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.
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.
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.
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?
It’s Sunday morning and I am starting the day in the summer office. It’s cool for the moment, but today’s forecast calls for afternoon temperatures to reach a high of 93 (34C).
The Arizona weekend began with an early Saturday morning flight to Phoenix, renting a car, grabbing a bite to eat on the recommendation of a friend before finding the right spot for my ‘signature picture’ which I share with my brothers and a few friends. It’s a silly picture, but fun.
St. Louis – July ’23
the first ‘bad picture’ Seattle – May ’23
on the way to Sunday’s game, Phoenix October ’23
I had to find the ‘right’ cactus, Arizona September ’23
My hotel was within walking distance to the stadium, and I paced myself in the heat. Chase Field has a retractable roof, the first of its kind when it opened in 1998. The roof was closed because it was 100 degrees (38C) late in the afternoon before game time.
The Astros won Saturday night’s game 1-0 (nil) and clinched a playoff berth as did the Diamondbacks with a Chicago Cubs loss. I walked home and grabbed some tacos for dinner at the hotel.
Sunday morning, I woke early and planned the day. The hotel I was staying was architecturally cool. It was constructed in the 1930s and had been a bank before being converted into a hotel and legend had it that the penthouse was once inhabited by Alfred Hitchcock.
coffee Sunday morning in the hotel lobby…an impressive Art Deco building from the 1930s
I had a breakfast date with a fellow blogger, Ingrid from Live, Laugh RV: Our Next Chapter. She and her husband were originally from Chicagoland not far from where I love before moving west, then retiring and deciding to live the RV life. Ingrid’s posts left yearning for travelling in retired RV lifestyle from one location to another while exploring and enjoying being outdoors. Her photographs were always stunning. It was wonderful to meet Ingrid in person, and we were never at loss for something to say over breakfast. After breakfast, we took an ‘ussie’ and I headed back to the hotel to pack and get ready for the last game of the season.
Ingrid and I after meeting for breakfast, October 1, 2023
On the final day of the season, all baseball games begin about the same time Sunday afternoon. I arrived when the gates opened found my seat behind the Astros dugout in hopes of seeking out my favorite player, Maurico Dubón.
Last week I jumped into the deep end of the pool and created a new feature for my blog. My decision might have been premature, on the way home Saturday I drove around searching for signs, I didn’t see any, but I haven’t past the church since last week and I decided to take a different path with the sign of the week post, so hang on this week’s sign is from 2023 and there is a story which goes along with it and I have been looking for a way to tell it. WARNING – this is likely to be a LONG READ and I am breaking the post into two parts.
This week’s sign comes from Arizona when I was there for MLB stadium number 28, in September 2023.
Every MLB stadium has signs like this posted around the stadium and smaller ones close to the field. In recent years, stadiums have put up netting along the infield to make being a spectator safer. It’s a good thing, but if you go to the stadium, you do have to be paying attention foul balls often make it over the net and baseballs are hard and there are no screens in the outfield to protect fans. Continue reading Sign of the Week – Warning (part one)→
It’s the first FULL day of summer in the northern hemisphere. It’s where I live and where most of the world’s population lives also – it’s approximately a 90-10 spilt! It’s largely due to equity of land distribution – 68-32 spilt in favor of the northern hemisphere.
But this isn’t a geography lesson.
I saw something recently that explained one of the reasons for the decline in cognitive ability in aging adults (and that’s me) is when we stop creating.
MtDC is fifteen years old this summer going on sixteen and I’d like to see it continue to grow.
TRUE – a wonderful thought for the first day of summer, Wheaton, IL Friday, June 20, 2025
I have a blogger friend who ‘s Saturday post is always – Photos of the Week. Each week Wynne includes a sign she has come across in her travels during the week and it is always a good message. She peppers it with images from her family’s weekI look. I forward to her posts each Saturday morning.
It’s Father’s Day and I have already gotten my gifts. We are at the lake, my daughter is upstairs sleeping after, our son is home with his family after travelling home yesterday, and the dogs are curled up sleeping. It is a quiet Sunday morning, and the lake is still, cool, and overcast.
It’s been almost sixteen years since my father died. For me Father’s Day is a quiet day best spent with family. This year, it’s special as it is my son’s first Father’s Day.
Family at the lake This past week my son and his family visited us at the lake. It was exciting, fun, and a whirlwind having twin grandies and their parents join us at the lake for several days. It was fun hearing them babble, cry, crawl, eat, and grow.
our first family photo from last summer….
Weston and Hudson!
Weston rides Archie with O’s help
Hudson and my wife….
already printed, framed, and on display…
I remember his first visit as an infant and our daughter’s a few years later. We enjoyed their visit and celebrated several firsts – especially our first three generations photo!
Father’s Day My daughter gave me my Father’s Day gift a few weeks ago. It is a hummingbird feeder with a camera. I opened the box this past week, installed it, and have been enjoying the feeder and its images since.
I am thankful to my blogging friend Margaret for encouraging me to be a birder with her book’s post from April 2018. I did read the book Where the Poppies Blow, and I am excited to return to Europe this summer and travel through the battlefields of northern France and the Netherlands. Also, I am thankful to the COVID lockdown for accelerating my curiosity and wonder for birds.
