tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82705436521633044022024-02-20T15:56:07.618-05:00I Dwell in PossibilityMy favorite line from Emily Dickinson and how I look at the world.Renee L. Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14352047664194655349noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8270543652163304402.post-56825217062363893102015-01-24T15:50:00.000-05:002015-01-24T15:50:15.465-05:00A call to radical self-love"Live as if you liked yourself, and it may happen"<br />
Marge Piercy "The seven of pentacles"<br />
<br />
According to the societal standards of beauty, I am an abject failure. For years, I walked around, beating myself up in my head because of my fat body. Every day I looked in the mirror and was never satisfied. I obsessed about everything I ate, especially when eating in public. Unlike many fat women, I don't have any horror stories of ill-treatment from strangers, or potential romantic partners, or employers, but we know these exist for many, many obese men and women.<br />
<br />
When I look around me at women on television, in movies, in magazines, in advertisements, and in almost every representation, I see more benchmarks of beauty that I do not meet. That I will never meet -- not because I am slothful and uncaring -- but because they are meant to be unattainable.<br />
<br />
Long, thick, glossy hair. Wrinkle, blemish, and pore free. Perfectly proportioned body, boobs and booty. Cellulite free. No "excess" body hair. "Naturally" beautiful. Artfully applied makeup to look like you are not wearing makeup at all.<br />
<br />
Our culture tries to sell women, and to a lesser extent, men, an image that we must always be striving for. This is why you hear women who are regularly held up to the world as "perfect" and "beautiful" spend so much time in interviews hating on something or other about their bodies. She must talk about her weird nose or too-long neck or how she can never gain weight or her bizarre repressive diet and her military exercise routine or some other such nonsense. She must remind us that at 10 she was skinny and gangly and didn't date in high school or whatever to show her imperfections and insecurities. A woman must never, ever, ever express in public the idea that she is satisfied with her looks. She is okay with her body. Comfortable in her skin. She must always be striving for that glorious ideal of perfection. (If you doubt me, take a gander at some the press Gabourey Sibide has amassed over the past few years as she talks about herself in confident, body-positive ways.)<br />
<br />
When I hear women talk all the time about how disgusting their bodies are and how they are x amount overweight, even when they are friends, I think, what must they think of me and my obese body? I must be so incredibly disgusting to them. (Not that I think everything's about me....but if people put themselves in other people's shoes, there are so many things that just come across as painful and destructive.)<br />
<br />
Just when you think you're good, and you feel comfortable in your skin....blam. New standard. New goals. New ways of shaming you and making you feel like shit about yourself. Finally got the BB cream into your skin care regimen, oops, now you need the CC cream...then it will be the DD...etc. etc. Shape your eyebrows this way. Wear your hair that way. Use this shampoo. No, that one! Eat this not that! Juice cleanse. Make home-cooked meals for your family every day. Never feed yourself or your family fast food. Schedule every minute. Take time to stop and smell the roses.Excel at your job. No, stay at home with your kids. Home school. No, charter school. No, wait, private school...or is it public school? It's exhausting.<br />
<br />
And frankly, I'm tired.<br />
<br />
If you can't come from a place of love, what's the point? If you want or need to lose weight, want or need to change your schedule, or improve or change any area of your life, you can't come from a place of hate. You have to do it because you love yourself. How do you do that when you live in a culture that's reinforcing self-hatred and low self-esteem at every turn, in every possible way?<br />
<br />
Ok now, here's the radical part. What if we just stopped?<br />
<br />
Stopped feeling shitty about ourselves?<br />
<br />
Stopped endlessly thinking and talking about diets and what we eat?<br />
<br />
Stopped comparing women with each other and to photoshopped advertising?<br />
<br />
Stopped talking trash about how other women dress, their hair, their makeup?<br />
<br />
Stopped judging women for how they discipline their kids, or don't have kids, or stay at home, or go to a job somewhere?<br />
<br />
Stopped feeling bad about cellulite or the size of our butts (or ankles, thighs, boobs, neck, stomach, etc.)?<br />
<br />
Stopped thinking we have to be a certain size?<br />
<br />
Stopped feeling like a failure because of the numbers on a scale?<br />
<br />
Stopped injecting ourselves with toxins and foreign substances?<br />
<br />
Stopped talking about "bikini bodies" and "getting in shape for the dress"?<br />
<br />
Stopped obsessing about what foods are "good" or "bad"? (Unless you actually have celiac disease or a life-threatening allergy...then you can obsess all you want.) Eat without justifying it to others. Eat in public without shame.<br />
<br />
What if bodies were just bodies? Each one uniquely shaped and sized.<br />
<br />
What if we stopped demonizing and shaming fat?<br />
<br />
What if we stopped making thin women feel less "real" because they don't have "curves"?<br />
<br />
Why can't people be lumpy?<br />
<br />
Why can't we be shaped and sized differently?<br />
<br />
Keep buying and doing all the stuff you do now if you want, but don't do it because you're trying to meet some mythical standard or you feel bad about how you look. If you buy into that cycle, you'll never win. You will be stuck forever on a moving sidewalk going nowhere.<br />
<br />
Instead of viewing your body with loathing, view it with compassion. Think about how strong you are and what you can do with that body. Or how weak you are and how you need the help and compassion of others to make it through the day.<br />
<br />
Think about your brain and intellect.<br />
<br />
Think about what kind of person you are and what kind of person you want to be.<br />
<br />
Live as if you like yourself -- your whole self, so-called imperfections and all.<br />
<br />
And maybe, just maybe, you'll begin to <b>actually (really, truly, madly, deeply) </b>like yourself.Renee L. Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14352047664194655349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8270543652163304402.post-88812143252710777992015-01-17T19:13:00.001-05:002015-01-17T19:13:09.187-05:00This is my life: Six Songs<div class="MsoNormal">
Like so many of the “personality inventories” that roam the
internet, this is one I saw in a magazine somewhere, I know not where, but it
intrigued me enough to sit down and think about mine. Music has been a part of
my life always – before I knew what it was, before I knew my own affinity for
it, music and songs were there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You Light Up My Life” Debbie Boone (1977)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is not the first song I remember; that would be John
Denver’s “Country Roads” (1973? 74?) which I have a vivid memory of hearing (and
maybe singing?) while playing on the floor at my grandparents’ house in
Wellsboro, PA. “You Light Up My Life,” which was a monster hit, all over the radio,
was the first song I remember deliberately trying to learn the words to, to
sing the tune, and to understand the meaning. I remember sitting on the swing
set in my parents’ backyard at the house on Irvine Place and singing the words
over and over again until they were committed to memory.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ode to Joy” Beethoven <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This theme from the 9<sup>th</sup> Symphony was one of the
first pieces of classical music I learned to play when I began playing the
violin – so I probably learned it sometime in 1979 or 1980. It, along with
Hayden’s “Minuet” and Bach’s “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring,” is ingrained so
deeply in my brain that I often hum it unconsciously, I finger the left hand
when I’m trying to calm down or take my mind off something stressful, and now
that I am older and know the hymn ("Joyful, joyful we adore thee) associated with the tune as well, it
resonates deeply in my soul (as does Beethoven’s 5<sup>th</sup> Symphony). When
I die, I want this hymn sung at my funeral, and I want to imagine that heaven
is full of music beyond all comprehension.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Flowers on the Wall” The Statler Brothers<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The family vacation, all of us and all our stuff piled into
the station wagon, heading south (sometimes north) and listening to the
radio….One of the station wagons our family owned had a new-fangled 8 track
tape deck in it, and we carried along a small selection of music – and the one
song that sticks in my head forever is this one….we played that tape over and
over and over (or so it seemed to me) so that we all hated the song. (This was
just before cassette tapes and branching away from the AM gold into FM pop
radio.)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m on Fire” Bruce Springsteen<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the fall of 1984, I began high school and immediately
crushed on a foreign exchange student. As girls are wont to do, I shared all my
crush-worthy dreams with my best friend, telling her how much I “liked” him and
never daring to do anything about it (story of my life, mostly). One day,
sometime that fall, she asks me to sit down in the lunchroom and says she needs
to tell me something – over the weekend, she’d “made out” with my crush at a
party to this song, and knowing my feelings for him, she wanted my blessing?
