So Many Memories!

 Today was sort of a day in "the wood between the worlds." I could not see well enough to do anything, and I also didn't have the energy. I seem to be a bit better this eveing. Everyone just says I have to be patient.

That desk I started sorting is stuffed full of old greeting cards and letters. I can't see enough to actually sort yet, but you may see a few in the future. It's nice to see reminders of the people who have cared for us through the years.

I was wanting to showcase some today, but I just don't have the energy.

See True Blue Gumby II

I've Got (Half) a Ticket to Ride

 The big local news is snow.

We are socked in. But that's not the focus of my day. This is one of those stories that goes on so long it becomes ridiculous. I've been trying to get a train ticket East to go to the 2025 Flower Show.

I started trying to get a ticket yesterday. I already knew the Amtrak web site is bad, but how bad? I could get the round-trip ticket and the correct dates etc in my cart, but could not pay for it. I also could not see the return trip times. That seemed worrisome, but I used their live chat and it was explained to me how to see that, which I then could do.

Kept trying to pay for the ticket. Of course, after 5 minutes the site times out. Tried to log in, but it said I don't have an account. Well, I did... so I wonder how long that lasts before they dump a customer out of their database. Ran out of time before Monica picked me up yesterday.

Started trying again today. Created a new account Tried in two different browsers. Still no way to actually pay for the ticket, and every time you have to start over because it times out. Tried to get help through the chat. Explained it all. They bumped me up to a supervisor. Explained it all again. No go. That person told me to call the 800 number to make my reservation.

Ten minutes on hold. Their voice activated system could not understand me saying the word "reservation." Last I knew, I speak standard English. Lady with thick Spanish accent finally came on. She said I sounded like I was talking under water, and she could not understand me. She hung up.

I installed the Amtrak app on my phone, loaded in all the info for the trip yet again. It would not take a payment.

Called the 800 number again. Got a robot named Julie! This is possibly good. It speaks English. It took the reservation and quoted me a price that was double the online price. I hung up.

Tried the web site again in both browsers. No. Tried the phone app again. I got it to take my payment!

The e-ticket arrived and it is one way.

Well, I'm going East at the end of February. We'll see if I am returning. I really can't tolerate working on this any more today. I've already spent over two hours.

This is the kind of thing that makes me absolutely NUTS.

Now, here's what I really wanted to share today. I had posted this picture once long ago on Facebook, but then I couldn't find it. Well, the original slide is somewhere, but I knew I had it digitally. It just wasn't filed where it belonged. Anyway, here it is!

This is from a Girl Scout campout either my junior or senior year in high school. I actually don't know most of the girls because it was some kind of council exchange thing where our troop went and camped with another troop.

I have no idea who owned the truck. It was borrowed for the occasion, but my mother agreed to drive it. My mom had spirit! She is sitting on the running board.

The woman standing on her right (picture left) is Delores Bush, the school librarian who was our assistant scout leader. She was rigid and severe at school, but had a fun sense of humor and spunk when one got to know her.

I am sitting top left in the picture with my hands on the head of Vienna Louma (nickname Vanilla. I was Chocolate, and another girl with red hair- not in the picture- was Strawberry) whom I met at Camp Comstock. She was from Ithaca. Sitting next to me is Faith Hiltbrand, a friend from school. She died a couple of years ago. The only other person I recognize is Lexi King of Trumansburg who has her head sticking out of the cab window (or maybe she's standing on the running board).

The truck makes this look like it's a scene from about two centuries ago instead of only one! We didn't care. It was a truck to haul our tents and gear, and we had a blast. Thanks to whomever trusted the ladies to borrow it. I'm wearing my standard out-of-school uniform. Jeans and t-shirt. See My Natural Habitat

I am pretty much in a snit about the ticket. Edited a little, but I'm busy snitting. See you tomorrow.

See Sunrise from the Train

Like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego

  We are switching campgrounds tonight, although that was not my plan until after lunch today. We're going to Bible Club Camp today. See link below for more of that story if you want.

As you may have figured out, some of the sorting we are doing wasn't high on our priority lists, but the the flood in the basement changed all that. Every single thing had to be moved, and now it has to be put back somewhere or disposed of.

Now I need to back up a lot of years and tell you another story. This was somewhere around 1972 or 1973. One of the teenage boys who lived with us off and on was helping me do some things. I had sorted some stuff (does the sorting ever end?) and had made two piles, one to keep and one to burn. I told Dan to take the discard pile out and burn it. He asked me which pile (they were in another room- the basement, actually), and I said, "You'll be able to tell." Well, that was my mistake, and I've had to blame myself ever since.

To his credit, at one point Dan realized he had the wrong pile and he brought the rest of the items back in the house. But a number of letters and some other things were gone forever. One of the things that was gone was the workbooks from all my years at Bible Club Camp.

