2011
The Day After
26/12/11 09:04
I just don't get Justin Bieber. What a dufus. I guess the boppers like him so who's to say. Karli is also keen on him as well so we'll keep an open mind when we head up to the Falls in the coming days. One thing we didn't quite expect was that Evan would be as thrilled as he was to get the gift certificates to the Darden restaurants. You know, the Olive Garden, The Red Lobster, etc. Do you suppose he'll take his friends there? We encouraged him to take a friend or two and just arrange to pay the difference if the bill exceeds the value of the certificates. Let's hope he uses them and doesn't lose them first. And then we went to Nana Da's and spent a little time with them on Christmas night. Da was not himself to say the least or maybe he was. It's hard to say these days if it's the meds or what but he seems so much less interactive than usual. Maybe Nana just had him propped up on the couch to participate as he might for better or worse but she expected at least that much on Christmas night. It wasn't like we were showing up with bells on or anything. We were bearing gifts as you might expect but our visitation was expected to be brief and to the point. Turns out, whatever it was that was going through me came on quickly and I had little choice but to rush the family along and out the door. It was only later that evening that we finally got around to talking about the general state of affairs at the inlaws and much of that discussion was around Da's head and the injury thereupon. It was a festering wound and he just couldn't leave it alone.
Whatever I had was evidently shared with others in our household. The only thing we ate as a group was the chinese food from Christmas eve and that may have been the culprit. I never threw up but I did have had some serious issues at the other end. Ev had the same issue and he spent an equal amount of time in the bathroom dealing with his own demons. The scent was not pleasant but it was consistent which further had us thinking that our thoughts on the subject were very much on target. My poor darling had her own issues and they were not helped in the least by her rib issue. She threw up in the evening after everyone was in bed and fast asleep. She woke me but for an instant and then I was lost to my dreams once again. I'm sure her issues were further compounded by the box of chocolates she consumed earlier in the day. I admit to having one or two but she devoured the rest and paid the ultimate price. Not sure she understands herself why she did what she did. She is up this morning but clearly not herself. We'll see as the day wears on if she improves or not. She is expected at her parents if only because her siblings are planning to be there to celebrate the holidays with their parents. A day late for sure. A dollar short not so much.
Let the races begin! Looks like Mitt is down to be the Republican contender for 2012. Newt, for all his bravado and amusing clarity around the issue of who the nominee would be (I will be the nominee, he declared early in the month of Dec as he topped the polls nationwide). Slow and steady Mitt, the proverbial tortoise in the race for the nomination, will likely surpass the hare (Newt) in the final stretch as we close in on the beginning of the caucus and primary process. Not sure how the Mitt-ster is going to survive some of the southern states since he is not a true conservative and they do like their red meat in them there states. My guess would be that everyone will be on board and that means that the Republican rallying cry will be for anyone but Obama. The first black man elected to the presidency will more than likely go out as a one-term president. His socialist agenda failed miserably and one only has to look at the unemployment numbers to appreciate that fact. Big government and all its proponents will have to once again scour the academic alleys and liberal institutions for a leader and a voice that will help them to recapture their dream. It will not be at the expense of the god loving and god fearing Americans that want a better America and who are not afraid to vote for a man who will help deliver the dream of smaller government, less intrusion, more independence, and success based on merit. Let's hope Mitt can sell that message. This is his chance. This is our chance. We had better get it right.
Whatever I had was evidently shared with others in our household. The only thing we ate as a group was the chinese food from Christmas eve and that may have been the culprit. I never threw up but I did have had some serious issues at the other end. Ev had the same issue and he spent an equal amount of time in the bathroom dealing with his own demons. The scent was not pleasant but it was consistent which further had us thinking that our thoughts on the subject were very much on target. My poor darling had her own issues and they were not helped in the least by her rib issue. She threw up in the evening after everyone was in bed and fast asleep. She woke me but for an instant and then I was lost to my dreams once again. I'm sure her issues were further compounded by the box of chocolates she consumed earlier in the day. I admit to having one or two but she devoured the rest and paid the ultimate price. Not sure she understands herself why she did what she did. She is up this morning but clearly not herself. We'll see as the day wears on if she improves or not. She is expected at her parents if only because her siblings are planning to be there to celebrate the holidays with their parents. A day late for sure. A dollar short not so much.
Let the races begin! Looks like Mitt is down to be the Republican contender for 2012. Newt, for all his bravado and amusing clarity around the issue of who the nominee would be (I will be the nominee, he declared early in the month of Dec as he topped the polls nationwide). Slow and steady Mitt, the proverbial tortoise in the race for the nomination, will likely surpass the hare (Newt) in the final stretch as we close in on the beginning of the caucus and primary process. Not sure how the Mitt-ster is going to survive some of the southern states since he is not a true conservative and they do like their red meat in them there states. My guess would be that everyone will be on board and that means that the Republican rallying cry will be for anyone but Obama. The first black man elected to the presidency will more than likely go out as a one-term president. His socialist agenda failed miserably and one only has to look at the unemployment numbers to appreciate that fact. Big government and all its proponents will have to once again scour the academic alleys and liberal institutions for a leader and a voice that will help them to recapture their dream. It will not be at the expense of the god loving and god fearing Americans that want a better America and who are not afraid to vote for a man who will help deliver the dream of smaller government, less intrusion, more independence, and success based on merit. Let's hope Mitt can sell that message. This is his chance. This is our chance. We had better get it right.
Christmas 2011
25/12/11 08:24
Jingle bells. Jingle bells. Jingle bells all the way. You go, girl. I'm up and I got the christmas quiche in the oven. Last night's dishes are still on the table but so what. I'll probably have them done before the family gets up. Speaking of last night's dinner, it was the first time ever that Evan had chinese food. You know how it is to have a child with a peanut allergy. You just never get to go to chinese restaurants where you run the risk of gagging on the main course. Gagging may be an understatement since it can be fatal but we won't go there on Christmas morning. Nonetheless, we were assured by the owner of Li Yuens that she didn't use peanuts in anything so we were off and running. We chowed down on vegetable lo mein, stir fried rice, sweet and sour chicken, and a very tasty fried rice. By the way he ate the darn stuff, it was abundantly clear that he liked it just fine. It reminded me of those commercials on television. Mikey likes it. Mikey likes it. And he did. Not sure if that is the start of something good but it was good to see him at least willing to try something different. And, for something different, I will make a nice sheppard's pie for dinner. He does so enjoy that from time to time. Not sure what my little darling will have but we'll think of something. We always do.
I have to say that from a budgetary standpoint it has been something of a rambunctious christmas. We indulged in fantasies covering the spectrum from scanners to slippers to Sirius radio. And that doesn't even include the stocking stuffers. Oddly enough, there were no presents for me to wrap. I suppose I better find a way to wrap the Sirius car thing so she can have something to unwrap. It was the first Christmas ever where Evan took the initiative to buy his mom and dad a Christmas present without any prodding from his parents. He proudly displayed the presents he purchased and they were thoughtful with the promise of deliciousness. All from Stonewall Kitchen so you know you're good to go. I bought Nan the new iPhone 4s with the personal assistant, Siri. She's not quite ready for prime time but I have to say that she is probably a software update or two away from reading me a bedtime story upon request. Oh, the possibilities. I did ask her to talk dirty to me once and she started reeling off words like compost, manure, etc.. It was too funny. I'm beyond that sort of thing, mind you, but thought it might be fun to try. Just how courageous is my little Siri? Courageous enough to respond to text messages, courageous enough to send me a web site when asked about the schedule of the New England Patriots, and smart enough to tell me that she doesn't understand when I ask the silliest of questions. Siri and I are just getting started.
Speaking of rambunctious, have you seen my wood pile? It is two and half cords piled tidily from stern to bow. It looks to be enough and I would hasten to add that it was a lot of work to stack the darn stuff. I wasn't asking for volunteers paid or otherwise. Nancy didn't care for the fact that I didn't want hep and she was vociferous in her objections to my not asking Evan to pitch in. I told her that it was more work to ask him to help than it was worth. While that may be somewhat true, I wanted the personal satisfaction of having done it myself. Not an easy thing to say to a wife who feels that it is the son's duty to help and the father's duty to similarly engage his son. Her take was that I missed out on the opportunity to have my son help do something that would put him to work, give him a little personal satisfaction in the process, and create a bonding experience for dad and son. All I can say is, maybe next year. Maybe next year.
It was a pleasure to hear from brother Jim last night. He called as he usually does and we never seem to be home so we listened with a keen ear to his message. For a bro who doesn't celebrate the holidays, he was most gracious in his wishes for us and it was good to hear his voice. And a Merry, Merry Christmas to you , brother Jim.
I have to say that from a budgetary standpoint it has been something of a rambunctious christmas. We indulged in fantasies covering the spectrum from scanners to slippers to Sirius radio. And that doesn't even include the stocking stuffers. Oddly enough, there were no presents for me to wrap. I suppose I better find a way to wrap the Sirius car thing so she can have something to unwrap. It was the first Christmas ever where Evan took the initiative to buy his mom and dad a Christmas present without any prodding from his parents. He proudly displayed the presents he purchased and they were thoughtful with the promise of deliciousness. All from Stonewall Kitchen so you know you're good to go. I bought Nan the new iPhone 4s with the personal assistant, Siri. She's not quite ready for prime time but I have to say that she is probably a software update or two away from reading me a bedtime story upon request. Oh, the possibilities. I did ask her to talk dirty to me once and she started reeling off words like compost, manure, etc.. It was too funny. I'm beyond that sort of thing, mind you, but thought it might be fun to try. Just how courageous is my little Siri? Courageous enough to respond to text messages, courageous enough to send me a web site when asked about the schedule of the New England Patriots, and smart enough to tell me that she doesn't understand when I ask the silliest of questions. Siri and I are just getting started.
Speaking of rambunctious, have you seen my wood pile? It is two and half cords piled tidily from stern to bow. It looks to be enough and I would hasten to add that it was a lot of work to stack the darn stuff. I wasn't asking for volunteers paid or otherwise. Nancy didn't care for the fact that I didn't want hep and she was vociferous in her objections to my not asking Evan to pitch in. I told her that it was more work to ask him to help than it was worth. While that may be somewhat true, I wanted the personal satisfaction of having done it myself. Not an easy thing to say to a wife who feels that it is the son's duty to help and the father's duty to similarly engage his son. Her take was that I missed out on the opportunity to have my son help do something that would put him to work, give him a little personal satisfaction in the process, and create a bonding experience for dad and son. All I can say is, maybe next year. Maybe next year.
It was a pleasure to hear from brother Jim last night. He called as he usually does and we never seem to be home so we listened with a keen ear to his message. For a bro who doesn't celebrate the holidays, he was most gracious in his wishes for us and it was good to hear his voice. And a Merry, Merry Christmas to you , brother Jim.
Occupy This Occupy That
27/11/11 11:53
Thanksgiving was pretty good. The turkey was a Plainville 14 pounder and @ $2.99 a pound I would have to say that I've had better. Maybe the best part about the holiday is the time off from work. That has been exquisite. I don't think I like the way the stuffing turned out either. We decided to spice up our stuffing and squash this year with recipes from Stonewall Kitchen which included a couple of different kinds of chutney. I wish we hadn't. Next year it will back to the same old thing which has been tried and true over the years. I even stuck a little pork sausage in the stuffing which may not have done much in the final analysis. Oh yeah, and whose idea was it to use skim milk in the pumpkin pie instead of the recipe which called for whole milk. I think that was my idea. And, of course, when we get to the in-laws we find out that the Mrs has peas on the stove heated and ready to go. Maybe we didn't need to send Evan on a trip to the store to buy a can of peas since I decided that we didn't have enough color in the food we were planning to carry over to Park Ridge. Ya think? And thanksgiving would not be complete if we hadn't gotten to our destination only to find that we forgot the squash. Nancy got to drive back to the house and she missed seeing Evan get a few dollars from Da. It was a stealth deal that happened just barely out of sight but within earshot of where I was standing. We worry these days when the Ev-man has any discretionary dollars and what he might be spending them on. I figure if it makes da feel good when he gives it to him then we ought to let sleeping dogs lie. Such indulgences are rare but critical to his well being.
The republican contenders for the 2012 election include Romney, Bachman, Santorum, Herman Cain, Ron Paul, Gingrich, Rick Perry, and that other mormon, John Huntsman. The current money is on Gingrich but the steady money has been on Romney even though he can never seem to garner any more than 25% of the vote. The Union Leader endorsed Gingrich today which probably doesn't help Romney. Romney is in the race for the second or third time around and if the endorsement today derails him in NH then I not sure where he turns next. It seems like any number of the candidates have risen to the top of the heap only to fall by the wayside for one reason or other. Even with their shortfalls, any one of them can probably beat Obama next November. Unemployment is at an all-time high, there is an absence of leadership in the country, the national debt has spiraled to $15 trillion with no relief in sight, and the world's economy is in the dumpster. Conservatives around the globe are taking over the socialistic helm previously occupied by left, and the Arab Spring continues to unseat tyrants across the Mideast. The US version of the Arab Spring is Occupy-This and Occupy-That. Tent cities have sprung up across the nation from Wall Street to Oakland City Hall. Obama never fails to curtsy to his brotherhood on the streets as a pledge of solidarity but sleeps comfortably between the satin sheets while they saddle up in down sleeping bags on the filthy curbs of the nation's streets. They are a much needed distraction for the Obama white house and he's hoping that they will have the will power to stay the course through the next election. I'll be voting for the true conservative in the race, Newt Gingrich. Of all the contenders, I think he will do the best in a head-to-head match-up in the fall.
The weather has been downright pleasant here in the hood. I've biked the last 2 or 3 days since Temps have been in the fifties. I've also been playing a fair amount of scrabble on my iPad. I'm taking in a few good books with the most recent being "Steve Jobs." That book was powerful. I mean p-o-w-e-r-f-u-l. I'm reading something now about parallel universes which, thankfully, has been translated to layman's terms. The charm of the book seems to be the translation. The concepts are difficult to grasp so I read slowly. At heart, I think I am a frustrated mathematician even though I had trouble with the basics while making my way through my secondary school education. The artist in me is astonished at the possibilities while the right side of my brain is still looking for the instruction manual. It's a little like looking through a telescope into dark space. The eye takes in the images but the brain doesn't have the mapping capabilities to put it all together in a way that makes any sense. Maybe the universe is infinite. Or, as the book suggests, the universe is finite but so large that it just seems infinite. I'll let you know.
The republican contenders for the 2012 election include Romney, Bachman, Santorum, Herman Cain, Ron Paul, Gingrich, Rick Perry, and that other mormon, John Huntsman. The current money is on Gingrich but the steady money has been on Romney even though he can never seem to garner any more than 25% of the vote. The Union Leader endorsed Gingrich today which probably doesn't help Romney. Romney is in the race for the second or third time around and if the endorsement today derails him in NH then I not sure where he turns next. It seems like any number of the candidates have risen to the top of the heap only to fall by the wayside for one reason or other. Even with their shortfalls, any one of them can probably beat Obama next November. Unemployment is at an all-time high, there is an absence of leadership in the country, the national debt has spiraled to $15 trillion with no relief in sight, and the world's economy is in the dumpster. Conservatives around the globe are taking over the socialistic helm previously occupied by left, and the Arab Spring continues to unseat tyrants across the Mideast. The US version of the Arab Spring is Occupy-This and Occupy-That. Tent cities have sprung up across the nation from Wall Street to Oakland City Hall. Obama never fails to curtsy to his brotherhood on the streets as a pledge of solidarity but sleeps comfortably between the satin sheets while they saddle up in down sleeping bags on the filthy curbs of the nation's streets. They are a much needed distraction for the Obama white house and he's hoping that they will have the will power to stay the course through the next election. I'll be voting for the true conservative in the race, Newt Gingrich. Of all the contenders, I think he will do the best in a head-to-head match-up in the fall.
The weather has been downright pleasant here in the hood. I've biked the last 2 or 3 days since Temps have been in the fifties. I've also been playing a fair amount of scrabble on my iPad. I'm taking in a few good books with the most recent being "Steve Jobs." That book was powerful. I mean p-o-w-e-r-f-u-l. I'm reading something now about parallel universes which, thankfully, has been translated to layman's terms. The charm of the book seems to be the translation. The concepts are difficult to grasp so I read slowly. At heart, I think I am a frustrated mathematician even though I had trouble with the basics while making my way through my secondary school education. The artist in me is astonished at the possibilities while the right side of my brain is still looking for the instruction manual. It's a little like looking through a telescope into dark space. The eye takes in the images but the brain doesn't have the mapping capabilities to put it all together in a way that makes any sense. Maybe the universe is infinite. Or, as the book suggests, the universe is finite but so large that it just seems infinite. I'll let you know.
Thanksgiving 2011
24/11/11 08:02
I'm glad Nan's parents finally came around. They seemed unwilling to commit and not entirely up to the task when we asked just one week before the holiday what they wanted to do for Thanksgiving. I would say that they just looked tired and maybe couldn't bring themselves to say "no" to the family that has joined them for the holiday for years prior. I won't say that the sentiment was unanimous but the Mrs. spoke for the both of them. You might say that she expressed his desire and not her own. As of late, he is not wanting anyone to go out of their way for him. Maybe he is not wanting to be a burden or perhaps no more of a burden than he has already been. Not to us necessarily but certainly to the Mrs.. Then again, who knows what goes on behind closed doors.
Speaking of thanks, I should name a few. I'm happy to be employed when the nation has a 9.1% unemployment rate. I'm happy to have a family that is free of ailments if you overlook the usual aches and pains. I'm happy to have a son who, if not thriving, then is certainly getting by with a little help from his friends. And, maybe with a little help from mine although I know not what they do when they are not working with me. I'm happy to have sufficient resources such that I can afford a cup of coffee after work every day and not feel guilty about the expenditure. It's nice to not have a mortgage. One of the only things that I haven't caught up with entirely is the wood pile in my driveway, putting a bit of gas in the snowblower, and getting some rims for the snow tires on my darling's car. I'm delighted that my extended family is not wanting or needing anything other than their usual familial needs. Save for Jim, just maybe. It's hard to know what's going on there. As Carol King says, he is "oh, so far away." And, you can't worry about the spouses and darlings of your brothers and sisters. As long as they come and go without leaving a wake of misery in their path then I'm good with that. Did I tell you that we paid to have the chimney cleaned yesterday? I usually do it myself but my darling insisted that we pay to have a professional do the job this time. That's fine but I will take it from here. And, oh, what a surprise, they recommended certain repairs to the chimney and liner. Bastards.
We were late to the dance this Thanksgiving so ended up with a 14lb turkey. I usually don't mind paying a little more for the birds without hormone shots, the birds devoid of steroids and saline, and those humanely raised and vegetarian fed. It all adds up to about $2 more a pound but, as they say in the ads, you can taste the difference. I sure hope so. We'll be preparing a stuffing recipe from Stonewall kitchen and a squash recipe from the same. Both call for use of their jams in a jar. I asked Nan to put aside half the stuffing so I can add a little pork sausage to it and that should be very tasty indeed. The pumpkin pie came out of the oven last night. Nancy prepares a nice pumpkin pie each thanksgiving using her grandmother's recipe. You go, girl. You won't find any escargot on our menu but that is by design. Not sure if my sweetnesss will be making her famous stockpot sweet potatoes but I would encourage her to go for it. We have a bag or two of cranberries in the fridge but not sure what we'll be doing with those since Nan's mom has those covered. I get to serve up the gravy as I did last year. Let's hope this year's version is less muddy. It was just barely pourable last year. I think I added too much corn starch. I'll not make that mistake again. Seems we're short a vegetable or two so we'll look to close that gap as the day wears on. I do have some spare brussel sprouts in the fridge that I could use. We'll see.
