Category Archives: Whimsies

You Really Can Go Home Again

Posted in Whimsies by

Urban legend always hints that people who live on the east coast – NYC, Boston, Baltimore, Philadelphia – don’t even know that Nebraska exists. Hmmmm. Nebraska? Is that somewhere over by Idaway or South Mexico? Isn’t that where all the Indians live?

I don’t know if it’s true that the Great Plains states remain a mystery to New Yorkers or Californians – just one of the so-called flyover states – but I will tell you that even as one who left Nebraska to put roots elsewhere, I never fail to be proud that I grew up in the Midwest.

All my life – both when I lived in Nebraska and after I moved to Colorado – I have heard people complain about that long drive on I-80 through ugly Nebraska. The sentiment makes me laugh because, while certainly the mountains of central and western Colorado are magnificent, the eastern plains are, well, less than splendid. But the cattle that graze on that land and the wheat that grows both summer and winter in eastern Colorado feed all of us throughout the United States and frankly, the world. So to me, it’s beautiful. It’s all beautiful.

And once you cross into Nebraska and start following the Platte River past field after field of corn and soybeans, the scene is frankly bountiful and gorgeous. It reminds me of the vineyards in Tuscany in sort of a weird way.

Midwesterners work hard, whether or not they are farmers or ranchers or city folk. Hard work, family, faith, and the Cornhuskers are what make most Nebraskans tick. It’s as simple as that. And if you spend your formative years in Nebraska, it is always part of you, even if you call yourself a Coloradan or an Arizonan.

Bec tells a funny story about a time when she was driving around her town of Chandler, AZ, shortly after she had moved there. She passed a field of something green. Hmmm, she said to herself. There’s a field of sorghum.

Wait, what? She reminded herself that she didn’t have the slightest idea of what sorghum was or even its purpose. But when she got home, she googled it. Yes, you guessed it. The field was, in fact, sorghum. Somewhere inside her head that had lived in Germany and Alabama and Washington, DC, for way more years than in Nebraska, she recognized sorghum.

The recent few days that we spent in Nebraska for my family’s reunion were wonderful, and made all of us nostalgic. Those cornfields are so beautiful, one of us would say about every 15 minutes. It looks like there’s been a lot of rain, another would say, interest in weather being a perfect indicator of a Midwesterner.

Here are some of the things we saw and did while in Nebraska…..

Beautiful old houses surrounded by magnificent trees (Do you know that Arbor Day started in Nebraska? Do you even know what Arbor Day is?)….

Nielsons house

We drove on the Lincoln Highway quite by accident while in Omaha. Bec instructed her car’s GPS to take us the shortest way to St. John the Evangelist Catholic Church in Valley, Nebraska, on Saturday evening, and the GPS took us on old Highway 30 – the Lincoln Highway – which at that point is a brick road. Lincoln Highway was built in the early 20th century and passes through a total of 14 states, 128 counties, and more than 700 communities across the United States….

Lincoln Highway Omaha

My immediate family has history at Husker House Restaurant in Columbus. It was where we went for celebrations. My mom and dad celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary at Husker House. We celebrated birthdays and first communions and confirmations at Husker House. So, it’s a command performance when we are in Columbus. This time, Bec, my cousin Marilyn, and I toasted my parents with a Grasshopper following our fried chicken dinner….

marilyn bec kris grasshoppers

And the reason we chose fried chicken, my friends, is because by that time we had practically eaten nothing but beef because NEBRASKA. Bill, Bec, Jen, and I ate our first meal in Nebraska at a steakhouse. What else?……

bec bill jen kris sullivans 2016 omaha

And finally, what do you suppose I found on the shelves of a Hyvee Supermarket in Omaha, NE? Stewart’s Diet Orange and Cream soda. Yay Alastair!….

Kris Stewarts Hyvee Omaha

While I consider myself a Coloradan — at least mostly, deep down inside me, I am a Nebraskan-at-heart. And, by the way, Go Big Red!

