We Now Resume Our Regular Programming

Even though I'm the opposite of being musically inclined, I find this kind of background stuff really fascinating. It makes me wish I were talented...

Interlude

My apologies in advance. I usually try to make this place a refuge from all that swirls on around us. Sometimes it’s easier than others...

Sam and I made one of our increasingly rare lightning-strike visits to the grocery store yesterday. On the way into the parking lot, I stopped to let a guy pass who was heading from his car to the store’s entry. Actually, he headed to the store's exit.

Before this COVID situation, the doors on either side of the entry vestibule could be used for entering or exiting. Once the virus became more serious, or rather, was taken more seriously, stores began implementing restrictions to control in-store traffic flow (among other things). In the case of this store, one of the things they did was dedicate the set of doors on one side of the vestibule to people entering the store and the doors on the opposite side to people exiting the store. This has been their setup for at least the last four of my visits. That would mean this setup has been in place for well over two months.

Anyway, as I headed to a parking space, I noticed this guy was now standing in front of the non-opening, now exit-only doors, hands on his hips, reading one of the many policy signs plastered all over the face of these double doors.

After I parked, Sam and I headed over to the now entry-only doors. There was one lady ahead of us, stopped outside the doors with her carriage, so Sam and I stopped (six feet) behind her. I thought it was odd that there would be any sort of line to get in since there were so few cars in the lot. Apparently, the few people getting in line behind us thought so, too. Even with everyone wearing a mask, you could tell the looks of bewilderment. Finally, the first lady in line turned around and said, “There's some idiot up there trying to get in without a mask.” Everyone groaned.

After a minute or so, the mask-less guy, the guy trying to go in the exit (as it turns out) leaves to a gauntlet of groans, peppered with a few, “Give me a break”-type comments - and as he walks by, I hear him say to his presumed wife (who was wearing a mask, by the way), “I just think some of these places are taking advantage of the situation.”

What??? What does this even mean? How does you not following their rules (of a private establishment, by the way) mean they’re “taking advantage” of a situation? How does booting out a (potential) paying customer (unless he felt that paying for merchandise was also somehow unfair and an infringement on his civil rights), mean they’re the ones taking advantage of... anything???

Out of all of the many, many, many things that bother me about this entire situation, the fact that people have some problem with doing something so simple as wearing a mask, is one of the most bewildering and disgusting episodes in our increasingly selfish and self-absorbed so-called society. Why is this even political? (Don't bother to answer that.)

As I understand it, the point of wearing a mask is not to protect you. It’s to protect the people around you.

No one’s asking you to go off to war. No one’s rationing your gas. No one’s even asking you to black out your windows at night. All you’re being asked to do is wear a damn mask - a mask for the protection of those around you. You remember, these are your fellow citizens, your fellow “countrymen”. This is the big sacrifice and you can’t even bother to do that?

To top it off, many of these self-centered, self-obsessed fill-in-the-blanks (it's multiple choice), have the unmitigated gall to refer to themselves as patriots, as if not thinking of anyone other than themselves is some kind of bold action.

It drives me nuts.

Change of Scenery

Here are some photos taken at the same locations on the path behind swimming area. Two were taken in mid-April, the other two were taken approximately six weeks later, on our "let's lose my bifocals" expedition of the other day. See if you can guess which are which...

 

  

 

Lost and Found

Low river at the swimming area.

Sam and I, along with Sam’s metal detector, made an early morning return visit to the town’s swimming area. The occasion was me having dropped my glasses somewhere on our walk the evening before.

Fortunately, they weren’t my reading glasses (such as the ones I’m wearing right now). These were a pair of bifocals - which I only use for things like driving (no big deal. I can do ok without them - if pressed) or when my reading glasses aren’t available (because I had been driving).

Since I'm already wearing the bifocals when we go on most of our not-quite-local walks (having driven to where we're walking), I continue to use them when I'm taking, or trying to take, pictures - to see if the camera is anywhere near level (within ten degrees), if my intended subject is remotely within range of my viewfinder, and if the focus is anywhere near a point where said subject would possibly be discernible.

I have a spare pair of these bifocals but it’s nice to have a backup pair - for just this type of problem.

Last night, I realized I lost them when we were walking somewhere between the car and the path that leads through the woods. Finding them anywhere along there would be challenging, but not impossible. If I thought I dropped them along the wooded path, forget it. Everything along there is too overgrown at this point - and anyway, I noticed them missing before then.

The path through the woods.

Even still, Sam and I continued on, until we eventually finished our walk. When we got back to the car, we looked in the car, around the car, and around the parking area, but no luck.

