My 100 Dreams?

 Laura is posting "12 Days to a Happier, More Productive Life" on Facebook.  Day 2 is "Work on your List of 100 dreams."  I don't think I can scrape up 100 dreams that are at all realistic and possible.  Is that a sad sign of aging or a good sign of contentment?

I love to travel but there really are not many places on my bucket list any more.  I would be happy to go to Paris and St. Andrews, Scotland again--but am very hesitant about an overseas flight with the discomfort of crowded seats and the bewilderment of jet lag.  I have signed up for my "dream trip" of the Greek Islands including Patmos for September 2015 but I may back out.  If I don't get my money back, St. John's Monastery, the sponsor,  can have my donation. 

I would like to spend a whole week in New York City and feel as if I were living there with time to enjoy the sights and spend time with Dan and Raven without the pressure of a short stay.  That is certainly a possibility.  I'd like to see Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania, the town that Laura visited and absorbed when she was writing The Cortlandt Boys.  I'd like to visit old friends in Houston and Raleigh and my new Goodreads penpal in the state of Washington. And of course, I am eager to spend more time in Princeton and Gladwyne with the grandchildren (and their parents)!

I have dreams of  faith for my children and grandchildren but all I can do is to pray and leave that in God's hands.  I have dreams of  health and happiness for all of us--but again, I can try to live well and encourage Jim to live well, but much of that is out of my control also.  We are aging and our friends are aging. 

I dream of healing for the two young men whose families are posting on Caring Bridge.  I can pray for them and let them know of our support but that is all I can do. 

In this first year of retirement, I have done well appreciating each day and whatever happens in it.  Sometimes I have plans; sometimes I don't.  But there are books to read, music to enjoy, crossword puzzles to challenge me, good food to cook and eat, a world of information to explore on the internet, friends to contact via Facebook and email--it's all good. 

Grandma for Four Wonderful Days

Saturday:  I'm sitting in the living room listening to Jeff and Susan and Dan chat in the kitchen about bridge and chess and computer games.  The topics are of little interest to me, but I am enjoying their chatter anyway.

I took a very early flight Thursday morning non-stop from South Bend to Newark and then New Jersey Transit trains to Princeton where Susan picked me up.  Thursday evening I was able to observe Katie's dance classes and listen to both Katie and James sing in their Winter Concert at Princeton University Chapel.  The setting was beautiful and so was the music.

Dan came on Friday from Brooklyn and we shared a rental car for a ride to Gladwyne in time to admire Laura and Michael  as they left for a holiday party, Laura in the red maternity dress I gave her for Christmas.  Dan and I took care of Sam, Jasper, and Ruth.   I read stories to Ruth and rocked her as she instructed me in detail for her bedtime routine.  I listened to Jasper's latest enthusiasm--the ages of the oldest people ever as recorded in the Guinness Book of World Records. 

It's all great.  And there's more family time to come.  I am blessed.
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Sunday: There were 14 of us at our family Christmas party Saturday evening with Dan's friend Raven joining us as well.    We were missing Jim who had just finished giving exams at Notre Dame. Susan and Jeff put out a great buffet including the traditional fudge and Susan's mints.  There were many gifts and I was delighted that the "wellies" I got for Ruth and the lite brite lego sets for the little boys were a hit.  Again, it was wonderful to see how much everyone enjoyed each other's company.  Little Ruth said, "I love Katie," and  James and Michael were so good with their younger cousins.

It was a joy to worship with Laura and Jasper at Bryn Mawr Presbyterian Church  this morning and to hear Jasper sing along on "Gentle Mary Had  a Child" and "Joy to the World."   
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  Laura had tickets for The Nutcracker with the Philadelphia Ballet at 5 pm.  Ruth sat with me for the first half and Sam for the second.  Laura was a few rows back with the others.  Ruth was enthralled and Sam was very focused on watching.  It was fun to see it through their eyes. Meeting up with Michael in the mini-van afterwards was a challenge due to protests and street closings in the city.

Monday: Getting home today was also a bit of a challenge when my United flight from Philly was delayed for 90 minutes thus causing me to miss any connection in Chicago.  But United called my name and switched me to a Delta flight  and I was actually in South Bend five whole minutes before my originally scheduled time.

Tuesday:  After  such a wonderful trip, I woke up with a nightmare.  I was carrying a small child who was heavy and I could not find our home.  I kept asking people to help me find the way.  I never did get home in my dream.  I woke up.  Guess it doesn't take too much thinking to interpret my dream!

Back to Work?

For the first time in a year, I went into work.  Well, not really, but I volunteered as a reading consultant at the request of one of my former colleagues. 

This meant getting up early and getting dressed before 7:45 am!  It meant driving in what passes for heavy traffic in South Bend.  And it meant thinking about what I used to do without having to think really hard!  I prayed for wisdom and for a good experience for the man I would meet.

 I met with R and his tutor at Work One, the employment office in South Bend, where the school corporation has two adult education classrooms. R has been coming to class faithfully, is an excellent math student, and is just not making progress in reading as measured on test scores. 

I began by interviewing him and learning that his goal was to go to IVY Tech College but he cannot pass the entrance exams in reading and language.  English is his second or third language.  He had a diploma in his country of birth.  He was able to communicate orally with me well and to express his frustration with his lack of progress. 

R has lived in the United States for 12 years.  He works as a custodian at a university in town and has four school-age children. 

I found a test passage that we could read together so that I could analyze his decoding and vocabulary errors and determine how he worked through comprehension questions. I chose one on Georgia O'Keefe because it interested me.  He had never heard of her--so previewing on the basis of previous knowledge was not a possibility.  We looked through the questions at the end of the selection as "advance organizers."  We took turns reading aloud.  There were several words he could not decode in this middle school level passage and there were also words that he could not define that were essential to the meaning, such as "sculpture."  However, he answered 4/5 of the questions correctly after this exercise. 

I wrote up a report for him, his teachers, and his tutor.  When asked by one of them how it was working with me, he said, "Mary is perfect."  I had comforted myself earlier with the realization that even if I could not give him all that much help, the idea of having his teachers call in a consultant was affirming and would have its own repercussions.

I knew we had a rapport.  I was able to make specific suggestions for decoding, vocabulary, and comprehension work--and to model a session for his tutor.

But I was the one who was so touched by the process.  Here is a man who wants so badly to improve himself and it is so difficult.  I admired him greatly.

 I also am thinking that I need to keep using the skills that I have in some way as a volunteer. I'll check on R in a few weeks.  Maybe there will be others I can work with.    I had tried to work with students at the Juvenile Justice Center but gave up on trying to make it work as I went through the bureaucracy there.  Maybe after a year off, I am ready to get a bit more involved again.

A Typical Day--Maybe

Every once in a while, Laura posts a typical day in her life on her blog.   Yesterday I was thinking that I had occasionally done a similar thing years ago in my written journals--keeping track of the busy days when the children were little.  I thought maybe I would do that yesterday but Jim's doctor appointment and  scheduling of his heart catheterization procedure--and my need to reschedule my travel plans to the East coast next week made it an atypical day.  Laura points out that no day is "typical" however when she asks folks to keep time logs.