Micekville

Posted in Whimsies by

In the town in which I grew up, the railroad tracks divided Columbus into two areas — the north side of the tracks and the south side of the tracks.  It wasn’t any kind of a formal division. Streets didn’t become avenues; street names didn’t change from North Whatever to South Whatever; there was no West Side Story or Hatfields and McCoys. The railroad tracks simply went all the way through the town, and trains passed through Columbus, dividing the town into two, about every 10 or 15 minutes, or at least that’s how it seemed. There was only one viaduct, so residents either drove out of their way to cross the tracks on the lone viaduct west of downtown or waited for the long train to makes its way past your street.

The Miceks — my family — lived on the south side of the tracks. And many proudly lived – at least for a period of a few years back in the post-WWII days when Baby Boomers were just out of diapers – within spitting distance of one another.

I learned about what I – and I, alone – call Micekville at the family reunion. Oh, I vaguely recalled that my mom and dad rented a house across from Grandpa Micek when Bec was a toddler and before I was born. By the time I came along, Dad and Mom had built their own home a full 10 blocks or so away, across the tracks. And I, of course, was also aware that my mom’s brothers Elmer and Leonard (along with their families) still lived near each other in the area just south of the railroad tracks even when Mom and Dad sold their business and their house and dropped anchor in Leadville, Colorado.

But I never knew that there was a point in time when my Grandpa Micek, then a widower, took in my mom’s sister Anne who had recently been widowed herself after a bolt of lightning killed her farmer husband, leaving her to raise five children on her own. Along with Anne and her children, my mom’s bachelor brother Ray moved into that same house across the street from where my folks lived. Just down the street, Leonard and Elmer had their homes, as did my mother’s brothers Bob and Ted and their families.

See what I mean? Micekville.

And just for good measure, my dad’s parents had a home just a stone’s throw from there. It was a village.

Eventually, two of my uncles moved their families not just out of Micekville, but out of Columbus altogether. Anne’s kids grew up and she and Ray moved near our home, as did my aunt and uncle, always called Cork and Jeep. It might have been on the north side, but the reality is that it was only a short bike ride away.

I'm happy to say the men standing in front of Glur's aren't my relatives. At least I don't think so....

I’m happy to say the men standing in front of Glur’s aren’t my relatives. At least I don’t think so….

Columbus’ original downtown was on 11th street, just south of the railroad tracks. At some point the downtown moved two blocks north to 13th street, which is where my folks had their bakery. After that change, 11th Street consisted mostly of bars or somewhat lonely businesses. But one of the businesses that wasn’t lonely was Glur’s Tavern. (Interesting article here.) Supposedly the oldest continuously-running tavern east of the Mississippi, it was just a hop and a skip from Micekville. Stop in any afternoon or evening, and you wouldn’t be surprised to see one Micek or another at the bar sipping a beer or a pop. Bec recalls the Micek clan gathering some evenings in Glur’s beer garden where she and her cousins would run and play, drink root beer and eat popcorn while the parents yakked. By time I came along, the beer garden wasn’t part of my parents’ leisure activities because they had a business to run. But I have vivid memories of walking hand-in-hand with my grandmother (who by that time lived in an apartment above the bakery) to Glur’s Tavern to get a strawberry ice cream cone. Always strawberry. And we inevitably had to wait for a train before we could cross the tracks to get to Glur’s. That was okay because we got to wave goodbye to the cabooseman. He always waved back.

The day after the reunion, Bill, Bec, Jen and I decided we wanted to stop at Glur’s Tavern to see if it had changed (it hadn’t, not even the towel in the bathroom) and to maybe have a burger and a pop. We walked into the door, and Glur’s was nearly empty except for one large group sitting in the middle of the room where several tables had been pushed together.

