Category Archives: Travel

Sunday; Day Four of Vacation

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Day Four/Sunday of Vacation

Backed Tight and Ready to Go

Yesterday, after the service person said he would order a part and be back next week to fix the air conditioner, the refrigerator stopped working. Other than ice for the cooler this morning, it wasn’t an issue, because; if Yellowstone opened, we’d been notified the availability of food would be limited. We’d planned to pack the basics. Betsy cooked a fabulous fish dinner, trekked back to the store for ice and emptied the frig laughing about another thing gone wrong.

In the morning, everyone was up and dressed early. Luggage and beverages for four people fit in the trunk and we departed promptly at 7AM.

 About 65 miles later, we stopped in Laramie, Wyoming, for a McDonald’s breakfast. I’m a fan of their bacon, egg and cheese biscuit, and convinced everyone the bathrooms would be clean and the coffee hot.

The elevation increases along the way and the beige landscapes fades to green in response to the mountains dotting the distance.

There was nothing, but landscape for miles. I got a little nervous at the thought of running out of gas or having a flat tire. I imaged traveling in a covered wagon and being low on beans.

Lunch? Once again, McDonald’s and my original favorite . . .the fish sandwich.

We arrived in Jackson Hole on schedule, and checked in.

Cowboy Village

And We had a memorable meal at the Cowboy Bar.

The sun came out. Although we got drenched in a down pour returning to our cabins.

Things might just work out.

. . . just saying

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Day Three of Vacation

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Fort Collins

Friday morning, cool temperatures in Fort Collins were a welcome relief from the heat and humidity of Florida. We walked their dog, sipped coffee and read the newspaper while our friends were at the hospital.  Things went well.

Because Yellowstone was closed due to heavy rains and flooding, Betsy and I spent several hours cancelling and re-booking, hotel , dinner reservation and excursions a year in the making, and found accommodations in Jackson Hole and the Grand Tetons. The original plan was to drive to Jackson Hole, Wyoming, an eight hour trip. Spend one night. Then Grand Teton Hotel (one hour away) for one night, and three nights inside Yellowstone.

We worked side by side with two computer and two cell phones, hoping Yellowstone would open on Wednesday.

It was exhausting and . . . time to go shopping.

Money Magazine, named Fort Collins the “Best Place to Live” in the western United States among small cities in 2006. Old Town is its main core where the city’s history began. The Fort Collins Museum, which was created as the Pioneer Museum in 1941, retains the first settler’s hut and two other historic structures in its courtyard. The Avery House and a section of the old city center are on the National Register of Historic Places.

It is a beautiful college town with flowers everywhere.

Families sauntered about, their children splashed in street ponds and the dogs were well behaved.

. . . just saying

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See The USA Going To Jackson MS.

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Jackson, Mississippi

How many of you are done with not traveling, social distancing, and wearing a face mask? Me too! I am going to Jackson, Mississippi, virtually of course.

I can hear Reese Witherspoon and Joaquin Phoenix singing the song in Walk the Line and then Minny (Octavia Spencer) teaching Celia Foote (Jessica Chastin) how to fry chicken in Crisco The Help.

“[Crisco] ain’t just for frying. You ever get a sticky something stuck in your hair, like gum?… That’s right, Crisco. Spread this on a baby’s bottom, you won’t even know what diaper rash is…shoot, I seen ladies rub it under they eyes and on they husband’s scaly feet…Clean the goo from a price tag, take the squeak out a door hinge. Lights get cut off, stick a wick in it, and burn it like a candle…And after all that, it’ll still fry your chicken.”

The scene is memorable and Minnie says Crisco in such a way that made me want to see the area.

(FYI words appearing in blue are links you can click on. To tour Pensacola, click on the arrow.)

 

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The movie currently is under scrutiny for its recent popularity on Netflix. . . but I am tired of sitting at home.

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Author Eudora Wetly Museum

Jackson is the state capital and there are many sights to see, although like all cities the coronavirus pandemic has left its mark.

