The tree lined streets of middle America have been the subject of so many short stories, movies and TV shows over the years...


With so many lives...families...filling the homes...the culture is rich with engaging stories of births, deaths, marriages, weddings, politics and a multitude of other life stories played out on these shaded walkways. When I was very young...air conditioning was not as prevalent as today. I remember walking down these streets at night heading home after mom called us in...walking home...each house with their windows open in the Summer was like a novel. I heard Walter Cronkite's re assuring voice on the evening news....as I passed, the sound faded to the next house with an argument of some type only overridden by the next houses radio playing the Beach Boys. Each house like a universe all it's own...opening it's heart to any one who would listen. No longer...windows shut tight, doors barred, yards with "Protected by ADT" signs...

Those tree lined streets no longer lend themselves to the writer...that source has regretfully dried up.

No I didn't go on some world renown sailing adventure or have reverted back to some former life!

I post this picture just to make a point. Interesting photos are everywhere, you just have to always be on the lookout for them. No matter what I am doing I am always on the lookout. This was actually taken while we were waiting in the serpentine line at Disney World for the Pirates of the Caribbean ride a couple of years ago. It is all about cropping! Anyway, just an off the wall photo today...no great revelations or earth shattering insights...as if there ever are!

I am brain dead from the weekend! This is best I can do today...hope you can find some solace in the fact that you had a better weekend than I did!!!

Ok, now it is time to clear my mind and do something constructive.

I am re posting a comment left this morning from Highton-Ridley about the origin of a phrase relating to the photo...I always learn so much from you guys who visit and leave comments! Very interesting....I had no idea, but I have heard the phrase since I was a child.

"Seeing the wooden and rope monkeys reminds me of the (UK only?) saying "It's cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey".

Folks in the uk snigger at this quite common phrase 'cos it sound rude.

Back in the days of voyages of discovery, when passing into very cold regions, the brass monkeys that they used to hold the cannon balls would shrink more quickly than the iron of the balls. This would result in the collapse of the canon ball stack... hence the phrase".

Thanks Mark for the insight.

Dan

I hope this Summer has been your best Summer yet...with many more to come.

Several years ago, I stayed at the venerable Del Coronado...San Diego (Coronado Island). It was about this time of year. While walking along the beach, I noticed the one shoe left behind while the owner was surely enjoying her last Summer's fling before seasons' end.

That evening in the courtyard, all was quiet and it gave me a chance to muse about all the travelers over the years that have stayed here. The old Hotel is one of the few remaining all wood structures of this type in the world. The Del was the summer home of a very famous resident...L. Frank Baum. Does that ring a bell? He is the author of "Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz"...which was one of three books he wrote while staying here. Walking the courtyards and hallways of the Del at night, I swear I could hear the clanging footsteps of the tin man or see small clumps of straw left behind as the scarecrow walked on before me.

Many on both coasts have summer memories of days at the boardwalk playing in the sand or visiting the arcades...it is my hope that you have made some memories this Summer.

Have a great Sunday.

Dan

Idiom Definitions for 'Walk in the park'

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An undertaking that is easy is a walk in the park. The opposite is also true - "no walk in the park".

If life were as easy as a walk in the park...So many times we look at someone else and the appearance they give to the public and we think...boy they really have it together. When in reality, even they must face the same challenges we face day to day.

A great example of this is when we were raising Zach...I never said this to his face but often I would see a perfectly behaved child and think...why can't Zach be like that? It is probably a mistake that many parents make...it is all to easy to compare our children to others. As I look back on that period now...I fully realize that the parents of the "perfect" child were just like me with faults of their own. Parenting is not a science...it is truly an art and art leaves open so much interpretation. We all try to be the best parents we can...that is all we can do...because it is "no walk in the park".

Now for the real walk in the park...when I took the picture I thought of that phrase and knew I had to connect it with the photo (I often write notes about how I feel or thoughts I had when taking the pictures). This was taken back in the early Spring...that first great day outside after months of the Winter chills. It was that Spring day we have each year when we look outside and want so much for it to be Summer...we burst out of the house into the woods or nature but we find it is yet still to cold ...not yet warm enough to really enjoy Spring. This was a needed walk in the park however, a struggle yet to feel the warmth but left me with the anticipation of great warm Summer days ahead.

