Had Wits, Did Travel

Linda Lou Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas, USA – I am home. Get out your calculator. If I woke up at 6 AM in Reykjavik, and sat down with my Katy cat at 11 PM in Little Rock, and Reykjavik is 6 hours ahead time-zone-wise, how long was I awake and on the road? Did you come up with 23 hours? This was a day of units, each unit a different world.

Unit 1 – Center Plaza Hotel & Leaving Reykjavik: Good warm breakfast, checking out (Did you sleep well? Please come back again!), taxi (we’ve learned, taxi drivers just aren’t chatty). The weather was gray and sprinkly; I took pictures of Reykjavik’s colorful buildings as we left the town I have now put on my “Must Visit Again” list, like Quebec City.

Unit 2 – The Reykjavik Airport: From the highway the terminal showed its colors, and, like Perlan, its openness to the sky, gray or blue. Inside everything was open, light, lively. Rick and I said our goodbyes here; his flight was 8 hours direct to Seattle; my flight was 6 hours to Chicago with a 2-hour layover, and then 2 hours to Little Rock. Our flights departed within 15 minutes of each other, so our last wait-times were at different gates. Note: I wore my scarf for warmth here, and not for its mosquito-repellent properties!

Gunnar got me to Gate 35; he was my transporter from checkin to boarding, pushing my wheelchair to all the right checkpoints and the most unusual boarding technique of the entire trip. There was no ramp from inside the building to inside the plane. They had an “elevator on wheels” for those who couldn’t climb the plane’s outside steps. They rolled me onto this device, hoisted the wheelchair UP to plane-door height, and then eased my platform snug against the plane’s far side to a door right behind the pilot! Someone took my bag and stored it; someone helped me to my seat; an aisle seat beside a pleasant young couple from Madison, Wisconsin, fun to talk with and helpful all the way. Only flaw in the flight? No food for free– not even a tiny bag of Goldfish. Somehow I missed this fact when I booked. They had plenty of food, which they cooked to special order for those who pulled out their credit card. Note for future Iceland Air flights: pack some crackers.

Unit 3 – The Chicago Airport: Wheelchair waiting in Chicago. I had two hours to get to my United flight somewhere far away. Enter Paul. He’d only worked there 5 months, but Paul knew his way around O’Hare! He pushed me over half of Chicago as we went up and down elevators, walkways, checkpoints, customs, every known hindrance to man or beast, and got me to my United gate with 15 minutes to spare. I don’t know how he did it! He got the biggest tip of anyone on the entire trip. In fact, I tipped him once and thought about the miracle he pulled and then tipped him again. My United flight to Little Rock, no sweat, small plane on home grounds, a coke and pretzels standard fare.

Unit 4 – Little Rock: My familiar Clinton airport where this journey began 24 days ago. People were waiting to help; a kind man with a wheelchair and smiles and questions about where I’d been pushed me all the way to dear friend Tracy’s waiting car; good bye! Tracy drove me home under an Arkansas full harvest moon, a 15-minute trip. She lugged fancy-schmancy inside, gave me some welcome-home flowers, and made a quick exit, as my eyes were of their own accord closing fast (which sometimes happens after 23 hours).

Katy cat came out of hiding and gave me an accusatory look. “Just where on God’s green earth have you been for 24 days?” it said. “You won’t believe it,” I told her, my eyes blurry now. “Just give me time to get my wits back.”

Next Post: The Vitamin C Story

It’s Great To Be Eighty!

Originally Published July 3, 2020 by Linda Lou Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas – I celebrated my 80^th birthday in Lisbon last year. It was the beginning of a three-week tour of Portugal, Spain, and Morocco. A hurried, harried tour, to be sure, on the bus by 8 AM; never in the same place more than two nights. But the good thing was – we covered a heck of a lot of territory! Grandson Andrew joined me; he had just completed his last college class and had a month to spare before his new job began. What a hoot! Camel rides in the Sahara, wading in the Mediterranean Sea, a stop at the westernmost point of the entire Euro-Asia land mass. Cathedrals and mosques; great art, history, scenery. The Tomb of Christopher Columbus. Todra Gorge. The Atlas Mountains. Olive trees. Oases. A ferry ride across the Strait of Gibraltar. A day IN Gibraltar, fish and chips and monkeys roaming free. I was delighted to tick off five world capital cities on the trip: Paris, Lisbon, Rabat, Madrid, and Amsterdam. A worthy beginning of my 80^th decade.

I proudly posted this proclamation on my refrigerator door, author is Ethel Peairs Brandon: Will you hear the good news from the horse’s mouth? The first eighty years are the hardest! The second eighty years, so far as my experience goes, are a succession of great parties. Everybody wants to carry your packages and help you up the stairs. If you forget your name or anybody else’s, or forget to fill an appointment, if you promise to be two or three places at the same time or spell words wrong, you need only to explain: You are past eighty.

