buckle-up

  Whereas Margo never really likes to mix business with pleasure, this past month such a mix was unavoidable. Business required us to participate in a HPE Nonstop community gathering in Dallas (Hurst), Texas. Pleasure, if it is fair to call it that, required us to return to Longmont, Colorado. The serious side of selling our condo to our daughter Anna and our son-in-law Erich was to begin and we had a desire to get this moving so we could make plans for the rest of the year.  We readily recall having stepped off a Princess cruise ship during the early months of 2026 and, here it is, almost half-way through the year, and another journey beckoned. It’s safe to say that in our honest opinion the years seem to be passing by rather quickly. In so doing it seems we are just wrapping up a future plan when the future arrives. We do like to travel, as this blog ceaselessly reminds us all, but it’s getting a bit old of late, not so much the travel but as our peers will attest, it’s th...

There are snobs and then there are wine snobs. Fortunately, neither Margo or myself falls into either category but throwing up a photo like this to capture an important time for us both seemed to be the right thing to do. It’s a season that includes our wedding anniversary, Margo’s birthday and then my own. Enjoying a Penfolds Grange that had lost a little of its “body,” slightly watered down through the years, accompanying Margo’s cooked chicken – with the wine, there was no need for sides – a 1996 vintage bottled in 1997, mind you, and the year 1997 was the year we became engaged.  Around this time of year, we like to plan an escape from the chilly temperatures of the Florida panhandle. When we witnessed the thermometer dropping below temperatures being registered at our old address in Colorado, it was cause for considerable head-scratching. What were we thinking? Familiar as we were with Florida’s Keys, we thought these would be what we would encounter in the panhandle but no, n...

  Visiting the charming coastal Dublin suburb of Howth There was a time, not too long ago, when the romance of travel still felt real. The lead up to the actual day of travel in the knowledge that the world was about to reveal itself in ways unimaginable, as flight attendants poured a welcoming glass of champaign. There were visas, traveler’s checks, hotel bookings – it was all quite thrilling. Well up to a point I have to admit. However, not so much these days. Indeed, there are times when regrets are involved in lieu of days you would consider the material that fills the pages of travel books. For nearly a month, from the last day of May through to the end of June, Margo and I squeezed in visits to Dublin, Ireland, London, Paris with a side of Bordeaux. We managed to fly, uber, train and sail and through it all there were numerous anxious moments involving a shrinking selection of clean clothes as well as a declining interest in the local cuisine. The journey Back when it was exc...

With my back to our suite and my eyes locked on far away sights, it was once again time to go down to the sea in ship s. The title of a movie made ages ago, but I have to admit my thoughts were more about the lines from the poem by John Masefield: “ I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky. ” What has become an all too familiar tradition of Margo and I, as the days pass by and the times together over Thanksgiving and Christmas are but a distant memory, we seem to be always drawn to the ocean and to a cruise out on its waters. As you read this post, we are anchored within the coral reefs surrounding Belize, having pulled into Colon, Limon and Roatan. As for the photo above, you may come across it in other posts and commentaries but it does capture the essence of why we sail. Our means of transportation across the Caribbean this time has been the Viking Mars. A formula ocean going Viking vessel following exactly the same lines as other Viking Ocean going ships, it b...

  Finding ourselves between meetings on both sides of the North Sea, it only seemed fair that we succumbed to the temptation of making the crossing by ship. After all, it was a long holiday weekend back in North America as both sides of the forty-ninth parallel celebrated historically important events. To say it was a sleepy time for all involved would not be accurate and yet, suggesting fireworks doesn’t seem to convey the significance. For Australians 1776 marked a change of destination for ships out of England as one day it was off to Georgia and the next, to Botany Bay. Eking out a little downtime while maintaining a working schedule is always a difficult proposition at the best of times and yet, relief was at hand given how Wimbledon was in full swing as was the ashes battle between old sparing partners, Australia and the Marylebone Cricket Club (Otherwise known as England and Wales). Not to mention that supporters of St Louis Cardinals and the Chicago White Sox were in old ...