I'm In Sync With Delaware Public Libraries!

When I started my 2008 Reading Log at the New Year, I had no idea that I was pre-joining a new program about to be offered by the Delaware Public Libraries.

The Delaware Division of Libraries' Center for the Book has announced "Between the Lines," a journaling program designed to help readers use journals to "help them direct their free-choice learning to achieve self-awareness, self-improvement and self-empowerment." The program includes hard-bound spiral notebooks that participants can use to record their reading and their thoughts about their reading.

That's pretty much what I've been doing with my Reading Log. I swiped the idea from Jessamyn West (a librarian), but it's a fairly standard blogging approach.

I plan to stick with my on-line journal, but I think I'll try to attend the workshop the Libraries folks are offering later this month at Lewes Public Library about Between the lines. It's one of a series they plan (PDF).

I'm a big fan of the public library, especially my library here in Lewes. It's where I find so many great books.

Rather Than Re-Typing the Whole Thing Here...

Allow me to direct your attention to a post I wrote this week for The NSGIC Blog. The post, Boundaries Matter, is about the Delaware vs New Jersey boundary kerfuffle and a somewhat similar boundary dispute between Georgia and Tennessee.

I'm a member of NSGIC -- The National States Geographic Information Council -- and one of the authors on that group's blog. We try to highlight stories and issues of interest to the people in the various states who create and share geospatial data.

Stories about boundaries -- state boundaries -- are definitely of interest.

Down on the Corner...

I had an opportunity this week-end to go visit a spot I've wanted to visit for some time: Boundary Monument 0, the Middle Point. This is the southwest corner of the state of Delaware, where the boundary between Delaware and Maryland turns north.

My older daughter had plans Saturday evening for a sleep-over at a class-mate's house. Because she attends the county-wide technical high school, and has since middle-school gone once a week to Academic Challenge classes at the local community college, my daughter has very good friends in all corners of Sussex County. Her sleep-over this weekend was at a farmhouse west of Seaford, almost at the state line near Woodland Ferry.

After I dropped her off, I took advantage of the sunlight and did a bit of exploring. I wanted to see the Woodland Ferry, which has recently shut down and will be replaced with a larger boat. The ferry crosses the Nanticoke River at a small old settlement called Woodland, south of Seaford.

From there, I followed a small road along the west bank of the Nanticoke River, heading downstream towards Maryland. The road got smaller and smaller, following the edges of farm fields until it turned abruptly west, crossed a marshy creek, and entered Maryland. I had planned to use the smaller roads to cut through Galestown, cross the Nanticoke at Sharptown, and head south to pick up Route 54 at Mardela Springs, and so head back into Delaware at the Corner.

I came around a sharp bend in the road to Galestown, however, and came upon a pile of dirt, a parked crane and a clear denial of entry into town. Apparently, the Spillway at Galestown Millpond was washed out, blocking several routes through town. I had to backtrack north to Reliance and head west and then south the long way around.

A pleasant surprise of this detour was a visit to Eldorado, Maryland. It included this noble church. That part of Delmarva has great wide-open fields and a slight roll to the landscape. Very impressive on a clear winter afternoon.

Eventually, I found myself rolling east on Route 54. Up ahead I spotted a small half-circle pull-off and the pavillion that protects the monument that marks the boundary. The Monument was placed by Mason and Dixon, to mark the start of the line they surveyed north and then west. They started their line at the Middle Point of a line surveyed across the center of the Delmarva peninsula by an earlier team. Their stone, inscribed with the coats of arms of Lord Baltimore and William Penn, joined several other boundary stones placed by earlier surveyors. In modern times, a Benchmark was added and officially recorded.

This is a part of Delaware 's history, and geography, that fascinates me. Part of my job is to work with the digital version of the boundaries and data that were started by Mason and Dixon, and folks like them, hundreds of years ago. Their chain of stones marking a north-south line up the peninsula is a part of the geospatial data that we rely on today and that I help to make available to Delaware's citizens.

So it was very cool to finally get a chance to go visit the first one.

Photo Archive Memories #4

In 1990, Karen and I took a trip to Washington state, visiting Snoqualmie, Mt. Ranier and the San Juan Islands, with a brief side-trip into Canada to Victoria. It was still early in our marriage and we were childless and adventurous. As usual, I took a healthy number of photos, a few of which I have lately scanned to my flickr pages.

We had booked ourselves into a guided bicycle tour of the San Juan Islands. Before joining that group, we planned a quiet few days in the nearby mountains.

We started at Snoqualmie, where we acclimated and took a hike in mountain woods. We visited Snoqualmie Falls, where we watched a man fight for what seemed hours with a Salmon that he eventually hiked away with. We visited Mt. Ranier and hiked on the upper trails for a few hours. It was foggy and overcast, but we caught a few glacier glimpses when the wind cleared things out.

