The Journey of a hot air balloon at the Plainville Hot Air Balloon Festival

The girl is sitting on the hot air balloon yet to be unpacked.
 



Testing the flame

Unrolling the balloon

Still unpacking the balloon

 

The fan is filling the balloon with air

And more air

Starting to lift it

See the flames? I could feel them too!

Sorry, I just can't get these pictures up right.

Lift off!!

 

Bye. Thanks for the show!

Encounter with a Cop--Guilty until proven innocent?

This morning I went on my merry way of Saturday errands. My first stop was CVS armed with coupons and a mission. Satisfied by my purchases there, I proceeded back towards Stop & Shop.

On Route 44 a cop had someone pulled over. The person pulled over had pulled way over but the cop car was halfway over the white line. As the cars passed him, cars in the other direction had to pull over to their shoulder. I was thinking how unsafe it all was.

Well, two seconds later, the cop pulled out and put on his flashers and I thought, "Is he pulling me over?" And I realized he was.

My mind continued to run, "What did I do wrong?" I knew the speed limit was low and if I were over it, so be it, but I didn't know how I could have been speeding going around him. I knew our registration was up to date. I just could not imagine.

Well, I saw him get out and he came to the passenger side and I rolled down the window (a couple of weeks ago it broke and we could not open or close it, thankfully George had fixed it). He said he was pulling me over for talking on my cell phone. I said that I wasn't. I said sometime I do rest my head on my hand when driving. He said he saw me talking on the phone and that he wanted my license and registration. I got them out but insisted that I wasn't talking on a cell phone. I said, "Where is my phone?" holding up my empty hands.

He said he did not know but he saw me. I said, "I'll show you where my phone is." I had to lean over to the left and squeeze my hand in my pants pocket to get out the cell phone. He then asked to see my pocket book which was on the seat. I did, but I said, "Why?" I wasn't sure he was allowed to do such a thing. He said he was looking for another phone.

He, in the mean time called the dispatcher. He glanced in my pocket book and then he said, that he must have made a mistake.

What a way to start my morning. I was so upset of being falsely accused. If I had been doing something wrong, I would have been disappointed in having my first ticket (other than a parking ticket), but I was innocent!

You know what is serendipitous about all this? When I set out in the morning, I put my cell phone in the cup holder so I would not have to find it in my pocket book if someone called. When I went into CVS, I forgot it and while I was shopping, I left my cart and went back to the car to get it in case someone called. If I had not gone back out to the car to get it, it would have been in the cup holder and I know he would have given me a ticket.

Happy Retirement, George!

George's last day driving the bus.  He is now retired. Well, if you don't count landlording, having a cleaning business and thinking about another venture! I don't think he will ever be able to really retire. But he's calling himself retired, so Happy Retirement, George!

In my dreams....

Don't know why but last night, Joshua was in my dreams. It was so vivid and real that I was hugging him and holding him. In my dream I felt sure it was real, but of course, at the same time knew it couldn't be. In my dream I was holding him and asking George if he could see him and he finally said no--and yet I could feel him. I couldn't understand it.

It was a very strange dream. It was nice to feel like he was here again. Miss my little friend.

Salisbury Beach, New Hampshire

 Salisbury Beach, New Hampshire.
Enjoying the large waves and collecting sea glass and mini pieces of driftwood.

Professor Hale and A New England Winter

Professor Hale is a dear "friend" of mine who...

Of pickles and jams, he’s a connoisseur, you might say

Not strawberry, grape nor blueberry—nay!

Not kosher, dill, sour or sweet;

Not bread and butter nor pickled beets.

No, not pickles and jams of the edible sort,

But sticky situations are his special sport

I have "documented" a number of his sticky situations and  I have been saving them for a collection, but now just seems the right time to share his blizzard experience as told to me.

Professor Hale and a New England Winter

           by Deborah C. Washington

“I grew up in New England where the weather changes on a dime

It can go from sun to rain to snow to hail in record breaking time.

