Beltane, Boots and Birthdays

The old festival of Beltane (Mayday) is but hours away. It is one of those quarter-days of which the ancient

Celts, my ancestors, were very fond, set half way between the solar points of the solstices and equinoxes. Beltane, like all their holidays, was closely tied to an agrarian life and measurements of time established to be sure of the best times to plant and harvest, when livestock would be fertile and give birth and so forth. Beltane was often celebrated with bonfires and marked the point when livestock would be moved to summer pastures in the higher terrain. It is also a second day devoted to Brighid or Brigit. She was such an ubiquitous figure and her domains so varied that a single day was simply not enough to honor her! Imbolc being the other day dedicated to her, marking the turn between midwinter and the beginning of spring. As a midwife and patron of husbandry she is often shown with a lamb or a young pig.

Whenever I think of this day, I tend to go back to many traditions of the British Isles, a region the bulk of my ancestors called home since they hailed from Ireland, Scotland.and Wales. May poles and bonfires, the traditional plant badges of shamrock, thistle, and leak, the flowing out from hearth and home at the start of spring and the drawing in for the cold and dark times of winter. And did they ever know how to party! Eight times a year they held festivals that became fairs and gatherings, time for food and drink (pass the mead!), athletic and artistic competitions, romance and various forms of worship and honor to their many deities. I would love to have a time machine or some mechanism that would let me go back and visit on some of those times. As it is I can only imagine and dream a bit. At any rate, Beltane Blessings to one and all!


Where do the boots come in? Well, I walk a lot, mostly with my latest canine companion, Ginger, who is young and needs a lot of exercise. I am not longer (young) but still do (need exercise) as well to try to hold the ravages of time at bay a bit longer. For walking, good footwear is essential. I was wearing a less supportive and secure pair of shoes some ten days ago and took a 'trip' not at all desired, measuring my length on the dirt and shoving one corner of my glasses into my face at the outer edge of my right eyebrow. Ouch. Such wounds bleed copiously!  Lesson re-learned. A pair of rocker-soled walkers went on Freecycle and now have a new home. They are okay on streets and sidewalks but lousy on rougher ground. And walking thru the neighborhood day after day gets very boring...

So now I am mostly back to a pair of light hikers that come past the ankle. I have somewhat weak ankles anyway and broke the right one some years back while hiking--I used that event to inspire a book, long out of print, called Healing Hearts in which the heroine, an EMT, suffers the same injury I did in a similar way. I was wearing hiking boots then but maybe not high enough tops to support my leg when I turned my foot.
These I wear now are about the same but I am more careful. Anyway, I walked along on some barren desert-type ground on Sunday and was amused to see tracks left by others that took me back many years. I remember when the Vibram soles with their distinctive pattern came out and became almost part of the uniform for the youth of my day. We called them "waffle stompers" and those tracks were everywhere!

As to birthdays,. I just had one of those X0 milestone ones that grab you up with a snap and make you think things like, "OMG, how did I get so freakin' old all of a sudden?"  Then I made myself recall the old Irish saying: Never bewail getting older since it is a privilege denied to many.  How true. Recent tragedies have cut short a number of lives, suddenly and shockingly, like bolts from the blue. None of us know when that could strike. My paternal grandparents were both gone before reaching this age although the other side were very long lived. My parents both passed before they completed this decade so who knows? I'll just live each day I am allotted as fully as I can and cherish every minute, try to make each day both good enough to repeat and also leave nothing that would bring regret if I had no chance to redo, undo or complete it!

Coincidences are strange, such as clusters of birthdays. Two dear friends share April 25 while I share my date with U.S. Grant, Union general and President back in the 1800s. My dad's younger sister shared April 21 with Queen Elizabeth II and both my brother and my grandson share November 14 with Prince Charles (my brother is even also named Charles!) and another aunt also had been born on that day. Two more good friends celebrate on May 11, which was my Dad's birthday. Well. with only 365 choices and millions of people, I suppose that is not so strange after all!

