I've Been Missing in Action

I've been either busy with lots of overtime at work (60+ hrs/week) combined with a lot of "catching up" because I've missed a bunch of days due to being sick - or being totally "out of commission" being sick.

I did get out some these past couple weekends. I got to the Howell Living History Farm near my Mom's place and enjoyed a hayride. I posted some photos and videos in Flickr if you want to see them. Since my dad died, the Howell Farm has become a refuge - and a place to step back in time. When I enter the property - it is like stepping back 100 years - and time slows... and things ... feel relaxed and ... safe (no flying missiles - nobody blowing themselves up - no tweets - no inanity)

The sense of calmness is much needed.

Seeing a 1907 Case Steam powered tractor takes one back in time too! This one was bringing Santa Claus and his wife to the farmhouse.


After the farm visit, I went to another farm, Paxson Hill Farm, where I could visit the Peacocks...

I finally got around to sending out some Christmas cards this past week. Maybe I'm catching up after all?

The team of oxen carted wood used by the steam tractor.

Memorial Day 2017

My Dad served as a Captain in the US Army. He was never under enemy fire, something for which his family is very grateful.

I heard these words today. They resonate today, like they did on Veteran's Day, 1985.

"{W}hen a serviceman dies, it's a tear in the fabric, a break in the whole, and all we can do is remember.

It is, in a way, an odd thing to honor those who died in defense of our country, in defense of us, in wars far away. The imagination plays a trick. We see these soldiers in our mind as old and wise. We see them as something like the Founding Fathers, grave and gray haired. But most of them were boys when they died, and they gave up two lives -- the one they were living and the one they would have lived. When they died, they gave up their chance to be husbands and fathers and grandfathers. They gave up their chance to be revered old men. They gave up everything for our country, for us. And all we can do is remember.

And the living have a responsibility to remember the conditions that led to the wars in which our heroes died. Perhaps we can start by remembering this: that all of those who died for us and our country were, in one way or another, victims of a peace process that failed...

We're surrounded today by the dead of our wars. We owe them a debt we can never repay. All we can do is remember them and what they did and why they had to be brave for us...

In memory of those who gave the last full measure of devotion, may our efforts to achieve lasting peace gain strength...

God bless America." - Remembering those who paid for our freedom.

Saying Goodbye to Dad

On August 9th, around 2:30 AM, my father passed away in his sleep, comfortably and peacefully. The link is to my Dad's Obituary. I still find it very difficult to write or talk about this. I have so many memories of him that they swirl around in my head like a kaleidoscope. Everything I have, I owe to my father.

Here he is in Florida, holding up a nice size Snook. It took us a dozen fishing trips to catch one of these elusive fish. His smile says it all.

I've have been overwhelmed by the caring support of my friends and neighbors. I cannot begin to say how much I appreciate all of you. I received beautiful cards from Chicago Lady, my older brother's in-laws, my mom's niece that lives in Maine, Far Side, Soul Comfort, my dad's first cousin's wife, A Bench With a View, Alice Kay, and Lady Styx and her husband. So many texts and emails I can only hope to answer them all eventually; visits from neighbors, some bearing plates with food, and some marvelous flowers - including one from a client that sits on my office desk beside my keyboard.

On his last day with us, I wheeled my dad out to the porch where we watched the birds at the feeders. We had dozens of visits from Hummingbirds. At the other feeder were Cardinals, Woodpeckers, Goldfinches, Purple Finches, Tuffed Titmouse's, Sparrows, Blue Jays, Catbirds, Mockingbirds, Orioles, and even a Squirrel that the feeder spun off to the ground three times before he or she gave up. It was a calming time for both of us.

I still can't believe he is gone.

Holiday Scenes

A short video of the Garden Train at the Morris Aboretum.

A pretty barn near Peace Valley Nature Center

A decoration at the old office

Happy Birthday Dad!

Over the Thanksgiving Day holiday, my older brother and I were out for a walk on the Delaware Canal towpath - it was a very nice late autumn day. The sun shone brightly against the white bark of the Sycamores.

My brother and I got to talking about a Thanksgiving a couple years ago, when my father was very ill and spent the holiday in the hospital, coming home only to have dinner with us on Thanksgiving day. We added up all the "life-threatening" moments he has had in the past few years - since his quintuple bypass surgery - and the tally stood at once every other year - for well over a decade.

This year, Dad celebrated his 80-th birthday with a trip to the Kidney Doctor, where he was told to go on a very low potassium diet. He being diabetic, he can actually eat very little as it is - and now it is even less. But...