King Edward Hotel Lobby

King Edward Hotel and Lobby

The distance from my house to Jackson is728 miles and a 13-hour drive. So I’ll spend the night or a few days in Pensacola Beach, but the first stop is Gainesville. probably for lunch. Gainesville is the largest city in the region of North Central Florida and home of the University of Florida, the nation’s ninth-largest university campus by enrollment. What impressed me about the area is the trees. The aerial will give you a good view. There are some YouTube advertisements that you have to wait through. It is worth the wait if you want to travel virtually. Remember the benefits of virtual travel; it cost nothing, you are never stuck in traffic and is enviromentally smart.

Unlike the beaches on the east coast, the Gulf sand is pure white in color. The water smothers the shoreline with a butterfly kisses.  You may want to visit  Apalachicola  it is near by.

Please watch the above virtual tour. She does an excellent job of telling travelers about the area. Have a good time.

 

                    . . . . just saying

 

I look forward to your comments. You don’t need a WordPress account to comment. Two ways; in the comment box below or above the picture and to the right of the title there is an icon that will change color. Click on and you can comment. Ignore request for a name or username and write your comment. Press post or save.

If You Come To Florida

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If You Come To Florida

I feel like Ginger Rogers dancing backward in the arms of Fred Astaire trying to get my barrings. World War Two bombs are not being dropped, however, the coronavirus and police brutality are in the air. Even virtual travel seemed risky, so I searched through my photos of where I have been. If you ever get to Florida, come prepared to visit the Stetson Mansion.  

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The John B. Stetson House, built-in 1886 for the hat manufacturer and designed by George T. Person, an architect from Philadelphia, in 1886 is an historic home in Deland, Florida.

The Stetson Mansion is well known for its Holiday Home Tour and I have been there several times during the Christmas season.

Stetson Mansion ranked third in the nation by USA Today for the Top Ten Readers’ Choice Best Holiday Tours in 2019. Tours are scheduled for the year 2020 beginning in November. The pictures below were taken on an off holiday tour of the home and quilts were displayed.

20140802_102345Home owners, Michael and JT, lived there when I toured. They purchased the historic house in 2005. Their creativity shows in the details. On the tours I attended, JT gave the tour, walking us through the mansion. The website gives extensive information about its history and the renovation process in a drop-down menu. 

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The woodwork is amazing.  20140802_102731   Flooring, no room is exactly the same

20140802_102325The handiwork of the quilts was top notch.

20140802_102716The master bedroom wardrobe was transformed into a bathroom. The original doors conceal its whereabouts in the room.

20140802_102232This is a must-see restoration. The kitchen has all the conveniences necessary for catering and yet maintains the integrity of the home. The website tells you everything you would want to know.

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The Stetson Mansion is beautifully decorated for Christmas. Be sure not to miss it.

Other winners in the Top Ten Best Holiday Historic Home Tour were:

  1. Graceland – Memphis
  2. Wildwood Manor House – Toledo, Ohio
  3. The Stetson Mansion – Deland, Fla.
  4. Filoli Historic House and Garden – Woodside, Calif.
  5. Stan Hywet Hall & Gardens – Akron, Ohio
  6. Meadow Brook Hall – Rochester, Mich.
  7. Brucemore – Cedar Rapids, Iowa
  8. Glessner House – Chicago
  9. The Mount – Lenox, Mass.
  10. Webb Deane Stevens Museum – Wethersfield, Conn.

I have toured White House at Christmas twice and been to the Stetson Mansion several times but never to the other homes on the list.  Are any of these on your list?

      . . . just saying

See The USA In Your Chevrolet . . .But Not

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Virtual Travel

Fallingwater Tour

Fallingwater, a house designed by architect Frank Lloyd Wright in 1935, is located in Mill Run, Pennsylvania, and about an hour south of Pittsburgh. The house, the former weekend home for the Kaufmann family (owners of Kaufmann Department store),was designed and built partly over a waterfall.

Needless to say it is unique, well known and one of the places I would like to visit before I die. That’s why I’m going to Pittsburgh this week. It is now a museum and can be toured. . . BUT NOT. . .Because of the coronavirus.   The weather forecast sounds perfect; mild eighties, sunny and zero chance of rain. So I’m going, virtually of course.

I’ll explain.

The year 2020 was going to be a year of travel.  After all, if not now, when?

So, I ordered a Push Pin Travel Map.

