Totality!

I made a quick, last-minute, trip to the Midwest to see the eclipse.

A year ago, I read in the morning paper about how there was going to be a total eclipse of the sun in April 2024, crossing a wide swath of the United States, including the midwest and northeast. I decided this was probably my last chance to see a TOTAL eclipse, which I had heard from a friend is completely different from a partial eclipse. One point of the newspaper article I read was that accommodations were already being booked:  make your plans NOW! So I did, and wrote about it here.  

I didn't think about it again until I received an email in November from Airbnb, saying the place I booked was now off Airbnb, and my reservation was cancelled. I immediately browsed possible replacements, and I booked another, nicer, place just a few blocks away for a bit more money. Then, early this year, I got a very nice email from the owner saying he was converting the spot to a long term rental (better for affordable housing market in Cleveland, bad for my eclipse prospects). I decided it just wasn't going to happen.

Then in early March I got the first of several long emails from my very close friend J in Ann Arbor. He sent it to a couple of dozen people, talking about organizing a day trip from Ann Arbor down into the wilds of Ohio to the path of totality. I was interested, but this coincided with my life being taken over by doggie healthcare (something which persists to this day). So I stayed on the communications list, but made no reply.

By Easter, I decided I really wanted to go visit my friends and see the eclipse! Little Sadie dog was doing somewhat better, and my local nephew agreed to watch her (and the more robust Bixby) while I went away. I talked to J, and found to my delight that another couple of old friends (now residents of Bristol, England) were also going to be staying there, so only the couch was the bed on offer. But J rolled out the red carpet for me, insisted on airport rides, and found me a spot in one of the 9 cars signed up for the caravan!

I go way back with these folks. Most of them are a few years older than me. I met S and J while I was an undergraduate and they worked at the University, and S and I became roommates a year after I graduated. J was part of our friend group, and a couple years later he and S became an item. The three of us rented a house for the next three years, and after I got my masters and moved to Ohio S&J tied the knot. 

Roughly five years later, I was living in the Chicago area and bought a house in Evanston. Coincidentally, G, part of that Ann Arbor friend group, was just starting grad school at Northwestern in Evanston. He moved into my house for a few years. He met a woman who worked at his department, C, and they fell in love! When G got a job in Bristol, C went with him. Eventually they married and became UK citizens. I visited them there once, but we fell out of direct contact (though kept up news of each other casually through my besties, S&J). This all happened in the days just at the dawn of the internet for common use, and email was not truly a thing yet, so it was much easier to lose touch. So it was a real treat to catch up with them in Ann Arbor ("so, what have you done in the last thirty years?").

Meanwhile, it turns out there was a core group of serious eclipse fans organized by J. A few of them went to Turkey, twice, in the early oughts to view total eclipses. In 2017, they did a short trip to the center of this country and viewed the eclipse at the centerline by simply pulling over to the side of the road. For our trip, J had a spreadsheet of every one going, with drivers and riders. I was assigned to ride with a couple I know from visits to Ann Arbor and also several international trips we have taken together. J and a couple of friends took a scouting trip to Ohio a couple of weeks in advance, and found two locations. Each was a couple of hours (normal traffic) from Ann Arbor, one towards Cleveland and the other due south in the middle of nothing. They set up and tested text groups including everybody going, and then also got a conference call number that would be able to be open for the entire day. J built download-able google maps directions for each location, with "highway" and "backroad" alternates. Based on news stories about possible crowds, J recommended each car be self-sufficient with food and drinks. A gas stop with restrooms had been selected close to each of the alternate locations, but J recommended in an email that perhaps each car might want their own roll of toilet paper.

The night before, J and a couple of his friends pored over the weather maps and forecasts, and selected the due south location as most likely to have clear skies. The die was cast!

Our group

The morning of, all the cars rendezvoused at a parking lot near the expressway entrance, and off our caravan went. I rode shotgun in my car, and dialed into the conference call. I kept it piped directly into my ears, so as to allow normal conversation in our car.  The first car in the chain reported on traffic conditions (medium slow as far as Ohio where totality began, and then thinning out) and gave tips about routing on the call. The first car reached the municipal park we had selected as the rendezvous, and reported the town was welcoming: open bathrooms, the adjacent school closed, a food truck, tshirts for sale and childrens's games available. We had considered driving on to the exact centerline by the side of a rural road, but we voted to stay put (3 miles from centerline) based primarily on the bathrooms.