On a dreary day, he and my mom were surprised by their Church and they had a nice celebration with folks that care about him (and good folks that they care about in return). He got some funny cards, some small gifts and a huge cake! Mom and I looked the other way while he enjoyed a small bit topped with creamy, sugary icing.

Happy Birthday Dad! Keep plugging away!

Barnaget Lighthouse - Sunset Cruise

I know I've not posted anything lately. I don't know where my blogging mojo went. Recently, I went on a sunset cruise off Barnegat Light, Long Beach Island, on the "Miss Barnegat Light." I took lots of photos - it was a beautiful evening. The water was warm(ish) at 73F and the breeze kept things cool.

The boat left from the "Viking Fishing Village."

Barnegat Lighthouse, was built by George Meade, a Civil War General for the north. Barnegat Light was commissioned on January 1, 1859.

Later, all the little kids (and me) would get to drive the boat!

But first we motored out of the bay, past the lighthouse.

The other "aid to navigation," the town water tower, probably doesn't aid navigation nearly as much as the lighthouse!

A cooling breeze helped the "blow boat" stay abreast of us.

Ah... relaxation in a New York minute.

Taking the turn into the inlet to head out into the ocean.

We saw a pod of Porpoise and a big school of bait fish being chased by ... something in the deep. I had "Charlie-Problems" and couldn't get a good shot of the porpoise. I have 6 photos of the empty sea where these swimming mammals ... eluded me. The sunset wasn't much to get excited about - but...

...recently, they re-lit the old lighthouse, and seeing the light was a thrill!

Mother's Day and Graduations

Last weekend, I went to upstate (Rochester) NY to attend my nephew's graduation. It is a 7 hour drive one-way, so the ride is rather tiring. I took my parents up. My oldest nephew graduated on Sunday morning - the ceremony was held in the minor league ice hockey team's building downtown.

I never actually saw the college campus (Nazareth University). The younger nephew graduates this upcoming Saturday (Niagara College near Buffalo) but his is "limited attendance" (only four tickets), so we just celebrated his "while we were there" and of course we celebrated Mother's Day too! It was a party-harty weekend!

The weather was sunny - actually it was hot and sticky and in the 90s. Surprising for Rochester at this time of year (their daffodils just bloomed last week!) I would visit them more often - but 14 hours of driving for a weekend doesn't work out so well!

The stage was within easy view.

My nephew was not quite lost in the crowd. I see him in there!


The big moment - two hours into the ceremony.

Outside in the nice sunshine with a gentle cooling breeze, the nephews are besieged with photo op requests.

Let's cram twenty people into the dinning room!

The cake was a work of art - I told my mom, the best thing about all this - is seeing my nephews smiling and happy. She replied, "That might be the best (grand)mother's day gift a mom could ever get.

A Trip to Cuba

Today is a wintry, gloomy day here in the Philadelphia, PA suburbs. It snow flurried briefly this morning - leaving some powdery slippery spots here and there - we've about an inch on the ground (and piles in the parking lots) that is rock solid - it rained briefly and then the temperature plummeted into the teens. I'll be glad to see spring (I almost always am!). I hate the gloom more than the muddy snow mess.

I've not posted anything lately - I've been very busy with moving things from our office of 15 years to my house - I've thrown away tons of dated paper (and paperwork) - and emptied, in order to move them, twenty 4-drawer file cabinets. I've about 3 more cabinets to go. It's sort of like seeing my past life go by ... years of "work efforts" being tossed or shredded - computer-related "stuff" gets obsolete so very quickly - some days I feel obsolete too!

Recently, I logged into Ancestry.com and saw a "shaking leaf" attached to my paternal g-grand-father. Curious, I went to see what it was all about and was surprised to find a record of him and his wife traveling on the SS Northland from Havana, Cuba to Key West, Florida, arriving back in the USA on February 24, 1928.

Harry Davis Mousley was born on July 3, 1883 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and died at the age of 47 on November 9, 1930. He (hopefully) enjoyed his trip to Cuba that he took about two years before he died.

My dad has no direct recollections of his grandparents - or their journeys - as they were both dead before he was born.

The Peninsular and Occidental steamship line was a part of Henry Flagler's Florida East Coast Railroad. It leased the SS Northland from the Eastern Steamship Company for the winter travel/tourist season. The ship on the far right is the Northland.

In a strange coincidence, the same day I found this record in Ancestry, my parents called and informed me they were going to the Florida Keys for three weeks this month, and will be in Key West on February 24!

