I didn’t find this week’s sign until I was there, I’d been there before, seen the sign, and turned right into the parking lot almost as if the car knew where to go.
My go to sign at the church lists October’s upcoming events and I didn’t find any signs until yesterday evening just before sunset, after I had loaded the car. And there it was, this week’s sign.
Our family has been visiting this farm for as long as I can remember…my first photo evidence is from 2011, that I could find, but that was about the time that Saturdays were filled with kid’s activities of sports and scouts and family and whatever else we could pack in. Now that they aren’t kids any more, we still visit.
The farm is an hour’s drive into the flat plains of northwestern Illinois farming country. Soybean and corn fields lined the road as we drove west. An occasional farmhouse and barn surrounded by trees greeted along our journey. It’s been dry, very dry, and we saw clouds of dust in the fields as farmers rushed to bring in this year’s harvest with their combines.
The farm we visit is a multi-generation farm and the original farmer has since passed on, but his family – his kids, and their kids, and their kids, kids continue the tradition. The daughters run the operation now, and they remember us, even though we haven’t brought our kids in a few years. They grow pumpkins, and the midwestern field crops as well as raise a few head of cattle, too. The farmhouse is decorated with pumpkins and gourds sorted by size and price and there is quite the variety.
the farmhouse and a large tree surrounded by all sorts of pumpkins
this wage has the eight dollar pumpkins
They also raise rabbits and goats’ a few years back we almost came home with a rabbit to go with our pumpkins.
We always arrive late in the afternoon and have picked our pumpkins, visited, explored, and loaded before the sun sets over the fields. We always stop for dinner at a local restaurant on our way home. It’s our tradition and it feels right. When dinner is finished, it is dark, and we drive home. It’s been a full day when we pull into the driveway and unloading the car will have to wait until the morning.
a ‘framed’ sunset – I couldn’t really see what I had until I had taken it….
unframed, the sun seems small
this tree ‘spoke’ to me and I had to take the shot
I woke later this morning, later than normal, but earlier than the rest of the house. I was rested, the country air is always refreshing, and I was ready for the day. I was a reading a few blogs and I came read Dr. Gerald Stein’s post – Our Questionable Progress, and I thought how appropriate it was as I was feeling overloaded starting the day. Sunday is always a busy day for me I never seem to get everything I need to get done. So today, I am going to breathe and get done, what I can and leave the remainder for Monday. No pressure.
It’s my youngest brother’s birthday – all three of us are sequential 61-62-63 until my birthday in November when I will be two to the sixth power. It’s also my 34th wedding anniversary and it seems like the other day when a ray of light beamed in through window above us and illuminated the two of us just as we took our vows.
Today is going to be an amazing day, I am sure of it. So, I’d better jump up, jump in, and seize the day. Today is going to be a great day. Making the Days Count, one day at a time, being patient, focused, and purposeful.
I am a history buff. When I was dreaming of becoming a teacher, I dreamed of teaching American history and sharing my love of the subject. Instead, I’ve taught other subjects as my primary assignment – ELA (or English), Geography, and Science. In my twenty-seven years of teaching, I’ve been able to teach American history as my primary subject for one year. It was glorious.
It was during that year that I first heard of PFC James E. Wickline. It was the 2015-16 school year, and it seems very long ago.
I can only remember a few of the names of kids in my classes from that year. When I pass the framed class photos lining the main hallway, I sometimes stop at the 2016 class photo and read the names, the photos jog the memory, but sadly I recognize only a few of the hundred and twenty or so from the class I had in my classroom that year.
Interestingly, one of the people I volunteer at Loaves and Fishes is the mother of one of the boys from that class. He’s grown, graduated from college, and is working in Atlanta as an actuary. I sometimes wonder what happened to the rest of them. They were the class whose high school senior year was derailed by the COVID lockdown and many of their freshman years at college were spent isolated in remote learning.
