladies” in Justice for All. She is an expert in the homicidal impulses everyday life inspires.</p>
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Author Links</b><b><a href="https://www.lorirobbins.com/" rel="noopener" target="_blank">Webpage</a> <a href="https://www.facebook.com/LoriRobbinsMysteries" rel="noopener" target="_blank">Facebook</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/lorirobbins99" rel="noopener" target="_blank">Twitter</a> <a href="https://www.instagram.com/lorirobbinsmysteries/" rel="noopener" target="_blank">Instagram</a> <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/profile/lori-robbins" rel="noopener" target="_blank">BookBub</a> <a href="https://www.amazon.com/author/lorirobbins.com" rel="noopener" target="_blank">Amazon Author Link</a> <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16007362.Lori_Robbins" rel="noopener" target="_blank">Goodreads Link</a> </b><br /><b>Purchase Link - <a href="https://amzn.to/3HNwYhc" rel="noopener" target="_blank">Amazon</a> </b><br /></div>
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</p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-36391503818700971502022-01-03T00:00:00.021-08:002022-01-03T00:00:00.188-08:00Flash Fiction: One-Eyed Yak<p>This is a story written for the amusement of my trekking group in Nepal, using some very random prompts they gave me. I'll put the prompts at the end of the story! It was a great way to spend a couple of afternoons, and was meant only to be a bit of goofy entertainment. I'm sharing it here as a supplement to the photo posts on Nepal!</p><p><br /></p><h3 style="text-align: left;">One-Eyed Yak</h3><p><br />High above a wildly scenic lake way up in the Himalayas, a hermit lived in a cave with hand-painted walls.<br /><br />Elbert Pumpernickel was not a happy hermit who had chosen the life of isolation and deprivation from religious or spiritual motives. He was in fact embittered, broke, and on the run. Or he had been on the run, until he came to the end of the trail at the cave above the lake. Now he was stalled, trapped, and more bitter than ever against the cause of his ruin.<br /><br />None of the problems he had were his fault, of course. It was certainly not his fault he was stuck on this mountain, with nothing to do all day but stare down the valley at the lake, which he hadn’t yet realized was beautiful, because he was too busy being bitter. His bitterness, like everything else that had gone wrong in his life, was his parents’ fault.<br /><br />It wasn’t that they failed to love him, though he had no real reason to believe they did, either. No, it was all their fault because they had named him Elbert Pumpernickel (though the surname, he admitted in his more reasonable moments, wasn’t actually their fault, they hadn’t done very well with it).<br /><br />The torment had begun early. After months of staring at the lake he decided his course toward this cave on the mountain was set in motion by the teasing he received from the moment he started school and first began to interact with other children. Exactly why “Elbert” should be a risible name is unclear, but there it was. Six years of “Elmo-Bert” and “Elbow” had softened him up for four years of high school. There, aside from jokes about pastrami sandwiches, the torment consisted mainly of a universal cold shoulder. That, and a periodic dunking in the nearest garbage can, something that was all too possible because his parents had also failed to provide the genes that would have made him large and muscular.<br /><br />There were also the stinky feet. Even the kindest and most pitying of the girls left him at the sock hops when they became aware of the rotten-cheese smell wafting from Elbert’s socks. When word of that got around, being dumped in the garbage can would be accompanied by an explanation that that was what you did with spoiled cheese and stale bread.<br /><br />Later, as an initiation rite for a college fraternity that turned out not to exist, Elbert had stolen the makings for enough s’mores for his floor of the dorm. Out of that venture, he had gotten one marshmallow, and a knock on his door from the police before he had time to roast it. He did manage to stuff the evidence in his mouth before they cuffed him.<br /><br />The CCTV had caught his face, a so-called friend fingered him, and there he was with a court date and an insulting fifty-dollar bail, which he’d still had to borrow from the coke machine in the student union.<br /><br />Unable to face the shame and humiliation, not of being sent up, but of being sent up for stealing marshmallows, Elbert fled.<br /><br />Where a young man of normal upbringing and sense might have fled to another state, Elbert concluded his life was over. Once he started running, he just kept going.<br /><br />When he finally stopped running, Elbert was in Nepal, in a cave overlooking a lake at an absurd elevation. He had traded his jeans for a set of monk’s robes and his fringed buckskin jacket for a set of down pants and parka, and he managed to convince the locals, if not himself, that he was on a holy quest. The locals shrugged, having seen this before, and expected to find him shivering on their doorsteps any day.<br /><br />After three years in his cave, Elbert had begun to paint the walls in psychedelic designs with pigments made from ground rocks. He had also learned to sit motionless and gaze down the valley at the lake for three hours at a time, and was working on making it four. In short, he was adapting, though he didn’t realize it and still bitterly resented his parents and his fate.<br /><br />When the one-eyed yak began hanging around the cave in the fourth year, Elbert found the final link to the peace he hadn’t known he sought. <br /><br />It took another three years, but in the end, Elbert and the yak became friends. The yak was the first friend Elbert had ever had, and he loved it more than he had ever loved his parents. He named the yak “Pumpernickel” in an ironic nod to his parents, and lovingly combed its hair daily.<br /><br />Elbert didn’t return to the US until the yak died of old age, and every bit of the cave walls was re-painted in portraits of the love of his life, the yak who never minded about his smelly feet. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjWUVwpVpROvqhSGnaIUOdvJROk0TdTuU6_TWjRaQDQewPYBcVCAI1yYaPljMIt0Xqiu3PjyIdFU_MYi_5Y1oM7LzPe8g5b4RHwzPFI1g1nJv_G-Xj0RlVy47jewsiJ_79nRl7SMDD5xsiRHq0E1p67D2pCcjt2bgrM_QMLCg00Lgyi2qHEnlIcywk=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjWUVwpVpROvqhSGnaIUOdvJROk0TdTuU6_TWjRaQDQewPYBcVCAI1yYaPljMIt0Xqiu3PjyIdFU_MYi_5Y1oM7LzPe8g5b4RHwzPFI1g1nJv_G-Xj0RlVy47jewsiJ_79nRl7SMDD5xsiRHq0E1p67D2pCcjt2bgrM_QMLCg00Lgyi2qHEnlIcywk=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not a one-eyed yak.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Here are the prompts I was given:</p><p>
</p><p class="Body">—smelly feet</p>
<p class="Body">—marshmallows</p>
<p class="Body">—A man named Elbert who thinks all his misfortunes are due to
being named Elbert</p>
<p class="Body">—A one-eyed yak</p>
<p class="Body">—looking down the valley for 3 hours</p>
<p class="Body">—a mountain lake</p><p> </p><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><div> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</div><div><br /></div><div><span>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by </span><a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" style="-apple-color-filter: none; color: var(--accent-color) !important; text-decoration: underline !important;" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a><span>. <br /></span></div></div><p> </p><p><style>@font-face
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{page:WordSection1;}</style><br /><br /></p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-27730570844873133562021-12-31T00:00:00.208-08:002021-12-31T00:00:00.169-08:00Photo Friday: Nepal Trek Part III: Up the Imje Khola River to Pangboche<p>If you are just joining the blog, here are the earlier posts that will set the scene:<br /><a href="https://www.ninjalibrarian.com/2021/12/photo-friday-kathmandu.html" target="_blank">Kathmandu</a><br /><a href="https://www.ninjalibrarian.com/2021/12/photo-friday-trekking-in-nepal-part-i.html">Trek Part I: Lukla to Namche</a><br /><a href="https://www.ninjalibrarian.com/2021/12/merry-xmas-and-another-photo-report.html" target="_blank">Trek Part II: Namche to Khunde</a></p><p>Also, I'm aware that it's New Year's Eve. Have a great time, and a better 2022.</p><p style="text-align: left;">Trekking Day 5:<br />We left Khunde and walked down through the neighboring town of Khumjung, stopping at the monastery where a multi-day ceremony was taking place to honor a dead elder of the community.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiNKLbKwqefnD4VJIB8Bnhe19ID1U2geDfdcAOQBJPwn6Xu09MK_-_D5IDh7guXnLYBmFPWOCDNZOzn_Fa-2gakUoaXuokybCMMNGYLh_RusghRGW2tbmd5LAYVzJLJTx6EN5aWDObRZEvP4fSFYLcz5AQmUDg2XL-SwwstFgU8jPiW01xP8cD49KI=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiNKLbKwqefnD4VJIB8Bnhe19ID1U2geDfdcAOQBJPwn6Xu09MK_-_D5IDh7guXnLYBmFPWOCDNZOzn_Fa-2gakUoaXuokybCMMNGYLh_RusghRGW2tbmd5LAYVzJLJTx6EN5aWDObRZEvP4fSFYLcz5AQmUDg2XL-SwwstFgU8jPiW01xP8cD49KI=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking towards Khumjang<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>The monastery where the ceremony was taking place.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgv4rHVmU5VLtegDpL9qzDfsBwDMqo6rtzcQxfOrr1pYvhi8sQ7wa8SiHcsGesnzj0sZW-ZpVONoVksI1g9TwYPqO3iFbXmPyasrUsugnoOLwZ0iKKYlHUtwBL085eB6X-frxg11o7ge6vLz03DEUp3TKurK2hQqzA8Z8CdyzAEkg9rMQ7wo76Bfw8=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgv4rHVmU5VLtegDpL9qzDfsBwDMqo6rtzcQxfOrr1pYvhi8sQ7wa8SiHcsGesnzj0sZW-ZpVONoVksI1g9TwYPqO3iFbXmPyasrUsugnoOLwZ0iKKYlHUtwBL085eB6X-frxg11o7ge6vLz03DEUp3TKurK2hQqzA8Z8CdyzAEkg9rMQ7wo76Bfw8=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Khumjang gompa<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjj9oRfxHBqQ-HR64Y4CkPbeOZ_RUH7h2kmUQ6r5l11ESFLJGIJQGt1Rh8gL_BtmlBrG4yokJWm9WUc6HRZDtQaAEJcNOhBA4zAhmxG9fle_6Hkc4CRz9bG_yIptcoZGu9opQCfnRc_AYIm_SbzkeRqOWwww-hBgbEKBoYePQsOWN69YrlhHazCATE=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5472" data-original-width="3648" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjj9oRfxHBqQ-HR64Y4CkPbeOZ_RUH7h2kmUQ6r5l11ESFLJGIJQGt1Rh8gL_BtmlBrG4yokJWm9WUc6HRZDtQaAEJcNOhBA4zAhmxG9fle_6Hkc4CRz9bG_yIptcoZGu9opQCfnRc_AYIm_SbzkeRqOWwww-hBgbEKBoYePQsOWN69YrlhHazCATE=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kim Bannister of Kamzang Journeys giving the large prayer wheel a spin.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>There seemed to be no issues with us taking photos, nor with some coming and going. When I saw that our Bhuddist guide, Lhakpa, was taking pictures, I tried to capture some of the feel of the place. Part of the significance of this gompa is that they have what they claim is the only yeti scalp in existence. I'll skip the close-up.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNtxB9Ast9vvwR2G3ACbdakaevR07ixiGJ2Ba-AKhtueuXttR9jnymAPEgvkTQHzB0P9-cmTr6P3NDv3E8T-f1khq0PN3ghbZT7jEyTHka4E6QwMDJoG90g7cXjNK7S-9EMnKi9y0oKCGnmyq4Ks4VZfsl7qbjLQe2Mpz2zwIA94esRv9ycm93Ixc=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNtxB9Ast9vvwR2G3ACbdakaevR07ixiGJ2Ba-AKhtueuXttR9jnymAPEgvkTQHzB0P9-cmTr6P3NDv3E8T-f1khq0PN3ghbZT7jEyTHka4E6QwMDJoG90g7cXjNK7S-9EMnKi9y0oKCGnmyq4Ks4VZfsl7qbjLQe2Mpz2zwIA94esRv9ycm93Ixc=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeti scalp in the display case.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>Continuing on, we stayed on the high trail above the Dudh Koshi river to climb to Mong La and on to Phortse.</p><p style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhikF-1PGjALiRWxFlu-nNlGXFd_RYmcwx_UveomIINWlJorzO7efiYXYuS5yjtNmaHQAALJ2GE2X1x4vg2gqNjbbXVljoUb4PpeUwkHYLEb65rfYm-1o6uYEEJEeZKla6zbGYgYf5ehHlVPPPIklHAfh11dtsau3T8NA3efTceZohIIHgKB-IrhoU=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5472" data-original-width="3648" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhikF-1PGjALiRWxFlu-nNlGXFd_RYmcwx_UveomIINWlJorzO7efiYXYuS5yjtNmaHQAALJ2GE2X1x4vg2gqNjbbXVljoUb4PpeUwkHYLEb65rfYm-1o6uYEEJEeZKla6zbGYgYf5ehHlVPPPIklHAfh11dtsau3T8NA3efTceZohIIHgKB-IrhoU=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A glimpse of the very well-built trail. Zooming in showed us that we had a lot of steps to climb. Ama Dablam (22,349'/6812 meters) is prominent in the distance.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Climbing toward Mong La ("la" means pass, but in this case it was more the high point passing over a shoulder of the mountain), with our day's destination visible in the distance.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_eyrxAUCUJWRvphYFTfmFAVpYjsMKw8U78Qi2CvIU2exM_nYnu0Po4oDodyEpyldKWsCUcJ-PFpHIcYM55Vx1xK57n3Y-erzQKxUp_p_NzPDU5Zj1XGST2T_SIxYSjEszWbKjqzC8Be6jYUcyVxXWofd6gP5HexS-6uoVT_gcpWFOMq0fhJn5Kuo=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi_eyrxAUCUJWRvphYFTfmFAVpYjsMKw8U78Qi2CvIU2exM_nYnu0Po4oDodyEpyldKWsCUcJ-PFpHIcYM55Vx1xK57n3Y-erzQKxUp_p_NzPDU5Zj1XGST2T_SIxYSjEszWbKjqzC8Be6jYUcyVxXWofd6gP5HexS-6uoVT_gcpWFOMq0fhJn5Kuo=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At this point in the trip, the weather was still warm, as we were at "only" about 12,500'. That didn't feel low until much later in the trip!<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>After a tasty lunch at the Mong La Mountain View Lodge and Restaurant ("If you stay here you can see good view from here"), we continued on past the stupa, clockwise of course.<br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhua7m9XC887Er3xB4kryuVWNS9SPnNornv4NaybSZb1SL4Cobc9cTuzIrxt8sGTV_poTczLo-KJ_kUdrNHGh5LNYjKvmefuYVjmWOobuMPJuUHJiDpzdlIpu6UgeJPQ-nS-60wwvx9cvyO8OzJ_R9uzDTIa8EB1EVjoT03mz0MoKapwRXGPw-beD4=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhua7m9XC887Er3xB4kryuVWNS9SPnNornv4NaybSZb1SL4Cobc9cTuzIrxt8sGTV_poTczLo-KJ_kUdrNHGh5LNYjKvmefuYVjmWOobuMPJuUHJiDpzdlIpu6UgeJPQ-nS-60wwvx9cvyO8OzJ_R9uzDTIa8EB1EVjoT03mz0MoKapwRXGPw-beD4=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><p>We had great views of Phortse, which wasn't far off. Only... yeah, we had to drop several hundred feet to cross the Dudh Koshi river, coming in from the left from Gokyo. We will follow the Imje Khola up the valley to the right, towards Ama Dablam.<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSGyPY2xiQw4c0fuXidMu3MgR3qN5Q4ZARthu_9Wy35CjB0Q9yu376GuWz2ZlqgDrUI0htOY4Ty2Aedy--F9tI0AlUXRB9L3Y8vdHYNOQOPTzcVpS1pzEiRyZFweZzXxVbkZJrs-EJrHe_CPdC1H8fwkrt56ZvqH60mNuvis23V2TVxwGgtn9_DmA=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSGyPY2xiQw4c0fuXidMu3MgR3qN5Q4ZARthu_9Wy35CjB0Q9yu376GuWz2ZlqgDrUI0htOY4Ty2Aedy--F9tI0AlUXRB9L3Y8vdHYNOQOPTzcVpS1pzEiRyZFweZzXxVbkZJrs-EJrHe_CPdC1H8fwkrt56ZvqH60mNuvis23V2TVxwGgtn9_DmA=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p>Cool trivia bit: volleyball is big in the Khumbu, and while we were in Phortse, the Khumbu tournament was going on a short way below our lodge. We heard later that Phortse took the championship.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivxtlvO4uqFwe8knw0_vCmebvX9zeWVyy_XXokWJp7ZaAzmwbaes-cpeXEMYPBmuonPMU1ycF3xu_cTmPRtc8biSt-0sApMJsZJ2VZeH3UI8sOx62mqEx2vMDLRsqU5V9mLi3oG_oyVWLAtfAtxAA2hd5tqV1s9E-LsC7Qn9sJiziq1Il1EkFTtS0=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5472" data-original-width="3648" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivxtlvO4uqFwe8knw0_vCmebvX9zeWVyy_XXokWJp7ZaAzmwbaes-cpeXEMYPBmuonPMU1ycF3xu_cTmPRtc8biSt-0sApMJsZJ2VZeH3UI8sOx62mqEx2vMDLRsqU5V9mLi3oG_oyVWLAtfAtxAA2hd5tqV1s9E-LsC7Qn9sJiziq1Il1EkFTtS0=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arriving in Phortse. The villages have suddenly gotten much smaller.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>Day 6: Phortse to Pangboche<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiI5B-g3Ms2fQECCnf4b5zzW4nfXlvDIo1iw9tzR6ZPkTtQtOx8XM9t8M2ktuFNE-4_wkifGt_uQSXhML6baw9w8GFAeNlwUpC61CibnECmm-CwMkY9naHHpTdwPjGWqkGPQd-aPkgCiA52-d7CY3S2_7BFQZeohsXe6V_mCGcuU19b3sRSPMLGngY=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiI5B-g3Ms2fQECCnf4b5zzW4nfXlvDIo1iw9tzR6ZPkTtQtOx8XM9t8M2ktuFNE-4_wkifGt_uQSXhML6baw9w8GFAeNlwUpC61CibnECmm-CwMkY9naHHpTdwPjGWqkGPQd-aPkgCiA52-d7CY3S2_7BFQZeohsXe6V_mCGcuU19b3sRSPMLGngY=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking out of Phortse in the morning. The view is up the Dudh Koshi (towards Gokyo).</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgf592ehG8YU7y-9liXjHRjsKK1LI4N9_Yv0HGkMUAtBMmEdr_qEYeMeiyaX8dPWY-apcKIZOzKd33_uieAaPzDXDpgd6dmZto4n4oypLTq-Wn-WdtzkimHjTfyvLdt8RUYUnua9DncXcQV73PphfK6YW3qK-REWnVTj1ulRsbOnSRq2XdDtAobDlE=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5472" data-original-width="3648" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgf592ehG8YU7y-9liXjHRjsKK1LI4N9_Yv0HGkMUAtBMmEdr_qEYeMeiyaX8dPWY-apcKIZOzKd33_uieAaPzDXDpgd6dmZto4n4oypLTq-Wn-WdtzkimHjTfyvLdt8RUYUnua9DncXcQV73PphfK6YW3qK-REWnVTj1ulRsbOnSRq2XdDtAobDlE=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The route had its ups and downs, but was never short of scenery.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p> Thanks to recent efforts to contain and remove trash, the trails were remarkably clean. But those blasted plastic bags get everywhere. My son had enough extra energy (thanks to being the only member of the party under 50, I think) to do a little rescue work. Skip the plastic, folks!<br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0tq2b5VpRcSXGMfHNZxSD7I2vKYeaTmUFnRkaXATZuOdTt4a9TFGDhxNWQWOK4ZIW8squDppqVePI2dpG5yHufpwP2b1sqkITNiVcKpscFqO-O_wj-BZMz_n9gHDTMaW9lCt8J98qGWYETAlAsSNO_bSlLzmw0F8NDUxvaQICkjolVKxkUAulqok=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0tq2b5VpRcSXGMfHNZxSD7I2vKYeaTmUFnRkaXATZuOdTt4a9TFGDhxNWQWOK4ZIW8squDppqVePI2dpG5yHufpwP2b1sqkITNiVcKpscFqO-O_wj-BZMz_n9gHDTMaW9lCt8J98qGWYETAlAsSNO_bSlLzmw0F8NDUxvaQICkjolVKxkUAulqok=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhQfSO7RdAolIfUXYg_mTu_J4e-5fuwZxMN2ZJPovYNj8qeiaI1PtkDAJkfY0vJb2LNYFD-N34XqOUhnpteainrKFfumTVNuM0iWEQX74kvZqw7n15EUzyY3bD6uNkg-8JLLKT5wJVWQBTYnKrya8uFDjskb1jvA9h5hrJGo_NWK_1uixOVhTVph4I=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhQfSO7RdAolIfUXYg_mTu_J4e-5fuwZxMN2ZJPovYNj8qeiaI1PtkDAJkfY0vJb2LNYFD-N34XqOUhnpteainrKFfumTVNuM0iWEQX74kvZqw7n15EUzyY3bD6uNkg-8JLLKT5wJVWQBTYnKrya8uFDjskb1jvA9h5hrJGo_NWK_1uixOVhTVph4I=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ama Dablam, Lhotse, and our destination (Pangboche) in the valley below<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>Descending through Upper Pangboche, past the monastery, with Ama Dablam looming over everything.<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjuw5-C1eutP5xO54pukJa8mP0qImsHxY3ipg8DmoqHpGgfNy9mtfQ7lv7avvdHOEJl5irC2cohvsjbBsUF81SC-EkHdOd8n9axSa5MRMosr9jUkCSoeF7sbCCKUmBqjyPseqitkU0HI9W96iJjGEYi9Sge9qjJ76Hogks5QPvi3RcdN2gVDtkJk0U=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjuw5-C1eutP5xO54pukJa8mP0qImsHxY3ipg8DmoqHpGgfNy9mtfQ7lv7avvdHOEJl5irC2cohvsjbBsUF81SC-EkHdOd8n9axSa5MRMosr9jUkCSoeF7sbCCKUmBqjyPseqitkU0HI9W96iJjGEYi9Sge9qjJ76Hogks5QPvi3RcdN2gVDtkJk0U=w480-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg9HvUbfsZCx8QGiuhxFql7L9nS6qJ2odSKH48G7nzizNgYZlzet8x9VRdtl_1irVqWRioYvsUW6h3q8QyZc8QYhGgR4gPBKa9CDe5UNVDuX0GuSQBMEU2I55zlv2tRbw7jgb88umjE9CaEIqrChoAWfUgcWErNajjqXy-TSC-kmNbG8WeNjETUWkM=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg9HvUbfsZCx8QGiuhxFql7L9nS6qJ2odSKH48G7nzizNgYZlzet8x9VRdtl_1irVqWRioYvsUW6h3q8QyZc8QYhGgR4gPBKa9CDe5UNVDuX0GuSQBMEU2I55zlv2tRbw7jgb88umjE9CaEIqrChoAWfUgcWErNajjqXy-TSC-kmNbG8WeNjETUWkM=w480-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shining copper prayer wheels at the Pangboche monastery.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Always happy to arrive at our lodge! Some members of the party went back out to tour the town; I enjoyed a hottish shower in an almost-warm room.