Travel Tuesday: Southampton

Last April the ship made a port call in Southampton, most of the shore excursions were for destinations an hour or two away, Stonehenge (been there), London (been there and we were going there later in the trip) so we opted to explore on our own.  I was looking for things that would have been there when my ancestors passed through 115-120 years ago. 

The Cruise Line provided a shuttle bus into town, sadly it dropped us in the middle of a modern shopping center. I was surprised at people who were excited about going shopping. We wandered around, stopped in a pharmacy for a couple of things, and Sweet Bear took the bus back to the ship. I walked back to the ship. It was 2-3 miles along the harbour.  The walk allowed me to see Southampton. To take photos of places that have been there for hundreds of years, things my great-grandparents and my grandmother may have seen on their way to the ships. 
 

Monday Mood: Centered

Take a deep breath in, slowly exhale counting to 8 if you can, start with your arms bent over your chest, and as you exhale make a circle with them ending overhead. Repeat several times. Focus on your breathing, and gentle controlled movement. You can do this standing, sitting in your most comfortable chair, or standing in the water in a comfortable pool or lake. 

Emptying your mind, think about nothing, is difficult or impossible for most of us, but we can focus what we are thinking about.  Think about things that went well, that you did well, things that bring pleasure, that bring you happiness.  Fall asleep thinking about things that bring joy to your life, the things you are grateful for. 

I smear paint on canvas, you can call it painting if you want, for the most part I call it playing. There is a saying that we don't stop playing because we have grown old, we have grown old because we stopped playing.  Feed your creative outlet, play with the paint, or pencils, or cameras, or words. Escape into playing. 

I play in the kitchen.  I have spent my adult life reading about cooking, technique, ingredients, the alchemy of saucing.  And I play. I am often surprised at what inspires me in the kitchen. A particular ingredient, a meal out, something I have read, something I have seen.  Recipes are guides, not blueprints or chemistry formulas.  Julia Child emphasized one correct way to do things, very much a French approach. Martha Stewart emphasized the best ingredients. Glen of Glen and Friends, encourages good ingredients, solid technique, and breaking the rules.  His style is very much playing in the kitchen. I like it.  I work clean, something I learned from watching and reading, and the kitchen is a playground not a workspace.  

From a technical standpoint the canvass above is flawed, the focal point, the horizon is centered, it should be above or below the center. I was playing when I made this, and the golden sun is at the center of that play.  Time for me to go float in the pool. 

The Sunday Five: Wedding Parties

A hen do, in the train station in Glasgow, Scotland

1: When was the last time you attended a wedding? 

2: Should we continue the tradition of "white wedding dresses"? 

3: Have you been a part of a  bachelor or bachelorette party? 

4: What was the strangest wedding you have ever seen? 

5: Do you cry at weddings? 

My answers: 

1: When was the last time you attended a wedding? Last September in Michigan. 

2: Should we continue the tradition of "white wedding dresses"? I think they are silly, something that is worn only once. And I would look strange in one. 

3: Have you been a part of a  bachelor or bachelorette party? No, never invited to one. 

4: What was the strangest wedding you have ever seen? The ex-husband of my ex's middle sister, in the mid 1980s in Ocoee Florida. It was a redneck affair, I never knew anyone made blue jean suits.  Budweiser served in cans. We left before the fights broke out. 

5: Do you cry at weddings? Yes, I am a softy.

Please share your answers in the comments. 

The Saturday Morning Post: 50 States in 52 Weeks: New Hampshire

In 2009 I was invited to present at a conference at Mt. Washington in New Hampshire. New Hampshire is in the heart of northern New England, and I had never been there. I flew up a day early, rented a car and explored New Hampshire and Vermont. Spending the first night in Vermont, the second night at Mt. Washington in New Hampshire.  

Mt Washington sits in an opening between mountains, with the prevailing winds blowing through creating a unique micro climate. It is one of the windiest places in North America. A tourist cog-railway was built up the side of the mountain (and there is now a road up the other side.) I had never ridden a cog-railway, and research revealed that the line was still running part of the trains on coal fired steam locomotives.  I booked tickets for that experience. 

It was thrilling and at times terrifying, the train climbs the mountain with a gear (the cog) gripping a special rail in the middle of the track. The steam engine at times seemed to struggle with the very steep grade, as the train climbed the mountain we disappeared into the clouds. I'd do it again today. 

The conference was in the fall, near the peak of the autumn color. It was one of the most scenic work trips I ever had. If you get a chance, go to New Hampshire. 

