Sights, Scenes and Travel of an everyday person

A Poem Revisited

 Bright orange and red autumn leaves on a tall tree set against a vivid blue sky, capturing the color and clarity of early fall.

⭐  “October’s Bright Blue Weather”

Some things stay with you your whole life. When I was in fifth grade, we had to memorize October’s Bright Blue Weather by Helen Hunt Jackson for English class. At the time, I didn’t realize how deeply it would root itself in me — how those crisp images of autumn air and bright blue skies would follow me into adulthood.

All these many years later, it’s still one of my favorite poems. There’s something about the way Jackson captures October that feels exactly right: the clarity, the stillness, the sense of change in the air. Every time the calendar turns to fall, I find myself thinking of those lines again, remembering the rhythm of the words and the way they made the season feel bigger than the world I knew at ten years old.

And of course, Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” sits right beside it in my heart — two roads diverging, choices made, paths followed. Both poems have stayed with me, shaping the way I see autumn, memory, and the quiet turning of the year.

October’s Bright Blue Weather

O suns and skies and clouds of June,
And flowers of June together,
Ye cannot rival for one hour
October’s bright blue weather;

When loud the bumblebee makes haste, Belated, thriftless vagrant,
And goldenrod is dying fast,
And lanes with grapes are fragrant;

When gentians roll their fingers tight
To save them for the morning,
And chestnuts fall from satin burrs
Without a sound of warning;

When on the ground red apples lie
In piles like jewels shining,
And redder still on old stone walls
Are leaves of woodbine twining;

When all the lovely wayside things
Their white-winged seeds are sowing,
And in the fields still green and fair,
Late aftermaths are growing;

When springs run low, and on the brooks,
In idle golden freighting,
Bright leaves sink noiseless in the hush
Of woods, for winter waiting;

When comrades seek sweet country haunts,
By twos and twos together,
And count like misers, hour by hour,
October’s bright blue weather.

O sun and skies and flowers of June,
Count all your boasts together,
Love loveth best of all the year
October’s bright blue weather

Helen Hunt Jackson

Some favorites never fade. They just deepen.

 

Ten Years Later: My Vegas Memory Lane

Nighttime view of the Polo Towers high‑rise on the Las Vegas Strip, illuminated in purple and white lights with palm trees and the Harley‑Davidson Café sign in the foreground.

A City That Never Stops Changing

Ten years is a long time, and I can only imagine how much Las Vegas has transformed since my last visit. Back then, I made several trips — with my friend Joe, with my sister, for a business convention, and even alone. Every trip had its own flavor, and somehow I still never managed to see everything I wanted.

Not a Gambler, But Still a Vegas Explorer  
Bright casino interior with rows of colorful slot machines, patterned carpet, and illuminated signage creating a lively Las Vegas atmosphere.

I’m not a gambler, so the casinos never held much attraction for me. They’re interesting for the noise and the energy, but I can lose my money all on my own. I don’t need a slot machine or a blackjack table to empty my pockets.

Polo Towers: My Home Base on the Strip

  
Dusk view of the Polo Towers building on the Las Vegas Strip, with exterior lighting and palm trees in the foreground.One of my favorite places to stay was Polo Towers, a timeshare high‑rise right on the Strip. They treated me and my guests like gold. And the best part? The guest gift was chocolate — delicious chocolate. You’re supposed to get one box at check‑in, but for reasons beyond my understanding, they left a box in my room almost every day. I think I went home with five boxes. Did I need them? No. Did I say no? Absolutely not.

Jersey Boys: A Night to Remember

The highlight of that trip was Jersey Boys, the Frankie Valli tribute show. Great music, great performances — I walked out singing to myself and feeling higher than a kite.

Stage performance of four singers in dark suits under blue lighting, recreating a classic Jersey Boys–style musical moment in Las Vegas.

  
Big Bus double‑decker tour bus passing the Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas sign on a sunny day, with palm trees and blue sky in the background.Exploring the Strip the Smart Way

My sister Sandy and I had a blast exploring the Strip. We bought a day pass on the hop‑on hop‑off bus because, let’s be honest, Vegas is hot. And yes, I know what they say: “It’s a dry heat.” Dry or not, neither of us wanted to trek up and down that concrete roadway. The bus was absolutely the way to go.

Cactus Gardens and Chocolate StoresDesert garden scene with prickly pear cactus, tall ocotillo stems, and desert trees under a clear blue sky.

Outside Vegas proper, we visited a botanical garden. It felt strange to go to a garden only to see cactus, but it was interesting. The best part, though, was the chocolate store. I know — didn’t we have enough back at the hotel?

Hoover Dam: Impressive Once, Enough Forever

Wide view of Hoover Dam’s curved concrete structure set against rocky desert mountains on the Nevada–Arizona border.We also visited Hoover Dam, which really is something to see. The tour takes you inside the dam where all the machinery hides. It was interesting, but not being an engineer, one trip was enough for me.

