Anyway, Stephen, here are the pictures you wanted to see. I'm sorry that you couldn't be here to speed along the melting process.
Jan 9
Mar 3
Mar 7
Mar 14Here are some images of the back yard:
Mar 3
Mar 7
Mar 14Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Going, going, gone
For those of you who live in the North, this blog will probably not interest you. I am writing this for Stephen, who seems to be experiencing snow withdrawal. Not that he misses the snow.... he just wants to see it melt and watch Winter turn into Spring. Actually, I think he secretly wishes that he could be here, digging little trenches to steer the melting snow to the street and sewer. I believe the correct term for this activity is "engineering", as coined by Joan, Stephen's mother (who probably is responsible for introducing him to this activity).
Anyway, Stephen, here are the pictures you wanted to see. I'm sorry that you couldn't be here to speed along the melting process.
Jan 9
Mar 3
Mar 7
Mar 14
Mar 3
Mar 7
Mar 14
Anyway, Stephen, here are the pictures you wanted to see. I'm sorry that you couldn't be here to speed along the melting process.
Jan 9Mar 3Mar 7Mar 14Mar 3Mar 7Mar 14
Sunday, March 14, 2010
England...and Spring Maybe ?
Posted Sunday March 14th, 2010
This week the government introduced plans for a high speed rail line linking London with what they call the north, Birmingham, eventually to Scotland. While the travel will be faster, unless they figure out a way to make it cheaper, I am not sure who will take the train. It is actually quite interesting reading the plans for the high speed rail. The press points out that England "invented" rail travel, (I must Google that factoid), yet it is the last major country in Europe to have high speed rail. Of course, as soon as the government announced the plans for the rail line, and where it would go, immediately there was a reaction from everyone. As there is an election pending, the opposition critized the plan as it did not go to Heathrow. (The conservatives oppose expanding Heathrow). And as expected, every local County and Village Society for the Preservation of ___________ (fill in the blank), was up in arms as the rail line would go thru some rare gerbil habitat, old forest, historical site or cut across a 1000 year old footpath. In England it seems you cannot go 50 yards without coming across something that is historical or 1000 years old.
Cheltenham Station
I have a lot of wonderful memories of March in the Cotswolds. When the three kids were in college, I had the opportunity to bring Geoffrey, Peter and Stephanie to England during the March break of their junior year. Each trip was different and each was very special for me. While each visit started and ended with time at Susies, they all were unique and different. Looking back, perhaps now I think of traveling with them to England (and France with Peter and Stephanie) was the time I saw them as passing from childhood to adulthood. Probably because we spent a lot of time in pubs. We did a lot of sightseeing . How can anyone forget Stow on the Wold, Borton on the Water, Traitors Crossing, and of course...The Falkland Arms.
Thanks kids...I remember those trips well.
England, like Europe, has had a colder than normal winter, so I am told by Susie the flowers are later than usual. However I did manage to catch a few pictures of snowdrops and daffadils trying hard to bloom. The picture above is some Daffys on a sunny corner neat the center of Bloxom. (Most of you know Bloxom is not very big, so, yes, there is grassy areas in the "center of Bloxom".
As I was walking by the Church, I noticed the snowdrops were really spectacular, and seemingly allowed to spread without tending or trimming. Crocuses in a sunny spot below.
I was over in England this weekend. While my travel on Thursday and work day Friday were rainy, Saturday was lovely, a beautiful (almost) Spring Day. After my meetings in Cheltenham, I went to Susies for a short weekend by train. The trip to Susies was interesting. Regular readers of this blog (all 8 of you..) will recall I have driven from Cheltenham to Bloxom a few times, and it is a grand total of about 50 miles. Well, by train, it is about 2 1/2 hours. First I had to catch a train from Cheltenham to Birmingham, a hour trip north. I then waited an hour (was supposed to be 1/2 hour but this being Friday...well, lets just say my next train was 26 minutes late).The 2nd train went south east and took about 35 minutes to get to Banbury, with 4 stops in between. I really need to think thru travel modes when I come to the UK. I still have a romantic image of trains in England. I recall the trip Genya and I took on the Royal Scotsman from London to Edinburgh. It was about 5-6 hours, but I remember it as very relaxing. I think we had a table seat, just the two of us, and the lovely english countryside went by as we read, dozed, noshed on biscuits, crisps and cups of tea. That is vacation travel. Friday evening was commuter travel. Both trains were standing room only, getting into the aisle was impossible, let alone making it to the car with the snack counter. It was raining so everyone was dripping. And, my ticket was expensive, about 36 BP.
