Memories of Scandinavia

JWise Photo of the Day

Scandinavian Foods in Phoenix, Arizona

I should concede that Caroline and I, in our addiction to travel, are loathe to let go of our experiences. The tens of thousands of photos and millions of words I’ve penned are not the only connections to our adventures. Rare is the day that we’ve not fallen in love with other aspects of those travels, such as Caroline’s obsession with Mayan clothing from a trip to Chiapas, Mexico, a couple of years ago. This past summer, we became once more enamored with the usual stuff: nature, people, history, traditional clothing, and food.

Sometimes, what we desire, though, is hard to find in the United States. Take herring, not pickled, canned, or creamed. I wanted fresh herring, but that is not to be found. Caroline, with her relentless sleuthing skills, found a place that sold salted herring. After our recent experience with bacalao (salted cod) and the success of desalting it, I felt that salted herring could offer me what I desire, so we bought five pounds. Shipping was going to be pricy because of the weight, so if we are already paying for 2-day delivery, we might as well throw some other stuff into the package. We had originally found the Scandinavian Specialties shop up in Washington before Christmas, but they were sold out of many of the items we wanted.

By early February, things were restocked, and we were able to order a variety of caramelly goat cheeses called Brunost, another cheese popular in Sweden called Prästost (Priest cheese), and different types of crispbreads. We also just had to buy crispy onions as we’ve come to believe that Scandinavian crispy onions must be the secret ingredient in their amazing pølser (hotdogs). The photo shows our Scandinavian life-savers that bring us back to last year’s summer vacation. Daniel Espinoza of Scandinavian Specialties assisted us with our order and was incredibly helpful. He’ll also play a key role when we will order a cured winter lamb specialty called Pinnekjøtt towards the end of summer. These little luxuries are incredible reminders of just how fortunate we are.

Back to Duncan

JWise Photo of the Day

Train passing through Duncan, Arizona

This is a consolidation post covering the previous five nights that I was staying at the Simpson Hotel in Duncan, Arizona. Why was I staying at the Simpson with proprietors Deborah and Clayton for this length of time? I was on a mission to write. And what does this train have to do with any of this? I still need to get my steps in, and as I’ve never seen this freight train in all the years Caroline and I have been traveling out this way, I felt it was high time to run out and catch it. Lucky for me, the whistle of its approach can be heard from the crossing preceding this one. The train is on its way to the copper mine up in Clifton-Morenci, and after it finishes its northwest trek it will turn around and head right back through here in about four hours, as it returns to New Mexico.

Following my routine out here in Eastern Arizona, I’ll be seated at the table in the parlor of this old west hotel by sunrise to start writing. Coffee will arrive at about 9:00, If I so desired, I could have it earlier, but I’m in no rush. As I’ve written previously, the luxurious vegetarian breakfasts are nothing less than a level of spectacular that only Marcel Proust could adequately describe. By 10:00, I’ll be done eating, though I only move one seat, back to where I originally occupied a place at the table, in order to continue tossing words upon the electronic paper.

Hal Empie's Pharmacy in Duncan, Arizona

By lunchtime or maybe early dinner, I’ve got to get up from the hardwood chair to get the blood flowing and gather more steps on my path of trying to maintain the 10k goal Caroline and I have. Speaking of Caroline, she’s working from home this week while I attempt to maintain a deep focus on the subject matter of writing. The good news is that my productivity nearly tripled during my stay, which wasn’t a certainty, but it turns out that not having a parade of people with whom I’ve cultivated regular conversations passing by in any of the multitude of coffee shops I frequent. Here in Duncan, I’m able to find a level of concentration that is elusive while I’m in Phoenix.

Many of my afternoon and/or evening meals are taken at the only restaurant in town, the Ranch House Restaurant, a classic small-town joint where I obviously stand out. The situation might be easily repaired by me donning a baseball cap, or if I were willing to invest in proper Western gear and a pricey cowboy hat, I too could look like a boss and get the respect the staff and other patrons offer these icons of the local community. Alas, I’m a simple hatless man who doesn’t really fit in. After eating, it’s time to collect a few more steps and talk to my muse about the direction of what I might be writing when I return to the hotel.

