Trip planning, a cycle…

A week from now we will be off again… This time to Puerto Rico for a few days, then a Caribbean cruise, followed by a night in Florida to visit The Son…

The trip has been in the works for some time… booked last spring… airfare purchased in July or so… a hotel in San Juan… then the trip kind of sat at the edge of our brains, while life, work, holidays and a dozen other things demanded our full attention.  Both of us are really looking forward to the trip… but we have limited plans once there… that planning has finally started and we are getting excited…  Normally we would have already researched and booked a few local guides… This time we haven’t.  There is a “roll call” for our sailing at Cruise Critics, but neither of us has been real active there.

Now, evenings, I am googling (by the way, Microsoft Word doesn’t recognize the word “googling”, I am not surprised, but a bit disappointed, even worse, Blogger doesn't... very strange) the various islands (St Croix, St Kitts, Dominica, Grenada, and St Thomas)  Tina and I have been to San Juan and St Thomas before, but the other islands are new…  I had picked up a good guide book a few months ago from my favorite used book pusher… Tina had printed our a couple of web guides many months ago… I discovered that AAA no longer publishes a Caribbean tour book… at least I have an old one…

We are unlikely to “do” the typical cruise trips which are seemingly offered at every cruise stop, world wide…  glass bottom boats, zip lining, or two hour “sights of…” bus tours with shopping opportunities (never underestimate the power of shopping opportunities).  St Kitts has a scenic railway, which to Tina’s surprise we will miss… or maybe avoid.  We are much more likely to get a local cab to a historical site or local market, or walk about town.  Several of the islands have significant national parks which we may visit…  Some islands have rum factories… we may miss the overly corporate Bacardi Rum Factory, but since it’s a fun ferry ride across the harbor maybe we will go anyway.  We are likely to visit the bar that is credited with inventing the Pina Colada…

By chance, we are in San Juan for the annual St Sebastian festival. That should be interesting (or overwhelming… we will soon know).  Last time we were in San Juan we spent all our time in Old San Juan… this time we will venture beyond…

So, with the trip a week away, there are packing lists… a box is starting to gather “stuff”… a GPS, maps, cameras and batteries and chargers.   I had problems with one camera a couple of months ago… that has been addressed.  I am trying to choose a few books to take… I keep a shelf filled with “to read” books, some have been there for several years… others are new to the shelf… 

The vacation is becoming real

Virginia, So Far... Or... Chasing Ghosts...

I started in Fredericksburg... Site of a Civil War Battle, some 150 years ago... That anniversary being the genesis for this trip.  One of my Great-great grandfathers was there...

The battle took place over several days, in December of 1862... Climaxing on December 13th when Union attacks on the "sunken road" and Prospect Hill were repulsed... But today is Sunday, December 9th, not the anniversary, but the "anniversary observed"

I arrived in town early, at dawn, drove about a bit, then drove to the far eastern end of the battlefield, Prospect Hill, where Pvt. William J B Sherman found himself, a member of the 55th Virginia, under command of Stonewall Jackson...

Much like the day of the battle, 150 years ago, it was cold and foggy... I had Prospect Hill to myself... I walked, to the rear, where troops were likely camped, and possibly sheltered during the Union shelling... Someone has left a makeshift memorial to their confederate ancestor who fought here...  Quite moving... Like my great-great grandfather he survived the battle... He survived the war as well, while my great-great grandfather was dead of fever within a few months.

I hiked the confederate trench line, then down the hill to the west where Meade and his troops broke through the confederate line...  Where there now stands a stone pyramid, a monument to the battle, erected by the Richmond, Potomac & Fredericksburg Railroad who's tracks bisected the battlefield then, and continue to today.

I hiked back up Prospect Hill, by now crowded with people here for the celebration or commemoration, or festivities, or whatever...

I return to town, to the NPS visitor center, now open... I "do" the sunken road walk... There are rangers and park volunteers everywhere... Buildings, not normally open are open... Guests are dressed in Civil War clothing, dodger and civilian, both northern, and southern...  I encounter people with pins, and patches sewn into jackets and vests... Each commemorating their visit to a previous 150th anniversary of another Civil War battle.

I move down into town, find a place to park, and walk around, finding a coffee house...  Most stores are closed (at least until noon)... It is Sunday, and while it might be the 150th anniversary celebration of the battle, it is also Sunday.

