Boxing Day 2018

Christmas has come and gone and we are in the final countdown to the end of 2018, which for the most part has been swell, if you don’t count Cindy smashing her wrist and fracturing her foot! We are looking forward to a quiet New Year’s Eve and day here in Brussels where the weather has been particularly lovely, sunny but cold as you would expect for this time of year.

I’m not big on generalizing things about countries or the people that inhabit them, but I’ll do a broad brush for you on Belgium. The food is wonderful, every bit as good as France and in some cases better. The portions are enormous so you need to share lots of things or run the risk of not cleaning your plate, which seems to upset the Belgians. The service is really quite terrible at most restaurants. They are slow to take orders, the wait for food is very long (although they do deliver the food hot), they seldom if ever check to see if you need anything, and overall are just plain lackadaisical. The prices are horrible, the worst we have seen in Europe. Not sure why - perhaps because of labor and unions, perhaps taxation, perhaps they make more here and can charge more - whatever the reason, we don’t like it. Gone are the walks to find a place for lunch with two courses and wine for fourteen Euros as we do in Paris. Here a simple lunch of mussels and fries (mussels in Brussels is a must!) will set you back twenty-five euros with a glass of wine costing another five. We are fortunate to be staying with our daughter-in-law Meagan, whose lovely apartment is well equipped for me to cook and that suits us all quite well. 

Everyone knows Brugge (Bruges) in Belgium - and with good reason - but for our money, Ghent is the place to go. First of all it is a real city and not just a tourist town, and it also has some of the most beautiful architecture and canal system we have ever seen. Hours of walking are rewarded with stunning views of towering castles, cathedrals and old canal-side homes of the old wealth of Ghent. We spent three days in Brugge and two in Ghent and will go back to Ghent again, having said our final goodbye to Brugge.

Both Brugge and Ghent have fantastic Christmas Markets but here in Brussels there are at least three of them within walking distance and they are grand affairs. We have been wandering all of them and ended in a small one on Christmas Eve to have a glass of Champagne and watch all the families strolling about.  They close at six thirty in the evening on Christmas Eve and when I say close, I mean that at six thirty they turn off the lights to make sure everyone understands that it is time to go home. We did and we left!  We had a small Christmas Eve dinner of patés, cheeses, breads and fresh vegetables.  I sliced some potatoes and then browned them in butter and used them as small edible plates for spoonfuls of rillettes on some and smoked salmon on others. Quite lovely with the Champagne, Muscadet and Beaujolais that we had selected for our meal.

Tomorrow night Meagan has invited some of her friends that live in the building for dinner. I made a cassoulet a few days ago and have been letting it ‘develop’ so that by tomorrow when I heat it up and add the garlic/panko crumb crust to the top, it should be spectacular. I found some Cahors wine, which is a must for accompanying this dish so it will be as authentic an evening as I can make it.

Hope your holidays were bright and the New Year brings you joy.  Cindy and Wm

Christmas Luncheon

Birthday in Paris

Ah, Paris in the springtime.  Oops, it’s winter!  We knew it would be cool but the reality was about 10 degrees cooler than expected, with a lovely “breeze” to boot.  But we had lots of layers and managed to walk miles and miles each day all bundled up.  I had been dreaming of a birthday lunch at Le Train Bleu in the Gare de Lyon, a restaurant we have enjoyed several times over the years.  Our last visit was nearly 10 years ago so there was a bit of trepidation along the lines of “you can’t go home again” - would it be as good as we remembered?  A resounding OUI is the answer - everything about the experience was wonderful.  Well, except for the detours we managed to take on the cold walk there and back - but heck, maps are overrated.  

The restaurant itself is worth a visit with all the stunning murals on the walls and ceiling.  We had been told that it was recently sold to another family and we were thrilled to see that the old traditional trolleys, thick linens, heavy silver, and beautiful crystal glassware remain.  I wanted gigot d’agneau served from the trolley, and when the time came they rolled the classy cart over to our table and proceeded to carve a generous portion of rare delicious leg of lamb.  The scalloped potatoes on the side were fabulous too.  But I digress! - wait ‘til you read about the amuse-bouche and our first courses.  To get us started they brought us a tiny dish of smoked salmon purée with a bit of fresh fennel and a caper.  Cindy ordered the set menu and started with the ravioli with mushrooms, which was far fancier than it sounds - tiny little squares stuffed with cheese and served with whole porcini in a delicious cream broth.  

My first course looked like a stunning chocolate dessert but it was actually a delectable stack of duck liver, gizzards, gelée, and artichoke - words can’t quite describe it so please open the photo.  Afterwards I tucked into the lamb and Cindy had pike quenelles.  We finished with a cheese course and a small dessert selection called café gourmand which is rather normal (and better than wonderful) dessert in France that includes a cup of espresso with small rich desserts, in this case a chocolate pot de crême, a tiny lemon meringue tart, and a baby baba au rhum with more rum than you can imagine - it came in a little bitty plastic ball, to be squeezed onto the cake. And squeeze I did. 

The other diners seemed to be about half locals and half travelers on their way to catch a train.  The age range was interesting - families with very small children and older couples even older than us, with every age in between.  Everyone seemed to be having a very wonderful time, as were we.  Wow what a birthday!

Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis 

For most of my adult life those people that knew both my mother and me, always would say how much I looked like her.  Oh, you have your mother’s legs, hair, eyes, etc. I never minded it at all because my mother was a handsome woman with dancer’s legs, and if it was a choice between having my mother’s features or my father’s, I was pleased with the former.  But that was then and since my mid-sixties, I have steadily begun to metamorphose into my father. 

