HONEYMOON. . . SOD (Part V)

In addition to what I have already mentioned (see Part IV), there were some sights that demanded a stop, such as Davey Byrnes Tavern (hangout of writer James Joyce), and the Gresham Hotel (where writer W.B. Yates had his daily tea). One evening was spent at the Abbey Hotel, where, after a fine meal, we joined a busload of American tourists to listen to an Irish band.

Near the Ha'Penny Bridge, so called for the toll one paid to walk over the River Liffy, was a Christian bookstore. We stopped in and had a long conversation with Manager Joe about his success.

After enjoying many tea times at the Gresham and Bewley Tea Shops, it was time to head north to visit relatives. We stopped at the border town of Newry for lunch, then decided to walk around the town. At that moment I spotted a squad of British soldiers - guns at the ready -
walking down the middle of the street. Two of them were facing forward and two facing backward. I said to dear wife, "Let's get out of here", and we did. This was during the time of the "Irish troubles" - the civil unrest between the Catholic South and the Protestant North. Twice we were stopped for a look at our papers, the third time they waved us through. Word got around as to our identity.

M, L.

HONEYMOON . . . SOD (Part 1V)

Continuing along the southern coast we visited a number of towns before arriving in the city of Cork, Ireland's second largest city. While there, we attended a Baptist church service and then toured the city, being sure to arrive at Blarney Castle to kiss the Blarney Stone (ask me about it).
From there we drove to Waterford to its tour showroom, to see crystal goblets being made in its factory; then on to Dublin.

We stayed at a B&B in the suburb of Bray, which allowed us to take a metro train into center city rather than using a car. The room was VERY SMALL, but livable. The first morning I stepped into the shower and RIGHT OUT AGAIN!! The landlady had neglected to tell us that we needed to feed quarters into the water meter to get hot water.

Dublin is a very cosmopolitan city. At this time it was beginning to attract foreign firms because of a well-edcuated populace that was willling and able to work; firms like IBM, FORD, DUPONT and others. Ther are members of my family who work for these corporations. It is a city of beautiful parks, museums, theatres, coupled with a lot of interesting history. Our first stop was at TRINITY COLLEGE, to see the BOOK OF KELLS, a ninth century, beautifully illustrated manuscript of the Christian Gospel. My late cousin, Robert Fisher, was a Trinity alumnus.

The one depressing sight in the city included children begging for money. Somehow that didn't seem to fit the picture of what that city should be.

More, later

HONEYMOON. . . SOD (Part III)

After leaving Balinasloe (see Part II), we headed southwest. Our first stop was at Thor Balleylee, an old Norman castle which was the home of renowned Irish poet, W.B. Yates.

After we climbed the tower that gave us a magnificent view of the countryside, we had our first in-between stop for Irish tea and brown bread.

Our trip continued through the city of Limerick and along the River Shannon, Ireland's longest waterway, noted for its trout fishing. We ended the day in the town of Tralee for our first experience in a B & B. Margaret Ryle, mother of nine, gave us a good night's lodging and a FULL IRISH BREAKFAST. That evening, we had fish (plaice) for dinner, at the Grand Hotel.

From Tralee, we headed to the seashore at Dingle Bay, by driving over a mountainous pass, the highest in Ireland. Heading away from Dingle we came across a public school. The children were playing in the yard so we walked up to the fence for conversation - with lots of rosey-cheeked youngsters, who spoke freely with us in their delightful Irish brogue. We learned from the nearby teacher that they were studying American geography, so when we arrived home I sent him some books and maps - courtesy of the AAA travel department.

More, later.

HONEYMOON...SOD (PART II)

The three days at Dromoland Castle were delightful. The staff excelled in making us comfortable, as well as offering advice. Margaret, our dining room waitress suggested to me, to "fatten her up so that no one else will want her!"

We took day trips which included the town of Adair - reportedly the prettiest town in Ireland with its thatched roofs. Another choice was to visit the CLIFFS OF MOHR, which stand 750 feet above the Atlantic Ocean. In absolute quiethness we could walk to the very edge to see and hear the roar of the surf and the plaintive cries of the sea gulls - momenets never to be forgotten. Located on the cliffs are the ruins of an O'Brien Clan castle.

Ireland has two distinct geographical areas. The central and west coast aareas are quite rural, while the east coast, including the capitol, Dublin, is more heavily populated and business-oriented.

Upon leaving Dromoland (somewhat reluctantly), we headed directly east to the Town of Balinasloe. It was a thrill to stand in its beautiful church, where my paternal grandparents, John Madden and Elizabeth Connor were married, in 1851 A.D. We will be returning to this town at another time to further explore my Irish heritage.

More, later.

PICTURES, PICTURES, PICTURES

Pictures to the right, pictures to the left, pictures on the walls, in albums, in folders and wallets; pictorial history at its best and dearest.

speaking of pictures, I recently opened a drawer full of them, and was surprised to find at the bottom of the pile, a set of long-forgotten pen and ink drawings given to me by an Austrian acquaintance, Ernst S____.

Back in '88, when I was in Austria (see EUROPEAN VACATION, PART II), I met Ernst through ra mutual friend. He had just retired from IBM Austria, and we bonded immediately when I told him about my 3M career. Large corporation people have a lot in common. We can discuss company policies, marketing ideas and so on - a camaraderie we enjoy, although we are competitors.

Ernst had obvious artistic skills to go along with his corporate experience. Because the print descriptions were written in German I had an Oakwood friend translate them for me. To my surprise the drawings which I thought were Venetian scenes were actually scenes of Venice, Italy -go figure.

I will have the prints framed to hang on the bedroom wall - a wall that is about full of family pics from Irish great-grandparents to my grandchildren: a comforting panorama.

More, later.

MISS BUBBLES

Granddaughter Whitney was/is as willing to talk as her sister Kelly, but in a somewhat different way.

I am sure that you young readers never saw a public "water bubbler." It was a fountain that keeps water coming out without the use of a lever or faucet of any sort - that is my Miss bubbles." As a youngster her lifestyle was to "bubble out" her thoughts in an energetic way, or in anything she did, like playing the "planyo" (piano), or the violin, and in her middle and high school years, excelling in the drama departments.

"Miss Bubbles was also quite at home on the soccer field, or as an adult, running marathons in downtown Chicago or Washington, D.C., her current home base.

It was wonderful to see her do so well at Loyola University, in Chicago and go into the nursing field. I fully agreed with her need to move in another direction when she did so.

After spending 3 years as the "Miss-Go-To person in a large Chicago church, she is blossoming (bubbling) in the grad program at George Washington University, in Washington, D.C.

Dear Granddaughter is a loving, caring person, whose "bubbling" to her grandparents via e-mail, or lengthy phone calls is like a drink of cool, clean water.

