A New Directive, a New Direction

Cambridge, Ohio, September 30 -- Yes, I know. I was supposed to be in Lynchburg, VA tonight. Strangest thing happened though. Last night as I was lying in bed I got the strongest message -- I’ve really never experienced anything quite this directly -- that it was time to go home. The purpose of this traveling has apparently been accomplished. I always said I would know when it was time to end the wandering and go home. There was no question about this message. Go Home. Now. In fact, it was so strong that at 11:30 I got up out of bed and looked at my atlases to try and figure out what route I should take. It was clear that I should NOT go to Lynchburg, which was south and even a bit east and therefore actually out of the way of returning to Oregon/Washington.

I was still thinking I’d go through Lexington, KY, and visit Kristin and my friends, Tina and Patrick. But in the process of driving through Western Maryland and then West Virginia there were so many hills -- so many ups and downs -- I just wanted to find flatter ground. I came back up into Pennsylvania and am now in Ohio. It would have saved me time and miles if I’d just taken 70 out of Harrisburg. But I didn’t know that’s what I wanted to do. At any rate, I left the campground just before 9 a.m. and drove into this campground about 5:30, only stopping once for fuel and briefly a couple times at rest stops/information centers for maps and for Charlie to water the grass. It was a long day of steady driving.

Ohio is where my mother was born and raised. A ways north of here, actually, in northeast Ohio. I was here a couple times as a child so I can’t, for the first time in a long time, say “this is my first time in this state.” However, since I was so young, I’m not sure it really counts. The only thing I really remember is the Chicago train station when we changed trains on the way out here -- all lights and noise and hurrying.

So tomorrow I will drive through Columbus (skirting it as much as possible -- I am probably an hour east of there tonight) and on to Indianapolis, again skirting it as much as possible. Then through Iowa and Nebraska. At least they should be flat. I will pray there is no wind because those are the areas where, if it blows, there is no shelter, no safety. I have no clear idea where I will stay tomorrow. I have no idea why I feel so hell-bent on getting back to the Northwest so soon. I only know I have a very strong need to come home.

I was lucky to find a campground that has wifi -- in my motorhome no less. And electric, water and sewer. For less than anyplace I’ve stayed that isn’t part of one of my memberships. I was figuring I’d have to park in a Walmart tonight. There actually is one just down the road from here so maybe I’ll swing by in the morning to get a Walmart atlas that shows where all the stores are that allow RVs to overnight.

Charlie and I are wiped out. He’s lying on the dashboard deep in sleep. I treated myself to some of the pumpkin pie I bought yesterday and it was delicious. (Please note; it was only 1/2 of a very small -- 4 inches or so -- pie; not a full pie.) Now I will head to bed and try to get an early start tomorrow morning. Luckily this is even a pull-through site and there was room for me to leave the car hooked up so I don’t have to deal with that tomorrow morning. Just drain and unplug and I’m off.

Maybe my travelin’ days are coming to an end.

Travelin’Lady (at least for a bit longer)

From Tragedy to Abundance

Lancaster County, PA, September 29 -- After spending yesterday afternoon reviewing a painful piece of our country’s history, this morning bright and early Charlie and I headed off to find living history in the Amish country around the city of Lancaster. We managed to see a number of small towns, like Bird-in-Hand, Smoketown, Intercourse, Blue Ball, some quite by accident as it’s easy to get lost here. We stopped at the Farmer’s Market in New Holland, tried some delicious local cheese, and bought some fresh apples, a small steak for me for dinner tonight, and dog treats for Charlie. He met several Amish or Mennonite children who shyly stroked him and whispered their names to me. I tried to take pictures of some of the many buggies we saw, but I didn’t want to be too invasive so they aren’t too great. But then I came across a farm where they were using mules and just stopped and took a picture -- they were a ways away from the road so I used my telephoto lens and didn’t feel that I was being too obnoxious.

There are tons of little farm markets and places to buy quilts, furniture, antiques and homebaked goods. Since I don’t have a house, I wasn’t in the market for furniture or quilts but I did make the mistake of walking into one of the bakeries. There went the diet. Shoofly pie, homemade bread, pumpkin pie, carrot cake -- the latter two are vegetables, right? Zero Weightwatchers points? Yeah, right. I think I’ll try to freeze the Shoofly pie (it's small) and take it back to Oregon for Thanksgiving dinner. -- lookout kids!!

Again, this is beautiful country. Farms cover the rolling hills, big barns and silos dot the landscape . It’s interesting to see the horse-drawn buggies (those ponies move at a pretty good clip!) passing cell phone towers and huge John Deere combines going in the opposite direction. This is another example of the diversity we are blessed with, but also the ability to live and let live, to allow people to follow their own stars, no matter how different they may look from our own star.

The weather was perfect today -- around 73 or 74 degrees, blue skies and sunshine. Exactly what you’d want for a day wandering in the country, seeing all the harvest produce -- pumpkins and squash galore. This has to be about the perfect time to visit south-central Pennsylvania. Driving with the windows down also gives you advance warning when you are in Amish buggy territory -- slightly smelly!

So Charlie and I are back at the Mo. I will go up to the lodge and check email and post my blogs for yesterday and today. I’ll think about doing some laundry and getting things shipshape in the Mo to head out early tomorrow morning, heading for Virginia. Another step closer to back home again.

TravelinLady

Walking on Holy Ground

Gettysburg, PA, September 27 -- Today was perhaps the most moving day of all the things I’ve seen and done in my travels, and that’s saying something. It was right up there with seeing the Vietnam Memorial in Washington DC about 10 years ago. The only reason that was more moving is that it was MY generation’s war, and I knew people who died in ‘Nam and found their names on the list. Gettysburg is amazing. If you have never been there, you MUST go if you are ever near enough.

