A year ago this week, we were in Grand Canyon National Park.
Selfies are hard. This is one of our better ones.
We stayed right in Grand Canyon Village. This was taken just outside our hotel—Thunderbird Lodge.
Shoshone Point—a wild and gorgeous spot in Grand Canyon National Park
Shoshone Point
We even took a helicopter tour—scary at first, but spectacular and worth the price.
This trip was motivated by the death of my close friend Carla who loved the Grand Canyon and whose ashes are spread there. (Carla is the person who set me up with my husband more than 33 years ago.) I would consider it my first “bucket list” trip of retirement, even though I didn’t retire until six months later.
I’m lucky to have a kind and hardworking husband who is willing to travel with me (within reason). He doesn’t love it like I do, but he usually ends up liking the trip a lot more than he thought he would.
Thirty-one years of marriage—that’s a whole lot of time together!
The Grand Canyon lives up to the hype. Go, if you can.
I don’t like cold weather. I especially dislike snow. We have so many places in the Northeast that are spectacularly beautiful—in the summer. The Finger Lakes region (aka the Southern Tier) of upstate New York is one of them.
This area is a very long drive from Boston (about 6 hours), so I made this weekend’s graduation trip to Ithaca a “bucket list” sort of trip. I have enjoyed my many visits up here, but I doubt I’ll be back again.
Stunning glass sculpture at the Corning Museum of Glass in Corning, NY
Corning Museum of Glass
The city of Ithaca, NY is on Lake Cayuga and I’ve seen it many times. This trip, I wanted to see the next Finger Lake over—Lake Seneca. It is equally beautiful and has the cute town of Watkins Glen at the bottom.
The harbor area in Watkins Glen on Lake Seneca
Watkins Glen is also home to one of New York’s most beautiful state parks.
Watkins Glen State Park
There are many wineries in the area, but I had never been to a cidery, so we stopped at South Hill Cider after graduation for a glass of hard cider and a charcuterie board. Lovely spot and their dry, sparkling Baldwin cider was great. I bought a bottle to take home.
The view at South Hill Cider in Ithaca, NY
There’s an expression you may have heard—Ithaca is Gorges. Its deep gorges and their accompanying waterfalls are truly gorgeous, and there are dozens of them all over the region. I had seen the showstopper—Taughannock Falls—on a previous trip, but wanted to check out a couple of others before we left.
I broke a toe once, really badly. I don’t even like to think about it. It hurt SO much. (I stubbed it on a futon leg while barefoot.) It was wildly out of alignment. My husband had to pop it back into place. OUCH! Doctors can’t really do anything about toes. They just taped it to the one next to it and I limped around until it healed.
Fortunately no bones were broken during our Friday night “bucket list” excursion in Ithaca. The take-off was much wilder than I thought it would be. I was holding on to the basket for dear life. But once we were floating, it was quite magical. I’ve been in a helicopter before, but this was different. It’s as close as you can imagine to being a bird. So very many shades of green. The bottom of the basket occasionally scraped on some tree tops. “No problem,” said our pilot Dar. “Basket cleaners,” he called them. And then handed us some leaves. 🍃
My husband and son got put to work on both takeoff and landing. I took pictures and videos.
Three people were already pre-loaded in the basket at this point. The rest of us scrambled in over the sides, once “Captain America” was upright. Up we go, with Dar’s hand on the “flame throwers” (which were a bit loud, when in use)We floated over some waterfalls in Ithaca’s Robert H. Treman State Park
The magic of floating in the air and Dar thanking his ground crew.I really did not want to drop my phone, but eventually I relaxed enough to hand it to a fellow passenger from Pennsylvania. He took this nice pic. Group selfie with DarFarms and fields and Lake Cayuga in the distance
I think we were all a bit nervous about the landing. Once he found a good spot, Dar had the heavier people, including my very strong husband, move to one side of the basket. We all crouched down with all body parts inside the basket. We dragged on the ground for a bit. My husband got out and helped hold us down, which he said was hard. (He got a rather large bruise as we attempted to “jump” the basket up and over a small ditch. Inside the basket, we actually jumped up and down.)
When instructed, I did not waste any time grabbing the bars and vaulting myself out of the basket in a move that my son described as “wildly athletic.”
My son was instructed to run out into the field and help the ground crew pull down Captain America.
The landingMy son and the ground crew pulling Captain America back to earth Everyone helped put Captain America back in his bag.
We celebrated with a roadside champagne toast and then the ground crew drove us back to our car!
