The signs are everywhere – stores, roads, churches, and schools. Yes, even on the faces of parents and kids; It’s time to go back to school.
My neighborhood’s schools open yesterday and other schools around me opened Thursday, and few like mine, open next week. There isn’t a set day to go back or let out. The only days many of our school districts have in common are the holidays and spring break in my county.
the sign on Wednesday – two days before school… it was hosting an open house and meet and greet – the streets were filled
I passed the elementary school where our kids went from August 2003 until May 2014 and where we spent Halloweens, parent conferences, daddy-daughter dances, carnivals, and much more. Our kids had only one year when both were attending together; one was in fifth grade and the other a kindergartner.
I asked them for their memories of their time as Tremendous Tigers and this is what they responded:
“0ne time I got a splinter playing capture the flag”
“The memories of spectacular field days filled with fresh watermelon, with class filled participation and always looking forward to explore more days at the end of each year”
Both were nominated at some point as “Tremendous Tigers.”
My kids are not going to back to school this August, their days are done for the moment. One is raising twin boys, and the other is figuring out next steps.
I am headed back for my twenty-seventh year as a teacher, but I am still learning.
I’ve been back for two days – mostly meetings to go over new initiatives and procedures, celebrate accomplishments and career milestones, and for an hour on Thursday – meeting a few of the kiddos and parents I’ll have in my classroom. It was the best hour of the two days.
It’s Saturday and the last weekend before the kiddos arrive on Tuesday. I have Monday to work in my classroom and prepare for the first few days. I’ll be looking for signs and taking the first steps to welcome kiddos to their first year in middle school.
The Sign of the Week has been published on Fridays, but I ran out of time this week. I’ll be looking for new signs and maybe a few old ones this coming week. And who knows, I might even publish on Friday next week.
Today is going to be like the all of the Saturdays since school ended – AMAZING. I know it and I can feel it, so I’d better jump up, jump in, and seize the day. Making the Days Count, one day at a time, getting ready for a new year of teaching and learning, always paying attention to the signs.
W^2 or W squared for Wordless Wednesday, August 13, 2025
The Great hall – Union Station, Chicago, IL Sunday, August 10, 2025 5:10 CDT
Summer break is finished. Every year when I get to this point, this day on the calendar, and I ask myself the question,
Did I do enough?
This year, I can answer yes.
Of course there are things I didn’t do, but I did a lot.
This past summer I passed through several train stations – Paddington, Swansea, St. Pancras, Gare du Nord, Amsterdam’s Schiphol, Central, and North, and this past Sunday – Chicago’s Union Station.
Sunday, I used public transit to attend a baseball game on the southside. It was a good game and getting to the city and back was easy and efficient.
After the game, I sat in the Great Hall of Union Station waiting for my train and mind wandered and I thought of another great hall, the main hall of the Musée d’ Orsay, which was once a train station. As I sat and took in the hall, I went back to look at the photos I took when I visited Paris. There were similarities.
Musée d’ Orsay main hall, Paris, France July 17, 9:50 GMT-1
Union Station, the Great Hall, Chicago, IL August 10, 2025 5:03 PM
Musée d’ Orsay the main hall Paris, France,July 17, 2025 9:55 GMT-1
While the Musée d’ Orsay is significantly larger the two stations were built in similar time periods at a time when train travel was the only way travel long distances.
Musée d’ Orsay, Paris, France July 17, 2025 10:00 GMT-1
Union Station, Chicago, IL 5:14 CDT
I wondered what these stations might have looked like in their heydays.
Musée d’ Orsay, Paris, France July 17, 2025 10:07 GMT-1
Musée d’ Orsay, Paris, France July 17, 2025 10:07 GMT-1
I am partial to the black and white, which do you prefer?
It’s the last day of summer break and I am going to finish strong and be ready when the alarm rings early tomorrow morning. Today is going to be like the last sixty-nine days have been – AMAZING. I know it and I can feel it, so I’d better jump up, jump in, and seize the day. Making the Days Count, one day at a time, especially when a last day leads to a first day.
We could not have made it very far on our Europe trip without these signs. London, Paris, and Amsterdam are HUGE cities, and they have remarkable transit systems. Chicago has a good system as well, but I don’t travel to the city often. Even with the train, subway, tram, and buses we averaged 20k steps each day on our trip.