It was the bloodiest battle in the Civil War (53,000 perished -- imagine, that’s a small city!!), and was really the turning point for the Union Army. It was Lee’s first major defeat. And, of course, when the National Cemetery was dedicated here the following November, Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address became one of the most recognized speeches in American history. “Four score and seven years ago . . . .” I remember it still, having memorized it in grade school. Perhaps because it was so short and yet so poignant it became a “must” for history teachers throughout the country. I understand he was actually suffering from a mild case of Smallpox when he wrote and gave the speech. And yet his words, “We cannot dedicate, we consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it far beyond our poor powers to add or detract . . . ” You can only understand the power in those words if you have walked on these hallowed grounds, baptized by blood and consecrated with the chrism of tears.

As I walked on the paths of Little Round Top and Big Round Top, saw the woods and ridges, Devil’s Den and the Slaughter Pen, and viewed the sites of the battles, I felt as though I were walking on holy ground. It was eerie, seeing the places where so many men gave their lives. As is so often the case when looking at war, I don’t understand why. I don’t see what the loss of all these lives -- and this was just one battle -- accomplished, except to keep the Union intact, and for that I am thankful. But why did it have to start in the first place? I become more convinced that war is not the answer, that if there are holy and just wars, they are very few and far between. What is this pride thing that demands we sacrifice the lives of so many of our young people?

Last night in expectation of this visit, I rented the movie “Gettysburg,” which showed several of the more important skirmishes. It focused on General Longstreet, Lee’s “workhorse” and Col. Chamberlain of the Maine 20th (interesting that I just spent more than two weeks in Maine and saw Bowdoin College several times where he was a professor and later served as its president) and his brigade’s effort to hold Little Round Top, and Pickett’s Charge, in which thousands of Confederate soldiers died in an ill-advised and ill-fated attempt to take the center of the Union forces. It showed very good friends who were on opposing sides of the war and how they dealt with having to fight someone they loved. Not being a student of the Civil War or military history in general, these were all new to me. It was amazing to watch the film and then go and stand on the very ground where this three-day battle commenced. Many of those who fought and died there were men of deep faith and commitment, good men who might have accomplished much had they been allowed to live out their lives. They all believed they were on the side of right and that God was on their side.

Throughout the park are memorials to all the battalions and regiments and brigades that fought in this battle. Most indicate how many of their members fell during these three days; some include a list of the names. There are markers that indicate where each regiment was stationed during the battles. One monument that touched me in particular was a large bronze Celtic cross with an Irish wolfhound lying at the base, obviously mourning his master. It was a memorial for an Irish brigade from New York. Men from all walks of life died here: those whose roots went back 200 years and those who had only recently arrived on this continent, wealthy sons of planters and impoverished sharecroppers and factory workers.

This is beautiful country. It truly is -- rolling hills, large oaks and maples flanking fields of corn. At one point I heard beautiful birdsong, although I couldn’t identify the singer. It was like a lament being sung for the dead. Turkey vultures float across the fields, catching thermals. They are a grim reminder of the blood that watered this land 144 years ago. I found myself wondering how many of the trees had been here then, had witnessed the brutal fighting. The boulders and rocks surely did.

As Lincoln said in his brief speech, we must never forget those who died fighting for what they believed in: state rights and the preservation of the Union. It is important to remember that even when we disagree, we have so many more things we agree on, freedom being chief among those values. (It’s only slightly ironic that the South was fighting for the freedom to own other human beings.) Once again I feel a deep appreciation for my country, knowing that we don’t always get it right and sometimes screw it up terribly, but we are good people, with deep core values. And that is worth preserving, so maybe I can understand Lincoln’s decision to fight the attempts of seccession despite the incredibly high price paid on both sides so "that government of the people. . .by the people. . .for the people. . . shall not perish from the earth."

Getting to Gettysburg, Charlie and I drove kind of “cross country.” In the process we came through York. For all you Harley fans, that is the Harley Davidson Headquarters. And it just happened to be their annual Open House weekend. There were bikes EVERYwhere! What is it about my timing? The weekend I was planning to go to South Dakota was the Sturgis rally; this weekend in Central Pennsylvania is the HD Open House. I’m wondering if God is telling me something here -- like should I be a biker babe?? Nah, not a chance. But maybe a tattoo . . . Tomorrow we’re going in search of the Amish communities -- the Plain People -- just southeast of here.

TravelinLady

Back to the Basics

Campbelltown near Hershey, PA, September 27 -- Aaahhhh, electrity, water, sewer, wifi. What more could a girl ask for??? Charlie and I left Vermont fairly late on Tuesday morning because we had less than two hours to drive to get to my appointment in Easthampton, MA. Easthampton is the home of Smith College. I have been past or seen signs for a number of Ivy League and other prestigious private colleges in the New England area. I was visiting a school there that has a program I am very interested in enrolling in this winter. It’s the program I think I’ve mentioned in Costa Rica -- 10 weeks in Costa Rica, late Jan. to early April. It’s a big cog in the business plan I am putting together for my next big challenge. They will check on a couple things for me, including what it would take to get Charlie there and whether he could stay with me in the student housing they will have. Not sure if I really want to fly Charlie down to Costa Rica and deal with him during an intensive course of study that usually takes 6-12 months in other programs. It’s a minimum requirement of 500 hours so we’re looking at 7 days a week, most likely. But with a little time left to play on the beach there. But the other option, I guess, is leaving him with someone (I have no clue whom) for 10 weeks. That's asking a lot from everyone.

