March 30, East Tawakoni, texas (33 miles, city property next to TJ's store.)
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
The outcasts.
March 29, Grand Saline.
It was a mess parking the circus this morning, the field soon turning into mush; there will be a lot of towing tomorrow, or maybe tonight (as they did last week in Honey Grove.) Fridman drives the truck loaded with emergency tires and thus has to be last in the order of vehicles in case somebody needs assistance, so we arrived next to last, as usual, and for once that did us good: seeing what was going on we agreed with the guy who parks the circus (days I say I'll ask him what his name is) to stay just outside of the lot where it's relatively mud-free; we didn't get stuck and should get out without a problem. Fridman then spent most of the morning extending cables so that we could hook up to the generator.
Later he joked that we were like the outcasts of the circus, sitting out on the other side of the fence.
It was a mess parking the circus this morning, the field soon turning into mush; there will be a lot of towing tomorrow, or maybe tonight (as they did last week in Honey Grove.) Fridman drives the truck loaded with emergency tires and thus has to be last in the order of vehicles in case somebody needs assistance, so we arrived next to last, as usual, and for once that did us good: seeing what was going on we agreed with the guy who parks the circus (days I say I'll ask him what his name is) to stay just outside of the lot where it's relatively mud-free; we didn't get stuck and should get out without a problem. Fridman then spent most of the morning extending cables so that we could hook up to the generator.
Later he joked that we were like the outcasts of the circus, sitting out on the other side of the fence.
Pastoral utopias.
March 29, Grand Saline.
It looked as if we were smack in the middle of nowhere, driving in this morning, lost at the end of a maze of back-country roads part asphalt part mud, a couple of nice houses standing out among dilapidated houses and trailers (hard to believe anybody can live there,) a small wood bridge on the other side of the road by the entrance to the rodeo grounds where the circus is parked. It would be nice to live in a place like this, far in the country, quiet and serene, what I dream for, a farm somewhere in the middle of nowhere, land and a creek maybe, growing my own food (ok, except chocolate, tea, coffee, Thai food, oh and the absolutely needed Rocky Road ice-cream,) the pastoral utopia, but not without my high-speed internet or NPR or overnight mail, because utopia or not there are some things one simply cannot live without, right? Then I took a walk this afternoon with Dylan and Nicolas and discovered that the main highway through town was on the other side of that wooden bridge, its noise reverberating all around. So much for quiet and serene.
On with the pastoral mode, the route was along a country highway, and everywhere green green green green an orgy of green. And then on the road near the circus, a blue barn.
Friday, March 28, 2008
The pine trees
March 28, Athens.
It smells wonderful here, the smell of pine trees after the rain, and grass, stepping out of the truck after a long but uneventful trip as if in an oasis. It looks wonderful too, all of a sudden it seems the trees are covered in spring green, bright almost unnatural green, when two weeks ago when we started out winter still reined unchallenged, the trees barren, grey, dormant soil, life suspended.
A trailer with a (different) view.
March 28, Athens, Texas (63 miles, across from Athens Intermediate School.)
Experimenting with another angle as I'm having focus issues with the traditional one, a result of my shooting with a little point-and-shoot (actually anything but, the digital IXUS900Ti Canon camera is a wonder of technology - but still there are things you can only do with a full-fledged camera.)
It is Sheyla on the right, hooking up the electric cable on her motor home.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Home?
March 27, Balch Springs.
We are near don Sandro's home. Again this feeling of home, strange.
Fridman is trying to fix the trailer's support that broke the other day so that he can unhitch and go get the Avion trailer (the one we used the first year I traveled with Circus Chimera) we left at an RV consignment place since it is not selling and costing money each month on top of it all. I'm getting ready to go shopping, and this time I know exactly where to go.
We are near don Sandro's home. Again this feeling of home, strange.
