Today Drake fulfilled a lifelong wish: He got to see the Baseball Hall of Fame. Believe me, it's not exactly easy to get to this place. Cooperstown, New York (population 1800) is in the middle of nowhere, otherwise called the Mohawk Valley. It's smack dab in the middle of dairy farm country. We left Franconia yesterday and drove and drove and drove to get here. We finally reached the exit on the Interstate, and THEN we drove another 40 minutes. Cooperstown in a quaint little town filled with architecture that goes all the way back to the 18th century. It's actually named not for James Fenimore Cooper, but rather for his father.
The entire downtown area (location of the Baseball Hall of Fame) is filled with souvenir shops, baseball card shops, equipment shops, buy a bat shops, a wax museum, and little restaurants and cafes. It's surrounded with motels, hotel, inns, and bed/breakfast mansions. No wonder! At peak times of the year thousands of people visit. Inductee weekend can see 80,000 visitors. (Can you imagine a town of 1800 hosting 80,000 people?)
We visited at one of the most uncrowded times; only in January are there fewer visitors - can you say 'snow'. Instead of thousands of people thronging the museum, there were literally less than 10 people visiting today. We got to see every exhibit, take photographs and look at everything completely unimpeded. I asked Drake for his impressions about the Hall of Fame, and the verb he used was "surprised". His expectation was that the building would be 'old' (it wasn't), and that it would be jam packed with glass cases full of baseball stuff. Instead, we saw an open, airy space on 3 floors, and an exhibit policy that reflected the credo that 'less is more'.
Some highlights: First and foremost was the plaque gallery - individual bronze plaques with a bas relief sculpture of the inductee's head (wearing the baseball team cap the inductee chose) together with a short recitation of their accomplishments. Additionally, I loved the case of World Series 'rings'. The 19th century equipment display was fascinating. The statistical part of the game was handled in an interesting way. Drake really enjoyed being in a first class museum dedicated to his greatest interest: baseball. As he put it, "This place makes baseball seem important because the museum is of such high quality." We marveled over some things, learned some things, and saw more 'art' that I expected.
This was a supremely fun day. I took a bunch of photos (of course), and hope you can get a sense of this place from the pictures.
https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011CooperstownBaseballHallOfFame?authkey=Gv1sRgCK7fh7uknZPMnwE
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
New Hampshire Peculiarities
We've lived in enough sections of the USA to discover that each region has its own peculiarities that go way beyond the "Cowboy" reputation of Texas or the laid back reputation of the West coast. I have loved living in New Hampshire for the past four months, and one of the delights beyond the temperatures and the scenery has been the state's wonderful little peculiarities. Here are the ones that have struck me:
1) Topping the list: How can you help but love a state that puts up a historical marker to an alien abduction. Here's Betty and Barney Hill's 15 minutes of fame. (Note: This is less than 10 miles from our house up here.) They had a 'conference' and an unveiling of this marker just a few weeks ago.
2) Our favorite New Hampshire word: "SHORE". No, not an ocean or river edge; it's what the natives up here reply when you ask for something:
Example - "Can I have some extra napkins?"
"Shore".
3) Most unusual drink I've encountered: a staple of 19th century New Hampshire : SWITCHEL
It's the soft drink of hay making season. You just mix vinegar, molasses, ginger and honey. Be sure to chill it in the brook. (There are no creeks up here - only brooks. Up the brook without a paddle just doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?) We live close to the Skoocumchuck Brook - great name, don't you think?
4) A close runner up in the drink category is Birch Beer. This is a local product that tastes like flat root beer - I think it's an acquired taste. I did wonder if it is made from tree bark and sugar, but no one knows.
5) Thinking about strange drinks makes me think about the food up here. No Mexican food. Now, don't get me wrong, they have Mexican Restaurants - at least that's what the signs say, but I've had a spicier taste just standing in the salsa aisle of a Texas grocery store. I'm going to go berserk for Tex-Mex when I hit Texas. I'm having withdrawal.
6) Another food item that was definitely an also ran up here are "corn dogs". First, it took the fair food vendor 3 tries to even produce a corn dog, and then it could only be charitably be called a 'corn dog second'.
7) On the smooth side: Lots of maple stuff, and it's so delish! The obsession with maple in both New Hampshire and Vermont goes way, way beyond syrup. Speaking of which: Did you know there are a zillion 'grades' of syrup each of which are used for different purposes. I'm sure there must be one grade that you just bathe in. My favorite maple items: Number One: MAPLE COTTON CANDY. It has absolutely spoiled me for the pink sugar variety. Number One: MAPLE WALNUT ICE CREAM. (No, I didn't make a mistake - it's a tie.) Oh, and let me just mention in passing Maine Wild Blueberry Juice because we have loved drinking it. I have also enjoyed Lobster Rolls which are really, really hard to get outside of New England - unless you go to Nova Scotia. Finishing up the food/drink section here: There's only one place in 50 miles of Franconia that serves fountain Dr. Pepper. Sometimes we just eat at the Littleton Diner just so I can have a DP fix.
8) We live outside a 'village'. There is some set of mystery numbers that delineate a village from a town, but we haven't been able to discover what those numbers are. Anywho, Franconia is a village. It has 900 people. Being part of a village has some quirks: First, we freeze our garbage. Our chalet has no disposal, and no trash pick up; therefore, we make a weekly trip to the 'transfer station' - the New Hampshire equivalent of 'dump'. (Trash control = bear control up here.) In Franconia we have "The Business that Does Everything". Yes, it's an actual establishment that dog sits, makes copies, sells locally made cosmetics, and local dog food. It is the UPS pick-up location, and sends out your dry cleaning to Concord as well as notarizes your documents, rents computer time, and does about 15 other things - all under one roof! It's really hard to make a living up here. You have to admire the ingenuity of the woman who owns this.
9) County Fairs: I'm becoming an expert at the country fair. I loved the fairs in Washington, and I've always loved the cadillac of fairs: the Texas State Fair. Some of my most vivid memories as a kid involved the Tulsa State Fair - where I first fell in love with cotton candy. NH fairs have their own twists: Female lumberjack contests, an emphasis on vegetables (especially the giant variety), and scarecrow contests.