I met with the administrative team to talk about the program, ask some questions, etc., and they allowed me to park the Mo in their parking lot overnight. Problem was, there was no power, no water, and it was a fairly busy, noisy area. On top of that, it was incredibly hot and humid -- around 90 degrees in the Mo -- and Charlie was very uncomfortable. I felt so bad for him -- he just laid around and panted heavily.

So this morning when I woke up (for about the third time) at a bit past 6 (that’s 3 a.m. for you westerners!), I decided to just hook up the car and head south and west. By 7 a.m. we were on the road. It wasn’t early enough, however; the traffic into Springfield was nasty. Then I got to do it all over again in Hartford, Conn. At Hartford we left 91 and hit 84 west, following it across New York (crossing the Hudson River for the 4th time, I think) to the Scranton/Wilkes-Barre, PA, area where we took 81 south. We landed here around 2:30 or so. (My Google Map was not right . . . again. I am thinking I cannot really trust them.) Once again I played that nasty little game: find the diesel pump. I took one A exit when I should have taken the B and ended up in the Scranton airport. Nice. I finally found a place that I managed to get my rig close enough to.

This Thousand Trails only allowed me to make reservations for tonight; Friday and Saturday nights were full. But right now there is terrible thunder and lightening (why does this surprise me??) so they may have some people cancel. Otherwise, we’ll leave for Gettysburg tomorrow for a couple days at that Thousand Trails/Outdoor World preserve. I’d actually prefer to just stay put for a couple days. I am wiped out -- I feel like wire that’s been wrapped tightly around itself: lots of knots and kinks and stiff muscles.

When I stopped at the visitors information rest area just inside the border, I asked about ways to see Philadelphia without driving into the city. He offered several suggestions that I will think about. I would love to see the city but I really don’t know if I can deal with the stress. I was incredibly stressed today negotiating through all the cities with on- and off-ramps, and tons of hills. Eastern Pennsylvania (like Vermont) seems very hilly -- or else they just liked to put the freeways where all the hills are. Anyway, I’ll think about driving closer and taking a train or something.

So today I think I broke my record: We drove through part of Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, barely touched New Jersey and are now in Pennsylvania. Since Monday I’ve been in 8 states. One of these days I’ll total up all the states but I’m just too tired to do that right now. I know its been over 11,000 miles since May. I hate to think about how many gallons of diesel I’ve used. Today in Connecticut I spent the most I ever have: $3.59 a gallon, and that’s not even biodiesel. Needless to say, I didn’t buy much at that price. I probably also drove through the most large cities since I’ve started on this trip. Ugh!

However, there was beautiful foliage much of the way. I just didn’t have time to stop for photos so i'm sharing some earlier one that are typical (though inadequate) of what I saw. Now, since I am wiped out completely, I’m heading for bed. I’ll post this tomorrow.

TravelinLady

Moon Over Vermont

Ascutny, VT, September 25 -- Isn’t there a song by that name or something? There is a gorgeous full moon tonight. It is topping off the day of extreme beauty I have experienced. Charlie and I left Bar Harbor about 8 this morning and drove across Maine, into and across New Hampshire and then into Vermont. Three states in one day. I think that’s my record, so far. Well, not counting going through the tiniest part of NH a week or so ago. We actually went ALL THE WAY across it, although by Western standards that’s not saying much. Once again, the farther north and inland I went, the more beautiful the color was. And we’re still a couple weeks early, from what I understand. It was hard getting pulled over to take photos so they don’t come close to doing justice to the beauty.

The weather, too, has been gorgeous -- in the mid to high 70s, I think, although I haven’t really been checking. But I have been running my furnace at night -- it gets right down into the 40s or even 30s.

We saw lots of Moose Crossing signs, but nary a moose. Although we did see a deer by the side of the road as well as a flock of wild turkeys. (Well, I did, anyway; Charlie was sleeping or else just not paying attention! I keep telling him to watch for moose, but he ignores me.)

When I was recounting the gastronimic delights I still had ahead of me a few blogs ago, I forgot all about that yummy Vermont product: Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. Unfortunately, the RV park I’m at tonight carries Blue Bunny; apparently it’s quite a bit cheaper. Too bad! I was thinking about splurging on a Cherry Garcia Lowfat Frozen Yogurt tonight. I’ll have to make do with non-fat brownies.

While I was posting my blog in the city park in Bar Harbor yesterday a man came up and sat on my bench. After I finished with my email and blogging, I struck up a conversation, as I am wont to do, and asked him where he was from. I couldn’t believe my ears when he told me he was from Bend, Oregon. Too funny! We agreed that Oregon’s coastline is just as pretty as Maine’s, but that we wouldn’t mind coming back to this east side of the country again. If someone FORCED us to! He was heading back to Oregon today. Made me a little homesick. I’m still a few weeks out.

Mostly today’s blog is an excuse to post some pictures. But again, I apologize for the inadequacy -- they just don’t do justice!

TravelinLady

Last Full Day in Maine

Bar Harbor, ME, September 25 -- Charlie and I spent the morning exploring Acadia National Park, with the exception of Cadillac Mountain, which we checked out last night. It is very scenic and we found a few spots with some great leaf color. We stopped for lunch at Jordan Pond, which has a nice restaurant with outdoor seating. They are known for their popovers so I had to have a cappuccino with popovers and strawberry jam. I haven’t had popovers in ages. And really they aren’t that fattening, I think; mostly air and egg. Charlie behaved well and just laid under my table while I ate. Of course, I had to slip him a couple bites when I was done. So many people stopped to talk to him today and tell me what a pretty dog he is. We had one fairly long conversation with an elderly man from Kansas. We stopped off at a beautiful beach but to Charlie’s dismay it didn’t allow dogs.

