Before joining the tour, I am concerned as to my inability to walk any distance without serious respiratory stress. On our previous outing, breathing became painful. Kinda scary ..... but I'm here and I don't want to miss anything. Buck up, it's time to find the bus.
Right off the bat, we are informed that "we'll walk to the church". I'm already lagging behind and the last I heard "oh, it's only a little ways". [ Foreign language speak .... a long walk, which is a reoccurring theme]. Find a cab and drive through town on the way to Alexander Nevsky Cathedral [Russian Orthodox]. Arriving before the walkers, watched the local women enter for morning Mass. A quaint structure adorned with a mosaic of Nevsky on an outside wall. Inside the icons against the dark wood of the altar and beams. This place makes one feel small with a need for reverence. So with head bowed, the thought,"God, if you are listening, your healing hand would be appreciated"; if that is too Presbyterian," forgive me my transgressions" and it's only Thursday.
To the bus .... and what a bus.... WOW, it is gargantuan, and comfy. AND we're off.... no, not the wizard but the Summer Palace of Nicholas II [the last tsar of Russia] called Livadia. This amazing white structure was built in 1911. After the murders of the Royal family, it fell into disrepair until Churchill requested it's use in 1945 [following WWII] to be the site for the gathering of Roosevelt, Stalin and himself to divide up the post war European world : The Crimean Conference. It is a magnificent example of Italian Renaissance. Actually I opted to stay on the bus with T.C. due to the "little bit of a walk"[45 minutes]. Funny thing was due to the heat and the "length" of the hike, we were joined at/in the bus by half the contingent unwilling to traverse the "mileage". So, a good time was had by all.
The hardy return with glowing reports; I got on the Internet later. There was a winery stop and Ed found several that he purchased.
Our driver was adept at twisty curvy roads with our unwieldy vehicle. We lumbered through lanes and past markers. One pointed toward the house Stalin resided during that Conference. As luncheon was nearing, we were taken to The Swallows Nest Castle.It is considered the symbol of Yalta. It looked like a cross between a German Fortress and Disney's Fantasy Castle only small and perched on a precipice. I'm not sure what lunch was besides mixed greens salad, uncertain meat entree and fruit compote .... good bread. Then time for some shopping from local vendors while waiting for our van transport to the bus. The drive toward Yalta took us up and near St. Peter's Peak, 3,000'. There were alot of metamorphic caps, outcrops and dykes. Must look this up at home.
Drove by farmer's markets, through neighborhood streets and finally to our dock. "Strolling" through the Customs House found a Duty Free Area. the "Eggs", metal soldiers and the hat. It looked Russian Army with metals, perfect for Ian [son]. Why didn't I just get it ... WHY! I never saw it again ... dumb! AND Ed didn't purchase the metal soldiers. O.K., let's go .... would you believe I was the last person on the ship ... no, joke. Security even call my Butler to inform him I was aboard. Well, needless to say, he really was standing with my door open and a drink in his hand. As I collapsed into the chair I was grateful, yet again, for Raphael.
15 minutes later we were leaving. Called Ed to come over and watch our departure. Raphael arrived with 2 trays of "bites", extra ice and more tonic. So, we sat on the balcony and watched the pilot boats guide us out of that tiny harbor. By the way, the reason for the jetty .... the Royal family was caught in bad weather and the storm kept them at sea unable to land until the next day. Apparently that was one time too many. The jetty was created .
Dinner at 8:00 ..... Discovery .... bet there will be a really good bottle of wine. So, Yalta, next Sevastopol tomorrow. I'm pooped, later........
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Cruising to the Crimea
Calm seas and blue skies gave way to a very lazy day. Pampering with manicure and pedicure followed time in the computer center regaling my adventures to friends. Must not miss Tea at 3:30 in the Looking Glass with it's panoramic view. Our harpist is consummate. She looks to be 12 years old; but of course, that would be absurd. All the same, the more I age, the younger everyone else appears.
Ed chose a lecture on the Crimea for the afternoon. Having had such a harried day, I returned to my stateroom to recuperate until dinner at eight. As Wednesday turned into Thursday, the Azamara Quest slipped toward the Ukrainian coast. On my balcony,having caught up with sleep, the Crimean Peninsula loomed up in the early grayness as dawn began to break. The crimson poked and pushed it's way through a cloud bank until the radiating shafts seemed to be stretching towards me. Then I realized the dark shadowy things scattered about on the surface were wooden rowboats of fishermen. A single person per boat, and they had rowed, at least a half mile or more, out to fish with a rod and reel. I am enchanted!
