The Planting

O.K. the picture thing is killing me. The Watering and The Happy Dance ended up first instead of last.

I also can't get indentation for paragraphs and the text to flow the way I want it to.

In any event, we were thrilled when the hedge was finally planted after three days of labor, and it still looks good.

For a treat during the planting, I took Taylor to see Jim and Carolyn's two acre forest hosta garden. It is unbelievably beautiful and serene. We were so inspired we excitedly chatted all the way home about what we wanted to do with our garden and we couldn't wait to get back to work.

The next time I stopped to see Jim and Carolyn they sent home a gorgeous hosta called (of all things), Striptease, for Taylor. We were both thrilled and have now started our own little hosta shade garden. Did I say that Jim has 246 of the over 300 varieties of hostas? He does.

Taylor is feeling much better and is starting physical therapy on her finger today. She will be sidelined from fall sports for two to three months, but after that is good to go again with, hopefully, no ill effects.

My doctor gave me the all-clear after my hip replacement of three and a half months ago on Tuesday and I'm able to go to the gym again which I did with Alyssa yesterday. It felt great although I'm a little sore today. We have much to be thankful for and life is good!

Dead Daises

Who would have thought dead daises could be beautiful. My 15 year-old granddaughter Taylor had these on a shelf. I thought they were gorgeous.

She's my gardening buddy. We planted 19 Green Mountain boxwoods for the hedge around our some-day-to-be English garden. I helped with three and she planted the other 16 all by herself.

Today she's trying something new by having surgery on the finger she injured about three weeks ago in a basketball game. The trainer said it was a sprain, she could move it, and it didn't hurt all that much or stop her from playing, so we figured it would get better. It didn't and the hand specialist said that it was a bad break and that she must be really tough. So, in a few minutes her mom Holly, sister Brittanny, and I are going with Taylor to a surgery center.
After much waiting and delay, the surgery was successfully completed. Two tiny screws and the finger will be as good as new.

Atlanta

So much has happened since my last post. Primarily, a total right hip replacement on March 25. The recovery is going well, but, has slowed me down considerably. But, one perk is that I'm spending a week of "resting" time at Heidi and Steve's in Roswell, GA, a really quaint, artsy old town about 25 minutes north of downtown Atlanta.

The last time I was out and about with my daughter Heidi we were traveling in Germany and Italy. Here's Heidi in our room in Venice last February. Her husband Steve had joined us for the last weekend of our trip there.

Before that, Heidi and I had been to Neuss, Dusseldorf, Nuremburg, and Milan. Heidi had to work everyday, but I got to play and explore. My previous posts are about those adventures. Now that I've learned a little about including photos, hopefully, there will be many more.

Contemplating the Moon: Women in Wax

Contemplating the Moon: Women in Wax

I May Have Created a Monster

I thought I had to complete all my travel posts before I could just do some regular blogging. But, I was a little behind and not moving toward that when I picked up a copy of the current Artful Blogging magazine. The more I got into it, the more intimidated I felt, kind of angry almost. I heard the door slam shut.

Then I came to the part where Bridgette Guerzon Mills in her “Contemplating the Moon” (www.bgmartjournal.blogspot.com) blog talked about, “connecting with creative people.” I want to do that. Making art can be isolating. But…and then I got to Sarah Bowen’s blog “Piece of Work” (www.sarahbowen.typepad.com) and was reminded of my own uniqueness and how special each of our uniquenesses is. We need not apologize for being that - unique. Each person’s unique qualities are God-breathed and are not up for jurying.

I knew this on an intellectual level and I have always felt uniquely special in a pleasant way, but now my heart is leaping! I can be me. No apologies, just me. Once when I asked my thirty-something daughter Holly, “…seriously, am I a dork?” She said, “Yeah, you are, but in an endearing kind of way.” My three teenage granddaughters tell me being a dork is never good. But, you know what? It doesn’t matter. So, it’s o.k. to be cutesy sometimes, cluttery most of the time, and in left field all the time with no established lateral dominance at the age of 66. So, it also shouldn’t matter if my English Department Chair colleague from my former high school should read a post. It’s just me. This is going to be fun!