Push Pin Travel Maps

The framed map came with a cheery post card from owners, Mike & Brenda, saying, “Hip hip horray!“ and to please use the push pins to “track past travels and dream of future ones,” I was excited. The television advertising jingle, See The USA in Your Chevrolet, sung by Dinah Shore, popped-in and stayed in my head. It was not going to be a Thelma and Louise adventure.

Then the coronavirus hit.

Pittsburgh is one of many places I’d like to visit. My husband asked. “Why?”

“Because I’ve never been there.”

The city sits at the junction of three rivers and includes several “Gilded Age” sites; Carnegie Museum of Natural History and Museum of Art, the Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens.I have always wanted to visit the city. I even know where I’ll stay.

The Renaissance Hotel.

 The Renaissance hosts Braddock’s Side Street Grill, specializing in American dishes, and Prelude Wine Bar. French-American cuisine is served at Braddock’s American Brasserie. The online pictures and description made me drool.

I believe our room has a view of the Ohio River. It’s way above my budget . . .But Not.

The Andy Warhol Museum is 2,650 feet from the Renaissance. The hotel is 15 minutes’ drive from the Pittsburgh Zoo and Aquarium. Clink on the link below to see more.

But, Pittsburgh is a thirteen hour drive from northern Florida. We’ll stop along the way.  and spend the night in Roanoke, Virginia. Someplace cheap or maybe not. Virtual travel is basically free. Even gas expenses has been waved.  Hopefully we’ll still be awake after dark to take in Roanoke’s well know attraction, a man made star on Mill Mountain.

Roanake, Va. Man-made Star Mill Mountain Park
Falls City Restaurant & Pub Mill Run, Pa
(Mill Mountain in Roanoke,  Falls City Pub in Mill Run and Kaufmann’s Dept. Store)

 

I enjoyed my virtual visit to Pittsburgh. Someday I’ll walk the streets, people watch and soak in the river view. And see more of the USA

.   .  .  .just saying

 

I look forward to your comments. You don’t need a WordPress account to do so.  There are two ways; in the comment box below or above the picture and to the right of the title there is an icon that will change color. Click on and you can comment. Ignore request for a name or username and write your comment. Press post or save. 

 

 

Not Really Italian Bolognese

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My husband’s cousin and her husband are in Florida visiting and will be coming for dinner. We have not seen them in ten years. I am making Bolognese Sauce, which might be bold since according to my husband, aka, Mr. Wonderful, I am not really Italian. He is right. My father’s side was Irish, English, German; my mother’s side all Irish on her mother’s side and all Italian on her father’s, at best, I am one-quarter Italian.

However, when my friend Marshal returned from Italy, where evidently all he ate was Rigatoni with Bolognese sauce; and now in withdrawal, I sent over a pot of sauce. He phoned to say, “Claudia, you make the best Bolognese sauce I have ever had, can you teach me?”

The next Sunday, I went to his house with my “Not Really Italian Bolognese Sauce” recipe written down in my head. Like many cooks I rarely follow a recipe exactly and make changes according to what is in the pantry.

Start with what is referenced as the trio; equal amounts of finely chopped onion, celery and carrot sauteed in pan lightly covered with olive oil. The pan needs to be hot enough that you hear or see a piece of onion sizzle. This takes about five minutes. Remove the trio from pan and brown two pounds of chop meat. Remove chop meat from pan, discard any liquid and brown or scorch at least 2 TBSP of tomato paste. You’ll smell the scorching.

Then add the trio back into the pan, de glaze the pan with ¼ cup white or red wine, add the sauce, meat, dried spices and whole garlic and simmer, for several hours. If you like thick sauce leave the pot cover off, for a thinner sauce leave the cover on.

Not Really Italian Tips

  • Use jar sauce, low in sugar or two cans of crushed tomatoes and or add chopped fresh tomatoes.
  • Add a whole carrot while sauce simmers then remove before serving if not sweet to your taste
  • Add whole garlic to sauce when simmering. I don’t chop or brown the garlic
  • 1 teaspoon dried Basil and 1 or 2 dried bay leafs, even dried basil will make the sauce bitter if you add too much
  • Red or White Wine whatever is open

. . . . Just Saying

Aspetta and The Italian Bulldozer

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Port of Civitavecchia

We will be traveling soon, a cruise on the Azamara Pursuit, to seven coastal cities around Italy. We will fly to Rome and board the cruise ship at Civitavecchia.

