Meredith Kendall's Blog, page 53
December 24, 2013
the drive
started in Maine with freezing rain and speed limit of 45 on the turnpike.
You could skate on the driveway, paved with a good half inch of ice. When I brought my car out of the garage to pack it with luggage and Christmas presents, rain hit it and froze, making a big car Popsicle. I drove slowly along the street and slammed on the brakes to see. The 4-wheel drive kicked in and I didn't skid. I hit the turnpike.
Blasting heat kept ice from forming on the windshield. Very few cars on the road. I kept it to 45 and watched other numbers: the outside temperature, nicely displayed on the dash, and my expected time of arrival (ETA) on the guided personal system (GPS). It was 29 degrees and my ETA 4 1/2 hours.
An hour later, an hour south, the temp rose to 32 and I put the pedal to the metal; 65 mph. It started to rain harder. There were more cars on the road. I stopped for coffee. Stopped at a gift store in New Hampshire.
Around Boston the roads were full and we went 65-70 bumper to bumper in pouring rain. I could see the car in front of me, and the next car, but not much else. It was raining hard and cars threw up sheets of water. There were lots of trucks: behemoths of metal that could crush a car like a slap on a gnat.
Sometimes the road would open up a little and someone would sail past me, going 80 or 90. Sometimes cars darted in and around others like a cat on stairs. Sometimes it rained a little less.
The temp rose to 48.
5 1/2 hours of freezing rain, rain, traffic: miles and miles; past Worcester, Boston, and Hartford; my GPS got me to my destination: my aunt's house in Connecticut. I made it.
My cousins arrived from New York. We nibbled on snacks, admired my aunt's Christmas tree, opened presents, and went out for Thai and sushi. We had avocado and cucumber sushi, appetizers and curry.
Then we hit the road for New York City, my cousins and I, leaving my car in my aunt's driveway.
It was dark and drizzly. A passenger, I gazed at Christmas lights as we sped past big tidy houses. It took us half an hour to creep past an accident. We got onto a parkway: no trucks! We told stories and laughed all the way into the city, 2 hours.
Back home 100,000 are without power from the ice storm. The weather was supposed to turn warm and melt all the ice, but instead the freezing rain continued and it got colder. Now my town in coated in a thick layer of ice. Trees are bent and branches hang low, weighted and sorrowful. Branches crack, break, and drop; trees tip over from the weight. They smash and crash on cars and houses. When they land on power lines they darken neighborhoods. People are cold, lighting candles, trying to keep holiday food from spoiling.
I'm in New York City. I can see hundreds of apartment windows and blue sky above. We're in a nice neighborhood, I saw that last night as we circled the block several times in search of a parking spot. There are shops and restaurants down the block. We're going to stroll down there after breakfast.
It's Christmas Eve day and I'm in New York City with my cousins.
You could skate on the driveway, paved with a good half inch of ice. When I brought my car out of the garage to pack it with luggage and Christmas presents, rain hit it and froze, making a big car Popsicle. I drove slowly along the street and slammed on the brakes to see. The 4-wheel drive kicked in and I didn't skid. I hit the turnpike.
Blasting heat kept ice from forming on the windshield. Very few cars on the road. I kept it to 45 and watched other numbers: the outside temperature, nicely displayed on the dash, and my expected time of arrival (ETA) on the guided personal system (GPS). It was 29 degrees and my ETA 4 1/2 hours.
An hour later, an hour south, the temp rose to 32 and I put the pedal to the metal; 65 mph. It started to rain harder. There were more cars on the road. I stopped for coffee. Stopped at a gift store in New Hampshire.
Around Boston the roads were full and we went 65-70 bumper to bumper in pouring rain. I could see the car in front of me, and the next car, but not much else. It was raining hard and cars threw up sheets of water. There were lots of trucks: behemoths of metal that could crush a car like a slap on a gnat.
Sometimes the road would open up a little and someone would sail past me, going 80 or 90. Sometimes cars darted in and around others like a cat on stairs. Sometimes it rained a little less.
The temp rose to 48.
5 1/2 hours of freezing rain, rain, traffic: miles and miles; past Worcester, Boston, and Hartford; my GPS got me to my destination: my aunt's house in Connecticut. I made it.
My cousins arrived from New York. We nibbled on snacks, admired my aunt's Christmas tree, opened presents, and went out for Thai and sushi. We had avocado and cucumber sushi, appetizers and curry.
Then we hit the road for New York City, my cousins and I, leaving my car in my aunt's driveway.
It was dark and drizzly. A passenger, I gazed at Christmas lights as we sped past big tidy houses. It took us half an hour to creep past an accident. We got onto a parkway: no trucks! We told stories and laughed all the way into the city, 2 hours.
Back home 100,000 are without power from the ice storm. The weather was supposed to turn warm and melt all the ice, but instead the freezing rain continued and it got colder. Now my town in coated in a thick layer of ice. Trees are bent and branches hang low, weighted and sorrowful. Branches crack, break, and drop; trees tip over from the weight. They smash and crash on cars and houses. When they land on power lines they darken neighborhoods. People are cold, lighting candles, trying to keep holiday food from spoiling.
