I looked out my bathroom window yesterday to see the scene in the photo above of my neighbor’s house to the north.
Based on having been a homeowner myself for 40+ years, I’m guessing Brian tried to knock down some icicles.
Now YA and I have a pool going to see how long it takes for the balls to return to earth. I say four days; YA says two.
Any projects that with hindsight just weren’t going to work out well?
The cabinet guys come on Monday so I’ve been slowly but surely emptying the kitchen and breakfast room so they can do their work. In the breakfast room, along the windowsill, I found one of those temporary hooks filled with face masks. Various designs, although a preponderance of black. This kind of “put up a hook and hang stuff of it” is right up YA’s alley so the only surprise was that I hadn’t noticed it earlier. This is in addition to various other places we have masks, including a little pocket of them in my car.
Then later the same day, an Amazon package got delivered and YA came up stairs with two boxes of covid tests (I almost typed COVID-19 because that was the protocol at my job but now I don’t have to, do I?) When I asked YA why she got them she said “we’re running out”. There was a lot of testing around here when YA had covid in July and then we were seriously exposed the end of August, and then the first weeks of December to make sure my cold was really a cold.
In the last two weeks I’ve been to the theatre and to a concert. The concert required a mask and the theatre recommended (and I complied). YA and I mask on planes.
The new normal feels like it has snuck up on us, although considering we’re 3 years in, it’s kind of a silly way to think. But if you stop to think about it, most new normal do sneak up on you. I could never have imagined today’s technology and medical advances when I was a kid.
Anything you never thought you would ever get used but eventually did?
People ask me a lot about my opinion of Hawaii. I suppose I do know more about our 50th state that the average person. By luck of the draw I had almost 25 programs to Hawaii during my years in the travel industry. I didn’t travel on all these programs but I have been to the islands a whooping 17 times, most of those times to Maui.
What I tell people about Hawaii is that every island has a different topography and a different personality. I usually talk about the difference between Hawai’I (the Big Island) and Kauai. The Big Island is the largest, the youngest and the most volcanic. If you haven’t been to Hawaii, then the picture you probably have in your mind is Kauai. It is much older and encompasses the lush green image we all carry around.
But I don’t talk about Oahu very much; Unbelievably with all my Hawaii programs, I never had a program on Oahu. No particular reason, just luck of the draw. This means that almost every time I have been on Oahu, it’s because I’m in the Honolulu Airport, transferring to an interisland flight. While my brain knows what Honolulu and Oahu are about, it was still a surprise to be there for three days.
We stayed in the Waikiki area because we didn’t have a car so needed to be in a walkable part of the city. This is part of Oahu that has earned the name “concrete jungle”. It is block after block of tall buildings, very high end shops and restaurants and traffic. It could almost be any big city IF you can ignore the beautiful blue sky and warm weather as well as the folks on the streets. It’s an amazing amalgam of business folks, obvious tourist (YA and I) and the huge number of surfers and counter-culture types. Waikiki is right on the water so you can walk along the main thoroughfare and look right onto sandy beach and blue waters. There is even a zoo (who knew)… we were actually able to walk there as well.
One fun thing we saw in Honolulu that I’ve never seen on other islands – people putting leis on statues. Most of the statues along Kalakaua Avenue and Beach each have at least 10-12 leis placed around their necks; all the leis are in various stages of decay, so it’s clear that people are adding them, not some program of prettification by the city.
So now I have good experience to describe Oahu and Honolulu the next time someone asked me about the islands.
Tell me about a place that surprised you.
Renee’s question a few days ago about things piling up made me think about YA and I heading off on our trip two weeks ago.
We got to the airport a little early; we were expecting the traffic to be much worse as it had started to snow. Check-in and security went pretty quickly. TSA has some new equipment so you don’t to take your laptop out any longer, but thanks to the shoe bomber (anybody remember that – I do as I was out of the country when it happened and security had seriously ramped up on my way home), I think we’ll always have to take our shoes off.
We loaded on time then sat for a bit on the tarmac waiting for our turn. Then the captain said we had to get de-iced and so we waited some more for that. Then we waited our turn again. Then the captain said we had sat around too long and needed gas. As we turned back to the gate we heard the news that the airport was closing down. Since we were now just one of many planes returning to their gates, the airport was short on snowplows, so we sat some more. By the time we actually got to the gate, it had been 3 hours since our initial departure. I had a sinking feeling but it was a direct flight and when they de-planed us, they said we could leave our stuff on the plane. I wasn’t too worried and now we had time for a decent lunch.