It was kind of getting to the point where I was second guessing whether or not I had brought them. Maybe I had left them at home.

But it sure seemed like I had worn them to get here. I kind of remembered taking them off when we pulled into the parking lot, when I went to put my mask on. Then again, maybe I was wrong. Maybe I had left them at home. Or maybe not.

With no sign of them, we drove home. When we went in the house, I knew right away they were gone.

There, on the stove, were my reading glasses - which is where I leave them before switching to my bifocals when heading out the door. This meant the bifocals were either still in my car, somewhere on the tiny patch of grass by where we parked, on the footbridge, or (ugh) somewhere in the field on the other side of the river.

The field across the footbridge.

Since we were now home - with no intention of heading back out - Sam (with his eagle-eyes) looked one last time around the car for me. No luck. It was pretty safe that the bifocals were gone for good - so, reluctantly, I went online and ordered another pair.

This morning I figured, just for the heck of it, maybe we should head over to the swimming area with Sam’s metal detector and, as futile as it probably was, try and see if we could find the glasses. I wouldn’t bother searching the entire field, but if the glasses were anywhere from the patch of grass by where we parked, on over to the very beginnings of the field, we might stand a chance of finding them. Beyond that, forget it.

So head over, we did.

When we got there, we parked where we parked last night and I got out of the car and Sam and his metal detector got out of the car, and I explained to Sam all of what I just explained to you. By the time I got done explaining, I looked over at the patch of grass by where we parked - and there were my bifocals, sitting there in the grass, thankfully untouched.

Since neither Sam nor I (well, mostly Sam) are ones to sacrifice a chance to wander around aimlessly with a metal detector, Sam and I (well, actually just Sam) did just that - unfortunately to no avail.

Despite the low waters (with the dam not yet being closed) there was no treasure to be found. This was due in part to the fact that no one has been around to be in a position to be dropping change. And also, in part, because I didn’t think to bring any soon-to-be-lost change with me.

But who knows? I’m sure there’ll be plenty more opportunities to lose my glasses again in the future - and along with them, maybe even lose a little bit of change.

Today's Life Lesson

After our, shall we say, "extended tour" of Temple Woods the other day, Sam and I decided to head back there for another walk today. I think this was a little bit of, If you fall of the bike (or is it "horse"?) brush yourself off, climb back on and keep on trying - or something like that. I think that's a saying, isn't it?

Anyway, back we went. This time though, we stuck to slightly more familiar trails. And as for those trails that weren't familiar, if they were heading uphill instead of down, we avoided them. We may not always know which path to take, but we're learning which ones to avoid.

Spring Flowers

The lilies of the valley are blooming and as I write this, their fragrant perfume is wafting in through the dining room window. It reminds me of Mom.

Mom had two partially raised gardens at the edge of our backyard. Each were level with the closest edge of the yard, but the yard dropped to a hill, so the gardens were built up at the sides, as well as at the back. Along the left side of the left garden, were a few large clay bricks which formed seldom used steps, separated from the garden wall by only a few inches. In this small patch grew lilies of the valley.

On a spring morning long ago, while waiting for my afternoon kindergarten to begin, I remember walking up and down the steps, smelling the flowers as I paced. I remember the morning dew dropping off the lilies as I picked them, then combining them with a few stray violets and not-so-stray dandelions which I scavenged from our so-called lawn.

I presented this arrangement to Mom and watched as she placed them in a small drinking glass, filled the glass with water and set the arrangement in the center of the kitchen table.

And I remember quietly standing there with Mom, her hand on my shoulder, both of us silently admiring the lovely bouquet. I remember feeling pretty good about this, proud and not wanting the moment to end.

The flowers, after all, looked beautiful.

Blazing Old Trails

Sam and I tried out new trails (to us) on our walk through Temple Woods yesterday. Not the best idea. Many so-called paths led to cliffs or near-cliffs - or they simply faded into nowhere. A lot of back-tracking ensued.

Our planned forty-five minute walk turned into an unplanned nearly hour and forty-five minute walk. One of us, at least, was not too happy. (It didn't help that it was approaching dinner time.)

Next time, I think we'll stick to blazing old, familiar trails.

(Our map detailing our journey filled with aimless wandering, along with a significant amount of aimless backtracking.)

Something New and Different

Guess what Sam and I did today? If you guessed, went for a walk, you would be correct. But that's not all. We also braved the wilds of the grocery store - for the first time in just over three weeks. This is unheard of for us.