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUbIGPgadSt24i1w-WGOLc8rrfqhj-5cwdSXj40haunVg8pEphAoFCWUMwusS0pPXGK8g4IfyJ_SmGo-olt5UJkVU9Tnq7jRJ9J65yVaEq57xSsWleeOAuN-AV2WHEkeSif5WiWjzelYCWmenasE7Yjh6vSc6L-KKMb__HCfuJOc_f5IwlA3ub8Q4=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiUbIGPgadSt24i1w-WGOLc8rrfqhj-5cwdSXj40haunVg8pEphAoFCWUMwusS0pPXGK8g4IfyJ_SmGo-olt5UJkVU9Tnq7jRJ9J65yVaEq57xSsWleeOAuN-AV2WHEkeSif5WiWjzelYCWmenasE7Yjh6vSc6L-KKMb__HCfuJOc_f5IwlA3ub8Q4=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from the dining room<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />We were to spend 2 nights here, with a visit to Ama Dablam base camp on the layover day, so it was laundry time! Washing clothes in icy water by hand was made slightly easier by the rubber kitchen gloves I had thought to take. It still took ages to thaw my fingers afterwards.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjpKhN-kGj1lGlNdvVPMwbzt320Ns6cbc91o-OqzxyuQ5451k0OSGsyDOziGcYFf-QeKckn1WyRpfrjz-2N9ACImtSfvy6nrsi_voCP1CjoYdzULHlNBOR7OyF8AmAninELXt_rcYI5VMi_5kXfTINshlI0BCD7HpZO0sVAp0HZhzNGahi09PR4C88=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjpKhN-kGj1lGlNdvVPMwbzt320Ns6cbc91o-OqzxyuQ5451k0OSGsyDOziGcYFf-QeKckn1WyRpfrjz-2N9ACImtSfvy6nrsi_voCP1CjoYdzULHlNBOR7OyF8AmAninELXt_rcYI5VMi_5kXfTINshlI0BCD7HpZO0sVAp0HZhzNGahi09PR4C88=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our laundry line. Most of that was frozen before it was dry.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><h3 style="text-align: center;">Happy New Year!</h3><h3 style="text-align: center;">Notice: I expect the blog to migrate to my new web site January 6, with double posts on January 5th. Watch this space next week for more information, and/or <a href="https://ninjalibrarian.us11.list-manage.com/subscribe/post?u=37e220fd5512ef8f35ab7edf1&id=81c9243b37" target="_blank">sign up for my newsletter</a> for a reminder!<br /></h3><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg58J6zx-FibzNgCETSY5f-PYae_Qs98fqGcdvBcNzsqts5oOtJhXqK5uIXvpn7V2nNwyQzRTlUYlTyVkY9lMmg_UXSY1DY09FFWSDCUdV0_NLkSRLDCD_AAkiSXjvQuIU0JdT30ERUJntOCribDyNI4SN_CNJQWUZSbU8OVE3wF3DAYWMhp831_lE=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg58J6zx-FibzNgCETSY5f-PYae_Qs98fqGcdvBcNzsqts5oOtJhXqK5uIXvpn7V2nNwyQzRTlUYlTyVkY9lMmg_UXSY1DY09FFWSDCUdV0_NLkSRLDCD_AAkiSXjvQuIU0JdT30ERUJntOCribDyNI4SN_CNJQWUZSbU8OVE3wF3DAYWMhp831_lE=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.847); font-family: -apple-system-font; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><div> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</div><div><br /></div><div><span>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by </span><a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" style="-apple-color-filter: none; color: var(--accent-color) !important; text-decoration: underline !important;" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a><span>. <br /></span></div></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><br />Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-57021591408733188362021-12-23T00:00:00.009-08:002021-12-23T00:00:00.212-08:00Merry Xmas, and another photo report!<h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Nepal Trek, Part II: Namche to Khunde</span></h3><p><span style="font-size: medium;">In our last, we had arrived in Namche (often called Namche Bazaar, but the locals have moved away from that name) and found our sunset blocked by the fog. Fortunately, when my son and I dragged ourselves out of bed at 5:30 to check the sunrise, we were better rewarded.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5kNSD85FSbe780b_7vqg-229-_9K01EVjB43CuA7-o11-248l_ckw2dCIfDCMEYZll4fdVvyAA_UpgcQI-efVZcoJ-7VtvYhbV_isND-E1e6cBs4SUJbdFjjBQuK_Yij35huwajsmFqenGwcmqkqryypg6fZ_FVq_XU_cDqvEl-HUVKV3fOOvM4k=s5472" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh5kNSD85FSbe780b_7vqg-229-_9K01EVjB43CuA7-o11-248l_ckw2dCIfDCMEYZll4fdVvyAA_UpgcQI-efVZcoJ-7VtvYhbV_isND-E1e6cBs4SUJbdFjjBQuK_Yij35huwajsmFqenGwcmqkqryypg6fZ_FVq_XU_cDqvEl-HUVKV3fOOvM4k=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kongde Ri from the Everest viewpoint<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgDgbTShP1Za_6xWJb8yvcShaYZSrXyrt8iG6901EjnRQJpsLOPH5HcQ2o_a5EV0-V0mnX2hPIbmoWuczTFQBEZLpMWy21HsJK5xMFmNoKTjl7zBc9OqCkgHFewtfto3UD2p-qGb7scBX0Jo-l67IJjYBN7E0gtTtKrvLTpIked891lvVI8Os_UJu4=s5472" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgDgbTShP1Za_6xWJb8yvcShaYZSrXyrt8iG6901EjnRQJpsLOPH5HcQ2o_a5EV0-V0mnX2hPIbmoWuczTFQBEZLpMWy21HsJK5xMFmNoKTjl7zBc9OqCkgHFewtfto3UD2p-qGb7scBX0Jo-l67IJjYBN7E0gtTtKrvLTpIked891lvVI8Os_UJu4=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The viewpoint above Namche is also the Tenzing Norgay memorial. His statue shows him holding up his ice axe with the flag attached. The summit of Everest is just visible over the ridge of Nuptse and Lhotse.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiL8-Q6xaRPd6DVhoa8eQwjlcDZayKwaipyJefOPd61bscgmaS1kYXc9PVrFdjZ_t63-83APWK5V7O-F_afEF_Qc5j_2FzJ5xpWxwAbuDMb5uaj4F-K6_PSKOVFHpNlQOUUq2M68tCFTfUq-kZxzXbrrgt8dBfSobSLM0-X1mw-gYysbrDx8In8bgE=s5472" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiL8-Q6xaRPd6DVhoa8eQwjlcDZayKwaipyJefOPd61bscgmaS1kYXc9PVrFdjZ_t63-83APWK5V7O-F_afEF_Qc5j_2FzJ5xpWxwAbuDMb5uaj4F-K6_PSKOVFHpNlQOUUq2M68tCFTfUq-kZxzXbrrgt8dBfSobSLM0-X1mw-gYysbrDx8In8bgE=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Returning to the hotel, with Kongde out in full glory.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjK571voCqtFmlShZyf1yOG5O3GPl3PU-YIWyIBy_onx6H7hf_rBG7gMblJ3Ls5SzuDgAm7fUnCx-QQSKy8_X2fpEwOBkKy3IbvWFYVxryR0W57Z-JRBmsaZzXYiuvud6huW7ohOdFOIqr_EjaKjSlJlKrM0JWuMHKuugGxWKbH86DGjH_s4Jrzji4=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjK571voCqtFmlShZyf1yOG5O3GPl3PU-YIWyIBy_onx6H7hf_rBG7gMblJ3Ls5SzuDgAm7fUnCx-QQSKy8_X2fpEwOBkKy3IbvWFYVxryR0W57Z-JRBmsaZzXYiuvud6huW7ohOdFOIqr_EjaKjSlJlKrM0JWuMHKuugGxWKbH86DGjH_s4Jrzji4=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Moonlight Lodge, Namche. Being only a long day's walk from the airport (11 miles, which we did in 2 days), it was nicer and better supplied than most of the lodges we stayed at.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;">With schools centralized in the larger towns, many of the children have to board during the school term. The Namche boarding house was right below our hotel, and as we prepared to leave the children were getting ready for school.<br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhjQrA2KOAmjAVq6ne81BJDC0i3S34vdLigNbKFUs9DOusLqnLVLSR-C9gvUSKz_6WxYb1zmjxtK01wETAZlytKVd3ENc9rjjI5zG1vo1xK28GXUxv5yqqGR3uNK7Yn0A66uo3d1r0e8aJ9FU2IuVGbMP79v51-fkFXLkGPij5bn_2Le5W006gbbIg=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhjQrA2KOAmjAVq6ne81BJDC0i3S34vdLigNbKFUs9DOusLqnLVLSR-C9gvUSKz_6WxYb1zmjxtK01wETAZlytKVd3ENc9rjjI5zG1vo1xK28GXUxv5yqqGR3uNK7Yn0A66uo3d1r0e8aJ9FU2IuVGbMP79v51-fkFXLkGPij5bn_2Le5W006gbbIg=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They wore smart uniforms, and housemothers are helping braid the hair of the younger girls.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />All students are taught English from a young age, it being the <i>lingua franca </i>of Nepal, as it were. We met several fairly young children who spoke English very well. The Namche school, and several others in the Khumbu (the Everest region), was founded by Sir Edmond Hillary.<br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjlx-SyvM8MmCw1RMw2FsLKR7w0JIc3Ihcuj3v4d9Y4xXsEwT_KR_rF1bWqx6USSzM3srQYObYchG_7ZKKj8fe3UkV-1S6dw3Fx6eYjVtfAc8k3uBKYD7JS-U3zKKW2FVlogrFgEj2EJNm7TI3YNs0kOvauqgYpcQTsHjE9zsNFwBadVP90yJy9vnQ=s5472" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5472" data-original-width="3648" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjlx-SyvM8MmCw1RMw2FsLKR7w0JIc3Ihcuj3v4d9Y4xXsEwT_KR_rF1bWqx6USSzM3srQYObYchG_7ZKKj8fe3UkV-1S6dw3Fx6eYjVtfAc8k3uBKYD7JS-U3zKKW2FVlogrFgEj2EJNm7TI3YNs0kOvauqgYpcQTsHjE9zsNFwBadVP90yJy9vnQ=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass 2021" width="426" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Students clearly had numbers (as did we, come to think of it. I was #4,
my son #5, and our bags and meals were handled by number). I counted
about 70 toothbrushes on the rack, making it clear why numbers were
important.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />Leaving town, we headed pretty much straight on up the ridge, passing a chorten (a sort of a shrine) on the ridge.<br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhBiszRBRluEveTVU-KsYASSDCII3FOdURj7Ve0hX4rMupsOVm2XZcllMhRWdrjNu2UuERXlVQnf1vWBU5tI1dtdKrCGNKLpAVzvV8tuNpROJmMsCXlEpzxtJVf09FIag_Ja4o-9GlPwW7OH6ksNLktgcgo53RjL3jXz9gRVYkSYLNwvHZ-Iv9GS7w=s4032" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhBiszRBRluEveTVU-KsYASSDCII3FOdURj7Ve0hX4rMupsOVm2XZcllMhRWdrjNu2UuERXlVQnf1vWBU5tI1dtdKrCGNKLpAVzvV8tuNpROJmMsCXlEpzxtJVf09FIag_Ja4o-9GlPwW7OH6ksNLktgcgo53RjL3jXz9gRVYkSYLNwvHZ-Iv9GS7w=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass 2021" width="640" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Nearly to the top, we stopped to learn more about <a href="https://www.sagarmathanext.com" target="_blank">Sagharmatha Next</a>, which is working to create more sustainable tourism in the Khumbu. The buildings being constructed on the hill above Namche will house art studios and artists, local and international, who will work to create art from the waste stream. In addition, the organization is working with the Park on a waste management plan, and will be rolling out "Carry Me Back," a new initiative to enlist trekkers and guides to help carry the waste back to Lukla for removal.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4VoowyS9DbxxxR5VnClV9ulm1b7-_I2KWgLvjMgOPUDYVtz7pdwdmGMk6PpYC8z9HJ4fgUMQUL9N0KK1h_WLQmXi7U2Ine8od7cmGKMw4wcxhxcWVhrn5ssh2PxFiHaY1bdh-tv1lN2Gs5FLqNYaFohtmVXR1YtsU9rsbtRZ0e__VgbC2haprN6s=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4VoowyS9DbxxxR5VnClV9ulm1b7-_I2KWgLvjMgOPUDYVtz7pdwdmGMk6PpYC8z9HJ4fgUMQUL9N0KK1h_WLQmXi7U2Ine8od7cmGKMw4wcxhxcWVhrn5ssh2PxFiHaY1bdh-tv1lN2Gs5FLqNYaFohtmVXR1YtsU9rsbtRZ0e__VgbC2haprN6s=w480-h640" title="https://www.sagarmathanext.com" width="480" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Project director Tom Gustafsson shows our leader, Kim Bannister, one of the paving stones supporters can soon sponsor to help with the construction. Waste bags (for the carry-out program) will also be for "sale", though at this point that aspect of the web site isn't up and running.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />A short way farther up, and we were atop the ridge with view of Everest (the left-most peak), and Yaks to be dodged. They are adorable, but can be cranky, and those horns are nasty!<br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhDCR7htHfGzNApvzEnm2vGYL7ZUUMQmJXd_zrtOVfN1B1fQ0NFhFPcgFVvth27uDwHzoSb7e73aFDlkyZie-aF6Ks31tleG3hJ9q3oup-Lc2nJYseSFFlaC4_yEeu4RYZcKHfKsjM5ESZJ1L34WT7I8tRNw60dV7cRbe665gNZWt-lkLr3a6ptITI=s5472" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhDCR7htHfGzNApvzEnm2vGYL7ZUUMQmJXd_zrtOVfN1B1fQ0NFhFPcgFVvth27uDwHzoSb7e73aFDlkyZie-aF6Ks31tleG3hJ9q3oup-Lc2nJYseSFFlaC4_yEeu4RYZcKHfKsjM5ESZJ1L34WT7I8tRNw60dV7cRbe665gNZWt-lkLr3a6ptITI=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhTTPoN5lAlUJMs6EEZ07gi4oquAD_ZxCeGY1x4aqriT8N4KA9G04pzFFdXstOVSi9XL-wdSSPj_61bmmr0O_szQywtLW05fcu1olQf1zq_Ythkw2YjnZ039Np0y7hgyA7SWDKDH8UdRs-ZW3RDOIFfXZQ55MuM0wB21_B1Lfo247GyWND27phqWuc=s5472" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhTTPoN5lAlUJMs6EEZ07gi4oquAD_ZxCeGY1x4aqriT8N4KA9G04pzFFdXstOVSi9XL-wdSSPj_61bmmr0O_szQywtLW05fcu1olQf1zq_Ythkw2YjnZ039Np0y7hgyA7SWDKDH8UdRs-ZW3RDOIFfXZQ55MuM0wB21_B1Lfo247GyWND27phqWuc=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Approaching Khunde<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />However fierce yaks may be, a joyous sight for us was seeing our yaks arrive with our luggage.<br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhQJZSvqxc9L8acb6Bo_Ga8BV8Mw4aladaU9QojY6YUq9em3q3lSSBbzBFRqEoBPGW7bskBjrUBMJURH3ZsU4SO30uJWVP-gUnO0Vqs2Q4I9nhHeF29xnCHKEZmwwBAK_8tPl-RjdMfnaDWhtoqO1lHD3_sQf_5ZsEF0uTHQfyMOSXKJUI6DbE3yvI=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhQJZSvqxc9L8acb6Bo_Ga8BV8Mw4aladaU9QojY6YUq9em3q3lSSBbzBFRqEoBPGW7bskBjrUBMJURH3ZsU4SO30uJWVP-gUnO0Vqs2Q4I9nhHeF29xnCHKEZmwwBAK_8tPl-RjdMfnaDWhtoqO1lHD3_sQf_5ZsEF0uTHQfyMOSXKJUI6DbE3yvI=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Yaks arrive at the Khunde Guest House<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj5cTE30PnLHZBNS8ioEa-y71dezP3XmSah0gx_Oyp67vApmgz2hofPAypjjxU03OPuAgyfRcrlPzAUvL-1hk5i91wlb5Ah7oIQX5JYPVVEqKPunXIpi_0t9Ty5vWGYvpHHAEXYLWgGcrVlgw3aIpiOA0IZIVTrVxgEORM9g9jCwOmutgPQQU58TBA=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj5cTE30PnLHZBNS8ioEa-y71dezP3XmSah0gx_Oyp67vApmgz2hofPAypjjxU03OPuAgyfRcrlPzAUvL-1hk5i91wlb5Ah7oIQX5JYPVVEqKPunXIpi_0t9Ty5vWGYvpHHAEXYLWgGcrVlgw3aIpiOA0IZIVTrVxgEORM9g9jCwOmutgPQQU58TBA=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Our room. We provided the 0-degree sleeping bags that made these rooms habitable.</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_P8dpMKRUIMs6cg9KXmIbAJvePEzVA_UxndX-rLFdoeckYRAmthKjSWcxoOWTuSIRad7WoewHZuzmYcXdLCi_fPHqpIW_zcG_bx5M_6eDW6breZU1Fpt1tT6Orc5VEX7ZodKKevLJBo2baffPmvhttW5GYF6AYIWjFVjBOSlWraUXoiessEULfQw=s4032" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg_P8dpMKRUIMs6cg9KXmIbAJvePEzVA_UxndX-rLFdoeckYRAmthKjSWcxoOWTuSIRad7WoewHZuzmYcXdLCi_fPHqpIW_zcG_bx5M_6eDW6breZU1Fpt1tT6Orc5VEX7ZodKKevLJBo2baffPmvhttW5GYF6AYIWjFVjBOSlWraUXoiessEULfQw=w480-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The view from the room was pretty okay, and I could check on the sunrise without getting out of my sleeping bag--always nice when the overnight temps in the room drop below freezing.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;">
Once we'd had a late lunch, we climbed the hill behind town to the Hillary Memorial and a stunning viewpoint.<br />
</span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEghosw7hBth0q1ufOAbeYDZueCD4IpKuzmivkP3sZIm7PTHw-yrnfjn4M0gHeUXGYIUN1cqdW7pGJpJa4cAOdYiQdbfqgxiCayX6FieWdrJOveZNW0oiGqcSV94OZLggM7wroADSR7U17o2C03_60Bw-kJ6NNHQsZezfXThp38picOyrXO0SwJ3oU4=s5472" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEghosw7hBth0q1ufOAbeYDZueCD4IpKuzmivkP3sZIm7PTHw-yrnfjn4M0gHeUXGYIUN1cqdW7pGJpJa4cAOdYiQdbfqgxiCayX6FieWdrJOveZNW0oiGqcSV94OZLggM7wroADSR7U17o2C03_60Bw-kJ6NNHQsZezfXThp38picOyrXO0SwJ3oU4=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Approaching the viewpoint, just past the chortens and prayer flags.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqD_OCP4Ej7u_F0FmqeNnD_yB76t1yjwg_J8RtSoks3MB4zXaZ_FwUjNbCs8ylgHHsHdVAa_zMoGtbQRfQTvS7Py5KLlWHuRy3difcqdUl4DgTz8hYwh_Ak-EA-TvECxsPzz3hWSs43X2D8M1A9X-2BKpEyRJRNZZclQyrnRRwfDMWiuDGefFena4=s5472" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqD_OCP4Ej7u_F0FmqeNnD_yB76t1yjwg_J8RtSoks3MB4zXaZ_FwUjNbCs8ylgHHsHdVAa_zMoGtbQRfQTvS7Py5KLlWHuRy3difcqdUl4DgTz8hYwh_Ak-EA-TvECxsPzz3hWSs43X2D8M1A9X-2BKpEyRJRNZZclQyrnRRwfDMWiuDGefFena4=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The author<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />At the viewpoint, with the fog moving in, we experienced the amazing <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brocken_spectre" target="_blank">Brocken Spectre</a>, which can be seen only when you are above a cloud with the sun behind you (typically from a mountaintop). It's hard to see here, but inside the rainbow halo is my shadow. It looks large because the shadow is actually on the clouds/mist just below me, not on the ground far below.<br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjON7K7gjDBYJDnwONt5tGlUKZOoy3BLKPag9BXX0-Z6gyoaq3SFRiOlGCRWHcYmEg7lN7ImEt0PHJAgdazA548sv5wgg_s0eDjKYNjq38hRbQ95MKkg6ibYtHBZ_wxZxIgrh8kFLPv-6vlEUDVQfyUgW7WMLCd7UQujHnkILlz5eF7crS7aKIlpU8=s5472" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjON7K7gjDBYJDnwONt5tGlUKZOoy3BLKPag9BXX0-Z6gyoaq3SFRiOlGCRWHcYmEg7lN7ImEt0PHJAgdazA548sv5wgg_s0eDjKYNjq38hRbQ95MKkg6ibYtHBZ_wxZxIgrh8kFLPv-6vlEUDVQfyUgW7WMLCd7UQujHnkILlz5eF7crS7aKIlpU8=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a><br /></span></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The fog moved the rest of the way in as we climbed a bit more to the Hillary Memorial, three chortens dedicated to Sir Edmond Hillary, his wife Louisa, and daughter Belinda. The latter two died in a plane crash during the construction of a hospital in the area, sponsored by the family.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3B1E21fQ0S7Vz1fYktJzPI9TuMgNiNihhRGXSzd9ocvU661UnVKxp3wg6nDEOirLhsbI_HplOHwMPnndJ5-s4OROnIP-R-3AVAp1hXKcrpTRSvUwJp7I96LyIp2Ef1k56mCJSyGnLt42fKOSsdyUB3tArokmhmdohyuKBMPLRxji7xi4TBI0w_5o=s5472" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj3B1E21fQ0S7Vz1fYktJzPI9TuMgNiNihhRGXSzd9ocvU661UnVKxp3wg6nDEOirLhsbI_HplOHwMPnndJ5-s4OROnIP-R-3AVAp1hXKcrpTRSvUwJp7I96LyIp2Ef1k56mCJSyGnLt42fKOSsdyUB3tArokmhmdohyuKBMPLRxji7xi4TBI0w_5o=w640-h426" title="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brocken_spectre" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hillary memorial with Thamserku in the background.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQdZnSlCFE5jGv5ExudQ3XneKy4_cLgjQUgX5kGQExELiWYyPsp1SLm3pzP6mzgSypFHlEYqT_BYeZ6aCgct6jcpsMhsaPHPJ0xdQAkbiSqc4KHA-mF-D5fnAwdV2_qx7cIn0H4cBItNde81le7xE-HSCBXXmdNMfPBTY75vvcJmzdtMcQl6M833A=s4487" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2991" data-original-width="4487" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiQdZnSlCFE5jGv5ExudQ3XneKy4_cLgjQUgX5kGQExELiWYyPsp1SLm3pzP6mzgSypFHlEYqT_BYeZ6aCgct6jcpsMhsaPHPJ0xdQAkbiSqc4KHA-mF-D5fnAwdV2_qx7cIn0H4cBItNde81le7xE-HSCBXXmdNMfPBTY75vvcJmzdtMcQl6M833A=w640-h426" title="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brocken_spectre" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">From the lodge. It's nice when all the light and color you could want are visible through the windows.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Next: farther into the Khumbu as we head for Ama Dablam base camp.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> For now, happy holidays of all sorts to you, and I'll see you next week, when I've recovered from my own holiday celebrations. </span><br /></p><p>###</p><p>Watch this space--the blog will be moving to our new home after the new year! That one's not quite ready, so I'm not sharing the URL yet, but just putting you on notice!<br /></p><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><div> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</div><div><br /></div><div><span>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by </span><a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a><span>. <br /></span></div></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><br /><br />Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-62278766171960360062021-12-20T00:00:00.065-08:002021-12-20T00:00:00.191-08:00Middle Grade Monday: A Place to Hang the Moon<p style="text-align: center;"></p><p style="text-align: center;"><img alt="58957432. sx318 " src="https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1631199837l/58957432._SX318_.jpg" /></p><span></span><p></p><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><div><div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Title: </b><i>A Place to Hang the Moon</i><br /><b>Author: </b>Kate Albus. Read by Polly Lee<br /><b>Publication Info: </b>Tantor Media, 2021. Original Margaret Ferguson, 2021, 309 pages<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Source: </b>Library<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Publisher’s Blurb:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span id="freeText2828408338031827961">It is 1940 and Anna, 9,
Edmund, 11, and William, 12, have just lost their grandmother.
Unfortunately, she left no provision for their guardianship in her will.