Valley of Fire: The One That Got Away

What I still haven’t seen — and would love to — is Valley of Fire State Park. It’sLayered red and pink sandstone with smooth wave‑like striations set against dark rock formations and a bright blue desert sky. Nevada’s oldest and most dramatic state park, famous for its brilliant red Aztec sandstone formations, ancient petroglyphs carved by the Ancestral Puebloans, and sweeping desert landscapes that look like another planet. The Fire Wave, Elephant Rock, and the slot canyons along Mouse’s Tank Trail are some of the most photographed spots in the Southwest. Every time I see pictures, I think, “How did I miss this?” One day, I’ll get there — and I know it’ll be worth the wait.

The Neon Museum: Joe’s Adventure

When Joe joined me in Vegas, he managed to visit the Neon Museum, also called the Neon Boneyard. It’s where all the old marquees and neon lights of Vegas past go to retire. I’d love to see that someday too.

Tourist posing with two Las Vegas showgirls in silver sequined costumes and feathered headdresses, standing outdoors with palm trees in the background.

Food, Fun, and Fountains

Two elephants surrounded by lush greenery and colorful flowers, highlighted by dramatic lighting in a Rainforest Café–style setting.We ate at Bobby’s Burgers, owned by Bobby Flay, and at the elaborate Rainforest Café. We rode the gondolas at the Venetian, spent money in the mall gift shops, and of course watched the dancing fountains at the Bellagio. I almost forgot — we rode the High Roller, heard the volcano erupt, and so much more.

 

Madame Tussauds: A Day With LegendsVisitor posing beside a wax figure seated in a vintage car display at Madame Tussauds, with a black‑and‑white city street backdrop.

We spent almost a whole day at Madame Tussauds, taking pictures with the wax figures — Elvis, Lucy, Wayne Newton, Michael Jackson, to name just a few.

 

A City Full of Memories

I guess you could say we made a lot of memories.

Two visitors posing in front of a colorful LINQ backdrop featuring the illuminated High Roller Ferris wheel and Las Vegas hotel lights.

 

🐾 A Trip Down Kitty Chaos Memory Lane

Every now and then my blog stats take a little stroll through the archives, and today they dug up this gem from 2013. I had completely forgotten about it — back when the household was ruled by Buddy, Smoky, and Rocky.

If you think Banner and Balboa invented chaos, mischief, and dramatic flair… oh no. They’re simply carrying on a proud family tradition with great enthusiasm.

Enjoy this blast from the past — proof that my life has always been run by cats.

What are these cats thinking? Part 1

Morning Rituals and Demanding Cats

It’s just another day in the life here at the old homestead. 3 cats, 1 human.

Stepping out of the shower I’m greeted by my “Bud”. Buddy has figured out that after the shower comes the hair dryer and he loves to have a blow dry to start the day.  A handsome fellow like Buddy has to look his best.

Senior Cat Smokey, aka Mr. Cranky Pants continues his demanding ways. I’m working, Buddy and Rocky are sleeping but what’s that sound? A soft pitiful meow! Looking around I see a small bundle of gray fur curled at my feet, big eyes staring intently, “meow”.

Only the tiniest of sounds. I ask what’s wrong and a paw reaches out to tap my leg. I stand and he uncurls, heading for the feeding station. Oh my, his bowl is only half full. Surely he will starve to death before it’s time for dinner.

Chaos on the Staircase

The laundry is on the first level. My condo, on the 2nd. As I open my door, arms full of clean clothes fresh from the dryer, a black and white streak nearly bowls me over and scoots down the stairs.

Dry laundry gets tossed onto the couch as the chase begins. A black tail with a white tip darts around the bottom of the stairs and disappears around the corner. Hitting the last step, the turn is sharp — just in time to see that tail vanish again at the far end of the hall.

I race down there. I don’t want Buddy running into one of the dogs that live here or being let outside. As I round the last corner I see …nothing!

My heart starts to pound. Slowly I begin climbing the stairs on that end of the hall. First flight, nothing, 2nd flight and there he is, sitting there on the landing, waiting for me.

I pick up his Majesty and cradle him in my arms. Back down the 2 flights of stairs, back down the long hall and back up the last flight to my unit.

I open the door, set the errant one on the floor and close the door very fast.

Laundry Folding: A Full‑Contact Sport

I return to the couch to start folding the nice , warm, clean clothes only to find Rocky has made a nest and is curled up on top of the pile. Now every time I try to pull out a towel or shirt or sock I have to unhook his possessive claw. I try to shoo him away but he only digs in harder. He doesn’t give up until the last item is folded. Then he stalks away, annoyed that his warm bed was “stolen” from him.

The Basket Bandit Strikes Again

Holiday2013 021 copy

I turn to put the folded clothes in my basket to carry them all to be put away and come face to face with his Majesty again. This time he’s taken up residence in the clothes basket.

Holiday2013 023 copy

I give up leaving him to play jail bird in the basket while I carry the  stacks of folded clothes to the bedroom. Finally, everything is put away but they aren’t done with me yet.

Some things change… but cats being cats? That’s forever.

When Travel Feels Like Imagination Come to Life

 

Yesterday I shared my thoughts on imagination — that wonderful, boundless world we carry in our minds. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized something surprising. Those same feelings of wonder, disbelief, and pure childlike awe show up in another part of my life too: when I’m traveling and exploring the world.