Paris
paris
Paris
Paris
Boston
This past weekend in Boston I used Boston’s transit system and found it as easy to use as those in Europe. I was two stops from Fenway and used it to get to the airport with ease. Even still I averaged 14k steps over the weekend.
I live in a world with transit, but it is not practical from me. Last night at Loaves we had a bus drop off and pickup for a couple of clients and we have ride share clients as well, but the suburbs are car reliant. I was grateful for transit when I need it.
Next school restarts for another year, my twenty-seventh. Last night at Loaves and Fishes I ran into a fellow volunteer who’s I daughter I had in my first class in August 1999. We reconnected a few years ago when I recognized her name in the Loaves and Fishes newsletter. Since then, I’ve run into other volunteers whose kids I had or were former students. Serving others is universal and it makes our world smaller.
Today is going to be a great day, but I am going to rely on my car and my feet to get where I need to go and be. So, I’d better jump up, jump in, and seize the day. Today could be a million and six times better than yesterday. Making the Days Count, one day at a time making time to move with a purpose.
Is there reliable transit available where you live? Do you use it?
This past weekend I completed one of my bucket list items – I made to Boston and Fenway Park to watch a baseball game and my thirtieth MLB franchise. I have been looking forward to this game since last season. It was a great weekend, and I watched all three games between the Hoston Astros and the Boston Red Sox before flying home Sunday night. It was a full weekend.
Boston Logan peaks at me through the clouds
Fenway Park is the oldest ballpark in the major leagues and has been used by the Boston Red Sox since 1912. The Chicago Cubs home Wrigley Field is the second oldest having been in use since 1914.
Every ballpark is different. Each ballpark has its own traditions and routines, but in the end it’s that brings us all together. All the fans I interacted with over the weekend were friendly and fun to talk with during the game. They knew the game and enjoyed baseball and were passionate about their team.
Singing “Sweet Caroline” is one of the traditions at Fenway. It is sung in the eighth inning, and it is sung with gusto. I remember learning to play “Sweet Caroline” in seventh grade band. I was so excited to play something fun and upbeat, and my trombone part included playing the tune, rather than in the playing in the background which many of the scores we played had for the trombone.
Where it began I can’t begin to knowin’ But then I know it’s growin’ strong
I didn’t last long in band and quit when high school started. Like many of my peers, I was drifting and wouldn’t really find myself or my place until my junior year.
Sweet Caroline Good times never seemed so good I’ve been inclined To believe they never would
I took an early flight to Boston and landed before noon. I had hoped to use public transit to get to the hotel but was confused and chose a ride share to get to my hotel. It wasn’t until I left Sunday that I realized my mistake! Next time I’ll get it right.
Boston is one of the oldest cities in America, but its history pales in comparison to the cities I had visited in Europe – London, Paris, and Amsterdam. I spent Friday afternoon walking the historical areas in downtown Boston before the game Friday. It was a lovely afternoon, perfect for walking and exploring.
the Boston massacre Memorial on the Boston Common
‘The Embrace’ a memorial the Martin Luther King, Jr and his wife Coretta Scott King
The 54th Massachusetts Memorial – an all black regiment with fought in the Civil War, led by Bostonite Robert Gould Shaw
Benjamin Frankin was born in Boston
the Old City Hall
the memorial to visitors of the Irish Famine 1948-49
the old South Meeting House where the ‘Good Trouble’ began the original ‘resist’ movement
the site of the Boston Massacre, memorialized
I had great seats for Friday’s game – 7 rows behind home plate and on the aisle! There was a family behind me; the grandpa and I talked baseball throughout the game. Sadly, the Astros lost the game in extras 2-1, but it was the best game of the weekend.
the view from the ‘Green Monster’ the 37 foot high left field wall
pre-game view from my seat
the classic peanut photo….
And before I knew it, Friday melted into Saturday morning. Saturday’s game was a 4:10 start and I wanted to arrive early enough to walk the ballpark and take it all in, so I decided to go visit the Boston Museum of Fine Arts which has a special exhibit I wanted to see.