Foodie Friday: What I Learned in Iceland

A Supermarket in Grindavik.

Our first visit to Iceland was a 24 hour layover. We rented a car, booked a hotel along the coast near Reykjavik, and went to a Viking themed restaurant for dinner.  One item on the menu caught my attention, something rarely seen, Whale.  It is a very lean red meat, closer to beef. Not all all fishy. When the opportunity is presented to try something that most of the world would think strange, try it. For the second or third year, Iceland recently announced that they were not fishing whale this year, leaving Japan and a handful of native populations the only places remaining whalers. Minke Whale, the species fished by Iceland are not endangered. 

Our second trip to Iceland we stayed in Reykjavik, and rented a car for about half of the time we were there.  At a small restaurant across from the hotel, lamb tenderloin was on the menu. I had never heard of this cut.  I regularly cook pork tenderloin, once a year or so I buy a whole beef tenderloin. It is one of the most flavorful and tender cuts. Lamb tenderloins are tiny, less than an inch around, about 8 or 9 inches long, and are wonderful.  The Wegmans Supermarket near where we live carries this cut. Icelandic lamb is much milder than American lamb because the animals are butchered at a much younger age.  

Iceland also makes great local beer.  The country has tried prohibition, unsuccessfully. Craft distilling is flourishing, with gin, vodka, and single malt whisky being made. The grain is mostly imported, so none of this will be cheap. 

Iceland has a very active fishery, Icelandic fish soup is hearty and warming and a must try when you visit. 

I was pleased to learn that most of the soft vegetables, tomatoes, cucumbers, and lettuce consumed in Iceland are grown there.  Sitting on top of active volcanic fields, Iceland uses geothermal steam to heat vast greenhouses, and to produce electricity to light them. Vegetables are grown year round. Though the cows are wintered indoors (in heated barns) Iceland produces many of the dairy products it uses. 

Near the hotel was a foodhall, a large pavilion with a collection of restaurants, snack bars, food counters and bars. I had a delightful grilled fish, prepared as we sat at the counter watching, by a young local with a Texas accent. I asked, he perfected his spoken English watching reruns of Dallas on television.  

On our third trip, we discovered that the locals love Pizza. At the hotel Geysir, - well I could go on and on, but I would sooner go back to Iceland, there is so much to learn.  

The Thursday Ramble: Pheasants

This pheasant was at the Abbotsbury Swannery, near Weymouth in England. They are such pretty birds, this one was surprisingly at ease around the crowd of people. Obviously it felt safe and cared for. 

Pheasants played a role in my childhood. My grandfather was raised in poverty. Hunting was something he learned to do as a teen, and was very good at it. Ammunition cost money, and he was the a good shot, and the family relied on him to help put food on the table.  Interestingly he stumbled upon his first honeybees while hunting, a swarm in a hollow tree. A neighbor showed him how to harvest the honey and a lifelong relationship with bees was formed. 

Back to the pheasants. He enjoyed hunting game birds, pheasant and partridge. He had stopped hunting rabbits and squirrels by the time I was born (the season was later in the fall, and they were a lot of effort.) My father hunted a little, but didn't really enjoy it. My oldest brother enjoyed hunting, but his undiagnosed ADHD made it a challenge. My grandfather lived for the October small game season each year. 

Pheasants have very distinctive tail feather. My grandfather would save the best of the tail feathers for the grandkids.  

Even through World War II, the opening of the small game hunting season was the one day of the year, that he took off. He told his boss at Ford that he would be taking that day off, the boss said, "You can't do that!" He said, "watch me!" When he returned to work the job was still there.  

He died in the fall of 1976. His health had been declining for two or three years. He had vascular dementia. The last year or so at home was a challenge. He was easily disoriented, couldn't be left alone and when he slept he had recurring bad dreams of being abandoned naked in a wheat field. My grandmother and I cared for him at home. He had prostate surgery in the late summer, and only returned home for one night, spending his last couple of months in skilled nursing care. He died of a heart attack, in the middle of lunch one fall day. 

His funeral was a bright clear and cool October day. The kind of a day he loved. As we stood by the graveside, I could hear hunting dogs and shotguns in the distance. I checked the date, it was the opening day of the pheasant hunting season. 

 

My World of Wonders, aka the Wednesday Ws July 16, 2025

 

What made me sad this week? A call from my successor as director of the ABA Commission on Law and Aging. Because of funding cuts, she had to terminate two long time staff members, Sonia had been there over 25 years, Trisha nearly 25 years. It was nothing they did, nothing that the director did, she has been working her fingers to the bone trying to find alternative funding. Federal budget cuts have devastated human services funding, and the ABA was specifically targeted.

