Tag: #drinking

The Tribe – Together Again

The Tribe – Together Again

It’s good to keep memories alive, and laugh and cry for those we have lost. It’s also good to remember that life is for the living – to try and savor each and every day, and the time we have with those we love.

Before New Year’s Eve 2021, the last time we were all together was almost three years ago at the 2019 Anderson Valley (California) Pinot Festival. The difference was there were six of us then, and only four of us now. Don passed away in October of 2019, and Kim in August of 2021. I like to think Kim and Don were with us in spirit this year. We certainly ate and drank enough to cover them. 😉

Don and Kim at the 2019 Anderson Valley Pinot Festival

Cathy’s sister Bonnie married Don in ‘96 and the four of us were great friends from then on. They introduced us to their friends Kim and John, perhaps ten or fifteen years ago. Over the ensuing years, we saw Kim and John just about every time we visited California. Inevitably they would spend a couple of days at Bonnie and Don’s when we were in town. Often it was for either the annual Anderson Valley Pinot Festival, or perhaps the winter white wine Alsace Festival, but there were also a couple of Christmases or New Year’s Eves in the mix.

In 2018, the Californians all came to Virginia for a vacation over New Years and we again enjoyed fun times. It’s always wonderful when you find people you get along with in multiple locations and over time – you realize you are a part of the same tribe. At the time, we talked about the six of us linking up at Kim and John’s vacation place in Hawaii, “sometime in the future.”

New Year’s Eve Menu at Rohan Farm in 2018

The following May, we were all together again at Bonnie and Don’s for the 2019 Pinot Festival. Kim was dealing with cancer, but it didn’t slow her, or us, down. At the time, we of course didn’t realize it was the last time all six of us would be together.

Pinot Festival 2019! From the left – Don, John, Kim, Cathy and Bonnie.

Don passed away five months after that Pinot Festival and Kim a little over two years later in August of ‘21. Covid provided an overlay for all of that time. We had reservations for Pinot Festival in May of ‘20 and ‘21, but it was cancelled both years due to Covid.

Time Passed.

We came to California this year for Bonnie’s birthday and to celebrate New Year’s Eve, and were delighted to find out that John would join us for both of those events.

We arrived first, and John drove up from Santa Cruz a couple of days later. The time passed in a whirlwind of fun, food, wine, poker games, walks and talks. We of course remembered and talked about Don and Kim throughout our time together. For John, it had only been 4 months or so since Kim passed away – they were married for 53 years. Bonnie and Don had 23 years together. As she noted, it’s not easy, and everything takes time. On New Year’s Eve, we toasted Kim with one of her favorite wines. On New Year’s Day, we went to Point Arena for a hike and toasted Don with beers and some tasty pizza.

Good Times Celebrating Bonnie’s Birthday on Dec 29th in Healdsburg, and later on New Year’s Day at Point Arena

We also spoke about many other things and didn’t forget to enjoy life and the time we were having together. John invited Cathy and I to Hawaii again. There was laughter and joking, smiles and stories. We kept old memories alive, while also making new ones. It was good to be with the tribe again. We consumed our fair share of food and al’ahol over the five days we spent together.

John eventually left for the drive back to Santa Cruz. There were hugs all around and promises to see each other sooner rather than later. John made sure to invite us to Hawaii again and we readily agreed to give serious consideration for a trip there.

It’s good to keep memories alive, and laugh and cry for those we have lost. It’s also good to remember that life is for the living – to try and savor each and every day, and the time we have with those we love. As the days fly by, I want to race with the wind and also stop and smell the roses. Can you do both? I want to keep trying.

—-

Ecclesiastes 5:18-20 – Even so, I have noticed one thing that is good. It is good for people to eat well, drink a good glass of wine and enjoy their work – whatever they do under the sun – for however long God lets them live. To enjoy your work and accept your life, that is indeed a gift from God. People who do this rarely look with sorrow on the past, for God has given them reason for joy.

Life and the Ritual of Risotto

Life and the Ritual of Risotto

I made Risotto last week. Due to some changes in diet, it was the first time in over a year and it was wonderful. Risotto isn’t hard to make, and it doesn’t take long, but it does require patience and attention. You can’t rush risotto, and to me, that is why making it is both relaxing and a bit zen like.

I’ve been making risotto for years, and have several different recipes. It was a staple part of our dinner rotation. And then about a year ago, I had a couple of blood tests that caused some concern. After engaging in bilateral discussions with my doctor* (… 😉 … ) , I made significant diet changes, and drastically reduced dairy and carbs. Some things were easy, like changing from regular milk to oat milk. Unfortunately, cheese was practically it’s own food group for me, so that required a fair amount of mental adjustment. Pasta, potatoes, white rice, and bread? All eliminated, or severely reduced. I went cold turkey, and just did it. The good news was that after three months, the test results were back to normal, and six months later, they remained normal. As a side benefit, I lost about fifteen pounds.

Over the past six months, we’ve reintroduced small amounts of dairy and carbs into our diet. They’ve become “special” as opposed to every day, and it’s worked out fine. It turns out, sometimes, you can teach an old dog new tricks.

Last Thursday I had a series of follow-up fasting blood tests. I wouldn’t receive the results for a day or two, but decided to celebrate early and chose to make risotto for dinner that night. On the way home, I picked up some cream for the sauce, along with fresh bread from a local bakery. I mean what the hell, in for a penny, in for a pound. While I have several risotto recipes, there was no doubt in my mind about which one I would make – Ben’s Cognac Risotto – a favorite of ours, with mushrooms, shallots, cream, butter, and plenty of Parmesan cheese.

From start to finish, Ben’s Cognac Risotto takes about forty five minutes to an hour to make. As with most risottos, it’s not complicated, however, once you start cooking, you can’t walk away from the stove. You need to be present, both mentally and physically.

That evening , I started heating up the required chicken broth, chopped up the needed shallots and mushrooms, separately measured out the cognac and cream for the sauce, and then grated the Parmesan cheese necessary for the finish.

Shallots and Mushrooms – the Key to Ben’s Cognac Risotto…

The next step is an optional one, but I find it adds to the relaxing nature of making risotto. I walked over to the bar and made myself a martini. In what may be a strange coincidence, I’ve learned that the time it takes to drink a martini, is almost exactly the same length of time it takes to make risotto. Not a martini fan? A Manhattan or Negroni will do, or even a glass of the red wine you opened to serve later with the risotto. Trust me on this. It works.