I’m stopping now even though I’m overflowing. I’ve picked up that blogs that are too long get tiring and this post is probably too long already. I just want to say, I’m working on a banner and I’ll post photos as soon as I learn how. I think I’ve found a site that will help. Now I just have to figure out how to get this out there.

Wednesday in Milano 2-6-08

Last night Heidi and I went to a neighborhood pizza place. (Jan stayed in as her knee was swollen and she was tired. She had a knee replacement in December and something is not right. She changed doctors and had to go for tests last week and has more scheduled next week.)
Heidi and I missed her since we didn’t understand the Italian menu and they didn’t have an English one. So we would point and our waiter Andre would tell us what the word meant. We pointed and he said, “Fish.” We said, “No fish.” Fish on pizza was something neither one of us wanted to try. There were a lot of fish pizzas and pastas on that menu. We finally settled on Pizza Margherita and a pasta with a nice mushroom sauce. The salad had spinach, tomatoes, and great, thick slices of fresh mozzarella cheese. The balsamic vinegar was to die for. We had a good red wine and our check was a third of what we usually have to pay for dinner.

Today was a shopping day and a soaking up the outdoors at Duomo Piazza. They told me at the hotel that another place to shop was San Biblia. It was one stop away from Duomo. A woman at the bus stop this morning told me there was an information center to the left of the Galleria at Duomo (no one at the hotel ever mentioned it), so I went there first to get information about an art museum the same lady suggested. I picked up a good booklet and a map. Then back to the underground to go one stop to San Biblia. I had been wondering if it was close enough to walk, but the subway ride was long enough that I was glad I hadn’t tried to.

The shopping here was a little disappointing, mostly the same shops, but even so I did find a couple of bargains at Zara’s. It is a nice department store that has a range in quality from upscale to Kohl’s. Didn’t see much I was interested in anywhere else except for a man’s scarf on a rack of jackets. After I had picked up the scarf and looked it over I asked the man who came over thinking he was a clerk if there were any more of them. He didn’t speak English , but did say something in Italian. I thought he was trying to tell me where the scarves were when in fact he was trying to tell me he didn’t work there. I thanked him and as I walked away I saw him trying on a jacket and then I realized what he had said. If I thought that was embarrassing a moment later I saw him leaving wearing the scarf I had been asking about. The language barrier can be very humbling. Reminds me of the time in Germany with Donnie when I asked a clerk in what I thought was good German for bubble bath and she showed me to the Gummy Bears.

After that I walked on and a block or so later to my amazement I saw what looked the cathedral. The thought crossed my mind that there couldn’t possibly be two and, of course, there wasn’t. San Biblia is just behind the cathedral a couple of blocks. It was serendipity that I walked that way, though, because I came upon five young men making the most beautiful music. Two of them played violins, two played accordians, and one was on an electric guitar. That combination sounds somewhat unlikely but it was so nice I bought one of their CD’s. I hope there’s actually music on it. It looked like a blank CD from a big pack at Sam’s. There was no label on the CD, but there was a poorly printed play sheet inside with some of my favorite classical pieces listed so I’m eager to see if there's some music on it. I know it will be one of my favorite studio CD’s because not only will it be good music to work to, but it will bring back that sunny day in Milano in the piazza behind the Duomo.