As a final note, we are edging into summer--it passed 90 yesterday and should do so again today. Roses are in profuse bloom all over the area. It seems to be a fine place for them despite the alkaline soil and hot, dry conditions. Oh, they slack off a bit in the middle of summer but that is to be expected. Right now they are in full glory and the sweet scents embellish the air, especially in the early morning.. Another bonus on those walks. And the ocotillo are in bloom--scarlet tassels on the tips of the long, spine-armed stems. I am not sure if the plant is technically a cactus or not but it is the state flower of New Mexico and a striking specimen to be sure. I must try for some pictures while they are in their glory! If you cut one now and stick it into moist sand, it will likely root and grow. I just may see if I can start back up that "A" hill and harvest a couple and try to start them for my yard. That would be the only cactus I would allow inside my fence BTW. Most such are far too dangerous to kids and dogs and even clumsy me. No 'cactus garden' yard decoration for me, desert lover or not. The desert belongs in the desert, while one's yard is another realm.

Eyes to See

Yesterday I had my annual eye exam. Focusing on vision issues reminded me of just how precious this sense is. We may use it every day but sometimes we may not appreciate the gift of sight as we should. Although I also value the sense of hearing very highly, probably sight is the most critical to me.

I became aware of this a long time ago. In third grade, the school nurse noticed that I seemed to have a vision problem. My parents took me to one of the best ophthalmologists in Phoenix at the the time and I was diagnosed with extreme myopia or nearsightedness. I seem to recall that I was 20-200 in one eye and 20-400 in the other! That is nearly in the legally blind category but I've always been correctable to close to 20-20. BTW, those figures relate to feet--without corrective lenses, I could see at 20 feet what good vision could at the 2-400 feet distance!!

Within a short while I was wearing my first pair of glasses and spectacles have been with me ever since. I never even considered contacts because I cannot stand to have anything put in my eyes--using eye drops is an ordeal! I hate the drops used for dilation and the effect lasts for hours so after I got home--with the aid of a pair of very dark over-glasses wrap around shades!--I did very little until evening. But that ordeal was worth it to have my doctor say there were no appreciable changes since last year.

To put that into perspective, in 2011, the doctor in Colorado Springs hinted he saw the first traces of macular degeneration and I freaked. But that night my brother suffered a severe gout attack and a few days later a probable panic attack which was at first thought to be a heart attack. We were going through a very tough time with uncertainty on his job and perhaps planning or having  to move so the stress was huge for us both. Anyway, my potential vision issues went on the back burner but when I made my annual appointment last year here in Alamogordo, I was nervous. My new doctor was very sympathetic and assured me he saw nothing that would indicate vision failure was imminent or even threatened. Since I know my dad had glaucoma and early stage macular degeneration plus cataracts, I do watch my sight closely. I was diagnosed with beginning cataracts about eight years ago but they have not advanced much in that time. Another whew of relief.

So today as I walked out with Ginger in the bright morning, the ability to see hit me anew as the huge blessing it is. Those new green mesquite leaves, the blooms on various weeds, mostly those fed by the tiny runoff from roads and sidewalks since it is so dry, the distant mountains, the faint wispy clouds in the on the horizon and even the cars going by, birds flying around, and Ginger herself, trotting beside me were all pictures and images I absorbed and delighted in. I give huge thanks for eyes to see!

Here are a couple of shots of those new mesquite leaves I rave about.
The color is not quite true but close--my digital camera seems to emphasize yellow a bit more than green here but you may get the idea. I realize that where deciduous trees are common there are all kinds of new leaves to see. But in the desert, not so much. Maybe that makes mesquites a bit more of a treat. Here in town there are other leaves of course since most folks who came to these arid regions from elsewhere, insist on having trees and some grass, but to me, a near life-long desert dweller, mesquites spell spring to me and I greet those new leaves with delight.

 The two shots as you will note are very similar but I got a slightly different angle on them seeking to get the best color. They do have a golden cast and in a few more days-weeks, when the blooms arrive, they are very yellow! But the leaves are a pure bright spring green. BTW, the blooms look like fuzzy golden caterpillars, 2-3 inches long with a furring of fine strands--pistils? Stamens? Flower parts anyway!!

The cottonwoods down in the park between the railroad tracks and White Sands Boulevard are coming out, too. Those trees are now old and not doing too well--cottonwoods are huge users of water and the city has been watering them with sanitized sewer water. They do not thrive as there are too many

salts in it. Now the city fathers are talking of taking them out -- some seem to be slowly dying--and replacing with more desert-type species that will need less water. While I am all in favor of being environmentally responsible and conserving what is admittedly a very scarce commodity these days--water--I have to feel sad about that as do many in the community. No telling how it will play out but I'm glad I got some pictures when those trees were in their golden autumn glory last December! This shot was taken on Dec 12--to give you an idea of how long not-quite-summer lasts! A few days later it turned cold and windy and the leaves fell but still, December!! I gotta love it.