I will attempt to record today as a more "typical" day.

 I woke up very early--unusually early at 6 am.  My mind was racing, thinking about Christmas plans, travel plans, and Jim's health issues.  I got up shortly before 7 and began my back exercises on the floor at the prime TV time--7 am with CBS news to keep me amused.  I like Gayle King, Nora Roberts, and Charley Rose.  They are serious and pleasant and work well together.  If I watch at 7, the show is commercial free until maybe 7:15.  After that, it is hopeless to get in more than three minutes without a break.

Jim made coffee for us and brought in our newspapers-- the NY Times and the SB Tribune.  I read the Tribune while eating my homemade granola.  I usually give Jim the steroid eye drop before he leaves for work and then enjoy some laptop time--reading my email and the lectionary.

I looked through some organ music as possibilities for Sunday's service and then headed for church at 10 to practice for a while.  The next stop was CVS to look for boxed Christmas cards--not the right place to do that.  My haircut was next door at Salon Rouge with Ciera who has done my hair for a few years now.  I gave her a small stick of banket along with a little larger Christmas tip today.

I returned home to check email and make up our Shakeology drinks in the blender using OJ, milk, and frozen strawberries today.  I packed them up and delivered one to Jim at the circle near his Flanner office.  We chatted a bit and then I went to the ND bookstore where I bought a box of note cards to use as Christmas cards, an ND ornament as a fun gift for Katie who is considering Notre Dame for college, and a puzzle calendar for Jim as a Christmas gift--even though we said we were not giving each other anything but a trip to Florida.

I drove to Maggie's house and we walked back to campus, making a stop at the Hesburgh Library to see a few more crèche displays from around the world.  Maggie especially liked the one from
 Nigeria which was a village full of figures going about their business with Jesus in a manger off to the side.

Back home again--for some NYT reading--and a nap.  I did a bit of yard work and then started supper--leftover turkey, salsa, corn, and Minute Rice.  Jim was home early and we had a bit of wine before sitting down to our meal.

I started a load of laundry and then checked email again.  I enjoyed a  bowl of ice cream with pecans and chocolate sauce and did yesterday's NYT's puzzle.  A Tuesday puzzle should be within my ability to do alone--and I did with just a few spaces open at the end. 

7:30 has become my travel time--with Rick Steve's Europe on PBS.  Today we went to Denmark outside of Copenhagen and it was lovely and interesting as it always is.

And that is it--so far.  What have I forgotten?  A Christmas gift arrived from Laura via Amazon.  Joseph Kahlil emailed just to say hello.  I communicated by messaging with Linda Bolt to say I wouldn't be coming to NYC after all.  I sent music for Sunday to David and Sue at the church office.

It's a pretty low-keyed life--at least it was today. 

Patience with Electronics Part II

It has been a day of some frustration but, overall, much accomplishment.


My iPhone 6 is set up and working.  I can email, text, take photos and send them.  I downloaded updated versions of Shutterfly and Instagram that actually work with an updated operating system.   Apple Maps can give me oral instructions.  I repurchased my only paid for app--Dark Sky.  The price had gone up to $3.99!  I can email by dictation.  Wow!  That impressed me more than anything else.

No success yet in transferring the photos from my old phone to my new phone.  It's not crucial because they are saved on icloud on my laptop.  I may still figure that out.

I started the process of setting up the phone on my own, but got anxious and went to the Verizon store which fortunately was not at all busy.  Tony transferred my contacts and sold me a protective case.  He also asked how my Christmas shopping was coming and then tried to sell me speakers and even a little drone.  I resisted.  He gave me instructions to further transfer apps and photos but when I got home, there were no words such as "sync" and "restore" as he said would pop up.  It's rarely as easy as the techs say!

I called Verizon for help and Lekea was wonderful with me.  She called me Miss Mary just like my students used to do and I told her she was a dear.  She helped me set up email successfully. However, at some point we lost communication and I gave up.  I would have liked to have praised her to her supervisor.   When I told her how patient she was, she said that was fine because I was learning how to use something new.  She didn't know that I was trying to talk to her on my cell phone and forgot she was on the land line! 

I have found icloud for my Asus laptop and have recovered my photos and journals and recipes--all out there in cyberworld.  That was my issue on my last posting.

I will probably solve transferring the photos as well--maybe. At one point my head was so full of passwords that when I tried to order something online, I couldn't even remember my own zipcode. 

Patience with Electronics

My Mac laptop's screen is hanging on to the keyboard with a few wires.  I move it gingerly if at all.  It still works however.

The cord on my beloved Chromebook will no longer connect to the hard drive to restore the battery.  I tried a new $15 cord and that didn't help.  The Geek Squad at Best Buy said the pin is loose inside the laptop and fixing it would cost more than a new one.  My Chromebook was perfect for travel-lightweight and it could do anything I needed it to do.

So I bought a new one--this time an Asus for just $149--$120 less than the Chromebook.  I did add the extra hardware warranty for two years which cost almost as much as the Asus.  Maybe that was foolish.  I don't like making these decisions.  How can a laptop that costs so little be any good?  We shall see.

So with fear and trembling, I opened the box and started to set it up.  The screen kept telling me reassuring things like "Your apps are on their way" and "Don't turn off your PC" and because it was constantly changing color, I knew something was happening.

So far I have accessed Hotmail, Facebook and my blog.  I have not been able to access Icloud and don't know why. 

Why does my screen suddenly enlarge?  Where did the icons go?  How can I add a photo to this blog? 

I don't like changes.  I like things to last forever.  And they don't.  But right now I am feeling confident enough to try to set up my new iPhone as well.  Maybe tomorrow.

Bananas, Balboa Park, and Breast Cancer

I have no plans for today except for a dinner with one of Jim's colleagues.  I don't know what the day will bring to me.  Yesterday, however, was one of some adventures.

Our Hilton Bayfront Hotel room does not have the view I coveted and remembered from our last stay in San Diego.  We do overlook the Coronado Bridge, but in the foreground is a huge parking lot full of Dole trucks.  I tried to look over that industrial section and focus on the Bay and even the Pacific Ocean beyond Point Loma.

Yesterday, however, I began watching the Dole trucks in their steady rhythm of a cab picking up a trailer bed, waiting for a huge magnet to deposit a full trailer from the Dole Ecuador ship in the dock, driving to a parking space, releasing the trailer, and then starting over.  There were seven of these trucks in the parade that went on all day.  I thought about our 59 cents a pound bananas in our South Bend Martin's and was grateful.

Later in the morning, I took a taxi to Balboa Park where I visited the Spanish Village, a center for working artists where I bought a watercolor 27 years ago when we lived in the area for four months.  I enjoyed the Gauguin to Warhol exhibit at the Museum of Art (on a visit from Buffalo, NY), and then listened to several numbers on the Spreckels pipe organ played by Robert Plimpton, a master organist.

