Ireland 2007

Ireland 2/25-3/3/07 – Sunny Strong

When Mike was invited to speak at the European Hemovigilance  meeting in Dublin, I was excited! Yes, I would accompany him to this land of many of my ancestors and some of his! In 1964, my friend Kathy Sweeney and I took the ferry from Liverpool to Dublin for a long weekend. I bought an inexpensive christening gown for my future children and was teased mightily by the Irish customs agents as I was unmarried. Oh yes, times have changed. The Ireland we visited has benefited from: European Union money (given because they were considered a deprived nation), the youth of the populace, the use of  the Euro, making them world trade friendlier than England, and the fine schools.

The overseas flight schedule was my dream timing: leaving the states in the evening then arriving in Europe just before dinner. We flew on a one-third-full British Air plane. When we approached Dublin, I got ‘chilly bumps’. I really did feel my roots. I enthusiastically photographed the shamrock on the Aer Lingus planes. When the customs official asked whether I were Irish, I bubbled, “Yes!” Then, realizing my error, explained I was very proud to be an Irish-American.

The man who met us at the airport was sprightly as a leprechaun. About our age, he walked briskly and we followed behind him. We chatted about the rugby game the day before. History was made when Ireland defeated London, not because of the score, but because it represented a healing from Bloody Sunday in 1920 when several Irish died. The driver said Ireland has matured in its outlook towards “The Troubles” in the years of British domination. Now that Ireland is competitive economically, London must deal with them.

That night we enjoyed Arlington Hotel’s traditional Irish music and dance entertainment in a publike setting downstairs. Our Irish driver recommended it as an authentic Irish experience. He said we could remember the name ‘Arlington’ because that was where John Kennedy was buried. Guinness and beef pie were tasty. It was wonderful listening to the people in the pub joining in when the band (2 guitars plus accordion) played and sang familiar songs. Two young women and one young man danced. There was much to celebrate. Two young English couples next to us were in Dublin that weekend to see the game. They remarked how decent both sides treated each other. There may actually be a chance for a lasting peace and even a united Ireland! The seating was communal at long narrow tables. On our left was a couple from Newfoundland. He had tears in his eyes as he remembered and sang along. He is Irish, but now an expat.

Speaking of pubs, in 2004 smoking was prohibited. Yea! We had just experienced very smoky pubs in London. I am ambivalent about the importance of pubs in Ireland. They are social centers, yet, many are there without their families. It’s cozy until someone gets rowdy, etc. Maybe this is the case in bars worldwide? Some of the old pubs are gorgeous with fine wood carvings and exquisite stained glass and light fixtures.

Languages- English, then Polish, then Chinese predominate! The latter two result from the many jobs available in this growing economy. Often the person I asked directions from, was pleasant, but unable to direct me to famous places in Dublin. Or, they were uneasy about their English skill. There is a movement to reinstate Irish as the national language. Children learn Irish (Gallic) in school. The EU provides translation for those who prefer to speak in Irish at international meetings. Sections of County Galway fall into that category.

Wicklow Mountains- We took a bus tour to these mountains rounded my years of weather. Ten days prior, they had snow there. Generally, Ireland has a moderate climate similar to Seattle’s. They joke that they have all 4 seasons every day. In fact, it did rain, then clear, then blow, then clear, then rain on the days we were there, especially in the West. They describe a rainy day as ‘soft’ day. We walked around a former monastery at Glendalough. The cemetery sits in a lovely valley with heather, peat bogs, stone fences, and winding roads –picturesque. It might be very spooky at night! A 10^th c. round tower still stands sentry.

Avoca- a tiny village continuing its centuries old weaving tradition. In fact, I have relatives who lived in Avoca, PA! Nearby two rivers converge inspired  poet Thomas Moore to pen “Meetings of the Waters”. We toured the old mill where they still handknot the threads. In India, just three months ago, we observed another weaver using these old techniques.

Dublin’s City Hall at Dublin Castle Reception- A harpist played in this elegant marble-floored hall. At dinner afterwards, Dad was given a Waterford picture frame as a thank-you for being a speaker.

Our Westin Dublin hotel was next to Trinity College, founded by Elizabeth I to civilize the Irish. Ha! I walked into the hall where the Book of Kells is displayed. It is charming in its handsized portable version. However, the full sized pages are shown to allow us to examine the skilled illustration by the Irish monks. To realize this was made about 800AD is to be amazed. I remembered reading How the Irish Saved Civilization where the contributions of the scholarly monks are described.

It was pouring down rain as I set off to the Writer’s Museum. Unfortunately, the James Joyce museum was closed for the season until March 1^st! When I listened to Ulysses, I felt a strong connection to Joyce’s characters in their speech patterns. Ah, someone else musing about many things at once as they contemplate: what they’ll have for lunch, the meaning of the cosmos, the jewelry of a stranger across the room, the dreams they have ….all in a minute’s time. Soaking wet, I took the Fodor guide’s suggestion to have a snack at the little café there. I walked down the stairs. Mmmm. Looked closed! Then I saw a doorbell and rang it. I was escorted into one of the most exclusive restaurants in Dublin without knowing it. There were no prices on the menu. Oh Boy. I just had a small appetite and didn’t want the works. We were having a banquet dinner that evening. I pleaded my case. They were gracious. My veal was tender and perfectly paired with leeks, lemon, and potatoes. Delicious. The museum features several Irish writers including Joyce, Keats, Shaw and Synge. I learned that Keats defended Synge’s language against censors and that Keats collected folktales.

The banquet was held in the former chapel of the National Hospital. The ceiling contained delicate stucco work. Very pretty and impressive. The Modern Art museum is housed in the former hospital. The covered walkway borders the building. They lit it with alternating pink and turquoise lights. It was magical to see as we approached the building on this dark and rainy night.

Not the birth of a Genealogist!!!!!!!!

I don’t have the endurance or patience to examine all those records, eliminating false leads, waiting in line for fiche that may or may not be relevant. My goal was to see whether there were O’Melvenys in Dublin, County Galway, County Mayo, or Northern Ireland. I went to the National Library of Ireland, an impressive building. I was referred to the Heraldic Library a block away. When I talked to the genealogist, he said he needed to leave for 30 minutes and that I should return then. So I walked back to the National Library, excited to find two families: J. O’Melvena

2 Pine Ct. Broughshane

Ballymena County Antrim

Northern Ireland

J.O’Melvenna

129 Carnlough RD, Broughshane

Ballymena County Antrim

Northern Ireland

Source: Northern Ireland telephone directory, 2000, p.1112

Walking Path through Dublin- Joined Annemarie deVries from the Netherlands for a walking tour from her guidebook. It was raining most of the time! I recommend Hughes bar with a view of the canal. In the National History and Archeology Museum, saw film and examined the Treasures exhibit of 1c. AD. We walked through neighborhoods, but were distracted by the heavy rain.

