remembering Mom...

 Today, March 10, was my mother's birthday.  She always thought March was the most hopeful month.  She was born in 1910 and lived life to the fullest.  She went to the senior prom first when she was a freshman; wore the style of the 20s, above the knee skirts and high heels, to high school.  Longed to become a nurse but went to college and became a teacher because her parents (a pastor and pastor's wife) didn't think that nursing was a proper career for a young lady.  She taught for several years, with interesting summer jobs, dated a lot but never seriously.  Drove a spiffy little Aston Martin and took flying lessons.  One of her best summer jobs was chaffering a professor and his wife to the Chicago Worlds Fair and then farther west. When I was young she fired my longing to travel with tales of Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, and especially Carlsbad Caverns.  In 1942 she was accepted to Nursing School at Johns Hopkins.  While there she met my father, a dashing Army Master Sargent, six years her junior, they fell in love and married, ending her nursing hopes because nurses weren't allowed to be married in that school, in that era.  They married and he was deployed to Brazil. While he was gone I was born and my mother moved me and all our worldly possessions (in ten footlockers) from Havre de Grace, Maryland to Fort Wayne, Indiana.  She told me that the train car was full of soldiers heading home, eager to see their families.  Those soldiers took turns holding me all night long.  The war ended, my father came home, my first brother was born and life rolled on.  Eventually we moved from Fort Wayne to an old farm house on five acres near Woodburn, my father's home town.  In 1955 my youngest brother (you know him as my west coast brother) was born.  My mother called him her serendipity baby.  She was 45 and he was definitely an unexpected pleasure.  When he was five years old she went back to teaching.  She was a wonderful teacher (as many of my younger friends have told me) and a fun ride to school.  She taught us songs like "How Much is that Doggy in the Window" and "Yes, We Have No Bananas" as we rode along.  Sadly, like both of my grandmothers, she died in her fifties.  Despite colon cancer, she was able to attend my college graduation in 1965 and see me begin my teaching career.  I recently came across a letter she wrote to me during that first year of teaching, possibly the last letter before she died.  It was full of chatty happy news about the good things going on in our little home town and with my little brother and our extended family.  There were no references to how she was feeling.  She focused on the good things in life until the very end.  My greatest regret is that she never knew her grandchildren.  She would have loved them so much.  One of my great selfish joys is that I have lived long enough to know and love my grandchildren.  I like to think, that however such things work, she is happily looking over all of us.  Happy Birthday, Mommy.  

spring forward

 Today was the day we all sprang forward, at least we did if we remembered to set our clocks ahead before we went to bed last night.  My west coast brother (who had to do the same thing) has informed me that it's also "Panic Day, co-sponsored by The Sky is Falling Committee and Get Over it Day."  That seems like an extreme reaction to setting a few clocks forward.  I know I'll be over it by tomorrow. There was a time (I remember it fondly) when the time didn't change in Indiana or Arizona, the only two unchanging states I believe.  Since my son and his family lived in Phoenix then it was easy for us to keep track of each other's time.  My spouse and I are actually not feeling the effects of this time change as much as some might.  On our recent three week trip to South America our time for the entire trip was two hours ahead of Indiana.  This surprised me.  I didn't realize that South America was so far east of Indiana.  Anyway, since we had only been home one day when the time changed, for us it felt more like going back one hour.  Weren't we lucky?

Here's a map to help you see what I mean.

from cruise to home

 Our wonderful voyage is over.  During our travels we saw and experienced quite a variety of creatures and events.  From penguins to sea lions to whales' tails to albatrosses; from 16 feet tall waves and swells, and the resultant rocking and rolling of our ship, to relatively calm waters, and one amazing glacier, and, of course, an abundance of good food.  But that's behind us now.  We arrived home just before midnight last night after flying from Santiago to Lima (Peru not Ohio) to Atlanta and finally to Fort Wayne where my son was waiting to drive us home.  The highlight of the flight was an amazing view of the Andes.

Today we got to discover the wonders of our beautifully remodeled kitchen and purchase a new kitchen table.  We found exactly the table we wanted at Klopfenstein's furniture store in Leo.  We also had the dubious delight of sorting through three weeks of accumulated mail. Two friendly pieces, six legitimate business pieces and 27,000 (that may be a slight exaggeration) pieces for instant recycling.

This evening we finished off this welcome home day by attending the Philharmonic where we were dazzled by piano soloist Orli Shaham and the music of Anna Clyne, Ravel and Copland.  

Quite a full day, I think you will agree. But wait, there's one more thing to do.  We must set our clocks forward one hour.  Starting now we should be finished by midnight.  We have lots of clocks.  Good night.

Trip blog 4

It has been an exciting few days since my last blog.  We have visited Ushuaia, Argentina, the southernmost city in the world. While there we took a five hour catamaran ride and saw penguins (many, many penguins), whales, sea lions and all sorts of sea birds, including albatross. 

After sailing all night, through the Beagle channel, we arrived in Punta Arenas, Chile, which they claim as the southernmost city. It seems to depend on your definition of city.  While we were here we had a tour of the city with a truly excellent guide. I think it's interesting that so many of these cities started as penal colonies. Now we are sailing through the Strait of Magellan heading towards the Pacific Ocean.

To add to our pleasure today was the first sunny day we have had for a while.

Penguins and sea lions...