Her solicitor comes up with a preposterous plan: he will arrange for
the children to join a group of schoolchildren who are being evacuated
to a village in the country, where they will live with families for the
duration of the war. He also hopes that whoever takes the children on
might end up willing to adopt them and become their new
family--providing, of course, that the children can agree on the choice.<br /><br />Moving
from one family to another, the children suffer the cruel trickery of
foster brothers, the cold realities of outdoor toilets, and the
hollowness of empty tummies. They seek comfort in the village lending
library, whose kind librarian, Nora Muller, seems an excellent
candidate--except that she has a German husband whose whereabouts are
currently unknown. Nevertheless, Nora's cottage is a place of bedtime
stories and fireplaces, of vegetable gardens and hot, milky tea. Most
important, it's a place where someone thinks they all three hung the
moon. Which is really all you need in a mom, if you think about it.</span><b><span id="freeText2828408338031827961"><br /></span> </b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>My Review:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">This is a totally easy feel-good read. There is nothing extraordinary about it: the plot progression is obvious, and the standard tropes are called forth as expected. That doesn't stop it from being a highly enjoyable orphan story, in the great tradition of books about abused orphans who find their forever home with someone who will care for them. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">The biggest issue I had with the book was actually not the predictability of the plot (which these days is kind of a bonus for me), but a slight tendency to anachronism. Some of the language and diction of the characters didn't quite ring true to 1940s England, though I think most of the big-picture story did (leaving aside the utter absurdity of the premise, which is... utterly unrealistic). I do tend to get hung up on that sort of thing! </span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">The audio book was well produced and the reader did a good job--the characters were voiced distinctively and different accents rendered convincingly.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>My Recommendation:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">This is utter brain-candy, a fun read if you are feeling the need for something a bit simple and sentimental. It's probably not the best introduction to the period for children, though the depictions of the mixed conditions for evacuees and the general mess the war caused are pretty good, really.</span><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><br /></b></div></div><div><br /></div><div><i><span>FTC Disclosure: I borrowed an electronic copy of </span></i><span>A Place to Hang the Moon</span><i><span> from my library, and received nothing from the author or the publisher in exchange for my honest review. The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.” </span></i></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by <a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a>.</div><div><br /></div></div></div></div></div><p style="text-align: center;"></p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-45444499597276298982021-12-17T00:00:00.190-08:002021-12-17T00:00:00.210-08:00Photo Friday: Trekking in Nepal, Part I: Lukla to Namche<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Going over my photos, it's hard to see how I can do this trip report with anything like a reasonable number of photos, unless I do one day at a time (and even then it could be hard). For that matter, I could do a whole post on flying into Lukla! Here it is, though.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Background: My second son (age 22) and I signed onto a group tour with <a href="https://www.kamzangjourneys.com/" target="_blank">Kamzang Journeys</a>, a 21-day trek in the Everest region, with several days in Kathmandu on either end. Let me say right up front: Kim Bannister, Lhapa Dorji Sherpa, and the whole Kamzang crew were amazing, and it was a fantastic trip. It probably didn't hurt that they were all so excited to be trekking again, after a two-year hiatus due to COVID. Nepal has focused vaccination efforts on the main tourist areas, making the trek feel as safe as anywhere in that regard (honestly, the vaccination rate in the Khumbu--the Everest region--is far better than in the county where I live). We also found that many if not most of the people spoke English, some very well. It appears to be taught now in all the schools. With so many different languages spoken in Nepal, it makes sense to use English as the common tongue, since it works on most tourists, too.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The real trip began with our 4:45 a.m. departure to the airport. All flights in and out of Lukla are in the mornings, pretty much, because the weather tends to deteriorate through the day. This did mean that we were in the mountains in time for breakfast. Lukla is at about 9300' and our first day would drop to the Dudh Koshi river then climb back to Monjo at a similar altitude, so we weren't too worried about the elevation--yet.<br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMzosX_PGcYiF1TwU5ktA0VXbhyd4kHoJ9w1JM_pce9fLsutQ2EFsWgwmzw6_1nFQRl8-jhUScT1w1lMY-AnGueWCFyxOtwh3Y8B96XPhUnOorsSb5ZlwpmHT1j7sAMQnaWhg1GmUashxizP-U18AO_ve1NR-FFRtQqtNNNy84T0PR41YOnZr1FhE=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgMzosX_PGcYiF1TwU5ktA0VXbhyd4kHoJ9w1JM_pce9fLsutQ2EFsWgwmzw6_1nFQRl8-jhUScT1w1lMY-AnGueWCFyxOtwh3Y8B96XPhUnOorsSb5ZlwpmHT1j7sAMQnaWhg1GmUashxizP-U18AO_ve1NR-FFRtQqtNNNy84T0PR41YOnZr1FhE=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Preparing to board.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFdteTJuj_WAAzgphSAj1PdU0RKe3q6fsinc4PU0IW5HuyOQZoxr0hWwoj0R_tIYlhGwuhD_3qE3KxTX863xLzXiCXJ9i5XN_sYbfLkoLTjG8TVJ8vCFrSFtU8_ORECNc-q1tkvyhIscfxVCl7WsfAh03e5_NFqRZvrNNf8dJcsGD_PlMfMgZJWiI=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhFdteTJuj_WAAzgphSAj1PdU0RKe3q6fsinc4PU0IW5HuyOQZoxr0hWwoj0R_tIYlhGwuhD_3qE3KxTX863xLzXiCXJ9i5XN_sYbfLkoLTjG8TVJ8vCFrSFtU8_ORECNc-q1tkvyhIscfxVCl7WsfAh03e5_NFqRZvrNNf8dJcsGD_PlMfMgZJWiI=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Great excitement at views of the Himalayas out the window.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvSNS9kH3cK4ngRCzM6mkZF5Dz1oTWgwbvvrxJMHoBpOZQ1854Wi_u1qLYuIfRROdX-UUpEpX7PuWEiNmyn083l4HVZMhLPz6RSpq-fAUDulRez_FNzdmglk1TxRL9jaCJbUqkpBKANJ6w84qOl3aAPOgji66y4DBYSKImk_XZHiN1j5TT-tjQ-mI=s1280" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgvSNS9kH3cK4ngRCzM6mkZF5Dz1oTWgwbvvrxJMHoBpOZQ1854Wi_u1qLYuIfRROdX-UUpEpX7PuWEiNmyn083l4HVZMhLPz6RSpq-fAUDulRez_FNzdmglk1TxRL9jaCJbUqkpBKANJ6w84qOl3aAPOgji66y4DBYSKImk_XZHiN1j5TT-tjQ-mI=w640-h360" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A short, sloping runway. I'm standing on the wall at the top, watching planes take off. There's no adjusting for wind direction here--you always land uphill, take off downhill.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhFXjw6okkZN23I8SbSUIHVCQZQzRn3yHqRcd3CfyE5MB7SfHRS8hTVhksCjSC4C9MsqzrMsF3dxdJdMGqTWEdcsGBH3hTY7GdRkQa_kCE32szfhmuqHrC7mni3zhhBsF5BIw2zOqCOUdCM-jAZ5syjak9gZCR0oPapKk7d5tBB1dTvq-zfGRpHlk=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhFXjw6okkZN23I8SbSUIHVCQZQzRn3yHqRcd3CfyE5MB7SfHRS8hTVhksCjSC4C9MsqzrMsF3dxdJdMGqTWEdcsGBH3hTY7GdRkQa_kCE32szfhmuqHrC7mni3zhhBsF5BIw2zOqCOUdCM-jAZ5syjak9gZCR0oPapKk7d5tBB1dTvq-zfGRpHlk=w480-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">While we had breakfast, our guides bagged our duffels and loaded them onto the dzokios--yak/cow hybrids that handle lower-elevation packing in the region, where it is too warm for true yaks.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgStnKLh8DxXbaSVdz8qT60Kr4a2xU8naZ55l2VDRP1xXaUPMuHf2B1v9S2mHRXWuUmCazE9RTGKss4S5YrL36rufJGch_SMAnYoHpFA9XPKekURAvobQTRk_32gJ-snq3-5ACv2BKOo5iuudYuXZ6mvTHhpu9thPhefD9Isr-CB6JK_Yemxzipk-I=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5472" data-original-width="3648" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgStnKLh8DxXbaSVdz8qT60Kr4a2xU8naZ55l2VDRP1xXaUPMuHf2B1v9S2mHRXWuUmCazE9RTGKss4S5YrL36rufJGch_SMAnYoHpFA9XPKekURAvobQTRk_32gJ-snq3-5ACv2BKOo5iuudYuXZ6mvTHhpu9thPhefD9Isr-CB6JK_Yemxzipk-I=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Starting off down Lukla's main street. One thing you notice right away: everything up here happens afoot. There are no vehicles on the "roads" and "streets" of the Khumbu. I hope it stays that way.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqFPOeTDovfeiRX35sdpAZ4YwwMPm-IfD6ei6027ufA1DWT2lpSsgrA04BpHjT9Y8z2Nwmiv0MZyvaXxRwD_9s72NYPfN_YhCi3skN2szpZvLk4v9s8fJxswZzSWaN5SO8c4YkYqaqXT_duwN5tZoT-nUgJOemTmzjnvhuaEZzCyCdCvbCDa5Y1ho=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqFPOeTDovfeiRX35sdpAZ4YwwMPm-IfD6ei6027ufA1DWT2lpSsgrA04BpHjT9Y8z2Nwmiv0MZyvaXxRwD_9s72NYPfN_YhCi3skN2szpZvLk4v9s8fJxswZzSWaN5SO8c4YkYqaqXT_duwN5tZoT-nUgJOemTmzjnvhuaEZzCyCdCvbCDa5Y1ho=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Nepal has made a huge, and largely successful, effort at reforestation of these regions, which had been stripped of everything burnable. Now, power comes from a small hydro plant and solar panels, with heat from small stoves that mostly burn dried yak dung.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCEgMoMQg5k1sJKhAAYYzvbdQGDD5_3CmHXXlBFA2jYkTc0EJA9F5PU8fUqTkaSwo9gODxXnQmjjoQwaHi1Ub19LTSSyh1s5Pt03Ejfi-yO4kMZD-UO32WsXYeO5WYPpUJRXZBW2lYVEpPj0vHqmKzCcwGEGOArPuU6r-ZYeds5Irvj9zdNBxVaWo=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5472" data-original-width="3648" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCEgMoMQg5k1sJKhAAYYzvbdQGDD5_3CmHXXlBFA2jYkTc0EJA9F5PU8fUqTkaSwo9gODxXnQmjjoQwaHi1Ub19LTSSyh1s5Pt03Ejfi-yO4kMZD-UO32WsXYeO5WYPpUJRXZBW2lYVEpPj0vHqmKzCcwGEGOArPuU6r-ZYeds5Irvj9zdNBxVaWo=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Great excitement at the first several mani walls--always circle them clockwise--and the giant prayer wheels that flanked the route in many places.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilgg61vm12z9Mx4qHOTZzvJ6q44EcYZC3xicBb4hnfUZU1NZ09MaDgScrdRcLrjG_oUcwHKzAGPadeooaNqU_8XUOHmWHxG1y-Rqy_bcxzd5fzCalkLtl7xWCKauQcjuYTD7SW2uC6VviN6BJ0-BpmzFTueHwBCIb98yEm-xW26BGvNianfJ5rMpI=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilgg61vm12z9Mx4qHOTZzvJ6q44EcYZC3xicBb4hnfUZU1NZ09MaDgScrdRcLrjG_oUcwHKzAGPadeooaNqU_8XUOHmWHxG1y-Rqy_bcxzd5fzCalkLtl7xWCKauQcjuYTD7SW2uC6VviN6BJ0-BpmzFTueHwBCIb98yEm-xW26BGvNianfJ5rMpI=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Not all prayer wheels were equally well maintained.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;">We enjoyed further excitement as we dropped to river level and began to cross bridges, some fixed, more of them swing bridges--and yes, the dzokios, yaks, and donkeys use those same bridges. They always have the right-of-way.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhNzxHlSRiBL6gbfJwhCbQvBpTFRGvXeLT6i3elXWVw8wWL8epZ9AfVrzAPTDEBH_qXzMt9KZsn88aM9Zngt4twaS67TPTsGLTU5xnT7axDvKlBOoz29gr9Hrq-zeSBOt4TBFZmyGniQHFNWpfLORQstjo0cJCdoVTvAD1zgdU7QxGKCqBuA8y2Vo=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5472" data-original-width="3648" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhhNzxHlSRiBL6gbfJwhCbQvBpTFRGvXeLT6i3elXWVw8wWL8epZ9AfVrzAPTDEBH_qXzMt9KZsn88aM9Zngt4twaS67TPTsGLTU5xnT7axDvKlBOoz29gr9Hrq-zeSBOt4TBFZmyGniQHFNWpfLORQstjo0cJCdoVTvAD1zgdU7QxGKCqBuA8y2Vo=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgbUxS2_midk6jMcUxFjkQXgB9mwl7xAcfT_oL8FGszszgD9wegHNgCr7Le7oB2-kLyJU7o4gmU19LR-fYW5OJiAxMNaMGv9Ihujw_FDkcH6RmelrVps7DL4vi2JSqtWVlDIgvcTPFE2_u5sLkqlBwppTdz4cxh18Pi1CjAC_TXbAqPeAP6jfDfiwc=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgbUxS2_midk6jMcUxFjkQXgB9mwl7xAcfT_oL8FGszszgD9wegHNgCr7Le7oB2-kLyJU7o4gmU19LR-fYW5OJiAxMNaMGv9Ihujw_FDkcH6RmelrVps7DL4vi2JSqtWVlDIgvcTPFE2_u5sLkqlBwppTdz4cxh18Pi1CjAC_TXbAqPeAP6jfDfiwc=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;">We got even more excited about our first glimpses of snow-and-ice-covered peaks.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgj9M1VTS12IJf_y9hJrN0nfdxl_P-dRgSdzR7yJ4wlapnGJKBn0d-amZCy8-Xsfk_PO6XNriLoWOH6xlero9eVfubo6T5Anrv4-SNs2WregfyrfbYaWbE5hxWcY9-GAi7hFXn9-KNssdPdNpJHDDPseiYeS0S8RJd5UnHo6zwKWnXkfO-Cg9HaxCo=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5472" data-original-width="3648" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgj9M1VTS12IJf_y9hJrN0nfdxl_P-dRgSdzR7yJ4wlapnGJKBn0d-amZCy8-Xsfk_PO6XNriLoWOH6xlero9eVfubo6T5Anrv4-SNs2WregfyrfbYaWbE5hxWcY9-GAi7hFXn9-KNssdPdNpJHDDPseiYeS0S8RJd5UnHo6zwKWnXkfO-Cg9HaxCo=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEic1dMd8foTRn0bAx-g3S_y-3lCmWS5RpX_4db8k7EaOmQp7cLDDrCnScG56ZETWVKfa08HAPkzuW19QOQCFdiE2MJxNAadJMq6F5-e_KbgWeOXlLvxxL65MyM49G4NIBCFrGMXwiKeGNGcZM3335yC6stFbaMEheGk66iPfW7XnVACx-Ii_-pWXng=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEic1dMd8foTRn0bAx-g3S_y-3lCmWS5RpX_4db8k7EaOmQp7cLDDrCnScG56ZETWVKfa08HAPkzuW19QOQCFdiE2MJxNAadJMq6F5-e_KbgWeOXlLvxxL65MyM49G4NIBCFrGMXwiKeGNGcZM3335yC6stFbaMEheGk66iPfW7XnVACx-Ii_-pWXng=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Happy to find our first-night lodge. I was surprised how many of the lodges sold (or at least advertised) espresso drinks. I was off coffee for the trip, so never found out if they were any good.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The second day, leaving Monjo for Namche (11,363') meant a big climb. We also entered Sagarmatha National Park almost at once, which caused some thinning of the number of villages and lodges, but not as much as you would expect from a US park model--this park acknowledges and accepts the people who live there, and were there before the park.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjvrbDybiwNt7Xei_WR8DVOdCmWR1SEtnDfH1Rm65IkGjzD5L-7gUmmFb4_zuCE9ckWJGa4fQ5HrWI3Q4xHt4qz36JDNPsA0Cunv02OGP0MALkRoiIQzQTOQo4mn35Hx-RXp-aTAiX27roMznIl-4dg1GvMFhFxAt4scusGO99BYi4NXOdJcCtOFvw=s3368" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3368" data-original-width="2526" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjvrbDybiwNt7Xei_WR8DVOdCmWR1SEtnDfH1Rm65IkGjzD5L-7gUmmFb4_zuCE9ckWJGa4fQ5HrWI3Q4xHt4qz36JDNPsA0Cunv02OGP0MALkRoiIQzQTOQo4mn35Hx-RXp-aTAiX27roMznIl-4dg1GvMFhFxAt4scusGO99BYi4NXOdJcCtOFvw=w480-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Entering the park. <br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhotb5aj0PtNIGrl5CkuyVqVgT2Cs-E3CiNomW2YQxD2sr5tqz4KqKx2yY1IcoMklBeJLIpZM8qAtd8reIyExM9W52Qc4RyBTqlA2cWL28ocPqm6qpT2VlU6rPd3lUDupMwnp71wpHKG74dbAwNLYLDtaaTsnHq9KXTLhES1dPb1AqkQb8_0l6QEwE=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5472" data-original-width="3648" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhotb5aj0PtNIGrl5CkuyVqVgT2Cs-E3CiNomW2YQxD2sr5tqz4KqKx2yY1IcoMklBeJLIpZM8qAtd8reIyExM9W52Qc4RyBTqlA2cWL28ocPqm6qpT2VlU6rPd3lUDupMwnp71wpHKG74dbAwNLYLDtaaTsnHq9KXTLhES1dPb1AqkQb8_0l6QEwE=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /> </a></span></td><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></td><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Things did start to feel wilder. The Dudh Koshi is a glacial river (the name means "Milk River"), thus the beautiful color.</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiV5suhdYBTm6iHKdC2C2vma-SISYtx0Q055m191qw9sNHPIyGBJEyxr9pRmDbVjF41pUnnFhMbEHClpH4CILN-xFKRsOC1yWJkQJ3_IXK3i6KRXX5eTZdVzDTzkAk-5eQkIRcx57_lw2xmJRg1fF9mdxwuUvk68u8G6nBsp8d2ylJmA9_qERhZmT0=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiV5suhdYBTm6iHKdC2C2vma-SISYtx0Q055m191qw9sNHPIyGBJEyxr9pRmDbVjF41pUnnFhMbEHClpH4CILN-xFKRsOC1yWJkQJ3_IXK3i6KRXX5eTZdVzDTzkAk-5eQkIRcx57_lw2xmJRg1fF9mdxwuUvk68u8G6nBsp8d2ylJmA9_qERhZmT0=w480-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The lower bridge is no longer used, so we climbed to the high bridge. It was... really high.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjqyQ-ajaU546renHRZtkRuGNVeq1C06iYUXSAE7eN2soUKddVqRuW5KCqAs0b-IgAyYcF48r1PNcZ8hNMSntGbLGKyKHrd7UNDt3opDj1lkuWluASDSUIiducFkZ5EzfXB8_aq2NEri6fWJ-jEosaQAXZvLNNuxe90AQ6HmPxdBtHANqaIF38vbSc=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5472" data-original-width="3648" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjqyQ-ajaU546renHRZtkRuGNVeq1C06iYUXSAE7eN2soUKddVqRuW5KCqAs0b-IgAyYcF48r1PNcZ8hNMSntGbLGKyKHrd7UNDt3opDj1lkuWluASDSUIiducFkZ5EzfXB8_aq2NEri6fWJ-jEosaQAXZvLNNuxe90AQ6HmPxdBtHANqaIF38vbSc=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Really high.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhoUvVdUk6eoVy22reIABqP0GruAcxhRohcb5cYkoW2CaZQromZXS8nk1TQanpWH1Q2Ka2RB-sIex1LRn5RtiPnMwgeJguwJRAIGdPa7XhkMKb-8sEqX8Vah7Ncr7nuZ30sWVQX_Vb29QQQs40XkFey_s2wwN5qPZhJ9hTaOUx3p6alBaR5lkORYCw=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhoUvVdUk6eoVy22reIABqP0GruAcxhRohcb5cYkoW2CaZQromZXS8nk1TQanpWH1Q2Ka2RB-sIex1LRn5RtiPnMwgeJguwJRAIGdPa7XhkMKb-8sEqX8Vah7Ncr7nuZ30sWVQX_Vb29QQQs40XkFey_s2wwN5qPZhJ9hTaOUx3p6alBaR5lkORYCw=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Arriving in Namche.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi3kBk0aSLQtmly9PIEdONLIp1O0oVukzlB6HFSuX-EQiQlZggms7Sz7GKAfoRPj5TfBeGoz8PXZ4WX8y2g8HNx_WhLa6PP87vqtOF-Sf_HhqWA47boH4_pU3r3_YWx0y5LLUiTY-hvjyGZgUBNonEl-T246O1QugyTqLBhdP7p3Jxk7e27soETN7s=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi3kBk0aSLQtmly9PIEdONLIp1O0oVukzlB6HFSuX-EQiQlZggms7Sz7GKAfoRPj5TfBeGoz8PXZ4WX8y2g8HNx_WhLa6PP87vqtOF-Sf_HhqWA47boH4_pU3r3_YWx0y5LLUiTY-hvjyGZgUBNonEl-T246O1QugyTqLBhdP7p3Jxk7e27soETN7s=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Namche Stupa<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiU6brlfX4kHX3yKQaih-KJewhAYR_Q7lJNq_jAb9sAt3akPH_DLzoT3yj_6SIQWff5yxtvrzCKDOAzONYeOr3fAfVgrm14Jej90xb9UP15DL7poPZeWLxnyOA9fh4EDQWxDsRHzYVFX8Aa92pSI6P2yu44H3dFZOULpSGFjqmAw_hvIs23WFa3vA8=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5472" data-original-width="3648" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiU6brlfX4kHX3yKQaih-KJewhAYR_Q7lJNq_jAb9sAt3akPH_DLzoT3yj_6SIQWff5yxtvrzCKDOAzONYeOr3fAfVgrm14Jej90xb9UP15DL7poPZeWLxnyOA9fh4EDQWxDsRHzYVFX8Aa92pSI6P2yu44H3dFZOULpSGFjqmAw_hvIs23WFa3vA8=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Climbing up the narrow streets and steps to our lodge nearly killed me. I'd been coping with stomach bugs all day, which really impacted my ability to cope with the altitude. I was so happy to see our lodge!<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgRbjk0663LH7GoWt0S2C09nK0xqDikXbTD07nz-kPx1KF7suBmCrI3NK63067mnWMvGZbxeWzoHerdxJaKFeNLjD2pzTLVSAMBAq4BYjJiK2_WlWJM_PeSwzYPNBEmwOu-JWz7JBXrrqoljfMnT1MiCDQJOcDW77OgEWsYOYnVUzuEjPhKUjz22jc=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgRbjk0663LH7GoWt0S2C09nK0xqDikXbTD07nz-kPx1KF7suBmCrI3NK63067mnWMvGZbxeWzoHerdxJaKFeNLjD2pzTLVSAMBAq4BYjJiK2_WlWJM_PeSwzYPNBEmwOu-JWz7JBXrrqoljfMnT1MiCDQJOcDW77OgEWsYOYnVUzuEjPhKUjz22jc=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I recovered enough to climb to the Everest viewpoint for sunset, but the clouds moved in, so that all we saw was this lovely photo Lhakpa showed us from that very spot, in 2019.</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhxZYYe6nTbvVOm08hlm_9TXJ82An6wnZ2-qBLAfRWMJwuEBwpX2qwt-k01avWBYU-G7_C9gqG-0RsFb9qbsE8-yHe5YEspm9CZf-7gJ3aL7CRgq6eZfiB0b0h-7rqHYFvXbfzc2hMkZJ7jhEK-7BB-rBEv2MFUff7b_KBiskZoCooVSy7gQTFhZUA=s5472" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhxZYYe6nTbvVOm08hlm_9TXJ82An6wnZ2-qBLAfRWMJwuEBwpX2qwt-k01avWBYU-G7_C9gqG-0RsFb9qbsE8-yHe5YEspm9CZf-7gJ3aL7CRgq6eZfiB0b0h-7rqHYFvXbfzc2hMkZJ7jhEK-7BB-rBEv2MFUff7b_KBiskZoCooVSy7gQTFhZUA=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Two days of hiking, to be followed by a day of rest and altitude adjustment. I'll pick up the story next week!</span></p><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: small;"> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><div><span style="font-size: small;"> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by </span><a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a></span><span><span style="font-size: small;">. </span><br /></span></span></div></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><br /></span>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-43901010349055463322021-12-15T00:00:00.120-08:002021-12-15T00:00:00.229-08:00Non-fiction Review: Tigers of the Snow<p style="text-align: center;"></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><img alt="189767" src="https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1348009573l/189767.jpg" /></span></p><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></span></span><p></p><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span>Title: </span></b><span><i>Tigers of the Snow: How One Fateful Climb Made the Sherpas Mountaineering Legends</i><br /></span><b><span>Author: </span></b><span>Jonathan Neale<br /></span><b><span></span></b></span><div><div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Publication Info: </b>Thomas Dunne Books, 2002. 320 pages<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Source: </b>Kamzang Journeys trekking library!<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Publisher’s Blurb:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span id="freeText3703338440692772916">In 1922 Himalayan
climbers were British gentlemen, and their Sherpa and Tibetan porters
were "coolies," unskilled and inexperienced casual laborers. By 1953
Sherpa Tenzing Norgay stood on the summit of Everest, and the coolies
had become the "Tigers of the Snow."<br /><br />Jonathan Neale's absorbing
new book is both a compelling history of the oft-forgotten heroes of
mountaineering and a gripping account of the expedition that transformed
the Sherpas into climbing legends. In 1934 a German-led team set off to
climb the Himalayan peak of Nanga Parbat, the ninth highest mountain on
earth. After a disastrous assault in 1895, no attempt had been made to
conquer the mountain for thirty-nine years. The new Nazi government was
determined to prove German physical superiority to the rest of the
world. A heavily funded expedition was under pressure to deliver
results. Like all climbers of the time, they did not really understand
what altitude did to the human body. When a hurricane hit the leading
party just short of the summit, the strongest German climbers headed
down and left the weaker Germans and the Sherpas to die on the ridge.
