A Game of Dominoes.....

Just how far would you travel to play a game of dominoes? We've enjoyed games in a sailboat's cockpit in the Virgin Islands, at our dining room table in Bay View and now in an RV in Lake Geneva.

Dominoes is one of those games (even though the rules seem to change a bit every time you read them) that allows you to talk and laugh while you play. It's a friendly game that lets you develop a friendship as you play.

We've recently met a couple that we seem to "connect" with - on several levels. They are rather new to the area, as are we, they have a nice RV for travel so we share that explore-it gene as well. They like to read, seem to share our politics, and they are both just plain fun to be with.

It can be hard to make new friends as an adult. Moving means starting over and trying to connect with a few couples that you can quickly and easily call to meet for a movie, or a quick meal, or a game of dominoes. And to find a couple where both the wives and the husbands seem to "click" can be even harder to do.

So happily we drove to Lake Geneva for a one-night RV trip. Threw a few things in the refrigerator, packed one change of clothing, Fenway's "stuff", our pillows and off we went. All for a fun meal sitting around a picnic table, a rousing game of dominoes and a delicious shared breakfast. It wasn't too far to go to spend time with friends.

So glad we "found" them!

Ready For This….

We were watching TV last night and there was a cute Mazda commercial during the middle of our show. A young couple driving home from the hospital. They were bringing home their new baby. All ready, with new car seat, a beautiful safe car….the new mom in the back seat trying to comfort a crying newborn and new dad driving with a look of semi-panic on his face.

The annoucer in the background saying something like "You're ready for this"……it was a nice ad. 

But as I watched it I had to think back to our own experience as new parents - so many years ago. And I couldn't help but think "You are never ready for this!" Starting out with a new baby you have no clue.

But you do your best, you love your baby, you make mistakes….but mostly you do it right. And babies grow and adapt and live through any of your "mistakes.

Nope - no one is "ready for this" and you don't get to practice. But thankfully things usually turn out OK!

Here They Come…..There They Go….

It's that time of year again, fall is approaching. Leaves are beginning to turn and monarch butterflies are migrating south. I see them swooping along — coming from the north/northeast, heading west/southwest. Amazing, fragile, beautiful creatures….but also strong enough to get all the way to Mexico for the winter.

I remember sailing on the Chesapeake at this time of year and some weekends we'd be lucky to see dozens or more as they crossed the water. Occasionally one or two would stop and rest on Connemara, perching on a side rail or the sail cover or in the cockpit. They would sit for a little while, slowly opening and closing their wings and then set off again. 

Here I see them when Fenway and I go for a walk. Or I notice a glimpse of black and orange fluttering by outside a window. I spotted one yesterday sitting on our little deck. They sometimes pause, rest on a flower bloom, gather fuel, and take off again. Driven by a migratory instinct. 

Amazing really……this generation of monarchs will make it all the way to Mexico……reproduce and then next spring we'll see the butterflies moving in the opposite direction seeking mid-west milkweed plants. 

So look up and watch for a little orange. Cheer them on…crossing state lines and finally crossing the border with Mexico. Immigrants…..the kind no one complains about.

Trying to Send Hugs….Long Distance

We've moved so often since starting our life together in 1967. Following professional opportunities for Dave took us from Wisconsin to Illinois to New Jersey to Wisconsin to Illinois to New Jersey to Delware. And at each "stop" we found special friends who meant a lot to us when we lived there….and they still do, even though we are now far apart.

Moving for an opportunity also meant leaving these special people behind….or they moved and left us behind. At this point I have friends on my mind from Alaska to Cape Cod, Delaware to Indiana to Florida. And I send mental "hugs" out many times each day. All are coping with challenges…..some to their health, some to their families…..knee replacements, cancer treatments, counseling, memory loss.

I think of them all, I send notes and cards and mental good wishes…..I send "psychic" hugs.

I hope they feel it! Love and concern stretching across the miles.

Missing you all.

Looking Up....

It happened again last night. Another sunset….another sky filled with clouds....another just "how can that be" moment!? It doesn't seem to matter how often we marvel at the beauty around us.....just when we're sure we've seen the best view ever....or the best cloud formation....or the best sunset.....it happens again. And it takes my breath away.

Exploring Michigan's Upper Peninsula we sat at the edge of Lake Superior and watched the sun set….a blaze of orange and red reflected in blue waters....and watched "corrugated cardboard" clouds march across the sky.

Why? What?

Oh who cares.......it's amazing. And we are SO fortunate to be here...seeing this.

Putting Words to Paper.....

There is someone special in my small family who has a real talent for putting words to paper. Writing, composition, editing were big parts of her profession during a very successful career so certainly she knows the rules and regulations about how to write, the mechanics of it….and she does it well.

But it is much more than that. It's not because of what she can do with a pen, or a word processor…it's not because she can gather ideas and thoughts and share them beautifully. It's mostly, I think, because of who she is. She's an observer, she's a doer, she's someone who is intimately involved with people....her friends, her family. She sees individuals, she sees what matters to them, she sees what they contribute to the community...to the world around them. She listens, she analyses......and she can sift through what is important, personal and meaningful but leave out what is not.

