Showing posts with label Mark Twain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mark Twain. Show all posts

Sunday, July 21, 2019

Green Mountains, Music, Hospitals, and Chocolate


We’re back. From where? you ask. Vacationing in New England to see family for two weeks. Cyndi and Bill went with us, Cyndi driving the car with me in it and Bill driving the truck with his dad, Stewart, in it. We needed two vehicles to handle luggage for four, a rollator, oxygen compressor, nebulizer, etc. etc.  For fifteen hours we made a two-vehicle caravan going from Angier, North Carolina, to Fairfield, Connecticut, with a few stops to fuel up the vehicles and us. Do you know how tiring it is to travel that far even without doing the driving? Very!
My Sister Donna and Me

The first stop was to stay with my sister in Fairfield for a few days.  She and Stewart got to meet and we got to rest up. I drove Stewart all over creation showing him where I spent my teenage years. Our one "sightseeing" spot while there was St. Vincent’s Hospital in Bridgeport, CT. I knew Stewart was sick one morning when he refused coffee! He was listless all day at my sister’s, so we took him to E.R. where, of course, they elected to keep him overnight for a COPD flareup. He wasn’t happy to be admitted, but he was back to being himself the next morning, so they let him come home.



Bill, Donna, Stewart and Cyndi
 relaxing outside the motel in Barre



He was home in time to head further north, up to Vermont for two days for my cousin’s 50th anniversary celebration. While in Barre, which is next door to the state’s capital, Montpelier, we went to Bragg Farms where they make maple sugar. They showed us the process then we of course visited the gift shop to buy real Vermont maple syrup and other gifts. My favorite purchase is a bumper sticker that says: “Vermont - What happens here, stays here. But nothing ever really happens.”  Another one says: “Bumpah stickah for your cah.” They appeal to my sense of humor and to the Vermont blood still in me from being born and raised in that state.  

Then it was back to Connecticut to stay with Tammy and Curtis for a few days. Happily, my son Mike and his son, Monterey, spent the weekend there, too, so we had good quality time together. Tammy and Curtis held a mini music fest in their back yard complete with stage, mikes, amps, tables of food, lights, flowers, and music, music, music.


We did manage to get a little sightseeing in. In Hartford, we went to the Mark Twain house and got to see where and how he lived. His house is next door to the Harriet Beecher Stowe home. He moved there purposely, after selling his first book, so he could perhaps become as well-known as she was at the time. I bought a small book, The Wit and Wisdom of Mark Twain which makes for some really good reading.

Mark Twain House

Then the caravan headed south and back to Angier.

Although we went north in one day, we took two days to come back home, stopping in Hershey, PA to visit Chocolate World and have a tour of how chocolate is made. And, of course, the gift shop. We have so much candy around here, our house looks like we’re ready for Halloween trick or treaters!

I managed to break an anchor tooth for my denture the day before we left to come home which made for a very painful trip. That problem is now being remedied by a dentist.
My kids - Cyndi, Tammy, Mike
at the music fest

All in all, Stewart and I have needed this last week to rest up from our vacation. I finally have the suitcases unpacked and laundry done. That’s enough for one week, don’t you think? I’d rather sit and relish the memories of my family all together in one place for one small moment in time.








Quote of the Day: No man needs a vacation so much as the man who just had one. Elbert Hubbard

Second Quote of the Day: The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page. St. Augustine





Thursday, June 7, 2012

Mark Twain


I recently finished reading Mark Twain's book, Roughing It. This was a long book (419 pages) with precious little "white space." There's not even a space between paragraphs and the font seems no bigger than 8 point. The book I have was printed between 1871 and 1913 which could have something to do with the formatting style. Perhaps a more recent edition of the book would be easier on the eyes.  To be fair, there are three or four pictures scattered throughout the book which help break up some of the monotony of the small print and lots of it.

My first reaction was not unlike a grade schooler who sees a grown-up's novel for the first time--no pictures, just all words. It looked daunting.

However, I was hooked by Mark Twain's (Mr. Samuel Clemens, if you will) Prefatory (his words, not mine). This is how he starts his book:

"This book is merely a personal narrative, and not a pretentious history or a philosophical dissertation. It is a record of several years of variegated vagabondizing, and its object is...to help the resting reader while away an idle hour...." 

The book is a record of a trip Mark Twain took in the late 1800s from the "Missouri frontier" to Nevada and then on to San Francisco and Hawaii. He meant to be gone three months and ended up staying out west for six or seven years.

Reading the book, I could see the world through Mark Twain's eyes. He left St. Louis by steamboat.  It took him and his fellow travelers six days to get to St. Joseph, Missouri where they boarded the overland stage. Then, he says,

"We jumped into the stage, the driver cracked his whip, and we bowled away and left 'the States' behind us." 

He was off on an adventure and we go right along with him.  I never would have thought that to enter Kansas, we were leaving the United States behind. When, months later, he enters San Francisco, he has this to say.

"If it is winter, it will rain--and if it is summer, it won't rain, and you cannot help it...You would give anything to hear the old familiar thunder again and see the lightning strike somebody. And...in the summer, when you have suffered about four months of lustrous, pitiless sunshine, you are ready to go down on your knees and plead for rain--hail--snow--thunder and lightning--anything to break the monotony--you will take an earthquake, if you cannot do any better. And the chances are that you'll get it, too." 

He has a magnificent way with words! Just listen to this:

"In one place in the island of Hawaii, we saw a laced and ruffled cataract of limpid water leaping from a sheer precipice fifteen hundred feet high." 

That is pure linguistic beauty. I want to be able to write like that.

I want to thank my son for sending me this book and suggesting I read it. I would recommend it to anyone who enjoys a good story that is both a memoir and a travelogue with a few tall tales thrown in to liven things up a bit.

Quote of the week:
When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained.
Mark Twain