Speaking of thanks, I should name a few. I'm happy to be employed when the nation has a 9.1% unemployment rate. I'm happy to have a family that is free of ailments if you overlook the usual aches and pains. I'm happy to have a son who, if not thriving, then is certainly getting by with a little help from his friends. And, maybe with a little help from mine although I know not what they do when they are not working with me. I'm happy to have sufficient resources such that I can afford a cup of coffee after work every day and not feel guilty about the expenditure. It's nice to not have a mortgage. One of the only things that I haven't caught up with entirely is the wood pile in my driveway, putting a bit of gas in the snowblower, and getting some rims for the snow tires on my darling's car. I'm delighted that my extended family is not wanting or needing anything other than their usual familial needs. Save for Jim, just maybe. It's hard to know what's going on there. As Carol King says, he is "oh, so far away." And, you can't worry about the spouses and darlings of your brothers and sisters. As long as they come and go without leaving a wake of misery in their path then I'm good with that. Did I tell you that we paid to have the chimney cleaned yesterday? I usually do it myself but my darling insisted that we pay to have a professional do the job this time. That's fine but I will take it from here. And, oh, what a surprise, they recommended certain repairs to the chimney and liner. Bastards.
We were late to the dance this Thanksgiving so ended up with a 14lb turkey. I usually don't mind paying a little more for the birds without hormone shots, the birds devoid of steroids and saline, and those humanely raised and vegetarian fed. It all adds up to about $2 more a pound but, as they say in the ads, you can taste the difference. I sure hope so. We'll be preparing a stuffing recipe from Stonewall kitchen and a squash recipe from the same. Both call for use of their jams in a jar. I asked Nan to put aside half the stuffing so I can add a little pork sausage to it and that should be very tasty indeed. The pumpkin pie came out of the oven last night. Nancy prepares a nice pumpkin pie each thanksgiving using her grandmother's recipe. You go, girl. You won't find any escargot on our menu but that is by design. Not sure if my sweetnesss will be making her famous stockpot sweet potatoes but I would encourage her to go for it. We have a bag or two of cranberries in the fridge but not sure what we'll be doing with those since Nan's mom has those covered. I get to serve up the gravy as I did last year. Let's hope this year's version is less muddy. It was just barely pourable last year. I think I added too much corn starch. I'll not make that mistake again. Seems we're short a vegetable or two so we'll look to close that gap as the day wears on. I do have some spare brussel sprouts in the fridge that I could use. We'll see.
Fall 2011 Delights
19/11/11 06:25
Dude. Where have you been? I should just hang the "gone fishing" sign out when I take a leave of absence from this here blog. Maybe next time. I guess we're in a little bit of a fast forward mode here as I sit here just a few days before Thanksgiving. My feet are cold because the floor beneath my feet is cold. Maybe we should put down a little rug beneath this chair. Even with my socks on I can still feel the chill. I have the wood stove going as the temperatures outside hover just below the freezing mark. My babies are still fast asleep and that is a good thing. My sweetness gets up early enough 3 days a week so she should luxuriate as long as her little heart desires. As for the Ev-man, he comes in late at night so is much in need of as much beauty sleep as he can eek out. God only knows that he gets up early 5 days a week for his St. Thomas gig so deserves not to at least two days a week. Besides, he's between sports and should take advantage of his free time. That's the ticket.
I have to say. Mr. and Mrs. G seem somewhat lukewarm to the idea of Thanksgiving this year. I don't know if Mr. G is just not up to it or, if he is simply trying in his own inimitable way to exercise his will in the only way he can these days. Infirmities have a way of sneaking up on the elderly and Mr. G is not without his detractors in that regard. He can swim with the sharks as well as any other in his age group and who knows what goes on in that head of his. The fact that Mrs. G didn't say much when we asked about the holiday as she and the Mr. sat on the couch facing us tells us all we need to know. It was the fear of being contrary that held her back from expressing any desire to party on with us. What scourge might befall her were she to express a contrary opinion we can only contemplate. Not sure he's a physical threat given his ambling and unsteady gait these days but he can probably still instill fear as the man of the house. Maybe that means withholding affection. Maybe that means giving her the silent treatment. Maybe that just means that he continues to be his old irascible self. What ever it is, she doesn't deserve it. She deserves better. But who are we to say. Maybe one of these days Nancy will have a little lunch with her mother to talk about those kinds of things. It hasn't happened yet but who knows. Stranger things have happened.
I continue to be enamored of my iPad. Seems like I've had it forever and I continue to find new and fun things to do with it. For example, I've been playing a lot of scrabble lately. There may be a network version available but I'm going it alone for now. It's a very nice way to wile away the hours in a challenging way. Hours might be a slight exaggeration and I would hasten to add that I'm usually good for about one game a day. I think my record is 16 and 2 at the moment but many of those games were played in the "easy" mode. Even after graduating to the more difficult games I continue to rock and roll. The machine seems to have the vocabulary but the strategy I see does not suggest superior anything. It leaves openings around the double and triple score areas that a real opponent never would. I even find myself making words that I never have before. You'd be amazed at the way you can string together letters in a way that might make sense but have no relation to any word that you might otherwise find in the dictionary. It doesn't cost me anything so why not. If the game were really "smart", it would challenge me from time to time. It can't so I go along my merry way taking advantage and looking silly more often than not. Ask me if I care.
I have to say. Mr. and Mrs. G seem somewhat lukewarm to the idea of Thanksgiving this year. I don't know if Mr. G is just not up to it or, if he is simply trying in his own inimitable way to exercise his will in the only way he can these days. Infirmities have a way of sneaking up on the elderly and Mr. G is not without his detractors in that regard. He can swim with the sharks as well as any other in his age group and who knows what goes on in that head of his. The fact that Mrs. G didn't say much when we asked about the holiday as she and the Mr. sat on the couch facing us tells us all we need to know. It was the fear of being contrary that held her back from expressing any desire to party on with us. What scourge might befall her were she to express a contrary opinion we can only contemplate. Not sure he's a physical threat given his ambling and unsteady gait these days but he can probably still instill fear as the man of the house. Maybe that means withholding affection. Maybe that means giving her the silent treatment. Maybe that just means that he continues to be his old irascible self. What ever it is, she doesn't deserve it. She deserves better. But who are we to say. Maybe one of these days Nancy will have a little lunch with her mother to talk about those kinds of things. It hasn't happened yet but who knows. Stranger things have happened.
I continue to be enamored of my iPad. Seems like I've had it forever and I continue to find new and fun things to do with it. For example, I've been playing a lot of scrabble lately. There may be a network version available but I'm going it alone for now. It's a very nice way to wile away the hours in a challenging way. Hours might be a slight exaggeration and I would hasten to add that I'm usually good for about one game a day. I think my record is 16 and 2 at the moment but many of those games were played in the "easy" mode. Even after graduating to the more difficult games I continue to rock and roll. The machine seems to have the vocabulary but the strategy I see does not suggest superior anything. It leaves openings around the double and triple score areas that a real opponent never would. I even find myself making words that I never have before. You'd be amazed at the way you can string together letters in a way that might make sense but have no relation to any word that you might otherwise find in the dictionary. It doesn't cost me anything so why not. If the game were really "smart", it would challenge me from time to time. It can't so I go along my merry way taking advantage and looking silly more often than not. Ask me if I care.
Sandy Bay - Day 2
19/11/11 06:23
I must say. The coffee is hot; the company robust; the lake dream-like; the morning serene; the muffin sweet; the air pristine; and the fishing, who knows. Who has time to go fishing with all of these other things to do. There are barbecues to manage, guests to oblige, senses to fancy, and plans to make. List. Lists. You can never have too many of them. Problem is, I don't like to keep them. That isn't entirely true. Even here, I want to keep a list of things that we found in the fridge upon our arrival that we've found eminently useful and we will certainly need to make it a point to replace before we leave this lovely joint. But I digress.
Debbie and Will arrived at the appointed hour yesterday and they will be leaving almost as abruptly as they arrived. Before they do, we'll need to make sure that we get them out to Sutton's so Debbie can peruse the goods, over to Dirty John's for a plateful of "hots", and we'll send them on their way with a kiss and a wave. Jason and Chrissy came along to too yesterday and it was lovely to see them. Chrissy is my sister's daughter. She has the world's sweetest disposition. We did not see Katey, her fraternal twin, but that is the way it goes here in the north woods. Even Denise, my sister, was off on a girl's only weekend and could not make it to the family gathering here on the shores of Sandy Bay. And Lise, my other sister, could not make it for whatever the reason. We never did get to the bottom of that one.
But Rollie, Terri, and Carli came late as expected. They had their own commitments and I think they arrived around 6. It had been a full day hereabouts with guests arriving and barbecues to get off the ground. I found the whole grilling experience just a little bit easier this year and I'm not sure why. I didn't burn anything. Truth be told, I think the fact that there was as little charcoal as there was left me with little choice but to use what we had and I might have otherwise used more. I have so little experience with charcoal. I guess it just worked out. Did I tell you that Chrissy and Jason arrived after having hiked Buck Mountain? And they did that with Jason's 6-year old daughter in tow? What were they thinking? But I think they did well and they seemed no worse off for the experience as they arrived on our doorstep.
I was happy to man the grill but felt overwhelmed by having to coordinate the rest, i.e., setting the table, putting out the condiments, slicing the onions and tomatoes, although I did make a last minute decision to offer bacon cheeseburgers instead of regular cheeseburgers. I think they were universally enjoyed. And, a spot of brilliance on my part since it was the extra something that I like to offer our guests. Something they are not expecting and something they are likely to take pleasure in. And, they did. Some had more than one which pleased me to no end. There were so many good things on the table, including sister Kathy's bow tie pasta salad, that no one went hungry. The day was too beautiful, the company just right, the food delicious and plentiful, and it just worked.
There was a lot of inside family talk which because tiresome after a while. Not that it wasn't interesting, but all too hard to quantify and substantiate. It had a seemingly souring effect on the person holding the views so might well be toxic over time. Got to let those demons go, dudes and dudettes. Got to move on. The past is the past and it is sometimes better left alone. Forget the rehashing, the gnashing of the teeth, the snarling and snottiness directed at siblings and others, and it just has to end before it eats you alive. If you didn't get what you wanted when Dad passed along, maybe it was meant to be. If another brother or sister by another mother walked away with an heirloom or two and it turned out to be your loss, it's time to move on. What is this business about entitlement? Who died and left you king? What make you think that that heirloom you had your eye on was ever intended to be yours after your father's death? I just don't know how folks arrive at these far fetched conclusions. After all, you know what they say. The Lord works in mysterious ways. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be.
It is funny, isn't it that I just don't care for the water. I like to drink it, bathe in it, behold it as I do Lake George, drive boats on it, but I couldn't care less about swimming it it. Maybe I just don't like getting wet. I don't mind being in the water but I don't go out of my way to get into it. Swimming seems to require more energy that it's worth so why bother when it really isn't necessary. Even here in Sandy Bay, where you can walk across the bay as though you were walking across a sand bar at low tide, and where swimming is not actually required of you, the effort is not warranted when considering the reward. What, to get to the other side? Who cares? That is not to say that I shun exercise. I do not. I'm a fan of endorphins and seek them out whenever and wherever possible. And I know of people who swear by swimming as the best exercise one can do. Metabolically, it is supposed to be the most difficult and demanding of all. I just don't get it.
All right, Willie. I think I have this down. I forgot to bring the plunger to my Melior pot and will have to use the filters found here in the house. I fumbled with the darn things yesterday and it just didn't feel right. It worked out in the end and I had me a dicey cup of brew. But it was touch and go there for while. I wasn't sure I that wasn't going to botch the whole pot. Well, the whole cup maybe since I make one cup at a time.
Time to sign off as the tribe is stirring.
Debbie and Will arrived at the appointed hour yesterday and they will be leaving almost as abruptly as they arrived. Before they do, we'll need to make sure that we get them out to Sutton's so Debbie can peruse the goods, over to Dirty John's for a plateful of "hots", and we'll send them on their way with a kiss and a wave. Jason and Chrissy came along to too yesterday and it was lovely to see them. Chrissy is my sister's daughter. She has the world's sweetest disposition. We did not see Katey, her fraternal twin, but that is the way it goes here in the north woods. Even Denise, my sister, was off on a girl's only weekend and could not make it to the family gathering here on the shores of Sandy Bay. And Lise, my other sister, could not make it for whatever the reason. We never did get to the bottom of that one.
But Rollie, Terri, and Carli came late as expected. They had their own commitments and I think they arrived around 6. It had been a full day hereabouts with guests arriving and barbecues to get off the ground. I found the whole grilling experience just a little bit easier this year and I'm not sure why. I didn't burn anything. Truth be told, I think the fact that there was as little charcoal as there was left me with little choice but to use what we had and I might have otherwise used more. I have so little experience with charcoal. I guess it just worked out. Did I tell you that Chrissy and Jason arrived after having hiked Buck Mountain? And they did that with Jason's 6-year old daughter in tow? What were they thinking? But I think they did well and they seemed no worse off for the experience as they arrived on our doorstep.
I was happy to man the grill but felt overwhelmed by having to coordinate the rest, i.e., setting the table, putting out the condiments, slicing the onions and tomatoes, although I did make a last minute decision to offer bacon cheeseburgers instead of regular cheeseburgers. I think they were universally enjoyed. And, a spot of brilliance on my part since it was the extra something that I like to offer our guests. Something they are not expecting and something they are likely to take pleasure in. And, they did. Some had more than one which pleased me to no end. There were so many good things on the table, including sister Kathy's bow tie pasta salad, that no one went hungry. The day was too beautiful, the company just right, the food delicious and plentiful, and it just worked.
There was a lot of inside family talk which because tiresome after a while. Not that it wasn't interesting, but all too hard to quantify and substantiate. It had a seemingly souring effect on the person holding the views so might well be toxic over time. Got to let those demons go, dudes and dudettes. Got to move on. The past is the past and it is sometimes better left alone. Forget the rehashing, the gnashing of the teeth, the snarling and snottiness directed at siblings and others, and it just has to end before it eats you alive. If you didn't get what you wanted when Dad passed along, maybe it was meant to be. If another brother or sister by another mother walked away with an heirloom or two and it turned out to be your loss, it's time to move on. What is this business about entitlement? Who died and left you king? What make you think that that heirloom you had your eye on was ever intended to be yours after your father's death? I just don't know how folks arrive at these far fetched conclusions. After all, you know what they say. The Lord works in mysterious ways. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be.
It is funny, isn't it that I just don't care for the water. I like to drink it, bathe in it, behold it as I do Lake George, drive boats on it, but I couldn't care less about swimming it it. Maybe I just don't like getting wet. I don't mind being in the water but I don't go out of my way to get into it. Swimming seems to require more energy that it's worth so why bother when it really isn't necessary. Even here in Sandy Bay, where you can walk across the bay as though you were walking across a sand bar at low tide, and where swimming is not actually required of you, the effort is not warranted when considering the reward. What, to get to the other side? Who cares? That is not to say that I shun exercise. I do not. I'm a fan of endorphins and seek them out whenever and wherever possible. And I know of people who swear by swimming as the best exercise one can do. Metabolically, it is supposed to be the most difficult and demanding of all. I just don't get it.
All right, Willie. I think I have this down. I forgot to bring the plunger to my Melior pot and will have to use the filters found here in the house. I fumbled with the darn things yesterday and it just didn't feel right. It worked out in the end and I had me a dicey cup of brew. But it was touch and go there for while. I wasn't sure I that wasn't going to botch the whole pot. Well, the whole cup maybe since I make one cup at a time.
Time to sign off as the tribe is stirring.
Sandy Bay - Day One
19/11/11 06:19
I'm loving it. Take a look at this document, will ya. As long as the music cord doesn't get in the way, I'm good. Good to go, as they say in the movies. Or, as the boys will tell ya, it's all good. Damn, son. We're hunkered down here in Sandy Bay for our second year in a row. I have some new coffee from the store we stop at in Woodstock and it is nothing less than rocket fuel. Get this. I brought my Melior pot but forgot the fucking plunger. Who knew.
I found me some filters below the counter and that did not surprise me at all. This place may be a bungalow as joints go but it is stocked to the gills. They have more silverware in the drawers in this place then we ever thought of having at home. I have a good mind to pocket a couple pieces of silver but that will just never happen. I'm a good boy. Besides, the only criminal activity I engage in, if at all, is to grab a song or two off the internet. That would be free of charge, dude. I just had to have a few Amy Winehouse tunes given her premature demise at the age of 27 so I went foraging on the net foe a flood of her tunes and it wasn't long before they popped up. Someone was good enough to post them and now they are mine. All mine. RIP, darling. So that was that. No silverware but tunes galore. Did I tell you that the WiFi here is the cat's meow? It is just party time 24-7.
Evan is not joining us here this year as he has in years past. He is just up the lake at Chingagook. Has been, in fact, for three weeks. Or rather, will be. We miss that boy. He has been gone for two weeks doing his CIT gig so god bless him. We trust that he is hiding up ok. We even talked about riding up there in the boat and seeing if we can see him having a free swim or something. We agreed that he would probably accuse us of stalking him or something. I guess we would be willing to take that chance just to get a glimpse of him. Where are you boy? Your momma and I miss you.
So the lake is pristine this morning as it usually is in the early morning. The hour is just before 7 and my darling is fast asleep up upstairs. We end up sleeping in separate beds here since the one she likes slumps in the middle with her in it. You can imagine what it does when I hop in. Sleeping apart is a weird sensation and only in Sandy Bay does it seem natural. The wind has died down a bit and the lake is now calm except for the occasional left over ripple slapping up on the shore. Boats in bays to the left and right come alive with a throaty roar and I can hear them taking advantage of the early morning to put in a few laps before the traffic lays claim to the lanes. We'll be doing no such thing until Rollie comes by with the boat later in the day. Until then, it's surf and sun forever.
Got to get me a subject. Got to purge the goat. Got to take advantage of the time I have up here and the hours that I call mine. That is, the pre-dawn hours. The hour of the goat as it were.
I have to say that there is something about the air here in the Adirondack's that is just sweet. Like the sweet sap from the Maple trees in northern Maine, the Adirondack's features air found nowhere else in the world. It is the difference you see in coming across the border from New Hampshire into Vermont and then into New York from Vermont. The landscape is no different but it sure looks different. And, the air here tastes different. You just want to suck it in by the bucketful. It won't put hair on your chest but it will soothe the beast in you. It is the smell of a fairy to the vampires as Sookie would sell it. It must be Sunday if I'm thinking about Sookie. And if it's Sunday, it is time to watch True Blood. We'll have to catch up with that show when we return to our home next week. That's what we'll do.
So the coffee is good; the company is lovely; the air is just right; and the bay and day are shaping up to last a lifetime. It's the stuff that memories are made of. That is why I try so hard to say what I have to say in these early morning tired but lively tirades. Best to get it down in writing so we don't forget. Best to chronicle it for the future so I can look back and relive the day and hour should I desire to do just that. Did I tell you that Nan's sister Debby is coming to day? How long they stay is open to question but they may decide to stay longer than planned once they get into the swing of things here at the lake. We have nothing to sell. The place sells itself. We'll look forward to seeing Deb and her main squeeze, Will. But the hour is early.