Guess who it was? Miceks. Billions and billions of Miceks. (Well, not really, but it almost seems like, doesn’t it?…..)

Miceks at Glurs

Sometimes, things don’t change as much as you think.

Reuniting

Posted in Whimsies by

I have mentioned perhaps four or five hundred times that my mother was the youngest in a large Catholic family. For the most part, her family lived in Boone County, Nebraska, in the heart of the Great Plains and smack dab in the middle of farm country. Her father was, among other things, a farmer, though it appears there was no family love for farming, as evidenced by the fact that none of the boys became farmers. In fact, the only reason there are farmers in the family is because some of my mom’s sisters married farmers. A glance at the family tree quickly tells me that my grandmother was, for all intents and purposes, pregnant for nearly 23 years, marrying in January of 1904 and having her first baby (who died the day he was born) in December of that same year. Mom was born in 1926.

And though my mom was a full 21 years younger than her eldest living sibling, she and her brothers and sisters were a close-knit group. My grandmother (understandably exhausted after giving birth for the 14th time, after which she undoubtedly told my grandfather to get his own bedroom) died before my mother reached adulthood, and was sick for quite a while before she died. So my mother was largely cared for by older sisters. Her closest friends were her nieces and nephews, some her own age or older.

As I grew up in Columbus, I spent considerable time with my aunts and uncles, many of whom lived within walking distance of our home. Mom’s siblings, I think, were her best friends, even as an adult. She made sure we knew them all, even the ones who lived elsewhere. That’s commendable, I think, and something I took for granted, but appreciate now a great deal.

And I appreciated it even more during our visit last week to Nebraska where we attended a reunion of many of my cousins from my mom’s side. Oh my word, what a good time we had!

What I like about family (or at least what I like about THIS family) is that, though I hadn’t seen some of my cousins for several decades, it was like I had seen them yesterday. And even better, it was like talking to my mom.

The cousins range from farmers to school administrators, from truck drivers to highly-trained computer technicians. But they all have twinkly eyes (mostly blue) and a sharp sense of humor that is both self-deprecating and pointedly aimed. While not all of my living cousins were able to be there, we were lucky enough to have the oldest (living) and the youngest present. I laughed for three hours. I recalled my mom’s sense of humor and realized that my brother’s hilarious way of looking at life might come from her side of the family.

We reminisced. We caught up on kids and grandkids. We learned new things about our parents and were reminded of old things we had forgotten. Those of us who never knew our Micek grandparents got an education on not only their life, but what life was like back in the days when Grandpa Charles and Grandmother Anna were trying to raise their large boisterous family. That was from which the music commenced, I learned. Grandpa wanted to keep his boys busy and out of trouble so he bought them all a musical instrument and they learned to make music together.  The music bug took….
Micek orchestra (2)

Bobby Mills 2 (2)I was reminded about the family reunions we used to have regularly as we grew up in the 1960s and 1970s. They were held in a variety of places. Sometimes we gathered at Pawnee Park in Columbus. We picnicked at least once at a cabin jointly owned by several of Mom’s brothers. But no matter where the reunion was held, we could count on a couple things: the food would be delicious and plentiful, and we wouldn’t run out of beer. Just like last week’s reunion, there was always lots and lots of laughing.

Without this reunion, I wouldn’t have seen this photo of my mother for the first time…..

Mom photo 1 (2)

Or seen how absolutely STUNNING my Aunt Vickie was when she was young……

Vickie (2)

Or seen these beautiful wedding photos of my aunts and uncles….

photo table

This reunion reminded me once again just how important family – extended family – is in our lives and how family helps make us who we are……

cousins 2016 reunion

Back row (l-r) Bill, Jim, Rhonda, John, Joni, Marilyn, Kris, David M., Tom; Front row (l-r) Kathleen, Nancy, Jen, Mary, David K., Bec, Andrew

This post linked to the GRAND Social

Saturday Smile: Strings

Posted in Whimsies by

Our 7-year-0ld grandson Joseph has been taking violin lessons for a grand total of three weeks. This week, we received this video of his accomplishment to date.