More, later.

P.S. Later we will talk about grandson Christopher (Buster Boy), and the newest grandson, granddaughter Kelly's husband.

"MISS k"

Mr. Webster defines nickname as "a substitute for a proper name."

I suppose that in most families individual nicknames make an early appearance (see WHAT WAS HER [HIS] NAME). I have written about granddaughter Kelly being called "Miss K" (see RESTAURANTS REMEMBERED PART II), because her deep question regarding "new babies in the family," showed an intellect to be respected and addressed accordingly.

Kelly began talking at an early age (see THE HOUSE ON SEMINARY), and was not bashful about speaking her thoughts - like calling her daddy Roger (he quickly squelched that!). On one occasion, with all of the grandparents in attendance, she decided to debate her father on a certain subject until he said that she had said enough. "But Daddy," brought banishment to her bedroom until she had "cooled it." The grandparents were unhappy about that, but sensed enough to keep quiet about the matter.

Miss "K" was an apt scholar, but showed little desire for team sports. I still remember one scene that really gave me a "kick." During a neighborhood soccer game, she and a friend stood in the middle of the field chatting away while the game went on around them!!

I was so proud of granddaughter's achievements in higher education at Marquette University, her smooth transition into the U.S. Navy - becoming a full lieutenant (nurse), and then on to marriage and a family.

Our granddaughter is loving, caring and always concerned about her grandparents' health needs, and ready to help us at a moment's notice. What more could one ask for or want than that?

More, later.

RESTAURANTS REMEMBERED (Part II)

While on vacation at the Outer Banks of North Carolina, (see OUTER BANKS) there were occasions where dining out was the thing to do.

I can recall one visit when all of the adults had ordered, granddaughter Kelly told the waiter, "I just love steak." I asked him to bring her some sort of a dish with some steak that would satisfy her. She got an adult platter! I could have shoved said platter right into his face, but didn't want to disappoint dear granddaughter, so I let it pass. I did manage to have steak and eggs for breakfast the next day.

After dear wife and I became engaged, and while baby-sitting, we took the children to dinner at FRIENDLYS. While we were eating, Kelly asked this deep question, "If you and DeeDee have children what would we call them? --grandsisters, or grandbrothers? I answered that we would call them miracles! The waitress taking our orders looked very perplexed. At that point, I decided that such an intellect shown by that question demanded a new name for granddaughter, so she became "Miss K."

Our meals were served and grandson Christopher got our attention by "throwing up" his dinner. After cleaning up the mess, and with Whitney's favorite clown sundaes finished, we headed for home. Master Christopher did a repeat performance in the car. DeeDee thought that he felt a "little warm," so the next morinig grandson and I headed for the doctor's office where a needle (not square), seemed to solve the problem.

More, later

RESTAURANTS REMEMBEERED

In our family history there are a number of restaurants worth remembering.

The first one was visiting a neighbohood restaurant with dear daughter-in-law. While in Richmond on business, I stopped at the Seminary Avenue address to say hello. Finding dear son away on business, it was only natural to have dinner with the "Mrs.," so we opted for the close-by location.

I cannot remember what we ordered, but as we sat eating, I looked across the place and saw a fat (obviously well-fed)mouse coming out from under the kitchen door. With our appetites somewhat diminished, we finished the meal in haste and left. It seems that mice and pregnant women are a real anathema to each other!

Without a doubt my grandchildren's favorite restaurant in the Richmond, Virginia area was the FRIENDLYS chain. We went there many, many times, and particularly when dear friend (later known as dear wife), and I were baby-sitting for out-of-town parents. There were two items ALWAYS ORDERED : Whitney ALWAYS had a grilled cheese sandwich, and, Kelly and Whitney both had clown sundaes for dessert. Grandson Christopher ate whatever was ordered for him.

Another favorite restaurant was in the Sheraton Hotel in Fredricksburg, Virginia. This was where two grandparents from McLean delivered, or received grandchildren from the Richmond grandparents. It was sort of like the old time Pony Express western station, except that the cargo was a lot more valuable.

More, later.

BABY SITTING

One of the joys of grand-parenting is baby-sitting (aka, doing what comes naturally). I cut my teeth on this delightful task at the Seminary Avenue home.

The first basic in baby-sitting is diaper-changing. In the old days it became an art if you could do the job without jabbing yourself (or the baby) with a pin while holding down the squirming body. In today's world you have the sticky tape to do the job. The day when baby graduates to panties is a hallelujah day, indeed.

The next basic is feeding time - when you face the challenge of feeding the baby something he or she doesn't like. Usually it becomes a game of "airplane," where you zoom the food around until baby starts to laugh. Then you make a lightening thrust into the aperture (aka the mouth). You must be alert to sidestep any spitting of food in your direction.

Progressing with age, you enter the book-reading or game-playing stage. I suppose I played a thousand games of CANDYLAND with my grandchildren and I am still doing it today with great-grandchildren! If you are outside, it's swing-pushing, sandbox-playing, floating in the pool or teaching bike-riding.

My first time alone with granddaughter Kelly was in McLean. Grandmother and parents took off to see some ballet at Wolf Trap Park and I was in charge. Kelly dutifully took her "bot," and went right to bed. I had become an expert!!

More, later.

THE OUTER BANKS

Without a doubt the Outer Banks of North Carolina is my favorite vacation spot. This may be because of early visits there in 1942 as a guest of Uncle Sam (see BOOT CAMP), although subsequent visits for family vacations put it in an even more favorable light.

The first time that dear son and his family were a part of our vacation group, there was just one grandchild in the family. I can still picture Kelly riding her tricycle on the motel pavement. Our favorite motel then, the Cavalier, is still in business, serving guests in the Kill Devil Hills area. For you history buffs, this is the location where the Wright brothers first flew off the sand dunes on December 10, 1912. Those same dunes are still there, and actively used by kite gliders.

The motel is located right on the beach, which means it is just a few steps to the gently rolling (most of the time) surf, making it easy to take "tiny tots" and all of the necessary equipment right onto the sand. Two of my favorite camera shots include one that I call "THE SISTERS," showing Kelly and Whitney posing on the motel steps. The other favorite shows Whitney sitting in the surf watching me surf-fish. Precious memories.

It seems that the grandchildren went to KDHs in birth order. First was Kelly, followed by Kelly and Whitney, followed by Kelly, Whitney and Christopher. I also have a sweet picture of Christopher getting a "tubby" in the motel washbasin.

More, later.

THE HOUSE ON SEMINARY AVENUE

I sure liked that house, and for a number of reasons, as follows:

The city of Richmond, Virginia has, to my mind, an elegance about itself. It probably exuded that same elegance back when it was the Capitol of the Confederacy. The signature boulevards, the well-built brick homes, its pace of life make it a really nice place to live.

