Chronicles Continued

Cleaning out years of papers and came upon the following quote by Antoine de Saint-Exupery
“If you want to build a ship
don’t ask people to collect wood and don’t assign tasks or work
Rather
teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea.”
Must have saved it as I thought it was applicable to parenting!

Such a wonderful time in the City with T & C who came to binge on Broadway shows.  It is so true, everyone comes to New York and I love when we have time to spend together.  These long friendships are so jam-packed with history/memories/stories and caring.  They ! are the best.  While there, saw Glenda Jackson on stage.  What a career that woman has had.  Stayed with the ‘nuns’ – a centrally located Catholic Guesthouse which allowed me to walk/subway’ move about the City with ease.  And the other best part?  No Snow!  not on the ground, in the air or anywhere.  It was a perfect break.  Made it back to the hills before the next bout of snow began to fall.

When I watch someone as they are walking or getting on the subway, holding an inexpensive cup of coffee, I notice they hold the cup with two fingers on the lid.
If it is a pricey cup of java, they hold it around the cup itself, no fingers on the lid.

During the winter, flying in and out of airports in the northern states, one sees people on their way to southern climes. However, though they are beginning their trip in winter temperatures, they have not thought this through as in the airport they are wearing flip-flop shoes, tee shirts and shorts. All is well and good until their flight is changed or cancelled, and they must leave the 72 degrees of the terminal, head outside to wait to board the bus to a hotel. No outer clothes, coats, hats, gloves, boots; they are utterly defenseless. Next time dress for where you are, not for where you are going. In the trunk of my car I carry a pair of winter boots, gloves, and wear a coat and scarf, leaving room in my luggage to pack away what I can discard along the way.

Now that I’m a driver again…
it has proven true: if you want to switch lanes in thick traffic check your review mirror until you see an expensive car approaching from behind; then switch.
These car drivers are much less likely to want to have a scratch on their paint; they let you in.

A storm was forecast and I believed that it would happen, but I did not think it all the way through. Driving back from the City on Thursday, after a wonderful visit with A who came from afar to care for her Nannkids, I listened to the radio. All along the way the news forecast a fierce snow storm to blow in Friday. Upon arriving home, I saw that a fir tree had fallen over. The house had been de-frocked by me, prior to leaving for the City. The owner is wanting to put it on the market for sale, and asked that I leave the house to her and her real estate agent to photograph. As I had no idea what photos they would be taking but assuming that the photos will be published, I did not want art work, electronics or other defining items to be in the pictures. It took quite a while to re-stage it. After arriving on Friday, I began putting the interior back. Being tired, I went to bed early with the idea of awakening around 1 am to continue, prior to the storm’s coming. I did figure that With the storm could come the loss of electricity. So, Up at one, worked all morning; made stew, ginger tea and other things I wanted to have should the weather really be as awful as predicted. It was.
In the beginning, which was not until around 11 am, it was beautiful. Big, fluffy snow flakes, that never stopped falling. However, as they fell, apparently they took the electric lines somewhere with them. The power went out.
I had boiled water, made a hot water bottle, cooked, vacuumed, set out candles, stacked wood by the fireplace but did not imagine what 47 degrees would actually feel like. As the night wore on, I slept fitfully by the fire in order to keep it fed with wood. It truly is darkest before dawn. But n the darkness I saw blinking lights. A large snow plow with emergency lights was plowing the long drives of two neighbors across the valley. It was a reassuring sight. It was not until I went outside at nine to shovel through the 14 inches of snow toward the shed where my car is parked that I saw he had cleared my drive as well. I had such a welling of joy; I was not completely cut off from the outside world. All I had to do was shovel away the snow in front of the doors.
As a child, long before I could drive, I remember my father telling my older siblings things about cars. One was, always gas up the car before a big storm. I don’t know the reason he gave on why one should do this. However I know it wasn’t so that I could charge my phone. What a gift that was. I had switched out the land line in the house to an old-fashioned cord phone, but my communication with my landlord and neighbors is by text. During the night, I set my phone to airplane mode to conserve the battery, not knowing if I would get to my car.
During the night, it had only taken a second to learn not to flip the switch for lights when entering a room. The flickering flame of the lighted candles made me feel warmer although they did not add any heat.
After the dawn, I spent the day hauling wood, shoveling, washing dishes in cold water, heating my stew in the fireplace, making tea the same way. According to my nearest neighbor, the electric was expected to be fixed on Monday, 12 am. By now I am wearing, two sweaters, Russian boiled-felt boots, a coat, two pairs of gloves, hat and scarf while sitting in the same room as the fireplace.
The day was turning to night when the neighbor texted that the electric come-on had been updated by 24 hours. At that very moment, 27 hours later, the lights above the mantel which I had switched on for a signal, flicked on. A moment later, the furnace kicked. I headed immediately to the basement to watch the sump pump in action, as it had been 9 inches from flooding the floor. A huge feeling of relief washed over me as the warmth began to penetrate. Not a fun experience.

