Bags Are Packed, Ready to Go

7:07

7:36

7:55

It's 7:00 and guess what, the sky is an amazing combination of pink, gray, gold and blue, as the sun has not yet risen.   I have been up a half hour, listening to NPR, the depressing news of the killing of two policemen in New York City.  It's going to be warmer today, with some sun but at the moment, it's a frigid 21º.

Ready For A Walk In Dobbins Woods

Sunday, after a quiet morning, relaxing with the local paper, coffee and enjoying the moment, we decided to do something.  Amazingly, we got up off our couches, put on our hiking clothes and boots and when off to hike Dobbins Woods, about a ten minute drive from our house.  It was a perfect temperature for walking, a crisp 30º, with not a whiff of wind.  It was invigorating to just breathe in the cool air, to walk in the woods, untouched except for animal tracks everywhere we walked.  We rarely see a sign of life whenever we hike, so it was interesting to see how much the snow fall was covered with tracks of animals, mostly deer and rabbits I would think. We have not been in Dobbins in months, so the changes from early fall to now are pronounced, little green except for the few hemlock groves, lots of dead fall, littering the whiteness of the ground, and open vistas, as everything has died back.  We were out for just about an hour, never cold except for our hands.  A good way to start a Sunday.

Among The Hemlocks

After walking, we drove to Wegman's so Evie could get a flu shot before we head East.  Wegman's was packed with shoppers on a Sunday morning, getting ready for the holidays I suppose.  Every checkout aisle was open yet I still had to wait.  We were home by 1:00, just in time for the start of the Browns game.  Evie made us breakfast: eggs, bacon, and bagels, and we settled in for the afternoon, watching some football, listening to the Browns game, doing some reading, packing for our trip, and enjoying the afternoon.

Around 4:00, we broke our no alcohol before 5:00 rule, opened a bottle of white, and sat in the living room, listening to NPR and reading.  Evie also wrote and tried to send one last Christmas card but the website, FELT, was down so it was a bit irritating.  She wrote them an email and they immediately responded, even on a Sunday afternoon, and let her know when the site was back up.  Great customer service but a balky app.

We had a typical Sunday dinner, leftover rotisserie chicken, with stuffing, mashed potatoes,  spinach, gravy and a salad.  We were looking forward to Sunday night TV because two or our favorite series, Homeland and The Affair, were having their final episode, tying together all the loose threads.  SPOILER ALERT: Well, Homeland was a mega disappointment, no booms or flashes, no heroes thwarting terrorist plots. Instead, we learn that Carrie has a stepbrother, that he mother left her when she was fifteen, and she's never forgiven her.  Who cares about Carrie's private life.  Let's get back to her CIA job for heavens sakes. She and Quinn have a brief moment, but she will not commit, so he's off to Syria with a Special Forces team.  No doubt to be captured and extracted from a cell by Carrie in next year's series.  And Saul compromises his morality and integrity, agreeing to work with the terrorist who was responsible for the deaths of over thirty State Department employees.  How unsurprising that he's pragmatic, political, willing to compromise to get his job back.  We put off The Affair until tonight.  Maybe the two lovers will live happily ever after, riding off into the sunset, leaving behind their families, happy with their choice.  Not!

Winter Arrives, Lake's Frozen---No Kayaking Till Spring

8:10

Frozen 

Well, I slept in till 8:00 though I had a restless night.  It was strange to get up and find it light out, the lake and sky its usual silver gray.  It's 30º out and will stay in the 30's most of the day.  The long range forecast looks fine for our drive on Tuesday to our daughter Jill's in Bristow, VA, perhaps some rain but no snow or ice.

My only tasks yesterday were to drive to the Transfer Station around noon, attend yoga at 9:00, a mixed levels class.  It was more challenging then most I attend, but I managed to keep up.  When I walked out, one of the younger students asked how long I had been taking yoga, I told her a couple of years, and she said I was 'really good.'  Wow. I think she meant to say it was amazing to see someone my age manage to handle this class!  After class,  it was coffee, then to Sam's for gas and a rotisserie chicken, then home, off to the the Transfer Station and that was it for the rest of the day.

