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adventures

adventures / Monday / photo — Comments Off
17
Jun 24

We’re in Mexico

We have a room with a balcony.

I can lie on the bed and stare at the sea.

Oh, such reveries.

On the one hand, we went from home to here in a day.

On the other hand, it took a full day to get here.

Pretty much everything that happened in getting here was my fault. We woke up this morning and I didn’t really have a good sense of our timeline. So I took a little too long in getting out of the house, just like I took a little too long last night in finishing my packing and cleaning.

We were going to use a park-and-ride lot, but there wasn’t enough time for that. It didn’t seem a problem at all until my lovely bride said “Drop me off at the terminal so I can check in our bag, go park and I’ll meet you inside.” So we’re calling audibles.

I did that. Dropped her off, got the checked bag out of the trunk, and then headed to the garage. At our airport, a large and old and tired and almost grimy feeling place, you have to then drive all the way around to get back to the parking garages. Each terminal has it’s own garage. Hopefully I parked in the right area. It’s a big place. A lot of driving. A lot of signs and lanes and it’s dark and, thank goodness not yet busy on the roads around the giant facility.

The roads weren’t busy because everyone was inside.

The Yankee has taken part in the TSA financial shakedown program. I pass through the security theater the old-fashioned way. The signs say I’m 41-45 minutes from security. The line goes around the corner, around another corner and halfway down a long, long hall. The doors close on my plane in 49 minutes. Thankfully, the blue shirts have a mandate to keep it moving when things back up. In times like these your shoes and your belt aren’t so scary and the best people are looking at the X-ray machines, so your devices don’t have to come out bags. Best of all, you just go through the old metal detector and not the slower back scatter machine.

They kept it moving. I made it through security in 30 minutes. That meant it was time to run.

So I ran.

The door on the jetway was closed, but only because the gate agent has to close it behind her when she goes down to do her count. She let us on the plane, easy as you please. In fact, another family came down after us.

We flew to Detroit without incident. From Detroit to Cancun I watched The Boys in the Boat — what if Disney did a movie about rowing crew during the Great Depression and then showed the kids from Washington beating the Übermensch in their home waters in Berlin, and what if all of the aters, Washington and Berlin, were actually English? Because it is a long flight, I also watched The Courier — what if Benedict Cumberbatch was a Cold War-era business man recruited to do a bit of spying for her majesty? Both based on true stories. Both good plane films. I’d probably watch The Courier again first.

Into Cancun without incident. Through customs in record time. That process has really changed. Take a picture, march on in. We walked by all sorts of customs and passport control booths and tables waiting for someone to say “Senor! Senora!” but they did not. We might not even be here, technically.

The Yankee had arranged a private shuttle to our resort on Playa del Carmen, and now we are here. Nice sprawling place, too. It is raining and windy. We are here to dive, starting tomorrow. In the last several days, though, a tropical storm has formed in this area. It has moved on, across the peninsula and heading west-northwest or so, but there’s still a lot of energy in the air.

But then when I sleep

Oh such reveries

adventures / Connecticut / Friday / photo — Comments Off
14
Jun 24

Our 30-hour tour of southwest Connecticut

Having come up for a quick visit yesterday, we slipped away under cover of rain and darkness tonight. And then went back, for I realized I had forgotten my wallet and keys. It was one of those things where I looked directly at them, said aloud “Don’t forget your wallet,” and then … forgot them.

I do a ritual pat down to make sure I have all of my things whenever I head out from A to B. This evening I waited until I was in the car, and we were leaving the neighborhood, before I realized I wasn’t sitting on my wallet. Well, then, quickly back up the drive, collect the essentials, give one more hug, and then slip off into the darkness and rain.

We outran the rain, and made good time all the way home. The GPS is set to military time, and the initial projection was an arrival at 00:00.

Today we had lunch at a waterside seafood hut. You know the sort of place. You, or one of the people in your group, worked at a joint like this in school. That person also lost nine pounds a week over the course of the summer owing to the fryer in the back, and no cool breeze anywhere. This place specializes in fried seafood. It’s OK. I get a shrimp sandwich and some fries. Hard to go wrong. But you go there for the quite views.

A half-block up the hill is a beloved ice cream stop. And woe to those who must read everything on the menu and the signage.

Some people just know what they want, and they can order it straight away. No need to complicate things.

Sometimes being a kid again is as easy as going to your ice cream shop and getting the usual.

We had dinner with the in-laws, and then I washed the dishes and then we prepared to leave, and then left again. (See above.)

We drove by the George Washington Bridge, a double-decked suspension bridge spanning the Hudson River, considered the world’s busiest motor vehicle bridge (carrying more than 104 million vehicles in 2019) and the world’s only suspension bridge with 14 vehicular lanes.