My plan was to walk the two miles back to the hotel.  Little did I know that I was to walk with "3000 of my best friends" as one  Walk for Breast Cancer woman put it!  These walkers were on mile 59 of 60 miles in the last three days.  Most were wearing signs in memory of a friend or relative and were dressed in outlandish costumes--pink tutus, hats, and metal bras!  At least I was carrying my pink leather bag.   As they (we!) walked, there was loud music, cheering by-standers, and police stopping traffic on side streets.

I should have followed them all the way to Petco Park but my feet, even after two miles not 59, needed the shortest route possible.  Unfortunately that led through the East Village area past a "residential hotel," a woman vomiting in a trash can, and several homeless folks with their sleeping gear on the sidewalk.

There were no threats at all, just a little uneasiness--but that is often a part of adventures in my travels.

Back to the hotel for a short collapse, on to a "mixed grill" dinner and then the Notre Dame reception to greet lots of former students and friends.

Jim's Legacy

We are in San Diego where Jim is attending his 41st annual Society of Biblical Literature convention.  I noted that his name is not on the program listing this year.  No papers; no responses; no panels; no honors.  He does have three board meetings and, with five colleagues, is interviewing 11 candidates for a position at Notre Dame.  So he will be busy.

We went out for an early supper in the Gaslight Village area.  When we stood up to leave, the fellow at the next table stood up and introduced himself and his wife.  He thanked Jim for his help in gaining him a promotion several years ago.

As we walked back to the hotel, another fellow came up and introduced himself.  He told us that, as an undergraduate at North Carolina State University, Jim had changed his life.  He was an electrical engineering major and had taken Jim's Old Testament course as an elective.  Apparently Jim happened to meet him out on Hillsborough Street and said to him, "Why don't you take Hebrew too?"  That was it.  He loved it--and is now a dean for a consortium of divinity schools around Maryland.

Approaching the hotel, we met a former colleague of Jim's who hugged us and exchanged pleasantries about the children and grandchildren.  She thanked Jim for his "beautiful" contribution to a journal she was editing-a result of a rather controversial panel discussion at last year's convention.

So within an hour, Jim was thanked by three younger scholars for his help in their careers.  I am aware of Jim's students and former students at Notre Dame, but when we come to these conventions, I am always more aware of how much he has contributed to the larger academic community as well.

A postscript:  I went to an early morning worship service in which the theme was "Not to be Served, But to Serve."  Dr. Mark Strauss preached about Christ's model of serving which included empowering his disciples to serve.  He applied that to all the PhDs in the audience and, even though Jim was not there to hear or worship, I thought it was the story of his career.  He has never been too into himself, but always has been happy to encourage or empower others.

I did enjoy two very public hugs as two of his former students entered the worship space!  And also big, flirty smiles from the eight month old son of one of them!  Those were gifts to me!

Handel's Messiah and Memories

My first memory of The Messiah was attending a performance in Grand Rapids, Michigan.  I must have been about eight or nine and my best friend's much older sister had the trumpet solo in "The Trumpet Shall Sound."  I was so proud of knowing her and, for some strange reason, her comment afterwards saying that her lips felt like hamburger meat is a part of my memory.

When I was 18 and a freshman in college, I sang The Messiah with the Calvin College Oratorio Society.  Conductor Seymour Swets told us young altos that we needed to sound like 40 year old mothers on "And the Glory of the Lord" on our solo entrance.  We knew what he meant--that he wanted a rich, dark sound, but we mostly weren't there yet!  I will never forget his beaming face as we finished the last Amen in our December performance.

Many years later, maybe 20 years later,  Jim and I went to a performance of The Messiah in Duke Chapel.  I focused on a young alto singing at the end of a row.  I got tearful thinking how much living had taken place since I first sang those choruses--good and bad--and how much was ahead of that young girl.

I am singing The Messiah again and it is a joy.  The Notre Dame Repertory Choir, a class that meets twice a week, is giving the student conductors a chance to practice their skills on these choruses.  I have no trouble coming up with a more mature sound now!  I still can't sing those long eighth note passages especially at the pace we are practicing.  The style seems to be a faster tempo and a more staccato style.  That's  a challenge that is fine with me.

Music evokes memories and these are happy ones coming back to me.

Retirement Means New Possibilities

Over the years I have gone to many concerts and other events in the South Bend area and been amazed at how few people I knew in the audience.   Our church community is fairly small, my colleagues at work were limited in number, we no longer have soccer games and school activities for our children, and, as a result, I guess the circle of my acquaintances is not large.

Last night at a wonderful and entertaining Notre Dame Glee Club concert, I was amazed and pleased that my life in retirement has not been more limited but, in some ways, has expanded.

 At the concert,  I was able to introduce Jim to a fellow docent from the Snite Museum and to a young singer from the Notre Dame Repertory Choir.  The fellow docent is an expert in Native-American culture and has added much to our training sessions.  The young singer is working on a Master's degree in Sacred Music and is auditioning for Chanticleer and if that doesn't work, wants to go to Oxford or Cambridge to be a part of one of their chorale programs.

Sometimes the days are a bit long and lonely and I do wish I could be more a part of my children's and grandchildren's lives.  But for now, I need to be here in South Bend.  I am happy to be having enriching experiences and meeting new and interesting people right here.

My Relationship with Facebook

My relationship with Facebook itself  is complicated.  Isn't that a word on the list of possibilities that some use about their relationships on Facebook?

I have kept the Facebook app off my iphone as one way of not checking it too often.  I have now vowed to check it just a few times each day--and never late at night when some postings linger in my sleepless mind.

But what would I have missed in the last week if I didn't have Facebook at all?


         a  photo of my handsome son "looking toasty" as he put it

        the continuing four night saga of the cat in a friend's tree and the heroic rescue by the Notre Dame Climbing Club

        a video of my grandson jumping over mats to the cheers of little ones at the Taekwando class where he was assisting

When I occasionally post my blog on Facebook, it is fun to see who reads and likes and comments.  I like sharing my children's posts and now maybe even my grandchildren's posts.  I like "traveling" with friends who post photos of their trips.

But a few times a day is enough.  There is plenty of free time in retirement, but discipline is needed!

Jump-Start at the Snite

One Snite Museum of Art program for the South Bend Schools is called Jump Start.  Second graders learn about portraits,  third graders do sculpture and fourth graders study Native-American art.

Last week I went to two different schools to introduce the sculpture program to 3rd grade classes.  This morning I led four third grade classes for 30 minutes each through the museum itself to look at the sculptures and talk about them.

It was a blur of activity and a diversity of faces.    Once more I was told that my name tag was upside down.  This may be my trademark.  At least it has  not been a bad omen; maybe it will become my superstition for a good morning.

The children are very eager to respond.  Hands are up constantly and sometimes responses can't wait for being called on.  The children are reminded about "museum manners" and not touching the objects or the pedestals, but this is pretty difficult for kids to remember and reminders are needed.

One close call was the child who squeezed between the model of the Griffon and the window to look at the large Griffon guarding the Snite outside.   I saw the pedestal wobble and got him out of there fast!


We purposely seat the children on the right side of Nydia, the Blind Girl of Pompei, so they don't have to focus on her bare breast.   One group noticed anyway and there were several children craning their necks to see the other side.  One asked why she was dressed that way.