When I started out on this adventure in May I had pretty vague ideas about what I wanted to do and what I thought might be the outcome. I wanted time to journey both across our country and take that deeper journey inside myself to try to find what it is I want to do with the rest of my life. I had some pieces of it -- ideas of where I might want to live, what my life might look like. I wanted some kind of assurance that whatever I do with the rest of my life is God-directed. My Pastor, Peter Byrne, SJ, suggested -- when we talked about this -- that maybe God is waiting for me to surprise Him -- to come up with my own ideas about what I would like to do to honor and serve God. I think I have found something I want to do, something that feels right. There are still lots of questions and lots to do, but having the idea is a good first step.

There are have been so many benefits for me in terms of self-awareness. I’ve been off anti-depressants since July -- first time I’ve stayed off for any amount of time since I started 7 or 8 years ago -- and I like the person I am. (Except I would like her a little better if there was a little less of her -- but I’m working on that, too.)

With regard to the exterior traveling: I have seen some incredible places. I now understand the geography of the Northeast a tad better. I have met and talked with people from around the country, and around the world, really. I have become friends with some and hope to stay in touch with these folks. I plan to stop by and visit one couple in Oklahoma on my way back to the Northwest. Have I touched any lives, made a difference for anyone? I don’t know; but I know many people have touched my life. And even more have touched Charlie. Literally. Has he made a difference? Besides to me, which goes without saying. It’s hard to tell when a friendly smile or touch can make a difference to someone. I suppose that’s something I never will know and maybe don’t need to know. It’s enough that Charlie and I MIGHT have given someone a smile or lightened a heart.

This afternoon I will drive into town and find the library and try to post to my blog. After today I probably won’t have access to the internet for a couple days, I’m guessing. I’ll spend Tuesday night somewhere in the middle of Vermont, most likely -- possibly a WalMart; who knows. Then Wednesday night I’ll be camping in the parking lot of the Massage School in Easthampton, MA. They are the folks who have an intensive (10 weeks) massage school in Costa Rica I’m considering enrolling in this winter. I want to stop by and visit with them. An alternative is a six-month school in Maui. It’s about half the price but I would have to pay for my own room and board so six months of renting a place and food in Maui would add up quickly, I’m guessing. The Maui program is approved by Washington State, so that’s a positive. But the Costa Rica school would get me going sooner -- and let’s face it, I’m no spring chicken -- starting to develop whatever property I hope to buy this winter. It’s mostly a matter of what would work best for getting licensed in Wash. and Ore. I figure God will help me sort this out if this project is something I’m supposed to be doing. Just like I’ll find the piece of property that will work best, wherever that is. I have faith that I will receive the guidance and help when I need it, if it’s meant to be. This doesn’t mean that I’ll sit back and wait for things to drop into my lap; I’ll be looking diligently and doing my research carefully.

That’s one of the joys of having wifi in the Mo as I did in Lewiston last week and have had a couple other times on this adventure. The ability to spend lots of time on-line checking on requirements, schools, etc. It’s so much harder when you have to go sit in a library or coffee house or other site. I never bring all the information I need with me. Right now I'm sitting in the park in Bar Harbor looking at the boats and enjoying the scenery.

But those are pretty minor complaints -- at least right now everything is working in the Mo, my camera and computer are working. I have reservations in Pennsylvania and Virginia that will take care of the next week of traveling. Working on Lexington. Still lots of neat places to see. Then in a month or less I’ll be back in the Northwest, ready to start on the next new challenge.

TravelinLady

Maine on Fire

Bar Harbor, ME, Sept. 23 -- Fire! That’s what the sky looked like tonight and what some of the trees looked like driving up north this morning. The farther north I came, the more color I saw. Fortunate are the birds who get to live in these trees in late September/early October. I haven’t really understood the term “”took my breath away” until I saw some of these trees. Colors you wouldn’t expect to see in nature (only on hair in Southeast Portland): everything in the color spectrum from yellow through red. Imagine all the various shades from lemon yellow to gold to copper, and mauves, apricots, eye-popping reds and scarletts and burgundies. Amazing. Actually, you can look at these sunset pictures from on top of Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park and you will get an idea of what some of these leaves look like. And this is with only SOME of the trees changed. It’s almost as if God sends these gorgeous hot colors in the fall so the folks who live here will carry a little of that warmth with them into the cold, long winters.

I pulled out of Lewiston around 9 a.m. this morning after saying goodbye to Russ and Carol. I had a bit of a tearful goodbye last night after we had dinner together. They are such a fun couple. This is a second marriage for both, but they have been married for almost 25 years. I told them seeing them together and how much they enjoy each other’s company really makes me long to find someone to share my life with again. They have traveled extensively since they married (she was 42, he 51 when they married): all over Europe and every winter to some warmer clime here in the US. They are getting ready for another trip next month, starting out in Germany and then the Czech Republic, I think.

I am in a nice enough rv park, but sadly it does NOT have wifi (they supposedly have it at the city park in town as well as the library). It’s the same price per night as the most expensive place I stay in Portland but the Portland place has free wifi, as well as 50 amp electricity instead of just 30. Besides, it’s in Portland so that’s worth alot!!

