Posts Tagged ‘family’
Around Cornish
Pausing outside Barry and Carlos’ place for a moment, waiting to load into the huge rented SUV for a jaunt to Cornish, I balanced some rocks. How long until they’ll topple becomes a subject of interest each time we pass.
Before we reach Cornish, the closest hub of commerce for the summer camps in this area, the vehicle that we’ve been referring to as “the wildebeest” (as in BEAST) made a stop at the waste transfer station. Carlos carried the bag of recycling in one direction, and Barry took the bag of trash somewhere else.
Carlos returned directly, and Barry didn’t. After a brief delay, he reappeared with an apology. He ran into someone they knew, and they had a chat. This was a hint of what we soon learned is common wherever Barry and Carlos go in the vicinity of both their place in Boston and here in Maine.
Mere seconds after Barry parked the beast in Cornish, we were standing in the road, being introduced to someone they knew. Most of the antique or craft shops we browsed included a pause for Barry and Carlos to catch up on news or introduce us to someone with whom they have a connection.
It felt a little like we were enjoying the honor of walking around with the local mayor(s).
After walking the shops, the wildebeest made a stop at the grocery store so we could augment our food stores in preparation for hosting neighbors for grilled burgers tonight. The highlight of that stop was Mike’s noble deed of quietly buying a batch of bananas to gift a mom and her son after he overheard the boy’s request get turned down because she couldn’t afford them. Mike said he got a hug from her as she mentioned that tariffs are killing them. Ouch.
Back at camp, we ate a light lunch, saving room for our early dinner reservation at Max’s Restaurant & Pub at the romantic Snowvillage Inn located in Eaton Center, NH. Cyndie and Barry decided on an earlier-than-usual timing to allow for daylight viewing of the majestic Mount Washington and the White Mountains out the window of the dining areas.
Before settling down for a short pre-dinner nap, Barry guided us on a walking tour of the neighboring camps, describing all the owners and relationships to a degree worthy of a scholarly genealogist. I’m afraid I would miserably fail if there were a test on all that we might have learned.
Since dinner was early, there was plenty of time for a frivolous card game on the porch after we got back. Snack almonds were designated as a method to tally our losses. When you lost a hand, you ate a nut. Luckily, the bag was close by for Carlos to replace his “chips” each time he accidentally ate one in the middle of a hand.
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Hiking Foothills
Friday started with a breakfast of some eggs, bacon, a variety of fruits, and three different flavor versions of Cyndie’s fresh-baked scones. That became fuel we used to go for a short hike up Foss Mountain in Eaton, New Hampshire. The area is among the foothills of the White Mountains.
The most significant portion of the expedition is the need for four-wheel drive, high clearance navigation up the steep, rarely-graded one-lane gravel incline to reach a small parking area for the final half-mile walk to the top. There was one other vehicle parked when we arrived, and we found a family of three at the top as we reached the peak. I snapped today’s primary photo, capturing the man patiently waiting for his balloon to look just right for a picture he was after.
The scenery around Foss Mountain is prime territory for viewing the brilliant colors of autumn leaves. The ground along the climb and around the rocky surfaces at the top is covered with blueberry bushes. The vast fields on the way up are privately owned and off limits for picking, but visitors are free to collect berries at the top. We showed up between the seasons of fall colors and ripe berries.
You take what you get, and we were no less rewarded, being there on a warm, blue-sky September day.
Having just returned from bicycling in the Black Hills of South Dakota, I looked at the steep, rough gravel road with appreciation that I wasn’t pedaling my way up and back down the incline.
Barry drove us along two different winding scenic routes to and from the hike, extending our New Hampshire adventure with time to take in a multitude of classic New England views, including quaint communities, old burial grounds, beautiful landscapes, and wonderful old homes, farms, small businesses, and churches.
Stumbling upon Bobby Sue’s Homemade Ice Cream and Waffle Cones shop was a bonus. Even though we hadn’t had lunch yet, we treated ourselves to dessert first. It was as divine as our minds hoped it was going to be.
It served as a delicious accent to emphasize that we were on a vacation from our usual routines.
Destination: Camp
We have fled the big city for the scenic forests and laid-back living of rural Maine, where Barry and Carlos have created a glorious woodsy retreat, a second-home vacation-getaway-lake-place that is referred to in these parts as “camp.”
To get all six of us here in one vehicle, we rented a huge SUV and packed our luggage to the brim. Then we stopped for groceries on the way and tucked those bags in any space around our seats. It was a quick two-plus-hour drive to camp near Cornish, ME, not far from the border with New Hampshire.
