Life on a Winding Road

I Won the "2010 Erica Award"!

2011-01-29T15:53:00.009-05:00

My acceptance speech is below. Completely unedited and uncut (because I don't know how) and unfortunately, unscripted!

My speech is garbled because it was a BELOW ZERO wind chill, not because I'd been swilling! Oh yeah, turn up your volume, the wind was drowning out my speech.

Graziella Dutreuille, a Child of Haiti

2010-01-22T19:53:00.004-05:00

In the early 90's many Haitian children found themselves in tent cities on Guatanamo Bay without their parents. Many of these kids eventually found their way to relatives within the United States, and some just managed to get the United States, one of these children was Graziella Dutreuille.

I came to know her through Nortel Networks' affiliation with the local high schools, providing part-time employment to students, having hired her for my own department. Sadly, I witnessed first hand the affects of bigotry based solely on one's perceived lack of proficiency with the English language. Initially from a manager who came from the mid-west, who himself was adopted at an early age. Lastly, from a manager whose own family escaped to the United States when the Shah of Iran was run out of the country.

Graziella, a very wise, intelligent, talented individual who had to fight for survival even at Nortel, a company rife with multiple nationalities. A young lady so determined to make her way in the United States, that she lied about her age for the sole purpose of getting a high school diploma from the US, with dreams of obtaining a college diploma in International Relations.

I was taken aback when I learned that she was considerably older than the age she went by and perceived to be. However, as she confessed to me, she knew that those under the age of 18 had the greatest chances of surviving in the United States. She never asked for hand outs, only assistance. I need a bed, I need a small refrigerator, does anyone have an old sofa they want to get rid of. Who hasn't heard this from any college aged-student?

From my internet searches I believe Graziella is in still in the Dallas metroplex, however, I know the majority of her family remained behind in Haiti, a habitually poverty stricken nation, but I'm saddened that I'm not finding actual links that lead me to think that she has succeeded to the degree that she had hoped. So with that, I'm sharing an essay she gave me written on a typewriter on Feb. 14, 1999.

I hope you all take a moment to reflect upon her experience.
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"The mind is its own self can make a heaven of hell and a hell of heaven".

This quote is a good example that states that life is what one makes of it. We can feed our thoughts into believing life is a wonderful place-heaven or a dreadful depressing Place-hell. My attitude of life reflects just this. At the age of 14, I left my country (Haiti) in a boat to come to America. However, my journey was not easy as I spent eight months in a military camp at Guatanamo Bay Cuba; it was my vision of hell, but my mind empowered me to believe there was a heaven on earth and this hope made the future a journey to success.

I for example, am a very strong young woman who is ambitious and will strive to make things in life happen for me. We face many obstacles on the way which discourage us but to visualize the light at the end of the tunnel and to make our time on earth a beautiful existence, we can try to create our own heaven on earth.

My dream of heaven did come true. America was everything I dreamed it to be, but one things was a problem. I did not speak the language. I had to learn a new language, which was very difficult for me. Some people thought I was stupid; few seemed to pay attention to me. I lived a life having no family here to count on and hoped that it would soon be over. I tried hard to get through life by doing the best. Each day of my life I dreamt of living without loneliness. Sometimes things happen in life and there is nothing you can do to change it, you have to stand up and make it better for yourself. It can be hell but remember to turn it into heaven!

I lost most of everything that a person could possibly dream of in life but it did not kill me and I do not feel sorry for what has happened. This makes the mind and soul stronger. I take the rest of what I have left and I try harder. I dream of becoming somebody and that's one of the reasons I left my country. At this time America was the only solution to my dream.

In order to find the way to success and create my own heaven, I have to know where I stand and where I want to be, this makes me see clearly and I stay positive about life. In school I began to dream, to dream like an American, after all, I am living with the American dream. It is hard to hope for something when you do not see a way of getting it but you have to have faith and pride that it will happen.

Heaven to me is happiness and contentment. I aspire to have the opportunity to attend college, have a good job, and create a happy home and family. I know I will be in "heaven" soon here on earth and it is because I train my mind to make that choice.

Written by Graziella Dutreuille
2/14/99
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There are many ways, we as Americans can help, but first and foremost, is to not judge others by appearance or speech. Instead, take only a moment to get to know even the slightest bit about the the person in our midst. You never know, it may be another child that has came to our country without any benefit of family to catch them when they may fall.

Peeping Tom!

2009-10-10T07:55:00.011-05:00

Here I was minding my own business, trying to get the yard mowed before dark. I had a small window of opportunity as the previous days had either been rainy or blustery. Before I began, I happened to grab my camera hoping to catch pictures of the foliage in the woods that back up to our yard. Suddenly I heard neighbors hollering at me and I turned around to find this hot air balloon lightly crashing through the tops of the trees.

Below are a two videos of the event. Click the arrow to play.

The Eagle has landed!
All the neighbors came spilling into our yard. The video below is of our neighbor Diane. She's a remarkable woman, recently diagnosed with MS. You'll rarely meet a more positive person!

The balloon basket was filled with 7 people standing shoulder to shoulder when it landed. Overall it was a big adventure indeed. Unfortunately Roger was on his way home and missed most of it. He did get home in time to watch them pack up, which is no easy feat.

You can see on the far right that I've resumed the initial task at hand as the sun has already set.

Loren Davis (July 21, 1923 - July 26, 2009)

2009-07-27T12:16:00.008-05:00

This past weekend our family lost a very special person. Roger's Uncle Loren passed away at the age of 86. Roger had a huge love and respect for Uncle Loren and was anxious for me to meet him have him teach me to water ski. I did meet him and I almost learned to water ski.

From the first time I met him, he seemed to always have a gleam and sparkle in his eyes, especially when telling stores. Aside from a love of story-telling, it was so apparent how much it meant for him to be around his family, whether it was his brothers' families, his own kids or his grandkids.

I feel so fortunate to have spent even limited time with him and know that we'll all miss him dearly!

Below is Uncle Loren's obituary, written by his son, Charles. I hope you take the time to read it to see what a remarkable individual we've lost.
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"Loren Everett Davis, formerly of Ozark, died on 26-July-2009 at 0700 hours at the Wildflower Retirement Center in Russellville, Arkansas, following a valiant battle with cancer. As he often liked to say, Loren lived several ‘different lives’ in his 86 years. The first one was that of rural farm boy, growing up during the depression in northwest Arkansas. Born 21-July-1923, in Batson, Arkansas, Loren was the second of the three sons of Mikel and Evangeline Wann Davis. He labored on the family farm outside the community of Oak Grove while attending a one-room mountain school house until he entered high school. He continued his education, employed part-time for room and board by an Ozark blacksmith, graduating from Ozark High School in 1940. He furthered his studies at Quachita Baptist College in Arkadelphia, paying his way while there working on the college farm. At Quachita, Loren met his wife of 54 years, Emma Louise Weeks. They married, left school, and moved to Wichita, Kansas, to work in the manufacturing of military aircraft and to attend the University of Wichita part-time. World War II was raging, and it was not long before Loren’s college ROTC unit was called to active duty.

His ‘second life’ was therefore a military one. After successfully completing Officers Candidate School, he found himself with General George Patton’s 3rd Army, first rushing to liberate the Americans surrounded by German forces at Bastogne, Belgium, and then proceeding into and across Germany and into Austria where he was decorated for valor and received the Purple Heart a few days before the end of the war.

After World War II ended, and while recovering from his wounds, Loren decided to pursue a military career as a ‘regular army’ officer, focusing upon civil affairs and civic action. By 1950, he was again in harm’s way with the 2nd Infantry Division at the Chongchon River in far northern Korea when the Chinese first intervened against UN forces, there-by launching a surprise attack with the 2nd Division taking the brunt. Among the few survivors of that onslaught, Loren led his unit to Inchon and was rescued by a US Navy ship there. In later years, when he recalled those events, he always referred to the Navy in exactly the same way, “the-Navy-God-Bless-them” as if that were one word, underscoring his gratitude for their role in his unit’s survival.

Loren was then assigned to Cheju-do as military governor for the Korean island. Cheju-do was a key supply base for US forces in Korea and, coincidentally, a center for Korean orphans. The orphanages there housed over 1600 children. Loren worked diligently to keep the orphanages supplied and protected during his time on Cheju-do.

After Korea, he was stationed in Oklahoma and Texas, and San Juan, Puerto Rico. In the mid-1950’s Loren was an active competitive rifleman and participated in the annual US Army National Matches in Camp Perry, Ohio, culminating in his being selected to the All Army Team in 1955. While in Oklahoma, Loren participated in ‘operation bootstrap,’ a program that made it possible to complete his college bachelor’s degree in military science at Oklahoma State University. Then, in the early 1960’s, he shipped out again to a war zone, this time in Southeast Asia. Based in Vientiane, Laos, he was engaged in civil affairs and psychological warfare aimed at convincing Laotians to side with the American-backed Royal Lao Forces rather that the communist-backed Pathet Lao, which was aligned with the Viet Cong. Having learned to speak Laotian, he visited villages all over the country travelling mostly by small plane with CIA pilots, helping villagers, and promoting the American viewpoint. Each of these was a dangerous mission, but he was very effective.