It’s a great deal better than being sixty-five or seventy….At that time everyone expects you to retire to a little house in a warm climate and become a discontented, fumbling, limping has-been. But if you survive until you’re eighty, everybody is surprised you are still in the land of the living. They are amazed you can walk and astounded that you can be lucid. At seventy, people are mad at you for everything. At eighty, they forgive you for anything. Yes, if you ask me, life begins at eighty!

My 81^st birthday this April took a different turn. On March 19 I received the following notice from the Department of State, where I had registered for travel alerts: The Department of State advises U.S. citizens to avoid all international travel due to the global impact of COVID-19. Many countries are experiencing COVID-19 outbreaks and implementing travel restrictions and mandatory quarantines, closing borders, and prohibiting non-citizens from entry with little advance notice. Airlines have cancelled many international flights and several cruise operators have suspended operations or cancelled trips.

Here in Arkansas, by the end of March directives had closed schools, restricted public gatherings, and shut down most of the things I like to do in Little Rock – such as favorite restaurants, and events and lectures at the Clinton Center. I cooked myself a pan of brownies and celebrated my birthday at home. My azaleas were in full bloom, so that was a beautiful gift from Mother Nature.

One of the saddest effects of a quarantined life are the impacts on the elderly, particularly those confined to nursing homes. I have more friends and family than I can count on both hands who are separated from those who love them and are living the last days of their life in isolation.

Yes, it is great to be eighty, as Ethel Brandon proclaimed. But it isn’t great to live in quarantine. Even the very latest directive issued here in Arkansas, as facilities are beginning to open again, states this: Signs must be posted at all entrances advising the public that they may wish to refrain from entering if they are 65 years of age or older. Or if they have underlying health conditions including high blood pressure, chronic lung disease, diabetes, severe obesity, asthma, or weakened immunity.

Us “older folk” lean to humor a lot; it helps alleviate the limitations. Cousin Dwight, the oldest surviving member of my family, is always sending me “old folks jokes” and I received this one in today’s email: To help save the economy, the Government will announce next month that the Immigration Department will start deporting seniors (instead of illegals) in order to lower Social Security and Medicare costs. A major study concluded that older people are easier to catch, offer less resistance, and—most importantly—will not remember how to get back home. Be sure to send this notice to your relatives and friends so they’ll know what happened to you! . . . I started to cry when I thought of you . . . then it dawned on me — I’ll see you on the bus! (author unknown)

It made me laugh, for sure. But seriously speaking – if you know ANYONE who is “home alone” put them on the top of your TO DO list for phone calls, cards, an offer to run errands, a tomato from your garden, anything to let them know they are NOT alone. You can do this if you are eight years old, or eighteen, or, well, even eighty! Maybe, especially if you are eighty, because you are a tried and true survivor.

And THAT is great!

It’s Not Even Past

Linda Burton posting from Arkadelphia, Arkansas – A fifty-foot board? Have you ever heard of such a thing? Old timbers from old trees, from back in the days before pines were harvested from quick-grow pine plantations. Trees grew tall and unmolested, till it was time to build a barn, or a house. The fibers were dense, impervious to the ravages of time. That is why Tim Kaufman’s barn may be one of the sturdiest structures in all of Clark County today. I’m standing at the end of those fifty-foot lengths of board in absolute awe, listening to murmurs from my picnic-mates, who are walking inside the barn, and climbing up into the loft, equally awed. Charlotte Jeffers wangled the invitation for the Clark County Historical Association to come out to Tim’s property on Old Military Road for a summer-evening picnic and a lesson in historic preservation. We’re at the Rosedale Plantation Barn, which was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 2004. It’s a “historic barn” all right, coming from a plantation that was established in 1860.

The preservation part is this: Tim Kaufman, a dentist by profession in Arkadelphia, was interested in barns. He and his wife bought some acreage on Old Military Road a few years back, set up housekeeping in a trailer, and began looking around for old log structures that nobody seemed to care about any more. The Rosedale barn, located elsewhere in the state, was about to be demolished. Tim bought it, carefully disassembled it, tagging each board with a tiny metal marker in a sophisticated numbering system; and moved it to a sweet little hill at the edge of the woods on his land. Leggos, take note. Each board originally was notched and fitted together with the precision of a Roman building an aqueduct; it was meant to last. Tim and his crew painstakingly reassembled the barn exactly as it was before and I’ve no doubt it will stand another 150 years. The barn is 35 by 50 feet, believed to be the largest log barn in the state, a hand-hewn nailless beauty, a marvel preserved. What Tim did was a testament to visionary thinking. But that’s not all Tim-with-a-vision has done. » read more

It’s Called Experience

Brenda and Judy and Nathan at Houma Plantation in Louisiana

Linda Burton posting from Pensacola, Florida traveling from Baton Rouge, Louisiana to Tallahassee, Florida – Country music stars travel a lot; so do politicians. Social media and viral videos may add another dimension as to how we share information, but nothing replaces face-to-face. It’s called experience. This year’s political campaign is a good example of the benefits of “up close and personal.” Candidates racked up the miles and people flocked to their rallies, each wanting the experience of the other. (I tried to get into a Denver rally, but tickets were long gone.) Those music stars don’t hide out in palatial music-star homes watching sales of their albums tote up. They tour. They know that people want the experience of them, and they in turn find out how people respond to what they do. And consider the million miles that Hillary Clinton has covered during her tenure as Secretary of State. She has met with world leaders on their turf, in their environment; such efforts not only allow the visitor a better understanding of why the other fellow looks, feels, and acts as they do, it shows the visitor’s respect for the places, and people, visited. And so it is with the Journey Across America, now 40% complete. Twenty capital cities lived in during the last 309 days; twenty capital cities experienced. » read more