approval? permission? to go ahead and date him. I said yes, of course, because
I was all about people-pleasing, and then I cried a lot. I've long since
forgiven her and know I dodged a bullet with him, but this song still pains me
and I’m 14 again, twinging deep in my soul, reminding me of the bittersweet
crush and betrayal of a best friend.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Moondance” Van Morrison / “Could I Have This Dance?” Anne
Murray<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The summer between high school and college, I watched two
little girls in the afternoons so that their mom could go back to work. They
were like three and 6-8 months old, so they napped a good portion of every day
and after I’d done the dishes, there was not much for me to do except read or
watch television, and I got hooked on soap operas. I’d watch “All My Children,”
“One Life to Live” and “General Hospital.” Then I discovered “Santa Barbara,”
which was way more romantic and sweeping, and I would then flip back and forth
between it and “General Hospital.” This was the summer of the romance between
Eden’s sister and Cruz’s brother (I have no idea of their character names, nor
of the actors who played them) but I remember them being shipwrecked, I think,
on a deserted island, maybe, and a romantic dancing/kissing scene with
“Moondance” playing in the background. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I've only once been asked to dance at a wedding (and I've
been to a bunch of weddings over the years) and it was to Anne Murray’s song
(that I've always liked), at Becky and Guy’s wedding, that Jimmy (a guy
from church who I’d known forever) asked me to dance. It ranks as one of the
best moments in my life (and I’m sure he had no idea). Anyone who wants to
romance me need only put one of these songs on and ask me to dance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Walking on Sunshine” Katrina and the Waves<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No matter how old I get, how many songs I hear, I will
always be a child of the 80's, and this song will always make me happy. It just
does.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Renee L. Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14352047664194655349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8270543652163304402.post-665534386199248462015-01-02T16:57:00.001-05:002015-01-02T16:57:55.009-05:00The Christmas card I didn't send, 2014 editionI did not send Christmas cards this year.<br />
<br />
Parent and sibling exceptions. They got special cards.<br />
<br />
Oh, I purchased them -- boxes of adorable sparkly cards at Target -- and I already had some that I've squirreled away for future use in a box at home, along with a cute package of make-your-own cards as well (mostly all purchased at some after-Christmas rock-bottom sale price). Oh, and some nice free cards that came in the mail from some organization or other.<br />
<br />
I love getting cards, especially from friends and family, even those that are just pictures. I'm one of the last relics who also sends cards for birthdays and babies and sympathy and just because. Not many people reciprocate, but that's fine; I don't send cards in order to get more back. I like the old-fashioned and tactile nature of cards.<br />
<br />
This year, the spirit was willing but the flesh was weak, and I was totally exhausted from the semester's end and still needed to do Christmas shopping. Something had to give, and cards were it. So here's the letter that would have gone out with the cards I did not send. Only, since it's online, I can include pictures too!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>The Berrys wander through 2014</i></b></div>
<br />
We rang in the new year on a train with contraband beer and hard cider somewhere between Chicago and Washington DC. We were supposed to be on a train between DC and Savannah, but due to the high volume of freight traffic on the Empire Builder line, we left Minneapolis 2 hours later than expected (not a bad thing, we got to sleep a little more), got into Chicago 6 hours later than expected, then got sent to the Swissotel downtown to spend the night in a king size bed with our own bathroom (a total luxury after spending so much time on a train. We'd left Savannah on December 16.) I won't bore you with more details because you can look back on the blog for pictures and more information.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCojUAVS1vIGakgnemnjXQlNy7RVh6n1-6EBhUeC3G8IZDYwXWXB-up2moG1DKrmxVKT8nLF8_-SSOxPYujLvz7wJHLndej5TIR_U4RVB_GNQD2ZPKAaLncanBzXDdDn4ADBRwU9Mn8XoX/s1600/IMG_3842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCojUAVS1vIGakgnemnjXQlNy7RVh6n1-6EBhUeC3G8IZDYwXWXB-up2moG1DKrmxVKT8nLF8_-SSOxPYujLvz7wJHLndej5TIR_U4RVB_GNQD2ZPKAaLncanBzXDdDn4ADBRwU9Mn8XoX/s1600/IMG_3842.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise from the train, 1 January 2014</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVdmUecmYkzsJpCBylevQGFiuUlN7sQPO2TJVfRDR0zBzxV113zyJJ81q_vp3EvMcMYa3GtLzqHZSElxSCILuoq-AFf30a4R9wn8NPwgL6HARD00V6edWrLz2F-npgv6dihKbj1ZxbA12k/s1600/IMG_3878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVdmUecmYkzsJpCBylevQGFiuUlN7sQPO2TJVfRDR0zBzxV113zyJJ81q_vp3EvMcMYa3GtLzqHZSElxSCILuoq-AFf30a4R9wn8NPwgL6HARD00V6edWrLz2F-npgv6dihKbj1ZxbA12k/s1600/IMG_3878.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A rainbow over Love's Seafood, 11 January 2014</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
We got to spend New Year's day with Gary and Paula in DC (and although I felt like total crap, having picked up some nasty cold somewhere) as they picked us up at Union Station and took us for a marvelous meal at Founding Farmers. It was so good to spend time with them. We headed out for home 2 and a half hours later than expected (train travel is fun but not speedy) and spent the last 12 hours in coach, both of us now coughing and drugged up with antihistamines. We picked up my mom, who'd spent the last 16 days at our house caring for the grandpets: Shadow, Tyger, Lucky, Grafiti, and Greylegs, and headed off to breakfast.<br />
<br />
The rest of January was a blur, with illness, a new semester, and a short trip to Jacksonville to visit Emily filling our time.<br />
<br />
Highlights: a celebratory night downtown at the Inn at Ellis Square for our month-aversary and two old movies at the Lucas Theater. Also, a "snow day" after being sent home from work and a late start the following day....only in Savannah....no, we did not have any snow, or ice, or anything, just cold.<br />
<br />
February brought binging on the Olympics and a visit from my dad and Elaine.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbRa_D1jdvhnIhXbNAGTE-DvM8z8QLZ86nJtq2N1cgg7niJiVK6D58WuQsrbDKIF4IvQ9onMFtAxRVQzW0Ek6gj99P3-U3LhptAANWyZt4KTJpvDy8mGhGpHDbZQDQ5AQNz-SdBezmzSVc/s1600/IMG_3903.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbRa_D1jdvhnIhXbNAGTE-DvM8z8QLZ86nJtq2N1cgg7niJiVK6D58WuQsrbDKIF4IvQ9onMFtAxRVQzW0Ek6gj99P3-U3LhptAANWyZt4KTJpvDy8mGhGpHDbZQDQ5AQNz-SdBezmzSVc/s1600/IMG_3903.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ice on the camellias</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifCHIOu0FqDEuf2AbtC0nMg9EZQxVqp74wN-AUaYJ7ovVtjDo3gcQfzBElAGaS_z1GG7dCWS_a0NhxgWaDRDZffqDL2d0KgZJqmwCNL1SpXeYWH891i1WAR0vtTewqpARJWqMcXdwmSQo_/s1600/IMG_3928.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifCHIOu0FqDEuf2AbtC0nMg9EZQxVqp74wN-AUaYJ7ovVtjDo3gcQfzBElAGaS_z1GG7dCWS_a0NhxgWaDRDZffqDL2d0KgZJqmwCNL1SpXeYWH891i1WAR0vtTewqpARJWqMcXdwmSQo_/s1600/IMG_3928.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First blooms at the end of January</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