I told the children that another Remington Bronco Buster was in the Oval Office and did they know where that was?  One asked if that was my office.  Another guessed that it was the principal's!   They did enjoy seeing the photo of President Obama with the Bronco Buster in the background.

Some responses are so interesting and observant.  The children see things that I hadn't noticed.  "What is that at Nydia's feet?"  "Those faces look like tuba mouthpieces."

Others are so egocentric as children can often be.  I said that the Snite's maquette  (a new word for me!) of Mozart I was a model of a sculpture at Stanford University in California.  One child eagerly raised her hand and said, "My cousin lives in California."

One of our most important goals as docents is to have the children feel welcome at an art museum.  I made sure to ask each group to come back with their friends and relatives and give them their own tour.  I hope they do just that.

Cooking and Eating

Some people enjoy cooking as a way to relax.  I don't particularly like to cook but I do like to eat.  And I want to really like what I eat--not just eat because I am hungry or it is meal-time.  Plus I want our meals to be healthy.

Tonight was a good example of my style in the kitchen.  I made a list of ideas for this week and bought ingredients yesterday.  Tonight was a recipe with butternut squash, red peppers, feta cheese and Italian sausage.  OK, the Italian sausage is not healthy, but there was only 1/4 pound in it for the two of us.  A little bit of red pepper, onion, rosemary and olive oil and about 45 minutes in the oven and we had a fantastic supper.   We have really cut back on our meat eating and use it to flavor a dish far more often than as the main course for the dinner.   A couple of apple slices and an English muffin gave us a bit of variety.

I also have realized that my time in the kitchen is much more pleasant if I put a CD on--usually choral music and often hymns sung by choirs from Calvin College, Notre Dame, or Oxford or Cambridge. Listening to that music gives me a kind of peace while doing work that itself is not a joy to me.

Now if I could just resist a little ice cream for dessert, I would be better off but a bit of sweetness is so good!

My Debut as a Museum Docent

Maybe the first sign that everything was not going to go perfectly was that the secretary at the school  I visited told me that my name tag was upside down!

After ten months of training as a docent  at the Snite Museum at Notre Dame and the South Bend Museum of Art, I met my first group in their third-grade classroom yesterday. My assignment was to do a presentation on sculpture as an introduction to their museum visit a few days later.  Everything I needed was in a kit that the museum provides.

But the powerpoint didn't work so I asked for an overhead projector which also was not available.  Flexibility?  Improvisation?  Of course!  I held up the overhead slides with a white sheet of paper behind them and we made do!

Today I did my second two presentations at another elementary school in town.  This time we were able to use overheads and after a few tries, I managed to get the slides right side up.  We'll see how much the students remember about geometric and organic sculpture, the additive and subtractive processes in creating sculpture, and the various media used when they visit the Snite.  I, at least, have learned a lot!

It was interesting and educational to do the same presentation three times.  The teacher at the first school was so much warmer and involved than the other two.  She assigned a student to walk me back to the office and asked him to be sure to converse with me.  She was proud of the behavior of the students and subsequently told them she felt better about their taking a field trip.

But today one of the teachers left me on my own while a PE teacher to whom I was not introduced walked in and out.  That presentation was interrupted by a long intercom announcement awarding  special pumpkins to one person in each class.  Not surprisingly, that class was the most restless of the three.

I learned to manage the objects for touching much better by my third attempt.  Otherwise there was too much of "I didn't get to touch the heart, the dog, the marble, etc." or "She/he won't pass it on to anyone else."

We are "contracted" to do ten of these visits each academic year.  I have now done two and next week I'll meet my third obligation by taking four classes in a row through the museum itself to look at these sculptures.  I have loved learning about the art in the last ten months;  and this is the requirement for doing so.  It is a challenge;  it will probably get easier as I develop some experience.

Happy to be Home Again

We returned home last night after a six night road trip.  We flew to Memphis, drove to Little Rock where Jim gave a Hesburgh lecture to a ND alumni club at the University of Arkansas, and then headed to Vicksburg, Natchez, and Baton Rouge.  Our goal was to follow the Great River Road along the Mississippi.  Jim remembered crossing the big river many times as a boy and wanted to follow it south.

It turned out it was harder than we realized to follow the Mississippi River.  Levees blocked our view, marshes stretched for miles, and diversions in the river changed its path from the towns where it flowed during the Civil War era.   We were, however, able to walk along the river in Natchez, watch barges from a casino parking lot in Vicksburg, and see the mighty river spectacularly from the 27th floor of the capitol building in Baton Rouge.  We know now that almost the only lodgings along the river are casino hotels.  We were happy to stay in historic B and Bs instead.

I posted blogs with photos almost every day mostly as a record for ourselves.

The weather was perfect.  Jim's eye issue and RA issues never flared up at all.  He drove and I navigated and we did very well.  We learned a lot about Civil War (the War between the States), plantation life and the life on a tugboat thanks to Jim's conversation with a disabled boatman in that casino parking lot.  We visited the Clinton Library and saw Central High School in Little Rock. We ate catfish and BBQ ribs and lots of grits.

But we are glad to be home.  The colors here in Indiana are spectacular.  I enjoyed my strong morning coffee with my newspapers today.  I chatted with two friends on my grocery shopping trip.  The library had a requested book waiting for me.  Travel is great in its anticipation and its memories.  Home is good too!

On the Road with Jim (IV)

Monday

I needed a footstool to get into bed

The Stockade Bed and Breakfast was a pretty upscale place.  Our spacious room was full of original art work.  The upstairs rooms centered around a large open parlor--although that seems like the wrong word for its southwestern feel.  A very high bed miade me feel uneasy but it was the best night of sleep I've had in a long time.



We chatted with a couple from Winston-Salem during breakfast.  He was a former FBI agent who set up RJ Reynolds security before he retired.  She was a master gardener who curates the herb garden in the Moravian Community of old Salem.  They were interested in Jim's work and the Dead Sea Scrolls and were very jolly breakfast companions.  That can be a bonus of B and Bs; it can also be a liability.

Looking up at 27th floor deck

Another view of Jim viewing the river

After breakfast, we drove through the LSU campus and then on to the Shaw Center for the Arts where we viewed the river from the 4th floor terrace.  We walked along the levee for a bit and then drove to the State Capitol Building which seemed to feature Huey Long's assassination more than anything else.  It took two elevator rides, the second one in a small elevator (capacity 6 persons), to get to the 27th observation deck.  The view of the city, the refineries, and the river was wonderful but I am uneasy in open, high places like that.  We didn't stay long!

We arrived at a very new Holiday Inn Express in Jackson, Mississippi around 4:30.  Supper was pizzas at Manship in the middle of a large Baptist Health Center.  An artichoke and chicken pizza was interesting, but the fire roasted carrots were great--we did need a veggie after all!

Jim watched Monday Night Football and I got annoyed with the noise.  Eventually, he muted it, and then later I watched it too.  There is a need for compromising while travelling!