I made the mushroom sauce first and the kitchen filled with that heavenly smell only sautéed mushrooms can bring. After 5 minutes or so, I added the cognac and reduced it, and then added the cream and slowly reduced it some more. I set the sauce aside, and then started to work on the risotto itself. I also let Cathy know dinner would be ready in about twenty minutes, so she could finish setting the table, and pour some wine in our glasses.

Mushrooms, Cognac and Cream – What’s not to like?

After sautéing the shallots, I added the rice to the pan and stirred a bit. I started adding the broth, about a half a cup at a time, to the rice. Next? The ritual – Keep stirring the rice every few seconds; take a sip of martini; let the rice sit a little, then stir, and add the next portion of broth. And, repeat – Stir the broth into the rice, take a sip of martini, let the rice sit a bit, then stir, and add more broth. And repeat. And repeat. And repeat. A bit of zen zone settles in, or at least it does for me. It’s just me, the spoon, and the rice.

In the Zen Zone – Just me, the Spoon, and the Rice…

As I neared the last of the broth, I tasted the rice, checking for chewiness. You still have the mushroom sauce to add, so a little chewiness is OK. I know that if there’s a bit of broth left, it’s not a big deal.

Finally, It was time. I stirred the mushroom sauce into the rice, and let it thicken a bit. I then added the Parmesan and stirred some more. Cathy brought our bowls over, and I put some risotto into each of them, with another dusting of Parmesan on top of each. I took the last sip of my martini, grabbed the bread warming in the oven and crossed to the table. We clinked glasses and then settled into the wonderfulness that is Ben’s Cognac Risotto.

The Wonderfulness that is Ben’s Cognac Risotto…

Cathy asked me if we were maybe celebrating too early, since I hadn’t yet received my test results. I answered I felt good about the tests and wasn’t worried. Besides, it’s a good thing to occasionally celebrate life.

Late the next afternoon, although I hadn’t received a call from the doctor, I logged into my account at her office. The four test results were there – I quickly opened and scanned each of them. Everything was fine, and in fact a couple of tests showed further improvement from last June. The low dairy, low carb diet was working. It also appeared the occasional piece of cheese, serving of roasted potatoes, or bowl of risotto wasn’t having an overly adverse effect on me. I could live with this.

Live is the key word. I’ve reached the age where something is always breaking down, or going a bit haywire in my body. There is always some new thing I need to be aware of for my future health. While healthy over all, Cath and I both have issues that crop up. And of course we have friends who are dealing with greater issues – cancer, loss of eyesight, early onset dementia… getting older isn’t for the faint of heart. But you also have to live, and enjoy life in all of the ways you can. For me, the ritual of risotto is one of those ways, and I’m not ready to give up on it yet. We may not have it as often, but trust me, it’s still going to appear on the menu.

Otherwise, what’s the point?

Addendum:

– * As a side note, I love my doctor, Doctor Emman Hussny, and have been with her for a long time – around twenty years. When she left one practice to start her own, I moved with her. She has a great bedside manner, and encourages leading a healthier lifestyle, without being draconian about it. During checkups, we certainly have discussions about my health, but also discuss other topics of the day. I feel like she genuinely cares about me, and I’m not just another patient flowing through her office.

– Here’s the recipe for Ben’s Cognac Risotto – enjoy! If you want to tone it down a bit, you can substitute milk, or even 2% milk for the cream.

A Delivery on the Khwai River

A Delivery on the Khwai River

We were in a small safari boat on the Khwai River in Botswana. We’d just finished some up-close sightings of hippos and elephants when a boat came speeding straight toward us. What was up? Was something important happening at camp? Was there a rare animal sighting on a different part of the river? We were about to find out.

We had arrived at our camp, Xakanaxa, using a six-seater plane the day before. Xakanaxa is located in the Moremei Game Reserve in the Okavango Delta, a World Heritage Site. The waters in the Delta created a lushness that was different from the other safari lodges we had visited. At one point, between the lushness, and the abundance of animals in close proximity with each other, I thought to myself “This is what the Garden of Eden looked like.”

The Garden of Eden

Later on that first day, we had an unbelievable leopard sighting. Harry, our guide had seen the leopard the day before at the site of a kill, so he knew roughly where it would be. Still, this was amazing. After tracking the animal, he located it dozing near a tree. You or I would have gone right by and never known it was there. We were only about five yards away, and watched the leopard for about fifteen minutes as it dozed, woke briefly, and then dozed some more.

A Leopard, Up Close and Personal

On the afternoon of our second day, we chose to take a boat safari instead of a driving safari in the land cruiser. You have a different vantage from the boat, and sometimes, when lucky, enjoy incredible views. That was the case that afternoon, as we saw two swimming elephants (only the second time we’d actually seen elephants swim), hippos, crocodiles on the bank and in the river, and one elephant just a few yards from us in the water, munching on grass.

Elephant having a Bite to Eat in the Khwai River

A bit later, as we were motoring back in the direction of camp, we were held up when a hippo submerged ahead of us in the river. The river “path” was narrow enough at that point, that Harry didn’t want to proceed without knowing exactly where the hippo was – if it rose under the boat the potential to be upended was real, something that’s never a good idea in a river filled with crocodiles.

While waiting for the hippo, we had some luck and saw a rare bird – the “Little Bittern”. It was first seen by our friend Sharon (“What’s that?”), and identified by our guide. It turned out that sightings of the Little Bittern are pretty unique. Returning to camp later that evening, we learned some birders from South Africa had looked for it over the previous three days, but never managed to see it. Sharon later joked, “Yep, we were lucky to see the elusive, and exclusive, Little Bittern. And who saw it first?” 😉

“The Elusive, and Exclusive, Little Bittern”

It was after the Little Bittern sighting when we saw the fast approaching boat. Although Harry didn’t look concerned, the four of us had unspoken questions. What the hell was going on? Why would someone be coming down the channel that rapidly? Was there a problem somewhere? Had someone else’s boat been upended by a hippo? Were they going to warn of us about an issue up river? Was there some exciting sighting further up the river? We then recognized Mox, the lodge manager, and Harry said “Mox has a delivery for me.”, which raised more unspoken questions – What was so important that a delivery was needed in the middle of the Khwai River during our safari? Were we low on gas? Was oil leaking? Was there an unknown engine problem? Mox gave a wave, smiled and slowed down as he approached our boat.

