Yesterday I talked a wee bit about ‘nostalgia’.  You know, the tendency we have as we grow more ‘chrono-mature’ to recall people, places & events out of our past.  Not only do we recall; but we tend to bore folks with our conversations of such as if what we’re sharing happened “yesterday”!

Well another thing that tends to come our way as we move further along the ‘chrono-scale’ into the 2nd half of the journey is discussion about our health.  I don’t mean discussions on the latest medical breakthrough or anti-aging strategy.  I mean consistent conversation around our “age” (shhh, don’t tell anyone I used that word!); the conditions from which we suffer; the medications we take & this pain or that ache or common assumption that such & such normally occurs when we’re at “our age!”

I hate it!  I mean I loathe it.  Nothing is more boring or debilitating to me mentally (and emotionally I might add) than to sit and listen to how much forgetting so & so is doing or a thorough explanation of the latest pain that requires expensive care. 

And to top it all off - the conversations always end with some comment about “what can we expect at our age”!

Well, I don’t know about you, but I expect much greater things than more medication; a new ache & pain and a social calendar that includes more physician visits than time with friends.

What happens to us as we travel the journey?  As a young mom, I used to go to the neighborhood “kaffee klatz”.  You know, where moms go to have ‘adult’ conversation!  Well, the conversation was anything but stimulating.  It almost always centered on the exploits of our young children.  When I would try to steer the conversation to a discussion of the latest books everyone was reading; the optic ‘daggers’ came out & my attempts were beat back by the neighborhood ’super moms’ (I wasn’t one of them although I was adequate - I wasn’t “super”).

So I stopped going.  I stayed home with my young ones & lamented the fact that we couldn’t get together for any other reason than to bore each other with “mom talk” or “child chatter”.

Well, it’s happening again!  With women I’ve enjoyed being with for years (since high school actually).  Intelligent women who are physically active to the point that more than one of us still “works” (you know - outside the home).  I love getting together over breakfast & sharing ‘adult’ things.

But recently, the tone of talk has changed!  More time is spent discussing how we manage all the pills we must take, or the latest health challenge one or the other is engaged in.  Gone are the discussions of world affairs; the latest great read; matters of the Spirit, etc. 

Well, it’s depressing!  At least it is for me.  First of all, (and thank God) I don’t have much to add to the conversation except to say that I’m not great at remembering to take my hypertension pill daily.  But then I wasn’t good taking any pill daily no matter my ‘chrono-maturity’ level. 

I don’t have any aches or pains to speak of (again thank God) and I don’t hang out with ’sick’ folk so I can’t share who I know who is weathering a major health crisis at the moment.

What’s really sad about the whole thing is that these are my only l-o-n-g term women friends whose company I thoroughly enjoy!  But a consistent reminder of where we are on the ‘chrono-scale’ is not my idea of “fun”.  It also is a consistent challenge to remaining convinced one is “only as old as one thinks she is!”

Will I excuse myself from future times together?  Probably not.  I’ll weather the conversation that rests simply on the surface of life & leave when it goes beyond my tolerance level. 

Then I’ll come home, take the pill I forgot before leaving, place Russell in the CD player & get busy connecting with younger folks who are beyond child bearing years (thank God they say!) and have yet to give notice that the ‘chrono-scale’ is inching onward.

And no more sliding into the seat of the car with a sigh & breathless utterance - “Oh no, not that again!”

For today, I encourage us to grab life by the b_ _ _ _ (oops!) and grasp it for all it’s worth.  Make it a day in which we wring all we can from the moments and don’t give a second thought that our clock is ticking!

Be proud of your accomplishments this day & be encouraged in all you do!

Linda, a fellow journeyer

Musing over this morning’s coffee, it occurred to me to write something today on what is jokingly referred to by the “younger set” as “living in the past”.  They chuckle over the stereotype of older folks living in their memories of much more youthful days!

Well I’m here to say that’s not all together true!  Oh it may be that folks who are much more ‘chrono-mature’ than we, do indeed review, reminisce & muse over events of their younger days.

But not for us who know that with ‘chrono-maturity’ comes the ripening of wisdom!

Perhaps it’s the warm summer days that brings it out.  Then again, it may be important dates connected with folks who have been very important in our lives.  Folks who are no longer with us “in the flesh”.  But whatever it is, one thing is true as we move along the ‘chrono-scale’.

“Enter nostalgia!”  And it’s not a bad thing at all.  In fact, it’s a very good thing to recall & review folks & events from days when life seemed (trust me, it only seemed) simpler.

Here’s an example of what I mean by “enter nostalgia”.  My friend Harold and I were driving somewhere & he began to share a story from his childhood that related to where we were (I might add, a story I’ve heard eons of times).  His nostalgia led to my own!  So I began to share something from my days that related to a similar event to the one he had been sharing. . . . on & on we went!

Upon our return, he reminded me of an upcoming event we are both to attend.  I noted the date & replied with the following: “that’s the date of my parents wedding anniversary!” 

My parents have been romping around the heavenlies for some years now & probably don’t give a rat’s behind that August 3rd is cause for anniversary celebration!  However, I did a quick mental calculation and responded thusly.  “My parents would be married 73 years on August 3.”

Dear friends, what does that piece of information have to do with the challenges we work through on a daily basis at this point in our lives?  Nothing - Nada!