It didn’t take long for the four people with a passion for swimming to don their suits and hustle down to the water for a dip. The featured photo for today is how I found them when I made my way down from the cottage. I told them that I took a picture of them “swimming.”
Eventually, three of them made their way fully into the water, and then Barb and Barry got in their laps of various strokes.
We met some neighbors and enjoyed a wonderful visit while their hyper dogs flailed their energy in every direction. The reason we checked in with them was because a third neighbor had offered up an extra bedroom in their place, but the key they gave Barry wasn’t the right one.
The key was meant to be a “just-in-case” backup because they were going to leave the door unlocked, but the cleaner had come and locked things up when she left. Luckily, she lived close and was able to come and open up for us to use.
As soon as the sun got low in the sky, the temperature began to drop, giving us a wonderfully cool September night. Barry grilled pork tenderloin, and we dined and told stories on the porch.
Today, hiking in the region is the plan. Maybe I’ll find something to photograph while we are out and about.
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More Boston
After a morning walk to Flour Bakery & Cafe for goodies, we returned to Barry and Carlos’ place for breakfast outside on their patio amid all the flowering greenery. Wednesday’s weather was perfect for strolling some 19,000 steps totaling around seven miles on the day.
We made our way through Chinatown toward the North End and a bit of the waterfront, with Barry identifying buildings and pointing out details along the way. I love having a tour guide so I don’t need to figure out where I am going. We walked near the building where Cyndie’s office was when she worked for the Boston Public School District for a year.
Outside the Aquarium, we enjoyed a close visit (through glass) with several seals.
Lunch was at the Bell In Hand tavern, America’s oldest continuously operating tavern since 1795. Think: clam chowder and fish & chips. Mmm. My favorite.
We made a quick pass through Faneuil Hall Marketplace, walked solemnly through a Holocaust memorial, and visited two notable burial grounds where Revolutionary War-era patriots are interred, including Paul Revere and three signers of the Declaration of Independence.
The trees and other greenery of the Rose Kennedy Greenway had a couple of people pulling out phones to use an app to identify some of what we were seeing. It has me wanting to try adding a few unique new tree species to our property in Beldenville.
Our route back brought us to The Embrace sculpture on Boston Common, depicting four intertwined arms representing the hug shared when Martin Luther King Jr. was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964. The afternoon was topped off with a visit to the home of a friend, Kathy Graven, whose family was one of the founders of the Wildwood Lodge Club in Hayward, WI.
After a brief rest, we headed to The Elephant Walk South End restaurant for a dinner of Cambodian-French fusion offerings. Oh, my. The favors were rich, robust, and rewarding. My choice was from the day’s specials: Swordfish. I’m not sure that I was worthy of such exquisite cuisine.
Okay, maybe a few more images from the day…
Viewing Boston
We needed to wake up at 3 a.m. to drive to the airport, which made for a long day, but we arrived in Boston before lunchtime, giving us plenty of daylight to go for a walk to experience Barry and Carlos’ neighborhood. I am still longing to be able to pick one image from our day, but am now choosing to feature one at the top and offer thumbnails of a few others for some additional scenes I captured.
I looked up at the sky with the angular shape of the Hancock Tower and the sunlight features showing in the lens, and I have settled on that as my pick for the day.
We dined at Tatte Bakery & Cafe in the South End, where I enjoyed a fabulous roasted salmon sandwich on a housemade challah roll. I think the “bun” is what sent this delight over the top for me, but the salmon was substantial and prepared to perfection.
Early check-in was available at the Stay Pineapple for the room we reserved for Barb and Mike, so we walked with their luggage to get a look at their room. I was captivated by the whimsical dog sculpture and the tile mosaic in the foyer.
From there, we headed toward the three levels of a 360° “View Boston” experience at the Prudential Center after a quick exploration of the Boston Public Library. Our expert tour guide, Barry, walked us around a big loop to get back to their condo, where we crashed for a much-needed nap. I have no directional sense and was completely at the mercy of others to figure out which way to go.
We hung out on their 5th-floor patio for drinks and snacks before ordering Mexican take-out for dinner. We just got to Boston, and it feels like we’ve seen and done enough for several days already.
Today promises to offer even more of a similar type of Boston adventures. I fully expect I will be unable to choose just one image to represent all that we will see and do.
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Still Resonating
Our weather yesterday was about as nice as could possibly be. Whenever the humidity drops in the summer, we are rewarded with fantastic days for getting things done. I jumped on the riding mower and cut grass. That exercise leaves plenty of room for my mind to wander.