Uncle Rollie was good enough to stop by last night. As he put it, he had a choice of staying home with the dog and getting bitten by mosquito's or coming up to the lake and sitting on the bay. I told him he should have brought the dog. Not sure they want dogs here but if it's just running around outside no one is the wiser. So that is what we did. We talked about old times and things in our lives that stood out. those are the only things you remember. Whether it was Myrna's tapioca with mandarin oranges, which we agreed was better served warm with the oranges still cold, or the times Dad did this or that and, oh yes, you mean you never saw those pictures in the attic of the world war 2 casualties? He never did. And what is this business about Gramps being poor and Dad supporting him. Au contrare. Maybe that is true but it ain't the memory I carry around with me. Gramps was the MAN. He made a mean meatloaf and Rollie understood the moment I said it that it may well be why he likes that darn stuff to this day. Me too, dude. Who knew.
I do like this application on this here iPad. What's it called again? Something writing. According to Rollie, sounds like Carli is holding her own and is heading into 6th grade in the old Glens Falls High School. Good for her. She's a sweet lass and we wish her the best. You go, girl! I do hope this week to catch up on some reading. Got me some good magazines on the Pad but will try to turn the cheek on those puppies so I can see how General Custer and his charges made out in the Battle of Little Big Horn. Not that I don't know how it turned out but you have to turn the page and let the battle play out in all it's glory. And then, I will turn my attention to the book, Limitless. The movie was terrific so I'm counting on the book to hold it's own. I'm sure it will be fine. I'll look forward to it.
We have no eating strategy for the week although I did bring up a lot of vegetables to have with god-knows-what. Maybe chicken. Maybe hamburgers. Maybe hot dogs. Don't forget the relish, Johnny boy. I think it came as a surprise to Rollie when I told him that we had these great drinking parties out on Long Island in our youth. Those were crazy and wild times. There were no park rangers to move us along and very few if any regulations to prevent us from getting it on. Unless, of course, you consider the fact that we were mostly underage. It just occurred to me that we got the beer back in the day from Mike S. He had a job delivering the darn stuff but it didn't all make it to its destination. No it didn't. I think he lost that gig when the accounting just didn't add up. Where are the cans, Mr S? What did you do with the cans, Mr S? I'll tell you where the cans are. But they never asked me. They didn't know me from Adam. I didn't know me from Adam after having a few cans. That's how good it was. It's memorable now as I think back on it but there were very few memories the morning after back in those days. Just headaches. Headaches and hangovers.
Nancy is up now. She's talking to me from the kitchen but doesn't know that I have ear plugs in and that I can't can't hear a word she's saying. It can't be that important. What can be that important that she needs to tell me while I have my earplugs in? Oh yes, she doesn't know that I have the earplugs in. Something about eating too many brownies and not brushing her teeth yet. Something about when can she call her mother to get Debbie's number. Seems they had some prior miscommunication about the size of the sheets to bring. Oh, the things women worry about. I wrapped myself in a fitted sheet and slept on top of a bedspread last night so I am not an expert by any stretch. Got another curser coming into the bay now. They are taking advantage of the quiet of the morning to do their thing. It's good for the kids and good for the parents. It is also a full time job.
Sent from my iPad
I found me some filters below the counter and that did not surprise me at all. This place may be a bungalow as joints go but it is stocked to the gills. They have more silverware in the drawers in this place then we ever thought of having at home. I have a good mind to pocket a couple pieces of silver but that will just never happen. I'm a good boy. Besides, the only criminal activity I engage in, if at all, is to grab a song or two off the internet. That would be free of charge, dude. I just had to have a few Amy Winehouse tunes given her premature demise at the age of 27 so I went foraging on the net foe a flood of her tunes and it wasn't long before they popped up. Someone was good enough to post them and now they are mine. All mine. RIP, darling. So that was that. No silverware but tunes galore. Did I tell you that the WiFi here is the cat's meow? It is just party time 24-7.
Evan is not joining us here this year as he has in years past. He is just up the lake at Chingagook. Has been, in fact, for three weeks. Or rather, will be. We miss that boy. He has been gone for two weeks doing his CIT gig so god bless him. We trust that he is hiding up ok. We even talked about riding up there in the boat and seeing if we can see him having a free swim or something. We agreed that he would probably accuse us of stalking him or something. I guess we would be willing to take that chance just to get a glimpse of him. Where are you boy? Your momma and I miss you.
So the lake is pristine this morning as it usually is in the early morning. The hour is just before 7 and my darling is fast asleep up upstairs. We end up sleeping in separate beds here since the one she likes slumps in the middle with her in it. You can imagine what it does when I hop in. Sleeping apart is a weird sensation and only in Sandy Bay does it seem natural. The wind has died down a bit and the lake is now calm except for the occasional left over ripple slapping up on the shore. Boats in bays to the left and right come alive with a throaty roar and I can hear them taking advantage of the early morning to put in a few laps before the traffic lays claim to the lanes. We'll be doing no such thing until Rollie comes by with the boat later in the day. Until then, it's surf and sun forever.
Got to get me a subject. Got to purge the goat. Got to take advantage of the time I have up here and the hours that I call mine. That is, the pre-dawn hours. The hour of the goat as it were.
I have to say that there is something about the air here in the Adirondack's that is just sweet. Like the sweet sap from the Maple trees in northern Maine, the Adirondack's features air found nowhere else in the world. It is the difference you see in coming across the border from New Hampshire into Vermont and then into New York from Vermont. The landscape is no different but it sure looks different. And, the air here tastes different. You just want to suck it in by the bucketful. It won't put hair on your chest but it will soothe the beast in you. It is the smell of a fairy to the vampires as Sookie would sell it. It must be Sunday if I'm thinking about Sookie. And if it's Sunday, it is time to watch True Blood. We'll have to catch up with that show when we return to our home next week. That's what we'll do.
So the coffee is good; the company is lovely; the air is just right; and the bay and day are shaping up to last a lifetime. It's the stuff that memories are made of. That is why I try so hard to say what I have to say in these early morning tired but lively tirades. Best to get it down in writing so we don't forget. Best to chronicle it for the future so I can look back and relive the day and hour should I desire to do just that. Did I tell you that Nan's sister Debby is coming to day? How long they stay is open to question but they may decide to stay longer than planned once they get into the swing of things here at the lake. We have nothing to sell. The place sells itself. We'll look forward to seeing Deb and her main squeeze, Will. But the hour is early.
Uncle Rollie was good enough to stop by last night. As he put it, he had a choice of staying home with the dog and getting bitten by mosquito's or coming up to the lake and sitting on the bay. I told him he should have brought the dog. Not sure they want dogs here but if it's just running around outside no one is the wiser. So that is what we did. We talked about old times and things in our lives that stood out. those are the only things you remember. Whether it was Myrna's tapioca with mandarin oranges, which we agreed was better served warm with the oranges still cold, or the times Dad did this or that and, oh yes, you mean you never saw those pictures in the attic of the world war 2 casualties? He never did. And what is this business about Gramps being poor and Dad supporting him. Au contrare. Maybe that is true but it ain't the memory I carry around with me. Gramps was the MAN. He made a mean meatloaf and Rollie understood the moment I said it that it may well be why he likes that darn stuff to this day. Me too, dude. Who knew.
I do like this application on this here iPad. What's it called again? Something writing. According to Rollie, sounds like Carli is holding her own and is heading into 6th grade in the old Glens Falls High School. Good for her. She's a sweet lass and we wish her the best. You go, girl! I do hope this week to catch up on some reading. Got me some good magazines on the Pad but will try to turn the cheek on those puppies so I can see how General Custer and his charges made out in the Battle of Little Big Horn. Not that I don't know how it turned out but you have to turn the page and let the battle play out in all it's glory. And then, I will turn my attention to the book, Limitless. The movie was terrific so I'm counting on the book to hold it's own. I'm sure it will be fine. I'll look forward to it.
We have no eating strategy for the week although I did bring up a lot of vegetables to have with god-knows-what. Maybe chicken. Maybe hamburgers. Maybe hot dogs. Don't forget the relish, Johnny boy. I think it came as a surprise to Rollie when I told him that we had these great drinking parties out on Long Island in our youth. Those were crazy and wild times. There were no park rangers to move us along and very few if any regulations to prevent us from getting it on. Unless, of course, you consider the fact that we were mostly underage. It just occurred to me that we got the beer back in the day from Mike S. He had a job delivering the darn stuff but it didn't all make it to its destination. No it didn't. I think he lost that gig when the accounting just didn't add up. Where are the cans, Mr S? What did you do with the cans, Mr S? I'll tell you where the cans are. But they never asked me. They didn't know me from Adam. I didn't know me from Adam after having a few cans. That's how good it was. It's memorable now as I think back on it but there were very few memories the morning after back in those days. Just headaches. Headaches and hangovers.
Nancy is up now. She's talking to me from the kitchen but doesn't know that I have ear plugs in and that I can't can't hear a word she's saying. It can't be that important. What can be that important that she needs to tell me while I have my earplugs in? Oh yes, she doesn't know that I have the earplugs in. Something about eating too many brownies and not brushing her teeth yet. Something about when can she call her mother to get Debbie's number. Seems they had some prior miscommunication about the size of the sheets to bring. Oh, the things women worry about. I wrapped myself in a fitted sheet and slept on top of a bedspread last night so I am not an expert by any stretch. Got another curser coming into the bay now. They are taking advantage of the quiet of the morning to do their thing. It's good for the kids and good for the parents. It is also a full time job.
Sent from my iPad
Boys of Summer
24/07/11 07:33
I have to say. Have you ever given much thought to your individual body parts and the contribution they make day in and day out? I'm given to such frivolous thoughts when riding my bike for better or worse. I'm always amazed at the contribution made by my legs and how enduringly strong and resilient they are. I'm lucky to have them. They give me everything I could ask for when riding and sometimes more than I expect. I can push the limits of their endurance with a modicum of feedback or retribution even after failing to stretch before the ride. They are ever so rarely sore that I have come to expect no less from them and they do not disappoint. My arms and related upper body strength not so much. It's a package deal as I understand it and have come to expect less from them over the course of time. I would no sooner ask for more than they can give knowing full well the risks associated with doing so. I'm quick to enlist the muscle of others when contemplating lifting, hoisting, carrying, or holding a weight excessive in nature. Conditioning or otherwise building up muscle is out of the question. It is just something I am not interested in doing. I learned long ago that the investment is not worth the energy or the time. While I'm out on the proverbial limb with this subject, let me go a little further just to say that my Johnson certainly deserves his day in the sun and if nothing else a consolation prize for all his contributions over the years. Exercise notwithstanding, he has had his ups and downs to be sure. More downs than ups I am happy to say. What say you?
Nancy and I went to the movies last night in Portsmouth. It was some Italian flick called, "The Double Hour." Not a bad flick. I commented to Nancy that there wasn't anyone in the theater under the age of 50. Like book stores, namely Borders and others like them, theaters seem destined to die a natural death. As for books, the electronic media has made it unnecessary to leave your home to buy, browse, or otherwise purchase a book to read. I feel sorry for the people who like the feel and smell of books and who stack them endlessly on shelves and in bookcases in their homes. Not sure if it makes them feel more literate or if it is simply a matter of not being able to throw the darn things away once you've connected with the characters created by the author. Once his or her friends, they are now yours and not easily displaced. As for movies, you can download those as well. Some you pay for and some you don't. The paradigm itself is changing and along with it the landscape. Watches too are long in the tooth. You won't see one on the wrist of someone under the age of 35. They either check the time on their mobile phones or some other hand held device. I remember the comic books back in the 60's and 70's with Dick Tracy. He had a wrist watch which acted as a communication device. He was the product of some authors' imagination and here we are today. It works for me. How about you?
The Ev-boy is busy at the lake this week. We dropped him off last Thursday and with a hug and a wince he was gone. Gone with familiar faces from season's past to places off the beaten path where they could catch up on old times and plot future adventures out of earshot of the parents. Until they appeared out of nowhere to collect Evan, the boys he ultimately hooked up with were nowhere to be seen. Evan was nervous without friends to lean on and he wasn't shy about saying so. He had an hour to wait until he and his fellow CIT's were to meet in the large hall just down the path and round the corner. Problem was, he recognized no one and no one recognized him. There seemed to be far more girls arriving than boys and the boys that were there stood alone with their parents much like Evan was with us. The heat of the day was stifling. It was close to 100 degrees and we had all we could do to find a spot in the shade with a breeze that blew stingily at best. As is always the case with Evan, he worried far more than was necessary and we for him if only because that is what parents do. We left him in the best of hands on the shores of the Adirondack's to be a Counselor-in-Training. It is his first official paid job even though we spent more to send him there than he will ever get over the course of his stay. If he has fun, makes new friends, learns a modicum of what it means to be responsible, then his summer will be complete. And we, as his loving parents, will have done our job. See you in three week's time. Ev!
Nancy and I went to the movies last night in Portsmouth. It was some Italian flick called, "The Double Hour." Not a bad flick. I commented to Nancy that there wasn't anyone in the theater under the age of 50. Like book stores, namely Borders and others like them, theaters seem destined to die a natural death. As for books, the electronic media has made it unnecessary to leave your home to buy, browse, or otherwise purchase a book to read. I feel sorry for the people who like the feel and smell of books and who stack them endlessly on shelves and in bookcases in their homes. Not sure if it makes them feel more literate or if it is simply a matter of not being able to throw the darn things away once you've connected with the characters created by the author. Once his or her friends, they are now yours and not easily displaced. As for movies, you can download those as well. Some you pay for and some you don't. The paradigm itself is changing and along with it the landscape. Watches too are long in the tooth. You won't see one on the wrist of someone under the age of 35. They either check the time on their mobile phones or some other hand held device. I remember the comic books back in the 60's and 70's with Dick Tracy. He had a wrist watch which acted as a communication device. He was the product of some authors' imagination and here we are today. It works for me. How about you?
The Ev-boy is busy at the lake this week. We dropped him off last Thursday and with a hug and a wince he was gone. Gone with familiar faces from season's past to places off the beaten path where they could catch up on old times and plot future adventures out of earshot of the parents. Until they appeared out of nowhere to collect Evan, the boys he ultimately hooked up with were nowhere to be seen. Evan was nervous without friends to lean on and he wasn't shy about saying so. He had an hour to wait until he and his fellow CIT's were to meet in the large hall just down the path and round the corner. Problem was, he recognized no one and no one recognized him. There seemed to be far more girls arriving than boys and the boys that were there stood alone with their parents much like Evan was with us. The heat of the day was stifling. It was close to 100 degrees and we had all we could do to find a spot in the shade with a breeze that blew stingily at best. As is always the case with Evan, he worried far more than was necessary and we for him if only because that is what parents do. We left him in the best of hands on the shores of the Adirondack's to be a Counselor-in-Training. It is his first official paid job even though we spent more to send him there than he will ever get over the course of his stay. If he has fun, makes new friends, learns a modicum of what it means to be responsible, then his summer will be complete. And we, as his loving parents, will have done our job. See you in three week's time. Ev!
Forces of Good and Evil
10/07/11 06:26
This is no time to get weak in the knees. We have mold, missing skirts, mice, and mischief to contend with. That said, there is no connection like a wired connection. Am I singing to the choir here fellas? I was liking the idea of streaming movies and such from my computer to my TV some 2-3 rooms away and bought a TV with that in mind. It was a good idea in theory. That was, until HD came along and then it wasn't so easy. Thank god for my LAN connection. It made it all work. All I had to do was replace the wiring that the DirectTV guy had strung along the backside of my house with the 100 foot CATe5 cable I bought off Amazon for $5.99. Can you believe the local Radio Shack wanted 60 bucks for that cable. They nearly had it rung up when I told them I just couldn't take it knowing that I could get it for so much cheaper off Amazon. I walked out and never looked back. And now, after all is set up, I have my a' la carte arrangement that I have always wanted. I watch what I want to watch when I want to watch it and I don't pay for anything I don't want to watch. It's guys like me who will put the Warner Cables, the Comcast's, and the DirecTV's out of business.
I just don't know where that boy goes every waking hour of the day. He leaves behind nothing more than a cereal bowl when he leaves the house in the morning and we have to leave him a message on his phone late at night to find out where he is and when he's coming home. Just when you thought he was done with sleep-over's from his youth, it seems that they are now back with a passion. One can only hope that passion has nothing to do with it since he is a good looking boy and the kind of boy that girls have a hankerin' for. As his Aunt Debbie reminds us from time to time, he's not just cute. He's really, really cute. When he is home he is still his usual self. Cantankerous and annoyed. Always annoyed, or so it seems. And his mother annoys him like no other. At least I have the common sense to know when the time is right to speak to him; to ask him questions, etc. I can't say that the same is true of his mom. I just pray to the baby Jesus that he stays out of trouble and off the hard core stuff. Knowing the group that he hangs with I am not hopeful. He is old enough to make his own decisions and will live with whatever consequences follow. Fortunately or unfortunately, so will we. It may be that age-old battle between good and bad. The forces of evil versus the forces of good. Our money is on the baby Jesus. The alternative is too difficult to contemplate.
I filled the tank of the car yesterday and will give a wink and a nod to Evan and tell him to keep it between us. His mom wants him to use his own money to fill the tank. That sounds good but just how much discretionary income does she think he has? He has no job and his only source of income is what he gets from Da from time to time. Granted, Da is generous to a fault so Evan is typically flush with cash. I was in his room yesterday for something or other and saw his wad of bills sitting beneath his baseball on the table next to his bed. I suspect he either forgot it or left it there for safe keeping. Nonetheless, had he filled the tank it would have put a serious dent in that wad of bills. Gas is just so expensive these days. Just when I thought it was going down, it now seems to have reversed course. Those bleeping sheiks! We should just round them up, let the camels find their way in the desert, and put them on a reservation somewhere. We did it to the American Indians. And all they asked for was to be left in peace. So I'm hoping Evan keeps the secret between us and what his mom doesn't know can't hurt her. If he's smart, he'll be judicious with his driving and that tank will last a while. Hope springs eternal.
I just don't know where that boy goes every waking hour of the day. He leaves behind nothing more than a cereal bowl when he leaves the house in the morning and we have to leave him a message on his phone late at night to find out where he is and when he's coming home. Just when you thought he was done with sleep-over's from his youth, it seems that they are now back with a passion. One can only hope that passion has nothing to do with it since he is a good looking boy and the kind of boy that girls have a hankerin' for. As his Aunt Debbie reminds us from time to time, he's not just cute. He's really, really cute. When he is home he is still his usual self. Cantankerous and annoyed. Always annoyed, or so it seems. And his mother annoys him like no other. At least I have the common sense to know when the time is right to speak to him; to ask him questions, etc. I can't say that the same is true of his mom. I just pray to the baby Jesus that he stays out of trouble and off the hard core stuff. Knowing the group that he hangs with I am not hopeful. He is old enough to make his own decisions and will live with whatever consequences follow. Fortunately or unfortunately, so will we. It may be that age-old battle between good and bad. The forces of evil versus the forces of good. Our money is on the baby Jesus. The alternative is too difficult to contemplate.
I filled the tank of the car yesterday and will give a wink and a nod to Evan and tell him to keep it between us. His mom wants him to use his own money to fill the tank. That sounds good but just how much discretionary income does she think he has? He has no job and his only source of income is what he gets from Da from time to time. Granted, Da is generous to a fault so Evan is typically flush with cash. I was in his room yesterday for something or other and saw his wad of bills sitting beneath his baseball on the table next to his bed. I suspect he either forgot it or left it there for safe keeping. Nonetheless, had he filled the tank it would have put a serious dent in that wad of bills. Gas is just so expensive these days. Just when I thought it was going down, it now seems to have reversed course. Those bleeping sheiks! We should just round them up, let the camels find their way in the desert, and put them on a reservation somewhere. We did it to the American Indians. And all they asked for was to be left in peace. So I'm hoping Evan keeps the secret between us and what his mom doesn't know can't hurt her. If he's smart, he'll be judicious with his driving and that tank will last a while. Hope springs eternal.