But just rolling it over in my head, smiling at the thought that my wonderful Mom & Dad may be holding spiritual hands in high & lofty places celebrating 73 years of wedded love brought a chuckle to an otherwise mundane day.  And a sense of ‘fun’ that “nostalgia” can bring to life!

Writing this, I have to wonder if that’s why it’s a trademark of ‘chronologically maturing’ seasons & the 2nd half of any journey?  After all, the longer we tred the path, the more we have to stuff in our memory bag. 

More folks come across our path to lighten the load.  Children & g’children come upon the scene.  G’parents, parents & dear friends leave us - and life moves on!

And we adjust!  We make accommodation for the changes that occur.  However, as Ron says, “relationships never end - they simply change!” 

The pleasant (or not so pleasant at times) memories truly never end.  They continue to pile up & overflow the memory vault.  Thus it’s perfectly understandable that as we continue the path called “2nd half”, folks & events are bound to “pop out” once in a while, so thus. . . . enters nostalgia!

A piece of “wednesday wisdom” for us.  If a younger person rolls her eyes when we grab something from the ‘memory vault’ & lay it out for all to see & hear - respond in the following manner:

“Oh, sweetheart - your time is coming!” 

Because trust me - it will.

Have an awesome day with pleasant reminders from you own memory vault that will lighten the day’s challenges & bring a smile to your face!

Linda, a fellow journeyer

FIRST up is a disclaimer!  I got a couple of apology emails from dear women who somehow thought they were the source of today’s earlier chat on “electronic etiquette”.  Especially the email that ‘yanked my chain’!

Let me say this for all who read here to know!  It was none of our dear women who come here or have become a registered member of our community!  So rest assured dear friends - it was not any of you.

Now to the subject at hand.  I get a load of stuff in my inbox as I’ve said before.  This a.m. was no different!  There they were - all those glorious pieces, many of which I open & save because they have valuable ’stuff’ in them.  One of them this a.m. got particular attention.  It came from a known source & I chuckled as I read the contents.

Then the chuckle turned to disappointment; then to just short of rage. 

“I was waiting for that to happen,” I thought.

How many times have each of us who’ve lived more than a few ‘chrono-mature’ seasons and picked up a bit of wisdom along the way; found ourselves in a situation where someone or something we trusted went “south” (as the old expression goes)?

How deeply does the sense of ‘betrayal’ cut?  Whether it’s actual or imagined - it hurts.  Hurt creates psychic (or emotional pain) that leads to anger and so on & so forth.

What really causes the chain reaction is fear.  When something creates a sense of fear; our human mechanisms protect us by disguising it as “pain” or “anger”.  I always have to remind myself of this when experiencing a sense of hurt or anger. 

But there’s no way to ’slice it’!  When a situation occurs that even has the hint of betrayal with it - it may throw us for a loop.  For me, it’s like the wind blew a big tree across my path and I have to stop & figure out how to quickly remove it without getting injured in the process.

Sometime ago, I heard a woman share her own agonizing story of betrayal with all the gory details included.  She’s less chrono-mature than me, but certainly traveling the 2nd half of the journey.  What struck me were her concluding words. . .

“While it appears to only ’sting’ as I’ve grown older; in reality, it has gone much deeper; hurts more & continues to throw up pangs of pain much longer than when I was younger.  Don’t ever let anyone tell you that we wear it better and carry it easier in our advancing years - not true!”

I thought about her statement and wondered if it was simply specific to her and her personality/temperment or a more general observation of how those of us who are ‘chrono-maturing’ handle the minor & not so minor betrayals that come with life.  Come because we’re all human and fall short. . .

I don’t think it will ever get easier to feel a sense of betrayal from folks we’ve trusted.  We may not lash out or buy a voo-doo doll or some other sort of immature act.  As for me, I’ll roll it into a ball and file it away in my memory chest so as not to be so naive the next time.

With this as my object lesson for today, I’m just going to sit back, wait and watch to see if and when “the other shoe drops”.   But you can bet I’ll keep the memory of potential betrayal close at hand so as not to walk that path with that situation again!

So my wisdom (of sorts) for each of us today is to let the agony of betrayal wash over us as it will anyway - and then go our merry way knowing we learned a new thing that will be valuable as we continue the journey!

Have an awesome day finding trusting relationships that only mellow with age!

P.S.  Paraphasing Ron, “relationships don’t end - they just change!”

Linda, a fellow journeyer

For those of you who don’t know, I’ve been doing many health and fitness articles for the Orange County Register here in California. I’ve done stories on some very interesting subjects. Everything from the latest cure for flat feet to hypnotherapy! 

I also managed to write about some serious subjects as well-corneal transplants, in-home dialysis, sexual dysfunction in women and several other hot topics.

But in the last few weeks-it is I who have been called on to answer questions and become the person “of interest”. It’s been fun and an honor. One was a complete surprise. In fact, it was such a surprise, I only found out about it after it had gone “live” and picked up by Google.

One of the writers websites I submit to had a fellow writer who sent me a very nice private message telling me how much she enjoyed my work. She proceeded to ask me about 20 some odd questions. I felt somewhat taken aback and sent her a return note asking why she would like to know all of this information. You never no what a stranger has in mind these days, even if there are no questions attached.

Her reply was that she was very new to the world of journalism and was just curious as to what everyone’s background was, how they got started, etc…

Since I was knee deep in work, I promised I would answer her questions in as timely a fashion as I could. I did, about a week later. She thanked me and said I had some interesting replies.  Didn’t hear from her after that.