Milano on Tuesday 2-5-08

Last night we had dinner at the hotel and it was fabulous. Jan ordered a really good Italian red wine that perfectly complemented our pasta meals. Jan is Jan Hillman an Englishwomen from London who now works out of the UPS office in Brussels, Belgium and who is Heidi’s European teammate. Jan is our gourmet food and wine guide. I don’t think she’s ever not know what something was food-wise. She is well traveled and at one point flew regularly from London to Singapore for her job. At that time she was an international events planner. She told us how in the course of her job she had dinner with Princess Diana’s Father. She hob-knobbed all over Europe in the company of high society. After her son was born, she joined UPS in order to be closer to home. She was married to a journalist who also traveled early on. He died seven years ago. Jan’s son just passed the bar in England and is now a practicing attorney in London. Jan is my age so we automatically have some things in common. She is attractive, a snappy dresser, a good conversationalist, and fun to be around.
Jan and Heidi often talk business before dinner and at breakfast, so I’m learning tons about UPS. I told Heidi I’m going to call or email the bead company I order from and suggest they use UPS. I’m giving them Heidi’s name. I might be a UPSer yet.
Did I say that the breakfast is included with the room for both of us? Good news for me. So when I’m out and about I can sit at a nice outdoor café and have a cappuccino and watch the world go by and not spend money on lunch.. Usually it’s at the Café Duomo where the waiter now knows me. On Monday I told Heidi that I thought he recognized me, but couldn’t find that to be possible with the hundreds and hundreds of people that pass through, but yesterday he said hello as if we were old friends and shook my hand.
Today was castle day. This time I had to take three trains to get there. It was so worth it. Here picture-taking was allowed and I got some good shots of the amazing frescoed ceilings. The carved stone pillars and stone sculptures are beyond belief. Room after room of paintings, sculptures and other artifacts from the middle ages boggle the mind. I’ve been gathering up brochures and information printed in English so that I can look back and try to absorb all that I have seen. I think I’ve mentioned sensory overload and it continues.
On Monday night when I got back to my last train stop and had to get the bus I asked for directions to the bus stop. I was on the wrong side of the street. When I got to where I thought I was supposed to be I didn’t see signs indicating destinations so I asked an older gentleman if the 925 bus went to Milano Due. Not only did he not speak English, he was almost deaf. He did some pointing and I walked in the direction he indicated and he followed me and proceeded in very loud, animated Italian to try and convince to young ladies who were at the stop to help me. We’d already covered it before he caught up and finally he understood that I would be O.K. I indicated to the girls with sign language that I loved him because he was so cute and with lots of giggles they agreed.
That was Monday. On Tuesday night I found the stop just fine, but in the morning when I was on the bus something didn’t seem right. My stop never came up and we were sitting at a rest point and since I was the only one left on the bus the driver turned and looked at me like why are you still on the bus. He didn’t speak English so I showed him on the map where I was supposed to get off and he said this bus didn’t stop there. This bus did go to Goppa a train station three stops farther along, so I stayed on and rode all the way around and past the hotel again and on to Goppa.
So that night I was thinking maybe there were two busses at night like in the morning. It was dark and raining cats and dogs and the windows were fogged up, so I was counting stops, but since the first night they haven’t come out right. All of a sudden I saw the green neon sign of the Jolly Milano and I jumped up. I was a little late in ringing the bell and it didn‘t sound, but the driver stopped anyway because he saw me.. As I’m jumping off he said to me, “You gotta ringa!”

Milano on Monday 2-4-08

The bad news is I’m out of underwear. The good news is I found a little store near the hotel that had laundry soap. The arthritic wrists are not good wringer-outers, so I’m not sure all the soap got rinsed out. I hope we don’t get rashes.
When Heidi and I were in the center of the city at the Duomo Piazza I knew I would be coming back and that’s what I did first thing on Monday. Heidi was the trailblazer on Saturday so now I was on my own, I knew where the bus stop was just a few steps outside the hotel. I met a woman from the Philippines on the bus and she showed me where to get off at Edine. She told me which trains to take and I made it to the city center with no problem.
I came up from the underground at exactly the same place we were on Saturday. I had a cappuccino at the same coffee bar Heidi and I had been too. I walked across the piazza to the Duomo and went inside. Oh, my goodness! The cathedral was huge. The vaulted ceilings and pillars that have to be eight feet in diameter were beyond belief. The Cathedral was begun in the 1300’s. How did they build a place like this without cranes and power tools? The church is filled with paintings, sculptures, precious objects, and crypts with the remains of important church leaders. People are allowed to walk freely and take pictures. Even though it is spectacularly beautiful I felt the same sadness that I have in other cathedrals. They are cold inside and dark. There isn’t an atmosphere of Godly worship, but rather a worship of men and the human race because they are able to build such monuments. How many candles and torches did it take to light these places in the middle ages and beyond? I spent a long time soaking up the whole thing which is really impossible to do completely. Afterward I walked around the whole exterior which I’m estimating is at least a block long on all four sides. It’s probably longer on two sides since it appears to be a rectangle rather than a square.
Across from the cathedral to the left I saw a large sign with a picture of the famous Mexican artist Frieda Kahlo. The exhibition was of important female artists from the Renaissance until the early 1930’s, but it didn’t open until 2:30, so I walked around and went back to the Galleria to check it out during the day , and it was equally as beautiful as at night.
I’m really missing “The Girls” Deedee, Mickie, Rosemary, and my sister Mary. I wanted my art sidekicks so I could talk to them about what I was seeing. I didn’t realize there were so many famous women painters. I remember hearing about a few in art history classes, but there were so many more. It was interesting to learn that there were some who, in addition to their art, raised families of ten and eleven children! I saw a Frieda Kahlo and a Mary Cassatt.
It was a full and exhausting day and I was happy to make my way back to the hotel. By this time it was dark, but I had a business card from the hotel which I showed to the bus driver. He said it was seven stops, so I counted on my fingers and got off at the right place. Did I say I found a little something for Brittany? Alyssa wants a red purse with lots of pockets (I owe her big time for taking me to doctors’ stuff and to the airport and for picking me up at all hours) and I spotted one, but it was the first day and it was a little large so I came away without it. I’ll keep my eyes peeled. I think Taylor’s out in the cold.