Sights and Sounds
04/07/11 07:09
Well now. Here we are on the Fourth of July in the year of the lord, 2011. I'm up at the usual hour hoping the family will sleep in so as not to disturb me whilst I write in this here journal. Actually, the Ev-Man is not at home having spent the night with friends. God help us. We just don't see that boy much anymore. He's off here, there, and everywhere. All the time. I think that is what kids his age do. So we'll wish him well and try to make sure that he checks in from time to time just so we know where he is and what he's doing. Not that he'll be all that candid about the latter but we will certainly ask. That's our job. That's what we do.
It's a foggy and frightful morning here on the coast of New Hampshire. I'm just a little annoyed that it didn't storm as expected last night and my garden may need to be watered sooner rather than later. I didn't realize until last night as I was standing over the garden with light rain falling that the tree cover above the garden was preventing half the garden from getting its share of the rainfall. Who knew? It could be a warm one today so I'll be sure to soak that puppy good before the day is out. That will probably be after my bike ride. The Nan may or may not join me. She's been tired lately and may wish to stay home for a change. You do what you think is right, sweetness. I'll take in the sights, smells, and sounds of the boulevard all by my lonesome. I love the sweet smell of the sea roses this time of year. They are especially sweet when blended with the offshore breezes of salt water pushed ashore and squarely into my path by the relentless pounding of the frigid Atlantic surf. It gives new meaning to the expression "getting a second wind." It can turn a mundane bike ride into a magical mystery tour. I can't begin to tell you the kinds of things I think about on my rides. Anything to take your mind off the task at hand I suppose. I do it in spades.
Did I tell you that my babies are into berries in a big sort of way? When berry season rolls around, hang on to your wallet. Their indulgences know no bounds. We're talking blueberries, raspberries, cherries, and strawberries here. At every turn, there are berries on the table, in the fridge, and in bags and bowls strewn across the counter and in various and sundry spots in the kitchen. The timing is interesting as well. Just when you think the season for any one of the berries has come and gone, they appear in every conceivable venue like ants in a honey pot. They are plentiful and then they are gone. I do not begrudge my darlings their berries as it would be hypocritical at best since I too like berries. I prefer them in my cereal but will eat a handful if given half a chance. The sweetness is explosive this time of the year. One only has to look as far as the nearest berry festival to know this is no passing fad. Every animal under the sun waits an entire season for the berries to return in the same place so that they might know their sweetness once again. Even the memories of berries from recent seasons past carry a scintilla of sweetness and they are lodged more than likely in a place inside the brain reserved for such things. It is truly a place where dreams of all kinds, especially sweet ones, hibernate awaiting next years crop. Forget the store-bought variety. And, forget the pick-your-own places. We go to Miss Marples for our berries. You should too.
It's a foggy and frightful morning here on the coast of New Hampshire. I'm just a little annoyed that it didn't storm as expected last night and my garden may need to be watered sooner rather than later. I didn't realize until last night as I was standing over the garden with light rain falling that the tree cover above the garden was preventing half the garden from getting its share of the rainfall. Who knew? It could be a warm one today so I'll be sure to soak that puppy good before the day is out. That will probably be after my bike ride. The Nan may or may not join me. She's been tired lately and may wish to stay home for a change. You do what you think is right, sweetness. I'll take in the sights, smells, and sounds of the boulevard all by my lonesome. I love the sweet smell of the sea roses this time of year. They are especially sweet when blended with the offshore breezes of salt water pushed ashore and squarely into my path by the relentless pounding of the frigid Atlantic surf. It gives new meaning to the expression "getting a second wind." It can turn a mundane bike ride into a magical mystery tour. I can't begin to tell you the kinds of things I think about on my rides. Anything to take your mind off the task at hand I suppose. I do it in spades.
Did I tell you that my babies are into berries in a big sort of way? When berry season rolls around, hang on to your wallet. Their indulgences know no bounds. We're talking blueberries, raspberries, cherries, and strawberries here. At every turn, there are berries on the table, in the fridge, and in bags and bowls strewn across the counter and in various and sundry spots in the kitchen. The timing is interesting as well. Just when you think the season for any one of the berries has come and gone, they appear in every conceivable venue like ants in a honey pot. They are plentiful and then they are gone. I do not begrudge my darlings their berries as it would be hypocritical at best since I too like berries. I prefer them in my cereal but will eat a handful if given half a chance. The sweetness is explosive this time of the year. One only has to look as far as the nearest berry festival to know this is no passing fad. Every animal under the sun waits an entire season for the berries to return in the same place so that they might know their sweetness once again. Even the memories of berries from recent seasons past carry a scintilla of sweetness and they are lodged more than likely in a place inside the brain reserved for such things. It is truly a place where dreams of all kinds, especially sweet ones, hibernate awaiting next years crop. Forget the store-bought variety. And, forget the pick-your-own places. We go to Miss Marples for our berries. You should too.
Times are a Changing
22/06/11 06:41
It's good see Evan eating his mom's black bean salad. That boy can always use the extra protein. Stay away from the carbs, dude. They spike your simple sugars and are simply not good for you. I would do well to heed my own advice. But that bean salad is exceptional. It's even better with a little avocado added to the mix. Not the mashed variety, mind you, but sliced and diced just the way your mamma makes it for you. Don't forget to add a hint of lime and a dash of pepper and you are ready to rock and roll. As Ev's summer gets under way I have concerns that I don't see evidence of meal preparation one way or the other when I get home from work. I would expect to see diminished stocks of edibles in the fridge but that is not the case. The telltale bowl of cereal sitting near the sink holds most of the milk but none of the Cheerios he had for breakfast and that is about it. "He is eating too much fast food", his mamma tells me. Subs from the Hungry for lunch, Taco Bell for supper, and McDonald's for a late evening snack.
When we keep oven-roasted turkey on hand, delicious bread from the local bakery sitting in the refrigerator, and low-sodium Lacey swiss cheese for his sandwich making pleasure, I just don't know why he doesn't eat at home. Maybe the boy doesn't like to eat alone. Maybe he is just not all that fond of turkey. It's hard to tell sometimes. Were he to articulate his desires we might be able to accommodate him. TELL US WHAT YOU WANT. Until that day arrives, all we can do is make sure that we have a package of crackers handy for those times when he too can't decide but should darn well be putting something in his stomach. Best to do that before you get behind the wheel or so his doctor tells him. Food is your lifeline, laddie. Make good choices and you will live a long productive life. Make bad choices and you will rot in hormonal hell until the day you die.
It's funny how things change over time. There was a time when I could care less about baseball and there was a time when I cared a lot about seeing it. I had my favorite pitchers, I had players I could care less about, I had players I wanted to see get hurt being the despicable bastard I am sometimes. I think I'm over all that now. I've turned my attention to other things. Reading, mainly. Reading and doing other things on my iPad that occupy my mind and take me away from the ordinary and mundane. Baseball was never a real love of mine but I did watch it. Not sure what is going to happen when football season rolls around since I love to hate the patriots and would watch them just to see them lose. Not a laudable way to go for any sports fan I suppose. And I took great pleasure this past week suspending my DirecTV services. Why pay for all the stuff I never watch? We get a few basic channels on Comcast which we never disconnected and I download all of my other content for $9 a month. I watch what I want to watch when I want to watch it. Oh yes, and then there is Netflix. We do pay for that service. At $8 a month, not a bad deal. I'm putting the final touches on my WiFi coverage in the house and will soon be streaming my content from one end of the house to the other. How does the rest of the family feel about all these changes? Ev never watches TV but appreciates a good movie and maybe a good jail break type series from time to time so he is good to go. Nan is a Housewives follower and enjoys a good series like Nurse Jackie or True Blood from time to time so she is good to go. Popcorn, anyone?
When we keep oven-roasted turkey on hand, delicious bread from the local bakery sitting in the refrigerator, and low-sodium Lacey swiss cheese for his sandwich making pleasure, I just don't know why he doesn't eat at home. Maybe the boy doesn't like to eat alone. Maybe he is just not all that fond of turkey. It's hard to tell sometimes. Were he to articulate his desires we might be able to accommodate him. TELL US WHAT YOU WANT. Until that day arrives, all we can do is make sure that we have a package of crackers handy for those times when he too can't decide but should darn well be putting something in his stomach. Best to do that before you get behind the wheel or so his doctor tells him. Food is your lifeline, laddie. Make good choices and you will live a long productive life. Make bad choices and you will rot in hormonal hell until the day you die.
It's funny how things change over time. There was a time when I could care less about baseball and there was a time when I cared a lot about seeing it. I had my favorite pitchers, I had players I could care less about, I had players I wanted to see get hurt being the despicable bastard I am sometimes. I think I'm over all that now. I've turned my attention to other things. Reading, mainly. Reading and doing other things on my iPad that occupy my mind and take me away from the ordinary and mundane. Baseball was never a real love of mine but I did watch it. Not sure what is going to happen when football season rolls around since I love to hate the patriots and would watch them just to see them lose. Not a laudable way to go for any sports fan I suppose. And I took great pleasure this past week suspending my DirecTV services. Why pay for all the stuff I never watch? We get a few basic channels on Comcast which we never disconnected and I download all of my other content for $9 a month. I watch what I want to watch when I want to watch it. Oh yes, and then there is Netflix. We do pay for that service. At $8 a month, not a bad deal. I'm putting the final touches on my WiFi coverage in the house and will soon be streaming my content from one end of the house to the other. How does the rest of the family feel about all these changes? Ev never watches TV but appreciates a good movie and maybe a good jail break type series from time to time so he is good to go. Nan is a Housewives follower and enjoys a good series like Nurse Jackie or True Blood from time to time so she is good to go. Popcorn, anyone?
Secret Stashes
19/06/11 07:52
Nancy was all a-twitter last night. Ev had gone to the game in Manchester as had we but in separate cars but all wanting to see the St. Thomas v. Portsmouth baseball game. It was a beautiful evening with reasonably comfortable temperatures and a there was a good crowd on hand for the event. Portsmouth has been on a roll as of late winning more consecutive games than any other high school team in the nation. So it was up to St. Thomas to take it away and we didn't want to miss what everyone was expecting to be nothing less than a match-up of epic proportions. Evan was going with his friends and didn't seem to object to our going as one might have expected. He can be such a secretive chap at times and does his best to conceal his private life from his parents prying eyes and ears. I like to think that my concerns are for his health and safety when pondering such things. Nancy's interests are more personal and perhaps rightly so since he is her only son.
When we passed the McDonald's in Raymond we did not see his car as expected and wondered where he might have left it. He was joining a friend there and going with the friend to the game. Nancy texted him furiously while seated at the stadium hoping to hear that he had arrived and was sitting elsewhere in the stadium. He did not answer much to her dismay and to say that she was starting to squirm in her seat is an understatement. When we finally did spy him he was laughing and having fun with a large number of friends in the St. Thomas section of the stadium. He has just as many if not more friends in Portsmouth so we were not sure where we might find him but there he was. He was in his element. It was a rare glimpse for his mom and I who seldom see him in such settings and we took comfort in knowing he was having fun and doing what boys his age do. We did our best not to stare and wondered aloud whether or not he knew we were there and whether or not he could see us as we were able to see him. His actions did not suggest that he knew we were watching. We tried not to be obvious but our curiosity may have gotten the better of us. Sadly, with the delays in both the game before them going later than usual and the delay caused by the lightning in the area, we decided to leave by 10:15 at the latest and as we were strolling across the mezzanine the Portsmouth players were already on the field warming up ahead of their rivals. It was just too late for us.
Evan strolled into the house at 2:30 a.m. and his mother was not pleased. I tried to tell her that he had attended the game which ran late and that was explanation enough for why he was coming home so late. She knew the game ran late. She should have reset her expectations. She was worried about his traveling on Route 101 and about his being out so late. She would have felt better had he texted her but he did not. To his detriment to be sure. When I heard her raising her voice when he told her that he had had a sip of coffee I knew she at her wits end. She was tired and so was he. She could have waited to discuss it in the morning but was not inclined as such. This is the all a-twitter part of my opening comments. All I wanted to do was to fall back asleep. Thankfully, the tirades wore thin in a hurry as one might expect given the hour of the morning and my darling came back to bed in less of a tizzy but still somewhat a-twitter. There is that word again. There would be no steel cage death match-up tonight. The contestants were too tired and wanting nothing more than to pull the covers over themselves and go to sleep. Or, back to sleep as it were in my case. Not sure my darling wasn't sleeping with one eye open until her son came through the door.
On a more humorous note, did I tell you that Evan is a hoarder? Not in the traditional prime time TV sense, but in his own little inimitable way. That is to say, when his momma bakes something especially delicious and the pan of coffee cake, brownies, or some other such dessert sits idle after we've all had what he considers to be a fair and equitable slice of the proverbial pie, it is time for him to secret it away in a spot of his choosing where he can return to it at his leisure and enjoy it in his own time and without having to share it with us. Not sure what that says about his attitude about sharing in general but his being an only child has to play into the larger picture in any analysis. He is certainly not competing with me when it comes to eating leftover desserts since I could care less but his momma is another story. She is a work-in-process you might say. I'm happy to leave whatever it is for him to enjoy. In fact, I get more enjoyment knowing that he will enjoy it than I would eating it myself. I can't think of one exception in the dessert arena. What the hey, I even leave spaghetti leftovers for him and that requires some effort on my part since I am partial to left over spaghetti. Oh well. I'll end here by wishing myself a happy father's day and publishing this sucker. Toodles.
P.S. Portsmouth overcame a St. Thomas lead in the bottom of the 6th inning to win the Division Title for the 4th year in a row. But, who's counting?
When we passed the McDonald's in Raymond we did not see his car as expected and wondered where he might have left it. He was joining a friend there and going with the friend to the game. Nancy texted him furiously while seated at the stadium hoping to hear that he had arrived and was sitting elsewhere in the stadium. He did not answer much to her dismay and to say that she was starting to squirm in her seat is an understatement. When we finally did spy him he was laughing and having fun with a large number of friends in the St. Thomas section of the stadium. He has just as many if not more friends in Portsmouth so we were not sure where we might find him but there he was. He was in his element. It was a rare glimpse for his mom and I who seldom see him in such settings and we took comfort in knowing he was having fun and doing what boys his age do. We did our best not to stare and wondered aloud whether or not he knew we were there and whether or not he could see us as we were able to see him. His actions did not suggest that he knew we were watching. We tried not to be obvious but our curiosity may have gotten the better of us. Sadly, with the delays in both the game before them going later than usual and the delay caused by the lightning in the area, we decided to leave by 10:15 at the latest and as we were strolling across the mezzanine the Portsmouth players were already on the field warming up ahead of their rivals. It was just too late for us.
Evan strolled into the house at 2:30 a.m. and his mother was not pleased. I tried to tell her that he had attended the game which ran late and that was explanation enough for why he was coming home so late. She knew the game ran late. She should have reset her expectations. She was worried about his traveling on Route 101 and about his being out so late. She would have felt better had he texted her but he did not. To his detriment to be sure. When I heard her raising her voice when he told her that he had had a sip of coffee I knew she at her wits end. She was tired and so was he. She could have waited to discuss it in the morning but was not inclined as such. This is the all a-twitter part of my opening comments. All I wanted to do was to fall back asleep. Thankfully, the tirades wore thin in a hurry as one might expect given the hour of the morning and my darling came back to bed in less of a tizzy but still somewhat a-twitter. There is that word again. There would be no steel cage death match-up tonight. The contestants were too tired and wanting nothing more than to pull the covers over themselves and go to sleep. Or, back to sleep as it were in my case. Not sure my darling wasn't sleeping with one eye open until her son came through the door.
On a more humorous note, did I tell you that Evan is a hoarder? Not in the traditional prime time TV sense, but in his own little inimitable way. That is to say, when his momma bakes something especially delicious and the pan of coffee cake, brownies, or some other such dessert sits idle after we've all had what he considers to be a fair and equitable slice of the proverbial pie, it is time for him to secret it away in a spot of his choosing where he can return to it at his leisure and enjoy it in his own time and without having to share it with us. Not sure what that says about his attitude about sharing in general but his being an only child has to play into the larger picture in any analysis. He is certainly not competing with me when it comes to eating leftover desserts since I could care less but his momma is another story. She is a work-in-process you might say. I'm happy to leave whatever it is for him to enjoy. In fact, I get more enjoyment knowing that he will enjoy it than I would eating it myself. I can't think of one exception in the dessert arena. What the hey, I even leave spaghetti leftovers for him and that requires some effort on my part since I am partial to left over spaghetti. Oh well. I'll end here by wishing myself a happy father's day and publishing this sucker. Toodles.
P.S. Portsmouth overcame a St. Thomas lead in the bottom of the 6th inning to win the Division Title for the 4th year in a row. But, who's counting?
Streaming Heaven
09/06/11 06:15
I am going to die before you. What you talking about, Willis? I could get hit by a bus tomorrow and that would be that. Stop with all this self-loathing and pity or whatever it is. And yes, it is typically for you to be feeling this way after reading all that garbage on the web and having to endure another injection which leaves no taste whatsoever in your mouth unlike so many other people who have to take that drug. It's the 6-month thing which, with any luck, may become a 1-year thing and then down the road perhaps even a 5-year thing. And what, pray tell, is all this hand-holding that I have to do? Is it really necessary? There are limits to what a man should have to do under the circumstances. Yes, I know, to death do us part. I do wish, that said, that you would get on with your life. I'm here for you, sweetness. I've been here all along. I hope you feel the love. I know I do. And the next time, you should take the day off too. Just like me. We'll skip the light fantastic. Maybe I'll break down and have one of those lovely eclairs at Popover's in Portsmouth. Care for a bite?
What kind of a mother reads a book so she can discuss with her son? This is the level of commitment Nancy offers to her son. That is some tough stuff he has to read. I was looking at a few of the worksheets he had from school and I could barely answer the questions myself. Makes me wonder what kind of education I received at the hands of those teachers in the Falls. But he is three days away from finishing his sophomore year and STA and we're proud of what he has accomplished. He is not the best student but he is not the worst student either. He has always participated in sports and has enjoyed the camaraderie of his teammates in each of the sports that he has played, i.e., basketball. soccer, and baseball. We'd like to see him get a spot on the varsity team in one or more of the sports that he enjoys but worry that he may not make the cut. Then again, he may.
I am just really mesmerized by all this wireless stuff. Networking this and networking that. I used to think that I was just the cats meow when I had my ipad and I could load it all up with everything under the sun and I was ready to go. Loaded for bear as it were. My challenge was to get the movies, books, and apps all up and running with the least amount of fuss. I did not buy into the iPad 2 hype when it came out and now await ipad 3 to see if that offers anything of substance. Knowing Apple as I do, chances are it will. So I was happy loading the movies and watching them at my leisure. Now, with the assistance of the Air Video app, I stream those puppies to my Pad and life is good. No more worrying whether or not I have the room on the pad to accommodate the movies I want to add. The quality is superb and the streaming works like a charm. I even bought a wireless extender to boost the signal into the far reaches of our house. So far, so good. I even found a very decent DLNA server called TVMobili on the web which allows me to stream movies from my computer to the TV. Very tasty! Of course, you need an internet ready device to intercept and covert the signals but those too are easy to find these days. If you have a PS3, that will work. Stream away, my friends! Make sure you have the security settings squared away if you're partial to porn or you'll be getting the hairy eyeball from the mums in the hood.