Some hour later, we arrive at a jetty. So how does one park this ship? Well, it was something to behold. I am in awe! Two pilot boats were waiting. It was rather like parallel parking. As our Captain swung the stern inward, I actually doubted if we would squeeze past the jetty. THEN, he backed us inside ..... how lovely was that!! The pilot boats sat and watched our artful Captain. BRAVO!! It was as easy as backing a VW Beetle into an extra large parking spot..... but what do I know.
Right on time, Raphael [Butler] arrives with breakfast and welcome to Yalta. Must hurry to meet our group. We are touring today. Catch you later.
Ed chose a lecture on the Crimea for the afternoon. Having had such a harried day, I returned to my stateroom to recuperate until dinner at eight. As Wednesday turned into Thursday, the Azamara Quest slipped toward the Ukrainian coast. On my balcony,having caught up with sleep, the Crimean Peninsula loomed up in the early grayness as dawn began to break. The crimson poked and pushed it's way through a cloud bank until the radiating shafts seemed to be stretching towards me. Then I realized the dark shadowy things scattered about on the surface were wooden rowboats of fishermen. A single person per boat, and they had rowed, at least a half mile or more, out to fish with a rod and reel. I am enchanted!
Some hour later, we arrive at a jetty. So how does one park this ship? Well, it was something to behold. I am in awe! Two pilot boats were waiting. It was rather like parallel parking. As our Captain swung the stern inward, I actually doubted if we would squeeze past the jetty. THEN, he backed us inside ..... how lovely was that!! The pilot boats sat and watched our artful Captain. BRAVO!! It was as easy as backing a VW Beetle into an extra large parking spot..... but what do I know.
Right on time, Raphael [Butler] arrives with breakfast and welcome to Yalta. Must hurry to meet our group. We are touring today. Catch you later.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Istanbul ... Day 2
Early morning boats running every which way. Fishermen with nets line up their crafts. All this just over the rail of my balcony as I pour that first cup of tea. Over my shoulder in the main channel, five Naval Ships course north east towards the Black Sea ... could be Russian. Yes sir, I'm really here; holy cow!!
First on the agenda is The Palace: beautiful gardens, the stony guard on his pedestal, shoe covers and then the steps and stairways and crystal [Waterford and Polish]. Even the balustrades; such opulence, no wonder there was a revolt. After all the walking in circles, the boat ride up and around the Bosporus gave way to many naps. Lunch! Now off to the Bazaar; however, Ed, Richard [Ed's uncle] and I elected to get off the tour bus at the Blue Mosque. We're on our own now! If you look moderately confused, "guides" flock to you. After some negotiating, we were led inside [the walls are blue mosaic tile] and given the whole story. Oh, you know, this was a true mosque to replace the use of Haige Sophia which is a basilica and doesn't face east exactly. As we walked out, our guide had insisted we visit his carpet show room. There is something about NO and NO THANK YOU that fuels a sellers fire.
Cotton on cotton, silk on cotton, silk on silk, they were all there in their rich colors.... Prayer rugs up to 12'x10'.... every shade, every design. For a moment I was fearful they had hooked Ed; but we escaped to run headlong into a jewelry shop of the most exquisite items. The masses of small unpolished rubies on multiple long strands of liquid gold .... ummmmmm .... pure elegance. Shake it off, dig in, must get back up that hill and over to see Sophia.
Haige Sophia, a basilica built for Christian worship until the Muslims arrived. They turned it into a mosque until The Blue Mosque was built. For me, it still held that ambiance that is so quieting. The craftsmanship and artistry is amazing considering it was built in the 3rd or 4th century. Our art hasn't come all that far when one really considers everything. Wonder what the walls would tell. Time to head for the ship ... TAXI!
Richard and I piled into the back seat. Ed, being over 6' was left to fold himself into the front. The first indication of creativity, the idiot crossed over behind the electric trolley and we proceeded to have the wildest ride without touching the horn. We maneuvered through centimeters width of air space at breakneck speeds then slam on the brakes. We nearly had an old man and his wooden push cart laden with tea and pastries as a hood ornament. I must note that when faced with terror/fear I either scream or laugh.By this time, I was laughing hysterically with Richard. Think Ed was numb. Next we careened down what appeared to be an alleyway that was actually a street lined with parked cars. Suddenly we stop in the lane of traffic, "we are here, ship around corner just 200 meters". A half a mile later, if I had encountered the "idiot", believe I would have had the strength to strangle. As I finally dragged myself through ship security, my Butler was called to confirm I was the last passenger to return. What a distinction. Oh, yes, I have a Butler who was waiting smilingly with my door open as my rubber band legs made it down the hallway .... a scotch would be nice, thank you.
