About Me

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Delray Beach, FL, Westport, MA, United States
Undergraduate degree, Colby College; MA in teaching, Columbia Teacher's College; former high school English teacher in three states; former owner of interior design co. with advanced degree from R.I. School of Design. Published first book in 2009 titled, MINOR LEAGUE MOM: A MOTHER'S JOURNEY THROUGH THE RED SOX FARM TEAMS. Her humorous manuscript titled ELDERLY PARENTS WITH ALL THEIR MARBLES: A SURVIVAL GUIDE FOR THE KIDS was published in June, 2014. In 2015 A SURVIVAL GUIDE won a gold medal in the self-help category at the Florida Authors & Publishers Association conference. See website By CLICKING HERE.

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

A Photo Trip

I think we're all in need of an escape at the moment from the ravages of weather and man's inhumanity to man. I'm posting some photos below of our travels, with more in succeeding weeks.

Zambezi River, Zambia

Hungry Hippo on Zambezi River, Zambia

Thornybush Game Preserve, So. Africa

Siblings in Kirstenbosch Botannical Gardens, Capetown, So. Africa

Wakodahatchee Wetlands, Delray Beach, Fl.

Berkshire Mountains Music Festival, Mass.

A sapling for dinner, Thornybush Game Preserve, So. Africa

Turtle Rehabilitation Center, Juno Beach, Fl.

Climbing Mt. Vesuvius, Naples, Italy

Campers, Casamicciola, Island of Ischia, Italy

School kids, Ardmore, Ireland
Cards on the beach, Casamicciola, Ischia, Italy

Conch shells, Harbour Island, Bahamas

La Mortella Botannical Gardens, Island of Ischia, Italy

Sunset, Key West, Florida

Westport, Mass.

Monday, September 4, 2017


I'm about 90% finished with a new manuscript titled, A Survival Guide for People Who Travel Together: Tales from the Road. Most of the anecdotes are Charley's and mine, but at least a dozen other travelers have contributed. Thanks to all who so willingly recounted their stories with great laughter or nostalgic affection! I might add, there are no children on these journeys. That is another whole book, probably not mine.


     Charley and I have done a lot of traveling together over more than fifty years. It started while we were engaged. I was still in college and he was an Air Force officer assigned to Dover, Delaware.  For two years we drove back and forth between Colby College in Waterville, Maine, and Dover Air Force Base in his white VW “Beetle,” shouting fraternity and sorority songs to stay awake:  “Give a rousing cheer/For the boys are here/Lift your glasses high…”
Saigon, Viet Nam 1967
     After we’d been married a year, Charley was assigned to Viet Nam. We met in Honolulu halfway through his year-long tour in ‘67. He arrived at the agreed-upon hotel at 3 a.m., but the desk clerk swore his Rolodex didn’t have any record of my being there. “Try under my name,” Charley said to the man.
     "No, sir, nothing under 'Charles Carey.'"
Honolulu, 1967 
     “Try again under ‘Pamela Carey.’ That’s spelled C-A-R-E-Y.”
     ”Wait a minute! Here she is! Her card was stuck to the card in front of it.”
     “Honey, it’s me,” Charley said quietly, knocking on my door. Since I was expecting him the next morning, I was sound asleep with my hair in curlers and a mud-gunk mask all over my face. Today cell phones would prevent such tragedies. “Open the door!”
     Half asleep, I stumbled to the deadbolt and slid it back. Thirty seconds later, bits of my mud mask hung all across Charley’s stubble.
     We began to travel with another Air Force couple, but he was a pilot and none of us stayed in one place very long. Eventually we traveled with friends from each town where we settled.  We learned quickly there are close friends you can travel with and close friends you can’t. After we had kids, we gave up travelling with other couples. It was too exhausting to make decisions for more than four, and some of the other females qualified in the “bitch” category, were ALWAYS thirty minutes late, or simply couldn’t make up their minds. Charley and I needed our “quiet time,” without any explanations for the hours we might be missing-in-action.
Buzios, Brazil  1982
     Travel is one of the things we enjoy doing together most….unless there’s an argument. And on foreign trips, especially, one of us will always get pissed off, probably from a lack of sleep. Let’s face it – we all dream of an idyllic trip before we leave, but no trip can be perfection. There are often mis-communications, unforeseen emergencies, as well as plain old physical discomfort. No accommodations are quite like home. A sense of humor and the ability to “roll with the punches” are indispensable, even if the punches come in the form of a stolen car or poison ivy surrounding your torso. As we age, "rolling with the punches" has become more of a "get on your feet before the countdown."
Baldissero, Italy  2005 
     When our sons were playing amateur and professional baseball (college ball and the Red Sox organization), we traveled across twenty states to watch them play. During Charley’s professional life, we traveled around the world on business. In retirement, we devote several weeks a year to international travel.  In addition, we drive from Massachusetts to Florida and back as “snowbirds” each year. On one of those trips, we didn’t speak from Massachusetts to South Carolina.  It wasn’t smart to have an argument before leaving on a 1200-mile ride together in a small metal cylinder!
On the equator    2008
Galapagos Islands, Ecuador  2008
Machu Picchu, Peru   2008