U.S. Post Office in Duncan, Arizona

And then I write, write, and write some more. No, I’m not visiting the post office to drop these missives. They are collected in a growing document in which I’m working on the roots and trunk of something I hope will grow into a fully formed tree with dozens of branches and tens of thousands of leaves. I did learn over these five days that intense writing sessions can wear one down and that when an incredible burst of productivity is realized, the consequence might be a total loss of inspiration to go further. A break was required.

So, this would be my last day in Duncan, and though Deborah and Clayton offered me an extra day, my forlorn heart required a dose of Caroline to resuscitate it from its longing to be embraced by her loving arms. Not expecting me until the following day, my Saturday return was a surprise to her and a relief for me.

Two Birds

JWise Photo of the Day

Caroline Wise and a bird in Arizona

Rarely a day passes where a bird doesn’t fly into Caroline’s orbit alighting up on head, shoulder, or hand if she extends it. From ungainly seagulls trying to balance on her oval skull to owls and hawks on her shoulders, to the finches, robins, hummingbirds, woodpeckers, grackles, and other small birds that look for one of her dainty fingers to land on for a break and what we assume to be a moment of communion.

I remember a day some 15 years ago as though it was yesterday, we were on the Oregon coast when a pelican approached opening its beak pouch to offer her a fish as though Caroline was its chick. Fortunately, she’s never been the curiosity of vultures, though we are both aware that the day will arrive when their species will feast upon her, since being a Zoroastrian Parsi, she’s made it clear she desires a sky burial.

Things Will Be Haywire

JWise Moments, Photo of the Day

Crazy stuff taped to a pole in Phoenix, Arizona

The astute reader will have noticed that I went 40 days after New Year’s Day without sharing a post, and it was not because I fell from the Earth. I fell into writing, writing something bigger than usual, and no, this photo is not part of my effort. While the date on this post is the 8th of January, and the date of the photo was from the 2nd of January, this is actually being posted on the 11th of February because that’s the day I opened a new office document and began penning a thing.

I do find it peculiar not to be sharing anything on a regular basis. After years of pushing so much out here, it appears that our lives have taken a pause if the frequency of posts was considered a measure of our activity. Rest assured, we remain quite busy with Caroline working on a number of fiber arts projects and I, well, writing as I’ve already said. We’ll return to traveling as soon as I feel that I can afford a window of distraction while still being able to fall back into this work that, from where I sit today, looks to become my most ambitious project yet. I have to admit, writing that feels link a jinx of sorts, but I’ll try to keep the superstition at bay.

Hopefully, this will be the one and only allusion to this plan to use many words to accomplish the goal of creating/penning something I’ve never attempted previously.

So, please understand that for a while, the missives here on the blog are likely going to be few and far between but not so few that I’ll be left feeling years from now, when I look back at 2024, that Caroline and I took time off from busy, adventurous lives. Stuff will happen, and stuff will be noted.

Happy New Year From Out Here

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Simpson Hotel in Duncan, Arizona

Happy New Year, and welcome to 2024. I took up my place in the first sunlight of the day while Clayton was busy in the kitchen making coffee and presenting us with a parfait breakfast starter.  Caroline is on the phone with her mom in Germany, and I try basking in the warm sunshine while writing, but enjoying the ambiance of the Simpson Hotel is a powerful distraction.

Karthik and Lakshmi at the Simpson Hotel in Duncan, Arizona

A newly married young couple who arrived last night joined us for our morning meal: Lakshmi and Karthik, who also live in the Phoenix area. They’ve been out wandering around the area for the past week, trying to get more of the Southwest into their senses before Karthik takes off for India to deal with some of the beaurocracy involving working on an H1B visa. While he’s gone, Lakshmi will be dealing with their move up to the Portland area. When they told us about their travels from the Petrified Forest to Gallup, over to Santa Fe and Albuquerque in New Mexico, and various points between before finally landing in Duncan, Arizona, it was nice to see a mirror image of Caroline’s and my enthusiasm for sharing time together exploring our world. In the popular vernacular of the day, they are vibing. Over breakfast, sumptuous as always, we discussed the drive home, in which all four of us were traveling in the same direction but talked of a detour through Virden, New Mexico, to try catching sight of some sandhill cranes.

