Yoke completed

I spent some time finishing my cardigan up to the yoke before we get on the plane back across the Pacific.

I will be knitting the front bands on smaller needles to help prevent drooping. After they are attached, the collar stitches are picked up and it's finished. 

Now which side do the buttonholes go on?

My purchases

We shopped on a street for toys, stationary and outdoor clothing. I didn't trust the sizing on the long underwear, but did pick up  some inexpensive made-in-Korea goodies: colored pencils, eraser, unlined spiral pad, hiking socks, gloves with electronic connection tips and a fleece bill cap with drop down ear flaps.

So close

This is a wonderfully connected, modern city but still close to the Red Horde.

Our hotel room has emergency backup supply and gas masks. Every subway platform has a cabinet with supplies, just in case.

The train and platforms has TV screen streaming a news channel. There seems to be a lot of interest in the movie "The Interview".

H

Two nights in Lugano

Lugano is a lovely place to spend two nights.

We arrived on a train from Milan, crossing into Switzerland, early Sunday afternoon. We were able to roll our bags down to the hotel, a ten minute walk.

After settling in, we walked stairs beside an abandoned funicular train downtown.

It was drizzly, but not too cold. No one was around. We found a place to have spaghetti.

The next day we went up to the campus. It was a nice walk from our hotel.

Notice the Irish pub where my husband and I had lunch.

That night the Christmas market opened. It was alive with people celebrating the season. We ate an early dinner in an enclosed sidewalk cafe where the heaters were running.

My son has been admitted to the college there. We are still waiting for other colleges. At this point, Lugano is my sentimental favorite.

Eggnog

The bottle comes out on Christmas Eve to complete the eggnog.

To loved ones near or far or missed.

At the end of the evening, the bottle returns to its high perch to age another year.

Anyone remember the Paramount Dress Shop in Flushing?

MoM used to shop the sales racks at the small town dress shop. I may have bought my prom dress there.

I hadn't thought about it for years.

I found some nice things in this store in a redone downtown mall. I

 "Creative" versus "Paramount". How times and marketing have changed.

I'll take "Creative".

I love a sale, but

It pains me every time I see this rack in my local store. What I would give to be a size medium.

A whole new meaning

Frustrated with the mildness and additives of picked peppers, my husband put up a few jars this fall. We have plans to grow lots and lots of peppers next season.

While visiting family recently, we enjoyed a brunch at a "gastropub". I spied the infusion locker off the back hall.

I think these jars, labeled "spicy", are infused vodka destined for bloody marys.

Gives a whole new meaning to picked peppers.

What you see on an airplane

This fellow spent part of the flight editing a version of "Up on the Rooftop". You know the one with Saint Nicholas and the reindeer?

He must have been on his way to a convention of colon cancer doctors.  He was in charge of the entertainment. I guess that you have to be there to get the jokes.

He got hungry and ate a salad picked up on the run from Wolfgang Puck. His doctor would approve.

My seasonal passion

I decided to really indulge in Christmas socks this year. Whenever I'm in a drugstore and am tempted to buy Russell Stover's dark chocolate coconut Christmas wreaths, I give myself permission to buy a pair of Christmas socks.

The multiple color yarn in this pair proved problematic. The yarn inside didn't stretch like the knit. The Santa face was particularly binding.

I snipped the threads and I can put them on easily now. They may not last a washing, but who cares?

Ho! Ho! Ho!

It's looking like it's permanent

I am spending some time reflecting on the goals set out in my original post.

I find that I am choosing to stay close to my family rather than commute or live apart. Thus I am unemployed. At my age, this may be permanent. There are so many quandaries and implications.

I don't miss it.

I don't have to worry about commuting. I'm snug at home when the snow flies.

I don't miss it.

I don't have to worry about staying on the good side of the department chair. He no longer controls my fate.

I don't miss it.

I don't have to worry about the semester end: giving exams, watching for cheaters, grading, calculating, double checking, rounding up only to have frantic email exchanges.

I don't miss it.

I don't have to worry about searching job ads. I don't have to package myself to what I think they want.

I don't miss it.

It was a choice. Notice that I stated that in past tense. I may not be able to point to the moment it was made. I have removed myself from the job market.

My life is happier, healthier and richer in so many ways because of it.

Saw a fellow walking down the street

As I was sitting at my computer looking out the window onto the street, I saw a fellow walking down the street carrying a red folding chair bag, leading a puppy on a leash and tucked under his right arm was a kitchen sink.

What could it mean?