Fridman is trying to fix the trailer's support that broke the other day so that he can unhitch and go get the Avion trailer (the one we used the first year I traveled with Circus Chimera) we left at an RV consignment place since it is not selling and costing money each month on top of it all. I'm getting ready to go shopping, and this time I know exactly where to go.
A sale.
March 26, Palmer.
Richard called yesterday saying he had sold our minivan; we had left it behind in El Cerrito in his care; he called again this morning to confirm that the sale had gone through, and for a price we didn't even hope for. We have some celebrating to do, and some thanking, too.
Richard called yesterday saying he had sold our minivan; we had left it behind in El Cerrito in his care; he called again this morning to confirm that the sale had gone through, and for a price we didn't even hope for. We have some celebrating to do, and some thanking, too.
Long-legged surprise.
March 26, Palmer,.
Armando, who performs with two horses, came back from the cook house at lunch today to find a guest in his horses' enclosure: a foal. Here it was, on the hay along one of the circus' trucks, where the animals are kept during the shows, with its mother at its side, bloody but otherwise fine.
Sweet sleep.
March 25, White Settlement.
Driving in the morning not only suits me perfectly, it is also much better for Dylan and Nicolas, this much is clear after only a week or so of traveling. They already know the routine, waking up when I pick them up from their crib but soon falling back asleep if we start out right away. Nicolas is always the first one to be out, and sometimes Dylan, distracted by the radio or Fridman and I talking on the CB radio, doesn't fall asleep until we're almost there. In all cases it is infinitely better for their sleep pattern, which has been and continues to be the biggest issue for me; Nicolas is just getting into the habit of learning how to fall asleep on his own (and not waking up at night, which was achieved early last week as we started the season,) and with Dylan I'm trying to establish a regular sleep time, with more or less success depending on the days. So I am grateful not to have to wake them up right after they have finally have reached their goal, and it is a momentous one at this age.
Driving in the morning not only suits me perfectly, it is also much better for Dylan and Nicolas, this much is clear after only a week or so of traveling. They already know the routine, waking up when I pick them up from their crib but soon falling back asleep if we start out right away. Nicolas is always the first one to be out, and sometimes Dylan, distracted by the radio or Fridman and I talking on the CB radio, doesn't fall asleep until we're almost there. In all cases it is infinitely better for their sleep pattern, which has been and continues to be the biggest issue for me; Nicolas is just getting into the habit of learning how to fall asleep on his own (and not waking up at night, which was achieved early last week as we started the season,) and with Dylan I'm trying to establish a regular sleep time, with more or less success depending on the days. So I am grateful not to have to wake them up right after they have finally have reached their goal, and it is a momentous one at this age.
A trailer with a view.
March 24, Rhome, Texas (44 miles, Fire Department grounds.)
Rien a signaler, other than a sloped, small, rough grassy lot.
Easter.
March 23, Frisco.
The owner of the Kelly Miller Circus, John Ringling North II, invited the whole circus crew to a restaurant for lunch today for Easter. And in the morning there was an Easter egg hunt on the lawn of the Frisco City Hall, by the circus. There are so many kids in this circus, it looks much like a daycare facility on nice-weather days, like yesterday, with all of them running around outside on anything from baby car to 10-speed bicycle. I don't know them all yet but they range from 11 months old, with Nicolas and Grania, Sarah's daughter, to a 12 year old, Jorge and Carmen Rosales' eldest son (to be continued.)
John Moss at the Easter egg hunt.
Three shows.
March 22, Frisco.
Three shows today (and a guest appearance for a group of school children) to make up for the day off tomorrow, or maybe because it's Saturday, I'm not sure.
Three shows today (and a guest appearance for a group of school children) to make up for the day off tomorrow, or maybe because it's Saturday, I'm not sure.
Toothy chicks.
March 21, Frisco.
