Off To The Bank For Something Irresistible

   About a month ago, Doralyn and I were watching T.V. when a commercial for a bank came on. In the commercial a young man with a passion for guitars suddenly comes across the guitar of his dreams, in a pawnshop.
   He must have this guitar but in order to purchase it he must rush off to the nearest branch of this particular bank in order to take advantage of their expanded hours and withdraw the large sum of money required. In a world awash with credit cards, atm's, and debit machines it's a little difficult to imagine this scenario but I did mention it was a commercial, didn't I?
   Anyway, it prompted Doralyn to ask me the question, "So, Sweetie, what could you find that would be irresistible?"
   This gave me much pause for thought, kind of like those, "What would you do if you won ten million dollars?" kinds of things.
   The difference here was that I wasn't being asked how I thought my life might totally be changed, I was being asked what few singular items might have a profound and positive effect on it.
   For the most part, the things that began to pop into my head were all small (yet significant) things.
   Amazingly, a perfect example of something I might find irresistible popped up on the internet either the same day or the very next day after Doralyn asked me that question.

I discovered that the handwritten, rough draft of the lyrics for "Judgement of the Moon and Stars (Ludwig's Tune)", one of my favourite songs by one of my favourite singer/songwriters, Joni Mitchell, had come up for auction. This is a perfect example of the type of thing I'd have rushed off to the bank in order to purchase. A few pages of scribbled lyrics, torn from a notebook. What they represented, though, was almost priceless---a singular view into the thought process of one of the greatest songwriters of all time. On top of which, pieces of paper Joni actually touched! And, likely, agonized over!

   I have no idea what these items actually sold for. I am now left wondering what I might have paid for them had I accidentally come across them somewhere. I'm thinking a few hundred dollars, easily. Maybe more.
   

Leonard and Joni

It would be the same if I ran across anything personally connected to Leonard Cohen, likely. More than any other artists, Joni and Leonard struck more than musical chords with me when I was young and growing up. My parents at the time were more than a little concerned with my (what they deemed morbid) interest in Cohen and his music, assuming that I must be deeply depressed and, likely, suicidal. Actually, Leonard was having more the opposite effect---it seemed that by hooking on to whatever pathos Leonard was involved in I was able to indulge in my own little catharsis, a reprieve from teen angst.
   I was at the library quite a few years ago and took out a book of poetry by Irving Layton. In leafing through it, I discovered that it was actually a copy which had been signed by Layton himself. I thought this was an incredible find! Not only did I have the book, I had a little bit of Layton himself. Honestly, I was tempted to just keep the book, such was its increased value, in my eyes.
   So they are not big things I'd find irresistible---they're the increasingly simpler, more personal things connected principally to people from whom I took guidance as a younger boy/man.

Howe and Richard

   While I'm mentioning singers and songwriters I should also mention that I am not immune to sports figures as well. And once again, it would not have to be the game-winning puck or the all-time home run ball I'd be interested in. I would be just as happy having something Gordie Howe or Rocket Richard carried with them or perhaps wore or maybe even used once in a game. It would be the distillation of whatever might still be left of their ancient spirits embedded in whatever item it was that would intrigue me, more than anything.
   I'm sure that if I sat here and mused for awhile I could think of a few other things which might cause me to run off to the bank. Can you? In my particular case, though, there would need to be money in the bank...    

Coffee: Part Two

   About a year and a half ago, I wrote a post called "Coffee", in which I waxed eloquently about my relationship with java. I actually just re-read it and I couldn't believe how much I actually had to say about the subject. If you really want to see what I mean by that, you can go here and take a gander.
   Well, my relationship with coffee has changed in the last three weeks.
   About three weeks ago, I went about eliminating as much of the extraneous sugar as I could from my diet. This, unfortunately, included the spoon-and-a-half to two spoonfuls of sugar and/or honey I regularly took in my coffee.
   I have also avoided the use of any kind of sweetener---in the past, they've either caused more problems than the sugar has or they've been extremely expensive. All I have in my coffee now is a little cream or milk.
   This all has changed the coffee experience for me greatly. Before the change, I looked forward to and relished the idea of sitting down to a cup. It had the power to at least briefly transport me away from whatever I was doing or, if not, at least accompany me on the journey as a trusted friend. Nowadays...not so.
   These days, this is what my face does when I take my first sip of coffee:

This is EXACTLY what my face looks
like when I drink sugar-less coffee.

   Eventually, the shock of sugar-less coffee wears off and I can finish the cup with a more-or-less normal look on my face. It does take a fair amount of willpower, though.
   So this begs the question---is it the coffee I used to enjoy? Or just the sugar?
   In spite of the fact that I'm not enjoying the coffee as much anymore, I'm still drinking about as much as I used to. When I look at all the sugarless drink options out there, none inspire me. When you have loved the best....
   Anyway, I do ask myself why I continue to drink it if I barely enjoy it anymore? Could be that I enjoy the companionship, as weird as that might sound. It might even be that simply having a mug at my side somehow completes me, regardless of the nature of its contents. Perhaps it's the warmth on my hands, who really knows? There is something almost visceral about reaching for a cup or mug without even needing to look at it because you always leave it the same distance from your arm and the handle is always turned to the exact point you need it to be at in order to grasp your coffee seamlessly and effortlessly, without thinking about it.
   As I write this, I have about two more sips left of this evening's coffee. It's cold now but not enough's left to bother heating it up. I'm drinking it out of my "mr. almost perfect" coffee mug and things almost are perfect.
   Except for the coffee...