I read about the wonderful Evensong service at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, so asked Mike to meet me there at 5:45pm. I got there early. I must definitely share some of my father’s propensity for guerilla tourism! Within ten minutes I had broken several rules.

One cleric asked me to take my cell phone outside even though it hadn’t made a sound and neither had I. I was walking towards the door in order not to be distracting.

One cleric asked me to sit down when I was looking for Jonathan Swift’s grave.

One cleric asked me not to sit where I was sitting.

One cleric suggested I could sit up nearer the choir once the rope was removed.

One cleric said I should sit in the back.

Once Mike arrived, we were asked to sit way in back as the service had started.

Mike was late as no one seemed to know where this enormous church was located, even when he was 2 blocks away.

Two dozen candles were lit in two rows bordering the choir on either side of an aisle. Medieval banners flew overhead. Very dramatic! Each place in the pews had a unique needlepoint cushion. The carvings and wood were very impressive. Couldn’t help but think of the Harry Potter movies and even of the Da Vinci Code! There is a choir school across the street. The choir that night was all male from adolescents to adults.

We joined a friend at Romano’s restaurant for dinner. His Dartmouth

Resident urged him to try this inexpensive, tasty menu.

Irish Rail Tour- Thursday-Friday

We arrived at Hueston Station at 6:15am. This must be the coldest spot in all of Ireland! All the doors were propped open. I was freezing.

We passed some beautiful Georgian homes with their doors of green, red, yellow, blue. In the old days, servants lived upstairs, gentry below.

We passed through Limerick, home to writer Frank McCourt who described his squalid childhood there. Saw the River Shannon, longest in Ireland. Admired the mostly lavender heather, now in bloom. Daffodils enliven the roadsides throughout Ireland. Johnny Cash wrote of Ireland’s “40 shades of green”. He got that right. No wonder this Irishwoman loves green!

Thatched roofs are common in this area. I loved the contrast of white stucco, bright shutters, and thatched roof.

How fortunate to have a sunny day on the train! As we rolled through the green countryside, a group of horsemen emerged from a cluster of trees- all in full livery and at about 7am. We saw gentle pastures rather than cultivated plots. Many, many sheep, an occasional golf course. Lovely babbling streams, walking paths, dark patches of peat, stacks of peat drying in the fields. We later saw a peat stick fire in a restored village. Charming stone outbuildings standing near ‘cookie cutter’ new houses.  Many of these country houses have the brightly painted doors of the Georgian homes in Dublin. We rode through County Kildare, home of Thomas Fitzgerald, an O’Melveny relative.

The bus tour took us to Bunratty Castle and Folk Village. We chatted with an Irish guide about our family’s connections to Ireland. She described the Fitzgeralds as stylish and determined not to give into England. The furniture in the Castle was not the original furniture but was from that period and collected from other European countries from the 1500s. It was a real mood-setter to descend from the bus, walk the country lanes of the village and listen to the busy crows and crowing roosters.

The bus driver pointed out a tree growing right next to the highway. It is one of the fairy trees, preserved because children who perished in the famine were buried under them.

Ireland has more single family homes per population (85%) than any other European country. Due to the harsh weather and winds, many are without lawns, shrubs, or gardens giving a stark impression from the outside.

The Cliffs of Moher- a must see!!!!!

Gorgeous, dramatic jagged cliffs jutting out like ocean liner prows into the Atlantic. I thought of Richard Serra’s Seattle Waterfront sculpture newly installed. We walked and gawked. What a sight! Someone on the tour returned the following day in a sightseeing plane to fly over the cliffs.

The Burrens- We walked on some burrens, lunar-like plates, sheets of flat rocks near the sea. In this area, cleared pastures yielded stones to make the lacelike fences. This design allowed the fierce north winds to pass through. It’s also pretty.

We saw small stone abandoned cottages from the 1845-1850 famine years. A cemetery contains single stones honoring those who died nearby.  In 1847, landlords evicted thousands of people. Therefore, the words ‘eviction’ and ‘informer’ are fighting words to the Irish. We delighted in a rainbow over Galway Bay. What beautiful country! There is a certain type sailboat, made nearby, called “The Galway Hooker.” Across the bay are the Aran Islands which preserve the old ways and therefore attract many tourists.

We passed Galway Harbor where, according to our guide, Matthew Francis Flaherty most probably left for America. Many Flahertys lived near the fjords in County Galway.

We learned the Flahertys were fierce warriors, defending the gates at Connemara.

That night I had the freshest, lightest, moistest salmon at Skeff’s on Eyre Square in Galway City. It’s worth seeing just for the interior décor and woodwork. Across the square is a black, Miro’ like sculpture that serves as a playground. A typical stone frontispiece from one of the 14 famous Galway merchants’ homes is displayed there also.

Galway University attracts students from all over the world and is Galway City’s main source of revenue. The town has a youthful spirit with free wireless connections.

Tour of Connemara- west of Galway City. Bogs make the land mooshy. I sank when I stepped on it. We saw the bridge from the film “The Quiet Man” starring John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara. Swans swim in many of the lakes nearby. There are 3 million sheep in Connemara.

We had delicious Irish coffee in a tiny town where “The Field” was filmed. Nice thick cream over black strong coffee with a bit of whiskey. Cozy in this pub by the fireplace. We saw County Mayo across the fjord. There was a family story of a castle in Cross-Melina. (long i).

Musings: The Irish are empathetic. Think this makes us sentimental and sensitive. Lovely, right? Unfortunately, this may make us more likely to be offended. When  offended we might fight from hurt feelings? I observed this empathy as men and women would be great conversationalists by asking each person how they were, finding something in common with others in the room, etc. The people of all levels seem to have an extensive vocabulary. It was a joy to hear.

I love seeing Irish connections: curly hair, shapely legs. (not a modest comment, but at this stage in life, something left to brag about?)

Kylemore Castle Abbey Monastery- a fabulous stop! Mountains, gardens, lake, lovely paths, stately mansion, fine hand rendered details on the interiors of house and chapel. Benedictine nuns run an exclusive boarding school and day school for girls. It’s a must see- 2.5hrs drive from Galway City.

Toured through Baelacht where Irish is THE language spoken. One cannot buy land there unless one speaks it. One cannot build there on one’s inherited land unless one speaks it!

