travel

Gone – September is Gone

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I have been doing more reading than writing. I admit it. I have been remiss at posting my thoughts about life. But, it is not that I do not have thoughts. Debbie and I have been busy with other things.

Debbie and I have been doing lots and lots of stuff lately. We have been looking at houses and came very close to buying one about a week or so ago but that started us to think seriously about what that would actually mean. So I suspect, I don’t suspect I actually know that’s going to take a lot of thinking and concern and worry and time discerning and considering various things in our lives.

Today, I decided to take a walk. Cardio-rehab is over officially. Walking takes a lot of time and there’s hardly any way to write while I am walking, so today, I am walking and talking to my phone into the handy Notes app I have on my portable communication device we call a smart phone.

A distraction – ( Look this way, lady, thank you. ) People ride on flat park trails with battery bikes. Not too sure why they do that. Seems like especially a flat trail like this that I like to walk, they would be better off with a regular bike. I decided to walk today to get myself in winter mode and I think that means walking. So 2 miles at least today, and then a couple miles in a day or 2. If I keep on doing that, maybe I can get myself back up to the 5 miles I used to do.

This park is full of wildlife and natural plants (not gardens) that live in Ohio and a couple little places where you can veer off into the woods. It’s nice and shady. It’s about 85-88° out the day, so it is awfully warm for October 1st. But what the heck of a good day for a walk. In addition to wildlife, there’s people riding bikes. There’s people riding in line skates. There are couple of old men like me, just walking around. There are a couple other old men who are still or jogging around – they’re pretty gutsy people (wearing knee braces). I don’t think I would do that, but here and there are benches. Where I’m sitting, the river’s probably 50 yd away, it bends around this little slip of land sticking out here if I walk down through the woods. Sun would be shining in my face and it would be pretty crappy fishing, but who can tell. Maybe there are bass in there too.

Anyway , it’s a good day to be out.

This evening, Debbie and I are gonna meet up somewhere and have dinner. But we’re also going to look at a house in Pleasant Ridge. It seems to be our new form of entertainment. If we can find a open house, we go look at it. This particular house is pretty expensive for Pleasant Ridge.

But then I’m an old guy, so I can remember when the 2 houses I bought years ago were like; less than $20,000, ($20,000 in 1973 is equivalent in purchasing power to about $150,891.89 today) and then later on less than $60,000.($57,000 in 1980 is equivalent in purchasing power to about $231,721.60) it is hard to find a house anywhere priced below $300,000. So these days, less than half a million is a good deal. Demand is a remarkable inflater of prices not value.

I don’t know. I’m just not convinced that housing prices should be that high.

I spent a lot of time this morning listening to one of my favorite lecturers or maybe my new favorite lecturer, Robert Reich, he teaches it U C Berkeley campus. Anyway, he was talking about Wealth and Poverty. And that’s intermingled with a whole lot of people’s opinions or ideas about how to make it in the world these days, we’re still clinging to that that Idea that, if you work hard and keep your nose clean, you can pull yourself up by your bootstraps and become rich. I have lived 77 years, I’m not, really not, convinced that’s true. I think you can do pretty well. I think it does make a big difference whether you have a college education or not. I think post secondary education always helps you.

I am writing this by talking to my phone. I have only one half a mile to go.

Carpe Diem

Twas a good day to ride

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It was a good day to ride.

This time of year mid to late February is the time of year that I become anxious maybe even restless to ride my bike outdoors on the Little Miami Trail.

It was a good day to ride.

It was chilly out. I asked Alexa and it reported that it was 48 degrees outside but I ignored that assessment because the sun was shining outside my windows.

It was a good day to ride.

I read with interest as MSN weather on my computer reported that there was little wind only a light breeze from the south. South is good I thought as I examined the leafless trees and bushes outside the window.

It was a good day to ride.

It is rare that in mid-February in Ohio the weather warms to Fahrenheit’s measurement of 60 and the sun is shining and there is little wind and the LMT macadam will be dry.

It was a good day to ride.