Dinner, in Discoveries, was late but delicious, especially the Oysters Appetizer, and a nice Cabernet with TC [Ed's aunt] and Richard. We departed for Yalta at 10:00p.m. Following dinner we went up to the top deck and watched the lights pass and recede into the darkness of the Bosporus. We are on our way.
That is quite enough for now; join me for a cup of restorative tea and consider a whole day at sea and Yalta??? Later....
First on the agenda is The Palace: beautiful gardens, the stony guard on his pedestal, shoe covers and then the steps and stairways and crystal [Waterford and Polish]. Even the balustrades; such opulence, no wonder there was a revolt. After all the walking in circles, the boat ride up and around the Bosporus gave way to many naps. Lunch! Now off to the Bazaar; however, Ed, Richard [Ed's uncle] and I elected to get off the tour bus at the Blue Mosque. We're on our own now! If you look moderately confused, "guides" flock to you. After some negotiating, we were led inside [the walls are blue mosaic tile] and given the whole story. Oh, you know, this was a true mosque to replace the use of Haige Sophia which is a basilica and doesn't face east exactly. As we walked out, our guide had insisted we visit his carpet show room. There is something about NO and NO THANK YOU that fuels a sellers fire.
Cotton on cotton, silk on cotton, silk on silk, they were all there in their rich colors.... Prayer rugs up to 12'x10'.... every shade, every design. For a moment I was fearful they had hooked Ed; but we escaped to run headlong into a jewelry shop of the most exquisite items. The masses of small unpolished rubies on multiple long strands of liquid gold .... ummmmmm .... pure elegance. Shake it off, dig in, must get back up that hill and over to see Sophia.
Haige Sophia, a basilica built for Christian worship until the Muslims arrived. They turned it into a mosque until The Blue Mosque was built. For me, it still held that ambiance that is so quieting. The craftsmanship and artistry is amazing considering it was built in the 3rd or 4th century. Our art hasn't come all that far when one really considers everything. Wonder what the walls would tell. Time to head for the ship ... TAXI!
Richard and I piled into the back seat. Ed, being over 6' was left to fold himself into the front. The first indication of creativity, the idiot crossed over behind the electric trolley and we proceeded to have the wildest ride without touching the horn. We maneuvered through centimeters width of air space at breakneck speeds then slam on the brakes. We nearly had an old man and his wooden push cart laden with tea and pastries as a hood ornament. I must note that when faced with terror/fear I either scream or laugh.By this time, I was laughing hysterically with Richard. Think Ed was numb. Next we careened down what appeared to be an alleyway that was actually a street lined with parked cars. Suddenly we stop in the lane of traffic, "we are here, ship around corner just 200 meters". A half a mile later, if I had encountered the "idiot", believe I would have had the strength to strangle. As I finally dragged myself through ship security, my Butler was called to confirm I was the last passenger to return. What a distinction. Oh, yes, I have a Butler who was waiting smilingly with my door open as my rubber band legs made it down the hallway .... a scotch would be nice, thank you.
Dinner, in Discoveries, was late but delicious, especially the Oysters Appetizer, and a nice Cabernet with TC [Ed's aunt] and Richard. We departed for Yalta at 10:00p.m. Following dinner we went up to the top deck and watched the lights pass and recede into the darkness of the Bosporus. We are on our way.
That is quite enough for now; join me for a cup of restorative tea and consider a whole day at sea and Yalta??? Later....
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Istanbul, of course Turkey
Atlanta's Hartsfield runway, Delta flight #36 and the wheels finally leave the ground. We are really on our way almost a year later than originally planned. The "we" happen to have been friends for over 30 years and thought we might travel well together ... and we did. Now, one other piece of history - You see I fell and broke my patella 6 days before we were to leave for Italy, France and England. A very grim day to say the least. Ah, well, this time we are off to Istanbul and a Black Sea cruise. Just the confusion of their airport, trying to find our bus to the ship gave an inkling to those "funny wrinkles" in our personalities.