Incidentally this is close to where Ginger and I go to meet with Jacque, her trainer, and go through our weekly training sessions. Today will be the last of those for awhile since she will get her Basic Obedience Certification and we plan to wait a bit before we go on to further work. It has been fun and we have both learned a lot!

368 Days and 100 Posts!

I have been hanging out here for a year now and today is the 100th post on this blog! Wow, it has been an interesting year and I am pleased with myself for hanging in here and finding something to talk about that many times, different and maybe weirder each time!

There were some sad days--telling Belle goodbye especially--and some good ones. Among those, welcoming first little Rojo and then Ginger into the family, good visits with some fiends and kinfolk, and most recently, Ginger's and my hike up the mountain on Easter! I have no doubts that the next year will see new adventures, new problems, new challenges and new triumphs. That is what life is about.

I think I ought to dedicate my words today  to Friends. Goodness knows I have been blessed with such an amazing bunch of them, each one a very special, unique and significant person who brought his or her own amazing  gifts and wisdom, love and inspiration into my life. Some of them are now gone yet I recall them with great fondness and truly feel that as long as they remain in my memories and in my heart, they are not truly gone. I do have photos and mementos of most but they are really not needed. (A few of them are on my Pinterest page dedicated to special people--www.pinterest.com/azwriter427/veryspecialpeople/.) I also totally trust that I will see them again and once more enjoy the comradeship, partnership, and sustaining love we knew. Those who are still around remain integral parts of my life--thought of every day, worried about when I do not see or hear from them for awhile, and cherished and enjoyed when I do. I do not have to name names! Each one of you knows who you are and that I truly mean it when I say, "You are a very special person to me and always will be." It doesn't matter if we do not communicate for days, weeks, even months--the love is still there, as real and encompassing as ever!

I added a new friend this past week. We got into contact through one of those match sites which are almost worthless but now and then provide a path to connect with someone that you otherwise might never know. This gentleman grew up just across the mountains from me in Central Arizona. His folks had a ranch and he also went to a tiny one-room school for a few grades and then had to suffer the shock of moving on to a 'town school' and being a bit of the odd kid out. We knew a lot of people in common and one set of his grandparents did live in the Verde Valley, in a community where I attended a slightly larger rural school from fourth through seventh grades. His wife had passed away in November 2004, a year after Jim.

Neither one of us is seriously looking to move in with someone and try to build a new partnership--if it happens and seems to be inevitable, we'd bow to fate but it's not the near term goal. Still it was nice to sit and talk of old and familiar times and places with one having so much in common. Friends are always good and one can never have too many! That is one reason why I am hesitant now to even consider an exclusive relationship because it does limit you. You almost have to focus intently on one person and let others fall farther into the background. A casual lunch date with another person of the opposite sex might be permissible but also might be viewed as 'cheating' even if it was totally innocent. So I do not plan to go there!

So today "to all the boys I've loved before" (to paraphrase a song of which I am rather fond!) and all the girls who are part of my circle of sister-friends, sisters in spirit if not in blood or sorority-type ties, this one is for you! Walk in peace and beauty, in harmony and balance for he rest of your days and know our spirits walk together, here and in the future!

                                                              ***

Tomorrow I will get some shots of new mesquite leaves posted. I think they will come out as I took care to get the distance and focus right and the light to show the best of the lovely color. Spring is here! My hummingbirds are back, lilacs and roses are now blooming, and despite some blips in the weather which bring us mostly wind and a bit of brief cooling, hints of summer's approach are already making themselves felt. That is the wonder of the desert--I sometimes say our four seasons are not summer, almost summer, summer, and just past summer!  We're in the almost now with an occasional glance back at not summer almost with a degree of nostalgia! But since I am a summer/sun/hot person, the nostalgia is limited.

No Coincidences?

I just saw on the news where Annette Funicello and Margaret Thatcher have passed away today. One might think what an unlikely pair to be linked, even in death? But not really. Annette of Mouseketeer fame was an icon of your youth if you are in the Baby Boomer Generation. Cute, bouncy and bubbly, she probably represented a paradigm of sorts, just what a lot of us wanted to be. Not me so much, yet the name was there in my past--a young woman for the early years of rock 'n roll before it became just rock, before Haight Ashbury and Kent State and an end to innocence for a generation. She was also a brave fighter for her disease and seemed to work quietly for that cause for the last couple of decades. For that I admire her. She was a lady, too, very different from some of today's divas, many of whom I think go too far in their flaunting and taunting and blatant disregard for the mores and morals that still guide a large portion of our citizens.

