Musings & Memories Montage Telling My Stories and Discovering Your Stories
What I did on my Friend's Summer Vacation ... Episode #1 09/12/08
(This is not the first thing we did ... but in view of yesterday, this is what I choose to post first.)
Also Titled: 9/11 Watching a Friend Remember her Friends
I recently went to NYC with two friends. My friend Barb is (like me) not from New York but (unlike me) she's become fairly adept at taking her visiting friends and family to tour around NYC. My friend Linda has lived in New York City (or nearby) for about 25 years. I cannot understand the layout of New York City so I was simply enjoying following my friends around. We do not live down there and I only visit about three times a year. While we were out, Barb convinced Linda to swing by St. Paul's Chapel.
Linda admitted she had not been down there since 9/11. Barb told her there were many mementos. Linda decided that since I had my new camera with me, it would be a good photo op for me. I was snapping shots of the city and content with whatever came into view. I think they were also needing a break from the heat and from worrying over whether or not I was going to trip (again) or get run over while photographing everything in sight.
The moment we walked in, we were overcome. It was good to be cooler. We sat down. We were not ready to look at the mementos and photos but ... it was not because of the heat.
The items on display, I am certain, represent only a very small handful of the items left at and on the fence of the church in memory of friends and family. The church faced the Twin Towers. Still, no one spoke out in normal tones. Everyone was hushed. Even on a random Thursday, almost seven years later, there were people in the chapel.
Linda is a storyteller. She quietly began to tell about the day. She was at work. From her office, she could see the skyline of Manhattan (aka a part of NYC). She saw the smoke. She knew she was losing friends. She went home to be with her daughter.
I could not leave the story. I could not leave and wander about as Linda's tears began to slip down her face. They were the kind of tears that sprinkle down ... a gentle, healing sort of tears ... not the violent sobbing of first finding out. I tried to photograph the chapel's beauty while sitting there and a few of the mementos. And Linda continued with her story.
She told of her friends who were lost as they were husbands and fathers. She told of her friends as widows and mothers. She told of the care the children are receiving. She told about what it was like to wait for over a year to have just one portion of one bone bring closure.
As Linda talked, she became more beautiful with every falling tear. There was a softness in her love for them. There was beauty in the love of her friends in every role life had brought them. Her face and voice reflected their beauty, their love.
It was getting late, I needed to hurry if I was going to photograph any of the memorials. I lifted my camera again. I wanted to take a portrait of Linda. I could not, would not interrupt her to ask (she would not have said yes) and I would not just snap a shot. It would have been an invasion.
I made a quick tour but now I could not bring myself to look closely at the mementos. More, I couldn't bring myself to photograph them closely. I felt I was on sacred ground and invading everyone's intimate expression of love to/about their loved ones. Most of all, I did not trust myself to stay together if I did examine them.
We walked outside to leave. The skies were getting ready to rain on us. They tell me there's a hole in the ground. I do not need to see it. There are much larger holes in the fabric of the families and their friends. I have seen just a very very small section of that fabric. This is what it means to live in New York: Very large holes ... everywhere. Much of the fabric that holds these holes together is strong and committed to remembering the beauty of the love lost and love found ... and ... from a distance ... one could almost pretend ... it is simply a beautiful lace.
So ... I walked down to the cafe this morning with a determination: Write three pieces for various spots on the web ... then I could walk home. The faster I wrote, the cooler my walk home would be. I dressed for the worst possible outcome. On the way home, A fourth piece of writing attacked me. I share it with you first.
The Epitome of Summer
Bare feet traipsing down Small-town New York clean sidewalk In new morning air
Moving from shade cooled to tepid sun-warmed concrete on grainy ripples
Navy walking shorts ponytail clipped high on head Cool hot-pink tank top
MP3 Country Sunglasses in rounded style Joyful smirking smile
Hand dangles sandals The other lifts bottled toast Of sparkling grapefruit
Loaded luggage racks Escaping to the country Canoes and kayaks
These passing caravans With joy, cheer, & gleeful speed Return her toasted wave
Half century passed her Still moving barefooted with Mischievous smile
This week the prompt over at One Deep Breath was about bridges.
here to there; far, near low to high; short, long, longer connect and divide
Yes, that whole strip in the top image is a bridge. Click on it. Then, when you get to the album page, click on the magnifier (right of the "share photo" link). The second bridge is the bridge from the swamp to the hill in the section of the Appalachian Trail that we run away to. I bet you can guess which bridge inspired which words. But the division thing is from this quote a gentleman said to me. "Pam, there are three things that will divide families, communities, cities ... bridges, bodies of water, and train tracks."