Without attempting to direct my thoughts to any particular topic, the people and events of the wedding weekend in Chicago kept spinning around in my head. I am well familiar with the way good vibes linger after a hearty dose of happy people cultivating new connections and sharing time and stories.
There is only a slim chance I will cross paths with most of them again, but having been introduced to Haley’s relatives helps me to feel more familiar with who she is. I already know Alec’s side well, now coming up toward Cyndie’s and my 44th wedding anniversary.
One positive I can take from the annoying flight delay that had us stuck in the airport in Chicago for extra hours is that Cyndie’s brother, Ben, and his boys were on the same flight. It triggered more conversation than usual with the nephews. It’s not often that I, in my mid-60s, engage in more than a brief exchange with someone in their teens and twenties.
When I was stuck with all the people in Chicago for the previous three days, I longed to be home in the solitude of our fields and forest. Now that I’m here, my mind travels back to the good times we had with them. I think that is the power of love vibrating still.
Rolling along on the mower, I found myself returning again and again to the scenes and the sounds my brain was still processing. Our arrival at the wedding venue and claiming our seats as the string quartet performed off to the side. Taking in the view of Lake Michigan sprawled out to the horizon beyond the platform where the vows would be exchanged.
Feeling tears of emotion on my cheek as I watched the groom’s reaction to his bride’s first appearance on her father’s arm. The loving touch as the bride wiped his tears with her hand when she arrived to stand with him. Flower petals blowing back in our faces as people showered the couple after they joyously stepped off the platform as newlyweds, pausing for a bent-over kiss for emphasis.
Mingling for a moment in the absolutely perfect weather with drinks and appetizers before being ushered toward the dinner tent. The incredible dance band kicked off their first set with an energy that pulled guests in, seamlessly moving them directly onto the dance floor.
Food would have to wait. One song after another without stopping until it seemed like dinner might as well be entirely skipped. Finally, the band allowed the energy to subside, and folks moved toward their assigned tables.
Precious speeches from the father of the bride, the maid of honor, and the best man. First-class service bringing top-quality salad and entrees with an orchestration so precise it felt like a Hollywood production.
All the while, the band was expertly serenading diners as they enjoyed their meals, and the bride and groom worked their way around each table to personally greet everyone who had come. After the traditional series of sentimental first dances, the band revved things back into high gear, and the high-octane dancing picked up where it left off before the food was served.
It was a celebration for the ages. A wedding that will linger long in the minds of all who were in attendance. A rather exceptional distraction for me while I steered my way around objects to mow our grass on a similarly spectacular sunny August day.
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I Survived
After a whirlwind of a special wedding weekend in Chicago, we made it home a little before 10:00 last night and were able to get a full night’s sleep in our own bed. Man, did I need that. Waking up Sunday morning after only four hours of sleep was woefully inadequate.
We endured an almost three-hour flight delay before being able to board our plane and depart from O’Hare airport. In the end, we and the Minnesota contingent of Cyndie’s family all made it home around the same time, despite half of them driving back in two different cars and half flying. Hardly seems fair.
Over the three days we were there, we attended three gala events, two of which I needed to tough out in formal attire.
Somehow, I managed to survive unscathed. It’s a good thing Cyndie was willing to dress me up for the occasion. I didn’t follow through with a threat to wear my manure composting boots with the suit to the wedding Saturday night.
All my complaining was overblown. We had a great time at all the fabulous events, despite the sad fact that Julian wasn’t able to be there with us. If I could just get over my miserly objections to the money that gets spent on dressing so fine, I could even be talked into doing it again sometime. Hopefully, sometime far in the future, though.
I’m not a guy who has any inclination toward wearing a suit on a regular basis.
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Some Wedding
That was some wedding. A classic garden party. I had the honor of being an extra in a feature-film-caliber extravaganza of an event last night at a country club on the shore of Lake Michigan because I am married to Cyndie, sister to Steve, the father of Alec, who married Haley. I have no idea how the future accomplishments of Haley and Alec will unfold, but last night and this entire weekend, they made an impression that whatever they do in life will be exceptional.
I am unable to convey the entirety of the brilliance displayed in the heartfelt messages delivered by the principals who offered toasts to the newlywed couple throughout the evening, nor the graceful and genuine attention Haley and Alec offered to each person before the tent erupted into a celebratory dance of jubilation.