Yes, you guessed it Van Gogh. The exhibit highlighted the artist’s work in the south of France in the last few years of his life. He painted a postal worker and his family while living in the yellow house. I enjoyed the exhibit very much.
yep, it’s me
the postal worker – Joseph Moulin
the famous bedroom
another Van Gogh selfie..
and another selfie with a selfie
Joseph Moulin’s wife, Augustine
another Van Gogh selfie.. they are all very different
Joseph Roulin, the postman
Augustine and her newborn daughter, Marcelle
Saturday’s original plan was to go to the game directly from the museum, but I needed to return to the hotel before the game, and it worked out as I befriended a couple at the tram stop near the hotel. We ended up having a beer before the game.
I tried to connect with my favorite player, but was too late and batting practice was over when I arrived, but I did run into the Friday’s evening’s usher who recognized me and he exclaimed,
“You’re back!”
to which I replied, “You’re back, too!
And we laughed. The grandpa from Friday night had mentioned that he and the usher had gone to high school together and I mentioned it to the usher, and he said,
“Yes, but he went to Harvard.”
I asked where he went, and he replied,
“Williams.”
I smiled and I replied,
“Which is better?”
and he replied,
“Williams!”
And both we laughed.
Then I was off to Saturday afternoon’s seat. I decided to sit in the right field bleachers for Saturday’s game. I found my seat and talked with the usher, Ed, about Fenway and baseball. It is always fun to engage with folks at the ballpark.
Saturday’s game was fun, but like Friday my team ended up on the short side of the score 7-3.
Fenway is on the national Register of Historic Places and there are plaques and markers throughout the park
pre-game photo from my seat
scouting Sunday’s seat on Saturday
a great sign and good advice, and I love the colors of the wall it makes the sign standout, much like to colors in an art museum…
The game ended around 7 PM and I decided it was a nice evening for a walk back to the hotel.
Sunday’s game was an 11:35 AM start and I needed to cleanup, pack up, and checkout of the hotel before going to the game.
I was able to write a few postcards before checking out and taking the tram to the game.
I chose to sit along the first base side in the right field stands for Sunday’s game. I had scouted the seat Saturday and decided where I was going to sit the day before. There were two seats available – seats 12 and 13. I am funny about the number 13, so I chose seat 12. I also, thought (secretly hoped) no one would purchase seat 13. I was wrong, but the person who bought the ticket never showed up; nor did my team and they lost a third game in a row, 7-1.
another sign, filled with great advice
Sunday’s game view
another peanut photo for the collection
seen on the way out – we all have different name. An excellent 70th birthday gift for a baseball fan…
Sweet Caroline Good times never seemed so good I’ve been inclined To believe they never would, oh, no, no
That’s baseball. The season is 162 games long, which is a long time. The season begins in late March and finishes at the end of September followed by a month of playoffs ending in the World Series and a serason’s champion. It’s a long haul, much like my bucket list journey. It started with my first game in the 1970s and I added a second stadium in 1986, then a third in ’87, a fourth in ’88, and many more finishing in Boston. It has been fun; and I’ve enjoyed the travel, the people I’ve met, and the games I’ve seen.
a view of Boston Harbor on the way home…
Today is going to be a great day and it could be a million and six times better than yesterday. So, I’d better jump up, jump in, and seize the day. Making the Days Count, one day at a time, looking back and savoring the experiences, but with an eye on the present.
Do you have a bucket list? If so, what is it?
“Sweet Caroline”
Was in the spring
And spring became the summer
Who’d have believed you’d come along
Hands, touchin’ hands
Reachin’ out, touchin’ me, touchin’ you
Sweet Caroline
Good times never seemed so good
I’ve been inclined
To believe they never would
But now I…
…look at the night
And it don’t seem so lonely
We fill it up with only two
And when I hurt
Hurtin’ runs off my shoulders
How can I hurt when holdin’ you?
Warm, touchin’ warm
Reachin’ out, touchin’ me, touchin’ you
Sweet Caroline
Good times never seemed so good
I’ve been inclined
To believe they never would
Oh, no, no
Sweet Caroline
Good times never seemed so good
Sweet Caroline
I believed they never could
Sweet Caroline
Good times never seemed so good
Written by Neil Diamond
a great sign and good advice, and I love the colors of the wall it makes the sign standout, much like to colors in an art museum…
I pass this place on my way to and from the lake house. When it is open, there is often a line to get in, sometimes the line stretches down the block and tests your resolve about whether the ‘exercise’ is worth the wait. But it’s summer and ice cream is refreshing and tasty.