Itzhak Perlman started somewhere, ladies and gentlemen. And I’ll bet Perlman always practices with his shirt on….

Joseph made me smile.

Have a great weekend.

Thursday Thoughts

Posted in Whimsies by

Family Affair
We got back from our family reunion in Nebraska late Tuesday afternoon. We were all very tired and pretty sluggish yesterday. It was about an eight-hour drive, but we had four drivers and took many breaks. One of our breaks was at the Runza Hut, a Nebraska fast-food restaurant chain. There are a few Runza Huts here in Colorado, but for some reason it would never even occur to me to eat at one. However, it is almost always a stop either going or coming on road trips to Nebraska. Runzas are bread wrapped around ground beef that is cooked with onions, cabbage, and spices. I’m always excited and optimistic, but equally always somewhat disappointed in the flavor. Still, it is a tried-and-true Nebraska treat….

runza

Sauna
When we stepped out of our car in North Platte, Nebraska, as we were driving to Omaha, we were smacked in the face by a temperature of 100 degrees or more and a humidity level of somewhere in the neighborhood of 75 percent. Anyone who has lived in a high-humidity area knows what that feels like. It seriously is like you have been hit in the face with a board. I’m happy to say that the weather improved a bit from that day, but it reminded me of just why my parents moved from Nebraska to Colorado.

Va Va Voom
I’m going to bore you all with stories about our reunion next week; in the meantime, however, I want to share a photo that I spotted on the photo table at the site of the reunion. I had never seen it before. It’s a photo of my mother, and I think she appears to be in the neighborhood of 15 or 16. That’s a total guess. The bright lipstick might make her a bit older, but I believe she wore bright lipstick her whole life. If I’m right, this would have been somewhere around 1940. Anyway, I’m fascinated by her hairstyle, and so very curious about how she got it to look that way. Did they have curling irons in those days? For a variety of reasons, I’m certain her mother didn’t style her hair, so who did? I find her to be spectacularly beautiful. I found that to be true of all of her sisters, in fact…..

young mom (2)

They Shortened the Sidewalks
In addition to attending the reunion, we spent one night in our old hometown of Columbus. Just for kicks, Jen took a walk, hoofing it from the school we attended to our old home, which we thought was soooooooo far away and why-oh-why do we have to walk this every single day. It was, in fact, fewer than 1000 steps. Well, Bec reminded us, our legs were shorter back then. For kicks, she took a couple of pictures of our school….
scotus centralSassy Spice
Yesterday afternoon, Bec (who will be visiting in Colorado for a bit) and I went out to lunch at a Mexican restaurant. Nine-year-old Dagny had stopped by earlier, and she went along with us to the restaurant to eat. When it came time to order, she asked the server to bring her the chicken wings. The server looked a bit taken aback. “Do you want me to make them less spicy?” Nope, Dagny answered quickly. “Would you like the sauce on the side?” the server suggested. Dagny assured her she liked them spicy and wanted the sauce right on the wings. The server looked doubtful, but left with our order. She returned a bit later with our food, including Dagny’s wings. Dagny proceeded to eat her wings. “Are they spicy?” I asked her. “Nope, they are not nearly spicy enough,” Dagny said. “In fact, I think they added something sweet, and I wanted them hot.” I took a bite, and quite agreed. She was fairly perturbed! Sassy Spice, indeed.

Ciao.

Guest Post: Reluctant Traveler: A Capital Idea

Posted in Whimsies by

By Rebecca Borman

bec-closeup-twoWhen a wave of heat and humidity hit me, as soon as I stepped off the train at Washington’s Union Station, I knew I was in the south.  I wouldn’t be needing the sweater I wore on the somewhat chilly train.  I caught a cab and enjoyed a few minutes’ drive through our nation’s capital, truly one of the most beautiful cities in the world.  When the cab pulled up to the Fairfax on Embassy Row, I noted that it was, indeed, on a quiet street in that area.  Too quiet?  I had come for the big city experience.  When I got to my room it struck me that this hotel was the exact opposite of the new and very modern hotel in NY.  The Fairfax is an historical building, very lovely and classic.  It was a nice contrast.