What happened in the next few days of death and fear changed forever how
the Sherpa climbers thought of themselves. From that point on, they
knew they were the decent and responsible people of the mountain.<br /><br />Jonathan
Neale interviewed many old Sherpa men and women, including Ang Tsering,
the last man off Nanga Parbat alive in 1934. Impeccably researched and
superbly written, <i>Tigers of the Snow</i> is the compelling narrative
of a climb gone wrong, set against the mountaineering history of the
early twentieth century, the haunting background of German politics in
the 1930s, and the hardship and passion of life in the Sherpa valleys.</span><b> <br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><b>My Review:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;">Reading this book while trekking in the Everest region made it particularly interesting to me, but it would be good reading even on a tropical beach. Despite the subtitle and the blurb, the book covers a great deal more than just the crucial 1934 climb. The early chapters provide a great deal of history and cultural information about the Sherpa people, which I appreciated.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><b> <br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;">The narratives of the climbs--both the 1934 climb and a number of others both before and after--were interesting as climbing stories, but even more so as studies in the colonial attitudes which all the European climbers, but especially the British (and the Germans, though in some different ways) brought to the early climbs. Neale makes clear the inherent contradiction in the assumption both of European superiority and the Sherpa ability to carry far greater loads with far less food. It is hard to understand how any intelligent person could have expected so much from their porters yet assumed they were incapable of the great physical demands of the summit push. Of course, that's the inherent contradiction in most colonial thinking.<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;">Neale also documents how and why the Sherpas began to learn climbing techniques, laying the foundation for Tenzing Norgay to stand atop Everest with Hillary. And if the deadly Nanga Parbat climb of 1934 was a key factor--it proved to both the Sherpas and the rest of the climbing community that they were as tough or tougher than their European counterparts, among other things--there were plenty of other climbs that chipped away at the barriers between climbers before any Sherpa could achieve equal billing with a European climber.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;">Finally, Neale's own explanation of the style of the book, partly constructed from official (European) records of the historic climbs, and partly gleaned from oral history directly from Sherpas who were there, addresses the basic problem with so much history: that, as the saying goes, the victors write the history books. If his exposure of the inequalities in the relations between "Alpinists" and Sherpas sparks a sense of indignation at the injustice, it also sparks some self-examination when read while on a trek catered by Sherpa guides who demonstrated that they could hike everything we could, carrying more weight, and still have the energy to lay the tea table and schlepp our bags to our rooms. At least we knew and acknowledged who was strong and in charge!<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><b>My Recommendation:</b></span></div></div><div><span style="font-size: small;">For anyone interested in mountaineering and in particular the history of climbing in the Himalayas, I think this book is essential.<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span>FTC Disclosure: I borrowed a copy of </span></i><span>Tigers of the Snow, </span><i><span>and received nothing from the author or the publisher in exchange for my honest review. The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.” </span></i></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by <a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following </span></a></span><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">us</span></a>.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"> <br /></span></div></div></div></div></div><p style="text-align: center;"></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-82700312960629246042021-12-13T00:00:00.049-08:002021-12-13T00:00:00.216-08:00#WEP: December Flash Fiction Challenge<p></p><p><a href="https://writeeditpublishnow.blogspot.com/2021/12/wep-2021-continues-artistic-inspiration.html" target="_blank"><img alt="" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5axSYJpFw5oOpmm_Oq992X3dOdSNZzKaUSOA_hX9lsCx8wc_z6lOW5HSaq6rE1W1BJm0twUSPVPn9vo4cHQXW51TknHdXAfwIdX-8WXbg9y_6EHezTUp2sK7wTJvkVztmaRuqAJNWnfY/s320/a+december+changed+dates.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="280" /></a></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This December challenge wraps up the year of artistic inspiration from some great works of art. The WEP is open to all, following the simple rules:</span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span>1. <b>SUBMIT</b> your name to the list below on <b>December 1 thru the 15th</b>. Add your link (URL)<br /></span>2. <b>POST</b> your entry, put WEP is in the TITLE along with The Narcissus badge within your entry.<br />3. <b>STATE feedback preferences</b> and word count at the end of your entry.<br />4. <b>READ</b> other entries, giving feedback if requested.<br />5. <b>SHARE THE CHALLENGE</b> on social media. Tweets are ready on the WEP blog.</span></span></p><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span><b>PLEASE NOTE: ENTRIES CLOSE Dec. 15th</b> @ midnight (NY Time - check WEP blog clock)<br /></span><b>ALL GENRES WELCOME</b> except erotica - 1,000 words maximum</span></span><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">My story for this month's challenge is maybe cheating a little--I didn't write it for the challenge, but I decided that the common understanding of Narcissus and narcissism fits well enough, even if the story doesn't relate to the painting. I wrote this while trekking in Nepal last month, highlighting a character who certainly thinks a little too well of himself. And while Monday isn't my usual day for sharing flash fiction, it was my best bet for fitting within the time frame.</span></span></span></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Snow Dragon</span></span></span><br /></h3><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The thing was impossible. James Whitherspoon the Third had absolutely no doubt of that, so the shock was complete when it proved to be true.<br /><br />Whitherspoon knew dragons; had fought them and tried to learn their language from any who would tolerate teaching him. But the dragons had all been in the low hills. They hated the cold. Whitherspoon was not up here in the snows to meet dragons.<br /><br />So what in the name of all that was holy was this one doing sitting on a glacier? And it was pure white, nearly invisible against the snows, rather than the brilliant ruby and emerald of the low-land dragons. Whitherspoon stomped his booted feet more securely into the snow, stared again at the dragon to ensure it was really there, and looked around for his porters. They would surely know what was up with this strangely misplaced creature.<br /><br />Perhaps they did. The porters were merely small dark specks well down the mountain slope. Whatever they knew of snow dragons, they clearly didn’t care to meet one.<br /><br />So what? It was he, James Whitherspoon, not some unlettered local bearers of burdens, who had spent a lifetime studying dragons. Not for him terror and flight.<br /><br />Whitherspoon continued to slog upwards through the snow and ice. When he was near enough to be heard, he planted his hiking staff, folded his hands on the knob at the top, and called out, “Greetings to you, oh dragon of the high places!”<br /><br />It was a polite enough greeting, but the only response was a small puff of smoke from the creature’s nostrils, and a stomp of the left forefoot in a manner that might suggest irritation.<br /><br />Not that Whitherspoon noticed or cared. He focused on the smoke: It must mean that at this altitude, or in this deep snow, the dragon couldn’t flame. Probably the thing was lost and in trouble. Whitherspoon managed to work himself up to quite a sympathy for the poor, lost dragon, which he would of course save from the horrific fate that awaited it in the high-altitude snows.<br /><br />The self-proclaimed scholar approached closer. The dragon stamped first the left, then the right front foot. Whitherspoon took another step forward, again struck his pose with his staff.<br /><br />“Can I help you, Master Dragon?” He maintained the respectful form of address, but there is no denying that the nature of the question was condescending, at the least. Certainly the dragon seemed to think so. It shook its head, uttered something int he dragon tongue that Whitherspoon was pretty sure was a curse, and finally deigned to speak in English.<br /><br />“Leave my mountain at once.”<br /><br />Leave the mountain? Or what? Whitherspoon actually laughed. “Leave, or you’ll warm me with your breath? Fire is what I crave most here, you know. If you haven’t noticed, it’s cold.”<br /><br />“I warn you again: You do not belong here. Your companions are wise. They know where they are not welcome.”<br /><br />Whitherspoon dismissed a vague memory of how hard it had been to find any porters willing to cross this particular pass. Still full of confidence in his own learning, he persisted.<br /><br />“I can help you find your way back to the warmer lands, where you can thrive.” You fool was in his tone and his heart, if not in his words.<br /><br />The dragon huffed. As Whitherspoon expected, only a trickle of heavy smoke emerged from the nostrils that, in the lowlands, could incinerate an explorer/scholar in one huff.<br /><br />“See?” Whitherspoon pointed out. “You are disarmed. You need my help. In return, I ask only that you fly me to my next destination.”<br /><br />The dragon lashed its tail. “You weary me. What’s more, you insult me.” It drew in a great lungful of the frozen air. <br /><br />Whitherspoon expected the dragon to drop down dead. Instead, it blew the air back out, exactly as though it breathed fire over him. <br /><br />The expert on dragons was instantly encased in ice.<br /><br />When a spring avalanche returned him to the village below, the look of shock and astonishment on the face of James Whitherspoon III was perfectly preserved in his ice coffin.</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;">###</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: small;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiglsXt4MHQhzyafi_nyIOXw2UybXaV6Iip_XCh9acqq61CdVYkdFpUkze933w2sy7Zh9aLrgAb2UNc_LONspVrE-n94m1crLZZ9JmbDPqvkCSKQ5_UsWsY17xjfD4pvchIeSpHBFCqH2rv8oJGTJRN4oVEaQyfhXPlyf5OHEuB-97Z97myaGe_JNM=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiglsXt4MHQhzyafi_nyIOXw2UybXaV6Iip_XCh9acqq61CdVYkdFpUkze933w2sy7Zh9aLrgAb2UNc_LONspVrE-n94m1crLZZ9JmbDPqvkCSKQ5_UsWsY17xjfD4pvchIeSpHBFCqH2rv8oJGTJRN4oVEaQyfhXPlyf5OHEuB-97Z97myaGe_JNM=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lair of the snow dragons?<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></span></p><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><div> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</div><div><br /></div><div><span>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by </span><a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a><span>. <br /></span></div></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span><br /></span></span></p><p></p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-69943261512599070622021-12-10T00:00:00.135-08:002021-12-10T00:00:00.238-08:00Photo Friday: Kathmandu<div><p>Nothing like getting home... and tackling the photo edits right off. Since everyone expects a show at Xmas, I can't procrastinate. That means I can start sharing photos here. I've finished edits on the Kathmandu section of the trip, and managed to select almost a reasonable number of pictures to share here. There's no coherent narrative here--I'm just trying to capture some of the feel of the city. Many thanks to Kim Bannister and Kamzang Journeys for enabling all of this!<br /></p><p> <i>Approaching Kathmandu by air. Not the mountains, but definitely the hills.<br /></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgXZtaVy_VzpeNrQpfmxHnKNnVSg4xvac-euAW5HZn6jJYFGzbJJaB7xSgDNxbWxPH-RiXSyklTad-nPyCtNBQXYKX4b975AOvVjByV1YXZPfeATVDKRfYrOeUErMAx_5L4PV6xJ7OYgbxr4yczoyaUoRcbdDuDwQZtK7t_mPTV9HQLR-bxjqcbyTE=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgXZtaVy_VzpeNrQpfmxHnKNnVSg4xvac-euAW5HZn6jJYFGzbJJaB7xSgDNxbWxPH-RiXSyklTad-nPyCtNBQXYKX4b975AOvVjByV1YXZPfeATVDKRfYrOeUErMAx_5L4PV6xJ7OYgbxr4yczoyaUoRcbdDuDwQZtK7t_mPTV9HQLR-bxjqcbyTE=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>We arrived at the start of Tihar, the Nepali celebration of Diwali. Hanging garlands of bright orange marigolds on everything is an important part of the celebration (we even saw them on the necks of street dogs).</i> <br /></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiIqr7WQfCpEJerZ2B5UQQQyVxawjHEBoOfgeWUKM_EE8iQQwGjcXrD7vAduh6Wx66pnQ0NJstpVLVqsZaFwnuwcDYfpbp3nsXr77Tvb39S1tTBtWk40Y0ko16Wl6iB9Vnf_ggtxG7MwCqhnxjT6VB7VlHO7AQrm1H9UpjCxk4zF2jG7atuRoPe2WI=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiIqr7WQfCpEJerZ2B5UQQQyVxawjHEBoOfgeWUKM_EE8iQQwGjcXrD7vAduh6Wx66pnQ0NJstpVLVqsZaFwnuwcDYfpbp3nsXr77Tvb39S1tTBtWk40Y0ko16Wl6iB9Vnf_ggtxG7MwCqhnxjT6VB7VlHO7AQrm1H9UpjCxk4zF2jG7atuRoPe2WI=w480-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Another part of the celebration is lights--everywhere, for a night or two.</i><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwvLulrY-coxy15-G2t6I5QVMwFGE9dMo-KQHWHX6zoVso5GdXFhYYpScTwp2lpSiPscKdQVEsWi8ppYaViVWlZiA1Cep0tA6T_Xn_7CW_TNkT3nA91-J28YZw3mt_0iJDLSS6T6d7rILhg9hfgw9GrQTT8KltHndzsG-IarXMhhhcnkROXQi7yyQ=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwvLulrY-coxy15-G2t6I5QVMwFGE9dMo-KQHWHX6zoVso5GdXFhYYpScTwp2lpSiPscKdQVEsWi8ppYaViVWlZiA1Cep0tA6T_Xn_7CW_TNkT3nA91-J28YZw3mt_0iJDLSS6T6d7rILhg9hfgw9GrQTT8KltHndzsG-IarXMhhhcnkROXQi7yyQ=w480-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></div><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgHaLawIX7iwMYvlv6a4jctGeYav09IHbTZxFelZlJ91rPva6uUpp8NzMKDw9InzPPyY8S1rqEZcJ80C6N8bGfRQzw_JTVg51GNwaJ_LLhqgVZn0Ip68QBfLOC91n5DadHOxEixHpDz7Tt5dG9ovOu26pNk6MHe_Ttcsgr2E9QWR7SW20wOw12HJdA=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgHaLawIX7iwMYvlv6a4jctGeYav09IHbTZxFelZlJ91rPva6uUpp8NzMKDw9InzPPyY8S1rqEZcJ80C6N8bGfRQzw_JTVg51GNwaJ_LLhqgVZn0Ip68QBfLOC91n5DadHOxEixHpDz7Tt5dG9ovOu26pNk6MHe_Ttcsgr2E9QWR7SW20wOw12HJdA=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing the stairs to the Swayambunath stupa.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">... Also known as the Monkey Temple.<br /></div><div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOiqCZAMBoiikbg4XLf3jp56BVPY3FWEYGgI66ZuLELHRc566CNtm4KIfyOxmC7nLgiHTGHrLWdl86CHc6QVomccEckBhLFhZm_U-iAXLfeR6wPNkhzoBWV-ti9QI2GTY86svE9B5LYjfnISRRwfKHPQrIGVXBI79Wu_MvKIN7JLfNAY18Yxw-jqs=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiOiqCZAMBoiikbg4XLf3jp56BVPY3FWEYGgI66ZuLELHRc566CNtm4KIfyOxmC7nLgiHTGHrLWdl86CHc6QVomccEckBhLFhZm_U-iAXLfeR6wPNkhzoBWV-ti9QI2GTY86svE9B5LYjfnISRRwfKHPQrIGVXBI79Wu_MvKIN7JLfNAY18Yxw-jqs=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiT6Ns1uxYZt7v8dxM9MGvQsiOhUBoDbfhmSSkYx3hVpR1XquGcnE8bcPR7Q-p0tI5BXfAO1McQpsuPDrUMeVYXixndUh4fXLrMTr_BCFQaBkOn1djmtFxoO0jnvkaalzPwswAd73QvNlNEXzkjXtHjxHnXOC44w8B2TazI4fS1tVWK6ehCGrohfs4=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiT6Ns1uxYZt7v8dxM9MGvQsiOhUBoDbfhmSSkYx3hVpR1XquGcnE8bcPR7Q-p0tI5BXfAO1McQpsuPDrUMeVYXixndUh4fXLrMTr_BCFQaBkOn1djmtFxoO0jnvkaalzPwswAd73QvNlNEXzkjXtHjxHnXOC44w8B2TazI4fS1tVWK6ehCGrohfs4=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></div> </div><div>The stupa is on a hill, so offers some sense of the city. One part of the city.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj6C0QmwvawQ7gEab1bBUkwtDFE3tOaoa-K7Hq3tS7Yh0yYKwBj4HUDBvjALACrwdB4WL2FLd2pf4CwDWP9nSDH2hHG2utz83icYvQE-1N4xnEr-fj_1nDHRE-AMD5kw9Lbou3p5x2uiXs_VSYMIs5UcxmE9IWCWpnlUFuk_xVYrZbi14zx7dt1b7k=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj6C0QmwvawQ7gEab1bBUkwtDFE3tOaoa-K7Hq3tS7Yh0yYKwBj4HUDBvjALACrwdB4WL2FLd2pf4CwDWP9nSDH2hHG2utz83icYvQE-1N4xnEr-fj_1nDHRE-AMD5kw9Lbou3p5x2uiXs_VSYMIs5UcxmE9IWCWpnlUFuk_xVYrZbi14zx7dt1b7k=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div></div><div> </div><div>The cable car ride to the top of Chandragiri hill gives bigger views, reminding us why we are there.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbchvMNZuATjJqRI2WKp_0HpM0esen5bqQzJguCvjb_qFp15dAnY2M3fu5jwel3rVQDz3jtEpwlBI4KMqo-MgOJ6HEX8sr7owaefco9jp333_DPC3Bv9J14mQrM4hA50ljPNImjirmm0Vntbd1nN7y5aotPmO5XZmFEBOW3rm0psoJweOdF4MUykA=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbchvMNZuATjJqRI2WKp_0HpM0esen5bqQzJguCvjb_qFp15dAnY2M3fu5jwel3rVQDz3jtEpwlBI4KMqo-MgOJ6HEX8sr7owaefco9jp333_DPC3Bv9J14mQrM4hA50ljPNImjirmm0Vntbd1nN7y5aotPmO5XZmFEBOW3rm0psoJweOdF4MUykA=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div></div><div> </div><div>A lengthy hike took us along the ridge and eventually back to the city, past the biggest collection of prayer flags we saw anywhere, I think.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiEEezx69YlCW7HrtpwfT_P6AiveuHa_mb_W3BPTs_XdGdkeOyiiAC_e9DtPavGw-z4WTrMMUnZ1enjz5sUs0WNBmzegWA5Lla24TBZPCCmxHrIsEZYlzpfClBGsLPJXMlSGwhUF5xB5XU2ApjxAookEkhXseJBpfdcNc7IynLEEuNkvhLcDOEivXo=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiEEezx69YlCW7HrtpwfT_P6AiveuHa_mb_W3BPTs_XdGdkeOyiiAC_e9DtPavGw-z4WTrMMUnZ1enjz5sUs0WNBmzegWA5Lla24TBZPCCmxHrIsEZYlzpfClBGsLPJXMlSGwhUF5xB5XU2ApjxAookEkhXseJBpfdcNc7IynLEEuNkvhLcDOEivXo=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Only a small part of the extensive prayer-flag complex.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table> </div><div>Durbar Square is the heart of the old city, a complex of temples and the old palace.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgJid0CdgZ9C9he5_8GMbjUPTm7YDhNZ8tAS5Xg0beBJZ_HNcVx1xuWDcYmawYj2CIg0th5E6suI71Ej7oR-yGOe08oiaEWiLSQH4sZaIN0tx_GZ4-B6mOqfubsn_5iUY3WGWMw-H89VPnf7b7PJAqrVNkyPLDdWU44Crx22ZAJcT3Zxy00khpICE=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhgJid0CdgZ9C9he5_8GMbjUPTm7YDhNZ8tAS5Xg0beBJZ_HNcVx1xuWDcYmawYj2CIg0th5E6suI71Ej7oR-yGOe08oiaEWiLSQH4sZaIN0tx_GZ4-B6mOqfubsn_5iUY3WGWMw-H89VPnf7b7PJAqrVNkyPLDdWU44Crx22ZAJcT3Zxy00khpICE=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></div>A lot of the buildings were extensively damaged in the 2015 earthquake.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhAULmU7y6G80i1-VCNoK6D8zDcYm1Gwnw-VK70IoSP10V6HMQIf48uAw0_19UrqOt7V430pTNwTh8Sg0G1UiV0xokYtB50R_oL_Ody2CCB5HpCbCf3NxGSzHwFmRJIqJcgLQjSI8U-ySRT5XHzNjw8A73X2cB3Uu9lUyOf4iQ0EumbS6McLDWpv4M=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">Cafe <img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhAULmU7y6G80i1-VCNoK6D8zDcYm1Gwnw-VK70IoSP10V6HMQIf48uAw0_19UrqOt7V430pTNwTh8Sg0G1UiV0xokYtB50R_oL_Ody2CCB5HpCbCf3NxGSzHwFmRJIqJcgLQjSI8U-ySRT5XHzNjw8A73X2cB3Uu9lUyOf4iQ0EumbS6McLDWpv4M=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div></div><div> </div><div>The Boudha Stupa as seen from the Cafe Caravan, which served good food and some really nice local art and crafts. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNErdwpSle4v5gXg5CxPOQ4DY3Z1XMUEg1KFZs5oE-K9BwHKsAtouL3XH5rJpblvuOJJ79iUvLHws3V3mtUaEX7PUxbxmXmkCAf-p5JwCBFFL_OeDFle-T3yWnaMUhngNfcma3x3DYRqMy0eaSov0ujWFBS3tR50PiyZVgSLawcsmCQevGOcM8Exs=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNErdwpSle4v5gXg5CxPOQ4DY3Z1XMUEg1KFZs5oE-K9BwHKsAtouL3XH5rJpblvuOJJ79iUvLHws3V3mtUaEX7PUxbxmXmkCAf-p5JwCBFFL_OeDFle-T3yWnaMUhngNfcma3x3DYRqMy0eaSov0ujWFBS3tR50PiyZVgSLawcsmCQevGOcM8Exs=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></div></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGecHzdy3Y4-XyQJGJOAkEbBLInHK47rThG3lyjaj_lNO0nTPe9GhUOvjrKsIROWp28s3-EqUp3hJBLuq8oNQJDe-qJ7Q8T0rKYpWE0SxTaVvkClpogyoN8Kf_E4QzO6ZQYUJAgdIvj-13Ys_d40sctgJf_OwUjcQd8jIXxaolRr0bOHzk9CSdshU=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhGecHzdy3Y4-XyQJGJOAkEbBLInHK47rThG3lyjaj_lNO0nTPe9GhUOvjrKsIROWp28s3-EqUp3hJBLuq8oNQJDe-qJ7Q8T0rKYpWE0SxTaVvkClpogyoN8Kf_E4QzO6ZQYUJAgdIvj-13Ys_d40sctgJf_OwUjcQd8jIXxaolRr0bOHzk9CSdshU=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reservoir on a calm December morning.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgO26yafEzhSCBqLSt7S8pStEfeoKI4CwO_2YkuBZuVIX40BI9269VLmvVPmi9H2Ur4Te9Ojf4F9i0e2u-Gm5LC87qpOzByA6_YIQ5lHDlvtXwnVRhyTvkPERjeujjArxsr6SmPPYb6EmHVMQMi-kpVc-238p-h_ej3E4aoAlZN3yZtfEHml8Vkxhs=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgO26yafEzhSCBqLSt7S8pStEfeoKI4CwO_2YkuBZuVIX40BI9269VLmvVPmi9H2Ur4Te9Ojf4F9i0e2u-Gm5LC87qpOzByA6_YIQ5lHDlvtXwnVRhyTvkPERjeujjArxsr6SmPPYb6EmHVMQMi-kpVc-238p-h_ej3E4aoAlZN3yZtfEHml8Vkxhs=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The streets are dominated by motorcycles. Thousands of them. Sometimes all in one intersection at once, or so it can feel.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>In the old city we found the manikin district.<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbkOcXdBE8O-VUKWph59J0HbMsusejzWljIX4YReYDrwhswC-ufg3nKsbRUzHo65z4LEfJ3Hb4vIvAt9-s7MyZcy6jp3sJROuaLlwjiva2CWmyDM_EDR_Uzv7DD0jxaXamw8QXUO5D860to73poncq6Yl6eKiGVkhP2KHFFvLslVs-AP4UOTdRfWM=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1471" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhbkOcXdBE8O-VUKWph59J0HbMsusejzWljIX4YReYDrwhswC-ufg3nKsbRUzHo65z4LEfJ3Hb4vIvAt9-s7MyZcy6jp3sJROuaLlwjiva2CWmyDM_EDR_Uzv7DD0jxaXamw8QXUO5D860to73poncq6Yl6eKiGVkhP2KHFFvLslVs-AP4UOTdRfWM=w460-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="460" /></a></div>Around the corner we found the street where they are needed.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjIeFbarA6M3bFqmlWvdWCoA7uwu7w__z0-nkGrAMZD-_fwk68xgil3i2R0E0KQd38ZxEknZccA1QnpvoarVgVOSgABQAVfzs8ElSqG8zXavl5DTA83YupjHL8Hxw-avxTKfrvNKLdMSDkWLB_97ltF7ha87LKBGTjPIuHcR2QYMad1xTYEogMWnCA=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjIeFbarA6M3bFqmlWvdWCoA7uwu7w__z0-nkGrAMZD-_fwk68xgil3i2R0E0KQd38ZxEknZccA1QnpvoarVgVOSgABQAVfzs8ElSqG8zXavl5DTA83YupjHL8Hxw-avxTKfrvNKLdMSDkWLB_97ltF7ha87LKBGTjPIuHcR2QYMad1xTYEogMWnCA=w480-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></div><p>In the middle of the very busy and noisy city, the substantial grounds and garden of the Kathmandu Guest House provided a sanity-saving oasis.<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSnd3-Y-d_teM4g_vHUpS8T7psdHbJE_o7xXjrEct_K_5sXYeB7lOO5664QvAKQlxtpSulFz1dOK8_ntqO90DuppHygpWqnGxLfGZAc1oK0g41Dk1loJ1iazqkqDWhRZQG-gNbSjmDCZ2KzVvadMJ6hDu9VCw-fiO4b8gbna5jw_uJOu8m3vBu6Fg=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSnd3-Y-d_teM4g_vHUpS8T7psdHbJE_o7xXjrEct_K_5sXYeB7lOO5664QvAKQlxtpSulFz1dOK8_ntqO90DuppHygpWqnGxLfGZAc1oK0g41Dk1loJ1iazqkqDWhRZQG-gNbSjmDCZ2KzVvadMJ6hDu9VCw-fiO4b8gbna5jw_uJOu8m3vBu6Fg=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHXuJWkUooY7pZ1PJIVOaqsoOQp4d6bAYjLrrjQ6yZv7QPFtqrGjPQyhtBLDOHPFVRCVDH2rbJY0rmgGFggjRN8XKs31B8oeylCJPOV7wahbbSyE5hEqlUCHXbXzAIFMe9wuVlk1QhR5gKVnn0nhSfBtyKOdo8y6R7GU4iO2yNowMOlYOuVh9v39g=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHXuJWkUooY7pZ1PJIVOaqsoOQp4d6bAYjLrrjQ6yZv7QPFtqrGjPQyhtBLDOHPFVRCVDH2rbJY0rmgGFggjRN8XKs31B8oeylCJPOV7wahbbSyE5hEqlUCHXbXzAIFMe9wuVlk1QhR5gKVnn0nhSfBtyKOdo8y6R7GU4iO2yNowMOlYOuVh9v39g=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p>Up next: actual photos of the mountains and trekking we went there to see and do! Kathmandu was a bonus, one that might have driven me around the bend if I'd stayed much longer but still a place I'm glad to have experienced, even a little.