Back from Trip to Home.  From Thursday of last week until Sunday, I was traveling back to and around my old "stomping ground" in California.  This is the area from which my first published writing emanated–primarily travel articles. I was one of three writers making this trip. We had three days, each with different weather that ranged from sun and snow; sun and rain to sun from horizon to horizon.  

We stayed in a quaint hotel that was founded in 1927.  It is across the street from the courthouse in Indepencence, CA where the infamous Charlie Manson was arraigned.  We drove to the end of the road (ice and snow on the ground but sunshine everywhere) from which 60 years ago I hiked to the top of Mt. Whitney and back in one day.

One side trip was to the little desert town where I drove my family's milk delivery truck from age 13 until I went away to college. The special driver license was awarded when my mother went to the hospital for an emergency apendectomy and I was the only one in the family who could take over the delivery route.  Dad was too busy hand-milking cows.

Some of my adventures in Owens Valley have been published, but renewed visits to many sites bring all kinds of ideas for updated accounts.  Don't say "you can't go home again. . ."  Writers always can–and to great writing advantage.  Until tomorrow, Willma