Tuesday

I'm writing from the Memphis Airport where we just returned our cute red Ford Focus to the Alamo Dealer.  We put on 994 miles in seven days.

We're very ready to be home but also grateful for safe and healthy travel.  And we are planning our next Mississippi River road trip--maybe the area around St. Louis and Hannibal during fall break, October 2015.

On the Road with Jim (III)

Sunday

We enjoyed another great Southern breakfast, Jim read his modern Hebrew with good vision, we packed up  and left Vicksburg, stopping again  for another look at the barges on the river before we headed south on US61.

We didn't stop in Port Gibson but did note the Presbyterian Church with the golden hand pointing up to heaven--one couldn't miss it!

We traveled down the Natchez Trace Parkway from Port Gibson almost to Natchez stopping to see Mt. Locust Inn, the only inn remaining along that early route, and then Emerald Mound, the large 8 acre earthworks used by the Indians for ceremonies as far back as the 1400s.

In Natchez we walked along the river--a rare situation where the city went right up to the edge of the river itself.  We walked to Natchez Under-the-Hill, a place of much sordidness 150 years ago, but now restored; however, it is still home to several bars and one noisy casino and not much else.  We stopped briefly at Stanton Hall, a lovely home dating from the 1850s, and enjoyed the grounds.

Our next stop was St. Francisville where we were able to get right up to the river only after wandering down some country roads.  I could have put my foot or hand in it, but it looked filthy.

The last stop on our road trip for the day was Rosedown Plantation where we toured the grounds, especially enjoying the enormous live oaks covered with spanish moss.


Our home for the night was the Stockade Bed and Breakfast in Baton Rouge, a rather elegant dwelling with six rooms open for guests.  We ate across the street at Sammy's Bar and Grill where I ordered Acadian Catfish and enjoyed it as an eating adventure.  I came close to finishing it!

We tried to drive down to the river to see the sunset but all we could see were levees.  We are learning that a road trip along the river means that sightings are rare.    If we wanted to stay in a place with a river view, we should have stayed in a casino hotel.

On the Road with Jim (Part II)

Saturday

Our server at breakfast told us to be sure to try the cheese grits because they were delicious.  Little did she know how familiar we Yankees were with grits after all those years in North Carolina.  They were delicious and so was the egg casserole and fruit and biscuit and bacon.

 During breakfast we were entertained with a video of Anchuca Inn narrated by a former resident with a wonderful Southern accent.  After breakfast we toured the inn on our own, noticing in particular the Civil War memorabilia and the contemporary paintings by William Tolliver.  We stood on the balcony where Jefferson Davis spoke after his release from federal prison.

  Seeing the river and the boats on it was Jim's intention for this trip.  We should have realized that it is not that easy to view the river from roads with marshes in the way.  Even Vicksburg is not on the big Mississippi but on the Yazoo River, a tributary.  We learned later that it was originally on the Mississippi but the river diverted itself in the 1870s cutting off a large bend.

We drove a few miles to a casino parking lot on Mississippi and had a great place to view the activity.  We even had a guide--a gentleman who asked us where we were from and proceeded to tell us that he had worked on the tugboats for years until he was injured and went on disability.  He was delighted to chat and Jim was delighted to ask questions.  An hour later, we knew a lot more about the currents, the speed of travel upstream and downstream. and life on a boat (three meals a day and a bed and no place to spend money for two and a half weeks).  He missed that life so much that he just parked in the lot and watched.

Our next stop was the Vicksburg National Park where we watched a 20 minute video about the siege of Vicksburg and the eventual surrender of General Pemberton to General Grant on July 4, 1863.  We drove part of the 16 mile road through the park and stopped a few times at monuments and then for a longer time at the ironclad ship Cairo which was brought up from the Yazoo River where it had lain for over 100 years.

Supper was at the Cafe again where we enjoyed a chicken breast with a brandy-apple sauce, a potato casserole, and veggies.

Jim could not bear to watch the ND-FSU game so he went to the library to read.  He had to return for the second half when the library closed for the evening.  It was a great, hard-fought game but ND lost when its last touchdown was called back due to a penalty.

On the Road with Jim

Again,  these road trips postings are mostly for me--as a way of remembering our journey.

Up to Tuesday afternoon, we were not absolutely certain we could make this trip due to the flare up of Jim's eye infection.  But the doctor said things looked better and Jim knew he was seeing better.  He packed all his pills and eye drops and we hoped for the best.

Our flight was delayed for almost an hour in South Bend on Wednesday afternoon, putting us at risk for getting out of Detroit and into Memphis before dark--which was important for both of our driving skills.  The autumn colors from a plane's vantage point were beautiful both in South Bend and Detroit.  With a quick walk through the airport and fairly close gates, we made it in time. When we arrived,  Memphis was decidedly green but was lovely and warm.  The Alamo clerk tried to sell us a yellow convertible or a Cadillac but we were happy with our bright red Ford Focus.

The Doubtree Hotel downtown was free thanks to many groceries paid for with a Visa Hilton card.  We decided to forego TGIF in the hotel for something more local and we definitely found it--Rendezvous--on a side alley where Jim had ribs and I had a pork shoulder sandwich--sides of beans and slaw--and served within minutes.   Mine was pretty spicy and those endorphins kicked in along with my draft beer and I was feeling happy!

We walked along Beale Street which reminded us of Bourbon Street in New Orleans--noisy and crowded with open bars on the street.

Thursday

We got off to a slow start and drove about 130 miles down I 40 to LIttle Rock.   We found the Clinton Presidential Library easily and enjoyed the 12 minute video hosted by President Clinton after which we perused the 2nd floor displays.  Many memories came back to us of those years--not only of the events in the White House but also events in the nation and world during those years.  We were interested in how the Lewinsky episode would be handled and, of course, much blame was put on partisan politics and the witch-hunting Ken Starr.  There were apologies for conduct however.

We took a break for lunch in the library's dining room where it took forever for our simple meal to come.  Eventually we were told it would be free because of the delay!

We went back to the third floor of the museum with its replica of the Oval Office and the memorabilia of Bill's boyhood and then walked around the grounds a bit.

We relaxed in the Wingate Hotel on the Riverfront until Jim Metzger, the Notre Dame Alumni Club host,  picked us up at 6 pm.  He and his wife Debra Baldwin, a dean at the University of Arkansas in Little Rock,  gave us a bit of a tour of the town--past Central High School and the State Capitol and on to the university where JIm gave his speech on the Dead Sea Scrolls to a full house.  It went well and he handled all the questions beautifully as always--including one about bowel movements on the Sabbath and Jewish expectations for a Messiah.

http://ualr.edu/www/2014/10/03/dead-sea-scrolls-subject-of-talk-presented-by-notre-dame-professor/

It was a late meal at the Old Capitol Hotel with Debra and Jim and Clea Hupp, a professor at U of A and a candidate for state legislator,  and back to the hotel by 10:30--11:30 Indiana time!

Friday

We arrived in Vicksburg around 2:45 after several hours of pretty boring travel. The roads were straight, the land was flat, and really the only thing of interest was seeing cotton in the fields and bound up in large bales.

