Meet Stella, the cat formally known as Taylor.

My last blog entry was dedicated to the memory of my beautiful Lucy Lu. There were many things I thought of afterward that I forgot to mention, like her gorgeous green eyes and how she loved to watch bird videos and TV. Among her favorite movies were Ice Age, Happy Feet, Toy Story and Life of Pi. She loved the Animal Planet as well as any TV commercial that included a cat. 

As I tried to convince myself that I didn’t think I could ever have a cat that I could train to be an RV warrior, I kept finding myself on animal shelter and rescue sites every night. I would tear up, looking at the sad faces of the older cats and then smile at the kittens who I knew would be adopted in a heartbeat. So, each night as I shut down my iPad, I said, “No. Nope. No way. No how. No cat.” 

For weeks, I watched You Tube videos about cats. All kinds of videos about funny cats, cat tricks, cat training, abandoned cats, shelter cats and old cats waiting to die in a cage because they are the most difficult to re-home. I knew I’d never get a kitten, because I wouldn’t want to worry about it outliving us. Lucy lived to 18, so I figured that an older cat would be perfect – already litterbox trained and in need of a warm lap, but I was not going to get a cat. 

Unwittingly (?), my next few weeks were filled with searching the NY area for cats and didn’t see any that tugged at my heart, so I began to search the FL shelters and came across a website called PetFinder. Well, if you are ever looking for a pet and could not find one on that site, I’d be shocked. 

During the holidays, PetSmart hosts a "Photo Op With Santa" fundraiser where any pet can be photographed sitting on Santa's lap. Some of the adoptable animals are photographed as well to help in their adoption process and Taylor was one of them. Fate was about to twist for Taylor once her photo was uploaded to the PetFinder site around Christmas 2019.

I had my search narrowed down to include only short-haired, adult or senior females. Not many popped up, but as I clicked on one after the other, I came across the photo of Taylor sitting on Santa’s lap. I continued looking through the short search, yet I returned several times to the photo of the cat with Santa and as I looked into her eyes, I could just imagine, if she were human, her wish. 

I inquired about Taylor and came to learn that she never had a “furever” home. She was a Manx/Tabby stray someone either trapped or turned into the Humane Society in Gadsden, Alabama in 2011 when she was about two-years old. She hadn’t been altered so the chances that she had already had a litter or two by that time are quite probable. Manx cats originated on the Isle of Mann, which is located off the coast of Scotland. The species genetically altered over hundreds of years to have no tail, or just a stub. They are shaped more like a rabbit when crouched and they tend to hop more than run. I can attest to the fact that Manx jump VERY high and run VERY fast. 

Her two other photos on Pet Finder above and below.

I’m not sure how she made it to a non-profit called, Aristocats, in Orange City, Florida, but she had been in a no-kill shelter and caged for about five years. Lucky for Taylor, in April of 2019, she found her way to the foster home of a nice woman named Jennifer. At her home, she was free to roam, but she chose to keep to herself. She didn’t care to pal around with the other cats or dogs, but if kittens arrived, she would take on a motherly role and hang out with them until, one by one, they became adopted or transferred to other foster homes. 

I give kudos to people like Jennifer who dedicate a tremendous amount of time, effort, and love to cats without homes. In addition to the everyday feeding and care of her fosters, she would bring a group of animals to PetSmart on Adoption Days and have the cages stacked. Of course, kittens went faster than older cats, so Taylor traveled back home with Jennifer each time. Jennifer told me that she had come to accept the fact that Taylor would never be adopted, and she had no problem with keeping her forever, but she would be just as happy if she could find her furever home.  

A few calls and several texts were exchanged between Jennifer and me, and plans were quickly put into place to meet. I placed a curb-side pick-up for essential items from the PetSmart where we were to make the exchange. We were all ready for a cat! Litter pan, scoop, litter, travel bag, bed, scratch boxes and a blanket filled the trunk. Jennifer snapped a photo of Taylor after loading her into the front seat of her truck. Taylor’s life was about to change - and so was ours. 

Last time in a cage! 

Jennifer said her goodbye to Taylor and I'm sure the moment was bittersweet. They had bonded, but Jennifer knew the best thing for Taylor was to go with us. 