March was a marvelous month, beginning with my mother-in-law's 88th birthday on the 1st. We met her friend Dixie for lunch at Sweet Potatoes and had a nice visit. Alzheimer's allowed her a semi-good day, and we are thankful for any time in her company. On the 11th, I was offered a full-time job for the following school year -- just a one-year position, but I was totally thrilled to accept it. On the 16th, Scott turned 54, and we celebrated by going to the gun range and then having dinner at Vincenzo's. My birthday, 44 on the 20th, was celebrated at Pearl's Saltwater Grille with the Beenes and the McCarthys and a marvelous chocolate mint torte from Lulu's. Also, a new macro lens for my camera. Friends from North Dakota arrived on the 22nd, my mom arrived on the 24th, and we ate out a lot and took in as many shows as possible during the Savannah Music Festival.<br />
<br />
Highlights: Bela Fleck and Abigail Washburn, Kristina Train and Pokey Lafarge, Vince Gill, Asif Ali Khan, Ladies Sing the Blues with Catherine Russel and Charenee Wade, Avi Avital, and all the rest of the performers we saw during the most wonderful explosion of music every March/April in Savannah.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6vkdjp0quqXNsiZ6-ujHEfsYbLklPFfbSDQYZZi-f9uD0fPK7Lm3dkg1B2pzGM7oqtV3uYquDG9ZyDLEOr7Z-U0xSgyZ7HCbtTCGOVlqbkGzbggCY9KksBLjuE91e8MHwikpH3PhmnNJT/s1600/IMG_4041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6vkdjp0quqXNsiZ6-ujHEfsYbLklPFfbSDQYZZi-f9uD0fPK7Lm3dkg1B2pzGM7oqtV3uYquDG9ZyDLEOr7Z-U0xSgyZ7HCbtTCGOVlqbkGzbggCY9KksBLjuE91e8MHwikpH3PhmnNJT/s1600/IMG_4041.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smallest church in America, just off GA 17, taken in March</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjdqHGWou_OCqEW09sIVLfKYFKobTf9GPgINhqgR5H8yFbIYucNP9GXoYZ99XwELfusItJZOWBX6V9ewn0wWcDw12TZePP7YtDTEfO_bXrAi7C7nDD3NCZ5O4Zo9lqrEW9UBOSf_TsNdw2/s1600/IMG_4169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjdqHGWou_OCqEW09sIVLfKYFKobTf9GPgINhqgR5H8yFbIYucNP9GXoYZ99XwELfusItJZOWBX6V9ewn0wWcDw12TZePP7YtDTEfO_bXrAi7C7nDD3NCZ5O4Zo9lqrEW9UBOSf_TsNdw2/s1600/IMG_4169.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wisteria in March</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
In April, we saw Nickel Creek and were visited by friends from Elmira who now live in Missouri. I finally ate at Lady and Sons. It was good, and I would eat there again, but I still like Johnny Harris's fried chicken better.<br />
<br />
May began with girlfriends and a Mandisa/Brandon Heath concert at Calvary Baptist. We Presbyterians can get down. The spring semester ended with its usual mass grading and chaos, but we also took in a Sand Gnats ballgame (with Shadow....Bark in the Park) and spent our month-aversary at the Forsyth Park Inn.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkIlgSdg3yn_wUqV7yIIORg_uv5nLibjQNMLyNek-7l3vxV47Rdo_JwL-5LIpMBX6GSu2vwZQcEaaTqGoxXEDA9pWykn4LvhOIvtCQud32WSaD0dcEh7Ewb6NLBS_pje6n5Uq3NjInl5ni/s1600/IMG_4223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkIlgSdg3yn_wUqV7yIIORg_uv5nLibjQNMLyNek-7l3vxV47Rdo_JwL-5LIpMBX6GSu2vwZQcEaaTqGoxXEDA9pWykn4LvhOIvtCQud32WSaD0dcEh7Ewb6NLBS_pje6n5Uq3NjInl5ni/s1600/IMG_4223.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lucky awaits my mom's arrival on the freshly made guest bed.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisS16kkXOXybrXaS-jcfgQpGthdi9UjleQGLZ8pdC_RgbxhPkvm8CqrvPSbeE6EF2L1mbcfIKdonARMtZcqMZS0n5gPTryFlD7y6zEe6EMjat3w9X_79g6MNPSgrJJDYDYvoGz55tQ-zVA/s1600/IMG_4266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisS16kkXOXybrXaS-jcfgQpGthdi9UjleQGLZ8pdC_RgbxhPkvm8CqrvPSbeE6EF2L1mbcfIKdonARMtZcqMZS0n5gPTryFlD7y6zEe6EMjat3w9X_79g6MNPSgrJJDYDYvoGz55tQ-zVA/s1600/IMG_4266.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Iris from 23 May 2014 bouquet</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEDWIbd5cy1rX4UAqRxQgl_RzJ9WhNqhLUsdahyphenhyphenNOUc_EZ_00wLVWBLoJlL6XpoV6tPM9hteZ6RScxEHIVlNeGBZzsCtr98WmbsKybERn2HNA7CXhR2VQh9offRfAjvlcHVVJaNY6S1oBE/s1600/IMG_4280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEDWIbd5cy1rX4UAqRxQgl_RzJ9WhNqhLUsdahyphenhyphenNOUc_EZ_00wLVWBLoJlL6XpoV6tPM9hteZ6RScxEHIVlNeGBZzsCtr98WmbsKybERn2HNA7CXhR2VQh9offRfAjvlcHVVJaNY6S1oBE/s1600/IMG_4280.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Courtyard cottage entrance at Forsythe Park Inn</td></tr>
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In June, Scott and I celebrated 7 years of marriage. Now, I know that's not a long time, but for two people who never expected to get married, it's a great milestone. We spent a few days out on Tybee Island, where we continue to make improvements to the apartment and make it more of a home away from home for us and any out-of-town guests.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grafiti posing</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fireworks at the Sand Gnats game</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finale</td></tr>
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In July, I abandoned my husband for my annual road trip to Elmira, visiting with my Mom and Bob, seeing dear old friends, gathering beer to take home to Scott, eating King Kone and Pudgies and Elbow Room, and Southside Sub Shop (basically, ignoring all my good eating habits for a week). I kidnapped my mother and brought her south with me, stopping to visit Gary and Paula in DC and meandering our way through Virginia on the way home. Once back in Savannah, we all went to the ballpark again for the Gnats, this time for an Armstrong Alumni event and fireworks! The following week was Vacation Bible School where I told stories and floated around doing whatever else was needed. Sent my mom back home then took off with Scott for Asheville, NC. We had a lovely time there, including checking out a Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives restaurant, the Beacon Drive in in Spartanburg, SC and a craft brew festival, as well as a lovely brunch with the Clan Marciniak, who drove all the way over from Charlotte to spend time with us! We left Asheville and took the Blue Ridge Parkway about 45 miles and found a gem in the woods, the Balsam Mountain Inn -- old school, historic charm, no phones, no internet, fantastic food, and one night turned into two as we completely relaxed.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scott and Mom, drenched and waiting at AJ's Dockside on Tybee Island</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scott in Asheville, co-operatively posing.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upstairs porch at Balsam Mountain Inn</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From the switchback driveway, Balsam Mountain Inn.</td></tr>
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August brought searing hot temperatures and lots of orientations and meetings for me as a new full-time employee at Armstrong State University -- my schedule ballooned to five classes with an overload and I braced for the onslaught. Whoo boy, what a semester. Work has basically consumed my life since then, with five classes, 90 students, 1200 essays and weekly writings and response papers to grade. Add to that the Common Read Committee, a Faculty learning community and a Faculty Book Club....and well....good thing Scott took up the laundry (or we'd not have had clean clothes) and the grocery shopping (or we'd not eat....) and was willing to eat out more than usual to pick up my slack -- oh, and of course I got sick too -- so did Scott, some sort of respiratory crud.<br />