The playground

It is eerie to walk around the playground at night. I am all alone, but the lights are blazing.

It really isn't that late. In the summer at this time of night, it would still be light. There would be lots of people still out.

Walnut Street

I can walk on Walnut Street all year round.

Winter Concert

My son played marimbas on a percussion section feature, "Deck Them Halls", arranged by Crockarell. To get the flavor, here is another group doing it in 2007.

He played piano on "Pulse", by R. Standridge.

His years of piano lessons and recitals have a continuing impact.

He had quite a presence.

How do you peel an orange?

I am right-handed. I can't think of anything that I do with my left except for peeling an orange. I use my left thumb as a lever.

It makes me wonder how I was taught to peel an orange.

Was I taught to peel an orange?

I'm over-thinking this, eh?

I love where I live

When I sit at my desktop computer, I look out over the street. I see many things.

Today a Volvo station wagon parked in front of our house. I frowned and grumbled. Parking is dear around here, particularly with these snow banks. I know we don't own the parking in front of our house, but I guess I'm possessive.

Why are they parking there? They can have it for 24 hours, that's it, no more, then you have to move on. 

Why are they parking there? I watched as a father and pre-teen daughter got out. He lifted the back of the wagon and took out a Red Flyer sled. 

About an hour later, they were back, snow covered.  I imagine they were cold. The sled went into the back, they climbed in and the Volvo pulled out.

Do you think lunch with hot cocoa was next on the weekend agenda?

I love where I live, good access to the best sledding in the "City of the Hills".

My son driving

My son loved driving this cart around his cousin's home.

My backyard

A journey through autumn, looking out of my back door:

If you don't have flash, click through to the album.

Getting a driver's license

Growing up in suburban Michigan, I couldn't wait to get my license.

Now my son doesn't care if he ever gets one. He gets around town just fine by foot or bike. There is good bus service in the county, but he hasn't used it. His father or I drive him anywhere out of town that he needs to go.

He plans on living in an urban environment with a good public transportation system.

I panic thinking about it. How will he get to the grocery store?

Then I think back to a choice I made that MoM expressed doubts about: going to math grad school. Her response was "Where have I failed?" She saw nothing but her experience in public high school teaching. I saw a great challenge, pushing beyond where she was able to go.

And so it is with my son. We have tried to live our lives in an way that was not auto-centric. We really don't need to jump into our cars every time it snows to rush to the grocery store to buy milk, bread and snack foods. The inside joke in our family is that when it snows, you have to rush out to buy cheese doodles. My son always thought it was a made-up name until I showed him there actually it a product by that name.

My son is taking the next step. He may or may not be able to rid himself of the car culture.  But he will give it a try. I wish him well.

Walk in the snow

I bundled up and put on my reflective vest to walk downtown in an inch or two of heavy snow.

It's blooming again

The Christmas cactus is blooming for the second time since I brought it inside.
We're waiting for a winter storm. My son is predicting early dismissal today.

I had to get out

The sun was shining. I looked at the weather forecast. The next winter front was coming in.
I don't care if I was still coughing. I could bundle up.
I had to get out. Like Maria in "The Sound of Music", the hills were calling.

Shakespeare, the international brand

Following up on yesterday's post concerning the difficulty of translating a poem, the Christian Science Monitor had a great article about efforts to translate Shakespeare into Chinese.

Much more difficult that translating poetry, Shakespeare is meant to perform. There are new efforts at translating the plays.

Such is the challenge facing the translators whom the Royal Shakespeare Company (RSC) hopes to recruit to come up with fresh and catchy translations that will speak to modern Chinese audiences.
The plan, says RSC spokeswoman Liz Thompson, “is to have the writers and translators and interpreters embedded in the rehearsal room with the director and actors, watching them working on the words” as they prepare English language productions in London and Stratford-upon-Avon.

Maybe we could plan a trip to see the Chinese production due in 2016 of the "Merchant of Venice" on the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death?

A une Damoyselle malade

Radiolab did a show on translations. One segment was on Douglas Hofstadter's 1998 book,  Le Ton Beau de Marot, where he seeks to translate a poem by Clément Marot. It is an ode urging a sick princess to get well. As a visual learner, I sought out the original text and found this site useful.

