Pam Webb

a writer's journey as a reader

Archive for the category “summer”

01 Sep 2015
7 Comments

A Trio of Shakespeare 


Considering I had no exposure or any real knowledge of Shakespeare until I began teaching his works in high school, I’ve certainly made up for lost time.

In the twelve years of morphing from a displaced school librarian to an AP teacher I’ve developed an appreciation for Wm. Sh. to the point of labeling myself a Bardinator. *

“Yo, thou intensely doeth Bard if thy be a Bardinator.” image: flickr.com

Bardinator /n./ a person who goes beyond face value knowledge of Shakespearean works and dives in to study, appreciate, and revel in the works of William Shakespeare to the point of total commitment. Simply put–a dedication to the Bard’s works beyond what is considered sufficiently normal. 

This summer I have reveled in more Bard than usual. It began, appropriately enough on July 4th* when I landed in Washington DC to study Hamlet for a week at the Folger Shakespeare Library.

Later that month I finally got around to Anonymous, which is actually anti-Bard, as it is a ridiculous conjecture that William Shakespeare was not a brilliant playwright but actually a drunken sot of an actor fronting for some earl who was a closet playwright. The only takeaway was how stunningly the time period and the theater was portrayed. I squirmed through this insulting and terrible premise to absorb the glory of the Elizabethean stage snippets. One star of note was Mark Rylance. This observation led me to–

Twelfth Night starring Mark Rylance in the role of Olivia. Yes, finally. A Shakespearen production as it might have been presented because of the all male cast. The play was filmed at The Globe with a live audience (groundlings included) in sharp, glorious HD. Mark Rylance and his troupe superceded expectations. It was unprecedented theater. I will have problems readjusting to women playing women now in Bard dramas because Shakespeare wrote the parts knowing men/boys would be playing women. Or in the case of Viola/Caesario-, a youth playing a woman disguised as a youth. The lines and meaning take on a whole new dimension with the knowledge it’s two men playing they are attracted to each other but the manly man doesn’t want to admit to it . But thr audience knows the fair youth is really supposed to be a woman since it’s a boy playing a woman dressed as a boy. The confusion is intentional, as is the jovial mistaken engendered double meanings.

“Yonder sun doth the moon, y’all.” Image: YouTube.com

To round out the summer I watched my first ever Shakespeare in the Park or more precisely, on the grass at the local fairgrounds.  A group of thespians out of Montana traversing five states presenting either Cyrano or Taming of the Shrew graced our fare (or fair) town. And what a turn out. Beginning at three o’clock people arrived to claim their patch of grass and browsed the various booths ranging from spun wool goods to sword play. A lively Renaissance trio added appropriate musical ambiance. At six o’clock the western-themed show begun and the audience whistled and hooted out their appreciation at all the puns and ribaldry. The best bit was unplanned when a wee little lass wandered onto the stage at just the moment when Petruchio instructs Kate to speak to the “maiden” (Vincentio).

“Speak to yonder maiden, Kate. Not that one–the other one.”

Not missing a beat, Vincentio grabs up the sweet interloper and announces: “This is my granddaughter” and managed to return her to an embarrassed audience mother.

A truly fun community event to commemorate the closing of summer. Soon I will be bringing Shakespeare to the classroom, but perhaps we’ll Bard out on the lawn. BOOC–bring our own chairs.

Did anyone else have a bit of Bard along with their beach and BBQ days this summer?

—————————-

*yes, there is a connection of studying Shakespeare during America’s independence week–Wm. Sh. became our nation’s first playwright when his plays sailed over from England. In fact, the Folger has the first Elizabethean stage. A regular Tudor de force (upon which I played a hammy Horatio).

*I just spent an hour hopscotching about the Net trying to find that nifty definition I stumbled across years ago. No luck. I did find a new blog concerning Shakespeare. I have created my own definition. This will be a work in progress and I am quite open to other interpretations.

Posted in Movies, Reflections, Shakespeare, summer, Teachers, writers and tagged , , , , , ,
06 Jul 2015
5 Comments

Cricket’s Hamlet Adventure: Day Two


After going to bed well after 11pm, drifting to dreamland to the continuing firecracker pops of Fourth of July celebrants and the  police sirens indicating aforementioned celebrants needed corralling, I realized my depth of tired from my very full first day. 

Second day

I slept in: 7:10 am. Jet lag, so far, proves no problem. 

