Thumb Rockets

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January 7, 2026- “Let me show you a trick that your granddaughter will think is the stupidest thing she ever saw”, the new friend from McKinney said over lunch at a local deli. He proceeded to have me wrap a piece of paper around my thumb, and twist it to make a little “hat” for the thumb. He’s right; I think Hana would roll her eyes at that part, when she is about eight or nine. He then had me make an OK sign with my other thumb and forefinger, put it around my wrapped thumb and pull the thumb out of the paper, but in such a way that it made the paper go up and out- a thumb rocket.

D is an interesting man who has not had an easy life. That puts him in good company with a number of people I’ve known over the years. The difference is, he’s made mostly good choices, from the time he was a child. Growing up in the north of this Metroplex, when it was a long ways from being a Metroplex, he’s seen it all happen. Still, as I watched, the farmer in him caught a small rat by the tail and disposed if it in a way that a man who has plowed through hard knocks for eight decades would do without batting an eyelash. (No, that was NOT in the deli).

Time with a good ole boy is spent in a way similar to how time is spent with a First Nations person, a nomad of the Negev, or a campesino anywhere in the Southwest or Mexico. The watch stays hidden, because schedules don’t matter. D told stories of his childhood and his large family. A lot of his experiences mirror those of my male elders. Farm life is a great connector. After the nearly ninety-minute lunch, I drove around the area a bit, to ponder all that I had heard.

I will see D., and other local Baha’is, on a regular basis, so perhaps I will earn other “tricks” that will make my granddaughter alternately giggle and groan.

The Penske Chronicles, Day 5

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December 30, 2025- Everything happens according to a blend of the needs and wants of those involved. I had a lot of downtime today, but while I waited for the DAV furniture crew, necessary calls to utilities were made, and I cleaned out the long-ignored storage shed in the carport. Lesson learned: Don’t let stuff from ten or fifteen years ago just sit, unattended. Most of it was in fairly good condition. Some was given to my dear friend, Melissa. Other items were happily claimed by my landlord, and a few things went to recycling or to the landfill.

The cleaning lady came on time and worked in the back, as it was cleared out. The furniture to be donated to Disabled American Veterans sat in the front room with me, while waiting for the movers to pick up. Melissa came in mid-afternoon, selected what she could use, and as she was ready to leave, lo and behold-there were Mo and Grant, ready to roll out the items the DAV could sell, and graciously take the other items to the dump-for a slight fee. Robert and I took care of the rest.

I had to forego both lunch with my hiking buddy and Feast at two Baha’i friends’ home, but this clear-out is done. I do not feel any wistfulness or sadness, leaving Prescott. Life is going forward, and I with it. The most precious beings in my life wait in Plano, my new Home Base and the place where I will settle by the end of this week. 2025 is coming to a close, but first, I will get to Gallup for the night.

The Penske Chronicles, Day 4

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December 29, 2025- The normally effusive server seemed terribly unnerved by something, knocking over water glasses and delivering a cup of coffee with a slightly shaking hand. I have been in a similar state, long ago, in a diner back East, so my empathy was present. Her more composed co-workers helped her keep steady, at least, and my meal was perfectly delicious. Still, I was concerned for her equilibrium and left a larger tip than usual.

This set me to thinking. Today’s post recognizes ten of the local people who made the most significant impressions on me, these past fourteen years. Not in order of importance, they are:

10. My hiking buddy, Akuura Kulak. Besides being equally enamoured as I am, of the beauty of the Southwest, and of Arizona in particular. We also have a similar appreciation for the cuisines of East and South Asia. She is a spot-on reader of people’s astrological charts and purveyor of scents, as well as essential oil blends.

9. My co-worker at Soup Kitchen, John Davidson. John is like the snarky dorm buddy that I missed more than I had thought. He is also a hard worker, running a local food pantry, as well as being a constant for Solid Rock Christian Fellowship’s community outreach activities.

8. My landlord, Robert Mosquera. Robert has never skimped on getting fixes for anything that has been out of order or broken, these past twelve years. Our complex is a simple operation, and his family occupies half of the units, but I still got more bang for my buck here than almost all of my friends in other rental situations in this area. Robert also was an enormous help today, getting a large sofa/hide-a-bed to Goodwill. It was one of those hard-to-sell items, but we got it done.