Where have I been this week? Out to lunch, grocery shopping, the library, the pool, and the treadmill.  It has been hot, we have been staying close to home. 

Who have a talked with this week? Sweet Bear, Ana and Susan, Giuseppe and Larry, Ruth, the gang at water aerobics, Erica from my old office. 

What have I been reading? I finished, Happy This Year - ehh nothing I hadn't figured out already. And started Imagine, a book on creativity. 

What have I been watching? The Tour de France - there are five or six hours of live coverage most days.  I love the countryside and the villages that the tour passes through.  I could see myself living there. 

What didn't I watch this year? The Belmont, the final of the three races in the triple crown of horse racing. The horse that won the Kentucky Derby skipped the Preakness, meaning there was no triple crown contender. They really need to do something about the rules, that allow the horse that winds the Derby to skip out on the series, allowing that only if there is a medical reason.  Or drop the triple crown hype.

When is the next grand adventure? I started the planning this week, April 20 - May 4th - Ft. Lauderdale to Rome.  

What artsy thing have I done this week? I am been adding layers onto a painting, I am starting to see and understand what it will be.  

Where did I find peace and relaxation this week? I have a pool "hammock" this is a simple pool float consisting of two inflated tubes that are round about 6 inches in diameter, and about 2 feet wide,  between the two is about 3 feet of soft mesh. One tube goes under your neck, one goes under your knees, and the mesh gently supports you as you lay back in the sun. The water in the outdoor pool is in the low 80's (f). Put on sunglasses and watch the clouds and airplanes - listen to my breathing - and forget the world.  

What have I been up to in the kitchen? Last Thursday we went out to lunch, so I didn't cook. Saturday I made chicken baked in tomato, and redwine and a flatbread topped with italian cheese and thinly sliced red onion. Sunday I did a duck egg and mushroom ravioli in a parmesan cream sauce. Tuesday I made Swiss Steak. I have made guacamole a couple times. 

How was Wordle this week? A couple of strange words, at least one total miss.  "Undid" I was not even sure it was a word.  Still it is a puzzle, and mind game each day.

What artsy thing am I up to this week? I continue to add lines of metallic paints to a painting, that seems to be leading me, rather than me leading it. I do find abstract painting relaxing. 

What did I learn this week? Two keys to creative thinking, 1: sometimes you have to forget what you know to find what you don't know, 2: finding connections between seemingly unrelated ideas, often leads to innovation (I am good at this).  

Travel Tuesday: Wyoming

A few weeks ago, I posted about visiting Montana, and promised in the comments to post photos from that part of the country. Wyoming is directly south of Montana, a very similar landscape. I drove across Wyoming, spending a couple of nights back in August of 2023.

 

Monday Mood: Remembering my Grandmother

My father's mother was born in England and crossed the Atlantic twice in the early years of the last century.  Her second crossing was months after the Titanic disaster.  That experienced stayed with her. The very real fear, and being grateful that she and her family where not on the Titanic.  Thankfulness and gratefulness stuck with her.  

Her family left England just a few years before World War I. She heard about the horrors of war from a safe distance. Her father was working on water and sanitation projects, work that was considered essential and hence not at risk of being drafted.  She was grateful for her nuclear family being spared the horrors of that War.  

She married by grandfather, almost 100 years ago, my father was born little more than a year later, and then the stock market crashed. My grandfather worked for Ford, and at times was down to a couple of days a week, but was never unemployed. They raised a huge garden, my grandfather kept bees. They always had food on the table. They were renting a home from a bank. A good honey crop yielded a couple of hundred dollars for a downpayment, and they bought the house during the depth of the depression, for mortgage payments that were less than they were paying in rent. They took in family members who lost homes in foreclosure. She was forever grateful that they kept a roof over their heads and food on the table and were able to help the extended family.  

During World War II, family from England came to live with them, escaping the bombing.  Sally was school age, Edith (little Aunt Edith - she was about 5 feet tall and never over 100 pounds) was one of her father's sisters, Bob was an uncle, who died of alcoholism before I was born. All three of them stayed. Everyone worked during the war. My grandmother enjoyed her years in an office at a machine shop, and graciously left when the man she had replaced returned from the war. My father was a teenager, he was drafted near the end of the war, and never left the country. If he had been two years older, he would have been cannon fodder, and she knew that. She was proud to be a Blue Star mother, and forever grateful that the were not a Gold Star family.  She was grateful that they contributed their share to the war effort, and that our family was spared the worst of the war.  