Hmmm, whatever shall I do until 3 pm when I return to prepare for the welcome dinner? Since I’m walking, not being adventurous enough to attempt tour buses, taxis, or Metro buses, I fiddle with Google and determine the Smithsonian American History Museum is doable. I plug in Siri and her Google Maps expertise, and off I trot.

Forty minutes later I arrive with only five minutes until opening.

Highlights:

  • Third one in the door and I bee-line it to American Stories and gaze upon Dorothy’s Ruby Reds. 
  • I then promptly lose my school district’s iPad by leaving it on top of a display case. Great–fifteen minutes newly arrived as a tourist and visions of an angst filled day erupt. Prayer, and an angel of a docent, *shout out to Craig* my iPad and I am reunited via lost and found. The security man admonishs me to be “more careful” and I shall be.
  • Continuing on as a thankful and much more careful school teacher tourist, I return to discovering the Americana that reminds me how unique America is in its history. For instance, two favorite presidents as I’ve never seen them before:

The first statue of George Washington. They had gyms back then? Pretty impessive abs, GW.

  •    

Lincoln’s life mask. A bit macabre until realizing this was first cast when he was alive in 1860. Photographs are one thing, but this impression indelibly reveals a realism photographs can’t deliver. Moving through the Civil War exhibit I come across his last known photograph. I tear up. What a great man. What a great loss. I am emotional in each of the various military exhibits, reflecting upon family members who have served or plan to serve, and those, not just family, who have sacrificed for our country. Eyes and throat swelling with emotional realization of what sacrifice means, when I entered the Star-Spangled Banner exhibit, especially viewing the Ft. McHenry flag–yes, THE flag. 

Other highlights:

  • First Ladies inaugural gowns which both caught both the personality of the First Lady and a reflection of the time period.
  • A video of a nurse who had a reunion thirty-four years later with the Vietnamese baby girl rescued and was christened Kathleen. “They said we were killing babies during the war; here’s proof we saved them,” stated the nurse.
  •  DC is amazingly clean and everyone is so nice. From docents to other tourists, everyone is polite, friendly, and helpful. This teaches me to not believe in Bruce Willis’s Die Hard movies. DC does not stand for downright corrupt. It’s clean and nice, at least in my encounters so far.
  • I briefly stopped in the National Art Gallery. The beauty of exquisite masterpieces rendered me speechless at moments. Being inches from a Rembrandt reminds me how beautiful is the creativity of the human soul. 

    one of the many paintings that I beheld

     

After a much needed nap, I readied to meet my Hamlet Homies. We pizza-ed, we chatted, and we were briefed on our itinerary. We shall be Hamletting from 8am to 9pm Monday through Friday. This is the reason I’m here. “This isn’t the beach,” the director gently admonished us. “There are sixty other people who would love to be where you are.” Gulp. The pins she handed out carry a new meaning: 


To be or not to be committed to giving up my personal agenda of wanting to be a DC tourist (at least more than one day) and instead immerse myself in my Shakesperean scholar potential. 

We will see what Will holds in store for me. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow…

 

    Posted in Americans, bloggers, education, Literature, Shakespeare, summer, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , , ,
    05 Jul 2015
    3 Comments

    Cricket’s Great Hamlet Adventure:Day One


    The day was certainly full:

    • Up at 3 am to catch a 6 am
    • Fly over at least 3 time zones
    • Learn quickly how to ride the MARC from Baltimore to DC
    • Figure out my hotel from Union Station
    • Where to eat dinner? Back to Union Station because the pub next dinner is not on my budget
    • Move with the masses to the Mall for fireworks–crowds are not my fave, but Fourth of July at the nation’s capitol? I got over myself and blended, absorbed, dodged, and weaved.
    • I claimed a spot and waited.
    • There were so many cultures represented I felt I was at an outdoor Ikea festival (okay, my odd personal reference since whenever I go to an Ikea it’s like a UN day, either that or my smalltown bubbling is showing)
    • The big moment: 
       

    NOTE: our smalltown event lasts about 10 minutes consisting of very dramatically spaced singular shots. I was indeed properly dazzled by this pyrotechnic dazzlement. 

    • And then my approximate 19 minutes back to the hotel turn into an hour long “lost, yet flowing with the masses walking tour of DC at 10 o’clock at night”–it would have been scary except for there being two cops for every second block. Locals were very friendly and helpful in redirecting me. At one point after asking directions once again (I forgot to turn on my precise location indicator on my Google Maps–now corrected) a nice young woman caught up to me on the sidewalk and sincerely cautioned me about steering clear of the sketchy 8th street area. And I thought DC would be harsh and sense my smalltown girl and chomp me up. Everyone, especially the police, have been very nice.

