It's been a hot minute...literally.

Braying donkey at the oasis along the Lake Mead Parkway.

Some mornings when I wake, it takes me a moment to remember where I am. Am I waking in the RV? In the back of the van? At my room in Lake Havasu City? At a hotel somewhere along the road?

Usually, it's the sounds that tell me where I am. The generator at Brenda's house. Rolling luggage or doors closing at the hotels. Bird toenails making little clicks across the roof of the RV.

These last few months, I really moved around a lot. Whether to shuttle vehicles, move work vans, or make business runs, I've been on the road quite a bit. In adding all the vehicle mileage, I've already done a little over 25,000 miles since January.

I took a job teaching in Havasu.

Again.

Only this time, I've learned my lesson: no more middle school. Instead, I've taken an adjunct role at a local community college. I'm really digging it. I've got a great summer class of three. These students are brilliant and have good ideas and big dreams. I'm excited to be a small part of their lives.

So, now I'm working for the shuttle job (in a stepped-back role) and teaching in Havasu. During these summer slow months, I'm also trying to finally launch a small manufacturing business. I made myself start today with laying the groundwork.

Or...re-lay the ground work.

It's a hobby thing that I make for myself and friends. Friends have been asking for restocks of it, so maybe it's time to take it bigger. Who knows? All I can do is try. I'm hoping to be able to update everyone with the deets really soon.

Buena looks through the window toward the sunrise.

In other news, Buena is going blind. This is something that started the summer of 2023 when a film developed over her right eye. When I took her to the vet, the vet said, "Pannus." So I went home and researched Pannus. Apparently, high altitude and UV light impact it, with blindness often resulting.

She's been on prednisolone (steroid) and an antibiotic. I probably should have gotten her the doggles. Now, she bumps into things and doesn't see her toys, food, or bushes on her right side.

In the mornings, we walk at a construction site. Actually, it's pre-construction. Right now, it's just a big lot with a few holes dug in it. The holes aren't deep, maybe two (or three) feet. She gets too close to the holes sometimes, then slips and freaks out.

I also worry about the barbed wire fencing at one side of the yard, so I'm constantly warning her when she gets too close. She actually seems to listen and pulls back from it.

Actually...she is listening to me a lot more these days. She's also sticking close to me, often standing right against my leg or laying so she's touching me.

For now, I'm her seeing-eye human, but I'm considering getting her a seeing-eye chihuahua. Brenda thinks it will help, and Pinky is pregnant with Bandit's baby-puppies. So...this might be the solution.

Behold, the evil goathead.

And....there's goatheads at the campground near the Grand Canyon's south rim. These evil, little seeds are all over the place because the pernicious spreading plants grow well in rocks and poor soil.

When walking from my vehicle to the RV, several will stick into the soles of my shoes. At the start of the season--when we first moved into the campsites--I used to count the number I'd collect on each shoe. A common figure was about 12 - 15 per shoe. I just pick them off an throw them into the fire pit or the trashcan.

These goatheads at my J-O-B campsite remind me of the curse from the Garden:

Because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree, of which I commanded thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat of it: cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life;

Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field;

In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return. (Genesis 3:17-19, KJV)

So, I deal with these things while I work by the sweat of my brow to clean them from the campsite between my computer and driving shifts.

I just keep trying to remind myself that this whole thing...this BIG RV trip...is my life adventure. It feels like that. So, I'm going to start taking some time and taking some chances on some ideas I have, such as the manufacturing and the writing. I want to build something instead of just working for someone else's dream. Does that make sense?

Rainbow near Vermillion Cliffs.