Friday, August 30, 2013

Scotland: Something Else Entirely




This ominous cloud man must know that the cab ride to Newark is going to cost me
$50 plus $28 in tolls.  This is the price I pay for a non-stop flight.


In the Newark airport I spend an hour nursing a glass of wine and staring at beef.
 (In my usual manner, I have allowed myself hours and hours at the airport, just in case.)
 Strange restaurant decor.  Glad I'm not vegetarian.


Finally, at 10:10PM, we're wheeling around over Manhattan.
Our pilot informs us that this is the first plane out of Newark that day to be on time
(because of earlier ominous cloud men, no doubt).


Last glimpse of Manhattan!

Dinner is served!  What a shock.  I expect the usual Delta peanuts.
But this is United.  I especially like the iceberg lettuce salad.

First glimpse of Scotland, an island in the mist.



Tiny bales of hay dot the fields.  Haying in Scotland must be a dicey business, as you
have to have long spans of dry weather for it to dry after cutting.
This I learned from my farming years, where I would watch angry cloud men
drift over my particular field of drying hay and rain down on it.
Nowhere else, not across the road on Arliss Hoff's hay, no, just on mine.

What kind of bridge is this?


Look, blue skies over Scotland!



What's the weapon that looks like a dress?
I am not very weapon-savvy, it appears, because I don't know what some of these are.
But they all look extremely offensive. 

Breakfast!  I've jumped ahead five hours, and enjoy my airplane roll and butter
at Costa Coffee, the airport chain, while I wait for Aaron to arrive.
We take a fun double-decker to our hotel in the Haymarket area.

None of these drivers seem to know what they're doing.

You're on the wrong side of the road, buddy!  Look out!

 
All the buildings are made of stone.


Aaron is fascinated by the architecture.


We are staying a place called Ashgrove, which is not the above place, that's across the street, the former Donaldson College,
which is empty and for sale along with its eighteen acres. 
It was a school for the deaf which has now moved to newer digs, and has been empty since 2003,
owned by a development company that it appears is trying to sell it in turn.  It's a landmarked building, otherwise it would probably be long gone.
But maybe something of a white elephant for an owner?
Fun fact, well, not so fun, but in 1916 much of its glass was destroyed by a German zeppelin hit.

At our abode, Ashgrove, Aaron enjoys the Scottish ambiance.

The back yard of the Ashgrove shows another activity reliant on sun and wind,
drying clothes on the line.  I later discover that the towels have a fresh, rugged feel
that is much appreciated.  American dryer-dried towels will now seem soft and wimpy to me.


The red button doesn't set off the apocalypse, it starts the shower, we finally learn.


After resting, we go in a quest to find the Edinburgh Castle.
We see this door, which seems to be a portal to another world, yet it's "shut" for the night,
or so the green sign says...


And this door also seems to lead to somewhere with a dark, dark history.
Also closed to us.  Just as well.


Here's the little guy telling us to wait.  Seems like he's gone yellow in the wrong places.  


More enigmatic signs, this one in the trash...


Variations on a theme...



In other word(s), YIELD!

Our first glimpses of the castle!
The cliff rises in front of us like something out of a dream.
We're walking down a street, make a left turn, and this appears!


This stadium is connected to the castle, Aaron says it's where they play quiddich.


We're too late to go on a tour, and have to make do with roaming the streets of Edinburgh.



What is this strange structure?  It looks like the Clingons** built it.

Here's another view of the structure, well, okay, the same view, with a couple of additions,
including the cool double decker bus (why don't they have these in NYC???) and the amazing neoclassical Scottish National Gallery, which we won't get time to visit, this time anyway.


It's raining so we are forced to duck into the basement of a nearby building that has a handy 
wall-o'-whisky.

The place is named Amber, and Aaron gets a whisky (no one calls it Scotch here, of course) 
and he gets an order of chocolate "flapjacks" which are
a kind of dense oat cake, not at all what we expected, which would be like a stack of pancakes
with chocolate stuck in there somehow.
  But it's good, nonetheless.
I'm in whisky-ville, yet I insist on a cool crisp Chenin Blanc.


And later, dinner, we share an order of "Guiness-and-steak pie."