Sunday in Bergamo 2-3-08

The suggestion was made that we take a taxi to Bergamo a small town outside of Milano in the mountains which were actually high hills. We went to the old town there and what a spectacular find. You could still see some of the old wall that originally surrounded the village. When they say old town they really mean it. Like everything else in Italy the place dates from the 1300’s. It was filled with narrow, winding cobblestone streets that were easy to get lost in. The cobblestones are flat rectangular stones laid in a brick-like pattern. It’s always a good idea to watch carefully when you are walking.
We made arrangements to have the cab pick us up at six and we were off. The place was literally wall to wall people, lots of .families with children. We soon found out why all the people. We walked and just looked in the shop windows as many of the shops were closed. We eventually, after much picture taking, found an open pick your own and stand at a tall round table to eat pizza place. My pizza had potatoes on top with tomatoes and cheese, go figure - this from the potato queen. Jan’s had onions and cheese and Heidi’s had ham. All three were delicious.
All at once we heard music from somewhere. Heidi said she thought there was a band coming, and sure enough there came a band playing, of all things, “Oh, Susanna” followed by “Cu Cucaracha.” Bright bulbs that we are, we realized the town was celebrating Carnivale, hence, children and many adults in costume. By this time I was out on the street with Heidi who had my camera and was furiously snapping photos. The people were following the bands through the narrow streets from one big square to the other. I wish I knew how to upload photos! I’m not able to get much computer time here as it’s so expensive and so I haven’t been able to figure it out.
Many of the costumes were very creative and obviously homemade. There was a wonderful joyous air and the whole thing was very family oriented. No alcohol or the rowdiness that is usually associated with Carnivale or Mardi Gras. How lucky were we that we just happened upon this find? It was not a touristy thing at all as the people we saw seemed to be from the surrounding area. There was much good-natured hugging, and also dancing in the street to the beat of the music. We followed the parade back to the spot where we had entered and found our cab waiting for us.
We never did have dinner that night. We were still full of pizza, and besides, the nice lounge back at the hotel serves bowls of huge green olives and other pickled vegetables, as well as, peanuts, sometimes pistachio nuts, chips, and even really good cookies with milk chocolate when you order a glass of wine or beer. We settled in there and after a wonderful day had an equally wonderful evening yakking away. Jan and Heidi had to work the next morning, so it wasn’t a late night. I didn’t - have to work, that is. I try and keep a low profile on that score.