There are so many small plots of land throughout Ireland. Each son would be given a plot from the family farm. Stone fences, high enough to ward off the North winds, divide the plots.

The Celtic Tiger!

This is an auspicious time for Ireland. There is such buoyancy and hope. Bill Clinton is revered for helping negotiate the Irish peace accord ( The Good Friday agreement. For the first time in 30 years, a generation has grown up without being surrounded by violence.

I will certainly look forward to investigating O’Melveny roots while in Northern Ireland and returning to County Galway one day!

Geneva 2010

Geneva 2010

Our Delta flight zoomed us from Seattle to Amsterdam, then into Geneva.

We picked up FREE transit tickets from a machine at the airport, and then boarded Bus #5 which took us to our hotel. En route bare trees lacy from a light snowfall were interspersed with Swiss chalets. My enjoyment of this winter wonderland was peppered with thoughts like: “How will we find the hotel once we leave the warm bus?” And “ Is international travel actually glamorous?”

We joined meeting participants from around the world for dinner at “Bagatelle’s”. Our main concern was staying awake despite the major JET LAG. It didn’t seem the time to sample the house specialty, beef tartar, although several people did.

Our Hotel Les Nations is small and full of Swiss art. We are in a neighborhood full of United Nations -related buildings. Each floor of the hotel has a display: clocks, door -knockers, shoe and hat lasts, room keys. A mural decorates the building’s back, depicting villagers moving their cattle to higher land. Some nice paintings keep us company in the dining room. We each received a transit pass good for the week. I’m tempted to take the yellow ferry on Lac Leman if it warms up a bit. How I love to sail on this beautiful lake.

For my first day’s adventure, I planned to see the Giacometti exhibit at the Musee Rath. However, when I arrived it was closed, so I climbed the hill up to the old town.  I spotted a bookstore boasting beautiful leather-bound old books, some with that  ‘used’ but not ruined patina. In response to my request for touring advice, the bookseller recommended two spots. His selections were perfect for my tastes! I suspect booksellers and librarians share many interests.

International Museum of the Reformation

The International Museum of the Reformation is outstanding! Harry Potter fans will smile as they see Martin Luther and John Calvin telling their stories from the fancy mirror in the drawing room .The narration and interactive exhibits inform and entertain. My Catholic education gave credit to Luther for his good intentions, but painted Calvin and Knox with unflattering brushes. In this museum we hear “the other side “ of the story. It is very provocative for me.  It is so sad to think of the inhuman deeds done in the name of religion!  There must be a need to elevate our religious leaders, thus tempting them to believe they’re preternatural and deserving of privilege. Ingeniously, there is a tiny chapel tucked away where one can meditate while listening to liturgical music of the time.

Cathedrale Saint Pierre

Nearby St. Peter’s was very worth the visit. I climbed the 157steps of the north tower to get a view of the city and lakeshore. About 2/3 of the way up, I realized no one on earth knew I was in that narrow, old stone staircase. I gulped for air and realized my sea level lungs were adjusting to a much higher elevation. Yikes! This from someone who begs Mike not to use a ladder unless I’m in the house to rescue him. All went well until I stepped out onto the icy floor of the outside balcony. If I took a moment away from clinging to the ancient stone banister, I could notice the exquisite panoramic view of Geneva, the lake, and the mountains. I felt a sense of accomplishment. Climbing all those steep steps at my age!  My joy was temporary. When I tried the immense wooden doors to the inside staircase, they were locked!

I made my way around the tower to a door that let me back inside. Descending was a relief. I saw no one at all during my climb or descent. (Read off-season)

Downstairs in the cathedral, technology shows the different layers of ‘churches’ built one upon the other through the ages. (Allobrogians, Romans, Medieval Christians). The archeologists working there welcome input from visitors and scholars. Their excavations are well lit. A taped narrative explains the findings. Seeing the indentations made when bells were forged, seeing the actual burial pits, baptismal pools, monks’ cells carved into the stone made the trip downstairs fascinating.

Red Cross Museum

My Sumatran friend Rima and I took the bus from the hotel on a cold morning. Approaching the museum we see a huddle of stone figures aptly named ‘Petrified.’ We descend the stairs into the dark reality of man’s inhumanity to man. The fate of prisoners is emphasized although service to natural disaster victims is included in the powerful depictions.  War footage is sad to watch. Life size dioramas depict rescues, medical intervention, supplies given. It is a somber place weighted down by the suffering effectively depicted.

 Rima related to the flooding disasters depicted. It has not been long since her country suffered from a terrible tsunami.  In one section of the museum there are tall shelves holding boxes containing a card for each prisoner of World War I. The Red Cross performed an invaluable service, notifying next of kin. Seeing a card for each known prisoner intensifies our understanding of the scope of this tragedy.

Masons emporium is like a city within the city of Geneva. Are you in the mood for fresh sweet plantains? Designer clothes at steep discounts? A wooden cuckoo clock?

We ate lunch with swarms of locals who, like us, had elbowed their way past delectable-looking food displays. We squeezed ourselves next to strangers and focused on very tasty food. How they keep so many people happy with such hot entrees and fresh pastries is impressive. Not the quiet place for that romantic lunch however.

As Mike and I were bundled up and ready to walk to dinner, we had the good fortune of running into Netty Mbatha from South Africa. Brave soul in high heels and no hat, she accepted our invite to join us. I had passed a cute restaurant with award-winning bouillabaisse- just the thing to warm our insides. Too bad what I thought was a short walk turned into a great long haul with wind raising the chill factor. We entered an empty restaurant (not a good advertisement) and sat down. Sorry, they were out of the fish soup. Oh well, how about a glass of wine? Only French and Swiss wines proffered. When we chauvinistically reminded the café owner that South Africa and Washington State respectively, had fabulous wines, too; he said his clientele only selects Swiss and French wines. In fact, we had wonderful Swiss wines

that week. The restaurant was full when we left.

Rath Museum

Musee Rath is just the right size for the Giacometti exhibition. The building, like many in Geneva, is grand. There is space between works making it easy to muse and linger. Seeing a body of work is its own tutorial. Hey, I think “ Walking Man” is worth the $104.3 million making it the highest price ever paid for art at an auction!

We slipped and slid along the icy sidewalks to Café Lyrique , a charming old world café with a cadre of highly skilled waiters. My mushroom and escargots dish was delicious. You never could have convinced me as a child that I would gush over such foods.