The ride was along the waterfront with visions to the right of rusting ship hulls laying at anchor. To the left, beige horizontal buildings were stacked and stacked. Minarets pierced through the mass everywhere [later to learn, there were 3,000 mosque]. This is probably a good point to mention the local driving habits. There isn't enough time for road rage as every driver is intent on "squeezing" into invisible spaces between the not so invisible vehicles of every size. Centimeters seem an appropriate measure to occupy unflustered. It was the best show I've ever seen of pure intestinal fortitude. Eventually we arrived at Customs house and the Azamara Quest, our home for the next 12 days.... well, maybe. Our next hurdle, we were not on the manifest according to a very official young woman with more authority than English at which point Ed had endured more than he could tolerate, so off to have a smoke, in other words fix it. So, this young policeman and I patiently scanned the sheets until it was discovered we had been "upgraded". Once more through a security check and passports returned, up the ramp and aboard. Holy cow!! air conditioning ... yes .... now to find our staterooms [8039 and 8036], the last discovery. Heaven help us, taaa daaa, Ed's on the port [left] side and across our connecting hallway I'm on the starboard [right] side with balconies [yea!!!!]. Oh, I know it's those little pleasures that thrill the soul..... I need a drink and it's only the middle of the morning. Breath, don't forget to breath ..... lets go find lunch.
Now, Windows had a panorama view and the buffet wasn't shabby either. It would take a few days to figure out hot/cold, a little or a lot, Black Currant Sorbet ... ummmmmm, yummmmm!! decisions, decisions. As our heads began to droop closer toward our plates, naps seemed perfect,"call me when you wake", great. I have no memory of falling across the bed, only of the phone ringing and answering to Ed's voice far away. You know, we had a comfortable flight in Business Class, for what ever reason I just can't seem to sleep for more than a couple of hours. Anyway, it's time to canvas the ship and get our bearings while we wait for our luggage.
Dinner was complimentary in the Aqualina Restaurant. Well, if there was a course we weren't going to skip it; however, when you must order dessert first I've learned it could be the best part of the meal ... it was Grand Mariner Souffle.
There were no morsels left of Scollop's, Crab Salad, Lobster Bisque, Chilean Sea Bass, Lobster Thermador/Pot Pie AND a bottle of a really lovely Shiraz. Obviously, we are still savoring the memory of all those flavors. but the Souffle was a work of art on the tongue. It amazes me what can happen with some eggs, sugar and flavoring. Mercy me!!!! That old song comes to mind "heaven, I'm in heaven and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak" ..... you get the idea. Please don't make me move; could "they" just roll our chairs to where ever we're suppose to be next, PLEASE.
Next for me, I feel as though I've hit the day 1 wall. Begging off from further collective activity seems appropriate. Stumbling into my stateroom, grab a scotch, linger in a hot shower and, at last, quiet time on the balcony watching the water taxis and boats of all descriptions frantically churning to and fro. A second slower scotch, the whole area is lite up like in a holiday fashion: the Blue Mosque and Haige Sophia are directly across the inlet up on the hill. It is a strange and amazing place and the air is full of spice. Tomorrow will be a full day.
Well, seems a good place to stop and find a cup of tea .... join me?? Later...
The ride was along the waterfront with visions to the right of rusting ship hulls laying at anchor. To the left, beige horizontal buildings were stacked and stacked. Minarets pierced through the mass everywhere [later to learn, there were 3,000 mosque]. This is probably a good point to mention the local driving habits. There isn't enough time for road rage as every driver is intent on "squeezing" into invisible spaces between the not so invisible vehicles of every size. Centimeters seem an appropriate measure to occupy unflustered. It was the best show I've ever seen of pure intestinal fortitude. Eventually we arrived at Customs house and the Azamara Quest, our home for the next 12 days.... well, maybe. Our next hurdle, we were not on the manifest according to a very official young woman with more authority than English at which point Ed had endured more than he could tolerate, so off to have a smoke, in other words fix it. So, this young policeman and I patiently scanned the sheets until it was discovered we had been "upgraded". Once more through a security check and passports returned, up the ramp and aboard. Holy cow!! air conditioning ... yes .... now to find our staterooms [8039 and 8036], the last discovery. Heaven help us, taaa daaa, Ed's on the port [left] side and across our connecting hallway I'm on the starboard [right] side with balconies [yea!!!!]. Oh, I know it's those little pleasures that thrill the soul..... I need a drink and it's only the middle of the morning. Breath, don't forget to breath ..... lets go find lunch.