These had no intrinsic value except perhaps as curiousities of the era. But they had a lot of sentimental value to me. And they had gone into the burn barrel.

Of course, you've now figured out what happened today. I found the whole set of workbooks. They must have been tucked into these shelves for decades. They were even moved from our old house to this one without being noticed. My innards surely did a leap when I saw what these were.

The books always had the theme song for the year, with the music, in the center. I've looked through the books, and I can still sing several of the songs.

Each book also had pages for the daily Bible lessons, words to other songs we sang, an autograph page, and other things to memorize. The center spread was a sticker page. Each year, you got a sticker each day for completing the Bible lesson and one for learning the daily verse. Then there was a sticker for "things you should know" (like the Apostles Creed or the pledge to the Christian flag), one for completing a camp craft during the week, and one for participating in recreation. That was required, so I suppose everyone got that. If you got all the others, you got the Honor sticker. You know me, I got all the stickers every year. I still like stickers and patches.

I'm sure the actual situation is that these books didn't get burned all those years ago, and somehow I wasn't aware of that. But it sure feels as if they had walked through the fire with those men of faith and Biblical fame.

In other news: I suddenly got the itch to start getting serious about the plot for Vacation from Dead Mule Swamp. This one will take more research than the others if I can pull off the idea I have in mind. At any rate, I wrote a tentative opening and started rereading the book that gave me the general idea. I also did laundry and puttered a little bit.

See Memories from Bible Club Camp

A Rediscovered Treasure

  While I was looking for something else yesterday, I found some fabric things that had been stored away that actually aren't ruined. One of the bags had some bedding I'd made for the youth bed Steve slept in for several years.

Let me tell you a funny story about that...

When he was under two years old, we would be awakened in the morning by this toddler trying to climb into bed with us. This was pretty strange, since he'd been put to sleep in a crib in a different room, and the side of the crib was still up. One morning, I got up really early to spy on this little escape artist. He was simply climbing up the corner of the crib (not an easy task with no cross bars between the uprights), balancing on the top rails and then dropping to the floor.

Yikes! OK, we had a frame for a small youth bed. It was only a foot off the floor, not four feet. Much safer!

I made one set of sheets for it from some kid-patterned fabric. Also made a flannel blanket from an old one we had. I decorated the patches with machine embroidery. We really didn't have any money.

But what I want to show you is something my Mom, Catherine Leary, had made for Steve. She embroidered the edging on a crib sheet and pillowcase set for him when we got him (at six months of age). Bunnies! The sheet is on the right, and I angled the pillowcase on the left.

Why was this not worn out, you ask? Well, there's another funny story. Except it was more frustrating than funny when it was happening. For a long time- quite a few months- when Steve was maybe 9 to 12 or 13 months old, he refused to keep anything on his body or in the crib with him. He'd be put to bed with a triple diaper, pajamas, crib bumpers, sheets, blankets, etc. In the morning, there would be a completely bare-naked baby in a puddle on the plastic mattress cover and EVERYTHING else would be on the floor. So, the sheets didn't get much wear.

The youth bed was the same width, just longer, so I added some fabric to the end of the crib sheet, and opened out the pillowcase and added a larger backing. Here you can see the handiwork closer.

This is rather remarkable, because Mom didn't often do handiwork. She did some needlepoint, but mostly she felt inferior because her mother, Granny, did SO MANY kinds, and of such high quality. I know I didn't appreciate how much love Mom probably put into this project for the only grandchild she got to enjoy in babyhood.

In other news: I edited in the morning, went to the Post Office, and worked on a pet project in the afternoon.

See Little Squirt See Sunbonnet Sue

The Lake that I Love

 
Cayuga Lake. My lake. This is home. 40 miles long, two miles wide. The big blocky building is the Miliken Power Plant (named for a former Michigan governor), now decommissioned. You could see this from my home.



We did go swimming. It was so hot that this activity was almost a requirement rather than recreational. Actually, we went back to Sheldrake. Even though it is posted, all the locals still swim there. The sign is mostly because of the bad current off the point. We stayed well inside that. In my opinion all beaches should be small smooth flat stones like the Finger Lakes beaches, not sand. We picked up some pretty rocks, and I found one fossil, a crinoid. If I'd hunted longer there were possibilities of finding horn coral, brachiopods, and even trilobytes.


And, I promised we'd get ice cream which we did. I had Sleeper Awake (coffee and chocolate), and Marie had Boomberry (raspberry ice cream with blueberries, raspberries, and strawberries). Definitely yummy, and it helped with the cooling.


This is the school I attended from kindergarten to 12th grade. It's still in use as an elementary school, although the district is consolidated. It was built in 1924. My kindergarten room was on the first floor on the left. But the use patterns changed when an addition was built, so that was also my high school English room!