If This is God's Will -- Where's the Joy? 04/10/07
Well, there's a little problem with asking a storyteller a question: Storytellers don't answer questions with three words or less. PLUS You will always get a very very long story if you ask the storyteller when she's starting to feel alive again after spending a week cooped up, isolated and feeling like a pile of cold, cooked spaghetti noodles. (Really.)
Plus we all know I have this meme affliction wherein I twist every meme to meet my own objectives.
Can you give one example of a time in your life where joy welled up so much inside of you that it had to spray out, sprinkler like, on anyone who happened to pass by?
My very, very first thought was of the incredible experience that carried us from Oregon to New York. (I had wanted to go back to Texas but ... )
How many people do you know who have nothing ... nada ... zippo ... ZZ-EE-RR-OO in the bank account and no reason to believe money is "in the mail," "winging it's way to you," and certainly "we're in the money" is not a phrase they know?
Ok how many of those people would paper the nation with a resume and cover letter claiming to be able to "self re-locate" at that very moment -- in that very condition?
We did it with my husband's resume -- with a complete trust in God that He was perfectly able to make it happen. The very first clue that this was a perfectly fine idea was how the two of us felt about it's very existence. It's birth was the first time Billy and I had been on the same page in almost a year. That out of sync feeling that had been so disconcerting suddenly disappeared.
I want to tell you that from the time the phone rang 30 minutes after the first resume went out until we moved into our current apartment 90 days later -- every single moment of every day was filled with contentment, peace, joy ...
Yeah ... and I'd have to lie in order to tell you that. It was full of struggle, suspense, doubt, anger, fear, hurt, separation from my better half, etc. Of course, this drama was only one of six extreme drama's going on all at the same time. Oh yes ... when we do drama, we do it up right!
So, how is it that I reached a point of "sprinkling" joy everywhere? Because God is good ... Great ... AWESOME !!!
If you start at the beginning of the story and read all the way through, I created a page just for that: Our Moving to NY Story
You will find most of the dramas listed in this post: A Banner Week. I started my blog a few weeks after I sent out this "Dear Everybody" note.
The overview to strictly the moving story and some of the conclusion is in A Moving West Coast - East Coast Story. It also has footnotes with links to the hair-raising details of the money story. If you are looking for some courage to believe in God's care, I strongly suggest you find those footnotes.
The joy part? :: smirk :: Seek and ye shall find. It's a perfectly grand story that deserves it's place in time. So, I encourage you to persevere to the end.
I used this as an opportunity to go back and put these posts back in order the way I want them read and I turned on the commenting for each post.
It is perfectly legal to bookmark the story and come back to read in bits and pieces.
The Weekend Words Challenge is a meme created and curated by TheOddMix. The object is to either apply the words to your weekend photography or apply your photography skills to capture the weekend words. You will be surprised what happens when you hold just a couple of words in the back of your mind and bring your camera up to your eye. But then sometimes it doesn't click until you sit down and browse through your shots. Sometimes it's a combo deal.
NO! It is not required to generate a haiku poem, also. That's just my current frame of mind.
Anyone can participate. The words for the weekend are available by Friday and often sooner. And technically it's a Monday Meme.
What you probably don't know about how I function in the PC world: My husband and I share one laptop by swapping two different hard drives in and out. The monitor on my otherwise perfectly good pc went out.
Here's the thing ... well a couple of things ...
We ordered a monitor.
It was scheduled to come in today or tomorrow from OfficeMax.
Billy needs to pick up a cable and a power cord for it.
We are having a snow/ice storm.
I kind of don't expect delivery of the monitor until this thaws ... next week.
No way Billy is going to go trapesing around to find a cable, etc.
Billy can work from home using his laptop
I can't use his laptop with my hard drive in it at the same time he's using it.
I have an old rebel laptop that refuses to die.
Rebel is slow and it's pixels are going gray. In fact this very line has a horizontal gray line straight through it.
Most of my writing is on the other hard drive.