Now, Windows had a panorama view and the buffet wasn't shabby either. It would take a few days to figure out hot/cold, a little or a lot, Black Currant Sorbet ... ummmmmm, yummmmm!! decisions, decisions. As our heads began to droop closer toward our plates, naps seemed perfect,"call me when you wake", great. I have no memory of falling across the bed, only of the phone ringing and answering to Ed's voice far away. You know, we had a comfortable flight in Business Class, for what ever reason I just can't seem to sleep for more than a couple of hours. Anyway, it's time to canvas the ship and get our bearings while we wait for our luggage.
Dinner was complimentary in the Aqualina Restaurant. Well, if there was a course we weren't going to skip it; however, when you must order dessert first I've learned it could be the best part of the meal ... it was Grand Mariner Souffle.
There were no morsels left of Scollop's, Crab Salad, Lobster Bisque, Chilean Sea Bass, Lobster Thermador/Pot Pie AND a bottle of a really lovely Shiraz. Obviously, we are still savoring the memory of all those flavors. but the Souffle was a work of art on the tongue. It amazes me what can happen with some eggs, sugar and flavoring. Mercy me!!!! That old song comes to mind "heaven, I'm in heaven and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak" ..... you get the idea. Please don't make me move; could "they" just roll our chairs to where ever we're suppose to be next, PLEASE.
Next for me, I feel as though I've hit the day 1 wall. Begging off from further collective activity seems appropriate. Stumbling into my stateroom, grab a scotch, linger in a hot shower and, at last, quiet time on the balcony watching the water taxis and boats of all descriptions frantically churning to and fro. A second slower scotch, the whole area is lite up like in a holiday fashion: the Blue Mosque and Haige Sophia are directly across the inlet up on the hill. It is a strange and amazing place and the air is full of spice. Tomorrow will be a full day.
Well, seems a good place to stop and find a cup of tea .... join me?? Later...
Monday, June 28, 2010
Snake Alert!!!!!!!
"Snakes ..... I hate snakes." This quote from Indiana Jones covers my sentiments perfectly. O.K., o.k . .... all creatures great and small have a place in the giant scheme of things; however, I do not have to like or live with them. Well, actually, you see, one did live in our home, for awhile, once. If you have a child allergic to animal dander and you don't wish to spend all your time sitting with him in the hospital under an oxygen tent, concessions are often made. Reggie was a Bald Python.
The care and handling was "their" job. Oh, you know who "they" are .... anyone in the family other than you. So we settled into a routine, periodically, I would purchase a mouse and "they" would feed him. Then we had the escapes. I would check behind and under the sofa cushions before sitting ..... really, I did not have a raving fit. One time he was missing for about a month. We decided, when hunger was an issue, he would show up. One evening I was summoned to a storage area and instructed to open a drawer. There coiled in among the wires, extension cords, etc was Reggie unable to extricate himself. After much unraveling, all was back to normal.
Don't be lulled into thinking that my fine wholesome men/boys didn't pull pranks on me, because they did until that time when the world went sideways. Which is the point of this narrative.
We've all lingered lazily in bed on a Saturday morning. It was Spring, the windows were open, and I just slipped back into an easy sleep. Thinking it would be fun to see what would happen if "they" slipped Reggie in bed with me, "they" watched. Slowly I became aware something was in the bed and moving under the sheet which caused a sudden panic reaction. From "their" vantage point outside the bedroom door, my family witnessed an amazing feat of agility. I was told that I actually had levitated and exited the bed giving the impression to have been running on thin air...... to say nothing of the sound that emanated from my mouth. Perhaps at first, "their" inclination was to run as well; but considering my past reactions to rid the world of vermin, "they" decided restraining would be safer for Reggie. This later explanation had to wait as my sensibilities had been thoroughly compromised. I am certain that a Judge would have dismissed any murder charges against me due to hysterical insanity. An indelibly etched lesson was learned that day.
Snakes came to mind this morning as I made my daily wander through the tomatoes, roses and such in the garden. There weren't any lurking about, but maybe I should carry a hoe with me just in case. We could discuss this over a cup of tea.
The care and handling was "their" job. Oh, you know who "they" are .... anyone in the family other than you. So we settled into a routine, periodically, I would purchase a mouse and "they" would feed him. Then we had the escapes. I would check behind and under the sofa cushions before sitting ..... really, I did not have a raving fit. One time he was missing for about a month. We decided, when hunger was an issue, he would show up. One evening I was summoned to a storage area and instructed to open a drawer. There coiled in among the wires, extension cords, etc was Reggie unable to extricate himself. After much unraveling, all was back to normal.