7. A consistent friend and supporter, Judy Russell. Judy has gone the extra mile in just about anything she’s done since moving here, 25 years ago. Service to our shared Baha’i Faith, to her apartment complex and to her employer, Yavapai College, has been exemplary. She was a great help, in housing my daughter-in-law, when Yunhee came here, in 2021, ahead of Aram, who was still in transit from Korea.

6. The Yetman Family: Carol and Dick, their daughter, Kathleen and her husband, Cole. This wonderful family has been instrumental in the success of Prescott Farmers Market, in the Solid Rock Soup Kitchen and in back-to-school supply events at Prescott United Methodist Church.

5. JayLene and David Long. The driving forces of Prescott’s premier fall event, Hope Fest, the Longs have transcended personal suffering and gone the distance to provide this community with a stellar faith-based day of service to the homeless and less-fortunate. The music is superb and the activities, from legal aid to haircuts, have given help to hundreds, if not thousands, over the years.

4. Molly and Gary Beverly. These farmers of Chino Valley have been driving forces in so many areas, but the greatest of these are Slow Food Prescott and Friends of the Verde River. Without SFP, school gardening initiatives might have languished and proper knowledge and respect for Heirloom agricultural products of Arizona might not have been as widespread. Without FVR, there may not have been a successful Save the Dells, which in turn has protected the Prescott area’s most unique natural wonder: Granite Dells. The Beverlys also have one of the finest farms in the area, and once had a natural swimming hole.

3. The Schaelling-Pena Family. Dharma Farm, the family of seven (and sometimes, ten), and Landen’s indomitable efforts at sustainable living and Permaculture, coupled with Holly’s gentle guidance of five beautiful children, made my occasional visits events that I could have enjoyed on a weekly basis. It was a tonic, being there and seeing young toddlers with a sense of responsibility for one another.

2. Carl Brehmer. One of the most erudite and skilled musicians I’ve ever known, a small farmer and craftsman, and certainly one of the most caring souls that the Prescott area, and our Baha’i community, can count on in a heartbeat. He was an earnest, loving caregiver to his late wife, Marcia, who also ranks as a powerful presence, with her work in fostering awareness of ADHD, both in children and in adults.

1. Meg Bohrman. Another of Prescott’s astonishingly-talented and caring musicians. Meg is everywhere, when there is a faith-based event or things like the Women’s March, the Tree-Lighting ceremony or anything sponsored by the Coalition for Compassion and Justice-or a chance for a concert by Galactogogues, or a solo stint. I first encountered Meg at a dedication event at the Unity Church, when she stood on the sidelines and cheerfully played her accordion. It’s been fabulous music ever since. Her husband, Thatcher, has been the quiet, supportive presence at just about every gathering she either headlines or performs in a supporting role.

A special mention begs here: Melissa Monahan, and her beautiful family, without whom a lot more time would have been needed for me to recover from the loss of my wife and from the missteps of the years that first followed that loss. Melissa has brought the healing element of do Terra, a commitment to true natural healing and the welcoming presence of a stable and loving family. She is also a local pioneer in the cultivation of microgreens and has been a sterling example, to me, of what it means to be a grandparent. She has arguably been my best friend in Prescott.

As with any short list, there is that roster that could go on forever. My life here would also not have been as rich and healing without my Prescott Cluster Baha’i family: John Lambert, his sister, Tammy and late wife, Margaret, Linda and Randy Smith,Gladys Stewart, Mary and John Passamani, Deb and George Konizer, Pamm Sosa, Dave and Annie Lovell, Steve and Tauby Calrow, Steve and Sharon Stone, Frank and Ellen Assadi, Claudia and Donny, Ellen Buccholz, Susan Bensch, Jerry Gardner; without Joe and Sandy Gorraiz and all the regulars at Ernest A. Love Post 6 of the American Legion; the Monday Coffee Klatsch ladies; Ashley Fine and her daughter, Sedona; Dawn Wasowicz, her daughters Arin and Brooke, and late husband, Jeff, who have made Rafter 11 such a staple of my weekends here; Allan, Bea, David, Glenda, Lloyd and Nichele-the Taco Tuesday regulars at El Gordo; The Cheektones, Jonathan Best, the Howard Brothers, Scandalous Hands, Candace Devine and Lake Francis Case, the grand family of Prescott musicians, who make the Raven, and the Courthouse lawn, so vibrant and experience; Annie Baker, Kaolin Young, Emily, Lena, JB Campos, Paul, Keaton, Marie and all those who make the Prescott Farmers Market such an integral part of anyone’s Prescott experience; Karen Pimentel, Tom Altavilla and my Red Cross family, who taught me the skills necessary to engender public safety; and finally, the workers and clientele at Monday’s Soup Kitchen: There is wisdom to be found in every soul’s story.