All of this reminds me to be grateful, to be thankful for the good fortune of my life. 

The photos above were taken on this spring's cruise, as the ship passed over the wreck of the Titanic. The personal connection - how the disaster shaped my grandmother was on my mind that day. I am glad we visited there. My grandmother considered the site a gravesite, that should be left undisturbed. When the wreck was discovered, she and I talked about this, I think she shared thoughts and feelings she had kept bottled up for decades.  She was right in so many ways.  She was and remains a major influence in my life. 

This Monday finds me thankful and grateful. 

 

The Sunday Five: How Does Your Garden Grow

1: What is your favorite vegetable or fruit, fresh from the garden?

2: Have you ever eaten veggies while in the garden they were grown in? 

3: Describe your current growing situation? 

4: If you push a shovel in the ground where you live, what will you turn up? 

5: Is a tomato a fruit or a vegetable? 

My Answers: 

1: What is your favorite vegetable or fruit, fresh from the garden? Tomatoes, nicely ripe. 

2: Have you ever eaten veggies while in the garden they were grown? When I was growing up, green beans have a delightful texture, tomatoes taste devine, brush the dirt off on tiny carrots. 

3: Describe your current growing situation? Nada, I am not allowed to keep plants, after the cactus died from neglect. 

4: If you push a shovel in the ground where you live, what will you turn up? Construction debri and history I imagine. 

5: Is a tomato a fruit or a vegetable?  Ignoring the scientific definitions, a tomato is a vegetable. 

Please share your answers in the comments. 

The Saturday Morning post: 50 States in 52 weeks: Nevada

 When people think of Nevada, they often think of Las Vegas, and Vegas was my first exposure to the Silver State.  A conference I was speaking at had been scheduled for San Francisco, then the hotel workers at the Hilton went on strike, and the conference was moved at the last minute to the old Las Vegas Hilton (now long gone.) 

I rather enjoyed it. Many of the conference attendees were horrified at being in sin city.  I stayed over a couple of days after the conference, and flew on from there to participate in a symposium on post practice careers for lawyers at Stanford Law School.  

The other couple of times I have been to Nevada, I flew into Reno. One trip I spoke at a conference in Reno, the other was a board meeting at Lake Tahoe.  Twice I have driven from Reno to Lake Tahoe. The second time we arrived at Lake Tahoe the day after the first snowfall of the season. A magical place. 

Foodie Friday: What I learned in Italy

Italy in February of 2000, was the first trip to Europe that Sweet Bear and I did together. A week in Rome, and a week in Florence. I hadn't been to Europe in almost a decade, he had been a couple of times for a conferences and research. 

Traveling with Sweet Bear I learned so much, and there is so much to learn in Italy. 

I remember riding the train into Rome from the airport at Fiumicino that first morning, seeing small gardens squeezed into every available space, tomatoes growing in containers on sunny balconies. Italian cooking thrives on fresh, local and seasonal. The closer to the source the better. Thinking back I knew this from sitting in the dirt in my grandmother's garden eating green beans fresh from the plant, they have a furry texture that goes away within minutes of being picked. After time and distance and they are never the same.  A tomato still warm from the sunshine that ripened it, has an intensity of flavor that it will not have once it has left the sun.  Italians would sooner not eat something, than to eat something that is out of season and shipped in from far away. And far away, is defined very narrowly. Kind of like the Appalachian "you are not from around here are you?" 

Italians will never rush you in a restaurant, bar or cafe. There is no rush to turn the table over. At times, especially for an American, the service can become frustratingly slow. The Italians would urge you to slow down, relax, there is seldom a reason to rush away. I remember my father at Red Lobster, pulling out his credit card as soon as the main course was served, asking for the bill, so he could leave as soon as he was finished, to rush home and - and spend the afternoon playing solitaire on the computer in his office. Sit, linger, observe, talk, read, savor the time. 

In Florence I learned about restaurant service. Being a waiter is a dignified and reasonably paid profession in Italy, not something you do to get by, something you can do for a lifetime. The waiters knew the menu, and what was best that day (fresh, local, and in season.) The service added a dignity to the experience. I think back to a restaurant named  Antico Forno, the Ancient Oven, we went twice, the food was amazing and this foreigner with very basic Italian was made to feel so welcome by the staff. 

We went into the Central Market in Florence, it was a short walk from the hotel we were staying in overlooking the Medici Chapel. Three memories stand out there. 