I thought nothing more of the entire incident-just happy she wasn’t a stalker of some kind. Then I did my weekly “Google” on my name. Imagine my surprise when I saw an entry: Carine Nadel’s Live Interview!

Well I suppose it’s better than having a Dead Interview, but I digress. I clicked on it and sure enough-every single answer to every single question she posed was there! Not much of a beginning or end, just her questions with my answers! With replies congratulating her on a “very interesting article”!

Since she didn’t bother to mention that she was going to submit this whole thing, I left her one of my rather sideways comments mentioning my feelings of surprise at the matter. I haven’t heard back, but then I really don’t expect too.

Then the food editor at the OC Register decided one of my recipes would make a great “Recipe of the Week” slide show for the website. She interviewed me about all the details on why and how I came up with the recipe. Her photographer is coming by to snap plenty of pictures of me making the recipe and re-interview me to get audio for the 90 second piece.

I am also a moderator for a major woman’s magazine. A friend who does a lot of free-lancing for the publication has used several of my quotes in her articles. But a new free-lancer (to the magazine) just contacted me and asked if I would be a part of an article about women who have started over after a “certain” age.

Since I wrote an article on just this subject I feel very qualified to help her out.  Even if I got a really weird comment from the magazine I submitted it too.  I’m always ready to help out a fellow writer.

And that’s been my week. Just enough to keep me guessing, but not enough to make my head begin to swell. And now, onto the 3 loads of laundry in my back room to make sure I keep grounded.

Have an awesome day!

I’ve spent several days attempting to keep my internal temperature down & I don’t mean I had a ‘fever’.  For that reason, I chose to share here a few tips on “electronic etiquette!”  You know, how to behave in an environment where we can’t see or touch each other & may have no clue about how the other communicates or what she means.

What prompted this was not an email in all CAPS or bold type which most of us know is a “no-no” in email.  No, what prompted it was a communication that came across as a “command” or “demand”!  At a time when my plate was already overloaded & stuff was ‘dripping’ from its sides.  Because I don’t know this person yet and because I don’t have any idea of how she communicates with others; I was not a ‘happy camper’!

I handled it well, I think!  But I seethed inside because I felt I was being commanded to do something as if I was an “underling” and not the “leader of the pack”.

Now, least you think I’m the resident expert on electronic etiquette - I’m definitely NOT!  I learned the hard way how not to correspond electronically!  My lack of discretion was used to tell me my services weren’t needed following the probation period (only time that happened, I might add & frankly - I didn’t care!).

A few pointers that I’m trying to always put into practice: a) always use spell check.  Even if we are an adequate speller, writing on the computer is almost like writing on a blackboard & I don’t know about you, but I never do as well at correct spelling on the blackboard;

b) use “caps”, “bold” and “underlining” sparingly for no other reason than to add emphasis.  All “caps” and “bold” is construed as “YELLING” in email and leaves a very nasty impression in the minds of our recipients.

c) when asking for something from another via electronic mail; do so with great decorum & considerable politeness.  If we’re time-pressed, it may not be the best time to send a quick; brief communication that can be misconstrued by the other party.  Use “please” and “thank you” sparingly as to not appear disingenuous; but enough to be honestly polite.

Continuing with “c)”, try not to use shortcut phrases to make your request.  If you’re busy, then assume the other is as well and give latitute for that when communicating.  For instance, had the email I received contained an “at your earliest convenience” phrase, I may have taken it differently!

d) try to use proper grammar if at all possible.  My strong suit in college was considerable command of English - all aspects including grammar.  Over the years, including 10+ in fund raising development where one may through out all the rules when writing appeal pieces; I’ve lost my ‘touch’ in that area.  I struggle in the blog with proper spelling & grammar because I haven’t figured out that piece of WP yet!

Trust me, if we use the thesarus, spell & grammar check that is built into our electronic systems; we will help our reader know exactly what we are saying. 

And when we add a wee-bit of pleasantry; politeness and phrases of “consideration” to our electronic communication - we will gain considerably!

e) always try to use a salutation (I’m guilty of not always doing that).  Sometimes I get mail that I know who it’s from, but the message is one that could be sent to anyone - rather than specifically to me.  It’s such a simple ‘courtesy’ that most folks appreciate.

Back to the communication that prompted this.  I’m quite certain the person who sent the email was not meaning any disrespect or disregard for another’s time-pressured days.  I also recognize that one of my “growing edges” is when someone communicates with me as if I’m of less importance or worse yet. . . “dumb & stupid!”

A genius I’m not; but “dumb & stupid” I’m not either!  I respect the more than adequate brain Papa gave me & the fine mind He has spent years developing - so don’t downgrade His work, I say!

With that in mind - part of our grasp of great electronic etiquette is what we learn practically from others!  And the rest is who we are at our “growing edges”.  Since we may not know each other’s “growing edges” because we’ve not ‘connected’ as yet - it’s wise to enter cautiously, displaying our most courteous, polite self to the other.

After all, that’s part of the bedrock on which great relationships are built!

Hope this was a wee-bit helpful and wishing each of you an awesome day with no electronic glitches to get in your way of considerable successes!

Linda, a fellow journeyer

You’re going to read the title of this & assume I’m giving you some new dynamic info about “business”.  Not so!