We watch a little music by "Gus" playing the guitar...

...but end up being a bit distracted by trying to figure out the ins and outs of cricket.
Kind of like baseball, but something else entirely.


And tomorrow, the Isle of Mull.



**Oops, wrong spelling, should be Klingon, I've been informed.  Hope you didn't notice.





Tuesday, August 20, 2013

The Waters of August




 I'm heading west (or mid-west) over popcorn skies to spend some quality time on the shores of 
Gitche Gumee.  Or Kitchi Gami.  Or Kitchi Gummi,
an old haunt of the Ojibwe (Anishinaabe) Indians.


Lake Michigan is a span of cerulean blue,
whereas two small lakes in Minneapolis are less than limpid pods...
Too bad cities can't get their you-know-what together and clean up
their lakes.  Lawns are one of the major culprits:  green grass = green lakes. 



It's not just city lakes that are contaminated - even the most isolated Minnesota lakes are 
polluted with things like
 swine antibiotics, cocaine, personal care products, DEET, estrogen,
antidepressents, plastics, and much, much more - Wow!  What a nasty soup! - as reported in a recent article in the Minneapolis Star Tribune:


When they don't kill them outright, these contaminants are turning the fish into freaks.


Here's another view over Minneapolis, but it could be any city, USA.  
Big box heaven! 


Ahhh.  In the distance, the Shining Big Sea Water.
Frank and I are escaping to one of the cleanest lakes left in the world, although it, too, has issues.
We fly over the web of rivers and estuaries connected to Lake Superior, a superior lake in all ways.
In the distance (top of photo) is the barrier island (actually a peninsula) where we will be staying.


First glimpse of the big lake in the distance...
...first glimpse from our picture window!



Frank in the "back yard" of our Park Point rental house.


Duluth in the distance...




Clear water!  And cold!


I am compelled to go in the water to make the experience real, 
even though it's icy cold.  
Well, 57 degrees F.


Which is pretty cold.


Sherry and Brett wimp out with wet suits.


The weekend weather is awesome for Duluth, sunny and warm.
You never know about August here.  It can be rainy and in the 40's, 
even in the era of global warming.

Shannon and Michael enjoy the beach.


Jennifer lounges in the beach shelter that was kindly built for us
by mysterious folk.


Jennifer, Ali, Shannon and Michael, respectively.




Sunset...Sunrise...


Duluth laid out like a sparkling necklace on the cliffs and lake...




Shannon and Michael trek up the dune path.


Andrew builds his usual frabjous castle on the beach.


I build something similar in the kitchen.


Other foodstuffs we enjoy are this cake, made by Brett with real pumpkins and
decorated by Ali.


We're celebrating the future birth of the new boy baby, scheduled for November 7th!!!!
Or thereabouts.

Shirley gazes fondly at the happy couple - the 'Dorables.


Andrew gets a new hairdo.



We see strange things on the beach:






It seems that monoliths are all the rage,
so we put up one of our own.

Ali has has so much fun, she must rest.



Before they leave, Jennifer braves the icy waters!
She is a Superior girl!


While in Duluth, we go to Shirley's 70th High School Reunion lunch which is coincidentally happening this week at the posh Kitchi Gammi Club.

(internet photo)


This is the school Shirley went to, Duluth Central, which opened in 1893.
It now houses only administrative offices.



A pile of dog shit (at least we think it's dog shit) on our beach
bums us out, but we just move the log and we're good to go.

We go for a walk in the wooded part of Park Point, a protected preserve...


...where a magical tree-knome...


...protects us from the field of poison ivy.



 The time comes to leave our little bit of Paradise, 
but first we get a visit from old friends Clyde and JoAnn Narhi.
who live on Barker's Island where Shirley and Gordie used to live.


We bid a last goodbye to the shining big sea water...







...before visiting Forest Hill cemetery, where my brother Mark,
father Gordie and aunt Helen are buried...


...to check on the pruning job done by our wonderful new friend Brad
who is the grounds-man.


Last glimpse of the Aerial Bridge...


...and the vast taconite piles.  Taconite is the raw form of iron, 
which has long been a big export of the northern Minnesota area.


We then go to a reunion at my cousin Gail's country house, where Shirley, 
sadly, is one of the last of her generation.

