Shelby and I spent our last night on the road in Susanville, California. A scenic agriculture valley that, considering we'd just driven across the Mojave, looked ever so much like the promised land to me. We pitched a tent at the Good Sams RV park just off the main throughfare. It was a lovely park, with globe lights, and grass and soft dirt. Important for us tent campers. The bathrooms were spacious and came equipped with blow dryers and the park had wireless, so we could sit in our tents and catch up on correspondence. Plus, no need to haul anything to and from the car. We parked five feet from our campsite.

The only drawback was the domestic violence that broke out the next morning. Not in the RV park, mind you, but in the neighborhood across the creek. Long before 6 a.m. I heard a man hurling unkind words at a woman. I never could make out what the fight was about, but when he brought it outside, and woke up the bleeting goats that must have been his or his neighbors, I decided it was time for Miz Shelby and I to pack up our gear and head for the showers. The last thing I wanted after the snake-shooting incident in Oklahoma was to be in a headline reading "Campers shot."

Oh, well. So much for sleeping in. We were on the road by 8 a.m., this time Miz Shelby took the wheel, while I read, and slept and studied the passing scenery, which included white cranes on Eagle Lake and dozens of them perched on a tree outside the Lava beds near TuleLake.

We arrived in Bend, Oregon around 2:30 p.m, had a late lunch with Stephan and then over to the spa next door for a massage and facials. Konnie joined us after work. All three of us girls fell asleep during the facials. Our legs were so akimbo we could barely walk the 3 blocks to Konnie's house.

She treated us to dinner at McMennamin's Pub. I had the prime rib ... mmmmgood.

The next day we kicked around Bend for a bit, then Shelby drove us on into Hermiston, where I arrived to find Poe twice as big as when I left him, and Tim about the same size as before.

Got up early enough this morning to hear Pastor Terry preach about praise as a verb and a noun. The trip to the Grand Canyon brought Terry's message into focus for me -- praising God for who He is and what He has done.

We tend to focus only on the what He has done or hasn't done part, often leaving off the Who He is. But stand on the edge of the earth's navel at sunrise and you'll find yourself considering Creator in a whole new way.

It's good to be home. Poe wants to play but I am too doggone tired.