Taylor did not like being in the carry bag at all during the ride back to the RV and once there, she was frightened of the new environment. She kept searching for a place to hide and, although the new place was strange, it did contain several great hiding spots. 

I knew from the start that the name Taylor would not survive the relationship. I had a couple of names picked out – Gracie and Rosie, but those were names I had considered for Lucy. Taylor deserved a name meant just for her. I texted a photo of her to several people, including my brother, Steve, and he asked me what I named her? I said I hadn’t decided, and he suggested, Stella. Right then and there, I knew she was a “Stella.” She is really a “Stella Bella,” which is Italian for “Beautiful Star.” 

In August, Stella made her first RV trip from Clermont, FL to Tampa, FL; which is about a two-hour ride. She didn’t like it at all. After a month, she took her next journey to New York that was close to 2,000 miles. By the last day of the four-plus-day trip, she had the routine down pat. We will be taking a three-hour trip soon to New Jersey and I hope she remembers these routines. 

Check out the photos below to see how we are all adjusting. Trust and love have sprouted and continue to grow stronger every day. Future entries about Stella adapting to life on the road will follow. 

I know cats don't have human thoughts and feelings, but I did come to realize what that cat sitting on Santa’s lap had wished for all her life – it was to be named Stella. 

Straight out of the bag into the RV for the first time.

Her favorite spot right from the start.

First day out on a leash. We like this treat.

I could have named her "Nosy Nellie!"

Not much goes on without her checking it out.

Allowing Dad to touch her! Major step. See, she's tailless.

The bond has solidified, and I think she has a preferred lap.

Just being bella. 

Ahhh. My favorite photo. Pure contentment.

Deep thought for the day: To be content doesn't mean you don't desire more, it means you're thankful for what you have and patient for what's to come." ~ Tony Gaskins

Lucy...the life, the laughs, the legend.

There were several occasions when I attempted to compose a blog entry to celebrate the life of Lucy, our 18-year-old and six-year traveling companion. Each time I sat at the keyboard my chest would tighten, my eyes would well with tears, and I’d shut down the program to try again another day.

Well, another day has arrived and instead of writing a sad, tear-jerking account of our 17 years together, I decided to just share some funny stories and photos of the cat who was lucky enough to be literally dumped on me when I was not looking for a pet. 

It began in May of 2003 when I agreed to babysit a young cat who was being abused. It was supposed to be for just six weeks, but events I won't bother to expand upon extended her stay to 17 years. 

She was almost one-year old when she arrived. I had never had a cat as a pet before, so what was to follow was going to be a new adventure for us both.  For the first two weeks, she would not allow me to "see" her. She hid under the stove whenever I was home and ventured out only when I went to work or slept. I knew she was alive from the evidence of food eaten and the presents she left me in the litter pan. It was going to take some planning and engineering for me to catch her out in the open and then block her entrance under the stove. I didn't want her hiding under there because I was unable to use the oven or broiler with her beneath the burner (old stove folks) I needed to outsmart her at her own game. 

My plan involved obtaining a large section of cardboard that I cut and folded into a tall, L-shape and had it at the ready to shove into place once I caught her unaware. The day finally came when I arrived home early and there she was – in the hallway! She would have needed to run past me to get under the stove, but I was able to quickly get that cardboard in place and block her hiding spot. 

Her eyes were as big as saucers, scared of me and this new place we both did not yet know was to be OUR home. She ran and hid under the chair, then under the bed, behind the radiator and finally under my dresser. I just let her be to adjust to this large and scary studio apartment.

I continued to feed her, scoop poop and talk to her as if she were an invisible baby. I made no outward attempts at being friends. She avoided me and I avoided her - afraid she might bite me. I figured this was only going to be for six weeks anyway; I could manage that! 

It took another couple of weeks for her to overcome some of her fear when she jumped up on my bed late one night and slowly crawled up onto my chest. She was just an inch from my face, my breath (when I was not holding it) was directly in her face. I remember prayers floating through my head, “Please God, don’t let her bite my face. Please God, don’t let her bite my face.” I must have repeated it a dozen times until I felt a little rumble on my chest as the sweet sound of a purr began to emit from this elusive cat. I eventually relaxed and believed my face was safe from getting bitten. I did not dare touch her. I was just grateful my prayer was answered.