Maybe my dad will sense the ghost of his paternal grandparents there? I have stood at the cruise ship dock in Key West - and seen the remains of the Florida East Coast Railroad in the Florida Keys - many of the railroad bridges are now fishing piers and/or part of a 132 mile long walking trail, of which I have walked about half. Did my g-grandparents ride the the long-gone train (it died in 1934 when wiped out by a hurricane)? I can only wonder.

Two Little Girls Tired of Bread...

Far Side of Fifty spotted an old newspaper article in my mother's old photo display. The story tells of one of my mother's earliest childhood memories. The article is dated March 3, 1941.

Two Little Girls Tired of Bread After Five-Hour Walk With Loaf

There was no place like home for two little girls in Roxbury [a Boston, Massachusetts suburb] last night.

Walking may be enjoyable and bread may be good to eat, but 5-year-old Evelyn Belyea of 8 Kensington st., and her little pal, Lois Bush [my mother], 3, who lives next door, have learned the sad lesson that there can be too much of two good things.

When her mother sent her for a loaf of bread at 11:30 a.m., yesterday, Evelyn took her fox terrier, "Trixie" and called for Lois. After buying the bread, the youngsters decided that a walk would be "just the thing."

Their little legs carried the kiddies more than two miles, to Forest Hills, before protesting. The the two tired girls started the dreary trek homeward. Long before patrolman Daniel J. Crowe of the Jamaica Plain station sighted them at Egleston sq., about 4:30 p.m., and recognized them as "the missing kids," they had tired of their day-long diet of bread and felt the "prodigal's" proverbial yearning for fatted calf.

I wonder what's become of my mother's friend?

Christmas is Coming

Barely finished with Thanksgiving, I find myself getting Christmas Cards and even boxes in the mail. Before I moved on from Thanksgiving, I wanted to share a photo of my Uncle Jim and Aunt Mary. I found one at my parent's house. In the guest bedroom, my mom keeps a display of family photos that I have found in a variety of old boxes in the attic and other places.

My Uncle Jim and Aunt Mary are in the center. James Joseph Dunn Jr. was a Master Sargent in the Army and was stationed in Germany immediately after WWII. He looks so impossibly young in this photo. Of course, I never saw him as a "young man"!

In the week that follows Thanksgiving, I place grave blankets on my Grandparent's grave - It is my way of telling them I am thankful for all the love and blessings they gave me while they were "with us." They have not been forgotten - and with the onset of their favorite time of the year, They are specially remembered.

My mother's father loved Fruitcake from Collin Street Bakery of Texas - and a can of it was ordered for the family to share on Christmas Day.

My dad's mom loved to sign her gifts "From Santa" and spent the entire year before Christmas looking (and listening) for the perfect gift idea. She always found something that made her grandchild jump up and down in glee.

The recent loss of my dad's father is becoming less recent - but the later years on the gravestone remind me that my dad's father's last Christmas with us was no different - my older brother and I shared a few hours with him in his comfortable bedroom on Christmas Day. As confused as he was with many things, he knew it was Christmas - and that "Kid" (as he called his wife) was greatly missed...and especially so on that day.

And now, I will start writing and send my own Christmas Cards.

Thanksgiving Weekend

This Thanksgiving, I went down to the seashore with my parents. I always enjoy the "winter beach" and the lack of crowds during the off-season. We left just before a Nor'easter storm left 4 or 5 inches of snow in my neighborhood and I only saw only some cold wet rain as the snow was gone by the time I returned home.

I did some overdue maintenance work on a garden shed, Superstorm Sandy had blown off some roof shingles and I set about cleaning out the shed and mending the roof. After getting the shed in order, I went down to the beach to listen to the surf. I took a half dozen photos, and I like how the seagull in the foreground might look like he made some footprints.

About a month ago, I was rooting through some old boxes with stuff my Grandfather left behind, and in with the "debris" of a long life (i.e., "trash") I found a family heirloom.

A silver plated carving set. I was immediately transported back 40-45 years in time to a Thanksgiving Dinner at my grandparents, parents, brothers, and my Uncle Jim, Aunt Mary, and their son Paddy. My grandmother had spent the day setting the big table in her dinning room, and now we all sat down to give thanks and to eat a feast fit for kings. My Uncle Jim, in his booming voice filled with laughter, saying, "Well, Harry! Bring on the bird!!"