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Highlights of the fourth quarter of the year: Clan Marciniak came to Tybee, I took an NRA pistol training course (birthday gift from my gun-loving husband), Lee Child at the Lucas Theater, Keb' Mo at the Lucas and graduation from the Savannah Presbytery's School of the Laity in October.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most of the Clan Marcinak and us at Marlin Monroe's on Tybee</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shadow waits patiently for a treat</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake at Unicoi State Park</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDR_6C58E8yHylw3kAT-0CWoH383hZ9H1Q0ZnizRo9BMXXV_ERTfoEun_20JqJDo5NC9LoFTeEkvf6HHMMLkfHUNz_V03z4sg-N9ldRyRh27H-O1SZyrsT5bv2_NKVAok432uKz7B_Dubo/s1600/IMG_5120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDR_6C58E8yHylw3kAT-0CWoH383hZ9H1Q0ZnizRo9BMXXV_ERTfoEun_20JqJDo5NC9LoFTeEkvf6HHMMLkfHUNz_V03z4sg-N9ldRyRh27H-O1SZyrsT5bv2_NKVAok432uKz7B_Dubo/s1600/IMG_5120.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A foggy day in December, Tybee Island</td></tr>
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We spent the week of Thanksgiving (thankful for a full week off from classes) in a cabin in north Georgia at Unicoi State Park. On Christmas, we volunteered with the Trading Places project and served dinner the Union Mission in the afternoon and helped out at the Ronald McDonald House in the evening. We rang in this new year with a quiet dinner at Troy Restaurant, five minutes from our house, and vegetating in front of the television.<br />
<br />
We lead a pretty quiet life, just us and the critters, and we consider our lives much blessed. "God has done great things for us, and we are glad" was the verse from Psalm 126 printed on our wedding invitation, and this year has been full of great things, from good meals to time with friends, laughter, great music, books, movies, and even television.<br />
<br />
We look forward to hosting visitors in 2015, so y'all come :)<br />
<br />
Much love to you all,<br />
Renee (and Scott too)<br />
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<br />Renee L. Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14352047664194655349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8270543652163304402.post-70735581666148476832014-03-06T21:30:00.002-05:002014-03-06T21:30:58.641-05:00Letting go"Sometimes the best way to hold onto something is to let it go" Unknown. (Yesterday's quote on my page-a-day calendar.)<br />
<br />
The season of Lent began yesterday, and I stumbled through the day, breaking almost all of my own rules by the end of the day. This year, I am endeavouring to be disciplined in my approach, yet still listening to the Spirit.<br />
<br />
To back up a hair, I've been on a self-improvement project since November of 2012. Like most projects, it's a long and complicated process with plenty of bumps and disasters along the way, and I am not even close to being done. I'm not putting an end-date to the project because I don't know what that end looks like. It's not just the weight I need to lose, it's also the need to be fat, the reliance on food for reward or comfort, and the building of an active life where there has been minimal activity in the past.<br />
<br />
It took me six months to not talk myself out of the gym at least once a week, calling in with excuses and lateness and sometimes even genuine sickness and sadness. The next six months, when I began to see changes in my body, slow but steady, I began to see the benefit of the activity and even, occasionally, that endorphin high from working out. The past four and a half months have seen me actually looking forward to going to the gym and trying to add more days of activity into my life (that's been super hard, but I keep trying). I feel like I am being lead to making more changes, this time in my way of eating -- not a diet. Diets don't work. It's a lateral change to healthier eating habits.<br />
<br />
I am not generally an impulsive person (there are some exceptions), and it takes me a long time to think about things and make decisions, so I felt like the Spirit was moving in my life to help me make beneficial changes -- not without fear, but with faith that I can accomplish my goals.<br />
<br />
One of the factors drawing me toward these changes is the growing conviction that eating organic, locally sourced products, and fewer chemicals/artificial whatnots would be better for both me and the environment. Lots of reading and movie-watching have convinced me of this. Again, it's a slow change, like turning around a freighter with a tugboat, but it's slowly becoming a habit. I've eliminated almost all fast food -- still have a Chick-Fil-A or Arby's occasionally, but that's it. I've eliminated soda almost completely and really don't miss it at all.<br />
<br />
I felt like it was time to make the next step. I started looking at juice fasts at the beginning of the year. I want to do a three-day one, and I am going to begin on Monday. I'm going to try to use a local source, but I may also end up using some products obtained at the grocery store. I am not buying a juicer. Too much for me right now. My trainer and I talked about the Daniel Fast, and when I looked at the information, I was intrigued, but once I dug a little deeper, I knew that it was too radical a shift for me -- hard-core vegan -- and I needed to do something do-able. (Otherwise, I will not stick with it.) So here's what I am fasting from during Lent:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>caffeine (I will miss my occasional coffee and my frequent unsweetened iced tea)</li>
<li>bread (sigh. I will miss ALL bread permutations.)</li>
<li>deep fried food (I've been eating less and less of this, but I will miss my fries, fried seafood, etc.)</li>
<li>beef and pork (cheeseburgers and bacon...need I say more)</li>
<li>sugar (literally, my favorite thing in the whole world....this will be tough.)</li>
</ul>
<br />
Part of this discipline to to write about my day and to meditate as well. I've been slowly working my way through a book<i> Forty Days to a Closer Walk With God</i>, and I am going to pick that back up tonight and start over again (for the third time, I think.)<br />
<br />
So, to account for yesterday -- I did have bacon and toast (two pieces of each) for breakfast -- to be fair, my hubby made the meal and he didn't know my guidelines, so I ate what he made (and savored my last bacon and toast). Dinner was at another church before the Lenten service, and I had a delicious vegetarian taco soup and a large salad, oh, and a corn muffin and a homemade brownie. Ah well.<br />
<br />
Today was generally good, although I realized I'd made a mistake after I began drinking the Bolthouse protein drink -- Mocha Cappuccino -- and discovered that they use actual coffee...I'd already opened the container and begun drinking, so I finished it. Then there was the dilemma of the granola bar I'd packed for lunch (along with my Green drink, banana chips, hummus and pita chips). I did not eat the pita chips...will substitute carrots next Thursday...but I did eat the TLC dark chocolate mocha bar. I think, technically, a violation of the sugar prohibition....but dinner will be good (in a few minutes) -- marinated baked snapper, canned peas, garlic quinoa and brown rice. Popcorn later if I am still hungry, and meditation before bed as well.<br />
<br />
