Visit to Ellen

February 20 - 24, 2014

Dear Bob and Robert,

To visit Ellen, Spence and I flew out of Erie. My backpack wouldn't stow in the small jet bins. The stewardess had me take things out of a pocket then shoved the bag under a seat. We flew through clouds to Detroit. Half the time I read A Clue for the Puzzle Lady; the other half I held a discomfort bag. Snow in Detroit made us circle while crews cleared a runway. Once landed, the plane parked and crept in a long queue of planes and plows. Taxing took longer than the flight. Spence lugged carry-ons while I fast stepped through the airport to stretch my restless legs. I ate the squashed salmon sandwich, a consequence of coat pocket traveling, and spotted athletic men by our gate. The fit fellas had pre-draft interviews with head coach of the Super Bowl winning Seahawks, Pete Carroll–also on our plane. We flew above the clouds–no barf bag needed–to Indianapolis. Riding down a tall escalator, I waved at Chris leaning against a pillar below us. He nodded. Ellen waited at the curb in her Prius. Her hug was worth the bumpy, squished, long-wait trip.

Love,

Janet

Dear Walker Family,

Ellen has a cozy two story house four miles from her Purdue office. First floor rooms make a circle which Trixie uses to spy on folks in yoga poses. Comfy sofa and love seat dominate the living room. Electric piano, guitars, and bass line the far wall, Ellen's in-progress crochet scarf lays on an end table, and a wide screen play station, used for Netflix and instructional music DVD's, backs the kitchen. Chris moves efficiently among modern appliances and cupboards surrounding a food prep table. A hutch and long table furnish the dining area. Spence clicks computer keys at the end of that table to let Trixie on and off the screened porch. Her litter box room, a.k.a. furnace room, and a bathroom are off the hall to a double garage. Plush carpet covers stairs and the second floor. The guest bathroom has a high vanity–toothpaste spitting comfy. Washer and dryer hum in a cupboard. In front are computer room and a guest room where Trixie naps under the comforter. The master bedroom with whirlpool bath overlooks a nearby pond.

Love,

Janet

Dear Jyungmin,

Because Ellen had to work and because Chris wanted to learn to make healthy crust, Friday was pie day. First he had to drive Spence and me through West Laffette, over the flooded Wabash River, and around Lafayette to get supplies. Spence bought groceries; Chris and I found a sifter, rolling pin, pie pans, and pie crust shield in KitchenArt. On the way back, we rescued Ellen's empty recycling bin which had blown two blocks down her street. Indiana is windy! I half demonstrated, half coached for apple pie baking. Chris never peeled apples but helped me prepare thin, skinless slices. He sifted flour. I added olive oil. He rolled–stopping to turn the crust and loosen the wax paper. Success. He flipped the first crust into the center of the pan; I added the apple mixture. Flipping the top crust wasn't as accurate. We cut off the overlapped edge to cover naked parts on the other side. Our second pie, a chicken pot pie, went smoother. We cooked the filling together. Chris made the crust on his own. We ate the tasty meat pie for dinner.

Love,

Janet

Dear Susan,

We saw the St. Petersburg Philharmonic Orchestra. Ellen drove Spence, Chris and I to her parking lot then walked us past the colorful lights of the Engineering Fountain which is close to her building (photo). In Elliott Hall we climbed four long flights to the balcony then descended to the front row. Since us girls made the guys change out of their blue jeans, they pointed out everyone in the hall wearing jeans–less than 1%. The Russian musicians started with whimsical and thunderous excerpts of Korsakov's “Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh.” Next came the familiar Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto in B flat Minor with soloist Sergei Prokofiev. We encored him. Despite the campus trek and stair climbing, I stood through the intermission to stretch my restless legs. Not enough. I pushed my boots against the cement balcony wall to discreetly exercise through Tchaikovsky's Symphony No. 4 in F minor. At the end, I jumped up–to stretch and to applaud. We got another encore. A perfect concert–I only wish they'd played Rachmaninoff.

Love,

Janet

Dear Lori and Eliza,

Ellen was concerned Spence and I would upset Trixie, her cat that doesn't tolerate strangers. Well, she is a cat. But Trixie adjusted. She played wiggling snake with me and explored Spence's duffel bag. He found the bag upside down due to her leaping exit. When Ellen and Chris slept in Saturday, Trixie played hostess. She kept Spence busy opening and closing the porch door for her. He chatted with her like he does with George and Emma. Instead of answering with a low, loud merrow, she used her high pitch, quiet mew. She took breaks to monitor yoga. From the hall, she glared wide eyed at my forward bend. She circled to sit under an end table for simple twists. Back through the kitchen to the other side of the living room, she observed bridge pose. She hovered till Spence and I sat down to breakfast. Then she went upstairs for her morning nap. Usually that's in the guest room. She switched to the game room when we arrived. On our fourth day, however, she snuggled under the comforter on the bed despite stranger aroma on the sheets.