What kind of a mother reads a book so she can discuss with her son? This is the level of commitment Nancy offers to her son. That is some tough stuff he has to read. I was looking at a few of the worksheets he had from school and I could barely answer the questions myself. Makes me wonder what kind of education I received at the hands of those teachers in the Falls. But he is three days away from finishing his sophomore year and STA and we're proud of what he has accomplished. He is not the best student but he is not the worst student either. He has always participated in sports and has enjoyed the camaraderie of his teammates in each of the sports that he has played, i.e., basketball. soccer, and baseball. We'd like to see him get a spot on the varsity team in one or more of the sports that he enjoys but worry that he may not make the cut. Then again, he may.
I am just really mesmerized by all this wireless stuff. Networking this and networking that. I used to think that I was just the cats meow when I had my ipad and I could load it all up with everything under the sun and I was ready to go. Loaded for bear as it were. My challenge was to get the movies, books, and apps all up and running with the least amount of fuss. I did not buy into the iPad 2 hype when it came out and now await ipad 3 to see if that offers anything of substance. Knowing Apple as I do, chances are it will. So I was happy loading the movies and watching them at my leisure. Now, with the assistance of the Air Video app, I stream those puppies to my Pad and life is good. No more worrying whether or not I have the room on the pad to accommodate the movies I want to add. The quality is superb and the streaming works like a charm. I even bought a wireless extender to boost the signal into the far reaches of our house. So far, so good. I even found a very decent DLNA server called TVMobili on the web which allows me to stream movies from my computer to the TV. Very tasty! Of course, you need an internet ready device to intercept and covert the signals but those too are easy to find these days. If you have a PS3, that will work. Stream away, my friends! Make sure you have the security settings squared away if you're partial to porn or you'll be getting the hairy eyeball from the mums in the hood.
Planting the Future
05/06/11 07:18
| It would seem that Ev has a girlfriend. Not that he would admit to, mind you, but reading between the lines it would appear so. And maybe not in the traditional sense either. That is to say, he was invited to spend time with her on Memorial Day weekend at the lake and has since posted pictures of the two of them on his Facebook page. He doesn't talk to us about her. He doesn't speak her name or sing her praises. She could just be a good bud. I was telling the Nan that maybe, just maybe, this is a positive development. Babes can distract you from your wild and wanton ways like nobody's business. Maybe, just maybe, she can turn his attention away from the negative influences in his life just long enough to get him to see the light. Maybe these influences are not nearly as negative as we may suspect. You know how parents can be. If your kids aren't talking about it, it must be bad. But, I digress. Ms. Jones may be here today and gone tomorrow. That is just the way it is. Everyone moves on sooner or later. Especially at this age. If Ev were more forthcoming, he might even admit as much. But he isn't so he won't. Waiting for my seeds to pop up in the garden is just painful. Can't say I care for going that route but I have the seeds in so there is no looking back. I even planted some lettuce-like seeds in our flower boxes after getting some advice from a friend at work. There where the soil is warmer and away from the cool temperatures that coat the evening soil like a wet blanket. Come on you little bastards. Show yourselves! Reach for the sun and get out of the darkness. Isn't that what you do? Isn't that your nature? The onion tubers I put in a couple of weeks back are doing wonderfully and I want the same for my lovely lettuce, beets, and pole beans. If only they would cooperate. What is a weekend gardeners to do? I am planning to add some tomatoes to the garden before the weekend is out and maybe a couple of other items since I seem to have the room. I don't think gardening is my cup of tea but it has a certain allure that I find hard to resist. That said, I'm not sure if the allure for me is in the planting, the nurturing, or the harvesting. Were I a man of considerable wealth, I would seriously consider hiring a person to do all of this for me. I am not so I am left to waiting and watching. All in good time. I know he prefers to study with his mom and I'm okay with that. In fact, it takes me off the hook and for that I should be grateful. It's not that I couldn't help him study. It's not that I haven't offered over the years. Can't remember the last time I offered because his momma has always been there for him. She has been rock-solid in her support. She doesn't hold it against me that I don't help him study because she knows that he has very specific preferences in this regard. He has never voiced those preferences and I don't know to this day if he would prefer no help to my help. I'd rather not know truth be told. So I find something else to do when they hunker down and hunker down they do and on a regular basis. The only time I may feel any remorse or regret is when I find myself sitting in front of the tv or doing something else that can be even loosely construed as having downtime to myself when she is otherwise working the late shift with the Ev man. The late shift reference refers to the time she spends with him after putting in a long day at the office herself. I can see the exhaustion in her eyes; I can hear it in her voice; I can see her feet dragging; and I know the last thing in the world she wants to do is spend time helping Ev study. But she does and she does it without complaining. She will not begrudge her son even one minute of time if that is what he needs to succeed. She is saint. |
Memorial Day 2011
30/05/11 07:28
| Memorial Day 2011. The lawn is mowed, the garden is not in quite yet, the garage is spruced, and I'm just a little unhappy with how the text wraps on this document as I sit here writing on a warm Memorial Day morning. I wonder if the grass seed I put down in the front yard will ever take. I was half tempted this year to rent a rototiller and just turn it all over and start over again. You've heard about the best of intentions. They come and they go. Forever un-fruitful you might say. I'll do better next year. Like hell you will, Johnny boy. Like hell you will. But all of these issues gardening and non-gardening alike pale in comparison to the hi-tech challenges of getting iSedora to stream from my computer to my TV properly and getting this new phone of ours to work as advertised. Maybe I should have read the writing on the box a little more carefully. Who ever heard of a phone that not only doesn't allow you leave a message but has no capacity to record those voicemails? What do you mean I need to have a voicemail service? I just don't know what AT&T was thinking when the designed this little bugger. It may be time to call 911. |
Lady of the Islands
29/05/11 07:29
| Dude. Let's see if we can get off on the right foot this morning. What do you say about a boy who wears the same pair of pants to school day in and day out? I thought adolescents were supposed to be fashion conscious. He never seems to even give it a second thought. You might think that people might start to talk and that might motivate him to change his ways. I don't care about his ways so much. I'm more concerned about what this says about the way his mind works. Twisted? Tormented? Or, simply hip. Thankfully, he wears a nice assortment of shirts and sweaters so much so that one might not notice that he is always wearing the same pair of pants. But we know. We've offered to go with him to sort it all out and pick up something new. Something fresh. He is just not interested and has little to say about why he isn't interested. He doesn't say and we don't ask. Not anymore. It is important to keep in mind that through the 8th grade anyway he wore nothing but shorts to school. We're not talking Bermuda, camouflage, or knickers here. His attire was more akin to something one might wear to basketball practice than school. And he wasn't alone. Jeans, you ask? Forget about it. He's never worn a pair in his life. Just not into denim I guess. You have to admit, he is his own man. Left to his own decisions for better or worse. We love him as-is. Right off the shelf as it were. |
Lovely Rita
22/05/11 07:36
Buenos dias, laddies. It's been a soggy week to be sure. I put a little seed down just a week ago to see if we can't get some grass to come in near the fence in the front yard. It may just be that the road salt from the winter has rendered the area infertile. It may never return to the once-lush spot it was but we remain optimistic. I need some of that genetically altered seed that grows anywhere and resists insects of every kind. I've been picking up seed as well for the vegetable garden and hope to get that planted this week. I've always wanted to plant lettuce so I'll put some of that in. Got me some beets and you have got to love beets and beet greens. I'll have to refresh my memory on how to prepare the greens but that will be a good thing. Betsi gave us some pole beans so we'll put some of those in as well. What else you got, dude? I do think the soil is just right now that I've dumped a good load of manure on the garden and the rain has washed it in over the course of the last week. Now we just wait for the sun. And to the baby Jesus I pray, give us a bountiful garden so that we might feed our children over the winter to come. Give us tomatoes for our salads; beans for our plates; lettuce for our bowls; onions for our salads; and gourds for our children to play with when the wicked winter winds keep them indoors. Oh yes, one more favor, if you please. Give my darling Nancy her sunflowers so she might enjoy them as she dearly does year in and year out. As for me, give me a good pair of gardening gloves so I don't get a mouthful of dirt when I bite my nails.
It was a pleasure to sit in Popover's in downtown Portsmouth yesterday afternoon. It was an even greater pleasure to be there with my darling wife and using a gift certificate that has been doing nothing more than gathering dust in my wallet over the last couple of years. It was a cool and cloudy afternoon with a slight mist in the air and Popover's offered warmth and protection from the elements. They also offered a hearty fare for those interested and that we were. Nancy had a nice tomato bisque served piping hot with a small popover to dunk at her leisure. I ordered a cuban sandwich of sorts stuffed with shredded pork and other niceties which I thoroughly enjoyed. I could have done without the chips but there were few enough on the plate that I didn't suffer endless pangs of guilt in consuming each and every last one of them. Seeing as it was late afternoon, and seeing as I had not had my afternoon coffee as yet, I order a machiatto which is a fancy term for espresso and steamed milk. It was more bitter than I prefer and I found myself wishing I had given more thought to ordering a coffee drink. Oh, yes. We had a nice house salad as well since I thought Nancy might enjoy that with her soup. My only criticism was that I thought the cafe might be better off having servers instead of counter service. I spent an inordinate amount of time at the counter ordering my food and waiting while they processed my payment using the gift card. Nancy thought there were one too many patrons enjoying what she thought were pastries and desserts that they hardly needed. Despite the wonderful selection of pastries available to us, we ordered none and returned to our car before the meter ran out. Lovely Rita, meter maid, where would I be without you. Give us a wink and make me think of you.
Glad to hear that Deb approves of Exeter over on yonder. How is it exactly that the mum doesn't understand after all these years the difference between zero and one? God help us. She must be a her wits end with children with unspecified ailments and daddy's with known infirmities. Maybe it just fills her day. Mothers tend to fret and that is an inescapable aspect of their nature. That too shall pass although one can only hope that it ends well. That is to say, ailments are treated, pockets fail to form, energy's return to normal, jobs remain intact, and boys like ours take a little more responsibility for their actions as they muddle their way through the maze of adolescents. As we lay our heads down to sleep last evening, we did so with one eye open and wondered aloud where Evan might go when he goes off to college one day. The concern is that he will go too far and his mother will never be able to fill that void. Not with gardening; not with her doting husband; and certainly not with anything else. My darling took solace in the fact that she loved her son as much as she could when he was growing up and that is certainly true. He couldn't have asked for a more loving mum. He may not realize that but he will carry her love in his heart until the end of his days. He just needs to look there from time to time to realize it.
It was a pleasure to sit in Popover's in downtown Portsmouth yesterday afternoon. It was an even greater pleasure to be there with my darling wife and using a gift certificate that has been doing nothing more than gathering dust in my wallet over the last couple of years. It was a cool and cloudy afternoon with a slight mist in the air and Popover's offered warmth and protection from the elements. They also offered a hearty fare for those interested and that we were. Nancy had a nice tomato bisque served piping hot with a small popover to dunk at her leisure. I ordered a cuban sandwich of sorts stuffed with shredded pork and other niceties which I thoroughly enjoyed. I could have done without the chips but there were few enough on the plate that I didn't suffer endless pangs of guilt in consuming each and every last one of them. Seeing as it was late afternoon, and seeing as I had not had my afternoon coffee as yet, I order a machiatto which is a fancy term for espresso and steamed milk. It was more bitter than I prefer and I found myself wishing I had given more thought to ordering a coffee drink. Oh, yes. We had a nice house salad as well since I thought Nancy might enjoy that with her soup. My only criticism was that I thought the cafe might be better off having servers instead of counter service. I spent an inordinate amount of time at the counter ordering my food and waiting while they processed my payment using the gift card. Nancy thought there were one too many patrons enjoying what she thought were pastries and desserts that they hardly needed. Despite the wonderful selection of pastries available to us, we ordered none and returned to our car before the meter ran out. Lovely Rita, meter maid, where would I be without you. Give us a wink and make me think of you.
Glad to hear that Deb approves of Exeter over on yonder. How is it exactly that the mum doesn't understand after all these years the difference between zero and one? God help us. She must be a her wits end with children with unspecified ailments and daddy's with known infirmities. Maybe it just fills her day. Mothers tend to fret and that is an inescapable aspect of their nature. That too shall pass although one can only hope that it ends well. That is to say, ailments are treated, pockets fail to form, energy's return to normal, jobs remain intact, and boys like ours take a little more responsibility for their actions as they muddle their way through the maze of adolescents. As we lay our heads down to sleep last evening, we did so with one eye open and wondered aloud where Evan might go when he goes off to college one day. The concern is that he will go too far and his mother will never be able to fill that void. Not with gardening; not with her doting husband; and certainly not with anything else. My darling took solace in the fact that she loved her son as much as she could when he was growing up and that is certainly true. He couldn't have asked for a more loving mum. He may not realize that but he will carry her love in his heart until the end of his days. He just needs to look there from time to time to realize it.
Pristine Puzzles
09/05/11 06:05
What do you do with a lad who doesn't seem to want to do anything to help himself? Maybe I should have noticed long ago that he never asked the usual questions that most children ask when they reach the age where they are most inquisitive. Why is the sky blue, daddy? Where do fish come from, pops? Why is milk white? Why do dogs have four legs and no arms? You get the idea. So when the time comes to play sports, take tests, and do all the things that young men his age do it should be no surprise that not only does he not ask questions but he doesn't seem motivated or intellectually engaged or even challenged to do better. I think he thinks that everything is just a matter of time and his time will come. He doesn't seem to understand the concept of hard work and the benefits of same.
He does play and he does compete but, in all honesty, he really just shows up and does what he can. You would think that he might consider the fact that were he to study harder, practice more often, take a run or a bike ride from time to time, that it would help him better prepare for whatever it is that he wants to do. What will he do when the day comes when he really wants something out of life but is otherwise not motivated or willing to do what it takes to get it. God only knows. And then there is the emotional detachment. Loosely translated, he seems immune to the emotional highs and lows of life. I guess if you prepare for vanilla that is precisely what you get. Vanilla. Maybe John Hogan was right. In a day when all kids get trophies despite the level of their involvement or participation it is no wonder that you end up with a generation of children who have never learned to lose. If you don't lose from time to time you never know what it truly means to win. Maybe little Johnny should have lost a game or two. Welcome to the school of hard knocks, laddie. Now go do your homework.
I'm not a big reader but I think that is about to change. I've had my iPad for a maybe a year now and I am just getting on board with the whole e-book thing. It just makes the whole experience that much easier. I take the iPad with me wherever I go and whenever I think I might have some downtime to get a chapter or two in. Just as I'm loving every minute of video entertainment from documentaries to TV shows that I can squeeze on to my device, along comes the e-book parade and I'm loving that too. Not sure why I spend any time reading autobiographies by the likes of of Steven Tyler, which happens to be the first book that I've really cracked and spent any time with, except to say that it reminds me of a time in my earlier years when I lived in and around Boston. Tyler's book is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg when it comes to what is available. My, how things have changed since I was a child.
I'm delighted the Nan is enjoying her puzzles. We're talking jigsaw here, folks. She picks them up at the local swap shop from time to time and frets endlessly that there may be a piece or two missing. She is very picky as are most puzzle enthusiasts in the selection of her puzzle. It can't be too hard and it can't be too easy. It can't be too cheap since the pieces in cheap puzzles don't fit together as well as the pieces in more expensive puzzles. There can't be too may pieces. 500 is a good number. One thousand is almost too many and just takes too long to put together. She did a puzzle recently and discovered to her dismay that all the pieces were the same size. Who knew. And the puzzle has to to a particular size so as to fit on the table in the front room where Nancy always does her puzzles. Did I mention the it helps if the colors in the puzzle are neither too diffuse nor too sharp in contrast? This is not anything that I can select for her either. I can't stop by the store out on route 4 in Northwood and pick something up. I wouldn't know where to start. She doesn't ask for my participation and I don't volunteer. I too like the challenge of a good puzzle but would not think of working on a puzzle already in progress. I finished one once when she complained that it was just too hard and felt guilty for days for having deprived her of a satisfying and well deserved finish. I guess I just couldn't bear the whining anymore. When the puzzle is finally done, we take a picture for posterity's sake.
I think Evan has left the milk out overnight for the last time. He forgot that he had left it out and used it for his cereal the next morning. He didn't even realize it until I mentioned it. I wish I hadn't. Mentioned it that is. Or, maybe it is a good thing since he will surely think twice before doing it again. The baby Jesus works in mysterious ways. Yes he does.
He does play and he does compete but, in all honesty, he really just shows up and does what he can. You would think that he might consider the fact that were he to study harder, practice more often, take a run or a bike ride from time to time, that it would help him better prepare for whatever it is that he wants to do. What will he do when the day comes when he really wants something out of life but is otherwise not motivated or willing to do what it takes to get it. God only knows. And then there is the emotional detachment. Loosely translated, he seems immune to the emotional highs and lows of life. I guess if you prepare for vanilla that is precisely what you get. Vanilla. Maybe John Hogan was right. In a day when all kids get trophies despite the level of their involvement or participation it is no wonder that you end up with a generation of children who have never learned to lose. If you don't lose from time to time you never know what it truly means to win. Maybe little Johnny should have lost a game or two. Welcome to the school of hard knocks, laddie. Now go do your homework.
I'm not a big reader but I think that is about to change. I've had my iPad for a maybe a year now and I am just getting on board with the whole e-book thing. It just makes the whole experience that much easier. I take the iPad with me wherever I go and whenever I think I might have some downtime to get a chapter or two in. Just as I'm loving every minute of video entertainment from documentaries to TV shows that I can squeeze on to my device, along comes the e-book parade and I'm loving that too. Not sure why I spend any time reading autobiographies by the likes of of Steven Tyler, which happens to be the first book that I've really cracked and spent any time with, except to say that it reminds me of a time in my earlier years when I lived in and around Boston. Tyler's book is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg when it comes to what is available. My, how things have changed since I was a child.
I'm delighted the Nan is enjoying her puzzles. We're talking jigsaw here, folks. She picks them up at the local swap shop from time to time and frets endlessly that there may be a piece or two missing. She is very picky as are most puzzle enthusiasts in the selection of her puzzle. It can't be too hard and it can't be too easy. It can't be too cheap since the pieces in cheap puzzles don't fit together as well as the pieces in more expensive puzzles. There can't be too may pieces. 500 is a good number. One thousand is almost too many and just takes too long to put together. She did a puzzle recently and discovered to her dismay that all the pieces were the same size. Who knew. And the puzzle has to to a particular size so as to fit on the table in the front room where Nancy always does her puzzles. Did I mention the it helps if the colors in the puzzle are neither too diffuse nor too sharp in contrast? This is not anything that I can select for her either. I can't stop by the store out on route 4 in Northwood and pick something up. I wouldn't know where to start. She doesn't ask for my participation and I don't volunteer. I too like the challenge of a good puzzle but would not think of working on a puzzle already in progress. I finished one once when she complained that it was just too hard and felt guilty for days for having deprived her of a satisfying and well deserved finish. I guess I just couldn't bear the whining anymore. When the puzzle is finally done, we take a picture for posterity's sake.
I think Evan has left the milk out overnight for the last time. He forgot that he had left it out and used it for his cereal the next morning. He didn't even realize it until I mentioned it. I wish I hadn't. Mentioned it that is. Or, maybe it is a good thing since he will surely think twice before doing it again. The baby Jesus works in mysterious ways. Yes he does.