10) New Hampshire has many claims to fame, but one I particularly like is their distinction of having the largest legislature in the United States (bigger even than the US Congress). Considering NH is ranked 42nd in state population, these people pretty much each have their own personal state legislator. Another fun fact: The giant legislature is still meeting in the oldest continually operating state house in the USA. NH also has one president to their credit: the 14th - Franklin Pierce - (1853-57), but they should disown him - he's widely considered by historians to be one of the worst presidents ever. They should have just stuck with Daniel Webster, another famous New Hampshire native. Having lived up here even briefly, I can tell you that these people are political animals, and I feel pretty comfortable letting them winnow out the Presidential candidates for the rest of us.
11) Another New Hampshire peculiarity is its granite. It contains some chemical that melts the granite when it comes in contact with water - a pretty easily come by commodity up here. That melting granite is responsible for a granite formation that fell off one of the White Mountains in 2003. The vanished formation is still called "The Old Man of the Mountain". One day it was there, and poof, the next day gone - crashed several hundred feet down the mountain due to the melting granite. This was a NH icon, and all their highway signs have this profile as part of the sign. The New Hampshire solution: Build a monument to the formation that no longer exists for tourists to visit. Don't laugh, I've been there.
12) And thank heaven for tourists or New Hampshire would be empty. Especially the White Mountain region which is about 1/3rd of the state. There are no 'cities' in New Hampshire. There doesn't seem to be any industry other than tourism, and in the mountains there's certainly not much farming. I have to admire the way they have maximized their one big resource: SNOW. (220 inches last winter right here where we are living.) We are perched at the base of one of the biggest ski resorts in New England (Bode Miller's home mountain). Snow = gold in New Hampshire. The other tourist gold comes in colors of red, orange and yellow. We have never seen such an autumn. The 'fall foliage' of New England so touted everywhere lived up to the hype. I only took about 300 pictures of leaves. They were so exquisite that I couldn't help myself.
13) I can't leave New Hampshire without exposing the Moose Conspiracy. There are about 10,000 fictitious moose in New Hampshire. We've been here for four months and thus far, the only thing we have seen are the evidences of the conspiracy which was formed to convince tourists that there are actually moose up here for the viewing. They even have 'moose tours' ($28 per person to see people dressed in moose costumes at a distance). There are signs everywhere: Flashing ones - SLOW: Moose next 5 miles. Yellow diamond - Moose Crossing. and my favorite: Brake for Moose - IT COULD SAVE YOUR LIFE. Take my word for it: THERE ARE NO MOOSE IN NEW HAMPSHIRE
While this blog has been tongue in cheek (and hopefully a little funny), New Hampshire has been a delight. How can you not like a place where you get up every morning and look out over a changing mountain view, surrounded by hundreds of beautiful trees, rushing streams, and magnificent sunsets. I've fallen a little bit in love with the White Mountains. New Hampshirians are not morose grumps who walk around sayint "Yup", but friendly, gregarious and pleasant. I'm also ready to LEAVE before we get some real snow. There's a taste of snow showers coming a couple of days, and that's all I want - just a taste. Texas here we come.
2) Our favorite New Hampshire word: "SHORE". No, not an ocean or river edge; it's what the natives up here reply when you ask for something:
Example - "Can I have some extra napkins?"
"Shore".
3) Most unusual drink I've encountered: a staple of 19th century New Hampshire : SWITCHEL
It's the soft drink of hay making season. You just mix vinegar, molasses, ginger and honey. Be sure to chill it in the brook. (There are no creeks up here - only brooks. Up the brook without a paddle just doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?) We live close to the Skoocumchuck Brook - great name, don't you think?
5) Thinking about strange drinks makes me think about the food up here. No Mexican food. Now, don't get me wrong, they have Mexican Restaurants - at least that's what the signs say, but I've had a spicier taste just standing in the salsa aisle of a Texas grocery store. I'm going to go berserk for Tex-Mex when I hit Texas. I'm having withdrawal.
6) Another food item that was definitely an also ran up here are "corn dogs". First, it took the fair food vendor 3 tries to even produce a corn dog, and then it could only be charitably be called a 'corn dog second'.
7) On the smooth side: Lots of maple stuff, and it's so delish! The obsession with maple in both New Hampshire and Vermont goes way, way beyond syrup. Speaking of which: Did you know there are a zillion 'grades' of syrup each of which are used for different purposes. I'm sure there must be one grade that you just bathe in. My favorite maple items: Number One: MAPLE COTTON CANDY. It has absolutely spoiled me for the pink sugar variety. Number One: MAPLE WALNUT ICE CREAM. (No, I didn't make a mistake - it's a tie.) Oh, and let me just mention in passing Maine Wild Blueberry Juice because we have loved drinking it. I have also enjoyed Lobster Rolls which are really, really hard to get outside of New England - unless you go to Nova Scotia. Finishing up the food/drink section here: There's only one place in 50 miles of Franconia that serves fountain Dr. Pepper. Sometimes we just eat at the Littleton Diner just so I can have a DP fix.
8) We live outside a 'village'. There is some set of mystery numbers that delineate a village from a town, but we haven't been able to discover what those numbers are. Anywho, Franconia is a village. It has 900 people. Being part of a village has some quirks: First, we freeze our garbage. Our chalet has no disposal, and no trash pick up; therefore, we make a weekly trip to the 'transfer station' - the New Hampshire equivalent of 'dump'. (Trash control = bear control up here.) In Franconia we have "The Business that Does Everything". Yes, it's an actual establishment that dog sits, makes copies, sells locally made cosmetics, and local dog food. It is the UPS pick-up location, and sends out your dry cleaning to Concord as well as notarizes your documents, rents computer time, and does about 15 other things - all under one roof! It's really hard to make a living up here. You have to admire the ingenuity of the woman who owns this.