Milano on Saturday

Milano Day I 2-2-08
O.K the impressions are coming way too fast! Yesterday Heidi met me at the hotel in Nurnberg at 4:00 and we headed by taxi to the airport. This time I had a business class ticket and Heidi didn‘t, so we spent a good 45 minutes getting her ticket changed. After security, and yes the fake hip set the alarms off as usual and they had to do the search thing, we headed to check-in. When we got to the gate they were boarding. This meant taking a bus to the plane. It was only an hour flight to Zurich, but we had water, wine, and a beautiful “snack” that consisted of gourmet hors‘deorves including smoked salmon, fancy little sandwiches, and a custard tart with strawberries, kiwi, and pineapple on top. Ya gotta love that business class. On landing it was another bus to the terminal and then a rush through the airport to our gate where they were already boarding the bus to the plane headed for Milano. Again, only an hour f light, but more gourmet snacks this time with custard in a solid chocolate cup. Did I say Swiss chocolate? That too. In Milano another bus to the terminal.
Our taxi driver was mistaken on our destination and after quite a long time in a not so nice area he fessed up and made a call to find out where he was supposed to go. We finally made it and were really glad to see our hotel. It was after 11:00 by the time we checked in and only the bar was open, so we had grilled ham and cheese and beer. Then to bed. No feather beds this time but still good sleeping..
Saturday morning was a sleep in and then off to the Duomo in the center Milano. I can see that traveling around Milano is going to be a lot different than smaller places like Dusseldorf and Nurnberg. We took a bus from the hotel to the green train and then after six stops we changed to the red train which took us to the square in front of the Duomo. When we emerged from the subway I looked up and couldn’t believe my eyes and said, “Oh wow!” Heidi said, “Bar, coffee.” We found a spot at an outdoor place under stripped canopies where the tables faced the great cathedral. It was an international mix of people all talking and pointing and snapping photos of each other and the sights. The accordian player that moved one young lady a few tables from us to get up and dance was frosting on the cake. Heidi said, “Aren’t you going to join her?” But, by the time I got up and out of my spot she had already finished
We wandered around and poked in and out of shops and even tried things on, but neither of us bought anything except post cards. We found a place where we thought we’d have a late lunch. It was a glass enclosed outdoor spot that looked good. After the waiter brought our wine and a beautiful tray of anti-pasto that we didn’t order, but came with the wine we realized they didn’t serve food outside. So, after the nice snack (by this time it was dark) we moved on and discovered a huge enclosed mall type place which we found out later is the Galleria. Mall is certainly the wrong word because this place wasn’t like any of the malls we know. It was gorgeous and when I looked up I couldn’t believe how wonderful it was overhead. And then I heard beautiful concert quality organ music coming from I didn‘t know where. In the center of the Galleria was a man playing on some kind of sophisticated keyboard. He had a page turner. The sound system must have been spectacular because it was like being in a huge church or cathedral. When the pianist finished a piece the crowd, some seated and many standing applauded. After his last set people were shaking his hand and expressing their gratitude. I shook his hand, too, and told him it was beautiful.
After more walking and looking in shops like Prada and such, (we took pictures of the purses and that’s as close as I’ll ever get to one) we found a place to eat right in the Galleria. We shared a pizza and an order of pasta. The pizza here is nothing like what we have at home. It’s what we would call gourmet, and is much lighter in crust and in topping than ours. Fresh cheeses and vegetables and thinly sliced meats and sausage make the difference. The Italians know their aldente, so the pasta was perfect.
Our table was adjacent to another table for two, and soon we were in a conversation with a couple from Norway, who now make their home in Spain because the weather is better and it’s less expensive. They have a son in Washington state so have been to the U.S.. The man has his own vinyl record selling business and he and his wife were in Milano for a music conference and buying trip. So, wonderful food, good wine, and great conversation; what could be better on our first night out in Milano?
It was like the blind leading the blind after dinner as we retraced our steps to the Jolly Milano 2. Heidi took the lead and I followed blindly, that’s where the blind comes in, even though I should have been watching so I would know how to do it on my own the next day. It really seemed confusing at first. We took the red train to Loretto where we had to get off and either go up or down, I still can’t get it straight, for the green train to Goppa. The station there didn’t look at all like the one on our way to the city center. So, we wandered around trying to figure it out and finally learned we had to take the #925 bus. People could have told us anything, because we knew nothing. But there was no way to get to a street from that station location no bus seemed to be coming to that stop, so Heidi make an executive decision and said, “Let’s take a cab.” It was under ten minutes from Goppa to our hotel by cab and a great time was had by all.