Margaret Thatcher, after perhaps Golda Meir, was an irresistible  powerhouse of a woman who broke the glass ceiling and became a national and international leader. Iron Maggie might not have been universally loved but she was respected. She was tough and stood as solid as a massive bluestone from Stonehenge. I admired her. Although I had no urge to go into politics and do not to this day, I had to look up to her for her strength and courage and sometimes ruthless support and demands for what she felt to be right. Without her, there could probably be no Hillary Clinton, no Condaleeza Rice, no female presidents of nations as diverse as Argentina and South Korea. It is now not at all inconceivable that the USA could have a woman as our Chief Executive as soon as the next election. There are murmurs if not louder mentions of a Hillary-Michelle Obama ticket in 2016. Now that would be something! But before Margaret Thatcher, that could not even have been a distant dream.

So I feel the world is a better place that these two women were a part of it. They left their marks in vastly different ways but they leave a legacy that successors of later generations can climb on to reach still farther and higher and to strive for new goals and dreams and breakthroughs.

I was not a TV star or a politician but I was 'liberated' from my early years. There was really nothing I was told I could not do because I was a girl, a woman. I grew up a "tomboy" tagging after my father and working beside cowboys and outdoorsmen of many kinds. I learned to ride and train horses, to shoot a gun to kill rattlesnakes or marauding coyotes that threatened my livestock and deer to butcher and put in the freezer to feed the family. I learned how to change a tire on a truck, to do some simpler repairs on a vehicle if it needed maintenance or broke down far from any garage or mechanic. I could drive nails and cut boards to size with a saw, either a hand saw or a power saw. I could cut fire wood with a chain saw and split big logs with wedges and a sledge hammer into pieces that fit a stove or fireplace.

Before me, pioneer woman had done these things and more but in the Twentieth century they fell from use and applicability. Thus not a lot of men, much less women, did such things unless they were ranch-raised and living on the edges of modern society as I did. At the time, I often resented parts of my life but looking back, I realize I was blessed to experience much that very few were privileged to observe, much less take part in.  And that background leads me to admire any woman who is a pathfinder, a trail breaker, and without a lot of fanfare just goes her own way and does what she feels needs to be done whether it is performing, running for office, or stepping into various traditionally male professions like law enforcement, fire fighting, the military and blue-collar trades. To me that is what 'feminism' really is all about.

A Few More Pictures and Notes

I mentioned fillaree and the budding process of mesquite a few days ago. I finally got some pictures. Here is a look at a fillaree plant. The flowers are about 1/3" across. The little spines are the seed pods and they are softer than they appear, not thorn-like at all.

The next two shots show the mesquite before it begins to leaf out and the second when the process has barely begun. You can see the bumpy brown 'buds' that do not look a bit like they are hiding new leaves! Then they start to pop out. I'll get a picture of a full new leafing in a few more days since they are beginning to unfurl now. Like I said,  the green is sooooo pretty! I hope the color will come through fairly well.

And below I got some pictures looking up the hill toward the "A" and the slopes on both sides of that particular point. You can see just how rigged this country is! The cliffs are mostly limestone--the white and light color rock--and there are some layers and outcrops of a darker stone which I have not yet identified, perhaps schist or some other common stone. I would suspect they are both the sedimentary type, anyway, as there is little sign of volcanic activity around here to create the igneous types of stone.Boy, those geological terms have hidden away in a dark corner of my brain, almost lost!! I had to dig a bit for them.

 You can see the "A" right in the center of this one. I stopped at the edge of the area where I parked on Sunday so that is how far Ginger and I walked and climed! The white scar to the right is where part of the trail goes up--it is just bare rock, some in 'stair steps' and other parts tilted faces that are fortunately not too slick to walk on. The clouds are starting to look more like the summer ones now, not all the way there but no longer the darker more somber looking winter clouds--puffy white little sheep and marshmallows up there if you will allow my whimsey!