Idle Rants
07/05/11 07:30
What's going down, dudes and dudettes? Mothers wait up for sons and fathers wait up for daughters. That is an immutable law of nature. Since we have no daughters, I get to sleep in like a father should. I get to go to bed while mom waits up for her son. Sometimes he comes home on time and sometimes he doesn't. Last night, for example, he did not. He didn't bother to text or otherwise contact his mom and for that there are consequences. What consequences, we're not sure. We haven't decided because he is usually not late or, if he is, he lets his mother know like a good son should. Maybe we'll take the car away for a while. Give him time to think about his transgressions and maybe the next time he'll think twice before breaking the rules. He may well weigh the trade-off's. Maybe he is willing to pay a small stipend for the error of his ways if it means getting to spend more time with his friends. God only knows where he is when he does what he does and that is another concern. And, who is he spending these wayward hours with anyway? He may tell you one thing and do another so we may not be able to rely on what he tells us. He has always been uber personal when it comes to talking about his friends and is not inclined to tell us anything. I think he actually makes things up sometimes just to placate us. He simply tells us what he thinks we want to hear. Not sure if he considers that to be a lie or not. It worries me that he does it as well as he does.
Not sure what I want to tackle this weekend. I keep thinking about the fact that I have an audiobook or two that I want to listen to and it seems like every time I go to listen to one I end up falling asleep. Same thing happens when I sit down to read a book. The book that I'm interested in is "Stalingrad". I'll get to it even if I have to listen to it while cleaning out the garage. The Red Sox are playing today and I'd like to see them lose a couple more to the Minnesota Twins before the Twins leave town. I like the Sox but am getting a little fed up with the antics of that asshole Pedroia and his sidekick Youkillis. They are a couple of blowhards who think they are god's gift to the world of baseball. I take pleasure in seeing Pedroia throw his temper tantrums in the dugout after striking out, getting thrown out at first, or otherwise getting his ass handed to him by the opposing team. He just wants to take his ball and go home. I wouldn't wish him any harm because it is too much fun watching him act like a child without a friend in the world when things don't go his way. I can't imagine what his teammates think when he goes off the deep end. Man-up, you asshole! Man-up before I jinx you with a torn ACL. I may just decide that I don't want you on the field anymore and that will be that. The fun will be over and the Team will be better off without you. I'll have to find another way to amuse myself. Maybe I'll listen to a good audiobook.
One of the more overlooked features of the iPad is the ability to listen to internet radio. You never hear that feature touted or at least not in the usual circles. But I like it and I like it a lot. It appeals to my mercurial tastes in music where I'm listening to talk radio out of San Francisco one minute and dancing around the kitchen the next while listening to Cuban salsa. Given my more recent interest and immersion into World War 2, and the thrust of the German juggernaut, I find that listening to radio stations out of Berlin, Germany, offers up a dialect that brings me closer to the language and people that I have been reading about. That is one harsh language. That isn't to say that I wouldn't like to spend an afternoon in Munich and that I wouldn't otherwise enjoy it just because I didn't like the inflections offered up by the locals.
Spending the infernal summers of my youth living next to a German U-boat commander and his petunia-planting wife, I have to say I found their accents different in an interesting sort of way. It never occurred to me to question the edge to their Germanic lilts. I also was not aware of the animosity between my grandfather and the German neighbor. Not sure I remember them ever speaking to one another. Now, I understand why. Since they never spoken anything but broken English I never found myself reading between the lines when listening to them. Listening to scratchy rants of Adolph and his henchman on recordings today, on the other hand, has left me less enthused about both the language and the people. It does make me wonder how a people, a country, and a culture got hijacked on the way to greatness and descended into the depths of hell under the spell of one man. To think that the people were willing participants to the very end. Did I tell you that she made one hell of a good chocolate chop cookie?
Not sure what I want to tackle this weekend. I keep thinking about the fact that I have an audiobook or two that I want to listen to and it seems like every time I go to listen to one I end up falling asleep. Same thing happens when I sit down to read a book. The book that I'm interested in is "Stalingrad". I'll get to it even if I have to listen to it while cleaning out the garage. The Red Sox are playing today and I'd like to see them lose a couple more to the Minnesota Twins before the Twins leave town. I like the Sox but am getting a little fed up with the antics of that asshole Pedroia and his sidekick Youkillis. They are a couple of blowhards who think they are god's gift to the world of baseball. I take pleasure in seeing Pedroia throw his temper tantrums in the dugout after striking out, getting thrown out at first, or otherwise getting his ass handed to him by the opposing team. He just wants to take his ball and go home. I wouldn't wish him any harm because it is too much fun watching him act like a child without a friend in the world when things don't go his way. I can't imagine what his teammates think when he goes off the deep end. Man-up, you asshole! Man-up before I jinx you with a torn ACL. I may just decide that I don't want you on the field anymore and that will be that. The fun will be over and the Team will be better off without you. I'll have to find another way to amuse myself. Maybe I'll listen to a good audiobook.
One of the more overlooked features of the iPad is the ability to listen to internet radio. You never hear that feature touted or at least not in the usual circles. But I like it and I like it a lot. It appeals to my mercurial tastes in music where I'm listening to talk radio out of San Francisco one minute and dancing around the kitchen the next while listening to Cuban salsa. Given my more recent interest and immersion into World War 2, and the thrust of the German juggernaut, I find that listening to radio stations out of Berlin, Germany, offers up a dialect that brings me closer to the language and people that I have been reading about. That is one harsh language. That isn't to say that I wouldn't like to spend an afternoon in Munich and that I wouldn't otherwise enjoy it just because I didn't like the inflections offered up by the locals.
Spending the infernal summers of my youth living next to a German U-boat commander and his petunia-planting wife, I have to say I found their accents different in an interesting sort of way. It never occurred to me to question the edge to their Germanic lilts. I also was not aware of the animosity between my grandfather and the German neighbor. Not sure I remember them ever speaking to one another. Now, I understand why. Since they never spoken anything but broken English I never found myself reading between the lines when listening to them. Listening to scratchy rants of Adolph and his henchman on recordings today, on the other hand, has left me less enthused about both the language and the people. It does make me wonder how a people, a country, and a culture got hijacked on the way to greatness and descended into the depths of hell under the spell of one man. To think that the people were willing participants to the very end. Did I tell you that she made one hell of a good chocolate chop cookie?
Birthday Blues
30/04/11 07:37
I played down the birthday business this year. Just couldn't get into it. I left cards unopened. I left calls unreturned. I did my best to pretend not to be interested when the family wanted me to open the presents they had bought for me. Even after opening the presents, I couldn't muster an iota of interest or excitement. What is that all about? I'm just as happy, truth be told, if my birthday goes by unnoticed. If I had to admit to feeling jubilation of any kind, it was that that bastard Casey Abrams got booted off American Idol on my birthday. I couldn't have been happier. He should have gone long ago. I can't even remember if I'm in the habit of sending cards to sisters one and all who also have birthdays in the month of April. I did send Denise an e-mail but it was short and to the point. Her response was equally abbreviated. Maybe it is just that kind of year. We're all feeling overwhelmed by events beyond our control. We all have too much on our plates. Too much to do and too little time. It doesn't help that gas prices are closing in on $4 a gallon. I think, at least for me, taking that trip to Florida may have put me over the top. And now, I just can't catch up. You can see it in the piles of clothes on the floor next to my bed; the grass that needs mowing; the kitchen that needs a good cleaning; the garage that needs a good sweeping; the fence that needs mending; and the list goes on. I just want to go fishing, drop my line overboard, and wait for the jig to be up. I don't need the strawberry shortcake that my darling wife has promised me this weekend but will put my game face on and eat my birthday cake like a birthday boy should.
If I have to point to one success this past week it would be that I successfully shut down Facebook. Evan has this very nasty habit that is generational in nature and epidemic in its proportions in that if he is on the computer doing work he simply cannot resist the temptation to log on to Facebook. Those few seconds turn into minutes and the next thing you know he has turned his attention away from his schoolwork and it just never gets done. If it does get done one is never quite certain that he couldn't have done a better and more thorough job if he had kept his eye on the task at hand and stayed away from Facebook. So I took matters into my own hands and hacked my router to filter out the Facebook site. Funny thing is, Evan is not annoyed and in a funny sort of way I can imagine that he feels that I am doing him a favor. It may take a little getting used to but he is holding up pretty well under the circumstances. Just to prove that I am not totally bereft of benevolence, I turn it back on during the weekends so he can do whatever he does on line. That would be, talking to the babes; parrying with his chums; making plans for the weekend; speaking in code so the parents don't find out about the drugs, sex, and rock'n roll; and god only knows what else. While we're on the subject of distractions, it's worthwhile noting that our Playstation died recently. While I need just such a device for streaming video to the TV, we will have to find a suitable alternative. Evan spends far too much time on shoot em'up types of games that don't agree with his mother or I. It is she, in fact, that insisted that we not replace the device. I'm on board with that plan. Ev seems to have moved on to other interests and has stopped asking the obvious question. I'm not convinced that the replacement activities are any better but they are at least out of sight.
I keep wanting to make a note or two about Evan and his frugality. Specifically, I'm talking about his attitudes about money. He doesn't like to spend it and he resists any ideas we have about buying things for him. If it costs money, he is resistant to getting it. I like the idea that he is a saver and not a spender but I'm not entirely sure where he gets that from. He doesn't want us to buy clothes for him and wears one, maybe two, pair of pants to school. He broke the glass on his iPhone recently and despite my offer to get him an upgrade I think he is just doing without it. Why? Because it costs money. Maybe he thinks we don't have any money because our house is smaller that the average house here in town and he perceives that as money issue. Not to be trite, but we just can't seem to move him off the dime when it comes to spending money. When he starts making his own money, I'm guessing that he will be a good saver. I'm guessing that he will be conservative in his risk-taking and may well not take risks appropriate to young men his age. That is to say, he may not be entrepreneurial enough to make hay while the sun shines; he may not invent a better mousetrap; he may not challenge himself to climb the corporate ladder; he may not do the things men need to do to further their lot in life. That is not to say that I want to see him win and lose multiple fortunes during his lifetime but I do want to see him achieve success however he defines it. I just worry sometimes that this frugality I see in him when it comes to spending money may well extend to other aspects of his personality. It just seems a little too crampy to me. You know what I mean, jelly bean?
If I have to point to one success this past week it would be that I successfully shut down Facebook. Evan has this very nasty habit that is generational in nature and epidemic in its proportions in that if he is on the computer doing work he simply cannot resist the temptation to log on to Facebook. Those few seconds turn into minutes and the next thing you know he has turned his attention away from his schoolwork and it just never gets done. If it does get done one is never quite certain that he couldn't have done a better and more thorough job if he had kept his eye on the task at hand and stayed away from Facebook. So I took matters into my own hands and hacked my router to filter out the Facebook site. Funny thing is, Evan is not annoyed and in a funny sort of way I can imagine that he feels that I am doing him a favor. It may take a little getting used to but he is holding up pretty well under the circumstances. Just to prove that I am not totally bereft of benevolence, I turn it back on during the weekends so he can do whatever he does on line. That would be, talking to the babes; parrying with his chums; making plans for the weekend; speaking in code so the parents don't find out about the drugs, sex, and rock'n roll; and god only knows what else. While we're on the subject of distractions, it's worthwhile noting that our Playstation died recently. While I need just such a device for streaming video to the TV, we will have to find a suitable alternative. Evan spends far too much time on shoot em'up types of games that don't agree with his mother or I. It is she, in fact, that insisted that we not replace the device. I'm on board with that plan. Ev seems to have moved on to other interests and has stopped asking the obvious question. I'm not convinced that the replacement activities are any better but they are at least out of sight.
I keep wanting to make a note or two about Evan and his frugality. Specifically, I'm talking about his attitudes about money. He doesn't like to spend it and he resists any ideas we have about buying things for him. If it costs money, he is resistant to getting it. I like the idea that he is a saver and not a spender but I'm not entirely sure where he gets that from. He doesn't want us to buy clothes for him and wears one, maybe two, pair of pants to school. He broke the glass on his iPhone recently and despite my offer to get him an upgrade I think he is just doing without it. Why? Because it costs money. Maybe he thinks we don't have any money because our house is smaller that the average house here in town and he perceives that as money issue. Not to be trite, but we just can't seem to move him off the dime when it comes to spending money. When he starts making his own money, I'm guessing that he will be a good saver. I'm guessing that he will be conservative in his risk-taking and may well not take risks appropriate to young men his age. That is to say, he may not be entrepreneurial enough to make hay while the sun shines; he may not invent a better mousetrap; he may not challenge himself to climb the corporate ladder; he may not do the things men need to do to further their lot in life. That is not to say that I want to see him win and lose multiple fortunes during his lifetime but I do want to see him achieve success however he defines it. I just worry sometimes that this frugality I see in him when it comes to spending money may well extend to other aspects of his personality. It just seems a little too crampy to me. You know what I mean, jelly bean?
Notes from the Road
23/04/11 09:39
Well now. Here we are. Finally in Florida. Temperatures are in the 90's and it's steamy for sure. We're here for our bi-annual visit to see Evan's doctor. You know, the GSD guy. We hear he may be moving north soon maybe as far north as Baltimore. Seems his wife doesn't much care for Florida. It is somewhat backward from a cultural standpoint and god only knows they love their god and religion down here. They also love their grits and porridge. The continental breakfast here at the Holiday Inn Express in Laconta, Florida, boasts those delicacies and more from 6:30 to 10 each morning. I selected a couple of hard boiled eggs and a piece of sausage and took a table near the TV. News of the day is all about the royal wedding in England and the Gulf coast oil spill a year later. The morning news wouldn't be complete without one or two stories on the price of gas that is just over $4 a gallon, the suspect future of the gasoline engine and replacements of same, and one or two examples of what that future may look like. One was an electric car and the other was about the design of an engine that was revolutionary in its infancy. Since we rented a Mustang during our trip to Florida we hardly qualify as interested parties. That isn't to say that we enjoy paying through the nose for gasoline. We don't. Oh yes, and now that we're a year out from the elections, the republican front runners are the usual lot including Romney, Michelle Bachman, and others of their ilk. What is this I hear about Donald Trump? Maybe he is what this country needs. A no-nonsense fella who can wheel and deal with the oil cartels, the barons of industry, and the clowns on Wall Street. He speaks their language. He is also narcissistic enough to run and win.
I recall clearly the look on Nancy's face when I told her I rented the Mustang. At first, it was disbelief. Not that she doesn't like Mustangs but I think it wasn't her idea of a rental that we would all be comfortable with. When she laid eyes on the car I could see the horror on her face. When she opened the door the horror turned to abject horror. She may have even wondered if Evan was going to be able to fit into the back seat. He did, although a bit snugly. She had plenty of leg room and I think while she didn't admit to it she was warming up to the car in her own way. Before the day was out she and Evan were switching places. Evan loved the car and he is not one to demonstrate emotional flourish under any circumstances. But he waxed on and on about the car and loved every minute riding in it. He wanted to know how much it cost. He was more than surprised that it wasn't much more expensive than our Matrix. I will say that the car is an easy sell to a kid Evan's age. For me, maybe a midlife crisis rental. It didn't come with GPS but it did come with Sirius radio which we didn't order but seemed to work just fine nonetheless. It had just about everything but Reggae which Evan wanted. Driving at night was a pleasure as well and the interior of the care was bathed in a warm blue glow from the instrumentation lights. I did tell the family that I liked the fact that we didn't get a fire engine red Mustang since we were already on the top ten hit list for small county cops by driving a Mustang. I probably should have thought twice about getting off the backroads so the family could see the real Florida. Northern central Florida is prime farmland and cattle ranching territory and the scenery was beautiful. Even in the 90 plus degree heat of late April.
Our biggest challenge so far has been finding a decent restaurant. There are plenty of McDonalds and similar places but none that seemed to capture our fancy or imagination. We had breakfast at the airport after running out of milk and eggs at home. We ended up eating at McDonalds for lunch where Nancy had a nice unsweetened tea; Evan had a chicken sandwich and a smoothie; and I had a couple of burgers and a fry with a small coke to wash it all down. Just a waste of a day from a culinary and nutritional standpoint. Dinner wasn't much different but at least it offered more of a local flavor. We went looking for Manatees at McCraes just before dark and ended up passing on Subway but sitting in a local Italian restaurant where Evan had tortellini's and hot rolls; I had eggplant sub half of which I brought back to the hotel room; and Nancy and I split a greek salad. Granted, the place was in a mall where we wouldn't have otherwise looked for a place to eat but the patronage for a Tuesday night seemed over the top and inviting or at least more inviting than the Subway shop which had very few people inside. Nancy liked the fact that the Italian place had taken the trouble to decorate for Easter and there were these funky little plastic eggs hanging from the ceiling all throughout the place. It was a bit much but I thought to myself, ok. We're hungry, the portions seemed more than adequate, and the aroma's throughout seemed genuinely Italian. It was a nice way to end the day. We followed what looked like a drunk driver back along 44 west towards the hotel and kept a safe but observable distance. He was having some difficulty staying between the lines. Drunk, but not so drunk that he couldn't maintain his speed. I hoped that it might serve as a reminder to Evan that drinking and driving is never a good thing and I think it did just that. I didn't want to get close enough to get a look at his tags since you just never know. We didn't know either whether or not he had children in the truck but didn't want to know that either. It was a hard luck case to be sure.
We settled in and caught the last few seconds of the Celtics/NY Knicks game where the Celtics pulled their second in a row from the beleaguered Knicks. Today we will be going to Gainesville for Evan's appointment. If we can manage to get his a haircut before he has his ultrasound that would be a good thing. I guess before any of that happens, we need to get him out of bed. So, I'm off to do just that. Let's hope for an interesting day. If there's time, we'll try to go swimming with the Manatees. It's the fresh water version of swimming with the dolphins. What will they think of next?
Wednesday, April 20th, 2011
Well now. There you have it. I'm sitting poolside here in Laconta, Florida, on a sunny and warm April morning in the year 2011. We have the day off and it feels good. Good to be free of the time constraints and limitations imposed by our grueling itinerary. Not really. I'm making far too much of it. It hardly warrants the drama. Maybe it's the chlorine wafting my way from the pool which is but a few feet from my table. Maybe it's the coffee I've consumed. The cup is still half full and I may indulge by having a few more sips if it takes me down the right path. The right path would take me to the place I like to be when I write. But, I digress.
I never think that the appointments we make will take nearly as much time as they ultimately do from our day. Going to Gainesville yesterday was just such a trip. We left early for the hour ride north and made it just in time for our noon appointment. What struck me was how poorly we had planned our meals around this expedition. We never intended to end up there hungry but that is precisely what happened. Breakfast held us over just fine but back to back appointments at the hospital left little or no room for a snack in between. It was not so important for Nan and I but it was critical for Evan that he have something, anything, to eat to keep his sugars from plummeting. Fact of the matter was our collective sugars were low and I was tagged as keeper of the meals and dispatched at once to the local Subway store inside the hospital. We took full advantage of the window of opportunity and consumed our meals in the 5 minutes leading up to his noon appointment.
The ride there took us north from our hotel on route 44 through many little towns whose architecture dated back several generations. The acres and acres of farm land in between was pristine and expansive and home to horses and cattle that fed on the seemingly sumptuous grasses that grew knee high for as far as the eye could see. We passed several sections of what appeared to be very tall and thin pine trees that had been planted in precise rows reaching back into the woods as far as the eye could see. The trees were cordoned off from the road by a barbered wire fence with warning signs staggered but a stones throw away from each other for miles upon miles. Sometimes, the design of the planting changed and the rows ran diagonally through the woods. I though it might be the end result of some odd governmental program designed for god only knows what. We never stopped long enough to see what the signage was for. There were too many things to inspect and too little time to give them the proper inspection. We were left to our imaginations and that is not always a good thing.