 Therefore, I have homework; a refresher course on geography and the weather, deciding what to pack and wear; and what to see at each port.

I have also found it helpful to read novels set in our travel location and previously read “Under the Tuscan Sun,” by Frances Mayes, and found one by my favorite author, Alexander McCall Smith. He is known for the “The #1 Ladies Detective Agency” series featured on PBS.

The title, “My Italian Bulldozer”, grabbed my attention, and when the main character, Paul, describes Tommy, the man his significant other ran off with, as a tattooed MESOMORPH, I knew Tommy had a fat neck before viewing the Kindle definition; a compact person with muscular body build.

Alexander McCall Smith transforms the mundane with insight, i.e. “the past has a bigger shadow than people believe,” and Paul takes off for Tuscany. I am hoping to  get an education about Italian wine.

Northern Italians are fair, and that is why my mother says I have blonde hair;  her side of the family, the De Salvo’s, were from there. My husband says I am not really Italian.

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Amalfi

The first port  will be Amalfi, then Sorrento,; Taormina, Brindisi, Trieste and final port, Venice.

Really Italian, or not, growing up, we thought we were.

sorrento

Sorrento

On Saturdays, my grandfather, Achilles DeSalvo, would take the train from the Bronx to  Long Island, wearing a sharkskin suit, a pressed handkerchief in his breast pocket, shoes with a spit shine, and hat, arriving around noon. After lunch he sat in the living room to read the newspaper and smoke a cigar. We gathered at his feet and watched his manicured hands unwrap the cigar then present the cigar band as a ring to one of us. Next, a Mounds bar was divided into four parts for all to share. After reading the newspaper, he phoned his bookie.

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Taormina

We called our grandfather Pop-Pop and and the only Italian that past his lips were the words aspetta, meaning wait and capisci, asking, do you understand? Other than his sharkskin suit, he wore, pajamas, or a guinea t-shirt with his trousers.  His father, Alfonso DeSalvo, came to America from Abruzzi, to be an American, owned a tailor shop in Manhattan, and English was spoken in their home.

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Trieste

I may not be that Italian, but have a real Italian name, Claudia Chianese. My husband’s family came from Naples, my best guess is from Casamiccola. There were many Antonio Chianeses sailing from Naples, or the equivalent of looking for John Smith in the USA, it has been difficult to know for sure.                                  

 

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Venice

Aspetta, our cruise will end in Venice, capisci?

. . . . just saying

Girlfriends Weekend

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Girlfriends Weekend

I recently flew to Boston for a girlfriends weekend and came home thinking I have to get away more. It was not just the good company but getting out in the world of Uber, Lyft, and Google Maps.

I did not know you could “Fly Dry” or that there are several head devices and hats to stimulate hair growth. The Delta Sky Magazine tucked inside the seat pocket (along with a vomit bag) advertised these products.

Having made a commitment to reading or rereading as many of the 100 books on the Great American Read list, I was reading Lois Lowry’s novel, “The Giver.” Last week I read “1984” and thought this a good choice to read next because both have similar themes, loss of individuality, but from contrasting societal views. “The Giver” takes place in a utopian world and “1984”,  a dystopian. Neither are happy reads, although there is no expectation of a happy ever after ending from Big Brother, “The Giver” leaves you guessing and me personally, annoyed.

So bored and grumpy over the ending of “The Giver” I thumbed through the airline magazine. Zach Posen, the designer of new uniforms for Delta’s attendants, was on the cover and I recognized him from Project Runway. Yes, I was a fan. The attendants on the plane wore the new plum colored uniforms that looked practical, comfortable, and wrinkle free. I was reading along when low and behold after the hair restoration advertisements, an ad for icon underwear similar to what I purchase for the trip appears. The tag line Fly Dry, caught my attention and I slipped a pair of cheaters on to read the smaller print, Pee-proof Underwear that keeps you dry on the fly.

I refrained from poking the person next to me and saying aloud, “When did peeing discretely in your pants, find a market?” Then thinking, perhaps it is a better option for those in the window seat reluctant to disturb fellow passengers, especially with the beverage cart in use. Thankfully, further investigation revealed the undergarment is for incontinence of three teaspoons or less.