I said in my head, “Remember you haven’t sat on that for twelve weeks or so. Remember to ride with prudence. Remember to look down when you stop, if you stop, and do not put your foot into a hole where you stop.”

It was a good day to ride.

I put my bike and the rest of my equipment in the back of my Nissan Rogue and drove to the end of my road to park in the lot near where I ride on the LMT.

It was a good day to ride.

In the lot as I listened to the battery pump inflate the rear tire of my Trek to 60 pounds per square inch, I looked around the nearby field. No snow. A hawk was flying overhead searching for breakfast.

It was a good day to ride.

As I listened to the pump inflate the front tire, I looked through the rest of my bag to find my helmet and my gloves. Satisfied that I was not missing anything I put my water bottle into its holder on the frame.

It was a good day to ride.

The pump shut off automatically and I disconnected it from the stem, unplugged the battery and placed it back in the bag.

It was a good day to ride.

I clipped my cellphone to its holder on the handle bar, adjusted my little fanny pack with my wallet and keys, made one last check of the car and locked the doors.

It was a good day to ride.

I mounted my Trek and looked at the position of the derailleurs. I had garaged it with both in the proper position for an old man to ride off without straining a hamstring.

It was a good day to ride.

I spun the right pedal up to push off. I took one more look around at the weather, my surroundings and any unnoticed grid lock in the parking area on this beautiful great day to ride in February. I was alone.

It was a good day to ride.

I pushed off and reminded myself, five miles this time, feel the air, listen to your muscles, hear your heartbeat, stop and stretch if I need to do it.

It was a good day to ride.

There were a few walkers. There were a few dog walkers. I rode to 47.5 painted on the LMT surface near a good place for breakfast if I wanted it. I did not.

It was a good day to ride.

I made a U-turn and rode back past the horse paddocks and the lot where I had parked. I rode south to the 50 painted on the macadam. I rode past the portion of the trail trying to slide down the hill. It has needed repair for some time. It is well marked and I ride around the damage.

It was a good day to ride.

I made a U-turn just south of the 50 and on my return to the north I heard a friendly, “On your left!” I replied with, “Thanks” as he went by and thought to myself that he was not going much faster than I was at the time.

It was a great day to ride. And I felt I was home. I was proud of myself for sticking to my five miles today.

Back at the car I reversed the unload process and put all in the back of my Rogue. I started the car and lowered the windows. I ate a few peanuts that I had with me and reflected on how great it was that the universe put me here at this time and gave me the health to enjoy the now.

It was a great day to ride.

On the way home from my first jaunt on the trail, I saw two does by the side of the road chatting about what a great day it was… or simply socializing… or discussing ways to get rid of their winter coats… or hiding from the stags.

Back in my garage I left the bike in the back of the car. Another opportunity could present itself. I need to be present for it.

It is simply a great day.

Carpe Diem.

Friday

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This day of the week has over time become special to me and to Debbie and I.

Last year the part time teaching job I had with a local community college involved maintaining an open lab on Wednesday and Thursday evenings as well as Tuesday mornings. Debbie works in her profession on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday also. I remarked once to her that our Friday came on Thursday, so our Saturday came on Friday. It was our day of relaxation, dinner or lunch and other dates.

The movie theaters are very uncrowded on Fridays. Sometimes in our favorite theater us and one other couple are watching the film. I like that.

When I bought tickets to the play we are going to see tonight I specifically picked the Friday performance.

When we started dating, that term seemed foreign to me. I referred to our outings as field trips. I think, I am certain, I was hunting for a term that would not hurt Cheryl’s feelings. Cheryl had passed on from this earthly existence but then as now she is still in my heart. Field trip is a term Debbie and I still use to describe our date activities. Much like a term of endearment it is a code, a phrase with a personal meaning for being together and enjoyment of an activity.

“We need a field trip.” she will say. My reply is yes we do and off we go to dinner and a movie or something.