The next evening, the same procedure occurred. This time, I slowly brought my hand up and stroked her fur and the purr got louder. I scratched under her chin and I thought there was a motorboat on my chest instead of a little cat.

Her original name was "Monroe" after Marilyn Monroe due to a black mark near her nose. I decided she was NOT a “Monroe,” so by the seventh week into my six-week babysitting stint, I booked an appointment with a vet and found out she was just a year old, an "American Short Hair/Tuxedo,"and was NOT altered. 

Once home and watching her recover from her surgery and paying a hefty vet bill, I declared myself entitled to change her name, I came up with a couple: Lucy, Gracie and Rosie. I ended up choosing Rosie. Funny thing though, was that every day when I came home from work, I would mimic Ricky Ricardo. from "I Love Lucy," and exclaim, “Lucy, I’m home!” My continuing to call out that greeting, caused her name to officially become Lucy.

Some of the little nicknames I had for Lucy, depending upon the situation were: Mommy's baby, Mommy's Girl, Lucifer, Missy Miss, Miss Priss and Mommy's sweatheart. 

The saying, “You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone,” was only partially true, because I knew I had an amazingly smart and incredible cat. She was not destructive, she never bit anyone in her entire lifetime, she was every vet’s dream, and she never tried to escape the motor homes. She never flinched, fought or scratched while having any procedure performed. Basically, she was a scare-dy-cat, full of love, mostly just for her mommy and daddy. She received so much from us that she didn’t need it from others. She tolerated few people, among them, Meema Too and Uncle Charlie.

I knew that once she was gone, I would never have a cat that could come close to filling the emotional bond we had, or be as great an RV traveler as she, yet I knew I would, eventually, long for another companion to fill that furry hole in my heart.

Throughout our full-time cross-country travels, we indicate the states we visit on a US map on our door.  I was planning to put another one up to indicate all the states where Lucy had visited a veterinarian. They are listed throughout my blog, but off the top of my head, she visited one as far west as Coastal Oregon, as far east as Mystic, CT, as far north as Glenns Falls, NY and as far south as the Orlando area in Fl. I kept perfect health records that each vet appreciated having for reference. Lucy visited 32 states, saw three of the Great Lakes, the Pacific, Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico and even stayed on Disney World Property. 

Her traveling routine consisted of crawling into her open carry bag and staying there most of the trip. She came out to sit by us or eat, drink and even use the litter pan. She mastered how to do all those things at speeds up to 70 MPH. Watching her walk from the front to the back of the RV while on a major thoroughfare was comedic as she braced herself to match the sway of the RV. She would have made a terrific airline stewardess. At the end of each day on the road, we were all “home” and happily sharing "lap" time.

I had over 1,800 photos of Lucy, so in order not to bore you, I tried to narrow it down to some of my favorites that depicted her serenity, beauty and funny personality.

Top right is Lucy "tapping her paw" for dinner.

Some pretty poses. There's one with her helping me write a blog entry.

Time in baskets and bags. Top left was when she went to see a doctor. She was scared. 

You can see the difference in her eyes from all the other photos.

Time out with dad. Most times, Lucy loved to go out on the leash.

Lucy loved the Christmas tree, but loved knocking it over even more.

Family Photo. See her photo bomb in the background?

Loving shower time. One of her favorite past times. 

I accidentally shut the door behind her once.

Lucy's favorite appetizer - shrimp cocktail.

Just being beautiful.

Lucy loved "clean sheet"day.

Four of the homes we've lived in. Missing Verplanck and Peekskill.

Lucy went deaf in her last couple of years, yet she was intelligent enough to learn the sign language I had researched and taught her. I was excited with each sign she mastered, but the best was the “I love you” sign, because I really needed to communicate that every day.

Our last journey was a short one. Just about 7 miles, but as sad as it was to say goodbye to our sweet Lucy, I am happy she left us with so many funny and loving moments to cherish. A simple twist of fate back in 2003 made life for the three of us far better than it could ever have been imagined. Some moments of sadness remain, but no regrets. 