After another hour, the gate agent made an announcement that the airport was re-opening and they were going to board us soon and quickly so we could get ahead of the line. Another hour goes by (no rush boarding) and then the announcement is about how long the pilots are allowed to be on schedule; they have to either new pilots or perhaps get a new flight plane that shaves off some time. Another hour goes by and then suddenly an entirely new flight crew shows up at the gate and gets on the plane, followed by a quick departure of the original flight crew. Just the crews, no pilots.
Finally they put us back on the plane, but surprise surprise… by the time we pushed back from the gate, they said we had to be de-iced again. It seems as if just about everything but mechanical problems had happened and the cynic in me was expected an announcement about that as well. But we did eventually get de-iced (I’ve never been de-iced on the same plane twice in one day) and 7+ hours after our scheduled departure, we were wheels in the air. My inner cynic hadn’t quieted down yet so I was kind of expecting a turbulent fight, but it was very calm and uneventful, with no further surprise announcements from the cockpit. Instead of a 4:30 p.m. arrival in Honolulu, we were off the plane at 11:45 p.m.
Window or aisle? Pretzels or cookies?
YA and I are on what we are calling my retirement trip. This travel is made possible by my old company (her current company) using “award credits” that we’ve been amassing the last year and a half. Wonder where we are?
On Thanksgiving morning, while enjoying my coffee and watching the parades, I discovered that there is a popular musical comedy on Broadway right now called Six – The Musical. It’s about the six wives of Henry VIII. Really? Of his six wives, only one truly survived (Anne of Cleves) and came out of her marriage debacle in relatively good shape. So now we have a musical about a wife cast aside, two wives beheaded, one wife dead from childbirth complications and his last wife, while surviving, also dead in childbirth after marrying again to a man whom history suggests only wanted her because she was the Queen Dowager. Somehow all this death and destruction doesn’t seem like the stuff of comedic song and dance. (Of course who would have thought the plight of five women accused of murder in Chicago would make for a compelling musical?)
If you look up “historical fiction” you’ll find definitions that all seem to include any story that takes place in the past but that’s just silly – unless it’s sci fi, set in the future, wouldn’t every book written be historical fiction after about a week in print? I’ve always thought of “HF” was any re-working of a historical subject/figure. Like Hillary Mantel’s book on Robespierre and Danton during the French Revolution (and all her Wolf Hall books as well). Or King at the Edge of the World by Arthur Phillips. Or The Other Boleyn Girl by Phillippa Gregory. And I haven’t read Nefertiti by Michelle Moran yet, but I’m pretty sure it’s mostly fiction and very little historical, since even Egyptologists admit to knowing extremely little about the ancient queen.
As these books sell well, I worry that future generations will think of the plots and characters as more historical than they really are. Of course in looking up Six online, it looks like the plot doesn’t even attempt to portray history, so hopefully no one will come away thinking that wearing a choker to represent that you got beheaded is a meaningful fashion statement.
When was the War of 1812?
My father loved buttermilk. Unfortunately my mother did not. This meant that my father didn’t get buttermilk very often because my mother just didn’t purchase many things that she didn’t like, even if someone else did. She was in charge of the kitchen, the shopping and the cooking and there just wasn’t room in her cart for things she wasn’t going to consume. Fish, liver, brussel sprouts, mushrooms – none of these ever saw the inside of our fridge.
So my father would often order buttermilk when we ate out. This got troublesome occasionally. At Perkins in particular, he always asked for buttermilk and was always told they didn’t have it. He would immediately point out the buttermilk pancakes on the menu and ask for buttermilk again. It didn’t matter that every single time the waitstaff explained that the pancake mix already had the buttermilk in it, he just couldn’t understand how you could have buttermilk pancakes but not have buttermilk.
I was thinking about this a few days ago. I had a morning appointment up in Robbinsdale and the doctor agreed to an 8 a.m. time slot even though the office didn’t normally start taking appointments until 8:30. To thank her, I stopped at a bakery/coffee shop up the street from the office to pick up coffee for both of us (and a doughnut for myself, who are we kidding). It was quiet in the bakery; I was the only customer. From where I was standing, I couldn’t see the cream/sugar nook so I asked the guy behind the counter. He pointed out a table in a corner but then said “but we don’t have sugar”.