After Laos, Loren was an instructor at the Army’s Civil Affairs School in Augusta, Georgia, and conducted seminars at West Point. Completing 23 years in the military, Loren retired at the rank of Lt. Colonel. Today, there is a plaque honoring Col. Loren Davis in the Infantry Hall of Fame in Fort Benning, Georgia. This honor recognizes his being one of only sixteen World War II veterans to accumulate three Combat Infantry Badges, signifying his engagement in combat action in three different wars.

Following his military career, Loren began his ‘third life’ by first completing a doctorate at Oklahoma State University. In 1969, he joined the professorate at Texas A&M University – Kingsville. Dr. Davis became a full Professor of Psychology, a productive psychological researcher, and a beloved teacher of countless students – both graduate and undergraduate – during his 30 years at the university. Through the years, he tirelessly mentored numerous students as Thesis Advisor, helping many not only to complete their master’s degree thesis under his tutelage, but also helping them to present their research at academic conferences and publish their work in academic journals.

Throughout his 30 years in academia, Loren sponsored summer water ski camps at Lake Tenkiller in Oklahoma for family and friends. Often as many as thirty people would congregate to learn waterskiing tricks and enjoy the fellowship of the family. Loren has often stated that he taught hundreds of youngsters to water ski over the years. He was an incomparable boat driver and expert instructor for beginners and experts alike.

In 1996, Loren’s dear wife, Emma Louise, passed away after a long illness. To find one ‘soul mate’ is extraordinary, but Loren actually found two. His beloved second wife, the former Nancy Glaspell, was also recently widowed when they united, and together, they embarked upon Loren’s ‘fourth life’. Retired from his professorship in Texas, Loren and Nancy moved to Ozark, where he often said he could see the mountain upon which he was born from his front porch. He lived happily there with Nancy for twelve years."

Full Military Services were conducted at the National Cemetery in San Antonio, Texas

National Donut Day!

2009-06-05T12:13:00.006-05:00

June 5th is National Donut Day and we couldn't live in a better part of the country to celebrate. New Englanders are mad for their Dunkin Donuts. The map above shows the locations near my office. SEVEN all within ONE mile.

However, its not about the donuts for these folks, its about the coffee. Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall, morning, noon and night. I've never seen anything like it before and it comes with its own lingo when ordering. I'm not talking about the fancy foreign language terms used by Starbucks. At Dunks' it's more like a loud-mouthed waitress yelling an order to the short order cook working in the back of a greasy spoon. Only the loud-mouthed waitress is instead a customer.

Back to map, if you're wondering where #6 is, its hiding behind #7. The two stores are located across the street from each other.

As an aside, this is actually the first I've heard of National Donut Day, but apparently the Donut/Doughnut is honored the first Friday of every June.

Speaking of Winding Roads

2009-05-10T17:35:00.010-05:00

Roger buffed and polished each and every spoke on his Harley today. Click on the photo to see the detail. Sparkly!!!

Oh, and Guinness supervised!

And, they're off!

2009-05-01T07:54:00.024-05:00

First, a very long overdue thank you to Tim (T.D.) Thornton who invited us to be his guests at Suffolk Downs as the horse racing season was winding down last fall. Thank you! We loved it and will be back for more racing.

As long time horse race fans, we were very excited to get our own private tour of the behind the scenes look at what goes behind calling a horse race. We first had to cross a catwalk that soared above the grandstands, then followed winding hallways that seemed to go nowhere. When we finally arrived at the offices for the officials it was truly a step back into time. While waiting for T.D. to arrive, we were seated in what used to be the press booth. There were many chairs and tiny, wooden windows that overlooked the track from high above the stands. It was somewhat eerie and exciting at the same time thinking of the cigar-chewing, bourbon drinking reporters who spent countless hours at Suffolk Downs covering the races.

In T.D.'s booth, a simple walk across plywood on top of the roof gets you there, where he alone sounds the bugle (a well kept secret as to whether there's an actual bugle) and then calls the race, there exists an old, heavy wooden desk. When you slide out a little panel above the drawers, there is an ages old, hand-written list of whom to call in case of emergency. My guess is most of these contacts are now watching horse racing from heaven. It's amazing to think of how many people have used that desk over the years, possibly going back to when Seabiscuit made his appearance in 1937.

Now on to today's action. We watched T. D. prep for the upcoming race, which involved color coding the entries on his race card and attaching a mental note to each horse. He then methodically rattled off in a mumble his notes and repeated them again, while we stood by very silently. It was amazing to see and hear him call the race. I'm still dumbfounded how he pulls this off.

Once a race is over, his mind completely clears and he moves on to the next race. He attributes his ability to not confuse horses from one race to the next to a potential "character flaw," his words, if I remember correctly. T. D. is able to completely forget what just happened. I'm thinking this has to be a nightmare for his wife if there's a really good argument going on. On the flip side, it could have its benefits as well!

Of course, occasionally there's a miscall as indicated in the photo below. T. D. seems to be a pretty even tempered guy, but as with any professional, you hate to screw up! As an aside, try to say "sitting chilly" (a term used when a jockey lets the horse do the work, thereby biding his time) three times and see what you get.
T. D. has been involved in horse racing for most of his life and has written for many publications, not only about horse racing, but other sports as well. He's one of the fortunate few to be able to eke out a living while following his passion for horse racing and writing.

In 2007, his book "Not by a Long Shot: A Season at a Hard Luck Horse Track" was published with many good reviews. This book follows the 2000 racing season at Suffolk Downs, which like many other tracks has seen a loss in attendance and revenue.

However, while attendance may have dropped significantly, revenues are only slightly down in comparison, thanks to Off Track Betting parlors and continuous links to other tracks across the world. The picture below is the server room where live feed from tracks across the country come in. There's a whole other bank of monitors and computers directly across from where T. D. is standing. Two ladies monitor the entire show from here.
While, it's great that there's other sources of revenue, for real fans of the sport itself, you just have to be there in person. To feel the power of the horses as they thunder either away from the gates, and inevitably, toward the finish line, is an truly an unbelievably awesome feeling.

Suffolk Downs may not be the beauty that it once was, as the lower level "frost heaves" can toss a beer from an unsuspecting bettor's hands in seconds, but it's still a great place to spend an afternoon outdoors with a racing form in one hand and a cold beer or hot dog in the other hand.

May 2nd kicks off the 2009 live racing season in conjunction with a simulcast of the Kentucky Derby. We may not be there this weekend, but will definitely find our way there on other sunny days.

Play Ball!!!

2009-04-07T17:24:00.005-05:00

From our first meeting, Roger and I have always enjoyed going to baseball games. Early on it was the Texas Rangers. This was before the beautiful "Ballpark in Arlington" was built. The old stadium was like an erector set that just happened to play host to a major league baseball team. Historic Fenway Park on the otherhand may not be much to look at either, but as true fans know, the beauty lies in its history and layout.

I'm proud to say that my own grandfather sat in one of those seats in the 1950's. His oldest daughter, Juanita, up and married a Bostonian, so one summer the rest of the family packed up the sedan and drove from Amarillo all the way to Boston to visit her and the new in-laws. Papaw, who was once a recruited ballplayer himself, had to have been thrilled to catch a game at Fenway Park. It's hard to imagine that at the time, the park was already 50+ years old. He'd be amazed to know that it still stands in its original configuration and still has a manually operated scoreboard. He'd be even more amazed that the Redsox went 86 years between World Series titles. Supposedly the lack of a title was a result of a curse brought on by trading Babe Ruth to the "evil empire".

Other baseball memories include the summer of 1977 when I worked as an usher for the Texas Rangers. We wore gauchos, gingham shirts and a cowgirl hats. During this time, Roger was in Lawrence, Kansas cheering on George Brett and the KC Royals.

Tickets to Redsox games are very hard to come by, not to mention over-the-top expensive, so we enjoy the games from the comfort of our living room. To quench our appetite for the "real thing", we began going to see the New Hampshire Fisher Cats, one of the many MLB farm teams in the area. There's just something about a game of baseball. The easy, steady pace, with the sudden pop of a flyball, or better yet, a homerun to regain the crowd's attention and cheers.

Here's an excellent link if you'd like to read more about the history of Fenway Park.

The "Other" Portland

2009-03-27T16:58:00.005-05:00

Recently Roger and I celebrated our 18th anniversary in Portland, ME. We had driven through Portland a time or two, but never had the opportunity to stop and really check it out. From what we saw though, we knew it would be a great place to spend some time.

The trip was nice, however, I was recovering from a sooner-than-expected surgery, so it wasn't quite what we had in mind, but nonetheless, it was still great to get away and relax in our wonderful hotel room and explore the very nearby restaurants and shops, if only for 2 days.

The young, vibrant atmosphere of Portland, Maine bears some resemblance to Portland, Oregon, but for the most part, that's where the similarities end. Portland, OR is large with a population of over 1/2 million people, compared to Portland, ME's population of not even 90,000. That includes the town of South Portland.