R.I.P. my sweet, one and only, legendary, Lucy Lu

Lucy Lu - June 2002-May 2020

Deep thought for the day:  Our pets: They give us the happiest hellos and the saddest goodbyes. But all the paw prints they leave on our hearts remain forever. ~ vc

LIFE: racing past and then suddenly in slow motion

I've caught up with our comings and goings up until New Year's Day. I never took the time to make any resolutions or set goals for myself as I usually do every year. I think the fact that I was alive and well were enough.

Things began to slowly improve in January and then mid-February found George with a nasty head cold. Since being in Florida, we've missed celebrating Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, New Year's Eve and then Valentin'es Day flew out the window.

February found members of our New York RV group staying at Elite Resorts and good friend, Charlie, at Thousand Trails down the road. We didn't get to do too many things together due to my foot and George's illness, but the few times we did, food was usually involved and we always had fun.

Dinner out with some of the Hudson Islanders, sans George.
Starting on the left side and up like a “u” we are:
Walt and Fran, me and Charlie, Tony and Doreen and Kathy and Ray.

I was continuing the slow recuperation from my bunion surgery and looking forward to each accomplishment along the way. I went into a boot with crutches, then bearing weight on the boot and crutches, then to a cane, and finally into an orthopedic sneaker and crutch.

I rushed myself along the road to recovery (what's new) and put the cane in a corner way too soon. I have taken it back out and use it anytime I need to walk more than a few dozen feet. The foot is still swollen and painful. My surgeon says June should be the month that will show less swelling and more progress. Keeping it elevated and wearing a compression sock helps quite a bit. As we creep closer to June, we shall see how I progress.

A deadly wolf in sheep's clothing.

The middle of March found the world faced with an unimaginable health crisis. COVID-19. This acronym was soon to become a household word, and life, as we knew it, was a thing of the past. Even when the diabolical virus' threat is reduced, I don't believe we will ever live our lives the same. We will all be changed in ways yet to be determined. Some changes will be for the better and some will be for the worse, but I choose to face this enemy steeled with faith and hope.

Finally, a holiday meal where
I wasn't in the hospital!

A perfect break in he global crisis found us quietly celebrating Easter with a home-cooked dinner. Here we had many friends around, food to eat, but we all ate separately.  

My next blog will begin my documentation of what we are doing, how we are doing things differently and why I make it a conscience choice every day to find joy in little things.


Deep thought for the day:  Be sure to stop and look when you smell the roses. Don't run by too fast. Experiencing them using both senses envelops you with their true magnificence. Life is kinda that way too.

A December to Remember

The month of December arrived as I continued to recuperate from my sinus infection. The previously scheduled surgery on my foot was postponed until I finished taking the full course of antibiotics. The new date for surgery was the 10th. I convinced myself that I was well enough to proceed with the surgery (I really wasn't) while George told me to reschedule it again.

I had a method to that madness of proceeding with the surgery, because one year ago I had booked a week in Key West at Blue Water Key Resort and I needed a 15-week recuperation window. The week delay was now cutting into my timeline.

The surgery went well. I left the hospital the same day with a plate, two brackets and six screws in my foot, as well a a pin in my second toe that had needed to be broken and reset. I was placed on the same, strong antibiotic that I had taken for the sinus infection, and was given a powerful drug for pain. Now, all I had to do was sit back and let my bones mend. It was one of my more painful surgeries.

Good friends had lent me a wheelchair, but entering the RV was a tremendous challenge. One that caused me to almost re-break the broken toe! Neighbors far and wide heard my scream. Weeks later, a woman came up to me while I was sitting outside and she said, "Oh, you're the poor woman who screamed." I guess stuff like that gets around fast in a small community.

Life was spent in the RV being cared for - expertly - by George. There was very little I could do without his assistance, and he was always patient and caring. I counted my blessings (along with the days we would be swimming in Key West). 

About ten days later, I visited my surgeon who sent me to the ER with a note, indicating I was exhibiting signs of a DVT - deep vein thrombosis, including chest pain and difficulty breathing. The night before, I actually considered calling for an ambulance due to how badly I felt.

My original diagnosis in the ER was a lot of fluid in and around my lungs. I heard doctors saying, "congestive heart failure," "possible heart attack" and "thrombosis." I remember not feeling panic at this point, just a feeling that I wanted to go to sleep and wake up from a bad dream. I was weak, tired and in pain. 