We both must have been suffering from the Post Viking Club Blues because neither one of us felt like doing much yesterday.  How could Saturday match the excitement of a Friday night at the Viking? I guess I could have gone for a hike but instead, I started packing for our trip and Evie gave the upstairs bedrooms a good fall cleaning, moving all the geraniums out of one of the bedrooms because they were buggy and not doing well, alas.  The plants in our other bedroom seem to be doing well.  I watched some basketball, saw part of the Ohio State loss to North Carolina but mostly I read my biography of John Wooden.  It's a tomb so I may not have it done by the time we leave on Tuesday, no big deal.

At 6:00, we settled down with a glass of wine, some horseradish cheese and crackers, and listened to Garrison Keeler's Prairie Home Companion.  Around 7:30, Evie made hash browns, then cole slaw and we had half of the chicken for dinner.  Not much to watch on Saturday night unless you like football or basketball and Evie doesn't usually so, fortunately, the finals of the women's NCAA Volleyball Tournament was on ESPN so we watched the ladies from Penn State defeat Brigham Young in three matches,  highlighting the amazing athleticism of women's volleyball.

We then watched a new series we are beginning to enjoy on HBO called GETTING ON.  It's an improbable comedy, set in a geriatric ward, perhaps black comedy is a better description as you could as easily laugh as cry.  It reminds us both of the classic ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST movie and book and there's even a big nurse.  And he is big, about three hundred pounds, named Patti.  It's amazing to think of the casting, how they can take older women and make them look like they belong in this ward for mostly the terminally ill.  Leave it to the Brits to make a comedy out of this situation.  This GETTING ON is an American take off on the British show.

Much of the humor comes from the institutional madness, something anyone who has worked in an institution can identify with.  For example, one of the new waves of change that came from the higher ups involved calling patients 'customers' rather than 'patients', as if this will make a difference.  Sound familiar, another idiocy from those who have never worked in the hospital.  It takes some time to get used to this comedy  but the actors are both funny and sad, having to put up with all the guff from those above.  And the head resident is absolutely nuts, only interested in her 'fecal' study, as she darts around the ward gathering samples!

She's A Winner, A BIG WINNER at The Viking Club, Maple Springs, NY

The Joy Of Winning Money

Forget about the time I got up, the weather, all that boring stuff and let's get down to last night. Around 6:00, we got spruced up and drove across the lake to Maple Springs for a fish fry at our other club, the The Viking, set on the lake, home for all the Swedes, one of the two groups that settled this area.  It's much smaller than the Rod and Club and not as busy, so when we walked in, we were able to get a seat at at the bar.  We ordered a beer, relaxed with some of the others, recognized some of the regulars.  I had read that this Friday they were having a steak raffle, so I asked the bartender if there was one and she said the guy would be coming around.

So this little guy walks up with a bucket and we get the deal, ten tickets for five bucks.  We never win anything but these kind of things keep clubs like this going along with alcohol consumption.  Ten minutes later, he calls out the numbers and viola, we have one of the numbers and win two 12 ounce steaks!  As my good friend Mac would say, Yippee.  We laughed with others about our winning and struck up a conversation with the couple sitting next to us, residents of the village of Ashville, Doug and Dawn Johnson. As we were talking, Evie looked up at the gambling board and saw there were a couple of $160.00 tickets still up for grabs.  So we thought, hey, this is our lucky day so we bought five dollars worth of tickets. You have to open each ticket and to win, you must have three matches on a ticket.  We opened the first four, nothing, the fifth, and we won  two dollars.  Big deal.  So, we bought two more, what the heck, might as well waste two dollars more and viola, Evie went crazy as we won one hundred and sixty bucks.  The others at the bar started laughing, wanted to come over for dinner for steaks, and so on.  We gave a nice tip to the bartender, bought our friends a beer, and thought about how much fun we were having.

We did not push our luck, so at 7:30, we went into the dining room, and easily got a table for two.  I ordered the fish fry and Evie had a Swedish special, Winka ham with ligonberry sauce. It's a fresh ham, brined, then slow cooked with Swedish spices, and its texture is more like a pork roast than ham. Evie really liked it and my fish fry was fine.  By the time we finished, the bar and dining room were starting to empty as it was close to the closing of the dining room.  As we got ready to leave, the guy with the steak raffle tickets came by and said he had more steaks.  We could win a single steak this time if we had the right ticket.  So Evie, unable to resist the temptation to win another steak, bought the special, ten tickets for five bucks.  We stood around for five minutes as he continued to sell tickets, then announced the winners.  Evie checked out tickets and by gosh, we had two winners, so we went home with two more steaks.  All I can say is when we return to the lake in January, we will be back.

