I’m so lucky, I don’t even have to rake my own leaves anymore. There’s a whole crew out there blowing, raking, and sweeping away the remaining signs of Fall.  I can recall many hours of yardwork in my past, and even leaf raking “parties” up at my Grandparent’s lake.  They called it a party, but to me it was just work in exchange for lunch.  As was the tradition back then, the women would prepare the food while the men folk would do the massive job of clearing several acres of woods and lawns on their property. I was a hero one year when I personally rented a giant sweeper/shredder and did the whole job in less than half the time.  The food tasted much better, too. Thank you technology, with special appreciation to the Condo Association workers that are out there today!

We went to an odd event last night.  It was a dinner with a gourmet group called Chaine des Rotisseurs, with roots leading back to 1248.  It’s the oldest and largest food and wine society in the world with nearly 25,000 members.  It was founded as the royal guild of goose roasters, and the chains that are part of their logo likely refer to the mechanical spits that were once used. Last night’s get together was an effort to reorganize the Portland Chapter, that disbanded a few years ago.  I guess what struck me as odd was the funky vests that many members wear, loaded with pins to recognize events and honors.  These vests might add some color to a chef’s white jacket, but are a bit much when worn with a suit or sport coat. It reminded me of a Boy Scout patch vest, or perhaps a pin collector at Disney World. Eating dinner, to me, in not worthy of an award, but certainly preparing it deserves recognition.  I enjoyed the meal and company, but was a bit confused on lack of subtlety by the organizers.  Shouldn’t the awards go to the chefs, restaurant owners, and sommeliers, and not the diners? Maybe it’s just too Royal for me? Or, am I missing something?

1248 is two centuries before the life of Leonardo da Vinci that I’m currently reading about. I found it interesting that Leonardo lived in Florence, Italy that was a town of 40,000 people back then; the same size as my hometown of Elkhart, Indiana.  While Elkhart hasn’t grown much larger through the years, Florence now has a population of over 380,000. Will Elkhart be that size in another 300 years? Leonardo was the same generation as Christopher Columbus, whose discovery of America made U.S. towns like Elkhart possible.  Like myself, Leonardo was born out of wedlock, which prevented him from working as a notary like his father and forefathers. I never had any desire to be a notary, and fortunately there are no longer career restrictions on adopted children.  There are probably no other similarities between myself and Leonardo da Vinci, and I’m certainly glad I wasn’t known as Mike from Elkhart.  At least, I had a last name, something Leonardo never owned, although he was later referred to as Leonardo Vinci, the Florentine. Would Mike Elkhart, the Hoosier, be a cooler name for me?

Reading a book is many times like stepping into a time machine, transporting the reader to centuries long ago. While learning about Vietnam, I went back to my teenage years.  Prohibition, The Depression, and both Great Wars affected my adopted parents and grandparents, who lived through many years of multiple Roosevelt administrations.  I’ve recently studied this era through television documentaries and books. I then traveled back through the Civil War and Revolutionary War, and tried to imagine myself living in these times. In this earlier timeframe, the Starz Outlander series uses time travel by a fictitious character to contrast lifestyles two centuries apart.  My next stop was the mid-1500’s in England and Scotland, where Queens and religious differences ruled lives. Today, I was with Leonardo da Vinci, another century back in time, trying to maintain perspective on all these years of history that I’ve found the time to study in retirement.

Reading, watching, learning, dreaming, and studying is a lot better way to spend my time than raking leaves.  Throughout the course of time, there have always been trees and leaves. In a recent trip to Muir Woods, just outside of San Francisco, I saw Redwoods dating back more than 600 years.  Some of these massive trees probably began to sprout about the same time as the first dinners hosted by the royal guild of goose roasters, so they give you a good perspective on time lapse. Fortunately, these Redwoods, and their cousins the Giant Sequoias, don’t drop leaves that need to be raked. Although the rake itself dates back many centuries, the U.S. patent was issued to Edmund Brown in 1874.  Leaves are a natural fertilizer, that should probably be left to do their job, but they clog our sewer drains and prevent sunlight from getting to our nicely manicured lawns.  Mowing lawns is a whole different issue that I no longer have to deal with by living in a condo. I’d rather fire up the time machine.