I was sure I had heard him wrong so I said “you don’t have sugar?”. Nope, they had sweetners, but no sugar. I started to suggest that you can’t have 20 kinds of doughnuts and pastries along with cookies and cakes and not have sugar but then I remembered my dad always haranguing waitstaff about buttermilk and I decided to zip my lip. But five days later, I’m still wondering about it. No sugar in a bakery?
Any little mysteries bugging you this week?
This chess game has been ongoing for a couple of years – in the front yard of a house about 15 blocks up from my house. I’ve always been intrigued by it, mostly because I’m not a big “decorations in the yard” type of gal.
The other intrigue has to do with the fact that my natural instinct is to say “the cat is going to crush the dog”. My second instinct is to say “why is the bird watching so intently?” Personally I think watching games like chess and GO are akin to watching the proverbial paint dry.
Personally I like dice games because if you lose, you can always blame it on bad luck with the dice. Aggravation, Sorry, Parchesi, even Monopoly. I know the rules of chess and GO but haven’t played either for years. I’m also fond of trivia games.
Do you think cats are better chess players than dogs?
Yesterday Bill mentioned the disappointment that Botticelli’s Venus isn’t shown to it’s best advantage in its home in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence. I know someone who was disappointed at seeing the David by Michelangelo in that same city; she thought that many fewer people should be allowed into the gallery at any given time so that it is quiet while you are observing the statue. I also know several folks who were underwhelmed by Stonehenge; they feel it is too close to the highway (technically the highway is too close to Stonehenge) and there is a chain link fence along the road that runs up to it. And of course I did have a client once who just didn’t love Paris the way he thought he should. He couldn’t explain it at all and felt a little sheepish about it.
One of the days I was visiting Pat in Nashville, we drove down to Chattanooga for a day. After we’d gone all through the huge aquarium there, I told Pat I wanted to see the Chattanooga Choo Choo. After all – why not. I’m guessing if it took me 66 years to get to Chattanooga the first time, I probably won’t get another chance!
We turned on the GPS… we were only about 3 miles away but it was downtown traffic so we wanted to be sure. A left turn took us to the back of a hotel where there were some older trains but there wasn’t an entrance so we turned back. A right turn after the hotel was the same… train cars but no entrance. The front of the hotel has mostly pay parking and there was no signage whatsoever for the CCC. We finally parked in a questionable spot and I called the hotel itself. The gal who answered the phone said you had to go through the hotel lobby to get there. Hmmmm. We left the car in our questionable space and traipsed into the hotel. It became clear immediately that this hotel had been the train station at one point but these days it is in sad shape and most of the retail spots in the big open atrium are dark.
If you walk all the way through, you do indeed come out to the train yard and the CCC is right there but that’s about all there is to say. Not clean, not spiffed up, no signage, no speakers playing the famous song. No little café serving coffee with cute names and no gift shop with magnet and postcards. All the other train cars in the yard are in very sad shape; a few look like there might be some refurbishing going on, but I wouldn’t bet any money on when it will actually be finished. As long as we were there, Pat snapped a photo of me in front of the engine, proof that we had actually found it! Truly, the model of the CCC in the hotel lobby was more impressive than the actual train itself.
Luckily since we hadn’t thought about looking for the CCC until that morning, neither of us had any great expectations so it wasn’t nearly as disappointing as it could have been. I think it’s the big build up in our expectations that causes most of our disappointments – at least it is for me.
What would you call a coffee drink at the Chattanooga Choo Choo Coffee Shop?
Yesterday was World Kindness Day.
YA and I celebrated (although I’m not sure she even know it was Kindness Day) by heading off to the Botticelli and Renaissance Florence exhibit at the Minneapolis Art Institute. It was a nice exhibit; not as much Botticelli as I would have liked, but I suppose the Uffizi in Florence didn’t want to completely empty out their galleries for us! YA wanted to see this one
(unfortunately it stayed behind in Florence). She did talk me into buying a magnet of it for the refrigerator though!
Afterwards we went to Hola Arepa for brunch. I had the Fried Egg Breakfast – the Arepa version of huevos rancheros with two great sauces and yuca fries. It was really scrumptious but made even better when half way through, YA suggested that she pay for our meal. I accepted so quickly that she laughed. NEVER before has she volunteered to pay for a meal in a restaurant for us.
I’m putting it down to World Kindness Day although I’m not sure YA was in the know!
Any kindnesses to report?
Trail Baboon 