7:25

That was our excitement for the night.  It's 7:00 AM at the moment, still dark out and 25º, with the threat of sunshine for the day.  I have yoga at 9:00, so I will have to hustle to get this done before I leave. I just noticed some ducks in front or our neighbors house looked strange.  When I got out my binoculars to look more closely, I realized they were standing on ice, that the lake had iced over last night.

A Raft Of Ducks On Thin Ice

Yesterday began with yoga, a good class, with three new young guys which was great.  After yoga, I got a coffee, a bad habit, then stopped at the car parts store because my new windshield wiper blades would not fit.  The gal realized that the clip on the blades was broken, got a new one and I was ready for the winter.  I then shopped at Wegman's for a few things, mostly mushrooms as I was going to make a mushroom soup when I got home.  I was home just before noon, wanted the soup for lunch, so Evie sweated the two pounds for me while I got the rest ready, shallots, garlic, broth, and seasonings. When the mushrooms were done, Evie put aside a cup, put the rest in the broth which had been simmering, for ten minutes.  I then got our the boat motor, blended the soup for about five minutes, added the mushrooms, and a cup of cream, and the soup was done.  We had it for lunch, yum, along with a schnitzel sandwich on fresh bread and watched the last Colbert Show.  It was a great way to end his season, as just about every guest from his past nine years showed up to sing a final song, "Till We Will Meet Again." Just about anyone who is famous showed up, from Henry Kissinger, to Charlie Rose and Katie Couric, Willie Nelson, Tom Brokaw, Ann Patchett, Doris Kearnes Goodwin, and Ken Burns, to Kareem Abdul Jabbar, Tom Friedman, Randy Newman, Army Chief of Staff Odierno, Yo Yo Ma and even UN Ambassador Samantha Powers and Fox News Mike Huckabee. And that's not even half of the group. It was a great ending to what had become a national institution.

The rest of the afternoon I read my John Wooden biography.  We are to the point in his life where they win one NCAA title after another and his lack of relating to his players is the major problem, as America is changing, Blacks are ascendant, the Counter Culture is in full bloom,  but John Wooden does not change. And. then, around 6:00 we headed off to the Viking Club.  Little did we know it would be a night to remember.

DEPT. OF SPECULATION: JENNY OFFILL

This is one of the five New York Times selections for outstanding fiction in 2014.  I couldn't agree less! I finished it only because it was so highly recommended, but I never really enjoyed it.  Maybe that says something about me, what I am not sure.

We never learn the narrator's name but know she's written a novel, is working on her second and is mostly 'unhappy.'  We see life through her eyes, in often disparate fragments, like thoughts that often move through our mind, often disconnected.  Generally, this is the story about a marriage, the deliciousness of falling in love, the marriage and what comes afterwards, a child, with it the great responsibility, and the marriage with all its transformations and realizations, about the institution, none of which most are prepared for---we learn to live with it.

She does not want things to change but they do.  The daughter comes, changing her life.  Her relationship with her husband inevitably changes and, unfortunately,  they grow apart.  And her unhappiness with her changed life, the responsibility of her daughter, daunting as well as precious, and her unfinished novel contribute, perhaps, to her husband's infidelity. They see a therapist and try to work things out, and the novel ends with their moving to the country, getting a dog, and things seem to have settled down.  She thinks maybe he 'loves me again,' as the novel ends.

The novels fragmentary style, its observations, its stream of consciousness, bothered me but at times it rang true, made me laugh, or think hard about what she said. Some observations are off the wall, others follow a chain of thought.  There's a truth to this novel, how an infant can be loved and disliked by the same person, its mother.  And marriage is never what you expect, the changes unexpected, the compromises hard to make.  Obviously, lots of readers loved this novel.  It just didn't grab me, more fragments and observations than story.  But if you want to learn about the institution of marriage, this just might be a good primer.  A typical fragment, that kind that salt and pepper the novel: “The Buddhists say there are 121 states of consciousness. Of these, only three involve misery or suffering. Most of us spend our time moving back and forth between these three.” 

How true for Offill's narrator. 