This second shot shows more of the darker cliffs. I need to get a closer look and determine what kind of rock they are. There were some similar around Bisbee, AZ and also the Verde Valley and some of those are rich in minerals. Since there is little sign of mining here I guess these are not but I do not know for sure. There are some homes built way up on the hills--we do  not have a lot of bad weather but I would hate to drive to and from some of them if it was the least bit icy or snowy! Yikes. Dry roads would be a challenge although I know the views would be fabulous. But I wonder how they get water. I suspect there may be some springs up in the canyons they can draw on since those canyons drain mountains 8,000-9,000 feet in elevation.

An Easter Pilgrimage

Here in New Mexico they have been talking a lot about the pilgrimages many folks make around Easter to the old shrine at Chimayo (say Chee-my-oh) which is somewhat like the southwest's version of Lourdes as a bit of dust from the chapel floor is said to perform miraculous healing. Others climb a hill called Tome (say Toe-may) --both sites in the northern part of the state.

I had resolved a few days ago that I would make my own 'pilgrimage' by taking a climb I have been thinking about for close to a year now. Like many towns, Alamogordo had a whitewashed letter on a hill overlooking the city. A trail that winds up the mountain to disappear over the crest, several thousand feet above the level of the valley and the town on the lowest foothills goes past it. I found the trail one afternoon when I was just scanning the incredibly rugged and steep mountains to the east with binoculars and conceived the mad dream  of hiking up there. I knew I might not make it all the way to the crest any time soon, if ever, but the top of the "A" was a goal I was pretty sure I could achieve. Since I got Ginger I have been walking a lot and could feel the improvement in energy, wind and stamina. I was ready!

I did not get up quite as early as I had intended but around eight I parked the little white Ford "Pattie-wagon" (I'll share the story of that name later!) in the vacant lots that allow a parking space for hikers. Ginger and I got out and with a day pack to carry water  for us both, my camera and my handgun--it is getting to be snake season and one never knows who might be hiking out in the hills), my trusty saguaro stave hiking stick in hand and Gin's leash, we set out. To the right is Ginger on the trail at the top of the A! She was doing a perfect sit-stay while I took the shot!

I missed the trail--the lower area is very cut up with dirt bike and ATV driving so we ended up climbing up a rugged little canyon with cactus and treacherous footing for some distance but finally gained the trail. From there it was clear, steep and rough but I just trudged on. Ginger never did seem to get tired. By nine we had reached the top of the A! The trail goes right across the topmost part. I sat down on the whitewashed stones and took in the amazing views. It was a lovely bright day, a slight S-SE breeze just enough for a little cooling as it dried my sweat-damped shirt. I got water out for us both and rested. It felt like such a blessing to be there--alone except for my furred friend who shared the trek with me, at peace with all and a part of the wonder of nature that surrounded me.

There is something about the desert! Well, I am not sure what the Middle East was like two millenia ago but I suspect even then it was mostly desert too--stretches of dry sand, steep, rugged and rocky mountains, little water and not a lot of plant life yet in a quiet way teeming with life just as the American southwest is. So even in that I was part of a long and holy connection from the day they had found Jesus had risen until this day. I did not need to go to church or dress in fancy new clothes to show off or to celebrate. For me this was infinitely better!

My shadow stretches off down the hill. Below you can see a bit of the trail and in the widest part of the road cutting off the top fifth or so of the shot, my little car is a teensy dot of white. The white rocks show on both sides of my shadow.  Here are two more pictures of the view from up here. I will go back; not sure when as it is soon going to be hot and more likely for snakes to be out etc. but the hill is mine now and I know I can get there, maybe even go a little bit farther! Howl-ay-lool-ya!! And no irreverence intended; I am just giving our little triumphant cry in kind-of dog talk here! May the risen sun--or Risen Son, according to your faith--shine warm on you this day and into the future and blessings shower upon you and yours! I feel very blessed by my adventure and a gentle sense of triumph that I did it.

 The left shot is looking to the north and the other, straight west; my  house is off to the far right lost in the rest of the town but only about a mile and a half from where we parked the car.

Welsh recipes and steam punk

I can't believe that March is slipping into its final week! Where in the world does the time go?

