Recorded September, 2006

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When I was a young chap of 17 or so, I finally got the keys to the family Jaguar to run an errand for my mother (Dorothy).   Having had several hours of driving training, with my father in the passenger seat, I felt hugely confident and was eager to test the Jags potential on my own.   It wasn't long before I crunched the right front fender against a stone wall.   Sheepishly returning home I told Mom about the damage.  She quickly arranged to get the car to a repair shop before Dad got home and later told  him something about the engine needing fixing.  Dad never found out. . . thanks Mom, you saved my bacon, sorry Dad.

Still eager and cheery before checking in, Mom was keeping a stiff upper lip as her youngest was about to depart for college. By the end of the day my head was shaved, my civvies were gone, and Mom was teary eyed as we said good-bye.

Mom helped handle our sturdy British waterproof prams in front of the Tower of London, where frequent rains are the norm.

Exploring Austria during Mom's visit when we lived in London.

We took a few days to visit Austria, riding the cable car up to a local peak. The air was crisp, clear, clean, refreshing, exhilarating,....so much so, we decided to walk back down! As the crow flies we could see Kirchberg down below, however, we couldn't fly like the crow. We had a multitude of switchbacks down the mountain, turning that "crow flight" of about 7 miles to something closer to 20! So our euphoria of the heights began to temper as we realized we were committed to this downward trek, and we decided to bushwack straight down across the switchbacks. Of course this was more direct, but also more rugged, and Mom, with her history of sprained ankles, was making me nervous. She had not a care in the world, however, and with a grin a mile wide she floated through these beautiful hills, "alive with the sound of music."

Fortunately, just as we all began to drag and wonder if we would ever find our way back to the hotel, a tavern came into view, with cold beer, a porch with a view, and a phone to call a taxi. All was well, and yes, the hills were alive with the sound of music.