Today the field trip is an afternoon luncheon and later this evening the play at Cincinnati’s Playhouse in the Park. The performance is “Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women” an adaptation by playwright Lauren M. Gunderson. I am looking forward to it for several reasons. It is coming to Cincinnati directly from Portland where my sister lives. Some of the actors are from there. I could not get through the book earlier in my life so I am inclined to find it in the library and read it again to see if my reading tastes have changed as I grow older. However, the real reason is that I have an opportunity to spend time with Debbie.

We will talk and muse about the past week. We will discuss Florida again. It is currently snowing in our part of the world so we will complain a bit about that. Afterward we will discuss the play itself over a glass of wine and maybe a snack.

We are going tonight because our trip to Florida bumped this play from our schedule last week. Another field trip is what we both need during this snowy season in Ohio.

We could stay in and whine about the weather or we could ignore it and rejoice in life and its pleasurable attributes. Soon the snow will be over.

Snow-mageddon be damned. We are going to the play.

Carpe Diem.

Ohio is Home

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Reflections After a Wonderful and Pleasant Trip

While waiting for the dryer to finish up I sat in my guest bedroom for a bit to think and reflect and simply enjoy the quiet for a bit after returning from a very pleasant trip to Naples Florida with two of my favorite people. We planned this trip before the holidays. In a bit of universal serendipity the late January snow-mageddon that blanketed the Midwestern section of the country remained aloof until we were settled in our little rent-a-cottage near old Naples.

We are back now. No matter what I may think about cold Ohio temperatures, it is great to be home. I have lived in this part of the world all my life and have had the opportunity in my working career to travel to many other places in the U. S. and abroad. It is always great to be back home.

Over the weekend as I was watching the newsy shows, a weather guy reported that temperatures in the 20s were expected in Miami on Sunday. Alas for them. They will need long pants and socks.

Later, folding and rolling and putting away, I thought how many pairs of socks does one need? Immediately behind that came a thought about T-shirts. We do live in a great place. Again is not an issue.

Fortunately, not all of Florida is beaches and crowded restaurants. Fortunately also, there are direct flights to Naples, Florida from Cincinnati, Ohio (and back). The car started easily. Very little snow was on it after having been parked in an open lot for eight days.

Debbie and I made it safely home. Joyce is back in Portland. It was a nice respite.

Carpe Diem

connections - NYT

2026 Complaint

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Dear New York Times Games Editor,

My girl friend and I wish to register a complaint with reference to the January 1, 2026 Connections puzzle published at midnight.

Often in the early morning we exchange SMS messages to determine how well we slept over night. It is also a routine of ours to put our heads together and discover the categories to the connections puzzle published in your paper. I have subscribed to your paper for many years and I am writing to register a complaint.

This mornings purple category is without question sneaky and incorrect. “vegetables without a letter” is incorrect. “vegetables without some letters” is the correct category but this designation applies to many words and is therefore sneaky and unkind to duo solvers such as us. Shame on you!

Your clue category of “ALE EEK HIVE QUASH” was very puzzling to us both early this morning. I suggested to my love – words without the starting “S”. Shive is in fact a word albeit an obscure one, so obscure this word processing program underlines it with red squiggles. Similar to a bung it is used to close a barrel or container. It is also the past pluperfect of the noun shiv when used as a verb to indicate the style of injury enacted upon another in a reformatory situation.

Although “KALE” is a veggie of some note among the svelte exercise and tight glutes set, it is of no interest to those of us who began life in the previous millennium. Similarly “SQUASH” aka mixed vegetables on the restaurant menu is only of marginal interest, however, these are valid choices in a certainly weak category of vegetables without a letter.

Whoever orders one leek will certainly looked upon with disdain and if that same person were to request no chive be included in their sour cream for the baked potato, she or he would in all probability be banned for life from any available table. Further shame cast upon that person! It is with this last that I am called to register the most grievous complaint for chives although is in fact a plant it is more likely to be described as a spice or a garnish than an actual vegetable. As proof of this position, I offer no restaurant menu offers as a side item chive. Nor would that same institution include one chive mixed with sour cream to enliven the taste of an otherwise boring baked potato.

Further support of this position being unnecessary, I close my letter of complaint and bid you and yours a very merry and happy new year.