I'm in New York City. I can see hundreds of apartment windows and blue sky above. We're in a nice neighborhood, I saw that last night as we circled the block several times in search of a parking spot. There are shops and restaurants down the block. We're going to stroll down there after breakfast.
It's Christmas Eve day and I'm in New York City with my cousins.
December 21, 2013
December 18, 2013
sparkles and angels
T's aura was layers of white sparkly linen or cloud. Layers and layers.
Beneath all the layers was a steady gold light.
There were angels all around.
Beneath all the layers was a steady gold light.
There were angels all around.
December 5, 2013
Florida vacation
It seemed like a good idea.
It was, at first. I explored. It was easy to get around, and I got around in a new black VW Jetta.
Sun was my plan. Hot sun on a beach with a stack of murder mysteries. A little more summer.
So it didn't turn out like that. It was 2 days of sun with cold breezes, temps in high 60s and 2 days of overcast with temps in mid 70s.
I walked on the beach for an hour every morning. I explored. Went to bird and dolphin sanctuaries. Those are places for wounded birds and dolphins. Went out to eat once daily: Mexican mostly. Italian once. Snacks of yoghurt and grapefruit. Drank hotel room coffee: bland but effective.
Beaches were good, despite clouds and fog. Inland exploration was sunnier but frightening. Found gorgeous botanical park and place of old timey houses with people dressed in old timey clothes. But the alligator warning signs were off-putting. Kept encountering these signs. Loved the flowers, plants, old buildings, old machinery, old lifestyle. But those gator signs. I kept thinking the gator would be right beside the sign. Shocking realization that they could be anywhere. Heightened alligator alert. That was exhausting. Perhaps better at the beach, despite fog.
For the first time in 6 years I didn't check and respond to my work emails daily. That's probably good.
The ocean was right outside my balcony door, palm trees too: also good. Taking a vacation: experts say that is good.
So I did it. I took a vacation. Day 1: awesome. 2: OK. 3: maybe repeat #1? 4: really ready to go home.
I learned: I like parks and museums. I like nature, soul, culture, people, enlightenment, sun, and music. I don't like to feel like my life is at risk from alligators. I learned that it is good to get away, change it up, and do scary stuff. I like to drive.
Will I go back? Maybe somewhere. I like high dry plateaus, sun, people, Reiki, ocean.
It was, at first. I explored. It was easy to get around, and I got around in a new black VW Jetta.
Sun was my plan. Hot sun on a beach with a stack of murder mysteries. A little more summer.
So it didn't turn out like that. It was 2 days of sun with cold breezes, temps in high 60s and 2 days of overcast with temps in mid 70s.
I walked on the beach for an hour every morning. I explored. Went to bird and dolphin sanctuaries. Those are places for wounded birds and dolphins. Went out to eat once daily: Mexican mostly. Italian once. Snacks of yoghurt and grapefruit. Drank hotel room coffee: bland but effective.
Beaches were good, despite clouds and fog. Inland exploration was sunnier but frightening. Found gorgeous botanical park and place of old timey houses with people dressed in old timey clothes. But the alligator warning signs were off-putting. Kept encountering these signs. Loved the flowers, plants, old buildings, old machinery, old lifestyle. But those gator signs. I kept thinking the gator would be right beside the sign. Shocking realization that they could be anywhere. Heightened alligator alert. That was exhausting. Perhaps better at the beach, despite fog.
For the first time in 6 years I didn't check and respond to my work emails daily. That's probably good.
The ocean was right outside my balcony door, palm trees too: also good. Taking a vacation: experts say that is good.
So I did it. I took a vacation. Day 1: awesome. 2: OK. 3: maybe repeat #1? 4: really ready to go home.
I learned: I like parks and museums. I like nature, soul, culture, people, enlightenment, sun, and music. I don't like to feel like my life is at risk from alligators. I learned that it is good to get away, change it up, and do scary stuff. I like to drive.
Will I go back? Maybe somewhere. I like high dry plateaus, sun, people, Reiki, ocean.
love my job
- feel so lucky. Am having a wonderful semester with best kind of students. They are motivated, committed to learning, compassionate, thoughtful, supportive of each other, inquisitive, focused, balanced, articulate, and kind.
- feel so lucky. Have had the best jobs: mom, nurse, and teacher.
- feel so lucky.
- feel so lucky. Have had the best jobs: mom, nurse, and teacher.
- feel so lucky.
Nelson Mandela
Goodbye, brilliant beautiful spirit.
December 3, 2013
iguana
Having breakfast in a tiki hut, under a giant resin iguana
December 2, 2013
Italian
Having lunch at an Italian restaurant in Florida. Everyone is speaking Italian. No English; I hear no English.
I had eggplant parmesan, which was delish, of course, but why do they always bread and deep fry? It's so good grilled or sauteed. Eggplant is good, dense and chewy.