The local event committee has arraigned free shuttle busses... I find a shuttle stop, and ride across the river to Chatham House, where the re-enactors are... (the NPS will allow re-enactors to camp at Washington's boyhood home, and allow them to set up public displays at Park headquarters... But won't let them reenact the battle on the battlefield...

The shuttle buses were burrowed or rented from a local Christian school.  Our driver was more than a bit snarly...  We drove past the entrance of Chatham House, and into the parking lot of a strip mall.  The shuttle stop for Chatham House was in front of a closed retail store... When ask the driver referred us to the volunteer outside who told us it was his first day, and didn't know...  Several of us took off in search of Chatham House... It turned out to be behind the closed stores of the somewhat bleak retail strip mall...  Down an alley, through some trees and across a field... The house had a long history;  built before the war, it was the headquarters of a large plantation.  Durring the War it was a headquarters, a hospital, and a battery..  Of course by then of the war the place was a shambles, the slaves freed, the families fortune gone...

Eventually the land was sold off and it became the big house on the hill, now with formal gardens instead of tobacco.   It is hard to correlate what today is grand home with its plantation and wartime history...

Having seen Chatham I chose to walk back, rather than brave the shuttle...  It was a quick walk into town... By now the stores, having observed Sunday morning, were open.   I bought a cup of Brunswick Stew to go from a cafe... (Traditionally made with squirrel meat... I didn't ask)

At 1:00, there was a commemoration, and a walk, organized by NPS...  A bit of background... During the battle, the Union Army threw itself at well the well dug in army... The Union troops were mostly Irish units, raised in New York.  It was a blood bath... A waste of brave (mostly Irish) troops...

Now, today, the commemoration will include a current New York National Guard unit, the descendent of the Irish Battalions who fought here... In modern combat uniforms... They have a pair of Irish Wolfhounds with them, but I suspect they were found locally... There is a small contingent of the Irish Defense Force, flown in across the pond... Then the re-enactors... Re-enacting one of the Irish units, followed by confederate re-enactors, followed by the public... They are to walk the route taken by the Union troops as they attacked the confederate positions.

But first... Speeches, mercifully short, followed by two minutes of shelling... Really fireworks... 100 shells a minute... For two minutes... In 1862, the shelling went on for hours...  It was a powerful message.   Visceral… It raised thought of the town folks, hiding in basements… the shelling overwhelming… Then, the procession started... And the church bells began to toll... Each member of the public was offered a carnation to carry...

Eventually, the public was divided into three columns, each following one of the attack routes.   Once the stone wall, marking the sunken road and the confederate line was reached, the carnations were to be laided down.

Somehow, the Irish remembrance (not inappropriate or unwelcome) had taken over the remembrance of the total battle, and the Irish, as Union troops, had eclipsed the memory of the Confederate Troops also here.  Great-great Grandfather was there as a confederate solder… a somewhat unwilling one… but he was there, and this celebration (woops, commemoration) forgot that…

By then, I had abandoned the official commemoration... I had my own plans... And for now, my plans were to join my niece and her family in Lorton, where my nephew, and wife, and Max would join us...

I would have a second chance to remember and commemorate, without the crowds with patched recalling all the battle fields they had visited, and the people who like public celebrations what ever for…

Off, to DC

6:28 pm... SFO...  Virgin America flight 942... ( best damn airline in the world)

The area in front of the terminal is deserted... A single taxi competing for empty curb space...  There was no line at security...

I am here to catch a flight to LA, once there, to catch a connection to Dulles... Arriving about dawn... Tomorrow, I will visit the battlefield at Fredricksburg Virginia... A civil war battle field... There will be a re enactment in progeress... A celebration or commemoration of the battle which was fought there 150 years ago.

My great, great, grandfather was there, a member of the 55th Virginia... In A. P. Hills corps... But at this battle under command of Stonewall Jackson, A. P. Hill having just received news of his son's death.

It seemed like a good time to visit...

I also have family nearby, nieces, nephews, their spouses (in our family also nieces and nephews, and great nieces, and great nephews...

There also libraries nearby... I have books that I would like to pull at the Library of Congress, and records To  pull at National Archives.

I am busy at work... But things are tense, and the escape may help, and will at least offer a short escape...