The Daniel Boone Home

I have included the link above in case you want to visit the site. Originally it was because of a school assignment our son had in the 6th grade but has now turned into a tradition in our family. When we lived in St. Louis it began and now that we have moved away, we still go back each year. There is a plot of land south of St. Louis that has restored the original Daniel Boone Home and many buildings of the same time period.

Open all year but between Thanksgiving and Christmas each year it is transposed into a scene full of the sights, scents and sounds of America in the days of Daniel Boone. At night the landscape is lit by thousands of candles and oil lanterns. Candles line the walkways that lead you into Boone's world. There is always the warmth of a fire to sit around and listen to the fife and drums, violin or they would say fiddle and gaze above at the open crystal clear skies of a Midwest...a Midwest where the humidity of Summer has passed...turning on a multitude of stars. The ever present smell of wood burning stoves and fireplaces fills the air along with handmade soaps and candles.

The final treat of the night is to visit the Boone Home, candle lit and warm. Outside, the temperature often in the teens...inside the thick stone walls brings a comfort and welcome respite from the approach of winter. The last part of the tour through the home takes you to the basement where the original kitchen served as the lifeblood of the pioneer family. A table is set just as it was in Daniel's day. A large kettle, steaming and filling the air with spiced cider and a plate of cinnamon cookies gives the visitor the taste of traditions......

Driving home, entering the lights and traffic of St. Louis late on a December night is always easier after our annual vist to the Boone home.

Always in the last days of Summer, I seem to look back on the seasons past and cherish those memories.

It was raining here today and I was reminded of one of the fishing trips to Lake of the Woods, Ontario. This has been an ongoing experience for me that has truly spanned generations. For me it has become not so much the fishing...although it is the best I have ever seen, it is about the connections. They began with my dad over 50 years ago...and my dad's trips before me that go back almost 70 years...now the trips with Zach.

I have family pictures of this cabin taken years ago...some with my mom (now passed away) and dad (85 years old) standing on this front porch. Today when I go...I rent this same cabin. When I return, the memories flood my mind. The island is only about 2 acres in size with 5 cabins. We are boated out and dropped off for the duration...there is electricity and running water but that is about it. The heat provided by the wood burning stove has saturated the old logs with the smell of Hickory from decades of use during the late fall hunting seasons. Existence here is truly a fairytale of a life so unlike my daily treks in Evansville... a world away.

This particular day, rain had set in and we were waiting out the storm. Even a stormy day here is wonderful. Inside...no TV or radio noise...just the sound of raindrops on the old tar roof. A chance to talk with each other...spin tales of fish that got away and summers past on this island where generations of visitors now gone still make there presence known from old photographs of proud fishermen holding up their daily catch for the world to see.

I have stayed in 5 star hotels all across the United States, played golf at luxury resorts... but this meager cabin means more to me than any concierge service or king sized bed I have ever used.

Day two...the rest of the story.

Here is how the scenario played out...I was on the Harvard campus across the street from the Harvard Book Store. A shiny black Porsche pulled up and parked in front of me. The gentleman that stepped out of the Porsche is the person above. That alone peaked my interest. As I stood there wondering who this was, a truck pulled up on the street next to the Porsche and blocked traffic while a film crew began to gather. A person with a hand held video camera began to film the gentleman while he was talking to the person in the cowboy hat.

Nothing of any significance happened as far as I could see. For some reason he was of interest to the film crew but they were just filming him as he walked around??? The blonde (I failed to mention her yesterday) seemed to be an interpreter. The gentleman would look at her before he would respond to any query...she would say something and then he would follow suit. After a bit, the cameras stopped, a discussion ensued with hand gestures, pointing here and there and raised voices now and then...the Texan grabbed the arm of the person as if to gently nudge him down the street and all four...the gentleman, the Texan and the film crew (man in olive shirt center left of group picture is wired for sound) left together and disappeared from view. The truck still blocking traffic and the Porsche left unattended and I might say I noticed ...unlocked?

To see the gentleman and the Texan together was the strangest of contrasts...normally I would not expect these two types to have anything in common but I guess that's what makes the world go round!

Maybe I am just nosy and should stay out of other peoples' business...but this was an encounter I couldn't resist.