A une Damoyselle malade

Ma mignonne
Je vous donne
Le bon jour;
Le séjour
C’est prison.
Guérison
Recouvrez,
Puis ouvrez
Votre porte
Et qu’on sorte
Vitement,
Car Clément
Le vous mande.
Va, friande
De ta bouche,
Qui se couche
En danger
Pour manger
Confitures;
Si tu dures
Trop malade,
Couleur fade
Tu prendras,
Et perdras
L’embonpoint.
Dieu te doint
Santé bonne,
Ma mignonne.

While I'm not eating my jellied toast in bed, I am seeking to get well.

The pieces merge

After returning home, I'm overwhelmed with unpacking, laundry, grocery shopping and car repair issues.

My plants need lots of watering. I'm eating oatmeal to make up while I was away.  I forced myself to get out and record a walk downtown yesterday which I did not want to do.

I'm fasting this morning before routine blood work.

I'm fighting jet lag and a cold.

I've done three rows on the yoke of my cardigan. I messed up on the pattern for the body because I didn't used the fishernet stitch on the sleeves. I ripped it out several places. I think I'm on the right track now.

One of my needle points cracked where it screws onto the cable so I had to visit April at my local yarn shop to order a replacement.

Until I can get a new one, I'll have to swap the points as I turn each row.

I haven't wanted to write. So this will have to do.

One hundred and three

That's how many posts I've published. I missed the big 1-0-0 while traveling.

I'm trying to say something witty about 103.
Yes, it's a prime number which means it can't be broken down into smaller number factors.
I really can't think of anything in my jet-lagged fog.
Anyone care to contribute? This doesn't have to be a monologue.
That's what I thought.
So another day.
Talking to myself.

The light up the hill

Now that the leaves have fallen, we can see our uphill neighbors and the light in their window.

Death and ...

Every year at this time we get tax bills on empty land inherited from my husband's parents. We keep this land as a legacy for our son. When we are really concerned about our financial security, we say that we can retire there. We can put up a house, grow some vegetables, maybe have a few chickens. The thought never stays long, but it works as a plan B or C or D.

We get three bills because the land is split into three parcels totaling about 16 acres. Taxes on all three are less than $76. The amount seems obscenely low. It really isn't the amount of taxes or that we don't have a say in voting on the taxes. Each year I look and see 24 taxing authorities or special levies detailed. I'm happy paying $1.56 (on the 10 acre plot) to support the local libraries, but the minutia drives me nuts.

So I decided to try to understand it. I haven't really done a good pie chart since first week in basic stats class last spring. Why not?

I researched the entries and categorized them. "Schools" is the largest category. That's a good thing. I agree taxes should support schools. Then "Community" includes the airport, various community centers, a park and the agricultural coliseum complex. I imagine that's the county fairgrounds, but they can't possibly call it what it really is.

The other category that requires explanation is "Health/Environment" which includes the hospital district and mosquito spraying. There is also something called "Forest Acres". I'm not quite sure if that is a park or nature preserve. We spent about $1 towards support of it. On further consideration, I think this is a state tax based on the fact that the empty land isn't cleared for agriculture.

Looking at the chart. I'm not dissatisfied at how my taxes are spent. I will get online and direct my bank to cut three checks to send to the Sheriff who is also the tax collector.

Keeping track

The cardigan sleeves are coming along. It's easy to keep track of the pattern which repeats every four rows, except with the honeycomb which repeats and shifts after four rows.

The problem I'm having is to remember to increase every inch at the sides of the underarm section.

It's like playing a four-four march with every seventh beat you yell "Yeah!".

Scoping out Expo 2015

One of the reasons we are spending a couple of days in Milan is to scope things out for next summer when the World's Fair, Expo 2015, will be in Milan. We are planning on visiting as part of our round the world trip celebrating my son's graduation, our 30th wedding anniversary and my 60th birthday. But do we need a reason to plan a great trip?

The coffee company Illy has commissioned four designed cups for the Expo. I bought a set yesterday at the big department store laRinascente. I figured that it might be easier to take them home now rather than next trip. 

The bad news is that after we decided that the hotel we are staying at would work for an extended visit, they announced they were all booked and to monitor the web site for cancelations. The rooms are going for three times the current price, more than the fancy chain hotels!

We are re-thinking our strategy. In the meantime, I will be enjoying my cups.

Knitting in the lobby

Our room is just off the small lobby. I know that my husband spent hours through the night sitting here and reading while I slept. We have now switched places as breakfast time passes into the day. I knit as Mozart on "Music through the Night" from back home streams into my earbuds. "Buongiorno" and "Chio" are exchanged between the front desk and departing guests.

Last minute

I have a pattern of what to do last minute before we leave on a trip. It often depends on the time of year and length of stay.