Mox, Approaching our Safari Boat

Mox pulled up next to us and then all became apparent – he handed a bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey to Harry! Harry and Mox both started to laugh, and then let us in on the rest of the story. When we left Xakanaxa that afternoon, Harry packed Gin, Tonic Waters and limes for our sundowners, but forgot to grab the Bottle of Jameson. Our friend Bill had switched between G&Ts and Jameson over the course of our trip, and Harry wanted to be prepared for either choice, so he radioed back to camp to have the Jameson delivered to our boat. At that, we all broke out laughing. This was service above and beyond the call of duty. With a wave and a smile, Mox departed and went back to camp.

Mox and Harry Making the Critical Handoff

A half hour later or so, Harry piloted us to one side of the Khwai and prepared our drinks. On safaris, Gin and Tonic was virtually always my drink of choice for sundowners, but I knew that evening I was going to have a Jameson. Harry made G&Ts for the ladies and two Jamesons for Bill and I. We all toasted each other “Pula!”** and enjoyed our drinks. I have to say, I always appreciate Jameson, but it was extra tasty that day on the Khwai. As we sipped our drinks, we joked with each other the whole thing would have made a good Jameson commercial.

Pula!

We sat there, enjoyed our drinks and watched the sun set across the river. It was another perfect ending to a great day. I looked around and then said to Harry, “Do we have time for a second drink?” He smiled and answered “I was told to bring the bottle back empty.”

The Perfect Ending to a Great Day

Addendum:

⁃ **Pula actually has four different meanings: rain, a blessing, “Cheers!” If toasting someone over a drink, and lastly, it is what they call their currency. It’s a pretty versatile and important word in Botswana.

⁃ This is the seventh in a series of blogs about our 2021 trip to Africa. The previous blogs are listed here, in the reverse order of their publishing.

⁃ This is the second time we have used Karen Dewhurst, of Sikeleli Travel & Expeditions as our travel consultant. After working with her in 2018, there was no doubt we would use her and Sikeleli again. All accommodations were amazing, the food and wine excellent, the logistics and travel arrangements perfect and the animal viewing exceeded all expectations. If you are coming to this part of the world, I highly recommend her and them. You can reach Karen at: karen@sikelelitravel.com | (+27) 81 067 1094 (South Africa). Their overall website is at: https://sikelelitravel.com/ .

November, 1942 – Dad and the Invasion of North Africa

November, 1942 – Dad and the Invasion of North Africa

They were kids really. These men getting ready to invade North Africa, were kids. On November 8th, 1942, the invasion of North Africa began. Dad had turned 19 just two weeks before. Under the Command of Major General George S. Patton, Sergeant Willie I. Hall and his squad were among the first troops on the beach. It was the first US offensive ground engagement against the enemy during World War II.

Dad joined the army in September of 1940 at the age of 16. Pearl Harbor happened a little over a year later, and the training became serious. Along the way, he was promoted, and then promoted again to Sergeant and made a Squad Leader in B Company, 1st Battalion, 60th Regimental Combat Team.

Dad, Probably in 1941

He said a final goodbye to family and friends in Ottawa, Illinois during a leave in August of ‘42. In early October, his unit received their last weekend passes from Fort Bragg, and tore up the town of Charlotte, North Carolina. Some of the troops were late returning, but no one paid any attention. Things were about to get real.

A few days after that weekend, on October 14th, their unit loaded in trucks and moved to the coast and their embarkation point, Norfolk, Virginia. There, they boarded the ship, the USS George Clymer, and departed US waters on October 22d, Dad’s 19th birthday.

Operation Torch had three distinct landing areas in French Morocco and Algeria and they would be fighting against troops of Vichy France. The 60th was a part of the “Western Task Force” under Patton. With combined units from the 9th and the 2nd Armored Division, the Western Task Force was at about Division strength, and unlike the other two Task Forces, consisted solely of American Troops.

Operation Torch – Dad would Land at Port Lyautey, as a part of the Western Task Force under Patton

On November 8th, during the early morning hours, Operation Torch, and the invasion of North Africa, began. At about 4:30AM, the men of the 60th started climbing over the side of the ship, working their way down the landing nets and into the waiting Landing Craft (LCVs). At about 5:40AM, Dad and the 60th came ashore at Port Lyautey, Morocco, 80 miles northeast of Casablanca. Their objective was the Airfield beyond the city, and the Casbah (a fortress on higher ground). Even as they were landing, French shore batteries opened fire on the warships and French aircraft strafed the beach. The 60th suffered it’s first casualties.

The 60th Landing at Port Lyautey on November 8th, 1942

What followed was almost three days of intense fighting. It was the first combat for the vast majority of those involved on the American side. Reading the after-action reports and historical perspectives of the battle, the word “chaos” is used frequently to describe those days – the ships were 90 minutes late arriving at the drop off points for the 60th; a radio broadcast was made at the time the attack was suppose to take place, asking the French to lay down their arms. Because of the delay in deploying the troops, all the broadcast did was warn the French of the impending attack; the 60th was dropped off in the wrong spot and landed 1 1/2 miles south of their assigned landing zone; the seas turned rough and landing craft foundered or capsized; and, tanks weren’t on the ground until the very end of the first day, so the US Infantry had little to counter the French tanks on the initial day of combat.

Brigadier General Lucian Truscott, the Commander of the Northern part of the Task Force under Patton (including the 60th) that landed at Port Lyautey had this to say: “As far as I could see along the beach there was chaos. Landing craft were beaching in the pounding surf, broaching to the waves, and spilling men and equipment into the water. Men wandered about aimlessly, hopelessly lost, calling to each other and for their units, swearing at each other and at nothing.” Truscott later commanded the 3ID, and after that, VI Corps, and then the 5th Army. He retired as a four star general.

Years ago, I talked to Dad about the invasion. He didn’t talk about any of the “chaos”, although I’d guess if you are a grunt in the middle of an invasion, it all looks either chaotic, or crystal clear; maybe both at the same time. What he remembered was his Company knew they had a job to do. It didn’t occur to him they could or would fail. It simply wasn’t an option. He did talk about how fiercely the French fought the first day, but on the second day, they started taking prisoners, lots of prisoners, and that’s when he knew the battle had flipped. Of course this being dad, he also talked about liberating some wine in a cafe where they captured a number of prisoners…. ;-). I’d always laughed when I heard dad tell this last part, but in fact, it’s documented in historical accounts of the battle. B Company DID capture a cafe with a number of French soldiers inside.

