Posts Tagged ‘travel’

The road leading off the main road continues past the “driveway” to my s-i-l’s house, past another house, and into the forest where, however, it becomes a trail rather than a road.  It’s the perfect place for a walk: past piles of cut trees, ant hills, another house, alongside the meadow, flowers everywhere, ancient stones covered with moss.  Perhaps there’s a bit of Celtic magic somewhere as well.

© janet m. webb

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(Have you read any of the old books where the chapter titles are like my post title?) While waiting to find out whether or not our daughter’s flight will eventually leave Philadelphia (some weather issues somewhere), let’s look at my thankfully not-delayed flight to France three weeks ago.

Check-in went fine, but for some reason, both my carry-on bags were pulled aside to be hand-checked.  I have no idea why and of course, they’re not about to tell me, but finally they realized that I am an innocent (wo)man (thanks, Billy Joel) and I was through, onto my wait on the other side.  I spent as much time as possible walking, as I’d be sitting for most of the six hour or so flight.  Here’s a bit of O’Hare Airport art I passed a number of times.

© janet m. webb

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Leavin’ on a jet plane

Posted: May 29, 2017 in Travel
Tags: , , , ,

It’s that time of year again, time for a trip to France and, because of that, time for a cyber break.  But you know I’ll be taking hundreds of photos that I’ll share with you when I get home, so in the meantime, those of you in my hemisphere, have a glorious spring.  For those of you in the southern half of the world, may fall be colorful.  See you in June.

© janet m. webb

After our visit it Tony Packo’s in Toledo, Ohio, I took a quick shot of this bit of street art from the car while we were stopped at a light.  (I was the passenger.)  And yes, I like Abba.

© janet m. webb

Another hot, humid summer-in-spring day on tap for the Chicago area.  This morning I found that the spammers had been out in force on WordPress, depositing 84 comments in my spam folder and 3 that slipped through.  That’s a record!  Spammers, get a life.  Go outside or write a book or something useful.

Today’s WordPress Photo Challenge theme is: “Heritage.”

When I backpacked around Europe for almost a year in the mid-seventies, I stayed in a number of B&B’s in Ireland, England, and Scotland, all with marvelous breakfasts, complete with wake-up cups of tea.  However, I was not at all used to tea and tea so strong it could probably have stood without a cup or pot.  Diluted half and half with milk, I could drink it, but by the time I returned to England prior to returning home, I was drinking it straight, just as I do today.  Having a cup (or pot) of tea on the patio in France on a cool morning is a tradition I’m looking forward to enjoying again soon, but a cuppa anytime, anywhere, unadulterated is an inherited heritage I treasure.

© janet m. webb

Some Saturday mornings during college, I would walk downtown (I went to college in a small town) and get a fresh glazed doughnut (not donut!) at the bakery.  It was so delicious and with my metabolism, I never had to worry about the calories.

However, during high school, my first job was waiting tables at a cafe and doughnut shop.  I would come home from work exhausted and reeking of the smell of the grease in which the doughnuts were fried.  Later, after college, I worked for a time in a health food store in Steamboat Springs, Colorado (yes, they made and sold doughnuts there, ironically,)  I’d arrive in the morning to see the doughnuts draining and although the smell wasn’t as intense as at the cafe, it was enough to put me off eating doughnuts for quite some time, just as in high school.

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In 1976, M*A*S*H’s Corporal Klinger says, “If you are ever in Toledo, Ohio, on the Hungarian side of town, Tony Packo’s got the greatest Hungarian hot dogs”, putting Tony Packo’s on the world map.   But the Toledo, Ohio icon actually had its beginnings back in 1932, when Tony and his wife Rose opened their sandwich and ice cream shop at the beginning of the Great Depression with a $100 family loan.

© janet m. webb 2017

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