Originally published September 1, 2014

Today we celebrate Labor Day, but I honestly had no idea what the holiday meant.   I understand Fourth of July and Thanksgiving and even Memorial Day, but I never delved into the meaning of Labor Day.  Until now.  That’s one of the benefits of the Internet; you can learn about anything.

According to the “Time” magazine web site, Labor Day traces its origin to a parade in New York City in 1882.  It was designed as a festival to celebrate the common laborer, and about ten thousand people showed up. Over time, especially as unions became stronger and more influential, the parade was formalized into a holiday on the first Monday of September in 1896.

The official holiday is 118 years old this year; and while union membership has declined in recent years, “Time” noted there are still many challenges facing workers.  And it’s not just people in the fast food industry and other lower rungs of the financial ladder.  Consider the corporate professional who often works ten or more hours a day, puts in unpaid overtime on weekends, and is only a text or tweet away from the office.

Now that I’m informed, I plan to celebrate the holiday by paying more attention to the plight of various working groups.  And by taking a nap!

Originally published August 25, 2014

I don’t know what possessed me.  Me, who won’t play piano in public.  Me, who envies prodigies who started playing before attending kindergarten.  Me, who is fighting weakening wrists and arthritic fingers. Yes, that me.

I voluntarily volunteered (as opposed to being commandeered) to play background music at my family’s annual Thanksgiving dinner this November. I must have been without my senses at the time.

So here I am, with about ten weeks to put together my first “concert.”  The audience will be forgiving – I know that – but the real question is “Will I forgive myself if I don’t do well?” Remains to be seen, but it is spurring me to practice.  And enjoying it.

My piano teacher has always accused me of hanging on to music that I’ve mastered instead of eagerly pursuing new music ahead. The thing is that every time I revisit a piece I learned a year or two ago, the knowledge that I’ve gained in the interim re-informs my understanding of the former assignment.  So this concert plays into that.

I’m making a plan.  Choosing various arrangements that I’ve enjoyed mastering over the years; interspersing them with simpler pieces; and mentally psyching myself that the more I practice the easier it will be.

I’ve never been afraid to talk or give a speech or speak extemporaneously in public.  Maybe this will be my breakthrough with music.

Originally published June 3, 2014

I planned to take the South Shore Commuter Train to Chicago today and headed to Michigan City to pick it up early this morning.  All went well until I arrived at the station and saw at least one hundred children, probably grade school age judging from their appearance and behavior, hovering near the tracks.

Whoa, my mental reins pulled in. Does this mean I’ll have to stand for the two hour ride?  Or will some polite youngster offer a seat? Will I listen to unbridled laughter and silliness when I’d planned on concentrated effort regarding a project for two hours?

I went to the stationmaster.

“Are there enough seats on the train to accommodate all the children and adults,” I inquired.  After all, until I purchased the ticket, there was still the option of driving all the way to Chicago.  She said yes without elaboration.  So I plunked my money down, took my ticket, and headed to where I hoped the train doors would open so that I could be among the first to hop on.

It was interesting.  There were two groups of excited children standing on the track with a group of not-so-excited adults waiting in between them.  One woman actually said aloud to another, “What car are the children going to be in?  We want to be in a different one.” My sentiments exactly, although I had nobody to share them with aloud.

The train finally arrived and inhaled all the passengers.  Sure enough, there was room for everyone with various age groups choosing different cars.  Possibly the children didn’t want to be with the older riders any more than they wanted to be with the children.  All in all, it made me think that the train system has had this experience before and knew what to do.  The ride into Chicago was most pleasant, and I got to work on my project uninterrupted.

Originally published May 29, 2014

I have added a new challenge to my workout routine. As the title of this entry suggests, it’s jumping rope.

As a youngster, I loved jumping rope.  In grade school my friends and I would jump for the entire fifteen minute recess. In college, I avoided gym classes for the entire four years but still jumped rope. I also jumped rope with my own children, impressing them that someone as “ancient” as I could still do “Down the M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I where the tug boats push.”

So I bought a jump rope recently, the kind you custom cut to your size since the right length is essential for skilled jumping.  And now I bring it to the gym.  The good news is that I still have the balance and ability to jump; the bad news is I can no longer do it for fifteen minutes.

But I’ll work up to it. Then I’ll find two people who will turn for me so I can tackle the Mississippi again.

Originally published April 15, 2014

I’m driving around doing last minute errands before heading to Boston in forty-eight hours.  I don’t know what it is, but various trucks and billboards have caught my eye.  I should be concentrating on driving – especially now that I have an automatic transmission which encourages day-dreaming – but instead I’m musing over our ever-changing language. (I am daydreaming after all.)