It was National Ice Cream on Sunday, July 20th. We celebrated early with an ice cream treat in Paris at Berthillon on Ile St-Louis. It was delicious and there was a line to get a treat, but it was worth it as we waited patiently in the shade with other ice cream lovers on a warm Parisian Friday afternoon.
it’s the best exercise… Tasty Treat, Lake City, Michigan, July 25, 2025
It’s Friday and today is going to be an amazing day. This morning I am off to Boston to complete my bucket list at Fenway Park, three days and three baseball games, then home to finish summer and getting ready for school to restart in a couple of weeks. Where does summer break go? Making the Days Count, one day at a time, enjoying an ice cream cone while it’s summer.
W^2 or W squared for Wordless Wednesday, July 30, 2025
a monarch stops for a nibble a long the lake. Grayling, MI, Saturday July 26, 2025 6:39 PM EDT
My wife replanted the garden along the path from the driveway to the cottage this summer and the butterfly bushes are already receiving visitors. Spotted this monarch enjoy a nibble this past Saturday evening.
My late mother-in-law loved monarchs. Every time I see one, I think of her and think she’s visiting and checking on us.
Today is going to be a great day, especially when there is someone watching over me. Today could be a million and six times better than yesterday, but I am going to take it as it comes. Making the Days Count, one day at a time, looking around and paying attention to nature’s beauty – sometimes it’s a sign.
Today’s sign of the week is from the streets of Amsterdam. There are bicycles everywhere in Amsterdam, everywhere. My wife warned me to pay attention to the bike lane and I came close a couple of times, but I learned quickly – stay out of the bike lane and look left AND right when crossing it.
the sign reads, Moped not Allowed, but it really means you are in the bike lane, move to the right.
I had only been to Amsterdam once before this trip, it was when I was four in 1966. My dad had taken a six-month long assignment and moved us to Paris. My memory of our time in Europe is pretty limited. I do remember we flew from Houston to Amsterdam on KLM with a stop in Montreal. Somewhere I may have slides my dad took from our time in Europe.
Amsterdam is much easier to navigate than Paris or London. Amsterdam is smaller and one-eighth the size of Paris in terms of population but the trams and metro are easy to use. Also, there are fewer automobiles. The city is very walkable especially when you pay attention to the bike lanes.
Below is a clip from Ted Lasso, season 3 when Rebecca (Hannah Waddingham) discovers the bike lane.
Though our time in Amsterdam was short – three full days. We packed in quite a bit, much of it I am still processing.
But I did learn, be careful in the bike lane.
Today is going to be an amazing day. I am on the move again, this time to the lake and back Sunday. There are twenty days remaining in summer break and I am going to make and each an every one of them count, just as I have with the previous fifty. Making the Days Count, one day at a time, reading the signs and being careful.
W^2 or W squared for Wordless Wednesday, July 23, 2025
This is going to be the last post from Europe. It has been fun and we’ve seen and visited some amazing places in London, Swansea, Paris, and Amsterdam and places in between.
Me in a selfie with Van Gogh’s ‘Almond Blossoms’ in the background
We visited five art museums while we were exploring Europe. I saw lots of paintings, drawings, and I saw several of the thirty-five known Vincent Van Gogh self portraits. Neither of us created the selfie, it was around long before either of us. We just did it. Many years ago my friends ribbed me for the one-eyed selfie I would use with my social media posts.
One of the things I learned while wandering the museums and looking at paintings is that often the artist wasn’t painting a painting, they were practicing their craft. Yesterday, we arrived at the Vincent Van Gogh Museum to see the collection. I learned even more about Van Gogh while we toured the collection, then I found this – Vincent Van Gogh and the self portrait.
Seen at the Musee D’Orsay in Paris… Tuesday, July 15th
Seen at the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, July 20th
Sunday, while touring the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, I was feeling a little silly and thought I’d capture me with Vincent Van Gogh so I took a selfie, with a selfie. I did it again yesterday.