My grandfather would then bring the huge (usually a 25 pound plus) turkey from the kitchen through the swinging door to the end of the long table. He would then make a few swipes of the carving knife on the sharpener (it really didn't need it, as my grandfather had fully sharpened it an hour or two beforehand) and set about carving white meat for those that wanted white meat and dark meat for those that wanted dark meat, and always gave me and my younger brother a drumstick apiece too.

This Thanksgiving, my parents and I ate a much smaller turkey carved with the carving set my great-grandfather first used in the 1920's. You might notice someone got a drumstick.

We talked about the many delicious meals we shared with my Uncle Jim, Aunt Mary and Paddy, and how much we always enjoyed being with them. It was hard to believe it has been over 30 years now since we last ate with him.

And as fate would have it, hungry for something warm after a cold day spent outside, we ran short of mashed potatoes, which reminded us of the time my grandmother spent hours peeling and boiling potatoes and mashed them by hand only to find the heaping bowl full only went 2/3ds of the way around the table! She was visibly mortified - and no amount of telling her, "there was more than ample food to make up for it," would make her less embarrassed. Through the hub-bub, my cousin Paddy* pipes up, "Boy these mashed potatoes sure are good!" It turns out that he had innocently taken half the bowl, so Aunt Mary rescued some of them and we all had some mashed potatoes after all!

*Cousin Paddy, James J. Dunn the III had Down's Syndrome and was a big, gruff, but wonderfully big-hearted soul. He spent many hours setting up his huge HO train set and tracks so that his cousins (my brothers and I) would be able to play with them when we came to visit him.

The Irish Photos

The photos were taken a few years ago on film - so the colors are a little off - but I've tried to clean them up a bit.

I didn't expect to see as many horses, ponies, and donkeys that I did, but they were everywhere there were animals. Cows and sheep far out number even people in Ireland I think.

The license plate says Michigan. Having the dog sit in your lap or on the donkey during the ride was an "extra charge." Someone paid it. :)

This is a convent - Kylemore Abbey & Victorian Walled Garden. The weather with the looming fog made it gleam.

Another shot of the abbey.

This was a "Gentlemen's Horse Farm, Carrigglas Manor. I remember having lunch there but not much more. I understand it is now a ruin.

This was spotted in Carrigglas Manor. My Grandfather made thousands of these - I don't know if this one was one of his though.

The Cliffs of Moher. Simply breath-taking.

More cliffs rising from the sea.

Given my fear of heights, this is as close to the edge as I got!!

No trip to Ireland is complete without a kiss. They lean you over backwards and slide you out over the abyss on your back and you lean upward to kiss the bottom of the Barney Stone. It's a good 85-90 foot drop there...

Back on the houseboat - on the River Shannon - there are "street signs" out on the river so it is hard to get lost!

Everywhere along the river are workingmen and fishing persons with their helper dogs of course!

A considerable climb up from the water - the conic towers are - forgive the pun, iconic. This is Glendalough Monastery in COunty Wicklow.

To get around the rapids and shallows on the River Shannon - usually between the many lakes, you go through a "canal lock". Here is one near Carrick on Shannon.

Waiting near one of the many locks was this family of Swans. There were to be many such families along the route.

Here I am in the yellow rain jacket bringing the boat out of a lock.

A view down into a lock, they crammed as many boats as they could into the lock when things were busy. All the boats had plenty of inflated "boat bumpers" on them. A canal further north was "self serve" and far less busy.

A self serve lock. One inserted a "fare card" into the board and the gates would swing shut and the lock fill or empty depending on which way you were going.

The many cows along the river and streams like to stand out in the water and let the houseboat wake wash over their knees - they were totally un-phased by boat wake.

The monastery of Clonmacnoise (Cluain Mhic Nóis in Irish, meaning "Meadow of the Sons of Nós") is situated in County Offaly, Ireland on the River Shannon south of Athlone.

Clonmacnoise was founded in 546 by St. Ciarán, a young man from Rathcroghan, County Roscommon. Until the 9th century it had close associations with the kings of Connacht. The strategic location of the monastery helped it become a major center of religion, learning, craftsmanship, and trade by the 9th century and it was the most famous in Ireland, visited by scholars from all over Europe. Yes, you read the dates correctly!

The houseboat is docked on a wharf in the River Shannon just below this hill. Another climb up a hill brings you into the "land that time forgot." This is one spooky place!

Here you can see a houseboat on the river approaching the Clonmacnoise dock.

Another houseboat. We shared several days company and a couple trips to local pubs for sing-a-longs. The lady with the camera was very friendly and from Limerick.

The Bed and Breakfast I stayed at both before and after my house-boating cruise.

Another family of swans closes this entry. :)