Posted tagged ‘couchette’

“The train is a small world moving through a larger world.”

August 16, 2025

Today is a lovely day. It is pleasantly warm. The sun is bright and glistens through the leaves on the backyard oak trees. The house has a bit of night chill, and my den is still dark. The dogs are napping.

The other night I was sitting with Jack. I had given him treats, filled all his bowls and cleaned his litter. I was reading, and he was getting pats. That was when I noticed the mouse. It came from under the bed across from Jack and me and went right to the snack bowl. The mouse looked as healthy as any I’ve seen. Cats snacks can do that. Jack noticed, jumped down and checked under the bed. He didn’t catch the mouse. I need another have a heart trap.

I grew up as part of the wandering generation. The world seemed so safe back then. I could go anywhere without fear. I’d leave in the morning and, if I brought my lunch, I’d be gone all day. I had no route, no idea where I’d go. I just went. My mother didn’t worry. I’d ride and keep an eye out for adventures and for treasures like the golf balls I’d find across the street from the golf course. I’d sometimes have my lunch on a bench under the trees by the town hall.

I had favorite places. I am a lover of trains, and it started back then. I loved sitting and watching the trains at the station the next town over. I imagined the trips I’d take. I’d ride across country on a sleeper train. I’d eat in the dining car. I’d sit and watch the world from the observation car.

I have had some wonderful train rides. My dreams came true. In Ghana, I’d go first class from Accra to Kumasi. I’d sit in a compartment with big easy chairs and a door which slid open. Usually I was by myself. I’d always sit and look out the window. I never wanted to miss anything. I was on a sleeper train in Ghana which derailed. That woke me up and I had to get off the train. No one was hurt, and, for me, it was an adventure, a tale to be retold. I slept in a couchette in Finland. It had six bunks, but there were only three of us, my friend and I and a Finnish woman. She and I spoke by using the Finnish-English dictionary and pointing at words. I woke up at a train station in the Arctic Circle.

I still want to go across country in a sleeper train. It is at the top of my dream list. It always been there.

“The family is always the family but during vacations it is an extended family and that is exhausting.”

July 15, 2017

They’d be cornToday is another dreary day, cloudy and damp. Movie night is postponed as it may rain and the deck is still wet from the rain yesterday. Tomorrow night we’ll be watching Gunga Din and munching appies and assorted movie candy. We pause for bathroom breaks.

My old MAC is totally defunct. It needs a new fan, a new battery and a new hard drive. May it rest in peace.

The house next door is rented this week. A car is in the driveway, and I can hear their voices. They have a kid or two.

I went to the library this morning. Traffic was bumper to bumper even on the back roads. I dread the rest of my errands as I have to go on main roads. Beaches are empty on days like today so tourists take to the main roads to find something to do and souvenirs to buy.

We never came to the cape when I was a kid. If we were going away, we went north. My father’s friend had a place in Ogunquit, Maine. It was a tiny cottage in a row of side by side tiny cottages. There was a small kitchen with a table and chairs, and there were beds, lots of built-in beds. We never slept one to a bed as there were too many of us. In one room were two sets of three bunks. It was like a couchette on a train.

The Maine water was so cold only my father went swimming. He used to body surf. We’d go at low tide and try to catch the small swift fish in the tidal pools. We’d walk the dunes. I remember my horror at seeing naked people sunbathing among those dunes. Meals were mostly catch as catch can except for dinner which was usually hot dogs or burgers on the grill. They’d be corn on the cob and sometimes potato salad. The informality of the meals was part of the vacation.

When I reached my mid-teens, the last thing I wanted was a family vacation in close quarters with nothing for anyone my age to do. My father had to threaten me with dire consequences if I continued moaning and complaining. I used to pout with all the teenage angst I could muster.

The last family vacation I remember was the one to Niagara Falls. I was sixteen that summer. Woolworth’s was a summer away.