Monthly Archives: April 2021

Escaping to the South

[Susquehanna River. Source is Mine]

The AMTRAK Car/Sleep train sped south at about 110 mph, the deepening southern landscape getting darker. Despite the intermittent snow, rain and spectacular weather we had survived up north, we then put up with 11 barking hot days in Florida. We have become ‘snow birds’…How could anyone live in such hostility.

The train had no WiFi. All we had was each other and the data on our phones. We were in the last car of a train that was a least 20 miles long. The rocking and rolling and swaying made reading impossible. But at least we had a private bath.

Those that flee the harsh weather, snow to be shoveled and the challenge of winter have to be younger to survive the trip. We were traveling at the speed of sound. This is an exaggeration of course, it had not been broken at all.

[The Future of Florida? Common mode of transportation.]

Back To The Beach

I’m sitting at the dining room table in our house in Fort Meyers, FL. It’s probably 90 something outside. We were here before, about two streets over, back in November, 2014 to January 1, 20015. We were pulling a small RV back in those days. This time we own a small cottage which will be used to escape the brutal winters of the Adirondacks. Not much has changed here. The WiFi still is not strong but the pool is refreshingly warm (I don’t do cold water).

I admit that those winters drove us away. If you’re one of my many friends from FB, I agree. I should have moved south years ago. We took the car/train from Washington, DC to Orlando. It cut hundreds of miles off our driving time. Each hour that ticked towards darkness, swallowed us further into the heart of the south.

[The south drifts by at sundown.]

We got a good price for this place and the past several days we’ve Walmarted and Costcoed our own imprint into the place. All the posters of sand dollars and conch shells, Flamingos and periwinkle shells were everywhere.

Now we’re going to put our own shell posters and shadow boxes with shells wherever we choose.

And here is something I haven’t said in several years:

“Mariam, let’s go swimming.”

Nearly There

The purpose of this short but sweet blog is two-fold. The first is to let you know that we are on our way to our house in Fort Meyers, Florida. It was just as the snow was nearly melted at Rainbow Lake when we decided to see what it was that we bought. It’s going to be hot and it’s going to be humid, much like we needed it.

The flowers shown above are from the rear of the parking lot behind Starbucks which is located just beyond the car lot at our Marriott Residence Inn. I thought you’d like to see the colors unlike the small patch of green outside our lot at the Residence in Scranton.

We’re taking the car/train from Lorton, VA to Orlando.

The tree colors are better than snow and patches of green.

The second reason for this blog is to try out my new iPad. This my first blog attempt at this…while the fish bakes.

Reunion

[Source: Egan Family Archives.]

I’m working on my family tree using Ancestry.com. As my son has said: “It’s addictive.”

When my father passed away in 2004, there were boxes of old photographs. Many. of course, were unlabeled. My father would dig this photo out of wherever he stored it and name almost 75% of those in the picture. If you haven’t found him yet, my father (aged 12) is the third boy from the left, bottom row. My grandparents are the last couple on the right, back row.

The rest of those sitting or standing at an unknown farm in Orange, PA. are strangers to me, yet connected to me by blood or marriage.

How I wish I was there that day sitting among four (my best guess) generations of Egans, Hotchko’s and Berlews. I would pepper the old timers with question about a world I would never know. (A word of advice: always label any and all old photos.)

Yes, it’s sad to say that it’s likely that all those in the photograph are gone from us. But each had a story about themselves…each had a memory of someone else in the picture.

And each grain of memory has, through some mystery…filtered through time to make me who I am.