Gone is the sleek runner’s body, replaced with the fire hydrant look that was my father’s profile. While I still have hair, if you see me in a baseball cap and my green windbreaker, you would  swear that my dad was still with us. I find myself getting up in the morning and instead of jumping out of bed to seize the day, I stand there and do the ‘Pop checklist’ letting my brain see if everything is working and all the parts are in the right place.  I like to think that I’m combining the best of all possible worlds as I glide between parental characteristics.

Speaking of change, it is coming down to the wire as to whether we get out of here before a big snow.  While we were in Florida after the cruise, it snowed quite a bit here but by the time we got home it was all gone. Yesterday I mowed the lawn, mostly just to mulch all the leaves that had covered the yard, so at least the grass is ready for snow even if I’m not.  The forecast for the next two days is wonderful, if cold, so I’m off the hook on snow, unlike our friends in Greensboro, NC which has more than they could ever need.

Our Yellow Vests are packed and we are ready for our arrival in Paris on Thursday.  Hoping they’ll not tear gas Le Train Bleu on Saturday since we’ll be having a birthday luncheon there and I can’t think of a wine that pairs well with tear gas!

Bonne Chance et Joyeux Noël,  Cindy and Wm 

Our Love is Here to Stay

Reality Hits

It is a cold, wet and miserable December 1st here in West Virginia. I have Cindy, a fire in the fireplace, and memories of a marvelous trip across the Atlantic to keep me warm and help me forget the reality of now. For twenty-one delicious days I didn’t make a bed, cook a meal, shop for food, do laundry (although Cindy did on the ship) or wash a dish; I had people!

We were very lucky with weather across the Atlantic on the Crystal Serenity. With the exception of the first two days when the seas were somewhat rough and high, the bulk of the seven-day crossing to St. Thomas was smooth, warm, and delightful. On the evening of the second night there was a classical pianist whom we had heard on the last cruise with Crystal. He is fantastic and we were looking forward to his concert. Despite the fact that they had sandbagged the legs of his grand piano to minimize motion, there were several times as he was playing that the piano would move away from him a few inches due to the rocking of the ship. He would stretch to keep his fingers on the keys and then the piano would roll back to him and he had to once more adjust, without missing a note. He was professional and funny in that he turned it into a game, much like Victor Borge would have done. We enjoyed it immensely (his playing, not the piano rolling around).

The journey was wonderful and we easily fell into a ‘schedule’ that included lots of exercise in the morning, followed by coffee and fruit and then more walking the decks. Cindy was fierce in her commitment to keep her PT schedule at least 3 times per day (the orthopedist was mightily impressed with her progress upon our return). If I reached my goal of 10,000 steps before noon, I would reward myself with a glass of Champagne before cleaning up and dressing for lunch. After lunch Cindy would attend art class - where she made all kinds of lovely tiles, cards and colorful envelopes - while I walked the deck.  We would meet for a nap at four, walk together at five, and then proceed to dress for cocktails at seven and dinner and eight-something. After dinner we would dance for a few hours - or longer if the Disco was jumping - and then sleep, wake up and repeat.

The food, wine and service were uniformly wonderful, with some highlights in their Italian and Asian specialty restaurants. We are not buffet people so most of the time we would eat lunch and dinner in the restaurant, which was always half empty for lunch since most of the guests seemed to enjoy eating at other venues. The first night we asked for a table for two and since most everyone was eating in the restaurant the first night, we were seated about six inches from another two-top, which was six inches from a third table for two on the window. The couple at the middle table just insisted on being chatty and introducing us to the others they had just met.  If it hadn’t been so absurd, I’m sure we would have found it horrible but we outlasted them all by lingering over Champagne before ordering and they finally disappeared. The next night I slipped the Maître d’ a few Sees Lollipops and told him of our plight with our new “friends” and mentioned we didn’t need any more of them - and from then on we were always seated at a table for four by the window with no one around us. (It didn’t hurt that we had contributed $200 to the Crew Morale Fund, something that seemed to pop up every time they checked our room number.)

We chose this cruise because it had a Big Band theme and they had a marvelous sixteen piece big band that played all of our favorites and had outstanding musicians, all of whom seemed to be genuinely happy to be there.  They also had a competitive Bridge theme and there were two hundred passengers who were deeply, deeply involved. We would see them in the morning lined up for coffee before the lectures and tournaments that began at ten.  We would see some of them at lunch, hunched over their sheets of whatever, talking about how to bid and things like that. Most evenings they would have more games or lectures, and oh my goodness how earnest they all seemed to be.  Give me dancing anytime!

Had a day in St. Thomas and we got off the ship just to walk on dry land for a bit and then right back to our routine.  The last two days were smooth sailing and we were soon off the ship and in a HUGE GMC Suburban (dubbed The Beast) that seemingly slept six, for the drive from Ft. Lauderdale to Punta Gorda where we stayed for two days and visited the kids for Thanksgiving. On the day after Thanksgiving we had lunch at a lovely country club in Sarasota courtesy of our dear friends Barbara and Rodney who also invited our friend, now their friend, Sharyn. We had all lived and worked in Europe, Barbara and Sharyn for the Department of Defense Dependents’ Schools and Cindy, Rodney and I with Boston University.  It was a delightful afternoon filled with great memories.  All too soon we mounted The Beast and headed to Tampa Airport where I spent the better part of twenty minutes filling it with gas!!