All of your scenarios from yesterday are plausible and may well be true!

Dan

This will be a two day post in order to lay out a mystery...not an earth shattering mystery... just a bit curious.

I was lucky enough in 2007 to attend a negotiating course at Harvard business school. While there, of course I went out with my camera! I have always enjoyed just observing the interactions between people on the street. This particular interaction involved a Porsche, a film crew, a Texan and this individual. Strange bedfellows all.

After watching the scenario play out...I was still clueless as to what their connections were. It might be fun to use your imagination to think about what this gentleman might have done for a living...this is not a loaded question because I don't know either! I can speculate maybe an artist or actor?? Possibly. He had the clothes of an artist...but do artists usually drive a Porsche and wear designer sunglasses...they usually have trouble supporting themselves...thus the phrase "starving artist".

The rest of the story tomorrow!

Dan

I have posted images from Nashville, Indiana previously on my blog. The "Muddy Boots Cafe" post was also from Nashville.

Often it is hard for me to judge whether or not these type of posts are of interest or not to the readers of the blog...if you haven't been there, if you have no memories connected with an area...is it interesting...or is it only because of a period in past that I find it interesting and is of no consequence to others? That is hard for me to gauge.

In the 80's, my wife and I went through this artistic surge for some reason. It is hard to say why it surfaced...became all consuming...and faded after about 10 years but it was a great ride. We designed and created pictures made out of old woodlaths ...the old wood strips behind plaster walls. We ended up with about 70 designs and also had prints made of them.

The shop in the picture is "The Olde Bartley House" in downtown Nashville. We sold our work through here. The first time we entered the old house...we were caught up in not only the merchandise and artwork they sold but the atmosphere within. The most unique part of the experience was the music...music that drew you in and transported you to another time...another place while you were there. Each room had it's own music that faded from one room to the next. It was truly a unique place to visit. Our pictures were displayed along the wall beside a beautiful staircase going up to the 2nd floor. It was a great period of time for us...both sharing a part of the success of the pieces...I cut the pictures...she painted them...we both designed the scenes. So much has changed since then...but this is something that each of us shared with each other...like the quote from the old movie..."We'll always have Paris".

Sometimes less is better in a photo than more.

Pretty simple image...a barn and an old tree but I think that the only two focal points in this image ties them together...each struggling to outlast the other. Both have seen their better days. One created by man...one created by God. I would guess that there used to be a grove of trees like this one...the barn is probably created from the local wood.

Have a relaxing Sunday.

Dan

One more perspective from the air....

To me this image is the perfect metaphor of the paths we follow in our lives. When I saw it out the window from 30,000 feet...I was immediately struck with the thought of how different it looks from this vantage point. If I were on the ground somewhere in the mountainous region to the right of the picture and walking east to the left...I would have no idea what I was about to see or have to cope with...leaving the lush vegetation and cover of wilderness into the open unshaded desert. However from high above I had the advantage of seeing the big picture and easily realized I was looking at the deserts' edge...now able to adapt behavior or survival techniques...knowing what was ahead of me.

So many times we get caught up in the details of life dealing with the minutiae of our daily schedules and are caught blindsided by unexpected occurrences...not knowing how to cope with the changes. If we could get in the habit of stepping back now and then, re assessing and looking at the big picture...we may be able to see or plan for what may be ahead. We may be able to live our lives accordingly and easier deal with gradual change rather than a disruption...leaving us vulnerable to rash, hastily made decisions. I am "preaching" to myself here as well...I often don't look at the big picture either...unable to leave the comfortable rut and look above the trench to see what is ahead of me. I am going to take the time to do that...I need some new direction.

In New Harmony, there is an open meadow that runs along one of the side streets with an interesting inscription at one end.

This area was once part of a commons with the original Utopian Rappite settlement here. This statement was coined long before the Supreme Court ruled on expressions of this sort on public property. The statement to me adds to the aura of New Harmony and the open freedom of expression promoted in this small out of the way community such as the creative writing workshops and discussion groups held here throughout the summer.