It is possible, with effort and searching, to create an ensemble that will allow me to access the files on the other drive via Rebel.
You want the really short version?
I've been kicked off my favorite / speedy pc.
I'm limping along.
I'm building a contraption that will let me access all my files.
I'll see you much later this afternoon or evening.
Ok this week once again had no web focus. I don't mean I wasn't on the Internet. I mean I was and yet had no focus. So ... you get more photos to focus on.
Each image opens a larger image. This time there is no compelling reason to open the larger image unless you want to see a little better.
At the bottom of this post you'll find a link to a photo page on my site where you can just click through the titles in order. That way you won't have to keep jumping back and forth between the images here and the larger images there.
I really know very little about the Appalachian Trail ... So again ... feel free to fill me in.
Snow Strolling
Twice now we've taken the trail west from the Appalachian Trail train platform on the Harlem Line. The trail eventually turns south over towards the Hudson River. I love this portion of the trail because even though it starts out looking rather la-de-da and oh so normal ...
Beam Balancing / Grass Stalking
It soon turns into a trek through the swamp ... designed to challenge your balance. Yes that's a balancing beam. In the fall, it's not frozen on the right side. And I also love those really tall grasses. I have no idea what they are. Do you?
Cinder Striding
Then we have cinder blocks to walk on. No, the swamp isn't frozen in that spot and, yes, one slip and it would have been very cold.
Beam Bopping / Pallet Prowling
One of my very favorite turns through the stalking grass includes a cinder block to beam to pallet transfer. Billy went in in the fall -- not so cold then but still he was glad it was on the way back to the train.
Post Meeting
White stripes like this on poles, trees, and rocks mark the trail. This pole has at least two faces. Do you see them?
Plank Walking
And then we get two planks to walk on for a distance. This trip the swamp was fairly frozen in this portion. Last trip Shelbie dog loved wading in the water.
Creek Bridging
Then we cross a little creek on a nicely maintained bridge. The light changes very rapidly up here unlike in Texas (Very bright) or in Oregon (very dim) ... so I ended up with two very dark snaps of the bridge.
Bridge Posing
Then Billy saw his chance for a shot at of me.
Green Glistening
This is an attempt to capture the creek (again). The water is only green in appearance because of the vegetation. It is actually very clear.
Twig Catching
It fascinated me how the snow could pile up like that on litttttle slender branches / twigs.
White Wandering
Oh, I forgot to tell you ... after the bridge there's a steady climb up a hill. I believe we are going to have to get a very decent map of the trail so we can talk about elevations and the like. Anyway the trees are as beautiful dressed in snow as they are in fall colors.
Winter Farming
This is the scene once you are over the top of the hill. Let me tell you ... it was Blinding White!
Hotwire Hopping
So we thought we'd only be out until the 2:41 train but we dawdled around and missed it by almost 1/2 an hour. There are two hours between trains. The only way we were going to survive well was to keep moving. So we left the train platform again but went east. It is also very pretty over that way. We had enough time to go over a few hills.
Oh that thing that Billy's standing on ... those are ladders that allow hikers to go over electric fence wires. I think we went over four going and again coming back. They are not designed for short legged people!
Locomotion Waiting
Bonus ... the one that got away! So very frustrating. We got back to the train platform and I wanted to take a pic of the train coming down the track at us. I took some test shots. The sun was starting to set a bit. It was going to be perfect. And so ... the train came into view and ... I raised my camera ... and ... I saw ... a red battery outline and then ... fade to black. sigh
Ok finally! Go see the larger images. There's a link on that photo page so you can come back and leave a comment.
Links to other Thursday Thirteens! If you are participating in Thursday Thirteen, please leave a link in your comment.
What I mean is ... Please spell it out for us all that you are participating in Thursday Thirteen and leave your link.
And don't be bashful if it's already Friday or Saturday ... leave me a note anyway and I'll come visit ... especially since I do most of my Thursday Thirteen visiting on Friday since many of you post to your blog and my blog after I'm asleep for the day anyway :~)
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It's easy, and fun! Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!
His real question is: How is Billy doing walking to and from the train?
So ... what I really have to tell you about is "the unfriendly New Yorkers."
I grew up in Dallas, TX. I have lived in the DFW metroplex and in East Texas. I did not know it was possible to feel like vapor. My presence was always acknowledged in some way ... just because I breathed.