When dear son, then a single man, bought the house on East Seminary Avenue, I was delighted. The avenue is well-lined with trees, is a quiet neighborhood, and the house itself was well-built - I mean, REALLY WELL-BUILT. I was amazed at the thickness of the beams holding up its slate roof. It was built of brick (of course), and had a good-sized, enclosed backyard. I contributed to the latter by building granddaughter Kelly a sandbox with strict instructions to lower the canvas roof each night to keep the cats away.

It was from there that I had the opportunity to walk granddaughter to preschool, at a nearby church, and occasionally play my guitar in the classroom. I didn't like the teacher, Mrs. Z_____, for being too strict with the youngsters, particularly those (shall I name one?), who talked too much in class!!

This beautiful home saw a wedding and was the birthplace of my three grandchildren -- precious memories.

More, later.

ADVERTISING SPECIALTIES

After my parting of the ways with my ACS account (ACSII), I needed some kind of work, preferably sales. I found it in the want ads of the Washington Post.

I saw an ad for an advertising specialties salesman. Do you know what advertising specialties are? Look at the ballpoint pen in your pocket with its name and slogans; the calendars in your home, the notepads you use. They are all specialties and there are literally thousands of them on which you can print your message. I applied for the job, and although I was not experienced in this field, my sales history convinced them to hire me.

The company which got this "lucky break," was run by an individual who had years of experience in the business and was well-established. I was successful from the start, in obtaining business, but had some problems with an inefficient office staff ; a portent of things to come.

On one occasion I had worked hard to receive a $30,000 order from a non-profit organization that was holding its annual meeting in Hawaii. Two weeks before the order was to be delivered I asked ther office to clarify the deliuvery dates, and they COULD NOT FIND THE ORDER!! I left the company.

I found a similar specialties company located in Charlottesville, VA , who needed a Northern Virginia representative, and I worked for them until dear wife and I moved to Wisconsin.

More, later.

MY FRENCH AMI

On the previous blog (EUROPEAN VACATION-CONCLUSION) I wrote about visiting the French friends I had first met when traveling overseas to meet dear daughter (A SAD, SAD DAY-CONCLUSION).

When I boarded the Air France flight at Dulles International Airport, I began a conversation with the French man and his wife, seated next to me. The man and I talked most of the way across the water. Upon arrival at DeGaulle International Airport, we were met by dear daughter. The new acquaintances invited us to visit them in their city, Besancson. This proved to be beneficial because our travel plans included that city. We enjoyed three days of sightseeing there.

J___P___was the lead cardiologist at the local hospital. Every year he attended the American Medical Association as a French representative. After attending three such meetings he was invited to present a paper, and from then on made a yearly presentation. He considered it quite an honor to do so. If the meeting was in Washington, D.C., he always allowed time to visit me in my McLean home.

One year, I took him to a college footbaall game in Charlottesville, Virginia. When I asked him what impressed him most about the evening, he said that it was seeing the people standing, with hats off, while our National Anthem was played and our flag raised.

Now you have met J___P___. We have continued our friendship these many years, via e-mail, talking mostly about French wines and American politics.

More, later.

EUROPEAN VACATION (conclusion)

I arrived in Florence, Italy, late in the day and was met by my missionary friends. Because their apartment was a one-bedroom, they had made arrangements for me in a nearby small hotel, which was directly across the street from the museum that housed Michaelangelo's DAVID.

The next three days were spent sightseeing while dodging the thousand (so it seemed) mopeds that sped around the city. I did some sightseeing on my own, some with my friends, and also met many of their co-workers.

I insisted on taking them to dinner one evening and asked N____ to select the restaurant. She chose one that had an excellent reputation, although they had never dined there.

The restaurant was in a good location and beautifully appointed. N____took one look at the menu and became extremely embarrassed, as it was VERY EXPENSIVE. They wanted to leave but I insisted that we stay and enjoy the meal. I'm not sure that they did.

The last leg on my trip took me to Besancon, France, where I stayed with the French friends I had met on my first trip overseas (A SAD, SAD DAY - CONCLUSION). Read about them in my next blog.

More, later.

EUROPEAN VACATION (Part II )

My next train took me to Vienna, Austria to visit another MBC family of five. I had a grand time with the B____s, visiting the beautiful sights in the city, and absorbing the Austrian culture. I have stayed close to this family since we first met at MBC, in '74, and have enjoyed keeping up with them. When they first visited us in McLean for dinner, their son, a two-year-old, saw the food on his plate and asked his mother, "Mommy, do I like this?" "Yes, of course," she said, and he dug away at it.

I left Vienna for Florence, Italy, to visit another missionary couple who was associated with the same organization as my dear son.

The train ride was through the mountains that join Auatria and Italy. The scenery was gorgeous! In my coach was a non-communicative couple from Texas. Boarding at one of the stops were three Italian foilks who proceeded to open their picnic basket and began eating some luscious-looking salami and cheeses. One of the women (Marguerite), sliced open a good-looking peach and was biting into it when the train came to an abrupt halt. The peach stone loosened and fell down the neck of her dress! At first she didn't know what to do, but her companions began to laugh and so did I. Somehow, Marguerite managed to reclaim the stone without a problem. What a riot!!

More, later.

EUROPEAN VACATION

In '85 I took a trip to Europe. Included in the trip were visits to missionary friends in Germany, Austria and Italy, and friends in France. Upon arriving in Paris, I began traveling by train across the continent, after visiting my favorite European city, Paris. This was my first go-it-alone trip and I deemed it a real adventure.

Paris was beautiful, as usual. One of my favorite things to do was to locate, with help from the hotel concierge, small, neighborhood restaurants for fine dining at a reasonable price.

Paris abounded with signs warning of pickpockets. I kept my money and important papers in a money belt, but wanted to test the crooks. One morning I boarded the Paris Metro subway wearing my raincoat with a few francs in a pocket. At one of the stops a man brushed by me, excused himself, and left the car. Sure enough, I felt in my pocket for the francs and they were gone.!!

After Paris, I boarded a train for Mulheim, Germany, to visit a young missionary supported by MBC. L____ and her partner were so happy to see me. We talked non-stop for two days, although I found time to by twin dresses for my granddaughters. L____and friend were leaving for a vacation in Italy and wanted me to visit them there, which I planned to do.

More, later.

CARS

THE NOVA

Dear son and family had a small red NOVA. While staying with the family one time(son was traveling), I had occasion to go to the store, so took granddaughter Kelly along for the ride. I was having trouble getting the car into reverse to back out of the driveway. Each time I had the car in what I thought was the right gear, the car would move forward. "PopPop," said granddaughter, "We're supposed to be going backward." "I know dear," I said, "But I can't get the damn thing into reverse." "Oh, PopPop," she said, "You just said a bad word." Out of the mouth of babes. . .