Before it is over, I do want to keep my promise and post a few recipes from Wales. That region holds a bit of my ancestry since my maiden name was Morgan, the same one I chose for my first nom de plume way back when,  well before  I  published Powerful Medicine and Andy vs the Colonel, now nearly twelve years ago! If my husband, bless his heart, ever felt a twinge that I did not use my married name when I started striving for publication, he never gave me the slightest hint. In fact he joked a lot about being "Mr. Gwynn Morgan" when he accompanied me to some RWA and RT conferences in those years. So although some non-fiction work appeared under the Gaye Walton name, all my fiction is under either Gwynn Morgan or Deirdre O'Dare--the later all appearing after he had passed away. Anyway Morgan is a Welsh name and there was some Welsh blood on my mom's side as well.I celebrate that heritage with pride and bow to the Welsh dragon, a handsome beast indeed.  Below is Llanberis Pass in a mountainous region of Wales. Very rugged terrain! I visualize my ongoing Gothic tale taking place in a similar locale. There will be more on it in my other blog before long.

So here are a couple of recipes:

Teisen Fel or Honey Cake

2 cups sifted flour (modern flour probably does not need sifting)
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 cup butter or margarine
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 egg yolks
3 egg whites
1/2 cup honey--warmed to liquid
1 tbsp warm honey
1 tbsp confectioner's (very fine) sugar
2 tbsp milk (use if eggs are small)

Mix flour, cinnamon and soda. Separate the eggs, leaving one egg white separate. Cream butter and sugar, beat egg yolks and blend in and then gradually add honey, continue beating. Stir in flour mixture and add milk if batter seems stiff. Beat the single egg white and fold in. Grease small cake pan (8-9" sqare or 8" round) and pour in mixture. Bake at 400 for 20-25 minutes. Let it cool in pan for two minutes and then remove and cool on wire rack. Beat the two egg whites with the fine sugar until thick. Brush cake with tbsp of warm honey and dab meringue mixture on top so it stands in points. Put back into over at 325 for 10-15 minutes until meringue is set and delicately golden on top. Meringue can be left off and top with fine sugar instead.

Swper Mam or Mother's Supper

8 large bacon rashers or ham slices
2 medium peeled and finely chopped onions
1 cup grated hard cheese (cheddar is good)
pepper and salt to taste if meat is not salty

Spread half the meat in the bottom of a fireproof shallow dish--cake pan or casserole dish.
Cover with the chopped onions followed by the shredded cheese. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Top with the rest of the meat. Bake at 375 for an hour until the top meat is crisp. Traditionally this is served with either baked potatoes in their skins or Welsh Omelet.

Crempog Las -- Welsh Omelet

2 cups flour
2 eggs, separated
4 tbsp milk
2 tsp chopped parsley
pinch of mace or nutmeg'salt
bit of fat to grease pan

Put the flour in a bowl and add spices and beaten egg yolks. Mix with fork then stir in milk, beating until mixture is smooth. Whip egg whites stiff, add chopped parsley and fold in egg whites into the batter, mixing well. You can  fry in a large skillet until firm and then cut into quarters or separate to fry individual pancakes. Be sure pan is very hot if cooking the whole thing before adding batter! Flip to cook both sides golden brown. Spread with butter and serve with Mother's Supper.

There you are! Fairly easy and quite delicious!

And now to steam punk. It's becoming quite a fad and has developed a number of offshoots now with fictional offerings in science fiction, where it began, and now romance and even westerns. I think part of the popularity is the fact we all secretly love the idea of playing dress up, let's pretend and role playing games--sometimes it may be hearkening back to the Medieval or Renaissance eras like the Society for Creative Anachronism and the various Renn Fairs etc; it may be Star Trek and other sci-fi based conventions; it may be reenactments of the old west, the Civil War etc and now we add a revamped Victorian era with twists to history, wonderful gadgets and inventions, wild adventures such as are found in the fiction of earlier writers such as H. Rider Haggard and Jules Verne and added inspiration from several films like Wild Wild West and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. The neat thing is you can weave in whatever fantasy or off-the-wall things you fancy! What is not to like? I'm rather new to the whole idea but find myself quite taken with it so I expect you will be hearing more as I attempt some fiction, probably combining romance with either the western or the more traditional venues and maybe even getting personally involved. I've already started to invent an avatar or character for myself. More on her soon! And yes, she has Celtic heritage! Drop by later in the coming week to meet Alana Quaterfoil--my tongue-in-cheek nod to Haggard's Alan Quartermain of King Solomon's Mines etc. Africa and the Orient are not the mysterious realms they were in the 1800s but one can still pretend, go instead to the old west or diverge from history and visit an alternate world that may somewhere actually exist.