Hey, from Maine!

Hello from snowy Maine! 

We spent Saturday night in East Greenbush, New York. I do not recommend East Greenbush. For anything. Lousy motel (it was clean, but that’s about it) and the only food around was pretty awful. We left about 6:30 Sunday morning and within 15 minutes we were in Massachusetts on the Mass Pike – they have given/sold their traveling souls to Ray Kroc. Every single travel service station had McDonald’s – but no Starbucks. Sigh. Naturally, there was a Dunkin Donuts at each station, but I really, really dislike DD’s coffee.

The tollways in Massachusetts were nice, but not as good as Ohio’s. Maine’s turnpike is decent – very few potholes, but I think they learned signage from the Washington DOT….Their signs are almost as bad as the road signs in Seattle. Unless you already know how to get somewhere, good luck finding your way.

We arrived here in Scarborough about noon on Sunday, in time to watch the Pack get eaten alive by the Atlanta Falcons….but also in time to see the Steelers lose. Now we have a conundrum. Here we are, in New England, and we don’t really have a rooting interest in either team. I think I’m going to have to root for the Falcons – if for no other reason than everyone else around here will be flying No. 12 Brady flags….(they really don’t understand Ross’ No. 12 flag – wrong color blue). So, Go, Falcons!

Good thing I posted a picture of the Norwegian mittens – I was going to show them to you (all my knitting buddies) when we got home, but they have been appropriated by Laila. They fit her just fine….but now I am committed to making Jocelyn a pair. Fortunately, my daughter-in-law has discovered a new knit shop in Portland, so we’ll be going to town as soon as the kids are back in school (they are enjoying a “snow day” today).

On the Road Again...

Left Chicago via the Chicago Skyway (aka I-90) at 9:20 this morning.

This part of Indiana is uninspiring....although every time (Every. Single. Time.) I go across that bridge I feel compelled to sing, “Gary, Indiana"..from The Music Man.....so now it's in my head until something better occurs to me....

There is only one service station (Oasis, for those of you from the Midwest) on the Indiana turnpike. One. There are actually a lot of others, here in our new Vice-President’s state, but they are all closed. So, if you need to use the restroom while in Indiana, you'll need to wait until you get to Ohio. (Where the state of the highway is vastly better than Indiana, btw) We have been wondering what happens/who pays for interstate highways, such as these turnpikes. I’m assuming that the federal government gives the states money to pay for part and then the state does the work. If that is the case, then Mr. Pence has been using his state’s portion to do something other than pay for the roadwork. The potholes in the Indy Turnpike are the worst ever – even worse than the ones in Chicago!

While driving through western Ohio, we saw the exit for Gibsonberg, Ohio. Guess I've been exposed to bluegrass long enough that I started singing Gibsonberg....."Let me guess your birthday, just give me a couple dollars if I’m right.....if I keep on guessing I might get to Gibsonberg tonight." So “Gary, Indiana”  has been replaced by “Gibsonberg.” I guess it's a good think we aren't going through Allentown, PA, or I'd be crooning along with The Boss....

And we are now watching college wrestling in our motel room in Erie, PA. Tomorrow morning we’ll take off early and see how far we get. If we can’t go the whole way to Scarborough, ME, we’ll stop in Albany and finish with a short, 5-hour day on Sunday.

Pacific Madrona

We’re getting ready to hit the road again….we’ll probably leave Chicago on Friday, heading to Ross’ house in Scarborough, Maine. Should be a 2-day drive. Bob bought an  i-pass, which gets us half price tolls on the Tri-State tollway and on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. Generally, the trip to the east coast via toll roads runs about $80 each way, and the i-pass costs about half that. So we now sport a little white box on the front windshield, like all the other Midwesterners and Right Coasters.

Last night we went with Becky to the Chicago Hootenanny, which takes place every week in Lincoln Park (a neighborhood right near the lake, not to be confused with Lincoln Square, which is not by the lake but is the “toniest” neighborhood in town).  People who love bluegrass and/or play bluegrass gather to just sing and play. Some are actual bands who come to practice new songs, but most are just individual musicians who come to share their love of bluegrass. Last night it was mostly individuals – but that doesn’t mean they didn’t play together.  

 This group of guys was simply amazing – the banjo player is a professional musician named Bob (who we met at last week’s jam session). What a great banjo picker – he had everyone tapping their toes and hollering. The fiddler is clearly a classically trained violinist – it shows in his posture while playing, the way he holds his instrument, the vibrato in his left wrist …. But, wow, he brought down the house every time. The other 2 guys were incredible, too – the mandolin player is a guy who drives up to Chicago from Nashville to play at the Hoot, and the guitar player was like every bluegrass/country singer you’ve ever heard – gravel-voiced with fingers that moved so fast you couldn’t really watch.

Then, there was Becky, with Chuck and friends – the mandolin player has played professionally for about 40 years, and he was just  A M A Z I N G.  A fiddler named Brandon came up and played with them, too…and pointed it out when Becky sang her first original song, “Pacific Madrona.” Becky wrote this song for me, and it was exciting for me to hear it played on a stage….she did great, and the song got a nice big cheer. 

Now I’ve got one more day to spend with my big sister, and then we’ll hit the road again…..

“Pacific Madrona is reaching out to you. Darlin’, come home from Chicago, I’m waiting there for you.”

Dead animals, bluegrass and cold.....