On the third day, they took the Casbah (the fortress on the high ground overlooking the city), then Port Lyautey itself, and the nearby airfield. The fighting was over for now. I never had the sense from dad he experienced any of the butchery that would be a part of the fighting a couple of months later against the Germans in Tunisia and Algieria.

The remains of 84 U.S. soldiers who lost their lives from the 60th during this operation were laid to rest in a newly established military cemetery near the Casbah. 275 Americans were listed as wounded or missing.

The US Cemetery Near the Casbah

Years after the war, in the 70s and 80s, whenever in Ottawa on leave from my own time in the Army, Cathy and I went out to dinner with mom and dad. If dad was in a good mood (and he was ALWAYS in a good mood), he’d be talking to one of the women in our group, or another woman we happened to meet at The Steak House or some other local restaurant. Bringing out his very best sexy French Charles Boyer voice (hell, dad sounded more like Charles Boyer than Charles Boyer sounded like Charles Boyer) he’d quote Boyer talking with Hedy Lamarr in the great 1938 movie “Algiers”** and say “Come with me to zee Casbahhh…”, inevitably getting laughs and giggles. The thing was, dad had already been to the Casbah in 1942 with the 60th. There was no Heddy Lamarr, but there were a helluva lot of Frenchmen trying to kill him. Maybe he was just quoting from the movie for laughs, but later in life, I wondered if it was his own private joke with himself, remembering 19 year old Willie I Hall kicking ass in French Morocco in the Fall of ‘42.

Dad at the WWII Memorial in 2008

Addendum:

• ** The movie “Algiers” came out in 1938 and featured Charles Boyer and Hedy Lamarr. It was an instant hit and many considered it a forerunner to the movie “Casablanca” which came out in 1942. Boyer actually received an Oscar nomination in his role as Pepe Le Moko, a French jewel thief hiding in the Casbah. He falls in love with the mysterious Heddy Lamarr, and is torn between returning to Paris with her, or staying in the Casbah. I recently learned the famous line “Come with me to the Casbah…” was in the trailer for the film, but actually cut from the movie itself. Boyer’s role as Pepe Le Moko in Algiers was already famous, when animator Chuck Jones based the character of Pepe’ Le Pew the romantic skunk, on Boyer.

Boyer and Lamarr – “Come with me to zeee Casbahhh…“

• You can read a fascinating blow-by-blow description of the battle for Port Lyautey at: https://warfarehistorynetwork.com/2019/01/12/a-hit-or-miss-affair/ – many of the facts I’ve presented in this blog come from that article, and from “Eight Stars to Victory”, a history of the Ninth US Infantry Division published in 1948. Photos of the map, the cemetery and the beach landing come from both sources as well.

Here are two blogs I previously wrote about dad’s last visit home in ‘42 and dad’s last weekend pass before the invasion.

• In Aug 1942, Dad had A last visit home before the invasion. This tells some of that story. https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2015/11/10/veterans-day-a-blue-star-a-flag-and-a-letter/

• In late September or early Oct 1942, dad had his last Weekend Pass before shipping out. This blog recounts some of that last wild weekend. https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2017/12/04/the-%EF%BB%BFlast-big-weekend-before-the-invasion/

An Evening on the Zambezi River

An Evening on the Zambezi River

Watching an Elephant swim across the Zambezi river from Zimbabwe to Zambia was a first for us. For all the world, it looked as if he was doing the breast stroke, with his trunk and head rhythmically coming up for air. It was an amazing thing to watch.

We’d arrived in Victoria Falls the night before, making the drive back from The Hide. We were only in town for two nights, so it was an active day. We started with a visit to the Falls in the morning and they didn’t disappoint. It was our second time seeing them, and the first time for our Friends Bill and Sharon. The Falls had more mist this time and it was quite evident why they are called “The Smoke that Thunders”. There were times the mist obscured the falls themselves and your only connection was the deafening sound of them crashing to the river below.

The Mist Rising Over One Part of the Falls

We ate lunch at The Lookout Cafe with it’s wonderful view of the Zambezi River and the Victoria Falls Bridge crossing from Zim to Zambia. Built in 1905, the train bridge is still used today. After lunch we made a quick stop at “the Big Tree”, a Baobab tree estimated by some to be nearly 2,000 years old, did a bit of shopping, and then went to our lodge to clean up for our Sunset Cruise on the Zambezi.

We arrived at our boat, The Victoria, around 4:15PM and were greeted by the boat’s bartender Trymore, with their version of a Pimm’s Cup. The boat pushed away and for the next two and a half hours, we cruised the Zambezi. Due to covid, the four of us were the only guests and we were treated quite well. The boat had a three person crew -Trymore, PK the chef, and our Captain, Misheck.

Captain and Crew of The Victoria

We knew the cruise included appetizers, but were surprised to discover we would have four courses. The next two hours were a surreal combination of drink, food, wildlife and scenery. Even now, I have trouble wrapping my mind around our time on The Victoria.

As we motored along, we switched to Gin and Tonics, or Jameson, depending on your vice, and the first course of Biltong, Beerstick and rotti was brought out. We were heading down river, and would ultimately stop about a kilometer above the falls. It was a beautiful afternoon and we were passing some ellies and a few hippos in the water. Suddenly a huge hippo actually breached the water and all thoughts of food disappeared. Our friend Bill, an excellent photographer was in the right place at the right time and grabbed a stunning shot. We all looked at each other and laughed a bit – THIS was fun, amazing and crazy all at the same time.

Biltong and a Leaping Hippo – What’s not to Like?

As the second course of sushi arrived, we were nearing the Falls. At about 800 meters away, we stopped for a bit. You could see the “Smoke” caused by the mist of the Falls themselves. As the Captain cut the engine, the thunder and rumble of the Falls was unmistakable. It was an incredibly peaceful scene, except for the roar emanating from the horizon.

Sushi … and “The Smoke That Thunders” Viewed from Upriver

The boat turned around, and a bit further on and we saw something in the water, but couldn’t quite make it out. It was an elephant swimming across the river from Zimbabwe to Zambia! For all the world, it looked as if he was doing the breast stroke, with his trunk and head rhythmically coming up for air. As the elephant climbed out of the river and into Zambia, our third course of veggie and chicken “satay” kebabs arrived. By now we’d switched to wine and were still jabbering with each other about the swimming elephant. Although the kabobs were excellent, I have to tell you, a swimming elephant grabs your attention just a bit more… ;-).