In our past pre-covid lives, we would hit up one grocery store every Friday evening and then we would hit up two grocery stores on Saturday mornings. Sometimes we would even go another once or twice during the week. Usually, this was more for an excuse to go somewhere rather than to actually go grocery shopping. (Yes, that's what we would do for excitement and, yes, that's what we would still do for excitement, given the chance.)

Anyway, today was the first time we went grocery shopping in just over three weeks. Remember several weeks ago, I was complaining about someone's grocery carriage being piled ridiculously high with food - to the point where things were sliding off the massive mound they were attempting to shove around the store? Well, today, that was us.

If I were more self-aware I would probably feel bad about my earlier criticisms. But I'm pretty numb to those kinds of things.

A Brief Note

In the photo back on this post, if you look on the upper right, you'll see what looks like a ten-pound bag of flour (the bleached variety), hanging from the porch roof. That, unfortunately, is me.

I wonder, how many days I had been left hanging there?

Back to the Usual

It's been almost a week since I mentioned anything to do with Sam and I going for a walk. I figure I've shown enough restraint (plus I have nothing else going on) so let's take a look at a few of this week's pictures, shall we?

Sunday:
Once again we went to the farmlands of a week or so back.
Less mud = more dirt flying around = less manure smell.
Better? Worse? You tell me. 

Note the oncoming cloud of dirt and silt behind the trees.

Monday:
Bad weather = no walk = no pictures. We can all take the day off.

Tuesday:
Another walk through Neighboring Town Number One (or is this Neighboring Town Number Two? It's hard for me to keep track). Then, on to walk the path which follows the canal. I took a grand total of two pictures this day, one of which is this photo of a graffiti strewn rock.

Sam and I have passed this rock many times before but this is the first time it's been decorated with a declaration of... what exactly, I'm not sure.
I feel like there should be a big heart drawn in between "D Dog" and Jessie - and I mean more than the little heart she (presumably she) has put above the "i" in her name.

I have many questions about this.

Why are these names written so small and tentative? Is this is the beginnings of a budding romance? Does Jessie 'heart' D Dog? Does D Dog 'heart' Jessie? If so, where's the friggin' heart? Will there be a heart drawn in here at some point in the future? How will all of this inevitably end? Will this rock eventually end up painted over, preferably in black, maybe with something like, Jessie and/or D Dog Sucks written all over it? (Only a suggestion.)
Time, maybe, will tell.

My second photo is also of a rock (albeit, one embedded in a foundation)....

This is even more cryptic than the first rock. What is "Turn Side"? Who is "We" and why do "we" need "Turn Side" bad enough to have the exclamation point at the end of this powerful statement? And maybe most importantly, is any of this related to Jessie and/or D Dog?

This kind of stuff is becoming too much for me. I expect these walks to be physically exhausting. I am not prepared for them to be mentally exhausting, as well.

Onward...

Wednesday:
It was back to the Quabbin for us. Thankfully, unlike our last visit, the wind kept the black files at bay.
I won't bore you with a lot of redundant pictures (other than this first one)...

Here's one of Sam following a trail we happened along. Note how his arms aren't flailing in all directions as he swats away at black flies. Thank you wind (which was strong enough to give me a wind burn).

The trail dumped out at the backside of the dam. It's hard to convey the scale of this mound of dirt you're looking at - which, by the way, braces the aforementioned dam and which is all that stands between all of that water (in picture number one) and me hoofing it (sort of) up this trail.
(I didn't notice any water leaking through this massive dirt mound - and believe me, I was looking.)

Thursday:
Thursday, it was back to Jake's old college (sans Jake, unfortunately). Not much to look at here but I'll stick in a couple of obligatory photos...

Pretty, right?

Friday:
Today, it was back to the rail yard for a prolonged walk through the woods, across the Bridge of Death, past the odoriferous sewage treatment plant, then through a couple of winding roads, across the main street then over to the far end of the above mentioned canal side trail. You've been with us before so I'll only post a few photos...

You've only seen this view about a million times. But it's a view I love - so expect to see it about a million times more. Sam and I have bets on what they're planting this year (and when I say "bets", I mean, we're only wondering). So far, in years past, it's been either corn, strawberries, or pumpkins. Any guesses? Whatever it is, they mean business this year. For the first time, they've laid in what looks to be some heavy duty sprinklers.

Here's a view that I haven't posted before (I think). This is well past the Bridge of Death, as well as past the sewage treatment plant which, on this seventy-plus degree day, with no wind, had one of us (not me) dramatically coughing well beyond what was necessary. Anyway, the point (not mine) was well made.

Here's a photo taken at a picnic table we came across, about two and a half miles from where we started. This meant, of course, that we would have to walk another two and a half miles back to get to the car. If you do the math, this means ... we walked a lot.