THE MERCURY

One day while driving from Northern Virginia to Richmond, just south of the Springfield exit, I was hit by a large tractor-trailer, who crossed into my righthand lane, spun the car around, and into the medium strip. The truck driver stopped and apologized, saying that he never saw me in his mirror. Of course his company paid for the repairs.

After the car was repaired I decided to sell it. A yound Muslim (so he offered), made me the right offer and we went to the DMV to transfer the title. The DMV wanted an insurance policy from him but he didn't have the money, so I paid it for him with his promise of repayment. I never saw him or the money again.

More, later.

WEEKEND DATE

An absence of grandparents in my life left me with only one, an American grandfather. I never saw my Irish grandparents, and my American grandmother (from an Irish family ), died before I reached the age of three. My grandfather was not tuned into his grandchildren's lives (perhaps it was because he had 35 of them!), and so I had few opportunities to know him well, although I was one of the very few that paid any attention to him.

All of this to say that I was determined early on, to be a different kind of grandfather - one that would be involved in my grandchildren's lives, and so it has been.

One time I proposed a weekend date with my two granddaughters (grandson not yet born), and it was accepted. I drove to Richmond, then we took the train north to the Washington, D.C. area. We left the train at Alexandria and took a cab to the Key Bridge Marriott, in Arlinngton, just across the Potomac River from Georgetown.

We had the best time. After Saturday morning breakfast we went to the pool where I played the role of the GREAT WHITE SHARK coming after tender, young flesh. A nice lunch at poolside was followed by a nap. We had dinner in the motel and then took a walk through downtown Arlington.

Sunday morning, after breakfast, we went back into the pool, watched some TV until lunchtime, then back onto the traian for Richmond. FUN! FUN!!

More, later.

MY PARENTS (Part II)

As referred to in my previous blog (MY PARENTS), my aging parents' physical deterioration brought me to decision-time once more.

My first decision, for safety reasons, was to separate Dad from his car; not an easy task. When that happened, Dad became depressed. "Might as well be dead," he said. The next decision was brought about by my mother's poor eyesight. She was still cooking meals and counting their daily pills (although they seldom took them regularly). I was afraid that she would forget to turn off the stove and cause much harm to themselves and their neighbors.

All of these concerns disappeared when they agreed to enter a near-by nursing home. It was a clean, well-run organization and offered programs that they could enjoy.

On one of my visits to the home, Dad confided in that "This place is run by the Mafia - these guys walk around in dark suits and keep checking on things." I think I convinced him that they were probably state health inspectors.

I knew that their days were numbered. Even so, I wasn't prepared for the call I received in April of '87, while with dear son's family (he was traveling), that Mother had died. I can still see my dear daughter-in-law and granddaughter Kelly giving me consolation hugs; that was so helpful.

Dad died in early December. I felt these losses very much.

More, later.

MY PARENTS

One of the things I was able to do during this interregnum was visit my parents, John (called Jack) and Agnes Jane ( called Jane), frequently. This was a real bonus for me. Living apart for so many years, I could only keep in touch by phone or mail, plus the occasional wintertime vacation visits to Florida. Beginning in '73, I wrote to them every week, with the latest family news, as sort of a "tie that binds," if you will.

Dad retired in 1956, in New Jersey. He and Mom bought a small house in Hollywood, Florida, in the neighborhood where mother's three sisters and spouses were living. I was so glad to see them make this move because it brought them close together again - a reminder of those early years in the century when, one by one, they left Ireland and settled on our east coast.

After about twenty-six years of living in Florida, with summertime visits to New Jersey, they decided to return north, permanently. My sister located an apartment close to her, which was a blessing. They were so happy to be near family and their extended family (I had 32 cousins) for family reunions.

This closeness allowed me to watch them carefully for signs of slowing down, which began about one year after their relocation.. How thankful I was to be on hand to make the right decisions that would insure their happiness with proper care.

More, later.

HONEYMOON ON HOLD

While I was contemplating a line-up of future blogs, it dawned on me that there was a space of about 4 years (March, '84 until April, '88), where I did little or no reporting about my interaction with my family. So, I decided to put the honeymoon story on hold and work on some "family happenings" during this period.

CAR FOR SALE (cheep!)

After dear wife's death there was no need for me to have two cars so I sold my AMC Gremlin to the MBC youth pastor for $1.00, as his growing family could use a second car. I took the car to the church and reminded him that he needed to get his own plates, but that I would leave mine on the car until he could get to the DMV and make the change, then destroy my plates. That was A BIG MISTAKE. About one month later I got a "greetings" from the Washington, D.C. police, with a ticket for overtime parking. Soooooo, I took the ticket and went to the pastor's house. There was my former car, sitting there with MY PLATES on it. After a short lecture on responsibility, he and I got into the Gremlin and went to the DMV where I paid for his new plates. On the spot, we made the change and I took my old plates home. He was left with the ticket to pay, so , the car actually cost him $36.00!!!

More, later.

HONEYMOONING ON THE OLD SOD

Our flight from New York City to Shannon, Ireland, went smoothly. Our first views of the country showed plenty of green which was expected. As I mentioned in my previous blog (ALLRIGHT, ALREADY), May 1, 1988 proved to be a VERY UNUSUAL DAY!

We landed smoothly at Shannon Airport, but OUR LUGGAGE WENT TO DUBLIN! "No problem," said the Aer Lingus staff, "We'll have it here in a jiffy." Sure. So, after getting minimal instruction on how to drive on the left side of the road, we headed for Dromoland Castle, an hour's drive away.

What a beautiful castle and what a warm welcome we received. We rested in front of our first peat fire before getting to our room. That evening we had a fine Irish seafood dinner - and off to bed IN OUR UNDIES!! My luggage arrived the next morning and dear wife's the same evening.

Our dinnertime entertainment was a young colleen named Maureen, who played the harp and sang Irish melodies. At sixteen years of age she was saving money for her college education. She had interest in the history of the Irish Brigade (U.S. Civil War), so when I arrived home, I sent her some Civil War sheet music.

After breakfast the next morning, and with a fine mist falling, we donned raincoats for a walk in the beautiful gardens. Emmon the gardner greeted us with "It's a beautiful soft morning, isn't it?" We were in Ireland for sure.

More, later.

ALLRIGHT ALREADY *

Bowing to the wishes of my reading public (aka the fam), I will continue my storytelling, but on a more limited basis. O.K.?
APRIL 30, 1988
The BIG DAY was here. Henry and Joy were united in marriage at the Huguenot Road Baptist Church in Richmond, Virginia. Co-pastors, Lon Solomon (McLean Bible Church, Virginia) and John Ware (Hillcrest Baptist Church - Oklahoma) officiated at the ceremony.