10) New Hampshire has many claims to fame, but one I particularly like is their distinction of having the largest legislature in the United States (bigger even than the US Congress). Considering NH is ranked 42nd in state population, these people pretty much each have their own personal state legislator. Another fun fact: The giant legislature is still meeting in the oldest continually operating state house in the USA. NH also has one president to their credit: the 14th - Franklin Pierce - (1853-57), but they should disown him - he's widely considered by historians to be one of the worst presidents ever. They should have just stuck with Daniel Webster, another famous New Hampshire native. Having lived up here even briefly, I can tell you that these people are political animals, and I feel pretty comfortable letting them winnow out the Presidential candidates for the rest of us.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
World Series - Part Two
I wrote Ranger posts last year when we got to the World Series for the first time. Somehow, it's more exciting this year. I think I was like the players last year: Couldn't quite believe we got there and just thrilled to be one of the last two teams playing baseball. This year.........well, I expected us to be back - told Drake so in March at Spring Training. It wasn't luck that won 96 games this year - it was talent carefully cultivated and nurtured on all levels of the Ranger organization. However, once you get to the play-offs, then there's an element of luck - just ask the Phillies! (They won 102 games, and they didn't move through the play-offs.) My point is that while we all hope to win the World Series this year, we have to be prepared for luck, karma, or the Baseball Gods intervening.
All the talking heads seem to believe this is a toss-up series. OK - maybe on paper. There's one thing I know about baseball - all of that analysis really has little to do with the outcome of the individual games. There's no telling which team or even which players on each team will rise to the top. Example: Nelson Cruz, 7th place hitter, usually just an OK fielder, who had been cold as a mackerel at the plate in the last portion of the season, becomes the bigger than life Ranger with two multi-run home runs both in extra innings. Let's just say, that if we go into extra innings with the Cardinals, that Nellie will be WALKED.
Is it any wonder that baseball players are ultra-superstitious? Facial hair (Michael Young starts to hit when he shaves his ugly beard. The bushier Scott Feldman's beard gets, the better he pitches.) Titanium necklaces (check these out - even Washington is wearing one) Sox: up or down? Rangers have two players that like to show their sox - can you name them? And how about 'the cobra' - check out this year's symbol of power - watch a Ranger who gets a crucial hit make the cobra sign to the dug-out. And those are just the obvious things a fan can observe - let's just say that I'll bet there is at least one pitcher with the team who's wearing the same dirty underwear he had on when he won his last big game. I'm glad I don't know who - really, really too much information.
Basically, we're about an hour away from the 2011 World Series start time. Let's just all have a great time cheering and moaning over each game, and then remember, it's only a game and this is just entertainment. You have to admit, though, it's good, good entertainment.
To ice the deal, I've been wearing my lucky, vintage Ranger jersey today in Concord, New Hampshire. Got lots and lots of puzzled looks - the Rangers aren't exactly a household name (or logo), but we Texas fans don't care. We know they are a truly fun team we can be proud to root for. Let's Go Rangers!
All the talking heads seem to believe this is a toss-up series. OK - maybe on paper. There's one thing I know about baseball - all of that analysis really has little to do with the outcome of the individual games. There's no telling which team or even which players on each team will rise to the top. Example: Nelson Cruz, 7th place hitter, usually just an OK fielder, who had been cold as a mackerel at the plate in the last portion of the season, becomes the bigger than life Ranger with two multi-run home runs both in extra innings. Let's just say, that if we go into extra innings with the Cardinals, that Nellie will be WALKED.
Is it any wonder that baseball players are ultra-superstitious? Facial hair (Michael Young starts to hit when he shaves his ugly beard. The bushier Scott Feldman's beard gets, the better he pitches.) Titanium necklaces (check these out - even Washington is wearing one) Sox: up or down? Rangers have two players that like to show their sox - can you name them? And how about 'the cobra' - check out this year's symbol of power - watch a Ranger who gets a crucial hit make the cobra sign to the dug-out. And those are just the obvious things a fan can observe - let's just say that I'll bet there is at least one pitcher with the team who's wearing the same dirty underwear he had on when he won his last big game. I'm glad I don't know who - really, really too much information.
Basically, we're about an hour away from the 2011 World Series start time. Let's just all have a great time cheering and moaning over each game, and then remember, it's only a game and this is just entertainment. You have to admit, though, it's good, good entertainment.
To ice the deal, I've been wearing my lucky, vintage Ranger jersey today in Concord, New Hampshire. Got lots and lots of puzzled looks - the Rangers aren't exactly a household name (or logo), but we Texas fans don't care. We know they are a truly fun team we can be proud to root for. Let's Go Rangers!
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Visitors from the Lone Star State
I wouldn't want to move back to Hurst. However, that doesn't mean that I don't miss my friends. Email is good. Cards are good, and the phone will do in a pinch. None of those communication devices is as good as face to face. Drake and I were both delighted when Paula and Doris (friends of long standing) decided to visit us in New Hampshire and peep the leaves. They arrived right on time and stayed with us for five days.
We prepared carefully for the visit. Our 'chalet' has wonderful windows, some comfortable furniture, our 40" flat screen (sitting next to a 30" picture tube Sony - belonging to the house), a sturdy large wooden table and chairs. The kitchen has nice appliances, but you can stand in the center of it and touch EVERY wall. In other words, it's hard for more than one person to be in it. I knew food preparation would be hard, so I planned our meals carefully. Drake and I were both a little anxious - OK, I was anxious - because as whacko as the kitchen is here, the bedrooms are just plain squirrelly.
First, there are three bedrooms, but only one closet. One bedroom is so small and impacted by the staircase, the bunk bed in the room is such a squeeze you have to crawl on your hands and knees to open the window. There's no possibility of a closet in this room because of the oil burner in the room. The second bedroom has no closet, but it does have a queen size bed AND a bunk bed set. It's such a tiny, tiny room for that much furniture. We also have a sleeper sofa in the only common area of the house. I was anxious that our friends would be gracious about the bed situation while they were here, but on the plane would be dissing us BAD.
Well.........I'm pretty sure nobody got dissed on the plane over the beds because we all fell into our respective beds exhausted every evening. Every day was such fun, and we were on the go from early until just before sunset. Nobody wanted to miss the sunset, or the adult beverages that accompanied it every evening. The visit was also helped by having absolutely glorious weather - mid 70's and sunshine every day. Oh, and the leaves were at PEAK. We went on a tram ride to the top of a mountain, ate maple everything (maple walnut ice cream, maple drops, maple sugar candy, maple syrup, and the creme de' la creme: maple cotton candy - divine!) We went to all the attractions at the Franconia Notch State Park - lots of rushing water, impressive granite cliffs, and waterfalls. We three even dipped our tootsies into the cold, cold Pemiwagasset River BRRRR!