We then joined a small group of tourists on bikes, starting from the port of Anacortes and traveling by Ferry from Island to Island in Puget Sound. On each we toured by bicycle and stayed in various inns and hotels.

Neither Karen nor I were (or are) accomplished cyclists. We had some time to train, but riding around coastal Sussex County, Delaware, where highway overpasses are the highest hills, is not truly sufficient training for even the moderate rolling hills of the San Juan Islands. So, it was a challenge. We faced it bravely though, and while we weren't the fastest or strongest riders, we had a great time and saw mountains and water and boats and countryside. And that was why we had come.

On one island, we visited a hippie-run resort that offered sea-kayak tours. We paddled out into the Sound and saw eagles' nests and more cliffs and natural beauty. On the way back, we were paced by seals, that liked to pop up behind us and watch our backs. A guide showed us a way to fool them by paddling backwards. I wish I had had my camera, but it seemed wiser to leave it on shore.

I remember changing from my bathing suit back into biking clothes in a nathroom near the kitchen of this resort's main building. There was some truly tasting-sounding live Dead being played by the kitchen staff. This was in the days before the internet archive Dead collection and even before the Dead's "From the Vault" series, so it was a rare and enticing treat.

To end the trip, we crossed into Canada at Sidney, on Vancouver Island, and rode to Victoria by way of Butchard Gardens, a played-out quarry converted to a very floral garden. It is a lovely spot near Tod Inlet and Brentwood Bay.

Victoria was very nice as well. It was the first place I've ever been where drivers stopped for pedestrians trying to cross the street. That was a level of politeness that surprised and pleased me.

Victoria was our final stop. From there we took a high-speed ferry back to Seattle, flew from Seattle to Chicago where we spent most of an uncomfortable night in O'Hare Airport before a final flight home.

Pinewoods Walk

I took a walk on the Pinelands Nature Trail in Cape Henlopen State Park this afternoon. It was a warm day and I felt the need to get out and tromp around.

The rain we've had lately had pretty much closed the entrance to that trail that I used to use. There was a stretch of trail about ten feet long where there was four to six inches of standing water. That's not what you're seeing here. This is a wet spot in the pine woods.

I took the bike trail out towards the beach and jumped onto the pinelands trail from there. I took the whole loop around and came back along the beach. It took a bit more than an hour.

It was dark and quiet in the woods. Though there were patches of bright sunlight here and there.

I took a moment to climb one of the old Fort Miles bunkers now covered in trees and shrubs.

Coming out, I saw the white deer I've seen in the Park in the past. It was well-across the old parade ground and too far for my camera to get a clear picture. But it was cool to see it again.

Then home, a nice dinner and the Superbowl.

Photo Archive Memories #3

The Lovely Karen and I were married in September of 1988. After a wild reception, we spent a night at the Inner Harbor in Baltimore and hopped a Swissair Flight to Geneva for an alpine adventure.

My wedding gift from Karen was a Cannon EOS camera. It was a film camera (this was almost 20 years ago, kids) and I used up (I think) 14 rolls of 36-exposure film on that trip. I've scanned a few of them to flickr as part of my on-going scanned from the archives collection.

We took a train to Locarno, on Lake Maggiore, down by the Italian Border, where we stayed on our own for a few days before joining a hot-air balloon tour. I was counting on my high-school French lessons and the good will of the Swiss people to get by; most people in this part of Switzerland, however, spoke Italian.

It was a quiet few days. We struggled to overcome jet-lag and walked around looking at things like historic and lovely monasteries.

We then took a train through part of Italy and beneath a mountain to Bern, where we joined a small group led by an outfit known as The Bombard Society for a week of hot-air balloon flights and sight-seeing.

This was a wonderful way to see Switzerland. We were two of only four tourists on this trip. Our companions were two elderly singles and the three members of the Bombard staff, who were great tour leaders and cool people.

Each morning we drove to a launch site for a flight planned, based on the day's winds, to take us near fun things to see. We'd land, lunch, tour, have dinner and return to a luxury downtown Bern hotel for a deep sleep.

Our first flight ended with an exciting wind-driven drag across a meadow that left us sideways in the basket laughing and exhilarated while local kids raced across the field to see the excitement. We followed that with morning champaign.

One morning we planned to take off from this hill-side farm. The winds were too strong, so we visited with the farmer, his wife, and 20-something daughter. We got the sense that the tour leader was carrying on a flirtation with the daughter.

We got to see the inside of the farmhouse/barn to the right in this photo. At the center of the building is a massive brick wood-stove that heats the farmhouse on one side and a barn on the other. We breakfasted with the farmer and his workers, who tackled eggs by the half-dozen each. There was fresh-baked cake and coffee and laughter.