   When we travel we are on a figurative journey without a map. We know memories of the unexpected, the funny, the touching, and the exasperating will remain with us long after we get home.  We will always have that! It’s mind-blowing to immerse ourselves in another culture, even if it's within our own country. It teaches tolerance and respect. It’s about “crossing borders into foreign regions of the soul,” as Sue Monk Kidd said in Travelling with Pomegranates.
Sampling the lagers in Castlebar, Ireland  2017
Our date with the raptors, Ireland  2017
     I've developed some unwritten "rules" along the way to help us survive our trips. Sometimes we 
follow them; sometimes we don't. May those who journey together do so in reverence, excitement, and 
never-ending repetition of the mantra, "Zip it!"
                                                        Athens, Greece  2014
Dubrovnik, Croatia   2009
Puglia, Italy   2010

Monet's Giverny, France   2011
Zulu headpiece   So. Africa      2011
Relaxing in Key West 
Oia, Island of Santorini, Greece   2014
Island of Majorca, Spain   2015

Utah Beach, Normandy, France    U.S. Navy Memorial
Disney World   2014
Bonita Springs, Florida
                                      Harbour Island, Bahamas    2015                                 
Cape of Good Hope, So. Africa   2011
Photo below Las Vegas, 2007 

Fondation Louis Vuitton, Paris   2016
Lacco Ameno, Island of Ischia, Italy    

 Amsterdam, Netherlands    2016

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Cobh, Ireland (Queenstown from1849-1921 under English rule)

     Cobh, Ireland (pronounced "Cove"), is the second-largest natural harbor in the world after Sydney, Australia. Each year around sixty cruise liners visit the port. We visited the waterfront town for several other reasons.
Waterfront Cobh, Ireland
     For many years Cobh was the port for Cork, lying on a glittering estuary dotted with brightly colored houses and overlooked by the massive St. Colman's Cathedral high above the town. More on the Cathedral later.
     Charley's family history could be traced to County Kildare and later County Cork and the port of Cobh. From 1848 to 1950 no fewer than 2.5 million emigrants left the port for other lands. During the famine years (named "The Great Potato Famine," although there was a plentiful supply of potatoes but the English demanded the shipments), seventy thousand people left from Cobh to escape the ravages of starvation.
Statue of Annie Moore and children, representing all those who left to seek a better life.
     In 1838 the Sirius sailed from Cobh, the first steamship to cross the Atlantic. In 1912 Cobh was the final port of call for the Titanic. And in 1915 the Lusitania was torpedoed by a German submarine off the coast of Kinsale. Survivors were brought to Cobh and many victims were buried there.
     We visited "Cobh, the Queenstown Story" exhibit in the Cobh Heritage Center, where we saw convicts' quarters below deck on their way to Australia, "so airless that candles could not burn." We saw families of emigrants in steerage quarters and read their diaries. The howl of a storm almost knocked us off-balance. We saw photos of those who had crossed on the Lusitania before its fateful voyage.
A passenger documented her Atlantic crossing on the Lusitania 1913
We saw recreations of life aboard the Lusitania, complete with china, linen tablecloths, and drawing rooms that rivaled the finest mansions of the time.
     We went next door to the "Titanic Experience Cobh" in the original White Star Line offices, where 123 passengers embarked on the SS Titanic. The technical wizardry was impressive but more memorable was standing on the spot from which passengers were ferried to the waiting ship offshore, never to return.
     Before our trip to Ireland, Charley and I had both read Dead Wake by Erik Larson. It's the story of those who sailed on the Lusitania, as well as those who destroyed it, hour by hour from its sailing in New York to its sinking off the Irish coast. We paid a visit to the massive French Gothic St. Colman's Cathedral, out of all proportion to the town, where many of the bodies lay after tragedy struck.
Cobh waterfront 1880's with St. Colman's Cathedral in background
     Begun in 1868, the Cathedral was not completed until 1915, mostly through donations from nostalgic Irish communities in the US and Australia. We did not see or hear its famous 47-bell carillon, the largest in Ireland.
Inside St. Colman's Cathedral, Cobh
     In fact, we didn't examine much inside the Cathedral. A shrouded body lay beneath the altar waiting to go to its final resting place, apropos of the Lusitania story. Since we were the only ones inside the Cathedral, we abandoned our tour and let the soul journey in peace.