The biggest difference however is age (Portland, ME settled in 1633, while Portland, OR was settled more than 200 years later) and the fact that Portland, Oregon is essentially landlocked. I checked on google maps and the city lies a good 1 1/2 hours from the ocean. So where did it get its name? According to the ever reliable wikipedia, Portland, Oregon was actually named after Portland, ME. Feel free to read the entire story here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Portland,_Oregon#History

Back to the "original" Portland. This city has a lively working water front, be it fishermen or tourist boats, there's constant activity. The area is also rich with unique shopping showcasing local merchants and artisans. In between the shops are many, many restaurants. In the summertime, if you've tired of the waterfront or just want to rest your feet, you can catch the AA Portland Seadogs, one of the minor league teams of the Boston Redsox.

It takes us less than 90 minutes to reach the downtown area, so we can't wait to get back to really explore the area.

I hope to add more of my own photos of Portland in the future, but in the meantime check out these Daily Photo Blogs of both Portlands.

portlandmainedaily.blogspot.com
pasttimeamainebackyardandbeyond.blogspot.com
portlanddailyphotos.blogspot.com
portlandoregondailyphoto.blogspot.com

A Bump in the Road

2009-03-16T08:10:00.002-05:00

On Friday, February 20 I had emergency girlie surgery. While recovering at home, our friends back home sent me a fabulous care package complete with, you see it in the picture, a tiara! I absolutely loved it. So on March 10, when I found myself back in the hospital due to a complication, Roger brought the tiara to the hospital.

Don't worry, I didn't wear it around the staff!

Bonjour, Montreal!

2009-01-24T17:21:00.015-05:00

They look like us, act like us and drink beer like us, but they are most certainly FRENCH Canadians, er, pardon', Canadien français!
Last September, Roger and I decided it was time to head to Canada again for vacation. We ventured up that way several years ago, covering Prince Edward Island and Nova Scotia. Not wanting to travel that far again, we chose Quebec, specifically Montreal which is only a 5 hour drive from Haverhill (correct pronunciation is HAY-vrill).

The city is beautiful and just like the guide books say, doesn't seem nearly as large as it is with 1 million plus in residence.

The guide books also say, don't worry about speaking French as they all speak some English. WRONG! I do know French, certainly not fluently, but as long as I practice beforehand I can manage pretty well. So, I took the guidebooks at their word and tossed the CDs aside until our next foray to France.

From the 1st pit stop at a convenience store after crossing into Quebec, we (I) realized we were in trouble. We were in search of an ATM and not even the teen-aged boy who worked there spoke English. That was only the beginning. Not to say that we didn't find any English speaking people here, but English is far from their first language of choice. Next time, I'll be much better prepared!

Montreal itself is very pretty with so much to do. Basilique Notre-Dame de Montreal, located where Vieux Montreal meets the financial district, is a must see.

Along with the church, where Celene Dion was married by the way, Vieux Montreal is the main tourist destination...lots of little streets to explore...
...with a multitude of stores for tourists,
but also many boutiques and art galleries.
And you can't miss Place Jacques-Cartier which rises above the St. Lawrence River. Street performers, outdoor cafes, artists...

...and of course carriage rides.
There are many other areas worth exploring, specifically near the Universities where kitsch and bohemia collide. Not to mention the endless row upon row of bars and restaurants.

Rather than stay in a hotel this trip, we decided to take our chances on renting from an individual and found this fabulous place in Vieux Montreal on homeaway.com. This unit specifically can be found at www.homeaway.com/vacation-rental/p163290. The place was a fabulous surprise, as the website photos didn't really tell the whole story.

The best part was the roof top deck with a shallow pool for ambiance, deck chairs and plenty of seating for lots of folks. We took full advantage!
So if you have a hankering for being somewhere on the slightly exotic side, but don't want to cross the pond, definitely head on up to Montreal and visit our North American Cousins!

All the images are even better when you click on them and get a much clearer view of the details in the scenery.

How Roger got out of Grocery Shopping Duty

2009-01-21T18:35:00.003-05:00

I know times are hard, however, we have jobs and can certainly afford to swill something with a cork. The only thing missing is a jug handle on the side of the bottle and a bag of pork skins.

Still Snowing

2009-01-18T10:49:00.007-05:00

Even as we're in the midst of our ninth winter in New England, we're always amazed by the beauty of the snowfall. The mulberry tree below was featured in "The Ice Storm Cometh". Hopefully in the next couple of months, we'll be able to get it inspected for any potential healing.
With the unmistakable winter, we're completely confused as to why the robins are still here. Previous winters, the arrival of the robins was to be celebrated as they gave us hope of Spring and the blooming of tulips and forsythia. Now, we're not sure what to look for.

Hoisting the Main Sail

2009-01-17T21:25:00.006-05:00

Oops, I led with the wrong picture...

...Susan, hoisting the main sail!

Susan typically comes up once a year and we always find new things to do each time. Her trip this past August was no exception. On her final evening we sailed on the Ninth Wave catamaran out of Newburyport. The weather earlier in the day was very stormy, but fortunately the skies completely cleared, as did the seas.
The earlier storm had the unexpected benefit of keeping the larger crowds at bay.

The boat provided the beverages, so we packed a small cooler of cheeses, meats and homemade bread made by Roger.With, or without Susan or other visting guests, we'll definitely make this trip again. That's the beauty of living here - for Roger and I, this is just a typical weekend!But, like I said, this was Susan's final evening and we did plenty before that. Her first day out we had breakfast at Fish Tales, a small diner located directly on the waterfront of Salisbury, looking across the Merrimac River to Newburyport.
From there we took drove up Route 1A, where along the way the fog and mist set in, which led to some stunning scenery.

We stopped at Odiorne State park where we came across this lady enjoying a book by the sea.

From there, we went into Portsmouth for a drink, or two , (maybe it was three?) at Poco's Cantina on the edge of the Portsmouth Harbor where the tug boats dock.
The next day we slept in, then headed once again for the New Hampshire shoreline, but this time for a lobster lunch at Saunders in Rye Harbor.
Sadly, the restaurant, though literally yards away from the lobster boats, was still charging 2007 lobster prices. So instead we settled for casserole and salad, after I promised Susan we'd do our own lobster boil . Twice the fun, half the price.

Before heading home, we stopped at Cider Hill Farm. I'll share more about this place in a later post, but as you can see it was absolutely beautiful on this day.
We made one more stop at Jewell Towne Vinyards, one of several local wineries in our area, then headed for the fish market for dinner!

Susan and I almost spent all four days together without wanting to strangle each other!

Yowza!

2009-01-16T13:30:00.003-05:00

Even with the brilliant sunshine, this is a bitter, bitter cold! No one said it would be easy living up here, but there's certainly no shortage of excitement.

Time for hot chocolate!

A Bevy of Birds

2009-01-12T21:16:00.005-05:00

As mentioned earlier, the winter has been very snowy. Supposedly we're in the grips of global warming, but judging by the flocks of birds that are unable to easily find food on their own due to the already thick layer of snow, covered with ice, then covered with snow again, it's rather hard to be convinced. How many birds do you see in the image above. Click on the photo and count!

All images were captured on January 11, after yet another dumping of 8" of snow. There were several other breeds this day, but not all cooperated with being photographed. The first is of the black-capped chickadee, the state bird of Massachusets and the final image below is for all my mothers.

Back to the Ice Storm

2009-01-12T21:03:00.009-05:00

I still love the anticipation of seeing what comes from a roll of film. It may not be the instant gratification of digital, but there's something about holding pictures in your hands and getting out your strongest spectacles to evaluate the details.

I can trace my love of pictures back to my grandmother's house in Amarillo. A top drawer in a bedroom dresser was crammed with black and white photos. I still see the dresser in my mind, set between windows at an angle in a corner of the room. In the drawer were photos of my mother as a girl, her sisters and brothers, photos of strangers I couldn't identify. I would spend countless hours looking at these photos over and over again. Mamaw posing on the little bridge in the backyard. My mother posing in her swimsuit with her leg kicked up. Pictures of Papaw with the current family pet. According to stories, his name was "Buster".

Today in our home you'll find much of what was at my grandmother's home, endless drawers and boxes of pictures waiting to one day find their way into an album. Others pictures were much more fortunate and are neatly arranged, in order of their appearance on the film (or disc) no less, so as not to interrupt the time line of when they were taken.

Most likely and very sadly, the days of looking back at old photos are probably nearing an end. Families and friends gathered around old photo albums, pointing and laughing at at each other. Even with our group of friends in Dallas, Sylvia has made a magnificent effort of being our unofficial "historian", but at a recent party we noticed suddenly the pictures in the album stopped and we realized they were now online. We soon found ourselves huddled around a computer rather than an island in the kitchen.

Fifty years from now, if not sooner, pictures will all be relegated to a hard drive that's been tossed aside, or thumb drives that have been lost. No longer will they be destined for a specially selected photo album to share with others. Or, to be stumbled upon in an estate sale or antique store.

Below are a few images that were taken with my non-digital Canon Rebel SLR of the ice storm in early December. My hope is that whomever ends up with the task of cleaning out our belongings, that they take time to look at our collection of photos, including the ones below, because they're not just photos, they're memories that we thought special enough to capture on film.

