“Why am I crying?”

Twenty years ago, seeing this in person for the first time….

A view of graves at the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial. [Photo by me, 1995.]
A view of graves at the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial. [Photo by me, 1995.]

….I was overwhelmed emotionally and I’ve never forgotten it.

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The Morning After

Had a Friday night with friends in Bristol. Awoke to this view this morning:

View of Bristol, England. [Photo by me, 2015.]
View of Bristol, England. [Photo by me, 2015.]
Last evening, I vaguely recall a dinner that included pleasant amounts of Prosecco (enjoying it while it’s still available!), white wine, and Port.

Hey, look what I found in their kitchen early this morning:

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Stonehenge

Although it’s only 45 minutes away from where we live now in Wiltshire, and had been about an hour from where we’d lived previously in Dorset for a decade, we had never been to Stonehenge.

Saturday night, on impulse, we thought, “Well, why not on Sunday?”

Rule 1: Try to get there as early as you can. It opens at 9:30. The web site encourages pre-booking, which we did. Early arrivals have no trouble parking (finding parking can be exciting in Britain) and the magnificent attraction is pleasantly “serene.”

That doesn’t last long. By the time we left about 1 PM, the car park was much fuller. At least two dozen coachloads of visitors had appeared as well.

Welcome to Stonehenge. [Photo by me, 2015.]
Welcome to Stonehenge. [Photo by me, 2015.]

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Spinning Out Of Control

I’m sure some of you reading this were born in the late 1980s and 1990s. The era of which I write about in the novels is therefore in a real sense “history” to you. It pre-dates either your consciousness of the wider world…. or even your birth itself! ;-)

Strasbourg, France. Home of the European Parliament. [Photo by me, 1996.]
Strasbourg, France. Home of the European Parliament. [Photo by me, 1996.]

It’s trite to point out that one can’t hope to begin to understand the present without understanding the past; yet it’s absolutely true. And trying to appreciate the human outlook of any “past” is a vital aspect of that effort. This article in Die Zeit about Germany’s attitude and approach to the world since 1989 could in large measure apply elsewhere in Europe as well as to the U.S.A.:

A quarter of a century after the fall of the Berlin Wall … we’ve woken up and it feels like a bad dream….

….Crisis has become the new normal. The years between 1990 and now were the exception.

The psychological repercussions of this fundamentally new situation on Europe’s political elites are both brutal and curious at the same time. Those aged 45 to 65 currently in positions of power have only known growing prosperity, freedom and cultural sophistication. They were, and to a large extent still are, predisposed to exert themselves only modestly, act responsibly and expect that they could enjoy the fruits of their labor. And suddenly history has unceremoniously grabbed them by the scruff of the neck. Do we really need to fight now? More than ever? And what does our cardiologist have to say?

I’m sharing that article and writing this post because that piece hit me hard. I fall into the “early part” of that age group; but I was certainly not “powerful” in 1989. (Nor am I now!) Speaking here only for myself, of course, I also vividly recall the post-fall of the Berlin Wall atmosphere: it fills my novels and is meant to do so.

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A Home Run: 28 April 1935

I can’t believe the timing. I happened to glance up at this yesterday afternoon and noticed the date the artist wrote on it. It’s hanging over my writing desk:

My grandfather, the baseball player, in a 1935 sports pages cartoon.
My grandfather, the baseball player, in a 1935 sports pages cartoon.

It’s in a good sized picture frame. I photographed it “artistically” to post here – blurring it deliberately and cropping it because his name is on it. Drawn on April 28, 1935 and shortly thereafter published in a now long-defunct New York City local newspaper, it’s a sports page cartoon of my baseball-playing grandfather after he had smashed a “home run.”

80 years ago, yesterday.

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More “Distances” Cover Fun

I know this post appears much later in the morning than usual. However, when you have an unexpected light bulb go off over your head you have to drop almost everything and get the idea into your manuscript as quickly as possible. If you don’t, it may vanish forever….

Having done that, on to this post. Yesterday saw me pass 40,000 words. So with Distances looking daily more and more like an actual book, rather than just bits and pieces, I took a break and decided to have another mess around with a potential cover. That’s always fun:

“Distances” draft cover, April 28, 2015.

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Relaxing London Saturday

We missed the rain: it rained earlier. Back from a morning stroll:

Bluebells are still out. [Photo by me today.]
Bluebells are still out. [Photo by me today.]
Rare this field is ever so unpeopled. [Photo by me today.]
Rare this field is ever so unpeopled. [Photo by me today.]
New signage for 2015. [Photo by me today.]
New signage for 2015. [Photo by me today.]
Although I have War and Remembrance with me on this visit to the in-laws, I don’t plan “to think” too much today. (Now, no snickering about when do I actually think!) Simply I hope to enjoy some “quiet” time.

You have a good day too, wherever you are. :-)

Our Old School Chums

Today, this blog is in “Hala mania” hangover mode. If you missed the party, it was not something that happens here very often. Thanks to my interviewing Lebanese journalist Hala Feghaly on Monday, through yesterday I’d been inundated with new visitors, mostly from Lebanon.

Yes, yes, yes, I know they came by for her, so I presume most won’t be back longer-term. Although, you never know; one can but hope a few stick around. In any event, let’s return here today to what passes for “normal.”

Dawn breaking over our back garden in Wiltshire. [Photo by me, about 5:30 am this morning.]
Dawn breaking over our back garden in Wiltshire. [Photo by me, about 5:30 am this morning.]

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In The Sunshine

Calm has returned after Lebanese journalist Hala Feghaly’s presence on my modest blog here attracted a pop star-level horde of visitors yesterday.

Visitor source countries yesterday, most visitors to fewest.
Visitor source countries yesterday, most visitors to fewest.

Yet I’m seeing yesterday’s trend beginning again this morning. I’ve had many more visitors than usual this early in the day (around 7 am, as I post this), which makes sense as Lebanon is two hours later than Britain. If you’re here for Hala, “Hello,” and this is the post you are probably looking for: just click the photo to see the whole thing:

Screen capture of the opening of my chat with her.
Screen capture of the opening of my chat with her.

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Planespotting

We flew back to the U.K. last night from Boston’s Logan Airport. We’d arrived in the U.S. there three weeks ago on a freezing evening and I’d never been to Logan before; and I was impressed with Arrivals. I was impressed again Friday afternoon for another reason: it’s right off I-90 and much easier to drive to from upstate New York than I had realized.

International airports have always greatly intrigued me. They are remarkable places. Before we’d flown to the U.S., I grabbed this photo of passing aircraft at London Heathrow’s Terminal 5:

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