THE AMATEUR SPY: DAN FESPERMAN

Another spy novel, a first time read of a Fesperman novel, set in both Greece and the Middle East in the 1990's. The novel's protagonist, Freeman  Lockhart, has retired,  to a Greek Island, with his Bosnian wife, Mila.  On there first night in their new Greek home, three men, in masks, invade the home, take Freeman away to a safe house, and blackmail him into working for them for the next three months in Amman, Jordan, where they suspect an old friend of Freeman's, a Palestinian, is skimming money from charity to fund Palestinian causes.  They use an incident from Freeman's past in Africa, where he worked for AID and was coerced by a warlord into taking money but in a good cause.  He feels he has no choice but to do what he's told, goes to Amman, ends up working with his friend, Omar, and gets mixed up in the politics of various factions, like Hamas, the CIA, and the Israeli intelligence, Mossad.

A parallel story involves a well know Palestinian surgeon, an American citizen, Abbas Rahim and his wife Aliyah.  She begins to suspect that her husband is suffering from depression but discovers, through his email, that because of the death of their daughter, blamed on security measures against Arabs, he has become a terrorist and plans on setting off an underground bomb as various senators and other higher ups, attend a funeral of a well known politician.  In her attempts to foil his plot, bring back his sanity, she pretends to support him, and flies to Amman to meet her husband's contacts.  She realizes. however, she's there just to avoid complicating her husband's plot.  She then looks for ways of stopping the plot, gets imprisoned by her husband's group, but escapes, returns home and convinces her husband, as he is ready to set off the bomb, to stop. Whew!  Sounds like Homeland.

Meanwhile Freeman realizes that he's not working for the CIA, the US  but for Mossad, the Israelis. He tells Omar the truth, realizes that Omar, too, is being used by the Israelis.  Freeman meanwhile has met Aliyah, finds out the truth about her husband's plot, tries to convince the CIA about its truth but no one will listen to him, the final irony.  He ends up leaving Amman, and reunites with his wife in Boston.  They will not be going back to Greece soon we assume.  Readable but somewhat silly and coincidental.

Drab Is The New Gray

8:00

Raft Of Ducks, Early Morning

Up at 6:40, total darkness as I carefully walk outside on the snow covered walk to look for the paper, which has not yet arrived.  It's now 7:45, gun metal gray out, and I just noticed a fishing boat off the tip of Long Point.  It looks like the next three days might bring us some sun, as Helios returns in late, late autumn.

Thursday we were both out of sorts, mostly because I did not have yoga so, after breakfast with the boys, I was home all day, throwing off Evie's schedule, her mojo, her delight in having the house to herself for a couple of hours.  And I was flummoxed as well, not having a morning destination, something to do, getting out of the house for a couple of hours.  Interesting how we create our routines and when they are broken, neither one of us likes it.  Breakfast with the guys, our last where everyone will attend until next spring, was fun, as all five were present.  We left a nice card and large holiday tip for Julia, our patient waitress each Thursday.  Two guys head to Florida at the end of the month, the other four will be hanging around for winter, with brief respites in Florida.

So, what did we do all day.  Not much as Evie made no cookies, cleaned no cupboards, mostly wrote and sent Christmas cards on FELT, the website I mentioned the other day that sends your written note along with a photo.  Unfortunately, it's not a foolproof operation yet because they sent her an email, admitting that the addresses on a couple of her cards may not have printed clear enough and may not arrive.  Needless to say, Evie was not happy and she carried on a 'spirited exchange' with the administrators at FELT who seem to have nothing else to do other than respond immediately to Evie's emails.

Woodlawn/Victoria, Late Morning

Mid morning, I had to do something, so I bundled up, grabbed my walking poles, and went off along the lake front, past Fosters, then hiked up through the Woodlawn/Victoria woods, a light snow covering of the floor of fallen leaves and dead fall.  No tracks to follow, I blazed the trail over less than an inch of white, a pioneer in the dark woods.

Almost Winter at Kinney's Run

In the afternoon, we were back in our routine, a lunch of Evie's pizza, frozen from a couple of weeks ago, a tasty lunch and we watched Colbert and Stewart, and realized there was a Colbert marathon on Comedy Central, so we DVR-ed it for later viewing.  I then jumped back into my John Wooden book, a coach I admire but don't much like, and I took a delicious afternoon nap.  When I woke up, I decided to brave the heavy seas of Chautauqua Lake, so I got out my paddle, put on my life jacket and fleece, and went off to kayak on the dull lake.  I paddled past the campground, to Whitney Bay but it became windy and bitter, with a misty rain, so I turned around and headed home.  Not a great paddle but it's always fun to get out on the lake, whatever the weather.