As a postscript - The juxtaposition of the still green grass and the ice covered trees in the picture above is a bit unsettling and actually seems to have been an omen for our very snowy winter.

Chicago...what a pleasant surprise!

2008-12-30T13:29:00.018-05:00

First impressions are everything, they say.

Our earliest impressions of Chicago were brought to us by "Bob & Emily Newhart", leading me to believe that "Chicagoans" live in high rise apartments near elevated subways. However, the most impactful impression of Chicago were brought to us compliments of the Chicago Bears, Mike Ditka and the hysterical Saturday Night Live Parodies of the 80's. Of course, outrageous sports fans are found in most any big city, so it really isn't fair to judge a city by it's parodies. Just like Boston - oh, wait, most parodies of Boston are true!

So back in July '08, I had a conference to attend in Chicago and Roger and I went out a couple of days early to poke around. We absolutely loved what little time we had to explore and were completely blown away by what a fabulous place Chicago is. We stayed at the Chicago Hilton with magnificent views of Lake Michigan and the parks that line the shore. There was so much to do outside of the hotel; the parks to stroll, excellent dining and shopping, museums. In fact, Chicago is one of the few cities that we would love to return to and really take our time seeing the sites and the museums.

Roger and I agree that Chicago is definitely one of the cleanest cities we've ever seen. So clean in fact, that the hotel staff of the Chicago Hilton didn't just hose down the exterior marble walkway- they painstakingly mopped it!

You could easily spend a solid week doing something different every single day and enjoy each and every minute of your time. If you do go, bring a good pair of walking shoes, or lots of money for cab fare, as everything was much further away than it seemed.

Or, better yet, do as these folks and rent a Segway.Your choices are absolutely endless and next time we go, we hope to sample the jazz clubs, steak houses and hopefully catch a game at historic Wrigley Field.

Until you get a chance to see Chicago for yourself, you can enjoy this final view of the Chicago waterfront.

Philadelphia

2008-12-30T12:50:00.009-05:00

What's the difference between Philly and Boston? The streets in Philly are straight and set in a very practical grid pattern. Boston on the other hand is a maze of madness - just ask Roger. With a few other exceptions, that's pretty much where the differences end when considering either town for a peek into history.

Boston has Paul Revere, Philadelphia has Benjamin Franklin, who so happened to hail from Boston.
Philly has the Liberty Bell, Boston has "Old Iron Sides". My preference is to tour an actual ship that they actually rotate every so often, as opposed to a bell that doesn't ring anymore, but that's just me.

Both cities feature Duck Boat Tours that annoy the heck out of the locals, but they're so much fun! Speaking of Duck Boats, both cities sit on a waterfront. However, if you head due east from Boston and keep your bearings straight, eventually you'll hit Portugal. Head due east out of Philadelphia, you run smack dab into Camden, NJ. Once you get to the other side, be sure to look to the left of the "Benjamin Franklin Bridge" and notice the barbed-wire fencing of the "Riverfront State Prison". Note - prison, not state park, though it sounds so serene.
A few other similarities include a large population of registered Democrats. In fact, Philly is 80% democrats compared to 76% in Boston. Its that 4% difference that put Mitt Romney in as Governor of Massachusetts.

Of course, both cities have more than their fair share of very old cemeteries.
And of course, the presence of Ivy League universities. Philly has UPenn, Boston has Harvard. Okay, so technically Harvard is in Cambridge (don't ever accuse a Cambridge resident of being from Boston), but two of Harvard's campuses are located across the Charles River.

If you're afraid of falling ill while traveling, choose Boston. We have twice the number of doctors.

If you're into sports, okay, winning sports teams, come to Boston. Across Baseball, Hockey and Basketball, Philly has a paltry 6 championships, compared with Boston's whopping 29 championships. Notice I didn't include football? That's because the New England Patriots don't play in Boston.

All things considered they're both beautiful historic cities. I had a chance to travel to Philadelphia in March of 2008 for a conference. Personally, I'd avoid both cities until they've had a chance to thaw a bit more.
Ulimately, I suppose your decision could come down to your choice of foods. Allergic to shellfish? Avoid the Clam Chowder and go to Philly. Have a strong dislike of CheeseWhiz? Then avoid the Cheesesteak and head to Boston. Oh, and Philly also has this odd meat thing called "scrapple", if that has your curiousity up, then head to Philadelphia!

Just in case you're wondering, all above images were taken in Philadelphia!

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-25T11:19:00.004-05:00

Due to Mother Nature we opted not to have a Christmas tree this year. We always get a fresh tree, but the ice storm put those plans on, well, ice. Below is this year's substitute. What do you think? Would Martha approve?

Then, the Snow Storm Cameth

2008-12-25T11:11:00.004-05:00

48 hours of constant snow, and we were still very fortunate that we didn't end up with more snow than we did. We were also fortunate it was mostly a weekend event, so we didn't have to contend with commuting to and from work. In fact, the prediction from one meteorologist, "the snow will arrive as a wall of snow". Sure enough, she was correct! Below are images from my office in Medford, which is one of the towns just north of Boston.

Its been rumored that once upon in time in Medford, the mafia buried a guy in a snowbank and wasn't discovered until the spring thaw. Having read this before we moved to New England, I thought the story was rather implausible. After living here more than 8 years now, I can see how this could happen. We average 56" of snow each winter and we have 3 feet to go! That, coupled with the fact that I'm 99% certain there's still a handful mobsters in Medford, what will we find in our parking lot come springtime?

The Ice Storm Cometh

2008-12-13T18:41:00.007-05:00

On December 11th, parts of Massachusetts, including our little neck of the woods, Maine, and most all of New Hampshire were hit by high winds and ice. Power outages and fallen trees were, and still are, the norm across the area. The magnitude of the storm can only be expressed by noting the work crews with out of state license plates. On our street alone, we had a crew from Ohio. Another road over, the crew was from Iowa.

We were fortunate that our outage lasted only 28 hours. I say, fortunate, because many people will be without for the next few days. Oh, and right now as I type this, we're at a balmy 18 degrees!

While we were spared any damage to our house, we did lose our favorite tree. A huge mulberry tree that provided us with so much delight.

In the summertime, the branches are so heavy with fruit they nearly touch the ground. When we mowed the yard would nibble mulberries with each pass. On weekend mornings the rising sun would shine so brightly into the tree that you could see the reddish fruit all the way from our back deck.

Birds by the dozens flitted in and out of the tree, providing the ultimate Sunday Brunch. But not only did the birds benefit, we also have a family of woodchucks that would munch the day away eating the fruit that literally covered the ground underneath. At dusk we would see the occasional small herd of deer having their fill.

While we'll tremendously miss our tree, we are very lucky that our other favorite tree survived with only a few small branches tumbling down from the weight of the ice and winds. This tree, our maple, hovers way above our house providing loads of shade in the summer.

We'll take a fallen mulberry out in the back forty over a fallen maple into our home anyday!

I Think He Missed Me!

2008-11-12T16:25:00.004-05:00

I returned home after a 4 day trip to Texas when Roger told me that his mom asked if Guinness missed me while I was gone. Judging by the picture above, I'd say yes. He's always had a penchant for dirty socks, but this just went too far. I had unpacked my suitcase and sorted the clothes for laundry. When my back was turned, he grabbed, not just one sock, but 3 of my socks AND a pair of very comfy undies. He's been carrying these around since I let him in from outside and refuses to give them up.

How D Doo - Susie Q

2008-06-28T17:27:00.003-05:00

This little baby, no more than 4 inches long was about one foot from our deck. Roger spotted mom and sibling on the far side of the vegetable garden, who then immediately darted for the woods, leaving this little fellow/gal all alone.

Good Morning, Ayer's Village!

2008-06-22T14:27:00.011-05:00

This was quite the weekend in our little neck of the woods. Rarely am I up before 8am on Saturday mornings, but this particular morning I had to go into the office. As I'm getting ready in the "powder room" I see a hot air balloon off into the distance well above the horizon. I called Roger in and pointed it out to him. The balloon was so high, you could actually see a commercial jet airplane off behind it.

Not 20 minutes later as we were sitting in the living room we heard a loud "whoooosh", and then another.....Roger looked out and this is what we saw!
The balloon was directly across the street from us! Click on the photo for a wonderful close up! It really gives the perspective of how enormous this balloon was.

Before long the neighbors were all coming out with cameras as well. Oddly enough, we all spotted it initially from our own bathrooms. Now I understand the lower water pressure in the mornings!

Alas, we were never able to determine its final destination.

Then came Sunday morning. We found this baby Robin sitting amongst the petunias.
Mom was nearby for sure, so we did our best to capture the moment. Click on the picture for a real close up. Notice the little tufts of down in spots on its head.

The bird stayed there for well over an hour and would occasionally close its eyes.

Just a short time later, Roger came across this piece of a robin's egg in the yard. Could it be our little friend's former home?

Chino wants to say "Hello" as well!

2008-06-22T14:24:00.004-05:00

Our beautiful, sweet, sweet cat Chino. Unfortunately the flash kept her from showing her gorgeous blue eyes!

