“Dad, can we go fishing?” Well, of course we can! When one of your college-aged children, whom you now rarely see, asks that, you make it happen. So, off we went for a Labor Day weekend trip to northern New Hampshire, to the same spot where I’ve taught fly fishing to Mrs. T. and all
We are wrapping up a family vacation week in Ireland, having cycled in Connemara, a very rural area in the west, and after bookending the trip with Dublin on each side. Having gone to parochial schools for 10 years, I had many priests and nuns from Ireland as teachers and still remember well how they
A friend of mine owns apartments and rents them to college students. Over the decades, he has assembled a large set of properties. He is the manager, too, and has his own team do all the maintenance and repairs. “It’s crazy,” he said. “I can’t find a decent plumber.” He said that he has to
Mrs. T. and I are in NYC for a long weekend. We are celebrating our wedding anniversary. The Big 2-5! I have been in charge of lodging, travel and dinners. I emptied all points balances. Mrs. T. plans our days, which has meant museums and a play. It has been a joyful trip, including a
We are empty nesters for a few weeks and for the first time ever. “Let’s go fly fishing,” Mrs. T. said. “I’d love to learn.” “Really?” So, many moons ago, we booked a long weekend up at northern New Hampshire, at the spot where I taught each of our children to fish. A rite of
Summer is a time for vapidly empty weekend schedules, oppressive humidity and asphalt streets that almost steam with resignation from heat that is almost cruel. Today was that kind of day. I found myself with nothing to do this Saturday, with the family out of town, enjoying internships, camp and assorted travels here and there.