No doubt over the years, there have been discussions in the "Poets' House"centering around a statement such as this both pro and con. But thankfully a discussion like this can still be held. There are many countries where this type of subject would be taboo. Let's hope that freedom still exists for visitors to New Harmony in 2016 or 2030. "Long live" freedom of expression so all sides can be heard and out the discussion path's to the future are laid.

I guess I am a sucker for mountains...whether the lush greens of the Smokies, the majestic jagged peaks of the Rockies or the vibrant Red Rocks of Sedona, Arizona.

Today a post from Shabbygirls' turf! To the readers of the blog from the Western States, I am quite certain that this photo is not that big of a deal but for a Midwesterner...the first sight of a flat topped plateau rising out of the desert heat surrounded by the iron reds of the Western high desert is breathtaking at the very least.

In a past life, I used to fly out to the West Coast quite a bit and always when we crossed the Arizona landscape I was mesmerized. Once on a business trip to Phoenix, I set a side a day and drove up to Sedona...about an hour and a half north of Phoenix. The trip up to Sedona was as awe inspiring as Sedona itself. The Saguaro Cactus and Prickly Pear landscape was so totally foreign to me. I had only seen these in John Wayne Westerns and I found myself face to face with a ten foot classic Western Icon...the Saguaro...the state flower of Arizona.

Nearing Sedona, I began to see the red plateaus now and then. As I got closer and closer to the town...the landscape changed from the browns and tans of the high desert to Fire reds and iron rust colored hills and plateaus too beautiful to describe...at least with this writers vocabulary.

I took one of the afternoon jeep excursions out into the midst of these rust colored monuments. Luckily...the jeep broke down and we were stranded until another could be sent to get us back to civilization. While everyone was complaining...I found myself wandering off on my own to an area where I was surrounded by beauty. I stood and watched as the sunset...gradually turning rust to red...then to deep intense almost magenta as the sun disappeared over the plateaus. Once the sun set, I was treated to a sky unhindered by the Midwest humidity...so clear, so black with billions of stars only interrupted by sporadic flashes of heat lightening that cast long shadows for an instant all around me. If I were an artist...I still would not have been able to capture this moment on canvass...a moment that I still see today in my minds eye.....so thankful that our jeep broke down.

Shabbygirl...you live in a beautiful part of this country.

By the way...if you look to the upper right of image...you can see Sedona nestled among the canyons and plateaus.

I recently posted this image on "Soaring Through the World in Pictures" and it generated a discussion about the doors so I thought I would re post post on my blog.


This is one of those posts where I learned something in the process. I mentioned that I wondered if there is any significance to the red doors. My guess was that it is because it was a Methodist Church...all of the Methodist Churches in this area have red doors. There were so many great comments about why they may be red...ranging from representing the Blood of Christ to His Passion to even the fact that the mortgage of the church had been paid in full! I am going to steal a link that Dawn Treader thoughtfully posted about this issue: http://ameganfindsartinphilly.wordpress.com/2008/03/26/why-many-church-doors-are-red/
Thanks Dawn Treader, I found it very interesting.

For some reason this was a difficult photo for me. I have taken several pictures of this church over the years and have never gotten one I was satisfied with until this one. I always had difficulty getting the exposure correct. The contrast of the white walls with the dark foliage seemed to throw off the camera....either the walls were washed out or the trees too dark.. I experimented with HDR and it gave me the correct exposure...so I can finally put this image to rest!

The Wabash River runs slow this time of year. It forms the lower third border of Southwestern Indiana...dividing Indiana and Illinois.


This type of slow running current is ideal for canoeing and it is very popular in this area. I have taken canoes on the Wabash before...the lightness and agility of a canoe makes for a perfect day of riding the slow moving current and observing unpopulated farm and bottom lands and still pristine hardwood forests. With the small footprint of a canoe in the water, you can drift almost silent and listen to the birds on land and the occasional splash of fish as you pass by.

There is nothing like the adrenaline rush of whitewater rafting but just as satisfying is the piece of mind and relaxation of the early evening quiet in a canoe. Where you are left with your thoughts and appreciation of nature. Ever so often, the sweet smell of fresh cut clover hay fills your senses as you pass by the newly cut fields. The river banks also provides new found friends that wave as you pass them by...there is something about a slow moving river that connects people or at least slows them down enough to connect. If I passed the same person in an intersection...would we wave?