We got totally lost in the Great Vermont Corn Maze, drove through a covered bridge, took a zillion pictures of leaves, drove a National Scenic Byway, visited a maple sugar house, bought jewelry, and went to a craft show. We picked apples out of an orchard - both for ourselves and for the food bank. We bought fresh pressed apple cider and ate lobster. We went to a county fair and admired the animals and vegetables, rode the ferris wheel and the carousel (yes, we three like merry go rounds). We ate some corn dog 'seconds'. - State Fair Corndogs don't need to sweat the New Hampshire version of that fair delicacy. We visited a Science Center which exhibited regional animals (those injured or orphaned that can't make it in the wild) to enjoy the woods and learn about the environment and the animals' habitats. We visited the Frost House - summer home of Robert Frost and enjoyed reading several of his poems over the course of a nature walk on the property. On the way back to the plane, we visited the state capitol building of New Hampshire. Doris spearheaded a challenging puzzle in the evenings while we all watched the Rangers play baseball.
I have the pictures to prove that we let no grass grow under our feet. I hope you enjoy looking at them as much as we enjoyed the activities they represent.
https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011TouringWithDorisAndPaulaNewHampshire?authkey=Gv1sRgCMXNjdPhxZWW8wE#
We prepared carefully for the visit. Our 'chalet' has wonderful windows, some comfortable furniture, our 40" flat screen (sitting next to a 30" picture tube Sony - belonging to the house), a sturdy large wooden table and chairs. The kitchen has nice appliances, but you can stand in the center of it and touch EVERY wall. In other words, it's hard for more than one person to be in it. I knew food preparation would be hard, so I planned our meals carefully. Drake and I were both a little anxious - OK, I was anxious - because as whacko as the kitchen is here, the bedrooms are just plain squirrelly.
First, there are three bedrooms, but only one closet. One bedroom is so small and impacted by the staircase, the bunk bed in the room is such a squeeze you have to crawl on your hands and knees to open the window. There's no possibility of a closet in this room because of the oil burner in the room. The second bedroom has no closet, but it does have a queen size bed AND a bunk bed set. It's such a tiny, tiny room for that much furniture. We also have a sleeper sofa in the only common area of the house. I was anxious that our friends would be gracious about the bed situation while they were here, but on the plane would be dissing us BAD.
We got totally lost in the Great Vermont Corn Maze, drove through a covered bridge, took a zillion pictures of leaves, drove a National Scenic Byway, visited a maple sugar house, bought jewelry, and went to a craft show. We picked apples out of an orchard - both for ourselves and for the food bank. We bought fresh pressed apple cider and ate lobster. We went to a county fair and admired the animals and vegetables, rode the ferris wheel and the carousel (yes, we three like merry go rounds). We ate some corn dog 'seconds'. - State Fair Corndogs don't need to sweat the New Hampshire version of that fair delicacy. We visited a Science Center which exhibited regional animals (those injured or orphaned that can't make it in the wild) to enjoy the woods and learn about the environment and the animals' habitats. We visited the Frost House - summer home of Robert Frost and enjoyed reading several of his poems over the course of a nature walk on the property. On the way back to the plane, we visited the state capitol building of New Hampshire. Doris spearheaded a challenging puzzle in the evenings while we all watched the Rangers play baseball.
I have the pictures to prove that we let no grass grow under our feet. I hope you enjoy looking at them as much as we enjoyed the activities they represent.
https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011TouringWithDorisAndPaulaNewHampshire?authkey=Gv1sRgCMXNjdPhxZWW8wE#
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Birthday Blues
When I was 25, I looked around my family and realized I had three living grandparents. I did some arithmetic and it dawned on me that based on my genetics, I was going to live a very long time barring the stupidity accidents of youth or the fickle finger of fate. I resolved that year that I would never ever let 'getting old' bother me. An easy resolution when one is 25 and can barely imagine what old age really means. At 30 I felt like I had just barely hit my stride and I mostly remember my late 20's and early 30's as being the time our travel mania really started - we spent a 30 day vacation in Europe the year I was 30. When I was 35, I didn't have time to worry about getting older - I was the mother of a new baby - literally: I turned 35 on the 25th of September and Sarah Lynn was born at noon on the 26th.
That pretty much took care of birthdays for the next 20 years. Our individual birthdays evolved into Birthday Week (me, Sarah and Drake all have our birthdays in the same week - Drake's birthday is the 29th). That was always fun, and the focus was always on Sarah's birthday rather than ours. Birthdays were fun filled family and friend times, and they involved a lot of cake. I didn't have the time or energy to be concerned that life was winging by.
My 50's were the proverbial best of times and worst of times. That's the only way to put it. That's when chronic pain started. My closest friend died. My mother and brother died, my father lost his mind, and became a shell. They were also good. Sarah did high school just like a female clone of Wally Cleaver. She enjoyed all of it, and she achieved to her potential. We got to participate in her extra-curricular activities and knew to savor them since she would be leaving home soon. I didn't really have 'empty nest' problems since she was the blip in our lives rather than the total focus. We had spent so much time together as a childless couple (15 years) before she arrived, it was pretty easy to slip back into that mode. We got her launched into the world, and we congratulated ourselves on a job well done.
Now that my 60's have arrived - I'm 61 this year, and have been since January. (FYI: Since I was born in 1950, it's always been easier to just change my age on January 1st rather than wait until the end of September. That way, I always know how old I am. I know, I know, - bizarre - but it's always worked for me.) I'm struggling coming to grips with a life that is more than half over. I can't be having a mid-life crisis, since I'm way past that age. What I'm having is a sense of sadness. I have been thinking about these feelings quite a bit over the past year. The rational part of my mind is saying: You're being ridiculous! No one can predict what the future will hold - Lord knows that I've learned that over the past five years. Stop this pity party: You have a wonderful life, and your concentration should be focused on enjoying each lovely day. I do believe these things, but there's still an underlying sadness that I haven't been able to shake off.