She cares. And maybe that's why she is so very good at standing in front of a group of friends and family at a loved ones memorial service and putting into words what others cannot. Gathering memories and accomplishments, adding personal touches, bringing a loved one to life when they are gone……telling their story. Not just the career facts but the personal remembrances that mean so much. The insights, the moments that make up a life.

It's not easy. I know it's not, but she's done it before. Years ago at a beautiful memorial for my uncle....and, more recently, through heartfelt words celebrating my mother's life. This week she will do it again. She will speak to the life and memory of her very best friend's father. Many at the service will have known this special man, meeting him at work, in the neighborhood, at a committee meeting or as a member of some organization……but it will be my sister who stands at the front of the gathering and puts together some of the personal pieces of an amazing life.

I know it will bring comfort to his loved ones. I know it won't be easy...but I know how beautifully she will speak. I've been there to hear her. And, if I die first, I hope she will feel she can speak for me.

And Then There Was High School....

Several things brought memories of high school into my brain recently. I just finished Promise Me, a novel by Harlan Coben. Dave and I've read many of his quick reads - mystery/murder types but we like the characters.

Complex story, this one, but early on the main character overhears two high school girls talking about not wanting to ride home with a friend who had too much to drink. He's connected to them in the story line, so simply gives each of them his business card and says to call him if they ever need a ride, anytime, anywhere, no questions asked. And he will not say anything to their parents. And the story evolves.

The author continues, "It doesn't matter who you are - the teenage years are hard. High school is a war zone. Myron (the narrator and main character) had been a popular kid. He was a Parade All-American basketball player, one of the top recruits in the country, and, to trot out a favorite cliche, a true scholar-athlete. If anyone should have had it easy in high school, it would be someone like Myron Bolitar. But he hadn't. In the end, no one gets out of those years unscathed. You just need to survive adolescence. That's all. Just get through it."

I read that paragraph at the start of the novel and 1960-1964 flashed back into my memory. My big high school with 4,000 students. A good school in a very nice up-scale Chicago suburb but full of the typical "groups". You belonged, or you didn't. I was shy and unsure of myself and although academically I always did well, I often felt lost and really, really did not enjoy my high school years. I thank my small circle of good friends, and my slot on the high school yearbook staff - those people and that one after-school activity "saved" me.

I went on to choose a very small college (900 students)….grew into myself, found a wonderful and lasting set of friends and my future husband and loved every minute of my four years there. (Well, maybe not every minute!)

So finishing the novel, and then hearing on yesterday's news about another 14-year-old with a gun in West Virginia. He held a teacher and her students hostage for part of the day. It just made me so sad. A young boy who obviously, for whatever reasons, was in real trouble - and he thought he could solve his unhappiness by bringing a gun to school. Thankfully the teacher and others were able to convince him that he had options and so it was a much better ending than it might have been.

In our little family we have two high school age grandsons - one a senior, and apparently he's "conquered" his high school, and another entering the same school as a freshman who I think will also do well. Two other much younger grandsons are marching along toward high school….but it will be awhile until they get there.

No doubt some of their experiences will be very good and some not-so-good. But I just hope they can wait it out….looking back so many years later you realize that those four years flash by, and actually mean very little in the bigger scheme of life. But when you're there….at that high school, the midst of teenage angst….it really can feel like a "war zone".

Magic for a Moment…..

We've spent the last three or four days living in London - or at least it doesn't seem like Port Washington. Temperatures combined with the breeze off the cooler water of Lake Michigan - fog and mist roll in for awhile and then roll out. Fascinating as things change….come and go….disappear and re-appear. The upper bluff is there somewhere, and the lake….I think.

Today Fenway and I walked up the bike path, across the stream and back through the woods. We spotted one deer, heard many familiar bird songs and enjoyed the early morning walk through the mist. The forecast says we may hit close to 90 degrees today - so we went out early.

Coming back the woods we suddenly heard something unexpected echo down from the bluff above our heads. Softly at first and then a bit louder….the sound of someone piping up on the top of the bluff. Bagpipes….a lovely serenade to accompany my walk. The piper played at least five or six different songs and then it was over.

Music brings back memories and bagpipes are associated with both some sad funereal ones for me, but also with an amazing sunset in November 2001. We were still living aboard Connemara and were peacefully anchored in Mile Hammock Bay at a spot on the Inner Coastal Waterway in NC. About a dozen boats, sheltered, peaceful, quiet. It was wine-o'clock and we were sitting in the cockpit enjoying the sunset and suddenly heard bagpipes.

Heads swiveled in every cockpit in the anchorage - there, center stage, on the foredeck of a sailboat was the piper. A man serenading all of us as the sun went down. It was a goose-bump magic moment….met with applause as it ended.

I wish I could have applauded this morning - but I was too far away. Mist, magic, bagpipes….what a terrific walk.