Connect the dots from the green pin to the boxy thing

I never would have guessed that the best way to get something from Pennsylvania to Boston is through Tennessee. But then, geography was never my strong point.

(Memphis must be FedEx City.)

Taken at the "Importance of Presence in Presentations" session at the
UPA Boston Mini Conference.

It is now.

There’s nothing quite like a commute home from work in the snow.

It started off with me slipping and sliding along the barely-cleaned sidewalks of Cambridge to get to my T stop. It’s really quite an adrenaline rush as you feel your legs slip in odd directions, anticipating the fall that is sure to follow, only to remain standing a moment later, with a false sense of security at having beaten the ice this time.

Later, having safely arrived at West Natick on the Commuter Rail, I was greeted with the beautiful sight of even more snow than in Cambridge. As I climbed over the mounds of snow piled up by the plows who don’t care about pedestrians, and as I tried (unsuccessfully) to avoid stepping in the deeper puddles of slush that accumulate on the sides of the road, I thought to myself, “Isn’t it great living in New England?”

When I finally waddled over to my car, I found that it was covered in a nice thick layer of pure white snow, waiting for me, challenging me, taunting me. After clearing most of the snow off the car and onto my clothes, I got into the warm car and started the final leg of my journey home.

Although I passed at least six plows along the way, the road was mostly still covered in snow. That’s understandable, of course, since it was only about 1-2″ on the ground and everyone knows that’s child’s play for your average Massachusetts driver. My Honda Accord took full advantage of the situation, sliding to the left and right on a whim, bouncing off of snow banks. What fun!

Finally, I arrived at home. Although I knew it was futile to begin with, I tried to drive up our long, fairly steep, unplowed driveway. I made it about half-way before the car started sliding backwards. Without being in Reverse. I accepted defeat, parked the car at the bottom of the driveway, and walked up the hill toward the house. I’m happy to report that I only almost fell twice. I consider that an accomplishment.

New England winter, I <3 you.

When my parents bought their house, we found a box in the attic full of newspapers and magazines from 1963 and 1964, all about the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. All the newspapers are local to the Hartford area, with a few exceptions like The Boston Herald. For me, it’s like a gold mine – you have this snapshot of American history all in one nice package.

Manchester Evening Herald: Friday, November 22, 1963
Daily News: Monday, November 25, 1963
The Hartford Courant: Saturday Morning, November 23, 1963
The Boston Herald: Saturday, November 23, 1963
The Hartford Times: Friday, November 22, 1963

The most interesting thing about such a collection are the visuals. You see photos that are so famous now – like the shot that killed Lee Harvey Oswald, Jackie and the kids watching the funeral procession, John Jr. saluting his father. At the time, these visuals were new and stunning. Now they are still stunning because of their historical significance. Seeing them the way people saw them in 1963 is just amazing.

LIFE magazine: December 3, 1963

Of course the other great thing about this collection are the ads. When I get my hands on a scanner, I will post some of the more amusing ones I’ve found. Maybe eventually I will go through all the newspapers and magazines to pick out the most interesting bits of history and document them somewhere. But that’s a big job, so it’ll have to wait for the time being.

I counted 13 red lights telling me a train was coming. I guess better
safe than sorry?

The drive to the train station was beautiful this morning. It snowed on Sunday morning and then snowed even more overnight.

It got me thinking that one of the things I love about living in New England is that we get the beauty and colors of all seasons. Winter is a pristine white, spring is the bright colors of new growth and flowers, summer is a lush green, and fall is a bright palette of reds, yellows, and oranges. Why would I want to live anywhere else?

Someone built this tiny snowman at my train stop. It totally made my day as I was waiting for the train in the feels-like-sub-zero temperature this morning.