Lausanne

After the final day of meetings, we boarded the train for Lausanne. We arrived on time, standing outside so our friends Guy and Rosemarie Bonnard could scoop us up. After a few minutes, I told Mike I’d wait inside. After many minutes we wondered where they were. Meanwhile, they were walking up and down the tracks trying to find us! They drove us to their lovely home on Lake Geneva. We dressed for dinner, enjoyed some Port and reveled in the elegance and beauty of Hotel Beau Rivage. The presentation of food was artful. This is the dreamy site of the Bonnard’s son’s wedding reception.

The Valais Canton

Oh to grow old in a land where one can board a train to Valais then tram to the Crans-Montana resort in the mountains, stroll, hike, dine alfresco with our faces to the sun and then repeat our journey back home.  How Swiss is that? Guy’s pasta dinner was perfect after our day outdoors.

Morning at the Bonnard-Bonner residence

The light is streaming into our room. We see the Alps and Lake Geneva out our window. Downstairs the beautiful light warms our breakfast of pear bread, coffee, hot chocolate and cheese.

On Valentine’s Day, Rosemarie asks if I’d like an egg. No thanks, I reply. I will enjoy the magnificent golden braided loaf of bread with Swiss cheeses. She asks me the same question again. No thanks. When she asks a third time, I say ‘Yes’. Then I smile at the heart-shaped fried egg on my delicate china plate! Friends are precious.

Musee Stradler of Fondation de l’Hermitage

Franz Marc’s   “Dog Sleeping in the Snow” was my favorite painting in this exhibit space. A new look at a familiar scene. Again, the building itself warrants notice and appreciation. The view from the hillside is spectacular. Impressionist and Post-Impressionist share the space with Chinese porcelain and temporary exhibits. Since I was in the midst of physical therapy for a tight hamstring, I lingered over the Degas sculpture of a dancer doing a thigh stretch!

We stopped for pastries at Vincent Café, and then enjoyed them with tea that afternoon.

Our farewell dinner featured Raclette and finished with little valentine cookies. Oh yes, we were spoiled. While Guy and Rosemarie were chopping and slicing, Mike and I visited with their son, Vincent and his wife, Sarah.

We caught the train back to Geneva, overnighting  at the Ramada airport hotel and asking for an impossibly early wakeup call. My seatmate on the trip back home was an international judge of team ice-skating. Since this is my granddaughter’s passion, it was fun to chat about the criteria. She knew of Sydney’s coach in Warwick. Small world.

But…………not small enough! It took me two weeks to sleep through the night. Where is that cure for jet lag?

Brazil 2007

Sao Paulo, Brazil, September 2007

            The day after we arrive, we begin to feel human. South America, located below the USA giving us a break from major Jet Lag.

Silvano Wendel, a physician from Sao Paulo, is our host.  He sent a basket of fruit (Papayas included!) to our room to welcome us. He treated a dozen of us to a fine dinner last night and invited us to his beach house after the meetings. Very generous! Viva Lata is a Brazilian restaurant in an old wooden house; lots of unusual, funky art throughout. I had Papillote white fish in a cabbage leaf, mashed banana (not a banana that is eaten by itself- just for cooking) with a pretty dome of couscous, tomato cilantro, and onion salsa. Our first yummy Caipirinha (lime and sugar cane and cacaca…oh my!). One drink is so strong it’s enough for me, but two make me believe I can do Latin dancing!

            In the restaurant there were 2 bathrooms with a common sink. A bamboo spout was surrounded by lush leaves. Very pretty.  We chatted with doctors from South Africa, Australia, USA, Netherlands, Germany, and Brazil.  The American presidential race is of immense interest to so many – quite a shock, really. Plenty of concern about the present administration. We’ve so many fences to mend!

            This morning I walked by the spa en route to exercise. I was stopped by the massage therapist offering me a free 15- minute massage. You betcha. All but one startling back stretch felt good.

            Once again the oft-repeated phrase “You only need to speak English all over the world rings shallow. Unless people use English most of their day, they speak English at the level that I speak French! In other words, we miss a lot in speaking and listening. This is not a high enough   level of competence for making travel arrangements. It’s fun to exchange pleasantries in a second language, but the words run out quickly. For instance, there is only one hotel desk staff person who can converse easily in English.

 Sao Paulo sees business travelers but few tourists. Our hosts sent a guide to our hotel. We never left the hotel. She never found us! Blush. Sooooo, they hired another guide, Carla and her driver, Marcello, to show us Sao Paulo from 2-5 pm. We paid for the tour only to have the guide learn that the hospital was paying for it! 400Rs = $200. It was honest of our guide to refund our money (She said she might have liked to be a nun… if she could keep her boyfriend). Our Brazilian friends speak of the high crime rate and low education average as truly lamentable, but unsolvable. Depressing reality?

            The Luz Train Station is newly restored. Very pretty. The Art Museum Estacao Pinacoteca preserved the old brick while opening up the space. A French painting exhibit alluded to their Brazilian experience. Then, we saw works by Brazilian artists using the pointedly realistic or impressionist style. Their nude statues depict real, not idealized bodies. There is a wonderful comfort about bodies here.

Yes, it’s sensual but also a spiritual acceptance I admire.

            I visited Musei Anchieta Cultural Center. Fr. Anchieta negotiated a peace between Franciscan/Indian and Jesuit/Indian factions.  We stopped in a little garden to have a dark coffee with hearts of palm pastry. The surrounding hedge of coffee trees and berries provided a

charming backdrop.

            Onto the Metropolitan Cathedral built in 1911. It is gothic and grand. The public square in front teemed with demonstrators fighting for social justice. Inside the church we saw a large gleaming silver disk/table used for group baptisms of the wealthy. A charismatic priest, Marcello Rossi, has attracted many people due to his engaging sermons.

            It is a tradition to tell something of the culture at the scientific meetings opening ceremony. Brazil’s started with a beautiful film on its many natural wonders: beach, forest and sky. After the welcoming speeches, we listened to a fabulous trio playing: tambourine, clarinet and guitar. This same band played for us later in the week at Silvano and

Rita’s beach home. A fudgy, Carmella Brazilian chocolate dessert won me over. It was served in a shot glass-sized cup and eaten with a tiny spoon. We chatted with Anna Prietti our friend and host from our 2003

trip to Belo Horizonte. Such a gracious, intelligent, interesting doctor/writer/mother/wife/philosopher! We hope to visit the antique

market together.

Just as in Jakarta, Sao Paulo is difficult for a ‘single’ woman to explore. Hiring a driver is overkill, yet depending on my Italian or English only works sometimes. We must have been in the Italian section of the city when we visited here in 2000!

Brazilians interact with strangers from here and everywhere. Warm, unhurried, and charming.

