Here we are deep into 2024 and I feel like this year has only just begun. Just today while running errands in and around town with Genevieve I took note of the 2025 calendars and planners in one of my favorite shopping sections...the office supply aisle. 2025?? Really?? Time indeed does not wait for anyone and with its impatience can come changes we could never see coming.
Two thousand and nineteen was my last year on the circus. Covid ended many a career, and mine too was a sad Covid casualty. Though it was not a change I wanted, chose or expected, one thing I do know and have been shown over and over in my lifetime is that the Lord puts us where He wants us...whether we like it or not. Saying goodbye to 25+ years in the same profession is a tough pill to swallow whether the departure is chosen by us or for us. This life change meant an upheaval in my permanent home and my traveling 5th wheel home. Hard too was bidding farewell to my trusty, well-worn and long-traveled Dodge Ram 3500. I am very happy to say it has a good home providing hay hauls and various rural junkets on a thriving farm not so far away. I have been told it is being treated well and not driven much over 50mph. That brings a happy tear to my eye.
I often say that I pert'near raised my kids in that '06 six-wheeled six speed. The barren deserts of West Texas bleed into more deserts in New Mexico. It truly is the land of enchantment gracing early morning jumps with stunning red and purple mesas. Here and there you can find hauntingly silent, long since used rustic windmills on vacant lands. Somewhat spooky and weirdly hard to look away from. We saw Silver City and even Sumner where Billy the Kid is buried. Seven days in New Mexico. That's it. It's beautiful (from my air conditioned vehicle as a friend once stated) but it's one rugged unforgiving expanse. That silver beast carried my kids and me over some of the steepest, snakiest, most gloriously green and sometimes snow-capped mountains in Idaho, Montana, Colorado & Wyoming. Lolo Pass was a trek that always provided butterflies in my belly and incredible rugged deer-dotted sites for sore eyes. The bluest baby blue skies of Wyoming surrounding the whitest snowy tips of endless brutal mountain range upon range are forever etched in my memory. Leadville, CO. Historic. Thinnest of all airs with its 10,000 feet up in the air. Slow plumbing. So much to take in there though. Opera house, coffee house, and that cool vintage store we loved...The Mule Kick. Only the finest in vintage band shirts. Did I mention the breathtaking mountainous views up to, in and out of the town?? It is worth a search online just to see those mountain peaks. Fire On The Mountain folks were kind enough to speed up our painted pottery projects every visit so we could make it down the mountains with our glazed trinkets in hand. What can I say about Steamboat Springs? The ultimate in extra fancy high-end tourist towns where you can ride an Alpine slide and a horse smack in the middle of town. Idaho's windy road trips, some complete with gushing, rushing, white capped waters paralleling the narrow roadways into Kooskia's Three Rivers, Bonners Ferry and Sandpoint are shining highlights dotted with tourist trips, coffee shops and the coolest of cool in downtown trinket shops and small town historical spots. Skinny rolling roads complete with hairpin turns twisted our rig through lush redwood woodlands boasting trees that looked like they could tickle the clouds. Famously friendly Humboldt County has given way to so many classic family tourist moments I am sure I have lost count. The sweet memories of Redwood tourist traps & trips to the likes of the crooked mystery house, the Grandfather tree, the house made of a single redwood trunk were all made extra special with Big Foot lore and happy hippy circus attendees. I could never forget the army green parched patches through the hills of California's Joshua Tree Reserve leading us into the emerald Kern Valley on our way to shiny, sunny Lake Isabella. California also gave us the salty terrain and white heat of the very historic and occasional movie set of oh-so-remote, dry, rocky and often windy Trona (the only US town whose high school ballfields have not a single blade of grass). Those coveted multiple day stands every other year in Buck Owens' Bakersfield gave us all the big city thrills we could squeeze in along with a visit or two from my personal bestie. That west coast tour could take us up, down and side to side through the Golden State and was made up of more than a few riveting sites, sounds, many a girls-day-outings and a Starbucks in every single Safeway grocery store. My favorite early morning surprise was to quietly pull all 41 feet of my Cyclone toy hauler into a Safeway parking lot, sneak in and dash out as quickly as I could carefully carrying a full drink tray. The faces of my two sleepy-headed blondies with their favorite morning Starbucks beverages was a sight for a mom to behold! Fun stuff!