Here's why I've been feeling sad: The upcoming milestones of a 60+ life are not ones I want to experience. Losing my husband? Watching friends die? Declining health? Losing my marbles? None of those seem like experiences that I'm jumping up and down to encounter.
Instinctively I know this is not a good mental place to be. I guess it's time to follow my tried and true prescription for getting myself into a good place. It's such a struggle to change your mentality. What is it about human nature that tends to focus on hand wringing? I've spent way too much time in the past months focusing on the what if, how will I cope, what will I do.
It's time to grit my teeth and refocus: Here is my list of blessings that have been rained down upon me: 1) I have a husband who loves me without bounds and makes me feel like I'm still the bee's knees. 2) I have a daughter who admires me and loves me almost more than she can tell me. 3) I have more friends than I can count, and I'm still making new ones. 4) I have intense friendships with many people of all different ages and backgrounds that enrich my life immeasurably each day. 5) I'm living a long held personal dream. 6) I've become an artist and writer (apparently) allowing me to use my creative energy. 7) I can walk. 8) I'm still learning new things. 9) I'm surrounded by the kind of beauty only God can create. There are, of course, many more, but I wanted to hit the high points and not focus on minutiae.
As I look over this list, I've realized the obvious - something so easy to forget - each day of my life holds possibilities, and yes, some of the possibilities will be ones I'd rather not have, but so, so many more of life's possibilities are chances to be faithful, be loving, be generous, be helpful, be compassionate, be clever, be interesting and to laugh. I think that's the life I'm going to focus on - and age doesn't have anything to do with those possibilities, only attitude.
So, I've managed to cheer myself up. It will last a while, but it's going to take that grit to turn my heart away from the sad milestones ahead of me. OK, I'm done. I'm going to print out my list and post it where I can read it until I get this sadness business chased away.
I've received lots and lots of birthday wishes today, and I do appreciate the thoughts. My friends will be somewhat alarmed upon reading this since I'm most often that 'glass is not only half full, but usually brimming over with something great' kind of a woman. Maybe facing these not so positive feelings will make me appreciate my usual optimism. Smiles, hugs and squeezes to everyone who has thought of me today.
You know I'm feeling better when I can post this picture celebrating a strawberry snowcone!
That pretty much took care of birthdays for the next 20 years. Our individual birthdays evolved into Birthday Week (me, Sarah and Drake all have our birthdays in the same week - Drake's birthday is the 29th). That was always fun, and the focus was always on Sarah's birthday rather than ours. Birthdays were fun filled family and friend times, and they involved a lot of cake. I didn't have the time or energy to be concerned that life was winging by.
My 50's were the proverbial best of times and worst of times. That's the only way to put it. That's when chronic pain started. My closest friend died. My mother and brother died, my father lost his mind, and became a shell. They were also good. Sarah did high school just like a female clone of Wally Cleaver. She enjoyed all of it, and she achieved to her potential. We got to participate in her extra-curricular activities and knew to savor them since she would be leaving home soon. I didn't really have 'empty nest' problems since she was the blip in our lives rather than the total focus. We had spent so much time together as a childless couple (15 years) before she arrived, it was pretty easy to slip back into that mode. We got her launched into the world, and we congratulated ourselves on a job well done.
Now that my 60's have arrived - I'm 61 this year, and have been since January. (FYI: Since I was born in 1950, it's always been easier to just change my age on January 1st rather than wait until the end of September. That way, I always know how old I am. I know, I know, - bizarre - but it's always worked for me.) I'm struggling coming to grips with a life that is more than half over. I can't be having a mid-life crisis, since I'm way past that age. What I'm having is a sense of sadness. I have been thinking about these feelings quite a bit over the past year. The rational part of my mind is saying: You're being ridiculous! No one can predict what the future will hold - Lord knows that I've learned that over the past five years. Stop this pity party: You have a wonderful life, and your concentration should be focused on enjoying each lovely day. I do believe these things, but there's still an underlying sadness that I haven't been able to shake off.
Here's why I've been feeling sad: The upcoming milestones of a 60+ life are not ones I want to experience. Losing my husband? Watching friends die? Declining health? Losing my marbles? None of those seem like experiences that I'm jumping up and down to encounter.
Instinctively I know this is not a good mental place to be. I guess it's time to follow my tried and true prescription for getting myself into a good place. It's such a struggle to change your mentality. What is it about human nature that tends to focus on hand wringing? I've spent way too much time in the past months focusing on the what if, how will I cope, what will I do.
It's time to grit my teeth and refocus: Here is my list of blessings that have been rained down upon me: 1) I have a husband who loves me without bounds and makes me feel like I'm still the bee's knees. 2) I have a daughter who admires me and loves me almost more than she can tell me. 3) I have more friends than I can count, and I'm still making new ones. 4) I have intense friendships with many people of all different ages and backgrounds that enrich my life immeasurably each day. 5) I'm living a long held personal dream. 6) I've become an artist and writer (apparently) allowing me to use my creative energy. 7) I can walk. 8) I'm still learning new things. 9) I'm surrounded by the kind of beauty only God can create. There are, of course, many more, but I wanted to hit the high points and not focus on minutiae.
As I look over this list, I've realized the obvious - something so easy to forget - each day of my life holds possibilities, and yes, some of the possibilities will be ones I'd rather not have, but so, so many more of life's possibilities are chances to be faithful, be loving, be generous, be helpful, be compassionate, be clever, be interesting and to laugh. I think that's the life I'm going to focus on - and age doesn't have anything to do with those possibilities, only attitude.
So, I've managed to cheer myself up. It will last a while, but it's going to take that grit to turn my heart away from the sad milestones ahead of me. OK, I'm done. I'm going to print out my list and post it where I can read it until I get this sadness business chased away.
You know I'm feeling better when I can post this picture celebrating a strawberry snowcone!
Friday, September 23, 2011
Northern New Hampshire Fall Foliage
Yesterday we went on a hike along the Pemiwagasset River, and today we went on a scenic drive to northern New Hampshire. The pictures are of the incredible fall foliage, and we have it on the authority of two natives we ran into today that this isn't even 'peak'. We had lunch on top of a mountain today with a firetower on top of it. We walked up 5 flights of stairs, and we got a birdseye view of the White Mountains. The pictures are so amazing. We just drove along a few rural roads, and almost every mile was a panorama of color. As Drake said today, "It's like looking at fireworks!" I've seen trees in colors that are so bright and vivid that they look fake.