(Click on Arrow for Swimming Elephant Video)

Both the river and time drifted along. It had been overcast, so we didn’t hold much hope out for a great sunset. Suddenly there was a shift of clouds in the west and the sun appeared above the horizon. We watched for several minutes, mesmerized by the colors of the sun playing across the sky and water. It was one of those moments where time froze in place. As we finally returned to our seats, the fourth and final course, “Mini beef Wellingtons” arrived, along with some red wine.

Sunset, accompanied by our Final Course

We were quieter now, basking in the glow of the evening twilight. We passed a few other boats, and more wildlife. Eventually, our dock appeared in the distance and the evening was over. Was it really only two and a half hours ago we’d started out? It felt like a lifetime had passed.

The Zambezi as Twilight Settled in

Addendum:

⁃ Thanks to Bill Reichhardt for the picture of the leaping hippo, and my wife, Cathy for the amazing sunset shot. Special thanks to Sharon Murray for providing the fascinating video of the swimming elephant.

⁃ This is the fifth in a series of blogs about our 2021 trip to Africa. The other blogs are listed here, in the reverse order of their publishing.

⁃ Our visit to The Hide safari camp, with lions dominating our sightings: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2021/10/16/the-hide-never-fails-to-deliver/

⁃ Anticipation of the trip, just days before we departed: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2021/09/21/our-bags-are-packed/

⁃ Covid testing requirements for the trip were quite extensive, even though it was much safer in Africa than Florida or Texas here in America: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2021/09/01/africa-and-covid-testing/

⁃ Africa in our blood. Why we decided to return to Africa, after having “the trip of a lifetime” in 2018: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2021/06/02/africa-in-our-blood/

⁃ This is the second time we have used Karen Dewhurst, of Sikeleli Travel & Expeditions as our travel consultant. After working with her in 2018, there was no doubt we would use her and Sikeleli again. All accommodations were amazing, the food and wine excellent, the logistics and travel arrangements perfect and the animal viewing exceeded all expectations. If you are coming to this part of the world, I highly recommend her and them. You can reach Karen at: karen@sikelelitravel.com | (+27) 81 067 1094 (South Africa). Their overall website is at: https://sikelelitravel.com/ .

Wabi Sabi

Wabi Sabi

I was recently at Linden Vineyards for a wine tasting. It was a beautiful day. While there, I recalled a nice little wine they made in 2017 called Wabi Sabi. Jim Law, the owner and winemaker, said this about the wine when it was released in 2020 – “Wabi Sabi refers to a Japanese aesthetic that reveres the “imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete … It is an unintentional wine that resulted in a spontaneous decision ” I was so taken with Jim’s description of Wabi Sabi, I started looking into the concept.

Wine Tasting at Linden on a Beautiful Day

After a year of researching online, and reading one book, I’m no expert. But I learned some things I’m trying to blend into my outlook, and my life. (yes, you can sometimes teach an old dog new tricks.)

The concept of Wabi Sabi is hundreds of years old and almost the opposite of order and perfection. As an engineer, and former military guy, this is 180 degrees from much of my professional career. It has taken some mental adjustments and rethinking. With Wabi Sabi, beauty is “spontaneous, fleeting, and singular”.

Stop and say that again, out loud to yourself. Spontaneous. Fleeting. Singular. Think of the changing colors of a maple tree’s leaves in autumn, before they finally fall to the ground.

It’s a very different view of beauty than we have here in the US and the western world in general, and focuses more on the simple and imperfect. Here, we often seem to think of beauty in terms of a state of perfection that is unattainable for most of us. Something that is often out of our reach.

Wabi Sabi stresses a simpler way of looking at and appreciating things in our lives. It also pushes two views at the same time – against the accumulation of objects to no set purpose, and recognizing the good things you already have in your life.

In the book, WABI SABI SIMPLE,* Richard Powell states it even more plainly – “Wabi Sabi nurtures all that is authentic by acknowledging three realities: nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect.“

It is the crack in an old pitcher from your grandmother or an old friend, that makes it unique and dear, and maybe more interesting with a story behind it. You know you cannot replace it, and you treasure it. Someday, you also know it might break.

A Gift to Cathy from Mrs Pray** – Some Simple Wabi Sabi

Perhaps it is seen in the gnarly heirloom tomato with a blemish that you have grown in your garden, as opposed to the perfectly shaped tomato at the supermarket. Each of those home grown tomatoes is unique in it’s shape, pretty to look at, and will certainly wither on the vine if you do not pick and eat it. And, think of how much better a home grown tomato tastes than one that comes from the store.

An Heirloom Tomato from the Garden

Think of the handcrafted items you make or buy, or receive as a gift, as opposed to those mass produced items we all pick up at nearby big box stores.

A Handmade Wooden Bowl we Received as a gift from our Friend, Kirby.

Again, I’m not an expert. Having said that, I am trying to relook at my life and how I view things. I think a bit of Wabi Sabi could help.

As to the Wabi Sabi wine at Linden, Jim also said this “Wabi Sabi reflects our philosophy behind the wine. It is an unintentional wine that resulted in a spontaneous decision. This is unusual for traditional, conservative, methodical Linden Vineyards. Once all blending decisions were made at the winery, there were several lots of wine that had no home. These misfit barrels were blended and bottled without intention or name.”

Linden’s Wabi Sabi … A Wonderful Little Wine.

Jim may have blended those barrels without intention, but the result was a wonderful little wine. It wasn’t perfect, but tasted awfully nice on a summer day. I have only one bottle left, and Linden has no more. Soon, my last bottle will be gone as well. Wabi Sabi indeed.

Addendum:

⁃ * The book I read on Wabi Sabi is titled “WABI SABI SIMPLE” by Richard R Powell. It’s a slim volume, and has some interesting thoughts for life and for work. One comment made was “maintain a conscious perspective that no job is perfect, no job is forever, and no job finishes completely.” Food for thought.

⁃ ** In the spring of 1973, Cathy and I were both in High School and had been dating for about a year. We took part in a High School Volunteer program to help out older folks around town. We worked together and went to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Pray, who we had never met before. We spent the day helping to clean up their yard, and clean and fix some things in their home. At the end of the day, Mrs Pray served us cake and something to drink. She tried to pay us, which of course we refused. She then disappeared for a moment and came back with the pitcher in the photograph above and gave it to Cathy. It was from her Grandmother, who was born in 1856 and started using the pitcher in 1875. I think it’s one of the most beautiful and generous gifts we ever received.