A poultry vendor, I was admiring the chicken and asked if I could take a photograph. He encouraged me to do so.  I remarked about the heads still being on the birds, and he said that is so you can look them in the eye and tell how fresh they are. He went on to explain that he had looked over those birds from the day they hatched, through their life, and on to this morning. His repeat customers would look at the eyes and tell him what time that morning the chickens had been dispatched.   

I was looking for a bottle of Limoncello.  One vendor had a nice selection, as I was trying to decipher the differences in them and the lady who owned the stall came over to help.  She was about 5 feet tall, wearing a mink coat that was about 4 1/2 feet tall, she had a voice cultivated by smoking since she was about 12, at least 60 years before.  She summoned a tray of shot glasses and we started sampling Limoncellos, one after another in mid morning.  After half a dozen shots I made a choice, and then we sampled a couple of olive oils, and I bought the best bottle of olive oil I have ever tasted. She explained that she knew, or was related to all of the producers, that she selected what she would sell, only the best. I will always remember her. 

The last one was a refrigerated case, filled with gelatinous fibrous tentacles, I was thinking it was some kind of exotic seafood. Reading the sign, and talking with the vendor, it was bovine nerves.  I have no idea what you do with them, but enough people in Florence did for there to be a vendor who specialized in them. 

I could go on, but I would sooner go back and learn even more.   

 

 

Thursday Ramble: Sheep

About 20 year ago we spent a week in Yorkshire, we rented a house, Duncan and Stephen rented a car, and we explored and discovered how delightful sheep are. 

The room we stayed in was on the back side of the house, with a Velux Roof Window, overlooking a steep hillside that was home to a flock of sheep.  We would awake in the morning to their gentle bleating. What a beautiful scene to look out and see the green hillside dotted with those gentle fluffy creatures. 

We went to the Wensleydale creamery one day. I really like cheese, and had no idea what Wallace and Gromit was all about. To get from the parking area to the creamery, we crossed a field of sheep. Sheep that were accustomed to hundreds of visitors crossing their meadow every day. Gentle, friendly, fluffy sheep.  It made us wonder if we could keep one as a housepet (not really.) 

Stephen's parents lived in the area.  We stopped by to meet them, and Peggy mother insisted that we take lamb stew back to the house with us for dinner.  I had always turned my nose up at lamb, I was very unsure, but didn't want to insult anyone. Oh my, were we in for a treat.  It was so good. Savory, mild, full of veggies in a thick rich gravy. We had dinner with Peggy and Ralph a few evenings later and I had her describe to me how to make it.  A very simple, low and slow braise.  

The photos above, I was out at Mt Vernon a few weeks ago and they were finishing up the spring shearing. They shear by hand, the way it was done in George Washington's day. This particular lady was not real happy with being on her side, making the shearer's job especially difficult.  Great care was taken to keep the sheep from getting stressed. 

A stressed sheep, is a likely to be a dead sheep.  Many have written that a sheep is an animal that spends its life looking for a hideous an unexpected way to die. When my mother was a child, her father worked on a farm that had sheep, decades later she said, "if you look at sheep cross eyed, they keelover and die." 

If I win the lottery, I will buy a farm, hire a farmer, and raise a flock of black sheep. The farm will be called "Black Sheep Farm."    
 

My World of Wonders, aka, the Wednesday Ws July 9, 2025 edition

Where have I been this week? Close to home, the farmers market, Aldi, Trader Joe's, the liquor store, the pool, the treadmill in the gym, out to lunch and the Fresh Market with the sweet bear. 

What did I learn this week? A gin and tonic, is a drink for people who don't like gin. What a terrible waste of good gin. 

Who have I talked with? Linda, Pratibha, Jon, Ana, Susan, Raphael, Russel, Ruth, the water aerobics gang, John, it was a social week. 

What am I reading? Revenge of the Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell, when it is finished I need to head to the library. 

What have I been up to in the kitchen? Homemade baked beans, potato salad, a hearty soup made with leftovers, guacamole, cheese spread, 

What artsy thing have I done? I framed and hung three more prints. 

What have I written this week (besides blogs)? I finished an article on interviewing for the ABA Voice of Experience, and finished edits on a PowerPoint for a webinar I am co-presenting later this month. 

 

Travel Tuesday: Sir John Soane Museum, London

Sir John Soane was a British architect in late 1700's early 1800', and a boundless collector. His home is preserved as a museum as much like it could be preserved from the time of his death in 1837. I think my space is a little cluttered, this mueseum shows what an amature I am at packing things in, there are over 50,000 cataloged items in this house. It is near Covent Gardens, it is free, and well worth spending an hour or two in.  

Duncan and other artifacts.