Getting My Yankee On

It is confirmed:  sometimes you actually can't get there from here.

Late Sunday afternoon, after Irene had made her appearance, I headed out to work in Boston. Usually, it is a 5-6 minute drive from Route 148 to the Pike.  Sunday was a bit different.  Route 20 was flooded in front of Yankee Peddler near Yankee Candle. This was the scene of the road being washed out a few years ago during a wicked fall storm that flooded a lot of our town.  The culvert under the street is not wide enough to handle a swollen stream from a severe storm, so it comes up onto the road and into Yankee Peddler.  A digital sign board warned me of what was to come.  I grabbed a coffee at Dunkin's, and I headed to Arnold Road with the plan to take a right on Cooper and shoot over to Cedar Street.  Right before I got to Cooper Road I shook my head and said something like, "You dolt, Wally.  There is always water seeping onto Cooper Road".  Sure enough Cooper road had a saw horse in the road with a sign proclaiming the road was closed.

(sigh)

Back to Route 20, and right turn to Holland Road.  My Plan was to turn left onto Holland Road, and go up Douty Road to Stallion Hill Road and back down to Route 20.  Douty is elevated, shouldn't have any flooding there.

I drove to Douty, and there in the middle of the road was another sign stating the same message as the last one.  I didn't think about downed trees blocking the road.

I was running out of local route options to get to the turnpike.  I had one more viable route:  Finlay Road.

I drove further on, took a left onto Finlay, and drove up to the top of the hill.  There was a lot of tree debris on the road, and along side the road.  When I came to Leadmine Road, I turned left, and headed to Route 20.  I hoped to reach it, I was out of options.

After a few minutes, I was at Route 20, on my way to Shaw's to return a movie at Red Box, and then onto Boston via the turnpike.

Whew.

My 30 minute inconvenience cannot be compared to others who lost belongings, and property due to the water and wind, and to the loss of life elsewhere on the east coast during the storm.  It just shows that we were all affected in big and small ways by storms.

Another thing my thirty minute maze-craze adventure could do is bring a little smile to your face as you imagine a middle-aged local man, armed to the teeth with the latest in GPS, poking his car into roads all over town like a mouse looking for a piece of cheddar, only to be  moved further, and further away from where he wanted to be.

For a short time late Sunday afternoon, I really couldn't get there from here, and I felt more yankee than I ever had before.

Ayuh.

Oh, #@$%

This does not look good.

Take A Break; It Is Meant to Be

Life lessons are only that if learned, otherwise what transpires is annoying, and often ignored.  Touch a hot stove, and most of us won't do it again.  Work for months and months without a respite, and you will begin to unravel.  This is one of the life's teachings that is ignored so much so that reminders are considered annoying, and we will block them.

Not a good decision.  When we begin to come undone we aren't playing our best game.  Our streams of thought are fuzzy, we make poor choices, we slip out of character, and act out.  Our job performance suffers, our relationships suffer.

Reasons are many as to why we let this happen.  Too many to get into, but what we can get into is how to make it better.  First off, just stop.  Stop moving so fast.  Stand still.  Take a breath, and then look around you.  Slowly.  Remember what you see. You haven't really seen it in a very long time.  Next, turn to your other half and look at them, and say, "Lets take a break".

Good start.  Now, choose a place for one, maybe two nights at least sixty miles away, and then count the days until you go.

We started a tradition when we first met to be sure to get away every few months, and at the very least every spring and autumn.  Minimally, it would be for two nights, but there are times when just one night will do wonders.

About three years ago we received a gift for dinner aboard the Cape Cod Central Railway.  The train runs from Hyannis to Buzzards Bay a few times each day for sightseeing, lunch, dinner, and the "elegant dinner", which we were booked for.

The Six Degrees of Separation

At the train station the night of the dinner, the conductor checked each passengers ticket and read their name aloud, and made a friendly comment about where they were from.  When he came to us, he took our ticket and read, "The Hersee party.  Any relation to Bob Hersee from Medfield?".  "He was my Dad", I replied, "He passed in March.".

The conductors greeting smile fell, and his face became quite sad.  "When the train is fully boarded, and everyone is seated, I'd like to share some stories about your Dad.  I am a retired music educator, and I knew your Dad quite well".

Of course, we were thrilled, and invited our conductor to join us.