– In January of 2020, I wrote a blog called “Perfectly Imperfect”. Looking back at the blog now, I was already on a journey towards Wabi Sabi, and didn’t realize it. It’s always interesting to me when I find events in my life that overlap, and I’m not even aware of it at the time. Read this blog, and tell me if it doesn’t sound like Wabi Sabi by another name: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2020/01/01/perfectly-imperfect/

⁃ For what it’s worth, Linden’s Wabi Sabi wine was a combination of Vidal Blanc, Sémillon and Viognier, not your typical blend. I love Linden Vineyards here in Virginia. They make excellent wines, by any standard. Want to know more about them? Here’s a link to a 2021 article about Jim Law and Linden – https://vinepair.com/articles/linden-vineyards-virginia/ and here’s a link to Linden’s website: https://www.lindenvineyards.com/

Zman is Gone

Zman is Gone

It’s always tough when a West Point brother dies, but this one hit me harder than most. Zman is gone. I’ve lost other classmates over the years, but Zman was the first from my company, and I felt a great sadness on hearing the news. I suppose it was sadness both for his passing, and the passing of our youth.

Dan Zimmermann was a big guy with a big personality. The kind of guy whose good mood was infectious. We had some good times at WooPoo U (West Point) our Firstie (Senior) year, although I also remember him studying a lot – he was taking P Chem, a class not for the faint of heart. Still, I remember an evening or two (or three) of partying.

Dan’s Graduation Picture

After graduation in 1978, we reunited several months later in Wurzburg, Germany. I was stationed with the 123d Signal Bn (3ID) at Hindenburg Kaserne, and he was across town with a Chemical unit. I can’t remember now if he was a part of 3ID or some other unit. Over the next three years, we managed to hit more than a few Bier and Wien Fests together in the surrounding area.

I remember one evening in ‘80 or ‘81 when the town he lived in held something called a “Heckenwirtschaft.” In Franconia, a part of Bavaria, small towns would occasionally allow the small wine growers to open their homes as limited seating “pubs” – an event called a “Heckenwirtschaft”. Dan’s landlord was one of the people who opened their homes. We spent the night wandering from house to house, and in their cellars or kitchens sampled some good white wines and wonderful homemade foods. It was a great time – one of those evenings when it’s just you and the locals, and because of Dan’s landlord, we were treated like locals as well. Nights like that don’t come around all that often and I remember it to this day. We may have overserved ourselves a bit that evening.

We lost track of each other after our next assignments and didn’t see each other for a couple of decades. In 2015, Cath and I held a mini-reunion for my West Point Company, B-3. There were about eighteen of us here for the weekend and Dan joined up at the last minute for the two nights of festivities. It’s funny, but the whole group of us clicked back together, as if it was Firstie year in 1978. There were stories told, both old and new. The bonds we’d forged decades before on the banks of the Hudson River still held strong.

We saw each other for what turned out to be the last time at our 40th reunion at West Point in 2018. He had become the National Sergeant at Arms for the American Legion, and told us about escorting both candidates, Secretary Clinton and Mr. Trump, to the stage in 2016, when each spoke at the Legion’s National Meeting prior to the election.

B-3 Classmates at the 40th Reunion in 2018. Dan is in the Center in the Back.

In 2020, Cathy and I were going to hold another mini B-3 reunion in May here in Warrenton, Virginia. Dan and I traded emails and spoke, and he was planning to come. Unfortunately, in April, we cancelled the get-together due to Covid. Dan called me after that and we talked for about 10 or 15 minutes about Covid, along with this and that. It was the last time we spoke with each other. He didn’t mention the lung cancer he already knew he was dying of.

It’s Forty-some years since our graduation from West Point in 1978 and those years have passed much too quickly. I think of Dan, and my other classmates, both living and dead. Our class will still have plenty of good times together, and many more reunions. Having said that, the chapel service honoring our departed classmates at those reunions becomes just a little sadder each time.

I’ve also been thinking about the great Dire Straits/Mark Knopfler song, “Brothers in Arms” and it’s refrain,

“You did not desert me

My brothers in arms…”

Whenever I hear the song, I think of both West Point and my time in the Army. The song is bittersweet, and also a testament to those who have served, and the brotherhood that exists between them. Released in 1985, it also reminds me of my 8 1/2 years with the Army in Germany that decade.

And of course, I can’t help but remember the song “The Corps” from West Point. It celebrates the continuity of The Long Gray Line, past, present and future.

Grip hands with us now tho’ we see not. Grip hands with us strengthen our hearts … Grip hands, tho’ it be from the shadows…

Rest In Peace Zman, Rest in Peace. You are gone, but not forgotten.

Grip Hands …

Addendum:

– You can read Dan’s official obituary here, if you so desire. https://www.mvfh.org/guestbook/daniel-zimmermann . Dan is survived by his wife Mary Lepley, and three children.

– My classmate COL Chuck Allen (Ret) captured that 2015 B-3 Company get together pretty perfectly in this article: https://cumberlink.com/print-specific/article_9ce2a381-0218-5973-b12e-1196218b230d.html . Chuck is still doing great work and teaching Leadership at the Army War College.

– Thanks as always to my friend Colleen for her super editorial assistance. I’m alway thankful for her corrections to my poor English. I’m better than when I started this blog 5 years ago, but still have room for improvement. Thanks Colleen!

The Jetty – A Place Where our Dog Carmen and I can Both get a Drink

The Jetty – A Place Where our Dog Carmen and I can Both get a Drink

I’ve never ever heard someone say “Man, I can’t stand The Jetty”. In fact, it’s just the opposite. It’s one of those places that has found a way to appeal to old locals, new locals, people passing by, and tourists. As a bonus, dogs are allowed on the outdoor deck, which makes it one of Carmen’s favorite places as well. Every town should have a place like The Jetty Restaurant and Dockbar, but many don’t.

Cathy and I have been stopping at the Jetty for the last ten years. It’s on the way to our house at the Bay, and a great place for lunch. Two hours from home (and about 45 min from The Bayhouse), it’s the perfect stopping point.