Evan commented often on the trees and the size of the trees and the sargossa-like material that hang from them like something out of a science fiction movie from the 50's. The road might as well have been called suicide alley for all the markers along it's length many of which carried the names of the deceased and a warning to all laying eyes upon the placards to "drive carefully". One our return trip, we passed what appeared to be the end result of a rather violent accident where the air bags had gone off and the vehicles laid at odd angles to the road while laying in the ditch. We viewed the carnage at 45 MPH and had but a quick look and an obscured look at that since the emergency vehicles were there in spades and it was hard to focus the eyes on any one activity given the flurry of white coats moving in and out of the vehicles with flashing lights. Perhaps to our relief, we saw no bodies or people with injuries that appeared to be life threatening. It may have been to time of day, it was nearly dusk, or even the the length and speed limit of the road which all combined made for a very dangerous passageway.
I wanted to tell Evan that there was little margin for error when vehicles are passing so closely and at speeds in excess of 60 MPH on such roads but I did not. He seemed to be in his own little world following the hospital visit and we saw precious little of the chatty cathy we'd seen in the previous 24 hours. We just weren't sure where he'd gone. We weren't sure what put him in this alternative universe where no parents were allowed. He goes there sometimes when hunger has moved him past any ability he might have other had to make a reasoned decision about anything much less when and what to eat. My pleas for someone, anyone, to make decision about where to go to eat fell on deaf ears. The car was silent expect for the drone of music coming from the dashboard and the occasional crack of thunder off in the distance. The afternoon shower that we had been driving through for the past hour left the road darker and more foreboding and it cast an even more ominous shadow over the weary eyed travelers traversing the distances between towns. We were no different.
The doctor stated that his specific goal was to keep the E-man on track. He has done so well. His test results were all within normal limits and that alone did not surprise anyone. It is easy, though, to become complacent and not give the proper attention to things. Dosages become important. Knowing which foods to eat and which foods not to eat is critical. Learning that it is best to make decisions before levels fall below normal and one is no longer capable of making good decisions is the way of his world. It will always be the way of his world. Even the simple act of driving demands that he consume something, anything, before getting behind the wheel. Test-taking, which I had given little thought to or about, is an activity requiring adequate nourishment and that too requires that he go into the activity with the proper nourishment. While this is the right thing to do for you and me, it is critical for the E-Man. Critical to his success and critical to his health and existence. We talked at length too about the consumption of alcohol and the deleterious effects it would have on the E-Man that any thoughts Evan might have had about consuming same were hopefully and forever displaced from his thought processes. It just isn't worth it. Evan was one of 12-15 known cases in the world when he was diagnosed many years ago and now he is one of 100 in the U.S. alone. With the proper care an maintenance, he will do fine. Without the proper care an maintenance, he is a dead duck. The Dr. told Evan to e-mail him anytime, anywhere, page him if necessary. Keep in touch was the pass phrase of the day. Talk to him. Communicate his concerns. He is always just an e-mail away.
Thursday, April 21st, 2011
Hola from 30,000 feet. I think we're at 30,000 feet. And what a rigamarole it was at the airport. Nan had to get the pat down and she made the mistake of throwing her water bottle in the trash receptacle near the security area. No sooner had it hit the bottom of the can than I heard the "Hazmat" coming out of the guard's mouth. Oh, my god. Another guard scurried around to join the first guard and he was pulling on a pair of baby blue plastic gloves as he approached the bin. He pulled not one but several bottles from the trash so maybe, just maybe, the first guard had over reacted. He looked the type. I was next in line to walk through the metal detector and I emerged without a second look from anyone much less the security guard. Evan was already seated at a nearby work station and I asked if he might look after my bag while I grabbed a coffee from a nearby Starbucks. I enjoyed the quick swill I grabbed before leaving the hotel this morning around 6 but yearned for a more potent blend. I'll have a Pikes, please. A tall in a grande cup if you don't mind. And make it snappy since I have a flight to catch and we're hoping for a hasty pre-board. There are certain amenities that go along with having a child with a peanut allergy.
Nancy asked me to make sure to note that we not get a Mustang on our next trip. While it was fun for me, it was not as much fun for those family members who had to sit in the back seat. Evan bumped his head at least once. Don't tell the good people at Hertz but we let Evan get behind the wheel on an off-highway road where he got the chance to drive for a quarter mile or so. That was good because he was loving every minute of it. It was a bit of a hard sell for Nan but she relented since it was off-road. I even stepped on the gas once just to see if that little pony had any testosterone. Oh yes, and Nancy asked me to make sure that we sit on the left hand side of the plane the next time so I have a little elbow room when typing. I don't believe I've ever typed anything at 30,000 feet so this is a first.
I wanted to go to Walmart last night at the end of a rather long day. We ended up going out to Rainbow Springs in Dannelion, Florida, where we enjoyed the weather and took in a swim. The water was so incredibly crystal clear and just right for swimming so we all did just that. We were slightly put off by the "Alligators" sign but took comfort from the people already swimming with seemingly no concern about wildlife attacks of any kind much less alligators. They had obviously never heard of the death spiral. That's where the gator gets hold of you and twists and turns until you're dead from drowning or sheer blood loss. That may have explained why there were so few people in the water but, to me, it was consistent with the number of people at the site. I figured the people not in the water simply didn't know how to swim. The fauna was lush and by all appearances it was about as tropical as it gets in central norther Florida in the month of April. We walked the trails, spoke leisurely to a volunteer walking the paths about digital cameras, complained about another volunteer blowing debris from the paths with a bloody noisy machine strapped to her back, and took several pictures of owls, fish, turtles, and the like all in their native habitat. Despite the fact that it was noon and the weather was hot outside the park, it felt temperate to us and the shade of the paths added to our considerable comfort. Nancy, in typical form, regretted the fact that we didn't ask the one volunteer to take a picture of the three of us. She was so right. Not sure what we were thinking. Maybe we weren't.
We talked too about the fact that despite having spent time with the doctor in Gainesville, we still were not on the right plan with Evan. We should have, and I suppose I have a regret or two from time to time as well, brought something for the E-man to eat since snacks are good and as parents we need to enforce the 2 hour rule. That is to say, he should have a bite to eat every two hours. So what did we bring. Notta. We could sense that he was going downhill when he began to act irascible and intransigent. Time to grab to eat, Nan. We stopped down the road from the Springs at a road/riverside place called the Blue Gator. The place boasted of a nice deck, large wooden tables, a riverside marina that was obscured by the deck that ran parallel to the river, and an overall Jimmy Buffet type kind of place. Evan was ready to eat and so were we. He hates to ask about peanuts and I suggested to him that he get used to it. He'd be doing it for the rest of his life so he might as well start now. He ordered chicken wings; I ordered a Reuben and lamented the fact that this was the second Reuben I'd ordered in Florida where they didn't have a halfway decent mustard to go along with it, and Nancy ordered a nice salad with sliced chicken. Oh, and we'll have iced tea for the wife and I. What, no lemon to go with the iced tree? Jesus. Dunkin Donuts doesn't have a decent dark roast on the menu. I can't find a decent mustard anywhere, and not only that but it's hard to find a decent coffee shop.
I picked up a camera connection kit at a local Walmart last night. That place was huge. And it was a zoo to boot. I was looking at one group of yours while standing in the checkout line and commented to Evan that if he hung with that group he'd be smoking crack cocaine in no time. I'm not usually a very judgmental guy but they were pure Florida-style trailer trash. Evan looked at then with interest all the same perhaps never having seen such dereliction in his sixteen years on the planet. Perhaps it gave him comfort that we as his parents had made the right decisions along the way about schools, etc. We have no control over the friends that he chooses but we have some sense as to who they might be and we're not overly concerned with his choices to date. We rushed back to the hotel with our bag of pretzels, our other little doo-dads and tuned into Fox to see who was eliminated this week from American Idol. I guess it's finally time to say good bye to Stefano. See ya, dude. It was fun while it lasted. The love of my life was Pia and she got booted long ago. Don't know why I even care anymore. and, Beard Boy can't get booted soon enough.
Did I mention that the iced teas at the Blue Gator were refillable? And, did I mention that Evan and nancy shared a rather large portion os sweet potato fries? And, what about those bikers. We're not even sure they had anything to eat. We do know they shared a pitcher of two of beer before hitting the highway on their bikes. God help us. Where are the Florida State police when you need them? Anyhow, I'm running our of gas in this writing thingy as I knew I would sooner or later. I've cranked out quite a few paragraphs during our stay here so I'm good to go. We'll all be happy to be home although the pilot tells us that it's 39 degrees back in Manchester. Brrr. That is going to be hard to take after being in 90-degree temps during the week. Maybe we'll get a Mustang convertible next time so headroom won't be a problem. God love the ponies.
I recall clearly the look on Nancy's face when I told her I rented the Mustang. At first, it was disbelief. Not that she doesn't like Mustangs but I think it wasn't her idea of a rental that we would all be comfortable with. When she laid eyes on the car I could see the horror on her face. When she opened the door the horror turned to abject horror. She may have even wondered if Evan was going to be able to fit into the back seat. He did, although a bit snugly. She had plenty of leg room and I think while she didn't admit to it she was warming up to the car in her own way. Before the day was out she and Evan were switching places. Evan loved the car and he is not one to demonstrate emotional flourish under any circumstances. But he waxed on and on about the car and loved every minute riding in it. He wanted to know how much it cost. He was more than surprised that it wasn't much more expensive than our Matrix. I will say that the car is an easy sell to a kid Evan's age. For me, maybe a midlife crisis rental. It didn't come with GPS but it did come with Sirius radio which we didn't order but seemed to work just fine nonetheless. It had just about everything but Reggae which Evan wanted. Driving at night was a pleasure as well and the interior of the care was bathed in a warm blue glow from the instrumentation lights. I did tell the family that I liked the fact that we didn't get a fire engine red Mustang since we were already on the top ten hit list for small county cops by driving a Mustang. I probably should have thought twice about getting off the backroads so the family could see the real Florida. Northern central Florida is prime farmland and cattle ranching territory and the scenery was beautiful. Even in the 90 plus degree heat of late April.
Our biggest challenge so far has been finding a decent restaurant. There are plenty of McDonalds and similar places but none that seemed to capture our fancy or imagination. We had breakfast at the airport after running out of milk and eggs at home. We ended up eating at McDonalds for lunch where Nancy had a nice unsweetened tea; Evan had a chicken sandwich and a smoothie; and I had a couple of burgers and a fry with a small coke to wash it all down. Just a waste of a day from a culinary and nutritional standpoint. Dinner wasn't much different but at least it offered more of a local flavor. We went looking for Manatees at McCraes just before dark and ended up passing on Subway but sitting in a local Italian restaurant where Evan had tortellini's and hot rolls; I had eggplant sub half of which I brought back to the hotel room; and Nancy and I split a greek salad. Granted, the place was in a mall where we wouldn't have otherwise looked for a place to eat but the patronage for a Tuesday night seemed over the top and inviting or at least more inviting than the Subway shop which had very few people inside. Nancy liked the fact that the Italian place had taken the trouble to decorate for Easter and there were these funky little plastic eggs hanging from the ceiling all throughout the place. It was a bit much but I thought to myself, ok. We're hungry, the portions seemed more than adequate, and the aroma's throughout seemed genuinely Italian. It was a nice way to end the day. We followed what looked like a drunk driver back along 44 west towards the hotel and kept a safe but observable distance. He was having some difficulty staying between the lines. Drunk, but not so drunk that he couldn't maintain his speed. I hoped that it might serve as a reminder to Evan that drinking and driving is never a good thing and I think it did just that. I didn't want to get close enough to get a look at his tags since you just never know. We didn't know either whether or not he had children in the truck but didn't want to know that either. It was a hard luck case to be sure.
We settled in and caught the last few seconds of the Celtics/NY Knicks game where the Celtics pulled their second in a row from the beleaguered Knicks. Today we will be going to Gainesville for Evan's appointment. If we can manage to get his a haircut before he has his ultrasound that would be a good thing. I guess before any of that happens, we need to get him out of bed. So, I'm off to do just that. Let's hope for an interesting day. If there's time, we'll try to go swimming with the Manatees. It's the fresh water version of swimming with the dolphins. What will they think of next?
Wednesday, April 20th, 2011
Well now. There you have it. I'm sitting poolside here in Laconta, Florida, on a sunny and warm April morning in the year 2011. We have the day off and it feels good. Good to be free of the time constraints and limitations imposed by our grueling itinerary. Not really. I'm making far too much of it. It hardly warrants the drama. Maybe it's the chlorine wafting my way from the pool which is but a few feet from my table. Maybe it's the coffee I've consumed. The cup is still half full and I may indulge by having a few more sips if it takes me down the right path. The right path would take me to the place I like to be when I write. But, I digress.
I never think that the appointments we make will take nearly as much time as they ultimately do from our day. Going to Gainesville yesterday was just such a trip. We left early for the hour ride north and made it just in time for our noon appointment. What struck me was how poorly we had planned our meals around this expedition. We never intended to end up there hungry but that is precisely what happened. Breakfast held us over just fine but back to back appointments at the hospital left little or no room for a snack in between. It was not so important for Nan and I but it was critical for Evan that he have something, anything, to eat to keep his sugars from plummeting. Fact of the matter was our collective sugars were low and I was tagged as keeper of the meals and dispatched at once to the local Subway store inside the hospital. We took full advantage of the window of opportunity and consumed our meals in the 5 minutes leading up to his noon appointment.
The ride there took us north from our hotel on route 44 through many little towns whose architecture dated back several generations. The acres and acres of farm land in between was pristine and expansive and home to horses and cattle that fed on the seemingly sumptuous grasses that grew knee high for as far as the eye could see. We passed several sections of what appeared to be very tall and thin pine trees that had been planted in precise rows reaching back into the woods as far as the eye could see. The trees were cordoned off from the road by a barbered wire fence with warning signs staggered but a stones throw away from each other for miles upon miles. Sometimes, the design of the planting changed and the rows ran diagonally through the woods. I though it might be the end result of some odd governmental program designed for god only knows what. We never stopped long enough to see what the signage was for. There were too many things to inspect and too little time to give them the proper inspection. We were left to our imaginations and that is not always a good thing.
Evan commented often on the trees and the size of the trees and the sargossa-like material that hang from them like something out of a science fiction movie from the 50's. The road might as well have been called suicide alley for all the markers along it's length many of which carried the names of the deceased and a warning to all laying eyes upon the placards to "drive carefully". One our return trip, we passed what appeared to be the end result of a rather violent accident where the air bags had gone off and the vehicles laid at odd angles to the road while laying in the ditch. We viewed the carnage at 45 MPH and had but a quick look and an obscured look at that since the emergency vehicles were there in spades and it was hard to focus the eyes on any one activity given the flurry of white coats moving in and out of the vehicles with flashing lights. Perhaps to our relief, we saw no bodies or people with injuries that appeared to be life threatening. It may have been to time of day, it was nearly dusk, or even the the length and speed limit of the road which all combined made for a very dangerous passageway.
I wanted to tell Evan that there was little margin for error when vehicles are passing so closely and at speeds in excess of 60 MPH on such roads but I did not. He seemed to be in his own little world following the hospital visit and we saw precious little of the chatty cathy we'd seen in the previous 24 hours. We just weren't sure where he'd gone. We weren't sure what put him in this alternative universe where no parents were allowed. He goes there sometimes when hunger has moved him past any ability he might have other had to make a reasoned decision about anything much less when and what to eat. My pleas for someone, anyone, to make decision about where to go to eat fell on deaf ears. The car was silent expect for the drone of music coming from the dashboard and the occasional crack of thunder off in the distance. The afternoon shower that we had been driving through for the past hour left the road darker and more foreboding and it cast an even more ominous shadow over the weary eyed travelers traversing the distances between towns. We were no different.
The doctor stated that his specific goal was to keep the E-man on track. He has done so well. His test results were all within normal limits and that alone did not surprise anyone. It is easy, though, to become complacent and not give the proper attention to things. Dosages become important. Knowing which foods to eat and which foods not to eat is critical. Learning that it is best to make decisions before levels fall below normal and one is no longer capable of making good decisions is the way of his world. It will always be the way of his world. Even the simple act of driving demands that he consume something, anything, before getting behind the wheel. Test-taking, which I had given little thought to or about, is an activity requiring adequate nourishment and that too requires that he go into the activity with the proper nourishment. While this is the right thing to do for you and me, it is critical for the E-Man. Critical to his success and critical to his health and existence. We talked at length too about the consumption of alcohol and the deleterious effects it would have on the E-Man that any thoughts Evan might have had about consuming same were hopefully and forever displaced from his thought processes. It just isn't worth it. Evan was one of 12-15 known cases in the world when he was diagnosed many years ago and now he is one of 100 in the U.S. alone. With the proper care an maintenance, he will do fine. Without the proper care an maintenance, he is a dead duck. The Dr. told Evan to e-mail him anytime, anywhere, page him if necessary. Keep in touch was the pass phrase of the day. Talk to him. Communicate his concerns. He is always just an e-mail away.
Thursday, April 21st, 2011
Hola from 30,000 feet. I think we're at 30,000 feet. And what a rigamarole it was at the airport. Nan had to get the pat down and she made the mistake of throwing her water bottle in the trash receptacle near the security area. No sooner had it hit the bottom of the can than I heard the "Hazmat" coming out of the guard's mouth. Oh, my god. Another guard scurried around to join the first guard and he was pulling on a pair of baby blue plastic gloves as he approached the bin. He pulled not one but several bottles from the trash so maybe, just maybe, the first guard had over reacted. He looked the type. I was next in line to walk through the metal detector and I emerged without a second look from anyone much less the security guard. Evan was already seated at a nearby work station and I asked if he might look after my bag while I grabbed a coffee from a nearby Starbucks. I enjoyed the quick swill I grabbed before leaving the hotel this morning around 6 but yearned for a more potent blend. I'll have a Pikes, please. A tall in a grande cup if you don't mind. And make it snappy since I have a flight to catch and we're hoping for a hasty pre-board. There are certain amenities that go along with having a child with a peanut allergy.
Nancy asked me to make sure to note that we not get a Mustang on our next trip. While it was fun for me, it was not as much fun for those family members who had to sit in the back seat. Evan bumped his head at least once. Don't tell the good people at Hertz but we let Evan get behind the wheel on an off-highway road where he got the chance to drive for a quarter mile or so. That was good because he was loving every minute of it. It was a bit of a hard sell for Nan but she relented since it was off-road. I even stepped on the gas once just to see if that little pony had any testosterone. Oh yes, and Nancy asked me to make sure that we sit on the left hand side of the plane the next time so I have a little elbow room when typing. I don't believe I've ever typed anything at 30,000 feet so this is a first.
I wanted to go to Walmart last night at the end of a rather long day. We ended up going out to Rainbow Springs in Dannelion, Florida, where we enjoyed the weather and took in a swim. The water was so incredibly crystal clear and just right for swimming so we all did just that. We were slightly put off by the "Alligators" sign but took comfort from the people already swimming with seemingly no concern about wildlife attacks of any kind much less alligators. They had obviously never heard of the death spiral. That's where the gator gets hold of you and twists and turns until you're dead from drowning or sheer blood loss. That may have explained why there were so few people in the water but, to me, it was consistent with the number of people at the site. I figured the people not in the water simply didn't know how to swim. The fauna was lush and by all appearances it was about as tropical as it gets in central norther Florida in the month of April. We walked the trails, spoke leisurely to a volunteer walking the paths about digital cameras, complained about another volunteer blowing debris from the paths with a bloody noisy machine strapped to her back, and took several pictures of owls, fish, turtles, and the like all in their native habitat. Despite the fact that it was noon and the weather was hot outside the park, it felt temperate to us and the shade of the paths added to our considerable comfort. Nancy, in typical form, regretted the fact that we didn't ask the one volunteer to take a picture of the three of us. She was so right. Not sure what we were thinking. Maybe we weren't.