Most of us arrived around noon, set up our chairs next to some bleachers, laid out a picnic lunch, and got out tripods and pinhole cameras, made our eclipse glasses and viewers ready to hand. Many of us had downloaded an app that provided updates in exact time based on GPS location, and J hooked his up to a bluetooth speaker. The eclipse began around 1 pm, totality was around 3, and it would be over around 5 pm. The app noted out loud when the eclipse began, gave a couple of updates on progress, and counted down to totality and end of totality.

What a fun time! There was lots of visiting and catching up. I had met many of the folks over the years, and G&C from Bristol were the celebrity guests. We all spent time gazing up through our glasses as the sun got smaller. I realized I didn't have any sunscreen on my face or arms, a real oversight in such a lovely, sunny day. There was a high haze, but no big clouds anywhere nearby. I wore sunglasses all the time I wasn't wearing eclipse glasses, until a couple of minutes before totality when I switched to my clear glasses.

During totality, edited to see people

Totality really is a big deal. The difference between 99% coverage (silvery somewhat dim light) and totality (dark) is stark. We had just under 4 minutes of totality, time enough to both look up at the sky and spot stars and planets, and also around at surroundings and the horizon, and to feel and listen. It got cooler as the eclipse progressed towards totality, and there was stirring of the wind. There was a palpable intake of breath from all of us at the moment of totality. Eclipse glasses came off, and we could look directly up. I have no pictures of the sun, because I wanted to just experience it.

Just after totality

After totality, we hung around for a while (a couple of toasts) and then people started packing up. We headed back north about a half hour before it was over. Going home there was a lot more traffic, but there weren't any big choke points of bridges or tunnels or mountain passes, so traffic just flowed north at medium speed via multiple straight, flat, 2 lane roads. For a while, every time the GPS recommended a new route, we took it, but after a while our driver decided to just slug it out on the expressway directly to home. Fewer decisions for a tired driver. It took about 3 hours (in contrast to the 2 hours down), not bad at all.

I stayed another day, so I had a chance to spend more time with my friends. We visited some nostalgia dining spots, walked many dogs many miles, and just hung out. Flights to and from were uneventful. I returned home to sad dogs, but I was very happy for the break - and the spectacular celestial event!

On the Road Again…

Sunset from the wharf;
Arrow points to my motel room

 I went to California to see my girl, but to be honest, this trip is at least as much for me. Adventure, going out and seeing and doing new things, is a big part of my self-conception. In the past couple of years, I’ve felt my life shrinking down. I love being at home. I love days where I am totally on my own, just doing things around the house and sinking down on the couch with a good book or three. But I don’t want to succumb to lowered expectations. I want a bigger life. And so here I am, in beautiful Santa Cruz California, ostensibly to see my girl but also to push and test myself. 

There’s something about California light on a sunny day that is special. No sooner did I pull out of the rental car garage than I had to pull over and put on my polarized dark sun glasses. At once, the scene so full of brightness as to be dazzling, became manageable but beautiful. A zillion shattering shades of green clarified into recognizable plants. Deep inpenetrable shadows popped into focus. Flowers were blooming, skies were a deep bright blue. I took the single winding road that led from San Jose, at the south end of Silicon Valley, up over the mountain ridge and down to the coastal community of Santa Cruz. 

Art on the wharf

While I love exploring, there is also comfort in going back to a place where I’ve spent at least a little time. Far from feeling at home, but not truly foreign, either. I am so happy I sprang for the extra cost of a beach-front motel, instead of the perfectly adequate but not special place I stayed last summer. The place is a low-slung two-story building built close to the cliff road along the water, with its back firmly towards the road and its face enjoying the water. Once through the gate and onto the property, there are unrestrained views to the town beach, wharf, boardwalk, and out across the large Monterrey bay, all set off by nice landscaping and spots to sit and watch the beach and water. From my room I can not only see the surf, but hear it. Yesterday morning, sitting on a terrace overlooking the beach, I realized the other noise I heard was seals barking from the wharf. The wooden structure under the flat top of the wharf is beloved by them, having many support beams that are comfy places for them to flop around. On my first visit here, I spent a long time watching them, enjoying the dynamics as they constantly shifted around and challenged each other for the nicest spots.

Watching beach life from the motel terrace

This location is also convenient for places to eat and shop. The first night I had a bowl of clam chowder sitting at a bar on the wharf, watching the sun set and chatting about the local brews with a couple of software bros in for the day from Texas. “Downtown” is a mile away, and I’ve walked there a couple of times for meals, with and without my girl. Any random glance in this place would make it clear we’re not in Maryland anymore. Palm trees and succulents, mission and arts and craft architecture, signs proclaiming “anarchist garden spaces” (ok, I might find that last in Takoma Park!). 