With best regards,

The Adjunct Wizard

connections - NYT

Carpe Diem in the new year.

Astoria column

The Left Coast Trip

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The Pacific and Oregon

I have been to visit my sister in Portland several times. It is always a relaxed visit for me. It seems a relaxed visit with Debbie this time.

Seeing and visiting with my sister in her own environment is always a treat. I learn new things about her and find out what a remarkable woman my sibling is.

The next door neighbor who is a single mom, and her daughter had traveled to Mexico to visit with the mom’s boyfriend’s family. For some unknown reason the daughter was flying home before mom and Joyce had volunteered to pick up the daughter at the airport and give her a ride to her home next door. There was a small delay and some excitement at the international part of the airport apparatus as mom had given the 14 year old daughter a bottle of tequila to transport home.

At the custom’s desk the question of – anything to declare? – was met with the young girl’s honest response of – yes I have a bottle of tequila. Not to be judgey but – Gee Whiz, Mom. What are you thinking about?

Info from the Customs and Border agents website — Generally, one liter of alcohol per person may be entered into United States duty-free by travelers who are 21 years or older. …. It is illegal for travelers under the age of 21 to import alcohol – even as a gift. They confiscated the tequila of course and when Joyce communicated this information, Mom was incensed.

Columbia River


This sort of information is not hard to find. I found the words italicized above by typing “amount of liquor one may bring into the us duty free?” into Google. I would imagine Duck Duck Go would work too. I did not need to spell U.S. correctly. An amazing service Google is. Gee whiz, Mom. Were you in an area with no bars for your carrier? Her daughter was burdened with a lot of follow-up questions. Who is picking you up? Where is your mother? Imagine in today’s climate a light brown-skinned child’s anxiety.


A child, a dog and three older folks

My sister swung into action and invited the young one on our own excursion into the Columbia river tour and peach purchasing trip. Ice cream treats were served at the end of the afternoon. What a joy to have this mature inquisitive vivacious young girl with us. I think I may have forgotten the joy and wonder that young people bring to life.

Debbie works with young children in her clinical practice so she is tuned into the younger generation and the culture. This young woman was on the cusp of starting a new high school experience. Much of the conversation was sparked by this fact and the excitement that she felt with starting into a new school in a few days. Mom works remotely at her job so as long as the internet was available she could do her job from Mexico. I could hear the dad in me wondering, shouldn’t mom be here commiserating and agonizing with her daughter about high school, teenage-hood, and all the new stuff? Gee whiz. Maybe go and buy a couple new shirts and some of those pre-ripped jeans that the kids wear?

The huckleberry shakes were pretty darn good although I thought the straw was kind of smallish for an ice cream shake. And what is a huckleberry anyway? The conversation was great. I had forgotten the enthusiasm of young people.

Later in the week we visited Rockaway Beach for two nights. We had the best food at Mama Mia’s in Nehalem. We stopped at Astoria to see the column. We bought a couple refrigerator magnets because tourists do that. We ate more food and came back to Portland.

All in all a good time was had by all.

Carpe Diem

Holy Cow It is March 30th

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And it is soon to be March31st.

Debbie, et al. is stuck in the great state of spring break. Allegiant air has disappointed them by changing days for their return flight. Oh well, that is part of the excitement of breaking. She went there with two kids and three grand kids. She is still there.

The universal flight constant was out of alignment with their travel plans.

There are many of these constants constantly cramping various plans humans make for themselves.

A cynical comment is “Man plans. God laughs.” It has several variations but always ends with god laughs. I find it disappointing to believe in a creator who laughs at you. I much prefer a creator who laughs with you.

The universe did not laugh at us when Cheryl and I imagined our future full of travel and good times. A future that was full of family and mirth. A trip hoped for and planned for to Alaska had a little rain and funny towel sculptures. Life had birthday parties and grand kids graduations, dance competitions and valedictorians, surprise visits. We laughed together. We had fun together. Laughed with.

The universe has a vision. Details are in the pixels. Finite divisions of the view are defined by various constants.