Relieved I reclined my seat the one quarter of an inch allowable, closed my eyes, and savored the weekend trip.

thWe arrived late in the day, Saturday, but managed an ocean view meal that evening, at Renzo’s in Revere Beach. Sunday morning we viewed The Blaschka Glass Models of Plants and Flowers at the Harvard Museum  of Science, and then walked “The Secret Gardens of Cambridge” stopping for lunch at Toscana’s. In the evening, we went to Cheers Restaurant where no one knew our names, but Norm was there even though he was not. His presence was a cardboard cutout.

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The following morning we were up and out of the hotel early for a Duck Tour. The tour guide, an over-weight past prime super hero, wore a red letter S on his chest and swirled a blue cape. His humor and knowledge of Boston, made us forget it was raining. Lunch was at California Pizza, we did not have pizza. It was the closest restaurant in the rain. After lunch we walked two blocks to the Public Library, a beautiful museum in itself and then made the trek to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum to see missing artwork stolen in 1990 (you have to look for the empty frames). I say trek because, Google said it was a mile (the distance birds fly), it had to be a good three miles. I had a latte in the elegant Isabella Garden Café (white tablecloths) before mustering up the energy to climb the stairs and hunt for the missing pictures.IMG_0926

The finale of the trip was dinner in North End at Lucia on Hanover St. The meal was memorable.

I loved Boston and would return in a blink but the best was being with friends who have been friends for years. Two I have known since moving to Newton, N.J. in 1981 so that gives us 37 years of friendship. My oldest friend I met when we were thirteen. She is not older I have simply know her the longest, 57 years. Yikes! I am very blessed.

Year to date I am flying dry on my own, but you never know.

                           .  .   .   .  just saying

 

https://hmnh.harvard.edu/glass-flowers

https://view.imirus.com/209/document/12910/page/1

https://www.iconundies.com/

Mr. Mouse and Beach Street

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Daytona is famous for the beach, racing, and Bike Week ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­. Water in shades of blue turquoise continue to roll across the flat beach front  that initially attracted John D. Rockefeller and Henry Ford to race cars here and Bike Week is now world famous however, Daytona is simply a nice small town where I discovered and fell in love with Mr. Mouse.

My sister, Mel and her friend, Ellen, came to escape single digit temperatures in the North and had visited Flagler Beach, New Smyrna, and CiCi and Hyatt Browns Art Museum, so I suggested lunch at the Dancing Avocado on Beach Street in Daytona. Having been there before, I knew there was shaded outdoor seating.


Although reports that Homeless plague the area discouraging shopping, I frequently attend a writers group at The City Island Library and have not experienced problems. Beach Street is quite nice and home of the famous Angell & Phelps Chocolate Factory, as well as my favorite Used Book Store, Abraxas.

Parking is easy to find, and free.

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A recent Daytona Beach News Journal article by Mark Lane reminisces about the area in the 1960s and details his family’s arrival in 1962 as engineers for General Electronics Apollo Support Program. Lane talks about the music scene, segregation (“He didn’t share a classroom with black kids until seventh grade”), and Beach Street as the place to shop.

So we headed to Beach Street and the Dancing Avocado.

As we drove, I explained to Mel and Ellen that although we were driving on Beach Street they would not be looking at the Atlantic Ocean. The view was of the Halifax River.

Mel asks, “So where is River Road?”

I responded, “ The east side of the Halifax is called River Road, lots of big expensive houses and part of The Loop.  My guess is Floridians went to the beach along the river because back then, there was no bridge to the Oceanside.”

“Really?” Mel was amazed.

It was a cool fifty-five degrees so we sat inside at the Dancing Avocado and selected Veggie Burgers and Symphony salads made with carrot curls, sprouts and sunflower seeds.

Afterwards, we perused the shops and I confessed my search for a vintage cookie jar. Something to fill in an empty counter top space, as we entered “Sisters Décor & More.”

13321656_1709493119301735_5649400088070015355_nThe store was stacked with floor to ceiling shelving and cluttered with previously owned items. Ellen spotted an Old Mother Hubbard jar and drew my attention saying, “She’s kind of nice.”

I moved closer for a better view, and responded lackadaisically, “She doesn’t do anything for me. I don’t know what I’m looking, I’ll know when I see it,” and turned around.

In the corner, his nose pointing towards me was Mr. Mouse.