Today's calendar says "Like a new bud, each day unfolds in splendid beauty." It might not have been beautiful outside today , but bit by bit, I am working on my inner splendid beauty.Renee L. Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14352047664194655349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8270543652163304402.post-53472711174855611592014-01-19T01:52:00.001-05:002014-01-19T01:52:05.683-05:00Planes, trains and....buses?<br /><b id="docs-internal-guid-0b743979-a932-24e7-f970-1f8b5501eec6" style="font-weight: normal;">Yikes. Has it really been more than two weeks since we returned to Savannah on January 2, both of us sleep-deprived and hatching nasty respiratory junk (which we are both still fighting...ugh). Yes, it has. Well. Between sickness and getting ready for the new semester, which started this past week, and leaving this post on my tablet...things just got lost in the shuffle. Here's the final post I wrote on the trip, and I will write a new blog tomorrow (yes, I really will.) <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Written 30 December 2013</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The year grinds to a close and we are once again boarding a train, leaving behind the Twin Cities, the Mall of America, and the midwestern branch of the family. Last night, in the frenzy of stuffing all our things back into the bags (why is it that there's MORE each time I pack? Perhaps the Mall of America and the Sportsman's Guide have something to do with this phenomenon...must investigate further)....anyway, we get an email from the helpful people of Amtrak letting us know that there are issues with our trip the next day and it might involve "alternate transportation." Hmmm. This does not bode well. Hubby gets on the phone and discovers that due to probable lateness (hah! Probable....) we might be riding a bus to Chicago. Although it has been and still is colder than hell here, I think we might have just crossed over into a circle. So we (meaning I) continue to pack. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am a firm believer in not worrying about things I cannot impact, although for sure, my sub-conscious does not always go along. So I set the alarm for 6:15 and try to sleep. Both iphone users in the house have downloaded the Amtrak app (which lies like a rug) and it says that the train will be on time. It is -8 outside. -11 on a bank on the way. Ugh. So glad to be heading back to "winter" in Savannah. After a drive-thru breakfast, we arrive at the station, no train or buses in evidence, and find that the train is scheduled to arrive at 8:15, just a half-hour or so late. We make our way to the sleeper car lounge, which I have to say, as an aside, makes me feel like we're celebrities, whisked into a private enclave with comfy couches, coffee (free) and a tv, while the huddled masses crammed into the oh-so-comfortable bucket chair conglomerations look at us with a little bit of hate. My dad hangs for a little bit. Train now arriving at 8:45. Now 9:15. Now 9:40. Dad heads home and we hunker down to wait.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Great! No bus trip to Chicago. The connection will be tight, but we will make it. We finally board around 9:45, find our roomette, hubby pulls down the top bunk and I steal the blanket, unable to get warm today, and settle into the seat.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The tracks are cold, which is problematic. There is freight traffic too. We make s l o w progress across Minnesota, into Wisconsin (yay cheese) finally stopping for good twice. The first time we sat for maybe a half-hour while some repair was made. The second time, just minutes from the Wisconsin Dells, it's a two plus hour wait, complete with bags of snacks and lots of apologies over the PA.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We are finally on the move, but it is clear we will not make our connection (which is scheduled to leave in about 10 minutes) and this will screw up our lunch date with my brother and sister-in-law in DC, but we will see what comes next....stay tuned.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihrzoeNCKomfdI15447MdUtL93JR_qlibhOjffiq27BkkKtKCPcrYlJ2hHY2w5bpocpZWVbRd04FHLsXBxOlJsd0FJztnT0SfDH7rCQar3YRKc1wEIRmax-1SLKBWe7jW6blVRNR1iC1wq/s1600/IMG_3753.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihrzoeNCKomfdI15447MdUtL93JR_qlibhOjffiq27BkkKtKCPcrYlJ2hHY2w5bpocpZWVbRd04FHLsXBxOlJsd0FJztnT0SfDH7rCQar3YRKc1wEIRmax-1SLKBWe7jW6blVRNR1iC1wq/s1600/IMG_3753.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brrrrr. Cold, snowy day on the train.</td></tr>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Update:</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dateline: Chicago 31 December 2013</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Each delay we've experienced, teaching us lessons in patience and equanimity, has worked out in our favor. This one is perhaps the best. We arrive into Chicago's Union Station three and a half hours after our train to DC has left and as the other option is boarding. With no guarantee of a roomette, we take our carryons over to the long line of people at passenger services, where we are provided with a voucher for $44 and a room at the Swissotel on East Wacker. After a slushy cab ride, we arrive at one of the nicest hotels I've ever stayed at, upgraded to a king sized bed, a huge bathroom, plugs galore and a view of the iconic skyline for the night. From the window by the elevators, there is a view of the Navy Pier and Lake Michigan. For a little more money, we arrange a late checkout, walk to a local restaurant, Eggy's, where we have a stellar breakfast and are able to relax before heading back out into the snow and cold.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">See the pictures for our constantly changing weather....</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhViZdcJMsSSbvGnnl3vf5eMqeihz74Gt6fYK-cVRHF__Nfc7vpWcUdYsWO0wtq4qc67GL-D7131LmfG5vh3MXZw5yzOo0pkBDJHJGbQj_GQwQSPl-bW37cEwvtAWlLKIQ1BPz7fgcOxuuK/s1600/IMG_3773.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhViZdcJMsSSbvGnnl3vf5eMqeihz74Gt6fYK-cVRHF__Nfc7vpWcUdYsWO0wtq4qc67GL-D7131LmfG5vh3MXZw5yzOo0pkBDJHJGbQj_GQwQSPl-bW37cEwvtAWlLKIQ1BPz7fgcOxuuK/s1600/IMG_3773.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Night time from our hotel room 30 Dec 2013</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBbl8nDHotgNfqa2g84SyBkNr824HZoihf8rgJ4nBvml4vO-eL9AP7HAi4c5S79LTVvasgtNAcNCw-mu7VhzH9XzcyukNYKCrR03Bw3CMRejaKLTPbtSquwf_oxQfVzegXzZZR2fJKa4OB/s1600/IMG_3775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBbl8nDHotgNfqa2g84SyBkNr824HZoihf8rgJ4nBvml4vO-eL9AP7HAi4c5S79LTVvasgtNAcNCw-mu7VhzH9XzcyukNYKCrR03Bw3CMRejaKLTPbtSquwf_oxQfVzegXzZZR2fJKa4OB/s1600/IMG_3775.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day view, morning 31 Dec 2013<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZHmzb2_ehytLN6jHjFLlOChzDFrXmbWzrHZ1MbNtXFyWG5998avd4jXreqA1ErX4J_NO4FxDoZ4GwXDLOUw_KAb2SkvzzavoQImSP3blE5wUJUwvLu4iaWOUdsc_jrCq9U1SejFa0Thn/s1600/IMG_3785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZHmzb2_ehytLN6jHjFLlOChzDFrXmbWzrHZ1MbNtXFyWG5998avd4jXreqA1ErX4J_NO4FxDoZ4GwXDLOUw_KAb2SkvzzavoQImSP3blE5wUJUwvLu4iaWOUdsc_jrCq9U1SejFa0Thn/s1600/IMG_3785.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day view, early afternoon 31 Dec 2013</td></tr>