Springtime is lush, green and muddy are the grounds

Summertime fresh veggies and flowers always abound

In autumn the leaves of the trees turn red, yellow and gold

It’s a new treasure every year, an honor to behold.

To survive the winters you have to be of hearty stock

I remember the morning when we woke up to a shock

We thought it was still night as no light shone in

But then we saw the wall of white when we moved the curtain.

We opened the door and were face to face with a tower of snow.

Fortunate for us we had no place to go.

We sat down to breakfast and laughed at the snow.

We were hearty New Englanders and our fear did not show.

After eating and sitting around for a while,

We longed for a glimpse of our neighbor’s smile.

Time to shovel ourselves out, was what we thought

But outside was the new shovel that we had bought.

Trowels, and shovels and buckets and the like

We stored in the shed outside with the bike.

Ladles and spoons were the only tools in our “jail”

So, we dug and tunneled and put the snow in a pail.

We dumped it in the sink and filled it again

And again and again and again and again and again.

We squirmed like worms in our tunnel a few feet high

But we kept on going—for Yankee’s it do or die.

After hours of ladling and spooning our way

We were delighted to hear somebody say

“Hello in there. Are you okay?”

“Why yes we’re fine, How are you today?”

And then our goal was in our sight

Our neighbor’s smile—just before night.

“We’re going back in for now, but for tomorrow

Do you think that shovel we could borrow?”

“Of course” our dear neighbor said

And we crawled our way back home to bed.

The lesson we learned on that blizzard of a day

Bring your shovel in, unless inside you want to stay."

100 Years of Life

I cannot fathom living 100 years. It was our pleasure to attend our first 100th birthday party this year. My great Aunt Helen was born on 12/12/12.

She is amazing. She said to me, "I don't have an ache or a pain--not even a headache." I thought how pathetic I am with my aches and pains.

She does have macular degeneration and only recently started using a cane for support.

 

When someone lives this long, you wonder how they did it--what is the secret? I can think of two factors that are unique to Aunt Helen. I don't know if they are the secret to a long life, but I do think they have something to do with it.

First, she pulls no punches. She never hesitated whenever we visited her over the years to to tell us that we had gained weight or that we ate well (things we obviously knew and didn't really like being reminded of). She never thought twice about telling her thoughts. Perhaps not agonizing about what others think about what you say can add years on to your life. She was brutally honest. No pretenses.

Yet, why as I write this, do I feel a tinge of guilt telling the truth about her? I guess I just don't take after her.  

 Another trait of Aunt Helen's that will go down in our family history is the historic "Aunt Helen sliver or slice". When we served dessert and asked her if she wanted a piece, she would say just a tiny sliver and then she would show us. It would be the tiniest slice you could imagine. It has become a joke in our family when someone says they want just a little piece--how little? An Aunt Helen slice?



This Aunt Helen's only son, Donald.



Now as the new year approaches and I toy with the idea of a New Year's resolution to lose weight, I wonder if the best diet would be an Aunt Helen's sliver diet--eat anything you want, only in miniature portions. It certainly worked for her.

                                                                        











The picture below is of Aunt Helen and her second husband, Uncle Bill. He was thirteen years younger than her. He died last year at age 87. Who would have thought that she would out live him? They married when he was 25 and she was 38. 

We loved watching their relationship. Uncle Bill had a wonderful sense of humor and loved to laugh. Aunt Helen appeared to be more serious. He seemed to like to "crank her up" or say things that others of us might have thought but not dare say. We really couldn't "read' her reaction to him. We didn't know if she was angry with what he said and he would get it later, or if she just took him with a grain of salt. Whatever the reaction was, it worked for them because they were married 62 years.

The family did a great job of celebrating Aunt Helen's 100th birthday. They reminded us that in the year she was born: the Titanic sunk, Fenway Park opened and New Mexico and Arizona were named the 47th and 48th states. They presented a great slide show of pictures of various stages of her life and included her chihuahuas that she loved. They presented each of us with a little cookbook of her favorite recipes, which had to finally be written down. I will remember when I make them the portion control of an Aunt Helen serving!