Resolution #3: Santiago de Compostela

This isn't a resolution as much as it's an online commitment, and it's definitely a commitment that will not happen this year.

But, next year, in 2013, I want to walk el camino to Santiago de Compostela and I will probably take the French route since it seems to be the most travelled and best marked.

For some reason, this pilgrimage appealed to me back in grade school and the possibility of following a 1,000-year tradition keeps coming back to me, time and time again.

When I was in Spain years back, I noticed the huge jubilee poster right outside my window (here) and I mentioned my desire to take the trip (here) in one of those tag meme things we do online. I downloaded "Spain ... On the Road Again" with Gwyneth Paltrow and Mario Batali, and there they are in Galicia talking about the walk. I red-boxed (new verb) "The Way" and it was this great hippie thing with good music and personality. I found a Facebook page and a forum. It's got to happen to me. I've reached that age when time doesn't feel open ended and good health can't be taken for granted. One month, northern Spain, with a backpack, a scallop shell, and a destination. 2013. God willing.

The Simons

These are the Simons: my great-grandfather Harry with his wife, Rebecca and their two children, Abe and Bernice (my grandmother).

Harry was born in Minsk and immigrated to the United States in 1904. He owned a variety of businesses in New York City's lower east side, a grocery store, a restaurant on Hudson Street and a junk store over at 84 New Chamber Street.

I've been told Rebecca was intelligent, had socialist leanings, and died during the Spanish influenza epidemic in 1918. Harry married twice more, but I have to think - looking at this photo - that he must have loved his first wife best.

Abe became an electrician, joined the union, and moved from Manhattan to the Bronx. His sister, Bernice, married young, travelled the world, and is profiled here.

The photographer's mark is that of L. Boressoff, an American photographer who advertised in The New York Call, a socialist newspaper that was in operation from 1908 to 1923. His studio, located at 355 Grand Street, was not that far from some of the places I visited here. I am due another trip to the big city. And thanks go to my friend Kevin who restored the photo and brought small tears to my eyes. I love this photo.

Catching Up

Well, it's been a long while since my last post. All of November, December, and January, and now most of February, gone silent. Why the delay? It all started with Eric's and my navigation class. Then it was the holidays and a freelance job that was a bit challenging, and, finally, an overwhelming sense of not knowing how or where to start blogging again.

But here I am (hello) and it seems appropriate that I start with the nav class. It was a great idea. We are interested in the subject matter, but in the effort to learn, we didn't handle the process well.

I chose the teacher. He's local, participated in our Coast Guard-approved safety class, and has more than ten years experience sailing the Caribbean. Perfect! I found the man's website, contacted him via e-mail, and we signed up.

Then all of our good intentions started to fall apart. The instructor wanted to delay starting the class (okay, fine, we have all winter). A third gentleman wanted to join the class (great, that means a reduction in fees). Next, the instructor announced he wanted to finish everything up during the month of November (which meant doubling up classes due to the holidays). The third wheel didn't want to attend classes on the weekend (which meant commuting out to the suburbs during rush hour). Eric and I, agreeable sorts that we are, compromised ourselves into failure. We made it to class; we took in the information, but we were so brain dead and tired as a result, that neither one of us picked up the textbook, our GPS, or a single chart until maybe one hour before the next class and by then we were worthless. The resentment was there and nothing made sense any more. We "participated" all the way up until the "final exam" and then dropped out rather than suffer through another "we just don't have time (whine) to make "whiskey" calculations due to (excuse #1), (excuse #2), and (excuse #3).

Then, that out of the way, it was Thanksgivings, my mother's birthday, Christmas shopping - always supplemented with personal shopping, several visiting pets for the holidays, and an obsession with ancestry.com, the subject of tomorrow's post.

So, today, I give you a photo of Thanksgiving at my sister's house. It was a great celebration this year with more family members than usual and a lot of good music. A little bit late to blog about Thanksgiving, but loads more fun than telling you about how we flunked out of "Sail the Seas" navigation school. :-) See you again tomorrow.