It started with a truck that passed me with SWP plastered on its side along with a large can of paint.  I deciphered this as Sherwin Williams Paint.  Which made me think about KFC.  In my younger days, it was Kentucky Fried Chicken. Just as BK was Burger King.

Abbreviations seem to be the new dialect these days.  I blame texting for starting this phenomenon.  Okay is now truncated to ‘k?’  Please is now ‘pls.’ Thank you is ‘thx.’ Then there’s the ever present ‘app’ ready to be applied to your smart phone or iPad.  Does anyone remember that this really stands for application?

I acknowledge language is a living thing, one that is always adding and subtracting. Still, I’m from the school that believes there are certain inviolate rules.  For instance, OMG would never appear in a Biblical reference even though I just saw it on a sign promoting the Twin City Players’ current offering, “A Streetcar Named Desire.”

Originally published April 2, 2014

“You never blogged about your recent trip to Costa Rica,” Earl noted, as we munched on baked potato fries.  My mouth was full, so I simply nodded.

He’s right. I usually blog whenever we’re on vacation, but for some reason I went completely off the grid in Costa Rica.  Maybe it was the sudden change in temperature. It was a bone-chilling seventeen degrees when we boarded the plane in New York City and a scorching ninety-nine degrees when we arrived in Quepos, CR, several hours later. Or maybe it was because we were so busy during the day that we collapsed at night when I might normally stay up and write.  Or maybe it was because I just didn’t feel like it.

I’ve been home about ten days now and have moved on to anticipating my next adventure. Still, Earl’s comment made me pause.

What do I want to remember about this recent trip to a wonderful country? For starters, being with family is always great.  And returning to a resort that holds fond memories of previous trips is special too. But most of all, I’m thrilled that Costa Rica hasn’t changed all that much in the ten years since my last visit.

The tropical vegetation thrives; the flora and fauna are beautiful and plentiful.  After all, where else in the world is hunting banned like it is in Costa Rica? And the people are genuinely gracious from the taxi driver to the bartender to the woman who rents chairs on the beach.

Of course there is construction and better roads and a new marina that will probably signal serious growth for Quepos in the near future. But there is no McDonald’s, no Starbuck’s, and no Wal-Marts.  Instead a new supermarket near our resort blended with surrounding buildings.  And the owner of Si Como No! (translates as So, Why Not?) , where we stayed, shared that the new government is interested in planned growth that doesn’t tax the infrastructure of the country or change its ecology.

I’m sure there are financial considerations to all this too, but I’m thrilled to defy Thomas Wolfe’s sentiment that “You can’t go home again.”  If it’s Costa Rica, you still can.

Originally published November 6, 2013

Bermuda has more than four hundred years of British history under its belt, and it shows. A large fort greets the cruise ships as they dock and an old fashioned pub, the Frog and Onion, is within walking distance of the gangway. That’s where many cruisers headed to, but Earl and I chose to see some sights on segues instead.

The island itself is shaped like a giant fish hook with the dockyard on the tip end.  That’s where we met our guide, Disa, who gave our group a quick lesson on riding a segue.  It’s all about balance and confidence. If you ever ice skated as a child, you’ll have a sense of the mechanics of it. Strong ankles are helpful.

Disa led the way as we left the dockyard and rode single file around some of the sights:  the old clock towers, the yard in the center of the fort where English soldiers took their lunches, the cannons that protected the island from invasion, and the dolphin museum which probably is a more recent addition to the local scene.

Eventually, we took a road out of the city to a residential area, a church that had once housed slave quarters, and an interesting cemetery. I ambled through some random headstones in the cemetery and was surprised that not one of the deceased had seen his fortieth birthday.  Most had been seamen; several had died from wounds; one, age twenty-two, drowned.

Next we stopped at a beach known for its sea glass and then segued past the newly built prison where Disa said that conditions in the new facility were nicer than some Bermudans had it on the street. It still didn’t entice me to assault someone to check this out.

Originally published October 31, 2013

This afternoon Earl and I took a tour of Lisbon, the capital of Portugal and the only European port we’ll be seeing on this trip.  We understand that an afternoon with a tour guide isn’t the same as a week or two in-country. At the same time, its merits are underrated.

I’d planned to study up on Portugal before climbing aboard the tour bus, but I didn’t. Instead I took the guide’s descriptions at face value with nothing to calibrate them by. And when the day was done, I felt as if I learned all about a city that was stuck in time.