When my wife and I were planning this past summer’s European trip she asked what wanted to do and see. My list was short, but it included visiting PFC James E. Wickline’s grave in the Netherlands American Cemetery near Margraten, Netherlands.
The tower at the entrance t the cemetery
the American flag flies among the graves
lily pads in the reflection pond of the tower
lily pads in the reflection pond of the tower
it was 2016, when I learned about Maarten Vossen, a Dutch man, who had adopted Wickline’s grave in the Netherlands American Cemetery when he was thirteen years old in 2002. The people in towns surrounding the Netherlands American Cemetery adopt the graves of fallen American servicemen and there is a waiting list.
Since 1945, the Netherlands American Cemetery is the only cemetery where the locals have adopted every single one of the fallen U.S. Soldiers—all 8,288 headstones as well as the 1,722 names on the Tablets of the Missing in the cemetery’s Court of Honor. In fact, he explained, the waitlist to adopt is so long that people are waiting more than 10 years, and the organization heading up the project is no longer taking new sign-ups. Read more at Honoring our legacy: Locals adopt graves of U.S. Soldiers.
As I learned more about the story, the more I wanted to learn, and the more I wanted to share.
Marten Vossen turned adopting Wickline’s grave into a mission to learn more about the soldier. Eventually, he traveled to Wickline’s home in West Virginia in 2012, and again in 2014, when a few in the community learned of his mission and began to help Vossen realize his dream to honor the fallen soldier. In July 2015 a bridge was dedicated in his honor as the PFC James E. Wickline Bridge near his home in Osage, West Virginia. (video at the end of the post)
In 2016, Marijn Poels, a Dutch independent filmmaker, released the documentary Ageless Friends about Vossen and his dream to honor Wickline. It’s an inspiring story.
In 2017, when we arrived at that point in American history I shared the story with my history classes and we watched the video and completed an assignment. I refined the assignment – making changes and adding and removing parts which didn’t work in 2018, 2019, and to finish the COVID year in 2020. I think the story impacted a more than a few of students and for a moment they were able to think beyond their 8th grade selves.
I went back to look at their reactions to the story, here are a few….I didn’t edit any of the remarks except the perfect generation comment….
Why do you think Maarten Vossen was drawn to adopt James Wickline’s grave marker in the Netherlands American Cemetery?
Because he was a solider and american solders are the reason he has freedom.
He was probably drawn to adopt a grave because he wanted to pay his respects to the people who served in the war. He wanted to be a part in what happened and help the people who were in the war. He probably was also intrigued to what happened to the men who fought. He wanted to help the people who helped his country.
I think he wanted to adopt a grave to show his appreciation for the American soldiers that liberated the Netherlands. He also wanted to help care for the grave and be helpful to the family that can’t put flowers on his grave because they are to far away. Lastly, he was interested in learning about the grave he adopted and wanted to know the backstory of how he passed.
What surprised you about the story of Maarten Vossen and James Wickline?
I wasn’t expecting them to be so close to each other. The lengths Maarten took to learn more about the man, whose grave is the one under his care.
That Maarten did not stop when he found out that James hardly saw war. What surprised me about James is he had so many people that remebered him and told so many stroies to help out Maarten get more information on James.
Maarten did not even know James and he did all of this for him
I feel the same way, that is why I wanted to visit his grave and pay my respects to PFC Wickline and the Netherlands American Cemetery.
So, we did. Saturday, July 19th we left Paris by train and traveled across Belgium arriving at the Schiphol train station to rent a car for the day.
The journey took longer than I anticipated with a few wrong turns adding to our travel.
I may have found a bench for a future post….
We arrived after a little after four and with a closing time of five o’clock my visit was hurried. After a brisk walk and nervous few moments when I realized I had incorrectly interpreted the cemetery’s grid system for locating a burial plot; I found Wickline’s final resting place.
I took a few pictures and spent a moment of prayer and reflection.
the American flag flies among the graves
I had so many questions, with no one to answer them. Like my students from 2019 I was filled with humbleness and awe.