We Made It

We arrived at Charles De Gaulle airport about a half an hour late so our lay-over was about an hour and went very quickly. The airport itself was not impressive and had vast areas of empty concrete-like spaces that didn’t seem to serve any purpose. We had to keep walking what seemed like a great maze that finally ended at a huge white double door that looked like a dead-end; it wasn’t. Heidi decided we could organize things much more efficiently and attractively. There was no art anywhere and the trash containers were just large, clear plastic bags suspended from rings at the tops of pipes so all the garbage was clearly visible. There were fire extinguishers every few feet which wasn’t really comforting. It was tacky and cold to say the least. We went outside and rode a bus to the gate. When we came in it was four miles from where we landed to our arrival gate and just as far to the departure gate. The flight left on time and was good.

We took a cab to our hotel, a Holiday Inn (Heidi’s preference the Swiss Hotel was full when she booked) which we found to be very comfortable. There were nice, nice down feather comforters on good beds. After a restful four hour nap we went with Heidi’s colleague Jan from Belgium to an Argentinean-German restaurant in Düsseldorf (our hotel was next-door in Neuss) for dinner. Heidi and I had kind of a stroganoff on really good fried potatoes made with bacon and onion. Jan had a lamb dish that was excellent.

Monday morning after Heidi went off to work I walked about six blocks to a tram stop so I could go into Düsseldorf. The train ride was 23 minutes to the Hauptbahnhof or main train station in Düsseldorf. After walking around there and going to the information center and the post office where I learned the door thing, I took the underground just two stops to the Alt Stadt (old town). Here was a quaint old shop, restaurant, and museum region that bordered the Rhine River. After a lunch at a quaint German restaurant of sausage, salt potatoes that turned out to be boiled potatoes with parsley which prompted the waiter to finally say, “They’re gut, you try.” when I couldn’t understand what he meant by salt potatoes, and a mushy cabbage vegetable dish that was very good, I was off to see the ceramics museum. It was closed! Bummer - because what I saw through the window was amazing.

So, now plan B. I knew there was a modern architectural area not too far away, so I started walking. It was a beautiful walk along the River Rhine under an archway of oddly-shaped leafless trees. I love to see people riding bikes and walking dogs and there were plenty. One old couple had lifted their dog onto the waist high wall so he could see the river too. After walking what seemed miles and miles I came to the Rhine Tower which was built in 1979 and is over 234 meters high. I went up and had a gorgeous, though overcast, 360 degree view of Düsseldorf. Luckily my camera’s battery didn’t die until after I had some good shots.

I retraced my steps to the Alt Stadt and after stopping at two places to ask if there was an Internet café nearby, I found a young woman who gave me good directions. It was two Euros for an hour which was way less expensive than the nine Euros for two hours back at the hotel. I replied to an email from Taylor and then chatted with Holly a little since it was just after eight at Shoreland where I found her online in her office. Then back to the underground from the old town to the Düsseldorf Hauptbahnhof where I got the tram to Neuss. That night we had dinner at a Greek restaurant of all things where the lamb was delicious. I wonder how the family is going to like the idea of lamb when I get home?

Fun Flight

This blogging business is work, like writing an essay in school, but it's fun. It's like my little stat-keeping at the girls’ basketball games. It helps me to understand and process what's going on. Now that I figured out I can write in Word and upload to Traveltwigue whenever I have Internet access it is much more convenient and less net time. “Too soon old and too late smart” applies more and more each day. But, as long as there is some sort of learning curve I guess it’s O.K. Students always looked at me as if I were from Mars when I tried to convince them that learning is one of the greatest pleasures in life.

I’ve learned quite a bit in just three days in another country. Rule #1 - when you enter a big building on a main intersection be sure to notice where you went in so it doesn’t take you two blocks after you’ve left to realize the train station isn’t just ahead because you came out a different door and are walking down a different street in a totally different direction. Heidi wasn’t impressed with Rule # 1. She just said, “No-o-o, duh!” She’s younger - that’s where the “too soon old” comes in. That was is Düsseldorf on Monday.