I arranged a taxi for 10am to take me to Avenue Paulista. I changed plans when advised it was safer to call (not hail) a cab. Time after time people gently smile and refuse a tip for help they give me. I bought something in a small shop and asked them to mail it to the USA. After a conversation among the staff, they introduced me to a teen aide. He accompanied me four blocks to the post office, packed the box of gifts, carried everything, smiled and smiled. He would only accept a $5.00 tip because I motioned it was for his lunch.  Very kind.

I visited another shop, this time buying a size 10 skirt for Sydney after a 

lengthy discussion about whether it was big enough. I left the store to shop elsewhere in the center. Two hours later, the shopkeeper spotted me and ran after me with the same style skirt in a size larger in case that was better for me.  This was amazing service and kindness!

Strolling along a main boulevard, I stopped at St. Catherine’s Hospital to sit near the fountain and enjoy this cool rose garden oasis on a hot day.

Later, I ordered a purple pudding type dessert at a nearby café. Tasted like berry, bean and root?

We highly recommend “Viva Bar Brahm” for Brazilian music and delicious local food and drinks. Many Brazilians sing and dance along with the bands: “Demonios da Garda” and Conjunto Varanda Paulista.

Such a relaxing evening.

Some memorable treats:

-Lacta’s “Sonho Valsa” scrumptious honeycomb with milk chocolate.

-The Municipal Market –an indoor extravaganza of fruits, cheeses, smoked fish and meats. Tasted atamoia, which resembles my favorite tropical fruit, mangosteen. We ate their special Mortadella sandwich

(salami, bologna, cheese on crusty roll). I met my first cashew fruit and learned that the nut resides in the stem.

-Favola with fried bananas

The “Jardim District” is full of nice homes, bistros and shops! Many buildings have a security guard posted outside. The white buildings with iron grillwork balconies are lovely. Wish I could see the gardens inside the walls!

                                                            BOICUCANGA

After the meetings we left Sao Paolo and wound our way along a curving highway to the oceanfront beach home of Silvano, Rita and Ricardo Wendel. Ricardo, a 9 years, attends school 1-5pm Mon-Fri. Rita, his mom, is a pharmacist about to get a PhD in platelets. Silvano, his dad, is a physician. The household staff was so caring.  The serene natural landscape was so soothing after our days in bustling Sao Paolo. Our room had a deck facing the pool and then the ocean. We ate dinner outside then danced to a live band on their patio. It was so fun; we danced until the wee hours!

One night three men arrived with a huge pig stuffed and ready to roast.

Throughout the night they tended its roasting. Thanks to excellent advice, we ate the tasty fatty, crackly rind and the meat. Saffron, farina , and diced salami flavored the stuffing. A salad of apples, raw cabbage and spinach was the perfect accompaniment.

Yes, we ate like pigs, and then swam in the pool, walked on the beach, played badminton with wooden rackets and a tennis ball. Mike kicked a soccer ball with Ricardo and his neighbor friend.  We were surrounded by beauty: temperate rainforest punctuated by bright flowers, turquoise concrete walls sporting pink flowering vines, domed- shaped islands and charming coves. The stormy waters made dramatic waves, but precluded our boat trip.

Three non-Brazilian teams competed to make the most attractive and most delicious caipirinhas.  This national treasure is a lime drink made with Brazilian caracao liquor. Definitely fabulous! The drinks were decorated with garnishes made of sliced starfruit, twisted lime circles,

colored straws, woven leaves, etc. Four Brazilians acted as judges.

Candles floating like lilies on the pool. Frigate birds gliding above, buzzards perched in trees, butterflies of many colors. What a paradise!

The next day we played pool, did e-mail, read and chatted. For lunch we ate a traditional stew of black beans, sausage, pork, and onions. Then local cheese served with a sweet fruit compote. Then seaweed salad and a delicate homemade pastry. The cook is from the north in Bahia. Such a meal must be followed by a long walk on the beach. It’s not too cold, though we wore several layers and a rainjacket.

Still another exceptional feast: shrimp/cheese casserole, potato pudding, apple/potato salad, fresh papaya and mango. For dessert I couldn’t decide between chocolate ice cream with FRESH coconut sauce or vanilla ice cream with coconut/passion fruit sauce. Yes, I made the right choice= both!

How sad to drink our last authentic Caipirinha and get into a car for the 2 hours car trip to the airport. Somehow it felt as if we had won a contest or were in a movie- so much luxury, hospitality, and natural beauty.

We left a lazy susan of Northwest polished wood as a house gift.

What an incredible week spent with medical people from several countries. There was time to have conversations with them all.

           

           

Utah 2009

                                                Utah June 2009

            The trip started with a visit to Scottsdale, AZ. This was our first stay in Trish and Shane’s McCormick Ranch home. It is lovely and convenient. Lauren, at 2.5 years is a lively, independent woman. Where does she get that? She and I played dolls and house and basketball. She served me virtual cherry juice in a plastic teacup out on the little balcony off her bedroom. The joys of grandparenting! Shane’s dad, Randy, joined us for dinner one night, regaling us with tales of his adventures on the high seas. It was fun.

            We left Trish and family in Arizona and headed north to Utah. This adventure was planned two years ago when Sue Rosenzweig our Rhode Island friend, suggested it. At the time our travel schedule was so full, we needed a two-year notice. Sue, her husband Marty, and our Spokane friends Del and Eva met us in Utah. We have shared trips to Italy, Glacier Park, and Greece. We always manage to laugh over our adventures and misadventures.

            The plateaus and funky rock formations were awesome as we approached the Utah/Arizona border. One section was deep turquoise with sienna and sand tones. It is sculpted by Nature with striations in horizontal squiggles. What look like pebbles alongside the road from a distance, when approached are huge boulders?

The massive scale and impermanence of southern Utah send messages of awe and reflection.

            We stopped at Navaho Bridge to view the deep canyon with a river winding below. The water was moss green set against the red of the stone cliffs. We passed sections of white rock laced through with red mineral veins. I’m liking Utah scenery!

  

            Our first three nights in Utah were spent at Ruby’s in Bryce Canyon Park.

En route we drove through a tiny town named ‘Kanab’. Wait a minute; what was that? A police car pulled up on the curb with a mannequin in the driver’s seat? We’ve seen several more as we pass through small towns. A reflection of the recession, I suspect. Some wear hats, some take awkward poses, but none is on the payroll! Mike’s comment was, “They sure have a lot of police but they’re all dummies!”

