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The Cruise--Details

I didn't include more details in the prior "The Cruise" post for two reasons. 1)  I didn't think anyone would be interested; and 2)  This trip didn't include much of the normal topics:  good beer, good coffee or John-style travel. But there are details, which may be useful to some people contemplating how such a trip is put together. On the first day of the trip, we drove three hours to pick up my mother in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.  At 85, she isn't comfortable driving for long distances and hadn't flown for many years. We then drove 3 1/2 more hours to Chicago, where we checked into the Wyndham, where you can get a room that includes the cost of parking for up to 12 days.   We were up early on the hotel shuttle to O'Hare, where we then boarded the a non-stop American Airlines flight to New Orleans. Here, we checked into a Hampton Inn near the port.  My mother was pretty tired, so Julia and I went out for a Cajun dinner and live music.   Rememberi...

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While other people sleep in on this Saturday morning, my body wakes with the sun and urges me up.  A few minutes after 6 a.m, Elvis the dog  and I hiked into town, up and down a few hills, and past a quiet Main Street.  The cafe was packed with old folks.  The more trendy coffee shop and cupcake shop were still empty, waiting for the upscale younger crowd to wander in.

Coming up the driveway, I noticed that the squirrel I accidentally hit yesterday afternoon was already gone.  Nature wastes nothing.  I felt bad about hitting the squirrel, although I have been at war with the long-tailed rodents for a few years.  I like to feed our wild birds, and the squirrels have been raiding my various feeders for a long time.  I have been known to take pot shots at the raiders with my one-shot pellet pistol.  I missed more than I hit, but I did manage to hit a few.

Recently, I purchased an overpriced squirrel guard for the bird feeder, which was simple but effective.  Since it worked, I guess it wasn’t overpriced.

Since installation, the squirrels have been content to eat the birds’ wasted seed on the ground, rather than climbing up the pole, lifting up the lid, and stuffing their greedy heads into the feeder itself  to eat like pigs at a trough.  I no longer feel animosity towards the grounded squirrels.

After arriving at home, I grabbed my bag of freshly roasted Mexican coffee beans.
Actually, the beans were baked, not roasted.  And that’s an important distinction.  Properly roasted beans undergo temperature changes from room temperature to over 400 degrees.  My heat gun crapped out on me during yesterday’s roasting session.  Beans that normally roast in 12-15 minutes took over 30 minutes with the dying heat gun.  Not a good thing.  Baked beans taste flat. Still, these fresh baked beans were still an improvement over anything that I could buy locally. And being the frugal guy that I am, I couldn’t throw away the baked beans!

There was a time when I would drink nothing but a ristretto (restricted espresso shot). Those days of purity are long past. Today, I opted for a simpler form of making coffee–a method that will serve me well when I begin travels with the Scamp.




Justin and I are taking it easy.  Julia is off in Nashville at a meeting.  She left me this cup from a previous meeting to remember her by–with a semi-famous Ben Franklin quote.

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