personal time

The road ahead.

Driving from the far south toward Gettysburg gives you great insights. Lots of time to think and look at the immensity of our country.

As we head north, many changes take place.  The scenery changes. Vast swampy areas with the tops of trees sprouting above brackish green water are replaced, ever so slowly, by lovely wooded expanses of green conifers intermingled with wintry skeletons of birch, oak, maple and others.

The road, of course, is never- ending … a black ribbon with white edging. The flat landscape of the south is also replaced by gentle hills and the mountains of Tennessee.

The people change too. Not for better or worse , they’re just different, each distinct in their own right, and wonderfully diverse.

I love traveling this great country.

Robbie asleep in back of truck.

Dream Catcher in truck.

We’ve started back north.  It was a great visit, but I think Robbie, our dog, will be happy to get back into his own environment.  As usual, he was and is marvelous to travel with – the Big-A– Truck helps as well.

I do some of my best writing while I drive – in my head, of course.  I usually use that time to tackle problems in timelines, storylines, characters, etc.  If I solve the problem, I pick up my handy tape recorder and record the solution as best I can for later use.  Now that I have an iPhone, there is also a place to record notes.

This is at least a two-day trip with the dog, so I will keep my blogs short for the next day or so.

Thanks for listening.

I suspect we are all reflecting on the past year.  World events alone were enough to cause us pause – mostly involving that unmentionable word ‘Terrorism,’  which is likely being called something politically correct like ‘man-generated acts of random violence perpetrated in the name of a group or cause’  -  or in government-ease MAGARVIPNGC (I sometimes fear the inmates are finally running the asylum.) We also lost a few really good folks in 2009, like Andrew Wyeth, artist, J.G. Ballard, novelist, and Jack Cardiff, cinematographer and director.

I suspect many of us are reflecting on what it is we, personally, accomplished this past year.  Mine was unusually fruitful, if not overly ambitious.  In January/February my wife and I (and our dog, Robbie) traveled to Taos, New Mexico, to a wonderful rented hacienda, where I found the quiet and inspiration to write my latest novel, The Gettysburg Conspiracy.  I then spent the next months rewriting it until I’d hammered it into something I wanted to publish – writing is rewriting!

For the last half of 2009, I actually succeeded in publishing this novel, and bringing another five-year project to a close by successfully publishing a photographic compilation of surviving Crimean War artifacts – Crimean Memories: Artefacts of the Crimean War.  They are both on the street now, and I will spend much of 2010 promoting them.

What did I learn this past year?  I learned that writing one, and publishing two books in the same year, although rewarding, is not something I will likely do again.  I am beginning to meet myself coming and going.  I am supposed to be retired from two careers – the military and Federal law enforcement.  I think I can say with full confidence that I have officially flunked ‘retirement.’

The other thing I learned this past year is how much I love and need my family (That would be Rosemary, Robbie, our dog, and Lummy and Sunny, our horses).  My family have a lot to put up with in me.  I am eternally thankful for their forbearance and support.

I know that the coming year will be awesome, and would like to wish anyone reading this … and I hope someone is … the happiest of new years, filled with the richness of love, friendships, and peace.

Taos hacienda - New Mexico

My family - minus the equine branch

Yes.  On the road again – thank you Willie.  Southbound from snowy Gettysburg to not-so-snowy Louisiana.  Roads were clear, but there was and still is a lot of snow on the way south.  Then we crossed the border into Tennessee.  It was like a miracle – no snow, much warmer, and a sudden burst of rich green grass covering rolling hills.  My first thought was what magnificent horseback riding country.

I’ve been all over the world.  It may sound cliché – a bit flag-wavish – but I really don’t care.  I never cease to be touched by the beauty of this country.

Robbie on his throne in Big A-- Truck, with Rosemary keeping him still for the camera

Last minute packing and prep for our trip south.  Leaving Gettysburg at double-oh- dark thirty tomorrow morning. Robbie, our Shetland Sheep Dog, full name Robert Burns Hutchison, knows he’s going and is excited.  He travels amazingly well.  We’ve made the back seat area of the Big A– Truck his castle.

It’s built up to allow him to be on the same level as Rosemary and me, and he can come up front to sit or stand between us whenever he wants –  to make certain we’re safe … and of course to ensure he doesn’t miss anything. Mostly, though, he comes up front to guard us against all those evil people who might dare to venture inadvertently within ten yards of the truck. The rest of the time he merely curls up on his “throne” in the rear area, where he can look out the windows, enjoy the sights and smells, and munch contentedly on the odd treat.

He loves going to hotels, and they love him.  He actually prances across the lobby – the center of attention, a dog star with his entourage, nodding to his fans as he passes. In the motel room he immediately finds a place, then lets us know with his body language and his eyes that it is, in fact, his place.  No luggage must be set down there under pain of bark or stern look.  He may occasionally growl in a low voice if ‘evil doers’ (read hotel staff or guests) pass the room too close, but no constant barking … unless they’re impertinent or intrusive enough to come to our door.  Then he’s up, on guard, and might let out one sharp, piercing bark of warning to the impudent outsiders that his charges are being protected by the ever vigilant Robbie Security, Inc.