So I have to turn down the thermostat and take out the garbage, but not before everything is thrown out.

I've loaded the dishwasher and it's started. I decided I'd better wipe the counters. Then I stare into the refrigerator. We'll be gone six days. What do I have to throw out or put into the freezer? These are hard decisions. Do I really want to conduct the experiment of leaving it until we get back? Is it wasteful to just throw it out? So often it's triage: can I put off dealing with it right now?

Yuck, took out the garbage before emptying the coffee grounds.

All this while thinking about the storm we will be driving through. No snow here yet. Looks like the airport is fine. The plane we are taking is now over the Atlantic coming in from Frankfurt, scheduled to be 14 minutes late. Not too bad.

Assembling a bag of fruit and graham crackers for the car.

Off to gas up the car.

My husband works until noon. I hope we can get off sooner.

SSI called

That's Survey Sampling, Incorporated. They wanted my opinion on financial institutions. They asked for me by name. I answered a few preliminary questions. When we got to the point of asking me about my employment, I hesitated. I answered "currently not working" rather then "retired". They ended the call. My opinion wasn't needed.

My thinking is evolving on my state of employment. Maybe I should say I'm retired. If a good job comes along,  I'll say they enticed me out of retirement.

Happy Thanksgiving

Gratitude is the sign of noble souls.

- Aesop

An afternoon at the McNay

On a grey day in San Antonio, we visited the McNay Art Museum. Some of these pictures are from the special exhibit, "Intimate Impressionism".

If you can't view the slide show, click through.

A gift

I like this:

Diabetes offers a gift: a real reason to take care of yourself. Slow down, eat right, exercise, and treat yourself like the treasure you are.

-Diabetic Living, Winter 2014

It didn't stay put

In the ongoing chronicle of the strip of land in my front yard, here is what it looks like now. The yard crew and wind blew off most of the nicely piled leaves.

In search of a German restaurant

We left my son for the day at Trinity University. My husband and I decided to take the bus out to a German restaurant that he had found online. We made it to a second transfer point when we arrived as the bus was pulling out. We decided to chase it with hopes that it would be slow in traffic for a short while. We came close but didn't get it.

So we decided to walk. Google maps had the walk at 3 miles distance and one hour time. There was miscommunication. My husband thought it was a mile.

Walking allows time to talk. It was a pleasant temperature and partly sunny, so we weren't uncomfortable. Well, except that I wanted to find a place to stop.

You can follow our progress using this Google earth video. You need a plug-in for your browser. You can stop it and use the tools to pan around the location. 

So adding commentary with times on the video:
:04 bus transit center
:19 We were tired of the pedestrian unfriendly roadside and decided to head through the more residential area. Note: the orange and white roof on the Whataburger at the corner. We don't have them around us now. We often stopped when we lived in Texas. They had great Christmas trains in the kid's meal when my son was young and really into trains. Second note: Should have stopped there.
:33 big Catholic school complex
:46 finally stopped
1:00 Note: we had to walk through parking lots as there was no good sidewalk
1:02 We really wondered which way to go. This section was a river wash which we could walk, but we couldn't see if there was a deep water crossing. The bridge at street level had very little room on the side of the road and no place to jump.
1:04 There was a nice park at an historical ranch sight on the other side of the bridge.
1:06 On the other side of the road was a very good looking Mexican restaurant specializing in chiles rellenos, one of my husband's favorite dishes. It was tempting to stop.
1:08 This intersection was so new, the pedestrian crossing signs were up, but not working yet. The new road construction was more pedestrian friendly. The next section had several gated communities.
1:19 There was a entrance to a large commercial sight on the right. Turns out it also fronts on the perpendicular street that our destination was on.
1:23 A city water sight with limited access so we crossed the street.
1:25 The big building is a Hobby Lobby.
1:26 We made it before the lunch specials went off and just as the drink specials came on.

We found a table with good access to electrical plugs to recharge our devices. My husband had roladin and I had a reuben with fried egg, mustard instead of thousand island dressing.
We had coffee and one Germain chocolate cake with two forks for dessert.
I had no guilt. I had earned those calories.

Table rock

Above my husband's college is a formation called Table Rock. I've been up there a couple of times. With most of the leaves gone, the view is fully open.

I'm going to have to work on finding gloves/mittens that work with my walking sticks. My hands were cold.

I'm taking better care

An advantage of not rushing out the door to a job every morning is that I can take time to take better care of my teeth. The dental hygienist gave me a good report.