Don't be lulled into thinking that my fine wholesome men/boys didn't pull pranks on me, because they did until that time when the world went sideways. Which is the point of this narrative.
We've all lingered lazily in bed on a Saturday morning. It was Spring, the windows were open, and I just slipped back into an easy sleep. Thinking it would be fun to see what would happen if "they" slipped Reggie in bed with me, "they" watched. Slowly I became aware something was in the bed and moving under the sheet which caused a sudden panic reaction. From "their" vantage point outside the bedroom door, my family witnessed an amazing feat of agility. I was told that I actually had levitated and exited the bed giving the impression to have been running on thin air...... to say nothing of the sound that emanated from my mouth. Perhaps at first, "their" inclination was to run as well; but considering my past reactions to rid the world of vermin, "they" decided restraining would be safer for Reggie. This later explanation had to wait as my sensibilities had been thoroughly compromised. I am certain that a Judge would have dismissed any murder charges against me due to hysterical insanity. An indelibly etched lesson was learned that day.
Snakes came to mind this morning as I made my daily wander through the tomatoes, roses and such in the garden. There weren't any lurking about, but maybe I should carry a hoe with me just in case. We could discuss this over a cup of tea.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Coca-cola Gravy
Watching the World Cup this morning, I noticed the Coca-cola advertisement around the field which in turn triggered a neuron to misfire leaving a gap in my conscious thought .... coke gravy. Oh, dear, we are back to food where this whole thing started.
He loved to entertain at home, in a duck blind, on a river bank or a goose pit. "Let's take a camp stove or a backpackers stove and have fresh" fish, duck, doves .... whatever. In May and June, many times he would be cleaning fish as I was catching them. Now, please understand there would be accompaniments ..... prepared slaw, sliced tomatoes, sliced onions, tartar sauce, lemons, but french fries right out of the pan. All this to share the taste of fresh fried battered fish in Nature's glory. Of course, sitting on the ground was not ideal due to ticks, ants, etc. Sometimes advanced prep work was done ..... a desired spot, with the right view, might require clearing of debri, cut the grass, create a table for the cloth. Everything was on a rustic grand scale. I recall wondering where he actually came from, this classy romantic fella and how I was so lucky to be part of his life. I digress. Sometimes this was a bribe to coerce the boys to join us; but other times we had invited friends along for "an afternoon on the river". What fun!
Fall brought on Dove Shoots. The menu was simple Fried Dove Breast, Sliced Tomatoes, Rice, Milk Gravy all cooked on site. Yep, we used the same equipment; however, rather than a cool river bank, generally it was a hot Alabama or Tennessee afternoon looking for a shady tree. OR, he had provided a table and chairs from the van. I was tempted once to inquire if the Silver Service or the candlesticks would be used but immediately thought better keeping my mouth shut. Sometimes it's best to be surprised ..... pleasantly so. Floating the creek in a canoe for Squirrels was often concluded with wine and cheese served by paddle drifting back to the van.
Deer camp was a full blown event with Dutch Ovens [that's plural and often stacked] as it is for many folks. But Duck hunting, what idiot would think of it much less decide to do IT!!! First off, you're up at 3 a.m., dressed and in the van by 3;30, sleep til 4: 20, arrive at Mr. Barby's farm. Slip canoes off racks, load them, then drag across muddy field to flood timbers. Thank goodness the boys were there to help. Or, another option and this mornings destination would be the coal shute at Coffee Lake and "the narrows". Who in their right mind would even consider cooking. We had guest coming; well, of course we did .... a friend and his wife who was as much an outdoorsman as I am an Astronaut. So, of course, "himself" must make an event of it. "We'll have Fried Duck Breast with Rice and Gravy". You did note that was a statement not a question ...... good. The one thing I have not mentioned is the temperature. It's cold outdoors in January just in case you were confused and still thinking of the river bank in May. Ducks migrate when the temperature drops, a lot. This particular day was "brisk" to say the least. Nonetheless, out come the backpacker stoves and all are very impressed. The last thing to make is the gravy ..... quietly he inquired as to the canned milk. As I had not been part of the packing process and as generally my responsibilities were to "just get me in the van and go back to sleep" .... guess said milk was still in the kitchen. Well, not to be undone, we inventoried our supply of liquids. Caffine Free Diet Coke was the sum total. Funny what carbonation does to a roux [oil and flour]. I will say, after much stirring, adding massive amounts of pepper and some salt, he served us all our repass. He ate 3 helpings of rice and coke gravy that day. Sorry, but my vocabulary is insufficent to truly express the taste sensation and we rarely spoke of it for a few years; after which, we all joked and laughed about that day's outcome.