The entrance to Bryce Park, along Highway 9, is so impressive. Towering cliffs, mesas, fins (new vocabulary) several shades of stone: rose, sienna, white, gray, and turquoise. Fir trees and cottonwoods, ash and alder stand watch over the swirls etched into the rocky slopes. Amazing!

            We ate dinner at the Bryce Canyon Lodge, built in 1924 for the Union Pacific Railroad. The fresh trout with pumpkin seeds was yummy, the wine superb.

Zion National Park

            We drove the 86 miles to Zion National Park. The entrance is impressive with a long unlit tunnel followed by a dramatic switch back road down into the mammoth canyon with towering rock cliffs on all sides. We stopped at the visitor center to get our bearings and headed for trails via the shuttle service. We hiked to the Emerald Pools. It was pleasant, but the waterfalls were slight due to the lack of rain? A much more interesting hike was Weeping Rock. Signs along the way identify the flora. It ‘s a very good idea to keep one’s eye on the trail, however. The drop is formidable and the stone crumbles off the edge. The trail ends in a plateau with an overhang. Water seeps from the sandstone and forms a curtain of ‘rain’. Yellow columbines somehow grow in between the ledges with no apparent soil. There are grasses and ferns on the canyon floor. Every way we looked there was a dramatic vista with a range of colors, architectural shapes, green plants, etched rock. All this against a blue, blue sky. You don’t need to know that I urged Eva to take this hike and even offered to guide her there.  Not such a good idea since I am direction-challenged. I was confident beyond reason, as I had just taken the exact path, right?  We headed up a steep, loose rock, dusty, vertical path. Mmmm. It didn’t look familiar. Where were those nifty flora signs?  Where was the alcove with the rain curtain? Eva spotted it way below us. I had overshot and taken the wrong (and more arduous) route. Backtrack time.

We boarded the free, eco-friendly buses from place to place. All the Utah parks are very well organized and convenient for visitors.

After our hiking, we were primed to enjoy a delicious dinner at Parallel 88 restaurant in Springdale. We sat on the patio facing a view of the changing light on the mountains. The temperature was moderate, the conversation engaging, and the desserts indulgent.

            Along the road, deer seem accustomed to tourists. Buffalos roam near the highway. Antelopes frolic. The newborn mini-animals are adorable.

Bryce Canyon National Park        

Bryce Canyon is at a higher elevation than Zion. I wore all my layers in the morning chill. However, when we started hiking, the weather was perfect. Zion’s plateaus were around 6,000 ft.; Bryce’s around 8,000. Our eyes were cast upwards in Zion and downwards in Bryce. I would rate both in the “must see” category.

  

 The landscape is a mix of Tolkien, Gaudi, Roman, Greek, Polynesian and Indonesian? Wow! So intriguing. For those of us who grew up finding animal shapes in the fluffy clouds; this is grad school. The sandstone hoodoos are little towers atop the massive rock formations. Named because they evoke voodoo, they form then disintegrate over time. Rain, erosion and earthquakes created the configurations of today. These forces will continue.  The flash floods that carve this stone must be amazing to see. There are warnings everywhere to avoid the canyons during storms, as humans are powerless and must run uphill to escape drowning.

            The Navaho Loop trail winds down into the Bryce Amphitheater. It’s just steep enough to make you feel adventurous Fascinating rock shapes surrounded us. It’s easy to understand why they bear names like ‘fairyland’ and ‘hoodoo. ‘ Vivid citron primroses dot the white sandy rock. Bursts of red, yellow, and purple surprise us in their contrast to the neutral color of the ‘background’ stone. This is the Minerals Party- their time to shine and be recognized! The power of Nature may be the motivation for our respect. The sheer scale may inspire our childlike delight in this place?  We would round a corner of the trail, spot a fanciful shape, and alert our companions.

            We took the Queen’s Garden trail back. One guidebook proclaimed the Navaho Loop/Queen’s Garden walk the best 3-mile hike in Utah. I agree. We tipped our hats to the stone Queen Victoria hoodoo, towering above us. Some parts of the park reminded me of huge chess sets. Now very, very hungry, we took the park shuttle bus back to our car and headed to the motel where we expected to join the others for lunch. Oops!  “Where is Marty?” asked Sue. 

            Our intentions were sterling, our practice meandering. One of us suggested we meet at noon at the Visitors Center, another that we meet around 12:30, and another that we meet back at the motel.  Marty heard the first idea. Marty waited. Probably Marty fumed? He wisely ate lunch NOT toasting our good health. When he joined us a couple of hours later, he was calm on the outside.

            Both parks were full of visitors to America.  Always drawn to foreigners, I loved hearing French, Dutch, Japanese and Italian. It was wise to be here in early June before the crowds. The weather has been perfect so far.

We took Scenic Byway 12 from Bryce, admiring the Escalante Staircase en route.

Capitol Reef National Park

            From Highway 12, we took equally scenic Highway 24. It runs right through Capitol Reef National Park.  We drove past Chimney Rock and The Castle of stone to a picnic area, sat under a mulberry tree, and had our lunch (cheeses, crackers, fruit, and Eva’s yummy bar cookies.) A mule deer family watched us as we watched them.  We continued down Hwy 24 and stopped to see the Fremont Petroglyphs etched by native peoples about 1,000-1300 years ago.  We could discern animals and people in the several yards of remaining drawings.

Goblin Valley State Park

            The innkeeper at our next stop, Moab, insisted we stop at Goblin Valley even though it’s off the main roads. He was so right! Children from 5-105 years can frolic among the reddish stone goblins. Each is unique. It seemed squiggly shapes with beady eyes, were watching us by chubby goblins with big noses, by a trio of goblins perched on a horizontal stone bridge.  

            We arrived at our B & B in Moab, UT, and were served a chilled glass of wine and a cold beer. Our host, Keith and his wife built the Adobe Abode Bed & Breakfast Inn. We see three different mountain ranges from this unique place. A few are still snowcapped. The changing light and endlessly varied shapes are fascinating. Because it was built as an inn, there are different sitting areas to accommodate both mixing and solitude. The stuffed cougar looms over the breakfast area, Georgia O’Keeffe skulls stand sentry from the fireplace. What most interests me is the homemade furniture. A tree limb secures a countertop, clay scalloped trim serves as a baseboard.  Then onto Buck’s Grill for some delicious homemade bread, duck tacos, elk stew, buffalo meatloaf and blueberry and lemon tiramisu! Yes, it’s such a good idea to hike all day if we are to eat this grandly.

Arches National Park

            One of the world’s best bargains is a senior lifetime free admissions pass to our National Parks; it’s only $10. Can’t you just wait to be 62? We followed our usual pattern of Visitors Center, scenic drives and selected hikes.