I needed a break!  So last evening, I settled in to ‘veg’ in front of TV.  Thinking that Sunday evening TV is pretty nauseating, I decided to see what was on the BBC channel, hoping to catch a re-run of “Last Choir Standing” with favorite singer, Russell as a judge.

What I did discover was a fabulous movie entitled “Calendar Girls” with Helen Mirren (Oscar for her role in “The Queen”) and a bevy of delightful ‘chronologically maturing women’.  As I switched back & forth between the BBC & “Dateline”, I became increasingly more intrigued with the “Calendar Girls”.

The story line was based on the true story of 12 women in the Yorkshire area of England who produced a ‘calendar’ that to date has raised over 500,000 pound or well over $1,000,000 US dollars.  The money has funded Leukemia research and support projects world wide, as well as funded a sofa for an English hospital where one of the women’s husband died.  It was his death that initially led to the highly creative “calendar” project!

You may remember the “calendar”.  It became newsworthy in the states & I recall seeing a photograph of the 12 on internet news.

Quick synopsis: Chris (played by H. Mirren) found a playboy-type magazine under her son’s bedroom rug.  She then saw a pinup calendar (remember when we called them “pinups”?) in a bicycle repair garage & asked to borrow it.  Chris wanted to help her best friend whose husband had died of cancer, raise enough funds to buy a sofa for the hospital - that was it!  

Her creative idea? 

A semi-nude calendar featuring 11 of her best friends from a ‘crusty & prudish’ women’s organization throughout England (perhaps the entirety of Europe).  The film follows their story through to the success the “calendar” gained as word spread across the continent & the pond. 

Humorous to say the least!

I delighted in how their creative efforts (and courage I might add) told the world that beauty is not just to be found with young, slender, voluptious women.  The “Calendar Girls” gave dignity (albeit of a somewhat racy kind) and credibility to ‘chronolgically maturing women’ whose figures may not be what they used to be and whose determination to make a difference gave them the courage to ‘bare’ their ‘bods’ (quite decently I might add) to make it happen!  The unusualness of the ‘calendar’ made it a huge hit - even in the states!

I’m not suggesting any of us do such a daring thing!  After all, it’s already been done!  But I am suggesting that the courage of these 12 turned the spotlight on the beauty, integrity and value of women who’ve passed the “middle mark.”

It was a “gamey” idea to use a British term.  It was risky to say the least and required considerable ‘moxxy’ on the part of the women.  They risked relationships with family & long-term friends, as well as considerable ridicule. 

What they gained was not only huge amounts of charitable $$$s, but a sense of their own worth, self-esteem and confidence they didn’t have before.

Well, I don’t think any of us need to go to quite the ‘extreme’, as some might call Chris’ creative idea.  But I do think it is a lesson for us who are ‘chronologically maturing’ & traveling the 2nd half of the journey!  That where we are on the chrono-scale has nothing to do with what we can accomplish.

And that growth in confidence, self esteem, personal & professional success may only come when we are willing to take a risk.  A risk that other’s might consider ludicrous at best and foolish at least.

So if you can find a copy of “Calendar Girls”, rent it and enjoy!  And let it speak to the dreams & visions in your soul that await your decision to “take a risk” to let that “creative biz concept”. . .  

out of it’s hiding place!

Have an awesome day with no fears to choke your path!

Linda, a fellow journeyer

Over the past number of years, there has been an entire series of novels that include the phrase “left behind” in them.  At least the content is all about being left behind when “the end” comes.

But that’s not where I’m going with this for a number of reasons.  What I’m talking about is how often women get “left behind” when it comes to moving on or up in pursuit of our chosen career or professional path.

I remember some years ago being told that women who have been out of the “workplace” for some time (or maybe never went there) have an exceedingly difficult challenge on re-entry or entry in general.

Then suddenly, that viewpoint changed!  I was told that women who’ve managed a home & been involved in community work as a volunteer needed to put that experience on their resumes.  Why?  Because that kind of organizational experience is often what an employer is looking for.

With that in mind, I would have to say that “progress” has been made - at least in terms of how employers view the skills that home managers bring to the marketplace!

It occurs to me, however, that when it comes to the business of getting out there; joining this organization or that, and connecting for the purpose of advancing a career or building a business - we’re often ‘left behind’!

I say that because I’ve heard comments recently that indicate same and have studied some of the business-building organizations with which I’m acquainted.  The comments fall into the category of “males simply don’t seem to understand the concept of serving the other” and “all he did was talk about himself & his business & that’s not why I joined _ _ _ _ organization”!

Most of the organizations I looked at that were not gender-specific, had a much higher percentage of male members than female.  Yet we are more than 50% of the nation’s population (at least according to the last statistics I saw)!  And men and women approach professional advancement or business growth in different ways. 

The genders are different and I say viva la differenc’!  However, that difference may make all the difference in how successful women are in situations where we are the minority!  It ought not be that way because I think the female understands the male much better than the other way around.

Just my opinion, mind you!  But I think there’s considerable truth in the statement.

Women-owned businesses are the fastest growing segment of the economy!  We are starting; developing and growing businesses at a much faster rate than any other segment of the nation’s economy.  We are also highly successful in maintaining those businesses beyond the difficult 18 month launch period.

So why are we the minority when it comes to business-building organizations that are not gender-specific.  Are we timid about joining these organizations?  Do we shy away from “swimming with the sharks” (quoting a well-known book title & not meaning males are “sharks”)?  What is the reason?