As I write and reflect, I know that this story could fill a book. Maybe one day this might happen, but there is more I need to learn, more I need to see and in the words of eighth graders from 2019…
What’s one important thing you learned in class today?
I learned that there are good people in the world that will do the utmost to make sure someone is given recognition
i learned that it is very important to remember our fallen soldiers and the “perfect (I think he meant ‘greatest’) generation”. I also learned that if you put your mind to it you can do anything.
I learned that you don’t have to contribute something big to be a hero. Heroes come from many things.
I don’t think I could have said it better.
I’ve been working on this post for a long while and I am setting it to go live midday on September 17, 1944. The day PFC Wickline jumped from a c-47 in Operation Market Garden 81 years ago today and his parachute didn’t open.
“May we never forget the sacrifice of those who gave their lives for our freedom.”
Making the days Count, one day at a time, telling the story of someone’s life to inspire others.
For more of the story, I have added videos about the cemetery and dedication ceremony for the PFC James E. Wickline Memorial Bridge in Osage, West Virginia.
Saturday, I took the longest hike in a long time – just under three miles with two dogs in tow. Or rather being towed by one dog and staying out of the way of the other.
In the past couple of years, I’ve gone on shorter hikes but I haven’t been getting out for longer hikes for more than a while. It’s a new year for the Take a Hike Challenge from the forest preserve and I skipped ’23 and ‘24’s challenges but I am back this year.
outward bound Herrick Lake Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL September 6, 2025 3:53 EDT
Saturday Fern, Nova, and I walked through Herrick Lake Forest Preserve. It’s a favorite of mine, it’s close and a good length with forest and prairie landscapes with just enough up and down to get the heart moving while the feet are following each other round moving me from start to finish.
on the way back to the trailhead. Herrick Lake Forest Preserve, Wheaton, IL September 6, 2025 4:22 EDT
When I got home, I had enough energy to refresh the bird feeders and a few other chores before calling it a day. Fern and Nova were completely spent, too.
It is Wednesday and today is going to be a wonderful Wednesday. It’s the middle of the week and school has a late start with a faculty gathering first thing at 7:30 AM. The bells will ring before I know it, so I’d better jump up, jump in, and seize the day. Making the Days Count, one day at a time, one foot after another is way to tackle life.
Is there something you’ve recently re-started that you’ve been avoiding?
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?
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.
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?
W^2 or W squared for Wordless Wednesday, July 16, 2025
I can’t believe it’s Wednesday, again. A week ago I was stumbling around on a couple of hours of jet lagged sleep through London. Since then we’ve been around London, traveled by train and car to Swansea and back, taken the second to last train to Paris, and tromped around the French countryside and several iconic places around Paris.
A lamppost on the Pont Neuf, Il de la Cite, Paris, France, July 15, 2025 9:21 PM
We are having fun and getting a lot of walking in. The weather has been beautiful.
I am usually the early riser in the family, but this morning I awoke to an empty apartment. My wife had gotten the jump on me and gotten out while I slept late, much later than I usually do.
fifteen minutes later, Il de la Cite, Paris, France, July 15, 2025 9:36 PM
When the body speaks, I should listen.
Last night after a full day of touring, we rode the Metro back to where we are staying. We stopped to sit on one of the benches along the Pont Neuf. It was peaceful even with the traffic below on the river, the busy road connecting the Rive Droite with Rive Gauch, and the pedestrians going home, going out, or simply enjoying a moment outside as the day came to a finish.
It had been a full day.
We’ve done so much since my last post Sunday night. Monday we traveled to the countryside and explored then Tuesday we explored the city. I have so much to share, but I need time to process everything – moments and images.
Today is going to be another full day, I know it and I can feel it. Today could be a million and six times better than yesterday, but I have to jump up, jump in, and seize the day. Making the days COUNT, one day at a time, especially when I am on vacation.
How do you ‘vacation?’ Full throttle, slow and easy, or as it goes?
