8 October, 2013: Wednesday, JDHS on a cool, foggy morning walk with Dancer ...

The picture below came from Steamin' Days at the Marshall Steam Museum in Yorklyn, Delaware, which is near Hockessin. These are miniature steam engine trains which moves visitors around the property.
The museum has one of the largest collection of Stanley Steamer automobiles. Got there thanks to Goose's sister Kathy, a volunteer ticket taker, who offered up two free tickets.

John Dickinson in the early morning chill and fog on a walk with Dancer. We walked and I did about four middle-aged jogs to amount to little over 3 miles. Posted this on FB. 

The Words for the poem and the link to Heifetz 

playing "Beau Soir". 

poem by Paul Bourget

When the rivulets are rosy in the setting sun,
And a mild tremor runs over the wheat fields,
An exhortation to be happy seems to emanate from things
And rises towards the troubled heart.

An exhortation to enjoy the charm of being alive
While one is young and the evening is beautiful,
For we are going on, as this stream goes on:
The stream to the sea, we to the grave.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IuDms-cOu3I

Above is link to YouTube video that I took of mom walking the hallway backed up by Nick, before he left for Philly. Today was momentous as I woke very early (shortly after 2 a.m.) and stayed up to do piddly things like sort my e-mail in my iPhone and read the amazing start of "How We Die" by the doctor who won a National Book Award.

But dad is having rougher days. I did all the meals today from breakfast to lunch and then heated up dinner for mom and made a cheese/tomato/ham melt for dad, who ate only half of it. Much more needs to be written as I went to Pathmark to food shop (Terry helped me out by showing me where the Pam was and a microwaveable bowl for the carrots that tasted so sweet), I heard a melancholy, beautiful melody and thought of dad and the tears, which will be abundant in the months ahead, began to flow. Such is the power of music. NPR had a segment on the upcoming 200th bday of Verdi and dad and I listened to it, dad asking me the opera that played a segment of on the program. It was La Traviata, I think, but dad is full of knowledge and he is sharing it with me and it is a true gift, maybe that's why the tears came because that will be gone and I will miss it, like Bob missed the opportunity to tell his mom that she was terminally ill. We had a long talk today on the phone and it was good to hear his voice and to make plans, at least plan to make plans, to get together. He sent me his more useful e-mail and I changed it in my Google address book. 

More needs to be added but the dog needs walking around the big block and Nick is moving toward a dinner date with John, who has a lesson at 7 p.m., at Monk's in Philly. He'll be back late but feels confident in his GPS to make his way home. I'm not worried but I'll be up till he gets home. Watch a Frontline piece on the concussion-related syndrome linked to the NFL tonight. It is two hours and runs from 9-11 p.m. Dad will be asleep but mom will be up and I can watch it on the flat screen, HDTV.