Quite honestly, I don’t know!  I have no clue except that this past week, I heard a woman-in-business say “what I like about this is it’s all women!”  The sense I got from the comment (which I have paraphrased here) was that meeting with; building relationships with & just chatting with each other in a women-only environment removed barriers & created a sense of relief when it comes to developing her business. 

And this from a woman who is active in a non-gender specific organization of considerable size!

BOTTOM LINE!  We ought never to be “left behind”!  We ought never allow ourselves to feel “left behind” even when it would appear that is or has happened.  And we don’t have to adopt male-ish ways to do that.  All we have to do is assert what we do best in terms of abilities, skills, honesty, integrity & wisdom - with a little of our awesome knowledge thrown in for good measure.

I don’t play golf!  And I’m not much of a sports fan period (unless it’s the Indy Colts!) either.  But when meeting a male over lunch or coffee to gain momentum for what we do here; I can always find some common ground on which to ‘land’ so that his barriers drop (if he comes with ‘barriers’) and mine do as well.

When that happens, it becomes as simple as 2 persons meeting to be mutually beneficial to each other.

And neither of us is “left behind”!

So make a vow for the coming week that you’ll look for common ground when meeting with the ‘boys’ and never be or feel “left behind” again!

Have an awesome day with so many blessings you have to buy a bigger purse to hold them!

Linda, a fellow journeyer

Yes, this time last week we were on US soil; doing laundry & catching up with all that had occurred while away!

But let’s return briefly to our travelogue & get us from medieval York, England to Edinburgh and home.

Thursday a.m. in York was beautiful - warm; not a cloud in sight and free enough for a leisurely walk to the bookstore on Micklegate before boarding the train to Edinburgh.

Train travel in Europe is standard practice.  The trains run consistently and are most frequent.  This one was no exception; full of travelers awaiting a stop at Newcastle (site of Russell’s concert on Monday evening); and less than comfortable I might add.  Simply because it was so crowded that our luggage was stuck in the passageway between 2 cars & I was antsy until I could get it in the proper luggage compartment in our car.  There was food on the train and I took advantage of snack time to ward off hunger on the 2+ hour trip to Scotland.

We arrived at Edinburgh Waverly Station on time and quickly strode to the station exit.  Wow, a long & steep climb up 6 or 7 flights of concrete stairs to street level.  Harold and I started the arduous journey with 3 pieces of now-much heavier pieces when a young man bounded behind me and offered to carry my bag.  I didn’t ask any questions, but politely allowed him to take the bag from my hand.  He then went to Harold and offered to take his one large case.  Harold, always the ‘macho’ male declined.  The young man courteously offered to pick up the end of the case and help Harold up the steep steps.

Up they went with luggage in tow.  Once on the street, we offered to pay the young man for his kindness.  To our utter amazement, the young man said, “Oh, no!  It was a pleasure,” and darted up the street with packback swinging.

We stared at each other and I exclaimed, “well would that happen in the states?”

 I’m usually the one who can quickly acclimate to new surroundings and get us around with map in hand; but I had no clue where we were except that we had landed on Princes Street.  West End or East?  For 2 folks who never used taxi service, we made up for it while abroad!

Once back at Orwell House Lodge on Polwarth, we settled in for a quick brew before deciding to do a ‘dry run’ for finding the Airlink bus to the airport which departed from the lower end of Waverly Bridge.  (We did a lot of ‘dry runs’ this time around just to make sure we knew where we were going and how much time it would take us to get there).

Since this was our last day in Edinburgh, I wanted to soak up the environment & atmosphere.  We wandered through the park that runs between Princes Street & the rail station.  The park houses the huge “Scots Monument” that rises at least 8 or 9 stories in the air with a small walkway for those brave enough to climb the narrow staircase to enjoy the view.

I forgot to tell you that in York, we walked up about 150 steps or so to the Clifford Tower which is all that is left of one of 2 fortresses that guarded the city from Roman times through the Middle Ages.  All that is left now is a round building that houses a small gift shop (why not?!) and a few indications of what the original structure housed.  Harold climbed to the top to get a great view of the city; but I declined and stayed below.

Considering I have vertigo that has gotten worse as I’ve grown more chrono-mature; I made it down the long stairway with relative ease - one step at a time not looking anywhere except at the step immediately below me!  Now that’s determination and exercise!

Back to Edinburgh and the park that runs along Princes Street.  We then crossed the broad thoroughfare to find Marks & Spencer’s (fondly nicknamed “Marks & Sparks”), a large retail chain in the UK that houses a ‘bureau d’ change’.  We needed a few pound to get us through the evening and safely on the plane the following day.  Upon our return to Orwell House, we enjoyed a dinner of lasagne; brew & dessert before retiring early.  At least I retired early!  Harold finished Russell’s autobiography while I snoozed away our final evening across the pond.

I have to tell you that the Edinburgh airport is class!!!  The staff dresses in suits & ties (the gentlemen) and are very courteous, professional and kind.  Harold’s passport had expired the day before (we hoped we had that ‘wrinkle’ resolved prior to leaving).  We waited while the staff verified our information about “expired passports”.  Once settled at the gate, I took time for one last mocha on Scottish soil before boarding the Continental 757 (ugh, my least favorite piece of equipment) for the 8 hour trip ‘home’.