We are now getting organized for our next excursion to Europe, departing on the 12th and returning March 1st. I’m determined to avoid snow!

Best wishes, Cindy and Wm

On the verge of seventy-three

Slipped on my Tux, a tad snug but still fits. Red leather bow tie, red socks, red silk square and gold cuff links and my highly polished dancing shoes round out the ensemble. With the most beautiful lady on the ship on my arm, we head down to cocktails at seven. A find supper of well chilled Champagne, oysters and caviar and a sip or two of Sancerre and we are ready for an evening of dancing to the big band sound in the ballroom. After two hours we think we are ready for a night cap and bed but enroute are lured to the sound of the disco and the fact that we can turn the clock back an hour, so we use our new found time dancing with the crowd. Life is sweet.  

Love Lost in Lisbon

I met her in the southern climes. She was just sitting there all by herself when I slowly passed her by, not really thinking of wanting any relationship. I hadn’t gotten very far when I had the urge to go and take another look. The sun was shining on her and she seemed so poised and comfortable, her cream colored silk ribbon wrapped around her like a goddess ascending from some fairy tale. It was obvious that we wanted each other and it was inevitable that she would come home with me.  I didn’t expect the relationship to last ten years, but it did and it was wonderful.  She was always with me when we traveled to warm and sunny countries but she always wanted to stay at home when I went into the cold.

We had recently had some issues - after ten years that is to be expected - but still we were inseparable, until we were in Lisbon.  There we decided to take a break from one another and while I had suggested we part in Florida at the end of the trip so that I could go and visit periodically, she had other ideas - and as usual, she prevailed.

If you are ever in Lisbon and get into a taxi where a sweet driver with a five day beard is wearing a beautiful straw fedora with a silk cream colored ribbon around her crown, please say hello to her and let her know that I miss her. 

Back in Lisbon

We arrived back in Lisbon at 12:55 today. Why is the time important?  We had to have the car back by 13:00 or pay a huge fine, more than just one additional day of rental. We drove 300 km on really lovely highways with almost no traffic until reaching the outskirts of Lisbon. Average speed was just about 150 km per hour, or slightly less than 100 mph.  I do enjoy a nice Beamer now and then!

Tavira is a lovely city and we enjoyed long walks along the salt flats as well as visits to the market filled with fish, meat, vegetables and all manner of local salt. However, we would never consider returning due to the fact that the Brits have taken over this little town as well as almost all the others in the Algarve. Local cultures can’t compete with hordes of Brits so they just adjust to keep the money flowing. All of the menus are in English; you can ask for one in Portuguese but they have to look for it. All of the conversations are in English; the Brits of course will not make any attempt to speak Portuguese so the locals all speak English. Whereas in other parts of Portugal restaurants will not open until 19:30, they are open at 17:30 in the Algarve. Since they have to cater to the lowest common denominator, the quality of the food and service can suffer.  Our hotel, which we now know caters to Brits, had a breakfast that you could have had in Surrey, London, Manchester or Liverpool.  Lukewarm eggs, lukewarm greasy bacon, baked beans, blood sausage, red sausage, fried bread and lukewarm broiled tomatoes, all served buffet style so you had to make sure you were not trampled as they brought out a new item!! We made the most of it but we were very happy to depart - and as I said, we’ll not go to that part of Portugal again.

We had asked the staff at our wonderful hotel in Évora the best way to drive to Tavira and they told us the scenic route was just lovely.  What they really meant to say was that the scenic route was lovely for the passenger!  Half of the journey was nothing more than switchbacks and slow speeds.  They have an ingenious system for slowing down cars as they approach little villages, of which there are fourteen. They post the approaching speed which is 50 kph, and if you are going any faster there is a red light that comes on and stops you dead.  Took me two villages to figure this out and after that it was easy, but slow. Cindy assures me that we went through really cool countryside with lakes and forests and all manner of picturesque vistas.  I’ll take her word for it.

As you approach Lisbon you go over a really interesting bridge known as the 25 de April bridge, which looks a lot like the Golden Gate.  As we crossed we could see our ship in the cruise port, which was very reassuring. We depart tomorrow and will have seven days at sea, one day in St. Thomas and two more sea days arriving in Ft. Lauderdale the day before Thanksgiving.  We’ll rent a car and drive to North Port to have Thanksgiving with the kids and grandkids. On Black Friday, we’ll meet dear friends from our Germany days for lunch before heading back to the Tampa airport. So, we may be out of touch for awhile and we hope that all is well with everyone. Best wishes, Cindy and Wm

PS. In parts of Portugal, particularly Évora, restaurants offer small plates of starters that already are on the tables when you arrive for dinner.  We found that to be very appealing and noticed that all the diners around us had the same offerings and were eating with gusto, so we did the same.  I mentioned some of these in the previous blog, e.g., shredded rabbit in vinaigrette. At the time I had noticed that some of the starters were also listed on the menu with prices alongside, but thought nothing of it.

Until the next evening at a different restaurant in Évora - same drill, lovely offerings on the table already - but the waiter explained that these were optional and we would pay only for the ones we ate. Well didn’t we feel like rubes!!!  This time we carefully pointed out the ones we wanted (including the best octopus salad ever) and dismissed the ones we didn’t - e.g., a kind of sausage that looked too much like pepperoni.  The bill reflected our wise choices - and come to think of it the previous night’s bill had reflected the opposite!  