I was told once by a physician to think of floating down quiet river on a late Summer evening and to visualize all the sights and sounds you experience on the way...this will gently lull you to sleep. Try it sometime if you if you can't sleep...if not sleep, you will fade into the night relaxed and refreshed for the hectic day ahead.

This is another home set aside for the RopeWalk Retreat. The link will take you to the New Harmony writers' site.

The last picture taken on this day...almost passed by. With the fading light of late evening, I had my doubts whether there was enough light for a decent picture. In reality, the dramatic lighting added to the pastoral atmosphere of New Harmony. With the house already in evenings' shadow, the dying sun casts its' remaining light on the flowers and trees surrounding the retreat almost like a fence maintained by nature...protecting the inhabitants from distractions while they consult with their muse. I couldn't get any closer without invading the garden so natures "fence" worked it's magic with me!

Good afternoon folks...just a heads up. I will be posting a new photo in the morning or later this evening but won't be able to respond to your comments until the next day most likely. I am taking my dad to surgery in the morning and will probably be tied up all day. Feel free to leave your comments and I will get back to you. Thanks for stopping by.

Thanks,

Dan

Yesterday, I mentioned that New Harmony was a haven for artist who put pen to paper. The house above is one of several that are set aside for just this purpose. To give the artist a haven that cuts through the noise of everyday living...that lets the creative spirits flow unhindered by daily deadlines and other responsibilities. The video is of the tree I posted a couple of days ago...If you look at the window just to the right of the door in the Poets' House...the view you would see is this park with the children playing on the swing.

As bloggers, I think we all like to put electronic pen to paper...sometimes expressing our innermost feelings, sometimes to make a point about something that we believe in and sometimes to let our creative juices flow. How great it would be to have a week set aside to spend in the Poets House, look out onto the pastoral park setting and write to our hearts content. Not many of us will ever have that opportunity, but it is nice to think of the what ifs now and then.

Whenever I have the choice...I always try to take a photo either with an interesting sky or when the sun is low on the horizon...sunrise or sunset.

The golden light and long shadows seem to add more depth and interest to the image. This particular barn , I think , was made of cedar. The aging of the wood was interesting. The discoloration of age was there but the cedar protected it from the normal deterioration. One of the reasons for making "cedar chests" out of cedar was that the cedar wood repelled insects. It has also worked it's magic with the barn.

Taken in New Harmony, Indiana...a small historic community with a unique history. Originally it was founded by the "Rappites" in the early 1800's. One of the Utopian, communal communities that sprung up here and there during this period. Many of their buildings and ways of life have been preserved in this small town. It is also a haven for writers and poets due to its' quiet and solitude. The atmosphere of New Harmony lends itself to this type of creativity. There have been several novels, screenplays and poems published and used by Hollywood that had their humble begginings here in New Harmony.

A rare sight ...children playing outside on a swing!

It was encouraging to see the children outside...away from the video games. This was taken just a couple of days ago and the laughter breaking the silence of the park was refreshing. It may have been the lure of a perfect tree and perfect swing that drew the children. It was also the last week of Summer vacation, knowing that this time next week...they would be back in school.

Whatever the reason, the interaction of the boy and girl reminded me of my childhood and those days when...not even knowing why but...I began to notice that there was indeed another species of the human race called a "girl"...and she wasn't that bad to hang with!

The huge sprawling tree, the affection shown...reminded me of a very touching scene...I think it may have been the first episode of one of my most favorite TV shows...The Wonder Years. The episode played out and we found that Winnie's brother had just died in Vietnam. The show ended with the two of them, very young and innocent sitting next to each other under a huge tree that seemed to take them under it's wing. In a clumsy effort to comfort Winnie, Kevin leaned and kissed Winnie on the cheek. The scene faded to black with the song "When a man loves a woman" by Percy Sledge...contrasting the young lovers with what the future held for them. For me, that image still resonates and is the epitome of young innocent love struggling to cope with the onset of the complicated, unsure complexities of adolescence. Those memories are often...so bittersweet.

Wing Walkers are a breed that I will never understand. I can't imagine in my wildest dreams having the courage to step out on the wing of a plane in flight.