Tomorrow afternoon, I leave an empty and clean apartment, but I will never leave this beautiful place and all the people mentioned above, and more, in my mind and heart.

Reason Returns

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December 14, 2025- I did not go to Bellemont, and climb up a long flight of stairs, six times, in order to store six boxes of books in an already crowded room which few people will enter until next summer. I had considered that option, until early this morning.

My late wife appeared to me in a dream, as if she were right beside me. That was a nice sensation, and though I realized it was a different level of reality, some insights came to me. I got the message to check with our public library, to see if they would take 2 boxes of the books. They did so, gladly, thus bringing a more meaningful Baha’i presence to either their general stock, their saleable book collection, or both.

Regarding the actual move, consultation with my son led me to contact a possible moving assistance service, comparing their price with what it would cost me to do the move on my own. There are timing issues, as well, so I will see what their answer is. This is the U-POD system that is growing in popularity. It makes sense for people who have a high volume to move. I do not, but rather am just in that gray area, with a few too many keepsakes for one trip.

Reason made this day a nice one. I did not have to leave town, saving my energy for what lies ahead this week. I can get a lot more done tomorrow, and won’t have to worry about letting my family down, come next week.

Honourable

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December 13, 2025- Two farewell gatherings took place today. One was small and short, taking place after my last work effort with Prescott Farmers Market. I got a thank you card and a special little round of hugs and handshakes.

The second was a full-on dinner party, a gathering of Baha’is, at the home of a couple who have been here for about three years. We shared several of our experiences, as well as focusing on the challenges present in our lives. Every person alive today has challenges and unmet needs. Camaraderie both eases those and offers a way by which they can be overcome.

I was recently advised, by someone whose counsel I value, that once I leave the area, no one will give me a second thought. Yes, and no. Everyone has lives to live and must go forward, regardless of who else leaves or stays. There was today, however, an overwhelming consensus that my presence will be missed. Yes and no, for me as well. I will focus on what is in front of me, in Plano-as I have in Prescott, these past fourteen years, and as I did in Phoenix before that. That focus, and commitment to being honourable, are what earned the respect of so many in this community. They are also what lead me to see the same qualities in others. I will never forget my time here, and all that ended up moving forward, because of our teamwork.

I will pack those things that I feel the need to bring with me, and I will carry the love of people in my heart.

The Essentials of 74; The Promise of 75

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November 28, 2025, Grapevine- The road to diamond ended where it began, in the company of my little family, here in Texas’ Christmas City. There was a sense that life would continue as ever, for the three of us, and in preparation for my third visit to the Philippines, I seriously contemplated moving there, being very strongly drawn to a lovely woman and having made several friends during my first two trips to that beautiful, struggling, supremely hospitable country.

I sojourned a lot this year-to the Philippines in February; back to the eastern U.S., in May and across a wide swath of Europe in September and October. In between, my commitment to Prescott continued unabated and many hours of service were recorded. These were the fruits of twelve years of building relationships and friendships, across sectarian and even ideological lines.

The finest thing about both travels and community service came in seeing people take the reins of empowerment to themselves. Filipinos rejuvenating a local Baha’i Center, building a pavilion for an elementary school, and women standing up and saying “Enough” to abusive significant others made my spirit soar. The initial phases of a Baha’i House of Worship, north of Manila were an added bonus.

