My 1,000^th entry.

Geez, that's a lot of typing. A lot of words to read.

Guess maybe I should consider going back and archiving a few hundred. Must take a while for the entire "Older" list to appear on screen by now.

A lot of feedback, too. A whole bunch of people I never knew whom I now care about. And think about.

Some more than others, recently.

And I had high hopes for this entry. Something impressive for such a landmark. Intentions of finally getting one of my field sojourns down in electronic impulses and magnetic fields, complete with photos. Or perhaps a selected chronicle from one of our trips this month.

No such luck. Spent most of the day hassling with financial forms. Trying to recoup some of the expenses from the two workshop trips from the Outfit. And because of the peculiarities of our work, the location of the workshops, and the workshop meals, it is pretty much impossible to do without committing perjury (in the legal sense). (Like, our employer does not allow the possibility that a person might be driving home on two different dates, without stopping in a town and using a motel. That the concept of driving an hour and a half past midnight is just physically not possible.)

So anyway, no great entry for number 1,000.

Just this.

When the wife and I honeymooned (we actually honeymooned in four different places) in the motel we again occupied on the 14th of this month, we had a great view. We were in the more recent addition to the motel, when they gave up the design of having each and every room with its parking space out front, and added a new wing with a second floor.

We had a second floor room, with a view of someone's horse pasture immediately outside the window, with a few expensive (Mind you, that does not mean huge. In this community you pay for the location.) homes beyond, at the edge of the conifer trees that covered the mountain which blocked the morning sun.

Even at the time, we wondered how anyone could afford to keep so much acreage for horse grazing inside a town where lot prices were so ridiculously high.

Well, they couldn't.

The horse pasture is now a trailer park for campers. And there are quite a few more homes nestled into the trees at the base of the mountain.

But we would have been satisfied with that view.

Instead, we were on the ground floor, facing the parking lot.

This was our view.

Isn't it lovely?

At least the bus driver did not wake us up at oh-dark thirty in the morning with diesel fumes.

And fortunately, the tour bus was gone the next three nights.