Speeding to Connecticut
For the past thirty five years we have been driving to Connecticut from Maryland to visit with family. For twenty years we traveled from Connecticut to Maryland to visit family. Along the way we’ve had family in New Jersey, Delaware, Virginia and Florida. We’ve made these adventures via Plane and automobile. Just two weeks ago we made the journey via Amtrak.
Our daughter Sarah and husband Greg provided transportation to the Wilmington, DE Train Station. Those two world travelers were inroute to Philadelphia’s airport and a trip to England & Spain. Wilmington is on the way should you not be geographically literate. So much for having to take the Bayrunner shuttle from SBY to BWI Amtrak station. Some bucks saved there.
The train we would travel on was the Acela. Top speed on this sleek train is 170 MPH. Thats 273 Kilometers per hour for you folks in the rest of the world. Change to the Metric System and get rid of Day Light Saving time I say. Amtrak has a great site for tracking it’s trains. I’m a bit of a map freak and I used this site often to orient myself.
At the present time I use a cane quite often, bum knee and vertigo make a 3 point upright position easier. Elevators at Wilmington and our destination in New Haven, Connecticut helped me immensely with my navigation in the train station. My son met us in New Haven with a wheelchair in New Haven. Thanks Matt. Entry to the individual cars on the train is level with the train entrance. There is a bit of a gap, use caution should you travel this way. As in Great Britain “Mind the Gap” they say.
Once on the train we found our assigned seats in our assigned car. The station platform is marked for where each car stops. We were in a four seat cube with a table in front of each seat, (foldable). Our seat mates as far as NYC were an unrelated man and woman, business types were I guessing. A nod hello and a smile and the words “pleasant rest of the trip”, from the woman who slept most of her journey. The man, dropped a gym bag on his seat and I’m guessing spent the ride to NYC in the Cafe Car. Here’s another bloggers analyses of the Cafe Car. While pulling into Penn Station in NYC our mail seat mate returned, gathered his bag, and set off to detrain.
While enroute to NYC a server, offering drinks and snacks came around, credit card and Apple Pay only. Funny, she never mentioned peaches or orange pay. Mary Agnes had herself a glass of Sauvignon Blanc wine. I stayed with my bottled water.
With our seatmates gone two new companions arrived. One, a woman from Minnesota now living in Bourne, MA, the other, a man from Connecticut now living north of Boston. We chatted off and on and learned the woman was in Plastic Sales and the man Software sales. Our female companions mother back in Minnesota was soon to turn 101 years old and lives in her own home. These two seatmates would exit the train in Boston. Our male companion arrive damp after a 25 block jog in the rain wearing shorts and T shirt. Only negative during the entire trip, It was a cold ride. I had a hoodie, the wife a jacket, and she was still cold. She said it was 53 f with a wind chill of 45.
We would arrive in New Haven four minutes late. Our son met us with a wheelchair, and several elevator rides to the parking garage we were on our way north to the kids home an hour away.
The reason for the trip, Granddaughter Rebecca’s HS graduation. Congrats Kiddo, Bryant College in RI, next stop.
As far as safety is concerned we never felt apprehensive at all during the trip. Uniformed law enforcement was visible in all stops as well as officers with dogs at Wilmington and New Haven. The trains were clean and seats comfortable with easy baggage storage. We will definitely ride the rails again soon.
Our return trip four days later would go from New Haven’s Union Station to Baltimore’s BWI Station. I’ll make that trip my next blog. Have a great day my friends.
Please, don’t forget to check on the elderly. Semper Fi
Way back in 1998
I pulled out my old computer recently and just meandered about, what was I was doing 15 years ago. Writing my first Blog is what I found. It’s hard to believe I’ve been doing this for so many years. So, this is what I did early in the day back then. The little woman was working as a Nurse back then, so no one was around to say “Are you ever going to get off that thing? Today she is retired and I swear, looks at recipes on Facebook all day long. she will deny this of course. I still go to Refdesk quite frequently, as well as the weather. I just love tracking and doing my own predictions on Tropical Storms.
All in all, my first Blog was not that interesting, read on if you wish, have a great weekend and Semper Fi.
My First Day with a BLOG
Blog, kind of sounds like a cold, or a zit or some kind of an affliction. My first day with a blog, now what do I do with it?
Well to start off I’ll let the world know how I start my day on the Internet.
My start up page is http//refdesk.com
Having spent twenty years in Connecticut I next go to http://www.courant.com/ to check on the local news and how the UCONN Huskies are doing in any given season. I’m a forty year Huskie fan. http://www.uconnhuskies.com/
Next up, but sometimes #1 is the weather. While in the Marine Corps, way back when, I was in Weather as an occupation with Rawinsonde as a sub specialty. http://usmilitary.about.com/library/milinfo/marineenjobs/bl68.htm
I use a variety of weather related sites www.nws.noaa.gov/ #1, my other favorites are www.accuweather.com and www.weatherunderground.com
During the Hurricane season I live by the National Hurricane Center. www.nhc.noaa.gov/
I have friends and family in CT, FL, CA, and affections to Key West, FL, Pagosa Springs, CO, Flagstaff, AZ and Ireland and Germany. So, I usually check on the weather in those places.
