Archive for ◊ 2006 ◊

24 Dec 2006 At Large… in Cuba!
Author: Gail |  Category: House of Fielding, Travel  | 7 Comments

have Kermit, will travel

I booked this flight only a week ago then spent the last week in Pennsylvania and New York, so I’ve been researching (read: cramming) Cuba since yesterday. Because only crazy people show up in Cuba on Christmas Eve without a reservation, and only those slightly less crazy (Yours Truly) make a booking the night before.

I arrived in Toronto late Friday night after an intense drive through rain, which didn’t let up until I reached Buffalo. I had an optometrist appointment yesterday morning because it took TWO WEEKS for my trial toric contact lenses to arrive. My prescription is complicated, and none of the trial lenses at the optometrist’s fit properly. But I’m pleased (nay, relieved) that the ones he ordered on December 6 give me 20/20 vision and I can actually SEE in Cuba. Well, except for swimming in the ocean. I won’t be straying far from shore.

By some miracle I managed to finish all my errands yesterday and crammed some more. I’ll brush up on my feeble Spanish on the plane.

I’m travelling light, except for the camera equipment. Kermit’s happy for the space.

The Adventures of Kermit

More ID! gailatlarge flickr badge

I’m going low- to no-tech on this trip. The PowerBook is staying at home and I’m bringing only battery chargers. I bought a 28-80mm lens in New York City last Wednesday because I’m shooting mainly film. I’ll be offline until sometime on New Year’s Day, and I resume work Jan 2.

Toasting your (collective) good health and happiness over a mojito,
Gail

23 Dec 2006 If Only All Airports Were This Picturesque
Author: Gail |  Category: Aviation, Flying, Friends  | 2 Comments

Seamans Airport, PA

December 21, 2006
Seamans Airport (9N3)
Factoryville, PA

When David first took me to Cherry Ridge Airport for my inaugural flight in the Tri-Pacer, he told me that it would forever change the way I thought of airports in general.

“This isn’t JFK, Gail, there’s no passport control to bother you… but can I pat you down?“

I’ve been in many airports around the world, but they were mostly of the large-scale variety such as Heathrow (London) and Changi (Singapore). In the past couple of years, I’ve become acquainted with a new variety of airport, the kind that’s more like the Cheers bar, where the bartenders run you a tab and everyone knows your name.

David told me there are over 300 airports in Pennsylvania alone, and most of them are like this one — small, friendly, and with its own charm. He mentioned Seamans Airport before, I knew it by name. But we’d never touched down there in the Tri-Pacer, although we must’ve flown over it on numerous occasions.

On Monday I received an email from Ali, one of David’s former cadets, who mentioned that she and Eric were going to rent a plane and take a flight in David’s memory. They didn’t know I was in Scranton, so I phoned them right away to ask if I could join them and we discussed weather and timing. The best day for all of us was Thursday, and as you can see in the previous post we picked a good day to go flying. After all the praise David heaped on Eric’s skill — “He’s a better pilot than I am, Gail” (what an endorsement!) — I thought it was fitting he’d be in charge on this particular flight.

Alan and his new Super CubWhat made it even better, though, was a pitstop at Cherry Ridge Airport where we happened to bump into Alan, one of David’s fellow Civil Air Patrol senior members. The look on his face when he saw the three of us taxiing past was absolutely priceless. He’d just bought a Super Cub, which I had a feeling he would eventually buy because David told me about his predilection for it. I commented on his deluxe windows — our rented Cessna needed a wash and it was ruining my photos! — and he showed us the best part, the door that swung upwards and allowed for real aerial photos. The one that requires a cast-iron stomach and confidence in a seat belt! (I should take up skydiving, right Krisanne?)

That happy coincidence made my day — not just having the opportunity to go flying with people who knew David for years, but to have another flying door open for me (was that a pun?). That is, to go up with Alan in his deluxe Super Cub, which is perfect for aerial photography!

All of us had the same idea to go flying on Monday, but Thursday was the day when it all worked out. “Guess who arranged it?” Alan said, pointing upwards.