While all that was happening, I found myself equally fascinated by witnessing the elite execution of a top-tier wedding planner and the army of staff who attended to EVERY detail with the utmost precision and professionalism. I was not in Beldenville anymore.
Somehow, I got included, admittedly a bit begrudgingly, in a gathering where there was no hint that cost imposed any limitations on outcomes. I do not feel worthy.
Luckily, I do have a currency with boundless reserves to offer to all of the fascinating people I encountered this weekend. It is love, which fits rather seamlessly with a wedding.
There was a lot of love ricocheting between the two precious people and the multitude of family and friends they managed to bring together for a matrimonial fete that will not soon be forgotten.
It was so mythically flawless that I’m not entirely sure it wasn’t just a figment of our collective imagination.
May equally mythical blessings be bestowed upon this fabulous married couple forevermore.
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So Many
So many minutes.
So many cars.
So many hours.
So many people.
After driving around the parking ramp at the airport for much longer than we hoped, looking for an open spot that we could fit the car into, we got our bags checked and headed for the security line.
I don’t know if this is happening very often these days, but Elysa and I breezed through the “standard check” and had to wait for Cyndie, because she was bogged down in the overcrowded “precheck” line. The security theater is alive and well.
Unfortunately, our short flight from Minneapolis to Chicago involved a repeatedly extending mechanical delay after everyone had boarded the plane, making the trip take twice as long as it could have been. Since Cyndie opted to rent a car, we had an opportunity to wait many more minutes for that line of travelers to be processed.
It is obvious to me that I live a sheltered life, as the throngs of people I was marveling over would be considered quaint compared to even bigger population centers around the world. So many people.
Thankfully, the families and friends who have gathered to celebrate the nuptials of Alec and Haley have thus far proved to be some wonderful people, and the gushing of love for the couple from everyone is truly adorable.
We drove for many minutes from the airport to our hotel. After a quick change into dress clothes, we rode in a shuttle for many minutes to a country club for a welcome party/rehearsal dinner, where toasts were plentiful.
So many people to meet and family members to catch up with.
Today is the wedding and all that comes with that. There is a lotta love in the air.
It is truly beautiful.
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Return Assessment
Our drive home yesterday took us through one downpour that lasted about two minutes, after which I needed to switch the wipers on and off to intermittent for the rest of the way home. The total in the rain gauge upon arrival at Wintervale read five inches.
Our grass was desperate for a cut, but it was soaking wet. Cyndie’s brother, Steve, met us at our house to pick up their mom and transport her the rest of the way to her place in Bloomington. We were thrilled to see that he brought along his new Havapoo puppy, Vern, for us to meet.
I’m sad we didn’t take any pictures of Asher timidly inspecting the little pup. He showed no concern over the appearance of a strange creature in his territory and acted as if he recognized that this young dog deserved special respect. Before they left, Steve let Vern explore a bit in the grass, and the little guy appropriately used the opportunity to poop.
Cyndie said Asher investigated that spot after Steve had picked up the droppings and left it alone to walk over to the other side of the driveway to pee. I think he already senses that Vern is family.
Before I headed to the barn, I stopped by the piles of composting manure to see how things looked after a weekend away and multiple downpours of rain. It was easy to turn over the most active pile and reshape the others to bring everything up to my overly-tended standard.
The paddocks and the horses weren’t as much of a muddy mess as we feared possible. Paddock Lake was full to overflowing. The friends we employ to stay at our home and care for our animals while we are away do a fantastic job of maintaining order regardless of the challenges the weather throws their way.
This week, we have a time scheduled to meet a new volunteer willing to feed the horses for us when needed. That would be a real boon if she chooses to accept the responsibility.
Mix appeared to be telling us about how well the shade sail stood up to all the wild weather that bombarded the place over the weekend.
I am so happy that we don’t need to panic and pull it down every time there is a threat of high winds. I think that having it nestled in a low spot between the barn and the hill of the hay field protects it from suffering the brunt of harsh conditions.
The only issue reported as a result of the heavy rain was a couple of dripping spots from the ceiling of our bathroom. It reminds me that we should be shopping for a roofing company to quote replacing our 15-year-old shingles.
They aren’t completely shot, but they’ve suffered a bit of abuse over the years. We think the leak over the bathroom might be related to the plumbing vent or exhaust fan coming through the shingles there. It only appears during exceptionally heavy downpours and has never amounted to much.
Overall, our assessment of things upon returning home was rewarding. We are very grateful to have superb house sitters who take such great care of our home and animals.
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Relative Something 