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Renee L. Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14352047664194655349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8270543652163304402.post-9065870094855426612013-12-26T17:14:00.000-05:002013-12-26T17:14:06.372-05:00Eye candy<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvjoQMMjcayqpInCNgRteJe3apWF0mKmKWapKWms_cwIG1XK2rA8pi1Pl5fFjvVIIPldYicalrS07diYnujKnRBPp67KO_H83ThdWVK59ReX8ht2hyLRGlFtlkVu-J8WC0Q8l5i5gnZeGJ/s1600/IMG_3695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvjoQMMjcayqpInCNgRteJe3apWF0mKmKWapKWms_cwIG1XK2rA8pi1Pl5fFjvVIIPldYicalrS07diYnujKnRBPp67KO_H83ThdWVK59ReX8ht2hyLRGlFtlkVu-J8WC0Q8l5i5gnZeGJ/s320/IMG_3695.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mid-day on December 23. Berry Ranch.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise from the Empire Builder, heading east somewhere in MN (8:46 EST)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise from the Empire Builder, heading east...35 minutes later (9:20 EST)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise from the Empire Builder, heading east....10 minutes later (9:33 EST)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking out the back of the train</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crossing the Mississippi River somewhere west of Minneapolis</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steam from a factory west of Minneapolis</td></tr>
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<br />Renee L. Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14352047664194655349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8270543652163304402.post-6135709623285743982013-12-26T16:59:00.001-05:002013-12-26T16:59:26.835-05:00Reflections on a few days on the Montana/North Dakota borderAfter our arrival on the 19th, it was dark by the time we reached our hotel in Syndey, MT, a small town graced by a few new stoplights since my last visit in 2007 (and a new grocery store or two as well). One of the best things about Sydney is Sunny's Restaurant, a charming and excellent breakfast/lunch place on one of the main corners in town. We ate there four times during our stay -- one day when my hubby was feeling crappy, they graciously served him oatmeal for lunch, while I chowed down on the absolute best hot roast beef sandwich I've ever had...with a side of real mashed potatoes. They are only open until 2 or 3, so you gotta get there early. Every waitress we had was pleasant and friendly, and the food was delicious. They were always hopping too.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steam rising from the sugar beet processing factory in Sydney, MT</td></tr>
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One of the side-effects of the Bakken boom is that many local businesses keep more limited hours and find it difficult to keep help. If you can go out and find a job on an oil rig operation, you'll make way more money. (Much more dangerous and cold too.) In our adventures in eating, on Saturday night, we made our way back to Sydney about 6:30 to get some dinner and hole up in the hotel room for the night. Hubby tells me about the great KFC location, so we head there. All is dark. They are closed for the night. Ok, plan two....McDonald's. Also dark. They closed at 5 p.m. (I mean, really? 5 p.m.) The Pizza Hut was doing a booming business, but we'd just had pizza the previous night at a local place -- Panini's Pizzeria -- pretty good....so we didn't really want pizza again. Plan three. Taco John's, a regional chain with good Mexican fast food. It's snowing pretty hard and we pull into the parking area at 6:59....just as they close and lock the door. Sorry, drive through only. Well, shit. So we trundle next door to the Pizza House -- a local institution that puts out great pizza -- and eat cheese burgers for dinner. But I did get to play a game of Ms. Pac Man, so the night was not a total loss.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcw4sErOKbfU-QZCsULKgb4BgXxZt1uN-bdWuzFnVp0vJ9vB-0Oexjw9TnzY3pgxX-JiGK-eqD8pVdbhBTxLr4c2S0D0b_19_gIARYLzwAZYH2BVEeqH-43IJvP1OJvsh877YG5C4zpoZx/s1600/IMG_3686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcw4sErOKbfU-QZCsULKgb4BgXxZt1uN-bdWuzFnVp0vJ9vB-0Oexjw9TnzY3pgxX-JiGK-eqD8pVdbhBTxLr4c2S0D0b_19_gIARYLzwAZYH2BVEeqH-43IJvP1OJvsh877YG5C4zpoZx/s320/IMG_3686.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What movie is playing, you ask? Why, _Frozen_ of course.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtOFjjxH1ZbCBLJHQi8tv19vaBlXHvuHQOFlpnCXNvJybvYdQlH0XUktuKjWw6TiS6i2hbFKbVhYU1_mn7iyz4NdTesbUShHF4Eg7zk0hlGNYM9fJnWCZcIiASGnWKovKModhZE04QbcBN/s1600/IMG_3690.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtOFjjxH1ZbCBLJHQi8tv19vaBlXHvuHQOFlpnCXNvJybvYdQlH0XUktuKjWw6TiS6i2hbFKbVhYU1_mn7iyz4NdTesbUShHF4Eg7zk0hlGNYM9fJnWCZcIiASGnWKovKModhZE04QbcBN/s320/IMG_3690.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photographic proof...and this was not the coldest it was during our stay.</td></tr>
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We pay a visit to the Berry Ranch, visit with hubby's cousins, conduct the exciting business that we came all this way for, drive around a bit and see the changes that time and oil shale development has wrought, and then we are once again boarding the train, this time only to Minneapolis to spend Christmas with my dad and the mid-west branch of my little family.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbkXWotd9o8ON29-L_o9b5MjeRRFE7Ltdt5hyphenhyphen8_w2jgBeNdX4dhyphenhyphen4TqKzeaNCGguqPiPpHPEGNwDNz-0gODQb5cM9jC2NXxgysbG5qHKdhcbHF1BipUaA1JAPVXaOURMYdFNsWyafRrY1/s1600/IMG_3678.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbkXWotd9o8ON29-L_o9b5MjeRRFE7Ltdt5hyphenhyphen8_w2jgBeNdX4dhyphenhyphen4TqKzeaNCGguqPiPpHPEGNwDNz-0gODQb5cM9jC2NXxgysbG5qHKdhcbHF1BipUaA1JAPVXaOURMYdFNsWyafRrY1/s320/IMG_3678.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hills outside Sydney, MT</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fence and sky, MT</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk5yfcjPwCYgwbwIlIRDCHdDW_voT2Fwb6kaxT1XvJF1MnJOvr_iDMhE3-aNv73-DLBc_DrsTrw-d_V9r6nOKV4r1ROKJ9SAf7d8AIU4kLKhxYMztH_dwAIcEhRZxzoIb5MPDNciLgxiqS/s1600/IMG_3665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk5yfcjPwCYgwbwIlIRDCHdDW_voT2Fwb6kaxT1XvJF1MnJOvr_iDMhE3-aNv73-DLBc_DrsTrw-d_V9r6nOKV4r1ROKJ9SAf7d8AIU4kLKhxYMztH_dwAIcEhRZxzoIb5MPDNciLgxiqS/s320/IMG_3665.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Berry Ranch outhouse. Brrrrrrrr.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-1qxhyphenhyphenlRfMJ2XQledX4wi2gO0iEuGj881SaMRahaTdKfAyVQuJlKFfQR4p_-gAEhL1vEEw9HolotbcKB-yorNJdhRBDmBl4v2xNi6-3LIYyBNhSLxrdV5MNJXJhSUON161OaqEN6AvcG0/s1600/IMG_3692.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-1qxhyphenhyphenlRfMJ2XQledX4wi2gO0iEuGj881SaMRahaTdKfAyVQuJlKFfQR4p_-gAEhL1vEEw9HolotbcKB-yorNJdhRBDmBl4v2xNi6-3LIYyBNhSLxrdV5MNJXJhSUON161OaqEN6AvcG0/s320/IMG_3692.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ft. Union Trading Post, a reconstruction of the 1830s era trading post...not too far from the Berry Ranch.</td></tr>
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<br />Renee L. Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14352047664194655349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8270543652163304402.post-34800395929466347732013-12-26T16:12:00.000-05:002013-12-26T16:12:50.777-05:00Arrival<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 1; white-space: pre-wrap;">Written mid-day Thursday, December 19</span></div>