Standing on Cadillac Mountain tonight to watch the sun set I saw many couples sitting on the rocks, most snuggling together because of the cold wind. It made me think of John. If he had been with me we would have been holding onto each other to stay warm. He would probably have been the one taking the photos. I also thought about my mom. She would have loved this sunset. So thinking about them made it feel that they were here with me. I tell people I am doing this trip for John as well as for myself; and I really think I am. He always wanted to see Gettysburg so I will definitely be seeing that area for him.

Charlie and I wandered around Bar Harbor this afternoon. They actually allow dogs on their beaches and on the shore walk. Course the beaches are mostly rocky and heavily strewn with shells and mussels and other shellfish so nothing like Oregon beaches. There are some beautiful homes and “inns” here. There are also lots of funky little rental cottages -- they can’t be more than 500 square feet, if that.

Then I took Charlie back to the Mo and went out and found myself a lobster dinner. They have what they call lobster pounds here in Maine. They are very informal little places to buy lobster -- either fresh or cooked or to eat on site. Since I’d had lobster stew and a lobster roll, it was time to get out the big guns and eat a whole lobster. It was very yummy (you’re supposed to cook them in seawater for the best taste -- wonder if that works for crab too??) but also very messy. The meat is in big chunks in the claws and tail but much harder to get at in the body section. Overall it’s a bit easier to get than crabmeat. I would be hard pressed to say whether I liked Dungeness crab or Maine lobster better. Dinner included a very good coleslaw and very marginal corn on the cob (it was both overripe and overcooked). Then I had a piece of their Maine blueberry pie. All of that, plus a glass of pinot grigio for $26. Not too shabby. Okay, now that I’ve indulged in all the local food delights, I have absolutely got to start cutting calories. Charlie and I did walk quite a bit today so that’s a plus. But if I’m not careful my clothes aren’t going to fit by the time I get back to Oregon -- the smaller ones barely do now. And I still have to go through Memphis and their barbecue. Kentucky whiskey. Chocolate in Hershey, Penn. Oh my goodness!!!

So I am here for another night and then east through New Hampshire into Vermont. There should be plenty of color, although I understand the peak of leaf season is considered to be Columbus Day. That’s when the “leaf peepers” come out. That would be the tourists for my readers who think it’s some kind of insect; I’m kind of a leaf peeper, I guess. Actually, I was surprised to see all the cruise ships, of varying sizes, in Bar Harbor. I haven’t seen this many cruise ships since last time I was in Cabo. I guess you can cruise just about any place that has enough water.

Well, it’s time to pick up all the clothes that fell off their hangers when I went over the incredibly bumpy road to get here and then get myself to bed. I have a bunch of busy days ahead of me.

TravelinLady

Spending Time with The People

Lewiston, Maine, September 21 -- On Wednesday evening I shared another dinner with the Baptist Community in Auburn, which is right next to Lewiston, across the Androscoggin River. It was a traditional New England Boiled Dinner, corned beef (“pickled” by one of the church members), potatoes, cabbage, turnips, beets, carrots. Lots of hearty root vegetables. I valiantly tried to eat a turnip and didn’t succeed. Didn’t even attempt the beet, but in retrospect that might have been a better choice. Then I had to pay for the meal by speaking to the group about my travels. It actually went pretty well and I managed to speak without notes for probably 10 minutes or more, answered a few questions, and managed to pull it off without embarrassing myself. No kidding. I didn’t once swear or say anything inappropriate, I didn’t stumble over my words (too much), didn’t laugh hysterically, or just totally blank out. My brain seemed to be functioning on all cylinders. Must have been those vegetables.

Thursday we took a nice walk and then went exploring to Paris. We could have gone to Norway or Denmark or Mexico or Peru -- and I’ve already been through Lisbon -- but decided on Paris. I guess I can understand why Francis Pettygrove wanted to name that new city on the Willamette River after his hometown of Portland, Maine. Everything else in Maine is named after another city or country. (Although with more than 1/2 a million people residing there and more than 2 million in the metropolitan area, Portland, Ore., has substantially eclipsed Portland, Maine, in size. Possibly all of Maine, for that matter. Mainers like to talk about how there are so many more trees than people in Maine.) Since this area is north and west of Lewiston, you could really see more color in that area. We stopped at a little roadside place for a cup of really good chowda and a clam cake (interesting). I also splurged and had a rootbeer float.

Paris has a small museum that houses collectibles from Hannibal Hamlin, Abraham Lincoln’s first vice president. It also has the home where he was born. I have to admit I wasn’t familiar with Hannibal. It’s unfortunate that he wasn’t Lincoln’s vice president for the second term; imagine coming that close to being President. It’s likely he would have been a much better successor to Lincoln, although I guess we’ll never know since the Republicans decided Johnson would garner more votes in the re-election. Apparently Lincoln had alienated the southern voters . . . hmmmm, wonder how that happened . . . and the Republican powers decided Johnson, as a southerner, would be able to pull some of those back. Guess it worked. See how much I’m learning? Just think how much smarter I’ll be after I tour Gettysburg!

I’ve been reading The Celestine Prophesy (thanks for sharing, Steve). It has some interesting things to say about “coincidences,” and I am finding that borne out in my travels. I have had some very deep conversations with people about their lives, my life, and things that we’ve learned. More and more I am convinced that God is working always in our lives to send us guides. We just have to be open enough to listen to them. A lady I spoke with this afternoon related a very touching and mystical story about what happened to her after her husband died 10 years ago. He had told her to buy herself roses for her birthday if he died before her. She went to a florists shop and a woman dressed in white handed her a bouquet of roses from her husband. She asked the woman if she was an angel and the woman replied “I’m your angel for today.” She never saw the woman at that shop again. She also talked about some coincidences that led her to befriend a woman in a nursing home who had no one to visit her. Turns out the woman didn’t have Alzheimers after all and was a talented, creative person, much like her husband had been, so being with this woman is almost like being with her husband. I also had a lovely conversation with an 87-year-old woman at the Habitat fundraiser this morning who recently got a new pacemaker and has become a new woman. She also understands the importance of living your life everyday to the fullest you can.