Now I just have to capture Bailey so she can say hello as well. However, it's difficult to catch her when she isn't sleeping or hollering at us!

Sir Guinness of Haverhill Glen wants to say "HI!"

2008-05-23T18:02:00.003-05:00

Hello!

Here's the Church, Look at the People Install the New Steeple

2008-05-23T17:52:00.008-05:00

These pictures were taken in North Hampton, NH. What a beautiful day to take on such a task. The breeze was light, the sun was bright - what more could these outdoor tradesmen wish for? Click on the photos for excellent, yet somewhat grainy detail.

Has Spring Finallly Sprung?

2008-05-23T17:30:00.001-05:00

It occured to me while driving near Portsmouth, New Hamsphire that the daffodils really mimic what it's like to wait for Spring to finally arrive in New England. Spring meaning only slightly warmer than the end of winter.

When I saw my own daffodils with their droopy heads, I thought I had missed their bloom, but I realized I hadn't missed a thing. They're just incredibly slow to raise their sleepy heads, open their eyes and finally take a good look around.

Bold and Brash

2008-05-23T17:15:00.004-05:00

If daffodils are symbolic of the weather, then the forsythia has to be symbolic of New Englanders. It's all the best and all the worst wrapped into one out-of-control, yet, beautiful bush. Like the wildness of the branches, New Englanders are loud, brash, highly opinionated and in-your-face, always on the go looking for the next good time. But like the incredibly brilliant blossoms, they're also extremely friendly, warm, curious about strangers and very caring people, always wanting to know more about you.

So come on up and chat with those around you. I can almost guarantee you you'll be glad you did!

Please enjoy these other photos of the forsythia, which is absolutely everywhere up here!

One Year Later and a Dream Come True!

2008-05-23T16:42:00.009-05:00

Approximately one year ago I began this blog with a birthday greeting to Roger. While I haven't had a chance to update this since March, I am surprised at the amount of content I managed to put up here over the past 12 months, some good, some not so good, some eventually removed (where's your sense of humor?!?!).

Now, another year has passed, and a another birthday has come and at long last, a brand new Harley for Roger. I encourage you to click on the picture above for a larger image of his huge smile and his beautiful bike.

Since the day we met, this is all he's talked about - motorcycles. I should say, motorcycles and Nicole. And now was finally the time for him to strap on the ol' saddle bags again after many years of being restricted to 4 wheel transportation. His back is doing very well and it just seemed like the right thing to do at this point.

But, I can't even begin to express what this has done for his spirit, except to say that it has truly soared! In fact, he went as far as to model the rainsuit he purchased "just in case". I must say, this man has never modeled anything for me in all the years we've been together. Well, there was this one instance, but I won't go into that! Let's just say it was very late at night.

So the road is indeed winding. Perfect for cruising the ocean road or forested roads or just taking the back roads to work - on a big ol' Road King Classic! And by the way, it gets a minimum of 50 mpg!

Ride, Roger, Ride!

Oh, below is a photo of me trying to pass off as a Harley Chick! Gotta keep up with those gals you know!

Hello, Arkansas!

2008-03-16T14:50:00.005-05:00

We spent the final three nights in Russellville with Roger's Mom and Dad before heading back home to New England.

The only downside was that winter decided to rear its ugly head at the end of February! We drove up Magazine Mountain to visit a fairly new resort that was built by the state of Arkansas. In spite of our view being dramatically cut short due to fog, the building itself was stunning! Lots of wood and rock and huge fireplaces. I can't wait to go back on a good weather day and perhaps spend a night in one of the cabins.

It also just so happened that Wanda's birthday was just around the bend, so we helped her kick off the celebration!!!

We mostly spent the days relaxing, eating and drinking coffee, relaxing, eating and drinking coffee, etc., etc., and of course lots of visiting. Not only with Don and Wanda, but with Shirley and Roger's cousin Kathy.

Alas, it was time to head back, and just in time! Guinness had the pleasure of staying in a kennel for an entire week. The picture below was taken within an hour getting home. Back in the lap of his bestfriend!!!

Goodbye, Texas!

2008-03-16T14:23:00.005-05:00

We had a great time in Winnsboro, which is where the pictures in the earlier post were taken. The most exciting thing, other than seeing the brand new colts, was getting to see the Space Shuttle, following behind the International Space station. That was so exciting and luckily the skies were very clear! The picture below isn't of that celestial event, but of the almost full moon.

We said farewell to family in Texas, then headed to Arkansas for the final stop of our week long tour.

Just a few miles down the road from Daddy's house, we came across a true Texas Car Alarm. Just try to get near this pickup! Of course, seeing as its a retriever on post, you'd probably just get licked to death!

You know you're in Texas when...

2008-03-16T13:33:00.011-05:00

Mistletoe hangs thick in the oak trees all year long.

You have an endless supply of pecans to snack on just outside your door.
There's always a tank to drop a line in.
Folks put up massive gates, but do without an actual fence.
And the neighbors always take time out of their busy schedule to come say hello.

And let me tell you, this handsome guy had one very busy schedule as the resident stallion. Had I known his prowess, I probably wouldn't have ventured so close! Below are 2 pictures of ONE of the TWO mares that gave birth to his babies overnight while we were in Winnsboro.

The colts were too far away for to get a picture, but one was blond, and the other looked identical to the stallion. "Mini-me" right out of the chute, so to speak, immediately stood shoulder high to his mother who is pictured above!

Match the Man to the Moment

2008-02-24T18:48:00.008-05:00

Some of you are aware that Roger and I did the Grand Family Tour in February. It was a great trip covering almost 800 miles. I'll post more pictures later. In the interim, I thought I'd pass along some moments that were shared with us featuring the men above. Clockwise from upper left, Roger's dad "Don", my step-dad "Ray", my dad "Tommy" and of course, Roger.

Please feel free to match the moments below to the man above.

a) This fella has 2 similar moments and I'll share them both. Who decided the rooftop of his house was a good place to lay back and rest - UNTIL the vultures started circling. Then, who decided when repairing a sprinkler head that since he was on the ground anyway, that the middle of the yard was a good place to take a nap, only to be awoken by the neighbor and EMTs who thought, well, lets just say he got a free ride to the local Emergency Room.

b) This fella has decided that should he ever experience a pharmaceutically induced erection that lasts longer than 4 hours, rather than call the doctor as recommended by the pharmaceutical company, would instead call his neighbor into action.

c) This fella, alone on a Saturday night, as his wife was out with a girlfriend, invited a door-to-door Kirby Vacuum cleaner salesman into his house. While the salesman demonstrated/steam-cleaned the entire living room, this particular fella sat in his easy chair eating pizza, watching TV and lifting his feet when necessary so as not to impede the demonstration.

d) This fella, said to his beautiful, loving wife of 17 years, "please, don't ever let me get old." :~)

Happy Birthday, Momma!

2008-02-17T15:59:00.007-05:00

Roger and I had the chance to get to Fort Worth to celebrate Momma's 70th birthday. Doesn't she look great!?! She's living proof that like her birthday card says, "70 isn't what it used it to be!"

We descended upon the Outback Steakhouse in Burleson for her birthday dinner, which was also shared with Melissa (the 19th), Me (the 16th) and Loretta, also on the 19th. It was a great time and I'm almost sure the management of the Outback will not allow us all back under their roof at the same time ever again. There may have been, but I'm not completely sure, some crawling under tables a time or two, or three, during the evening.
The boys above are Marty (in-law to Dave), Dave (my big brother), Roger and Bryan (my little brother).Ray was brave enough to foot the bill for the entire crew. Of course, had I known that, I would have ordered a better brand of tequila and a bigger and better cut of steak!
Seven-year-old Aubrey, who managed to keep herself entertained amongst the crazy adults, gave everyone drawings of hearts. Mine had a snowflake in the middle!
In the end, everyone had a grand time, with lots of laughter and lots of getting to know each other again. Like with so many families that scatter from here and there, the opportunities to all gather together become more rare, but this makes each holiday or birthday even more special!

New England Speak

2008-02-14T22:54:00.008-05:00

The Letter "R", or the letter "R-uh"
No photo to share this time, just a quick lesson on how to speak like a New Englander. Please note, this only applies to those who live east of the Connecticut River, south of Lake Winnepesauke and, I hate to say this, but those who most likely have not gone to college. Nothing personal, but it's very true.

You can also pretty much exclude most Mainers, as they have a whole 'nother issue going on up there. Or, as they call it "Down East". What in the world does that even mean? Seriously! But I digress.

There are actually 2 simple rules.

Rule #1: this rule is the worst kept secret in the entire world. If a word has the letter "R" anywhere near the end, do not, under any circumstance, pronounce the "r".

Example: hah-bu: where you take your boat
bah: where you take your beer
pahk: where you take your Boston Terrier
bee-yuh: what you get at the "bah"
stai-yuhs: what you go down to enter the original Bull&Finch, aka "Cheers"

As you can see, sometimes it's quite necessary to turn a one syllable word into two syllables to follow this rule.

Rule #2: this rule is rather simple, and seems to be the New Englander's way of making up for all those lost "r"s. If a word ends with a vowel, or a silent consonant, add an "r" to the end. Simple enough!