I needn’t have worried about being too far from activity.  I asked the desk where I might find a convenience store and some restaurants, and their directions said a block either way would get me what I wanted.  Oh, yes, it did!  I was an easy block from Q St., with its Dupont Circle metro station and just about every kind of restaurant and store you could desire.  In fact, I was only a couple of blocks from what might be the best bookstore in the country, Kramerbooks, and its excellent café, Afterwords.  Ahhh, I was happy!  I checked out the area, ate a late lunch, and went back to change into my Nationals jersey, because a Nats game was to be my evening adventure.

My good friend Cathy met me at the main gate of Nats Park, and after very girlish screams of delight at seeing each other, we bought waters and peanuts and found our very good seats.  Through batting practice and the game, we caught up with each other’s lives and talked about mutual friends.  There are many reasons I love watching baseball, and one is that there’s room during the game for conversation.  Although the Nats lost, there were some exciting moments, and it was treat to watch my team in the Park, with one of my best friends.

The next day I got a leisurely start; two evening activities and very busy days had worn me out.  Eventually, I took the metro to Woodley Park/Zoo, just one stop away from Dupont Circle.  It’s about a half mile walk to the zoo, which seems longer because it’s all up-hill.  Once I got to the zoo, I reveled in the fact that, like so much in DC, IT IS FREE!  I hadn’t been there in several years, and I was happy to see some attractive improvements.  But, of course, the real reason I was there, the real reason pretty much everyone goes there, was to see the star attraction:  the pandas.  It was very hot and I feared the pandas would eschew the yard for their air conditioned inside quarters.  But, both the adult and the baby panda were out and about.  So cool to see!

DC pandas

As I walked downhill to the metro station, I realized I was hungry.  No problem.  There are plenty of restaurants to choose from in Woodley Park.  I stopped for a quick bite to eat, then got back on the subway for my short ride back to Dupont Circle and my hotel.  I rested and cooled off in the room a bit and then took a walk around the area.  I had a drink at La Tomate, a place where I had in the past often met a friend for Sunday brunch.  More walking took me past other familiar sights, places I had known and enjoyed when I lived in the area. As it was getting to be time for dinner, I got back on the metro, going the other way this time.  I would go to the city’s somewhat new “Penn Quarter” area, and have dinner at Legal Seafood.  All I can say is: 8 raw oysters and a delicious crab cake made me a happy lady.

My first day and a half in our nation’s capital were lots of fun, but there was more in store for me.  One of the events I most enjoyed when I lived in Virginia was the annual Smithsonian Folklife Festival on the Mall.  Every year, the festival celebrates cultures from around the US and the world.  This year’s emphases were on Basque culture and “the sounds of California.”  I walked around for several hours, learning about Basque music, food, games, art, and crafts like cheese-making and boat-DC herbsbuilding.  I watched a demonstration of Basque cooking and, of course, choose Basque food for my lunch.  While I ate, I sat on the lawn and listened to a good jazz band in the California area.  Once I had seen everything there, I ducked into the West Wing of the Smithsonian Museum of Art, just on the other side of the Mall.  It’s a beautiful space, and the cool air felt good.  And, how could I be in DC and not visit the Medieval and Renaissance art exhibit, especially Leonardo da Vinci’s Genevra, the only one of his works in the Americas. I spent about an hour there, then left the cooled air of the museum and walked back to the Smithsonian metro station.  On the way, I passed the Festival Store, and found a couple of things I couldn’t live without.