Speaking of the fundraiser -- it was a golf tournament to support Habitat for Humanity for Androscoggin County. I helped sell raffle tickets, mulligans and “birdie” strings. We made over $800 just on these items and everyone was amazed (there were 72 participants in the tourney so an average of more than $11 apiece). Maybe I’ve missed my calling. Naw, sales is not something I’d ever want to rely on and I’ve done my stint with fundraising. But they gave me a golden hammer pin (see the top photo) and made me an honorary member of the Androscoggin Habitat for Humanity community in thanks. They didn’t need to do that -- I also got coffee and a donut. That would have been enough. Plus, my hosts tell me I can probably write off my mileage as a charitable donation -- all the way from Portland (Ore.) and back. That would mean pretty much writing off all my diesel costs. That would be soooo cooool! Plus, I’ve made some really great friends and met some wonderful people and seen some beautiful country. I win!!

TravelinLady

More Beauty to Share

Lewiston, Maine September 19 -- I finally got a few hours in helping with the Habitat house. They had me working on the vinyl siding -- finishing up the top pieces and the small section at the gable. Lots of measuring and cutting the siding pieces with tin snips, a little nailing. This afternoon I will help put together packets for Friday’s fundraising golf tourney and will help with the tournament on Friday.

When I got back from working on the building a little after noon, I took Charlie for a walk down to the pond. He enjoyed wading and swimming and fetching sticks. He has actually learned to like swimming on this trip. Before he would only go out as far as he could still touch bottom. Now he just swims out there. Some guy came by while we were down at the pond and had a female golden a couple years younger than Charlie. So Lucy and Charlie played and swam and chased sticks together for awhile.

It got down to 36 degrees Monday night -- quite chilly. But the days have been beautiful. Every day there’s just a little more color. I feel like I’m watching a pot waiting for it to boil: it seems to take forever. But I can see it’s getting closer each day to full color. Probably helped along some by those cold nights!

Last night I joined Carol at her ladies’ meeting for their American Baptist Church community. They all seemed like very nice, friendly, fun ladies, but also very deep in their faith. We had salads and desserts and, of course, everything was great. I’ve had more than one person tell me Baptists like to eat. Tonight I think I am the main course -- that is, they are having a service/gathering tonight and have asked me to talk to them about what I am doing. That should be interesting, since I really don’t have a clue most of the time what I’m doing!! Hopefully I won’t embarrass Oregon and our own parish community too badly.

It is so interesting to get to know other Christian faith communities a little better. We all have so many things in common; far more in common than different, when it comes down to the important things.

Yesterday we went into town for errands and grocery shopping. On the way we stopped at the Basilica of Sts. Peter and Paul. This impressive and beautiful Gothic style church has two 168-foot towers stabbing into the clear Maine sky. Inside granite columns soar a hundred feet to an immense barrel-vaulted ceiling hanging over a nearly 300-foot-long center aisle. Jewel-toned stained-glass windows sparkle in the sun and throw beautiful colors across oak pews that can seat up to 2,200 worshipers. But it’s when you turn around and walk back towards the oak entry doors that you see something that takes your breath away: a gorgeous rose window that was modeled after the one in the cathedral at Chartres.

“Saints Peter and Paul was constructed in this century, actually during the hardest years of the Depression. Although it had been planned for three decades, and funds for it slowly set aside, it was not until the dark times during the thirties that the parishioners made the final push to build it, holding bake sales, ball games, and practically every other community event possible to raise money. In this parish of shoe-factory and textile-mill workers, there was no great benefactors available. And so the $800,000 it took to build this cathedral was raised literally nickel by nickel, dime by dime.” (From an article in Down East Magazine by Ellen MacDonald Ward) They have Masses in French as well as English, because of the strong French influence since this mill town was founded on the labor of Canadian workers from Quebec.

Last night in talking to my daughter I learned that one of her friends whom I like very much has moved to Kentucky and is completing her PhD at UK in Lexington. So there’s another good reason to go through Lexington on my way back: to see Tina. Charlie will be happy to see her; he always liked her alot and hasn’t seen her in ages. I may try to make it back to the Northwest by Oct. 27 as my high school class is having a gathering -- 39 years. Can’t believe it’s been that long. I would love to see my old friends again. So I’ll see if I can work it out to be in Seattle by the 27th. I have to admit, it’s been an interesting and challenging trip so far, and I’ve seen great beauty everywhere: in nature and in the people. But I am very glad to be heading west in a few more days. I miss my people!!!

TravelinLady

Fahthah Up and Fahthah In

Lewiston, Maine, Sept. 17 -- Charlie and I headed north and inland and arrived in Lewiston Sunday afternoon. Our new friends from Illinois (Jonathan and Debbie and Tom Smythe) called me after I got back from Mass (yeah! I finally managed to be in a town with a Catholic Church on a Sunday morning) and invited me to meet them for early lunch before I left. They will be staying at that RV preserve another week, then head for New Brunswick, I think, before returning south to Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park, where I hope to visit early next week.