So there you have it. This concludes this week's walking log (except, possibly, for tomorrow). One of these days, I'll post some coordinates for you to plug into Google Earth. Then you'll be able to join us. Or at least, pretend to.

Today's Observation from Semi-Self-Quarantine

I think my fingernails might be growing faster than usual.

Today's To-Do List

1. Eat Breakfast.
2. Wait around.
3. Think about ordering pizza for lunch.
4. Stare at wall.
5. Wait some more.
6. Maybe look out window.
7. Wait some more.
8. Wait some more.
9. Order pizza for lunch.
10. Wait around.
11. Eat some pizza.
12. Wait around.
13. Maybe something else.

A True Friend

Here’s a photo taken in early 1957. It happens to be a photo of two of my sisters, but more importantly, my two sisters happen to be sitting on one of the greatest backyard toys ever created (which I’m pretty sure has long-since been banned).

We called this ride, "the merry-go-round". I think the more formal name was “whirligig” - though I’ve also seen it referred to as the more pretentious “whirligig-gig”.

The way this thing worked was that each kid would pump back and forth in opposition to each other, and the more and faster you pumped, the more and faster you spun around in circles as you tried to hang on for dear life. That, in itself, may not sound too exciting (it was!), but that was only part of the fun. The other part of the fun was getting a friend on it who may have had, as it turned out, motion sickness.That was like a surprise bonus.

After only a few minutes of spinning around at near supersonic speeds, said friend(s) would halt the ride, stagger off for a few wobbly steps, drop to their knees - and then proceed to throw up. Great fun for all!

At least one friend couldn’t even watch all that spinning around without getting sick. How great is that?

But that's not all. Here's another story. This one has nothing to do with the functioning of the ride or with someone getting sick or anything like that. This is a tale of childhood innocence...

When I was little, I had a friend, who we’ll call “Page” (because that was his name). Page was a nice kid who sometimes displayed an extraordinary amount of poor judgement, such as liking to hang out with me.

Sometimes Page and I would go down by the train tracks and pick and eat wild blueberries from the bushes that grew along the gravel strewn banks - and we would pretend that they actually tasted good.

Sometimes, while we were down there, we would put pennies on the train tracks and watch as they got run over by a train. (Despite what you may have heard, doing this does NOT derail a train - no matter how many times you try.)

Sometimes we would walk out in the woods, dig a small hole, fill it with mud and dog poop, then lay thin sticks over the hole and cover the sticks with leaves. We called these our “booby-traps”. What we were expecting to trap, I have no idea. Dogs? Squirrels? Someone with a broken ankle? Who knows? Whatever we expected to trap, it was obviously nothing we would want to keep, seeings how whatever it was, it would have been covered with mud and/or dog poop.

Thinking back, we probably didn't intend to catch anything. We were probably just doing it for the simple pleasure of building a trap filled with mud and dog poop, and nothing more. Sort of like, “It’s all about the journey, not the destination” - or something like that.

Anyway, one day, for some long-forgotten reason, I got the great idea of tying Page to this merry-go-round. It wasn't like I lashed him sideways across the thing or anything like that. Being a true friend, I was considerate enough to tie him up while he was sitting on the seat.

Also like a true friend, it should be noted that I didn’t use some scratchy, hemp-type rope. I used a soft, heavy duty, cotton-type rope.

I’m not sure what the point of tying Page to the merry-go-round was. Probably another one of those journey-type things.

Anyway, after a while, it started to get late and before long, Page was getting called home for dinner. Time to untie Page.

The problem was, as hard as I tried, I couldn’t get Page untied from the merry-go-round. This was likely due to my top-notch knot tying skills, but it didn't help that his mother (a rather rough character) kept calling him and calling him. It's hard to untie skillfully tied knots when someone keeps yelling like that.

Still, it wasn't that big of a deal - until I, too, started to get called in for dinner.

Being the true friend that I was, I kept at it - but after a while, it became obvious that we were both going to get in trouble for being late, which was pointless. Why should we both get in trouble when only one of us was tied to the merry-go-round? It made no sense.

So... I went in to eat dinner.

About halfway through the meal, someone asked if Page went home. “No,” I said. “He’s still tied to the merry-go-round.” All of a sudden, everyone jumped up and ran outside to help get Page untied, like it was some big emergency. Apparently, it’s ok if other people disrupt dinner, but it's not ok when I do it. (Note the double standard.)

Turned out, no one else could untie Page, either. Dad finally had to cut the ropes to get Page off the merry-go-round. Even I could have done that - if I had been allowed to play with knives. (Yet another double standard.)