Sandhill Cranes in Virden, New Mexico

These large birds were in short supply, and the ones we did spot were quite distant from where we could observe them. We’d brought binoculars, but even so, nobody got a great view of the cranes. No matter, we’d seen wildlife and were able to share some enthusiasm with Lakshmi and Karthik about how incredible these opportunities are.

Cow sign in Virden, New Mexico

With nothing left to do, and instead of trying to wedge something else into the last minutes of our getaway, we accepted that our long weekend was coming to a close and that by focusing on the drive west, we’d be able to go further into In Search of Lost Time.

On a final note, Clayton left us with a quote from historian Charles A. Beard to ponder: “The bee fertilizes the flower it robs.”

Into The Shadows With 2023

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

At the Simpson Hotel in Duncan, Arizona

Now, here we are in the early sunrise of the final day of the year, perched in our respective comfy spots in a room about to turn 110 years old. Not the oldest place we’ve ever taken up, but a cozy location nonetheless. As for the other side of the windows, it’s a wintery freezing morning out there where the warming cup of coffee would quickly lose its potential, followed by turning cold, too.

At the Simpson Hotel in Duncan, Arizona

Before any thoughts of finding the bravery to venture beyond our lazy comfort arise, the clinking and clatter of kitchen sounds clue us in that to head out for a walk at this time would be nothing short of rude as the symphony from that side of the hotel could only signal one thing: we were soon to find ourselves feasting.

At the Simpson Hotel in Duncan, Arizona

Meanwhile, we, too, bask in the warm indoors to avoid the bitter cold that is ushering out the year that was. This guy is Crocket, the trust fund kitty I’ve mentioned before. Through the cosmetic surgery available in Photoshop, I tried cleaning up the worst of his lung condition, which is the reason why, in the early part of the day, he’s a snotty, mucusy mess of a cat. Yet aside from trying to bite me if I attempt to pet him, he seems nice enough.

At the Simpson Hotel in Duncan, Arizona

This is beyond eating. Eating is too vulgar a word: all who pull up to a table this day will eat. Instead, we dine on a feast of flavors and textures that conspire to punctuate the end of 2023 with a duel in which this final breakfast takes up a sword and, with a challenge, says en garde! to the 364 morning meals that came before it.

This wicked concoction from the genius imagination of the artist in front of the stove can be described as a perfect mystery demanding that we forge a way to decipher where our taste buds are traveling. Flavors arrive from numerous points on the globe, maybe Oaxaca, a little bit of Persia, and the American Southwest, while the other locations must remain offshore in the chef’s repertoire of tools and brushes he used to craft this canvas.

Mystery must remain a part of this extraordinary beginning of the day because revealing precisely what went into our breakfast might chase away some of the enchantment. With my own imagination swirling around just what was on this plate, what Chef Don Carlos brought to our senses, and how it will flavor the experience of this last day of the year, I am allowed to savor what has been presented as though I were gazing into a culinary diorama.

Entering New Mexico between Duncan, Arizona and Lordsburg, New Mexico

With the proverbial one thing leading to another combined with the knowledge of proximity due to this weekend’s destination, Caroline had already coordinated a meeting with a friend we’d not seen in more than ten years on Sunday, that’s today. The couple we are visiting are Sandy and Tom, who now live in Silver City, New Mexico, following an extended stay in Sharjah, United Arab Emirates, where Tom was teaching engineering. Well, here we are, crossing the desert into New Mexico for the 75-mile drive to our destination, thus violating what I wrote earlier about trying to accomplish nothing on a lazy close of the year.

As isolated as they could find, up in the hills and quite similar to where they used to live in Prescott, Arizona, we found Tom and Sandy awaiting our arrival. While Caroline and Sandy have kept in touch over the years, this was the first time they were seeing each other face-to-face in the intervening years. Over coffee and about three hours of the afternoon, we chatted and chatted before making a date to visit again on April 6th, when we’d be passing through the area again on our way to the total solar eclipse on April 8th. This time spent with old friends added a nice punctuation to the last day of the year.

