The photos below should have been linked to rakkity’s Ming Tombs entry. I don’t know how I missed them.

Saturday night Diane and I invited John Lewis to eat with us at The Cracker Barrel restaurant in Tyngesboro (Shirley’s treat). Diane ordered chicken and dumplings, fried okra and turnip greens while John raved about his open-face roast beef sandwich with gravy. We had enough money left from our gift certificate to buy a Cheyenne DVD with three episodes from the long running western. Those were hour long shows and Diane and I watched it for two successive nights. On the way home from the restaurant we listened to country and western music.

Episode 1

The Storm Riders (Feb 7, 1956)

From tv.com:

A rancher named John Dembro gives shelter to Cheyenne who’s been hurt in an “incident” on the adjoining ranch owned by Martin Storm. Both Dembro’s teenaged daughter, Johnny, and her stepmother, Sheila, are anxious to treat Cheyenne’s injuries and they become bitter rivals. Soon Dembro persuades the recovered Cheyenne to help him unite the other small ranchers to oppose Storm who maintains his authority through a hired “gun” named Swallow. Cheyenne kills Swallow in a shootout. Dembro becomes drunk in the ensuing celebration and dies in a fire, though Sheila could have saved him. Now free of her husband, Sheila makes a play for Cheyenne who spurns her. Hurt and angry, the increasingly-deranged Sheila has Cheyenne arrested, claiming he killed her husband. Sheila’s deemed too crazy to give credible testimony so Cheyenne is freed but townspeople, believing Cheyenne’s guilty, form a lynch mob, egged on by Storm. Johnny arrives on the scene and convinces the crowd of Cheyenne’s innocence. Storm now rides off, knocking down Sheila and killing her. The Sheriff then fires at the fleeing Storm and kills him.

But he’s just added three more entries from his trip to Jordan.

Stolen from chopkins.com to dress up my site.

Michael,

Knowing how you like panos, I’m sending a link of 3 photos of Prague that I cobbled together into a near panoramic montage (not Photoshop quality, but reasonably good) while I was going through our shots of Eastern Europe.

Patrick has some good shots which we just digitized, and I’ll add them to the collection I’m assembling.

–rakkity

Michael,

Sorry this is late, but we’ve been locked into calls to the West coast.

Mrs Rakkity confirmed my suspicions that she’d rather not have either high tech or diamonds. What she’d really want is a trip to Cinque Terre, Italy, or a dozen dinners at the Galileo Laboratorio (equivalent in price).

–rakkity

We dropped in on Flo after Peter offered to bring his girls down for an after lunch visit. Once we’ve all found a place to sit, this time outside, around back, Peter and I always walk over to Concord Teacakes for coffee and brownies. We drink our coffee and we bring the brownies back and watch them sit uneaten in the white box.

At Teacakes I ask for a small cup of black while Peter engages the young blond girl – about Matt’s age – behind the counter. On the blackboard, above the counter and behind the teenager’s head, is a complete list of offerings.

Something like this:

Small Latte / Cappuccino $1.95
Med. Latte / Cappuccino $2.95
Lg. Latte / Cappuccino $3.95

And on and on through regular coffees, cakes, sandwiches, etc. .

Peter says loudly to the air, “What do I usually get?”

I say to myself, you always ask for a medium latte cappuccino and the befuddled counter girl always asks, “Latte or cappuccino?”

Peter scans the board and says, “There it is, I’d like a medium latte cappuccino.”

Blondie asks, “Which do you want. Latte or cappuccino?”

Peter looks back at the board and repeats himself. “Latte cappuccino,” but then, as always, he catches himself.

“Which one has foam?” he asks.

“Cappuccino.”

“That’s what I’ll have, and one of every brownie.”

On the way back to Concord Park, as we’re crossing the railroad tracks, Peter asks, “How are you doing?” As in, I’m sorry your mom’s dead, can you get out of bed in the morning?

Matthew still claims I never answer a question, and this time I try to be direct. “I’m doing all right. What was it like for you?” I’m asking about his mother, although I could be asking about his father or Patti.

“That’s easy. Everything they tell you is a lie. It never gets better. I miss Jo like she died yesterday. There are questions I should have asked. There are things I should have done. I wish she was here for the girls.

“You’re a real source of comfort.” I don’t really mean it. I mean I do. What I don’t mean is what’s implied in my response. For me it’s comforting to hear honest answers. Like a turkey leg. I may not like it, but it gives me something to chew on. Peter hears what’s implied and blushes.

“Hey, someone has to give you the other side. . I was watching TV the other day and I saw this advertisement for ending depression in a single day.”

“With a forty-five?” I mutter, waiting for him to laugh, but he didn’t quite hear me.

“In forty-five days? No a single day.”

“No, with a .45,” I said. “Otherwise it’s a scam.”

Last night at the Colonial Inn in Concord.

Michael,

Katie had her 22nd birthday yesterday, and while we (Mrs Rakkity, Patrick & fiancee Georgia) were celebrating at Outback restaurant I asked KT if she had seen the USA Today article about women’s preferences for diamonds or tech toys. According to the article, today’s women would prefer a digital toy to a diamond necklace. (When I saw that article, I thought about Mrs Rakkity and guessed that she’d prefer a low-tech washing machine or a lawnmower to an iPod or diamonds.) Anyway, I asked the birthday girl what sort of woman she was–a techie or a diamond lover. She responded emphatically, “High tech!”

So what had we planned to give her, and what did we give her? A digital camera, of course. She was estatic. But having thought ahead back in Beijing way before the tech/diamond article appeared, I got KT a jade bracelet. And she liked that too, but not quite as much asthe camera.

–rakkity

(picture coming tonight)

rakkity,

Give a girl a camera and you get a pretty sunset, give her a video cam and you might get this .

Michael

This photo of Goose in Costa Rica sent to me by his mom.

(click)

On the way home, early morning, southern Indiana. I look at this and think what a peaceful beginning. Diane looks at this, sees a long, lonely drive home, and says, “I’m glad I wasn’t with you.”

Speaking of “early Grohe,” Adam. Same town, a block from “Ohio and Erie Canal.” The photos on his website of a freshly finished wall are much more impressive. Still, as I was talking to Dan who’d guided me in, “We could have painted this one.”

Especially compared to the Columbus mural – amost vertical and it still looks three dimensional.

50 Lincoln Way East, Massillon, OH