We usually combine our names and refer to ourselves as the Embees, but at times like this we are definitely the Dumbees. 

Links related to our latest adventures: 

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tavira

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Algarve

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/25_de_Abril_Bridge

Evora, Portugal

The Avis rental car office was right around the corner from our hotel, so on my morning walk I stopped by to let them know we would pick up the car at 2 pm. The ever so friendly staffer told me that they close for lunch from 1 to 3 pm so I needed to pick up the car before or after lunch. While mildly inconvenient, I really like the idea of business stopping for a few hours allowing everyone a long lunch break. After all of the formalities, we were in the car and ready to go, having been assured that the GPS was programmed in English.  It was not and of course there was no one there at 1:05 to assist so we just took off, having again been reassured by hotel staff that you can’t miss the A2.  But we did!  As we were heading to the west coast toward Sintra we realized we were going the wrong way so found a way to turn around and finally got the Beamer heading east.  Yes, Avis gave us a BMW.

It was an easy and quick trip filled with marvelous sights. We noticed huge nests in the electrical towers and thought perhaps they were eagles, but there were too many of them. We then caught sight of one stork and then more storks and realized that we were in the middle of a stork high rise neighborhood. It was really cool to see them in the wild.  It seems they live and nest here in the spring and summer and most have already headed south to Africa for the winter. After the stork sighting we started to enter cork country, and there before our eyes were acres of cork trees, some having recently been stripped of their bark, leaving a 10-foot swath of the red growth of new bark around the tree about three feet up from the ground. I’ve taught all about cork during my wine lectures and have seen all the pictures, but to be right there in the middle of these trees was simply grand. I think they are the only trees where you can strip the bark (every nine years) without damaging the tree, thus one tree can produce tons of cork during its long life.

We approached Évora in the same manner that we left the one in Lisbon, incorrectly!  Somehow we entered the walled city a tad early requiring us to basically circumnavigate the entire town before figuring out the proper way to get there. We finally pulled into the hotel courtyard and Cindy went in to find out where they wanted us to park. She came out with a young man who took our bags, passports, and car keys and proceeded to invite us into the sitting room where he brought me a cold wine wine from the region and an espresso for Cindy. He told us all about the hotel and the best restaurants in town, then showed us a map that they had designed highlighting the best walking routes to all the museums, monuments, churches and restaurants. It was an unexpected treat to have someone who is very proud of his city take the time to orient us so that we had our bearings right away.  The only other time we remember getting such a warm and personal (and detailed) welcome was when we arrived at the tent hotel prior to our safari in S. Africa.  In that case the orientation was more than necessary, while this time it was just plain fun.

After unpacking we hit most of the sights during a delightful three hour walk.  This is an old city that had already been here for awhile before the Romans arrived in the first century AD. They left their mark, as they always did, and we saw the remains of a temple, baths, and roads, much of which seem to be the original cobbles. The Moors were here and they too left an architectural legacy that can still be seen in old churches and buildings. They also destroyed the wine production in the area for 800 years but did introduce some fun fruits and olives, so all is well.

We returned to our room - which is really an apartment with a living room, kitchen, modern bath and bedroom, all tastefully decorated - and proceeded to take a very short nap before dressing for dinner.  Our host at the hotel had recommended a restaurant known for its roasted goat, which we adore. In keeping with the day’s theme of where the hell are we? we proceeded to get lost as we walked to the restaurant, which is very easy to do here, especially in the dark and especially when you have left your map in the hotel. The walk was supposed to take ten minutes but we were able to do it in thirty and it would have been even longer without the kindness of strangers who went out of their way to guide us.

We were richly rewarded with an exceptional meal.  Upon entering the small restaurant we were taken to our table which already had been set up with bread, a bowl of fabulous olives, plates of shredded rabbit in a light vinegar sauce, sautéed mushrooms, a tomato and cucumber salad, and a small bowl of warm cheese with fresh oregano. We had a fantastic young waiter who helped us select wines and order our dinner. I was a bit unsure of which wines to order so we started with a half bottle of white that turned out to be delicious - luckily a 2nd half bottle was readily available, as was a half bottle of rich local red which complimented the 

The portions are huge in Portugal, especially here in the countryside, so at the waiter’s recommendation we had two orders of calamari in garlic and herbs and then shared the goat. The fish was so tender that I thought it was tofu shaped like calamari, but my goodness was it flavorful. Then out came a large earthenware casserole with a perfectly roasted quarter of baby goat surrounded by browned potatoes and onions - and oh yes, garlic!  We were in heaven. The service was so friendly and professional and it was fun to watch the other tables getting heaping helpings of whole fish, pork and clams, a specialty of the area, and enormous steaks. Everyone was in a great mood which added to the festive nature of the meal. We were stuffed but our waiter had other plans for us and brought out some stewed quince and walnuts (Moorish influence) and a fruit confit with two Ritz crackers. We both thought it was delicious and we guessed that the fruit might be crab apple or guava, but to our great amazement we were told that it was tomato!  A fabulous way to end a fabulous dinner.

Lisbon at last!

The flight from Washington to Casablanca went just fine. Royal Air Maroc uses a 787 and the business class was only half full so service was friendly, prompt and efficient, which everyone appreciated since the flight was scheduled to depart at 22:15 and was delayed by almost an hour. We had a quick glass or two of Champagne, a light meal and a cognac and slept for five of the seven hour flight. 