On Christmas Eve, after about a week at Celebration Hospital, I was discharge after having a total cardiac work up. Gratefully, all my tests came back negative. The only explanation for all that fluid was that it probably developed from the original congestion of the sinus infection and made worse by the anesthesia from the surgery. 

Okay, this issue is behind us now and it's time to go home...but, getting released posed a huge problem. Part of my cardiac workup included an angiogram that was performed through my wrist. This prevented me from being able to hoist myself up the stairs into the RV.

Prior to being discharged, my mind raced with options and fortunately, I remembered that our friends owned a house nearby and had a spare room. After a quick call, we found out there was "room at the inn" on Christmas Eve for all of us, including Lucy. As it turned out, we had their whole home to ourselves since they were out of town. To make things even easier, we had a key to their home. 

Throughout the entire medical issue, I hadn't cried once, however, as George wheeled me into their home, tears of gratitude slid down my cheeks. I was overwhelmed by the situation and the bag full of new medications we had just picked up from the pharmacy, but also feeling so blessed to have friends who moved a huge obstacle out of our way.

Someone thought this was a
special chair just for her.

Christmas Day was going to be a relaxing and quiet day.

It wasn't.

I'll skip the unpleasant details, but I ended up heading back to Celebration Hospital by ambulance. This visit was a six day stint consisting of a battery of tests for gastric issues. The cause of this new problem was due to all the antibiotics and additional pain medications that I had been ingesting since the end of November.  It wreaked a bit of havoc on my insides.

We ended 2019 with hope and prayers that 2020 was going to be a terrific year. After all we had been through, how could it get any worse?

Meanwhile, as we were hoping and praying, Wuhan, China was to become a place that would go down in history as the epicenter of "COVID-19." Not until March 11th was it officially labeled "a pandemic" and people started to pay attention. Unfortunately, it would take thousands of deaths before most people started to take  it seriously.

My next blog entry will document, at least for my future reference, what it is like living in 2020 with a compromised immune system during a pandemic.

Deep thought for the day: "Good morning, good morning! It's time to celebrate! Good morning, good morning to you!"

This song's music was composed by Nacio Herb Brown and lyrics written by Arthur Freed, for the 1939 film, Babes in Arms. It was performed by Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney.

This is the song I sang to my boys as they grew up and now, I sing it to my husband. All three hate/hated it, or perhaps just my rendition. I'm not sure which, but I do know that I loved and still love singing it, because it's always a "good morning" when we wake up, have a place to live, clothes to wear, food to eat and love to give and receive... So, good morning, good morning to you! ~ vc

Ketchup post. Lots of catch up.

I decided, after the long absence from our New England Adventure, that I needed to document how life has unfolded since then. After a brief check of the photos on my phone, it seems like I neglected to keep the chronicle of my life up to date, which is the only way I can guarantee I don't forget the special "days of our lives."

Savannah with 2 sets of grandparents!

 In mid-September we headed south and made a stop in North Carolina to celebrate Savannah's 11th birthday. We had a great time visiting and got to have a spectacular birthday dinner together. This lucky girl got to spend it, not only with her immediate family, but with both of her grandparents!

Even a rainbow to celebrate a special girl!
Good grief, Charlie Brown, she will be taller
than me before next birthday!

Dessert caused a bit of havoc on my insulin reserves, but it was well worth the sacrifice. I was unable to upload a video of her breaking the pinata, but believe me, it was a sight not worth missing. 

We don't often get to spend birthdays, watch plays or musical or dance performances with them, so anytime we visit is special and was worth the risk of extra insulin and running "high."

My fire cracker getting ready to break
her chocolate pinata!

We only arrived in Florida a couple of weeks before getting on the road again to spend Thanksgiving in St. Pete's Beach, FL. There, we would spend the holiday with three of my grandchildren and their mom, Meily, who would be flying into the area from snowy Colorado to spend the holiday with my ex's family. As usual, we were invited and welcomed with open arms to stay and celebrate the holiday together. As Meily worked in the Tampa office of the company she works for, I was able to take the girls to the pool or beach and spent some quality time as we enjoyed perfect weather. We went out for dinners as a group, got sand in our suits as a group and shared germs as a group!

Love this one with sisters holding hands.

Lola looking happy and beautiful.

Nina enjoying watching the boys stare at her.