Boarding was easy... Seat 23a... A window... Get settled, book out, headphones... I pad... Eventually the plane pushes back... Taxis... And then comes to life for the takeoff roll...

We climb, turn north... Fireworks are visible near fishman's warf... We turn again, this time westward, then southward... It is dark out... San Mateo is below... Then the bay peters out near Santa Clara, now as we fly south, the houses and their lights are getting scarcer as we escape the Bay Area....

The one hour flight south is too short for sleep... That will wait for the east bound leg...

Few lights a visible below... Those that are, are far to the east... Likely in the great valley... The San Joaquin... It is bumpy... But the "fasten seat belt" light is off...

I seem to be wallowing in Lenard Cohen on the entertainment system... Strangely calming...  They announce we are about 20 minutes out... We should prepare to land...  below there are only one or two lonely lights...   Soon, seat belt light on, descending... Over LA... On the ground... Waiting for my turn to get off... Find the next gate... And take a deep breath...  I have an hour before boarding... So I find a place for a beer and fish and chips. Gladstones... But the airport is not the same as Malibu...

I sit for a few minutes at the gate... for the next leg of the flight... the flight is far from full, but they make the peremptory announcement about carry on's anyway, and offer to gate check...  We board quickly... I fall asleep quickly... to awake as we are on approach at Dulles... Its dark... its raining... I get my rental, and go off into the night... which will soon be dawn, but there is no sign of light... off on my adventure.

Turkey Day

T Day… Rebooted…

Its Thanksgiving, a national holiday (so designated by ) frequently known as “T-Day” for both Thanksgiving, and Turkey, the traditional dish served at our holiday feast… 

Thanksgiving is a day rooted in tradition… National traditions, Family traditions, personal traditions… traditions concerning food… about watching football on TV… gatherings…

This year, our Thanksgiving is a bit unconventional… in place of turkey, we have a pork roast, butterflied, then rolled with a stuffing made of onions, celery, carrots, and mushrooms…  at least it’s a stuffed roast… 

The sides are more conventional… roasted butternut squash (a close approximation for sweet potatoes, with no mini marshmallows in sight), oven roasted brussel sprouts… we live in brussel spout country… we like them… Tina’s dad liked them… they are our green of choice, at least today… Red cabbage… cooked Danish style, per a family recipe from Tina’s family… There is bread dressing… dressing (aka bread stuffing cooked outside the bird) made of San Francisco sour-dough bread, celery, onions, oysters, with parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme… (apologies to Simon & Garfunkel),commonly known as stuffing, but in this case not stuffed in a bird, or a leg of lamb… (as Alton Brown says, “stuffing is evil”… It dries the meat… it makes for a bad turkey, if we were having turkey… which we are not…)

The now American Holiday has origins in an early colonial American harvest festival… (the harvest in New England occurs well before the late-November date of the holiday, but details are unimportant and sometimes unwelcome) dating to the Mayflower, and “Pilgrims” religious zealots fleeing England for the freedom of the new land, Plymouth Massachusetts arriving in 1620, where most, unprepared for the new land, and unfamiliar with how to grow corn, squash and such, with limited hunting skills, mostly starved at first… Half died the first year.  A good harvest in 1621 (or so) resulted in a “Thanksgiving” and the rest is history…

For us, some 392 years later… We held our personal Thanksgiving… There was shrimp cocktail over cream cheese earlier… a kind of late lunch… served with champagne… between then and dinner there was wine (white) and beer… with dinner there was more wine, now red… Then the birdless meal…

About 9:00 (in the PM) we piled into the car to drive over to the local Target… to see if anyone would show up at their Turkey Day early Black Friday… to our horror, the line extended around the store, to the side of the store, behind the store… the parking lot was gridlocked…

Why?

We retreated home… we were in need of nothing that couldn’t wait until another, less sacred day…

Christmas, the dreadded Christmas

Christmas has arrived... at least at Patterson House... or is arriving... in about 13 hours...

We are a house museum... a grand Victorian farm house.. and now, it is Christmas... When history is subjugated in favor of glitter and tinsel... and Christmas...

Christmas comes the first weekend of December at Ardenwood Farm, home of Patterson house... So, today, about 3:45, the last tour ended, and we started Christmas... hauling trees (artificial) and garland and ladders... We need ladders... ladders are important... ladders give access to 12' ceilings... where we hand garland and decorations...