A night walk in the snow

It was a lovely walk in the lightly falling snow. I walked in the park where there was plenty of light from the street lights. No one else was out. I had to tuck my phone into my pants pocket so that it wouldn't get wet. I was able to stream my local PBS station the entire time. The heavy coat of many colors that I made twenty years ago get me warm and dry. I was sure footed with my walking sticks. I walked 2.21 miles in 51:55 minutes.

My glasses fogged up.

Couples walking together

My window overlooks the street which often has pedestrians on their way to the park or coming back. There are many dog walkers and young families with strollers.

I am drawn to the couples walking together. It isn't easy to adjust the pace to keep together on our narrow sidewalk. I do often see couples with the woman often several steps behind.   Once I winced when there was a man yelling over his shoulder at the women behind him.

I smile when I see couples who are able to hold hands and carry on a conversation.

MoM's 79th, November 18, 2006

Miss you, dear sweet MoM.

Sisters

We had a sister weekend. This wasn't the picture I posted to Facebook.
I needed time to reflect and delight in it.

Can you see the resemblance?
The black pants rolled up to the same height?
The marked flesh recently released from tied shoes?
The big toe curving in?
The next one as long as it?

And our differences?
Her polish?
My unshaved calves?

For too short a time our waves intersected.

Live-blogging a day of travel

7:00: I have posted on the blog. Took my pills. Downstairs to have breakfast and clean up the kitchen.
Got side-tracked: watered my plants.
Laundry folded and put away.

8:30: Finish packing. Trying to do just carryon so I must limit myself: 3 days = 2 changes. One will be clean enough to re-wear. Room for my walking shoes - got to protect my feet.

9:10: Shower and dress.
Stopped to listen to Elgar's Enigma.

9:52: Doing some online work, like uploading my meter readings. Checking mail and FB.

10:15: My husband went to check on some things at work. My son and I are trying to figure out when to eat.

10:18: He's back and we're ready to load the car.

11:45: We're on the road. Sunny and clear.

1:00: On parking bus.

1:25: At gate. Flight delayed. Our connections are tight. We'll see what happens.

2:15: Plane is here with maintenance issues. 

3:05: On board. About 40 minutes late. 

5:11: Made it. My son stayed at the gate to pick up our gate checked bags. I raced ahead. They caught up with me just as we got to the gate. 

We really wanted to make this flight because we have business class seats on a dinner flight.

7:20: Watched Colin Firth in Woody Allen's "Magic in the Moonlight". Meal was a hit sandwich. Not so great.

7:10 CST: Knitting over Port Arthur, birthplace of my husband who is asleep beside me. 

8:00: Landed but no gate for us. Waiting for one to clear.  

8:33: Quick stop at the United Club.

9:00: First Class to San Antonio.

10:05: Landed. Waited half an hour for the hotel shuttle. Lineup at check-in.

11:30: I'm tired. Finally bed.

First snow

This is the early morning on our back deck.
It has been a lovely fall.
There was a notification on my weather app from Syracuse, which is not too far from us. A record latest seasonal 32 degree temperature and the longest growing season was posted. The last time it was freezing was April 29th.

Sanford library paste in the Utopian jar

An ad from the National Geographic Magazine from May, 1920, struck my fancy. To use the Utopian jar, keep the center well half-full with water. It will keep the paste moist and ready to use. 

Sanford is the largest writing products manufacturer in the world, including the Sharpie brand.

A big shout-out to Jennifer Kennard and her blog Letterology for background information about the product and a warning to those who may be tempted to eat it. 

Note to self: Go back and spend some time with this blog.

YMMV

I have been reading knitting instructions in vintage book and online downloads. I have noticed that most modern instructions include a disclaimer. I realize that it's not just an attempt to get you to buy the sponsor's yarn, but to prevent a lawsuit. My sister described such lawsuit inoculation as the corporate mindset. There are rules and you do not allow for individual variation.

I knit like I cook. I grab what is available and work it in as an individual, spontaneous expression. I ignore the rules.

So you are warned: YMMV, "your mileage may vary".

Searching for the Chinese restaurant on Youngman

I had a lovely hike this afternoon from the park over to the other side, away from the school where I usually walk. It was sunny and clear, no hint of the winter storm hitting the midwest, heading this way. I was determined to find the right path. I had heard that you could follow a path that ended up by the street where there was a Chinese restaurant.

