I have always been more comfortable where ever there is desert. Even in my years at Prudhoe Bay Alaska I was happier at Prudhoe Bay an arctic desert than in Anchorage. At age thirteen Mom and Dad drove me from Missouri to California, (yup. I am one of those Route 66 kids) to see the grand opening of Disneyland.I fell in love with the desert then. I went back to Freshmen year in highschool and wrote a composition about the desert and its magic. Also drew a desert landscape that depicted the vastness. I did this in art class and it included saguaros, an arroyo, and part of an old mine entrance with Route 66 stretching on endlessly into the horizon. At thirteen I was hooked. So deserts draw me like a magnet and desert loving people become my friends. The high desert of Santa Fe, New Mexico, the frigid desert of the Northslope of Alaska, and of course my passion, my addiction, the arid opal bearing deserts of Outback Australia. Hence the name Parched Earth Opals.
So, as I am not in Mayer for a few days, I write today of why it was natural that I ended up here writing of desert rats and people who wear many hats.