Add the 6-7 BP in both Cheltenham and Banbury for taxi and the total is over 50 pounds. I need to get more comfortable driving in this country. For what I am paying for train travel, (which I agree is way more eco friendly), I could rent a car for less, be there sooner and have a lot more freedom.
This week the government introduced plans for a high speed rail line linking London with what they call the north, Birmingham, eventually to Scotland. While the travel will be faster, unless they figure out a way to make it cheaper, I am not sure who will take the train. It is actually quite interesting reading the plans for the high speed rail. The press points out that England "invented" rail travel, (I must Google that factoid), yet it is the last major country in Europe to have high speed rail. Of course, as soon as the government announced the plans for the rail line, and where it would go, immediately there was a reaction from everyone. As there is an election pending, the opposition critized the plan as it did not go to Heathrow. (The conservatives oppose expanding Heathrow). And as expected, every local County and Village Society for the Preservation of ___________ (fill in the blank), was up in arms as the rail line would go thru some rare gerbil habitat, old forest, historical site or cut across a 1000 year old footpath. In England it seems you cannot go 50 yards without coming across something that is historical or 1000 years old.
Cheltenham Station
I have a lot of wonderful memories of March in the Cotswolds. When the three kids were in college, I had the opportunity to bring Geoffrey, Peter and Stephanie to England during the March break of their junior year. Each trip was different and each was very special for me. While each visit started and ended with time at Susies, they all were unique and different. Looking back, perhaps now I think of traveling with them to England (and France with Peter and Stephanie) was the time I saw them as passing from childhood to adulthood. Probably because we spent a lot of time in pubs. We did a lot of sightseeing . How can anyone forget Stow on the Wold, Borton on the Water, Traitors Crossing, and of course...The Falkland Arms.
Thanks kids...I remember those trips well.
As I was walking by the Church, I noticed the snowdrops were really spectacular, and seemingly allowed to spread without tending or trimming. Crocuses in a sunny spot below.
My trip back to Paris on Sunday was mostly uneventful. I had forgotten that lovely phrase "Engineering Works" In England this means we are working on the track and you may go from Banbury to London via Lands End. In my case I only had to take a bus to station about 30 miles, away. Quite pleasant actually as buses travel the roads, and you see more than one normally sees from the train.
When I got to London, the London Underground was also engaged in Engineering works. As a result, my 3 stop change from Marleybone to St. Pancras took about an hour. The PA system in the subway kept blaring announcements that served only to confuse and panic tourists. It sounded something like
"We terribly regret the inconvenience to passengers but today we are upgrading the London Underground system. Today the (unintelligible) from Paddington to (unintelligible) will be closed from 7:00 am until (unintelligible) and the Circle Line is closed from Baker Street to (unintelligible.)
I stopped to take a picture (below) of what I thought was an interesting sign in the subway. Not 3 minutes later there was an announcement over the PA System "The London Underground reminds travellers it is forbidden to use flash photography anywhere in the system" ! WOW. Big brother is watching. I am not sure why flash photography is not allowed. Are they worried the flash will fade the lovely sooty , grafitti covered 100 year old brickwork???
Today (March 14th) in England is Mothers Day, or as they sometimes call it "Mothering Sunday". In England it is the 4th Sunday in Lent. As a result, the trains were full of young, and not so young, clutching flowers, cards, pressies etc. heading to Mums for the day. Felt a little sad, as I remember my mom, and not being able to do that anymore. The picture below left is my journey today.
Well, this blog is way too long, so I will close. Thank you Susie and Mike for a wonderful, and too short weekend.
Question for fellow bloggers "What happened to Spellcheck "? I cannot find spellcheck any more. Help !