Northern Arizona became a distinct Red Cross Chapter again this year. I had little to do with the actual achievement, but was able to establish ties between the organization and at least one rural community, east of Prescott. We also reached out to formerly isolated communities in the far northern reaches of the state-albeit as an outcome of a horrific fire that ravaged the magnificent North Rim of the Grand Canyon.

Getting to spend time with friends in several European countries fulfilled an eleven year old promise. Visits to Sweden, Croatia, Ireland and the United Kingdom accomplished that goal. Paying homage to the victims of the Holocaust, at Auschwitz-Birkenau and to those massacred at Srebrenica, Bosnia & Hercegovina was the fulfillment of what I regard as a duty of a citizen of the world. In most places, my presence was evanescent, yet I felt at home, and would not be unwelcome if I returned.

I have reached my diamond jubilee. The day, and this Thanksgiving visit, have been focused on the coming move of my little family and I into a permanent home. Doing things like meeting the tradesmen who will help prepare the house, going over specs and pointing out things that need to be repaired/replaced, shopping for new furniture to replace items that are, in my case at least, nearly fourteen years old-have taken precedence. Once I get back in Prescott, in the middle of next week, the process of dismantling Home Base I begins in earnest. Furniture will need to be sold or given away, as will clothing, books and a variety of household items. Farewells will be said, at gatherings in the Prescott area, in southern California and in the Phoenix area. Farewell, though, is not an eternal goodbye.

Our little one will arrive, sometime in the second half of December. A new era thus starts, along with the beginning of my “fourth quarter”. Other than a visit to the Philippines, at the start of 2026, itself dependent on the baby’s healthy start and her mother’s health, my time at the new Home Base I, from March onward, will be primarily focused on my granddaughter’s care. Gradually, Plano will become my new community. It will not be Prescott-but then again, Prescott was not Jeddito, and Jeddito was not Jeju. Every Home Base has had its draws, its strengths and its undying memories.

The promise of 75 is the promise of guiding a new life, a new human being, who may very well be the embodiment of much that I have wanted to offer the world. The choice, though, will be up to her alone. All her parents and I can do is guide her with love.

The Road to Diamond, Day 360: Love and Mercy

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November 22, 2025- His voice cracking, and eyes starting to well, R stopped and recovered himself, then continued on with his account of the past five months, since I saw him last. R is one of the friends I will miss after leaving Prescott. He and his wife were among the first to welcome me, in 2011. Their restaurant is one of the mainstays of my life here, once a week, for breakfast or lunch. The shenanigans of the staff or of the locals that sit at the counter are always a hoot. I listened with rapt attention and reflective comments, as R filled me in on his so far successful fight for life. I want to see people win those kinds of battles.

Getting back to Home Base I, I arranged for the delivery of a piece of furniture that I have had re-upholstered. It had been in almost too sorry a condition to even invite people over. Now, it is in beautiful shape and I will be proud to hand it off to someone who needs a nice piece of furniture for their living room. As it happened, the delivery man’s schedule conflicted with my usual stint at Farmers Market, but as my cosmic advisor said of today-“It is a day to go with the flow, when life interrupts routine.” Delivery man and his helper were meticulous in bringing the piece in and getting it in place. They took their time folding their blankets and putting everything back in place.

I went to Farmers Market, anyway, and finding the crew dealing with a long line of vendors, I took care of cleaning and putting away the folding chairs and tables, then made headway in taking down at least some of the tents. It was then time for Baha’i Feast, so I left the nonetheless grateful crew, who by that time were finished with the vendors.

Feast was a cozy affair. We had our devotions and talked of community matters, then planned next month’s activities and enjoyed refreshments. This little community is also a group of people I will miss, having collaborated with them continuously for fourteen years, and having known many of them from our residence here in 1992 and 2000-01. The Baha’i Faith has only been an impetus for my positive growth as a human being.

Finally, I spent the evening at Raven Cafe, enjoying a light dinner and the music of a favourite local band, The Cheektones. Don and the boys have a knack for getting people up an dancing. I occupied an old wooden chair and had the company of a few friends of the band. After about 1 1/2 hours of bouncing in my seat, I got up and joined the dancing to the last two songs. Before I did so, the guys played a song that summed up today, and many days in my life: “Love and Mercy”, the Brian Wilson song from 1988. Here is an earlier performance by The Cheektones, from Prescott’s Summer Music on the Square series.