Many, many years ago I took a couple photography classes. One of the things we talked about was how color images and black & white images are printed. Tiny little dots (pixels) are used to do this. Our own eyes do this to convey information to the brain and it constructs a view of the world which is remarkably uniform and complete. Our brains are complex and rapid computers. The details are in the pixels but the brain extrapolates that discrete information into our view of the world.

We have vision. We should stay focused on the view. Universal constants realign with the vision. And the universe although unraveling, is doing so as it will.

Debbie et al. will be home soon. The flight tracker app shows her little airplane in the air over the gee in Georgia. The universe is laughing (maybe giggling is a better word) with me. She will be home soon.

Carpe Diem.

Toaster Ovens

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Far be it from me to criticize the American appliance industry but I often wonder what jumped into the engineering head of folks who decided a toaster oven was a much needed appliance.  Having a small oven is handy in its own way but why call it a toaster? Why temp us toast lovers with the ability to get warm morning toast when one actually gets the stale bread a week later.

Indeed toasted bread can be achieved in several different ways with one critical ingredient, great heat applied for a short or relatively short period of time. Toaster ovens are unable to do either. Generally they fit into the vast category of “Almost A Great Idea” or AAGI (aw-gee) for short. At one time in the past we owned a toaster oven which also had the ability to roast a chicken. It had a built in rotisserie gizmo to spear the chicken with and rotate through the meager heat source. (aw-gee) After much trial and error we determined that the timer needed to be able to set itself to much more than the 45 minutes on the dial. The heat source warm up is include in this time since it is not instant on. (Alas and aw-gee)

Many devices fit into AAGI. Instapots and Airfriers might be two more. But often it is fun and necessary to use a device with a small heat source that supplies invaluable cleaning expertise and practice.

Microwave ovens supply this valuable expertise as they are able to rapidly take water from liquid to gas in a rice-sized pocket spreading soup or any other suitable substance over the entire inner surface while keeping the rest of the bowl at the temperature of a standard refrigerator. They are remarkable devices. If you ever require rubberized eggs for any recipe, a low wattage microwave is just the perfect solution.

All of these thoughts came to over the past several days as I pondered another stale bread morning in my nephew’s beautiful, quaint and cute little bungalow in Port St. Joe, Florida. My sister and my girlfriend and I spent three wonderful days there this past week.

We drove in my car so we did not have the wonderful packing experience of making everything fit into one suitcase. We took our time. We stopped occasionally to look for best toilet facilities. We visited Bukee’s in Alabama. No soft serve ice cream at Bukee’s which is a sad state of affairs. (aw-gee) We stopped at the Shrimp Lady which claims to be restaurant-ish on Google Maps. It is not but we bought 2 pounds of shrimps as big as my thumb that came off the boat 20 – 30 minutes previously. Over the next couple of days we ate them as shrimp and cheesy grits, and shrimp with garlic, onion, green pepper and spaghetti with marinara and generous Parmesan cheese.

Did the two most important women in my life just bring me along to cook and drive the car? It was a great trip.

Back to the toaster oven. It is a fine device in its own way but entirely unsatisfactory for making toast in the morning. The Nespresso Virtuo, however, makes excellent coffee one cup at a time, every time, as long as the special pods and a water source are nearby. Foamy luxurious coffee.

We are back home in Ohio. The forsythia in the back is just opening itself. The daffodils are poking up and wondering what the forsythia can see that they cannot. The forest view through my window is greenish against the browns and grayness.

Daylight saving? Time is here. And as Debbie says, “the light is returning to the planet”

I am off to ponder a method of saving the daylight and fold the laundry from the trip.

Carpe Diem.

Some Men have not Eaten Quiche

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Real Men don’t Eat Quiche

Yesterday my nephew, Jeff, and his family came to visit. It was a spontaneous phone message in the dark of the movie theater. “I’m in town for a few days on business. Can we get together for breakfast or lunch?” He lives in California and I have not talked to him face to face since his wedding three years ago. I invited him to my little condo and spread the word to my kids. It was a wonderful spontaneous family gathering.