The first time we went to The Jetty was with friends Pat and Bob, and Becky and Jim. Cathy mentioned to her girlfriends we were going to the Bay, and maybe we could meet them for a drink along the way. Becky said to Cathy “What about meeting at the jetty?” Cath answered “Becky – which jetty? There must be ten jetties in that stretch along the water.” Becky answered “Not a jetty, THE Jetty – it’s a bar”. And so we were introduced to this wonderful beach bar.

The Jetty has a great location on Kent Narrows.

Located in Maryland, just over the Bay Bridge on the Eastern Shore, the bar has a great view overlooking Kent Narrows. In the spring, summer and fall, the outdoor tables on the deck stay full, while in the wintertime, the indoor bar and restaurant fill up. With all of the glass “garage type doors” for the bar, the view from inside is almost as good as sitting outside.

With all of the roll-up windows, The view from inside the deck bar, is almost as good as from outside.

When stopping for lunch, we know a nice selection of cold beers, excellent Bloody Marys or tasty Crushes are there waiting for us. The food is decent, and this being the Eastern Shore, the crabs in the summertime and oysters in the winter are always excellent. Good burgers, fish sandwiches or tacos, a great Crab Cake, and excellent salads are all on the menu. This is bar food at it’s best… If you are looking for something more substantial, there’s always several wonderful seafood dinners on the menu as well… As a bonus, dogs are allowed on the outdoor deck, which also makes it one of Carmen’s favorite places. They always bring her a bowl of water, and if you are inclined, you can order special doggie “meals” off the menu for your fourlegged companion (we don’t). She always enjoys barking “hi” to the other dogs on the deck.

The mental transition to vacation mode starts pretty quickly when sitting on the deck, looking at the water and relaxing with a drink. A beer, or two, along with a sandwich makes that last 45 minutes of driving time to Tilghman pass pretty quickly.

Getting in vacation mode….

I’ve seen bikes, motorcycles, cars, trucks, and one year on St Paddy’s Day, a bus parked outside. Many folk also arrive by boat, docking in one of the slips.

We’ve also met friends there for drinks, or for dinner. It’s not a bad way to while away a few hours on a sunny afternoon. On weekends, they often have a band. Our friends, Pat and Bob live just three or four miles from The Jetty – in Pat’s words – “The Jetty is practically our every Friday happy hour go-to bar. Such a beautiful setting, especially the gorgeous sunsets.“

Every town should have a place like The Jetty, but many don’t. The water and view certainly help, but the way they appeal to everyone, local or not, is what makes the difference for me. I’m glad it’s on our list of local watering holes and places for a meal. If you happen to cross the Bay Bridge on Route 50 heading to the Eastern Shore or the Atlantic Ocean, make sure and give The Jetty a try. If you’ve been making the trip for awhile, you probably already knew that.

Addendum:

– Thanks to our friend Pat for reviewing and providing input for this blog.

– Note – this isn’t an advertisement for the Jetty and I was provided no money (or drink) in exchange for writing this blog! It’s a local bar/restaurant we just really like.

An Accidental Night in Chicago

An Accidental Night in Chicago

The night wasn’t supposed to happen. As a matter of fact, in today’s post 9-11 world, it couldn’t happen. They never would have made it through security. But in 1991? Yea, my buddies Howard and June sprung me from O’Hare Airport during a layover, and we had an unexpected night in Chicago.

It was July 2nd, 1991 and I’d been in Omaha, Nebraska for a week. We were running communications tests on the President’s “other plane” – the National Emergency Airborne Command Post (NEACP – pronounced Kneecap). NEACP is the plane the president uses in the event of a nuclear attack. The tests went well and ended quicker than expected. As a result, I was racing to the airport to try and catch a flight home that evening, rather than my scheduled flight the next day.

NEACP – The President’s Other Plane

I made the airport with twenty minutes to spare and was able to get a ticket. At the time, there were no direct flights from DC to Omaha and I would need to connect through Chicago with a two hour layover. At the airport, I found a pay phone (don’t forget this was the pre-cellphone age) and called my buddies June and Howard in Chicago to see if they could meet me at the airport for a beer (remember pre 9-11 times at the airport? Anyone could walk out to the plane gates, and in fact, many people did. Usually not for a beer, but to meet loved ones when their plane arrived). Neither Howard or June were home so I left them a message on their answering machine. I figured the odds of them receiving the message AND making it to the airport on time were between slim and none. I ran to the plane and boarded.

An Entry From my Journal About the Weekend in Question*

An hour and a half later we landed in Chicago and I left the plane. I’ll be damned – both June and Howard were there at the gate to meet me! Handshakes all around and we found a bar near the gate I would fly out of two hours later.

We drank a couple of beers and June offhandedly said “Why don’t you spend the night?” I told him United wouldn’t let it happen, and how I was lucky to be on this flight at all. Then we thought, what the hell, let’s give it a shot. I walked over to the ticket agent at the gate and talked with him about changing my connecting flight to the next day. We went back and forth about it, but he gave me about fifteen reasons why he couldn’t do it. I walked back to the bar, which was within site of the agent and reported to the boys that it was no dice.

The Chances of Spending the Night in Chicago Didn’t Look Good*

Howard wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He set his beer down and marched over to the agent. He proceeded to berate the agent and said something like this to him – “What kind of American are you? Here’s my friend, a soldier doing his duty protecting our country while here you are, sitting on your ass and not doing anything to help out. My friend puts his life on the line every day – don’t you think he’s worth that small gesture?” (Or words to that effect. Howard was pretty animated – as he related to me recently, he was performing on stage regularly then including at the Improv Olympic in Chicago. That gave him some of the confidence to pull off the role of “irate friend”). They talked a bit more and Howard came back to the table with a smile – It was on! The agent gave me a return ticket for the next day and we left O’Hare.

We were starving by now, and headed to a new Giordano’s Pizzaria. At the time, Giordano’s had only two or three locations in Chicago, and no where else. We ordered a couple of stuffed pizzas along with a few more beers. The night progressed. From there, it was on to another bar, and then to a bar across the street from their apartment for a final beer and a tequila (or two). We finally made it to bed around 1:30AM.

The next morning, I was moving a bit slowly. When I woke up, Howard was already gone, as he had to be at work early. June and I cleaned up and went out for a quick breakfast, before he drove me back to the airport. We arrived at 10:15, just in time to catch my 11:10 flight – it was my original flight, before I rescheduled everything the day before… ;-).

It was an unexpected night in Chicago with my oldest friends. What could possibly be better?