Those of you who know me well will appreciate that I weathered that lengthy time quite well with 2 movies; airline food; a number of breath mints & several coffee stir sticks! 

Wow, was I glad the plane landed 30 minutes ahead of schedule; the luggage was there at the carousel when we arrived; and the line at US customs was short & efficient.  Once our bags were loaded onto the conveyor for the last leg of the flight to Dayton; we headed outside for a breath of fresh air in the warm sun.  Our cool-weather jackets must have looked strange to the ‘natives’ who wore shorts in the nearly 90 degree weather.

I won’t belabor the point here; but there is a dramatic difference between the Edinburgh airport & Newark’s Liberty!  And I do mean “dramatic”.  There is even a drastic difference between the international terminal and domestic.

I went outside again after going through security the 1st time.  I needed the air (uh-hum).  While taking in the NYC skyline from my vantage point on the ground level; I was treated to continual horn-honking from the line of taxi’s waiting for fares outside the terminal.  Then to the utter amazement of the crowd milling about; 2 taxi drivers got into a physical altercation ourside their cabs!  Swinging, pushing, shoving and not a police or security person in sight.  One cabbie had verbally assaulted a security person (a female of considerable physical stature) who simply walked away from what appeared to be an escalating situation.  Although every bystander was yelling for security; no one came to breakup the incident and it abated when the 2 men returned to their cabs; picked up a fare & went on their way.

My thought as I returned to the terminal was, “You couldn’t pay me to live here!” 

Next there was security.  Because I hadn’t been impressed with the TSA person who checked our ID the first time, I went to the 2nd station.  A young man who looked bored, tired, disinterested or all 3 looked at my already initialed boarding pass & then announced that I would have to remove my license from my billfold.  Well it doesn’t come out easily - in fact it is next to impossible to remove!  Even though I told him that, he took my billfold from my hand and tried wiggling the license free.  When it wouldn’t come, he handed the wallet back to me with his now famous line - “it has to come out of there.”

“Well, take it out,” I stated with a wry grin!  “You say it has to come out; you took my wallet from my hands, so you take it out!”

Next thing I knew he was making a call on his 2-way radio.  Deciding I didn’t want to spend any more time in Newark than necessary; especially in a holding cell, I took my billfold back, took out c.cards & finally wiggled the license free.  He stared at it; handed it back to me with the boarding pass and motioned me on.  As I headed for the bins & xray equipment, I said, “Now call whoever it is you called & tell them I’m not getting detained today!”

I won’t go into great lengths the next piece of the saga, but let’s just say that the staff was less than 25 years of age; somewhat unsure of what they were supposed to do (like how to tell what that funny-shaped thing is in the woman’s suitcase ahead of me); and obviously not enjoying their work.  As a long line waited behind me, a woman in front could not decide what to do with an 8 oz of Breck something that did not meet regulations.  The young TSA agent was so kind and courteous to her & that made the frustrating wait even more frustrating.  She kept looking at me - guess I was supposed to make the decision for her since her husband had chosen to go on ahead.  There was considerable discussion about her “options” - none of which seemed suitable to her.  Several of us let the woman know in a smug “know it all” manner that “it’s common knowledge you can’t take more than 4 oz & it has to be in a . . . . !”

With temperatures rising and the line lengthing, the TSA agent asked for the 4th time what the woman wanted to do while he held the Breck over a waste basket.  Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on who’s making the judgment), he looked at me and I calmly said - “throw it away!”  He didn’t, but continued to look at me instead of the woman whose decision-making abilities must have been in her checked luggage.

“THROW IT AWAY!”  I raised my voice only slightly and “plop” went the Breck into the basket of trash.  Just at that moment, spouse showed up wondering what all the commotion was about.  I simply stated the situation and told him I had the agent throw the tube in the trash.

“Why did you do that,” he asked?

I retrieved my wallet, boarding pass and other necessities from the bin and sprinted toward the gate where Harold was calmly reading a book.

“Where have you been,” he inquired?  “Did you have fun out in the sun?”

To which I replied, “you’re never going to believe this, but. . . . . . !

Finally we arrived in Dayton 40 minutes late and on the coldest airplane I’ve ever had the misfortune to be on.  Took the long-term parking coach & then couldn’t remember what row our car was in.  We loaded luggage in the Windstar and headed for Indiana. 

It was exactly 12 midnight when we rolled up in front of our home and poured out the car with luggage in tow.  I glanced at my watch and mentally calculated the number of hours we had been awake.

23 hours from Edinburgh, Scotland, UK to our front door in Connersville, Indiana USA!  Is it any wonder it has taken nearly a week for my body rythmns to return to some semblance of normality?

All in all, with all the quirky things that happened, it was a great trip.  No demanding luggage out at 5:45 a.m. & on the coach by 7:00; no tour director barking orders and giving barely enough time to potty along the way; no foreign language to decipher (although the accent gave us a bit of a challenge at times).  There is certainly something to be said for traveling outside a group.  And sometimes the difference in cost is worth it when one can create one’s own itinerary and take charge of one’s own time.

Well, it was awesome.  Much to store in our memory banks & much to share with daughter’s and g’children who are real history buffs. 

I hope you’ve enjoyed the mini-travelogue and bid farewell to the friendly folks of the UK with us as we return to “life as usual in the good ole’ USA!”

Have an awesome weekend with much rest and a little fun along the way!