 (photo by Greg Vokovan)

 ...but a new generation arises, here represented by the Kelly family.
Jennifer is my cousin Barry's daughter and her children are Beela and Shepard.
 Shepard has been (so far successfully) fighting cancer for most of his short life. 
They recently had a fundraiser to help support "CureSearch"  
which is working to fight children's cancer.

https://www.facebook.com/curesearch

The Wilkinson clan!  Here I am with (clockwise) Dan, Angie, Brett, Sherry,
Shirley and Angie and Dan's grandchild, Brooklyn.

 (photo by Greg Vokovan)

Cousins galore!
We do a "blood relatives" pic:
 Me, Dan, Sherry, Doris Bawcom, Chuck Bawcom, Bill Vokovan, Amy (Bogenholm) Nash, Barry Bawcom, Greg Vokovan, Gail Vokovan.

 (photo by Greg Vokovan)
Thanks to Gail for making this occasion possible!

 Dan and I go kayaking on the Apple River.






I follow his wake the whole way as he speeds ahead, and
finally find him in the reeds taking a texting break.







I also do my annual visit to Paul and Judy Helgeson at Winding Road Farm...


...where Paul looks over his amazing prairie planting.
 (I'm not going to indulge in the obvious annoying pun,
that he's out standing in his field.  That would be beneath me.)


The Winding Road garden is exquisite and abundant!


Judy picks flowers while I pick beans.


This place only grows more beautiful.



On our way to their Menomonie house, we pass by the turkey "farms"near Wheeler, Wisconsin,
where thousands of birds are cooped up, biding their time before the big
Thanksgiving day slaughter.





Two still lives:  one in the country (on the Winding Road porch); one in the city
(in their  kitchen window in Menomonie).


Back in New Richmond, 
we go out on the town to Brady's Bar to see the Sun Mountain Band
with the amazing Fiddler, Dick Solberg.


Solberg is a great friend of my cousin Barry Bawcom (right) - they were in Vietnam together.


The band is great, playing a mix of Beatles, Van Morrison, classic "Americana" with down-home fiddlin' and Solberg's own eclectic compositions - here's a little clip of "Remember Me":


Steppin' out in downtown New Richmond with Sherry, Dan and my cousin Gail Vokovan.
Looking fabulous, people!!!!



Angie and Dan entertain Angie's brother and girlfriend.

The cousins!


Back at Shirley's, Judy's flowers grace her coffee table.


Sadly, we must bid adieu to Shirley, leaving her at her Deerfield door.
She and I had a wonderful time together, watching HGTV, old movies,
playing cards and working out in the exercise room!
Note my brother Dan's sculpture on the wall to her right.
Here is another one at Sherry's house, nibbled on by the squirrels who collaborate
with Dan to make his sculptures even more awesome.


Another one is on S&B's front wall.


And yet another one is stuffed into my suitcase to come back to Brooklyn!


Sherry and Brett, moving on after the sad death of Moe, have a new kitty named Pi.
I make a video of his adventure with the blue balloon...


...which he watches avidly later on my computer screen.


And once again, I'm on the road.  Or "in the sky."


 Here is the great Lake Michigan, revisited.
If you look closely at the bottom of the blue expanse,
you'll see two "lakers" looking awfully tiny,
yet they are possibly as big as this one, the William J. McCarthy, 1000 feet long, 
seen back in Duluth.



Over Lake Erie, I notice a disturbing greenish swirl in the water...



...so I do some research and find this article from 2011.
The red rectangle notes approximately where I took my picture.


Microcystis is the most prevalent form of toxic algae, often referred to as harmful algal blooms. It has the same toxin, microcystin, that killed 75 people inside a Brazilian hospital in the mid 1990s, prompting a team of experts from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention to investigate.

Sigh.

Back over NYC, the Hudson below the Verrazano Bridge is looking a bit murky.
Better than it used to be, but not exactly drinkable.


I must be back in New York, because this young man at LaGuardia look like the coolest person ever.


Big city of stone and steel overlooking a smaller city of headstones, 
a visual metaphor if there ever was one.


And while it's not over water, my Brooklyn window still shows me a pretty awesome sunrise.