    DAY TWO: squeezing in Dorothy’s shoes before dinner

      Posted in America, Americans, celebrations, summer, travel, Uncategorized and tagged , , ,
      01 Jul 2015
      12 Comments

      All My Bag(s) Are Packed…


      I am ready to go. If you recall I earlier announced I am headed to Washington DC as one of the selected thirty teachers who will be part of the first ever Folger Shakespeare Summer Workshop. Though I won a spot, I still pay for the privilege. That was a different post.

      This post brings more details. For one: packing.

      I am in a firm believer in stow and go. I stuff what I need in my trusty Wally World roller, find an overhead bin and stuff it in. This trip is different. The MEPA, my most excellent personal assistant, will not be traveling with me. Flying six hours with a knee newly escaped from his brace is not on his list of really want to do that. Besides, he grew up on the east coast and has done Washington DC. I’ve not, and I am admittedly nervous. To save money I’m flying into Baltimore and will take the shuttle. I don’t want to look too much like tourist so I opted not to have a wheeled suitcase thumping behind me on the sidewalk. I shall be a bag lady instead. One of the sons left behind a nifty black sports bag and behold, all my stuff rolls up nicely inside. So packing is pretty much a done deal. Squeezing my needed lotions etc in the TSA quart bag proved more challenging (mousse or toothpaste–if the hair looks good do people notice teeth?)

      Because I have such an early flight (six-oh-my am) and the airport is about a two hour drive, plus having to arrive for early check in, I splurged and we are booked in at a Red Lion near the airport. I buy the room, the MEPA can spring for dinner. It might equal out because we favor this nice little spot that overlooks the river.

      My final travel prep entails my tourist itinerary. Having recently received my schedule I discover we are Hamletting from early morn to late at night. I have one day of DCing: Monday July 5 from 8 am to 3pm. Having scouted internet sources and weighing in opinions I’ve come up with this list of possibilities:

      • The Mall–apparently all the major landmarks harken in this area
      • The Library of Congress–I’ve already applied for my reader’s card
      • The Smithsonian–only if I’m very, very particular, as an entire week could be spent in just one wing. I’m thinking I would like to gaze upon Dorothy’s ruby red Oz slippers or Mr Roger’s cardigan. 

      What else, dear readers,  should I go for in such limited time? The Capitol is practically right outside the hotel, the website states. So much to do, so little time….

      Posted in America, Reflections, Shakespeare, summer, travel and tagged , , ,
      26 Jun 2015
      5 Comments

      June POM: nice whether


      June is an interesting month around my parts. In the time it takes to say “what’s it gonna do today?” the weather changes, so we don’t know whether it will be chilly or hot. At the beginning of the month it has been known to be cold enough to have a frosty wake up, so we light a chill-breaker in the morning, only to run the air conditioner by mid-afternoon due to the surge in temperature. It makes for the school’s outdoor graduation an interesting guess. I’m glad I don’t have to make that call of inside or outside.

      This radical rolling of temperature swings causes some bodacious storms at times. The sudden swirl of wind, rattling of angry rain, that tempers out into penitent miffs of drips as the sky clears into blue and friendly puffy clouds  once again. Oh I do enjoy those brief summer storms. I hide out under the back porch to witness these summer snits. I guess they reflect the ocassional temper tantrum I might have tossed about in my younger days ( I’m not admitting anything).

      Leonara Speyer captures well that brief snit fit found in summer:

      Squall by Leonora Speyer

      The squall sweeps gray-winged across the obliterated hills,

      And the startled lake seems to run before it;

      From the wood comes a clamor of leaves,

      Tugging at the twigs,

      Pouring from the branches,

      And suddenly the birds are still.
      Thunder crumples the sky,

      Lightning tears at it.
      And now the rain!

      The rain—thudding—implacable—

      The wind, reveling in the confusion of great pines!
      And a silver sifting of light,

      A coolness;

      A sense of summer anger passing,

      Of summer gentleness creeping nearer—

      Penitent, tearful,

      Forgiven!

       

      I would be remiss if I did not include a poem that reflects the current situation of June: IT IS REALLY, REALLY HOT, and way too early for such heat–at least in our parts. So here is another side of summer that reminds us that while summer is mostly lovely it can be hot as riding into battle.