There’s a particular kind of magic that happens when reality feels too extraordinary to be real. It’s the same spark I felt as a child pretending to see fairies in the woods, only now it comes from standing in front of places so breathtaking they feel like they were dreamed into existence.

🌄 The Grand Canyon: A Vision Too Vast to Believe

I still remember the first time I laid eyes on the Grand Canyon. The wonder of it was overwhelming — a dizzying spectacle of color, depth, and silence. People say it “takes your breath away,” and for once that wasn’t an exaggeration. I literally forgot to breathe.

It felt like a projection, a backdrop, something painted by a giant with an overactive imagination. How could anything so massive, so intricate, so impossibly beautiful be real? And yet there it was, stretching out before me, daring me to believe my own eyes.

Grand Canyon

🌋 Hawaii’s Chain of Craters Road: Fire Meeting the Sea

Another moment etched into my memory forever happened on Hawaii’s Chain of Craters Road. I had nothing but a disposable camera with me, but honestly, no photograph could have captured what I saw.

Plumes of brilliant white vog rose where molten lava met the ocean. The sky was a vivid, endless blue. The contrast was surreal — like watching the earth breathe. It was raw, elemental, and unforgettable.

🦌 Wyoming’s Elk Migration: Wildness in Motion

In Wyoming, I watched elk herds migrate across the landscape. There were fences, roads, and signs of human life all around, but none of it mattered. In that moment, those animals were exactly what they had always been — wild, free, and following ancient paths to their wintering grounds.

Elk Migration

It felt like witnessing a story older than memory.

🌡️ Yellowstone’s Geysers: A Step Back in TimeOld Faithful Erupts

Yellowstone added its own chapter to my collection of wonders. The primal energy of the geysers, the hiss of steam, the earth rumbling beneath my feet — it all felt like stepping into a prehistoric world.

Buffalo wandered through clouds of steam along the Firehole River as if they had been doing it for centuries. Maybe they had. Time seemed to fold in on itself there.

snuba at Turtletown 2020

🌊 Encounters Beneath the Waves

Some of my most magical travel moments happened underwater. I’ve snorkeled with manta rays and scuba‑dived with sea turtles, drifting through a world so peaceful and alien it felt like a dream.

I’ve watched humpback whales breach with breathtaking power, and I’ve been surrounded by dolphins spinning and leaping like acrobats putting on a private show.

And then there are the tiny wonders — like the little octopus I spotted off Maui, curious and delicate, reminding me that magic exists at every scale.

✨ Wonder That Stays With You

When I think of the places I’ve been, I hardly have the words to describe the wonder. How do you put experiences like that into sentences? How do you capture the feeling of being so small and so alive at the same time?

Maybe you don’t. Maybe you just carry those moments with you — treasures you can revisit anytime your mind needs a spark of joy or a reminder that the world is far bigger and more beautiful than we often remember.

These memories are my own living daydreams, the real‑world magic I get to enjoy over and over again. And in their own way, they’re every bit as powerful as imagination itself.

 

The Great Marshmallow Roast: Celebrating National Toasted Marshmallow Day

The Toasted Marshmallow

Every year on August 30th, we celebrate one of life’s stickiest pleasures—National Toasted Marshmallow Day. It’s the perfect excuse to gather around a campfire, skewer a fluffy marshmallow, and test your patience (or your fire safety skills).

11,800+ Marshmallow Fire Stock Photos, Pictures & Royalty ...

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There are two main schools of thought when it comes to marshmallow roasting. The first is the Golden-Brown Purist. These folks carefully hold their marshmallow above the flame, rotating it slowly like it’s a sugar rotisserie chicken. The result? A perfectly even golden crust with a soft, gooey center. These people probably iron their socks and alphabetize their spice racks.

20+ Golden Brown Toasted Marshmallow Stock Photos, Pictures ...

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Then we have the Marshmallow Arsonists. You know who you are. You jam the marshmallow directly into the fire, watch it erupt into a sugar torch, panic, and then wave it around like you’re signaling planes to land. By the time the flames go out, you’ve created a charred husk filled with molten sugar lava. And yet, it still tastes amazing.

3,100+ Marshmallow Burning Stock Photos, Pictures & Royalty ...

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Of course, the toasted marshmallow rarely travels solo. When paired with chocolate and graham crackers, it transforms into the legendary s’more. This humble creation is proof that life is better when it’s gooey, messy, and slightly over the top. One bite, and suddenly “just one more” becomes a campfire chant.

4,500+ Smores Stock Photos, Pictures & Royalty-Free Images ...

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But even eaten plain, a toasted marshmallow carries nostalgia. It’s childhood summers, crackling fires, sticky fingers, and maybe even a singed eyebrow or two. It’s the kind of simple pleasure that makes you laugh while trying not to burn your tongue.

So, however you roast—whether you’re a patient spinner or a marshmallow pyromaniac—today’s the day to celebrate. Grab a stick, light a fire, and toast to sweet, sticky chaos. Wet wipes optional, but highly recommended.

Snoopy

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