Twelve hundred miles, twelve hundred miles, ….

It’s too far too walk.  Or drive.  Or fly.  Just to get my  new TFTW book signed.  I can’t fault the shipper.  They were expedient.  Prompt.  Speedy.  Only the book flew out of there before Mr. Fenn could sign it.

I’m jealous of you New Mexicans, Coloradans, Arizonans, and others who live within a couple hundred miles of Santa Fe.  Don’t it make my brown eyes green. 

Forrest Fenn.  Douglas Preston.  Michael McGarrity.  Details for you lucky ones who can mark October 22nd on your calendars —

http://www.collectedworksbookstore.com/event/forrest-fenn-too-far-walk

And now, the blues.  Folk music, rather.   I’m also going to have to forego the chance to have a glass of wine with Forrest and to hear Bob Haworth of The Brothers Four and The Kingston Trio, (am I old enough to remember? almost, maybe) in front of a cozy fireplace in the lounge at the Inn and Spa at Loretto!

The Inn and Spa at Loretto (Photo credit: Jim Nix / Nomadic Pursuits)

Details:   Monday September 30th from 6 to 9.  See Stephanie’s blog Chase Chat for the invitation to bloggers. 

Also, Tuesday, October 1st from 5-7  (you’ll need to RSVP).  Visit Dal’s blog, Thrill of the Chase, for the actual invitation from Forrest Fenn/Charmay.

My RSVP —-   Regrets.

Where will I be?  Twelve hundred miles NorthEast by East (–ish).   Flyover country.  The Midwest.  Flat lands.

I plan to start a campfire.  (That would be about 6 or 7 pm CST.  Hmm.  Still daylight savings time?  Whatever.)  I’ll crack open a bottle of wine.  Put on some folk music.  Watch the blaze.

Warm waters blazing a trail down my cheeks….maybe.

My feet are wet from thinking this thing over. . . [See/hear Blue Umbrella lyrics by John Prine.]

Any Midwesterners so inclined may join me in spirit.   Can you play guitar?

Five hundred miles, five hundred miles, oh Lord, I’m five hundred miles away from home.

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