When we took off into a clear morning sky, the farmer's parents were waving to us from the windows of their house; the one on the left.

We got to see Bern from very high up. We visited ancient walled towns. We saw geology up close. We soared over beautiful scenery.

We generally ate at small, local restaurants. There was a different local beer in each. There were unique local foods. Our tour guides and staff ate with us and within a very short time we were a tight-knit, happy group.

One day, we traveled high into the mountains for coffee at an outdoor alpine cafe. I took a photo looking out over a deep green valley and high white mountains. It happened that, a few years later, our local theater group, the Possum Point Players, performed The Sound of Music. I took the part of Max. Karen was in the orchestra. I was thrilled to have this photo used on the program cover.

All in all, it was a perfect honeymoon and gave a strong start to a marriage that will turn twenty this fall. I'm indebted to my parents, who paid for the trip and to a now closed travel agency in Rehoboth, where I stumbled across a note about the Bombard Society in a Swissair catalog.

Now I just hope that the dollar's value improves against the Euro. I'd like to go back some day.

Damn You, Art Garfunkel (Shakes Fist)

I'm feeling very eclipsed by the singer Art Garfunkel just now. Not because he's a better singer than I am; that's been true longer than I've been alive. I'm pretty much used to that. No, what has me feeling beaten is Art's reading list, which puts my new Reading Log blog to shame.

I started a 2008 Reading Log to celebrate the new year. I plan to post the titles of, and a bit about, each book I enjoy his year. You may have noticed the Book Log RSS feed I've placed in the left side column.

This is not a new idea. I swiped it from the librarian Jessamyn West.

But today, reading the New Yorker magazine, I came upon a report on the Garfunkel Library, "a chronological index of the thousand and twenty-three books that he has read since June, 1968." Forty years of reading, recorded on loose-leaf paper, and now posted on the official Art Garfunkel web site.

That's some impressive obsessiveness, Mr. Garfunkel.

Photo Archive Memories #2

This is George, one of many cats who have been part of my family. I took this photo in front of my parents' house in Bethany Beach sometime in the mid to late 1980s. I think he looks very noble.

As a kitten, George came to live with my Grandmother for the last part of her life. He was the quietly purring presence on her lap when we came to visit. He took her death hard (we all did) and had a rough transition to the larger family life.

I remember George bolting from my parents' place when they brought him home; he hid for a long time under the neighbor's porch and several of us sat nearby hoping to entice him out with friendliness.

He eventually settled in, but brought a surly, put-upon attitude to the house. Yet he remains one of my favorite cats. Despite his testiness, I always felt a close bond with George. He would as soon punch you with a balled-up paw as rub against your leg, but he frequently did both. A friendly nod from George was a wonderful treat.

George grew to be a large, muscular lion-like cat. Out among the dune-plants at the Bethany house he seemed very like a jungle king.

Photo Archive Memories #1

This is Boots, a German Shepherd/Beagle mixed breed who was part of my family in the 1970s. He was the dog part of whatever "a boy and his dog" aesthetic my life has ever held.

Boots was one half of a doggy duo with Joey, an older Beagle. They got along fairly well, as I recall, with a tired and wise Joey teaching a young and rambunctious Boots all about being the family dog.

I remember Boots being very frightened by thunderstorms and managing to wedge his not small body behind a bookshelf during one storm.

I have a memory, and I think it is accurate, of Boots resting his head on my feet as I sat in the living room. I remember walking him and I think he was along one day when my mother, at least one other brother, and I hiked out into a several-foot deep freak snowstorm late one winter.

This photo was taken late in Boots' life. He lived a long life and I think he was happy. He certainly did not lack for kids to romp with.

He did have to learn to live with a large number of cats over his lifetime. At times there were probably three cats, and sometimes a rabbit, in the house with him.

But Boots was a good-hearted sort. Not too bright, but ready to love and be loved.

The National Portrait Gallery Has A Sense of Humor

We were in northern Virginia this week-end for a dance competition in Crystal City. Our daughters were in dance classes all day on Saturday and part of Sunday; they performed in competition Saturday evening. They did quite well, thank you.

While we were not needed Saturday afternoon, Karen and I went wandering by Metro with a few friends. We visited the National Portrait Museum, where, among other exhibits, there hangs the Steven Colbert portrait.

Colbert has been airing a several-part series lately about his efforts to get the serial portrait from the set of his Colbert Report added to a museum in Washington. The Portrait Gallery people agreed to play along, for a while, and have placed the Colbert Portrait between the Men's and Women's rooms outside the gallery of presidential portraits on the second floor.

It is drawing a crowd.

We found folks photographing the portrait or having their own portrait photographed with Colbert's. And lots of people standing around to watch.

It made it a bit hard to get to the Men's room.