Toto, I don't think we're in Lincolnland any more.

Uh oh! Something suggests that this isn't Lincolnland any more!  What are the clues?  Well, there's spruce and arbor vitae trees every where. There's mountains and unless TPP is mistaken, that's snow up there! Dang! If the F1 reads this, the temperature right now is probably 30 F lower than in Lincolnland. OK, another sip of that cocktail has helped clear TPP's analytical skills. The trusty blogging laptop further suggests that not only is this not the upper midwest, but it's a lot further west and a lot higher in altitude. Actually some friends have abducted us to a place north of the border and landed us in a humble place called Whistler, British Columbia. So more to come as the Phactors discover this what this particular place has to offer this time of year. So far there's a lot of spandex and nylon, so how the Phactors will fit in remains quite unknown. Oh, TPP has been informed that this is something called a vacation, and this comes without any explanation of its relevance to a retired academic.

Bourbon bar in Kentucky

OK, the Phactor must be on vacation because apparently he is in a bourbon bar in Lexington Kentucky.  How very nice although a bit C&W for his taste.  The Phactor has never really gotten along with horses, and Mrs. Phactor can verify this.  So perhaps it is a good thing in terms of being in KY that the Phactor gets along with bourbon very well.  In keeping with my formal policy of never endorsing any product that does not in some small way grease my palm, no particular brands will be mentioned.  And in any case, a considerable thirst compelled the Phactor to drink a tall, cold Kentucky bourbon barrel ale, which has the taste of a bourbon boiler maker.  It actually was quite good, very smooth, but not something you would want to responsibly drink more than one of.  Wow!  What a feeling!  Is it the bourbon beer, the fatigue, or academic decompression?  Immersion in scholarly projects is good for getting things done, but then you almost get light headed when you are peeled away from them for some R&R.  Sort of a rapid decompression and it goes to your head.  Hopefully, and this is my only worry, the Phactor will not loose track of where he was in the process and have to spend valuable time back tracking.  But now things get complicated.  Here's how it stacks up.  Vacation, then back for a week, and off to the botanical meetings, but still have to prepare the talk, and better look up the abstract and see what was promised.  And then finally about mid-July, it will be time to get back to the book project and get it DONE, because the fall semester will be looming.

Postcard home - Pilgrim Tower

One of the great things about traveling is seeing monuments to historic events, and with immigration a national issue, how fitting to see the first illegal immigrants to North America, the Pilgrims, commemorated by a grim looking Gothic tower towering over Provincetown MA. You can climb the Escher-like interior, up, and up, and up, and up, and so on, to the top and have a look around, and Provincetown does look pretty good from on high, much better than down on the tawdry touristy streets below. And what better way to commemorate our history than copying someone else's architecture. Fortunately the accompanying museum was pretty interesting so you don't feel "rooked" for having paid the entry fee. Having a great time, wish you all were here. More later. Ta.

Too busy to blog

Yes, when in high vacation mode the Phactor has too little time to blog, much. Some of the reasons include: steamed mussels, boiled lobster, fried clams, lobster omelet, scallops, and, well you get the idea, because when you live in the great Midwest for very long, unless you were born and bred in the great Midwest, you build up a seafood deficit that takes quite a bit of effort to erase. And of course sun, sand, and seawater can add greatly to your appetite, and thirst. So you take advantage of the local catch, and brews, that didn’t have to walk, hitch a ride, or fly on a plane, or worse yet, be frozen and thawed, to get to the great Midwest. So the whole point is to eat fresh seafood until it comes out your ears. So dear readers do forgive my limited sharing while my R&R continues. It's a big deficit.