I have also visited Portland, Oregon for a year. I say visited because almost as soon as I got there, I wanted to leave. We wouldn't even open up a local banking account. Why? Because unless a person knows you in Portland, Oregon people do not even acknowledge that you are taking up space. You are vapor.
I wanted to go back to Texas. My husband wanted out of Oregon but wanted to find a way to stay in the NW -- in Washington. Nothing was working out. So we papered the nation with his resume and within 30 minutes, Billy was sure we were moving to NY. And the short of it is that we did.
I expected more of the same aloofness. Instead ... I am in a new form of culture shock. I can smile and receive smiles -- not suspicion-filled scowls. I can be just standing around taking up space and suddenly be in conversation. I can laugh quietly to myself about something overheard at the next table in the cafe ... and suddenly I am included in the group's conversation -- with my opinion sought. I can ask questions and get detailed answers. I can pass someone and ask about the book they are carrying. I can find myself walking next to a stranger on the sidewalk and suddenly we're talking about our surroundings and observations.
It is like being back in Texas ... people love to talk ... interact ... have opinions ... hear opinions.
I had a realtor tell me I just know how to bring out the best in New Yorkers but ... it's not just me ... for example .... I offer up one proof: The Starbucks here have regulars and the regulars have a "Regulars Club." If you become involved in conversation with one of the regulars, you will very likely soon be in conversation with all of the regulars who are present. If your coffee shop has a "Regulars Club" like this, you know what I mean ... (if it doesn't, I'll pass on my infiltration tips that I used in Oregon -- just ask.)
AND ...
Let's talk about how it is that my husband is staying warm in sub-freezing weather when he has to hike 1.5 miles to the train station.
My husband is not a small man. He wears an imposing full-length, black duster coat. He takes a backpack with him to work every day. Up until recently it's been dark when he leaves the house. And still ... all of that imposing figure stuff figured in .... almost every morning ... He walks away from the house ... and someone stops and picks him up.
We do not know the people in the small town we live in. It's not always the same someone. Sometimes it's someone who has spoken with him at the train station ... sometimes it's someone who has only observed him at the train station. Sometimes it's someone he talks to every morning. Sometimes it's a lady. Sometimes it's a gentleman.
Every evening he has to change trains. Sometimes there is a person there who sees him and brings him the rest of the way home. If not, he comes on the next train to our town. More often than not ... someone there offers him a ride home.
Sunday he tried to walk home from the A&P (a little further a way) ... Nope. He didn't make it home on foot that day, either. Yep, another complete stranger (with tips on hiking Germany dirt cheep, by the way).
They say the unfriendliness is worse down by the city ... but ... last Thursday, at Grand Central, people volunteered info when they saw it would be useful, stopped short so that I could take photos uninterrupted, smiled if I smiled, and answered any question I had.
I told my dad this and he said, "People talk about how unfriendly New Yorkers are -- but I'm just not believing it's true anymore."
MarillaAnne's Grand Central Station Thursday Thirteen #8 02/01/07
These pics are from when Billy & I went down to NYC on Christmas Eve. I figured they would be appropriate for today because I am going down to Grand Central Station today to pick up my cell phone. It has been living down there in the "Lost and Found" since ohhh ... mid December. Yes. Mid December. Yes it's still there. Billy called and checked.
I offer up my apologies to anyone who is on dial up but ... I couldn't bear to make the images any smaller because Grand Central Station is soooo beautiful. And yes I'm taking my camera with me again.
Each image opens a larger image that is usually different from the small one here. I think you would find it worth the effort. BUT, personally, if I were you, I would only look at these here (and somehow avoid the compulsion to click on an image).
Why? Because ... down at the bottom of this post you'll find a very useful link. It will take you to a photo page where you can just click through the titles in order. That way you won't have to keep jumping back and forth between the images here and the larger images there.
Basically I don't know anything about Grand Central Station except what you see here. So feel free to fill me in.
The image above and below is of the front of Grand Central. Evidently if you are going to "meet me under the clock," this is The Clock. That's Tiffany Glass in that thar face. Isn't it beautiful?
This eagle sits on the corner of 42nd and something. I don't know. I was just following Billy around and pointing the camera. A Lot.
Ok the name of this next image is "Huge is Huge." When you go look at the larger image, you will understand why when I went in for the first time I just had to stop and stare and turn and stare and turn and stare ... for at least ten minutes.