With most of the leaves off the trees, the blazes on the paths are easier to spot. There was internal struggle as I got a mile up. Do I turn around and return the way I came or do I trust that I will find the right path? About that time, a fellow with a dog crossed in front of me. I waved. That must be the path done the other side. There was no sign of him went I got there. The path down was wide and easy. It must have been an old logging road.

I soon was able to see houses below and hear the traffic. And there it was. Youngman Street. I tucked my poles under my arm. I walked the rest of the way on the sidewalk. 

If you can't see the slideshow, click through to the album.

not-that-Carol

That's how I sign frequent emails. I don't think of my name as being so common, but in this technologically connected world, it doesn't take long to bring us all together.

Gmail started in 2004 by invitation only. I asked my brother to send me an invite. I looked back and my first message from Gmail is dated 11/22/04,

"First off, welcome. And thanks for opening a Gmail account. We hope that Gmail will become something you use everyday."

Ten years later, that hope has been realized.

The address I signed up for was of the form: carol.last@gmail.com. The period separating the names is unrecognized so that any mail addressed to carollast@gmail.com comes to me. I get quite a bit of it and not just from commercial email accounts but from real people trying to get in touch with some other Carol.

I have received photos of someone's great aunt and somebody else's kid on the soccer field. I am on the email list of a symphony in New Zealand. One Carol wanted to buy property in Georgia and one was car shopping in California. I get invitations to hen parties in Pennsylvania and fundraiser picnics at Lismore Castle. There have been notices that I rented a car in Florida. I was cc'd on an email giving Father Tom comments on the order of service for a funeral.

And the latest, if you care to look at the picture, the Royal Mail successfully delivered to me a package from FIVER LONDON LTD.

The sad thing is that I'd love to chat with the Carol in Pennsylvania or Georgia or California or New Zealand or England. I just don't know her correct email address.

Porch pepper

I have two pots of peppers, with buds, still on my porch. I may need to get a greenhouse so that we can have fresh peppers through the winter.

Weighed at the doctor

I went to see my doctor last week. I haven't been on the scales in a couple of months.  It was good news: I have lost the weight that I gained while commuting over the last two years.

The doctor, a gynecologist, was able to read the computer record from my primary care physician, including the resent lab results. He expressed concern that my blood sugar levels were too high and stated that uterine cancer was higher in women with diabetes.  I resented his comments. I got out of there as fast as I could and am happy that I don't have do go back until next June.

I wanted chocolate, but I didn't. It wouldn't have hurt him at all and it would have hurt me.

I know there is reason for his concern, but I also know I'm making progress.

Gulasch suppe

I was introduced to gulasch suppe when I visited my sister while she was studying abroad in Austria. Along the way, I picked up a cookbook that has the recipe.

I've been thinking about traveling with my sister, so I decided to make it this week.

If you look carefully at this picture, you will see a yellow/orange tinge to the page. As I pulled down the fancy paprika in a small zip lock bag, I also brought down the turmeric which was in an adjacent bag with the zip not zipped. So the book, and my counter, has this lovely colored haze now.

I have been cooking with my pressure cooker lately, mostly making chili. It cooks the beans so much faster. So I decided to make the gulasch suppe with it.

Note to self: Don't cook baking potatoes in a pressure cooker.

It turned out more like reddish, lumpy mashed potatoes, just not suppe. It tasted really good.

I got a vest

I took the article "10 Ways to Get Killed When Walking After Dark" to heart and ignored number 5: "Reflective Gear Is So Garish".
I'm styling.

The unopened envelop

You may remember that we visited the lawyer to have our wills drawn up. He has sent them on for us to review.

The letter with two forever and two Abraham Lincoln stamps  remains unopened. Neither my husband nor I really want to face the next step. It took 30 years to go this far.

Maybe today.

New Island

I finally made it to New Island, an almost inaccessible land between the highway and the south side commercial development. I can't quite imagine how it is an island. After some research, I found that a local professor and his students published studies about it in 2002. One student documented how the river has changed course over the last few centuries. It was an island between the now-gone manmade Electric Lake and the Susquehanna River.

Most of the length of the trail is on the top of a railroad bed above wetlands. I wasn't able to find out when the railroad was used or abandoned, maybe when the bridge was washed out.

I have four pictures of the trail and bridge remnants. It's hard to understand what a between world New Island is.

If you can't see the slideshow, click here.

Walking in the dark

Often my day gets away from me before I do my walk. Sunday was the day we turned our clocks back so when I went out, at 5:30, it seemed like the middle of the night with the moon shining on empty streets.