I was invited to New Haven, Connecticut for a memorial celebration for one of my clients, Bev. Initially unsure if I could or should go, Rich and I eventually decided to make the drive east to attend. (I would attend the celebration, and Rich—who wasn’t acquainted with my client—would spend some time exploring the area if it was a nice day, and catching up on some reading.)
The drive along I-84 in the morning was surprisingly free of traffic, and Route 34 between Sandy Hook and New Haven was particularly picturesque and pleasant—at least until we passed through the small town of Derby, which is undergoing some major road construction and currently “features” some crazy traffic patterns (and volume) as a result.
We arrived in New Haven with over an hour to spare, so we searched for and documented two benchmarks near the hotel where the celebration was to be held. A benchmark hunt or two always adds an extra dimension of fun to any adventure or outing, and I really couldn’t resist!
Aside: we laughed pretty hard at the mention of
BUTTMENTSin the US Power Squadron’s 1985 recovery note for the mark at Union Station. (And as a separate aside, true to Power Squadron form, they apparently weren’t even reporting on the correct mark, because there are no “buttments” or bridges anywhere nearby.)
The celebration itself was quite spectacular. It was filled with music of all kinds, including clarinet, vocalists, and a ukelele band. Several people who had been close to Bev and greatly influenced by her spoke about her impact on their lives in some touching speeches. And then, of course, we all enjoyed some wine, champagne, and light refreshments (my favorite kinds of goodies: cheese and crackers, olives, fruit, cookies, and dried-cherry-studded brownies).
Meanwhile, Rich read for a while in the hotel lobby, and took a walk to the IKEA store next door. Mid-afternoon on a Saturday is probably not the best time to visit IKEA, and came away pretty disappointed. The store was too insanely busy to do any real shopping, and even the cafe was a disappointment (a “Swedish meatball sundae” was one of the few items available, and they were even out of the lingonberry sauce for it). He tried the sundae anyway, and reported that it was OK, but nothing special.
Our drive home was as hectic as you would assume 5:00pm on I-84 in Connecticut would be. But we took our time, and by the time we were traveling through New York the traffic was greatly reduced. By the time we reached Pennsylvania, there were only a few other vehicles on the road. I jokingly asked Rich if he would like to complete his day with a snack of Stouffer’s Swedish meatballs, which we always have in the freezer!