Having sold my home in McLean, Virginia, I moved in with dear daughter for two and one half months, with all of my furniture, which became her furniture.

Joy planned the wedding/reception and I planned our three-week honeymoon trip to Ireland.
April 30th was a beautifully sunny Saturday. Our wedding party consisted of our five grandchildren. Joy was able to find four matching dresses for the girls, who carried flowers, while our grandson, the ring bearer, looked handsome in his blazer and trousers.

Everything went off without a hitch. The buffet and cake were beautiful and our time at the microphone, wearing our Irish headpieces, was a blast.

Our Oklahoma children drove us to the Richmond airport where we enplaned to Ireland, via New York City.

May the first was a VERY UNUSUAL DAY, to say the least.

More, later.

* A Jewish expression meaning: O.K., I heard you, and I'ill do it (or, I agree).

THE END (sort of)

In as much as you, dear readers know "the rest of the story" (how my life changed with my marriage to Joy Hall, on April 30, 1988), it is time to conclude blogging about my life; blogging that began on April 8, 2009, with the story of how a certain five-year-old bit into a juicy worm that was making its home inside a plump, red tomato.

I intend to continue blogging, but not along story lines. Instead, I will be commenting (with a 90- year-old slant) on the news of the day. At this writing, I am considering segmenting the news under headings such as government, sports, politics and items of general interest about life as it surrounds us. Keep watching.

MORE OUTREACH

In a previous blog (Reaching Out), I talked about reaching out, as a volunteer, to international people here in the U.S., for a variety of reasons. I was involved in volunteering on the domestic scene as well.

About three miles from my home in McLean was an elementary school. Like most of the schools in our country, there is a constant need for volunteers, and this school was no exception. I called the school to sign up "as needed" and they needed reading helpers. I moved from one class to another, three times a week, enjoying every minute of it.

In one of the third grade classes I met a youngster named R___. He had just arrived from a South American country with his diplomat parents and siblings, he being the oldest child in the family. R____ had never been exposed to the English language, so you can imagine his predicament.

R____and I became buddies. With his parents' approval I would take him to the Tysons Corner shopping center on a Saturday. We would walk around looking in the store windows to see new words, then we would have lunch so he could learn words from the menu. It was soooooooo enjoyable for me to see how quickly he could grasp new words and ideas, and, of course, it was a great boost for him in school.

Another meaningful volunteering opportunity for me was at the CENTRAL UNION MISSION, A Christian organization dedicated to reaching the poor in Washington, D.C. There I taught a basic literacy course to men.

More, later.

POP POP THE STORY-TELLER

In my status as a widower I was always looking for something to occupy my time, and one day I found such a treasure. A Washington Post notice from the Smithsonian Institute, advertising basic story-telling training struck me that it was something I could do.

To make a long story short, three weeks to the day after answering the ad, I found myself heading to Boone, North Carolina, to the campus of Appalachian State College, for a three-week course in story-telling. I had with me my newly-purchased guitar, along with a learn-to-do-it -yourself book that guaranteed success.

I found myself the only man in the course, with 13 women, all of them either teachers or librarians. It was a wonderful experience for me to listen to an engaging professor who knew her field so well. She made story-telling come alive to us and I figuratively ate it up. She gave me an "A" for the course, which I graciously accepted.

Upon returning home, I knew that as a genuine story-teller, I needed a good guitar teacher. I found one right in McLean, VA. In about a month I was "ready to go," ready to share my talents with the world!

The world, at that moment, happened to be a Montessori School, about a quarter of a mile from my home. Their acceptance of me was the beginning of about four years of happy times with school children, including my grandchildren.

More, later.

ENJOYING THE OUTDOORS

Since my early boyhood days I was always nominated to "do the yard work," which included mowing the lawn, trimming the hedges and so on.

While living in Harrisburg, my family surprised me with the birthday gift of a Sears riding mower. It was a good choice, for I used it for several years. Like most Sears products, it was reliable and useful. When I would get the news that dear son and his family were coming to visit, I would get the mower ready for "joy-riding" with granddaughter #1. She would ride with me as I mowed, surreptitiously throw my hat onto the lawn, and try to pick up same as we went around. Such fun!

In addition to readying the mower, I always decorated the driveway with small American flags as a welcome sign. They were a compliment to the large flag I flew daily from a 20 foot flagpole, a gift to me from dear daughter.

The smell of the freshly mowed lawn, the aroma of flowers, the enjoyment of family participation and the time to sit under the shady trees are an everlasting memory to me.

More, later.

A SAD, SAD, SAD DAY (conclusion)

The days after Lumberton became a blur. I was so thankful for the support of dear son and family. Dear daughter, teaching in France, flew home immediately. Arrangements were made for viewing, followed by a service in the McLean Bible Church. Following the service, dear wife was buried in a cemetery, about one hour's drive from our home. I will never forget the people singing Ruth's favorite hymn, IVORY PALACES, at the graveside.

In retrospect, I would say that it took about one year to adjust to my new life. I was thankful to have a work schedule to occupy my time, as well as visits to dear son and his family, in Richmond, VA, and visits to the grave site. Often I would come home expecting to see my dear wife, smiling, only to realize, as I entered the driveway, that she was not there. Over time the situation eased.

Later in the month, I flew to Europe to spend dear daughter's vacation time with her. It was a wonderful two weeks of being in "another world," you might say.

In the Scriptures, the Apostle Paul told the believers in Corinth that "the God of all comfort comforts us in all of our troubles so that we, in turn, can comfort those in trouble, with the comfort we receive from God (II Corinthians 1:3, 4, 7). Many times I have been guided by those words to help others because of what I have experienced in my lifetime.

More, later.

A SAD, SAD DAY (continued)

At the end of our last week in Florida, we had a decision to make. Should we drive home or fly home? Our dear son and some of our church friends volunteered to come to Florida and drive us home, or, if we decided to fly, would drive our empty car home. What a blessing such thoughtfulness was to us. Ruth felt well enough to drive, so we opted to do so, stopping overnight in Palm Coast to visit friends.

After our two-day visit, we started quite well, but later in the day Ruth began complaining of weakness, so I made a decision to stop at the nearest hospital which happened to be in Lumberton, North Carolina. I am glad that I did.

When the hospital prognosis was alarming, I called our son. He and his family left immediately for Lumberton, arriving the next day. Words cannot express how relieved I felt when they arrived. Meanwhile, our church had been alerted and a dear fellow elder and his wife came to Lumberton, traveling by public transportation, and were there with us during that night.

That long night ended with dear wife's demise early the next morning and with it, the shattered dreams of a long retirement with the woman I loved. With saddened hearts we left Lumberton with my fellow elder driving my car.