Morocco was not as fun or interesting as it might have been, but we were only in the airport of course so we shouldn’t judge too harshly. Upon arrival it was the usual lines at security where we had to practically undress to get through. Once out of the restricted area we were able to access their Casablanca lounge, which was really disappointing. We found the last two seats and I was able to queue up for the coffee machine which actually made a decent espresso-like drink.  Other than that, there was nothing but noise, clutter and odors, not the good kind either

Our connecting flight was an hour late on departure which gave us more than enough time to decide never to transit in Casablanca again. It is a very disordered airport, very hot and crowded and lacking character. Could have been anywhere in the world, not a hint of local color, not good for an airport.  Suddenly we were acutely missing the airport in Bahrain, which was a joy to walk around (lots of local color) and had minimal security as well as a lovely lounge. Truly. We had endless lines while waiting to board in Casablanca since they couldn’t seem to get everyone organized.  We finally departed and we were happy to say a long goodbye to Casablanca ... at least we’ll always have Paris.

We finally arrived in Lisbon after a bit of excitement on our arrival from Casablanca.  I knew something was wrong when they parked the plane at a very remote location near the military zone. Instead of a small bus for the first class customers, we were all herded onto big buses and when they were all filled we were taken in a caravan to a part of the terminal, all the time under the watchful eye of the Policia!  Then every single passenger from the full 737 was examined by two security people, checking our passports and air tickets.  They found two people they held in a separate area while we were waiting, not sure how many they eventually found, but obviously they had been tipped off. Lesson learned: Never fly from a known terrorist country to Europe!!

We didn’t get to the Intercontinental Hotel until about 4pm.  We were tired and it was cold and windy, but I took a one hour walk and Cindy rested for a bit until we descended on the new and beautiful club.  Ice cold Champagne did much to get us refreshed but we were in no mood for wandering the city for dinner we were too tired). Given that there was a big military parade scheduled for Sunday with the roads already closed, making traffic a nightmare, we just stayed in the hotel and had a delightful dinner.

When we entered the dining room we were asked for our room number by the maître d’ - who was impressed since we had been upgraded to a bi-level suite on the top floor of the hotel. There was a table of five Chinese tourists seated right by the entry and they seemed to perk up when he said that our room was his favorite suite other than the big one where Obama and his daughter had stayed the week before.  I mention this only because as I was returning from a trip to the loo, one of the Chinese women took my picture!!  They must have thought we were big shots and wanted to make sure to capture the moment - and no doubt show their friends in case anyone recognized me.  Sorry to disappoint! 

We both slept the sleep of the innocent and awoke totally refreshed.  Cindy hit the torture room (gym) and I walked in the huge park across the street which was filled with military equipment and personnel marshaling for the parade which was to start in two hours.  The night before I had seen several aircraft practicing flyovers, which was cool.  By the time we got our act together to get out of the hotel, the parade was almost over but we got to see everything (so many tanks, so many guns!) as they returned to the marshaling area near us. 

We walked some more and at the high point of the hill we were able to see all of Lisbon laid out before us with the River Tejo at the end of the Main Street.  We watched as dark clouds of rain began to rush in from the Atlantic, being glad that the rain did not ruin the annual parade. We were safe, dry and warm as the storm hit and had a cup of coffee and snacks in the lounge before heading up for a restorative nap. 

Obrigado,  Cindy and Wm

Last Flight to Casablanca

It has been a busy day packing for our trip to Casablanca. Not sure we’ll get out of Casablanca so we will pack light and hope for the best.  We’ve been told there are two exit visas at Rick’s Café Américain but with little money we’ll have to rely on dumb luck and Cindy’s charm. If we get the visas, we’ll be able to get on the last flight to Lisbon and from there a ship to the United States.   Must go, the last flight to Casablanca leaves in three hours.  I hope there will be more later, until then just click below:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vNMEktJDArA

Extended version here for those that love Casablanca

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rEWaqUVac3M

Trick or Treat

Some of you may have heard reports of pigs flying and hell freezing over.  These are not Halloween stories nor do they portend the end of being, it is just a manifestation of the unthinkable:  We purchased a microwave!  After thousands of rather successful meal preparations without using a microwave, we finally decided to get an entry level unit to assist us with simple tasks such as heating leftovers, cooking potatoes quickly, and making dang good popcorn. I’m sure we’ll use it more as we become more adventurous, but for the time being we are in learning mode.

Cindy is doing remarkably well with her physical therapy and healing.  We had a brief scare when the PT person wouldn’t work on her yesterday because the scar was looking swollen and inflamed and she feared infection, so she sent Cindy to the doctor’s office right away.  The doctor wasn’t nearly as concerned as the PT folks but he was glad she came in and then he calmly cleaned the scar tissue, removed some of the stitches that were still there (trying to escape) and cleansed and bandaged the area.  He gave me some needles, antiseptic, bandages and gauze so that I could do the same thing on the trip if necessary. Finally, Dr. Byxbee can practice medicine!  (Note from Cindy:  This doctor is excellent but very dry and serious - Wm actually got him laughing out loud by clowning around about scrubbing if he had to remove a stitch.)

