FIGments Of Imagination

This is Deputy Digby Pancake.  We arrived in Santa Barbara, California yesterday, and wow, was it a long ride.  Not really.  It was only two hours from Arroyo Grande.


But since the persons decided they wanted to see a few more things before really hitting the road hard next week to that Florida place, it seemed only appropriate that we stop at the world’s biggest fig tree.  Actually, I don’t know when it is ever appropriate to stop at the world’s biggest fig tree.  But everyone should do it. When I saw it, well, I thought maybe it was a FIGment of my imagination!


The persons told us that probably not many people would go out of their way to see a tree.  But why not?  People will go out of their way to go to stores, or see statues, or even go to museums.  But a tree that is the largest fig tree in the world, on the middle of a busy street, has so many people that drive by it, and never stop to give it the respect it deserves.  What they don’t FIGure out is that your life should never be so busy that you can’t stop to admire a fig tree.

The only way that a fig tree this large could disappoint me would be to not let me pee on it.  I have peed on a tree in all 48 states, and this would have been the absolute dream to mark my spot…FIGuratively speaking of course.  But the fence around it told me that this was not possible.  And as Girl Person talked about the fruit on it, and the cookies that she used to eat when she was little that were soft and chewy and gooey…well, I thought that if I ever could plant a tree other than a pancake tree, this would be it. Soft. Sweet. Gooey. Chewy.  Just. Like. Me.

We are carrying a lot of things back with us to our new house…wherever that is.  Memories and lessons are just some of them. We put all of these things on a shelf like a FIGurine.  Because we have lived the dream.


We have saved seeds from our favorite fruits and vegetables to plant, we bought a little sequoia tree, and we made a bird feeder. These things all need a home now as much as we do.  But just like this fig tree was transplanted and moved in order to reach its full potential, that has been where our paths and our journey have led us too.  Every single stop, and every single state on this trip has prepared us for our destination.  We feel like  home is a destination, just like the fig tree should be in Santa Barbara, California.  Things worth stopping for and appreciating in our lives may not things on a tourist map, or that you have to pay for.  And finding a house may seem like something ordinary too…to most people.  But I can tell you this.  For us, this is probably the most exciting part of our journey.  And the most scary.  Because it feels like it will never happen.  Is a house just a FIGment of our imagination?  The fig tree showed us we can do it. Why? If a fig tree can be moved, uprooted, and grow into the world’s largest fig tree ever, maybe our life will be the best ever.  We have to keep watering our hopes and Girl Person says we might even need to put a fence around it to keep focused.  Because we can do this!

This fig tree, even though it is over 100 years old, still has fruit, is still beautiful, and continues to grow.  It also still keeps growing fig cakes.

At least my fig tree will.  FIGments of imagination?  I think not. Sweet.  Chewy.  Gooey.  Where I plant my fig tree by my pancake tree will be the best place ever. Now, we just need to find it.  Thank you fig tree.  Thank you for being there when people decide that you are important enough to visit.  You are the biggest, the largest, the prettiest fig tree in the whole wide world. The important things in our lives will always be there for us too.  When we are ready to appreciate them.  Make the time.  Life is sweet.

-Deputy Digby Pancake

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Please Stay On The Trail

This is Deputy Digby Pancake. I am a dog of few words unless it is about pancakes. And I am a dog of many words if it is about pancakes. And it is always about pancakes, so I suppose I am a normal, barking dog of just enough words.

Who cares about the clouds when we’re together?
Just sing a song, and bring the sunny weather.

Today, we are headed out of camp to another spot in this California place. Girl Person and Boy Person figure that since we are here, we might as well see just a few more things they want to see before they head out.

Girl Person says that spending the last year and a half rushing around has made her realize that there is pretty much nothing to rush around for. She says life is going to happen, no matter what you do. Whether you rush to get there or take your time is your choice. And I think you know my choice. Since the roads back to that Florida place aren’t going anywhere, we aren’t staying on the trail. In fact, we keep getting off of it.


So we are going to another wine region…surprise, surprise. And then, for years, Girl Person has talked about something called a french fry burrito that is in somewhere called San Diego. In case you didn’t know, french fries to Girl Person are like pancakes to me. Peanut butter cookies to Brickle. Nachos to Boy Person. And french fries are a valid excuse to spend our last days in California. Enjoying something we all love. I can love french fries too. I know it. Can you put maple syrup on them?

If you had to choose which one of us out of Brickle and I sticks to the trail, I suppose you would probably guess it would be me.


Actually, I know you wouldn’t pick me. I just tried to throw you off. The trail. Yes, truth be told, I never want to stay on any trail. I never want to stay on any road. And I never want to go in the direction that I am told to go in. I will go the opposite. That is my trail, in fact. And you know what? The older I get, the less I care about what direction I am told to go in. I have earned these foxhound strides to go where I please, much to the distress of Girl Person lately and her hurt arm. Guess all those years of pulling her off mountains, down mountains and off trails have taken their toll. But if she would just let me go in what direction I want to go in, it would be a lot easier. But just for a second, because then I would go the opposite way.

Some trails are happy ones,
Others are blue

Girl Person says that perhaps I should have had a job as a trailblazer. I don’t know what that is, but if it entails blazing trails by peeing on Brickle’s head, I have that covered. She says that is not what it means, but that it would be discovering new trails. Well, in my opinion, because I am a dog of just enough words, and they have about run out today, I am the best trailblazer in my own way! Trails to me are only one path you can go. There are so many others around it and off of it, still waiting to be discovered. If we only stick to one path, and don’t go down the ones we want to explore, how will we know if we like it? How will we know if our true destination is the opposite way we are going? Only if we try to go down that path. We can always turn around.

And so, if you have stayed on the trail for too long, it isn’t too late to go down another. There is still enough daylight left. Get off the trail.

It’s the way you ride the trail that counts,
Here’s a happy one for you.

-Deputy Digby Pancake

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