My first morning, I woke shortly before 5 am local time and decided I might as well get up and drink coffee. I’m not really going to be here long enough for it to be worth adjusting to the time zone. First light was at 6. First, there was an orange glow above the hills on the horizon. It expanded, shaded to bright yellow, and kept on growing both horizontally and vertically. Finally, with an intense brilliant yellow shimmer, the sun peeked and then rose into a circle about the horizon, centered in my window. Wait, what??!! I’m in California, this is the goshdarn Pacific bloody Ocean, why am I seeing a sunrise, not a sunset? I had to get out my tablet and Google Earth, and set it up so that I could get oriented. Santa Cruz is at the north end of Monterrey Bay, a big scallop in the north-south coastline of California. I’m positioned to look across the Bay, facing southeast, hence the sunrise. The sky took a couple of hours to deepen into the brilliant blue from the day before. I don’t think I’ve seen such a spectacular sunrise since I was at sea on my way to Bermuda in 2021.

Much of Santa Cruz town is flat, sitting on a plateau above the ocean, with steep cliffs down to the water. The walking is great, around town and on a path along the cliffs. The campus is up a mountain above the town, heavily wooded. There is a lovely arboretum, where my girl and I spent a nice time in the brilliant sun wandering and talking and looking at exotic flora. Tbh, ordinary California flora is pretty exotic to me, but I guess this stuff, from similar climates in Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa, are special. My knee is still recovering, but it’s holding up well. I’ve had more steps yesterday and today than any day since my operation, and except for needing to stretch it, I’ve been fine.

Otter and kelp; art on a traffic island

The first day and yesterday were brilliant blue; today is grey with occasional drizzles. Sitting on a terrace overlooking the beach yesterday (while my girl took care of some school business in the motel room), I watched beach volleyball, surfers (all in wetsuits), and a bevy of women swimming in the very cold water. The air temperature was in the 60s, but the unrelenting California sun made it very warm (and I slathered my exposed skin with sunscreen). Santa Cruz is said to be where Hawaiians introduced Californians to surfing - it has a surfing museum and several Hawaiian restaurants and bars. (I plan to get some poke tonight). 

Things are well with my girl, and increasingly, I’m sure they will be well with me. Such a nice trip!

Comfort Food and Sour Pickles

My knee recovery continues. Sadly, my stomach problems continue as well. I stocked up on food before the surgery, but sadly much of the food I stocked up on isn't suitable for my temperamental acid stomach. For example, I adore Trader Joe's Palaak Paneer, thinking of it almost as a pudding, soft nursery food that doesn't need chewing. But while Indian food folks would consider it bland, I normally cool it down with yogurt or creme fraiche. But I'm not considering trying it for a while. I do have plenty of actual truly bland food, and basics to make more (scrambled eggs coming into their own), so I'm fine for supplies. But it made me think about what gives comfort.

My job is to recover, and in between home exercise bouts and off to PT, I'm consuming entertainment at an unprecedented rate. But it's all comfort food. I'm not looking to be scared or disturbed. I want happy endings. I normally feel guilty about this, and stack up my book and movie queues with some more challenging material, my sour pickles that add interest to a bland life. But right now, nope.

After going literally months without watching TV, I reviewed my watch lists I have set up. Imagine my delight to find a British detective series I love, Shetland, has not one but two seasons out I haven't seen. I have also watched older movies (The Big Year, about bird watching!) and will be looking at the list for more. John Scalzi is doing a blog series on "comfort watches" and I'm adding to my list from his suggestions. I'm not big on re-watches (too many new things out there) but some movies truly stand up over years and repeated viewings. I'm thinking I'd love to introduce my girl to A Fish Called Wanda, one of the greats.  

I constantly keep a queue of ebooks and audiobooks on request at the library, and many of my sour pickles come from there - books that I hear about from reviews. But I'm ruthless at abandoning them if I'm not swept away (in a good way) before very far into the book. I don't know if I'll go back and try them again when I feel more resilient, or if they had their shot and I'm done. I've been listening to books (as opposed to reading) more than usual, and again, if it doesn't engage me, it's terminated quickly. Whether reading or listening, my usual mix of mysteries and thrillers is holding a much larger percentage of feel good books. I'm not sure of the category, there are apparently romances and women's fiction and book club books, I don't know how they sort out. Some of the ones called romances are so bad, predictable and pablum, that I can't handle them either. Right now, I am enjoying Elin Hilderbrand books: all with a connection to Nantucket, with characters who make bad choices but are not bad people, and who get through bad things happening. And not always paired off, either. But they are all OK by the end.