Our trip caught up with us on Friday. After two days of sight-seeing, we were spent.
I was able to finish sign of the week before breakfast, even after promising myself I’d have it ready to go ahead of time.
Over breakfast we decided to make it a ‘museum day.’ We ended up taking the underground to Bond Street and then walking to the Wallace Collection near Marlylebone, where we had been Thursday. As we walked, I recognized some of the places we had passed the day before and I was thankful the museum was air conditioned. After viewing the first gallery together – paintings and other art work from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, we separated. My wife went upstairs, to explore and I explored downstairs and te the collection of English armor.
The tile and statue are reproductions inspired from the Near East – reproductions of the tile are in the restrooms..
The armor opposite the chair I took a break to rest my eyes…
I was able to sit quietly and people watch in one of the chairs set aside for visitors like me.
When my wife was finished, she texted me and went to find her. We talked next steps and decided to visit Ottolenghi, the restaurant we had enjoyed the day before for a ‘petit repas,’ order it to go, and enjoy it in al fresco. The server recommended a small shaded neighborhood park close by and we found it after a short walk.
The park was the ideal location to enjoy a bite to eat , people watch, and talk about what we wanted to do with the remainder of the day – our last FULL day in London. In the end, we decided to return to the hotel, take a short nap, freshen up, and decide about dinner afterwards.
The short nap and freshening up did wonders for our perspective and we decided to enjoy the local culture of an English pub. On the recommendation of the concierge (and a fellow America) we chose a pub nearby the hotel. It was an excellent recommendation. I ordered the Scotch egg (below) and fish and chips, and my wife had the Beef Wellington, the house specialty. All of it was delicious washed down with a pint or two of the local beer.
We finished the evening at Hyde Park listening to Neil Young and the Chrome Hearts finish their set. We were back at our hotel well before midnight.
Saturday morning we woke early, it was a traveling day. After breakfast we returned to the room to pack before catching a ride to Paddington Station and the train to Swansea.
Before we left, I asked the concierge if there was a mailbox close by and he point ed at one I had walked by at least two times without noticing. You would’ve thought I would have noticed something so large and RED! I mailed the post cards we had written.
We had a date with the Great Western Railroad to celebrate Juliana.
My father and Juliana lived in England for less than a decade in the from about 1976 to 1983 before relocating to Paris. During our summer and winter breaks, my brothers and I would visit them though we always we went separately I went by by myself and my two brothers traveled together. Juliana and my father lived in Reading which is a bit more than a half hour train ride from London through Paddington Station. I remember traveling through Paddington to Reading and back during my trips – sometimes with them or by myself, then using the underground to get around the city. That was a long time ago and my to Reading and England was Christmas break of 1982 when I was a junior in college.
In the late 70s British Rail introduced these engines which traveled 125 mph, they still do…
The countryside west of Reading farms and less people
Our trip to Swansea would take us to Reading and Bristol, Cardiff, and terminate in Swansea where we would meet up with my brother and his wife and Juliana’s English family.
Saturday was for traveling, then gathering with family to honor Juliana and dad, and that is for another story.
Today has been an amazing day, it too was a travel day. Swansea to London, the the Eurostar to Paris. It’s been a whirlwind of a day, though I don’t know if it could top Saturday. That is for another post.
Today would have been Juliana’s 91st birthday. I know she was with us yesterday, likely wondering what all the fuss was about.
At the moment, I am traveling south from Lille to Paris at 186 mph (300 mph) and I had better wrap up this post before we arrive at Gare du Nord and begin the French portion of our trip begins. I have already jumped up, jumped in, and seized the day. Today has counted in so many ways – by car and rail and so much more. Making the Days Count, one day at a time, even when I am posting at 10:40 PM (local time).
When was the last time you posted late in the day?
Saturday morning we woke early, it was a traveling day. After breakfast we returned to the room to pack before catching a ride to Paddington Station and the train to Swansea.
We had a date with the Great Western Railroad to celebrate Juliana.