If you haven't figured it out... I run Patterson House...

Volunteers decorate... I need to take care of my volunteers...

This means soup... bread... butter...Turkey vegetable soup made from the carcase of the turkey used to feed the volunteers last week... Last week as we worked towards Christmas it meant Turkey, dressing (3 kinds) and gravy... A celebration of the end of the season.

Tomorrow, we start to decorate... There are 19 rooms to be decorated... some by one, some by many...  most have decorated before, some haven't... some need help... (more this year... the elevator may not be working... things need to be carried upstairs)

I may run the place, but I am not really in control... The volunteers will do what ever they want... I can only steer... Sometimes with success, other times without...

Laughton Wainwright II said it best...

Suddenly it's Christmas, right after Halloweeen.
Forget about Thanksgiving;
It's just a buffet in between.
There's lights and tinsel in the windows;
They're stocking up the shelves;
Santa's slaving at the North Pole
In his sweatshop full of elves.

There's got to be a build-up
To the day that Christ was born:
The halls are decked with pumpkins
And the ears of Indian corn.
Dragging through the falling leaves
In a one-horse open sleigh,
Suddenly it's Christmas,
Seven weeks before the day.

CHORUS:
Suddenly it's Christmas,
The longest holiday.
When they say "Season's Greetings"
They mean just what they say:
It's a season, it's a marathon,
Retail eternity.
It's not over till it's over
And you throw away the tree.
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/l/loudon_wainwright_iii/suddenly_its_christmas.html ]
Outside it's positively balmy,
In the air nary a nip;
Suddenly it's Christmas,
Unbuttoned and unzipped.
Yes, they're working overtime,
Santa's little runts;
Christmas comes but once a year
And goes on for two months.

Christmas carols in December
And November, too;
It's no wonder we're depressed
When the whole thing is through.
Finally it's January;
Let's sing "Auld Lang Syne";
But here comes another heartache,
Shaped like a Valentine.

Suddenly it's Christmas,
The longest holiday.
The season is upon us;
A pox, it won't go away.
It's a season, it's a marathon,
Retail eternity.
It's not over till it's over
And you throw away the tree.

No, it's not over till it's over
And you throw away the tree;
It's still not over till it's over
And you throw away the tree.

Once we close... December 16th this year I don't want anything to do with Christmas... I don't care about trees, lights, cards and such... I do care about Xmas dinner... but not about the other stuff... but need to ...

While taking down and putting away Christmas at Patterson House...  It is a bit weird... maybe surreal...

Can I just go hide in a far away place?  Please?

Klinger, the Jeep and tales of a winch, and a bumper and stuff…

Klinger, the Jeep and tales of a winch, and a bumper and stuff…

About two months ago I bought a new car, a vehicle... a Jeep...

Specifically, a Jeep Wrangler, sport, unlimited... In English, a traditional Jeep, with 4 doors... and a winch...

Within a week, I visited 4 wheel parts, and bought a trailer hitch... The first sticker had found its place on the window... Equipment was loaded... A shovel, an axe (a Navy damage control axe from the recently decommissioned Kitty Hawk) a jump box, a compressor, a tire repair kit... Ropes, bungee cords... And a machete...

Almost immediately it was named, Klinger... Klinger (my Klinger) was built in Toledo Ohio... The fictional home of fictional Sargent Klinger of MASH... aka Jamie Farr... A friend suggested pearls... The lovely Tina found some pearl Marti Gras beads... She be Klinger....

This is likely a statement car... A middle age crisis car... Instead of a blond (wench) it came with a winch... (eventually) With some hundred feet or so of stainless steel cable... not quite blond... But, when received, the winch was not found... It was ordered... To arrive soon...

It (the winch,) arrived at the dealership a week or so later... Too late for installation before Klinger's first road trip...

That trip, across the Sierra, to Carson, then, across Nevada via Hwy 50 to Ely... While there, I explored a couple of BLM roads... Around the Ruth pit... In search of the Ward charcoal kilns... Dirt roads, but not quite "off road". Home was a fast run down Hwy 6 through Tonapah, over Montgomery Pass down into Owens Valley, then right at Benton Springs... Along the south side of Mono Lake, over Tioga Pass, via Yosemite, and home... A wonderful road trip… away from the highway, the Interstate, a few unpaved roads, but nothing that tested Klinger's off road skills...