I find science fiction and fantasy to be really a crap shoot. I found a series with good values and plenty of snark, called "Murderbot", and saved up the latest for the day I came home from the hospital, and it did not disappoint.  But the author, Martha Wells, came out with a new fantasy series, and I slogged through the first third of the first book, to find the world-building tedious and overdone. Too many characters and races and types of magic being introduced, and getting in the way of bonding with the characters. Sigh.

I do read (mostly listen, actually) to non-fiction. This is the white rice of my entertainment stream - mostly history. My Audible membership gives me access to a pretty extensive catalog of older, less popular, audio books without having to buy them separately. So I've listened to a biography of Chaucer, another about the place of women in Tudor society, and I have more like that coming up. I like this very sedate but just enough intellectually engaging books as background to other things. Generally, I'll cue them up at bedtime. Guess what? If I fall asleep before the automatic cut-off, I may not rewind to catch what I missed. Who cares? I'm learning, but there won't be a test at the end so it's ok if I miss something. 

My latest jam is actually a podcast, though I'd put it in this history category. It's done by the public TV station in Boston, and it's an 8-part series about the Big Dig. Huh? I hear your minds whirring - what? Really? But yes, really. I am a YIMBY, sick of years of our not being able to build things, to carry out ambitious, big projects. The Green New Deal inspired me. I also spent some of my career at the US Department of Transportation, and I witnessed many infrastructure projects start and stop and be delayed and sometimes be killed, while others that ought to have been killed went steam rolling ahead. One of my work hobbies was reading Inspector General reports on topics related to my work (dealing with reports tied to my work was anything but fun, but we know misery loves company). The Big Dig was a multi-year field day for the IG. So this series starts way back in the 1960s and covers the personalities involved in Massachusetts and Boston politics, and the genesis of the project. I can picture some of the meetings and events described - I've been in the Secretary of Transportation's office while the fate of things like this were decided. I'm about half way through, and funding for the project was just approved in Congress, over-riding Reagan's veto. I know the ultimate outcome - my boy living in the Boston area benefits from the completed project - but I'm curious how they got there, and how common myths about events along the way have evolved.

New Knee!

 I'm very optimistic at the moment. Could drugs have something to do with that? Maybe? But drugs are part of the protocol, I'm supposed to be taking them!

Prep for the operation started well before Tuesday. I had a bunch of pre-op appointments to get cleared, and then there were elaborate instructions about cleaning myself the night before and morning of the operation, showers and special microbiome killing sponges to wipe everywhere. Surgery was scheduled for 8 am, but I had to be there two hours early. My BIL picked me up on the dot of 5 am, and followed me through the registration process. There became a standard call-and-response at every single stop - at least a dozen times that morning:  "What is your name?" "When were you born?" "Are you allergic to anything?". I had a qr code on my wristband that was scanned at every step.

In preop, (more wiping with special sponges), many people came by to introduce themselves. My surgeon came, (he signed my leg), a resident, a med student, and three or four members of the anesthesia team. ("What is your name?, etc., again!)

BIL stayed with me until they put the IV in, before starting the sedation. I gave up my phone, and they gave me a spinal block. By the time they wheeled me into the operating room, I was dead from the waist down. I couldn't feel a thing. The operating room was startling to me, not at all like Grey's Anatomy. Stark white, brilliant florescent lighting, almost shabby ceiling retrofitted with electrical mains and heating vents (my main view) and the room was really large - maybe they would have two patients in there at once? (BTW, they are opening a brand new surgical center next week, this was the swan song for the old side.) There seemed to be a lot of people in there! Shortly after arrival, they stuck my IV with sedation, and I was out.

I woke up still in the OR, still dead from the waist down. Whoever talked to me then said things went really well, and confirmed it was the partial (not a full) knee replacement, yay! I got wheeled down to recovery, where I stayed for a while, long enough to have two nurses because of a shift change. The goal for recovery, said the nurse, was to be able to bend both knees, raise both legs, and wiggle all my toes. Then they could move me on into a room, since I was going to be admitted. She raised my leg to demonstrate, and it was very disorienting to see my leg and feel nothing from its visible movements.

