31st Aug 1940
This reunion was cancelled due to the infantile paralysis epidemic present in the northern section of this state.
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The Phend-Fisher families gathered for a reunion in Northern Indiana almost annually from 1909 until 1943. The events of the day were recorded in an old ledger book. Spelling has been retained as it was in the original though some punctuation and paragraph breaks have been added. To view all articles in this series click on the "Phend-Fisher Reunion Ledger" label at the bottom of this post.
I think the building with the impressive golden roof is the National Museum.
By the way, moi, before going out for the stroll making sure I am fully wrapped.
Not sure if this is the Negrelli Viaduct Bridge.
Tramline along the river.
Nove Mesto
View to the Old Town or Stare Mesto.
View to the Lesser Town or Mala Strana.
Having returned to Boston from our stay on Cape Cod, we were greeted by the "Leaf Season" in full effect. It happens so fast! This is very new for 
This is the fist time I have ridden my Pashley in over two weeks, and the absence made me hyper-aware of the differences between her and my Motobecane mixte. To my surprise, the upright sitting position took a bit of re-adjusting to: To be completely honest, I was somewhat frustrated with the bicycle's composed and stately demeanor after having grown accustomed to the faster and more responsive mixte. Also, I do not have a front rack or basket on the mixte, so another thing that took some re-adjustment on the Pashley was the enormous basket obstructing my view of the front tire.
It was a crisp Autumn day, and it felt oh so cozy to glide through the streets in my soft, flowing cream sweater upon the nicely broken in leather saddle.
I tried to capture the sweater here, but this wasn't my day for successful self-portraiture. Wearing it made me feel as if I were officially acknowledging and celebrating Autumn.
Tweed hat, bought at the Provincetown Army/Navy store - my current favourite cycling cap.
And an attempt at a "Panda shot". Not very informative I admit - but hey, it captures the moment. Happy Autumn cycling!
In describing my experience in a paceline training ride earlier, I had written that my Rivendellwas not the right bike for that ride. Subsequently, I've received some suggestions for how to make it faster - including getting narrower tires, installing "brifters," removing the saddlebag, rack and fenders, and stripping off the dynamo lighting. While I appreciate the advice and agree that all of that may indeed improve my paceline performance, I do not plan to make any changes to this bicycle. Right now, I have a bicycle that is perfectfor me as a touring bike. Why turn something that's perfect for one activity into something that's okay but not ideal for another?
In stating that my Rivendell was not the right bike for a racing team-sponsored paceline ride, I was by no means criticising it or expressing unhappiness with it. I was merely reiterating a simple fact: Touring bikes are not racing bikes. 
A touring bicycle is about exploration and about experiencing one's surroundings. You cannot do that when cycling 6" behind someone's rear wheel at 20mph. 
A touring bike is about the long haul and about going at one's own pace.I use the computer as a handlebar-mounted clock and odometer more than I use it as a speedometer - because "how far" is a more interesting question for this bike than "how fast."
A touring bike is about the freedom of going anywhere, without having to cultivate the handling skills of a pro racer. Comfortable geometry and stable handling enable novice and experienced cyclists alike to ride. My bicycle is easy, and its wide, cushy tires make me immune to most of the fears that plague cyclists on modern roadbikes: potholes, rain, sand, uneven terrain - bring them on. I can even wear nice clothing while I'm at it, because the fenders will protect me from road grime. And with my bright, dynamo-generated lights I can cycle through the night and not worry about batteries.
A touring bike is a home away from home. In my saddlebag, on the day this picture was taken I carried: a large DSLR camera, a sweater, a hat, an apple, a notebook, a fountain pen, a bar of chocolate, a saddle cover, gloves, sunscreen, a lock and a mini pump. And that's nothing compared to what I could have brought had I also attached my handlebar bag. Setting off on a racing bike limits you to a training ride and nothing more. On a touring bikea ride can start out as one thing and morph into another. Groceries can be involved, or a spontaneous visit to a friend's house. Who knows!
Riding a touring bike is an organic experience. My Rivendell'ssteel, brass, canvas, leather, twine, shellac and rubber fit harmoniously with its riding style and with my enjoyment of exploring nature. It is not about competing with nature with ever-more-efficient materials and aerodynamic postures, but about simply existing.
In turning this bicycleinto a performance-oriented bike, I would essentially be giving up the very things that make it special. And that would be a shame.
Sure, we may be curious about pacelines and racing.
But not at the expense of smelling the flowers. Some bicycles are perfect just the way they are.
Recent mountain achievements include 
A distinct category of transportation bicycles that has emerged in parallel to the contemporary classic Dutch bikes and English roadsters, is the city bike with mountain bike heritage. I have tried four distinct bicycles from this genre so far: the Retrovelo, the Urbana, the Pilen, and the Paper Bicycle.