My hosts, Russ and Carol Burbank are great people. Carol is a retired teacher and Russ has many years of writing/editing/publishing experience, including writing for the Boston Globe at one point and working for the Massachusetts Department of Education and the Teachers’ Association in Massachusetts, among other things. They have done Habitat builds in a number of places, and Russ is on the Board of Habitat for Androscoggin County. Carol and I drove over to the house this morning and they had so many Voc. Ed. students working they didn’t have anything for us to do. We’ll check with them tomorrow. Regardless, I will help with a fundraising event they are doing on Friday, a golf tournament. So I don’t know how much hands-on building I’ll be involved with. But in the meantime I’m getting to know some really nice folks.

Since they didn’t need my help today, Carol and I drove to Freeport. Freeport, Maine -- ring any bells you outdoorspeople? LL Bean has their headquarters there. We stopped at the outlet store first and I bought a couple things (Christmas IS coming) and then we went to the regular store. What a great variety of great things!! Dang, I HAD to buy some more stuff.

On the way to Freeport, Carol directed me to one of the peninsula/island areas of this part of the coast -- Casco Bay. It was beautiful, and a gorgeous day. Again, I’m only including a few photos of many nice ones. We stopped for lunch at a beautiful spot and I had a lobster roll -- which is chunks of lobster on a hoagie roll, another of the local specialties.

This area is a little wilder than the south coast. Russ and Carol’s home is on a hill and looks down onto “no name pond” (that is the honest-to-goodness name of it). Apparently here a pond is anything that is less than a certain depth (though I don’t know what that is). To me this looks like a lake. It’s certainly large enough in circumference. Remember that movie with Kate Hepburn and Jane Fonda and Henry Fonda -- “On Golden Pond?” Same kind of pond. Behind their house is woods. Last night as Charlie and I were trying to sleep -- actually Charlie wasn’t having any problems, it was just me -- I heard what was either a loon or a wolf. Not sure which, never having heard a wolf. But they do have them -- and moose -- in these parts. This morning I took Charlie on a walk in the woods and kept hearing what sounded like something large stepping on branches. I was watching for mad moose or cougar (I don’t know if they have them here) or wolves or other scary critters.

I am SOOOO proud of myself. I finally got into the modern age and set up an iTunes account and downloaded that Dan Fogelberg song I've been humming all week, The Reach, that talks about lobstering in Maine. I'm listening to it right now as I look at some of my pictures. Cool!!

Back to Sunday morning. So I went to this church, St. Mary’s, that the folks I met in the bar last Monday night recommended. Their pastor did a great job with his homily on the Prodigal Son. He’s a big white haired, red-faced Irishman. Murphy, by name. It seemed like a nice, newer church but apparently they are combining their parish and the parish in Kennebunkport, St. Mary’s and St. Martha’s. I thought that was kind of funny -- the two sisters coming together to be one. Not enough priests, not enough parishioners, I guess. I was surprised they didn’t do the cup for communion. Before Mass I had chatted with the woman next to me and told her I was from Oregon. She has a son in California. At the end of Mass she asked me to pray for her because she has a brain tumor. I gave her a hug and told her about my friend in Portland who’d had surgery a couple of times for a brain tumor and is now well. I told her I expect to see her there at Mass next time I’m in Maine. I don’t think I’ll be back there for Mass but she probably will be.

I came home and -- since I had a little makeup on for the first time in ages, and looked halfway decent -- decided to try taking some self-portraits with my digital. I thought they turned out pretty good until I looked at them blown up. My GOODNESS! I’m getting old and wrinkled and saggy, Whimper, whimper. Reality check here!! Maybe I just try to ignore it when I see myself in the mirror -- I’m really not ready to look old, but I guess that’s what happens when all of a sudden you become -- gulp!!! -- 57. Not ready for that, either. But as they say, it beats the alternative.

It is already getting cold here -- down to the mid-30s last night. Brrrr. Thank heavens I have a heater. But one of the things that kept me awake last night is worrying about whether I have enough propane to last the week. It will get very chilly if I run out and can’t run the furnace. Just something more to let God worry about, I guess.

Oh yes, I talked to my younger sis about my business idea and she liked it so I may have at least one partner (not counting Charlie). The more the merrier.

TravelinLady

A Romance for the less-than-perfect

Following is the result of sitting home alone on a Friday night and letting my mind wander down strange paths. Enjoy at your own risk! The photos seemed appropriate: maybe my best hours (and years) are behind me, but I don't think so; my own darling Prince Charlie, and my single sister and her single sister (me) paddling our own canoe, or looking for love in all the wrong places? The wilds of Minnesota??!! -- travelinlady

Okay, I’m getting tired of these romance stories that always have a ravishing beauty and a drop-dead-gorgeous hunk with buns of steel. Some of us women -- sadly, most of us -- don’t have lucious lips and thick, curly red hair, a complexion like porcelein and eyes that would make a deer envious. Most of us aren’t 5’7” with tiny waist, flat abs and long, slender stems. Actually I only know one woman who fills that description, and she got married this summer. Too bad, fellas!! Most men I know have a bit of a belly or at least love handles; or else they’re just plain skinny. They don’t have a body like an inverted pyramid: broad shoulders and small waist and butt; most are more circular in shape. When they have a day or two of beard-growth, it’s looks slovenly, not sexy. They have thinning hair, not the thick, luxurious stuff of these romance novels (and, I might add, most cartoon heros).

