Vacation worth waiting for..........

 

Yesterday afternoon at  Lake Massabesic, Manchester, New Hampshire 

Just so you know, we're fine and having a wonderful trip. . . . . .

. . . . . but staying so busy I have no time to blog!

More coming later.

Hugs -

Peregrine Falcons. . . . . .

Above, meet Woodsie & Maddie - the last two brothers to fledge (preceded by

 brother Hank, and sister Xander who accidentally fledged when she fell off

 the edge a few days too early when exercising her wings - but thankfully 

was rescued from the parking lot below, rehabbed and is fine).

Confession time!  Much of the last couple of weeks, and this weekend, 
were spent glued to my laptop screen.  
I've been addicted/watching the hatching, growing, and then fledging of the four 
precious Peregrine falcon chicks from their nesting area on a 13th floor
 window ledge of an office building in Manchester, NH.

This building was actually where my husband worked for a few years early
 in his career - and visited many times on business for his company in the years
 following when we moved away from Manchester, first to Massachusetts and
 then in 1977 here to Raleigh, NC.

This pair of handsome falcons have raised chicks on the ledge with the sheltering
 box, perch, cameras etc., for many years and the annual springtime process has
 a large following of birders and bird lovers from all over.
Watching those tiny balls of white fluff grow and thrive, and with such caring
 parents, has helped me with the stress of being self-quarantined during all
 the sadness of the current time in our country and around the world.

Maddie & Woodsie enjoying their time together - they were 

exceptionally loving toward each other, once even lying next to each other 

and Maddie putting his wing over Woodsie, which was very sweet to see.

Woodsie - last to fledge on Sunday evening. . . . . . . .

. . . . . after several hours of mom and dad bringing food, dangling it

 before him but flying off with it and not allowing him to eat - cajoling him to

 fledge and meet back up with his siblings on a lower roof where the real 

training in flying and feeding would begin - Woodsie, flapped his wings and

took a leap of faith from the perch!

   

Parents assist their youngsters with finding food for another month or so,

 then the babies are on their own and fly away to find a home elsewhere.

Apparently these parents will return to this nesting site throughout

the year. . . . . hopefully they'll have another family next spring.

Mom telling Woodsie last evening, "it's time to fly away baby boy."

Second confession - I took hundreds of screen shots and videos of the 

falcons - just sharing a few here before I head off to work on learning

 how to use new Blogger today. It's pouring rain and dark and dreary so

 no garden chores required - a good day to stay in and focus on

 something I've been putting off for too long!

Here's to a good week ahead. . . .I'll be watching my garden birds only.

A Memoir - Lakeside in Summer

Besides the bold Merrimack River which rushes over falls near the city's

 former world famous textile mills, where the water provided power in those

 long ago manufacturing days, there is a place of calm and beauty at 

Lake Massabesic in Manchester. 

We always stop at least once when in town, and it's especially

lovely on a hot summer's day, sitting on a bench waterside, watching 

sailboats and kayaks silently drift by - no motorboats permitted.

  

We pick up an ice cream at nearby Goldenrod, the best in town, and sit

 licking the huge cones of 'Frozen Pudding' our favorite old fashioned

 flavor - which we can never find anywhere else these days.

Bob tells me again of his happy childhood days here. They were mostly with

 his older brother John. The things two youngsters could get up to when sent out

 early morning and told not to come home until the street lights came on, would

 scare the heck out of today's parents whose children know very little about

 running free in their suburban neighborhoods, let alone in a bustling city.

This scenic lake is one of those places where one can truly feel relaxed and is

 just a few minutes drive from the cacophony of downtown traffic and bustling

 city sounds.

Manchester, New Hampshire has an extremely interesting history - read more
HERE if interested in the phenomenal growth of the American textile industry, 
sadly now just about gone.

I lived here for a couple years when first married. It was the town where I
 learned how family life was in America. I was fortunate as Bob's parents
 and other family members were close by, and very kind to me, and I needed
 all the help I could get! 
Although the family are gone from town, I enjoy going back and remembering
 those sometimes hard years. They were long ago, yet often feel like yesterday. 
 Sitting and reminiscing at the lake on that recent August day was perfect, and 
I'm thinking we'll be doing it again next year hopefully.

Living it up in the Golden Years!

Allen and 'motorcycle Mary' ready to ride.