Next it’s off to the Washington Post and Washington Times to get two diametric views on the news. www.washingtonpost.com
After the two DC papers I go to Google News, which I have preference settings in and glance over that. Next is onto my mail servers.
From then on I usually have a Memo Pad with notes on things to look up and it’s off I go. This all starts shortly after I get up, usually around 0500. Once downstairs it’s a hot cup of tea or coffee to start the day . During the day finds me Journaling, been doing that since 2011. My latest continuing read is “The Paris Review.” Want to make some changes in your life? Try reading “Atomic Habits by James Clear.” Thanks to daughter Kathryn for that one!
Here, I’ve given the world the start of my day for the start of a BLOG. I shall end this bantering with saying Cead Mile Failte
And Please, Don’t forget to check on the elderly!
Woof Woof
I’m going to share something from “The Paris Review,” it’s one of my yearly expenses and I’m reading of the works of many people past and present. What is the “Paris Review” you ask.
- The Paris Review, American literary quarterly founded in 1953 by Peter Matthiessen, Harold L. Humes, and George Plimpton, with Plimpton also serving as the first editor. It is an English-language review modeled on the independent literary magazines (also known as “ little magazines ”) published in Paris in the 1920s.
After reading this poem in the most recent review, I could not but look at my own pets down through the years, especially dogs.
My dogs started with a Mutt named Lady, I can not remember when she crossed the Rainbow Bridge. However I do know the loss of a pet can be an emotionally devastating experience. I do know Lady was my pal early in life back in the 40’s. Somewhere around the age of 9 or 10 we adopted Scarlet & Amber, Dalmations from the same litter. They were inseparable and lasted at most, and I’m guessing, a month? They had to be returned as they were not good house pets I was told.
Next was Co Co, full name CoCO Mimi Celest by Hecht. I turned that girl into a hunting a dog, ten yards out, back and forth, Quail, Grouse, Pheasant or whatever, kick it to the air she would. She loved the hedgerows of Burlington County, NJ back in the late 50’s and early 60’s. Most of those hedge rows and birds no longer exist. The only downfall of this girl was, she hated getting her feet wet. Whenever we came to a stream, I’d cross, lay the Shotgun down and return for CoCo’s ride across the water.
In 1969 or 70 I brought home from work a medium sized scruffy wire haired dog named Ping. The name, she used to lay beneath the Ping Pong table at the firehouse I worked at. An old LaFrance (1947) 100 ft aerial ladder truck co. in Hartford, CT is what I rode. Back in the day I like to say.
The Mrs. wasn’t too keen on this pathetic looking creature and I remember her saying, “If he so much as nips once, any of the children, out he goes. The kids, a new born, one, 1 yo and another age 3. Never a nip, had that wonderful pet for a good ten years. Called her Ping the Wonder Dog back in the day.
A Yellow Lab with the name of Saucy would also join us those years in Connecticut. Once the fruit of the vine appeared, we continuously found Cucumbers on our lawn from neighbors gardens, the Lords bounty.
After my retirement from the CT State Police we moved to the Eastern Shore of Maryland, a sort of compromise between Maine, the Mrs. choice, and Florida, my choice. We wound up getting a Black Lab – Mix, and what we suspect was the father, a Collie named Chief. That Mutts name was Troop.
We would have a Marsh and a Duke along the way. Next to last we had a Maggi, a Standard Poodle and presently, another Standard Poodle, Benjamin.
Many of the atributes mentioned in the poem I am about to share existed in one or all of our past canines.
Without further ado, I share with you.
| Erica Jong Jubilate Canis (With apologies to Christopher Smart) For I will consider my dog Poochkin (& his long-lost brothers, Chekarf & Dogstoyevsky). For he is the reincarnation of a great canine poet. For he barks in meter, & when I leave him alone his yelps at the door are epic. For he is white, furry, & resembles a bathmat. For he sleeps at my feet as I write & therefore is my greatest critic. For he follows me into the bathroom & faithfully pees on paper. For he is almost housebroken. For he eats the dog food I give him but also loves Jarlsberg swiss cheese. For he disdains nothing that smells— whether feet or roses. For to him, all smells are created equal by God— both turds and perfumes. For he loves toilet bowls no less than soup bowls. For by watching, I have understood democracy. For by watching him, I have understood democracy. For he turns his belly toward God & raises his paws & penis in supplication. For he hangs his pink tongue out of his mouth like a festival banner for God. For though he is male, he has pink nipples on his belly like the female. For though he is canine, he is more humane than most humans. For when he dreams he mutters in his sleep like any poet. For when he wakes he yawns & stretches & stands on his hind legs to greet me. For, after he shits, he romps and frolics with supreme abandon. For after he eats, he is more contented than any human. For in every room he will find the coolest corner, & having found it, he has the sense to stay there. From issue no. 71 (Fall 1977) |
| Don’t forget to check on the elderly. theRooster |
As The Rooster Crows 
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