Category: Real Personal History
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Looking For A Proper Lane To Ramble Along: The Excursionist IV
[Me rambling in Dorset. Deep in thought.] Finding places to ramble (walk) in England is something even a guy like me can do. That is unless I’m going to wear my clean hiking boots. Who wants to track mud into our host’s home? And, it is the mud season here. I haven’t seen any snow…
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Sick In London: The Excursionist II
[The Sherlock Holmes Pub. The only real outing we’ve had.] When your forty feet from the ‘largest bookstore’ in Europe, it’s hard to get bored. But alas, the usual ‘bug’ has hit us. We took the Red Eye from JFK to London on Sunday afternoon. Thinking we were going to get some stuff done…we both…
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A Fair Swap: The Excursionist I
On Friday, February 1, Mariam and I will be exchanging this: [The Hudson River on January 26, 2018] for this: [The Yorkshire Dales, England] It’s a pretty fine change of scenery if I do say so myself. Once upon a time, back in the day, I loved winter. How could one not love winter…when you’re…
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The Ring
My left hand is ringless. The wedding band lies on a tray on the dresser in our bedroom, along with assorted jewelry. Is this the sign of a marriage gone south? Hardly. The only thing that would be going south right now is my wife and I. Because outside the wind howls and the temperature…
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For Me? It Was a Hard Days Night
[Source: Google search.] There were no classes scheduled for that Monday. It was parent/teacher conference day at Ridgefield High School in Connecticut. I was assigned to meet the parents of my students in an office close to the front entrance. I sat at the head of a large conference table made of a dark wood.…
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Like Living in a Holiday Greeting Card
[Photo is mine.] Let it snow. Let it snow. Let it snow. –Lyrics by Sammy Cahn I’ve never lived inside a greeting card before. You’d have to be really really thin, like Wiley C. Cayote after being flattened by a road paver. Never fear. My readers know that and that the title of this post…
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Bob Takes A Bow
[Source: Google search.] “I’ve got nothing more to live up to.” –Dylan This is not going to be the usual Bob Dylan fan blog. I’ve something special to relate. More on that later. I’m sitting in what is usually the warmest room in our home, the dining room. It must be the two sets of…
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Autumn And Gravestones
[Sitting and thinking at Forest Cemetery, St. Regis Falls, NY.] Now that there is six inches of fresh snow on the ground and the trees are bare and the world outside our picture window is monochromatic, I can admit that I miss the late summer, the coolness of autumn days and the color of the…
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My Father’s Books
The 1950’s & 1960’s On Sunday nights, in the house at 420 Front Street in Owego, NY, there was usually an empty chair in our living room. My mother and three older brothers would gather around an oversized wooden console that housed a Black & White TV. The Ed Sullivan Show was about to come…
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Another Time Around
[Our front deck table.] It all happened so fast. One minute, the flies fill the skies, the frogs croak down by the lake, the fan is kept on all night (a rare thing here in the North Country) and I spend my outdoor time swatting mosquitoes. Tonight, we’re told of a frost warning. The fan…
patrickjegan 