National, statewide and local elections are all important. I always vote. I have a couple of friends who are very involved in town affairs. Sometimes I reach out to them before local elections. They advise me on who to vote for, when I’m unfamiliar with the candidates. There’s nothing wrong with that. If you have friends who share your values, you can ask them how to vote.
On the federal level in the United States, it’s all on the line in November. For those who missed the exceedingly well-researched TIME magazine cover story on how far Trump would go in a second term, here it is.
I hope voter turnout in November is huge and that people don’t waste their votes on third party candidates (or that creepy Kennedy who hates vaccines). Yes, Joe Biden is very old, but he’s the only candidate with a realistic chance of preventing an “imperial presidency that would reshape America and its role in the world.”
King Donald: This is not what the founders had in mind.
On September 17, 1787, at the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia, Benjamin Franklin was 81 years old and in terrible pain from gout and kidney stones. After hashing it out for more than two weeks (seven hours per day), he finally convinced thirty-nine convention delegates to sign the Constitution of the United States, with just three delegates refusing. (It would still need to be ratified by the states.)
At the end of the day, they all went out to dinner at the City Tavern in Philly. Delegate McHenry (Maryland) wrote a diary entry describing a conversation between Franklin and Elizabeth Willing Powel who said, “Well, Doctor, what have we got, a republic or a monarchy?” Benjamin Franklin responded:
The Room Where It Happened: Independence Hall, Philadelphia, where both the Declaration of Independence (1776) and the Constitution of the United States (1787) were signed
I like talking about the zeitgeist—current events and popular culture (especially movies and TV). I also love talking about books with my book group and music with my choir peeps. I enjoy hearing about people’s travels (to a point). I’m not a big sports fan, but if a Boston team is in the playoffs, I like to know what’s happening with that. Go Celtics ☘️! (and Bruins, I guess)
And as anyone who follows my blog knows, I despise Trump with a deep, burning, crimson hatred I’ve never felt for any other public figure in my lifetime, so I’m always up for any conversation which involves trashing him.
Am I the only one with a sign like this on display in my kitchen for the past 8 years?
I have nothing for this prompt. I mean, I’d never want to visit a war zone, or someplace similarly unsafe. I admire all the brave journalists, like Clarissa Ward, who are willing to bring us news from dangerous places around the world.
Totally unrelated, did anyone happen to see Billy Joel performing his 100th concert in Madison Square Garden on CBS Sunday night? He still sounds great—both voice & piano. After telling the audience he didn’t know what was going to happen on the high notes in “Innocent Man” (and giving them permission to grimace), he nailed it. He’s 74 years old. At one point, Sting (fit and ageless at 69) waltzed out in a perfectly tailored shiny suit and they did a jazz number, backed by the amazing band. It had the feeling of a GenX “rat pack” reunion. The audience (me included) sang along with all the songs, including the new one, but especially with the last one.
I recently attended a “live literature” performance. A wonderful actor named J.T. Turner brought Robert B. Frost and his poetry to life. Frost was born in San Francisco in 1874, but his mother moved the family back East after Frost’s father died. He graduated from Lawrence High School (about 30 minutes from here) and spent most of his life in New England. He died in 1963 at age 88 in Boston.
Of course, I was familiar with many of Frost’s poems. They are especially well known here in New England. However, I was unaware of the many tragic events in Frost’s life. While achieving great success in his lifetime, including an unprecedented four Pulitzer Prizes, Robert Frost suffered unfathomable losses and a strong family history of mental illness.
After losing his father from tuberculosis at age 11 and moving to Massachusetts, his mother died of cancer. In 1920, he had to commit his younger sister Jeanie to a mental hospital, where she died nine years later. Both he and his mother suffered from depression, and his daughter Irma was committed to a mental hospital in 1947. Frost’s wife, Elinor, also experienced bouts of depression.
Elinor and Robert Frost had six children: son Elliott (1896–1900, died of cholera); daughter Lesley Frost Ballantine (1899–1983); son Carol (1902–1940); daughter Irma (1903–1967); daughter Marjorie (1905–1934, died as a result of puerperal fever after childbirth); and daughter Elinor Bettina (died just one day after her birth in 1907). Only Lesley and Irma outlived their father. Frost’s wife, who had heart problems throughout her life, developed breast cancer in 1937 and died of heart failure in 1938.*
During the performance, I learned that the cause of death of Frost’s beloved son Carol was suicide. He was 38 and a poet, like his father. The actor portraying Frost said that Carol had chosen the woods. Lovely, dark and deep.
I’ll never hear that poem in quite the same way again.
Frost believed, as many do, that poetry is meant to be read aloud and I agree. Here is a recording of Robert Frost reading his poem “Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening.”
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