There have actually been wing walkers that have moved from one plane to the next in mid air. For just a moment, clear your mind and step into this person's boots. You are battling 100 mile an hour winds. A Kevlar strap is holding you onto ringlets in the wing. The plane climbs to vertical, begins to stall and in one motion you are upside down hanging from the wing with blood rushing to your head and everything that is natural on this earth is trying to pull you to the ground into oblivion.

What must it be like that first time...not knowing what to expect? Do you just want it to be over with...to be back on solid ground? I love to fly, but to stand on the edge of a building looking over the rail to the ground almost makes me pass out....this has to be the same feeling.

I have been up to the top of the John Hancock, Sears Tower and World Trade Center...just long enough to say that I have done it...I was back on the ground floors as quickly as the elevator would get me there. Before I die, I want to whitewater ride the grand canyon, hitch across Europe again, drive one lap at the Indy 500...but never...never walk on the wing of an airplane.

For some it is clowns, for me it was mannequins.


As a young child, my imagination would always run away with visions of mannequins coming to life after the doors were locked, the lights turned off, the shoppers on their way home after a busy day in the city. I think it was because of the stories that were played out for me as I looked on...sometimes I would stare at the the mannequin to catch any movement that would bolster my theory. Take this theory and put your self in my shoes the day that I saw my first "live" window display. Unknowingly at that early age, the mannequins on that particular day were real peolple striking a pose. You can imagine my thoughts, the butterflies in my stomach when I caught an eye blink or a jugular vein pulse with a beating heart.

Running back to the safety of mom's outstretched hand...never telling anyone about what I had seen...knowing that my theory of the mannequins was true...they did come to life after I went home!

Coming up in November, I will have been blogging for a year. This means that you and I will have walked through 4 seasons together.

As I was cutting the grass last weekend I noticed, even though it is mid August that a tree is beginning to loose it's leaves. It is by no means due to Autumns arrival but the lack of rain so typical here in August. This particular tree always looses it's leaves this time of year. However, looking out our back yard and the sight of leaves swirling in gusts of wind brought to mind the never ending cycle of seasonal change.

I have come to realize that I love each season...the palette of colors in the Fall, the first snow of Winter, the dogwoods in Spring and Summers' July 4th. But truly it is the change of seasons that I love. The transition from one to the next always brings around the memories of seasons past...the loved ones lost, new friends just met, the first day of school, the June wedding, the harvest festivals with their smells of firewood and apple butter.

I so appreciate the past but I also like transitions...moving from one stage to the next and the change of seasons always brings me back to this realization.

While summer has been great...I anticipate the transition to Autumn and the crisp air, the first sight of my breath as I step outside and the chance to reflect on Summer's memories.

It's not that far off.

Welcome to Possum Junction, Indiana.

Somewhere between Evansville and Louisville on Gethsemane Church Road, there is the remains of Possum Junction. At a crossroad, a few abandoned buildings and rusted cars are all that remains. The last building to show any signs of life was the General Store...even it is closed now. A teenagers growing up in Possum Junction must have come here to meet their friends before they left more exciting venues. At the Possum Junction General Store...one could order a pizza or wings while picking up some night crawlers for the fishing hole and gassing up the truck...now that is full service!

As I was taking the picture, I heard a voice over my shoulder..."that ud be a good beness for somebody to buy"....I turned to a man on a backhoe..."there's been 5 or 6 people stop there just since I've been here". I nodded, got back in the Subaru and drove off...leaving Possum Junction just as I had found it. As I looked in my rear view mirror...someone pulled into the Possum General Store parking lot. I thought to myself...what a great episode for the Twilight Zone.

I had mentioned on my earlier post that the Brothers at the St. Meinrad Arch abbey...lived and died on the grounds.

There is a graveyard by a peaceful lake where the Brothers are buried. True to their vow of poverty, their graves are all identical...no pride or one upsmanship even to the grave. The only differentiating factor is on the other side of the gravestones... their name, birth and death dates.

From the picture of the Cathedral and the grave sites however, one would imagine a Brother to be a bit strange, perhaps even dark at times. I met and talked with a couple of Brothers while visiting and they are quite the contrary. Very friendly, outgoing and very open to striking up a conversation. Even "Hip" in some ways. It is just the life they have chosen that makes them seem different...so different from the mainstream.