I didn't expect the peace and rural nature of the White Mountains to affect me so strongly. II've always takedn some pride in being the original 'concrete queen'. It's so hilarious that in some ways, I've enjoyed this visit more than I did New York. There's a peace and contentment up here that is difficult to convey in words. The first thing I do every morning is 'check the mountains' Some days it's clouds and rain. Other days brilliant sunshine, or like today, fog in the valley, and clear above. It's a wonderful way to start the day. I look forward to the sunset each day knowing that it isn't the result of pollution (like it was in Arizona). Ironically, we haven't made any friends here - I don't know why. Well, actually, I do. I've been feeling secluded here, and distant. I haven't wanted to make any connections. However, I guess I can't keep my true nature down. I have been making friends with two ladies - I'm helping them learn to use their new laptops. I won't embarrass them by telling their ages, but let's just say that they are 'mature'. I got two jars of jam in payment - blackberry and raspberry from berries they picked themselves - braving the bears.
We came here for the fall foliage, and so far, it hasn't disappointed. You be the judge:
https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011NewHampshireAutumn?authkey=Gv1sRgCNPh3qbp4bqgowE#
I didn't expect the peace and rural nature of the White Mountains to affect me so strongly. II've always takedn some pride in being the original 'concrete queen'. It's so hilarious that in some ways, I've enjoyed this visit more than I did New York. There's a peace and contentment up here that is difficult to convey in words. The first thing I do every morning is 'check the mountains' Some days it's clouds and rain. Other days brilliant sunshine, or like today, fog in the valley, and clear above. It's a wonderful way to start the day. I look forward to the sunset each day knowing that it isn't the result of pollution (like it was in Arizona). Ironically, we haven't made any friends here - I don't know why. Well, actually, I do. I've been feeling secluded here, and distant. I haven't wanted to make any connections. However, I guess I can't keep my true nature down. I have been making friends with two ladies - I'm helping them learn to use their new laptops. I won't embarrass them by telling their ages, but let's just say that they are 'mature'. I got two jars of jam in payment - blackberry and raspberry from berries they picked themselves - braving the bears.
We came here for the fall foliage, and so far, it hasn't disappointed. You be the judge:
https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011NewHampshireAutumn?authkey=Gv1sRgCNPh3qbp4bqgowE#
Sunday, September 11, 2011
The City of Montreal
We returned this week from a three day trip to the city of Montreal in Quebec, Canada. Montreal is only 150 miles from Franconia, so it seemed like the ideal time to see the city. Ironically, this is the first foreign city I ever visited. When I was 17, Mr. and Mrs. Pendley, the adult leaders of my MYF (Methodist Youth Fellowship for you heathens), took about 40 teenagers from Tulsa, Oklahoma to see World Exposition 1967 in Montreal, Canada - better known as Expo '67. Mrs. Pendley, who actually had a full time job - almost unheard of in that era, was the organizing genius behind this trip and managed to get this trip off the ground in a time prior to computers and cell phones. Off the ground is a little misleading: I took the longest bus ride of my life to get from Tulsa to Montreal. We had a pretty tight budget since we all came from families that were middle class at best. For instance, my Dad was an electrician, and there wasn't any discretionary money in our household for travel. In addition to doing the actual nuts and bolts of getting 40 teenagers and 10 chaperons from point A (Tulsa) to point B (Montreal), the Pendleys mounted what had to have been a year of weekends filled with fund raising so we could all afford to make the trip. It was so worth it. New York City and Washington D.C. the previous year (same MYF group) followed by Montreal, Canada just before the start of my senior year in high school made me understand there was a much wider world out there than could be found in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
Thirty seven years later, Montreal echoed with deju vu' for me. Montreal is a port city on the St. Lawrence River which empties out into the Atlantic. There are a pair of islands in the center of the river one of which was the site of Expo '67. (The island, incidentally, was built up from all the dirt and rock dug out to build the subway system in Montreal.) Countries from all over the world built pavilions to display their cultures and present their expositions. It was amazing and exciting. In those simpler times, we were just turned loose on the Exposition grounds and given check times and points. Then we were off again. High points for me: The monorail that circled the exposition. My first viewing of 'real art' - I saw The Pieta by Michelangelo - it was in the Italian pavilion. Exposure to different styles of architecture - I especially remember the Asian pavilions with their distinctive architectures. And, of course, the United States pavilion which was a clear geodesic dome!
Today, what's left is Habitat '67 - a series of interlocking concrete blocks which was supposed to be the housing of the future - now a condominium development, the French pavilion which is Casino Montreal, and off in the distance, we saw the clear geodesic dome of the USA pavilion. I never did find out what it's used for today.
Montreal was deja vu' in more ways than my sketchy memory of 37 years ago. It was New Orleans revisited. I think if New Orleans had retained its French language, it would be a dead ringer for Montreal. Oh, with the exception that Montreal is about 3000% cleaner than New Orleans. There's the similar French historical component, a similar founding time-line (late 1600's), a port economy, and a takeover of the city by English speaking entrepreneurs. The BIG difference is that the French language made a comeback in Montreal while it died out in New Orleans.
The language element has stamped a character on Montreal that is both charming and infuriating. Quebec is an island of French in a sea of English. Since the 1960's Quebecians have been militant about maintaining the French language inside the province. This is not a dual language city. ALL signs for EVERYTHING are in French, and if you're lucky, with tiny, little English translations underneath the French. An example of infuriating: We couldn't figure out how to buy a 3 day metro card (which you can only get from a machine) because there was no English option until you got to the third step of a four step process. Thank heaven there was a metro employee sitting on a stool next to the machine helping tourists like us. It kind of defeats the purpose of the machine, but we were grateful for his help. Also infuriating, was the tour guide on the bus tour we took: Her English was limited at best, and it really affected her ability to tell us about the city - the reason we went on the tour. We were grateful for the metro because we didn't have to drive anywhere. There was no English translation on any road sign which made driving a little too adventurous in a strange city.
