The announcement .....

Getting right to the point.

Our home of twelve years, in the town in which we have lived since the Eagles released Heartache Tonight, is going on the market.  And we are, for the time being, replacing it with a 40 foot motorhome.  This is something we've researched and thought about for a quite a while as you already know, if you've followed this blog.

The Beast

The current plan is to do a bit of traveling (nothing drastic) and figure out where we want to settle next... because ... to put it simply ... we can.  Our children, all successfully launched years ago, are of varying opinions of this plan.   But hey, we're still around.  I mean, nobody has died or moved to Fiji.  And we very well might find our next home right back in our current zip code.  Our manufacturing business of 25 years is firmly rooted here.  Husband (in his current status of semi-to-mostly retired) stays connected as needed on consulting and advisory basis and therefore, we figure we need to stay planted within a two to three hour radius.  So ..... who knows?   Old age is approaching, the years are ticking down and, at the risk of you all getting sick of hearing my favorite motto, ..... if you never try, you never know.  My entire life, except for two years at college, has all happened within 20 miles of where I grew up.  Sometimes a soul needs a change of scenery.

There are, of course, plenty of unknowns:

Will our house sell?
Where will we go?  
Will I ever gain the confidence to drive a bus the size of Detroit?
Will our marriage survive shrinking to 350 square feet?
Will I learn to use a convection oven?
Will the GOP ever regain the White House?
Etc.

This is downsizing with a vengeance.  The pool table and two bikes are sold.  Miscellaneous other stuff .... gone.  Goodwill is scoring big time with our discards.   My wardrobe will go from occupying most of a large walk-in closet and dresser to about four feet of closet space and three drawers.  And, sadly, Craigslist produced some buyers for our dear little trailer, who promised to love it as we did.

We have spent our forty years of marital life living according to The Rules.  We have literally defined Establishment.  We have reared four fabulous society-contributing kids (our greatest legacy); built, bought, and sold several homes; tamed acreage; started and ran a successful business providing many jobs and livelihoods; paid enough taxes to support every government worker and program on the continent (it seems); and contributed to the spiritual and physical welfare of generations.   So although certain responsibilities and obligations never cease, as soon as life's details are tied up, handed off, and/or stored away, we will take a brief hiatus to see what this land has to offer.  Together.  Husband and me ....  and the motorcycle.... somehow .... 'cause it's NOT going on Craigslist.

And you -- 'cause you're all invited along, via this blog.

The blog gets a new name

Soled Out started out five years ago as a running blog.  A running blog that literally "ran" its course ending in my retirement from the sport over a year ago.  So it's time the blog is renamed.

After much thought and a lively list of suggestions from Favorite Daughter who obsesses easily when given mental projects such as this ..... (It's an idiosyncrasy she inherited, I'm afraid, from me.  I have been known to spend days naming a pet.).... I've chosen "Type B".  Short and simple.  It's my initial, my personality, and my life.  Not sure about blood type and don't even think about bra sizes.  Not going there.

Oh, and btw ..... when trying to register a new blog name with Blogspot, I found that there are a LOT of perfectly good blog names already taken, but not used ..... forcing the rest of us to insert hyphens and other whatnot into our URLs.  A lot of people register their blog name and then never write a post and some blogs have sat completely empty for years!  Kind of rude when you think about it.  Therefore, as they say ..... Fish or cut bait.

The new web address will soon be.....
type-b-blog.blogspot.com

That's all.  

Niagara - Canadian style .... and Laundry Day with the Amish, Part 2

Following this post.

We diverted up to Niagara Falls, armed with the popular advice to view it from the Canada side.  The reason, which we quickly discovered, is because you can see it better.  Canada faces it.  Hotels.com happily assisted us in booking a reasonably priced room in a hotel overlooking the roaring falls.   (Btw, we learned that Hotels.com, Expedia, Priceline, etc. are all owned by the same company.  "They're all the same", said one chatty hotel clerk.)  When we checked in, the cute little gal at the desk offered us a free upgrade.

"We're not very busy." she said.  Then upon learning where we live, she said she used to live in Oregon and named a small town within minutes of home.  With that, she then offered us another upgrade for a small added cost.  17th floor.  Overlooking the falls.   Um, okay.......

BAM!  The view from our room:

There are actually four falls, two are too small to remember their names, then American Falls on the left, and Horseshoe Falls on the right.

 Thus we spent two days and nights gawking from our window, just below the Vanderbilts, or whomever happened to be hobnobbing in the penthouse suites above.  There were even fireworks the second night .... the last of the season before they turn off the lights, shut off the falls, and everyone migrates to Florida ..... kidding.

That's me, in the light-colored top, waving, and Dear Friends are three windows to the right.

Niagara Falls (the city) is interesting.  In front and on both sides of us was scenery beyond description.  Behind us, was this:

And this .....

Hmmmmmm.

And we were serenaded by this .... for hours ...... but he was actually pretty good.

But redeeming features of this city, were a just a head-turn away:

We ate dinner in that tall Space Needle look-alike.  The view, as you can imagine, was spectacular.

But back to the falls.

These boats were constantly toting about loads of tourists, cowering under rain gear.  

As we walked the half mile, or so, along the shore from our hotel to the top of the falls, we went from comfortably dry weather to chilly drizzle.  The mist threatened to inflict some serious frizz, so I was glad I had a hood with a draw-string.

Husband and Dear Friends

Now from noisy glitz to quiet simplicity....

Pennsylvania was not on our route, but we managed to find some Amish communities in Ohio.

We stayed in a lovely historic hotel in Millersburg.

The lobby

The next day we found quilts, antiques, pie .... and I found puppies.

Take a moment ....

We drove around seeing neat-as-a-pin Amish farms.  It was a Monday, which we all decided MUST be Laundry Day because everyone had their clothes drying outside.

There was a tiny town called Charm.   (I'm not kidding.)

Interesting fact:  Amish men grow a beard (no mustache) after they are married.  

I visited a store where they don't sell their crafts to tourists, but where they shop for themselves.

The men's department.  Plain and dark.

Fabric.  Solid colors only.  

I thought these little boys' overalls were adorable.  

I honor any religion that worships God and is respectful to others.  I don't know much about their theology, but I respect their simple, modest, hard-working lifestyle.  Should the "Grid" fail ..... and we lose power, the web, and fuel sources, and find ourselves panicked and disconnected from our lives of convenience -- we should all (somehow) high-tail to the Amish where I can imagine them rolling their eyes at us, and then inviting us in for a warm home-cooked meal.