            Double Arch trail was a highlight of this park. It is easy to imagine Indiana Jones climbing the rocky incline and scaling the arches. The arches are lovely from a distance, but really remarkable up close. We envisioned the fun our grandchildren would have climbing scary promontories and pinnacles. We also hiked to Landscape Arch and viewed Delicate Arch from a mile away. A close view of this one is earned by a steep incline. We declined.

                                    Canyonlands National Park

            The guidebook was right. This park is less crowded. We decided to concentrate on the Island in the Sky section of the park. Traveling with two avid gardeners, we stopped to examine the wildflowers in the many meadows on the canyon floors. Mesa Arch, impressive in itself, frames an incredible view of chocolate colored rock formations. These are carved like separated jigsaw pieces, separated by irregular cracks.  The shadows contrast with the deep brown and are set against the lighter pink, rose, green, yellow and purple stone nearby. Minerals create this palette- ever changing with the light. This is just one example of the power of natural forces over the millennium.

The adventures that weren’t meant to be:

1.      Shafer Road- We admired the view of this canyon and noticed a steep, winding, switch-backed narrow road snaking along the canyon walls and floor. Then we chatted with a couple nearby.  He recalled driving a jeep along this impossible road in the 1950’s, searching for uranium and a $10,000 prize from the president. All he had to do was fill his jeep with uranium. He said he fell short, but it was an adventure to make him smile in his elder years.

We asked a ranger about the road. He assured us our moderate clearance

4-wheel drive could manage this scary road even though high clearance is ideal. Mike mumbled something about having just one low gear, but I was fueled with the thrill of adventure sports within my reach. The four of us who enjoy hiking, packed into the car ready to drive to the Corona Arch trailhead. The ranger pointed out the Shafer Road was the shortest route. He mumbled that one needs to take the hairpin turns slowly and that there were two spots one could turn around if the heights bothered the spirit. I was enticed. We all agreed to this adventure. We drove to the road. We looked down. We read all the warnings. What were we thinking? We made a u-turn, took the conservative’s road to Corona Arch trail where we would reassert our prowess.

2.Corona Arch

Our soon-to-be daughter in law, Dee Dee lives nearby in Grand Junction. She recommended a hike leading to Corona Arch.  I had hoped to arrive at the trailhead at three, so we were running over an hour late. The four of us stared at the description of our future: rope ladders, slick slip rock, loose rock, elevation- oh my! Our estimate of a two-hour hike had to be revised. We reflected on our nerve and expertise. In other words, should we survive, it would take us three hours. Our farewell dinner was scheduled at 7pm. We bailed. Thanks, DeeDee, for having more faith in our ability than we possessed!

            Rock Paintings along the Colorado River in Meander Canyon

                                    The native paintings we saw in Canyon Reef were etched into the black manganese covering the sandstone.  The Meander Canyon pictures were painted directly onto the rocks. They read like a mural. A man with a bow hunted a buffalo. Adorable goats frolicked nearby. Unfortunately, so did some modern graffiti. Still, a site worth seeing, standing adjacent to the mighty Colorado River. The green grasses and cooling trees along its banks beckon. The mosquitoes wait in anticipation. Enough of that idea; we return to our cars.

                                    Our group’s farewell dinner at the Sunset Grill in Moab was tasty and congenial. We stood on the patio admiring the setting sun and surrounding hills. The restaurant was once the private home of Charlie Sheen. Unlike the man we met at Shafer Viewpoint, this man did find uranium- lots of it.  He had a 360-degree view of some gorgeous territory.

                                                Eva’s Picnic Lunches

           

            About 1pm each day, we found a picnic table. Eva swooped a blue tablecloth onto the table and handed us each a lovely cloth napkin and tumbler (choice of plum or cobalt blue). Out of her cache she brought silverware, cheeses, salami, fruit, crackers, and homemade cookies. Our final picnic had an uninvited guest. No, not a mosquito, but a wind so powerful it swept a heavy bag (opened, of course) off the table and onto the dusty, dusty earth. Lots of things toppled. We scrambled to redeem our soaked repast.

                                                The Joy of Hiking

            Hooray! Mike and I found a retirement activity we both enjoy. I love to walk anywhere anytime. Mike, for some reason, likes to walk somewhere. We earned some spectacular views by hiking each day. This gave us energy and an excuse to order: one chocolate soufflé’ with warm fudge sauce, one blueberry/lemon tiramisu smothered in whipped cream, a fancy chocolate tower of mousse, chocolate decadence, chocolate syrup with raspberry sauce, cherry pie a la mode, and cheesecake.

                                    The Serenity of Beautiful Scenery

            What a mentally relaxing week: LITTLE CELL PHONE COVERAGE, miles and miles of ever-changing scenery and helpful hosts. The sky alone invites a visit and provides a perfect backdrop to the dramatic scenery. Why haven’t I heard many people gush about southern Utah?

                        The Satisfaction of Discussing Elder Issues

Traveling with our contemporaries, we can swap health horror stories. Yes, it’s sometimes boring, but we are boring each other rather than alienating those who cannot fathom the number of losses in acuity and comfort old age brings. We laugh and share the burden. We pop pills actually prescribed by doctors!          

            The last leg of our trip was a genealogical visit to Salt Lake City. We stayed at a motel next to the Family History Library. The staff and volunteers are friendly and helpful. Like the Utah parks, the center is very well organized. Each of us made a little progress and suffered disappointment when some searches dead-ended. The Temple grounds’ beautiful little gardens soothed our tired squinting eyes. That microfilm reader is tortuous when combined with the faint fancy script of official records!

            I admire the modesty of Mormon dress. White shirts, dark slacks, gray suits, long skirts and blouses bespeak respect for self and others.

            Thanks to Fodor’s travel guide, we made dinner reservations at the Metropolitan Café for our last night in Salt Lake City. On a Wednesday night, it was nearly empty. The décor was sparse Japanese bamboo with etched copper panels. It was pricey, but delicious. This chef presented unusual combinations of food that actually enhanced the taste of the whole.  Our favorite is a house special, potato and mushroom columns sheathed in the absolutely best potato skins I’ve ever tasted. They looked like striated tree bark.  We walked back to our hotel in the light rain. Locals said it had been raining every day for three weeks.

            If you enjoy these blogs, thank our daughter, Trish, who urged me to record our adventures. The doing has always had more appeal to me than the reporting. Once I’ve written a journal, I am grateful to have a reference when recommending places to friends and family. Go to southern Utah!