I mention that because I got a fairly decent, from-the-hip, between-the-trees-and-street-lights, nighttime shot of the thing.

I did the dutiful thing of reading all the news of the day aloud while my lovely bride drove. It’s an important job, entertaining the pilot.

Into our neighborhood, into the drive, collect the things delivered to the front porch and garage and mailbox and then, inside, to attend to the handful of things one must do before one calls it a complete Friday night, on Saturday morning.

And, now, wait for sleep.

Have a great weekend!

adventures / Connecticut / family / photo / Thursday — Comments Off
13
Jun 24

Special Church Thursday

Around noon today we left the house, later than we’d planned. We’re working against a genetically inherited attribute of being late that afflicts millions of Americans every day. I am one of them. The primary concern is one of awareness. As in, we have to be aware how we make other people late. But today, we departed only six minutes later than planned. For me, this is an improvement over the average.

Those six minutes also meant that — after lunch on the road, coping with the designed inability to change directions on this state’s busy surface streets and one quick restroom break — we arrived precisely on time.

We returned to my lovely bride’s hometown, where her mother’s Special Church program was hosting it’s end of the year party.

Let me just revisit this, so that you’ll understand the special woman that my mother-in-law is. She is a retired nurse. She has been running this program for 20-something years now. She runs it because she volunteered prior to that and it all just came to her. This program is not even affiliated with her church, and yet she puts an incredible amount of time and passion and spirit into it, because that’s who she is. And this, somehow, doesn’t get in the way of the volunteering at her own church — where she just recently helped plan and pull off a gargantuan wedding. It does not interfere with her looking after her older friends. Special Church also led to her joining the board of directors of a special needs home in the town next to hers. And that led to her serving a three-year term as the president of that board. People tend to gravitate toward her kind of selfless compassion. Special Church — which has snacks and crafts and a Bible word of the week and music therapy and more — brings in a handful of members every week, and my mother-in-law has built up an equally impressive roster of volunteers that help pull the thing off every week. Also, she has an in with Santa and he shows up every year. Well more than two decades of this, now. And she’s not stopping anytime soon. She’s an amazing person, my mother-in-law.

So we were there to see the end-of-the-year party, because it’s a relatively easy drive. The people involved are all lovely and there are many smiles and the music is good. A talented young man who is a music therapist comes in every week and brings a bunch of silly instruments for everybody to play, bang and smash along with his guitar. The minister sat in on the drum today. And it was hilarious to watch him keeping the twos and fours as everyone sang along to Margaritaville, and he did too. Everyone loves the music, most of it is played by request, or standards the group is accustomed to. It’s chaotic and noisy and perfect. It’s a free spirited, high spirited, animated part of the day for everyone. One of the members of Special Church comes to shine when it’s time for music. She always sings a George Harrison song. A born performer, she brings her own microphone.

Today I handed out ice cream. I sat back and watched the crafts and games. I chatted away with one of the many friendly volunteers. I tried to make myself useful cleaning up at the end of it all.

After Special Church, my in-laws, one of their longtime friends, the music therapist, his wife and toddler, two of the other family friend volunteers and the minister all went for dinner.

My in-laws have been regulars here for years now. We’ve been semi-regulars for almost as long, I guess. We held their surprise anniversary party here 40 years ago. It’s a charming little mom-and-pop establishment. Ten tables inside, four or six more out front. This is the kind of place that closes a few weeks each summer when the owners go on a well deserved vacation. For a long time it was strictly a family affair — husband in the back, wife out front, young-adult children waiting tables and running food. Their kids are, I think, off running their own lives now, but the husband and wife are still at the heart of things.

I usually get a marsala; today I tried the piccata. You wind up trying something off everyone’s plate, so my decision
making will get much more difficult on our next visit.

Tomorrow, I’m sure, we’ll go to another of the favored local haunts, and then it will be back on the road.

adventures / baseball / family / Monday / photo — Comments Off
10
Jun 24

Dance, then baseball, now old

On Saturday we went to high school. I can’t remember the last time I was in a school. Probably a dozen years or more. We visited one because my god niece in-law (just go with it) was in a dance recital.

I wasn’t really paying attention to the exterior of the building as we pulled up, but I did notice this near the door. When was the last time you saw a pay phone?

If you look closely enough, you can see there’s no receiver. So maybe it isn’t a phone anymore. Maybe the school just dragged it out there and it is waiting for a garbage pick up.

The school, from what we saw, seemed nice. Very big. Old school. Hallways full of plaques marking their distinguished alumni. Some of the plaques were a little basic, but others were quite remarkable. A lot of professors and authors and civic leaders. There was a music promoter, and a touring manager for U2. There was someone who won the Nobel Prize in economics. The inventor of Lipitor went to school there. The state’s first black attorney, a man born a former slave soon after the Civil War, was a student there. His plaque said he got paid for his work by bushels of food. I’d like to have time to read more of them.