Thanks, David.

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22 Dec 2006 Winter Solstice Sunset, From a Cessna 172
Author: Gail |  Category: Flying, Photography  | 3 Comments

winter solstice sunset, from a Cessna 172

Flying over northeastern Pennsylvania
December 21, 2006

This is straight out of David’s camera, no post-processing.

The best place to observe a sunset is from an airplane, in my opinion.

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20 Dec 2006 Sunset Over the Hudson River
Author: Gail |  Category: Photography, USA  | One Comment

sunset over the Hudson River

Today’s sunset was gorgeous. I took a similar picture on New Year’s Eve, 2002, at nearly the same spot.

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20 Dec 2006 For Holly Yvonne
Author: Gail |  Category: film photography  | Leave a Comment

for Holly Yvonne

Posting this on the fly. Click on the pic for description in Flickr.

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20 Dec 2006 Security in an Insecure World
Author: Gail |  Category: USA, cameraphone  | One Comment

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Eighth Avenue, New York City

Security in an Insecure World, Version 2:

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A different interpretation. I like the first one better.

More photos from today (thus far) are here.

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20 Dec 2006 Dear David: Month 12
Author: Gail |  Category: Acts of Kindness, Letters to David, Widowhood  | 5 Comments

Table of contents for Letters to David

  1. Dear David: Christmas Day
  2. Dear David: Your Memorial
  3. Dear David: Mister Hugh
  4. Dear David: Thanks for Helma
  5. Dear David: The Magnolia Tree
  6. Dear David: Month One
  7. Dear David: The Basement
  8. Dear David: When?
  9. Dear David: Month Two
  10. Dear David: Mister Hugh in the City
  11. Dear David: Month Three
  12. Dear David: Month Four
  13. Dear David: Month Five
  14. Dear David: Month Six
  15. Dear David: Month Seven
  16. Dear David: A Poem
  17. Dear David: Month Eight
  18. Dear David: Month Nine
  19. Dear David: Month 10
  20. Dear David: Month 11
  21. Dear David: Month 12

our first self-portrait

Dear David,

Remember when I took this photograph? It was spontaneous, our first portrait together, October 4, 2004. You were so amazed by this picture:

“I can’t believe that’s me, Gail! You took 10 years off me!”

You were wearing your favourite shirt: a black linen Cuban number, which — come to think of it — was so out of place in your aviation-themed wardrobe.

You said until you’d met me, you’d thought of yourself as an old man. I remember when you said it; it saddened me that you perceived yourself this way. Because I just thought you needed some adventure in your life, and a co-pilot who’d put her hand on your knee now and again. You agreed wholeheartedly, as I recall.

When you took me on our first outing — the Lackawanna Coal Mine Tour — and I pinched your bum in the darkness, you knew it was a done deal, right? I think you even yelped, and wore a huge perma-grin on your face despite the fact we were in the murky depths of a coal mine and the tour guide was narrating a grim story about child labour. Nobody understood why you were smiling.

I think that weekend caught both of us off-guard. In a good way.

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18 Dec 2006 Mercy Hospice, One Year Later
Author: Gail |  Category: Widowhood  | 12 Comments

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Yesterday I drove from Toronto to Scranton, arriving shortly after 10 o’clock in the evening. Helma greeted me with a wonderful meal, the kind of meal that can bring one back from the dead. I wasn’t feeling quite that bad, but the six-hour drive turned into seven hours because of busloads of sports fans heading east (to Rochester?) combined with sections of heavy rain and dense fog.

My plan was to pick up a fruit basket or something once I got into town to take with me to the hospice, to give to the night nurses. Last year I returned to the hospice on Christmas Eve with copious amounts of food that was brought to the house after David died. I simply couldn’t eat it all, and the nurses were grateful for “real” food instead of chocolate. (I can hear some of you saying now, but chocolate is real food!) Helma called along the way to check up on me, and kindly offered to buy the basket for me to save me a trip to the grocery store, bless’er.

After a big meal and some conversation it was nearly half past midnight, and I announced that it was time for me to go to the hospice.