The lugged Retrovelo is the most deceptively traditional looking of the bunch. But behind the facade of an elegant European city bicycle, it is essentially a remake of an early mountain bike design - made speedier with the fast rolling Schwalbe Fat Frank tires (originally made for Retrovelo and named after its designer Frank Patitz). When I rode a Retrovelo for the first time, I noticed that its handling felt different from that of Dutch city bikes and English roadsters, but could not articulate how or why. Having now tried other bicycles with MTB roots, it makes more sense.
The swan-framedPilen surprised me with an even more dramatic difference in handling from traditional European city bikes. Its "unfellability" reminded me of one of those roly-poly toys that stay upright no matter how far you try to push them to the side. It was on the Pilen that I overcame my dislike of cycling on grassy hills and rock-strewn trails. And with its Schwalbe Big Apples in 700C, it towered over other bikes in city traffic while also breezily rolling over rough terrain. 
Pushing the limits of my aesthetic open-mindedness, the Urbana is basically a downhill mountain bike redesigned with a low step-over U-frame, fitted with BMX handlebars, and equipped with all the contraptions necessary for transportational cycling - including a rear rack that, together with the frame design, allows the bike to carry an insane amount of weight without impacting handling. Unabashedly industrial looking, the Urbana does not aim at classic prettiness. But it sure rides well - rolling over substantial road debris and hopping curbs on its 2.6" wide tires with monster-truck ease and city bike grace.
And then there is the Paper Bicycle. With its seemingly bizarre construction, this bike manages to combine an upright sitting position with the type of "bad ass" mountain-bikey handling that inspired me to actually try riding it down a steep rocky hill (successfully). On top of that, it is responsive enough to ride long distance, as a single speed.
On the trail to Willow Hole.
It was nice that someone showed me the way to go! One couple that I talked to on the way back thought that the trail ended here.
And that dry river bed? Well, it wasn't really dry at all. Along the edges I noticed that the sand was darker. Digging into it with my hands confirmed that it was damp and going down a little further it was really wet. Further along the trail there was standing water in some spots. It was an unusual winter throughout most of the U.S., wet and cold. And that unusual winter has given us an unusual spring as well, with water showing up in places where it hasn't been for many years.
Willow Hole. A pool of black, brackish water.
This area was about a mile from Willow Hole. On my way in I had met a couple and we had talked for a while then they started back out. As I returned they were sitting on the two large rocks in the foreground with their feet soaking in the water. They said it was refreshing and asked me to join them, which I did. When I got my shoes and socks off and stuck my feet in the water, they laughed because I immediately pulled my feet out. The water was cold. Extremely cold. I was amazed and wasn't expecting that, but they were right, it was refreshing. We sat there for half an hour or more, talking and relaxing.
At the end of the trail. Done! Is my face flushed from the heat and sun or is it a reflection from that bright red shirt?
Philo came up with a solution. He built a two-legged table that fits over the sill, doubling the depth so more plants can fit. 
Three of the Christmas cactus had set buds and went on the new shelf. The poky fourth one went out to the patio table.... maybe it will still set buds and catch up. 
The salmon geranium at right has been blooming in the breakfast room window since March of .. but the red cyclamen at left was a recent impulse purchase. One of the jade plants was tucked in, a just budded Mother-of-Thousands came in from the patio to stand on the floor at left and the aloe vera is jammed in back. When it gets colder the Meyer's Lemon can stand on the floor on the right.
So our inside garden will be safe when the real freeze arrives. Perhaps I should have left the iris outside to take its chances but there's something so interesting and surreal in seeing them on the table [with a couple of sprigs of lavender!] on November 27th. 
Outside, the light frost hadn't affected the Cestrum nocturnum on the south wall. This night-blooming jasmine usually releases its scent only after dark but I could smell its powdery scent today at 10 AM. 
The 'Champagne' mini rose continues to bud and flower in the secret garden. 
Cilantro plants go to seed when the heat arrives. The leaves are cilantro, but the seeds are coriander. After the seeds dried on last spring's plants I tossed them around and a few seedlings have sprouted to grow in cooler weather. 
Most of the pecan and ash leaves are still on the tree - actually they're still green - but there were lots of wet, brown pecan leaves to rake. They don't add much fall color, do they? In the background you can see the second Meyer's Lemon, planted in the ground near the south wall, still shrouded in its frost-cover. 
While raking I found a bunch of pecans and picked them all up. You know how you sort of learn to guess the relative weight of an object with experience? When I was in college I worked in a deli, and after some time could know what a half-pound was. This fall we learned to pick up pecans and know instantly which nutshells will be full, which empty, and which only partially developed. The good nuts are the smaller group lined up at the bottom and the larger group at the top are all empties. 
Pecans and iris at the same time! Who could have guessed this would be our November harvest?