Warm in Little Rock

Linda Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas –White Christmas opened last night at the Arkansas Rep Mainstage. Remember all the songs from that show? Happy Holidays, White Christmas, and those happy tunes in between, like Sisters, and Count Your Blessings; and the grand finale, I’ve Got My Love To Keep Me Warm. Pure Irving Berlin, The snow is snowing, the wind is blowing, but I can weather the storm!…. I’ve got my love to keep me warm. The packed house loved every minute; the Haynes sisters Betty and Judy (played by Jennifer Sheehan and Sarah Agar) were vocal perfection and looked stunning; the Bob and Phil duo (played by Shane Donovan and Case Dillard) charmed us from the start as they shook hands with everyone in the front row (where I had the good fortune of sitting) during the opening number. It’s a kid-friendly show; the two little girls to my left were entranced, never taking their eyes off the dancing feet that were just about eye level from our seats. They were particularly interested in Susan (played by Maddie Lentz, a 6^th grader at Horace Mann Arts and Sciences Middle School), who portrayed the General’s granddaughter hankering to be in show business. Exiting the theater after the champagne reception, still humming White Christmas and thinking snowflakes, I had to unzip my sweater. It was 72 degrees and humid! And it stayed that way today, even during the after-dark Lighting of the Capitol and the holiday fireworks. » read more

It’s Pretty

Linda Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas – I think you’ll agree with me when you visit the Arkansas State Capitol. It’s pretty. You start thinking that when you’re half a block away and can see the shiny bronze doors across the front; they are positively gleaming. The building is brilliantly clean and white; the grounds are neatly groomed; like I said, it’s pretty. Some capitols go for simplicity; some for magnificence. Many put their attention towards works of art; others are designed to reflect the cultural heritage of the state. The Arkansas capitol is pleasing to look at and makes you want to hang around and keep looking. Like I said, it’s pretty. And folks inside are friendly. The security guards greeted me warmly, directing me across the great hallway to the Visitors Desk, right past the decorations that were half in the box but rapidly being placed on the tree by a very patient person with a long-stemmed hook. “I think the tree is 32 feet,” he answered to my question, as I looked up and up through the next balcony into the soaring rotunda. I spotted touches of red on every floor above; I couldn’t wait to see it all. So April took me on a tour. » read more

Give a Cow

Linda Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas – “It was my favorite job,” my father said of being a dairy farmer. He pursued that career path for only three of his ninety-three years, but the memory of that kinship with cows stayed in his mind as he sat behind a desk doing accountant things for most of his life. Those three years on a dairy farm imprinted me as well; I was a pig-tailed second grader when I began Life on the Farm; my father’s right-hand helper, or so he said. Today is his birthday (Craig Sherer Burton, 1918-2011); thinking about him seemed to stir up memories of cows, and the deliciousness of an absolutely fresh dipper of milk. It put the notion in my head to visit Heifer International, which I’d planned to do anyway; it’s an organization I’ve contributed to for years, and I knew that International Headquarters are here in Little Rock, just past the Clinton Center. It’s a beautiful setting at the edge of the Arkansas River, the building is a LEED Certified Green building; airy, light, and pleasant. I was greeted by colorful characters on storyposts and a live volunteer who gave me an overview of what I’d see – the timeline for the work of Heifer International; a map showing projects going on around the world; and the Cornerstones of the organization – spelled out in 12 descriptive blocks as “PASSING GIFTS.” The mission of Heifer International is to end hunger. And it started with a simple idea from an Indiana farmer: Don’t give a cup of milk to someone in need. Give a cow. » read more

The Quapaw Quarter

Linda Burton posting from Little Rock, Arkansas – “You could call me a mutt!” said Janey. “I’m part Choctaw, Cherokee, Chickasaw, Sioux, Irish, Scottish, German, and Canadian. Which means there is some French in there. But I’ve always lived in Little Rock,” she finished up, in answer to my question as to whether she was native to the area. That was yesterday, as I enjoyed my Saturday night supper in the River Market area; Janey was my exuberant, chatty server. We continued our discussion of family history and Little Rock history as I considered dessert. And that discussion inspired me to drive around the city today, browsing my way through the historic areas. Did you know that Little Rock has more than 200 homes and buildings on the National Register of Historic Places? I learned that more than fifteen separate Historic Districts make up something called the Quapaw Quarter, so named in 1961 in honor of the Quapaw Indians who once lived in the area. About the Quapaw Indians first – did you know the state of Arkansas is named for them? » read more