The Field Museum is one of this country’s premier museums – and could probably be one of the most expensive. Last Wednesday was “free day” – Illinois residents didn’t have to pay (Becky sneaked us in, so we didn’t pay, either). However, you still have to pay to see the exhibits. So, for about $54 we got in to the museum (on a regular day it would’ve cost us about $130 PLUS the $54 – this does not count the $19 we had to pay to park. I’m glad it was a FREE day.). I’m not sure how people take their children to these amazing things that are all over the place here….

Anyway, we went to the museum and saw the Tattoo exhibit. It was fascinating….and a little disturbing, if I’m being honest. I have nothing against tattoos – 3 of my kids are tattooed, and it doesn’t bother me (much).  It’s a personal expression of art….The Japanese mafia tattoos were pretty amazing, I have to say, not to mention the Russian gulag tats.

But while that was really interesting, what drew the kids’ interest the most was the animal exhibit. This is Miles’ favorite part of the museum. It’s a zoo – kind of – every animal you can think of, all in close-up glass cages. Just like a zoo, except they’re all dead. None of that annoying running around so you can’t see them stuff – they stand perfectly still and you can really look at them. Some of them are 100 years old. Dead animals. I thought it was a little creepy, but the blue whale skeleton up on the ceiling was cool.

When I was a kid, going to the museum was a free thing, like going to the zoo or window shopping. We didn’t have to pay for that….and St. Louis had, at the time, one of the finest art museums and zoos in the country (I think they’re still right up there).  At any rate, we didn’t think too much about going, because it didn’t cost anything.  St. Louis kids all knew who Marlin Perkins was (and if you don’t, then shame on you, you obviously didn’t watch Wild Kingdom), because he worked at “our” zoo. The thought of going to see dead stuffed animals never entered my mind. You want to see a tiger in the winter? Watch Wild Kingdom.

I have neglected this blog a bit – mostly because I’ve been knitting (well, duh) and watching Shameless. (Virginia Wagner, you must tell Jim about it – it’ll be his new “Justified.”) Shameless is a Netflix series that takes place in Chicago – it stars William H. Macy, and every one of you Seattleites knows he’s “our” actor. We saw him in many Seattle Rep plays in the 80’s and early 90’s. It’s funny, black humor – but only because we all know (or think we do) a family that is just THIS close to being like this………watch it, but start with Season 1, Episode 1, or you won’t figure out what’s going on.

We have been immersed in bluegrass with Becky and her musician buddies. Last night we went with her to a “bluegrass jam” where about 16 professional musicians hang out and play together. Kind of like if you had Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain and Eric Clapton all hanging out in a bar with their guitars….okay, this is bluegrass, not rock, but there were a fair number of Grammys represented there last night.  Becky was the only female picker there, but it didn’t matter – no gender issues in bluegrass. She sang out loud and proud and the guys all cheered and sang along with her. 

Next week we’ll probably take off for Maine….watching the weather. Right now the Chicago weather is warming up – after snow yesterday we’ve got freezing rain today. At least the temperature has gone above 20, which is the first time since Christmas. Brrrrrrr.

Day ONE of 2017!

Happy New Year!

While Bob had to stay home with a crumby cold, I went out with Becky and her friend, Chuck, to a party/concert. That got "slashed" because it was, technically, a concert, for which we had tickets (bought several weeks ago, as it has been sold out since mid-December), but because these performers are friends of Becky's, it was more like a really fun party. The band we saw were The Henhouse Prowlers - a really, really fun group. They have their own genre - great bluegrass, but with a Chicago twist. Normally, when you hear "bluegrass," you think of people sitting around on hay bales, blowing into empty bottles, drinking 'shine and chewing hay. Yeah. Not so much. These guys dress in black suits, dark shirts (think John Belushi and the Blues Brothers) and sing "Chicago bluegrass." They have a great shtick. (They have just returned from a European tour for the State Department.) Last year they played in Seattle and we didn't go down - Becky even reminded us to go and we didn't. Our loss. Anyway, we had a really great time. After the performance, Becky and Chuck (who is a talented guitarist and singer) dropped me off and they went to the "after party" with the band. A great time was had by all.

I took a video of Becky and Chuck sitting around picking and singing, but it wouldn't send to my computer - too big a file, I guess. Anyway, it's been fun being inundated with bluegrass. I can now identify different songs....we went out on Friday to hear The Wandering Boys, a traditional bluegrass band with guys I remembered from Becky's music classes (they were teachers). We got waves and "hi, Rebecca!!" from them, which was fun. Chuck had a song dedicated to "our buddy Chuck" which happened to be a song I remembered, so we could all sing along. One of the good things about bluegrass is that you are expected to sing along, and since most people do, they can't hear me (and that makes everyone feel better).

We have the kids home with us all week, so we'll be hitting museums (The Field Museum has an exhibit on the history of tattooing, which sounds pretty interesting...you can get a temporary tattoo...Naomi thinks that sounds super cool. I do not.) I believe that ice skating is in our future this week, also....I plan to sit on the sidelines and cheer. :)

We have found a bar in town - The Brownstone - that is a Seahawks bar. It shows every game and would like patrons to come in blue and green. Niner fans are discouraged. :) We stopped in on Friday and the bartender gave me a pair of Seahawk gloves - because we're "real" Seattle fans. Evidently, Seahawk fans who are NOT from Washington state do not count as "real" at The Brownstone.

Go Hawks.

Pictures next time.