I don't know what Page told his parents about all of this, but whatever it was, it wasn't enough to bother them. He still came over to play and hang out all the time. This might have had something to do with the fact that his parents were the type of people that would send him out to play in sub-freezing weather to "toughen him up". Maybe they figured this entire tied-to-the-merry-go-round-for-half-a-day experience was just one more thing that would help in that department. Maybe I was doing them a favor.

Anyway, many years later, when we finally got rid of the merry-go-round, it still had a knot of rope tied to one of the cross bars - a remnant of the time Dad had to cut Page loose to set him free - and a testament to my excellent knot making skills.

Throughout the remainder of our grammar school days, Page continued to come over, joining me in digging more booby-traps, setting more pennies on the train tracks and god knows what else.

Some people, especially those with poor judgement, never learn. Thank goodness.

Optical Delusion

Want to see something weird? Sure you do.

I posted the above photo on Instagram the other day. It's a bunch of flowers (in case you couldn't tell)  which I spotted beneath a tree on, yes, yet another one of our walks. It looked so pretty and out of place - the only bunch like it we saw all afternoon.

The thing is, it looks like a pretty large patch, but it's really pretty small.

After I took the photo above, Sam decided that taking some pictures seemed like a pretty good idea and he snapped some too.

Here are a couple of pictures of Sam snapping his photos...

When I look at these photos, I feel like it's some kind of weird optical illusion - like Sam is way in the foreground and the bunch of flowers are way behind him. But no, they're all in the same plain! Amazing and weird, right?
(If you disagree, feel free to keep your opinions to yourself.)

Today's Playlist

I'm playing my Van Morrison playlist at home today - something I usually reserve for the car. This playlist is years old, probably twenty-five years or more. It's one I made back when the kids were small and boy, does it bring back memories...

This was in heavy rotation back then, back when we would go tooling around on our weekend adventures.

It doesn't get played as often as it used to - not due to a lack of interest - more due to a lack of little ones to share adventures with.

Regardless, it's still on my phone. It seemed like a good idea to play it on this grey, so-far low-key day. I'm not sure this was the wisest of ideas. Even though I'm home, I find it's making me feel a little homesick.

You would think I would know enough to shut it off. But no, I keep listening. Part of me feels like I should wallow in my oncoming borderline depression now, while I have the opportunity. Soon the sun will be coming out and it might evaporate. Better enjoy it while I can.

Here's a couple of videos. And because I know you're busy, the second "video" is music only - leaving you free to do other things.

Totally Not About Going for Another Walk

Just kidding, it is... sorry.

The thing is, lately, if I weren't posting about going for a walk, I wouldn't be posting about anything at all (except for maybe shucking five pounds of peanuts). I'll let you decide which is preferable.

It rained all day yesterday so Sam and I didn't get outside (hence, the shucking of the peanuts - which I'm pretty sure is what most people do on rainy days) - so we made up for it today.

The rain tapered off by late morning so we started weighing our possible route options for an afternoon walk. This is not as easy as it sounds. We're running low on ideas for places that are new and different - which explains our drive to the Quabbin the other day.

Today, as we were getting ready to retrace our well-worn path through Neighboring Town #1, Sam got an email from some family friends who talked about all of the walks they had been going on, and one place they mentioned was walking through Neighboring Town #2.

I'm not sure why I never thought of this. Old age? Fatigue? Old age? Probably a combination of all three. In any case, it sounded like an idea good enough to be my own, but we went anyway.

I've been to this area many, many times and several times, I've driven by here with Sam. But this is the first time we've walked this area as extensively, either alone or together.

It was a nice walk through a mostly rural area. Sam managed to deal with a brief whiff of the aroma emanating from a massive pile of cow manure - before suggesting we make a turn down an adjoining dirt road. And for the most part, we both managed to zigzag past the large and frequent puddles filled with mud, water or otherwise.

With today's walk, our grand total for walking this week (so far) is just under twelve miles. I'm pretty sure that this is more walking than I did for the entire year last year (excluding back and forth to the bathroom).

We may or may not get out again tomorrow. We'll have to wait and see. As I write this, it's raining out, yet again, hard - this time accompanied by thunder and lightning.

I guess we made it back just in time.

I don't know if this storm will clear out by tomorrow. If we do get out, I'm pretty sure it will be to Neighboring Town #1. They have a pizza shop we like, and Sam and I both agree that ordering a pizza to bring home after a long Saturday morning walk sounds like a pretty good idea - which, by the way, I sometimes have.

Anyway, here are more pictures...