Arriving home late that afternoon, I was met by our pastor and several church members, desiring to assist me.

More, later.

A SAD, SAD DAY

That day was March 1, 1984, when my dear wife, Ruth, went to be with the Lord. It was a day of tremendous shock to me and my family. Although she had a history of high blood pressure, and was under the care of a doctor, the seriousness of her condition was not made known to me at that time. If I had known the facts, our retirement lives might have been somewhat different.

When I did retire from the corporate world, I anticipated many years of togetherness to enjoy our home, our growing family, and opportunities to travel. We did travel to Florida during the winter months and that was pleasant to both of us. Do you know what northerners do when they travel "thataway?" In the morning, after breakfast, they sit around the motel pool talking about the winter up north, then it is time for a light lunch, followed by a nap. Later in the day, they travel to the restaurant that offers the best "early bird apecial" meal. Back to the motel for some T.V. watching and off to bed, exhausted.

Near the end of our second week, dear wife had a relapse of sorts, but after a trip to the emergency room, all appeared to be O.K. We did move to a first floor apartment, which pleased her immensely.

More, later.

ACS (PART II)

The company with whom I had contacted made a unique product for hospitals. It was a bed sheet made of cotton to replace polyester sheets made at that time. The cotton sheets were less expensive to buy, to launder, were longer lasting and more patient- friendly. The company's catalog said all of these things, but evidently the federal hospitals were not reading it.

I spent the better part of four years introducing these cotton products to federal and private hospitals on the east coast. Veterans Administration hospitals were my primary target, followed by military hospitals. This satisfying relationship came to an end when the firm decided to accept a buyout from a Canadian corporation, and I declined to become a part of the package. This was really the end of ACS as a viable working company.

One ACS call that I made during those years is etched in my memory. That day, I made arrangements to take dear daughter-in-law and two granddaughters with me to the Virginia peninsula. They were going to visit friends while I made some calls. On the way to their destination I stopped at a V.A. hospital and took granddaughter #1 with me to make the call. When we met the purchasing agent I introduced her as my assistant and he shook hands with her. In my briefcase I had some crayons and a coloring book, so granddaughter sat at one corner of the desk, coloring, while the agent and I talked business. I'll bet you that he talked about us for years!

More, later.

ANDERSON CONSULTING SERVICES

On September 1, 1982, ACS became an active corporation. All I needed were clients and I knew just where to find them.

In a previous blog (HOW WASHINGTON WORKS), I mentioned that the federal General Services Administration (GSA), the purchasing arm for federal civilian agencies with whom we negotiated early contracts. GSA negotiates THOUSANDS OF contracts with corporations and companies, and that is where I would find my clients. Many of these small companies were getting very little business through the contracts and I knew why. They would be the targets for using ACS services.

The answer to lack of business was very simple. Even though they had contracts and expected TONS of business, it just wasn't happening. What they didn't realize was that the contract was a tool to get them in the agency door, but they still had to sell said agencies on the product advantages, and that is where I would come in. I would go from agency to agency, with product (s) in hand, demonstrate the advantages of same and ask for an order.

So, I selected about 100 small companies from the GSA records (it's public information, you know), and put my trusty typewriter to work with an introductory letter and offer. Within a few weeks I had 30 small company prospects.

However, I soon discovered that most of these prospects were reluctant to meet my requirements of an upfront meeting, at their expense, and a deposit for starters. I did meet with one small Connecticut firm, a father/son outfit, in Washington. We both liked what we heard, a check was produced and ACS was in business.

More, later.

RETIRE? WHO? ME?

Why do you suppose that a person would want to retire from an active business career at age 62? I am not sure that I can answer that question, but I can tell you that I did just that! Yep. September1, 1982 was the BIG DAY that I left my office as a retiree.

It may be that some pre-retirement action paved the way to that day, and here is how it happened. Early in the year, I told dear wife that when I retired from my corporate position, I intended to form a consulting service. As you probably know, the Washington area is FULL of consultants and lobbyists, so another one would not sink the ship. She seemed rather cool to the idea.

That spring I engaged a law firm, friends of mine, to draw up the necessary papers to form a corporation. Lo and behold, in one month the ANDERSON CONSULTING SERVICES (ACS) was born and ready to swing into action at retirement time.

One day, early in June of '82, my department head came into my office to inform me that a corporate fax had just come in and perhaps I should take a look at it. It was a corporate retirement offer addressed to managers at my level. It seemed to have plenty of incentives to make consideration of retirement attractive.

I took it home to dear wife to discuss, and by July 1st we had made the decision to accept the offer.

More, later.

REACHING OUT

Early in our time in McLean, we became involved in volunteering with the Washington Tourist Bureau's International Home Visits Program. This was to answer the desire of overseas visitors to visit an American home. We would pick them up at their hotel, give them a meal and a tour of our home, and then return them to the hotel.

It was our aim to serve a typical American meal. For example: if it was summertime, the guests would enjoy hot dogs with rolls, potato salad, ears of corn, sliced tomatoes and condiments, with watermelon for dessert. During the winter, the meal would consist of roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy, mixed vegetables and a home-baked pie for dessert. The guests loved everything about their visit.

We hosted visitors from Europe, Asia and the Islands of the Sea. One visit was as memorable as one can imagine, and it happened this way! Dear son and family were assisting me as we hosted four men from India. After dinner, my dear daughter-in-law excused herself in order to give the granddaughters a "tubby," while we adults retired to the living room for some conversation. Suddenly, granddaughter #2, at age two, streaked into the living room, stark naked, and climbed into the lap of one of the visitors!! The room EXPLODED with laughter while an embarrassed mother took daughter back to the bedroom.

More, later.

MCLEAN BIBLE CHURCH

In my previous blog (Tysons Corner), I mentioned MBC and its location near PBC, on the Leesburg Pike. It is a story in itself.

The story began in a previous blog (Finding a Church), when dear wife and I became members. MBC had about 400 members and, like PBC, was ideally located at the Washington Beltway and Georgetown Pike. At that time MBC was considering an expansion program of its own which would double the seating capacity. The consideration became an actuality and we joined just in time to help pay for it.

Although the increased size of the building was beneficial, the Board of Elders sensed some problems between the congregation and the senior pastor and, after much deliberation decided that a change was necessary. Eventually we invited a young man who was teaching at a local Bible seminary and he accepted the offer to be our pastor.

With a new pastor in the pulpit, church attendance began to grow and the church kept adding services. Because of land restrictions there was no room to enlarge the current structure, so a move was necessary.