Howard, Me and June, Two Months Later in September of 1991. I was Back in Illinois for a Couple More Days. Bloodies were Evidently on the Menu this Particular Day.

Addendum:

⁃ * I’ve kept a journal for decades. I’ve rarely used it for any of my blogs, because I’m usually sporadic about what I write. When I was younger, it seems I wrote in it most often while traveling. The “writing” pictures you see in this blog are extracts from the journal. I’ve told this particular story several times before, but never looked in my journal to see if I recorded it. I was looking for something else, and came across these entries. My memory was pretty close to what I had written, although I didn’t specifically remember going to Giordano’s, drinking tequila that night, or the breakfast the next day. Those recollections are straight from the journal.

⁃ Thanks to June (Tim Stouffer) and Howard (Kim Johnson) for contributing to this blog. Thanks even more for being lifelong friends.

⁃ If you want to learn more about the NEACP, you can do so here: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boeing_E-4 .

⁃ The job I had in the Army at the time was pretty interesting, and involved Nuclear Command and Control (C2) systems, among other things. A week after this trip on NEACP, I went to Norfolk for a week and was on the USS Nassau, a Tarawa Class Amphibious Assault ship. We were again testing Nuclear C2 systems.

The Friendliest Strangers

The Friendliest Strangers

The friendliest strangers Cathy and I ever met were at a pub in the town of Blarney. It was during a long night on a short trip to Ireland in January of 1981. We had spent the day driving around County Cork, finishing up in Blarney, where we dutifully toured the castle and kissed the Blarney Stone.

Cathy kissing the Blarney Stone. Yes, that’s how you do it. Upside down, and backwards.

Afterwards, we found a B&B to stay in and then adjourned to a local pub for a drink or two before dinner. It was probably about 4PM when we entered and we were the only ones there. We sat at a small table and I went to the bar to order myself a Murphy’s Stout and Cathy an Irish coffee. It was a raw day, and after the chill of the castle, it was good to be inside and warming up.

Often times, I think the nondescript pubs and bars are the best ones.

A bit of time passed and as we were finishing up our drinks, a man came in, nodded in our direction and went to the bar where he ordered a stout. As he was sipping his pint, he turned towards us and said,

“Would you be American?”

I answered “yes”.

“Ah then, could I buy you a drink?”

Not wanting to turn down his hospitality we said yes, and joined him at the bar where he introduced himself as Conor. When Cathy ordered an Irish Coffee, he informed her he’d buy her a real drink, but not a made up one. We all laughed and she ordered a pint as well. We toasted and then talked about this and that.

A bit later, another man came in and joined us at the bar. Cath and I introduced ourselves to him. He then said,“Would you be American? Could I buy you a drink?” Of course we accepted. A bit later, a couple more guys came in, joined our group and the same thing happened. Our money was literally no good. As we drank another round, the pub started filling up.

By now it was about 7:30 at night and we still hadn’t eaten. We asked the bartender about dinner, but it turned out they didn’t serve food. At that point Conor recommended the pub across the street for dinner. We thanked him and told the group we’d be back in a bit. They laughed, said it was good to meet us, and it was plain they thought we probably wouldn’t return.

We crossed the street and entered the other pub. There was a wedding reception going on in the main room, so we slipped into the smaller adjacent bar and sat at a table. The bartender took our order for food and we both ordered some water. As we were waiting, an older man came in from the main room to talk with the bartender and then saw us and came over to say hello. We started talking and it turned out he was the father of the bride. He suddenly said “Ahhh, you’d be American. Would you like to join us at the reception? There’ll be dancing later”. We thanked him, and although he was insistent, we declined several times and said we needed to rejoin our friends back at the other bar. He bought a round of drinks for the three of us, and we proceeded to toast the bride and groom. As our food arrived, he said goodbye, and went back to the reception.

After finishing dinner, we paid and said good night to the bartender. Now, the smart thing to do at this point, would have been to return to our B&B, maybe have a whiskey with our hosts, and turn in. Instead, we proceeded back across the street, for just “one final beer” with our new old friends.

It had grown crowded in our absence. As we looked around, Conor called out and waved to us. We worked our way through the crowd and rejoined “our group” on the far side of the bar. Someone we hadn’t met before immediately bought us another beer. And so it continued for a couple more hours … “Ahhh, you’d be American. Can I buy you a drink?” Finally, around 10PM, I bought a round for about half the pub I think. There were cheers all around. I looked at the clock a bit later and it was 10:40. I thought to myself “OK, just make it to 11PM. The pub will close, and we can make our way home to the B&B.” (at the time, pubs closed at 11PM in Ireland. Nowadays, it’s 1130PM on weekdays, although Covid has currently shortened the hours.)

11PM came… and … they closed the shutters on the windows, locked the door… and … everyone kept on partying! Oh lord …

A little after midnight, the pub started emptying and we knew it was time to go. We said goodbye to Conor and our other new friends, with many handshakes, backslaps and hugs all around. Finally, we departed and made our way to the B&B.

At the B&B, we found the owner had put two rubber hot water bottles under our blankets at the foot of the bed. It was a toasty night’s sleep in more ways than one.

The next day, I felt way better than I had a right to. I suppose the hearty Irish breakfast helped. As we ate breakfast and drank our coffee, Cathy and I talked and laughed about the night before and what a great time we had. It’s amazing how quickly you can sometimes make friends when traveling. You start the night as strangers, and by the end, you are friends of sorts. Not life long buddies, but friends nonetheless. Over time, it’s certainly happened for us in other locales, and with other people, but that night in Blarney? I dunno. Maybe we gained the gift of gab from kissing the Stone, and maybe not. I do know it’s a night I’ve never forgotten.

Addendum:

That 1981 vacation was about ten days long. We spent the first five or six days in England, including New Year’s Eve at Trafalgar Square (London’s equivalent of Time Square for NY Eve at the time). We then spent five days in Ireland, including Dublin, and driving along the south coast past Waterford, eventually arriving in County Cork. Here’s a picture of Cathy along the Coast – I’m not sure why, but I really like this candid photo of her. She was 25 years old at the time.

⁃ In researching a couple of items for this blog, I found out pub lock-ins evidently happen more than you might think. Here’s an article about them: https://www.afar.com/magazine/the-late-night-secret-irelands-pubs-dont-want-you-to-know-about

– Happy Saint Paddy’s Day next week. Everyone is Irish on the 17th…