      To Summer by William Blake

      O thou who passest thro’ our valleys in
      Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat
      That flames from their large nostrils! thou, O Summer,
      Oft pitched’st here thy golden tent, and oft
      Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld
      With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.
      Beneath our thickest shades we oft have heard
      Thy voice, when noon upon his fervid car
      Rode o’er the deep of heaven; beside our springs
      Sit down, and in our mossy valleys, on

      Some bank beside a river clear, throw thy
      Silk draperies off, and rush into the stream:
      Our valleys love the Summer in his pride.

      Our bards are fam’d who strike the silver wire:
      Our youth are bolder than the southern swains:
      Our maidens fairer in the sprightly dance:
      We lack not songs, nor instruments of joy,
      Nor echoes sweet, nor waters clear as heaven,
      Nor laurel wreaths against the sultry heat.

      For an interesting commentary on the poem, check out this link.

       

      Posted in Nature, Poetry, Reflections, Seasons, summer, writers and tagged , , , , ,
      06 Jun 2015
      10 Comments

      End of Year Cheer


      Last night rounded out the academic year of 2015. I actually feel somewhat refreshed instead of the usual frazzle.

      My, to borrow a phrase, “parting of sweet sorrow,” began early in the day. Having posted my grades the day before, a perk of having seniors, and having already tidied up my room, I decided to plant lavender and poppies outside my school window. One teacher greeted me with “Hey, Miss Maudie!” I took that for a compliment.

      I then listened to essays of future AP students–promising beginnings. After that I polished some lesson plans for next year, arranged books in the library (you can take a librarian out of the library, but never the library out of a librarian), rearranged my room, and waited for the final bell. Having no students, I listened for how students would react to their release from captivity.

      “Summer!” “I can’t get out of this building fast enough!” 

      I’m not sure if those were student or staff voices crying out their jubilation.

        
      After a quick power nap, it was off to help ready seniors for our community graduation at the football field. A few moments of the usual panic–“my walking partner isn’t here yet!” “I lost my tassel!” “The valedictorian can’t find her speech!” “Do I have time to go to the bathroom?” but we managed to line them up, march them off over to the bleachers to the repeated strains of commencement’s “da da dada da da”. Many speeches later,  and after no pranks of slipping the principal interesting bits of memorabilia, the class of 2015 tossed their hats in celebration.

      Next stop: grad nite.

      How to persuade new grads from going to parties and ending a happy day with a series of unfortunate events? Easy. Throw a party for them. Having done this rodeo three times with my own kinder, I help out by selling tickets and wandering around as a floater. Fun, food, and a chance to hug students one last time? I’m all in–at least until midnight. And the band played on until the wee hours of the morning.

      This morning? I still woke up at 5:30 am. I guess my body isn’t quite ready for vacation yet.

      I am hoping to dust off the laptop and get some writing projects cranking before fall arrives sooner than I hope it will.

      Any other teachers, students, or parents embracing the delights of school being out?

      Posted in America, celebrations, education, Reflections, summer, Teachers and tagged , ,
      19 Apr 2015
      5 Comments

      NPM: #19–morning splendor


      A Gift

      Leonora Speyer (1872-1956)

      I Woke: —
      Night, lingering, poured upon the world
      Of drowsy hill and wood and lake
      Her moon-song,
      And the breeze accompanied with hushed fingers
      On the birches.

      Gently the dawn held out to me
      A golden handful of bird’s-notes.

       

      There are so many lovely images resounding throughout. I envision summer–standing on a hill overlooking a grassy meadow, the sun slowly cresting the horizon and in that crystalline moment a trill of robin song adds to the joy of another morning, another day of promise.

      Posted in Americans, birds, Nature, Poetry, Reflections, summer and tagged , , , ,
      03 Oct 2014
      1 Comment