All of the lighting I noticed was incandescent. Chandeliers are everywhere and if it's not a chandelier, it is ensconced in some of the most beautiful brass work.
And let's not forget the marble ... carvings so beautiful and shineeey that I was tempted to think of them as a plastic! (How bad is that?!) It's very difficult to photograph. I'm hoping to get more of this today.
Everywhere you look there's some sort of "eye-candy" design
The image below and it's larger version are of a light show that was shown inside the building all of the Christmas season. It was like a kaleidoscope of familiar items in Grand Central and I think you'll find a very well known landmark in the large version.(But remember, don't click yet!)
We left for awhile and then came back. We had about an hour until our train. So we watched the light show and the clock upstairs (that's mother of pearl on that face!)
Then we went downstairs where we could sit down to watch the time some more
Then we got on the right track
And boarded our departing train
Ok finally! Go see the larger images. There's a link on that photo page so you can come back and leave a comment.
I'll be checking in here and there throughout the day to make sure the comments are working out for you. AND I look forward to visiting ya'll tomorrow (Are you kidding? Miss out on your lists?)
Links to other Thursday Thirteens! If you are participating in Thursday Thirteen, please leave a link in your comment.
What I mean is ... Please spell it out for us all that you are participating in Thursday Thirteen and leave your link.
And don't be bashful if it's already Friday or Saturday ... leave me a note anyway and I'll come visit ... especially since I do most of my Thursday Thirteen visiting on Friday since many of you post to your blog and my blog after I'm asleep for the day anyway :~)
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It's easy, and fun! Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!
Tonya is a friend whom I've met face to face with exactly twice or thrice in ten years of communicating over the Internet. She sent me a note about Canstruction and gall bladder surgery.
Ok no they aren't related events and they didn't even come in the same note.
Let's do cans of peas first because they're more fun.
Tonya sent me an email full of very fascinating images like the one to the left. The image to the left is actually from the Canstruction® 2006 National Winners Press Release which announced the top 10 national winners from the 2005-2006 year (July-June).
From the press release:
The NYDC hosted the 14th Annual CANSTRUCTION Competition & Gala Reception, on November 9 - 22, 2006. I have not seen images from that event online. However, in NYDC's intro video that plays on their home page, it is mentioned that one year they collected and gave away 80,000 cans of food.
From Canstruct's Mission Page:
Mission: Canstruct a World Without Hunger
Trademarked by the Society for Design Administration, and working in tandem with the American Institute of Architects and other members of the design and construction industry, Canstruction® is making a significant contribution to the fight against HUNGER.
Canstruction® combines the competitive spirit of a design/build competition with a unique way to help feed hungry people. Competing teams, lead by architects and engineers, showcase their talents by designing giant sculptures made entirely out of canned foods. At the close of the exhibitions all of the food used in the structures is donated to local food banks for distribution to pantries, shelters, soup kitchens, elderly and day care centers.
A visual feast for the eyes, you will not want to miss the eighty Canstruction® Competitions scheduled to occur in 2006-2007.
The NYDC hosted the 14th Annual CANSTRUCTION Competition & Gala Reception, on November 9 - 22, 2006. I have not seen images from that event online. However, in NYDC's intro video that plays on their home page, it is mentioned that one year they collected and gave away 80,000 cans of food. (And no I cannot explain why NY is having their 14th anniversary when Canstruction is half way into their 11th year.)
To loads of images go to www.canstruction.org and 1) watch the images on the home page. 2) In the Competitions menu check out the winners from 2006 back to 2002. 3) In the Multimedia menu ... more images. 4) In the About menu there's a PowerPoint.
A good collection of images from the 13th Annual NYDC Canstruction can be seen at The Bridge and Tunnel Club. (Which is a new find for me.)
Oh yeah ... the gall bladder. It's Tonya's turn to have hers out. Pray it goes well.
Some alliances just make themselves. Darren a/k/a Clare's Dad falls into that category. I've throughly enjoyed his company on this NaBloPoMo adventure. Thanks, of course, to the great choices made previously by The Odd Mix. (See A Little Cheer for the explanation.)