At first, recovery was AWFUL! I had the most awful shakes, shivering all over. Actually, the spinal block was still in effect so I have no idea if I was shivering below the waist. But above, my goodness! It came in waves, with a build-up, peak, and rapid fall-off. I tried to retreat to my mindfulness techniques, focused on my breathing, and that worked great in between the episodes, but when my body was uncontrollably shaking that was all I could think about. But then, sensation began to come back to my legs. First tingles, then the nurse said I was wiggling my toes. It was the weirdest thing - trying consciously to send a message to my toes to wiggle, and feeling no feedback that I was successful. But slowly, slowly, the feelings came back as the shivers abated. I got curious, and explored where I had feelings and what movements I could execute with my legs. It helped. All told, from shivers to feeling back in my legs, was about an hour. They had added a nerve block for the knee to take effect as the spinal block wore off, and so there was a magic moment when I felt great - zero pain! No shivers! And then they brought lunch, and I was hungry and scarfed down every bite. Then I realized I could have my stuff back and I got my kindle and phone and ipad, no boredom ever.

While still in recovery the PT folks came and got me up. It was good timing, I needed to pee, and really didn't want to use a bed pan. So I walked with a walker to the bathroom, and then to a stairwell, where I climbed two stairs - a hurdle I'd have to get into the house. When I got back to my bed, I was exhausted and in pain.

Finally I went up to the room. The nurses were really good at writing names down on the little white board in my room, I really appreciate that. Sadly, it was a very small double room and I had a fractious, noisy room-mate. We weren't allowed to close the door, so noise and light were constant. By the time dinner arrived, I had lost my appetite and "discomfort" had grown to pain. Over the course of the night, I had enormous heartburn pain, nausea, and stomach cramps. I had brought my noise-cancelling over-the-ear headphones, and a silk eyeshade, and that's the only reason I got any sleep at all. I listen to books, and all night I would tee up a chapter, close my eyes, and hope for sleep by the time the chapter was done. But I would open my eyes to realize my roommate was making a phone call (to Australia?) or complaining about something, or simply moaning. Of course, they came in to check vitals, give me drugs, and generally keep me from getting any rest. So I slept maybe twenty minutes at a time?

The following morning, I was awake at 5 and so was my roommate. But after the escorted trip to the bathroom and a new set of drugs, I actually got some deep sleep! An hour or two at least. All day, my knee hurt, but less than my stomach. They had added an anti-nausea med and also tums, and maybe that helped. I had PT and OT folks visiting, and they told me what to focus on for the next week, until I start PT. Two of my surgeon's residents stopped by, and they each emphasized how well the operation went. I mean, their eyes were glowing! I hope that bodes well for recovery. The hospital sent me home with twenty pages of discharge information and four pill bottles (to be supplemented with two OTC drugs at home). Helpfully, the medication instructions included the timing for the next dose of each. 

BIL, who had checked in on me many times, took me home. It was so nice to be swarmed by the doggos! He heated up some soup for me, but I couldn't manage more than a few swallows. I hurt all over. But I verified I could walk with the walker throughout the first floor, get into and out of bed, and go to the bathroom. BIL courageously stood by in case I needed him, but I didn't. Shortly, I took to my bed. In a few hours, my friend came over for the night, and it was comforting to have someone there, even if I didn't need them to do anything specific. Restless and uncomfortable all night, with intermittent books, but I took joy in the fact I could actually roll over to one side, off my back. (Other side not available yet.)

Another friend, who lives a ways away, came down later on Thursday. She made supper, and we watched a movie (NYAD! See it!). I was in bed by 7:30 pm (despite a couple of naps during the day). Again, a restless night, but at least five hours sleep (with ten hours in bed) according my tracking device.

Managing the medication is the hardest thing. I can take six different drugs, have to take at least three, and they all have different timings and limits. So of course I made a chart and I write it down. I am slightly addled from the pain meds, and I find I might not remember having taken a pill minutes after I did. So I am assiduous at checking them off. I am cautious on the strongest pain med, because it makes me woozy. I'm writing under its influence now, so please let me know if there is something here that's inappropriate. But by backing off some on the optional meds, I have got my stomach back under control, and my appetite is back. The fact is, the pain meds work, and if I don't take them there is a risk I'll do much less movement, which is bad in itself. So I'm taking less than the max, but not swearing them off completely. 

Today feels better than yesterday. I took a shower! (Hand wand and sitting on a stool.) No naps today, planning on a good night's sleep. Hopefully, tomorrow will feel better still.