Example: I hate wearing a brawr but I'll put one on anyway.
You've reached the lawr firm of Diddle and Doodle.

I once told a waitress, as a joke I might add between Roger and myself, "thank you for the "strawr". This got me into all kinds of trouble with that woman! You see, she had gone to college and was quite offended that perhaps I was insinuating that she was mispronouncing her words. Geewhilakers - it was only a joke that she wasn't even supposed to hea-yuh!

Rule #2a: Here's where it gets complicated. If a syllable ends in a vowel or silent consonant, throw in an "r".

Example: drawer = drahr-yu

Okay, I know, drawer is only pronounced with one syllable, but again, sometimes you just have to make it into two so you can follow the rule.

I'll provide more examples later as I have to make note of them when I hea-yuh them. In the meantime, class is ovah.

What to do?? What to do???

2008-02-13T10:28:00.010-05:00

The wind is blowing up to 25mph, a muted sun is trying to peak through, the temperature is only in the mid-30's. So, what is there to do on a Saturday such as this? Go to the movies, head to the shopping mall, or head off to a cozy bar? Of course not! Do as the seals do and go to the beach! These seals are hanging out on Badger Rocks where the Merrimac River (more on the Merrimac in a later post) feeds into the Atlantic Ocean. With water temperatures at 39 degrees, that's actually warmer than the air.

Roger and I weren't the only ones to head to the beach. Take a look! My favorite picture is of the little boy toddling on the beach. Later he was trying to get back to his parents who were looking for treasures around the lobsta' traps, but the wind kept blowing him backwards. She finally noticed and ran over and rescued him! By the way, he was never in peril.

After taking these photos, Roger and I headed up the coastline to Portsmouth, New Hampshire where we noticed the Coast Guard patrolling the shores.

After doing a bit of shopping in historic downtown Portsmouth, we did indeed head to a cozy bar to warm our cockles!

And to all.....a good night

2008-01-08T18:09:00.000-05:00

As winter has wrapped her long, gray arms around us, we settle in for our winter hibernation. How long will the winter endure, until the forsythia forces the onset of spring? Until then, we'll remain snuggled beneath blankets, whiling away the days, counting the minutes gained each day as the sun sets a little later with each passing week.

Just kidding!!! There's tons to do up here all year long. We hope to spend the next few months taking you all on a scenic tour with a bit of history dropped in whenever possible. Alright, so most everything up here is rooted in history, so we'll keep it to whatever is nearest to us and to what rings our bell.

The picture above is a great example of this. The Kingston 1686 House located in East Kingston, New Hampshire, just a few minutes from our house. I hope to take you inside and show you around. That is, as soon as I can convince Roger to take me back there for dinner!

But in the meantime, enjoy the photo below of the sun setting over the salt marshes of Plum Island.

Merry Christmas Y'all!

2007-12-20T20:10:00.000-05:00

It's so hard to believe that this year will be our 8th Christmas here in New England. The time really has flown by! As you can see, we are pretty much guaranteed a White Christmas this year. Christmas is always a great time, but it feels so much different surrounded by 2 feet of snow. Very different from one of our last Christmas' in Texas when we threw on shorts and t-shirts and sat outside playing chess.

What Roger and I are most surprised about, is this will be our 18th Christmas together. Not that we thought we wouldn't last as a couple, as we truly are bestest friends, but that so much time has passed. Our first Christmas is still very vivid.

We were in a very small apartment and I really wanted a Christmas tree. One day I returned home to find a short, but very fat, tree squeezed into our living room. Roger was so proud, but very amazed at how much smaller the tree looked at the Christmas tree lot.

That 1st Christmas we drove to Lawrence, Kansas to see his family - this was my first trip to Kansas and I was so very nervous. The trip takes about 8 hours and we found ourselves rather late at night on Christmas Eve traveling through the state of rolling hills. Radio reception was spotty at best, but we finally a found a station we could hear. It was a lone DJ, no ads, just him, the Christmas music he was tasked with playing, and apparently a bottle booze by his turntable. The longer we listened, the slurrier his words became. We laughed so hard, which really eased my anxiety!

Other memories are of "Pa" Davis and his magical basket of nuts. When Nicole was little he would tease her into cracking open the nuts, knowing that several walnuts had been previously opened, carefully scooped out, and a dollar bill tightly folded and placed into the nut. He would then carefully glue the walnut back together. Of course, in later years, Nicole went straight for the mightly walnuts and got rather good at spotting the nuts that had been manipulated.

Most times Christmas seems to focus on the Christmas tree. The year we had moved into our 1st house in Richardson, we had a room where eventually a pool table would go, but this year we plopped our HUGE Christmas tree right smack dab in the middle of the room. It was fabulous!

Other years we've had to accomodate pets, with our latest trees being no taller than 4 feet, which we place on a perch built into, and beside, our rather massive fireplace. We did this after we got Guinness, knowing what damage his tail could do!

This is actually the first year we've gone without, as we've moved into a warmer part of the house and couldn't quite figure out where it would go. I'm sure we'll have this resolved by next year!

An explanation of the pictures. We decided to take a self-portrait last weekend by setting the timer on the camera. The top picture was taken when I heard the camera just about to go off before I made it to my spot. Running down 5 steps of slippery steps of one deck, through 10" of snow, and across another deck. The picture below was when I finally scampered across all obstacles - throwing caution to the snow banks!

The Best Season of All

2007-11-04T09:16:00.000-05:00

It's really no surprise that Autumn in New England ranges from gorgeous,at the very least, to absolutely stunning. "Foliage Season" is always tricky and unpredictable. Last year the season was endless, starting in late August and lasting well into early November. This year, the season sputtered and stalled, but eventually came through. Still, we come across pockets of color that completely take your breath away as you round a corner or look into a field of brilliant gold.

Overall what we found most surprising is that it's not so much a season, as an event that lasts for weeks and weeks. Small communities all across the region hold fairs and festivals, most, if not all based on agriculture. These fairs have been an annual event in many towns for more than 150 years. I was rather naive and believed that only folks in the south raise vegetables (the above photo shows our attempt at growing corn!) and have cattle ranches, so it was a great delight to discover that New England is mostly rural. While the ocean is what drew us up here, its actually the stunning beauty that keeps us up here - for now anyway!

Unfortunately we had a computer crash a couple of months back, and I lost all images from previous seasons, so I hope you enjoy these from the Sandwich Fair in Sandwich, New Hampshire. I hope to post more at a later date - if I can find them that is!

It's a Dog's Life

2007-09-27T14:21:00.001-05:00

No real story to share, just a picture of Sir Guinness of Haverhill Glen, our 2 3/4 year-old chocolate bundle of fun. Also known as Roger's lap dog and very bestest friend!

Following Dreams

2007-09-26T10:37:00.000-05:00

Recently Roger and I had the opportunity to meet a rather extraordinary family at the New Hampshire International Speedway.

Chase Austin is an up and coming NASCAR driver, whose grandmother just so happened to be Roger’s Sunday school teacher many, many years ago back in Lawrence, Kansas. What led up to this meeting was the exchanging of several emails between Roger and Marianne Austin, Chase’s mom. Roger had learned of Chase’s career several months ago and then he realized he would be racing up here in New England. We weren’t very hopeful in getting to meet any of the Austins, let alone Chase, so we were thrilled when it worked out for us to be able join them in the race car hauler before Chase’s race.

Marianne and her husband Steve were able to upgrade their pit passes and passed along the old ones to us. We were so excited when we hopped onto the back of the little gator, flashed our yellow “credentials” and zipped on in like we were really important! What was amazing was the fact that the parents of a driver had a limited pass to begin with. After all, if it weren’t for them….:)

It was a fantastic afternoon, and the family was very kind and welcoming. We hung out in their high-tech hauler for a bit, then headed over to pit road while Cup qualifying was going on. The only problem - I had on sandals and was nixed at the gate from going any further. While disappointed, I encouraged the others to go ahead and for Roger to take pictures. I was thrilled just to be anywhere near the action in the first place.

After several minutes I went back to the main gate in case they all came back. Suddenly, Steve appeared at my side with a pair of shoes! Not just any ol’ close-toed shoes, but a pair of Chase’s racing shoes. He had slipped off back to the hauler without any of us knowing. Later when Chase came down to prepare for his race I showed off my “new” shoes. How Chase really felt about a middle-aged woman dressed in pink wearing his shoes, I’m not sure. I, on the otherhand, felt like I was walking in Dale Earnhardt’s shoes!

The Austin family, Steve, Marianne, son Chase and their 2 daughters, are the true epitome of the name of this blog – “Life on Winding Road”. But they also epitomize the sacrifices that sometime come with following a dream.

Chase, who will soon be the ripe old age of 18, has proven himself to be a very talented race car driver. After a very bumpy start, his drive and talent is paying off, resulting in him gaining the attention of Rusty Wallace, and ultimately a NASCAR driver development contract with his team. This is no small feat and there are thousands of young men, and women (!), who dream of following in Chase’s footsteps. But, like so many dreams, this has resulted in a geographical separation for the family. While Steve, Chase and the oldest daughter have moved to the heart of NASCAR in North Carolina, Marianne and the youngest daughter remain in Kansas to provide a home base for the family.