Linda, a fellow traveler

Today & tomorrow, I’ll conclude my mini-travelog; vicariously taking you along on our UK trip.  Maybe I didn’t say before, but this was my 1st trip back across the pond since 1995.  And the strange thing was that I never felt I had traveled that far and was in a ’strange land’.  Can’t quite explain it other than little or no language barrier, etc.; but it was if I’d never flown 7+ hours to another continent.

Coming back is quite a different story!  Time difference you know creates havoc with one’s bio-rthymns (hard time spelling that word correctly - but you know what I mean).

Wednesday of last week was all day in York and we took full advantage.  The city dates back to the Roman Empire days and as such has maintained much of the old city walls & gates (called “bars”).  Just as one can do in Jerusalem at the ‘old city’; you can walk around the York walls.  And we did so!

Have to say that the views were magnificent and the lack of people-traffic was a great relief!  The walls are thick enough in most places to allow 2 people to walk side by side without danger of falling.  Most places do not have a retainer fence, so it’s travel at your own risk (actually very little risk is involved unless you have a fear of heights). 

At Mickelgate Bar (the ‘gate’ at Mickelgate Street), we descended to take care of necessary biological challenges and discovered a charming bookstore with attached cafe’ at the rear.  What delighted me was a tiny outdoor courtyard (we’d call it a patio) with a few tables for folks who wanted to soak up the sunshine that blessed all the morning.  The break afforded me my first cappucino of the day and Harold an opportunity to catch up on the news with an early edition newspaper.  It was wonderful!

Back on the walls, we continued the 2+ mile walk and descended near a bridge over the Ouze.  We decided to take a short cruise on the river and learned that the Romans came there because of the convergence of two major rivers (the Ouze & the Foss) & built the city on the land between the two because the river configuration provided considerable safety and security from the raiding hoards that raged in those days. 

Back on land after the 45-minute trip up and back the Ouze; we headed for the Minster area again as there is much park and garden areas between the river and the Minster at this point.  We wandered to the York Museum, but decided to pass after realizing the size of the building would afford us little time to see it all for the money we would pay!  So we settled for a look at the remains of St. Mary Abbey on the park grounds near the Museum.

One of the fun things when we’re away is to ‘explore’ a little those things that are “off the map”.  There are such great little streets & what we would call alleyways that don’t seem to appear on any tourist map.  York calls them “snickelways”.  Not having the 2 books that identify and explain the “snickelways”, we just took this turn and that turn and found a few of the delightful venues that appear unchanged since they were first built.  If one has a very active imagination, you can imagine how it must have been in those medieval days during the period of ‘chivalry’.

I wanted to discover the “Roman Bath”, so with trusty map in hand, we found the place tucked in a corner of one of the city squares.  The basement reveals the remains of an early Roman bath frequented by the Roman Legions that occupied York during the remaining days of the empire.  There was a great explanation of how the baths were constructed and how the Romans provided heat in the “caladrium”.  For that period of history, the Romans were smarter “than the average bear”.

What I found fascinating was that the baths appeared to be the forerunner of our modern “fitness” clubs complete with what we call a “sauna”.

We were 2 weary folk in need of refreshment, so we found a pub on one of the narrow cobbled streets that served mostly indigenous fare.   So we tried Yorkshire Pudding - mine with roast beef and Harold had pork in his.  It’s an interesting dish with the meat in the center covered with rich (and fattening I might add) gravy ringed with a batter similar to pancakes except less sweet.

Back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep before departing near noon the following day for Edinburgh via train.  I finished Russell Watson’s autobiography (”Finding My Voice - My Story”) days before and now Harold was totally engrossed in it as well!  The television only afforded us 2 channels so that was a bust and I feel asleep rapidly with sweet dreams of great music, knights & ladies-in-waiting running about my mind.

We had some time on Thursday before our train departure, so I walked back up Mickelgate towards the Bar to find the delightful bookstore where I’d purchased some items the day before.  I wanted something on the history of the Plantaganent kings that ruled in Britain from Henry I through the Black Prince (at least I think that’s the timeline).  Couldn’t find what I was looking for, so settled on a history that began with Henry III and moved forward into a more ‘modern’ period.  Found it in a book entitled “The Age of Chivalry”.

Following a quick taxi ride with a wonderful York native who gave us a running history lesson and brief glimpse into the sheep shearing business before dropping us at the rail station; we boarded the train for Edinburgh via Newcastle.  I’m always amazed at the sophistication of rail travel in the countries across the pond.  Inexpensive by our standards and plenty of connections so that folks can get almost anywhere via rapid transit. 

We could take a lesson from the Europeans in this category!

Tomorrow more on Edinburgh and the adventure of getting home via a highly organized & professional airport staff at Edinburgh in contrast with the havoc we encountered in Newark!  Gotta tell you, I was ready to take the next plane back to the UK!

Enough for today.  We’ll be back on track with the usual banter come Sunday; leaving behind awesome memories that will stay with us for a lifetime!

Have an awesome Friday with considerable successes & ample time to wind down before a weekend of summer leisure fun!

Linda, a fellow journeyer

The early coach ride from Newcastle to York, England was pleasant!  Especially so because I still had beautiful music running about my brain from the evening before.  That and the rolling green countryside dotted here and there with sheep and cattle made for a very quiet peaceful trip!