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<b id="docs-internal-guid-2c9c843e-30b5-60a2-9da7-cd98fc8c65df" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Remember when I said it was cold a day or so ago. I was so wrong. Now, it's cold. When hubby talked to his cousin, who was out on the tractor feeding the cows, it was -3. Yup. Negative numbers. When math started to get complicated...</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Where does ice cream come from? All those cold cows huddled in the blowing snow out in the middle of the field.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsaEgzwqS0Duetnza8h9JPxQx1FICzJqzh6_zTu_pR9hhrkEx08GJwHVQUvuhkKmWa4D0Fc70LEGhThCjujcSihY84_FjLcQd53VuwsUEtCa22PmhL1e_uYnCglq16Ct2DTI52U0vOCyfx/s1600/IMG_3641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsaEgzwqS0Duetnza8h9JPxQx1FICzJqzh6_zTu_pR9hhrkEx08GJwHVQUvuhkKmWa4D0Fc70LEGhThCjujcSihY84_FjLcQd53VuwsUEtCa22PmhL1e_uYnCglq16Ct2DTI52U0vOCyfx/s320/IMG_3641.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We passed through Rugby, ND, the geographical center of North America. Cool, huh?</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyQ45i5ucOQ8g2dtwmWD-MT_pu7BR7jwkaOtkhr9cA1l_MP-hlroSEUqEmtQ9kGA1dfjb1qiQtB2YzTy-WwaC6BMbxMuF2UNqakDU_LDmKlPnkAeaahQloGyV5htBO7I9aqKzxtbVRrb1i/s1600/IMG_3657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyQ45i5ucOQ8g2dtwmWD-MT_pu7BR7jwkaOtkhr9cA1l_MP-hlroSEUqEmtQ9kGA1dfjb1qiQtB2YzTy-WwaC6BMbxMuF2UNqakDU_LDmKlPnkAeaahQloGyV5htBO7I9aqKzxtbVRrb1i/s320/IMG_3657.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trees against the hillside<br /></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There is a really stark and terrible beauty to these landscapes. The gently rolling hills, dotted with trees, stubble from crops and dried long grasses poking through the snow. Spare wire fences mark boundary lines for property whose residences may be miles, or at least acres away. Can you imagine the terror and anticipation of those first settlers coming across the prairies in their wagons, oxen trundling along, not knowing what to expect? </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQgb92pC8FjFWRkf-0B2hRABHzX8hG11CYwE_PLwyQZxOzvdt9lShL4VGiDYbn_nm8K3m1Pfy6Ac8gDsHhFcewAiGcgJMyCgQUYklbXR_QQIzbFbtZIWlL7q78rA3JzV3cTXBmOZhtpju/s1600/IMG_3648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQgb92pC8FjFWRkf-0B2hRABHzX8hG11CYwE_PLwyQZxOzvdt9lShL4VGiDYbn_nm8K3m1Pfy6Ac8gDsHhFcewAiGcgJMyCgQUYklbXR_QQIzbFbtZIWlL7q78rA3JzV3cTXBmOZhtpju/s320/IMG_3648.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So, if you look closely at the center of the picture, there's a large hoofed animal, perhaps an elk, on the hillside.</td></tr>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b><br />
<br /><b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Minot, ND shows the boom of the Bakken development, with oil and gas holding tanks and tanker cars everywhere. As you further west into North Dakota, you will see more and more drilling pads, wells and drilling activity. The train travel suffers because the tracks are owned by the BNSF (Burlington Northern Santa Fe) and their freight trains take precedence, so the Amtrak trains pull over and wait. And wait. And wait.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSNY1cmwf5HbMH6vHHYG4crVwLKcFxhiZofwFEPNND5rErpKvaNPRJRWPkR5Uta3jtCSAtbFhWpmle19qTNSK_zBBVMKvpP3qFEkQchE619gNo2NOWDdY8Uq_qe9fTJSrZgPmjolp0SCgX/s1600/IMG_3653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSNY1cmwf5HbMH6vHHYG4crVwLKcFxhiZofwFEPNND5rErpKvaNPRJRWPkR5Uta3jtCSAtbFhWpmle19qTNSK_zBBVMKvpP3qFEkQchE619gNo2NOWDdY8Uq_qe9fTJSrZgPmjolp0SCgX/s320/IMG_3653.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A line of tanker cars passes by...</td></tr>
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<br /><span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We finally arrive at our final destination, Williston, ND only three hours late. The snow crunches underfoot as we make our way to the tiny station, collecting our big bags (which are dusted with snow...not sure why...perhaps Amtrak has an open baggage car?) The girls from the car rental place come to collect us and we are soon on our way to Sidney, MT and our motel. Haul bags in, unpack, collapse and sleep deeply.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBXMNB9rJ2e89EDj25vwaS2XMbDH-nClY0bjclATf0l_7O_knda-CTgRGqyiuHiu-fxjVMoy-sURd4zjcwPLNce0zscddKGQZNs5ZVVXDsHCb4L-w6qsW0y-lVJ7A4FJFYXhRFffLT91Gh/s1600/IMG_3660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; white-space: normal;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBXMNB9rJ2e89EDj25vwaS2XMbDH-nClY0bjclATf0l_7O_knda-CTgRGqyiuHiu-fxjVMoy-sURd4zjcwPLNce0zscddKGQZNs5ZVVXDsHCb4L-w6qsW0y-lVJ7A4FJFYXhRFffLT91Gh/s320/IMG_3660.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Montana hillside<br /></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
Renee L. Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14352047664194655349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8270543652163304402.post-66022935455356340212013-12-26T15:59:00.001-05:002013-12-26T16:13:27.828-05:00The third and final leg of the trip begins<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Written on Wednesday, December 18</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-50ea976e-30aa-5a9f-fad7-2543bbdbd13b" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Day three began early (again) with another mostly sleepless night. I watched </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pittsburgh roll past, lightly snowing as the lights twinkled. Then I dozed for a bit and woke up as Cleveland's red-lit skyline passed. The next time I came to consciousness, the sun was rising and we were a couple of hours away from Chicago. We arrived late, but that was no big deal, just less time to wait around in the lounge for the final leg of our trek to Montana. We boarded and found our roomette, this time on the first floor, so we did not have to schlep our bags up the narrow winding stairs to the upper rooms. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDEjKY45z8dVzCTMKLUEDCgOlF9m6kdNLM3pYfLX8Hzv6Af-BvuPE3YRLDyFgSZAntoYQc9tBY5ZoN1bEuC_ZGfhujhKk1FVqY27aXttPq7fNKvDl2T0ubJ03ewpIxH6S6Id87aEu_JW6T/s1600/IMG_3610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDEjKY45z8dVzCTMKLUEDCgOlF9m6kdNLM3pYfLX8Hzv6Af-BvuPE3YRLDyFgSZAntoYQc9tBY5ZoN1bEuC_ZGfhujhKk1FVqY27aXttPq7fNKvDl2T0ubJ03ewpIxH6S6Id87aEu_JW6T/s320/IMG_3610.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chicago as seen from the train.</td></tr>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Overall, train travel is WAY more civilized than airlines. You can take more stuff with you, you are not subjected to the dubious "security" provided by the TSA's invasive searching of your bags and your person. You don't even go through a metal detector, nor did we have to show eight forms of ID and promise our first-born child to get on board. There is more space to move about and more personal space, even in coach. Oh, and they still feed you! Pretty darn good meals too...and there are snacks and drinks and alcohol for purchase (reasonably priced). The drawback, of course is the time. We will arrive in Williston, ND tomorrow morning after two and a half days of travel, when the plane, even with multiple stops, would have been there within a half a day. But hey, it's the experience that matters. If you are open to it, there are all sorts of people to engage with.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now, I am off to experience the on-board shower because I can no longer tolerate my icky hair and we shall see how that goes.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSYdOfql397KpgGY1ZPnBXRlGitho2Wk9HxnWBZvL2OGb2zr4AI3CoAUZ0cELjZ-I4kyzl7l52r9d5S1Mj2jBUNIZzL4nloH0kTQdNiKf_Qy-AkmgB3pJZAsOnWL4GKIvGLRJkCssTlb_q/s1600/IMG_3617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSYdOfql397KpgGY1ZPnBXRlGitho2Wk9HxnWBZvL2OGb2zr4AI3CoAUZ0cELjZ-I4kyzl7l52r9d5S1Mj2jBUNIZzL4nloH0kTQdNiKf_Qy-AkmgB3pJZAsOnWL4GKIvGLRJkCssTlb_q/s320/IMG_3617.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset I</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvGNKzg0e2g4KbHVp_5ztJBvOWLDNvyZt80WqxmRk1XG8wB_mqAL0KzvDtEOLSNyXR6GXvAD4IQjfLjT3-LLD1FKe614CzEv9RHOZhQ8XkdX3xqElu6PDqTQjsC7KsOF_A1qG0-hl_knCY/s1600/IMG_3621.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvGNKzg0e2g4KbHVp_5ztJBvOWLDNvyZt80WqxmRk1XG8wB_mqAL0KzvDtEOLSNyXR6GXvAD4IQjfLjT3-LLD1FKe614CzEv9RHOZhQ8XkdX3xqElu6PDqTQjsC7KsOF_A1qG0-hl_knCY/s320/IMG_3621.