This is the last of my “two posts a day”, game of catch-up on this blog site. It has been sometimes a challenge, to find a theme for a given day, but from my readership, it seems there are plenty of you who identified with at least some of what has happened here, since my return from Europe.

Life is sweet.

The Road to Diamond, Day 358: New Assignment

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November 20, 2025- The farewells continued today-this time in Phoenix, with one last dental checkup by the people who have been caring for me and family since 2001. I had lunch with another friend, who I’ve known since 1992. The first gave me a new assignment: Up my dental care game, including making sure I change the head on the electric brush a bit more often. It goes without saying that I will also quickly find a provider once I move to Texas. The team in Phoenix has worked too hard on my behalf for any backsliding.

I have known LF, as a friend and mentor, so his message to always look past surface talk of friendship and support, weighing actions as well as words, will carry me into a new community. He may well be one of those who makes the journey out to visit us, and he will be ever welcome.

Back up to Prescott, after stopping at my late wife’s grave, there were two events left this evening. I stopped in at Post 6 and tended to an old favourite: The patty melt, basically a cheeseburger on toast, with special sauce (NOT Mc D’s). I enjoyed those years ago, at Friendly Ice Cream shops, a New England favourite in the ’60s and ’70s, that still has some franchises open. Of course, there was banter about current affairs, but we all respect one another’s views.

The last gathering of the night was Community Day of Thanks. This is the 13th such event, held since 2012, on the Thursday before Thanksgiving, at a different place of worship each year. The Coalition for Compassion and Justice is the host group for the event, which featured every major Faith Group in our area. Of course, Baha’i participants offered a reading, followed by a song. Here is Carl Brehmer, who led us in this song, offering homage to the angels that so many people find comforting.

It was truly a fine day, from start to finish. Now I have to keep working on the teeth and gums that God gave me.

The Road to Diamond, Day 307: Auschwitz-Birkenau

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September 30, 2025, Oswiecim, Poland Today would have been Penny’s 71st birthday. Each year since I first met her, including the fourteen years since her passing, the day always brings a special event, either Baha’i teaching or a visit of significance.

Entrance to Auschwitz-Birkenau Museum

Today, I had the opportunity to visit the sites of one of the darkest chapters in human history. Auschwitz and Birkenau were concentration camps, separated by 3 kilometers, but under the same commander: The infamous Rudolf Hoss (not to be confused with Deputy Fuhrer Rudolf Hess), implemented the use of Zyklon B, a pesticide that became the nerve agent which alone killed a million people. Hoss was tried, convicted and executed in Poland, in 1947. (Rudolf Hess, as is well-known, flew to Scotland, believing he could convince Scottish “opponents” of the War to hasten British withdrawal from World War II. The Scots were not amused, Hess was imprisoned and then transferred to Germany’s Spandau Prison, in 1947. He was the sole remaining prisoner there, when he committed suicide, in 1987, at age 93.)

My late father-in-law was a Jewish-American, served as a soldier in the final months of World War II, during which he was captured during the tail-end of the Battle of the Bulge, and was held in the POW camp at Berga, in eastern Germany. I have been to Berga and seen the V-2 Rocket Factory’s remains. Pop was sent to work the salt mines. When he was rescued by a unit of American soldiers, in June, 1945, he was nearly skeletal.

That was the fate of many, if not most, of the survivors of Auschwitz and Birkenau, as well. They numbered about 6200, out of over 1,100,000 who had been held in at the Auschwitz Complex. Jews, who Hitler and his henchmen wanted above all to exterminate, were the preponderance of victims. Men between the ages of 17-60 were made to work, usually until they were broken, physically and mentally. They were then executed. Women, children, the elderly and the infirm, including the mentally ill, were summarily gassed to death.