And Dick finished the second of my trailer metalwork projects. The propane tank holder is now removed, and the spare tire is mounted on the hitch. Hooray!



Tomorrow more playtime. I promise there will be hiking eventually, but not quite yet.

See Memory Lane

Memory Lane

 
We are in my hometown. I'm not sure that I actually mentioned that before. It's sad and weird and good to be here. The day began with going to church where I grew up. The good thing about that is that because of the virus, they are using the big sanctuary where there is enough room for people to keep appropriate distances. The church celebrated its 200th anniversary this summer.



We toured the entire town (which takes about 5 minutes), and also drove past the house (outside of town) I grew up in. It was built by my grandfather. I was really happy to see that it's being taken care of well. A lot of houses aren't. They are old and historic, and otherwise money pits.



We also drove down to Sheldrake Point on Cayuga Lake. This is where I learned to swim. Swimming not allowed there now, but we went for a little wade. A very hot day, and tomorrow is supposed to be worse.



We chilled, visited with Dick and Darla, and contemplated the places we want to hike. But we're not going to start that tomorrow in 90 degrees. I think swimming and ice cream might be on the agenda!

See Western NY and a Table

Hymn Sing and Concert

 
Maybe you remember that I went to a Don Wyrtzen concert last year on Labor Day weekend. Well, it happened again this year in a slightly different format. This year was a combination concert and hymn sing, which I liked even better!



I don't understand why the church these are held in isn't packed out. Wyrtzen is quite well known. But I'm not going to complain- it really makes the evenings more intimate. He comes to this small church because he's friends with the pastor's family.



The pastor's father led the congregational singing. Although I have to say, not much leadership was required. These people really sing! Wonderful! I'm a much better participant than I am a spectator.



The pastor's sister is an opera singer, and she did a couple of songs.



It was a wonderful, worshipful evening. It has personal meaning to me as well. I told that story last year, and if you want to read about it, see the link below.

In other news: I had a real hard time getting moving this morning. Finally did so, and fooled around with a bunch of stuff. Need to get ready to leave on Friday.

	See Don Wyrtzen Concert
if you like this blog, click

Sunbonnet Sue

 
I have mentioned from time to time that my grandmother, Emily M. Rowe, made a large number of quilts. Some day I'll tell you more of the story, but today I'm going to show you one that isn't really a quilt, it's a comforter.

This is the Sunbonnet Sue pattern, and this was the quilt that was on my bed until I went to college. Granny embroidered the blocks and checkerboarded it with the "Indian" print.



This week I came across two more of the quilts she made that I still have. That leaves one more that I know of that I haven't located yet. I'm trying to get them in one place, and then I'll decide what to do with them. I put this on my bed, contemplating using it for a while. But the fabric is too fragile. It's ripped in quite a few places. I'll wrap it up again. I'm not ready to get rid of this one yet.


Today was calm and productive. I wrote, I worked on sorting pictures from the hike I'm writing about. I did some other stuff around the house. I'm not sure I've spoken a word all day. Perfect.

	See Lone Star Quilt
if you like this blog, click

Don Wyrtzen Concert and Memories

 
About two weeks ago, I heard about a concert being given nearby by a well-known pianist. I couldn't figure out why he was giving a concert in such a small church, but I knew I was going to go, and go early enough to get a good seat.

The musician is Don Wyrtzen. I knew the program would be good, but not only is he a great pianist, he's a good teacher, and he is funny.

Here he is explaining how playing music involves your whole body-- eyes, ears, muscles and emotions. That is why music is so powerful.



My camera was on the wrong setting, so I didn't get a single good picture of him actually playing. This is the best of a bunch of bad ones.



Probably his most familiar piece is a worship song, "Worthy is the Lamb."

I found out why he was playing at that church. He's friends with the pastor's family. The pastor's mother is an accomplished pianist herself (playing with Wyrtzen on a couple of pieces), and the pastor's sister is an opera singer. She did two of Wyrtzen's songs as part of the concert. Excellent all around.

He was gracious enough to let people take pictures.



Now for the memories part. Don Wyrtzen's father is Jack Wyrtzen, the founder of Word of Life Ministries. They operated camps in the Adirondacks, and I got to go to the "Ranch" one summer. I was just young enough to squeak in, which was exactly what I wanted. The "Island" was for teens. Although I was a teen, I preferred to do things like ride horses, shoot rifles (yes- and I earned Junior Marksman), paddle canoes, and stuff like that. This is probably not a great surprise to you.

That time at the Ranch set in motion vectors which determined a number of things in my life. My counselor in the Wagon Wheel cabin was a girl, also named Joan, nicknamed Pinky (center in the picture- I must have taken it since I'm not in it). She and I remained friends and wrote letters throughout my high school years. The fall after camp, she was headed for Taylor University as a freshman. Three years later, I went to Taylor, where I met Om, and the rest... well you know the saying.