Rewind to Sunday. Heidi arrived at the Atlanta airport at 3:30 just like she said she would. I accompanied her to the Business Elite Lounge (you have to pick your traveling companions) and we had champagne! The lounge was gorgeous, like something out of a movie. You could have anything you wanted to drink and the food looked fabulous. I had had lunch, plus I was too excited to even taste anything which Andy's never going to believe.

Our plane was on time and they were boarding when we got to the gate. At least we didn’t have to do the O. J. Simpson dash through the airport as Heidi and Steve are sometimes known to do. She got right on and I waited in line with the rest of the common people. Actually, the seats were nice and roomy and my partner, a romance language professor and dean at the University of Missouri in St. Louis Dr. Debbie Baldini and I got lucky and didn’t have anyone sitting in the middle seat. I had the window and she had the aisle; it was perfect.

We chatted non-stop until after dinner when we both tried to sleep. She did; I didn’t. We talked books, religion (very interesting), and family among other things. Her husband was an engineer at Boeing for 25 years and now works for a smaller company with less travel. She was going to France to scout the accommodations for an upcoming student trip to Europe. She was a little nervous flying so I stopped with the “going down” jokes. She told me about their hearing impaired daughter and how, after she, her husband, son, and mother had all learned signing and had communicated with the little one that way until she started school, they had to make a decision on whether she would continue with signing or go with lip reading and attend a regular school. She’s a teen-ager now and doing very well in a regular high school. I guess we never can truly appreciate our own blessings until we hear of the challenges of others.

Soon it was morning and they brought coffee and breakfast snacks. It took us longer to taxi to the gate after we landed than it did to have our snacks! Once we reached the gate, though, it didn't take long to unload and say our good-byes. Our bags came in and we were off to the next gate for the flight to Düsseldorf.

Atlanta Lay-Over

Hour five at the Atlanta airport and it’s all been good. Lots of time on the laptop, although, it appears Google Blogger is overloaded and I can’t get into my account. I did upload Firefox finally; I been meaning to do that. So, I’m writing in Word and hoping I can figure out how to get the posts into my blog.

I had a really great conversation with two service persons going back to Iraq, Eva Chapp and Travis Butler. Eva’s from Michigan and the mother of three teen age girls. Travis is from Alabama and had 10 and 11 year-old boys. These are their last tours of duty. They were both in complete agreement on the things we discussed. They said the Iraqi people are good, kind, trustworthy, and suffering. Both soldiers work in the detention center and Eva also works in PR and with the Iraqi leaders in Baghdad. Eva is Travis’ commanding officer. Women are well respected in Iraq. One of their heads of state is a woman.

Both agreed that the coalition should not pull out of Iraq yet as the work that has been done would be undone if we pull out too soon. The Iraqi people are just beginning to learn the truth about Saddam Hussein and to trust America and her allies. These two soldiers trust our government even with all the politics and also trust their higher command. They said that many of the Iraqi people who are detained in the detention center don’t want to leave because the conditions there, no matter how bad according to our standards, are way better than what they would have to go back to. There were dozens and dozens of soldiers in the airport waiting to go back.

They didn’t know where the government-chartered plane was taking them and good thing because if they would have known and told me, then they would have had to kill me. They said they would be told moments before they landed where they were and then from there each group would be transported to their own companies. They were both upbeat and encouraged by what the U.S. is doing in Iraq. They felt safe where they were going and thought progress was being made. I felt even prouder to be an American after talking to the two of them.

And I'm Off

I began waking up around three; had the clock set for four. Alyssa and I were out the door at 5:01 right on schedule. Holly and Andy both got up to say good-bye which was really nice since Saturday is the only sleep-in day. I’m sure they were both sound asleep again before we were out of the driveway, but it was nice.