Both of us had prepared to visit Vicksburg by reading "Under Siege,"  a young adult account of three children who were present during those 47 days in 1863.  The book was based on original sources including articles written years later by the children for Harper's Magazine.


Our destination, Anchuca Mansion and Inn, was built in 1830 and used as a hospital during the siege of Vicksburg.    Our room was in a row of rooms in the carriage house.  We walked around the town a bit looking first for Christ Church, where Rev. Lord preached daily during the siege.   One of the children in the book was Willie Lord, his son.

We were impressed by a large, attractive red building which seemed to have bars on the windows.  As we walked past the door the County Building next to it,  a sheriff getting out of his car greeted us--as almost all the passer-bys did.  I asked him what that building was and he replied, "You don't want to go there.  It's the jail."  He went on to tell us about the hanging tower at the top of 13 steps with a trap-door that let the unfortunate person drop several floors to the cart to carry him off.  He said that if the hanging didn't get him, the fall would.  I told him I had certainly asked the right person!  What a great story I got out of it.  Although maybe he was telling his fellow deputies that you wouldn't believe the story those Yankee tourists fell for!

We had supper at the inn's cafe and enjoyed shrimp and champagne caper sauce Tuscan grits with roasted vegetables.  It was delicious and we made a reservation for tomorrow night as well.

Forever Learning....about Football?

"A Ladies Guide to Football" was my third attempt at a class at Forever Learning, an educational venture for senior citizens in our community.  Last fall while I was still working, I signed up for a weekly ballet class.  The instructor was wonderful and called us her divas.  I found it very difficult to follow instructions and really did not enjoy the slow pace of the exercise.  I skipped the last few classes.

Last spring I tried Zumba thinking it would be faster paced.  So it was and again the instructor was great but I got bored and did not last to the end of the term.  I have concluded I am too rebelliious for group exercise and following instructions.

This fall I signed up for "A Ladies Guide to Football" and I made it to the end of the six week session.  Does this say that I am a couch potato at heart?  To be fair to myself, I did do at least six weeks of the other classes--but I would have gone to more of this one if it had more sessions.


Do you know what a nickel back is?  What the spread offense is?  Why the holder is sometimes the second string quarterback?  Maybe you do, but I didn't.  I am amazed at the complexity of football strategy and rules.  I learned a lot and have a lot left to learn!

There is much I don't respect about college and professional football.  When I see a large photo and article of a high school recruit on the front page--above the fold as our daughter would say--of the South Bend Tribune sports section, I can understand that these young men begin to feel entitled to break rules in academics and in life--even at Notre Dame where over 95% of the college players graduate.

But if football is going to be on TV at our house, and it is fairly often, I like being able to understand a bit more of what is going on.

Thanks to a great instructor, Nan Tulchinski, who even provided us with a tailgate party for our last session!

My Bucket List

Last night a young friend said that she and her parents were traveling to Italy during the Notre Dame fall break and would see Rome, Florence, and Cinque Terre.  I've been to Rome and Florence, but Cinque Terre--I've seen photos many times and I'd love to spend time there.  But it really is no longer on my "bucket list."   Why not?  It's a long overseas trip and it just may not be worth the effort to me.

I do, however, have a local "bucket list" and yesterday checked one more place off it.  Maggie, Chantal and I drove to Galien River County Park as part of our apple picking outing.   We walked along a boardwalk through a marsh.  We heard a very noisy frog calling out to us.  We climbed a breath-taking flight of stairs and walked down an elevated platform high over the trees to a lookout over the river.  It was so high that I experienced some vertigo and "faced my fear" as Chantal said by walking between the two of them.  The view was beautiful.  One had to appreciate the community efforts put into preserving the marsh and giving opportunities to see it from a great vantage point.


We capped it off with lunch at Luisa's Swedish Cafe (established in 1912) in Harbert and left with bread and pastries from the bakery there.

We travelled about 60 miles and spent four hours on the road and had a great experience close to home.

That said, I do have a deposit on a trip with a St. John's Abbey group in September 2015 traveling to Istanbul, Ephesus, Patmos, and Athens.  I'd go alone and pay a single supplement.  My passport is being renewed. I can cancel up to 90 days before the trip.  We shall see.

"Compassion directed towards oneself is true humility."

I found this quote from Simone Weil in a circuitous way.  Last Friday I attended a very well-thought out lecture by the novelist Ron Hansen at Notre Dame.  The lecture was entitled "Seeing into the Middle of Things: On Being a Catholic Writer. " Hansen quoted Weil to say that attention taken to its highest degree is prayer.  I found that a strange saying and wanted to try to understand it.

So, of course, I googled it and found a similar quote: "Absolute unmixed attention is prayer."  I don't have a feel for what that means either but another quote popped out at me and is worth my thinking about.

"Compassion directed towards oneself is true humility."  I wish I knew where in Weil's writings this comes from.    I have started Weil's "Waiting for God" and put it down.  Maybe if I try it again, I will find it.

In any case, I need compassion directed towards myself.  Sunday night was a night of insomnia.  Why?  Sometimes I know why; sometimes I really didn't.  I was sad about Jim's mother's condition when we saw her on Saturday.  I was concerned about the doctors' visits for Jim on Monday.  But mostly, I was upset with myself for my inability to just fall asleep.  There is no way to say it doesn't matter because a sleepless night causes a difficult day.  But trying to fall asleep does no good at all!

I know I need to accept this problem and be understanding and compassionate towards myself.  I can't always have the energy to travel and plan and scheme and go here and there.  I am humbled by my need for a quiet day after a needy night.

In a Peaceful Place

I can hear the wind and the waves.  There are still dark skies but the sun has come out and is shining on the whitecaps.  It is a pretty wild scene, not a peaceful scene but I am in a peaceful place anyway.

It has been an especially rough week after a summer of concern.  Jim has a persistent viral infection in his "good eye" and he has had unexplained severe pain and swelling in his hands and foot.  We may, or may not, get a diagnosis on Monday when he sees both the eye doctor and the rheumatologist again.

But today he has been able to see well  enough and feel well enough to drive to a golf course and play nine holes. He just texted me briefly:  "On six.  Fun."  I don't know when I have been so happy to know that he was able to golf!  And that he didn't need me to go along to spot the balls.  Or if he did need me, it was okay that I stayed back at the cottage anyway!

I feel the peace of being able to live in the present moment.  The eyes may be worse tomorrow, the hand may swell up and be painful again soon, or who knows what could happen to our 68-year old bodies next?  But today is a good day and one for thanksgiving!

Singing Mendelssohn

Last week Carmen worked with the student conductors only, preparing them to conduct various numbers from The Elijah.  The Notre Dame Repertory Choir had a week off.  One student I saw said, "You'll get a free afternoon."  I'm sure that was a bonus in her busy life, but I missed our two sessions.

Tuesday was an unexpected challenge.  I thought Mendelssohn would be easy to sing after the Victoria motets we had been doing.  It was a different kind of challenge.  One number had just two of us on the Alto II part; fortunately the other person, a young man, has a very strong voice!