      Of Entry Deadlines Whooshing By


      Scrolling through my iPhone notes, I came across a bit of writing that I had good intentions of entering into a writing contest. Oops. That Vonnegut deadline whoosh went by me, but I like the piece so much I couldn’t resist sharing it. The contest required the telling of a story in dialogue only, without any tags. Challenge accepted, just not actualized. Here goes:
      “Do you need some help?”
      “Seems I’ve twisted my ankle.I’ll be all right. My friends are returning with the car.”
      “I’m going in that direction. I’ll take you to when you’re staying.”
      “That’s all right. They should be along shortly.”
      “Those clouds indicate a change in the weather.”
      “Yes, I think you’re right. Are you sure it’s no trouble?”
      “None at all.”
      “Thank you for your help.”
      “You’re welcome. You’re American?”
      “Yes, I’m visiting with friends. We’re on a hiking tour.”
      “Yes, I’ve often hiked this area. You must have stepped in a rabbit hole.”
      “Probably so. This is a bit awkward. I don’t quite know what to say.”
      “Ah, we are addressing the elephant after all, then.”
      “Oh, right. Yes, well…”
      “I’m on holiday. There is no obligation.”
      “Courtesy and good manners at least.
      “And they say Americans are rude.”
      “Not always.”
      “How is the ankle?”
      “Truthfully, I’ve forgotten about it. It doesn’t look like a bad sprain. I’ll recover.”
      “Ice and elevation. I’m no physician, but I’ve dealt with a few twisted ankles. The men folk do their fair share of traipsing these hills on their hunts. Do you hunt?”
      “Only with my camera.
      “Much preferable, though I still appreciate the hunt. Tradition. It’s difficult to get away from tradition.”
      “That’s my group. Up ahead, yes, over there by those trees. Looks like they’ve stopped for lunch.”
      “Are you up to walking? I can set you closer to your camp.”
      “Yes, well. The ankle is still a bit tender.”
      “Then it’s best I drive you to your camp.”
      “Only if it wouldn’t be an inconvenience. Thank you. That would be appreciated.”
      “Is that it, by those cars?”
      “Yes. Well, thank you once again.”
      “Enjoy your stay and I hope you have a full recovery.”
      “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

       

       

       

      Posted in Americans, Blogging, holidays, summer, travel and tagged , , , ,
      07 Sep 2014
      2 Comments

      Summer Wonders


      Returning school goes beyond getting back into a routine because it means I also have to make adjustments to my practicing for retirement. No more rolling over and going back to sleep, no more schlepping around in jammies, no more naps, no more odd eating hours, or meals for that matter. And worst of all, no more diving into books for an entire day and barely coming up for air. Responsible English teachers don’t partake in any of the above behaviors. At least not during the school year. Yet, summer vacation does allow me to practice the art of retirement and one of those skills is thoroughly enjoying a really good read. I was fortunate this year and enjoyed more than my usual share of good reads:

      All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

      Breathtaking in its flow and style, I absolutely devoured Doerr’s novel about two lost children. Set in WWII, Doerr portrays the war in a way I’ve not encountered before. One perspective is through the blind eyes of Marie, a young French girl whose indomitable spirit carries her beyond the war’s cruelties. The other perspective is that of Werner, a German youth whose talents land him in the Hitler Youth. The parallel stories eventually telescope down to a satisfying denouement. Doerr, already an award-winning author, will do doubt increase his presence with this amazing tale of how the spirit can overcome its surroundings.

      Mr. Penumbra’s 24 Hour Book Store by Robin Sloan

      Sometimes I simply have to take a break from the pedantic pace of classics, or step away from serious literary excursions. Mr. Penumbra helped me to once again find the wit in wordsmithing. This foray into classic literature name dropping reminds me of Jasper Fford’s Thursday Next series, which is a delight in how it metafictionally pokes fun at how serious we tend to take our literature. Robin Sloan not only lovingly jabs at academia, he embraces our wanderings over to the dark side of technology via Google (those villains). Yet, bad guys (technology) aren’t so bad, once you understand them, and often they prove helpful overall because they are just misunderstood.

      Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro

      My first introduction to Ishiguro and of the three novels I read of his over the summer, this one is certainly the best in my opinion. The voice of nationalistic pride and misguided directive is so artfully penned in this memoir of a proper English butler. The bonus being how well the film adaptation captured the slow realization of how corrupted Steven’s outlook was after all.

      The Mockingbird Next Door by Marja Mills

      As a TKAM devotee I jumped on ordering Mills’s account of her time with Harper Lee faster than freckles popping out during a July heat wave. Lee has become such a recluse over the years it has been feared this national treasure will leave little behind in way of knowing who she really was. Fortunately Marja Mills went beyond her journalistic assignment and got to know Harper Lee as friend and neighbor allowing fans and readers a delightful glimpse into what Scout might have been like in the real.

      The Push Cart War by Jean Merrill

      This cannot possibly be a kids’ book! The wit is droll in delivery and its lampooning so adroit I don’t see how children could appreciate it fully. Maybe I’m only bereft in my opinion since I missed this one growing up. I think I got sidelined by Encyclopedia Brown. Just like The Phantom Tollbooth or Alice in Wonderland is not strictly for children, neither is Merrill’s classic. I’m ever so glad I found it and I made up for lost time.