I think we can firmly establish now that I do not read people's profiles. I read their blogs ... I read about their lives ... their stories. So, I was very surprised to read in Dirty Water Dogs and Black and White Cookies that Darren and his crew lives in CT and takes the train to Manhattan. If he's living there and doing that, he's practically a neighbor! Well except that I'm on the NY side of the tracks. Listening to him describe Manhattan gives me the ability to believe that it's more than "what I see traveling to and from the airport -- a distant row of very tall, very grungy brown buildings that make me shudder with claustrophobia." I find myself looking forward to my trip that my husband is planning for us as uh ... what was that ... oh yeah a "bridge and tunnel" tourist.
Darren as Clare's Dad is involved in his daughter's life and he doesn't mind helping her get in touch with her feminine side. You may explore how he accomplishes this in Costume Parade, and Secret Project – Part Two.
In She Made Cleaning Up After the Party Worth It, we see that Clare's dad is easily put on cloud nine by his daughter's hugs and praise. But even in the end of this post and even more so in Segregation, Part 2 we see that Darren is also "on to" his daughter's ways.
He's also on to the ways of Clare's school. Now, Darren seems to think that much of this is because Clare is attending the same Catholic school that he attended and from which he "graduated twenty years ago." I don't think so. I'll let you read through his blog and decide for yourself, though.
As all parent's must, Clare's Dad is also remembering that he is a person – a human being. The parents who fare best in the short and long run of the parenting game are the parents that surface from the parenting trance ... as sweet and intriguing and binding as any trance can possibly be ... and realize that they are still adult humans who must have assistance from and give assistance to other adults. Amazingly enough, the world was not created to revolve around immature short people. They are fascinating and time consuming and endearing ... a worthy mission. But there comes a time when we "have to keep company with adults." And what we do with the adults during adult time "needs to matter – to count for something in this world." (Quotes denote phrases uttered by parents all over the world.) (OK and we aren't addressing the immature tall people in this post. Short version: Avoid them – run! The world implodes around them.)
The first clue that I had to Darren's abilities as a mover and a shaker in the adult world is his collection of Daddy blogs. My first thought when I saw it was "Alright! A Daddy Blogger who knows his fellow Dads!" Then I watched him interact with other parents in ways that both addressed what was real and strove to give hope or encouragement or just a simple Half-time Pep Talk: A Little Cheer. I look forward to having Darren's company on our continued blogging adventure (sans NaBloPoMo x-).
Well ... day two of my writing marathon ... hmmm ... yesterday I told you about my frustrations re Flick'r and then I told you to go look out our pics from the Appalachian Trail ... and I think I even misspelled it yesterday. I will go look and fix what I can. But! I didn't tell you anything at all about our little hike on the trail.
We didn't go for a long hike. We went to go wander around, have a picnic, take some photos, and enjoy the color, and let Shelbie have some fun ...
The Metro North has a stop that literally sits right on the trail. You get out and get to decide ... continue in New York towards the west or hike out towards Connecticut to the east. On the way there, we asked the conductor if he'd ever been out on the trail ... of course not ... he's lived here all his life and never been out on the trail. It's a normal thing but ... Wrong! Anyway he said if it were him he'd head off toward Connecticut.
We got off the train and looked out towards Connecticut and there was no indication really of where to go on the trail ... it just kind of wandered off toward a thoroughfare. And the hills were far off. As we stepped down off the platform, we discovered that there were maps in a mailbox attached to the signpost for the train station. There were about 6 others who got off the train and wandered off in various directions ... maps in hand ... all looking as unsure as we. But we were sure we wanted a pic of the train station so we got that first. Then we went back to puzzling. And suddenly ... there was a man ... carrying a little tool box ... saying, "Hello, you look lost."
So we asked him which way and what he thought and did he have a favorite. He said both directions were beautiful and so we said, "We want to to up and soon." So he said to absolutely go west. We felt very blessed that he showed up just when he did because we were about to take off in the direction of Connecticut.
And so we took off. Pretty soon we figured out where he'd come from and why he was carrying a tool box. The trail starts out and crosses a finger of The Great Swamp and is made up of several combos of cinder blocks, planks, and wood pallets. There were several fresh patches in the planks and pallets. Do you know that a lot of trails are maintained by volunteers? Yep. I was very glad he'd been out before we went. I enjoyed having a more solid footing.