On Thursday, after a rather poor night of sleep, I was so tempted to stay home and nap.  I had already made two trips to Notre Dame chauffeuring Jim and observing a group at the Snite Museum.  Parking is always a challenge and it is quite a walk from the B1 lot to the music building. But I convinced myself to go and I was so glad I did.

The words "Cast your burden upon the Lord" and "He that endureth to the end shall be saved" just found their way into my soul.  We sang them over and over again while Carmen encouraged the student conductors to watch their stances, their cut-offs,  and their eye contact but also to be aware of the beauty of the music and relate that to us.

It is 75 minutes of absolute concentration for me.  Sight-reading the notes, following the conductor and the markings in the music, matching my vowels with others, and ending my consonants with them--there is much to think about.  The sounds we make are beautiful.  It is a joy to blend my voice with these very good, young musicians.

I am fascinated by the process of Carmen's teaching these students conducting technique but also musicianship.  She is demanding but also affirming.  I feel for them as they try to respond to her suggestions on the spot with all of us watching and learning from their interactions with her.

I continue to feel a bit sheepish to be the only "adult" let alone "senior citizen" but I try to do my part and I do this for me!  Maybe one of these days, I'll act the role of the mother (or grandmother!) and make chocolate chip cookies for them.

When I got home again, and could rest a bit, it was impossible.  The music in my head would not stop!

You never know...

On Wednesday I blogged about being a bit bored and restless.   I couldn't get motivated to do much of anything.

I had nothing scheduled for Thursday either except a dinner with Jim at night to use a gift certificate with a deadline of Saturday.  We did not have that dinner.  I cancelled our reservation from the ER where Jim was being treated for very severe pain, so severe that he was in danger of fainting in his office.

So that was my Thursday and I was busy every minute until evening.   I had driven Jim to work in the morning because of his foot pain, then later picked him after one class and driven him to another, got my passport application processed at the ND Post Office, went home for lunch--and then turned around immediately when he texted me to come to get him at his office on the 8th floor.  He was having so much pain that he felt faint and he didn't dare come down alone. The medics,  called by Jim's colleague Claire at Notre Dame, did not want me to drive him to the ER or the doctors.  He was taken by ambulance to St. Joe Medical Center.

A lovely walk at St. Joe Medical Center

The medics at ND, the ambulance crew and the staff at St. Joe were all wonderful.  Dr. Shellenberger looked at Jim and said, " You look miserable, Mr. Vanderkam," and I was so grateful to him for not acting like this was just one more case in a very busy ER.  And it was busy.  There were five ambulances and a waiting room full of people when I arrived a few minutes after Jim did.

A shot for pain gave Jim much relief and he was very grateful--and pretty mellow.  Five hours later, we left with prescriptions and instructions to contact our own Dr. Blechl and to get more testing.  Dr. Shellenberger was nice enough to want to admit Jim so he could follow through and find out what might be the cause of the pain but we were eager to go home.  Jim was pleased to watch Thursday night football at home and we both wanted to sleep in our own bed.

Jim has been very patient through this whole process of dealing with his eye problems and these severe joint problems which may actually all be related.  That is not at all clear at this point.

I was glad I got my little road trip in last week and that I was home to help him this week.  Today he is home with me all day and it is lovely to have his company in spite of the reason.  We even treated ourselves to Krispy Kreme donuts on the way home from the eye doctor appointment today.

"Sounds as if you are keeping busy...."

This is a phrase I hear from others after they ask about my retirement.  I do have activities but some days are busier than others.  It is hard to strike a balance.

This has been a week without any meeting at the Snite Art Museum, no choir meetings, and no Bible study.  Plus no special trips planned and my walking buddy Maggie is on a trip.  I spent hours reading a less than worthwhile mystery on Monday; yesterday was some shopping, a hair cut, browsing at the Notre Dame library and checking out books, and doing some cleaning and laundry.   Today there will be my Ladies' Guide to Football class and a concert this evening.  Tomorrow, as far as I know, nothing scheduled.  Friday --a lecture by Ron Hansen at ND and getting ready for the graduate students group meeting at our house.

It is not a busy life.  I look to my laptop for keeping in touch with others and that gets good results so I don't feel totally isolated.  I pursue whatever interests me when I look at Laura's blog or Facebook postings from NPR.   This morning Linda Bolt, who may be in a similar place in life,  shared  this very relevant one from the Washington Post:

What kind of value do we place on a day with nothing planned? On a day not filled with lists of accomplishments, but with peace and quiet: a long walk to a coffee shop to enjoy a book, a phone conversation with a family member with whom we’ve lost touch. Will we tell those stories, or leave them out?  There is value in both the busy days and the slow, reflective ones. There is value in finding time for oneself.
When the next person asks me what I do all day, maybe I will simply say, “Enough.”


http://www.washingtonpost.com/news/parenting/wp/2014/09/23/with-kids-off-at-school-how-i-answer-so-what-do-you-do-all-day/?tid=sm_fb

Our former pastor used to talk about "business" as a form of idolatry.  Our daughter has talked about being busy as a badge of pride--and an excuse for things that are not a priority--and maybe should be. Many folks when asked how they are will reply, "Busy."  I don't!

I wish I could be with little Sam in Pennsylvania on his 5th birthday; I wish I could help out more with Jim's mom without having to drive 60 miles each way; I wish I could help Jeff and Susan this week in New Jersey while she is gone and he is on crutches for a torn ankle ligament.  At least I am trying to be a good wife to Jim by helping out with his eye drop regime.  And I am blogging about how I feel and that always makes me feel better!

A Solo Road Trip

Wednesday, September 17
A blog mostly for me--to record memories!

Tuesday was a busy day even before I left.   I slept well Monday night and that is always a gift.  After Bible study at church (at which my journey was prayed for), lunch with my young friend Lucy at Notre Dame, and a Repertory Choir rehearsal, I hit the road at a little after two pm.

Traveling was easy because US 31 now by-passes Lakeville, LaPaz, and most important of all, the 13 traffic lights in Kokomo. Construction and heavy traffic around Indianapolis slowed me down and made me a bit apprehensive.  I turned the radio off, stayed in my lane, and eventually hit less stressful traffic south of Indy.

I arrived in Nashville, Indiana a bit after six.  With a little difficulty, I found Cornerstone Inn.  I had expected in such a tiny town that I would see it immediately.  My room on the third floor was lovely and old-fashioned.

I walked around town looking for a place to eat.  Most places were closed but the Muddy Boots Cafe fixed me a great burger to go which I ate while watching "The Roosevelts-Part 3" on public television.

One little incident during the night kept me awake for a while.  At 3 am, I tried to open a window and it opened from the top not the bottom.  I reached for it and fell from the flimsy chair--on the floor with a skinned leg.  Could have been worse!

Breakfast the next morning was fabulous--granola and yogurt, eggs, rolls, fruit, blueberry french toast--all attractively arranged.  There were several older couples eating together.  I didn't feel envious because I was having a great time and Jim was probably happier at home.