Watching: The Holdovers

I don't watch a lot of TV or movies on TV. I turn the thing on maybe two or three times during a month, some months not at all. (Reading and listening to books and podcasts are my main entertainment.) And I stopped going to movies in person during the shutdown, of course. But I've actually seen FOUR movies in theaters so far this year! In order, Oppenheimer, Barbie, Stop Making Sense, and, last night, The Holdovers. Hooray for the movies!

The Holdovers was SO GOOD! I went in with few expectations and no reviews under my belt. I did see a trailer at one of my other movies, and I was expecting maybe a Breakfast Club type movie, with a cool mixed bag of misfits that would bond in the face of adversity. I guess it had that, but it was so much more!

Do go see it! I went to bed thinking about it, and I was still under its spell when I woke up. 

Minor spoilers below, perhaps, but not major.

The period setting is totally spot on. Imagine my surprise to realize that the main kid is exactly my age - a high school junior in 1970. I guessed the year early on by the hair on the high school boys. There are many lovely details, and I was taken with the music. Only a little was composed just for the movie, most were low-key sounds appropriate to the time, holiday, folk, rock, blues, jazz. Recognizing snippets kept me smiling through the whole thing. New England and Boston were also spot on, including a glimpse of a picture of the Kennedys on a kitchen wall. Clothes, interiors, language, all seemed perfect. Vietnam looms, though also true to form, it (mostly) doesn't loom too large for these largely privileged and sheltered people. 

The movie only slowly moves to a crescendo, getting better throughout. As the focus narrows to just three very diverse people, their characters, troubles and motivations sucked me in. None of these peoples have life circumstances remotely like my own, but I cared deeply for them. I watched how they began to care for each other, and I was rooting for them to be better than they were. I was wearing a mask in the theater, and so my tears and dripping nose were largely invisible. There will clearly be acting awards, for any of the three principals. We spent a moment afterwards imagining which scene would be played for each in nominations.

After the biggest crisis occurs near the end, there is a brief coda where you get a glimpse of the possible futures for these deeply human creatures I grew to care about so much. Imagining how that will go is part of what has kept me wrapped up in it. I would also like to see the whole movie again, maybe when it becomes available for streaming. The pacing at the beginning is slow, and I would like to hone in on how telling details are slowly revealed as the layers of the story are built.

Love to hear what others think!

Quick Trip to Bliss

Just some of the boats at the festival

I was sitting in my recliner, minding my own business, when I got an email from a photography group I subscribe to. They were offering a half day photo field trip entitled "Majestic Tall Ships". 

OK! Boats and photography? Sign me up!

The trip was the last Saturday in October, at the annual Chestertown Downrigging Festival on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. I know about this festival, but I had never been. There are a couple of tall ships based in Chestertown, and for the festival more ships come to join them for an end of season party (it turns out they are most gregarious). I almost went to the festival last year - via my own true love, the Pride of Baltimore II - but the timing didn't work for me. 

A detail from the fancy replica Swedish ship, Kalmar Nichol

Chestertown is an old town on a long river that winds many miles through the flat Eastern Shore peninsula from the Chesapeake Bay just north of the Bay Bridge. I've sailed up the Chester River in my boat, anchored and spent the night, but not made it quite as far as Chestertown. I did drive to the town once, on a winter weekend. I wandered the cobblestone streets, admired the old buildings with rippled glass, and spent quite a bit of time in a used book store with an extensive maritime collection, and ate a crab cake with a beer. But that was years ago and I hadn't been back.

Once I signed up for the photo workshop, I contemplated logistics. Chestertown is about two hours away, if traffic on the Bay Bridge is reasonable. This is a very big "if". The workshop started early in the morning, and I would want to start early enough to enjoy a buffer to the start time. So I decided to check out the options to go the night before and stay in Chestertown.

I was sad to check out lodging options and discover that the few options not sold out were very expensive. Big city expensive. Except for one motel, absurdly cheap and by far the closest location to the waterfront. I'm a penny pincher but not a completely stupid, so I read reviews. Generally, they said "clean enough but really run down". I went with the cheapo option.  And, because I would be on my feet all day (I signed up for a boat ride in the afternoon after the workshop) I thought I would look at staying the two nights. I really wasn't sure what my stamina would be like. I might want a crab cake and a beer after my day on my feet, and driving home in the dark might not be great. El Cheapo was so cheap I could sign up for two nights for less than one in any other option.