After I got back to my hotel, I had a call from my son, Erik.  Coincidentally, he and his family were in the area visiting friends and my daughter-in-law’s family.  He wondered if we could all meet up somewhere for dinner.  That sounded great to me!  After a back and forth discussion, we decided on Clyde’s in Penn Quarter.  I looked forward to seeing everyone and to another good meal.  But, I also had a bit of a problem.  When I planned this trip, I was determined to eat at two restaurants:  Legal Seafood (check) and Old Ebbitt’s Grill.  There were no reservations to be had at Old Ebbitts for our large group.  So, I would have to make a solo visit on my way to dinner.  I sat at the bar and enjoyed a glass of wine, 6 of the best oysters I’ve ever eaten, and conversations with several other patrons as well as the excellent bartender.  (Another check!)  It was a short walk to Penn Quarter, where I met my family and had a fun dinner.  My grandkids were excited to tell me all about their adventures, and I was eager to tell my own stories as well.  It was a lovely way to end my two days in Washington.

The next morning, I had breakfast at a Dupont Circle restaurant, shopped a little in Kramerbooks, then got on the new silver line of the metro to travel to Vienna, Virginia, where I would attend a wedding and festivities surrounding it.  It was a great way to end my East Coast Swing, as I got to catch up with a number of much-missed friends.

I’m learning that sometimes going back to familiar places is as fun as traveling to new ones!

Guest Post: Reluctant Travel: New York Adventure Day 2

Posted in Reluctant Traveler, Whimsies by

 

bec-closeup-two By Rebecca Borman

My second full day in New York was July 4th.  I would be celebrating our nation’s independence in one of its early capital cities.  I hadn’t planned the second day as carefully as the first, because my big adventure would be in the evening.  I decided to walk across the street to Macy’s and see if I could find something fun to wear for the holiday.  I did, but mostly I enjoyed riding up and down the old wooden escalators.  I also enjoyed a breakfast bagel in Herald Square because, why not?

I decided I would take the subway to the Upper West Side and see what was going on there.  It’s a different world from mid-town.  I walked for quite a while along Central Park and even walked into the park for a bit; there were many families, couples, and bikers enjoying the holiday.  I started feeling hungry and checked my phone to see if there was a good diner nearby.  John’s Old Luncheonette popped up, and it was only a couple of blocks away.  When I walked in, I knew I had made a good choice.  No fancy food or surroundings here, and a quite small menu.  But, it is clearly a neighborhood place; I was the only customer they didn’t greet by name.  I ordered a Long Island Dip sandwich, which is a French dip but on a Kaiser roll.  It was yummy and inexpensive.  I walked out of there for only $12, including the tip.  It was a far cry from my $23 martini on Saturday night!

Remembering that I had a big evening ahead of me, I took the subway back to my hotel and decided to relax for a few hours.  My room was beautiful and it seemed silly not to enjoy that view for a bit.  I rested until it was time to walk to Pier 83, from which a Circle Line Cruise would take me (and many hundreds of others) to see the fireworks from New York Harbor.

Bec NYC cruise line

It was a fun evening aboard one of the six Circle Line ships that set sail that evening.  I scored a seat outside on the upper deck, so I could see the city from a different perspective.  As we sailed around the tip of the island, we passed near the Statue of Liberty, which seemed appropriate on this holiday.  We arrived at our designated spot quite early, but we were entertained by a helicopter fly-over and by a fire boat that was spraying enormous plumes of red, white, and blue water.  Light rain dampened our spirits a bit, but we stayed under cover for a while, and the rain let up long enough for the firework display, which was as spectacular as everyone had expected.  We slowly made our way back to the pier, by which time it was raining steadily.  We all knew we would be walking in the rain back to our various hotels.  A distance of a mile and half isn’t far to walk unless it’s 11:30 PM and raining.  But, the fireworks were worth it, and I’d do it all again.