  A heavy fog made a very interesting ride to Columbus for a bus tour of the modern architecture in that relatively small city.  Several years ago, the American Institute of Architects ranked Columbus best for innovation after five big cities in the US--Boston, Washington, Chicago, New York and San Francisco.  It was fun to see works by Saarinen, father and son, and Pei--and others.  All of this was the vision of one man who gave the money to hire the best for design.  We drove past probably twenty schools, offices, manufacturing plants and toured the interiors of two churches done by the father and son Saarinen, First Christian Church and Northside Christian Church--very different and very well thought out.  I definitely was one of the younger folks on the tour; several walked with canes and one could not leave the bus.

Walking through Columbus afterwards, I glimpsed a signboard in front of a restaurant called Tre Bicchieri saying "avocado and peach salad" and thought that sounded pretty good and healthy.  I ordered one to go and ate it in my room later and it was fabulous.  And they even surprised me by throwing in bread and an olive oil dip.

Also on my "bucket list" and road trip plan was the Steele Historic Site where TC Steele lived and painted and founded the "Hoosier School" which we studied in our art museum docent training.  The grounds were lovely but I just didn't feel up to another guided tour.  Another little incident happened which could have been worse.  I got stuck turning around in a small parking area and had trouble getting out of a ditch.  But I persisted and did it!

I headed back to the inn for a nap and then to Brown County Park.  I parked by the Abe Martin Lodge and walked down two different trails into the forest but decided it was just too lonely.  What if I fell?  What if I sprained an ankle?  What if I met a stranger who was not friendly?  I got back in the car and stopped at two magnificent vistas along the road.  At the first stop, it was very quiet so I just sat at a picnic table and prayed after an audible "Wow!"

Now it's time for a glass of wine and time to call Jim.  It is so good to be able to be in contact with him with email, texting, and calls. It keeps me from being lonely on these trips.

---------------------

Thursday, September 18  (written from home)

Last night's supper was another take out--from the Artists's Colony restaurant.  It was a delicious vegetarian lasagna for which I was charged a gratuity.  I don't think I've ever had that with takeout before and I didn't like it.  But the lasagna was delicious.

Sleep came with difficulty because my hip hurt badly--the usual "got it so bad in my hip" thing--maybe arthritis, maybe bursitis--but eventually the ibuprofen kicked in and I slept well.

The joy of travelling alone is that one can make last minute decisions and this morning I did just that.  My plan was to go back to Brown County State Park and hike a bit.  But I did not feel like driving there so I headed for home, going north on lovely SR 135 through Bean Blossom (home of a bikers' convention last week and a blue-grass festival in August) and a few other small towns until I got to IN 37 towards Indy.  My trip was going so well that I decided I might try going into Indy itself.  I pulled off the road, checked my Apple map app, and found out I was only eight miles and 13 minutes from White River Park right in the downtown area.  I went for it and it was an amazingly easy ride through a heavily industrial area (why were the manholes in the road all steaming so much)?

 I parked in an underground garage and walked up two stories past a lovely water installation to the Eiteljorg Museum of American Indians and Western Art.   I thought that there was an exhibit of Victor Higgin's studio there, but the young woman at the desk did not know about it.  It didn't help that I said Victor Huggins--but that should have been close enough!  However, there it was--in the middle of the room of Taos art by Georgia O'Keefe, Walter Ufer, and others.  I was delighted.

Upstairs there was another fascinating exhibit of George Morrison, a Native American artist born in a Chippewa village near Lake Superior, and influenced greatly by that but also by his years in another village--Greenwich Village.  His career, which spanned the years from the 1940s to 2000, incorporated many styles from Realism to Abstract Expressionism.

I took a short walk along the canal and gardens behind the museum before I retrieved my car, having carefully noted where it was in that huge garage, and then bravely headed through downtown Indy looking for signs for Interstate 70.

It was an easy trip home with one stop for a Starbucks coffee and another for a restroom.  Beautiful music accompanied my travels and I was home by a little after 4 pm.

  Nashville itself was not worth the trip.  It seemed to me to be a typical tourist town with fudge shops, decorative lawn art, and "hand-made" jewelry.  The Columbus tour, however,  was everything I hoped for; Brown County Park was lovely and would be amazing during the fall color season; the Eiteljorg Museum was a serendipitous and wonderful surprise.

 50 hours of travel and about 500 miles gave me many enriching experiences.  Recording them here will help me remember!

Never say, "Never!"

I love to sing with others and I love the challenge of learning new music.  Since moving to South Bend, I have sung in two auditioned choirs but both met at night when I'd rather be home and both had pretty intense performance times.  I'm not sure I could stand or even hold music up for hours any more in order to perform.  So I haven't sung in a choir other than church choir for several years.

 With much regret, I thought that part of my life was over.  But it's not!  Last week, Jim forwarded me the usual Monday  Notre Dame announcements and I happened to see that auditions were taking place for the Notre Dame Repertory Choir.  I had heard the choir sing last spring and they sounded good in their rather short program.   And they met at lunch time twice a week.

So I boldly auditioned before four graduate students in the music program.  That in itself was an adventure. I matched sets of tones, clapped out rhythms,  sight read exercises, and then sang the alto line of "Christ Lag in Todebanden" which actually was not sightreading for me!

I waited a week before the email arrived.   Not only was I accepted--they offered me a paid position of $15 an hour.  I was delighted to be accepted but turned down the money.  I'm sure a student needed it far more than I do --after all, I do get social security and a pension!

I have now attended two rehearsals.    It was great fun.  The young voices are good--much better than mine.  We spend no time warming up or learning music.  We just sing and I was challenged to keep up as best I could.

The purpose of the Repertory Choir is to give student conductors a chance to practice their skills.  Several graduate students took turns conducting and receiving suggestions from Professor Carmen-Helena Terrez.   They were encouraged to try out what she said on the spot--and they were put on the spot.  It was really interesting to see the process of their graciously accepting criticism and improving their skills.

I am definitely the only "grown-up" in the class--let alone "senior citizen?"  But I had a great time and look forward to the next meeting.

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After writing this blog and waiting to post it, I had some second thoughts about being two and three times the age of everyone else in the choir.  Then I read Felicia Ackerman's letter to the editor in the New York Times and thought that maybe I was guilty of "ageism" myself!  Dear reader, what do you think?  What would you do?

Call It Ageism

September 4, 2014

To the Editor:

According to “When Did We Get So Old?” (Sunday Review, Aug. 31), “Johnathan Rodgers, who is 68, knew that it was time to step down as president and chief executive of the cable channel TV One” when he saw that he was the oldest person at the conference table.

Why is this any more of a reason for stepping down than being the darkest-skinned person at the conference table? And why accept the view of Dr. Roger Gould, a psychiatrist, that old people are “the ones the world can do without”?

As a member of the baby boom generation, which fought racism and sexism, I see no reason to knuckle under to ageism.

FELICIA NIMUE ACKERMAN
Providence, R.I., Sept. 1, 2014

The writer is a professor of philosophy at Brown University.

http://mobile.nytimes.com/2014/09/05/opinion/call-it-ageism.html