The one on the left is my girl, the Pride
The one on the right is the Lynx

I headed out Friday night in the late afternoon, with camera equipment, some snack foods, and a sleeping bag liner and my own pillow. Oh, and a door stop in case I didn't like the lock on the door. I came into Chestertown just a few minutes after sundown, along the waterfront, and the silhouettes of masts and rigging teasing the delights in store for me the next day. The GPS took me to the motel, which was good because there was no sign visible from the road. I had to be buzzed into the office, where a perfectly pleasant young man checked me in and handed me my key. My room was just down from the office in a well-lit location, and I checked out the room. Remembering my "avoid bedbugs" advice I didn't bring in my stuff at first, but reviewed the situation. I pulled up the sheets and looked at the mattress - it looked new, as did the bed linens and pillows. The tiny bathroom had cheerful colorful tile the same vintage and pattern as mine at home and showed its age. But it and the towels were acceptably clean. There was a standard motel heating and cooling unit in the wall under the window, and I got it going. The door had a solid deadbolt that went into a metal frame on the door. I decided that compared to car camping in a state park, (I actually had one spotted as backup) this motel with new sheets was luxury, and it would be fine for the night.

I headed into town to check out the rendezvous for the morning, and to see what could be seen. Things were jumping! Traffic and pedestrians crowds everywhere. After getting orientated, I headed back to the motel. Despite its location across a parking lot from a large liquor store, it was quiet and I felt safe. It was late enough I went to bed with a book and then had a fine night's sleep. The one thing really wrong with the room was, though it had a microwave and little refrigerator, there was no way to make coffee. I had brought instant coffee with me, (part of my travel kit) but there was no cup to hold water in the microwave! I ended up driving a half mile to a McDonalds, maybe the first time in a decade I've been to one. But I do still like a sausage mcmuffin.

My girl
(There was actually very little wind, so the sails are for show)

I made the rendezvous with no problem. The early start meant good free parking. There were about a half dozen photographers there with the instructor, easily identified by their big cameras and backpacks full of lenses and other equipment. (I have a single all in camera because I decided a few years ago I was done with the schlep. It's still a very good camera, with many bells and whistles for adjustments that I am still learning how to use. But it's comparatively light and small.)

We had a fabulous, unseasonably warm, bright and cloudless day. There was a forest of masts from the tall ships. There were also many smaller classic craft, both sailboats and classic motor boats, some of which reminded me of the boats that were common on Bellport Bay in my youth. The big boats were available for deck tours, with crew providing answers to questions. Mid morning, the boats all went out for sails, and we got pictures of them underway from shore. In the afternoon, our workshop was done but most of us stayed and took afternoon sails. It was so fun to all head down the river and back up in company. Many of the smaller craft came with us. I was aboard a smaller schooner that is the official tall ship of the state of New Jersey, the AJ Meerwald. I was purely deck cargo, shifting out of the way of the crew working the ship, and gazing all around. And taking lots and lots of pictures!

The big one is the Kalmar Nichol.
She is a replica of a ship that came to Delaware Bay
in the early 1600s.

I figure I've actually spent cumulatively about six weeks aboard Pride of Baltimore II. I have a gazillion photos of her, all taken from aboard. I enjoy staring up the mast and with my camera capturing patterns and rhythm from the sails and rigging. But it was so fun to see the Pride from another ship, and to be able to get the whole ship in a single photo!

When we got back to the dock in the evening, I was done. It had been very hot, in the 80s, and I was fatigued in every muscle in my body. I strolled slowly into town, and fulfilled my quest for ice cream, which I ate while sauntering back to the car. I went back to El Cheapo Motel, and I took the world's quickest shower, checked out, and drove home in the dark. It was worth the extra night's charge just to have that shower. I was thrilled to get back home with the Cult de Sac party still underway, so I had a chance to chat with some neighbors and drink a beer before tumbling into bed. 

I did absolutely nothing the following day. I was wiped. But it was fabulous and worth it.

Why Don't Americans Have Electric Kettles?

My new drinks station

I've been trying to change some old habits that don't serve me well. In a coaching process I've been following,  they talk about using new habits with a "bigger better offer" to replace the old habits you want to quit. 

For years, I've known I have a late night eating habit. As I've been tuned into my body more I've found it's not always sweets I want, but real food. That is, real food with a comforting vibe. As I've made a point of buying only good bread and always having it sliced and on hand in the freezer, I've found myself having a thick slice or two of toast and butter and cheese or jam, right before bed. I doubt there is much health benefit in turning aside from chocolate and towards toast, but it's easier to convince myself I am truly hungry and I need something when the "something" is at least slightly closer to healthy than chocolate.