Me with three of my five precious girls
on Cousins Aaron's and Karen's boat.

Confident and a cutie, Emma with Uncle Gregg.

A sunset from the balcony of the condo at St. Pete Beach, FL

Boston Market Turkey Dinner

The night before Thanksgiving found me with the start of a sinus infection that required a trip to an urgent care facility and a script to knock it out of my system. George ended up picking up my prescriptions along with two turkey dinners from a Boston Market. We were thankful for many things despite missing celebrating with family.

The next day we headed back to our Florida "home base" where I could recuperate and not infect anyone else. I missed out on "apartment hunting" with Meily, who is seriously considering relocating to the Tampa area to be closer to family!

I ended the month of November sneezing, coughing and miserable, but I had already finished my Christmas shopping on-line, had it all wrapped, boxed up and ready to ship out by December 1st. I tend to always be a step ahead, just in case!

Valentine Card Boxes for Lola and...

Emma. Early, but promised last April.

The extravagant Valentine Card Boxes were part of their Christmas gifts. I made them after seeing the ones they had used the year before. I promised I'd make them real pretty ones for next Valentine's day.

Almost forgot to include my new car!

Decided to buy after leasing two prior to this one.

Geo

As soon as we had arrived in Florida in November, I needed to trade in my Nissan, Sentra. That Sentra had been my second lease and I liked the car so much I decided to go ahead any buy this one.

George and I decided that December would be better. Bunion surgery, that was originally scheduled for the 3rd needed to be rescheduled to the 10th so I could recuperate from the sinus infection. After that I'd be spending the rest of the the year just resting and healing. Poor George would have the honor of being my caretaker. Life (as we knew it) was good.

Lucy, feeling bummed out after realizing
we didn't have apple pie for dessert on Turkey Day!

Deep thought for the day:  "Go ahead an make all your plans you like, but never forget that we are just pawns on the chess board of life." ~ vc

While this was written after the outbreak of the COVID-19 Pandemic, I had too much information to document leading up to this devastating time in history. Once we hit my "surgery" date, the story gets even more complicated before we reach the point of "LIFE AS WE KNEW IT."

Last, but not least, Rhode Island

Our last stop found us in "The Ocean State," Rhode Island. I would never have thought that our smallest state would earn that title, but "www.statesymbolsusa.org" states that although the smallest, it has 400 miles of direct access to the Atlantic. It mentions that the only state to beat that mileage is Alaska. I'm assuming there is a difference between coastline and "direct access," because I'm pretty sure any of the east coast states, Hawaii and California can beat that number. Goes to show that you can't believe everything you read (unless it's written by me). Just like GPS's. George can choose to listen to those, but he's usually better off listening to me.

Regardless of it's nickname, I loved Rhode Island and want to return again and again. This stop had us meeting up with friends Tricia, Craig and Charlie, all of us converging at Meadowlark Campground.

Meadowlark earned high marks from all of us despite the fact that we were squeezed into small sights and backed up inches from our neighbors to our rear and awnings almost touched slides. Most of the people in our vicinity were seasonal campers who had been coming here for years and years. It turned out to be such fun with these friendly folks as we joked, shared food and stories.

Photo courtesy of ACR

We all converged on Tricia's and Craig's site to enjoy a meal of whatever we all had in our refrigerators. It turned out to be a great meal.

Charlie's site was right next to theirs and was eerily tucked almost on top of a small cemetery. There were less than a dozen stones that were difficult to read, but we did make out one dated 1776. I wonder who Charlie was parked on top of? I'm not sure I could have slept there and we never ended up eating dinner at his site either. 

A sandy beach was less than a mile from the campground and many interesting historical sights were within walking distance.

Right down the road was the Boyd's Wind Grist Mill. This windmill was the only "eight-vane" mill ever built and operated in New England. Sadly, it's only one of a very few surviving across the United States. I tried researching the others in the US and have come up with nary a one.  I located one in the UK and Germany, but nothing closely resembling Boyd’s here in the States. If anyone reading this knows of any of these unique pieces of history, please leave me a comment with its location.

Our nightly view from our bedroom window were the vanes illuminated by ground lighting. Quite a sight.

Steps away was Paradise School, which now houses the Historical Society and Museum.  It was closed for the Labor Day Weekend, but the exterior was a sight to see with its pale yellow wooden clapboard. A small sign noted the name and year, "1875."

