I'm back. Seventy-seven hours, five states, and one province.

ND to MN to ND to MT to ID to WA to BC to WA to ID to MT to ND.

Mercy me.

Now I drive to SD. It's family reunion time in Spearfish.

Brandon is fishing at Lake Ilo. I'm working on music stuff. Trying to get my new CD, Rough Notes from Otter Cove, shipped off to the manufacturer as soon as possible.

Yesterday, Brandon and I brushed paint on my parents' mountain house. As per Grandpa's recommendation, we used red paint. Then we hiked to the dams and watched beavers at play. Then pie.

The trim is painted. It's done. The house looks new!

"There is nothing with which every man is so afraid as getting to know how enormously much he is capable of doing and becoming."
-Soren Kierkegaard

This goes for women, too, I'm purdy sure.

Ah, sweet summer cometh. Sublime weather. No bugs, long days, a slight breeze, 80 degrees.

Here is the quote of the day:

"It is not the active revolutionary who impresses people but the man powerful enough to sleep in the daytime. . . . A man who sleeps during the day (and you have to imagine him in a bedroom with no more than a bed and a naked lightbulb) is unquestionably a hero."--Jean Giono

I found it in M. Earl Craig's book, Yes, Master.

Juneberry and I have not been heroic in that sense, however. We are working. It's good having help.

We put the second, and final, paint coat on today. It's more or less the color of tomato soup (the trim will be the color of soda crackers, I think).

The second coat will go on tomorrow.

Pictured is Brandon "Juneberry" Wachholz.

My house is now red. Pictures soon.

Happy Father's Day, Pops.

I love you more than food.

Thanks for always being t/here for me.

Home again.

Time to paint my house.

As Gramps sez: "Anything worth painting, is worth painting red."

Speaking of Grandpa, he turned 89 last week. This picture is from last summer. Also pictured are Owen (cousin) and Dude (horse). You'll notice the color of both the picnic table and his cabin.

My stay in Indianapolis was rockin'. Christy has a fun family, and they live on a beautiful lake. We paddle-boated, played croquet, bicycled, surveyed flood damage, visited her friends Brook and Aaron, watched Evan Almighty, and ate tons of top-notch food. On Sunday, Christy's parents threw a party. I got to meet aunts, uncles, and cousins.

Brandon, my hoboing friend from Minnesota, has been in Dunn Center since Friday. I'm living vicariously through his stories of hardcore train adventures. Right now he's poring over a ragged road atlas, memorizing "crew-change cities" and train arrival-departure times. We'll work on my house this weekend, when I get back from the next trucking run.

Indianapolis got hit by some serious flooding this weekend. We've seen many cars under water.

Christy and I are off to Indiana, in an hour, to meet the parents. Mrs. Miller emailed me yesterday to ask what kinds of foods I like to eat. I replied, "Spaghetti, pineapple, cake, and salad." (It was all I could think of.) She emailed back, "Spaghetti, pineapple, cake, and salad it is!"

I wonder what kind of cake.

By the way, someone wanted to see what the truck I drive looks like. This is "Pearl":


That's Bull Goodall, to the left, fueling.

My friends, Elija and Nancy, graciously picked me up in Dunn Center this afternoon and drove me back to their Mandan apartment, so that I can catch a flight to Denver tomorrow.

Unfortunately, one of their cats is ejecting a most putrid smell into the atmosphere.

i, too, have
a red

wheelbarrow glazed
with rain

outside my
window--

nothing depends
on it.

If anyone is wondering about the status of the Roll Out, Cowboy film, here's the gist:

Ladies Lawrence and Vine have decided to turn it into a three-year character study. They'll return to North Dakota this autumn and next.

Coincidentally, another New York filmmaker recently approached me about doing a Sandman documentary. When I told her about Roll Out, Cowboy, she bowed out.

On a side note, I'd like to become a filmmaker myself someday, to document my Sand grandparents. They are original back-to-the-landers with a lot to share.

Today begins seven months of half-time work. Shawn and I will only deliver tilapia to Vancouver, BC, twice a month now. Adanac Seafood Inc. is trying to save money by sending their own trucks to Renville twice a month. Once the icy months resume, though, they'll let us run full-time again. Sounds fishy.

On the bright side, I now have more time to goof off.