To talk well and eloquently is a very great art, but an equally great one is to know the right moment to stop.
Wofgang Amadeus Mozart
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Tags: Quoting
A final look at our Pittsburgh house. It was that first glimpse of the fireplace in the living room that made me want it. I was house shopping without the hubster, and he, much to my great wonder, is a rather big J.R.R. Tolkien fan. He’s read all the books, in English and in French, and seen the movies, too, even “dragging” me to the first fil-um in The Lord of the Rings trilogy, during which I was so bored that I read a magazine in the half light of the theater – different strokes for different folks, dear peeps. Anyway, one glance at that Tolkien-esque metal work and I knew he would love it, that it was the place for us. And it was!
We loved it as best we could in the time we had, with light fixtures, paint and plants, odd repairs and new doors, while squeaking around on century old floors (it’s a rhyme!). We spied birds through wavy glass and marveled at the solidity of the stone foundation, the sturdiness of brick. This great house has seen so much.
And my prediction, that it would all feel like some strange dream, is already coming to fruition. Out walking together, we laughed aloud, “Wow, Pittsburgh! That really did happen!”
And home, again. The Front Range capped in snow and those bewitching Colorado skies. Not for a moment realizing the adrenaline that was keeping me fueled, it took a good few days for me to recover from the trip west. There were many long naps for this non-napper and even longer nights of sound slumber. Thankfully, I am more myself and inching my way out into the world. Maybe I’ll see you around. I’m the one with the camera, gawping at mountains and blue skies like they were only recently invented!
Tags: Colorado, Pittsburgh
Promise me you’ll always remember: You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.
A.A. Milne
Tags: Quoting
Missouri to Nebraska, that is, and day two of our glorious drive west. That’s the Mississippi River, running swift and high, high, high. And the view of it? One and the same Samuel Clemens A.K.A. Mark Twain had when he was a boy in Hannibal. How cool is that? Hannibal is a charmer of a town, with many of the buildings from Mark Twain’s day in fine repair and available for touring, though not on New Year’s Day at ten in the morning, for your information. We did enjoy fine hospitality and good coffee at the Java Jive, however.
Whoa Nelly! The shadow of the Mini looks rocket powered with our roof rack, zooming through the golden plains to Lincoln. The capitol building is the second tallest among America’s fine fifty. Isn’t she a beauty?
Tags: Traveling
Me and my best love, our drive west and the Mini packed tight. We had seven suitcases, three tote bags, one duffel bag, one milk crate, one Vitamix (nestled between us in the arm rest!), one computer monitor, one fire extinguisher, and one gallon of laundry detergent! The heavy burden made our car 10 miles per gallon less efficient and injured my right arm so terribly that I could not move it AT ALL for three days. Oof. But boy howdy, was it worth it! We are home. And what a marvelous drive we had, missing every bit of bad weather. We saw not one snowflake nor rain drop fall, and were treated to some of the most gorgeous landscapes America has on offer. My love for this great country has been galvanized further still, yes ma’am.
And the little white house, off of Sangamon Avenue in Springfield, Illinois, is where my Grandma Tess was born and my Great Aunt Mary lived until she was well into her seventies. Two adults, eight children, and who knows how many pets made their home in this wee two bedroom one bath. By some great stroke of luck, the current owner was sweeping the porch when we pulled up, and I asked him if we could go inside. He kindly obliged, and we spent the better part of the next hour sharing stories. Sadly for me, but great for the house, it is under renovation, with plastic and tarps obscuring the majority of the space. Thankfully, there was enough exposed to get a feel for it and my Grandma’s spirit in it, to see relatives I’ve only known in pictures puttering about, gazing out the window while washing a dish. Part of me is there now, too.
And Lincoln! It’s turned out to be quite a year for Colleen, Greg, and good ole Abraham. Gettysburg and Springfield – the train station from which he made many journeys and his final return, his law office, the old state capitol building where he worked, just one of many bronze monuments. And his crypt, which, wow, and hmmm, what to say? Evocative. If you have never been, go. Just go.
It was a sleepy New Year’s Eve, with us full up on sentimentality and hypnotized by a murmuration swirling about the capitol dome (that bit that looks like a smudge). The beat of wings the only sound we heard.
Tags: Traveling