When I mentioned it to my neighbor Jane later she remarked, “Serendipitous!” Yes, it was.

I made a quiche out of some random components that I had in the refrigerator. Quiche and frittata are in the same category of use what you have, I think. And of the two I think quiche is better. It could be the pastry crust that is required for an excellent quiche. One can make a crustless quiche but that is just lazy and in that other country it is called frittata, so, go over the mountain and call your crustless quiche by the correct name.

Jeff told me that no one had ever made him a quiche before. (It made me feel good inside. I was proud of myself.) The title for this essay jumped into my head after they were all gone yesterday. It is from a satirical little book that I recently found was written in the 80s. (Wow, I am getting old. I thought it was written just a couple years ago.) I had almost said it to him when he said, this is pretty good.

This quiche was bacon, Italian sausage, broccoli and onions with sharp cheddar and mozzarella, eggs scrambled with a little sugar and buttermilk over a pie dough made with flour and butter and a little salt. It was good.

Sometimes us real men eat quiche and pronounce it to be good. The accompanying picture is AI’s version of real men eating quiche. You can tell they are real people because they are washing down their quiche and other green substances with lager. (Never mind the fact that they all have the same mother and they were all born within 15 seconds of each other.)

Beer and quiche, Could be the breakfast of champions.

Carpe the serendipitous Diem.

Time Alone

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Cumberland Thoughts

I came to be alone with my thoughts for awhile and hike in the woods.

Leaves falling in a light breeze in a forest sounds like rain if you listen. They mark the end of a season. They make no promises about the next season. The plants go dormant and wait in hope of spring.

When hiking on leaf covered trails pick up your feet to avoid tripping on invisible rocks and tree roots. (Sometimes wisdom emerges during a morning Autumn hike in the woods.) This learning experience dissipated a mere hundred yards down the trail. The lesson was repeated to emphasize its importance.

Another wisdom arose nearing the end of this trail, one I often forget; “You are not a child or even young anymore. Those steep grades covered with leaves are not for you.”

There are many memories in this park and they are all mixed up in my heart and head. You, Cheryl, got the kids and grand kids to appear for my 60th birthday and our 38th anniversary. We came here many times. Now you are gone and I am here without you.

I have to leave that thought. This is an experiment with a new experience. I am still feeling my way along. Am I here because this is the new beginning? That old adage – This is the first day of the rest of your life! – popped into my mind. What should I do with it?

I talk about being old but I am not really. I can walk without assistance. I should focus on what is possible. I have not hiked trail #6 up to the DuPont lodge since Luke was seven or so. Up up and away. I made it and not too winded. (I am not afraid to tune into my body and take a break when it tells me.)

These are things that ran through my thoughts today as I followed two woodland trails. The first down to Cumberland falls from the DuPont lodge in the park. The second back up the cliff to the lodge for a bite of lunch.

This park has a lot of history for Cheryl and me. We came here on our honeymoon trip. We spent a week in one of the old cabins not far from the lodge. In those days (1970) the housekeeping folks showed up everyday with fresh towels and two rolls of toilet paper in what looked like an old milk delivery truck. We took some home, I think. We were poor. Later I would wonder what they thought we were doing that we needed so much toilet paper for. It was late August but I could not imagine how that factored into it.

After the kids were grown and on their own we came back here for our 25th wedding anniversary. I had thought we might do a big deal trip for that but here seemed appropriate. Afterward we came here many times on the weekend near our anniversary. It is close and special. Those particular trips, about ten or fifteen years worth, are special memories. On some trips we when to other Kentucky parks but we continued to return to Cumberland Falls. The last time was before the pandemic pandemonium.

I was thinking about that yesterday. Cheryl needed a cane to lean on then. I asked her when the last time was that we were here as I walked up the front steps into the lodge and she flashed me a picture of her holding her cane and holding the handrail to go down the steps in front. (She was stubborn about ramps.) Often she sends images to me.

Carpe Diem and the images as they become memories.

(Cartoon from Reddit.)