The next morning, it was time to close out my New York adventure and head to DC, so I walked the two blocks to Penn Station, climbed aboard the Acela train, and prepared to enjoy a quiet three-hour trip to Part II of my East Coast Swing.

Guest Post: Reluctant Travel: New York Adventure Day One

Posted in Reluctant Traveler, Whimsies by

By Rebecca Borman

bec-closeup-twoI love my state of Arizona and the wide open spaces of the west in general.  But, sometimes I long for two East Coast cities, New York and Washington, D.C.  When I learned that I was invited to the wedding of a friend’s son in one of the DC suburbs, it seemed the perfect opportunity to spend a week or so visiting some old haunts.  So I booked airline and train tickets, reserved hotel rooms and, in early July, set off for what I thought of as my East Coast Swing.

I arrived in New York on a Saturday evening, so the taxi ride into the city was fairly quick.  I checked into what looked to be a fabulous hotel, unpacked a couple of things, and set off from the Renaissance Midtown Hotel on 35th St. to Times Square.  Traditionally, my first evening in the Big Apple includes a martini in the awesome 8th floor bar in the Renaissance Marquis, which overlooks the madness of Times Square.  I love sipping a martini, munching on an app, and watching the crowds of people down below.  I took my time on the way back to my hotel, even stopping to do a little shopping for something I’d forgotten.  For some reason, it feels decadent to be able to shop at 10:00 at night!  After all, it’s the city that never sleeps.

View from Bec NYC windowThe next morning, I took time to enjoy the view from my 29th floor room…truly amazing.  I didn’t linger long, however, because I had plans for the day.  I ran (well, walked) a quick errand, then set off to walk to a church I love, St. Francis Xavier, near Union Square.  The church itself is beautiful, like something you’d see in Europe.  And, the Mass there, as always, was uplifting.  After Mass, I stopped in a bakery I’d discovered a couple of years ago.  I didn’t want to carry around their specialty, a chocolate/Nutella babka all day, so I settled for a tasty rugelach to eat on my way to lunch.  (Yes, dessert before lunch.  Don’t judge!)

And where to have lunch was a no-brainer.  I was less than a mile from NY’s NYC fruit stand becEataly, one of my favorite places in Manhattan.  Just walking in the door makes me smile, as you are immediately hit with the sight of beautiful produce and the smell of every kind of good food.  I chose to have a charcuterie and cheese plate and, of course, a glass of wine.  After checking out the display cases of fresh pasta, meats, and seafood, I stopped for a shot of espresso on my way out the door.

Lunch Eatily NYC

I walked a few blocks to catch a subway down to the Brooklyn Bridge, which was my next destination.  One of the few things I try to do every time I’m in NYC is a walk across the Brooklyn Bridge.  It’s such a beautiful and awesome structure!  The walkway was crowded and I took my time, simply enjoying the activity and the views.  Once on the other side, I walked just a few blocks north to the Manhattan Bridge.  Now, the Manhattan Bridge is not particularly beautiful, and it’s very noisy because of the vehicle and train traffic, which is on the same level as the walkway.  But, it has a great view of the Brooklyn Bridge.  And, as you get to the Manhattan side, you are looking across and down into some interesting neighborhoods, and, eventually, into China Town.  Once off the bridge, I walked through China Town to get to another favorite place in NY, Little Italy.

Little Italy is…well little.  But, the Italian spirit is definitely there.  I walked in and out of a few shops, bought some souvenirs for my grandkids, and checked out some menus.  I found a restaurant that looked good and stepped up to ask for a table outside.  The host, an elderly gentleman, spoke to me in Italian until my blank face no doubt made it clear that I didn’t understand a thing he was saying!  He gave me a primo table right by the street, and I could tell he was instructing the server to take care of me.  I lingered over a glass of wine and a salad before ordering a bowl of pasta that was, of course, fabulous.  I bought a small gelato for dessert and enjoyed it as I walked out of Little Italy and toward the subway station, just a few blocks away.