Freedom Square

April 20, 1932

Dearest Kat -

Guess you're saying - damn a woman like Lucile Nowlin anyway - has she got writers cramp. I answer no. I merely have spring fever plus complications like, blueness, disappointment and discouragement. And this last two weeks have been test weeks - and your letter was missent. The mail service to this town is zero minus.

Thanks for the poem - that was the one I wanted. As for the answer to the question - I know darned well I have to face life without him. I've known all along I couldn't ever have him - ever since I started going with him. But I'll have to break down and admit I could face the next forty or fifty years of my life with a great deal more joy and equanimity if I thought all the things I dream of could be true. But I have no allusions about that. And could I just enjoy being around him? I think so. Katherine, I'm honestly learning things about being in love. I know I've never even remotely been in love before. Ain't this a helluva note. I don't know how I'll survive this summer. He said once he wasn't going to write. (I'll change his mind.) But three days is as long as I can stand even when I see him downtown or when he comes for Donald & Doris at school, so what will I do for 2 months. He'll come to Mobile to see me before I leave. He'd better. I got the cutest picture Monday. I think it was one made for the annual last year. Anyways, it's plumb good. I just loves it.

Weep, Weep. the orchestra is playing "Auf Weidersen." I really like that piece.
We're going on a fish fry tomorrow night. I'm really glad its turned warm. Moonlight. The man I love, a campfire. Oh la la. They put it off twice last week for Beverly and me. I had to go to P.T.A. Thurs and Wed. he had to keep the kids.

There's no news. I'm afraid I'd get morbid if I wrote the things I've been thinking since last Friday. I'm really discouraged and tired. Wish the next six weeks would pass while I slept some night. We were supposed to get out May 27 but got 2 wks Xmas so we don't get out until June 3. Then I don't know how I'm going to N.Y. Mary Jane is going so I don't know where I'll meet her, Nash. or Memphis or Atlanta. We'll leave about June 15 or 20. I dread thoughts of school, but it's perferable to teaching. 'Less "somepin" happens I won't be alive to go anywhere. Gotta stop & go mail this.

Love, Cile.

April 8, 1932

Dearest Kat:

I really was all surrounded. Imagine keeping the secret so long. I don't see how they managed it. Get all the details and let me know. He would do something like that - but me - I'm so damned in love that I can't see straight. Honestly you've no idea to what a state I've been reduced. But to return to N. P. G. you're quite correct in assuming that in April 1930 he was making eloquent love to me and writing compromising letters to me. Will have to drag 'em out next weekend and read 'em. "Darling, I hope I can prove to you someday how much I love you" - or words to that effect. (I'll have to hand it to him. He had a most marvelous line.) He has, by marrying the girl he thinks he loves. He must to marry her. Saw in the Herald where Carolyn Hardison got married. I wish her happiness.

I have enjoyed seeing Beverly this week so much. He came for me Sunday and I saw him Mon. & Wed. Haven't got a date tonite. He went on a wild party Tues. nite and has got to sleep tonight. But I'm gosh awful funny. I wake up at 5:30 thinking of him. And all day, little brother does things that are characteristic.* Sometimes I want to slap him and some days I want to squeeze him hard. But Beverly sees that I go to all the things around here to go to - comes for me Sunday and is so darned thoughtful and sweet. I was never gladder to see anybody than I was him last Thursday nite when I was sick. If that's a sample of this summer I'd better reserve myself a padded cell up at Tuscaloosa. I'm going to have an aching void and nothing to fill it with - if I had heap much money and plenty of friends in Mobile to play around with it would be different. But possessing neither and no prospects I wonder what I'll come to.