We can certainly attest to what it’s like to leave behind loved ones and knowing that you’re missing out on not just the special events, but the humdrum of daily life as well. Ultimately we’ll head back south to be near Nicole and our parents and friends. And ultimately we know that the Austin Family will be able to be together again as a family, even as their children grow and they all begin their own careers.

In the meantime, we’ll cheer Chase on and wish them all of the very best of luck!.

The Smell that is New Orleans

2007-09-26T10:17:00.000-05:00

It hits you as soon as you exit the airplane – this odorous, almost stench of a smell. It greets you outside of the hotel and can almost knock you flat as you round a corner, or when the wind whips through an alleyway. But mostly, it just hangs in the air like a persistent fog that you can’t see, but you know without a doubt that it’s there. Even on the 6^th day of being there, I could still smell it, even though the dank smell of my hotel room had finally faded.

But, what’s also very noticeable is the wonderful, outgoing spirit of the residents and visitors from surrounding areas.

I was traveling solo, so perhaps I was a bit more attuned to my environment than usual, but I also truly believe that New Orleans is just a great place to be.

The highlight, by far, was being invited to dine with 3 ladies from Mississippi. They realized I was dining alone and invited me to join them at their table. I'm sure I should have refused, but completely out of character as it was for me, I took them up on their incredible gratiousness. I was so nervous though, I was chattering on endlessly. I'm sure they'd had their fill of me by the time dinner ended!

Finally, this last note on the Crescent City is to encourage others to go there as well. To help you out, here’s the list of all the restaurants I went to over a course of a week, all in or near the French Quarter, and all highly recommendable.

Near the Convention Center & Harrah’s Casino:

* Emeril’s – posh and delicious http://www.emerils.com/restaurants/neworleans_emerils

* Gordon Biersch Brewery – chain, but lots to choose from and lots of activity
http://www.gordonbiersch.com/restaurants/index.php?pg=location&sub=loc&location_id=5

*Lucy’s Retired Surfers Bar – got the feeling this place is a great late night hangout. http://lucysretiredsurfers.com/

* Mulates – traditional cajun food – live music every night www.mulates.com

* Riche by Todd English – way swanky and pricey. I stopped in for the Friday afternoon seafood boil. Huge shrimp, tasty oysters, great gumbo at a fantastic mid-afternoon price.
www.harrahs.com/casinos/harrahs-new-orleans/restaurants-dining/riche-detail.html

French Quarter – locally owned (I think):

* Tujagues – 2^nd oldest restaurant in New Orleans, and the 1^st stand-up bar in the city. Causal atmosphere with a set menu with choice of entree. www.tujaguesrestaurant.com/

* Gumbo Shop – wonderful Cajun cuisine, reasonably priced. www.gumboshop.com/restaurant_menu/restaurant_menu.asp

* Crescent City Brew House – best oysters and cocktail sauce I’ve ever had! www.crescentcitybrewhouse.com/history.html

* The Market Café – great place for breakfast. Stand in the long line at Café Du Monde to quickly eat a beignet (aka as donuts) or keep going a couple blocks further to my very favorite spot! There’s almost always live jazz, the bloody marys are excellent and the pace, very relaxing!!!

* Pat O’Briens - www.patobriens.com – more of tourist tradition than a local tradition is my guess, but it’s well worth the stop. Maybe one of these days I’ll actually eat here.

French Quarter - chains:

* Landry’s Seafood House – New Orleans boasts the original, thought the chain actually began in Houston. www.landrysseafoodhouse.com/images/LSH-Menu.pdf

* Bubba Gump Shrimp Company – where the movie "Forrest Gump" plays all the time. I thought the menu was rather limited, but a fun place to hang and listen to the music www.bubbagump.com/locations/new_orleans.html

A New Orleans Icon

2007-08-03T07:31:00.000-05:00

Recently I had the opportunity to spend a week in New Orleans to attend a conference. Naturally, I was unsure what to expect after Hurricane Katrina.

Reports state that the population of New Orleans is now only 50% of what it used to be. That, in itself if really hard to imagine, suddenly your own city or neighborhood reduced by half. But then add to that, all the lives that were lost.

I took the above photo at Pat O'Briens in the French Quarter, famed for the gazillion Hurricane drinks, and other libations, they serve every year. Okay, so I hear they also serve food, but I myself can't attest to that fact.

If you've ever gone to the piano bar, you would have seen Mr. Eddie perform. Using thimbles on his fingers, tapping away at a silver serving tray, working the crowd so patrons could toss coins and bills on the tray, making his "music" even livelier!

Sadly, he was lost in the floods, at the age of 95. A lifelong resident of NOLA, he began working at Pat O'Briens in the 40's. Rumor has it that he was never officially hired, he just showed up one day and began bussing tables. What is true, is that he never missed a day of work in his life. He worked until 3am every morning entertaining the tourists. In fact, he had worked the night prior to the hurricane and was too tired to try to evacuate. His wife was rescued from the roof of their home, and the last thing she remembered of her husband, was hearing him pray. It would be 4 months before his grandson was able to track down his body.

I was happy to find out that inspite of his tragic death, he received the send off he deserved - on what would have been his 96th birthday, a crowd gathered at Pat O'Briens where a jazz band led everyone in a second line jazz funeral and the celebration continued through the night.

From what I've found on the internet, Mr. Eddie was not a poor man. He had acquired homes and a couple of businesses over the years, but his main love was Pat O'Brien's. So much so, that the eve of his 2nd wedding, off to work he went.

Next time you're in New Orleans, stop in for a hurricane at Pat OBrien's as a way to pay homage to all the lives that were disrupted. Because in New Orleans, the party never stops and they wouldn't have it any other way!

Artichokes!

2007-07-24T10:10:00.000-05:00

What's so exciting about an artichoke, you may ask. Well, when they're going in a flower pot on my patio in New England it's very exciting.

Last summer I came across a local nursery with artichoke plants for sale so I added 2 to my vegetable garden, but no chokes were ever borne. I attempted to transplant them into pots to bring indoors but they weren't in the least bit happy. Maybe because they were sitting right above a space heater?

This year I came across them again and just had to give it another shot. But this time, knowing they need lots of room to grow, and probably much better soil, I put them in my patio pots, with marigolds for good measure in case of another failure. Well lo and behold this past weekend we have not one, but two chokes on one plant! The other plant is just beginning to produce a tiny choke that should be in full view in a few days.

I'm looking forward to boiling and eating these with the best butter I can find. And afterward I'll do my best to save the plants for next year, as according to the California Artichoke Board, plants will continue to produce dozens of artichokes for up to 7 years.

2007-07-24T09:56:00.001-05:00

Summer in New England means lobster! Make that LOTS of lobster! These 2 critters were picked up in Kittery, Maine at the Seaview Lobster Company (a brief 30 minute drive from our house) for a very cheap price. By lobster standards that is.

When Roger and I moved up here, I seriously thought lobster could be bought for prices similar to chicken. But that’s not the case. Due to an abundant crop this year (over-sexed lobsters maybe?), the prices have dropped. These 2 beauts we bought at $7 a pound, and they usually would have been $11 a pound. But still, multiply that by their weight – 5 lbs total – that’s still quite the chunk of change out the pocket book.

Unfortunately, the guy who sold us our dinner, though as incredibly young and handsome as he is, with his mouth shut – is missing several teeth! So I feel it’s my duty as a New Englander to buy more lobsters so maybe this guy can afford to go to the dentist.

We’ve learned quite a bit about lobsters in the time we’ve been up here. One, you can go scuba diving for lobsters. We haven’t done this ourselves, but that’s how friends who own a boat have been known to spend their summers. Two, I can make a mean lobster chowder – southern style! Cajun spices and Tabasco make all the difference in the world.

Third, and most important, don’t even think you can just move to Maine and start up your own lobster business – you will not make it. Not because there aren’t enough lobsters per se, but unless you’re born into the business, or have had long-standing ties to a lobstering community – your traps will be sabotaged. That’s pretty much a guarantee.

Not to completely disparage Mainers, but I also read not long after moving here about a couple who moved north and started an orchard business. Seemed harmless enough to me, but for some reason the neighbors burned down the orchard – apparently because they weren’t locals and they had the nerve to try to start a business. These people not only refused to move, they also replanted their orchards. I hope they’re still there, but it’s certainly quite a hill to climb.

Overall though, our experiences with Maine have been very pleasant, though they are very much their own people, but then again, they know we’re spending our money in Maine, then heading back home to Massachusetts.

Proverbs 22:6 Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.

2007-07-23T12:34:00.000-05:00

The above bible verse was provided by my cousin, Steve Garrett, in 2002 for a compilation of memories provided by all 17 Garrett cousins of our grandparent’s home in Amarillo, Texas. This verse strikes a chord in me today, as not only a testament to how he lived his own life, raising 4 daughters, but the values that were instilled in all of us that truly beckon back to generations of Garretts and Johnsons raising families. We were all far from perfect, but we always had the strong values built on Christian faith to get us through difficult times, whether the hard times were a result of our own actions, or simply dealing with what life throws at everyone.