Now, I don't mean to take away from the trusty, less mountainous, less sandy yet usually more muddy midwest tour. While the west coast tour saw sandy lots for the better part of the first 30 days, the midwest tour's opening weeks tended to live up to the circus lore of mud show. Grassy lots plus April showers often equal wearing rain boots into the circus ring to perform your act whether you wanted to or not. This tour saw us through the often under appreciated yet gorgeously untamed plains, woodlands and valleys of Arkansas. Missouri was a treat with our time spent at the City Museum. A retired shoe factory in the heart of St. Louis has been turned into the most unique indoor play ground of sorts for kids and kids at heart. Get lost in an enormous corkscrew slide, tight crawl space mazes, swing on ropes, balance on giant pencils and (painfully) crawl through huge metal coils. All this and tons more is accompanied by a tiny theater showcasing variety acts, an eclectic art studio and rooftop carnival rides and a massive slide. The Great Lake States met us with humidity but also showed us some of the most picturesque rolling hills of country side that it often looked like a movie set. Rotund hay bales lining acres and acres of freshly mowed fields, cherry red cheery barns dotting those sweet smelling farmsteads are sights I can see with my mind's eye so vividly I swear I could reach out and feel the splintery red barn wood. Mail Pouch Tobacco signs on a barn roof here and there. Well, a visit or two with family in our old Springfield, Ohio stomping grounds happened more than once over the years. Seeing our stoic white two-story on Maiden Lane brought back memories and a quiver or two in my lips. My mom's side of the family, sweet aunts and uncles from Indy came with hugs, big hearts, and enjoyed with us an occasional trip to a small town down town boutique or two. Our runs through the 'mitten' were sometimes met with McComb County's finest Polish sausages and chocolate bumpy cakes lovingly brought to us by a late dear friend who showered the show with amazing eats and awesome conversation. That bridge leading to the UP was always a bit of a nail-biter for me but we were blessed to make it safe, sound and waterside in the likes of St. Ignace, Hessel...so many big memories from the tiny UP. Minnesota not only has its fair share of scenic lakes; it along with America's Dairyland brought out the kindest circus fans. Loyal and true to the tented slice of Americana, I can honestly say that my time in the midwest ( and of course in other parts of my travels ) has been blessed by encounters with some of the most helpful and generous circus fans. Always quick with a good circus story and quick to lend a hand, I cannot convey how honored and special circus fans from all over have made me feel over the years. Flat lands, tall grasses in the prairies of Kansas and Oklahoma, where the winds really do come rushing over the plains meant almost home. Texas comes my cousins who we can always be count on...help, a familiar comfort, support, kindness...I could go on. Then come our town friends to the last of the shows. It is always a little funny feeling when town friends connect with circus...I don't really know why, it just is. Not in a bad way...I suppose it just hits a little funny when two worlds sort of collide. Sixteen weeks off.
The blessings, the memories, the adventures, the good, the bad and the ugly....breakdowns, both mechanical and emotional. Birthday parties, rare days off, setting props, mic checks, practice, hanging your cape on the guy ropes, clogs, prop crews, knowing what part of an act is on by certain parts of the music, errands, finding a mall, a Target, a mechanic, a laundymat, a grocery store, propane, somewhere to buy hay, an urgent care, the lot, long jumps, short jumps, waiting on the mechanic to come get you off the side of the road, two-day stands, blowing the arrows, cookhouse, the five minute whistle, grassy lots, getting pulled on the lot (sometimes by an elephant or sometimes by a Bobcat) getting pulled off the lot (sometimes by an elephant or sometimes by a Bobcat) cotton candy and popcorn still smell good on the midway. My day started around 6:00am and stopped at 3:00pm to get ready for the shows. My day ended around 10:00pm, sometimes later depending on so many things.
My days still start around 6:00am...I adopted a puppy a year ago and she tells me when it's time to let her out. My days still end around 10:00pm, sometimes later depending on so many different things these days.
More to come on this blog. It's been far too long.