Speaking of medicine, just as Cindy was getting better, I wrenched my back and for several days was walking around bent over like I was Walter Brennan.  I finally went to the doctor before heading to the airport to visit the kids in Florida. I assumed I would get a muscle relaxer and that would be that, but it was not to be.  Baby Doc, she looked to be about twenty, told me that old farts can’t handle muscle relaxers.  Perhaps her exact words were, ‘we don’t recommend anyone over 65 take them since their organs are slowing down and they have bad reactions.’  Instead she gave me a prescription for strong Aleve and said goodbye. I’m doing much better and hope that by the time we get on the ship I’ll be 100%; this is a dancing cruise and while we might look more like we are doing the monster mash, we’ll be trying our best to dance the nights away.

I mentioned going to Florida. This was a quickly arranged trip to coincide with Cindy’s trip to Minnesota for class/friend reunions.  We traveled on the same days but her flight departed at one and mine was scheduled for six. That gave me five hours to try the five airline lounges in Terminals A and B. Air France, British Air, Virgin Atlantic, Turkish Air and Lufthansa all have lounges in these terminals so I decided to go to each one, have a glass of wine and something to eat, then walk the length of the terminal (2,000 steps), and then visit another. Worked out well and I got my exercise as well as a variety of nice wines and food.  Turkish and Lufthansa were by far the very best with their unique cuisines on display at their finest. 

Cindy’s flight went beautifully; mine, not so much.  All the cattle were on the plane and the doors closed on time and we then sat there for an hour because they couldn’t seem to get the jetway to back away from the plane. No one could figure out how to move it the six inches needed for departure; amazing. We didn’t arrive at Tampa until 9:30pm and I had a reservation at the Marriott which is right in the airport.  As I was walking towards the hotel I noticed it was very dark in the reception area, then I saw glow sticks being waved about and I thought, oh god a Halloween Party must be going on. NOPE, the whole hotel was plunged into darkness due to a power failure. The rest of the airport had juice but not the Marriott. I could not go to the room and all of their bars and restaurants were closed so they let me leave my suitcase and told me everyone was at the Hard Rock Cafe waiting for the electricity to come on.   Sure enough the place was jammed and everyone decide to make a party of it so we all just waited for two more hours until the hotel had some power. They had to take us to our rooms individually since they couldn’t use electric keys, and then they deposited me in the room without a key. I didn’t mind - well, I did mind how hot it was since they had no AC for four hours - but I was exhausted and fell into a deep sleep. 

The rest of the trip went well for both of us and I got back to Dulles before Cindy so was waiting for her at her gate for our trip back home with Mr. Uber. We unpacked yesterday and begin packing for the cruise tomorrow.   Happy Halloween,  Cindy and Wm

Another note from Cindy:  My time in Minnesota was marvelous and I caught up with many friends and relatives.  I can’t drive yet but my cousins and friends stepped up and drove me from one end of the Twin Cities to the other.  This made me so happy and thankful! 

Travels with Petite Rouge

First things first:  Cindy is doing pretty well with PT even though it is slow and frustrating.  The surgeon did a great job on the surgery and the wrist is healing well, so that just leaves the stress fracture in her foot as an area of concern!  We are maintaining our plans for the next trip, flying to Lisbon on Nov. 2 and taking a cruise back to Ft. Lauderdale, and we figure the PT exercises are eminently portable.  She just has to learn how to dance on one foot.  

We have been housebound for six weeks and Cindy had five days between PT appointments, so we decided to visit our friends in Greensboro since we had cancelled the day Cindy was injured. We were eager to take Petite Rouge, our new ruby red Escape on a trip.  We had received a note from the dealership indicating that their records showed that we must be ready for a five thousand mile checkup. We had driven only 250 miles!!  So we packed and had everything in the car so that we could leave right after doctor and dentist appointments on Thursday. 

We had decided to stop for the night in Roanoke since we couldn’t leave Charles Town until three and didn’t want to push it. From the minute we got into the car until we pulled into the Holiday Inn Express in Roanoke, it rained to beat the band and nothing is more fun that driving on I-81 in a pouring rain.  We almost turned around but Cindy had recently “discovered” some neighbors from 42 years ago who live in Roanoke part of the year and they were going to meet us for drinks. While we drove they texted that due to flooding they probably wouldn’t make it downtown - and then once we arrived we checked with the restaurant and found out it was closing at 7 pm due to problems in their restrooms from the flooding.  Too late to go back home!  But lo and behold, the waters subsided and we found another restaurant and the friends made it downtown after all.  It was a delightful evening - they’ve had a fascinating life and even lived in Germany for 3 years while we lived there. 

So far, so good - but then we found out early Friday morning that most of Greensboro was without power due to a horrendous windstorm that was a part of hurricane Michael on Thursday.   That included the houses of our friends, and since it was the weekend of the annual Furniture Market even the most basic hotel rooms were going for upwards of $400 per night, if you could find one.  Again, we almost turned around.  

But then one friend suggested we stay at his office - which is actually a house - and which thankfully has a very powerful generator.  Let the good times roll ... the situation wasn’t ideal but we made it work and had dinner there both nights with all of our friends.

On Saturday we drove to visit a dear friend who had recently purchased a ten acre ‘hobby’ farm. She and I have very different ideas of ‘hobby’ ... mine is collecting and immediately drinking wine.  Hers is to get up at the crack of dawn and take care of three horses, six chickens, one dog and multiple butterfly gardens, pastures and outbuildings.  She is as happy as we have ever seen her and it is obviously a labor of love that she thoroughly enjoys.  