<br /></p><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><div> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</div><div><br /></div><div><span>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by </span><a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a><span>. <br /></span></div></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><br /></div>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-87862539749184880712021-12-08T00:00:00.054-08:002021-12-08T00:00:00.189-08:00Writer's Update: Maybe working?<p>It should come as a surprise to no one, least of all me, that having just returned from a month of travel on the opposite side of the world, I'm not exactly back leaping into my writing routine. So why am I so surprised? Slow learner, I guess.</p><p>Let's see: I got home Saturday afternoon. I spent Saturday and Sunday taking care of all the laundry and gear cleaning needed (boy, that trekker laundry was ripe! When a sniffer dog at the airport checked out my duffel, I was afraid it would drop dead on the spot). And napping. Monday I managed to get started on photo editing, with a nap thrown in.</p><p>Tuesday was the day: I showed up for my writers' accountability at 9, set my goal, noted I had a dentist appointment, and took off. And... I achieved my goal!</p><p>Okay, the goal was to print out the draft of my new novel, so I can start thinking about editing it. Still--I got it done, and it really did take all the extra time I had either side of the dentist, since I also had to go scrounging for paper to recycle into my draft--I do prefer to use recycled paper for such, and in any case, I didn't have enough fresh new paper to do it (note to self: buy more paper).</p><p>In other news, I've started photo edits, creating the hand-stitched panoramas and culling the obvious fails. I have it down to a mere 2100 pictures to look at more seriously.</p><p>Finally, while on my trek, I wrote two goofy stories, which I will be sharing here in the next couple of weeks, along with photos as I have them ready. I'm hoping I can do the Kathmandu photos this Friday and get on to the mountains next week.</p><p>Here's one to start with, designed to both represent the state of my brain and to give my electrician friend nightmares:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjzKEoc7C3j_SaddQGH4qIN-P55ChSGKJ9G_7Tc1bGdG821bGd6qCdYjjb85EnOvGFIRypXDswJY3gRUYJVQxn4ZvFd32OtMglig29SXf4p3GmtbXZte9dhd9B8viF2SejnBIZCAIn7HO5IUSW0pPAhANKkU97LA-MCyEBQ0T002tipiqzCrkv2Wsk=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjzKEoc7C3j_SaddQGH4qIN-P55ChSGKJ9G_7Tc1bGdG821bGd6qCdYjjb85EnOvGFIRypXDswJY3gRUYJVQxn4ZvFd32OtMglig29SXf4p3GmtbXZte9dhd9B8viF2SejnBIZCAIn7HO5IUSW0pPAhANKkU97LA-MCyEBQ0T002tipiqzCrkv2Wsk=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-64311959433308799872021-12-06T00:00:00.002-08:002021-12-06T00:00:00.206-08:00Home at last!<p><span style="font-size: medium;">Home, happy, and exhausted (and so jet-lagged it took me 3 days to get this post up)! With a few sneak-preview photos for you all who have continued to follow the blog during my absence.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The Himalayas: damned big mountains. I need a nap!</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivgDdCwUyeewj1_Eru_4-Getja0haqLbbKd6XEI6DEr6kp18pY_FgiLpJtwA3t1EGjiKMhvkM4Bvv-IagrpZsHyCbMOUkYVo_uJGXvjcVAiysJ0zEvgKHSDiasRnMGAWr8qXl9W5Zf4Vwm8fP6L8cr1iaTbpXQ74X3tbZ6P99DEvpSNmbsmIlOQwI=s2048" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEivgDdCwUyeewj1_Eru_4-Getja0haqLbbKd6XEI6DEr6kp18pY_FgiLpJtwA3t1EGjiKMhvkM4Bvv-IagrpZsHyCbMOUkYVo_uJGXvjcVAiysJ0zEvgKHSDiasRnMGAWr8qXl9W5Zf4Vwm8fP6L8cr1iaTbpXQ74X3tbZ6P99DEvpSNmbsmIlOQwI=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass 2021" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Approaching the Everest Base Camp area. This was the only place we had bad weather.<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj1ZAw3UhsVZESo7Y1RlK4QghULA2r79YQHmjFbOLmGoox6LXB37LNg9Z2FqwwkubSCfe4ONG1FJJXlpO9lIfxuPW02MxjmtEp-Rv04ungf7KtltACDbIS-idi7AeKIUdDsbmEZiMGEIE9VbcgK1PSvg8cVC8hFeuPpYYJLBegspoXQa9dmxSMMzoY=s2048" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj1ZAw3UhsVZESo7Y1RlK4QghULA2r79YQHmjFbOLmGoox6LXB37LNg9Z2FqwwkubSCfe4ONG1FJJXlpO9lIfxuPW02MxjmtEp-Rv04ungf7KtltACDbIS-idi7AeKIUdDsbmEZiMGEIE9VbcgK1PSvg8cVC8hFeuPpYYJLBegspoXQa9dmxSMMzoY=w480-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass 2021" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Himalayan sunset.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj4dujJm3GQvrKQq_IMc5knjk9FfY35fobHZJ17mLS9EdS-LP33VxkEEiwuC2nveHSulCJi3uC2sKUJDJv5wJ0YC4a7x3yxHfG6QWBRLjmD8puKkcEqqyGGgtQSO1FaZSxw5Ckj740WMDSZKnjK5_7_kX35XAJZ1I8jVe4GmbRYZuoF2FxqG32iu0E=s2048" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj4dujJm3GQvrKQq_IMc5knjk9FfY35fobHZJ17mLS9EdS-LP33VxkEEiwuC2nveHSulCJi3uC2sKUJDJv5wJ0YC4a7x3yxHfG6QWBRLjmD8puKkcEqqyGGgtQSO1FaZSxw5Ckj740WMDSZKnjK5_7_kX35XAJZ1I8jVe4GmbRYZuoF2FxqG32iu0E=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass 2021" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Crossing the Ngozumba Glacier to Gokyo.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEincBMC6M8TlFILqAtyXQgTXbEOADHkmE8nMBV5Gpogo1De11CKOmVLzvRdwY2RumJs__uJ9MlkFtStVWxHmk-FmHksqZZcaIEBzCwhHLE9Jn_T_VWjQNz81EuofsyJ6mInC5xaN47bCqq9ZP8Z6-cyodqCvG7GI-BclMuqy__Nwu_VvCS-SE4_rRk=s2048" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEincBMC6M8TlFILqAtyXQgTXbEOADHkmE8nMBV5Gpogo1De11CKOmVLzvRdwY2RumJs__uJ9MlkFtStVWxHmk-FmHksqZZcaIEBzCwhHLE9Jn_T_VWjQNz81EuofsyJ6mInC5xaN47bCqq9ZP8Z6-cyodqCvG7GI-BclMuqy__Nwu_VvCS-SE4_rRk=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass 2021" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The summit of Gokyo Ri (17,580’) with Everest and Nuptse behind me.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And that’s it until I get some photo editing done!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 3px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="s1">All text and photos </span><span class="s2">©️</span><span class="s1">Rebecca M. Douglass, unless otherwise indicated. Please ask for permission before using or sharing any content of this blog. Linkbacks are always appreciated!</span></span></p></div></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-31326386999452886602021-12-01T00:00:00.092-08:002021-12-01T00:00:00.205-08:00IWSG + Zanzibar's Rings--Cover Reveal<div><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/p/iwsg-sign-up.html" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCN9HFm1m82KdskQehVwzMcsXDF4prZtjNU9d-rJMpUhkUPyz8uKDdMGqMPFSLxAEBmkyYjn5uTynNDpGRrZWH386gXJLkkTZkCmdPTBWeZTTCLMrm4sVzdmUCH4ZP21c_YCVO49_SCg/s320/Insecure+Writers+Support+Group+Badge.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Posting:</b> The first Wednesday of every month is officially <b>Insecure Writer’s Support Group</b>
day. Post your thoughts on your own blog. Talk about your doubts and
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<span style="font-size: medium;">Let’s rock the neurotic writing world!</span></div><span style="font-size: medium;">
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<span style="font-size: medium;">Our Twitter handle is @TheIWSG and hashtag is #IWSG.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Since I'm still in Nepal (but have returned safely to Kathmandu, and by the time you are reading this may be on my way home, depending on what time zone my computer thinks in), I'm not doing a full post. But I am delighted to participate in the cover reveal for Jemima Pett's <i>Zanzibar's Rings</i>, which completes her Viridian System series--a wonderful science fiction trilogy! I've had the privilege of reading the MS, and am so excited it's coming out at last! If you haven't read the first two books, get started now so you'll be ready for this one in February :)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">V</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">V</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">V</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;">V <br /></span></span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><h3 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Zanzibar’s Rings (Viridian System #3)
<cover image=""> </cover></span></h3><h3 style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><cover image=""><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;">V<br />V<br />V<br />V</span><br /></span></cover></span></h3><h3 style="text-align: center;"><cover image=""><span style="font-family: arial;"> <br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjcC8j4iNRJPimucNREoJ6irf-08JyT_ZLrEOeEj8yk2we_RcCCoOCb5B_LsLPtJz46VOodCGsi3q4LAulTJrTc1XcpDAzZ0x_4Mv-pT_qCmIzWVsuBZ5bV4qWUE2-3doRlTTNYtBC4-hJnhpp507V5meN7pMoeqsgwQGVgxM6D22yQpTe9JYIXM1M=s1280" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="853" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjcC8j4iNRJPimucNREoJ6irf-08JyT_ZLrEOeEj8yk2we_RcCCoOCb5B_LsLPtJz46VOodCGsi3q4LAulTJrTc1XcpDAzZ0x_4Mv-pT_qCmIzWVsuBZ5bV4qWUE2-3doRlTTNYtBC4-hJnhpp507V5meN7pMoeqsgwQGVgxM6D22yQpTe9JYIXM1M=w266-h400" width="266" /></a></div></cover><i><cover image="">A galactic crisis: the entire comms system destroyed. How will spaceships in flight get home? Dolores is stuck in warp with a very dangerous passenger, Pete gets his shuttle home on manual. How come anything in close contact with orichalcum fixes itself? Just flying through Zanzibar's Rings solves the problem, as the Federation's Fighters find, as they invade the Viridian System's settled planets. </cover></i></h3><p style="text-align: center;"><cover image="">This is the final book in the Viridian System series. </cover></p><p style="text-align: center;"><cover image="">Publication date: <b>February 22nd 2022</b>, ebook and paperback </cover></p><p style="text-align: center;"><cover image="">Pre-order from most of these places now!
<a href="https://bookgoodies.com/a/B093QFX6DV" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ~~~ <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1565459397" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank">Apple iTunes</a> ~~~<a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/2940164891299" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank"> B&N (Nook)</a> ~~~ <a href="https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/Search?Query=9781005863081" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank">Kobo</a> ~~~ <a href="https://www.scribd.com/search?query=9781005863081&language=0" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank">Scribd</a> ~~~ <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1081812" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank">Smashwords</a> </cover></p><p style="text-align: center;"><cover image="">Check out the other books in the series: <a href="http://jemimapett.com/books/viridian-system-series/" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank"><i>The Perihelix</i>, and <i>Curved Space to Corsair</i></a>. <br /><br /></cover></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><b><cover image="">About Jemima Pett </cover></b></h3><p><cover image="">Jemima has been writing stories since she was eight, and published The Princelings of the East in 2011. That led on to a ten-book series of the same name, written for older children (9 and up).
Jemima reckons she read all of the science fiction in her local library, and most likes alternative universes, time travel, consequences of social change and unusual ideas surrounding alien species. Her favourite authors included Anne McCaffrey, Fritz Lieber, Poul Anderson, John Brunner, Robert Heinlein and Arthur C Clarke. These days she likes Becky Chambers, Lindsay Buroker, Kristine Kathryn Rusch, Clare O’Beara, M T McGuire, Jennifer Ellis… She also loves series – once involved with characters she loves to read their continuing adventures.
She has degrees or diplomas in maths, earth sciences and environmental technology and would most like everyone to use their natural resources sustainably, since we only have the one planet to support us. </cover></p><p><cover image="">Jemima’s ebooks are published by <a href="https://princelingspublications.blogspot.co.uk/">Princelings Publications </a>through Amazon, Smashwords, iTunes, B&N, Kobo and more. Her paperbacks are distributed from Blurb by Ingrams. </cover></p><p><cover image="">Follow Jemima Pett on her blog – <a href="http://jemimapett.com">jemimapett.com</a> – or on Facebook, Twitter and other social media. </cover></p><p></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjeAzHIlWaYxB4g_ymdnWNLXGYwgTo7Rwd1C7kXc9rvL-DKdsnq4BDnOeNpg7hNe8noEoe1DnPtgQLYpjEw4o-wtzNi5o_X1PDH6FJL2rziywP6mofb3N-9BLSfOLsA0r4QMk4Kbabr_jD0XMuOxI8Yzrrtbnf3HTOzvlGZ_w6_ntvPbxXaGJHDU90=s770" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="770" data-original-width="592" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjeAzHIlWaYxB4g_ymdnWNLXGYwgTo7Rwd1C7kXc9rvL-DKdsnq4BDnOeNpg7hNe8noEoe1DnPtgQLYpjEw4o-wtzNi5o_X1PDH6FJL2rziywP6mofb3N-9BLSfOLsA0r4QMk4Kbabr_jD0XMuOxI8Yzrrtbnf3HTOzvlGZ_w6_ntvPbxXaGJHDU90=s320" width="246" /></a></p></div>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-74671011441613243412021-11-24T00:00:00.000-08:002021-11-24T00:00:00.213-08:00Sunrise<p>I'm still away adventuring, so here are a few lovely sunrises from this past August in the Sierra Nevada mountains. No commentary needed.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9QLLbWAtSiB8oDDAALEwC-sJWsT0hMwLVpTl621wNobsS2UqcPatJcMCLd9jTDInNe-KC1kVmoa61EtHiRTRqrfABCjP-1pXuTRcw4NipU5OeT9N1sAzjlvVaLPde8V2ZTrkUL5PQiSLj8ss7bTOGrLj0DXbvUCRyQAswXjBm12AXeL0NoPD_zJU=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1302" data-original-width="2048" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj9QLLbWAtSiB8oDDAALEwC-sJWsT0hMwLVpTl621wNobsS2UqcPatJcMCLd9jTDInNe-KC1kVmoa61EtHiRTRqrfABCjP-1pXuTRcw4NipU5OeT9N1sAzjlvVaLPde8V2ZTrkUL5PQiSLj8ss7bTOGrLj0DXbvUCRyQAswXjBm12AXeL0NoPD_zJU=w640-h406" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiLQR0A4HAvoKtysFPnPwPBw817PANPEsSWc6w1zgrRhnxpiitkATU1_csdCiVLRoq9PkLcBF7J6JTLSZI843BKb1VQljze_J2zvGjkE3R9iKi6dGSO-6nwS_QELYvQZ6W0sb9lnfh28OGVZEnwo9j5tCAu9OEaHnThvLmiu-awCeHGJ61Y7YqDI4A=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhSVXt9vwVjLj3G-slUcQVNGqZZ3oW-mesvl_gxaq_YU_X_WqgOIUfj-wtRaY97x3KloBUGhUR-gDvssb2-4RtWwkBJaHJzes8DQg7TkX4Mb4QuNNGhKU9b2gUgtWoeM_3UhQKXhwd24Aso2K_aCeExMoQJaK0lCcxco4XJiB7PhiHrpO1fju5KBW8=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhSVXt9vwVjLj3G-slUcQVNGqZZ3oW-mesvl_gxaq_YU_X_WqgOIUfj-wtRaY97x3KloBUGhUR-gDvssb2-4RtWwkBJaHJzes8DQg7TkX4Mb4QuNNGhKU9b2gUgtWoeM_3UhQKXhwd24Aso2K_aCeExMoQJaK0lCcxco4XJiB7PhiHrpO1fju5KBW8=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYC7Pkk3jttGs8Vxj2VcSIGyHykNsLDIbaGGQd-_qyXVmqBFTeXRQyLLyHXh1QQLFx86Gt2Uo2IQWo8AZkjrxPH_dFxKqoCMVrm3bdwTQDfxRCpR-4UzR8NG4jl0zNt26pDRnZUOgwiymF-UrdWL6LIGn33b0Pp6O5P8t2gn-48BJwtW6co8tAaOk=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYC7Pkk3jttGs8Vxj2VcSIGyHykNsLDIbaGGQd-_qyXVmqBFTeXRQyLLyHXh1QQLFx86Gt2Uo2IQWo8AZkjrxPH_dFxKqoCMVrm3bdwTQDfxRCpR-4UzR8NG4jl0zNt26pDRnZUOgwiymF-UrdWL6LIGn33b0Pp6O5P8t2gn-48BJwtW6co8tAaOk=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSKZuV6KYPmfMZ87Nr7mkUqYly-eI_QDzknNOjRajSSjcz8hyv3lgm9gDaMG1LdhuKWPa5vQSLzfriWdrysOz3ZsEkU5CjSYnU4s2pcBxOZq93v7N95Oo-RrwDHJOo6w7AGan0vcPXVH38rXvK9SA9u8qpur987Si0J9OKYRDTee5sH6B9MHRs3C0=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiSKZuV6KYPmfMZ87Nr7mkUqYly-eI_QDzknNOjRajSSjcz8hyv3lgm9gDaMG1LdhuKWPa5vQSLzfriWdrysOz3ZsEkU5CjSYnU4s2pcBxOZq93v7N95Oo-RrwDHJOo6w7AGan0vcPXVH38rXvK9SA9u8qpur987Si0J9OKYRDTee5sH6B9MHRs3C0=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgg28uQD3gSc78bSXtZgct8kznDYi0fgdkt3s3MoLfIxSCdGF7yqeV6WXbShSB02SoFtgylmtT68zfQeRNrXANcHGdA1r5wXGNWeAiyRV8huaBnAypcEdC0cf2XpTQXvOg1eLMcHjF79hMYNiZkzUWgc0cVbf-6el_qgbGOPiLQ-dETysl9MeLMSo4=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgg28uQD3gSc78bSXtZgct8kznDYi0fgdkt3s3MoLfIxSCdGF7yqeV6WXbShSB02SoFtgylmtT68zfQeRNrXANcHGdA1r5wXGNWeAiyRV8huaBnAypcEdC0cf2XpTQXvOg1eLMcHjF79hMYNiZkzUWgc0cVbf-6el_qgbGOPiLQ-dETysl9MeLMSo4=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYba852IYc0dO9CiZBfqOkIZSCkFLclzWTfvPBp6O06RCrAm9PKgQh_fgg6zm7j3E0j3pqFCtLCB9YBrChC1Kj4HnN6j6QHgdxfBSgzX70lVllnqZYHVoUyEUd0wfb4Xv8EmS1IHX_ddjP5-9H52Cl8O_QvcfXCfJDEXA72lXAI7ccu8n8Ot-XtPo=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYba852IYc0dO9CiZBfqOkIZSCkFLclzWTfvPBp6O06RCrAm9PKgQh_fgg6zm7j3E0j3pqFCtLCB9YBrChC1Kj4HnN6j6QHgdxfBSgzX70lVllnqZYHVoUyEUd0wfb4Xv8EmS1IHX_ddjP5-9H52Cl8O_QvcfXCfJDEXA72lXAI7ccu8n8Ot-XtPo=w480-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPBpjdfJwuYxr3DC-jK0r6AC3zV9maSzcf8qJbWFF8H4tWOep1MfkM6ujdHt8AAjy1-dYCYY0gGLq4vGV6_vg9RPZOj3pncCQqypXyhNHl7oevRPzjXBcLf3hgDtMlStc6cb2HGNdMRyjSBamAmzy9Q0e72M4dDzZYrdM1yymOCsmfvq7Bm4eZnOc=s2566" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1225" data-original-width="2566" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPBpjdfJwuYxr3DC-jK0r6AC3zV9maSzcf8qJbWFF8H4tWOep1MfkM6ujdHt8AAjy1-dYCYY0gGLq4vGV6_vg9RPZOj3pncCQqypXyhNHl7oevRPzjXBcLf3hgDtMlStc6cb2HGNdMRyjSBamAmzy9Q0e72M4dDzZYrdM1yymOCsmfvq7Bm4eZnOc=w640-h306" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><div> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</div><div><br /></div><div><span>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by </span><a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a><span>. <br /></span></div></div>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-4662699471253076222021-11-22T00:00:00.030-08:002021-11-22T00:00:00.211-08:00Spotlight: Nightmare on the Bike TrailI couldn't do a review this time because of my travel schedule, but I can say that I read and reviewed the first in this series, <i><a href="https://www.ninjalibrarian.com/2020/10/cozy-mystery-review-killer-outdoors-by.html" target="_blank">The Killer Outdoors</a>,</i> and found it a fun premise.<br />
<p style="text-align: center;"> <img alt="" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-172764" data-attachment-id="172764" data-comments-opened="1" data-image-caption="" data-image-description="" data-image-meta="{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}" data-image-title="NIGHTTMARE ON THE BIKE TRAIL BANNER 640" data-large-file="https://i1.wp.com/www.escapewithdollycas.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/10/NIGHTTMARE-ON-THE-BIKE-TRAIL-BANNER-640.jpg?fit=640%2C301&ssl=1" data-medium-file="https://i1.wp.com/www.escapewithdollycas.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/10/NIGHTTMARE-ON-THE-BIKE-TRAIL-BANNER-640.jpg?fit=300%2C141&ssl=1" data-orig-file="https://i1.wp.com/www.escapewithdollycas.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/10/NIGHTTMARE-ON-THE-BIKE-TRAIL-BANNER-640.jpg?fit=640%2C301&ssl=1" data-orig-size="640,301" data-permalink="https://www.escapewithdollycas.com/great-escapes-virtual-book-tours/upcoming-great-escapes-book-tours/nightmare-on-the-bike-trail-a-southwest-exposure-mystery-by-jodi-linton/nighttmare-on-the-bike-trail-banner-640/" height="301" src="https://i1.wp.com/www.escapewithdollycas.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/10/NIGHTTMARE-ON-THE-BIKE-TRAIL-BANNER-640.jpg?resize=640%2C301&ssl=1" width="640" /><br />
<b><a class="amzn_ps_bm_tl" data-amzn-asin="B08L2JFWDW" data-amzn-link-id="5053e78ebe03bea466e83a426cdb0ebb" data-amzn-ps-bm-keyword="Nightmare On The Bike Trail (A Southwest Exposure Mystery)" href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B08L2JFWDW/ref=as_li_bk_tl/?tag=dollycsthoug-20&linkId=5053e78ebe03bea466e83a426cdb0ebb&linkCode=ktl" id="amznPsBmLink_6633366" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">Nightmare On The Bike Trail (A Southwest Exposure Mystery)</a><img alt="" border="0" height="0" id="amznPsBmPixel_6633366" src="https://ir-na.amazon-adsystem.com/e/ir?source=bk&t=dollycsthoug-20&bm-id=default&l=ktl&linkId=5053e78ebe03bea466e83a426cdb0ebb&_cb=1634235654956" style="border: medium none; height: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 0px;" width="0" /></b><br />
<b>Cozy Mystery</b><br />
<b>4th in Series</b><br />
<b>Independently Published (November 9, 2021)</b><br />
<b>~180 Pages</b><br />
<b>Digital ASIN : B08L2JFWDW</b><br />
<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55896338-nightmare-on-the-bike-trail"><img alt="" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-10339" data-attachment-id="10339" data-comments-opened="1" data-image-caption="" data-image-description="" data-image-meta="{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":""}" data-image-title="goodreads-badge-add-plus" data-large-file="https://i0.wp.com/www.escapewithdollycas.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/goodreads-badge-add-plus-d700d4d3e3c0b346066731ac07b7fe47.png?fit=130%2C41&ssl=1" data-medium-file="https://i0.wp.com/www.escapewithdollycas.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/goodreads-badge-add-plus-d700d4d3e3c0b346066731ac07b7fe47.png?fit=130%2C41&ssl=1" data-orig-file="https://i0.wp.com/www.escapewithdollycas.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/goodreads-badge-add-plus-d700d4d3e3c0b346066731ac07b7fe47.png?fit=130%2C41&ssl=1" data-orig-size="130,41" data-permalink="https://www.escapewithdollycas.com/2013/06/05/cozy-wednesday-with-author-janet-bolin-giveaway-too/goodreads-badge-add-plus-d700d4d3e3c0b346066731ac07b7fe47/" height="41" src="https://i0.wp.com/www.escapewithdollycas.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/06/goodreads-badge-add-plus-d700d4d3e3c0b346066731ac07b7fe47.png?resize=130%2C41&ssl=1" width="130" /></a>
</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b> </b></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><b>Welcome to Bushwhack, New Mexico: home to tourists, the great outdoors, and murder…</b> <br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Andie Sullivan, adventure guide in the
mountain community of Bushwhack, NM, is gearing up for the annual
bicycle race hosted by her tour company. When a ghost from her and
sheriff Zac Mars’ past registers to participate—her suspicions are
raised. <br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">And then a gun goes off deep in the
wooded forest along the trail, leaving her and Zac to fight for their
future by revisiting past grievances. With lives at stake and secrets
opening old wounds, Andie must piece together the clues to solve a
decade old case she thought was closed. <br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">But time isn’t on her side and sometimes
even the best sleuth can miss a piece to the puzzle. Especially a cold
case clouded with jealously and pain. Will she spot the clue this time
or is it too late to make amends?</p><p style="text-align: justify;"> </p><h2 style="text-align: justify;">About the Author <br /></h2><p style="text-align: left;"><img alt="" class="aligncenter wp-image-168249" data-attachment-id="168249" data-comments-opened="1" data-image-caption="" data-image-description="" data-image-meta="{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}" data-image-title="KTS_jodi_0032_a" data-large-file="https://i0.wp.com/www.escapewithdollycas.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/KTS_jodi_0032_a.png?fit=643%2C964&ssl=1" data-medium-file="https://i0.wp.com/www.escapewithdollycas.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/KTS_jodi_0032_a.png?fit=200%2C300&ssl=1" data-orig-file="https://i0.wp.com/www.escapewithdollycas.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/KTS_jodi_0032_a.png?fit=2056%2C3084&ssl=1" data-orig-size="2056,3084" data-permalink="https://www.escapewithdollycas.com/great-escapes-virtual-book-tours/completed-tours-2021/raiders-of-the-campsite-a-southwest-exposure-mystery-by-jodi-linton/kts_jodi_0032_a/" data-recalc-dims="1" height="437" src="https://i0.wp.com/www.escapewithdollycas.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/KTS_jodi_0032_a.png?resize=291%2C437&ssl=1" width="291" /> <br /></p><p><strong>Jodi Linton</strong> is an author of several romance novels
and cozy mysteries. She pens funny, romantic, whodunnits during her days
in between being a carpool mom. She lives in Texas with her husband,
with who she runs the family day business with and two kids. When she
isn’t writing her next page turner, she likes to delve into her hobby of