Enough of me and Beverly - you're probably bored still - but when I eat, sleep, dream, and almost teach him I have time for little else. Lyman, etc are just nil. They don't register one peg.
I am quite crushed over the wedding. I thought I'd at least always have him to fall back on. Remember how you used to tell me you thought I loved him or came nearer loving him than anyone I'd ever gone with. Guess it's all over now even the shouting. What are they doing - is Nolan still going to school - and are he and Mary living together - or is he home - and given up pursuit of higher learning. (Helen Rowland says that girls go to college so they an come home with a knowledge of how to apply make-up and a higher education in the "noble" art of necking - wonder why boys go?) I want all the dirt on this affair. I've heard no gossip in years - not since I left school anyway. I've been much to busy giving the village gossips something to wag their tongues about to hear any of the gossip much less Tennessee gossip.

Gotta quit and make maps for the little dears. I cordially hate 'em right now.

Love, 'Cile

*Beverly's little brother Donald must be in the class of students she teaches.

April 4, 1932

Dearest Kat,

Remember the poem you sent me not long ago - I lost it and want you to send me another copy. It's the one J. gave you about recognizing your "life's love."

About Beverly - I can't write you all things - but if I could talk to you you might understand. (I'm afraid I understand too much.) He's forgotten to mention the "other girl" since January. If he's married he's a pretty unfaithful husband. If he's just engaged - like you I'd not feel sure of his love - tho' once he said he'd thought he didn't love her anymore but as soon as he saw her he knew he'd always love her. and he once told me that he'd love me for a lifetime, but I'd better not get out of sight!!! I take it he's one of the most fickle of the fickle males. Nevertheless, that doesn't help much the state of my feelings which are chaotic to say the least. Once when I first knew him (before he told me of his love affair) he remarked that I was an unbelievable person and I told him I believed nothing I heard and half I saw. He then asked me if I believed him and I swore I wouldn't - all laughing you know. He thanked me. But he's told me he loved me so many times I'm afraid it's beginning to make an impression. And wouldn't I love to believe it! I don't know where to start - or stop for that matter when I get started on him. He came up to see me last night (forgot to mention that I'm at home this week with the flu). Shore was glad to see him. I've missed him like hell and thought of little else for Wed. and Thurs.

The tornadoes haven't been too close to here. We've gotten rain - just lots of it. cold weather. a little wind but no storm.

My Easter was candy. I was so disgusted with Beverly I didn't know what to do. He's given me candy two or three times before and as I've never had flowers I wanted them terribly. I've had a terrible cold for two weeks and was feeling abdominable so Fri. nite he gave me my candy & said he wasn't sure he'd see me Sunday so I could have it then. I came home Sat. morn. crawled in bed and have been there every since. So see your letter came to cheer my lonely hours in bed. And believe me I've been plenty bored.

I crave me some new clothes like nobody's business but I'll need 'em too bad this summer to buy any now. And besides I need all the cash I can get to go to school. Hope to heck we continue to get paid - I can certainly use it. And may even have to borrow off 'en Mother. A little. But Frances isn't going to have much and I know I'm not quite as extravagant as she is, so maybe I'll manage.

Am up and dressed today for the first time. Just a little while this afternoon. Am weak - can hardly move a chair. First time I've been outside since a week ago. Unless I improve rapidly don't see how I can stand the kids Monday.
Guess I'll sign off and let you try to make heads or tails of the mess.

Lots of love, 'Cile

Sunday

This got mislaid and did I have seven varieties of kittens. I was afraid Daddy would read it and I couldn't remember exactly how much or how little I said. But I repeat: if you can make a thing of this you're a regular Sherlock Holmes.

Am parked waiting to see if Beverly is going to come for me. I have an idea he's going to make me ride the train just because I haven't in five weeks. He's mean enough to and then laugh about it and tease me. Ma mere says I should lie down and I guess she's right. Nevertheless, I don't want to.

If I wrote anymore it would be Beverly so I won't bore you. Honestly don't see why you don't tell me "fer cryin' out loud in church" to shut up about him. Must bore you to tears. He's hoping you have a big time from now until school is out.

Signing off a second time.

Love, 'Cile.

P.S. Got back up here and hear that when I wasn't here Mon. and Tues. (that) the town said I had eloped with Beverly. Don't know how they accounted for me being gone and him here.