Monday, March 1, 2010
Sick and Tired...and Immigration stories
February 28, 2010
Sick and Tired
I went to Morocco and came back sick. I came back to Paris sick as a dog. I have heard the term"caught a chill" but never understood it before.... until I caught a chill in Morocco. Morocco was not warm, it was cold and wet and on my 2nd day there I got very cold at work, and could not get warm. I went back to the hotel and sat in a warm, no a hot tub of water for 1/2 an hour, and could not get warm. The next day I was sick. I came back to Paris feeling awful. Genya was in Paris for a visit, and she spent 3 days trying to nurse me back to health. (I was still dragging myself to work, then spent the weekend sleeping). Finally I realized this was not getting better and called Kohlers international health number and was told to go to the "American Hospital in Paris". Genya escorted me and waited for me, part of her vacation in Paris. She probably got postcards from the hospital gift shop :).
I was there from 9:00 am until about 2:00 pm, had x-rays, blood and multiple other tests. The Dr. must have thought I had pneumonia but it turned out to be a bronchial infection. (as predicted by Susie). I got a prescription for 2 antiobiotics, and finally in a few days I started to feel better. I was under the weather for about 10 days (the only good thing is I lost another 4 pounds). My tiredness lasted into the 2nd week, so in Kohler last week I was not a lot of fun. The experience at the American Hospital in Paris was OK, took a bit long, but in the end they got it right. I had to pay cash for everything, hopefully my insurance will re-imburse me.
Immigration
Morocco Immigration
I have been traveling internationally now for about 4 and a half years. In almost every country I go to the immigration inspection is, to be generous, prefunctory, brief and always without any conversation. (OK, Canadian Immigration sometimes hassle me, and the US usually say 'Welcome Home") Outside of english speaking countries, I stand on the yellow footmarks, I smile, I look into the the camera, I get my passport back and proceed to baggage claim...except on my last trip. In both Morocco and Spain, I had some conversation with the authorities...first Morocco.
As I was coming into Morocco, the officer asked me if I was Labanese. "No, I am Canadian". Silence. Then he asked me if my father was Lebanese. "No, my father was Canadian". Silence. Then perhaps he suggested hopefully, my mother was Lebanese (maybe my parents did not marry?). "No, my mother was Irish". Disappointed, but blocked at every turn, he admited me to the Kingdom of Morocco. No doubt still thinking that somewhere in my background is a Lebanese relative. This got me to thinking, is Inman an Lebanese name? I Googled the name. As a first name it is rare. As a last name, more common (comes from the English, Inn Keeper). In the 1990 US census it is # 1352 out of over 88,000 last names. When you Google the name all the references are English (we have a Crest, but it costs $15.00 for a PDF, so you will have to google it yourself)
http://www.houseofnames.com/xq/asp.fc/qx/inman-family-crest.htm
No where when I Google "Inman" does Lebanon come up.... Any suggestions?
Spanish Immigration
I am not even sure why I had to go thru Spanish Immigration, I was in transit returning from Morocco. However I had to go between terminals in Madrid, and ended up going thru Immigration. The two terminals in Madrid are about a mile apart, I have never seen such a disconnected airport.
I guess it is my fault. On the form they give you on the plane, when it asked for permanent residence I put down my US address. When I got to the officer, he asked me, "where do you live". Paris I said (remember, I was sick, probably sweating, bleary eyes). He looks at me and says "You said you lived in the US?". I tried to explain, but at this point he has reason to be suspicious and begins to thumb thru my passport. "Why were you in Thailand last month " he asks. "Why for only 3 days"? 'Why did you go to India, who did you meet there, did you bring back anything" I am thinking to myself, he is figuring I have been in Morocco, India, Thailand....three drug centers of the world in two weeks. I did bring back chocolate covered dried mango from Thailand, nothing from India and from Morocco only a damn cold. I do have drugs...Tylenol cold medicine However in the spirit of experienced travelers worldwide who know a mad immigration officer is a recipe for a missed flight and a full body inspection, I just smiled and shrugged. After more slow thumbing of my passport, he finally took out his stamp, stamped my passport and handed it to me with no more questions. The look in his eye seemed to say "move on", so I did.
However, the Madrid Airport is beautiful (I can almost hear my sister saying" Airport...beautiful ? Bro, get a life. Oceans are beautiful, forests are beautiful, babies are beautiful....but airports...?"). However it is bright, sunny and full of reds and yellows.
As I finished my last blog I was dreaming of Morocco, warm sun, lamb...couscous. Sorry, no stories, only one picture..