But there was dancing to watch.

Our dancer took part in two numbers, a ballet and en pointe. She looked great, danced with nice confidence and had a lot of fun. Had we all not had favorites, everyone in the auditorium would have chosen the two little girls that opened the recital as the stars. They were two young beginners, wearing shimmering three-tone tutus, mimicking what their coach was doing from the floor. They were adorable and stole the show. But all of the numbers and dancers were delightful in their own way, and they kept things moving.

I’ve been to two dance recitals. The first was a two-day recital, if you can believe that. Every group was organized by age, and they all danced to the same song. We heard that same bad song dozens of time. I was working on the video production, which meant I had to be there. It was a lot of standing, no food, and that same horrible song several dozen times. I am quite certain it scarred me. This weekend’s show was much shorter, had a unique song and style of dance for every group, and it was over in a little under two hours. It was a much better show.

After dinner we all adjourned to the ballerina’s home. That evolved into a big baseball game in the front yard. All of the adults sat in lawn chairs and watched the kids play. And me. We had plate music and everything.

This became a two-hour game. Usually because the kindergartner had to dance to his song, “Texas Hold ‘Em.” And we had no pitch count. A pitch count would have moved things along, but most of the kids were too young for that.

The day’s star dancer hit two huge home runs off of me. That’s what happens when you grove your pitches. There were also a lot of little league home runs. After everyone else went inside for snacks, the 9-year-old boy and I stayed out to play catch. (It was a little bit special.)

I was in a dress shirt and not-the-right-shoes for all of this, and so I was sore the rest of the night and tired most of Sunday.

Yesterday, I was admiring the new growth on the pine trees, (Pinus strobus, I think).

We have three in the backyard. They are growing tall and close to the house. They help block the late afternoon sun. They can’t stay forever, but we enjoy them now.

And the sky was just so casually brilliant …

It was worth noting.

It’s time, once again, for the site’s most popular weekly feature. We must check in on the kitties.

Phoebe was nice enough to pose, ever so briefly, on the landing this afternoon.

I’m a real sucker for when she puts her face on her paw.

Poseidon has recently discovered the lamp I have behind my computer.

He came to quickly realize that the light bulb gives off a fair amount of warmth, and so he’s never leaving.

Now, the only way I can keep Poe from that spot is to not turn on the lamp.

He knows cozy when he sees it.

So the kitties, as you can tell, are doing just fine. They’re ready for another fun week. As am I. And i hope you are, too!

adventures / errands / photo / swimming / Thursday — Comments Off
6
Jun 24

The Smith Zoo and Nature Center

We had three-plus inches of rain last night. Everything stayed dried that needed to, I think. I still try to walk around and check most things after the big rains. This was, I think, our third overenthusiastic participation.

This afternoon I had yet another adventure in the 21st century’s second most annoying innovation: planned obsolescence. The details do not matter. You, too, know how these stories go. This is my third such instance in the last few weeks. It’s tiring and bothersome.

Here’s the fun part, the experience today took me to somewhere I hadn’t been. When I left I had nine percent of my phone battery and I needed to use that for the map. Also, I was running low on gas.

I worried about a scenario where my phone died, and then I had to improvise a fueling strategy. I bet you can’t even buy a paper map anymore. Lewis and Clark explored the continent with more resources than I had today. They’d be proud of how I overcome the adversity. It involved getting to the interstate, choosing the correct direction, avoid the interchanges to other highways, and then guess where my station of choice is located, which is one or two exits down from the house.

I made it to the station with 50-some miles in the tank. I got home with two percent of my phone’s battery.

The Smith Zoo and Nature Center got a member today, this cute little box turtle.

Last month this frog, a big chonky specimen, stopped by for a while.

Before the frog, we heard from a noisy fox for a few nights in a row.

In between the frog and the turtle, the reptile wing was completed by two visits from a 4- or 5-foot rat snake, twice. (Not pictured, for snake reasons.)

The frog I escorted to some woods. The turtle moseyed it’s way off all by itself. I took the snake away the first time, and then two or three days later it came back. I annoyed and startled it off. If it comes back again I’m going to herd it into a bin and drive it to the woods, some miles from the house. Maybe I’ll drive him around in a circle for a while first, to dissssssorient him.

Splashed around in the pool today, and then I did some swimming. It was another day of 1,000 yards. Three of those in the last week. So I’m going to up the distance next time. Because, I thought, when I’d finished, That was easy.

And later in the evening I thought, Maybe it wasn’t.

Of course, the only thing I’ve eaten today was a bowl of granola this morning.

Now I just have to remember how to use the underwater camera again. Not every button’s purpose has been memorized by my thumb and forefinger. I guess I should use it more.