There was only a little snow and the roads were good, so I was glad I chose not to worry about it. Alyssa knows right where to go and she dropped me off with a hug in front of Delta. Easy check in and my bag is going straight through to Düsseldorf – yea! But, the line through security was the longest I ever seen it, all the way to the beginning of the concourse. A man from Beaver Dam and I were talking when a frazzled lady asked us if this was the security line. When she saw that it was, she was more than a little distressed. Then out of the blue she said to me, “Well, at least you have a cute hairdo and don’t look all stressed like me!” All three of us had to laugh and I thanked her. I hope she made her connection. Beaver Dam and his parents Harry and Donna Shute knew my Uncle George’s dry goods store in Horicon. Mr. Shute worked at John Deere my uncle’s favorite tractor company, “ Nothing runs like a Deere!” I can still hear his booming voice when they’d visit and the Case name would come up. The younger Mr. Shute now from California remembered the polished large, round fancy grate in the middle of Schneider’s. He said there was a screen under it and old Mr. Schneider used to have coins in there. He said he even saw silver dollars. I guess that made an impression on a little kid. I remembered the x-ray machine we looked through to see our foot skeletons. We always got a new pair of shoes when we each had our time at Uncle George and Aunt Margaret’s. With six kids in our family new shoes were a great treat. Especially for me, since I was the kid that wore holes through the soles in two weeks and then had to stuff them with cardboard until they were outgrown. I’m still hard on shoes, but now I have more of them, and they rotate and so it takes longer to wear them out. And, yes, I need all those shoes.

We were a little late taking off because of all the de-icing, but we still made good time and I was headed to the trains at Hartsfield in Atlanta by 11:45. My seat mate Nancy (my new good friend from north of Sheboygan) had to make an 11:07 connection. She and at least half of the plane had to make connections, so the crew asked that those people be allowed to de-plane first. That was a small thing, but all the people leaving kept saying, “thank you, thank you,” as they hurried down the aisle.

Nancy is a retired teacher from the twin cities now living in a house she built on Lake Michigan ten miles north of Sheboygan in Cleveland. We really had a nice visit and the time just flew. We exchanged names and numbers and plan to get in touch when we both return from our trips.

Traveltwigue Begins

This is scary. My first blog. I'm leaving tomorrow morning for Germany and Italy, and thought this might be a good way for my family to keep track of me, hence the title of this blog - Traveltwigue. My cutesy DNA is beyond exorcism, so I try to be accepting and not wince too often. My friend Dixie just called and when I told her what I was doing and the name of my blog she said, "How cute!" but in a nice way. So, now I am encouraged to continue. I'm always easily motivated by kindness. I'm probably not travelled enough to present a full-fledged travelogue, but a traveltwigue I can handle.



I made a detailed list two weeks ago, and planned to be all packed by last Friday so I could chill and not stir myself into a sickening frenzy. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday passed. On Wednesday I emailed my daughter and told her I didn't know why I couldn't pack. She wrote back that I should light some candles, put on some music, have a glass of wine, and then just do it. It all sounded good, even the wine part. Since it was only 8:30 a.m. I nixed the wine, forgot all about the candles and music because I was so excited to be packing. My 24" suitcase weighed in at 33 lbs. (a first) and has two inches of spare room on the top. I am good to go. All that's left to worry about is the three inches of snow we are to get overnight. But, that is out of my hands and so I'm still good to go.



My travel companion is my daughter Heidi who is traveling to Nuess and Nuremburg in Germany and then to Milan, Italy for work. As long as I pay travel expenses and food, I can stay with her in her hotel rooms. How lucky am I? The last weekend on our own clock we are taking the train to Venice.

So, tomorrow morning my 7:30 flight takes me to Atlanta where Heidi and Steve live. She will meet me at the airport and at 5:30 p.m. we will board the same flight to Dusseldorf, Germany via Paris. Heidi will be in the front of the plane in one of those nice cozy first-class cocoon thingies, and I will be somewhere in the wayback with my knees to my chin loving every single, exciting minute of the flight. I can never sleep on a plane; I'm always afraid I'll miss something. The horizon line between night and dawn or dusk and night ( I honestly never knew for sure which) was tummy-turningly beautiful when I saw it from the cabin with the pilots on my first flight to Germany way before 9/11 when things like that were still possible. Everyone else was sleeping.