That's the truth about coca-cola gravy. You know, if memory serves, our friend's wife did not return to the field for another Duck Hunt, ever. Am pretty sure it was the cold not the gravy. WOW, life was full. Hummmm, think I'm about ready for a cup of tea .......
He loved to entertain at home, in a duck blind, on a river bank or a goose pit. "Let's take a camp stove or a backpackers stove and have fresh" fish, duck, doves .... whatever. In May and June, many times he would be cleaning fish as I was catching them. Now, please understand there would be accompaniments ..... prepared slaw, sliced tomatoes, sliced onions, tartar sauce, lemons, but french fries right out of the pan. All this to share the taste of fresh fried battered fish in Nature's glory. Of course, sitting on the ground was not ideal due to ticks, ants, etc. Sometimes advanced prep work was done ..... a desired spot, with the right view, might require clearing of debri, cut the grass, create a table for the cloth. Everything was on a rustic grand scale. I recall wondering where he actually came from, this classy romantic fella and how I was so lucky to be part of his life. I digress. Sometimes this was a bribe to coerce the boys to join us; but other times we had invited friends along for "an afternoon on the river". What fun!
Fall brought on Dove Shoots. The menu was simple Fried Dove Breast, Sliced Tomatoes, Rice, Milk Gravy all cooked on site. Yep, we used the same equipment; however, rather than a cool river bank, generally it was a hot Alabama or Tennessee afternoon looking for a shady tree. OR, he had provided a table and chairs from the van. I was tempted once to inquire if the Silver Service or the candlesticks would be used but immediately thought better keeping my mouth shut. Sometimes it's best to be surprised ..... pleasantly so. Floating the creek in a canoe for Squirrels was often concluded with wine and cheese served by paddle drifting back to the van.
Deer camp was a full blown event with Dutch Ovens [that's plural and often stacked] as it is for many folks. But Duck hunting, what idiot would think of it much less decide to do IT!!! First off, you're up at 3 a.m., dressed and in the van by 3;30, sleep til 4: 20, arrive at Mr. Barby's farm. Slip canoes off racks, load them, then drag across muddy field to flood timbers. Thank goodness the boys were there to help. Or, another option and this mornings destination would be the coal shute at Coffee Lake and "the narrows". Who in their right mind would even consider cooking. We had guest coming; well, of course we did .... a friend and his wife who was as much an outdoorsman as I am an Astronaut. So, of course, "himself" must make an event of it. "We'll have Fried Duck Breast with Rice and Gravy". You did note that was a statement not a question ...... good. The one thing I have not mentioned is the temperature. It's cold outdoors in January just in case you were confused and still thinking of the river bank in May. Ducks migrate when the temperature drops, a lot. This particular day was "brisk" to say the least. Nonetheless, out come the backpacker stoves and all are very impressed. The last thing to make is the gravy ..... quietly he inquired as to the canned milk. As I had not been part of the packing process and as generally my responsibilities were to "just get me in the van and go back to sleep" .... guess said milk was still in the kitchen. Well, not to be undone, we inventoried our supply of liquids. Caffine Free Diet Coke was the sum total. Funny what carbonation does to a roux [oil and flour]. I will say, after much stirring, adding massive amounts of pepper and some salt, he served us all our repass. He ate 3 helpings of rice and coke gravy that day. Sorry, but my vocabulary is insufficent to truly express the taste sensation and we rarely spoke of it for a few years; after which, we all joked and laughed about that day's outcome.
That's the truth about coca-cola gravy. You know, if memory serves, our friend's wife did not return to the field for another Duck Hunt, ever. Am pretty sure it was the cold not the gravy. WOW, life was full. Hummmm, think I'm about ready for a cup of tea .......
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Old Photo Memories
A shared stack of old photos has generated a "remember when" trip. Olive Branch, Illinois, Greenley Lodge near Horseshoe Refuge [think that's the name], geese, young Lab, young sons, everything seemed young 30 +/- years ago. All the same, there we were, the 5 of us. The travel begins with the first out of sequence picture [there you are kneeling down holding up 2 heavy geese behind 6 more laying on the ground in front of you and trying to smile], but the memory tends to organize back to "are the boys old enough to really enjoy making this trip" apparently was never part of Dad's thought process. "I want to give the boys something I never had .... HUNTING WITH MY DAD." So, it began.