I didn't always do as I was told when I was sixteen or so! 

Did you? 

Come on, confess, you know you sometimes broke the rules

 when you were a teenager.

My parents always said, "no riding on motorbikes, far too dangerous."

In the 1950's English boys couldn't afford cars, even my parents never owned a car.

But motorbikes were affordable and a good way to get about town, to work, to play!

Girls queued up for a boyfriend with a motorbike, the bigger and snazzier-looking

 the better the bike. . . . . . . 
. . . . . . . . . not necessarily the boy!

My downfall happened on a summer Saturday night when in town with my girlfriends.

 We would walk along the seafront and stop at a coffee bar to listen to the 
jukebox before heading for the last bus home at 11 o'clock.

Motorbikes would line up outside, engines revving, leathers gleaming, extra helmet

 at the ready for a willing pillion rider. Boys with bikes were show offs - I wonder what

 they drive today, or even if they are able to drive today!

With a little cajoling I hopped aboard Mike's bike - he was nice and I'd known 

him a while. His bike was a powerful, brand new, silver Triumph. Before I

 could change my mind, I was holding on tight and we roared off into the night.

Less than a 10 minute exciting ride home. I told him not to stop in front of my
 house but to drop me in front of another house up the road and I would walk down.

All went perfectly. . . . . . . .until the following Monday when my mother heard from

my French teacher, Miss Taylor, a rather dour spinster who shared the house up

the road with her sister. Her serious comment went something like this.

"Mrs. M. . . . . . .I saw Mary get off the back of a very loud motorbike right outside

my house on Saturday night and just thought you should know."

French class was never the same after that. I was grounded for several weekends.

Later, when I did have a serious boyfriend, I made sure he had a car!

I'm a big girl now, an old girl, and things are different.

Bob and I stopped in at his American Legion Post when in Manchester, NH
 last week. I usually give those places a wide berth, however as it was a dreary
 Saturday afternoon and a local American Legion motorcycle club of mostly 
veterans were cooling off after a run, I went in and we chatted with them for a while. 
A special run coming up in September is to raise money for medical expenses
 for the disabled grandson of a rider named Allen. As we wouldn't be there I gave
 him a donation. . . . .then he offered to take me for a ride!  

I had noticed the bright yellow Gold Wing 'trike' when we arrived and when
he said it was his I thought what the heck, it's now or never - perhaps one last 
chance to ride, and this was safer than a two-wheeled motorbike! 
Bob almost dropped his beer, but didn't try to stop me, and there were
no tattle tale French teachers around!!!

What can I say except that it was interesting and great fun! 

Many people waved to us, including local Police officers!  
Allen must be well known. 
Seeing the city this way was certainly a treat, much
 different than from the inside of a car. 
We even headed out on the highway, south toward Boston for a few
 miles, and Allen opened it up to 65mph, music playing, wind whistling,
 and that 
was
really
exhilarating! 

Would I do it again, you bet I would!  I can add this to my list of what we
older women do for fun, such as zip lining, crossing churning oceans on
 tiny ships, walking with penguins on Antarctica, African safaris etc. etc.

Have you done something exciting recently which took you out of your
 usual comfort zone?
Do tell us about it please.

P.S.  I really wasn't going to share all this nonsense with you, however I see

 my daughter has already posted about her "crazy motorcycle mother" on FaceBook,

and I needed to clarify a few points!

LOVEly week - Photo No: 2

My introduction to ice skating was mostly heading down a slippery slope!  

Or perhaps more of a lumpy, bumpy ride. It was outdoors on a freezing night

 on the magnificent Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool in Washington, D.C.

Frozen solid, it welcomed me to the cold winter of 1962, just after I arrived to

live in the Nation's Capital.

I bought a pair of ice skates attached to real white leather boots - something
 I'd longed for since a child.  

One time on the pool was enough to make me understand why they built smooth 

surfaced ice rinks, running Zamboni machines to keep them that way for

figure skaters, ice dancers and hockey players.

 I gravitated to a rink, never becoming much of a skater myself. . . . . . but I still

 love to watch others twirling on the ice.

How nice it would be to go ice skating with a smiling red cat!

One of many in the series of fantastic cat wall paintings along what has been

 nicknamed, 'Cat Alley', a narrow brick-walled street taking one to the public

 library in my husband Bob's home town of Manchester, New Hampshire.