Upon return, T and I flew to Vancouver Canada… off on a cruise…  While we were gone, Steph, aka the daughter, took Klinger in to the shop… to install the winch…  There were issues… the winch could not be mounted on the factory bumper… a new bumper was needed… at a significant cost… or maybe a winch plate, or not…

There was a second trip… this to Carson, to Virginia… dirt roads, mine roads… nothing challenging…

It now started to get complicated… It was no one’s fault… but it was complicated… In so many ways…

We, I, the dealer (sales person, service department, etc…) all thought that a winch was just not that complicated… bolt on the bumper, go… It had a Mopar part number… it is covered under the warranty… It was listed on the sales contract…  It was not… (on the jeep, or uncomplicated)

In some way, not yet fully understood, Jeep changed the (front) bumper on the 2012 Wrangler… and as a result, you cannot bolt a winch to it…  A different solution is needed…. I suggested a winch plate… which was thought to be compatible, but wasn’t, but maybe the 3^rd party manufacturer could make it compatible (at an increased cost) but eventually decided not to…

At this point, to make all more interesting, Abby, my sales person, left the dealership... (we are still friends on Face book…)

Now working with salespersons we haven’t met… and sales managers… potential costs are rising… Folks are in damage control mode… I have a sales contract that says my Jeep has a winch… a winch that I think should be installed on the front bumper, which instead is sitting on the floor of the parts department at my Jeeps service department…

Calls are made… calls are returned, or not… calls are made… details are uncertain… I chose a bumper from 4 wheel parts that can support a winch… and is less expensive than the one the dealer chose ($1,800 vs $399) they have a relationship with 4 wheel parts… they could have considered their parts but didn’t).  By the 5^th call I may have been angry, spoken loudly, and made demands…

Eventually, I delivered Klinger to the dealership… was handed the keys to a 2012 used Dodge, and left… The next day I called for an update… (this was the day of the Giants World Series Parade….Go Giants….) and was told that Klinger was done, winch installed... they had called (the home phone… not the cell that we had been using) I picked up Klinger… paid for a bumper, (at their cost, less than I would have paid) but not for installation… We both had lines in the sand… Nether came away happy… but both came away ok…

Saturday… I needed to pick up some artifacts, donated to the railroad museum… I drove to Ardenwood, Picked up the railroad’s trailer… unloaded the Halloween stuff occupying the deck… And headed east to the Sierras, to West Point, and the stuff, Craig wanted us to have…  Craig was a long time member… He was short… very short… like one of Snow White’s dwarfs… tolling in the mines… Craig was much more than that, a historian, a reader, a miner, with an explosive permit…  but the stereotype can provide an image… A short man with incredible  presence.

I met Martha, Craig’s sister at the mine… off Hwy 88 above Jackson, off Hwy 88, on Hwy 26 to West Point… a narrow road on a steep slope above the north fork of Mokolome River… Here for the first time, Klinger got to show off.. 

The mine is one the side of a steep slope… The “stuff” was spread among buildings along a narrow dirt road… His cabin way in…  I walk the route first, then drove in… the road was nearly too narrow for the trailer… I shifted into 4w low… crawled out to Craig’s cabin… once there, I unhitched the trailer, and found, that due to mud and slope I couldn’t maneuver the trailer…

 there was a small area to turn around just beyond the cabin… to small to turn jeep and trailer together… so I unhitched the trailer, and tried to move it by hand… normally easy enough, but this was dirt, bordering on mud, and sloped away from the way I needed to move the trailer… The trailer wanted to head down the slope… way down the slope… This could become a crisis… It wasn’t… I blocked the trailer wheels, turned the jeep around, and used the winch to drag the trailer around…  I almost looked like I knew what I was doing…

I loaded up… lot of stuff,  A Graham Foundry (Newark) SP caboose stove, a portable forge, hand tools, square bolts, including a ton of square lag screws… all good stuff…

Martha (Craig’s sister) and I walked about the property… Then home… downhill, 4 wheel, low, down to Hwy 88, then high range two wheel drive… home, drop the trailer at Ardenwood… In the dark… Then home… winch redeemed… useful…   The lovely T had thought the winch an expensive toy… I hoped never to use it (using it generally means you did something stupid) but, now, 4 days after installation I found it helpful (either that or I was stupid and got myself in trouble)