Paradise School

While looking at the building I assumed the bell would have hung in the top cupola and wondered if, as in my own childhood, boys and girls entered and exited through separate doors. I was disappointed at not getting to see the inside so I I had to just imagine how it must have been for students and teacher so long ago. 

The next day found us headed to Bowman's Wharf in Newport where we spent the day strolling around, grabbing lunch and taking an afternoon Trolley Tour.

Bowman's Wharf

George had his eye on that big baby in the background. It was navy blue and white.

We found a nice place for lunch and enjoyed a great meal sitting a flight above a busy street.

Tricia and her date for the day.
Craig's fav football team was playing.

Me and my date.

Photo courtesy of ACR

After lunch we took a short walk to the Trolley station and hopped on for a one and a half hour tour of Newport. George and I believe that there is no better way to learn the history and secrets of a place than a tour upon a trolley. We were fortunate, once more, to have a very talented and witty driver/tour guide. He was an Irish bloke, a Newport native and a retired history teacher, making him a favorite in Charlie's book. This trolley, opposed to our last one in Bar Harbor, was packed full.

Our driver told us stories about his childhood as he rounded turns or passed places where he had played baseball, went to school, or told his best story, which he peppered throughout the tour, which was about Trinity Church. where Princess Diana and Prince Charles Jackie and John F. Kennedy were married. Her family was from the area and we drove past the farm she spent most of her summers. At Trinity Church, there was even a sign with their photo announcing that great event. Coincidentally, our driver's parents got married at that same church in 1951. He told us he's still trying to get a sign displayed out front in their honor.

We were all pretty excited to see a beautifully restored Crown Victoria. It clearly stood out as it inched through the heavily trafficked road. Look at those white-walls. It was a sight for sore eyes.

My name and the word "crown" go together so naturally; don't you think?

No bathing suits, thankfully, just a great "Destination Dinner."

A most enjoyable dinner on the beach.

A view of the beach and cove.

Always a friendly person offering to snap a photo

Capturing the sun setting on our new Jeep Wrangler.
Dis be MY photo.

The next day all of us, except George, hit the Newport Vineyards Winery and Brewery. My new "thing" this summer has been an interest in IPA's and locally brewed beers. Pale Ale's are so far my favorite, but I am new at this game, so my immature palate needs experience.

A line of wine enthusiasts about a mile long greeted us as we pulled up to the winery and we were worried we wouldn't get to participate in a tasting or get a table for lunch. Although that tasting never did come to fruition, we didn't have to wait long for a table and we got to taste whatever we wanted while sitting! 

Waiting on line before we realized we could just make a reservation for a table.
Photo courtesy ACR

The vines

Courtesy of ACR - my "Beer Flight"

Photo courtesy ACR -
The interesting cheeses that paired so well with the different beers. Ah-ma-zing.

At lunch, Tricia ordered a wine flight and I opted for a beer flight. We all shared a cheese board that contained five different cheeses that I've never tasted before. It had crostinies, nuts, fruits and jams as well. I've always known about wine and cheese pairings, but was astounded to discover that it works the same way with beer. And I thought beer only went with pretzels and nuts!  I began noticing distinct notes in each beer as I compared the cheeses. I can't say exactly what those notes were, but one was definitely citrus. This may be a new obsession for me. I'll keep you posted.

We all had a great last day, including George, who got to take his new bicycle out for a long test ride.

Happy for the month to be over.
She had a rough time,
but she carried on like a trooper.

Thirty-two days on the road seemed to quickly come to an end. We got to add five stickers to our map: VT, MA, ME, NH, and RI and Lucy got to add a sticker to her US map of Vet visits. We ate our way back and forth throughout New England and we were able to witness a different way of living, eating and talking. For example, "Hey, ya need more butta with that lobsta?"

Charlie, AKA ACR, also writes a blog and you can compare his notes to mine as he went into much more detail, especially with our trolley tour, sights and food. You can read his version of the day HERE!

Deep thought for the day: All good things must come to an end and all "ends" are the result of beginnings. Enjoy the beginnings, the middles and the ends. If lobster is involved at any portion, don't forget to ask for extra  'butta." ~ vc