There was no discussion, no debate. He was perfect  I loved his extremely large ears, his small beady eyes and spidery whiskers.

At home, Mr. Wonderful was unimpressed with my new purchase, not even the $19 price tag! He thought his ears too big, I thought them just right, although he believed an open stack of saltines would nestle easily in its long snout.

I love Mr. Mouse’s small beady eyes and spidery whiskers, and the way he sits on the counter oozing personality.  Mr. Wonderful . . . not so much and roams the house saying, “Eek, eek! I see a mouse.”

. . . . just saying

Mr. Wonderful, aka, Bob is my husband of 46 years.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hobnobbing and Sailing

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Some would say I am MIA, not having published a blog post since January. I apologize. We did move and I could use unpacking and decorating the new hut as an excuse. But the truth is, I am struggling creatively. In the past an obscure word or thought would dance in my head until I put pencil to paper. Recently I have only pondered what to eat for lunch and how to get a better night’s sleep.

This morning however, the word hobnob and music from Gilligan’s Island interrupt my thoughts. While Charlie Rose on CBS This Morning asks questions about Google and mobile websites, I hum  “What Shall We Do With the Drunken Sailor?” When Gayle King comments about a lost wedding band returned to a Boston marathoner I blank out, and say hobnob aloud.

You see, I have been hobnobbing. To be more specific, I just returned from a Road Scholar trip called, “Day Sailing for Beginners.” And yes, I feel like I am swaying on land and extremely dizzy when bending over.

Road Scholar educational adventures are conducted by Elderhostel, a not for profit world leader in lifelong learning. The trip description read, “Have you always wanted to experience the freedom and pleasure of sailing? Then this small-group program is for you.” The adventure included five days of sailing in Boca Ciega Bay (St. Petersbury, Florida), three meals a day and lodging for $935. A bargain! I stopped reading and mailed my check. Realizing “learning” to sail, not sailing, was the trip focus, while reviewing the trip itinerary and recommended reading list. I was still game. What the heck, I earned a knot-tying badge as a Brownie and know how to swim.

The small group of nineteen consisted of twelve women and seven men. The refrain “Ear-ly in the morning,” from the song, intrudes my thoughts as I now write, and recall the trip orientation and dinner on Sunday evening.

There were three couples, of which one were in their eighties and married sixty-five years. Seven of the participants were from Florida, four from New York and the rest scattered between Alabama, Indiana, Massachusetts, Tennessee, Texas, and Vermont.

Not everyone was retired. Their backgrounds were eclectic, varying from kindergarten teacher, geophysicist, law professor, computer programmer, and commercial farmer. Many had traveled extensively and lived in other countries. Several enjoy ballroom dancing. Two disclosed they had built sailboats in their youth then reluctantly admitted the boats sank.

We all lacked sailing experience when we entered the lecture room at Eckerd College,  to met, the lead instructor. He earned his facial wrinkles not by smiling but from numerous sailing certifications and dedication to the sea. Attractive, although, his nose was clearly designed to hold glasses on his face, his full head of white hair streaked with yellow suggested he was older than he looked. He had skinny knees and I speculated his mustache had been penciled on after shaving. He shut the lecture room door quickly, and a no-nonsense approach sprinkled with infinite patience was quietly revealed. He stood alongside a podium, a smart-board marker in his hand and said, “I am Richard, your Captain.”

Learning to sail was a wonderful experience. The learning curve was high however, and on Wednesday, I vowed to either do more new learning or abandon all learning that is new completely when my brain twisted Jibe and Gybing. That night a fellow crewmember stayed up late replacing the words in “What Shall We Do With the Drunken Sailor,” with nautical terminology.

A Brit, she shared her, “Sea Shanty in Honor of the Inestimable Captain Richard,” in the morning, and instructed the group to repeat each line three times then follow with the refrain “Ear-ly in the morning.”

Reef him to the boon vang, til he’s bowlined
Moor him to the jib sheet til he’s cleated
Winch him in the pulpit til he’s port tacked

There are numerous other stanzas calling for wrapping, lashing, tying, and dragging Captain Richard about. The group loved her rendition and ignored the implication of  bondage.

I am still dizzy when bending over and debating if it is a side effect of new learning or a brain tumor. I have doctor’s apppointment next week.

. . . . just saying