      The_Pushcart_War_-_cover_image_1964

      image: Wikipedia

      One Whole and Perfect Day by Judith Clarke. A Printz Honor Award
      YA reads are hit and miss for me. There tend to be riveting and noteworthy like Hunger Games and Divergent or fall into high school drama–been there done that and see it everyday. Now and then I do get to pick up a YA which should be in what I call the YA+ category, meaning it’s more towards literary then temporal contemporary (I think it has lasting merit, not trendy, and an adult shouldn’t be embarrassed reading it). Clarke’s novel concerning a girl’s desire to have one day where her family is not dysfunctional fills that YA+ bill. Set in Australia, Lily does indeed have an odd family and what is even more odd is Clarke’s approach to the Point of View–it’s omnipotent, which has fallen out of favor. With almost Dickensian flair for characters and situations, Clarke provides a plot that slowly builds to the becoming a whole and perfect story–pretty nearly.

      What’s really the wonder of these summer reads is that they were all recommends found on blogs I perused. Following other Book Boosters definitely has its benefits and I no longer have to forlornly drift the stacks hoping to uncover the newest hot read or find a lost treasure.

      How about you?  Any really good reads found and savored over the summer?  Any great recommends discovered while catching up on your blogs?

      Posted in Books, Literature, Reading, Reflections, reviews, summer, Teachers, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , , , ,
      06 Jul 2014
      11 Comments

      Road Trip Reflections


      It’s been about a week since I’ve been back from my Road Trip. Along the way I jotted notes and here’s what I came up with:


      Reader Board: “without ice cream all would be darkness and chaos”

      Rest stop bathroom poster: “no one should force you to work”–immigrant worker rights poster

      Parking lot: one legged-seagull and a choir of grackles.

      Dairy Queen: girl to grandpa–“how do they get the swirl on top of cone?”

      Wireless Connect Option:
      Drunkengiantgrogshop; dishonestdon–what neighborhood have I stopped in?

      Window Shopping: seen on bib–“these fools have turned my super cape backwards.”

      Coffee Shoppe: eclectic chairs and tables, tall ceilings, bookcase of children’s books, windowed playroom with dress up clothes, chalkboard walls, train set, kitchenette hutch. A brood of children frolicking while moms and dads read, deviced, paperworked. Lovely chocolate chip cookies too.


      At the park: full out barbeques and families on a Saturday night

      Dessert

      Any guesses what this deliciousness might be? Oooh, yummers. Dark chocolate wrapped around cheesecake with raspberry crème garnish sauce. Note the in-house signature chocolates decorating the sides. Caloric penance.


      At the restaurant: a dessert so beautiful I actually took a photo


      In the parking lot: grated fern, a statement of deeper naturalism versus industrialism that Keats, Byron, or any of the Romanticist poets would have found poignant.

      Trapped Fern

      This can be viewed as either a poignant expression of nature being trapped by encroaching society or how nature finds a way to bloom amidst the trappings of industrialization. Or–isn’t that weirdly cool?


      On the highway: no way, amazing, sleek as a Woolworth counter grilled cheese sandwich on a pastel Bakelite plate, a blast from the past–an actual Greyhound bus sporting a “hundred years” sticker to boot.

      image: greyhound.com What are your memories of Greyhound?



      In the motel room: white noise box with ocean waves, complete with seagulls scree; forest dawn, crickets and birds quite charming,; rain pattering, too close to home; fan, buzzy hum. A novelty never before encountered and even available for purchase. Tried it on first night and grandkiddo, the one who needs a minimum of two-three books, some conversation, and a bit of snuggling was out within two minutes of being lulled by waves.


      Return home: a road trip is not complete without road construction delay. At one section the two lane highway is down to one lane and nobody is moving. Not no way. Not no how. Behind a little red car which is behind a huge white truck, yet from strained sneak peeks the road looks clear ahead. The MEPA is quietly muttering for  the car ahead to edge around truck. Finally it does, and like a cork popping from a bottle, traffic started flowing again. The problem? The exit ramp so full it flowed onto road. No flagger directing traffic, construction crew absolutely  clueless to havoc below on highway.

      Dinner stop: connection with youngest progeny for dinner. Roadside grazing produces guilt to eat lightly–salad bar. Yet when it’s $12.00 though all one can eat, I strive to get my  monetary satisfaction. It is possible to overdose on greenery, especially when artichoke hearts and curried chicken salad are involved.

      Rolling in late to home some 6 hours later than the Google Maps prediction: truly there is no place like home

       

      Posted in America, children, Family, Reflections, summer, travel and tagged , , , , , ,

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