What about writing a romance novel about real people? People like you and me -- not Mr. Atlas meets the fashion model who wears an E-cup bra. What about a divorced mid-forties woman who weighs 20 pounds more than she should, and carries it in all the wrong places? Is there no hope for those of us in our 50s who have to color our hair every month and resort to more and more expensive treatments to keep some semblance of beauty? What about a love story about a woman who has to pull out her reading glasses and perch them on the end of her nose to read the menu in a dark, romantic restaurant? That’s assuming she’s actually found a man who is willing to take her out to a restaurant. Then she whips out the reading glasses and . . . how romantic is that?! Or what about our old friend (emphasis on “old”) from the television ads and spam e-mails, Mr. Erectile Dysfunction. That’s a good way to ruin a romantic evening.

Now I admit I haven’t read all that many romance novels -- and then only when I’m desperate for insipid silliness where two perfect people meet and, after some very contrived situations resulting in them absolutely detesting each other, discover they are actually madly in love with each other. And even confirmed bachelors or career women find they can’t live without this wonderful person. They marry and, of course, live happily ever after. Give me a break!!

Honestly, if only beautiful people are fated to meet and fall in love -- as described in the romance novels I’ve read -- then you’d think that only beautiful, perfect people would marry and have beautiful, perfect children and we’d ALL be gorgeous!! Lucky for those of us with less than perfect parents, the more common people sometimes get a break and find love. But if you’re a 45-year-old man with a paunch and thinning hair, don’t expect you’re going to find a 30-year-old beauty who falls madly in love with you, unless you’re richer than Bill Gates. And even then she’d be in love with your money, not you, Bubba!

It intrigues me that the women who read romance novels are usually somewhat over-the-hill and most aren’t looking for love anyway. Maybe they just enjoy these fairytales for grownups. And some ARE mildly entertaining. I picked one up at a paperback exchange the other day by Janet Evanovich because I have enjoyed some of her other books. Her romance stories are cute and irreverent and funny. They’re not a bad way to waste a few hours. But they, like most of the genre, have absolutely nothing to do with love. Or reality.

So is there hope for romance for those of us who, for whatever reasons, find ourselves single in our 40s, 50s or, God forbid, even older? Speaking from my own limited experience in this area as a woman with decent looks and endowments, wit, intelligence, personality, talents, humility and even some financial resources, I would say . . . not so much. What’s really sad about that is there are so many men and women looking for love, for a life partner, for someone to make those lonely hours in the rocking chair go by more amiably. Just look at any on-line dating service. There are all kinds of programs out there that try to help people meet a prospective match and find love. I’m sure many people meet as a result of these programs, which can be quite costly -- attesting to the importance we place on having someone special in our lives. But I wonder how many of us really end up finding our perfect match, our soul mate?

Maybe that’s because we’ve set our sights on something unrealistic. We’re just not willing to settle for anyone less than perfect. We all think we’re the exception to the rule that says perfection attracts perfection. We hope that beautiful man (or woman) will see something so special in us that they will cheerfully overlook a few extra pounds, a few wrinkles, sagging muscles. Don’t think it’s gonna happen, brothers and sisters . . . sorry to disappoint you.

So are we fated to live without romance? Course not . . . we can always read those ridiculous books and live vicariously. Or you can try my solution: get a dog. They love you always, no matter how fat you get. They never talk back or disagree or argue with you, they never think they can do anything better than you. They think you are the smartest, most wonderful person on earth. Especially when you have food. Besides, they’re a pretty good way of getting a second look from that cute guy or gal, even if all they’re interested in is your dog. It could lead to more . . . but then you’d always wonder if they love your dog more than you.

The Maine Thing

Cape Elizabeth, Maine -- Charlie and I went exploring today, mostly trying to find a place where he could go on the beach. We didn’t succeed, though we had a couple people recommend really nice beaches. He just wasn’t allowed on them. I guess there’s an issue with the plovers here, too. (One of the pictures has some plovers, I'm pretty sure; don't know if they're the little troublemakers or not.) Tomorrow many of the beaches once again become legal for dogs; of course, we’re heading inland on Sunday and it’s probably going to rain again tomorrow.

One of the places we stumbled upon was the Portland Head Lighthouse. It was a gorgeous day and I got some pretty nice shots, but I’ll only share one with you for now. We also watched a couple lobstermen bring in their pots. Fishing has been good, they say, but they were bringing their pots in for the season.

Being here has reminded me of a song I love on an album by Dan Foggleberg. It’s called The Reach and it talks about lobster fishing in Maine. “It’s Maine and it’s autumn, the birches have all begun turning . . . “ I have always thought it was beautiful, and now here I am, living it. Sort of. I would like to find that album on cd -- or maybe I should get into the iTunes thing and download it. That would be a new experience for me.

I have to say, to all your Portlanders, it is no bad thing to have been named after Portland, Maine. I haven't actually been there, but from what I have seen from a distance, it is a beautiful setting. I'm just glad we don't get their winters!!

Charlie and I shared a fire and nice conversation last night with Jonathan and Debbie. It is good to find friends along the way. We also had a conversation at one of the coves we visited with three young girls and their mothers (Megan, Mollie and Maureen . . . do you think there are some Irish up here?). The girls were around 4. As always, Charlie was the goodwill ambassador. It continues to amaze me how friendly people can be if you have a dog and they love dogs -- especially golden retrievers. There’s just something about them that invites adulation and petting and conversation with their owners. I'll be walking along with Charlie and some strange man will say "hello, gorgeous." Or something very much like that. I'm smart enough to know he's talking to Charlie and not me. But it's okay; I admit he's better looking than me. Sweeter too, for that matter. However, if anyone tells me he smells better I'm going to be terribly insulted!!

Tomorrow I will try to get some laundry done, since it is supposed to rain. Tonight -- I’m not sure what kind of mischief I can find to get into.

TravelinLady