finding all the cool, new makeup products to buy.</p>
<p><strong>Author Links</strong></p>
<ul><li><strong>BookBub:</strong> <a href="https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jodi-linton">https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jodi-linton</a></li><li><strong>Amazon</strong>: <a data-amzn-asin="B00IWG4KCI" href="https://www.amazon.com/Jodi-Linton/e/B00IWG4KCI/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_1">https://www.amazon.com/Jodi-Linton/e/B00IWG4KCI/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_1</a></li><li><strong>Goodreads:</strong> <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55141578-raiders-of-the-campsite">https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55141578-raiders-of-the-campsite</a></li><li><strong>Website:</strong> <a href="http://www.jodilinton.com/">jodilinton.com</a></li><li><strong>Facebook</strong>: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/JodiLintonBooks">https://www.facebook.com/JodiLintonBooks</a></li><li><strong>Newsletter:</strong> <a href="https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/s2j2k6">https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/s2j2k6</a></li><li><strong>Facebook reader group: </strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/JodiBookCorner">https://www.facebook.com/groups/JodiBookCorner</a></li></ul>
<p><strong>Purchase Link: <a href="https://amzn.to/3j2IASE" rel="noopener" target="_blank">Amazon</a> <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/nightmare-on-the-bike-trail-jodi-linton/1139796027?ean=2940165561047" rel="noopener" target="_blank">B&N</a></strong> <strong> <a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/nightmare-on-the-bike-trail" rel="noopener" target="_blank">Kobo</a> <a href="https://apple.co/3gaWj96" rel="noopener" target="_blank">iBooks</a></strong></p>
<p><strong>TOUR PARTICIPANTS</strong></p>
<p><strong>November 10 – <a href="https://imallaboutbooks.com">I’m All About Books</a> – SPOTLIGHT</strong></p>
<p><strong>November 11 – <a href="https://musingsbymaureen.blogspot.com/">Maureen’s Musings</a> – SPOTLIGHT</strong></p>
<p><strong>November 12 – <a href="https://www.literaryau.com">Literary Gold</a> – SPOTLIGHT</strong></p>
<p><strong>November 13 – <a href="http://www.brookeblogs.com">Brooke Blogs</a> – SPOTLIGHT</strong></p>
<p><strong>November 14 – <a href="https://ireadwhatyouwrite.com">I Read What You Write</a> – REVIEW</strong></p>
<p><strong>November 15 – <a href="http://www.nelliesbooknook.com">Nellie’s Book Nook</a> – REVIEW</strong></p>
<p><strong>November 16 – <a href="https://www.dianneascroft.com/blog/">Ascroft, eh?</a> – AUTHOR INTERVIEW</strong></p>
<p><strong>November 17 – <a href="http://novelsalive.com">Novels Alive</a> – AUTHOR INTERVIEW</strong></p>
<p><strong>November 17 – <a href="http://fuonlyknew.com/">FUONLYKNEW</a> – SPOTLIGHT</strong></p>
<p><strong>November 18 – <a href="http://www.escapewithdollycas.com/">Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book</a> – REVIEW</strong></p>
<p><strong>November 19 – <a href="https://booksaplentybookreviews.blogspot.com">Books a Plenty Book Reviews</a> – REVIEW</strong></p>
<p><strong>November 20 – <a href="https://celticladysreviews.blogspot.com/">Celticlady’s Reviews</a> – SPOTLIGHT</strong></p>
<p><strong>November 21 – <a href="https://saphsbooks.blogspot.com/">Sapphyria’s Book Reviews</a> – SPOTLIGHT</strong></p>
<p><strong>November 22 – <a href="https://www.ninjalibrarian.com/">The Ninja Librarian</a> – SPOTLIGHT</strong></p>
<p><strong>November 23 – <a href="http://www.instagram.com/BookishKelly2020">BookishKelly2020</a> – SPOTLIGHT </strong></p><p><strong><br /></strong></p><p><br /></p><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><div> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</div><div><br /></div><div><span>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by </span><a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a><span>. <br /></span></div></div><p><strong></strong></p><p style="text-align: justify;"> <br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"> </p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-1996479316224596092021-11-17T00:00:00.016-08:002021-11-17T00:00:00.177-08:00Flash-Fiction Flashback<p>This week's treat to help you remember I exist (and that I'm a writer) is a flashback post with a bit of sweet romance I enjoyed re-reading. I hope you do, too.</p><p> </p><p>
</p><h3 class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Under the Oak. A story in 10 very short chapters.</h3>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">
I<br />
The car coasted to a stop under a big oak that shadowed the pull-out. The
lights went out. It was invisible from the road, even if there had been any
traffic to see it. At ten on a Tuesday night, no one would drive down that
road.<br />
<br />
"Is this the place?"<br />
<br />
"Close as I can tell. I wasn't paying as much attention as I might have,
last time."<br />
<br />
The passenger peered through the window into the darkness outside. "I
can't make it out. I just can't tell."<br />
<br />
"You'll see," said the driver. "It'll come back to you." He
turned the key, and the motor died. The sounds and scents of a summer night
came in through the open windows in the sudden quiet. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other time had been autumn.<br />
<br />
II<br />
It was 1959. In some places, the country was gearing up to the Sixties. In
Boondocks, the Fifties were just getting into full swing. The girls at
Boondocks High were into roller skates, poodle skirts, and saddle shoes. The
boys wore button-down shirts and ties to school. They smoked behind the
bleachers, but only tobacco. Other things also happened behind the bleachers. When
a girl "went to live with an aunt" everyone knew what had happened,
but they pretended they didn't. They still held sock-hops in the gym on Friday
nights.<br />
<br />
III<br />
Calvin Bergen had lived in Chicago until the start of his Senior year. Then his
father took the chance to leave his job, which paid well but would never go
anywhere, and go run the Boondocks distributorship. It was a huge advance, even
though he took a pay cut to do it. That didn't matter, because living in
Boondocks cost next to nothing. And he was his own boss. That made him happy.<br />
<br />
Calvin also liked being his own boss, and deeply resented being dragged to
Boondocks.<br />
<br />
IV<br />
After a few weeks at Boondocks High, Calvin changed his mind. In Chicago he'd
been one punk among many, chasing whatever was cool. In Boondocks he was the
master of all things Big City, which was to say, all things Cool. When he
showed up at school in a white t-shirt with a pack of cigarettes rolled up in
the sleeve, the next day half the boys copied him. Mostly they took off their
shirts and ties after leaving home, in the hopes that their parents wouldn't
find out.<br />
<br />
It took two more days for the Principal to announce a rule prohibiting the
wearing of t-shirts in school.<br />
<br />
V<br />
Calvin came to school with no shirt at all, and was suspended for three days.<br />
<br />
VI<br />
Dottie Calhoun was a straight A student. Her father owned the farm supply
store, and she had more pocket-money than any other girl. She was generous, so
in spite of being rich, she was popular with the girls as well as the boys. The
teachers called on her first because she always had her work done.<br />
<br />
In twelve years of schooling, Dottie had never seen the Principal except
socially. Dottie was pretty, smart, and terribly afraid of doing anything
wrong. She dated all the boys--once. She always turned down a second date. Midway
through her Junior year she'd started to repeat, having run out of boys before
she ran out of Friday nights, but she still didn’t go with any boy twice in a
row.<br />
<br />
VII<br />
Dottie noticed Calvin as soon as he arrived at Boondocks High. He wasn't
especially handsome, but he had the glamor of distant places and the Big City. Even
before the t-shirt episode everyone knew he was a rebel and a born leader.<br />
<br />
In History class, when he was tilting his chair against the wall and pretending
to ignore the teacher, he caught Dottie looking at him. She flirted with her
eyes and he turned away, looking bored. She was too inexperienced to know he
had done it on purpose.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Calvin had hooked the uncatchable
Dottie Calhoun on the first cast.<br />
<br />
VIII<br />
They started dating after Calvin’s suspension ended. He was still wearing
t-shirts to school and serving detention every day in consequence. Dottie
struggled with her conscience. On the third day she went into the girls'
bathroom when she got to school, and rolled her skirt waist until her knees
showed.<br />
<br />
In Detention, she sat behind Calvin and slid a note between the seats. "Meet
me at the soda fountain after we get out of here."<br />
<br />
He sent one note back. It read, "Forget sodas. Meet me behind the
bleachers."<br />
<br />
Dottie had never met a boy behind the bleachers. That was what girls did who
later went to visit far-off aunts.<br />
<br />
IX<br />
They didn't stay behind the bleachers. It was crowded there, even an hour after
school let out. They walked together to the parking lot and got into his car, a
two-year-old Chevrolet. Dottie could almost hear her mother's outraged gasp
when she slid onto the seat, her skirt once again above her knees. She banished
all thoughts of her mother.<br />
<br />
They drove randomly until dark, and then Calvin pulled off onto the shoulder
under a tree that hid them almost completely from passing cars, if there had
been any.<br />
<br />
He turned off the motor, rolled down his window to let in the sounds and smells
of an autumn night, and reached for her.<br />
<br />
X<br />
"I can't believe you even found a '57 Chevy," Dottie said. "It's
exactly like the one you had then."<br />
<br />
"I know." Calvin looked towards her. In the dark, she was still the
17-year-old he'd taken parking 55 years ago. "I wanted it to be just like
that night."<br />
<br />
"And modern cars are too cramped," Dottie said. "They don't have
these lovely bench seats." She sighed happily, and he leaned in to kiss
her. Just like that night 55 years before, his hand slipped up her shirt.<br />
<br />
They'd made the usual mistakes and lived through the results. But this part was
always good.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><div> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</div><div><br /></div><div><span>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by </span><a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a><span>. <br /></span></div></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style> <br /></p><p><br /></p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-57011868348437383102021-11-10T00:00:00.015-08:002021-11-10T00:00:00.194-08:00While I'm away...<p> ... I thought I'd share a few extra photos each week, just for fun. </p><p>Today, a few more of the amazing <a href="https://www.ninjalibrarian.com/2021/10/photo-friday-golden-cathedral.html">Golden Cathedral</a>.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhrEvsccZ1qksDlJT0Bow2G-PDJF7Dfh5Xs_FVk7Oji4evuWpRJSYYoUf9-Bb-ZkWG_BqMsbiFakxeh-RhUY31fyRPaBHk4f9erN3QVR0biksGcw0ga1TfwyZ3yAnOHackV4hHz6k98oYtBv9SDjVKERwl0yC5XH9J7wLA0tTGJpeWE-lfRPd-fV78=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhrEvsccZ1qksDlJT0Bow2G-PDJF7Dfh5Xs_FVk7Oji4evuWpRJSYYoUf9-Bb-ZkWG_BqMsbiFakxeh-RhUY31fyRPaBHk4f9erN3QVR0biksGcw0ga1TfwyZ3yAnOHackV4hHz6k98oYtBv9SDjVKERwl0yC5XH9J7wLA0tTGJpeWE-lfRPd-fV78=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgWxhd3Y4nC8BvBiMNTVOfz047TPTYatVVzu0ILSF_e0MkICofDHlrzpHng0TE2d3iAnRXaumjiFmIh-5Jn-PxJ0mrtlwD6CrNj9qWzaM-q9xgXBks9O_-CGq-g7-Us5iT4Y-pT1SBDjWlvPrHHm8WuYx49z4D_HFmnsBP-KWSbTgDmg3FrK6NvHH0=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgWxhd3Y4nC8BvBiMNTVOfz047TPTYatVVzu0ILSF_e0MkICofDHlrzpHng0TE2d3iAnRXaumjiFmIh-5Jn-PxJ0mrtlwD6CrNj9qWzaM-q9xgXBks9O_-CGq-g7-Us5iT4Y-pT1SBDjWlvPrHHm8WuYx49z4D_HFmnsBP-KWSbTgDmg3FrK6NvHH0=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh15WHJGYN1f5IFEghpXhWm3GiYk5HiWJreDcm-RUHYIgUvwRFKYiEavYq8u-eGxgpJapsUHUrqMkVa6WeOh5t5uvWuJH3nl7nMhw4RkQA93xXi2zqQN2MXOwRB1jJkql55tPlXmNLY1fY3izQynmm3xXLrVcqt0F64hDvjgmNu658ayOBh9VOEKLI=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh15WHJGYN1f5IFEghpXhWm3GiYk5HiWJreDcm-RUHYIgUvwRFKYiEavYq8u-eGxgpJapsUHUrqMkVa6WeOh5t5uvWuJH3nl7nMhw4RkQA93xXi2zqQN2MXOwRB1jJkql55tPlXmNLY1fY3izQynmm3xXLrVcqt0F64hDvjgmNu658ayOBh9VOEKLI=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></div><br /><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><div> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</div><div><br /></div><div><span>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by </span><a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a><span>. <br /></span></div></div>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-42433317048871985682021-11-03T00:00:00.010-07:002021-11-03T00:00:00.197-07:00IWSG: Gone Hiking<p>I'm not participating this month, because I'm somewhere in the air at this moment, winging my way to Nepal. But I encourage all of you to click on the badge below and check out what other members of the IWSG are up to! If you leave a comment here, it could be a month before I get back to you. BTW, my one-word answer to the question below is "depends."<br /></p><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/p/iwsg-sign-up.html" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCN9HFm1m82KdskQehVwzMcsXDF4prZtjNU9d-rJMpUhkUPyz8uKDdMGqMPFSLxAEBmkyYjn5uTynNDpGRrZWH386gXJLkkTZkCmdPTBWeZTTCLMrm4sVzdmUCH4ZP21c_YCVO49_SCg/s320/Insecure+Writers+Support+Group+Badge.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Purpose:</b> To share and encourage.
Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing
foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer
assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all
kinds!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Posting:</b> The first Wednesday of every month is officially <b>Insecure Writer’s Support Group</b>
day. Post your thoughts on your own blog. Talk about your doubts and
the fears you have conquered. Discuss your struggles and triumphs. Offer
a word of encouragement for others who are struggling. Visit others in
the group and connect with your fellow writer - aim for a dozen new
people each time - and return comments. This group is all about
connecting!<span style="background-color: yellow;"><b> Be sure to link
to this page and display the badge in your post. And please be sure your
avatar links back to your blog! Otherwise, when you leave a comment,
people can't find you to comment back.</b></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Let’s rock the neurotic writing world!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Our Twitter handle is @TheIWSG and hashtag is #IWSG.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Every month, we announce a question that
members can answer in their IWSG post. These questions may prompt you
to share advice, insight, a personal experience or story. Include your
answer to the question in your IWSG post or let it inspire your post if
you are struggling with something to say. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Remember, the question is optional! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: yellow;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b> November 3 question - What's harder to do, coming up with your book title or writing the blurb? </b></span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The awesome co-hosts for the November 3 posting of the IWSG are <b><a _blank="" href="http://kimlajevardi.com/”target=">Kim Lajevardi,</a> <a href="http://victoriamarielees.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Victoria Marie Lees,</a> <a href="http://joylenebutler.com/blog" target="_blank">Joylene Nowell Butler,</a> <a href="http://erikabeebe.com/" target="_blank">Erika Beebe,</a></b> and <b><a href="http://leelowery.com" target="_blank">Lee Lowery!</a></b></span></div></div></div>
Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-37635192571233515612021-11-01T00:00:00.164-07:002021-11-01T00:00:00.209-07:00Middle Grade Monday: Helen Dore Boylston<p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img alt="Sue Barton Nurses Series eBook (7 Book Series)" class="s-image" data-image-index="13" data-image-latency="s-product-image" data-image-load="" data-image-source-density="1" src="https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/B1KoX+PbrBS._AC_UY218_.png" /></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This isn't actually a review of Sue Barton, or any of Helen Dore Boylston's other books. Instead, I wanted to talk about the author, and what I discovered when I read her bio in the new Kindle editions of the classic Sue Barton nursing books.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">For many of us of a certain age (and in the case of these books, a fair bit older, as the first was written in the 1930s), these books were a childhood delight. For some, I'm sure, it influenced their decisions to become nurses (my own desire to emulate the main character, who is as red-headed as I am, lasted only until I thought about it for five minutes). But a part of me had always assumed that a) Boylston might be as much of a fiction as Caroline Keene (Nancy Drew) and/or b) this was totally made up.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Imagine my surprise on discovering that Helen Dore Boylston was actually a nurse, that she served as a nurse in WWI (I told you these dated way back), and that she wrote books besides this series and her Carol Page, Actress series.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img alt="Carol Page the Actress eBook Series (4 Book Series)" class="s-image" data-image-index="12" data-image-latency="s-product-image" data-image-load="" data-image-source-density="1" height="172" src="https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/B1BUBlwPUkS._AC_UY218_.png" width="200" /> </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Most notably, Boylston wrote a light little diary of her nursing experience in the Great War (yeah, remember when it was possible to think of a single war that was going to end all wars?).</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img alt="Sister (Annotated): The War Diary of a Nurse" class="s-image" data-image-index="11" data-image-latency="s-product-image" data-image-load="" data-image-source-density="1" height="200" src="https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/91yIxZ4iT-L._AC_UY218_.jpg" width="150" /> </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I was struck by this memoir because, though there are allusions to nastiness, suffering, and the death of many people she knew, nurses and soldiers, there is one thing that overrides that and sets this apart from some men's memoirs of the war: she was happy there. And why? Because she was out in the world doing something interesting, exciting, and important. Yeah, not the usual fate of young women in 1917-18, and still less after the war.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Boylston had so much trouble settling into the expected ruts that after the war she went back to Europe with the Red Cross. There she met Rose Wilder Lane--yes, the daughter of Laura Ingalls Wilder, who was a writer before her mother was. That led to <i>Travels With Zenobia, </i>an account of the two women's 1926 trip by car from Paris to Albania (with their French maid, of course). </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img alt="432700" src="https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1257779362l/432700.jpg" /> <br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Boylston and Lane lived together for several years, first in Albania and then in the US. For a time it looked like she would be settling down for good on Rocky Ridge (the Wilder's farm in the Ozarks) and the two women would be writers together. Then the Great Depression hit.<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Whatever happened besides financial strains, Boylston ended up back east, working as a nurse, which was probably a good thing for the writer. Sue Barton came out of those years and she found she could make a living off her writing. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Boylston denied that Sue was her, but I sure saw a lot of similarities between the two, including the tendency to charge headlong into things that won the author her nickname, Troub, as in Trouble. She did, of course, make Sue take a path she herself had rejected. Sue marries and has a family, and while she struggles with a sense that she's not using her talents or training, repeatedly decided that mothering is the most important job.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I think the author sold out to the publishers on that one. Sue Barton and Carol Page were very early examples of what we now call Young Adult books (I've seen them also referred to as "girls' series" or "career books"). Anyone want to bet that, in addition to encouraging girls to pursue (suitable) careers, the publishers also wanted to reinforce traditional roles? The last of those books, which actually kind of leaves the question open of whether Sue will keep working, was published in 1952--a period when women were being strongly pushed back into the home after discovering independence (again) during the second World War.<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">For all that, Sue is a pretty remarkable woman for the time, one who never gives up entirely on her career, however much it takes a back seat to parenthood. A secondary character, Sue's friend Kitty, is even more interesting as she never appears to date men at all. I may need to read the Carol Page books to find out how Boylston handles it in those (all written during WWII, another period when women were being called on to do "men's jobs").</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In all, I found my reading of both the fiction and the non-fiction both enjoyable and thought-provoking. For the author, that would be mission accomplished.<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">*The biographical information in this post has been gleaned from the book bios, the intro and afterword to <i>Zenobia </i>and <i>Sister,</i> and the Wikipedia article on Helen Dore Boylston.</span><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"> </p><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><div> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</div><div><br /></div><div><span>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by </span><a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a><span>. <br /></span></div></div><p style="text-align: left;"> </p><p style="text-align: left;"> <br /></p><p></p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-23752742984103622442021-10-29T00:00:00.002-07:002021-10-29T00:00:00.208-07:00Photo Friday: Zebra and Tunnel Slots<p>I know I reported on Zebra last year, but this time I managed to get a phone, at least, up into the good stuff. And before anyone asks: we checked forecasts and did some serious visual scans of the drainage area for the slot before going in.<br /></p><p>Here's the scoop: <br />We are still in the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, and in fact only a few miles from the <a href="https://www.ninjalibrarian.com/2021/10/photo-friday-golden-cathedral.html" target="_blank">Golden Cathedral</a>, which I reported on last week.<br /></p><p>The full Zebra-Tunnel loop is somewhere in the 6-mile range, but there's not much climbing, as Harris Wash at that point hasn't dropped much below the level of the road. Zebra is a very tight slot, not for the claustrophobic! Tunnel slot is easy, though accessing the top end involved a little scrambling.