The Great Swamp is wet. It doesn't smell bad and it's not creepy. It's just wet and mushy. The ground around the edges of the swamp is very springy ... like walking on moss. I didn't walk in the swamp though. Shelbie did. She loved it. She didn't get too very muddy either.
When the swamp congregates in ponds and pools and small lakes, it is very beautiful. We hope to spend more time with the water areas when spring comes. Also, when spring comes we are taking a tent up on the trail. You can count on it.
As soon as we left the swamp we started a very gentle climb until we were near the top of the ridge then it got sort of steep for about 15 minutes. Then the top of the ridge was rather flat. The side of the hill (maybe a mountain ... but I don't recall them being called mountains ... they're very short mts if they are mts) we went up was covered in trees. The other side was farmland. And beyond the farms were more hills covered in color!
When we set out that morning, we felt very silly packing our winter coats – especially me since my mid-weight coat is still in Oregon and so I have been gifted with a down coat. Usually it is still too warm. We also took a little military poncho liner. They are very thin light-weight sheets of polyester fill covered in camo and they are very warm. I love mine ... I call him blankie ... shhh that's a secret. So I balled him up tight and stuck him in a spot in my backpack. I put him in case Shelbie should end up in some sort of situation.
But it turns out that blankie just made great ground cover for our picnic. And I also wore my coat during lunch up on the ridge and very much enjoyed it's thick downy-ness. Oh did I tell you? We got to the top of the ridge and sat down to feel very smug about (and grateful for) living in such a beautiful place. We said a prayer of thanks over lunch. And then ... just because it wasn't enough to be looking out onto such incredible color and enjoying such a peaceful, sunny, warm(ish) day, and each other's company and the company of our beautiful dog ... Valerie called. She finally has a real graphics design job. She starts next Monday. She's excited. She's nervous. She won't refuse your prayers.
Oh and while we're on the subject of new jobs ... my daughter-in-law Sam called a few days ago and she is also getting to start a new job. Very very good news all around.
So after dawdling over lunch for about an hour we went reluctantly back down the trail. It was just a perfectly breath-taking day. Slowly we all trickled back in to the train station and compared notes. There were no regrets – even though a few of us were moving a little slower than when we left. Shortly after reaching the station (let's just be honest here and say platform) we were wearing our coats and Billy's light jacket was on loan until the train showed up. We didn't feel quite as silly walking back home after we got off the train.
I have a favorite photo. You can go look at the albums. And please leave me notes somewhere as to which version of presentation you found easiest. The batch at Picasa has about five or six photos that the one at Flick'r doesn't ... but then once you get over to Flick'r you can see pics of a little hike we took in Duchess County. Usually I'd fill this post with links to the individual pics but I'm outta time!
We have often talked about wanting to go hike the Appalachian Trail. Now we live right beside it. We're going to find ways to take full advantage of that! And one more BTW: The trail is very easy and very well marked. We met up with at least one person every 20 minutes or so. I would feel comfortable going back with Shelbie to goof off one afternoon.
If you want to know more: The Appalachian Trail article at Wikipedia is a good starting point.
(Image links to Flick'r and my photos from our hike.) What happens when we miss the train and the next train to come along isn't for two more hours? Well ... we go out wandering down winding roads. What else would we do? We did first step off at the deli for sandwiches and eclairs ... and some water to go in the backpack!
Since we hadn't planned to hike, we didn't know where good trials were. Basically, we picked a road and said, "Let's see what's around that next bend in the road." Perhaps it is a little reflective of our life perspective: If we go a little further, try a little experiment, what will happen?
We found out a lot about our little community. We went past three parks full of people all revolving around some family outing ... school fair, little league baseball, and I'm fairly sure the last park was a wedding.
We passed a cemetery and I was surprised to find myself standing in front of Pecks! Peck is a family name in the tree. But I checked online today and I can see no way for these Pecks to be related to my Pecks. Wouldn't it have been funny?!
And we saw a lot of signs that told us about our new home: There's a rock quarry somewhere that has some people upset. There's a development going in with each plot being 4 acres. There's another cute little slice of land that is for sale. Oh and there's a shopping center going in somewhere that has the community quite up in arms and divided.
We observed that rock walls are very popular. Some seem to have been around for a long time. Clueless on that. Also, it is very difficult to see the hills for the trees. We had to wait for breaks in the trees in order to be able to see across the valley and over to the neighboring hills. The trees are starting to think about turning colors. I keep hearing I'm in for quite an experience. Blazing orange everywhere.
