on the train
Nov. 20th, 2019 01:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Did you know that Amtrak trains have free wifi?
I might have known that, I ought to have known that, but somehow I had forgotten, and so when the thing popped up and was like “sign into the free wifi!” i was like the what now.
Anyway. Sometimes it doesn’t work, Mom points out, being a seasoned long-haul train traveler of late, but I know sometimes the power outlets next to the seat don’t work either, and in my current situation, both are working, so I’m delighted. It’s not fast enough to load any of Tumblr’s content but Dreamwidth works just fine thanks, so.
I woke up at 4am, of course, preoccupied by worry that I’d somehow oversleep. The cat was happy enough to spend an hour sleeping on my face and purring, so I did that until a bit after five, when I got up and double-checked my packing list and sat quietly for a bit so as not to wake Dude. At six I decided he could wake up anytime now, so I went and did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen a bit, so that when I come home to a mess in almost two weeks at least I’ll know it wasn’t like that the whole time. Then I dashed around and prepared the things I need him to bring with him when he comes. I did manage to cram the point and shoot camera into my gear, and my nightshirt which hadn’t been dry yet when I packed (I don’t use the clothes dryer if I can avoid it, and I figured twelve hours on hangers would be enough, and it was for almost everything but not that), but I did not bring any shoes besides my huge snow boots so we’ll just have to hope they suit for the whole visit. I did have to leave behind my dress-up-for-Thanksgiving outfit, but Dude can bring that, surely.
As I was assembling my goods I was worried about how heavy and unwieldy everything is, and Dude graciously offered to swap banjos with me, because mine weighs like 30 pounds and his weighs 5. It hadn’t occurred to him that I might like to do that, even though I’d asked him if we could another time when I was traveling. It wasn’t as pointed then, I think, because I was going by car and really it didn’t matter that much, but. Anyhow, he offered, so I accepted. So that made it much easier for me to get myself onto the train. The real miscalculation was that as I was loading my backpack, I kept putting in just one more book, just one more book, and it’s now like fifty pounds and I’m dying. Also I wore a bulky sweater and my coat doesn’t fit over it properly– the coat is an old one, and much too large, except it’s got tiny biceps because it was clearly graded up poorly from straight sizes (for real, I have freakishly tiny shoulders given my overall girth, and smallish arms, I never ever need a full bicep adjustment, and yet), and it’s too tight for me to move my arms with this sweater on, so that made it really difficult to get all my shit onto the train. But I did it! So. here I am.
Mom texted this morning that she’s not feeling any better, and worse, Dad woke up sick to his stomach. On the one hand, I hope it’s not contagious, but on the other hand– Dad’s sole serious health problems in his entire life that have required hospitalization were 1) a freak infection in his thumb possibly caused by a sewing needle, and 2) diverticu… litis, I think? Something super bad in the digestive system. He spent a week in the hospital that time and missed an entire visit of the grandkids. It was just awful. He was in good spirits about it; he was in the hospital where his mother and mother-in-law both died, actually (several years apart, it’s not the hospital’s fault, and they were both well into their nineties), and there’s a beautiful view of the Hudson, and he said he did a lot of thinking. But. Still!!!
Anyhow, so I’m torn as to whether i hope this is another idiosyncratic Dad thing or something like norovirus. God, norovirus would be terrible, because if Mom gets it and she’s already laid up, she’ll just be so miserable. But also. Dad. and his 75-year-old intestines.
Man i have really had an easy run of this aging parents thing so far and I’d really like this easy run to continue a bit longer. Dad’s grandpa made it to 101 in good health but he was a miserable cuss, Dad might be too nice to have that kind of luck. At least he’s not stubborn or too stoic– he doesn’t complain about much but he’s pretty sensible. (The other thing that’s nice is that two of my sisters live so close and the third one will be staying with her later this week. My coworker’s an only child and I’m like holy shit that’s a lot of pressure and he’s like, well, I didn’t know there was any other way, but I’m like believe me it’s fantastic having competent siblings. But I am unreasonably fortunate, overall, and especially in my family.)
Well, I’m on the train now, anyway, and have a few hours to read and write and look out the window. I love riding the train. This is going to sound hokey, but listen, I’m from New York State and have lived here all my life except a year in the UK and a year in Jersey City, but I’ve lived all over the state and I really like all of it. There’s a ton of beautiful scenery you can’t see or appreciate from the highway, and the train route goes right through it. Just now it’s a birch forest; a moment ago it was an expanse of snowy cornfields with some barns, an occasional windmill, and an old farmhouse or two. There’s a lot of field corn still standing, dry and yellow, and the hedgerows have some clinging foliage still, orange and yellow, with all the sumac still bright red-tipped. The snow is old and fading, revealing still-green grass underneath in places. Out here the roads are straight, the terrain gently rolling at most but largely flat, but as we go east it’ll start to get more vertical motion.
The thing I really like about the train tracks is that they’re behind everything. Things face the roads, and the tracks look into the backyards.
In a couple of hours, the train route picks up the Mohawk River, and runs along the bank for a long time, and the scenery there is just gorgeous. I’m trying to restrain myself from posting nonstop Instagram stories of how pretty it is, even dreary with early winter. I just saw a red-tailed hawk awkwardly flapping after a takeoff, and a massive squirrel nest in the fork of a bare tree. A little man-made pond for livestock, the back of a barnyard– and a sudden housing development of identical vinyl-sided condos. But now we’re back to a cornfield with deep muddy ruts where someone got that harvest in even in the terrible wet.