By the time I got back to my room, I was bushed!  So, I relaxed on the sofa by my window, read, and enjoyed watching the lights come on in the buildings around me.  Day One in the Big Apple was a success.

Saturday Smile: Director of the Garden

Posted in Whimsies by

Those of you who know me, or who are faithful readers of my blog, know that I am a big fan — huge — of chef Lidia Bastianich. So I was delighted that the most recent issue of AARP Magazine had a fairly short interview with her about gardening. I have gleaned from being a faithful viewer of her cooking show on PBS that she loves to garden. So does her mother, who is 95 years old and going strong.

Here is a link to the article, which made me smile…..

1140-the-joy-of-gardening-lidia-bastianich.imgcache.rev1464097886632

Here are words from somewhere in the middle of the article that resonated with me….

Mamma: I am director of the garden.

Lidia: Nothing goes in without her OK. The other thing about gardening is that it’s not only about food. It’s nice movement when you’re at a mature age. You have to bend down. It’s continuous moving, back and forth. Mamma never went to a doctor till she was 80, and finally I told her she had to go.

Mamma: They do this test, that test, they shake me up and down. At the end they say, “You know what? Go home. Do what you did until now.”

Read the article. It will make you smile.

Have a great weekend.

Thursday Thoughts

Posted in Whimsies by

The Promised Land
Kaiya and Mylee were in the back seat of my car the other day and we were heading for my house. Mylee expressed (perhaps more than once or twice, and perhaps in a tad whiny voice) that she was very, very, maybe even VERY thirsty. Kaiya, who had finally had enough complaining, said, “Mylee, Moses had to put up with it, so you do too.” Now, that was very random, and for many reasons, not the least being that I’m not even sure how Kaiya knows who Moses is. But it brought about a further conversation about Moses. I explained that Moses led his people to the promised land. It is true, I noted, that at one point the people were very hungry and thirsty, but they prayed to God and he fed them. (I didn’t add that the people were actually whining much like Mylee.) How did Moses die, Mylee wondered. I said the Bible never says how he died, but it does tell us that he never made it into the promised land. Mylee was quiet for a few seconds, and then told me, “I know why he didn’t make it. He only had one snack and so he starved to death.” Bible History 101.

Half-Mast
As I have been driving around town, I keep seeing flags at half-mast. It occurred to me that generally, whenever a flag is flying at half-mast, I have to stop and think about what happened that created the need for this solemn display of the flag. It seems to me that the flags are almost at a constant half-mast stage these days. So very sad.

V-rooooooom
I have mentioned before that I have owned a scooter for almost 10 years. I don’t exactly recall how might thought process came about, but I vividly recall that I suddenly began thinking that I wanted to buy a small motorcycle so that Bill and I could ride together. I mentioned that to Bill, and he managed to keep a straight face. After some heavy-duty swallowing, he suggested that perhaps I might consider a scooter instead. The rest is history. What many people don’t know, however, is that I hadn’t had my scooter for that long when Bill began noticing just how much fun I was having while scooting around town. Before long, Bill too was the proud owner of an identical scooter. He doesn’t ride his as much as I ride mine, but we have had our share of fun times on our scooters….

Bill Kris scooters

I-80, Here We Come
My sister Bec arrived yesterday afternoon to spend a few weeks in Colorado to escape the incessant heat of the desert. She and Jen and Bill and I will leave tomorrow to drive to Nebraska where we will be spending a long weekend in our old stomping grounds. Well, they aren’t really Bill’s old stomping grounds, but he will stomp just about anywhere. On Saturday, our relatives on our mother’s side are gathering for a reunion. Mom was the youngest of 13, so there are oodles of cousins. I’m not sure how many are going to come to the reunion, because we are none of us spring chickens any longer. But it will be fun to see everyone and talk about old times. If we can remember any, that is.

Ciao!