Lisbon’s glory days were five hundred years ago when the country was known for its maritime explorations.  Vasco de Gama, for instance, accomplished what Christopher Columbus only wished. He found the actual route to the Indies around the South African Cape of the Horn and enabled Portugal to control those seas for one hundred years.

Portuguese explorers traveled to Brazil, various ports in Africa, India, Macao, and China. You could hear the pride in our guide’s voice as she described her country’s influence.  Never mind that the buildings we passed as she spoke were riddled with graffiti.

We stopped for photos at three monuments: a monastery and a fortress that were built in the Middle Ages.  The third, the Monument of the Discoveries, commemorates the golden age of Portuguese exploration and depicts King Henry the Navigator and thirty-two amazing human sculptures standing on the bow of a ship. It was dedicated in 1960.

Overall, we loved the tram ride with its samplings of port wine and custard pastries.  We loved the hillsides on which Lisbon is built.  We loved the bridge that resembles the Golden Gate in San Francisco, primarily because it was built by the same engineering company.

And, if you want to know what an afternoon excursion’s real value is, it is this.  Now that I’ve been to Lisbon and seen the sights, it makes me want to actually do the homework I should have done in the first place.

Originally published October 5, 2013

I had hoped to blog a lot about London during our stay, but when it boiled down to visiting more sights or writing about ones we’d seen, I chose the former.  Besides, such guides as Fodor’s can tell you more about any attraction than I possibly can.

However, since we head to Southampton tomorrow to board the Crown Princess and sail away, here are my unedited impressions of some of the sights we saw.

Favorite tourist attraction: Earl liked the Churchill War Rooms while I liked that concrete cemetery known as Westminster Abbey. (http://www.westminster-abbey.org/)  Since neither is a public museum, entrance to each was pricey but worth it.

Least favorite attraction: The oversized giant Blue Cockerel in Trafalgar Square (http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-23448832) left Earl pretty cold.  The fact that public restrooms are not free caught me off guard.  I actually didn’t mind, once I got used to the prospect except the fee for them is not uniform across the city.  I was always looking for coins.

Other sights we visited: Prince Albert Hall, St. Paul’s Cathedral, the Tower of London, the crown jewels, the London Eye, and the Changing of the Guard.

Favorite meal: Dark stout (Yes, it’s a meal.), which explains why English pubs are so popular.  Second favorite meal: a hearty English breakfast. See for yourself at (http://www.jamieoliver.com/recipes/pork-recipes/the-full-english) Least favorite:  Everything else. We even opted for pizza this evening rather than more bangers and mash or fish and chips.

Most unexpected surprise: Sunny skies and mild temperatures the entire time.  We walked fifteen miles in three days without a drop of rain.

What we wanted to do but missed: The British Museum, The Globe Theatre, a play, high tea . . . and this is for starters. There is so much to see and do in London and the surrounding area that I can’t imagine how long one must stay to see everything.  After all, the British have been developing monarchies and monasteries and monuments for over a thousand years, and they’re all on display.

Originally published September 3, 2013

The casual end of summer – as opposed to the official calendar end on September 21 – occurred yesterday.  Not only was it a glorious finale, it was also a spectacular summer from beginning to end in our part of the country.

Earl and I have long commented that summer in Michigan is special; yet, most years found us roaming elsewhere.  We’ve gone to Canada, Alaska, Yellowstone, upstate New York., some of these places more than once.   Each was special, but we always returned wondering what we’d missed in our home state.

This summer we stayed put.  And here’s what we didn’t miss.

Fresh corn, picked in the morning, that I purchased at more than one local roadway fruitstand. We devoured it the same day.  Currently I have half a dozen ears I plan to blanch and freeze for winter.

Piggott’s tomatoes, the best in the county.  I’d heard about them for ages, but actually got to eat them this year. The largest, reddest geraniums I’ve ever planted. And the yellowest, fullest black eyed Susans. The Berrien County Youth Fair in August.  The upcoming Allegan County Fair this coming weekend. Sitting on our patio watching the sun go down. Sleeping with the windows open instead of with the drone of the air conditioner.

Fourth of July at friends’ home on the bluff where we saw fireworks explode over Lake Michigan without having to deal with the hassle of thousands of spectators crammed onto the beach.

Various small trips around the state to learn more about the place where we live.  We visited the Rouge Plan in Dearborn, Greenfield Village, Bronner’s Christmas Shop in Frankenmuth, Charlevoix, Beaver Island, and Petoskey, where Earl bought a Petoskey stone as a souvenir.

But most of all, what I’ll remember is the feeling of contentment.  If this were to be my last summer on earth, it couldn’t have been more perfect.