After we were underway, Steve Bell, Train Conductor, and former high school music teacher, sat at our table and shared how he and Dad had met years ago during the All State music competitions around the commonwealth.  Unlike a lot of teachers, they had varied interests in music, and a natural friendship evolved.  They looked forward to seeing one another each year.  To hear someone speak so well of my father, and in the same tone as those that I knew quite well,  was comforting, and amazing.  Seems that Dad was respected everywhere he went, and not just in Medfield.

Mr. Bell was obviously touched by meeting us that evening.  He had a relationship with someone for a long time, and as the years went by, and Dad retired, and then Mr. Bell followed years later, they had lost touch, until that moment on the platform at the train station.  Our train conductor had turned our excellent day on Cape Cod into the perfect day.

Fate, destiny, kismet, or the more scientific theory of those Six Degrees of Separation, I really don't know.  What I would call it is something that was meant to happen, did, and for all parties it was wonderful.  It was also just two days after what would have been Dad's 78th birthday.

This all would not have occurred if we had not chose to take a little bit of time off to recharge, and to use that gift certificate on that particular weekend.  Mary took my hand across the table after Mr. Bell had left, and said, "Your Dad is here.  This was his way of telling you".

Take the time to recharge, and breathe deeply.  Empty your mind, and enjoy one another in a place far away from the days routines, even it's for just one day. There are experiences out there waiting for you, and friends you have yet to meet.

It is meant to be.

Simplicity Is Often The Key To A Great Idea

I never thought about it, and the reason may have been because the idea is so simple.

The idea to have Town Meeting on Saturdays during daylight hours is beyond simplicity.  It accomplishes so much by just changing the day, and the time.  More residents could attend that could not otherwise attend during a weekday evening due to the hour, work, childcare, or difficulty driving at night.

The town of Ashby had their Annual Town Meeting on Saturday May 7th at 9:30 in the morning.  

There is a petition in town asking for this change to happen, and it will be available to sign at Feast and Fire on Saturday August 20 between 2 to 6 PM.

Give it some thought.  Some things we do in town government are so convoluted, and complicated, then there are things like this, just a good and simple thing.

Any Good Recipe Takes A Bit Of Tweakin'

I have to admit, it's gotten better.

When I first arrived here in town, back at the beginning of the new millennium, I observed an old Yankee attitude that had been in place for generations.  Nothing wrong with an old Yankee attitude, it is one of thrift, ingenuity, pragmatism, and responsibility. All excellent traits, but unyielding, unswerving, unchanging, and being resistive are also part of being a Yankee.

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it".

This is how some cultures last for so long without much change when challenged by the rest of the world.  They don't always last as long as first planned, though, look at what happened to the Shakers.  Small towns and villages, can be very much the same.  They function day to day as they always have, only taking on new projects, or change, when so mandated by necessity, such as when a bridge is out, or a school needs building.

This is New England, and we move with much well intentioned forethought before acting, and then fix a situation very well so we will not have to move that fast again for some time.  This is where our pragmatism, and ingenuity come into play.  It is also being responsible.

During the last ten years I have witnessed some nice changes here in town.  At first it was if it was like a chowda on the boil, and a new ingredient had been put into the batch.  All hell was bubbling over!  Soon, the angry bubbling began to subside, and become just a constant boil.  Still, it was something that needed to be dealt with, and it was.  New elections, new candidates, new townsfolk serving the residents with new ideas.

It's been a helluva ride, but what has happened is a liberation, and rebuilding of our small town culture.  We have decided not to watch society roll by in tour buses, we have decided to join their world.

That in itself is a humongus step in the right direction.

We are almost like a chick breaking out of its shell, and getting our bearings, and balance fine tuned.  We're a bit wobbly.  We are still making mistakes, but admitting them more often. We are also acting on them like the Front Door Debacle at the Town Hall.

And, then there's that "chowda".  It's still bubbling, cooking with the hope, and promise of something really good.  Like any recipe, there will be additions to the pot, and if they survive the tasting spoon of the townsfolk, they'll stay, if not, they'll be voted out of the recipe.

We've already tossed out a few ingredients.

What's your take?  Are we headed in the right direction?  Have we made progress over the last few years?  What is the one ingredient you would add to the pot for the ultimate chowda?