Eventually we had to admit it was time to turn back towards home. We also had to admit that we weren't overly sure where we were ... since we also took off without a map. Oh we knew how to go home. We just didn't know where we were. Turns out that we were nearly half way to the next town.
Oh, and how do we finish off a five mile hike? We stopped off at the deli to pick up some ravioli and the owner very enthusiastically suggested options for our next hike. Well, of course, we always go there for our little bits of this and that. They even know our names. "Hey! Billy from Texas! How's it going? Where did ya'll go today?" Yes, it's true. People will come back and wait in very long lines (sometimes daily even) just to buy in a place where people know their names.
Well, go and see my photos and see the fun we had. And when was the last time you went out just wandering?
This bit tried to wedge it's way into my official "Who I am" FAQ ...
It does briefly expound on who I am ... but not briefly enough for a brief FAQ.
This Texas girl never dreamed of living in New York. It was a far away and mysterious land full of snow. I don't think I like snow. I'll let you know in a few months.
I know I don't like cold. Billy says that it's all about proper planning and proper clothing and that I will actually like it. I think I need to sell essays and skip winter by going to a photography class in the Arizona desert. (Okay, yes, I know it can snow and be cold there, too. Stop mess'n with the illusion.)
We are in New York because we like to eat. A company here offered to pay my husband enough money so that we could meet that objective. I get homesick ... but only very occasionally ... it is beautiful here ... even when it is exceptionally hot and muggy. Missing out on the current stage-three drought back home also helps keep the homesickness away.
Our new little apartment sits on the edge of The Great Swamp. This also helps me avoid feeling homesick for the quiet country sounds of East Texas. It seems "The Swamp" is the beginning of the NYC water collection system and developments will never come between me and The Swamp.
The apartment itself is part of a dream I have had for a long time -- an answer to prayer. One wall of the dining/living area is comprised of a door which has a screen door and one nice-sized window (stops about 2.5 feet from the floor). The cornering wall has two of these same windows.
When I sit in this room, I hear birds, and Katydids, an occasional distant whistle of the train. In the evenings, the birds are replaced by bull frogs (That's what they call them ... but these bull frogs sing tenor). I feel a light-weight breeze. I watch a fawn, a feral marmalade kitten, and little flittery white butterflies. My dream was a screened in porch with the breeze and all of the sounds I hear. The fawn, kitten, and butterflies are bonus.
Another thing that almost eliminates homesickness is the friendliness of the people here. Alright, no, I'm not in NYC. But according to what the rest of the world hears, all of New York is cold and rude and in a hurry ... but it's not true! They believe that if you pass someone on the street, it is good manners to admit that they exist and at the very least make eye contact. It is common to talk to people (strangers) at other tables in cafes and coffee shops ... just like back home. Anyone who knows me can tell you I deeply resent places where I am ignored.
Speaking of the cafes and coffee shops, they are exceptionally well suited to help us meet our eating objective. They tend to be exceptionally good and usually reasonably priced. We just haven't figured out how to be reasonable eaters of good food. Oh! and Praise the Lord! They believe in spice ... almost just like back home (much more so than those poor Oregonians)! To quote my friend Hana, "I never thought of myself as a spice person until I visited Oregon!"
We are still learning, however, to avoid "authentic Southwest food" unless we are in the Southwest. "Authentic Spanish" food did turn out to be ... interesting ... mostly good but ... It makes me wonder ... When I love Greek food here, is it real Greek food or Greek food modified for Americans?
Have you ever tried to recapture home away from home by eating "Authentic ____" (fill in the blank ... "Authentic Texas Barbeque" comes to mind for me)
Who are You? 08/18/06 I am me ... I run around with my long hair in a French braid. I camp and hike (often in the city). I live in Upstate NY right on the very edge of The Great Swamp. Continue...
Why does this Site Exist? 10/26/06 My website is largely my memoir ... my musings, photos, encounters, life's stories.
But what really thrills me is that when I let go of my stories, it's like sending out little sail boats out on expeditions. Very often they come back to me filled with other people's stories. Continue...
Respecting your Privacy 10/25/06 I do not collect your private info unless ... Continue...
Telling My Stories and Discovering Your Stories
