In the Half-Light There is a favorite line at the end of Norman Maclean’s A River Runs. Through It where Robert Redford as the narrator talks of the aging of the protagonist, Norman. He references him as a fly fisherman who is too old to fish the big waters of the rivers around Missoula. Montana, but does so anyway. He does it in the half-light of the canyon. Half-light is a wondrous term that implies…
West of Winnemucca The ride down Rt. 80 from Snyderville to Salt Lake City is always fun. It’s a regular roller coaster that drops 2,000 vertical feet. During the fifteen years I owned a place in Park City, I’m guessing I made that ride over 500 times. It’s a big wide highway that makes you want to go fast, but if you know the road like I do, you know that some prudence is suggested…
Without a Clue This process of exiting Ithaca is proving to be even more drawn out than I had previously imagined. I keep saying to myself that I have written my last story about closing down my 26-year home here and moving on, but something always seems to draw me back in. I sincerely hope this is the last of these stories, but I cannot promise that for certain. I have shipped seventeen boxes of…
Back at the Slopes Today was a relatively short driving day from Jackson to Park City. Kim and I got up at our normal roadtrip time of O’Dark Thirty. I did what I always do, which is write a story while staring up at the Grand Tetons. I had been instructed about how to get my own cereal, which I did, and once 8am rolled around, Kim and I decided that it might be best…
Being at Altitude Having owned a home in Park City, Utah for over fifteen years, I made it a point to get a familiar with the impact of altitude on the human body. I actually owned five different homes in Park CIty over those years for various and sundry reasons and they all ranged from being from 6,500 to 8,500 feet in altitude. That is the price of having a western ski house on the…
Crazy Is As Crazy Does Today was spent driving from the middle of Minnesota, from the little town of Austin, which I picked randomly when planning this trip. As I was checking out of the Holiday Inn I noticed a display case in the lobby. It was filled with every manner of promotional item for Spam one could think of. It seems that Austin is the home of that favorite pink canned meat we all…
Let the Sun Shine In The day is getting off to a slow start ramping up to its anticipated mid-80s temperatures, but the sun is breaking through as the morning crests its half-way point. It’s a Saturday so the traffic patterns are not following the normal Cornell commutation cycle with cars and trucks heading down Warren Road into Forrest Home in the morning and flowing up and out of Forrest Home in the late afternoon.…
Back at the Breakfast Bar Sleep patterns are an interesting beast. They certainly set the tone for the night and they can wreck havoc with your day as well. I wish I could tell you what normal is in general or even to me, but I can’t. There is a new normal at every turn when you get to my age. My consistent gold standard is to get from six to eight hours of actual…
Mobilizing the Retreat This morning we enjoyed a life event. Charlotte and Evelyn planned and orchestrated a wedding of their two new stuffed kittens, Brownie and Coconut. I’m not sure what occasioned the event, but it was a full orchestration set up on the deck replete with bride and groom seating for friends, a stuffed croissant officiating, a red carpet of red towels, wedding music, a wedding cake and a full ceremony with ring-bearers. I…
When a Home Becomes a House Little by little I am removing personal effects from my house in Ithaca. My intention is to leave intact and fully serviceable for people who want to stay here over the next four months to wallow in the memories of Ithaca summers past. This house has Ben a magnet for all the detritus of family life for us over the past twenty-five years. Whenever we are given an odd…