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset II</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw0_4P_R4q4PnUQOtjXT4y27nSFW_2EBsUqzRSRAp1G7_S5MqqHwRTdGGuGV136V16oMPJE3v3RK0GXn8TaK5OWgQyJdA7yqmrXzd1z_dUWLmyVFWHmYVxMwy_c13XN3mHYtng-V3jC8-0/s1600/IMG_3623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw0_4P_R4q4PnUQOtjXT4y27nSFW_2EBsUqzRSRAp1G7_S5MqqHwRTdGGuGV136V16oMPJE3v3RK0GXn8TaK5OWgQyJdA7yqmrXzd1z_dUWLmyVFWHmYVxMwy_c13XN3mHYtng-V3jC8-0/s320/IMG_3623.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flight of birds</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span>Renee L. Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14352047664194655349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8270543652163304402.post-13606548151684266292013-12-18T13:00:00.000-05:002013-12-18T13:00:30.210-05:00It's getting c o l d in here.<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Written late Tuesday, December 17</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tuesday dawns over Washington, DC with grey skies and hints of pink. Sleep? What sleep? I often do not sleep well when I travel. All my routines are off and it's hard to find the comfort I find in my own bed. The tiny roomette turns out to be more spacious than we first noticed when hubby climbs up into the top bunk and finds a nice storage space for some of our bags. He says goodnight, I turn out the light, and he's snoring two minutes later. Darn him. I put on a meditation podcast. It's nice and I am feeling tired (it is 1:30 am) but the podcast ends, and I can't get comfortable. Too hot. Too cold. Blankets too tight. Untuck everything. Move the bag to another location so I can stretch out fully. Listen to Edgar Meyer play the Bach cello concertos. Listen to the train whistle. Rock side to side as we rush around the curves. Right side. Left side. Flat on my back. Listen to another meditation podcast. Peek out the window as tiny towns roll past. Listen to my husband snore. Finally, sometime around 4:30 or 5 am, I do doze off, only to be wide awake a little after 6 and a little over an hour from DC. I watch the sky gradually lighten, listen to Aaron Copeland and the trainman knocks on the door to make sure we are awake to get off the train.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-7d7bfdcd-06c4-8b33-c696-69e8122f14aa" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Damn! It is COLD here. I can see my breath as we trudge down the platform towards the station. I have not yet given in to the temptation of the wintercoat in my bag. In front of me, a lady tumbles backwards down the up escalator. With my hands full, I can do nothing but watch as station employees rush to stop the escalator and help her up. I trudge on past to the elevator and hold the door as my spouse catches up with me. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Upstairs, the mass of commuters rush from place to place, intent on their destinstion, clutching their Starbucks and commuter mugs, yapping on their ever-present phones, and navigating the complex routes through the station maze. We find the Amtrak Acela lounge, stow our bags and go off in search of breakfast. McDonald's aquired, we eat in luxurious slowness, talking, reading, looking around. Outside the window, I see a place where homeless people sleep next to the building. A man asks for a dollar, and I give it to him because my heart hurts to even contemplete someone sleeping outside on the freezing concrete and begging for food and money from strangers in the nation's capitol.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The hours pass slowly despite internet access and free coffee. The televisions are tuned to two 24 hour news networks who rehash and recycle the same stories, tweaking a detail here and there and trotting out a new passel of talking heads to endlessly debate whatever has captured the miniscule attention of the station. I give in to my winter coat because the lounge is FREEZING, and once I get warm and semi-comfortable, I fall asleep on the couch, having a nice little nap. Hubby wakes me, and we head downstairs to the multi-ethnic food court for dinner, and then, all too soon, we are trudging back out in the cold to board the next leg of our train journey: the Capitol Limited to Chicago.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If possible, today's roomette is smaller than yesterday's, but we manage to cram ourselves and our stuff inside, where we read and look out the window until darkness arrives, far too early, and then we nap until dinner at 6:30. Dinner is lovely (better than last night) and we eat across from a mom and daughter on their way to Indiana for Christmas. After a delicious chocolate mousse parfait (for me) and not-delicious baklava left over from lunch for hubby, we hang downstairs in the cafe for a bit. (and I write.)</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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Renee L. Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14352047664194655349noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8270543652163304402.post-66060926252287639982013-12-18T12:31:00.002-05:002013-12-18T13:02:20.289-05:00Leaving on a ...train<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Written on Monday, December 16.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The journey began today with the usual running aroud like chickens with our heads removed; last minute errands to the banks, post office, drug store, Chik-Fil-A, and my office. We also worked in one final workout before 17 days of train travel, hotels, visiting, and uncertain food. It was go go go, all day long, with only a few minutes here and there to check email and Facebook and set the DVR. Left behind in Savannah today, my mother, hanging with the cats and dog, probably cleaning something as we speak. After cramming everything we possibly could into our over-stuffed suitcases, laptop bag, book bag and overnight/travel bag, we load into the Jeep and race out the southwest bypass to the Amtrak station, located in a wasteland of industrial warehouses and whatnot. Praise God, they called and said the train was running an hour late. Praise Him again because when we called while driving like bats out of hell, they told my husband that the train was not expected until 8:55...almost an hour and a half late. We make it to the station, park, unload, check our bags, print the tickets, and now I can breathe a sigh of relief and relax. It is all in Amtrak's hands now, our coming and going, our rising and sleeping, our eating and, well, you get the picture.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-4f900b5a-06b7-df21-cf0a-f897d3fd304a" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is only my third train trip here in the US (I took a marvelous train trip when in Norway in 2001...) but my first US train trip took place in 2006 when I drove from NY to Montana with my fiance, then took the train from Williston, ND to Pittsburgh, PA to attend a friend's wedding. That trip was a lot of fun, despite being in coach the whole way, not sleeping for something like 36 hours and my camera battery dying as we came in sight of Chicago. This time, my now-husband and I are travelling with roomettes all the way. Already, I feel more civilized. We boarded, dropped our carryons and headed one car away to the dining car where we had a nice meal and coffee and then wove our way to the club car to read and for me to be able to write this. There's no wifi yet, so it will be at least tomorrow before I can post this...</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span>Renee L. Berryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14352047664194655349noreply@blogger.com0