The coach stopped at the curb across from the York station so we gathered luggage; trudged across the busy street and qued up (that’s British for ’stood in line’) for the next taxi.  A delightful gentleman dropped us at the Ramada on Mickelgate Street and a pleasant room overlooking the parking lot of several businesses and a slip of a glimpse at the tower of the famed York Minster!

The weather was warm and it did not appear that rain was in sight, so we ventured downtown (just a brief walk away across one major bridge spanning the River Ouze (pronounced “ooze”).  When we rounded a corner on our search for “The Shambles”, we discovered a broad street with a tree & bench-lined thoroughfare on which to perch for a few moments while I studied the trusty map.  To our delight there was a middle-aged gentleman singing & playing a ‘mean’ guitar perched on the steps of the outdoor toilet building.  He was quite good as he entertained all with songs from the Beatles & Simon & Garfunkel, etc.  Not “The Voice” mind you; but very good considering he must have been a local chap and making extra pounds entertaining weary shoppers who stopped to rest and take in his pleasant voice, etc.

Wha-la, we found it!  The narrowest and one of the oldest (if not the oldest) streets in York.  One building had a very noticeable sag and well-deserved I might add since it dated from somewhere in the 1600’s!  Most of what we would call “downtown” is pedestrian only with narrow sidewalks; cobbled center path & charming buildings with considerable vintage on them.  We strolled the short Shambles & at an intersection discovered a large outdoor market (I love them - don’t you?).  Harold bought fresh peaches & I languished over cappucino at a nearby outdoor food & beverage cart.  I tried to enjoy at least one (1) cappucino daily as they taste much better over the pond than this side - wonder why?

We continued our leisurely stroll down narrow cobbled streets lined with shops of all kinds, including one that sold “suits of armour”.  There were the familiar of course, but the ones that took my eye were the quaint boutique shops that sold local or regional goods.  At one point, we were enticed into a fudge shop with the offer of a “free sample”.  Turns out the fudge being made & sold there dated to sometime in the 1800’s and has been a consistent feature of that location throughout the years.

We resisted the temptation to add fudge to our shopping bag!

There it was!  We turned the corner and before us was an awesome view of the entrance to one of the world’s most famous Gothic cathedrals - the York Minster!  It is HUGE to say the least.  And what history it holds. 

Before wandering across the busy street that runs in front of the visitor entrance, I stopped at the York Minster store to purchase a few items for the g’children at home and found delightful quaint enameled earrings for g’daughter-headed-for-college next month that are made by a local fellow (everything else said “made in . . . .” and I don’t mean “England”).

Inside the Minster, one is overcome with it’s size.  The center tower rises well over 75 feet (if memory serves me correctly) and the nave and quire seem to go on forever.  First I insisted we visit the “Crypt & Treasury” in the excavated basement area.  You see the Minster project began in the days of the Roman occupation during the time of Constantine & his determination to Christianize the Roman world.  When locals engaged in a costly project to save the minster from further deterioration; they discovered a treasure-trove among the ancients who began this massive building project sometime in the 4th C. AD (again, if memory serves me right).  In fact, a huge statue of Constantine stands on the grounds of the Minster near the main entrance.

We hung out upstairs for quite some time, because a performing arts group was rehearsing a production that would appear later that day on the BBC!  They are a group that plays the ancient instruments, including lyre & harp.  They were delightful!  We weren’t the only onlookers to the company’s rendition of the story of Daniel from the Bible since the music and exquisite voices of their small choir filled the huge building from end to end.

The highlight of our first day in York was attendance at Evensong - the evening service of the Church of England (our version is the Episcopal Church).  We qued up at 5:00 p.m. and were ushered into the Quire portion of the Minster and sat in the magnificent wooden & padded seats built along the side of the Quire just inside it’s massive doors.  Above our heads were magnificent intricate wood carvings shaped into tiny “tent-covering” shapes and on the walls behind us were what I can only assume were family names, as well as names of different royal charters such as the “Royal Order of the Garter”.

This particular service was sung by a men & boys choir and their voices were awesome!  Most likely the service has not changed much since it was first introduced following the Reformation and Henry VIII’s break with the Roman church.  Composed mainly of different Psalms sung by the choir, it was inspiring beyond description and a major highlight (at least for me) of our trip.  And of course, there was the magnificent organ that rings out via over 700 (or is it 7000?) pipes. 

We concluded our evening with a search for food!  In a town that has more pubs & cafes than one can imagine, we searched & searched for a place to eat.  Either closed for the evening (?) or the fish fryer was not working (fish & chips you know) or some other difficulty.  We finally found a pub with food and settled in for a taste of the local brew and recommended indigenous food.  It was great!

Thus ended our first, partial day in York - the heart of Yorkshire, England.  This medieval walled city is a delight; especially if ancient and old English history is a particular favorite and that description fits me!  Tomorrow I’ll wind up the travelogue by sharing our walk on the city walls from one “bar” to the next!  And take us from York back to Edinburgh via train and our last evening on the other side of the pond.

Hope you’re enjoying vicariously traveling with us.  I’ll get back to usual banal banter (don’t you just love aliteration?) the weekend.  But the memories of the UK, the warm (more than just warm actually) folks, ancient edifices, rolling green hills & rocky crags will linger for quite some time.  And the Russell memories may last a lifetime as I continue to hear him singing in my head each morning I awake!

Have an awesome day with much love & an exciting positive adventure or 2 along the way.

Linda, a fellow journeyer