At Leesburg Pike and Lewnisville Road, the National Wildlife Federation had a very large building compound, but needed to expand and was looking to move. MBC bought their land and buildings and continued to increase. Today, there are THOUSANDS of people using its facilities weekly under the leadership of the same young man that was hired many years ago.

More, later.

TYSONS CORNER

When dear wife Ruth and I moved to McLean, Virginia, we lived about two miles from the T. C. Center. It was not much of a center although it consisted of a department store and several adjacent , smaller stores. It was sufficient, however, for dear wife's shopping needs. Its location was ideal as it was at the intersection of the Washington Beltway and Leesburg Pike.

Right in the middle of the Center was the Providence Baptist Church, with a congregation of about 400 people. As the T.C. developers had eyes on expansion, the church was inhibiting those plans. Can you guess what happened?

Right. The developers bought the church land, demolished the church building and built the congregation a brand new building, westward on the Leesburg Pike, about a quarter of a mile from our home. Rumor was that the deal was about one million dollars, plus a church building, built for free!!

Today, the P.B.C. and McLean Bible Church face each other at a major intersection on the Pike (the McLean story will be another blog).

Back to Tysons Corner: today it is a HUGH metroplex of stores and offices, and considered one of the premier shopping centers on the east coast. Much of its growth was brought about by a growing population that includes a very large international community.

More, later.

THE NEIGHBORHOOD

Our McLean neighborhood had a group of neighbors with varied backgrounds. Because our street was a closed-end street, we were able to know all of the families in a more personal way. On our nightly walks we usually met one or more of them for a short chat. Two of the neighbors were connected with foreign embassies and one was a highly-placed individual, in our government, so high that he commanded a chauffeur-driven car for transportation!!

The neighbors behind us were a middle-aged couple. He was a retired army colonel - a friendly and helpful guy. His wife was just the opposite. One never knew whether our friendly "hello" would elicit a response or be ignored.

The neighbors to our north were a young British couple with young children. We saw very little of them. Our southern neighbors were an elderly couple. F___ and I___ who were very southern and outgoing. He was an avid gardener while she spent her time as a leader in the Southern Baptist Women's Association.

The neighbors with whom we interacted the most were a Chinese family with three children. He was a physician (GP) and she was a homemaker. They had an outdoor pool which I was invited to use at any time, and which I did frequently, especially when my grandchildren came for a visit.

More, later.

FAMILY GROWTH

By the time we had moved to McLean (see HOUSE HUNTING), our two adult children were gainfully employed. Dear daughter was a school teacher and dear son was in Christian work. Both of them have sustained their careers in distinguished fashion to the point that dear daughter is now enjoying retirement years, while dear son might be near that nirvana (I think). Dear daughter has remained single while her brother has done otherwise.

Dear son had just made a location change in Virginia, from Norfolk to Richmond, moving from one apartment to another. I mentioned to him that the price he was paying for apartment rental was enough to buy his own home. Sure enough, he followed through on that idea and soon became a proud home owner.

It was a pretty home, in a charming neighborhood; a well-built house, with a slate roof and a fenced-in back yard. Quaint Richmond has a lot of houses like that. Now he had plenty of rooms to fill, and all he needed was the right person for such a start (if you know what I mean).

Sure enough, he met that person while working in the western part of the state. Then he found out that they belonged to the same church in Richmond, and now you know the rest of the story.

More, later.

FINDING A CHURCH

As was our custom, once settled into a home, it was time to find a place of worship. Following our usual procedure, we opened the wolley segap* and began listing those whose names had appeal; the next steps would be actual Sunday visits.

During our visits we would be analyzing the preaching, the order and completeness of the service, the warmth of the congregation toward visitors, the buzz, if any, of activity and the size of the buildings.

After several visits, we chose the McLean Bible Church as our new church home. It was located at the intersection of Georgetown Pike and the Washington Beltline, about a ten minute drive from our home. The church was six years old and had a congregation of about 400 people.

As our years of being "built-up in the faith" would prove, MBC was the right choice. We soon became engaged in areas of service including serving on the mission's committee, the childrens' ministry, a senior citizen's group and the elder board.

MBC was my first elder-ruled church and I was in complete agreement with its operation and doctrinal statement. In our fourth year there, I was nominated to be an elder, was elected, and served many years thereon. The years at MBC proved to be the years of most sporitual growth in my Christian life.

*yellow pages.
More, later.

HOME OFFICE ADVANTAGE

After some time into the job I began a program that involved our home office in St. Paul, Minnesota, and that was inviting and escorting groups of state government customers to our home office complex. It started with a flight from the customer's capitol location in one of our company planes for a two-day trip to inform, wine and dine them as our thanks for their business.

During the flight we would go over the program, thus giving them an opportunity to formulate questions about our products. The program consisted of a presentation of the Company's marketing philosophies, product demonstrations, conversations with Company executives and a visit to the Company store, to buy products at employee prices. That evening the wining and dining would take place.

One of these special places was a fantastically beautiful inn situated along a river bank and built with Scandinavian design. The inn had a special room for groups, a room whose walls were wood-carved in three dimensional mountain scene designs. Food and wine flowed generously into the night. Believe me when I tell you that this was always a special treat for me no matter how many times I made the visit. The next-day's meetings were scheduled for a late start for obvious reasons, then back home to the state capitol and normal routines

More, later.

FLY BOY

I mentioned in my previous blog (NOTHING ROUTINE) that I could drive to some nearby state capitols, but most of my trips were by plane to distant locations.

To make the most of these long trips, I planned to be at a location for three ore four days. Then I could spend time with the manager, attend a sales meeting or two, and work with the local sales people who called on government accounts. Occasionally we would get on-the-spot orders that really boosted the sales people and my relationship with the entire local team ("y'all come back, y' hear?").

One meeting that I really cherished during these times was taking the local manager and his wife to dinner. It was such a relaxing time for all of us, talking about our career moves (and possible future ones), our families, and at the same time puzzling over recent company rumors. It was a sort of "letting our hair down," in a confidential "brotherhood" way.

I remember one occasion in particular, when a dear couple told me they had found out that very day that he had a medical report showing early signs of dementia. They asked me to keep it confidential until they could report it to the Company ; of course I did.
We went back to their home and talked further into the night about their future, and I prayed with them as I left with a heavy heart.

More, later.

NOTHING ROUTINE

As I settled into my job I realized that no two days would be the same. The state government situations which once plagued my manager would now be mine. Was I equal to the task?

It didn't take long to answer that question. Somewhere in this great land of ours, this land of "amber shining grains, majestic purple mountains or fruited plains," there was a sales manager with a problem. Often it could be resolved over the phone or by a letter of authorization, but there were times when my on-the-job presence was needed, so I would hop into my car, or into a plane to get the job done.