The salad was so so. Iceberg lettuce and tired tomatoes. Prices great, service terrible.
Tiramisu best ever. Italy in Florida.
I had eggplant parmesan, which was delish, of course, but why do they always bread and deep fry? It's so good grilled or sauteed. Eggplant is good, dense and chewy.
The salad was so so. Iceberg lettuce and tired tomatoes. Prices great, service terrible.
Tiramisu best ever. Italy in Florida.
BBC
Am at breakfast. Little local place.Owners are Brits.
The BBC is here, doing a travel story.
The BBC is here, doing a travel story.
November 30, 2013
Usually
so planned, plotted, and parsed I find my holiday to be serendipitous, impulsive, and ephemeral.
Oh, I might need to buy bottled water tomorrow. That is the one big plan. Smaller plan: read one book every day. Otherwise...
So far south is better than north. All the southern adventures have been satisfying; the northern ones not. Example: this morning I went north to the Aquarium. Bought a ticket. Took a bus to the dolphin thing, but the dolphin thing was a movie exhibit. Some kid movie, never heard of it and why would I, I don't watch movies. Did get a nice trolley ride across the harbor into Clearwater and an interesting ramble from the driver. So the "Church" of Scientology owns over 69% of Clearwater. Lots of tidy buildings.
Didn't that "Church" start as a joke? As a way to make money? An irony? Yeah, pretty sure it did. Well, that's America for you.
No dolphins at the end of the tour, just props from the movie of which I had not heard. 5 min later I'm back on the trolley, back to the Aquarium. Once there I saw a few manta rays and 3 injured dolphins. 5 min later I'm headed back south.
Stopped at the other Mexican restaurant. Yesterday was all cheesy tomato soup bean mush at a fancy place. Professional wait-staff and blasting Mex music. Today was wild teens and make it right there in front of you burritos, etc. I bought a big bag of dried chipotle peppers to bring home, $2.99. Had a delish tofu burrito.
Stopped at a nature reserve. It was so quiet. I walked on a boardwalk. Geckos scurried. It was swampy.
Went to a beach and hung there all afternoon. Watched pelicans soar, plop, gather, take off, and repeat. Do they sleep? Dolphins don't, according to a woman at the Aquarium this morning. She has a bachelor's degree in marine biology, and dolphins don't sleep. They would die if they slept; they have to breathe. They have 2 sides to their brains (don't we all?) and switch back and forth (don't we all?).
Anyway. That beach was relatively deserted.
The north beach is wall to wall people. Chairs, tents, and umbrellas are neatly arranged. You may rent a space and sit elbow to elbow with your new best temporary friends. There are boat rides, parasailing, drinks, and snacks.
Tomorrow I'm going south. The teen Mex place, the bird sanctuary, and the deserted beach.
I will be spontaneous, I will explore, I will enjoy wild nature.
Oh, I might need to buy bottled water tomorrow. That is the one big plan. Smaller plan: read one book every day. Otherwise...
So far south is better than north. All the southern adventures have been satisfying; the northern ones not. Example: this morning I went north to the Aquarium. Bought a ticket. Took a bus to the dolphin thing, but the dolphin thing was a movie exhibit. Some kid movie, never heard of it and why would I, I don't watch movies. Did get a nice trolley ride across the harbor into Clearwater and an interesting ramble from the driver. So the "Church" of Scientology owns over 69% of Clearwater. Lots of tidy buildings.
Didn't that "Church" start as a joke? As a way to make money? An irony? Yeah, pretty sure it did. Well, that's America for you.
No dolphins at the end of the tour, just props from the movie of which I had not heard. 5 min later I'm back on the trolley, back to the Aquarium. Once there I saw a few manta rays and 3 injured dolphins. 5 min later I'm headed back south.
Stopped at the other Mexican restaurant. Yesterday was all cheesy tomato soup bean mush at a fancy place. Professional wait-staff and blasting Mex music. Today was wild teens and make it right there in front of you burritos, etc. I bought a big bag of dried chipotle peppers to bring home, $2.99. Had a delish tofu burrito.
Stopped at a nature reserve. It was so quiet. I walked on a boardwalk. Geckos scurried. It was swampy.
Went to a beach and hung there all afternoon. Watched pelicans soar, plop, gather, take off, and repeat. Do they sleep? Dolphins don't, according to a woman at the Aquarium this morning. She has a bachelor's degree in marine biology, and dolphins don't sleep. They would die if they slept; they have to breathe. They have 2 sides to their brains (don't we all?) and switch back and forth (don't we all?).
Anyway. That beach was relatively deserted.
The north beach is wall to wall people. Chairs, tents, and umbrellas are neatly arranged. You may rent a space and sit elbow to elbow with your new best temporary friends. There are boat rides, parasailing, drinks, and snacks.
Tomorrow I'm going south. The teen Mex place, the bird sanctuary, and the deserted beach.
I will be spontaneous, I will explore, I will enjoy wild nature.