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEij8Y9949UP-LRb1Heo6GSBDjKpS96SQsZdmq9ALaZZQhoW_Y2tP2rFeMeJtfLfP7o5byv9spuDn0p4g3CR_iEolIRLGfFv8ytoKsW27-SgqSTfQ8051u9ewaWVBNpPzrC4scaeayWWHmTxAK3Hq_YkhG57SpB2Zu3e0TvFkHh2M7bC2f8lOeVEZ-I=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEij8Y9949UP-LRb1Heo6GSBDjKpS96SQsZdmq9ALaZZQhoW_Y2tP2rFeMeJtfLfP7o5byv9spuDn0p4g3CR_iEolIRLGfFv8ytoKsW27-SgqSTfQ8051u9ewaWVBNpPzrC4scaeayWWHmTxAK3Hq_YkhG57SpB2Zu3e0TvFkHh2M7bC2f8lOeVEZ-I=w640-h426" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As usual, an early start to beat the heat.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgWpqDfkkfcIOHk0gP3FDVBUJFkkpL-AKTSdaDxPKjn8S39uJYOukQTTcrZOcEf6VOc6NjNZivuoJ9y3zSbiSdEOROZvJoINunDEkp20jjp-iO0HEF1Pk6iS35t6WdUIVOCrAnIEJYpGc-MhlnWJ_z_l62yvaGlawBkjIHE4d4KFq8JQQOCG3TnDRA=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgWpqDfkkfcIOHk0gP3FDVBUJFkkpL-AKTSdaDxPKjn8S39uJYOukQTTcrZOcEf6VOc6NjNZivuoJ9y3zSbiSdEOROZvJoINunDEkp20jjp-iO0HEF1Pk6iS35t6WdUIVOCrAnIEJYpGc-MhlnWJ_z_l62yvaGlawBkjIHE4d4KFq8JQQOCG3TnDRA=w640-h426" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zooming in to admire the cross-bedding in the sandstone</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwPY7dkoA7GR_c4adbJxxOi4mmsQleeSmQvbjYkimjtaLgv-RzXSEj_OtHwvrz-1-DoKcQYgt9r_-hl9tUXNNzlGvnTlFzEERZ3b7n7hIXWSVN5icnH8UcsHhKI_pOeF7mkZqIJxrqeJGlwS-GpqxOaRnRa-j1tEilhSg_Cok-76AsdXID4UW47Wg=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhwPY7dkoA7GR_c4adbJxxOi4mmsQleeSmQvbjYkimjtaLgv-RzXSEj_OtHwvrz-1-DoKcQYgt9r_-hl9tUXNNzlGvnTlFzEERZ3b7n7hIXWSVN5icnH8UcsHhKI_pOeF7mkZqIJxrqeJGlwS-GpqxOaRnRa-j1tEilhSg_Cok-76AsdXID4UW47Wg=w426-h640" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mouth of the slot, and the first hint that the rains that left a lot of mud down along the Escalante might not have all drained off here.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEguky44gv77pWVEvwuQQaAxtW4SjVHFxGCXg10VC8W_zBgdhnj9uwMm1qetCrpmts5r58ZgvxXlbNkeLZb19zdH65Th4AAR0wTx424nBeSR98oONCSwpa-OmZsgag5NavinFNNSFmK9uuM-nHznICWo5sqtG7NROIQI-0OC-sja6485sBGLfyaY--M=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEguky44gv77pWVEvwuQQaAxtW4SjVHFxGCXg10VC8W_zBgdhnj9uwMm1qetCrpmts5r58ZgvxXlbNkeLZb19zdH65Th4AAR0wTx424nBeSR98oONCSwpa-OmZsgag5NavinFNNSFmK9uuM-nHznICWo5sqtG7NROIQI-0OC-sja6485sBGLfyaY--M=w480-h640" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We sent the tallest guy in first. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpB1zlt1UWztuOYW3svGcc6TunQYVFzcEtMK3qB0T6G58vtjL8LZrYjfxJzpU_GJwiNDskMtGxkMkomBub9fUEgvIpzdD2_aStJ8zCBMKyNZWsHDO6DncUCYXTkWVIcx7mla0uwSLYmLmIg53CqIAmVOoEj57fKXqr8s4ha6BphLOvazvxEJn22yM=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpB1zlt1UWztuOYW3svGcc6TunQYVFzcEtMK3qB0T6G58vtjL8LZrYjfxJzpU_GJwiNDskMtGxkMkomBub9fUEgvIpzdD2_aStJ8zCBMKyNZWsHDO6DncUCYXTkWVIcx7mla0uwSLYmLmIg53CqIAmVOoEj57fKXqr8s4ha6BphLOvazvxEJn22yM=w480-h640" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The next-tallest. <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilHYvfzTXEK97A0H37vTfKckgHE77OSikSTK-mW0jsp-C5pZTMFG2VmeMjoy-wIE7eZOmjuIJ8gpcz0pp9DoVIkLtni1XcOj6vvOKWIu8w90Q2xIE_CekgBgR9gEy1xhIvGUswJuBj-ROO2IiA85xtbSCci6E9SOJ63mNdqgvbbd3cAdzFlXGXTzk=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEilHYvfzTXEK97A0H37vTfKckgHE77OSikSTK-mW0jsp-C5pZTMFG2VmeMjoy-wIE7eZOmjuIJ8gpcz0pp9DoVIkLtni1XcOj6vvOKWIu8w90Q2xIE_CekgBgR9gEy1xhIvGUswJuBj-ROO2IiA85xtbSCci6E9SOJ63mNdqgvbbd3cAdzFlXGXTzk=w480-h640" title="Photo by Griffen Dempsey" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The slot got too narrow at the bottom, so we had to wedge the feet and sidle along.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwZE1NfLhC4zHyQBVH0sKD91UQiBqbgBAMqc-nBBzqUE_a6bXiCyDUr13obTXm1t77NmfdDnSE2VidECC2eYy_efNjVaybxAN78Jee83mSxBdAmZbF86S1OY5JQRo2c7R-1ZBrE--l7lQFchOefcg2nGyUTfnicSgH6bbSVGjHb_vSzKkjHOV-2Mg=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiwZE1NfLhC4zHyQBVH0sKD91UQiBqbgBAMqc-nBBzqUE_a6bXiCyDUr13obTXm1t77NmfdDnSE2VidECC2eYy_efNjVaybxAN78Jee83mSxBdAmZbF86S1OY5JQRo2c7R-1ZBrE--l7lQFchOefcg2nGyUTfnicSgH6bbSVGjHb_vSzKkjHOV-2Mg=w480-h640" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After a couple of tricky moves, we reached the heart of the slot.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjqE7edy0pa3hyq0LxfgJqeFKkNrSEoKeB9ig42Ho3PX4Y78OLhsXVF1sB8aTMprOB7LG4CI5EbLAgwTHtuVMq2lNbalzkYtJfFfL-LKg35DuSZa_Uk9MzSY-fDVuSv7BJhWRTUOIML6cTv4plTDBCg8-l72RPQHd8o-k9GXNApJ9M4LOYxDPmUDvc=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjqE7edy0pa3hyq0LxfgJqeFKkNrSEoKeB9ig42Ho3PX4Y78OLhsXVF1sB8aTMprOB7LG4CI5EbLAgwTHtuVMq2lNbalzkYtJfFfL-LKg35DuSZa_Uk9MzSY-fDVuSv7BJhWRTUOIML6cTv4plTDBCg8-l72RPQHd8o-k9GXNApJ9M4LOYxDPmUDvc=w480-h640" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgL3x8tspRAiNNPzQDumhHu87ee0DGY9T5yntlkyuq47No7d_nf_DdcssrTCNm79PIBnmoQ0f4lM5WmD8qEAwR5KC9uwL66ZQTp_DJKKhTxbqWxnT7e2qVcbUabXA7S-oVCAgFMNQ-6txd9hRudkx5RwX6If7UdYOngws8cR1m9s5eVV-kXmQMWJmU=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgL3x8tspRAiNNPzQDumhHu87ee0DGY9T5yntlkyuq47No7d_nf_DdcssrTCNm79PIBnmoQ0f4lM5WmD8qEAwR5KC9uwL66ZQTp_DJKKhTxbqWxnT7e2qVcbUabXA7S-oVCAgFMNQ-6txd9hRudkx5RwX6If7UdYOngws8cR1m9s5eVV-kXmQMWJmU=w480-h640" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiLkhdIjtFpglHZbKw3LECH6GGFU3KNzyTdMcqGJAfek2tsPo3ZNqw2GiEpvANss9yN9eFDCnLp59YTC1I8mwJlO8RdMzoe600VyqCrbqpLgzk-bwd8-LBMVD4Jdbhhw6VzwvtP3cyTDNbQoLzEqUxkOh0ugFJaetb_8I6ZN01cMIAYMmWN4qtXO9c=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiLkhdIjtFpglHZbKw3LECH6GGFU3KNzyTdMcqGJAfek2tsPo3ZNqw2GiEpvANss9yN9eFDCnLp59YTC1I8mwJlO8RdMzoe600VyqCrbqpLgzk-bwd8-LBMVD4Jdbhhw6VzwvtP3cyTDNbQoLzEqUxkOh0ugFJaetb_8I6ZN01cMIAYMmWN4qtXO9c=w480-h640" title="Photo by Griffen Dempsey" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhcXAyeylUejPFsqvp8-QY77kM2p1k8KUsB-4wVJ3WOWYqQGonvCzTcVc3-p_yb1yKVFP-Tw2VBvmZhyKjMVvThxDuOl_sSiaBP4QX7Uhhuq5W-VKz44I9YW8MxTQACjpT3jjQLlTdzGzWy_r6-qAJX2u5E5hGFpHxe7Qd6q27ncILKQqYtuzHhZtE=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhcXAyeylUejPFsqvp8-QY77kM2p1k8KUsB-4wVJ3WOWYqQGonvCzTcVc3-p_yb1yKVFP-Tw2VBvmZhyKjMVvThxDuOl_sSiaBP4QX7Uhhuq5W-VKz44I9YW8MxTQACjpT3jjQLlTdzGzWy_r6-qAJX2u5E5hGFpHxe7Qd6q27ncILKQqYtuzHhZtE=w480-h640" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqYyuIpMvOSW6iNf6E3g0GC1Fz7roob3qUT7KB5SGoEqlsgy5CRM05aEChyeINdwGu3pOjClUZp9Lohwgh97xT_4CnE1eyZ53Ymb1Lx0VbuC3ky83DZdh4qcuk_HNJRWpodIl636yV3NftyBMoME58LBisQHKlVofzF3ziC6e98YsZaBhPR8mgJSk=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgqYyuIpMvOSW6iNf6E3g0GC1Fz7roob3qUT7KB5SGoEqlsgy5CRM05aEChyeINdwGu3pOjClUZp9Lohwgh97xT_4CnE1eyZ53Ymb1Lx0VbuC3ky83DZdh4qcuk_HNJRWpodIl636yV3NftyBMoME58LBisQHKlVofzF3ziC6e98YsZaBhPR8mgJSk=w480-h640" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This wall--rising beyond a pool of unknown depth--made a definitive end to our explorations.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgg4ewvP_0tEobkGTvC6PlgYD9bfxG9klSlaowC2zgxp6hJ_JG--0fpzF7Bv75dqMfJpg392n2WRU_pneIfm2JQPG285XGUtTii2QbJ8gQLY27uOk7O55BW8P2ptUYdRhynSOYzrZ08boQBvM6LtTlJiVm5WGw0YUJ-z4_qd001ErLeBJ0j6rcKp98=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgg4ewvP_0tEobkGTvC6PlgYD9bfxG9klSlaowC2zgxp6hJ_JG--0fpzF7Bv75dqMfJpg392n2WRU_pneIfm2JQPG285XGUtTii2QbJ8gQLY27uOk7O55BW8P2ptUYdRhynSOYzrZ08boQBvM6LtTlJiVm5WGw0YUJ-z4_qd001ErLeBJ0j6rcKp98=w480-h640" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back to light and warmth<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhU0k5Eto-QOYRgXAFZMfbDHrU630qE7odNaVQpdCYIqqoEy_VCh1Tycy-dXJsk5qxcHK1u2U0dEV9e1T088dSizI_ZSMWr2v4HB4iAsWsbG3ukgjbxm7vxCIqMPnutmfrxI9y_fT8KComRFn0xcuHJeMqhMkPAEXZa7dA72QQQHaCkBSoANihFyVE=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhU0k5Eto-QOYRgXAFZMfbDHrU630qE7odNaVQpdCYIqqoEy_VCh1Tycy-dXJsk5qxcHK1u2U0dEV9e1T088dSizI_ZSMWr2v4HB4iAsWsbG3ukgjbxm7vxCIqMPnutmfrxI9y_fT8KComRFn0xcuHJeMqhMkPAEXZa7dA72QQQHaCkBSoANihFyVE=w640-h426" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Never saw anything quite like this.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi4bG9hPjtTDPhUXJ9FbAA1UPEwexSo2QcXV0GO1CCYB7KPxLx9-ojAOrfzLlxkm6LVvIHQERRuLM8Hr1sQOzDY6nJN3h9IzHOMkWV_9_FuuDQaxuMJYVfnMKeBqEIjYqNjVKQIGvjvUaTJqAmipujxvuZTkoSE7bIrVrFsJn3ZRfftdCCrNaEsNGQ=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi4bG9hPjtTDPhUXJ9FbAA1UPEwexSo2QcXV0GO1CCYB7KPxLx9-ojAOrfzLlxkm6LVvIHQERRuLM8Hr1sQOzDY6nJN3h9IzHOMkWV_9_FuuDQaxuMJYVfnMKeBqEIjYqNjVKQIGvjvUaTJqAmipujxvuZTkoSE7bIrVrFsJn3ZRfftdCCrNaEsNGQ=w640-h426" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These iron-based accretions have eroded from the sandstone. Some research by our companion (thanks, Zeke!) revealed they are known as "Moqui Marbles". There were thousands of them on the way between the two canyons.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>More fun textures along the way.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjUHBhMNFVM8SPMK5zqx-N41YL0NOnUXSiw3N5tEgZNICcrqJWotH9uwwhMKsn68xJ0KPJZ3Cjls9PcXzUmZX7jjifMy4hM3la_ItmCqzpLoSghiFX7A6kaZ8NIZNHikDv13g9yYa5cYyJmAinxCJXX1_KsdVV6jOTTbQB00R5VG-1a1j5tmvSQL1E=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjUHBhMNFVM8SPMK5zqx-N41YL0NOnUXSiw3N5tEgZNICcrqJWotH9uwwhMKsn68xJ0KPJZ3Cjls9PcXzUmZX7jjifMy4hM3la_ItmCqzpLoSghiFX7A6kaZ8NIZNHikDv13g9yYa5cYyJmAinxCJXX1_KsdVV6jOTTbQB00R5VG-1a1j5tmvSQL1E=w426-h640" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Water-polished stripes<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhA_CVoF6ZR73gMaz9_QsvutdF9iEv53tdmB6sklH0yFxDVpa2nOSD1p7eKOYzZUrEFgQ3T3VrGkM96U01HTp0I5Tvs0xozj6Qx0M04ak0uxIHnOxlNtAYuDNmC_tu10M1tcPpy86JEVfdm9t4AWgQFwqHnTlIvhUlGq5rNxQ8YhUvpI2B3WKHGw4o=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhA_CVoF6ZR73gMaz9_QsvutdF9iEv53tdmB6sklH0yFxDVpa2nOSD1p7eKOYzZUrEFgQ3T3VrGkM96U01HTp0I5Tvs0xozj6Qx0M04ak0uxIHnOxlNtAYuDNmC_tu10M1tcPpy86JEVfdm9t4AWgQFwqHnTlIvhUlGq5rNxQ8YhUvpI2B3WKHGw4o=w640-h426" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNDLIxy54L4tSvKcty3_EGIY-wtORhJljLbBowyaxwq5Xhu57GMoC4Y6SSLmCpYiEUc2nVSsUHRcoyJHmNCUtkiwS69ZXmNKwmBzD2uY8-CIkoc4FUTYt_KNVxvExKf6BY9oDcSbhxXOV2LngKkRCuIAwhmkdxhreWP_GhBu2F59-fqS5G2Zqaqz4=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgNDLIxy54L4tSvKcty3_EGIY-wtORhJljLbBowyaxwq5Xhu57GMoC4Y6SSLmCpYiEUc2nVSsUHRcoyJHmNCUtkiwS69ZXmNKwmBzD2uY8-CIkoc4FUTYt_KNVxvExKf6BY9oDcSbhxXOV2LngKkRCuIAwhmkdxhreWP_GhBu2F59-fqS5G2Zqaqz4=w640-h480" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p>Tunnel slot. Close enough to a real tunnel, if not complete (for the life of me, I can't recall if I actually checked!). <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiP5wbV_T3I8Y1i-4B74v2DzvUuWgPLnrwBM83cVJGYqF94oIJDewqp1yZsxOKu4Lj6egORUwHQ7mYjf6JqhUYEZd3VX13IPIXIAxIy-LTgUqMY8oY94JhpHF4tn_YKVPNnoZzhibD2SEZ-yOwESBbT6g8vzaSTGW184e0KSREL6LiQzJGj2vddp5c=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiP5wbV_T3I8Y1i-4B74v2DzvUuWgPLnrwBM83cVJGYqF94oIJDewqp1yZsxOKu4Lj6egORUwHQ7mYjf6JqhUYEZd3VX13IPIXIAxIy-LTgUqMY8oY94JhpHF4tn_YKVPNnoZzhibD2SEZ-yOwESBbT6g8vzaSTGW184e0KSREL6LiQzJGj2vddp5c=w426-h640" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></div><p> Emerging into the world.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhWzq6WA20-OctW8Isi-tPJFHubHrR0m0R0_ixMpy1O4x60H1BSnJu1_uk6A0fSFTqrD-CKgnr9PmzMHbPy9MT-ALr1875ST1ufruBa--O_r4XwHvcqsJq6ccPMmsmzMQHsKUne02E-0dm6fWeWTdtS0W9LQw5w4vyNHDhZ7g0rJMQsZk2wFvKJKk0=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhWzq6WA20-OctW8Isi-tPJFHubHrR0m0R0_ixMpy1O4x60H1BSnJu1_uk6A0fSFTqrD-CKgnr9PmzMHbPy9MT-ALr1875ST1ufruBa--O_r4XwHvcqsJq6ccPMmsmzMQHsKUne02E-0dm6fWeWTdtS0W9LQw5w4vyNHDhZ7g0rJMQsZk2wFvKJKk0=w480-h640" title="Photo Copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></div><br />And then a 2 1/2 mile hike back to the car, and off to town for lunch!<p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><br />Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-2778577549946091862021-10-28T11:06:00.003-07:002021-10-28T13:52:35.307-07:00Still hiking<p>I have a few more photos for you while I'm away. I really can't get enough of that lovely Utah rock. This batch is some more from Zebra Slot. [This post was intended for my absence next month. Instead, it's a preview of tomorrow's post!].<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjy1ff-y8NUmrcSwPlFqxmhjNxP8RenYiPKm70oBkXhCXPRiC5ue7M-ZoGYFXeTQG2LV_9xUZTJyufDz9vIXryKiF_6IV6plIWGYi8lO1P_OfLHUtfCcYrUU19k6laH7tC0VyoljXitrUPBhiyi7gbNnCA0mSAEZjqskTa8QGegcQuGxdLe-wCJFCs=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjy1ff-y8NUmrcSwPlFqxmhjNxP8RenYiPKm70oBkXhCXPRiC5ue7M-ZoGYFXeTQG2LV_9xUZTJyufDz9vIXryKiF_6IV6plIWGYi8lO1P_OfLHUtfCcYrUU19k6laH7tC0VyoljXitrUPBhiyi7gbNnCA0mSAEZjqskTa8QGegcQuGxdLe-wCJFCs=w480-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgufkV5xrBaetQyvPGsPkD8Sbc4pWiwJO2Pq53wYxyg_x1oyPrzAbnWDyZQH6-qvci7tyoOjCOZmrlfRhhHrGwFSdtc1494mx1LlhJJGYtXkr5H_r6yUflI088ypn44IhA_N3RvEYxZxTLPDRSm4DxZ-78aG7eYfBYm9TmtyqAkxrw_AciO9MhpprU=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgufkV5xrBaetQyvPGsPkD8Sbc4pWiwJO2Pq53wYxyg_x1oyPrzAbnWDyZQH6-qvci7tyoOjCOZmrlfRhhHrGwFSdtc1494mx1LlhJJGYtXkr5H_r6yUflI088ypn44IhA_N3RvEYxZxTLPDRSm4DxZ-78aG7eYfBYm9TmtyqAkxrw_AciO9MhpprU=w480-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_RX_wVwObrEtDl_FZo72a5hKAKHlYoEraOnVn6O1MtmScNc8-bBSX9YNHakE7EUFaZOwLiU36oSvnbfVW-a9_VsTDmq9ka6oYoH_-BnpU2N2tz1gSqBQCgX22PAX5JdREXaRg-OyQOOOPYf5ENLJ04fhnEi-m2VMunmx7hr8zd74DwCsQ34K2ktU=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_RX_wVwObrEtDl_FZo72a5hKAKHlYoEraOnVn6O1MtmScNc8-bBSX9YNHakE7EUFaZOwLiU36oSvnbfVW-a9_VsTDmq9ka6oYoH_-BnpU2N2tz1gSqBQCgX22PAX5JdREXaRg-OyQOOOPYf5ENLJ04fhnEi-m2VMunmx7hr8zd74DwCsQ34K2ktU=w480-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLFW5eo4KY9IhDhVH3rzFrJJG3UC3bn1GtYAcm9iYmAwgim5P3C_y143YblonUG56ifB9nZrfl_LikFL93ccDhExoQyWm5BsxmK2ZW5t61YM39WopSKlyFjY3OqgA6RLkIupqcIcuneasjSWgpXij1XbaYAKVQ32IRaUPqp6qf4ywrNsWkbqqpQco=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLFW5eo4KY9IhDhVH3rzFrJJG3UC3bn1GtYAcm9iYmAwgim5P3C_y143YblonUG56ifB9nZrfl_LikFL93ccDhExoQyWm5BsxmK2ZW5t61YM39WopSKlyFjY3OqgA6RLkIupqcIcuneasjSWgpXij1XbaYAKVQ32IRaUPqp6qf4ywrNsWkbqqpQco=w480-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="480" /></a></div><br /><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><div> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</div><div><br /></div><div><span>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by </span><a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a><span>. <br /></span></div></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-24178116511336454052021-10-27T00:00:00.040-07:002021-10-27T00:00:00.203-07:00Writer's Wednesday: News and Tidbits<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjouAZPSpArcfv9k-c9CTuBw9aVeJWOYNatf57PTSd8yVDbLjMUBc-MCRj5tdCiFvwtsKiAxSqI0WcUlM5xyt2305omdLYk-Y5_yNHwDNKlMScw7y2gLvYdHGyens9ZIv39_H93ac1DYV_9GHkMz9yWQaKYIvyGD8-cF_RDuRSBzO2gZYPa15BkZEg=s1583" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1583" data-original-width="1131" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjouAZPSpArcfv9k-c9CTuBw9aVeJWOYNatf57PTSd8yVDbLjMUBc-MCRj5tdCiFvwtsKiAxSqI0WcUlM5xyt2305omdLYk-Y5_yNHwDNKlMScw7y2gLvYdHGyens9ZIv39_H93ac1DYV_9GHkMz9yWQaKYIvyGD8-cF_RDuRSBzO2gZYPa15BkZEg=w229-h320" title="Photo by Dave Dempsey, 2019" width="229" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That photo is from New Zealand a couple of years ago, but it will do as a stand-in for what I'm up to next. The blog, and the writing, will be on hold for the month of November while I'm trekking in Nepal! I'm super excited to be doing this, and will try to throw a photo or two your way while I'm there, but no promises, other than a weekly photo from the archives for you to enjoy. I'll be traveling with Second Son and a couple of friends, as part of an organized group of 7.<br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Meanwhile, it's been a while since I reported on my writing. It hasn't been going all that well, in part because of travel past and future (after a trip, I have to edit the photos, and before a trip I'm all about futzing with my gear over and over!). I did finish the total re-write of the story that was rejected from the IWSG collection last year--and I mean total. All I kept were the characters and most of the plot. That's out on submissions, but that's the only writing success this month.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Currently I'm brainstorming ideas so I'll have some prompts ready to go if I have down time on the trek and want to write. Of course, the places I'll be might suggest their own stories!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So that's about it.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hope your writing (or whatever you do) is going better than mine!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"> </div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</div><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><div> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</div><div><br /></div><div><span>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by </span><a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a><span>. <br /></span></div></div></div><p></p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-46581077819517948792021-10-25T00:00:00.002-07:002021-10-25T00:00:00.203-07:00Middle Grade Monday: Maud and Addie, by Maureen Buchanan Jones<p></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><p style="text-align: center;"><img alt="54578762. sy475" height="320" src="https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1605093980l/54578762._SY475_.jpg" width="203" /></p> <p></p><p></p><b><span color="-apple-system-label" style="font-size: 17px;">Title: </span></b><span color="-apple-system-label" style="font-size: 17px;"><i>Maud and Addie</i></span><b><span color="-apple-system-label" style="font-size: 17px;"></span><br /><span color="-apple-system-label" style="font-size: 17px;"></span></b><div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span color="-apple-system-label" style="font-size: 17px;">Author: </span></b><span color="-apple-system-label" style="font-size: 17px;">Maureen Buchanan Jones<br /></span><b><span color="-apple-system-label" style="font-size: 17px;"></span></b><div><div><div><div><div style="font-size: 17px;"><b>Publication Info: </b>May 2021 Fitzroy Books. Paperback is 240 pages.<br /><b></b></div><div style="font-size: 17px;"><b>Source: </b>Library digital resources</div><div style="font-size: 17px;"><br /><b></b></div><div style="font-size: 17px;"><b>Publisher’s Blurb:</b></div><div style="font-size: 17px;"><span id="freeText3632957365037326982">In 1910, the two
sisters, eleven- and twelve-year-old Maud and Addie, are eagerly
anticipating their Summer Social in Mahone Bay, Nova Scotia. However,
the event does not quite go according to plan, and the two girls are
swept out to sea as they are rowing home at the day’s end. They find
themselves adrift in the unforgiving North Atlantic with only the
contents of a picnic hamper to sustain them and a carriage blanket to
keep them warm. Finding their way through stormy seas, the girls finally
make landfall on a deserted island. With string and a jackknife
recovered from Maud’s pockets and a parasol and novel contributed by
Addie, the girls create a world for themselves among the island dunes,
keeping company with sea birds and other sea creatures. Their ensuing
adventures test their wits and, in the process, forge a bond that
enables them to survive.</span></div><div style="font-size: 17px;"><b> </b></div><div style="font-size: 17px;"><b>My Review:</b></div><div style="font-size: 17px;">This was kind of a fun read. It didn't quite read or feel genuine to the period (I couldn't ever put on a finger on why not, but it just felt more modern), but I don't think that will stop any kids from enjoying this tale of two very different sisters. The interactions between the two girls felt spot-on to me--they managed to work together where they had to, but that didn't stop all the normal bickering.</div><div style="font-size: 17px;"> </div><div style="font-size: 17px;">As for the plot, it holds together. Things maybe go just a little too well for the girls on their desert island, as though maybe the author hasn't done all that much camping, but it does work, for the most part. The conclusion held its own twists and turns, some more believable than others. </div><div style="font-size: 17px;"><b></b></div><div style="font-size: 17px;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="font-size: 17px;"><b>My Recommendation:</b></div><div style="font-size: 17px;">Overall, I'd say this is a story that most middle-grade readers will
enjoy, while adult readers may had a little more trouble with the