It worked.

This is hopefully a new day. You see, when I moved to the Country, there were comments that Chronicles of the City was no longer appropriate. I agreed. However, to get a new continuation, a new masthead, not lose the 1300+ posts already written and move forward was no simple matter. There is the new name, the domain company, the hosting company, the writing platform company and to top it all off of course, the passwords to gain access to all of those. I have this wonderful, smart-go-to-nephew upon whom I cast all things related to the above. When he realizes I don’t know the answers then he finds a way to help me discover them. The last link in the chain was to get the Chronicles Continued.com to go out with this old bridge over the Delaware River. This one is the tell. What will be in the inbox tomorrow!!

In the wine store, another one [more research], was checking out and the clerk, regardless of looks, ask for one’s birthday or DL.  I do not believe this is their business.  And at my age. I am clearly not 21.  So just as I do with social media. I have a fictitious b-date that I can consistently remember that I use, and I tossed that out, while unloading my cart.  Suddenly, the person before me, who had just completed his check out, turns to me and says, in a rather loud voice “You don’t look that old!”  Stunned i didn’t know how to react.  This social date is already a few years younger than the actual one.  I wanted to follow him home, but he left before I checked out.

What I don’t know is greater than what I do know, but some of my select knowledge is sound.  I actually spend time and money on my education.  You can imagine the hardship.  Last Fall I discovered a wine from the Languedoc region.  It is so good and at such an amazing price point, that I don’t share the information.  There is a wine store in Albany that stocks it and ships.  But this winter I decided it would be good to find a local wine store that would stock it.  Through random selection based on another wine for which I was searching, I found a ‘local’ store.  I asked the owner if he could order this 2009 wine.  He hemmed and hawed and said he’d have to order 3.5 cases to meet the price point I want.  I said 3 was a bit much, but I’d sit on it.  Decided to go with a case, which he then said was incentive for him to order it.  In the meantime I bought a couple of his suggestions and discovered he and I don’t have the same palate at all.  I don’t believe in the rating system – sort of wines for dummies and believe terroir is what makes a great wine.  Was concerned that he was not going to like his 2.5 cases of my choice. So, not certain what to expect, went to pick up the case yesterday.  When I entered his store, I saw ‘John’ was grinning from ear to ear; he said he could not wait to tell me.  The previous night he had his monthly wine tasting.  He had 6 wines to showcase.  He began with the 2009 from Languedoc.  He said within 30 minutes he had sold the 2.5 cases and he had to restrain his assistant from breaking open the one he was holding for me.  He was beside himself with glee; it made him look like a hero to his ‘club’. [He used to sell wine, but he is heavy on liquor – given his location and his wine knowledge is thin, he was a salesman pushing not recommending].  He is apparently interested in all the help he can get.  So now he has ordered 6 more cases of the wine

and I’m quietly feeding him information about other varietals that he doesn’t know.  This could be great fun!