Montreal is a city of churches - both Protestant and Catholic. I got the feeling that in the 18th and 19th centuries each faith put up as many elaborate churches as they could possibly build trying to 'one-up' the other culture. These magnificent churches stick up over the landscape of the city. The Basilica of Notre Dame built in the 1820's is exquisite and today is considered the number one attraction in the city. I would definitely agree. It only took eight years to build it, and the exterior is a miniature Notre Dame in gray limestone. The interior is made entirely of carved and decorated wood. They present the church in a great way: there is an evening multi-media presentation using lights and film to explain the architecture and the founding of Montreal as it relates to this Catholic Church. This is still a working church. There are lots of these churches, convents, and monasteries that are no longer functioning religious buildings and have been converted to private residences. The other 'big' church is called The Oratory, dedicated to St. Joseph. It has 192 steps leading up to it which the faithful on feast days sometimes climb on their knees. This was an impressive building.
Just as in New Orleans, there is an 'old city' (the "Vieux Carre" in New Orleans, called the "Vieux Montreal" up here.) There's a little 18th century French architecture left, and lots of 19th century Victorian architecture. The 'old city' is entirely made of gray limestone - a legal requirement in the 1800's for fire protection. This was the commercial heart of the city, and a destructive fire so common in the era of oil lamps and open fire places would have been much too costly. The Vieux Montreal buildings are uniformly cut limestone blocks cheek to jowl to no open spaces at all between buildings. The older French buildings are mortared rough limestone brick with small multi-paned windows set into the stone. I think I would have enjoyed the old city part of Montreal more is I hadn't lived in New Orleans for almost eight years. This area just seemed like a cleaner French Quarter.
What I did really enjoy was the Botanical Garden. That was the best part of the trip for me. This Garden easily compared with the famous Butchart Gardens in western Canada. While the Butchart is compact, the Montreal Gardens were huge. We didn't even manage to get through the half dozen greenhouses or walk any of the pathways that wind among the lawns and trees on the back half of the Gardens. I think the picture from the top of the Observation Tower which is a portion of the Olympic Parc shows how large the botanical gardens are:
All the open green space to the left of the stadium is HALF of the botanical garden. You can see why we couldn't see everything at the garden.
We purposely decided not to take in the Fine Arts Museum or the Contemporary Art Museum. Drake was lukewarm at best, and we had limited time. We both felt that these museums would have been a pale copy of the New York City museums. How do you top the Metropolitan or the MOMA? The museum we did visit was completely unique. The Archeology Museum was built over an actual archeological dig down into the old city of Montreal all the way down to 1350. This land was originally the site of a major Iroquis settlement. When the French arrived in the mid 1600s, the Iroquois were swifty displaced. No wonder the Iroquois fought on the English side in the French and Indian Wars of the mid 18th century.
This place was fascinating. I had never actually been to an archeology dig before. You descend into the basement, and we walked around the dig site where they used colored lights to highlight various 'finds' and identifed the lighted areas with color coordinated signs. Most interesting: Walking down Rue St. Paul to get to the museum and realizing after looking in at the models that this street's origin was the original Iroquis path along the river. I was also thrilled to see an actual cobblestone street laid down in the 18th century from ballast stones used in the ships that docked at the Montreal port. It was actually covered over by later building as was an entire river that was used as a sewage dump in the 18th century. Appropriately, this 'river', originally a small river flowing into the St. Lawrence is called the Lost River. This was a very good museum and gave me a real sense of the history of Montreal.
An added bonus was a short term exhibition about how wine making came to France. (The short version: Roman soldiers leaving the Roman Army in the 1st century were encouraged to take up land right where they were invalided out, marry local girls and cement the Roman Empire. Those Roman boys who settled in Gaul figured out a good way to make a living was to grow grapes and make wine just like back home in Italy. It wasn't long before they were dominating the wine trade.)
We had a couple of lovely French meals; not quite as many as we had hoped, but anything is better than cooking in my book, and we spent one evening in a jazz club. Another big impression of Montreal is how 'young' it is. There are at least three major universities inside the city, and the main part of Montreal just teems with young people in the 20 - 30 age group. There's shopping out the wazoo. In fact, I think the 'hip' shopping was probably on par with New York City. We went lots of places where we were easily the oldest people in sight. Our subway stop outside our hotel was the metro entry point to Sherbrooke University, so every time we rode the subway back to our hotel, we we were surrounded by hordes of college students.
The hotel we chose was great. It was very comfortable and it was literally across the street from the metro station. The more subways I ride, the more I'm envious of the cities that took the plunge and built them. The hotel was 'across the river', and we saved about $100 a night plus parking which was free at this hotel. It took us less than 15 minutes to reach the heart of Montreal, and we didn't have to drive into town. With the confusing French highway system that was a real benefit. Overall, I'm glad I went to Montreal, but after New York, it seemed to be such a small city. We didn't find nearly enough 'stuff' we wanted to do. It wasn't a matter of picking and choosing and having to forego, but rather choosing the few things we thought would be worth our time.
Here are the rest of the pictures:
https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011MontrealTouringTheCity?authkey=Gv1sRgCNqM-JSA85TqwQE#
https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011MontrrealVieuxMontreal?authkey=Gv1sRgCIXUwu31w4H_Ew#
Thirty seven years later, Montreal echoed with deju vu' for me. Montreal is a port city on the St. Lawrence River which empties out into the Atlantic. There are a pair of islands in the center of the river one of which was the site of Expo '67. (The island, incidentally, was built up from all the dirt and rock dug out to build the subway system in Montreal.) Countries from all over the world built pavilions to display their cultures and present their expositions. It was amazing and exciting. In those simpler times, we were just turned loose on the Exposition grounds and given check times and points. Then we were off again. High points for me: The monorail that circled the exposition. My first viewing of 'real art' - I saw The Pieta by Michelangelo - it was in the Italian pavilion. Exposure to different styles of architecture - I especially remember the Asian pavilions with their distinctive architectures. And, of course, the United States pavilion which was a clear geodesic dome!
Montreal was deja vu' in more ways than my sketchy memory of 37 years ago. It was New Orleans revisited. I think if New Orleans had retained its French language, it would be a dead ringer for Montreal. Oh, with the exception that Montreal is about 3000% cleaner than New Orleans. There's the similar French historical component, a similar founding time-line (late 1600's), a port economy, and a takeover of the city by English speaking entrepreneurs. The BIG difference is that the French language made a comeback in Montreal while it died out in New Orleans.