Kayak Afternoon

While I kayaked, Evie sliced, pounded, and breaded some wiener schnitzel for dinner.  When I returned, we both relaxed with a glass of white wine and listened to POTUS radio on Sirius, a station we go to whenever NPR begins to repeat itself, which is more and more common, especially in the mornings.  Around 6:30, Evie fried the schnitzel, steamed the broccoli and made a salad, another one of our favorite dinners, reminding me of our days in Istanbul, my first meal in Vienna back in June, 1970.  We watched a fairly new movie, BEGIN AGAIN, the story of a young woman trying to make it in the music business in New York City. Derivative, reminiscent of both of School of Rock and Once and predictable, surprise, she makes it big, yet it was a amiable way to spend a Thursday night at the lake.  We ended the evening watching some of the old Colbert episodes before going up to read and sleep.

More Gray But One Swan A Swimming

7:33

Up at 7:00 and I have breakfast with the guys at 8:00.  A light snow fell over night but the sky looks the same, overcast and it's chilly out, 29º.  Mid morning, a chance of sun shine.  If so, I am kayaking, otherwise, possible snow flurries on and off during the day.

YO, Evie

Hanging at Woodlawn

Yesterday was foggy early, cooling off late in the day. Just as I was about to leave for yoga, I noticed a solitary Tundra swan on the lake.  Evie was able to get some great pictures of the swan, noticed a yellow mark on its feathers and realized it was a tag, # K47.

I had yoga at 10:00, five of us, a good class, then I got my coffee and was off to Home Depot to pick up an in house water filter, to see if we can keep the sand and dirt out of our pipes and tanks.  I also picked up new winter washer blades for the car before heading home in the light snow.  While I was gone, Evie made, yes, more cookies, even decorated some for packing and sending off.  Of course, I get to taste them, just to make sure they are right.

Snow Covered Door Map

Lunch was veggie soup and tuna sandwiches, as we watched Stewart and Colbert before I settled down on the couch to read but fell asleep for at least an hour.  Nothing like a good nap in mid afternoon to make your day.  It kept on snowing, icing up even the car so it was not the kind of weather for raking more twigs, so we just stayed inside and took it easy.

Enjoying A Wednesday Night At Forte

Around 6:00, despite the ice on the windshield, the light snow/sleet, we drove off to Jamestown to see if we could get a seat at Forte, one of the top thirteen small town restaurants in New York State.  I dropped Evie off because I could not find a parking space and after I parked the car, I walked in and she was sitting at the bar with an extra seat next to her.  We were lucky because only two opened up in the next hour and a half.  It's a comfortable bar, with great ambiance, just what we wanted on a snowy night in the city.  They have a bar special, and for twelve dollars, we got a beer, sirloin steak, Caesar salad, garlic mashed potatoes or fries, and toast, with olive oil for dipping.  Who could resist that.  We did not really strike up a conversation with any of the patrons until the last fifteen minutes when a guy walked in, visiting from Chicago and Evie ended up talking to him. The guy next to me sat down, ordered a beer, and was on his phone, surfing the internet for the next hour, taking time off only to say hello to his girlfriend who sat down next to him, pulled out her phone and started searching as well.  They said hardly a word to each other in the hour we sat next to them. The connected, modern couple?  Our steaks were decent, not great but the salad, fries and bread were all excellent, making it a good night at Forte. We left around 7:45 and the bar as well as all the tables were full.  Not bad for a small town like Jamestown on a Wednesday night.  It snowed lightly most of the way home but the roads were fine.

We then relaxed, watched some TV, and ate a few Christmas cookies before going up to bed.  John Wooden has just been hired by UCLA to resurrect their basketball program in 1949 so the book should start to really get interesting.  I had to laugh, as Wooden taught his players how to avoid blisters by putting vaseline on their feet, before the socks.  And he forbid water during practice, gave his players salt pills after.  We did both on the Ohio University basketball team in the early 1960's.  I hated those salt pills and now they say they were not good for you.  Surprise.