willing suspension of disbelief. Best for ages 8 and up.<b> <br /></b></div></div></div><div style="font-size: 17px;"><br /></div><div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>FTC Disclosure: I borrowed an electronic copy of </span></span></i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>Maud and Addie </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span></span></span><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>from my library, and received nothing from the author or the publisher in exchange for my honest review. The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.” </span></span></i></div><div style="font-size: 17px;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</div><div><div> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</div><div><br /></div><div>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by <a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a>. <br /></div></div></div></div></div></div><p style="text-align: left;"></p><p> </p><p></p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-10727875494231809362021-10-22T00:00:00.093-07:002021-10-22T00:00:00.233-07:00Photo Friday: The Golden Cathedral<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In late September</span> I did an overnight backpack trip in Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument to an amazing spot near the Escalante River. The Golden Cathedral is doable as a dayhike, but at 11+ miles, my companions (my son and a friend) and I decided we'd rather camp and have time to enjoy the spot. It was a great decision.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I kind of wish I'd gotten some photos of the "Egypt Road" on the way in, because it tested the limits of Prius ground-clearance. Imagine our surprise when we got to the trailhead and the only other car there was... yet another Prius. </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgV0IZrgPE5Ym2psfHTaFitD_NSQSZaf2GgBi9HP6IFmkgM_bvpE7ZPRB2JqW7ZficHbyGdAkZOjoVP6VvECgaMtWfNBVhhkxvQLwKfACUpAT8hq5cQ-ht8YzxHCRJCG-3dbBcFUI8tp75gGvpdAOb2W4DgjjV2ey_0uOo3EJ6p1-5jJdXD-h93OZc=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgV0IZrgPE5Ym2psfHTaFitD_NSQSZaf2GgBi9HP6IFmkgM_bvpE7ZPRB2JqW7ZficHbyGdAkZOjoVP6VvECgaMtWfNBVhhkxvQLwKfACUpAT8hq5cQ-ht8YzxHCRJCG-3dbBcFUI8tp75gGvpdAOb2W4DgjjV2ey_0uOo3EJ6p1-5jJdXD-h93OZc=w640-h480" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Our two Prii. The 3rd was parked on the other side of the trees.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;">In some ways, getting to the TH was the hardest part. Once there, we filled out a permit in the box provided, and headed out--down to the Escalante River.</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh0qN2PYrlRx1SHzpYiKBBuxgv9_WSC5F_x7d0ADeQur-c4XinvE7nBd8bC2j0UDv-PizPZc2AAeSJuNpPdb4be-0TTT1o9aQsrgOz0_wfig7PzYFPpaoN22jLdkf7mReG9wpe6egVXCasMsUXV2nSYE2CmAJ-gldG0dtDnbshm13EFL6fmIslRLOY=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh0qN2PYrlRx1SHzpYiKBBuxgv9_WSC5F_x7d0ADeQur-c4XinvE7nBd8bC2j0UDv-PizPZc2AAeSJuNpPdb4be-0TTT1o9aQsrgOz0_wfig7PzYFPpaoN22jLdkf7mReG9wpe6egVXCasMsUXV2nSYE2CmAJ-gldG0dtDnbshm13EFL6fmIslRLOY=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You can kind of tell where the land changes. The river runs through a shallow canyon in front of the more rounded bits.</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjX6XpInc81byTsMR330PnOwnqvXYur-FYf3QqRQtuiTu3koxBA2jUDdt4dcJpw0SUSguxPIQyoWKzDFiMKPNh4gRELNc7i-nhHFGqHatK1x0LD7iFNNJ3lrqbiy1NbxbiMlOIh1rzxTzy-gVLXKIab20QbwFSgLjXIJ_gEhv6h0CerICTJ6Ev5MB0=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjX6XpInc81byTsMR330PnOwnqvXYur-FYf3QqRQtuiTu3koxBA2jUDdt4dcJpw0SUSguxPIQyoWKzDFiMKPNh4gRELNc7i-nhHFGqHatK1x0LD7iFNNJ3lrqbiy1NbxbiMlOIh1rzxTzy-gVLXKIab20QbwFSgLjXIJ_gEhv6h0CerICTJ6Ev5MB0=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The river had flooded recently, leaving a lot of drying mud.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg60xA-zoqa3w5vCkaY9y_MHmr0nrXswjznot0RGtv6eF5nkJ8HWJnvFioQQnu2OUcwgds5OPCQGm30XhCcSE-kLky5crctXqNY09KGkUbg7GdEP2Hd-37njdfkhWmEg01HWa76QdnHO2nfXSdgLn5LUWxCpu8rEJaG2HjEDkLQkEJBKXz7Nuh6Exs=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg60xA-zoqa3w5vCkaY9y_MHmr0nrXswjznot0RGtv6eF5nkJ8HWJnvFioQQnu2OUcwgds5OPCQGm30XhCcSE-kLky5crctXqNY09KGkUbg7GdEP2Hd-37njdfkhWmEg01HWa76QdnHO2nfXSdgLn5LUWxCpu8rEJaG2HjEDkLQkEJBKXz7Nuh6Exs=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Datura blossom<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> <br />We camped not too far from the river, and finished the hike to the Golden Cathedral with just cameras and water. There had been flooding here, too, reminding us to find a campsite above the highest water line.<br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi69qENKS_z8HhrELy1eYc6TuQ0UC8Wi90GXeLZVI-Pc9cr-G0_xH1VcjYrzLH7z3Ni-c94sx6fpBEEZJPocDyvKihoA4v-g4fvHY81njMWRd2te36h6r83lJzVQp7ydDqcNZvISwpV8_mx-TRv_muMWvrmT_BbUAIFqU1e_miGqnzdUZhe9g33RUU=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi69qENKS_z8HhrELy1eYc6TuQ0UC8Wi90GXeLZVI-Pc9cr-G0_xH1VcjYrzLH7z3Ni-c94sx6fpBEEZJPocDyvKihoA4v-g4fvHY81njMWRd2te36h6r83lJzVQp7ydDqcNZvISwpV8_mx-TRv_muMWvrmT_BbUAIFqU1e_miGqnzdUZhe9g33RUU=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Heading up Neon Canyon<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiaK4kfLxPiTEF4V9Qgwlq5p2BPon6dGTm_XtMioMdsZwEEsKqtDD62iSPnq6F9ZVeKvvEGIXeQ4AQNdFMNXcfx-PN-BjnXZH1V0T2kuD8KNCihGFTr0LMylPdletajr7PoaevToyslwMwm4uoFYnFbMx6Q_1AfQJjLqTp7bXiXVQo4GP2lqF_7U8g=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiaK4kfLxPiTEF4V9Qgwlq5p2BPon6dGTm_XtMioMdsZwEEsKqtDD62iSPnq6F9ZVeKvvEGIXeQ4AQNdFMNXcfx-PN-BjnXZH1V0T2kuD8KNCihGFTr0LMylPdletajr7PoaevToyslwMwm4uoFYnFbMx6Q_1AfQJjLqTp7bXiXVQo4GP2lqF_7U8g=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">First glimpse through a narrow passage to something cool.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggi-DLjueAq9HRgyqL_vHAte7yCoqUx5nQq_pDtvEq2M-U4H79G_a5Pjz7L6cbtoHjtdhvjszDKpRBy-pIKxY58BbBSKQ54gBeyaxyOYREAtPNe45kcvAcJ0PL_PufSN2ErVaJuvE3kOPtCudUOzzfYfQQTFEPqfr_I6FAy8ggO0xpWb0DUMSuN88=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEggi-DLjueAq9HRgyqL_vHAte7yCoqUx5nQq_pDtvEq2M-U4H79G_a5Pjz7L6cbtoHjtdhvjszDKpRBy-pIKxY58BbBSKQ54gBeyaxyOYREAtPNe45kcvAcJ0PL_PufSN2ErVaJuvE3kOPtCudUOzzfYfQQTFEPqfr_I6FAy8ggO0xpWb0DUMSuN88=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Golden Cathedral<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;">We spent about 2 hours just hanging out, taking photos, watching the light change, and playing with the shadows and reflections. There was some discussion of how cool it would be to see the place in flood, if you could do it without dying. (Actually, it was clear that you could climb to safe places; you just couldn't leave until the water moved on.)<br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPAyzwfdwjk8aO4ilJ1h7blU8oNPIVx941kLjAhzPdohpk_7t--daY61e_3CviT68JknjAAI449zOWraS4H4t8vfc7S2jDjmoI7SiNVYgYlsDK-Ue6_d-Qevo0IIGH7iR5k1D2txMRCGE5vX4CdGSfArrm-CVl6M23uRoyqMgbCuY9fYw6xIr0ldM=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPAyzwfdwjk8aO4ilJ1h7blU8oNPIVx941kLjAhzPdohpk_7t--daY61e_3CviT68JknjAAI449zOWraS4H4t8vfc7S2jDjmoI7SiNVYgYlsDK-Ue6_d-Qevo0IIGH7iR5k1D2txMRCGE5vX4CdGSfArrm-CVl6M23uRoyqMgbCuY9fYw6xIr0ldM=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKv9zBRsXVqzEMvllo_ZxCgKQchiZAi4kHZAK0L2l92GAx02vcHRO3Xu4fsYbd6tbxJhImQ0eMHu2rt1l6AEi7pZCQepN33lrDJqwg88C8cBKX9AId1OdVfyHH1DSkhbt1K-lJULuUlJOLtOV7lNWsyQ7cni2anbnRj6Myybosmcz8TM3Msz005n4=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKv9zBRsXVqzEMvllo_ZxCgKQchiZAi4kHZAK0L2l92GAx02vcHRO3Xu4fsYbd6tbxJhImQ0eMHu2rt1l6AEi7pZCQepN33lrDJqwg88C8cBKX9AId1OdVfyHH1DSkhbt1K-lJULuUlJOLtOV7lNWsyQ7cni2anbnRj6Myybosmcz8TM3Msz005n4=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Reflections of the water on the ceiling. Note the photographer's shadow.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgLYaoYY1YvqNcw-Yq-nOH7Yha9mTGNENOzW98rojwrGEp7ktwjLZBeh7MFtF5kafC5fMtuO4xKd3QIHjUrbmoVyblfnKbXI_oRqWsAc6g6zUlJA0DS074VLYk-t8TAntfBCoAmD-tKqpBsI2D7Nn7qZQUJGmfs5_5VGhag3pyPsmix6hHHubuBlvQ=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgLYaoYY1YvqNcw-Yq-nOH7Yha9mTGNENOzW98rojwrGEp7ktwjLZBeh7MFtF5kafC5fMtuO4xKd3QIHjUrbmoVyblfnKbXI_oRqWsAc6g6zUlJA0DS074VLYk-t8TAntfBCoAmD-tKqpBsI2D7Nn7qZQUJGmfs5_5VGhag3pyPsmix6hHHubuBlvQ=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Second Son playing with the shadows and reflections.<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjE3FiByajrxbF9dswP0SQbu1E98zm4unbcYz7WUwl87BkcBjWjV50ieQ51ZyaxG-27_IEVnOrVG-sG74z3X5UIMxEiI9_hb1Ze4dUpBsq0BD8Hh0EEUNgYDa-XKSGgPzwsFPhyj9mOBwjU6OiazSpvWXMO6nYwS5PIiNOAd2WlFCgRS2qWVq6Yc2o=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjE3FiByajrxbF9dswP0SQbu1E98zm4unbcYz7WUwl87BkcBjWjV50ieQ51ZyaxG-27_IEVnOrVG-sG74z3X5UIMxEiI9_hb1Ze4dUpBsq0BD8Hh0EEUNgYDa-XKSGgPzwsFPhyj9mOBwjU6OiazSpvWXMO6nYwS5PIiNOAd2WlFCgRS2qWVq6Yc2o=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Eventually the light left us, and we moseyed back to camp to have some dinner. In the morning we made an early start, to try to climb out of the river bottoms before the day heated up. We saw some flowers, to my surprise. You can also tell from the flower photos how much of the way we were slogging through sand!<br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgiFMF5PxWu-flpb_nGNLt79463MW9Q4tjcQCKQuSfvSFxsB25GmrLXn1stxhFZ9lA6dH0exqw7RxIHLvKjZCM5ZT1sm9k1pIC9Gwq4EnVUOp_StwONS3RiPj2yq5kueqZ6gdAL5SpR9tp8XIqQDWjvdzSwP5c0Qs-7lxowyCQegx_KWV3b9WI-9rc=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgiFMF5PxWu-flpb_nGNLt79463MW9Q4tjcQCKQuSfvSFxsB25GmrLXn1stxhFZ9lA6dH0exqw7RxIHLvKjZCM5ZT1sm9k1pIC9Gwq4EnVUOp_StwONS3RiPj2yq5kueqZ6gdAL5SpR9tp8XIqQDWjvdzSwP5c0Qs-7lxowyCQegx_KWV3b9WI-9rc=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sand verbena<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgP5tvvC2pud12TsClq3OjnJQSsmEeGrsdHIK47NYOzUn5i2Yd-ZDueDg3GyLHK5q3Nm-UxAZbKTiTRwT7O4s3rzCTWDCOQGOV11doGilNhgtVmpoVMdvLWk39usUyjc6fp_t37I8VHi-ohXZTp111GvMDPwPuqbR1A1Uj7zmxuYeRH0mmtyIrIspE=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgP5tvvC2pud12TsClq3OjnJQSsmEeGrsdHIK47NYOzUn5i2Yd-ZDueDg3GyLHK5q3Nm-UxAZbKTiTRwT7O4s3rzCTWDCOQGOV11doGilNhgtVmpoVMdvLWk39usUyjc6fp_t37I8VHi-ohXZTp111GvMDPwPuqbR1A1Uj7zmxuYeRH0mmtyIrIspE=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Some kind of sunflower<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEii90S3619cuRrL1dNVs2T8SVm90y-TmAhOpzcr_YV6YHchQc1JPNWwYtieCORkwGULJU9TbA7LSZJ-rfcummy8YHuVFhIp06a-Uw00AIy-sOiSYPb908WQ8xnpbV9Khk7cp0Wgu3qDNL1N0XTXHYs1SexTMqhRoiq8H71-7VbCQy61zrf150CkyNY=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1364" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEii90S3619cuRrL1dNVs2T8SVm90y-TmAhOpzcr_YV6YHchQc1JPNWwYtieCORkwGULJU9TbA7LSZJ-rfcummy8YHuVFhIp06a-Uw00AIy-sOiSYPb908WQ8xnpbV9Khk7cp0Wgu3qDNL1N0XTXHYs1SexTMqhRoiq8H71-7VbCQy61zrf150CkyNY=w426-h640" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="426" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgw3g31qCUTgrqY9dsuOW2BBJOePrYxcwVZXT7OXNznKPNbP-MbIsOkmlarcxG0GYWkPsdQ8qAqDKfybjcPb0IFEoAbe9QA5lktXQ8RcQeuff5Gtr0P-ZuFiC_3AfKFDhg17kPMydUGdWNdCl1KEawXRKSxQ57Nyg5W_pfsFWcoFPdq5-TpJXDnGH0=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgw3g31qCUTgrqY9dsuOW2BBJOePrYxcwVZXT7OXNznKPNbP-MbIsOkmlarcxG0GYWkPsdQ8qAqDKfybjcPb0IFEoAbe9QA5lktXQ8RcQeuff5Gtr0P-ZuFiC_3AfKFDhg17kPMydUGdWNdCl1KEawXRKSxQ57Nyg5W_pfsFWcoFPdq5-TpJXDnGH0=w640-h426" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The final climb</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> <br />Another long, slow drive back out the Egypt road to camp. More adventures the next day! <br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjVtOUk8VrGicbuAuxlPJaRSZYAdsgYsFFUYvo38rN7Ax7zWK0yDWO0D3L0PYKiKZEFslUOdbO0FaYOGwqEb7YY-hc2XZ2jCNIyNuWilRpLcm1dQwlTD_K57e7RtvprU8npeLsdGQOki5934X9cFph-jGrNgEtWbw7CwmOr-Vlkm4NMu-5wWiae1WU=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1259" data-original-width="2048" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjVtOUk8VrGicbuAuxlPJaRSZYAdsgYsFFUYvo38rN7Ax7zWK0yDWO0D3L0PYKiKZEFslUOdbO0FaYOGwqEb7YY-hc2XZ2jCNIyNuWilRpLcm1dQwlTD_K57e7RtvprU8npeLsdGQOki5934X9cFph-jGrNgEtWbw7CwmOr-Vlkm4NMu-5wWiae1WU=w640-h394" title="Photo copyright Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: small;"> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><div><span style="font-size: small;"> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by </span><a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a><span>. <br /></span></span></div></div><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-17798549631229872872021-10-20T00:00:00.045-07:002021-10-20T00:00:00.453-07:00#WEP--The Scream <p style="text-align: center;"></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://writeeditpublishnow.blogspot.com/2021/10/wep-2021-continues-artistic-inspiration.html" target="_blank"><img alt="" height="340" src="https://64.media.tumblr.com/7b6d1f616879c0c275e99f4105e9f82f/a9ee4e0a2efa6a2f-a7/s1280x1920/393e12948d5d6c59542e1eb195d14b73c9d900c6.jpg" width="420" /></a></p><p></p><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: #fff2ce; color: #5d4828; font-family: "Droid Serif"; font-size: 12px; text-align: center;">
<b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">WEP challenges are FREE and open to all.</span></b></div>
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<b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">On the 1st</span></b><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"> </span></b><b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">of the challenge month, there will be a</span></b><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"> </span></b><b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">get-your-thinking-caps</span></b><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"> </span></b><b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">on post. The badge will include the dates of the challenge and the winner’s</span></b><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"> </span></b><b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">prizes.</span></b></div>
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<b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><br /></span></b></div><p>
<b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">The
InLinkz sign up will open on the third Wednesday and close 3 days
later. It will contain no news, just the sign up. Participants link up
with their DLs (Direct Links to their entry). </span></b></p><p><b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><a href="https://writeeditpublishnow.blogspot.com/p/about-wep-how-do-i-join.html">Learn all about it here</a>. </span></b></p><p><b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"> </span></b></p><p><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;">My entry this time is based on an actual incident. Mom and my brothers will recognize it. My apologies to them for the non-trivial liberties I took with history and their personalities.</span></span></span></p><p><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;">We are now also meant to provide a tag line for our stories, so here's mine:</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><i><b>What terrors lurk in the root cellar?</b></i></span></span></span></p><p><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><i><b> </b></i> </span></span></span><b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"> </span></b></p><h3 style="text-align: left;"><b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><span style="color: black;">The Scream</span></span></b><br /></h3><p><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;">The house we lived in that year wasn’t much. The wind blew in everywhere you could imagine a draft, and some places you couldn’t. The old enclosed porch we used as a root cellar was worse. It wasn’t just the wind that could get in through the chinks and cracks in that one. Though it stayed just enough above freezing not to spoil the potatoes, it was infested with everything from spiders to mice, maybe more. At least there weren’t any snakes in that part of the country.<br /><br />By the end of October the porch was full of root veggies from the huge garden we’d maintained all summer, plus rows and rows of quart mason jars full of fruit—peaches, plums, applesauce, tomatoes. It was Mom’s pride, but none of us much cared for it when we had to go in there and dig out a bunch of spuds or parsnips. I especially hated going for parsnips, because I really couldn’t stand them so it was sort of doubly icky.<br /><br />As a result, it was usually Mom who had to go rummage in the gunny sacks for the evening meal. We kids would make ourselves scarce, even though my brothers were older than me and supposed to be brave and tough and all that stuff teenaged boys claimed to be. <br /><br />The night I’m talking about was Halloween, so we were all upstairs working on our costumes, even though we were too old for trick-or-treat. There was a party at the high school for everyone who wanted to come, and we had to have costumes. It was cold upstairs, but we were all working in our rooms to keep the costumes secret, for some reason I can’t remember now.<br /><br />It was that time of year when dark came on early and took us all by surprise, and a gloomy afternoon was the worst. This one was rainy enough to make me glad I was too old to trick-or-treat, though the truth was we lived too far out in the sticks to make that work anyway. The previous fall, when we’d just moved in, I walked the mile up the road to the nearest neighbor, was given an apple, and walked back. That was it. No one else lived close enough to visit.<br /><br />So this year I was pleased we’d be going to the high school, where I was sure they would have candy. My oldest brother would drive us in after dinner. He’d just gotten his license and was itchy to show it off, though carting the siblings around wasn’t what he had in mind. I could hear those pleasant kitchen noises that meant Mom was starting to fix dinner, though no good smells were rising yet. It didn’t much matter, since we were all saving up to stuff ourselves at the party.<br /><br />The wind and rain beating on my windows was kind of creepy. It wasn’t really dark, but that super-spooky kind of dusky light, and I hadn’t turned on my lamp yet, so I could see out. I kept flinching from things flying by the window, but maybe that was because we’d been studying Edvard Munch’s “The Scream” in art class. That was the teacher’s idea, to keep our interest when we just wanted to play with paints and clay. But I thought the screamer was dodging some kind of black ghost or something and for the moment blowing leaves made me jump.<br /><br />I switched on the light, which kept me from seeing out, but might have made my jitters worse. I kept glancing at the windows, now blank black rectangles, and wondering what might be looking in. Honestly, I was kind of enjoying working my way up to a good case of the spooks.<br /><br />Then Mom screamed. <br /><br />It sounded just the way the one in the painting looks. <br /><br />I nearly wet my pants. Mom never screams.<br /><br />If Mom was screaming, it meant an unthinkable horror. With visions in my head of accidents with the kitchen knives, vampires, monsters, and the undead, I left my room at full speed.<br /><br />My brothers, I’m glad to say, catapulted from their rooms just as fast. We narrowly avoided a pile-up at the top of the stairs and flew down in close formation.<br /><br />As fast as we were, Mom had stopped screaming before we got there. It might have been a single scream. Cut off by the fangs of a vampire?<br /><br />The door to that porch/root cellar was open and the very dim bulb inside glowed feebly. We raced for the spot, crowding around the door, too worried about Mom to be scared, though I kind of hung back and let the boys go first. After all, there were two of them, so Mom and Dad could spare one if the vampire got him.<br /><br />Mom stood there, looking a little shame-faced, but shaken. While we watched, she pulled on Dad’s heavy work gloves—he wasn’t home—and reached into the nearest potato sack.<br /><br />She glanced at us. Her voice was almost steady as she said, “Sorry to scare you. But… have you ever felt a furry potato?”<br /><br />She pulled a dead rat from the bag. <br /><br />I’d have run, but my knees had gone weak. <br /><br />And those rotten boys were laughing.</span><b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;">###<br /></p><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"> ©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><div> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</div><div><br /></div><div>Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by <a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a>.</div><div> <br /></div></div><p><b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"><br /></span></b></p><p><b><span face=""bahnschrift semilight" , sans-serif" lang="EN-GB" style="color: #7f6000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 17.12px;"> </span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com40tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52364159500107393.post-14981635220785609452021-10-18T00:00:00.094-07:002021-10-18T00:00:00.240-07:00Audiobook Review: Beyond the Call, by Lee Trimble and Jeremy Dronfield <p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"> <img alt="Title details for Beyond the Call by Jeremy Dronfield - Wait list" aria-label="Title details for Beyond the Call by Jeremy Dronfield - Wait list Audiobook" class="large-title js-details-cover-image " height="320" src="https://img1.od-cdn.com/ImageType-100/1694-1/{D8034281-A59E-4D42-9FCE-915A1E6B6922}Img100.jpg" style="background-color: #aa2230;" width="240" /></span></p><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span>Title: </span></b><span><i>Beyond the Call: The True Story of One World War II Pilot's Covert Mission to Rescue POWs on the Eastern Front<br /></i></span></span></div><div style="-moz-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: HelveticaNeue; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span>Author:</span></b><span> Lee Trimble with Jeremy Dronfield. Read by Donald Corren<br /></span></span><div><div><div><div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Publication Info: </b>Audible Audio, 2015. 11 hours. Hardcover 2015 by Berkley, 352 pages.<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Source: </b>Library digital resources<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b> </b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Publisher’s Blurb:<br /></b><span id="freeText14860774994906081934">Near the end of
World War II, thousands of Allied ex-POWs were abandoned to wander the
war-torn Eastern Front, modern day Ukraine. With no food, shelter, or
supplies, they were an army of dying men.<br /><br />The Red Army had
pushed the Nazis out of Russia. As they advanced across Poland, the
prison camps of the Third Reich were discovered and liberated. In
defiance of humanity, the freed Allied prisoners were discarded without
aid. The Soviets viewed POWs as cowards, and regarded all refugees as
potential spies or partisans.<br /><br />The United States repeatedly
offered to help recover their POWs, but were refused. With relations
between the allies strained, a plan was conceived for an undercover
rescue mission. In total secrecy, the OSS chose an obscure American air
force detachment stationed at a Ukrainian airfield; it would provide the
base and the cover for the operation. The man they picked to undertake
it was veteran 8th Air Force bomber pilot Captain Robert Trimble.<br /><br />With
little covert training, already scarred by the trials of combat,
Trimble took the mission. He would survive by wit, courage, and a
determination to do some good in a terrible war. Alone he faced up to
the terrifying Soviet secret police, saving hundreds of lives. At the
same time he battled to come to terms with the trauma of war and find
his own way home to his wife and child.<br /><br />One ordinary man. One extraordinary mission. A thousand lives at stake.<br />This
is the compelling, inspiring true story of an American hero who laid
his life on the line to bring his fellow men home to safety and freedom.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>My Review:<br /></b>I enjoy finding books about bits of history I never heard about. This book delivered that in almost a larger dose than I wanted. It's mostly the story of one man's war--the part of the war he fought after he thought he was done, since Robert Trimble had completed his 35 bombing missions. But it's also about a much bigger issue, the question of how the US handled the USSR as the war wound down, and it's not always pretty.<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">Perhaps that's why I never heard more about this part of WWII in my school history classes, since I grew up in the Cold War and you'd think there'd have been a rush to tell us anything bad about the Soviet Union. But I never knew about how the Soviets treated POWs, released prisoners of the Nazi death camps, or other war refugees. Let's just say it was an eye-opener, especially how the US just walked away from a lot of our own people. I know political necessity made that inevitable, but this book tells what it looked like on the ground.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">The book is well written. Lee Trimble was smart to partner with an experienced writer to tell his father's story, and the research they put into confirming Robert Trimble's story shows. Any incident they could not confirm, they make clear is based only on the elder Trimble's memory. In general, the narrative flows clearly, though at times I got confused as we jumped from one narrative line to another. Part of that is the nature of audio books, where everything relies on the listener's memory and attention.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">The narration itself doesn't stand out in my mind at all--which means it was well done. In a book like this, especially, I'm all in favor of narrators who stay out of the way of the text.<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>My Recommendation:</b></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">A fascinating story and well worth a read, or a listen, especially for history fans.<b> <br /></b></span></div></div></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span>FTC Disclosure: I borrowed an electronic copy of </span></span></i><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Beyond the Call</span></span><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span> from my library, and received nothing from the author or the publisher in exchange for my honest review. The opinions expressed are my own and those of no one else. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.” </span></span></i></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><span style="font-size: medium;"> <span style="font-size: x-small;">©Rebecca M. Douglass, 2021</span></span></div><div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"> As always, please ask permission to use any photos or text. Link-backs appreciated.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">Enjoyed this post? Avoid missing out on future posts by <a href="https://follow.it/ninjalibrarian?action=followPub" target="_blank"><span data-v-0e1ce288="">following us</span></a>. <br /></span></div></div></div></div></div></div><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p>Rebecca M. Douglasshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07260530063164127746noreply@blogger.com2