I can still remember one notable occasion when an on-location was needed, and it happened this way: I received a phone call one cold February day from a specialist with a problem. He was having trouble with a large city in New York State who wanted to use the state contract but who wanted to "bend the terms" to suit themselves (definitely a no-no). Would I help him? Of course I would. Could I meet with him the next day, a Friday? "Sure."

The next morning I left Washington on a 7:00 a.m. plane, arriving at said city at 9:00 a.m. We met with city officials, resolved the problems, obtained a signed contract, deed done. At 11:30 a.m., in a heavy snowstorm, I was on a plane bound for Washington.

More, later.

MY JOB DESCRIPTION

In my previous blog (HOW WASHINGTON WORKS), I described the contracting aspect of doing business with the Federal Government. My job was to assist our company offices around the country contract with state governments, often using the federal GSA contracting agreements as negotiating tools.

This was a new job in the department and I was thrilled to be the catalyst for it. It was incumbent upon me to set their procedures under which I, and my successors, would work. The Company had offices in every state capitol, some directly owned and others owned by independent business people (dealers). In each situation I was responsible to see that the state contracting pricing did not undercut the federal prices. For instance, if a state contract was negotiated to sell $1.00 widgets (the federal price) for $0.95, the federal price automatically dropped to the lower price. That would be costly to our company.

Assisting me around the country were eight government specialists who worked daily with our offices and used my services as a staff person. We met quarterly as a group, either in Washington or in a state capitol of my choosing. I traveled with each of them individually to negotiate contracts, and often traveled to a state capitol to work with sales people, a part of my job that I enjoyed the most.

More, later.

HOW WASHINGTON WORKS

In a previous blog (ANOTHER MOVE) I mentioned having Company visitors in Harrisburg who were interested in my relationship with state government customers. That was the key to the job offer that took me to Washington, D.C.

It is very important that any sizeable corporation in our country have representation in Washington, either by a lobbyist group or by establishing a corporate office there. My company chose the latter (although it had some lobbyists). We occupied three floors in an office building on 15th N.W., directly across from the Washington Post building.

Our office housed a resident vice-president and people who represented the corporation's many divisions and particular product lines. My office represented contracting with the federal government - both in its civilian and military departments. For instance, one of our men assisted corporate personnel calling on Army bases around the country, using our contracting instruments as the selling tools.

My immediate boss was responsible for negotiating contracts with the federal General Services Administration (GSA). After each successful negotiation (prices and terms agreed upon), the government printed booklets and distributed them to all of its agencies to use as a buying tool.

Many state governments wanted to use the federal contracting catalogues for their own use, and that is where I came into the picture.

More, later.

THE AURA OF WASHINGTON, D.C.

It is difficult to put into words about how quickly I fell in love with the D.C. area. It is one thing to visit an area, enjoy what it has to offer, then leave it - as compared with working in the same area day after day. In Washington, I literally soaked up its history, its magnificent buildings and its beautiful monuments and parks.

Soaking up for me meant spending my lunch times (when not already committed), walking the "K street corridor," or to Pennsylvania Avenue, to gaze at its buildings and enjoy the views from the White House to the Capitol itself. Perhaps it meant a bus ride along Constitution Avenue to see the malls and monuments and people gathering around each of them.

I have two favorite monuments. One is the Lincoln Memorial. I cannot tell you how many times I stood entranced as I read the President's second Inaugural address, and those magic words, "....with malice toward none..." and "to care for him who shall have borne the battle..."

My second favorite memorial is the Vietnam Memorial. It was built while I was working in the District. I didn't know what to expect on my first visit, but when I got there and saw those thousands of names inscribed thereon, all I could do was cry.

I suppose one could say that I am a "history nut." That's why my present-day reading revolves around history - all kinds of history, including my U.W. textbooks!

More, later.

HOUSE HUNTING

During my second week on the job, I spent time choosing an area in which to find a home. For some reason, Virginia seemed to have the most appeal, so that decision was made. My primary need was to be near public transportation. I had parking privileges in the office building but it was not a "freebie," so I opted for an express bus route into the District where the office was re-locating.

Shortly thereafter, dear wife and I spent our first weekend looking at houses, with the Washington Post as our guide. McLean, Fairfax and Great Falls were the most convenient locales from which to choose.

I spotted an ad for a house in McLean that was in our price range. The house was situated on the back of a three quarter acre lot and fronted with a circular driveway, which caught my eye immediately. It was of one-story construction, with cedar slab siding. Dear wife was not enthused at all. Earlier that day we had seen a beautiful two-story brick Georgian-style house in Great Falls that attracted her, but the price was more that we could afford.

On our way to Harrisburg we discussed the situation. When I said the Great Falls purchase would require her to work to pay the mortgage, she quickly withdrew her interest, but she still showed little interest in the McLean property. We eventually made a successful bid on the McLean house. Later that summer we moved, excited about living in the nation's capitol.

More, later.

WORKING IN THE NATION'S CAPITOL

After arriving in Harrisburg from overseas, dear wife and I adjusted quickly. It was time for me to head for Washington to accomplish two things: one, settle into my new job, and two, familiarize myself with the real estate market.

Late on Monday morning I arrived in the Roslyn, Virginia area, where the office was located. I walked into the reception area wearing a beret that I had bought in Paris, and asked, in a French-accented voice, for Mr. M_____.The receptionist took one look at me, excused herself, and left the area. I could hear her her say to others, "There is a guy wearing a beret, and asking , in French for D____. Shortly he appeared, we had a good laugh, and he took me into the office proper, and introduced me to the staff. The people, about fifteen of them were very friendly, and we got off to a good start, a start that never diminished during the entire time I worked there.

I was then shown to my office. It was quite a bit smaller that the one in Harrisburg, but it had a beautiful view of the Washington Monument!! Wow! I was really happy with my introduction to the D.C. area.

I spent two days in the office and then headed to Harrisburg to assist dear wife in preparing our home for sale.

More, later.

PARIS IN THE SPRING

Our children, who had traveled to Europe with my Aunt Jerrie, urged us to take a similar trip, and by golly, we did.

Paris is my favorite European city. Our headquarters in Paris was the Hotel Madeline. It was close to the Champs Elysees and the Place de la Concorde, so much of our sightseeing was by walking. In addition, sitting in a sidewalk cafe having some cafe au lait and pastry gave us a really cosmopolitan feeling. The only negative aspect to our stay was the hotel charging us for our breakfast orange juice when it was clearly marked as part of what was included in our stay. The cashier wondered aloud why we were "fussing" about such a small charge, and I told her it was the principle of the thing.

Directly across from the hotel was a sandwich and pastry (gorgeous) shop where I first had what has become a favorite sandwich, the corque-monsieur. Believe it or not, I can get the same delicious sandwich in one of our local cafes. Wow!

More, later.