It was a pretty special evening.

In other news: I got out and cleared the last mile of my trail that Cathy and I didn't get to on Friday.

	See Trail Work Day
if you like this blog, click the +1   or

Adventures on the Way Home

 
There was one more place I wanted to hike before I left Ann Arbor. It was my favorite hike when I lived there for grad school- partially because it was close to where I lived, and partially because it's a lovely trail. You couldn't do the full loop when I first moved there, but then the city opened Bandemer Park at the north end and opened a closed bridge to the public.

After that you could walk on both sides of the Huron River, and make a loop of about 2.5 miles. At first, some was on sidewalk, but now it's all trail.



I always enjoyed seeing the kayaks, canoes and sculls on the river, but now there's another water sport that is making itself heard. Paddleboards.



The west side of the river is more like urban path. Part of it is paved multi-use, but on the east side, the side I walked with dear little Chips almost every day, is an amazing oasis of natural pathway in the city.



Along the way, I passed the cabin that belongs to The Society of Les Voyageurs. Lots of great memories there. I stopped in and one of the student members was home. So I introduced myself (I'm considered an Alumni member) briefly and got to see some of the repair/remodeling work that has been done in recent years. I've been to some events with this group since I've been blogging, but maybe not at the cabin.

This is also a nostalgic oasis in the city. Since "we" own it, the city has to put up with the Society, but the large Argo Canoe Livery is across the street and next door is a park. We have this prime little corner of real estate, and have had the cabin here for almost 100 years. The city just has to continue to grind their teeth.



I actually lived just a couple of blocks up the street. Here's the house I shared with four other people. My room was the upstairs right window (and the window on the side). It was a small room, but I loved that space. It was a great place for me to spend those grad school years. Close enough to campus and stores to walk, but close enough to the river and trail to not feel like city.



On the way home, I stopped once for ice cream- Espresso Express flavor. Then when I got near home I stopped again to get in a few more miles on the North Country Trail. Just went south from Timber Creek and back, but added 4 miles to my Hike100 total, and the day.



Summer leaves are pretty well developed. Spring wildflowers are gone. But I found half a robin egg.



So I walked 6.5 miles today. The four miles ups my Hike 100 Challenge total to 28 miles.

Tomorrow I need to hunker down and write!

Bandemer Park trails and Argo Nature Area trails loop- 2.5 miles
North Country Trail, Timber Creek south to Wingleton Road and back- 4 miles

	See A Weekend with Friends
if you like this blog, click the +1   or

Memory- Points to Hold

 
Yesterday, you saw some of the changes happening across the road from me. Today, I learned that a favorite tree of mine has been cut down. Yeah, it was geriatric and probably dangerous, but I liked it. A few days ago I shared an aerial view of our previous house here, which is now gone. The dorm I lived in for my college years is gone. The first two houses Omer and I lived in are gone- one demolished and one burned (neither of those when we were still living there).

I know that nothing in this world lasts, or even really matters. And yet, I feel a strong connection with the house I grew up in, the one my grandfather built. If something happens to it, I'm going to feel a true sense of loss, even though the barn is gone, the property is sold several times over, and my dad's garden is now a workshop and swimming pool.

Pulled this off Google Street View, so I'm pretty certain that unless something serious has happened quite recently, the house is still there.



Here's the house when I lived in it (picture about 1962).



Still amazingly like- the wood shingled porch has been kept and the white paint. I have to wonder how the inside has been changed though. I've heard some things about the beautiful woodwork, so I have no interest in being granted an interior tour.

The maple that creates a shadow on the left side of the roof in the older picture is gone, but the catalpa, just leafing out in the old picture- left of the house, is now completely dominating that side. I did a lot of jumping out of that tree, and stringing of tarp tents between it and the missing maple.

Some of my favorite trees from that era are also gone. They might be a tale for another day. Today, I'll just show you the Google view farther north of the house.

The line of trees and bushes are along the unnamed and seasonal creek. You can see the culvert going under the road. From the road on downstream for probably fifty feet was (is?) a stone sluiceway in which I used to play. Below that was a small almost-pond. I actually could swim in it in the spring- well, I could get wet and splash a lot. Below that was where I went fishing in my new rubber boots. The tree with a reddish cast is the hybrid cherry where my swing and treehouse were.



There are some places where I desire change and crave new experiences. I think my houses is not one of those. Although much of my childhood was not particularly happy, I love that house. Odd, eh? Thanks for taking this journey with me.

In other news: wrote chapter 13 in The ABZ Affair.

	See Sunshine Bungalove See the fishing picture
if you like this blog, click the +1   or