Helma was surprised: “Now?”

“Yes, now.”

I put the basket in the car and drove the quiet streets of Scranton, darkened but for the seasonal Christmas lights. It was much warmer than it was the same time last year. I remember the big snowfall was on December 9 because it was the first time Mister Hugh set paw in snow.

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I didn’t make up my mind until recently where I wanted to be the night of December 17-18. When I arrived at the hospice, I found the head nurse and explained to her that I’d just driven from Toronto to return to the place where my husband had died one year before. When I began to elaborate on why I felt the need to be there, I could tell by the look on her face that I was in the right place because I didn’t need to explain anything.

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17 Dec 2006 The Inner Dialogue
Author: Gail |  Category: David, House of Fielding, Loss, Widowhood  | 6 Comments

Lt. Col. David L. Fielding

November 12, 2001
Photo credit: Dan Lanphear
1Lt David Fielding
Deputy Commander for Seniors/Mission Pilot/Aerospace Education Officer
Mount Pocono Composite Squadron 207, Civil Air Patrol

This photo was taken in 2001, when David was 1Lt. He was promoted to Lt. Col. in November 2005.

In matters of importance (and otherwise, sometimes), an inner dialogue takes place, with my words and what I’d imagine David saying. I read somewhere of a therapy exercise of letter-writing, where the subject writes a letter to the one who has passed on with their normal writing hand, and with their other hand, they write a response as they imagine it written by their loved one. It sounds very awkward, but apparently it has surprised people with its effectiveness in providing a “voice”.

I haven’t tried this yet, but I would like to. I have a journal that David and I were going to start on December 1, 2005, but his handwriting had become so shaky it was bordering on illegible. It frustrated him that he couldn’t write anymore, but it also didn’t seem the same if it was typed and printed, so the journal was abandoned. We got as far as pasting a few pictures in it: our engagement photo, a wedding photo collage, David typing up a post on the PowerBook in the hospital, and with Hugh at home. The plan was at the end of each month, both of us would write a few paragraphs on the right side of one page, and on the left side would be a photo that represented that month. I figured a monthly journal of our married life would be an easy frequency since we already both wrote online regularly.

When I read about the letter-writing therapy using both hands, I thought about how much David occupies the inner dialogue part of my brain. I took a can of clam chowder to work for lunch last week, and while I was heating it up in the microwave I could hear David telling me to buy this particular brand of “chow-DAH” in his best Boston accent. This happens all the time — especially in the grocery store, whenever I see airplanes, or animals, corn dogs or anything he was fond of. Or not so fond of, like women wearing too much makeup, or kids getting spoiled and not being disciplined properly. David’s form of mockery was never malicious, but always amusing.

Last weekend in Campbellford, Harold Carlaw was showing me an old airplane engine and when he said radiator — “rah-(‘a’ like in apple)-dee-ay-tor” — he nearly jumped out of his skin because I exclaimed, “That’s exactly the way my husband pronounced it!” It made him momentarily forget what he was trying to explain to me.

Sometimes I wonder how long my memories will hold out, memories that include voice inflection and mannerisms and smells and certainty in knowing how David would answer a question. In the relatively short period of time we were together, we came to know each other better than anyone else. Part of me is afraid all of that will fade, along with the rest of me that shared a life with him: the adventure of flying, travel, career prospects, building a family — all the joys and colour that come with engagement and marriage that I thought I would never experience because I didn’t think I was the “marriage type”. If I chose a picture to represent myself now, it might be this one.

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16 Dec 2006 Skatin’ in a Winter Wonderland
Author: Gail |  Category: Toronto, Videoclips  | One Comment

Click here for a higher-quality clip on Blip.tv

December 12, 2006
Nathan Phillips Square
Toronto

I cobbled together bits of the videoclips I mentioned here. It’s not cold enough to be a winter wonderland, but the light display is winterish.

Somewhere in my archives is footage of ice skating at Rockefeller Center in New York City, but only heaven knows where that is…

Music: “Walkin’ in a Winter Wonderland” by Bing Crosby

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