                                                                                                                       

           

           

Montana 2009

Montana May 2009

Although our main motive for this road trip was to honor Magdalene Winslow by attending her 95^th birthday party, the fact we retraced family footsteps meant so much. Yes, this history stuff is ever so much more interesting as we age!

I remember Mom speaking so fondly of her time in Red Lodge, MT. She loved the fresh air, sweet water and lifestyle of this small town surrounded by snow capped mountains. When I received a copy of Heidi, I imagined Red Lodge was a lot like Switzerland.

From reading the history of Carbon County, it would seem Mom attended The Field School, as this was the elementary school 1908-1952. In 1910, the Lincoln School was built to serve the southern side of the town, so this is a possibility as well? We located the William R. Freeman home at 514 N Platt. I have a photo of Pattie, Jerry, and Mom in front of this pretty blue home, so Mike took my picture there as well.

The John Thomas Flaherty home, listed in the directory as 423 S. Hauser, is probably the home photographed from this same trip Mom, Jerry and Pattie took although there is no house number on the rundown home which occupies the place it must have been. Moving homes due to changing work situations (i.e. one mine closing) was common.

Flaherty died in 1926 in Red Lodge, so maybe James M. Freeman family then used this as their summer home as labeled on the photo?

Although the area coal mining ceased in the 1970’s, Red Lodge remains a viable old western town attracting visitors, offering the remodeled Pollard Hotel (once the Spottford), which our friends say is a great place to stay. In contrast, Washoe is just a handful of old homes on the side of the road. Smith Mine #155 which is listed as a residence for the Freemans may have been the company house that has since been moved or destroyed.

We visited the Red Lodge main cemetery. (There is a second cemetery in town for some of the families that have lived there forever. The bookstore clerk mentioned : Chapman, Meyer, Scanlin. This is not the right cemetery for our family). When you drive into the cemetery, the mausoleum is directly in front of you. Look to the right and you’ll see a large Freeman stone marking William G. Freeman’s and his wife, Marianne Robinson’s graves nearby. Then, go back and face the mausoleum and walk several yards to the left. Pass a clump of trees with an elaborate monument with Crucifix. James M. Freeman and Anna Cecilia Flaherty Freeman’s stone is just to the left. The cemetery is larger than one would imagine. It is near the golf course. We didn’t have enough time to locate the grave of John Thomas Flaherty.

Understandably, EVERYONE in Red Lodge remembers February 27,1943 when 72 miners lost their lives in the Smith Mine. Sitting in the Montana Room of the Billings Pubic Library and reading Jeffrey Edward McNeish’s A Smith Mine Disaster Chronicle (2007) was a sobering experience.  My jolly, lovable, kind Grandpa was Manager of the Montana Coal and Iron Company at the time. He was going to California, so he assigned someone else to replace him and his brother, William, who was the Superintendent of the mine. Grandpa wrote that he wanted to close a part of the mine due to the scarcity of glass caps keeping methane from leaking into the mine. He offered to double shift the Foster Mine. The Federal Inspectors said he could not stop the mining during wartime.  Something ignited the methane and the mine blew. There are detailed records of the investigations. My explanation is hampered by ignorance of mining operations, I’m afraid. The company records show a concern for safety. The road sign near the mine tells of miners trapped and writing last messages. Very, very sad.

Tom Buller, Wendy Winslow’s cousin, lives in a perfect log cabin in a forest of aspens and cottonwood trees. He joined us at the Grizzly Grill in Roscoe, MT for their famous hamburgers. The restaurant is nestled in the aspen and cottonwood trees and approached by crossing a pretty little bridge over the running stream. Lovely site. Charles Kuralt considered the highway from Red Lodge to Yellowstone Park to be the most scenic in the USA. Our drive from Missoula to Billings was a glorious parade of snow-capped mountains, rolling hills, running streams, long winding rivers, and a funky, bushy tree that’s everywhere in this section of Montana.

Along the way we saw alternate groupings of mule deer and antelope. This, in addition to lots of cattle, horses and sheep.  When it warms up, there will be wildflowers including Mom’s favorite, Indian Paintbrush.

When we first approached Billings going east on I-90, it was confusing.  Where was it? How could one hide a city with a population of 102,00? We drove through West Billings and still saw no city. Finally, we see a huge rocky ridge backdrop and then the town itself. Mom’s high school home, at 1101 N. 30^th St. is “sheltered” by this looming ridge. It is also surrounded by medical buildings and a hospital complex. The house sits on the corner and is well maintained. The porch we saw in an old photo has been removed. It is almost in downtown, now. City directories in the library show Grandpa owned the house for many years. They must have kept the place while traveling to Red Lodge and Washoe in between? We walked there from our center city hotel, the Crowne Plaza.

Grandpa loved the Northern Hotel and entertained clients there. Our family stayed there in December, 1984 when I-90 was closed due to snow! The Northern remodel is temporarily halted by the recession.

We walked from the home to Mom’s high school, Lincoln High, noting the separate entrance for seniors! We copied Mom’s high school pictures for three of the Kyote Yearbooks. I think she skipped one grade in high school. She graduated in 1932. This entry lists: Carbon County High School 1,Camera Club 2, Secretary Latin Club, Honor Society,3,4; Chemistry Club 3, Activity Club, 3,4, Kyote Annual 4. This school was relocated and renamed “Billings High School’. The old school now houses  “Lincoln Center.”

Memories of Grandma and Grandpa Freeman-

During my childhood, we saw Grandpa more frequently as he would be in Spokane for business meetings. He always wore a hat, a white shirt and tie, a suit  (usually gray) and an overcoat. His huge shoes were black, more like sturdy boots than dress shoes. He had the beefy hands and stocky build of a Welshman although he was born a ways away in Wigan, England. His rosy nose was bulbous with visible veins. I remember him always approachable and always in a good mood. He’d come into our house in Spokane, take out his paper sack and spill candy bars onto the dining room table! We each took turns choosing our favorites:

Idaho Spud, Mountain Bar, U-Nos, Butterfingers, etc. Grandpa loved maple sugar candies and brought them and Aplets/Coplets as gifts.

He’d settle into a chair after dinner and sing songs to us. “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean “ and “I Miss My Swiss” were favorites. Sometimes he took the Great Northern train from Billings to Spokane.

Grandma was much smaller and shorter. She had naturally curly gray hair. I remember making cookies with her. She wore an apron and was so patient. Like my mother, she welcomed us into the kitchen even though everything took longer with our inexperienced help. Grandma had some kind of needlework; knitting or needlepoint. She was also even-tempered and approachable. She studied photography and was a lifelong learner. She looked like a “grandma” in the nicest, coziest sense of that term.