The first selfie with a selfie
My second selfie with a selfie
Self-portrait, Vincent Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam, July 22nd
It’s the one-eyed selfie! Actually, the photos are edited to show more of Van Gogh’s work than the original photo.
“The only time I feel alive is when I’m painting.”
Vincent Van Gogh (1853-1890)
I read the quote in the Van Gogh Museum and it made me think. Really think. It was sad really, he was brilliant, creative, and deeply troubled. There are so many of us who look like we’ve got it together. I think sometimes making the days count helps me focus on the times when my days were a minus, not a plus.
These past couple of weeks have been awesome. Today we fly home, tomorrow morning I will awake bright-eyed and bushy tailed at three or four in the morning and spend a couple of days getting over the jet lag of a seven hour time change.
Today is going to be an amazing day, so I’d better jump up, jump in and seize the day. I am looking forward to sleeping in my own bed, unpacking, and putting away my suitcase. Making the Days Count, one day at a time, reflecting on being better every day, even a little bit.
It’s Monday and I am in Amsterdam. We were in France a week ago celebrating the 14th of July Fete National with a flyover in the morning and fireworks in the late evening.
The flyover screams past us marking the first of 39 planes
After the flyover, we rented a car and drove to the countryside.
Reminiscent of Monet’s haystacks…the countryside was beautiful
When my wife visited my parents in France in ‘97, my father and Juliana rented a car and took us to country. We visited Normandy our first weekend and then they took us to the Champagne region just northeast of Paris. It’s was a short drive of about an hour and half, just past the recently opened EuroDisney. My dad took us to the Aisle-Marne American Cemetery near Chateau-Thierry.
Juliana and dad were very much in love. It’s easy to see, looking back as I grieve. She took dad’s death hard and I am not sure she ever got over it. When we released dad’s cremains in 2010, she saved some and kept it close. We discovered it when we packed up their home and sold their house in Oxford, Mississippi a few years ago.
We saved it for the time we would disperse Juliana’s ashes. Last Saturday, we reunited Juliana and dad when we dispersed her cremains according to her wishes in the Mumbles in Wales and we reserved a small portion of Juliana’s cremains to take to where dad was in France.
So Monday morning my wife and I took off. It was a relaxing drive after we escaped the Parisian traffic and my wife remarked that we chose a good day as many people were off the streets because of the holiday.
We exited the highway where Maps told us to and switched to two lane roads through farms and small towns which were the battlefield in World War I. The battle line was very close to the French capital and the French army gave up a stiff fight to stop the advancing German army after the Germans invaded France to begin WWI. The battle lines remained for most of the war from September 1914 until the spring of 1918. The Americans joined the war the year before, but were not prepared to join the fight until 1918.
The first major battles for the American forces were in the region. In the late spring of ‘18 the Germans mounted an offensive which came close to breaking the lines had it not been for the marines and American forces fighting back. It is in this battle that the Germans nicknamed the marines “Devil Dogs” for their ferocity and steadfastness in holding the line and it stuck.
The entrance to the Aisne-Marne American Cemetery
The Marine Memorial in Belleau Wood
The woods where we dispersed dad fifteen years before on the edge at the memorial.
My dad served in the Marine Corps for three years – 1953-56. He was fortunate to never see combat and served the entire time stateside. I believe that is why he wished to have his cremains spread here.
My wife and I walked around and I showed her where I remembered where dad was and then I walked out into the woods and re-united the two. I dropped a pin with my iPhone and shared it with my brothers in hopes that one day one of us or all of us will get back here.
We got in the car and drove to the the cemetery, but our afternoon took a turn when my wife suggested we take a right at the church and we drove down a narrow lane to discover a small American Museum and the Devil Dogs Fountain. Click the link to learn more – Why United States Marines Drink from a Fountain in France.
It was a wonderful side trip.
On the train ride from Paris to Amsterdam I worked on the video below, I think it tells the story well. Please take a moment to watch. Thank you.
I signed the guest register and walked among the headstones. I took four photos of fallen Americans. There are 2,294 more, 250 of them still unknown.
It was peaceful in the country. I believe my dad and Juliana are at peace. I know I am.
My wife and I drove to Chateau-Thierry hoping to find a cafe or restaurant to find a bite to eat but were disappointed to find the town closed for business due to the holiday.