Sick and Tired
I went to Morocco and came back sick. I came back to Paris sick as a dog. I have heard the term"caught a chill" but never understood it before.... until I caught a chill in Morocco. Morocco was not warm, it was cold and wet and on my 2nd day there I got very cold at work, and could not get warm. I went back to the hotel and sat in a warm, no a hot tub of water for 1/2 an hour, and could not get warm. The next day I was sick. I came back to Paris feeling awful. Genya was in Paris for a visit, and she spent 3 days trying to nurse me back to health. (I was still dragging myself to work, then spent the weekend sleeping). Finally I realized this was not getting better and called Kohlers international health number and was told to go to the "American Hospital in Paris". Genya escorted me and waited for me, part of her vacation in Paris. She probably got postcards from the hospital gift shop :).
I was there from 9:00 am until about 2:00 pm, had x-rays, blood and multiple other tests. The Dr. must have thought I had pneumonia but it turned out to be a bronchial infection. (as predicted by Susie). I got a prescription for 2 antiobiotics, and finally in a few days I started to feel better. I was under the weather for about 10 days (the only good thing is I lost another 4 pounds). My tiredness lasted into the 2nd week, so in Kohler last week I was not a lot of fun. The experience at the American Hospital in Paris was OK, took a bit long, but in the end they got it right. I had to pay cash for everything, hopefully my insurance will re-imburse me.
Immigration
Morocco Immigration
I have been traveling internationally now for about 4 and a half years. In almost every country I go to the immigration inspection is, to be generous, prefunctory, brief and always without any conversation. (OK, Canadian Immigration sometimes hassle me, and the US usually say 'Welcome Home") Outside of english speaking countries, I stand on the yellow footmarks, I smile, I look into the the camera, I get my passport back and proceed to baggage claim...except on my last trip. In both Morocco and Spain, I had some conversation with the authorities...first Morocco.
As I was coming into Morocco, the officer asked me if I was Labanese. "No, I am Canadian". Silence. Then he asked me if my father was Lebanese. "No, my father was Canadian". Silence. Then perhaps he suggested hopefully, my mother was Lebanese (maybe my parents did not marry?). "No, my mother was Irish". Disappointed, but blocked at every turn, he admited me to the Kingdom of Morocco. No doubt still thinking that somewhere in my background is a Lebanese relative. This got me to thinking, is Inman an Lebanese name? I Googled the name. As a first name it is rare. As a last name, more common (comes from the English, Inn Keeper). In the 1990 US census it is # 1352 out of over 88,000 last names. When you Google the name all the references are English (we have a Crest, but it costs $15.00 for a PDF, so you will have to google it yourself)
http://www.houseofnames.com/xq/asp.fc/qx/inman-family-crest.htm
No where when I Google "Inman" does Lebanon come up.... Any suggestions?
Spanish Immigration
I am not even sure why I had to go thru Spanish Immigration, I was in transit returning from Morocco. However I had to go between terminals in Madrid, and ended up going thru Immigration. The two terminals in Madrid are about a mile apart, I have never seen such a disconnected airport.
I guess it is my fault. On the form they give you on the plane, when it asked for permanent residence I put down my US address. When I got to the officer, he asked me, "where do you live". Paris I said (remember, I was sick, probably sweating, bleary eyes). He looks at me and says "You said you lived in the US?". I tried to explain, but at this point he has reason to be suspicious and begins to thumb thru my passport. "Why were you in Thailand last month " he asks. "Why for only 3 days"? 'Why did you go to India, who did you meet there, did you bring back anything" I am thinking to myself, he is figuring I have been in Morocco, India, Thailand....three drug centers of the world in two weeks. I did bring back chocolate covered dried mango from Thailand, nothing from India and from Morocco only a damn cold. I do have drugs...Tylenol cold medicine However in the spirit of experienced travelers worldwide who know a mad immigration officer is a recipe for a missed flight and a full body inspection, I just smiled and shrugged. After more slow thumbing of my passport, he finally took out his stamp, stamped my passport and handed it to me with no more questions. The look in his eye seemed to say "move on", so I did.
However, the Madrid Airport is beautiful (I can almost hear my sister saying" Airport...beautiful ? Bro, get a life. Oceans are beautiful, forests are beautiful, babies are beautiful....but airports...?"). However it is bright, sunny and full of reds and yellows.
I promise my next blog will be more cheerful....
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