This was a very interesting stop during my foray off the interstate.

No narrative today....just the cars...they speak for themselves!

Dan

Good morning folks! It is Sunday morning and I got in late last night from the Street Rod Show in Louisville. I am in the process of reading and responding to all or your great comments while I was gone.

I am catching up on things today after being gone for a few days. The car show was overwhelming and I was lucky enough to have a great response to my photographs. I sold many more than I was expecting. I would take pictures of the cars, return to the hotel and print them out for them the next day. I had more requests than one person could print so I am shipping several now that I have returned home.

I will drop a car photo now and then just to give you an idea of the types of autos that were there. Don't worry though...I won't turn the blog into a Car Show! The official count of cars in the show was somewhere north of 12,000! There were about 80,000 people a day through the gates...quite an event!

Dan

Today we need a bowl...we drive to Walmart and without thinking...try to decide whether we want plastic, china, stainless steel, wood, paper or glass.

Our forefathers spent days making their bowls out of the only resources they had...gourds or trees. It was often a chore shared by the entire family...cutting the tree, cleaning the log, hollowing out the shape and drying before it could be used. So many of the everyday needs of a family were made from the land they cherished. We see these artifacts in a museum and seldom pause to think about the human effort that went into creating them.

The next time you visit a museum...try to put yourself in the place of the pioneer family members as they set up their housekeeping in the new world. It will allow us to be much more appreciative of what we enjoy today as we go about our busy days.

Dan

It is 140 miles from Evansville to Louisville on interstate 64. I have made this trip probably 100's of times (I used to live in Louisville). Always before...I would jump on the interstate and head for a destination. This time...I stayed off the interstate and found a whole new world. I traveled on roads named Gethsemane Church road, I passed through forgotten towns named Possum Junction, I followed the signs to the St. Meinrad Archabbey.

Built in the 1800's, the Benedictine Monks have found solitude, solace and peace here for over 150 years. The grounds are pristine...the brothers feel that their hard work is a form of worship just as their daily prayers and seeking of God. Once joined into the brotherhood, they live the rest of their life in contemplation and service as well as die on these grounds and buried here as well. This could be in Europe or high on a mountainside in the far east but this Monastery has found it's home in the hills of Southern Indiana...off the interstate...to be found by us who live life a bit slower and explore off the concrete ribbon of interstate 64.

When you have the time...don't forget that life exists just off the interstates...a new world waiting for us to explore.

I posted a picture of the Historian earlier this year. A close friend of Mr. Gregory just purchased the photo and I asked her how he is doing...He is now 100 years old and doing fine. As a matter of fact she mentioned that last weekend, she was at an historical meeting with Mr. Gregory at he site of the burial place for Daniel Boone. I am not sure how far he lives from this site...perhaps more than a mile and less than 5...but afterward...he walked home!

The recent conversation with her, spurred my memory of him again so I wanted to post a couple of pictures and tell you a bit about him. I have a newspaper article about him and I will quote:
"Ralph Gregory is truly a Renaissance Man....Ralph is a historian, author, museum curator, book lover, book collector, philosopher, World War II prisoner of War, newspaper columnist, radio operator, natural farmer,free thinker and by far the most intellectually gifted person I have ever had the privilege to interview".

As for myself...If I could accomplish just one of the many things that a man like this has done in his life...I would consider my life a a success while on this earth. I have always gravitated towards the elderly because I respect the wisdom gathered over so many years. A perspective of so many decades of experience, so many lessons learned from mistakes, a grasp of our history...lived in real time...

I wish Mr. Gregory the best...even longer life and I hope he knows how respected he is among his contemporaries.

One thing you can always count on at a county fair...over the top machinery!


I just wanted to give you all a heads up. I will be on the road this week from Wednesday to Saturday. I am headed over to a National Street Rod exhibit in Louisville. There will be 15,000 old or custom cars on display! I will be in hog heaven! Hopefully I will sell some photos as well. Wish me luck!

Depending upon internet availability...I may not get to your comments right away or there may be a day or two without a new post. For sure I will eventually respond to all of your comments...that is the most fun of this blogging gig! So if you see a day or two without a new post...hang with me...I WILL be back! If possible, I will blog from the show and give you a "first hand" report!

Dan