Also for years, I've tried to develop a before-bedtime tea habit. I like many herbal teas, and I like the warm beverage, and I like the idea of tea before bed. But I haven't been able to make it stick. I tried a ritual of using a teapot (I have two) and pouring out a cup or two, but that actually seemed like a lot of work compared to grabbing something right from the fridge. I know I am tuned to visual cues, and sometimes it is just a matter of even remembering tea as an option for me. So, I moved my teas into a clear box that lived on the kitchen counter. Sadly, that soon became part of the background and never drove a new ritual. When I have remembered the option of "tea instead", it hasn't felt appealing and I've turned away and reached for the easy sweet or starch.

Well, what else motivates me? Anyone who knows me knows I love a good new gadget! I happened on a sentence somewhere (no remembrance where) that said, "why don't Americans have electric kettles?".  I immediately answered that for myself: because I don't have space for another appliance. But I was taken with the thought of how much easier and quicker an electric kettle is than boiling water in a saucepan on the stove (and then slopping it when pouring from the pan into a mug or teapot) or in a pyrex jug in the microwave, needing to negotiate the hotpad to handle and pour. And so I took another look at my kitchen.

I strive to keep my counters relatively clear in my small kitchen. The only appliances that live on the countertops are daily use: microwave, toaster/convection oven, coffee maker, seltzer maker. I store other appliances (instant pot, food processor, rice cooker) in a low cabinet that is at capacity. I don't have a blender specifically because I don't know where I can store it. I have a bin for onions and other non-refrigerated vegetables on the countertop - I would put them out of sight in the cabinet if I could figure out a spot. But I had this box of teas sitting out on the counter from my failed attempt at visual cuing! If I could reconfigure the food cabinets to find space for the tea below, I could then put an electric kettle in that same spot, next to the coffee maker. 

So in order to cultivate my tea habit, I totally cleaned out my major food cabinet. I don't have a pantry closet in my kitchen- food lives in the fridge or in this cabinet, or with the onions in a bin, or on shelves in the basement. I consider the basement to be for "extra" stuff - I stocked up early in the pandemic, and have kept duplicate soups and beans and grains down there, but not things I'm going to grab every day. I took all the cans, bottles, jars, and boxes out of the cabinet and reviewed mostly expiration dates. I am fairly casual on the dates - things don't go bad overnight, and I figure if I'm cooking well, it'll kill most things. I do some weeding of expired foods all the time, but it had been a while since I looked at everything. By the time I had chucked things more than a year past the expiration date and rationalized with what was in the basement, I had room for a tidy box of teas in the cabinet. 

Part of my pantry cabinet, with tea bottom right

By then, I had already ordered an electric kettle and it was due to arrive the next day. I decided to further create a sense of indulgence around tea by acquiring a new cup to be especially for what I hoped would become a nightly habit. So I took a trip to where the rich people live and went to Crate and Barrel!

When I lived in Chicago in the 1980s, Crate and Barrel was a way of life. I probably went there a couple of times a month. I eat on a Crate and Barrel dining room table, drink from my Crate and Barrel glasses, and sleep on my Crate and Barrel bed, every single day. I remember when Ikea arrived in this country, I explained it to some people as a cheaper mass-market version of Crate and Barrel. (When I wanted to take my girl with me to Crate and Barrel when she was in high school, I described it as an upscale Ikea.)  I still love their housewares, even though their furniture has gone completely over the top and out of reach. So if I wanted a special mug, C&B was my destination.

I spent a long time admiring absolutely everything in the store. I had just read a novel about rich people from the upper east side of NY, and the vision of a C&B house decorated for Christmas entranced me. White, white, white, with accents of rich red and gold, and very rare dark green bits. Lights and candles everywhere! But I managed to restrain myself, (I do not need and cannot store a completely new holiday dish service!) and I got only a couple of new little ornaments, a cute Christmas mug, and two new mugs for tea (they were only $4 and $5 each!). Also a couple of Christmas presents for my kids who are prime housewares ages.

So far, I'm 3-for-3 nights with my cup of tea. So far so good, after my investment of a couple of hours of cabinet cleaning and a couple of hours round trip to C&B. I love my electric kettle, with 90 seconds to ready to pour! I love my new, clean-lined C&B mugs! My favorite tea is lemon-ginger, but I have a couple of others as well to rotate through, and I look forward to exploring more varieties. Am I cutting back my late night nosh? Well, I'm not really focused on "tea instead" so much as "tea first". If I still want something afterwards, I'll go get it. But so far, I haven't wanted anything else.

What are your favorite teas? Let me know in the comments!