Leaving Silver City, New Mexico

Leaving when we did offered us all the fireworks we’d need to usher in 2024 because the sunset delivered a performance that sang to our senses. As the sky brought a song, our dinner with Clayton and Deborah, owners of the Simpson Hotel, would be a symphony performed in the Philharmonic de Paris, only better.

Caroline Wise in New Mexico

Caroline and I have shared very few New Year’s celebrations with others and to be invited, unexpectedly, to the table of our hosts to note the arrival of the new year over a sumptuous meal and a bottle of sparkling Riesling wine from Wiesbaden, Germany, well, that surpassed everything we might have otherwise considered as a potential celebration of the change from one year to the next.

Dusk in Arizona and the end of the sunset

There are so many parts that lend themselves to what is experienced. It is not simply food or alcohol, not only the ambiance of this 110-year-old art hotel. Our remote location in a beautiful corner of the sparsely populated Southwest also factors in, but the real front of the orchestra is the chemistry between the quartet and a passion for the aesthetic found in the love of time and what these participants in life are able to bring to it.

Dithering in Duncan Arizona

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Breakfast at the Simpson Hotel in Duncan, Arizona

Before we know it, we are waking in a bed not our own, just before sunrise. This being a lazy closure of the year that was 2023, we are in no hurry to discover anything that hasn’t already been collected this year. Okay, that is mostly true. Last night, upon reaching Pima, Arizona, Taylor Freeze was luring us in to accentuate our state of fullness by offering us a chocolate malted that might be our favorite anywhere, but that and Guayo’s was really it.

Now, it is time to linger once again in the parlor of the Simpson Hotel, awaiting the warming rays of the rising sun. A cup of coffee from our hosts, who woke much earlier than expected, arrives, and based on the sounds emanating from the kitchen, we can anticipate breakfast will be coming up soon. Lord Chef Don Carlos, under a different hat, is the renowned artist of the same name, sans the beneficial title Lord Chef. True to my perception, another of his famous vegetarian repasts is in the works. We have come to understand that these creations rival any other early-day meals we’ve taken from Stockholm to Santa Monica or Portland to Vienna. World Class eating of the gourmet variety right here, miles from the New Mexico border in the middle of nowhere, Arizona.

Duncan, Arizona

From there, we did what anyone else would do who was trying to escape the year that had been, we merged into a transitional state where little was allowed to happen. This type of being is often referred to as vegging, and we were practicing hard to enhance our mastery of this skill. Caroline was back at the window, you know, the one with the cushy seat where the cats tend to congregate due to the slightly closer proximity to the sun spilling into the front window of the Simpson. My place in the parlor is at the same spot I was last night, where I took coffee and was served that amazing frittata, breakfast bruschetta, and sauteed veggies. Seems that by neglecting to include a photo, I might have otherwise missed that prior to the savory, we were offered a sweet in the form of a Crème fraîche-topped hearty pastry studded with a rainbow of various colored fruit. Lethargy was obviously the third course, but the cold, hardwood of my chair meant my butt would pay for it.

West of Duncan, Arizona

While my heart was into accomplishing little, my bottom insisted I get up and move as it’s been hours in the parlor, although time seemed to be standing still. Ah, coffee and maybe some lunch could be in our future? Heck, we can also get into some more Proust on a drive over to Safford.

Starbucks in Safford, Arizona

At Starbucks, we were able to duplicate our efforts and much of the positioning we’d taken at the Simpson. Sitting down, we got busy doing what needed to be done. But then, just as a new routine of being in place was finding comfort, we’re informed that they must close for unexplained reasons at 4:00, which is only 15 minutes away. Even had we known the reasons, our need to depart would have remained the same.

Undeterred, we took the opportunity to finish volume six of In Search of Lost Time and finally put The Fugitive behind us. Our speed of return to Duncan was adjusted in order to best facilitate our goal. And guess what? We won. Volume six has been vanquished.

Of the details that followed, nothing of import is noted as simple things one might do in the front parlor of an Old West hotel from 1914 were actively engaged. The quiet, warm lighting, purring cats, and wonderful setting carried us into the evening, and that was that.