The Last Entry of Summer 2007

I have been busy since my last entry. I spent eight days with Micah, my son, and Bess, his wife and my grandchildren in Springville, Ut. Bess is storked again and down with the nine-month-flu. So I volunteered to be her personal slave for a while. She didn't make many demands on me, except to play with the kids (Golly darn. Do I have tuh?).

Bess's misery aside, it was a marvelous week for me. I got to bond with Bess, cook and clean to my heart's content, and read a lot of really great Little Golden Books. But the second best part (the first being serving loved-ones) was waking up early and going to the meditation pond with Harriett.

The pond is about two blocks from Micah's house and comes complete with goldfish, three ducks, and two swans.

The swans were so big that they reminded me of Ramses, our 100 lb. Doberman--not that they weighed even close to 100 lb. It's just that they were enormous and had this attitude of "Mess with us and regret it." I assure you that a hissing swan is can be just as intimidating as a snarling Doberman if one understands that getting hit by a swan's wing is equivalent to getting hit by a baseball bat.

The last morning of my stay, Micah drove Harriett and me to the store to buy a half gallon of goldfish. Then we went to the pond and released them. Harriett and I discussed the likelihood that some of them might get eaten by the ducks, swans, and other fish, and some might survive. It was all terribly educational.

Later that evening, after working a very long week, Micah took most of the evening off and walked to the pond with Henry, Harriett and me, where I took some pictures.

The next morning Micah drove me to the airport. From there the week-end got interesting. While waiting in the interminable airport check-in line, I spotted

Vincent D'Onofrio. He was wearing a dress shirt with onyx studs, a suit coat and Levis. And boy did he look tired. I would have loved to walk up to him and say, "Mr. D'Onofrio, I love your work," but I couldn't remember his name and he looked tired and mean. He also appeared to be about 6 ft. 5 in. tall. No way I was going to disturb an irritable actor/giant.

Once on the plane, I sat across from Harry Jackson, a "world famous painter and sculptor," he informed me. He loved me and told me his life story all the way from Salt Lake to Cody. We were 20 min. late getting into Cody, but he managed to fill in any possible lull in the conversation with more autobiographical material.

The above is a picture of his Sacajawea, my favorite of his sculptures. It is a painted bronze, which caused quite a stir in the artistic world.

I introduced him to Steven when we landed and he loved Steven too. Then he insisted that we visit his studio as soon as we had read his autobiography on line, http://www.harryjackson.com/index.cfm. He called us twice the morning we went to his studio. It was a wonderful tour of the originals of some of his most famous work.

Tomorrow summer ends. I have to return to Taft via Fresno. I will just have to make the most of it.

How We Spent Our Summer Vacation

In a nutshell, after doing Ireland and London and attending Jared and Miya's graduation,
Steven and I;

went to the movies with the Hetheringtons,

read the last Harry Potter book,



entertained a lot of guests,

went moose watching,

went to Yellowstone twice,

took Micah, Henri, and

Bess and Harriett riding,

and read to our grandkids.

The Rest of London

On Tuesday, the 29th of June, we walked the Theatre District and did the Tower of London. I can live without the Theatre District (we got burned there last time, inadvertently witnessing an inappropriate play), however, I love the Tower. The Tube (subway) station closest to the Tower is located near one of the biggest relics of British irony I can think of: London's sun dial.

When do they ever get a chance to use it? Nevertheless, so that the project wasn't a complete waste of time, at the base of the sun dial is the music to "London Bridge is Falling Down," a very historical song.

At the Tower itself, Beefeaters serve as affable, knowledgeable and chatty tour guides. Their most common FAQ is, "Where did the title "Beefeater" originate? Ans: No body knows. So there's no point in asking.

Our Beefeater was particularly informative and photogenic. In addition, he did "adorable" well and accepted tips without protest.

See if you can pick our guide out of this group-shot that I pulled off the web. Isn't he a cutie?

Steven would not rest until he had bought Micah a tie at the Jewel House Shop. The tie was beautiful--just the sort of thing a graphic designer should wear around his neck. A little later that day, Steve became obsessed with another gift, but more on that follows.

The fact of the matter is that I cannot possibly leave the Tower without a brief comment on one my favorite subjects:

street utility covers. You must admit, the Irish have nothing on Londoners when it comes to gratings.

From the Tower, we tubed it to Hamleys Toy Store, the largest toy store in England. My personal reaction was that of disappointment. Toys R Us is just as good and there's one in every other city in the U.S. To me, Hamley's was all electronics and bling, none of the high-end, quality stuff I saw at Harrods. But they did have a cool game of lawn dominoes.

As previously hinted, Steven wanted to find a car for his little boy. It had to be just the right size for 2-year-old hands and it had to be indestructible. So we started on the 5th floor of Hamleys and worked our way down. We went through every car in the store. Finally, on the first floor, we found a suitable black wooden car by Plan Toys, with driver. Granted, it was not red as hoped for, but it was close enough.

The next day, Thursday, we went to Trafalgar Square, West Minster Abby, and Baker Street. What I have thus far failed to mention is that we had been reading The DaVinci Code during our trip. Now we had the opportunity to view some of the places described in the novel. What a joke!

That's not to say that Sir Isaac Newton's tomb, located within the Abby, wasn't everything it was supposed to be. But the Chapter House, in which Robert Langdon supposedly removed and hid the final clue, is so well lit that he could never have made a move without notice.

And, as luck would have it, we actually stayed in a hotel located about equidistant from both St. Mary's Hospital and Kensington Gardens.

This is a picture of Bayswater Road. Notice its heavy use. Obviously, there is no way a profusely bleeding, naked albino monk could carry a gun shot victim down the street without someone noticing.

Enough about The DaVinci Code. Baker Street seemed to speak to Steven. We took the tube to the Bakers Street station and then found 221B Baker Street, Mr. Holmes' address. Unfortunately, only an empty store-front remains. However, across the street is the The Sherlock Holmes Museum. I spent a great deal if time trying to get Steven to buy a dignified likeness of Sherlock Holmes for his collection of cool cop stuff. Alas, there were none, unless you count the basset hound with the calabash pipe and deerstalker hat.

Honest to goodness, one of my greatest goals in returning to London was to find a figurine of Sherlock Holmes for Steven's collection.

Steven finally agreed to buy a refrigerator magnet with the Baker Street Tube symbol on it and allowed me to take a picture of him sitting in the Baker Street Station. I think it was said best when, upon the discovery that Steven was paying bills with all the money we had given him to buy a new rifle, Micah said, "That's just selfish."

The last day of our trip was spent in Camden Market and finishing up our running around. I understand that Camden Market is much more interesting on the weekends. But I don't think I could have tolerated any more excitement. Camden is known for its punk scene. Since Steven and I have a policy that we don't go into stores that smell like incense, we were somewhat limited as to our browsing. Nevertheless, we spent the better part of the day strolling around looking at a lot of Chinese and Indian imports.

I finally found some Indian pillow covers that had a really nice design so I bought three because they looked very Irish to me. (Go figure.)

And of course we had to check out some of Harry Potter's haunts.

This is the actual place that Hagrid said good-bye to Harry just before Harry went out in search of Platform 9 3/4.

Try as I might, at Platform 9 3/4, II could only get my luggage cart halfway through the wall. I was really hoping to get a good picture of Steven and me in front of the Hogwarts Express. Imagine my disappointment.

Our last stop was Paddington Station, where we bought Harriett some souvenirs of Paddington Bear. He's a good listener.

That concludes my account of our trip. If you still haven't gotten enough details, ask to see my journal. Just remember that it took me three times longer to record the trip than it did to actually take the trip.