The power came on in various neighborhoods while we were in town, but much of Greensboro was still without power when we left for Richmond on Sunday morning.  The good folks of Greensboro seem to have difficulty understanding the concept of non-functional traffic lights. In most of the USA, you treat these intersections as though they were four-way stops. In Greensboro they treat them as if it were a game of chicken, i.e., he who hesitates is a goner!

The drive to Richmond was lovely with only intermittent showers but upon entering the downtown area we became painfully aware of the fact that it was the last day of a three-day folk festival and there were people everywhere and lots of closed streets. We finally got to our hotel and managed to park and get to our room. We had a lovely dinner in a lovely restaurant with a dear friend from our days at Boston University in the 1980s. It was a perfect ending to a grand four day weekend.  I’m happy to say that Petite Rouge now has a respectable 1400 miles.

Best wishes to all, Cindy and Wm

Lenny and me

Last month all the public radio stations seemed to be celebrating what would have been Leonard Berstein’s 100th birthday. It got me thinking of my fifteen minutes of interaction with Lenny - yes, he really told me to call him Lenny.

It was in the spring of 1980 and I was doing advance work for Jimmy Carter’s reelection bid. I had just returned from coordinating a fundraiser in Jacksonville, FL and I got a call from the Office of Protocol asking if I would escort Eubie Blake to an award ceremony in the DC area, where he was to receive one of the three George Peabody Medals being given that year. I’m not sure why they wanted me but I figured it was because I knew a bit about jazz. My neighbor Jack Lucas, a real jazz expert, was amazed that I was going to meet Eubie Blake and he gave me a two-day seminar - complete with recordings, articles and books - so that I would be up to speed. 

Protocol laid on a limo for me - well, a limo for Eubie - and I collected him at the Jefferson Hotel and we went to the venue where the award ceremony was to take place.  Mr. Blake, as I called him until he gave me permission to call him Eubie, was about 94 or so and confined to a wheelchair, but his mind was sharp and he was full of life.  We got to the theater and went in via the stage entrance and were taken right to the Green Room to wait for the program to start. Just minutes before I was to take him to the stage, the door opened and this whirlwind of energy popped in with a mop of silver hair and feline moves and grabbed the wheelchair and said to Eubie, “let’s get this done.”  Just like that, Leonard Bernstein (who was also receiving a Peabody) and Eubie were out of the Green Room and onto the stage and I was standing there in amazement.

After the ceremony there was a fancy reception and I was once more in charge of taking care of Eubie. I asked if he wanted to go back to the hotel since he looked a bit tired but he insisted on going to the reception and meeting and greeting. After about twenty minutes we were making our way towards the exit when we passed a gaggle of people surrounding Leonard Bernstein and we heard this distinctive voice shout, “Not so fast, Eubie, there are a lot of folks here who want to meet you.”  The crowd parted and I pushed Eubie over to Mr. Bernstein who was telling the people, “this is a real American treasure and you are so lucky to have a chance to meet him ...” at which point everyone started to fawn over Eubie. 

I took a few steps back and The Voice came from behind and asked, “Who are you and why are you here with Eubie?”  I wanted to be a wiseass and say that he was my y grandfather, but simply told the truth and told him my name was William Byxbee. He repeated my name two times and said, “What a wonderful name, not like Lenny Bernstein, which seems so ordinary.”  I said, “Mr. Bernstein, you are far from ordinary!” It was then that he said, “You must call me Lenny.”  We chatted a bit longer before the crowds came back to him, and then Eubie and I said our goodbyes and I returned him to the hotel. 

And that was my fifteen minutes with Lenny and my three hours with Eubie, all and all a rather special evening.

Patient Update II

Cindy had her first exam since the surgery and everything is looking very good.  They took a  few x-rays and the bones are where they’re supposed to be and they were able to take off the big cast and she is now in a small wrist brace that will give her much more mobility.  She is still not able to lift or touch anything with her right hand, but she can take the brace off to shower and she can now move her arm at the elbow since she only needs the sling when she goes out  to walk or interact. 

She needs to start intensive physical therapy twice a week starting on Monday, which means that we’ll not be able to salvage any part of the planned three weeks in Europe.  While that is very disappointing, we just don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize her complete recovery.  The doctor thought we were mad to even consider the trip what with the double whammy of a stress fracture in her left foot and her shattered right wrist. I’m in cancellation mode; trains, planes, hotels and car services.  Gives me something to do while Cindy naps, which I make her do every afternoon. Her next appointment is in three weeks and we are hoping with the PT and her own exercise routine that she’ll be much more flexible and that the healing will have really started to take place. I’ve a couple of photos of her arm and scar that we could see for the first time once they took off the cast. It is amazing how the arm shrunk, no exercise can really do a number on the body.