Besides the Jews, Romany, Russians, Poles, Czechs, Freemasons and the occasional Afro-Germans, were also sent to concentration camps, and executed by poison gas. Auschwitz and Birkenau were the two largest facilities for such hideous practices. in time, even Christian critics of Hitler found themselves in the gas chambers. Birkenau, being the larger camp, had 30 gas chambers. Auschwitz, with four sectors, had ten. As the Soviet forces closed in on Auschwitz, the fleeing German Army forced most of the remaining prisoners west, on a Death March to Germany and Austria. Thus did many die on their feet, though not as many as were gassed.

Here are five scenes that are here to remind us that the Holocaust was no Hologram.

“Barracks” # 1, Auschwitz
Torture House,, Auschwitz
Women and children victims, on their way to the gas chambers. (They had been told they were on their way to a glorious new life.)
Discarded children’s shoes and a father’s suitcase, with his son’s name written on it.
Hana Reiner would not let herself be forgotten. https://www.writeoutloud.net/public/blogentry.php?blogentryid=139212
The Nazis themselves destroyed this barracks, rather than allow it to be preserved by the Soviets and Poles,for what it had been,

I thought back to the early morning, when I boarded a train in Krakow, bound for the city of Oswiecim, (the Polish name which was translated into German as Auschwitz). A mentally disabled man chose to sit across from me. He was an Italian, who had little vocabulary, in any language. He knew “English” and “Deutsch”, as well as a few words in Italian and Spanish. While he was annoying to the young man sitting by the window and the well-dressed Italian man who sat across the aisle, I let him show me the soccer games on his phone. At the end of the one-hour trip, he cheerfully said “Grazie!” and went on his way.

That gentle man would not have had a chance to ride the rails, in Hitler’s Germany. He’d have ended up in the pile of corpses found by the Russians, or in one of the piles of ashes that were dumped in the Vistula River or behind the Subcommandant’s House at Birkenau. He can ride the rails, as he pleases, in today’s Europe, not being harmed and harming no one,

Auschwitz-Birkenau, and all places like it, are needed reminders of exactly what levels of depravity can come from a deluded pursuit of false perfection.

NEVER FORGET!

The Road to Diamond, Day 283: Sendoffs

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September 7,2025- There is much that I will miss about Home Base I, during the next seven weeks.

“It’s raining!”, the lady said, as she passed me on the sidewalk, this morning. It was not raining, so maybe her comment was sparked by my bush hat, which was meant (along with sunscreen) to guard my face and neck from UV rays. Such silliness is rare in Prescott, these days. Most people with whom I am even mildly acquainted have wished me safe travels, on the journey that starts tomorrow and will end the last week of October. There is much to be done, in those seven weeks. There are those who see it as an extended vacation-even though I am no longer working for wages, save a few chosen gigs in the schools. There are others who are confused when I say I will see them in two months, probably because they themselves just returned from a long trip. Most, though, have encouraging comments to offer.

I had a pleasant conversation with several fellow American Legionnaires at our usual breakfast this morning. Some are planning their own trips, across the U.S. and down to Mexico. Most will keep the home fires burning.

Another visit, to a couple who had recently gone on a night photography trip to the Navajo Nation, gave me an opportunity to see just how striking the Milky Way is, relative to the great monadnock ( single monolith rising from a surrounding plain) called Ship Rock. I have observed that sacred place many times, and photographed it from a fair distance. Our galaxy’s stars are most visible at night, from a southwest angle. In order to view it, one must be accompanied by a Dineh (Navajo) guide. This is what my friends did, and they had a great time. They were not among the recent travelers who seemed confused by my farewell. They have been to many of the places on my itinerary and wished me well.

A sizable group came to the last event of the day- a Spiritual Feast, which I was honoured to host, at the home of other friends. We had a lengthy and fruitful consultation about several matters. Then, most of the friends also wished bon voyage. The spiritual feast, a Baha’i institution, is always more special when a large group takes part. It is even more special when the assemblage takes on the nature of changes that are engulfing society, and works at discerning those events and processes that proffer good from those that bring ill. Our mission is to promulgate the good in individuals and in communities.

So, after all that, I have readied my backpack, and will have enough time tomorrow to pack my carry-on, by rising early. There will plenty of time to doze off, on the shuttle to Phoenix.

There is much that I will miss about Home Base I, and much that I will treasure about the places that lie ahead.