When he wants to go out, he barks once, softly, but insistently. There’s no mistaking his meaning, and he won’t repeat it.  His searing gaze says it all.  He who must be obeyed wants to be taken for a walk – immediately!

He prides himself on remembering exactly which room is ours.  Upon our return from our walkabout, he pulls me to it, stops in front of the door, sits abruptly, looks up, and tells me with his eyes, “Yes, Dad, this is the room.  Now lets go in.”

Now I know that every one of you who have a dog have similar tales to tell, but allow me this indulgence … Robbie is awesome!

In case I forget in my travels, folks, have a wonderful holiday season, and the very best year yet.

Robbie in a festive mood at Christmas

I am packing for our Christmas trip down New Orleans way to visit my stepson and his lovely wife, and I am reminded of a Christmas season during a simpler time in my life.  I only had a small rucksack.  My bulkier gear consisted of a poncho to be used as a ‘basha’ type shelter and for protection from the incessant rain, a poncho liner to ward off the night chill, and an extra pair of socks.  In rucksack, on belt, and in pockets went numerous smaller items such as maps, compass, homemade distance-counting beads, my trusty K- Bar knife, a complete swiss army knife (if I was lucky), the essential all-purpose Model M1A1 eating tool – - – a plastic spoon, tooth paste, tooth brush and one small towel.  Of course in those days I carried as much water as I could manage, rations, the clothes on my back, and little old me. I could go anywhere, do anything, and be perfectly content.  We also didn’t worry much about snow.

Not so today !

Now my toilet kit is full of things you have to plug in.  I am going south out of the snowbound Gettysburg area, so I need winter clothes for travel at the start, and fall type clothes as we near the 50-60 degree weather.  In case we might go out to eat at some point, I need slacks and a sport coat.  Then there’s sweats to lounge in, as well as extra socks, shorts, belts, and shirts. Add to that my computer and accessories so I can keep on a bloggin’ and I’m almost packed.  Oh, right, I forgot, saddle, bridle, and a pair of boots – just in case we run into stay horses we might ride.  Did I mention the dog, our wonderful Shelty, and all the paraphernalia that goes with traveling with an animal?

It’s a good thing we have a “BAT-mobile” (Big-A_ _ Truck).  I sound like I’m complaining, but I’m not – not really.  After all, in that simpler Christmas season I also carried ammunition and a weapon, and had to duck a lot.  This is much, much better.

Will and one of his Marines in simpler days - III MAF, Republic of Vietnam

Last night was a cold, wet, windy, and very dark thing. After a few pints at the Garryowen, I decided to watch a good movie. As I sat searching through my DVD collection I could see the trees in the woods surrounding the house waving back and forth alarmingly. When this happens I always consider when one of these mighty trees might break like a twig and fall on the house.

Something else occurred to me while I was searching for a movie to ward off the fierce wind, as it had so many times before. I needed to be careful of my choice. Although I’m still in the research phase of my next novel, I’ll be writing soon enough. I have found in the past that while writing, I can’t read other novels or look at movies that might be even remotely related to my story. Otherwise there is the danger that I might come afoul of the dreaded ‘creeping sickness’. That somehow, somewhere, the story, characters, or even scene setup might creep from what I was watching or reading into my own story.

This probably sounds silly if you’ve never tried writing fiction, but I suspect those of you who have gone down this lonely, agonizing road will see and understand my plight.

So, my friends, I with great reluctance set aside the John Wayne classics, Zulu, Appaloosa, and Lonesome Dove, and inserted my worn copy of “As Good as it Gets.” A wonderful movie, and as far from historical fiction dramas as I thought I could get. On the other hand, it wasn’t a total loss. If you’ve seen it, than you know it is an amazingly funny film, marvelously acted, and containing some of the very best dialogue (in my opinion) in filmdom.

No trees fell, the wind settled down, and I was happy with my choice – because it made me laugh.

Historical fiction by Will Hutchison:

———————————————————-

We have three children – ages 5, 9, and over 20. The youngest is a beautiful and gentle Shelty named Robbie.

The 9 year old is my amazingly sweet, western trained roan Appaloosa-Thoroughbred cross, named Sunny…

The oldest, leased by Rosemary, is a wonderful Thoroughbred, named Lummy.

Today is their day. I’ll groom all three, walk Lummy, and ride Sunny. Lummy needs the most care. He was actually lame when Rosemary began working with him. He’d been on the race track, a jumper, and won many ribbons in equitation, but was headed downhill. He had been the alpha horse, but was pushed aside as he got older. He’d lost his mojo. Rosemary has been working with him every day, caring for his ailments, joints, bones, and such. She has brought him back completely. He appears sound again and has won ribbons. He’s got his mojo back, and is once again the top horse among his peers!

Horses calm me. It is an awesome thing. When I’m writing I take breaks to go to our stable close by. Whatever state I’m in, whatever thoughts race through my always working mind…it turns to immediate calmness around the horses.

Sunny is priceless. He’s the most responsive horse I’ve ever ridden. He has a beautiful ‘buggy’ trot with his head lowered that I could ride all day.

Robbie, of course, is ever present…ever vigilant…always protective…and always makes us smile. He is the bright sun in our lives, and he shines … he purely shines.

——————————————————————