   
   
   

My Apologies

   Last week, as you may be aware, I experimented a touch with the look and feel of Neanderings. At the time, I also asked for feedback as to how people felt about the changes.
   Well, more or less resoundingly, people hated the difference it made to the blog. It apparently caused much confusion and made navigating the site quite difficult.
   Now, from my end of things, it created a whole new blogging experience. It didn't particularly change the creative process but it did make a huge difference in the amount of page views the blog received. 
   The first day of the change, the blog racked up over three hundred page views. Generally, if I get thirty page views a day I'm pretty happy. Three hundred made me ecstatic.
   Here is a pic of what the blog looked like, on my laptop, when I made the change:

    
   Each of those pics represented a blog post and if you clicked on the pic then you automatically opened up the post. Scrolling down gave you access to any post I'd ever written, right back to Neanderings' inception. For me, it was almost hypnotic, jumping about from post to post so easily!
   I can only imagine that some readers out there were seeing more or less the same thing I was and were gallivanting all over the place, investigating. This, then, might account for all the extra page views. Sadly though, not everyone had this experience.
   The "nays" have accumulated over the past week, unanimously, and I have found myself torn between becoming a "page view whore" and wanting to stay true to readers who have always been faithful.
   What it boils down to is this---I started this blog simply because I had the urge to write. At some point, I realized that there were people out there who, for the most part, enjoyed and looked forward to new blog posts. For about a week, a lot of those same people were no longer enjoying the process. As much as I was amazed and enjoying the sudden increased viewership, the idea that those people were suddenly less enchanted slowly became intolerable. For this reason, I have gone back to the old Neanderings. And it kind of feels a little bit like coming home... 
 

Our Trip To Eldon House

   I have lived in London for fifty years now. For most of that time I have been aware of the existence of Eldon House here in the city but had never visited it.

The rear of Eldon House.

   Eldon House is the oldest residence still in existence in the City of London. It was the home of the Harris family and has been around since the 1830's. The family donated the house and almost all of its belongings to the city in the early sixties. It is now a museum and, obviously, open for tours.
   Doralyn and I had been talking about heading downtown this aft, just to look around and spend some time together and we ended up at Eldon House.

Beautiful, quaint gazebo. It stands
at the back of the grounds, near
the edge sloping down to the river.
Branches rise up out of the forest
in behind, providing all the greenery
you see here, likely many decades'
worth.

   We decided to wait until one of the tours started so we walked the grounds for a little bit and took some pics. While we were doing this, a tour actually started but we were able to catch up to it.
   Ninety per cent of what we saw today was all original Harris family belongings. Any time that the museum has found it necessary to make alterations, they have obtained the family's permission first.
   It was hard to walk through the many rooms and not feel as though you were absorbing history.

World travels.

   The Harris' were a family of great wealth and also were the social hub of London back in the day. The opulence is everywhere. Fine dining and big-game hunting. Artifacts from foreign countries. Silver- and ivory-inlaid furniture pieces. Servants' quarters. You name it, really.
   Our tour grind, Brenda, did a wonderful job of taking us around and giving us a history and an account of each room ( there were many), nook and cranny.
   

The main dining room. The table
setting are changed regularly, to
reflect the different seasons.

An elderly woman was there as part of our small tour group and at one point she declared that her aunt had once been a servant there. Brenda was then able to sit down, go through an old photo album and find a picture of the aunt from the 1930's! Awesome stuff!
   It was difficult to imagine life back in the mid-nineteenth century, Certainly there was more attention to class and manners than these days. The servants' quarters were minuscule compared to the size of the family rooms. Brenda told us a tale of one overnight guest who had the audacity to appear for breakfast in his slippers and then dinner later on in a narrow tie, as opposed to a bow tie. Apparently the gentleman was never asked back!

   We know of tales like this because the Harris women kept almost daily diaries. Brenda explained to us that she is able to take any date on the calendar and find a corresponding diary entry from a variety of different years. So complete were the Harris diaries that they have been published and can be found in the local library! What a window to the past!
   As I mentioned before, Doralyn and I both remarked how easy it was to feel as though you were actually soaking in the history of the place---you could almost sense the spirits at play there. I have also heard that there are "real" spirits which inhabit the building---the ghost of an ancient suitor of one of the Harris girls, a suitor who mysteriously drowned in the Thames below the house has occasionally been spotted by the museum staff. Not that I believe in that kind of thing...
   

The library room.

At the end of our visit there, we discovered that the museum has plans to run a special tour of both the attic and the basement of the old house. Apparently both areas are crammed with artifacts and Doralyn and I have made plans to return for that!
   Also at the end of the visit, we ended up talking to Brenda about how the museum was staffed, how long she'd been there and that kind of thing. At that point, she mentioned that they were shortly going to be hiring three more tour guides. At this point, Doralyn did everything but put in an application for me! For some reason she seems to think I would be perfect for this kind of job and I can only surmise that she's aware of my love for history. Well....I guess we'll see!
       

Changes?

   Welcome to the new "Neanderings"!
   Well...it  might only be new for a short time, depending on the reaction I get from people. Or don't get.
   The change is a pretty striking one---readers are suddenly faced with a page full of a rather mind-boggling display of pics from past posts which, when clicked on, will take you to that post. A quick and easy scroll down gets you right back to the very beginning of things.
   So let me know what you think! Is it too distracting? Does anyone miss me standing on a rock by the ocean??
   Let me know!