In looking around at my relatives, I believe most of us married into families that were a direct reflection of our own families. Afterall, what were the odds of me finding a man who knew, not only what Wahoo is, but also played on homemade Wahoo boards?

At age 51, on July 20th, 2007, Steve lost his battle with ALS, probably better known as Lou Gehrig’s disease. The following was taken from his obituary and I wanted to pass this along:

“…Stevie Ray, stepped out of this life and into the presence of the Lord. There he received a crown of righteousness and is now dancing before the Lord in his new body, which is no longer incapacitated by the Lou Gehrigís disease he fought so courageously for the past three years.”

Some of you have dealt directly with your own immediate familty members who have had ALS and can provide a first-hand account of how truly horrible the disease is. Steve was always vibrant and a very strong, physical person and when diagnosed with ALS, he and his wife booked a trip to the Holy Land to truly walk in the steps of Jesus.

In addition to ALS, there are so many conditions today that are in need of money to help aid in the discovery of cures. I know we all give in our own ways, but I wanted to point out a website, Charity Navigator, which provides data on hundreds, or maybe thousands of charities, detailing what percentage of monies donated is actually used for the intended purpose. Their list runs the gamut of health, environment and education, just to name a few. So if you’re leery of donating to a foundation, please check out their website for more information.

And in the meantime, may be peace and goodness dwell in the hearts of the immediate family Steve left behind.

Foray Into Fiction

2007-07-20T10:37:00.000-05:00

So for several years now I've wanted to attempt writing a book. Inspired by my grandmother's life as a child and teenager, my intended original project (a "roman a clef", fiction based on fact) has been pushed to the back of my mind for instead a completely different project.

Either way, what little I've written only emphasizes how truly difficult it is to put onto paper, what's going round in your head. And that's just the words! Now imagine trying to remember grammar lessons that were much less interesting than the the cute guy sitting in front of me in class, with his curly, blonde hair and bulging 16-year-old biceps. Sorry, I've seemed to have gotten off track just a bit!

Back to grammer - FOCUS - just today I learned from a New Hampshire Rock Station of all places, that you use "a" if the word following begins with a consonant. Alternatively you use "an" if the following word begins with a vowel. Who knew?!?! Probably most of you, but it was completely lost on me. Oh well, so if I ever do get published, I'll have one over-worked editor correcting all my errors!

But in reality, what's stopping me from really writing either story are two concerns. The first, plagarism, be it actual sentences, characters, tone, you name it! I'm terrified that if I'm reading a dime-store novel, while creating my masterpiece, that suddenly my project has morphed into another author's already published piece of work.

My second fear, and my biggest, is what will people think? Will they think I've lost my mind when reading what I've created, or will they think I'm writing about my own experiences guised in a fictional character? Bottom line - what will people think?!?! This fear I will have to find a way to get over on my own, as the first fear is more easily avoided as I find my own voice over the next couple of years.

For now, both projects are on hold until I put more practice into the simple act of writing. I've created a 2nd blog frontseatfiction.blogspot.com where I'll be posting stories, the first of which was posted today "Miss April Showers". This initial short story may become a serial novel which I hope will help me in developing characters.

In my mind, I'm this fabulous writer (ala Joan Wilder in "Romancing the Stone") who has been approached by Kellogg's - yes the cereal company, because they want to publish my serial novel(s) inside boxes of "Special K", wrapped in that crinkly cellophane of course! Imagine, a new chapter available to muse over every 4 weeks or so while you eat your breakfast.

But in the meantime, slide on over and read "Miss April Showers".

Never Look Down

2007-05-25T14:26:00.001-05:00

So it occurred to me while uploading Nicole's college graduation photos to shutterfly.com, that she is now only 4 years younger than I was when she first came into my life. When I was 25, never in a million years would I have guessed what my future held!

It was 1990 and I had just turned 29 and she had just turned 8 years-old when I met her dad at Sneaky Pete's on Lake Lewisville on March 9th. However, our first in-person encounter didn't happen until August when I (newly engaged!) attended the family reunion of my future in-laws on the Arkansas River in Ozark, Arkansas. Nicole had ridden down with her grandparents from Kansas, and we drove up from Dallas. The closer we got to our destination, the more my stomach knotted up with nervousness at not just meeting Nicole, but the whole entire clan, for the very first time!

When we arrived, she was playing in the river with her cousins. We walked to the end of the little dock and Roger got her attention. The first words out of her mouth to me was "Hi Mom!". I may have well as just jumped into the river with them all and let it carry me downstream, as at that point I felt I'd just fell completely into the deep end of something much bigger than I.

Over the years Nicole grew up with a determination to be her own person, in charge of her own life. She's gone through many difficult times, some which may have been softened had we been there in Lawrence, but most is what so many kids are faced with today in growing up and then the added aspect of a blended family.

Often times I wanted Nicole to come live with us, mostly out of selfishness! However, I never wanted to put her in a position where she felt she had to choose between two parents. I also knew that her mother was always there for her 100%, making sure she and her little sister not only became responsible adults, but to help them thrive and follow their dreams as well.

As for Nicole and I, it's always been a very easy relationship and never forced. Her first summer in Dallas we chose to put her in a daycare. That only happened once! The summers that followed, I simply took her to work with me if I was unable to get time off. We'd go on sales calls together, or work in the office together, or she'd go to work with her dad until I could come get her. Other times she'd go with me to hang out with my girlfriends and watch us drink margaritas and gab away the time. Weekends we spent our time going to estate sales, with Nicole gradually being able to navigate the MAPSCO around the streets of Dallas. One summer she brought a friend with her from Kansas. Nicole proudly showed her friend around our home pointing out all the items that came from estate sales. At the end of the "tour" she and her friend plopped onto the couch and Nicole very straight forwardly announced, "So really most of this stuff came from dead people's homes". As horrified as I was, I was also extremely amused.

Watching her physically grow I still recall the year that she was big enough to help me carry in a TV credenza and looking over at her and realizing how grown-up, both physically and personally, she was becoming. I also recall the summer that I picked her up from the airport and noticed that her feet could finally touch the floorboard of the car!

One other memory before I wrap up. Nicole was 10 or 11 and we took her to Galveston Beach. One afternoon we decided to take a riverboat-type cruise around Galveston Bay. Like a lot of riverboats, this one had 2 tall decks. Nicole was uncomfortable on the top deck as the height was a little too much for her, and for me as well I'll admit, so we went into the enclosed area of the 1st level and hung out there for a bit. But I soon realized we were the only 2 passengers inside. So I coaxed Nicole back up to the top deck, assuring that I'd be with her and she'd enjoy the cruise. We found a seat in the middle of the boat and I told her to not look down, but instead, focus on the horizon. So there we sat in the beautiful sunshine, both of us looking straight ahead enjoying the view and the gentle breeze blowing our hair and our dresses, never looking down.

Looking back, I realize that had I "looked down" in 1990, it would have been so easy to walk away, but instead I knew that all along God intended for me to focus on the horizon, with that horizon being my future with Roger and Nicole.

To view more pictures from Nicole's graduation, follow the link below and choose "View Pictures", (no need to sign in!), then choose "View as slideshow" from the right-hand column.
http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=0AatGbFi2atWLnI

Slower than Molasses

2007-04-30T09:44:00.000-05:00

Waiting for spring to come to New England is indeed slower than molasses. A rather apropos analogy since afterall this is maple country.

The earliest indication that winter is "almost" over is the arrival of the robins. Never before have I been so thrilled to see the little orange-breasted critters as I am each March. Heck, before moving up here I never knew they even went away. Alas, the early thrill is rather short-lived, as it's not long before you see them trying to peck through 6-inches of snow to get to their buried snacks.

But then finally after several weeks of watching and waiting, and then more waiting, and more waiting - the forsythia blooms with a vengence. Like unruly school kids yanking off their jackets and tossing their books away, the brilliant yellow spikes are wild and bright!

Seemingly overnight, everywhere you look, the real sign of spring is forced in your face - at times almost too brilliant to look at. In fact, the drearier the day, the brighter the blossoms. Their backdrop being the dark green of the firs and spruces, and the grays and muted browns of the still to bud trees.

Some shrubs have been tamed into box-like structures to frame a tidy yard, but for the most part they're spiky and overgrown and absolutely stunning! And as the yellow flowers give way to green leaves, spring will indeed be in full swing.

God Bless Us! New Englanders have indeed survived another winter! Pancakes all around!

Happy Birthday Roger!

2007-04-24T14:17:00.000-05:00

As this is my inaugural post, I shall dedicate it to Roger, who is rather unwillingly celebrating his birthday today. Isn't he so very handsome!

While his birthday is actually today (April 24th), we spent last weekend enjoying a minor league ballgame (go fishercats!), followed by nachos and beer at a sportsbar in Manchester, followed by tacos at Margaritas, followed by Alka-Selzer (tm) at home.

This cellphone image was taken the next day at one of our most favorite spots - "The Black Cow" in Newburyport.

We hope you enjoy our musings and photos. We welcome your comments and greetings!