Not much else to report, but all seems to be on track for a complete recover, it will just take a lot of time, much more that any of us realized.   More later,  William

Wither thou goeth

ET call Home

My Favorite Mummy

Ode to Wm

I wish I were a poet, alas I am not - so here is my narrative about what is going on here in Charles Town.  It’s one thing to learn to do things with my left hand that I usually do with my right hand (the wrist I broke), but it is astounding to me how many things in life require two hands. I am not even referring to the obvious things such as folding laundry or washing dishes, but rather tasks that one would think could be managed with one hand. Opening all manner of bottles, containers, and jars; dressing (try putting on socks with one hand), putting my hair into a ponytail or bun, inserting and removing contact lenses, cutting food or anything else, tying shoes, the list goes on. These are not skills that improve with practice, these are skills that are truly impossible with one hand. The only thing I have mastered - and I am so proud - is applying Chapstick. I can flip off the cap, apply the stick to my lips, and flip the cap back on with one seemingly fluid motion.  <grin>

The above list might seem long but it is just a taste of the things I cannot do - and as you must have guessed, this has meant that William has had to do all of the above tasks either for me or with me every day, often multiple times per day.  I am not complaining, just explaining what a (temporary) life-changer this is been for him. He has been ever so patient and has spent so much time with me.  He will be the first to admit he is a bit squeamish about the contact lenses, but otherwise he is an able and willing and loving volunteer.  Good thing he was already in charge of the cooking and shopping, but I actually used to do things like the dishes and laundry, and he is doing everything with nary a word of complaint.  

In addition, Megan has been phenomenally supportive with her inspiration and comforting words as well as advice about meds and pain management and other details. She is wise beyond her years and I have appreciated all of her communication and encouragement so much.  By the way, she is doing extremely well with maintenance, and we are all thrilled.  It is true that she benefits from the best care and treatment available, but she wouldn’t be where she is without her fabulous attitude and approach to life.

As for my sorry wrist, thank goodness this is all temporary and I’m not sure who is more eager to get beyond it!  In the meantime, Wm deserves high praise, very high praise.  He did not want to include this in the blog, but I overruled him (how strange is that?!).  Thanks for all the good wishes and lovely cards that many of you have sent. I am thrilled that I can manage email by talking into my device so I don’t feel entirely cut off.

Sending love and good wishes back to you,

Cindy

ccemmans@yahoo.com 

Patient Update

Cindy spent as comfortable a weekend as possible with a little help from her small blue friends.  Last night was a good one in terms of more sleep and less discomfort, and we hope it just keeps getting better and better.  The swelling has gone down quite a bit and her fingers look more like breakfast sausages as opposed to bratwurst (as they did after surgery). She is doing her finger and thumb wiggling exercises to be sure to keep all of them moving and limber. Best of all, her spirits are high and she has a good appetite - which challenges me daily to get the healthiest and tastiest food into her as possible. Since she really can’t drink, I’ve taken up the slack!

During my time at the hospital while she was in surgery, I explored the place and finally found a quiet lounge on the third floor that was empty the entire three hours.  Seems that this lounge used to be the main lounge for friends and family of those in surgery and last month they moved the lounge to be closer to the actual OR but they haven’t gotten around to closing the one on the third floor.  The window in the lounge overlooks the main entrance to the hospital so I could watch as people were discharged.  I can report - without fear of being incorrect - that the first thing that at least 60% of all folks being discharged did when they got in the car was to light up a cigarette!  The first few times I saw this I was shocked, but it happened time and time again.  Oh, almost 100% did NOT use their seatbelts!  The good folks in Charles Town like to live dangerously.

Speaking of which, after having been at the hospital for three hours, I was getting a little hungry so went to the cafeteria to see what was on offer.  Last year, while being with Megan at Moffitt Hospital in Tampa, I had occasion to go to their cafeteria to get something for Megan and something for me. Their cafeteria was more like a luxury cruise ship buffet: carving stations, omelet station, a fresh sushi bar, a real grill where you could get anything you wanted - from juicy hamburgers to three kinds of ribs - and all the sides you could imagine.  The cafeteria at our local hospital was more like the remains of a cooler after three days on a canoe trip. There were multicolored - perhaps various shades of brown would be more like it - meats, meats that seriously could not be identified. The eggs were obviously powdered, there were cubes of something that said French Toast, and of course, grits:  cheese grits, sausage grits and grits with redeye gravy. I went in hungry and left without an appetite having only ordered a coffee, which was free so I’m not going to say anything about that.  (Note from the patient: Anesthesia has more advantages than I realized.)

As you might remember, we were scheduled to depart for Nice on Wednesday. That has been cancelled since there is no way we are going anywhere for at least two weeks when the doctor will again look at Cindy’s wrist and either clear us for travel or not. 

I’ve had to cancel two air reservations, one to get to Nice and the other to get from Nice to Brussels. Let me tell you, it is time consuming and nasty.  Royal Air Maroc might refund Cindy’s ticket when they process the letter from the doctor and my ‘forceful’ email, but they will not give me a full refund or even a credit.  They will charge me a cancellation fee of 250 euros since there is nothing wrong with my wrist and, as they say, you are free to travel!!  Same with Brussels Air, they might give Cindy a credit, but they will only refund me THREE Euros on a 150 Euro ticket!!  There is a cancellation fee, a service fee, a fee fee, and on and on it goes.  Oh, how I despise these folks.  I thought that having purchased a full fare business class ticket would have had some clout, but I was wrong.

 When we had to cancel our flight to Paris last fall when Megan was in treatment, United Airlines - whom I have at times had negative thoughts about - were only too happy to credit our entire fare for one year and periodically would send a note asking as to Megan’s progress. When I called them to rebook for this December, the reservationist again asked how Megan was doing.  Sometimes they just get it right!

Well, back to the patient, who is napping so as to allow me time to get a fresh salmon dinner organized.  Some really good news is that she is no longer taking the opiods for pain, a very positive step forward! 

More later in the week. I’ll say it again, many thanks for all your positive energy regarding Cindy’s wellbeing.  She feels it!

William

If you want to write directly to her, it is ccemmans@yahoo.com. Or reply to me and copy her.