A goose flock can have as few as 6 to 8 birds and as many as 18 to 26 or more birds. When these groups come together enmass, well, the field turns from green to beige and has a rippling apearance. The sound .... unfortunately my verbal skills do not translate "it" into written words .... just accept that it is similar to a recognizable murmur, audible for great distances. AND THEN, we step into their field for a better view. Our arrival causes major panic and the need to escape resulting in organized choas. I can honestly say I don't know which is louder .... the honking or the wings beating. But to one lover of wildlife, it is a music on no CD, but all these years later, WOW!! Look at the picture and I'm there.
The funny thing about an old bunch of photos is they are not only out of sequence but others have been shuffled into the mix .... oh, you know, there's your youngest sliding down the roof of the Hart's hay barn retrieving a dove since the Lab can't get to it and everyone else is too large to be shoved upon the roof .... soooooooo, send Ian. Dad liked to make times special .... turn the end of a Dove shoot into a safari with wine etc, chairs and a dressed table.
Abruptly, the eye recognizes we have moved to our haunt in the Fla. Key, wetsuits, SCUBA tanks, smiling faces, hands waving Spiny Lobsters with friends from another life era. Or taking invited friends for the game fish Dolphin [that's different from Porpoise]. I do believe Dad would rather guide than actually fish .... "I'd rather put you on fish and watch you fight them; just get it in the boat" .... cope out .... but actually, heaven help the one who lost the battle. I lost a fish once, purported to have been a "very large" Permit [how did he decide that, we never saw the fish], he is probably sitting on his cloud sharing that ignoble moment in my life with everyone.
In the mix, there is AttaBoy a.k.a. Adam holding a mighty goose .... atta boy!! Then bored boys waiting for that few minutes of a flurry or Mitchell and Mitchell shoulder to shoulder in flooded timber. Other reminders of those brief stored snaps of life that confirm events. Funny, there we are sttting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial and a stranger taking the shot. That was 1985, the first trip in our new van with the queen size bed across the back. That was very important move up from a Chevet. Quess it is true, our lives are a collection of meer moments passing through the great halls of time. Well, thank goodness for the pictures that fill in the Swiss Cheese of my memories. It was a fun ride for the most part .... no it isn't over yet ..... just different.
A goose flock can have as few as 6 to 8 birds and as many as 18 to 26 or more birds. When these groups come together enmass, well, the field turns from green to beige and has a rippling apearance. The sound .... unfortunately my verbal skills do not translate "it" into written words .... just accept that it is similar to a recognizable murmur, audible for great distances. AND THEN, we step into their field for a better view. Our arrival causes major panic and the need to escape resulting in organized choas. I can honestly say I don't know which is louder .... the honking or the wings beating. But to one lover of wildlife, it is a music on no CD, but all these years later, WOW!! Look at the picture and I'm there.
The funny thing about an old bunch of photos is they are not only out of sequence but others have been shuffled into the mix .... oh, you know, there's your youngest sliding down the roof of the Hart's hay barn retrieving a dove since the Lab can't get to it and everyone else is too large to be shoved upon the roof .... soooooooo, send Ian. Dad liked to make times special .... turn the end of a Dove shoot into a safari with wine etc, chairs and a dressed table.
Abruptly, the eye recognizes we have moved to our haunt in the Fla. Key, wetsuits, SCUBA tanks, smiling faces, hands waving Spiny Lobsters with friends from another life era. Or taking invited friends for the game fish Dolphin [that's different from Porpoise]. I do believe Dad would rather guide than actually fish .... "I'd rather put you on fish and watch you fight them; just get it in the boat" .... cope out .... but actually, heaven help the one who lost the battle. I lost a fish once, purported to have been a "very large" Permit [how did he decide that, we never saw the fish], he is probably sitting on his cloud sharing that ignoble moment in my life with everyone.
In the mix, there is AttaBoy a.k.a. Adam holding a mighty goose .... atta boy!! Then bored boys waiting for that few minutes of a flurry or Mitchell and Mitchell shoulder to shoulder in flooded timber. Other reminders of those brief stored snaps of life that confirm events. Funny, there we are sttting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial and a stranger taking the shot. That was 1985, the first trip in our new van with the queen size bed across the back. That was very important move up from a Chevet. Quess it is true, our lives are a collection of meer moments passing through the great halls of time. Well, thank goodness for the pictures that fill in the Swiss Cheese of my memories. It was a fun ride for the most part .... no it isn't over yet ..... just different.
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