Did you know that Amtrak trains have free wifi?
I might have known that, I ought to have known that, but somehow I had forgotten, and so when the thing popped up and was like “sign into the free wifi!” i was like the what now.
Anyway. Sometimes it doesn’t work, Mom points out, being a seasoned long-haul train traveler of late, but I know sometimes the power outlets next to the seat don’t work either, and in my current situation, both are working, so I’m delighted. It’s not fast enough to load any of Tumblr’s content but Dreamwidth works just fine thanks, so.
I woke up at 4am, of course, preoccupied by worry that I’d somehow oversleep. The cat was happy enough to spend an hour sleeping on my face and purring, so I did that until a bit after five, when I got up and double-checked my packing list and sat quietly for a bit so as not to wake Dude. At six I decided he could wake up anytime now, so I went and did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen a bit, so that when I come home to a mess in almost two weeks at least I’ll know it wasn’t like that the whole time. Then I dashed around and prepared the things I need him to bring with him when he comes. I did manage to cram the point and shoot camera into my gear, and my nightshirt which hadn’t been dry yet when I packed (I don’t use the clothes dryer if I can avoid it, and I figured twelve hours on hangers would be enough, and it was for almost everything but not that), but I did not bring any shoes besides my huge snow boots so we’ll just have to hope they suit for the whole visit. I did have to leave behind my dress-up-for-Thanksgiving outfit, but Dude can bring that, surely.
As I was assembling my goods I was worried about how heavy and unwieldy everything is, and Dude graciously offered to swap banjos with me, because mine weighs like 30 pounds and his weighs 5. It hadn’t occurred to him that I might like to do that, even though I’d asked him if we could another time when I was traveling. It wasn’t as pointed then, I think, because I was going by car and really it didn’t matter that much, but. Anyhow, he offered, so I accepted. So that made it much easier for me to get myself onto the train. The real miscalculation was that as I was loading my backpack, I kept putting in just one more book, just one more book, and it’s now like fifty pounds and I’m dying. Also I wore a bulky sweater and my coat doesn’t fit over it properly– the coat is an old one, and much too large, except it’s got tiny biceps because it was clearly graded up poorly from straight sizes (for real, I have freakishly tiny shoulders given my overall girth, and smallish arms, I never ever need a full bicep adjustment, and yet), and it’s too tight for me to move my arms with this sweater on, so that made it really difficult to get all my shit onto the train. But I did it! So. here I am.
Mom texted this morning that she’s not feeling any better, and worse, Dad woke up sick to his stomach. On the one hand, I hope it’s not contagious, but on the other hand– Dad’s sole serious health problems in his entire life that have required hospitalization were 1) a freak infection in his thumb possibly caused by a sewing needle, and 2) diverticu… litis, I think? Something super bad in the digestive system. He spent a week in the hospital that time and missed an entire visit of the grandkids. It was just awful. He was in good spirits about it; he was in the hospital where his mother and mother-in-law both died, actually (several years apart, it’s not the hospital’s fault, and they were both well into their nineties), and there’s a beautiful view of the Hudson, and he said he did a lot of thinking. But. Still!!!
Anyhow, so I’m torn as to whether i hope this is another idiosyncratic Dad thing or something like norovirus. God, norovirus would be terrible, because if Mom gets it and she’s already laid up, she’ll just be so miserable. But also. Dad. and his 75-year-old intestines.
Man i have really had an easy run of this aging parents thing so far and I’d really like this easy run to continue a bit longer. Dad’s grandpa made it to 101 in good health but he was a miserable cuss, Dad might be too nice to have that kind of luck. At least he’s not stubborn or too stoic– he doesn’t complain about much but he’s pretty sensible. (The other thing that’s nice is that two of my sisters live so close and the third one will be staying with her later this week. My coworker’s an only child and I’m like holy shit that’s a lot of pressure and he’s like, well, I didn’t know there was any other way, but I’m like believe me it’s fantastic having competent siblings. But I am unreasonably fortunate, overall, and especially in my family.)
Well, I’m on the train now, anyway, and have a few hours to read and write and look out the window. I love riding the train. This is going to sound hokey, but listen, I’m from New York State and have lived here all my life except a year in the UK and a year in Jersey City, but I’ve lived all over the state and I really like all of it. There’s a ton of beautiful scenery you can’t see or appreciate from the highway, and the train route goes right through it. Just now it’s a birch forest; a moment ago it was an expanse of snowy cornfields with some barns, an occasional windmill, and an old farmhouse or two. There’s a lot of field corn still standing, dry and yellow, and the hedgerows have some clinging foliage still, orange and yellow, with all the sumac still bright red-tipped. The snow is old and fading, revealing still-green grass underneath in places. Out here the roads are straight, the terrain gently rolling at most but largely flat, but as we go east it’ll start to get more vertical motion.
The thing I really like about the train tracks is that they’re behind everything. Things face the roads, and the tracks look into the backyards.
In a couple of hours, the train route picks up the Mohawk River, and runs along the bank for a long time, and the scenery there is just gorgeous. I’m trying to restrain myself from posting nonstop Instagram stories of how pretty it is, even dreary with early winter. I just saw a red-tailed hawk awkwardly flapping after a takeoff, and a massive squirrel nest in the fork of a bare tree. A little man-made pond for livestock, the back of a barnyard– and a sudden housing development of identical vinyl-sided condos. But now we’re back to a cornfield with deep muddy ruts where someone got that harvest in even in the terrible wet.