The circus is staying three days here, in this far northern suburb of Dallas, so I am writing late at night, in a quiet trailer, while Fridman and Dylan went out with Sheyla, Alain, Friedman and don Sandro and dona Maigo, who came to visit. No locking the fridge doors, strapping elastic bands around upper cabinet doors so that they won't open even though they're not supposed to (they always do, eventually,) no going around to check everything is in place for travel.
Three days! It sounds like an extended stay for us veterans of a week of one-day stopovers. And not only that, but a day off, something akin to a chicken with teeth in the circus world as I know it. I've simply never seen Fridman have a day off in all years I've known him, other than by force majeure, as happened on Tuesday because of the wind and rain.
We are parked in an nondescript place, a place that won't be available next year (or maybe it will, if the economy keeps going south,) a place-to-be, brand new city hall and buildings set up to look like an old main street rising in the middle of nowhere next to the Dallas Tollway, at the corner of Main Street and Coleman Street, said the route card that we get every morning to guide us to our destination; we are out of rural country and in one of those suburban landscapes that became so familiar the last two years with Circus Chimera, miles and miles of shopping malls, fresh-paint new, some buildings still under construction, all the usual brand names and more, form Maine to Oregon, behind them housing developments after housing developments, along highway 380 here one of them advertising "weekly home owners' events," and all of the land in between going out for sale, the rural country fast disappearing, a few dilapidated farm houses and buildings by the side of the road out of place already. On the radio dial I found NPR.
On the way over: Foster Crossing Road, Throckmorton Road Exit.
The circus is staying three days here, in this far northern suburb of Dallas, so I am writing late at night, in a quiet trailer, while Fridman and Dylan went out with Sheyla, Alain, Friedman and don Sandro and dona Maigo, who came to visit. No locking the fridge doors, strapping elastic bands around upper cabinet doors so that they won't open even though they're not supposed to (they always do, eventually,) no going around to check everything is in place for travel.
Three days! It sounds like an extended stay for us veterans of a week of one-day stopovers. And not only that, but a day off, something akin to a chicken with teeth in the circus world as I know it. I've simply never seen Fridman have a day off in all years I've known him, other than by force majeure, as happened on Tuesday because of the wind and rain.
We are parked in an nondescript place, a place that won't be available next year (or maybe it will, if the economy keeps going south,) a place-to-be, brand new city hall and buildings set up to look like an old main street rising in the middle of nowhere next to the Dallas Tollway, at the corner of Main Street and Coleman Street, said the route card that we get every morning to guide us to our destination; we are out of rural country and in one of those suburban landscapes that became so familiar the last two years with Circus Chimera, miles and miles of shopping malls, fresh-paint new, some buildings still under construction, all the usual brand names and more, form Maine to Oregon, behind them housing developments after housing developments, along highway 380 here one of them advertising "weekly home owners' events," and all of the land in between going out for sale, the rural country fast disappearing, a few dilapidated farm houses and buildings by the side of the road out of place already. On the radio dial I found NPR.
On the way over: Foster Crossing Road, Throckmorton Road Exit.
Sheyla arrives.
March 20, Whitewright.
Sheyla, Alain and their son Friedman arrived yesterday from Springfield, Misosuri, where they were working with another circus. They'll be with us for two weeks, Alain helping with the tent and Sheyla doing what she does, taking care of Friedman.
The lot here is wonderful, trees and grass and the small town all around us, and the weather perfect, sunny and breezy, the circus looks like a slightly oversized picnic party. There are vendors setting up for a week end flea market right by us.
On the road over, "Jackie Jester Excavation."
Sheyla, Alain and their son Friedman arrived yesterday from Springfield, Misosuri, where they were working with another circus. They'll be with us for two weeks, Alain helping with the tent and Sheyla doing what she does, taking care of Friedman.
The lot here is wonderful, trees and grass and the small town all around us, and the weather perfect, sunny and breezy, the circus looks like a slightly oversized picnic party. There are vendors setting up for a week end flea market right by us.
On the road over, "Jackie Jester Excavation."
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