The language element has stamped a character on Montreal that is both charming and infuriating. Quebec is an island of French in a sea of English. Since the 1960's Quebecians have been militant about maintaining the French language inside the province. This is not a dual language city. ALL signs for EVERYTHING are in French, and if you're lucky, with tiny, little English translations underneath the French. An example of infuriating: We couldn't figure out how to buy a 3 day metro card (which you can only get from a machine) because there was no English option until you got to the third step of a four step process. Thank heaven there was a metro employee sitting on a stool next to the machine helping tourists like us. It kind of defeats the purpose of the machine, but we were grateful for his help. Also infuriating, was the tour guide on the bus tour we took: Her English was limited at best, and it really affected her ability to tell us about the city - the reason we went on the tour. We were grateful for the metro because we didn't have to drive anywhere. There was no English translation on any road sign which made driving a little too adventurous in a strange city.
Montreal is a city of churches - both Protestant and Catholic. I got the feeling that in the 18th and 19th centuries each faith put up as many elaborate churches as they could possibly build trying to 'one-up' the other culture. These magnificent churches stick up over the landscape of the city. The Basilica of Notre Dame built in the 1820's is exquisite and today is considered the number one attraction in the city. I would definitely agree. It only took eight years to build it, and the exterior is a miniature Notre Dame in gray limestone. The interior is made entirely of carved and decorated wood. They present the church in a great way: there is an evening multi-media presentation using lights and film to explain the architecture and the founding of Montreal as it relates to this Catholic Church. This is still a working church. There are lots of these churches, convents, and monasteries that are no longer functioning religious buildings and have been converted to private residences. The other 'big' church is called The Oratory, dedicated to St. Joseph. It has 192 steps leading up to it which the faithful on feast days sometimes climb on their knees. This was an impressive building.
Just as in New Orleans, there is an 'old city' (the "Vieux Carre" in New Orleans, called the "Vieux Montreal" up here.) There's a little 18th century French architecture left, and lots of 19th century Victorian architecture. The 'old city' is entirely made of gray limestone - a legal requirement in the 1800's for fire protection. This was the commercial heart of the city, and a destructive fire so common in the era of oil lamps and open fire places would have been much too costly. The Vieux Montreal buildings are uniformly cut limestone blocks cheek to jowl to no open spaces at all between buildings. The older French buildings are mortared rough limestone brick with small multi-paned windows set into the stone. I think I would have enjoyed the old city part of Montreal more is I hadn't lived in New Orleans for almost eight years. This area just seemed like a cleaner French Quarter. What I did really enjoy was the Botanical Garden. That was the best part of the trip for me. This Garden easily compared with the famous Butchart Gardens in western Canada. While the Butchart is compact, the Montreal Gardens were huge. We didn't even manage to get through the half dozen greenhouses or walk any of the pathways that wind among the lawns and trees on the back half of the Gardens. I think the picture from the top of the Observation Tower which is a portion of the Olympic Parc shows how large the botanical gardens are:
We purposely decided not to take in the Fine Arts Museum or the Contemporary Art Museum. Drake was lukewarm at best, and we had limited time. We both felt that these museums would have been a pale copy of the New York City museums. How do you top the Metropolitan or the MOMA? The museum we did visit was completely unique. The Archeology Museum was built over an actual archeological dig down into the old city of Montreal all the way down to 1350. This land was originally the site of a major Iroquis settlement. When the French arrived in the mid 1600s, the Iroquois were swifty displaced. No wonder the Iroquois fought on the English side in the French and Indian Wars of the mid 18th century.
This place was fascinating. I had never actually been to an archeology dig before. You descend into the basement, and we walked around the dig site where they used colored lights to highlight various 'finds' and identifed the lighted areas with color coordinated signs. Most interesting: Walking down Rue St. Paul to get to the museum and realizing after looking in at the models that this street's origin was the original Iroquis path along the river. I was also thrilled to see an actual cobblestone street laid down in the 18th century from ballast stones used in the ships that docked at the Montreal port. It was actually covered over by later building as was an entire river that was used as a sewage dump in the 18th century. Appropriately, this 'river', originally a small river flowing into the St. Lawrence is called the Lost River. This was a very good museum and gave me a real sense of the history of Montreal.
An added bonus was a short term exhibition about how wine making came to France. (The short version: Roman soldiers leaving the Roman Army in the 1st century were encouraged to take up land right where they were invalided out, marry local girls and cement the Roman Empire. Those Roman boys who settled in Gaul figured out a good way to make a living was to grow grapes and make wine just like back home in Italy. It wasn't long before they were dominating the wine trade.)
We had a couple of lovely French meals; not quite as many as we had hoped, but anything is better than cooking in my book, and we spent one evening in a jazz club. Another big impression of Montreal is how 'young' it is. There are at least three major universities inside the city, and the main part of Montreal just teems with young people in the 20 - 30 age group. There's shopping out the wazoo. In fact, I think the 'hip' shopping was probably on par with New York City. We went lots of places where we were easily the oldest people in sight. Our subway stop outside our hotel was the metro entry point to Sherbrooke University, so every time we rode the subway back to our hotel, we we were surrounded by hordes of college students.
The hotel we chose was great. It was very comfortable and it was literally across the street from the metro station. The more subways I ride, the more I'm envious of the cities that took the plunge and built them. The hotel was 'across the river', and we saved about $100 a night plus parking which was free at this hotel. It took us less than 15 minutes to reach the heart of Montreal, and we didn't have to drive into town. With the confusing French highway system that was a real benefit. Overall, I'm glad I went to Montreal, but after New York, it seemed to be such a small city. We didn't find nearly enough 'stuff' we wanted to do. It wasn't a matter of picking and choosing and having to forego, but rather choosing the few things we thought would be worth our time.
Here are the rest of the pictures:
https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011MontrealTouringTheCity?authkey=Gv1sRgCNqM-JSA85TqwQE#
https://picasaweb.google.com/jalyss1/2011MontrrealVieuxMontreal?authkey=Gv1sRgCIXUwu31w4H_Ew#
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