Love,

Janet

Dear Nancy,

Ellen gave us a tour of buildings and statues on Purdue's campus. I wanted to see her office and the John Purdue statue. They were at opposite ends. We started at her parking garage, walked past the Engineering Fountain, past cement acorns with a live squirrel, then down a wide sidewalk to Hampton Hall which houses the Schools of Civil Engineering and Health Sciences. It's red brick like all other campus buildings. Her second floor office was small but efficient; her lab was chilly. We saw many female and two male students inside the Neil Armstrong building. An “Introduce a Girl to Engineering Day” sign explained the ratio. As we zigzagged across campus, I craned my neck to look at the clock tower and tall buildings. I wished for a helicopter tour. After walking past the giant pencil, we found John Purdue. Ellen led us back on a different route through the Student Union which had comfy chairs in a large lounge and a model of the university–next best to an aerial view. Back at Ellen's house, I put the hot pad on my aching knees.

Love,

Janet

Dear Pat,

Ellen started work at Purdue University in August. Despite winter storms playing havoc with air travel, Spence and I scheduled a February trip because Purdue theater was performing Pride and Prejudice. Ellen and I had front row seats for our girls' night out. She joked, “Do you think someone will stand in front of you so you can't see?” I laughed, but that did happen. Actors stood in the way of other actors. I didn't mind because we saw the texture in their costumes and details iof their adornments. Marcus Goodwin had adapted the novel to the play. Though he didn't include any dinner scenes, his script followed the Jane's story closely, no that-isn't-in-the-book moments. All portrayals were pleasing, but Mr. Bennet's cynical humor and Mr. Collins' absurdities (dancing, bowing, simpering) got the most laughs. Pantomime was also effective–playing an air piano or bouncing on chairs to simulate riding in a coach. Part of the charm was actors stepping out of the scene to address the audience in narration like Jane does in her novel.

Love,

Janet

Dear Reid and Claire,

While visiting Ellen and Chris, he drove us to my high school friend Marlee and her husband Norm's house for Sunday lunch. She'd swept the front steps and a space for our car at the bottom of the steps. But we didn't know if Mar's sister Ann had arrived so Chris pushed the power boost button and inched Ellen's Prius to the top of the steep drive with minimal skidding. Along with broccoli, Mar prepared thick salmon. Ann made cranberry topped sweet potatoes, Norm baked corn bread, and Chris and I brought an apple pie. Mar and I caught up on family while I helped toss the salad and carry food to the table. Maggie, Ann's dog, got to lick the salmon platter in honor of her tenth birthday. Marlee had taken cuttings from thirty varieties of choleas in her yard and was growing new plants under lights turning her basement into a garden center. Norm talked about his upcoming 50th high school reunion in the fall (two more years for Mar and me) and took nearly as many photos as I did. While we talked, a wide screen on Norm's desk gave a slide show.

Love,

Janet

Dear Millie,

Spence and I spent five days with Ellen and Chris in West Lafayette, IN. Part of the fun, with snow, cold, and floods, was relaxing in her cozy house. I introduced Ellen to Words with Friends, an Internet scrabble game. She played with me,Spencer Charles (in Columbus), and herself. Chris had a video program that taught songs. He practiced a variety of songs on his electric bass. I tried the electric guitar. I learned one riff and moved to a second before the computer program repeated, “Let's try that again.” I never got a whole song. Spence installed Linux on Ellen's kitchen computer. He worked on his own computer, though he's supposed to be retired, and read about the Middle Ages. Chris read on line comics and cook books, I read Parnell Hall's A Clue for the Puzzle Lady, Ellen read health science extracts. She crocheted a scarf while I embroidered an angel for a quilt block. Ellen also showed us “Too Cute” kitten videos on Netflix. Spence said he was homesick for George, Emma, and his tractor so closed his eyes and slept.

Love,

Janet

Dear Cory,

Mid afternoon Monday, Ellen headed for her office at Purdue and Chris drove us to the Indianapolis airport. Weather was clear, but the plane was late, slow boarding, and sat on the runway before taking off. The setting sun created red circles on clouds. A shadow of our plane flew in the middle of one. By the time we got to Detroit, a half hour late, the sun had set. Lights outlined city streets. The walk through Detroit airport was a long as could be. The waiting area and plane to Erie were squished. Erie was bitter cold. We listened to Erie jazz and drove through mini blizzards to Milledgeville. George and Emma met us at the door. They were calm and welcoming rather than the usual cranky and frazzled. Tammy had brushed them, kept their litter boxes clean, and fed the birds for George's entertainment despite the feeder slipping on the window and Tammy slipping on the icy deck. She even had the house warm for my arthritis–82° in the bedroom, 91° in the great room, and hotter in the loft. Spence could sleep without getting up to stoke the fire.

Love,

Janet