It was a wonderful day and it certainly counted. Today is going to be an amazing day, too. But I have to jump up, jump in, and seize the day. Making the Days Count, one day at a time, remembering my parents and all they taught me.
This week’s sign comes from the Swansea train station. It’s where our train ride from London terminated for us. I noticed the signage everywhere was in two languages – Welsh on top and English below – when stopped in Cardiff, the Welsh capital. We asked our seatmate, who joined us in Reading and was on here way home in Swansea for a long weekend if she spoke Welsh. She replied,
“No, I don’t. Only a few words I learned in school.”
Later, I asked our Uber driver if he spoke and the answer was also, no.
It made me think of Juliana, she was Scottish and born in Aruba, her older brother was born in Mexico. Her father was much like her husband and my father, a petroleum engineer working for oil companies. She had strong family roots in Wales.
One of the lessons I want my kids to have learned from me is to ask more questions before it is too late. I guess we always think we have more time, but we never know. This morning, I was sad to read a person I know through my son, passed away. He was 66, far too young.
Juliana would have been 91 this past Sunday. We held her celebration Saturday and we were able to gather, though not as many as I had hoped. It was a wonderful gathering and I learned why she wanted her ashes dispersed where she did.
Once we arrived, we made introductions and sat sharing our stories of Juliana. Lachlan, her nephew, suggested a spot over looking the Bristol Channel on the Mumbles and we walked along the path overlooking the Bristol Channel.
It was solemn reunion of our only gathering some fifty years before.
As we walked along the path, we discovered ‘cat prints’ in the cement path. it was our sign, this was her place. Juliana adored her cats. In the time I knew her she had several cats, Lilac, Sambo, Porgy and Bess, and her last cat, Zorro a black Manx cat who kept her company.
Cat prints in the path mark Juliana’s spot…. I dropped a pin to share with those not present.
The view along the path overlooking the Bristol Channel
Christina (my brother’s wife), my brother Warren, Lachlan, his wife Kim, their daughter Lindsay, my wife, and me.
A cove along the rocky shoreline – Bristol Channel
Every one of us took a turn with words of love and celebration of all she had taught us and dispersed her ashes. It was a beautiful day. Afterwards we gathered for dinner before departing.
The sign in the train station reminded me of a time many years ago. It was after Juliana had moved to an assisted living facility. It was late February 2020, a few weeks or so before the COVID lockdown which would further rob her of her mobility and keep her from returning to her home in Oxford.
I was visiting her to check with her and her doctors to hear her about her progress. It was after dinner and she wanted to watch television, but there was nothing on. I suggested we watch ‘The Crown.’ She had heard of it but had never seen it, so we watched the first two episodes. In between episode, she opened up and shared she enjoyed the show and commented how it was quite accurate. She talked about the queen, being her ‘Queen.’
The next evening I came by with dinner and afterwards she asked if we could watch another episode, so we watched two more before bot of us were nodding off.
Last summer, I had a flashback when I was re-watching the series. I remembered our conversation from that night as she recalled her youth – Juliana was 18 when Queen Elizabeth II was crowned and remembered the events of the time including the content of the last we episode we watched. It was about the killer fog of December 1952.
A few years later, I watched the episode entitled ’Aberfan’ and during our next phone call, I made a point to bring it up. She shared so much and I had so many questions. She asked if there was a way she could watch the episode or the series and I told her the next time I Was down, I’d try to help her see it. Sadly, the technology was too difficult for her to grasp and we never were able to enable her to stream on her own.
Cyrmu is Welsh for Wales. It’s also part of the title of another episode in ‘The Crown,’ the episode is titled ‘Tywysog Cyrmu’ which means Prince of Wales.
I miss her stories and talking with her. She was with us this past Saturday and her memory will always be with us.
It’s Friday and our last full day in Paris. Tomorrow, it’s off to Amsterdam by train and a drive to the countryside and back before three full days in Amsterdam then flying home Wednesday and back to responsibility. It’s been a busy week and I’ve been micro-blogging at Instagram @makingthedayscount check it out for short busts of our trip.
Today is going to be an amazing day, full of new discoveries and experiences. So I’d better jump up, jump in, and seize the day. Making the Days Count, one day at a time, looking for signs to make think.
Is there a sign that made you think, or took you back to another time?