We talked too about the fact that despite having spent time with the doctor in Gainesville, we still were not on the right plan with Evan. We should have, and I suppose I have a regret or two from time to time as well, brought something for the E-man to eat since snacks are good and as parents we need to enforce the 2 hour rule. That is to say, he should have a bite to eat every two hours. So what did we bring. Notta. We could sense that he was going downhill when he began to act irascible and intransigent. Time to grab to eat, Nan. We stopped down the road from the Springs at a road/riverside place called the Blue Gator. The place boasted of a nice deck, large wooden tables, a riverside marina that was obscured by the deck that ran parallel to the river, and an overall Jimmy Buffet type kind of place. Evan was ready to eat and so were we. He hates to ask about peanuts and I suggested to him that he get used to it. He'd be doing it for the rest of his life so he might as well start now. He ordered chicken wings; I ordered a Reuben and lamented the fact that this was the second Reuben I'd ordered in Florida where they didn't have a halfway decent mustard to go along with it, and Nancy ordered a nice salad with sliced chicken. Oh, and we'll have iced tea for the wife and I. What, no lemon to go with the iced tree? Jesus. Dunkin Donuts doesn't have a decent dark roast on the menu. I can't find a decent mustard anywhere, and not only that but it's hard to find a decent coffee shop.
I picked up a camera connection kit at a local Walmart last night. That place was huge. And it was a zoo to boot. I was looking at one group of yours while standing in the checkout line and commented to Evan that if he hung with that group he'd be smoking crack cocaine in no time. I'm not usually a very judgmental guy but they were pure Florida-style trailer trash. Evan looked at then with interest all the same perhaps never having seen such dereliction in his sixteen years on the planet. Perhaps it gave him comfort that we as his parents had made the right decisions along the way about schools, etc. We have no control over the friends that he chooses but we have some sense as to who they might be and we're not overly concerned with his choices to date. We rushed back to the hotel with our bag of pretzels, our other little doo-dads and tuned into Fox to see who was eliminated this week from American Idol. I guess it's finally time to say good bye to Stefano. See ya, dude. It was fun while it lasted. The love of my life was Pia and she got booted long ago. Don't know why I even care anymore. and, Beard Boy can't get booted soon enough.
Did I mention that the iced teas at the Blue Gator were refillable? And, did I mention that Evan and nancy shared a rather large portion os sweet potato fries? And, what about those bikers. We're not even sure they had anything to eat. We do know they shared a pitcher of two of beer before hitting the highway on their bikes. God help us. Where are the Florida State police when you need them? Anyhow, I'm running our of gas in this writing thingy as I knew I would sooner or later. I've cranked out quite a few paragraphs during our stay here so I'm good to go. We'll all be happy to be home although the pilot tells us that it's 39 degrees back in Manchester. Brrr. That is going to be hard to take after being in 90-degree temps during the week. Maybe we'll get a Mustang convertible next time so headroom won't be a problem. God love the ponies.
Seventh Heaven
23/04/11 07:44
There you have it. We survived the flight back from Florida. All of that angst over what? It was bumpy from time to time but certainly not enough to require that you keep you seat belts on all the time. We amused ourselves to pass the time by listening to iPods, iPhones, and iPads. All devices designed to distract, enlighten, delight, and otherwise pass the time. I loaded my iPad for bear when we left by making sure that I had audiobooks to listen to, music to enjoy, movies to watch, and books to read. The Pad was so popular that I had a hard time keeping it in my possession and away from Evan and Nancy. Not that I didn't want to share but surely they brought their own toys. On the other hand, I was pleased that the Pad was universally popular. It is living up to its reputation as a phenominal device. The first of its kind for sure. It has turned out to be so incredibly popular that notebook and laptop makers have begun to take notice as it is putting serious downward pressure on sales of all such devices. It is still king of the devices even if it doesn't have flash. Any worries I had when I first purchased it about Nancy not taking notice were short lived. She doesn't use it as much as I do but you risk bodily harm when you try to extract it from her when she's reading her mail, checking her sites, or otherwise enjoying the iPad experience. I do wish that I had purchased one with more memory but I do not regret not getting the 3G model as WiFi does the trick for me. With WiFi being more and more accessible while on the road, it is not an issue. Not that I take the device out of the house all that much but when I do I like to haver access. Lastly, you can't find a hotel, coffee shop, or laundromat in the whole of the land that doesn't have WiFi these days so you are simply good to go. Or, as in the words of Evan's generation, it's all good.
Looks like we're in for a rainy easter weekend, boys and girls. Evan will have no baseball practice today. Just to take the chill off, I may fire up the wood stove today as temperatures are presently in the 30's. Did I tell you that Da took a spill? So Mrs G says. That was the bad news part of the good and bad news on the Da front. The god news is that he has come out of his months long funk and is his usual self. That is good. When we were enjoying our trip to Florida and going nowhere in particular, we would always quote Da's favorite expression. "Nobody's chasing us", we would chime. That is so true and worth saying out loud. But, in all seriousness, falling is not good and certainly not good for someone who has spent the better part of the last few months in a stupor of sorts. And you just don't hit the ground running after months on the lam, physically speaking. Take it slow, Da. A little bit at a time. Walk a little further each day. Do a little more activity each and every day. Remember as well that your significant other needs time to adjust. Time to adjust her schedules. Time to adjust her expectations. Time to adjust to you. But we have a prayer into the baby Jesus this fine Easter weekend that you will do just fine. The fall was a wake-up call. You were awakened to your limitations and capabilities. You were awakened to your frailties and facilities which, once diminished, are now awakening and seeking their own accord. Life is too short to try to do it all in one day so take your time. We'll be there to lift you up when you fall. It's your job to see that you stay on your feet. Do that for us. More importantly, do that for yourself.
The Ev man was no sooner home than he was off to hanging with his buds. He took a quick shower to shake off the cobwebs and left the house without so much as a wave of the hand. Next thing we knew he was texting his momma that he was at a friend's house. Then he was off to the movies. He wouldn't divulge which movie, of course. We worried as we always do that he may not be eating properly. We worried that he was hanging with people that we had concerns about. And who is Katia? He sends her quite a few texts and she seems to have replaced Molly in the squeeze box category. Who knows who these people are? We've never met them. Do they sport nose rings and tattoos on their buttocks? Maybe they wear thongs and hip hugging jeans that reveal same. They don't call so we don't even know what they sound like. Are they polite? Do they slur their speech and make a mockery of the english language? Are we talking trailer trash here? Not that we should care since his life is his own but inquiring minds like to know. Women have a way of taking you down a particular path. I know. I was lucky to meet and marry one of the better ones. And, of course, you want the best for your children. The best that life can give them. I guess I'll end this tirade with a comment about taking showers on the road. Ev was feeling liberated and lucky at the hotel because he could take a shower as hot and as long as his little heart desired. And that he did. He must have been in there for more than a half hour. We simply let him luxuriate. We asked no questions. We didn't knock and we didn't holler out for him. We knew he was in seventh heaven. We just let him be.
Looks like we're in for a rainy easter weekend, boys and girls. Evan will have no baseball practice today. Just to take the chill off, I may fire up the wood stove today as temperatures are presently in the 30's. Did I tell you that Da took a spill? So Mrs G says. That was the bad news part of the good and bad news on the Da front. The god news is that he has come out of his months long funk and is his usual self. That is good. When we were enjoying our trip to Florida and going nowhere in particular, we would always quote Da's favorite expression. "Nobody's chasing us", we would chime. That is so true and worth saying out loud. But, in all seriousness, falling is not good and certainly not good for someone who has spent the better part of the last few months in a stupor of sorts. And you just don't hit the ground running after months on the lam, physically speaking. Take it slow, Da. A little bit at a time. Walk a little further each day. Do a little more activity each and every day. Remember as well that your significant other needs time to adjust. Time to adjust her schedules. Time to adjust her expectations. Time to adjust to you. But we have a prayer into the baby Jesus this fine Easter weekend that you will do just fine. The fall was a wake-up call. You were awakened to your limitations and capabilities. You were awakened to your frailties and facilities which, once diminished, are now awakening and seeking their own accord. Life is too short to try to do it all in one day so take your time. We'll be there to lift you up when you fall. It's your job to see that you stay on your feet. Do that for us. More importantly, do that for yourself.
The Ev man was no sooner home than he was off to hanging with his buds. He took a quick shower to shake off the cobwebs and left the house without so much as a wave of the hand. Next thing we knew he was texting his momma that he was at a friend's house. Then he was off to the movies. He wouldn't divulge which movie, of course. We worried as we always do that he may not be eating properly. We worried that he was hanging with people that we had concerns about. And who is Katia? He sends her quite a few texts and she seems to have replaced Molly in the squeeze box category. Who knows who these people are? We've never met them. Do they sport nose rings and tattoos on their buttocks? Maybe they wear thongs and hip hugging jeans that reveal same. They don't call so we don't even know what they sound like. Are they polite? Do they slur their speech and make a mockery of the english language? Are we talking trailer trash here? Not that we should care since his life is his own but inquiring minds like to know. Women have a way of taking you down a particular path. I know. I was lucky to meet and marry one of the better ones. And, of course, you want the best for your children. The best that life can give them. I guess I'll end this tirade with a comment about taking showers on the road. Ev was feeling liberated and lucky at the hotel because he could take a shower as hot and as long as his little heart desired. And that he did. He must have been in there for more than a half hour. We simply let him luxuriate. We asked no questions. We didn't knock and we didn't holler out for him. We knew he was in seventh heaven. We just let him be.
Come and Get it
17/04/11 07:37
Every time I make pancakes these days I think of the camp at Lake George and gramps. The mornings in my youth when he would make pancakes and sausages for the kids on a Sunday morning. He'd give a yell and we'd come running from wherever we were. More often than not we were still in bed although you might have found me far from shore fishing in the still waters of Katskill Bay. I liked to get out on the lake before the morning winds came along and moved me off my favorite spots. That may have been a stone's throw off the Trout Pavilion dock or further along the shore maybe as far north as Elizabeth Island. By 10 in the morning, activity on the lake was stirring more vigorously and there were simply too many distractions to continue. Besides, everyone was probably up and sitting around the kitchen table back at camp and I'd miss breakfast if I didn't hurry. Gramps was willing to keep making the cakes as long as there were people willing and eager to consume them. The griddle crackled nonstop with bacon and or sausage and the smell of coffee was ever present. I had little interest in coffee as a child and that is probably true of most children. In fact, since it was an adult beverage and we children thought anything they did wasn't cool, drinking the darn stuff had even less appeal. All these years later I can close my eyes and smell the smells, hear the voices, and feel the love that we all felt on those idyllic mornings on the lake. The pancakes weren't bad either.
One thing I remember is that gramps always made pancakes with Bisquick and buttermilk. The secret was using curdled buttermilk if you happened to have it. Well, yesterday I just happened to have some. I thought to myself, this may be interesting. Ev is getting tired of eating oatmeal since he has that every morning of the week. Nan makes him baked oatmeal on weekends when she is so inclined and he certainly enjoys that dish. Who wouldn't? It is chock full of raisins, brown sugar, and everything you shouldn't ply your teenager with when he or she sits down to eat in the morning. And then there are eggs. He was on an eggs and toast kick for quite some time and that too got old. So when I got the idea to make some cakes for him I gladly grabbed the Bisquick, buttermilk, eggs, bowl and whisk and I was off and running. In the middle of assembling all of the parts, I decided that rather than just slicing bananas, apples, and raisins on to the pancakes as they neared perfection prior to being flipped, I would throw the fruit directly on to the griddle with a little butter and cinnamon and let them soften up and caramelize first. Then, and only then, was the mixture ready to be thrown on to the not-yet-cooked cakes. I gave the batter an extra bit of whipping just to introduce the right number of air bubbles to ensure fluffy and robust cakes and poured just enough to make 4 large cakes. As the bubbles appeared and multiplied the time was now or never for the introduction of the caramelized concoction. Those babies were just de-lish! With a few pats of butter thrown randomly across the expanse of the luscious cakes, they were ready to be served. Syrup was not necessary. A cold glass of milk, on the other hand, was. Rachel Ray, eat your heart out!
In retrospect, I'm glad we replaced our old refrigerator last year. The new one is quite a bit larger. So large, in fact, that I have trouble finding what I'm looking for from time to time. So large, that I will occasionally leave empty containers in there rather than leave them on the counter. So large that food that is out of sight sometimes goes bad and I only discover it when I put my hands into a drawer and find that items that used to be solid have turned soft or even gel-like. The refrigerator is so efficient and so cold that not even the most putrified of poultry, parsley, or parsnips come to our attention when the door is opened. One time, we had so many dirty dishes on the counter that I couldn't find a spot for one in-hand, I opened the refrigerator and in it went. It's a shame that Evan doesn't care for leftovers by and large since we have leftovers in spades just within reach inside the fridge. There are chicken enchilada's, real mashed potatoes, plenty of cottage cheese, sliced pineapple, and other things that he could readily consume if only he had the desire. But you have to love the LED lights, the doors that open left and right, and the freezer drawer that opens on the bottom half of the unit. Surprisingly, that took very little getting used to compared to our side-by-side refrigerator in days of old. We just didn't know what we were missing. That baby even dings when the door stays open too long. She sure is sweet.
One thing I remember is that gramps always made pancakes with Bisquick and buttermilk. The secret was using curdled buttermilk if you happened to have it. Well, yesterday I just happened to have some. I thought to myself, this may be interesting. Ev is getting tired of eating oatmeal since he has that every morning of the week. Nan makes him baked oatmeal on weekends when she is so inclined and he certainly enjoys that dish. Who wouldn't? It is chock full of raisins, brown sugar, and everything you shouldn't ply your teenager with when he or she sits down to eat in the morning. And then there are eggs. He was on an eggs and toast kick for quite some time and that too got old. So when I got the idea to make some cakes for him I gladly grabbed the Bisquick, buttermilk, eggs, bowl and whisk and I was off and running. In the middle of assembling all of the parts, I decided that rather than just slicing bananas, apples, and raisins on to the pancakes as they neared perfection prior to being flipped, I would throw the fruit directly on to the griddle with a little butter and cinnamon and let them soften up and caramelize first. Then, and only then, was the mixture ready to be thrown on to the not-yet-cooked cakes. I gave the batter an extra bit of whipping just to introduce the right number of air bubbles to ensure fluffy and robust cakes and poured just enough to make 4 large cakes. As the bubbles appeared and multiplied the time was now or never for the introduction of the caramelized concoction. Those babies were just de-lish! With a few pats of butter thrown randomly across the expanse of the luscious cakes, they were ready to be served. Syrup was not necessary. A cold glass of milk, on the other hand, was. Rachel Ray, eat your heart out!
In retrospect, I'm glad we replaced our old refrigerator last year. The new one is quite a bit larger. So large, in fact, that I have trouble finding what I'm looking for from time to time. So large, that I will occasionally leave empty containers in there rather than leave them on the counter. So large that food that is out of sight sometimes goes bad and I only discover it when I put my hands into a drawer and find that items that used to be solid have turned soft or even gel-like. The refrigerator is so efficient and so cold that not even the most putrified of poultry, parsley, or parsnips come to our attention when the door is opened. One time, we had so many dirty dishes on the counter that I couldn't find a spot for one in-hand, I opened the refrigerator and in it went. It's a shame that Evan doesn't care for leftovers by and large since we have leftovers in spades just within reach inside the fridge. There are chicken enchilada's, real mashed potatoes, plenty of cottage cheese, sliced pineapple, and other things that he could readily consume if only he had the desire. But you have to love the LED lights, the doors that open left and right, and the freezer drawer that opens on the bottom half of the unit. Surprisingly, that took very little getting used to compared to our side-by-side refrigerator in days of old. We just didn't know what we were missing. That baby even dings when the door stays open too long. She sure is sweet.
Red Snapper and Fried Oysters
10/04/11 09:04
Who goes out to dinner on a Saturday night in Portsmouth? I can tell you who. Someone with reservations, that's who. Don't know what we were thinking. We were hoping to cash in on a couple of our gift certificates that we've had forever but it was not to be. Flatbread was jammin'. Cafe Mediterranio turned us away after asking whether or not we had reservations. Raddiccio's was hopping and there wasn't a spare seat in the house. Even Popovers was crazy busy although we lingered longer than was necessary at the counter admiring the desserts and occasional entree that passed beneath our eyes. I think we weren't the only ones waiting in line. I was getting more and more hungry by the moment and the hungrier I get the less discriminating I become when considering the options. After being turned away at Cafe Kava, the place down the alleyway with vertical gardens boasting every conceivable herb you can imagine, we ended up at Restaurant 106. There was a small table waiting for us just inside the door. Seems as though it had our name on it. The service was supreme; the food spicy and decidedly southern in origin; the starter dish of hot golden brown fried southern oysters delightful as served in a sweet sauce spread in perpendicular swaths across the small but colorful plate; our basket of italian bread was hot and slightly crusty and was served with a small dish of freshly churned butter; my entree of Blackened Red Snapper was a good sized portion and sat atop a healthy serving of dirty rice - a staple of southern cooking.
Nancy had a salad and a nice portabello mushroom sandwich. I might have preferred less balsamic vinegar had I ordered her sandwich but kept my comments to myself. I might have ordered the special of Beef Stroganoff as well had our waitress mentioned it but she did not. Why is it that they always seem to forget the specials when Nancy and I sit down to order? Before we knew we had been sitting too long between courses, our waitress offered us a consolation dish which Nancy declined but I did not. As promised, she delivered a steaming bowl of fish chowder - southern style of course. It was de-lish. It was full of baby shrimp, scallops, potatoes and scallions. Nan popped the oyster crackers like Cracker Jacks and I was able to salvage a mere one or one or two to crumble over my dish before they disappeared all together. While our table may have seemed too small to some, too close to the servers area to others, too close to the semi-exposed kitchen to others, and too close to the door and flow of traffic to others, I rather enjoyed the hustle bustle of night and was not otherwise dismayed to be sitting where we were. I was oblivious to the two women celebrating a birthday to our left; oblivious to the table directly behind us of 5-6 women celebrating something altogether different and in various stages of intoxication; and oblivious to the constant motion of the kitchen and server staff although I much appreciated the salaciousness of the latter and the wonderful aromas emanating from the former. The party waiting outside on the sidewalk with hoods up and hands in their pockets just to stay warm made our predicament seem like less of a predicament than it really was.
Nancy thought the table was sticky to the touch and avoided it at all costs. The angle of the table was not to her liking and she shifted it from time to time like a nervous nellie with a twitch. She was not displeased that they brought bread right away nor did she think we had waited too long when our waitress came by with an offer of chowder as a consolation prize for waiting too long. She thought the drinks sounded good when offered but declined the offer when made although confided in me that she might well take a sip of two were she to have one delivered to the table. She didn't resist my attempts when I wrestled the sliver of a dill pickle from her plate like a thief in the night and, conversely, I showed little patience with her when she stuck up her nose at the pickled cauliflower on my plate when offered. Fine, I'll eat it and you'l have none of it. Such was the give and take of our extreme dining adventure in downtown Portsmouth on an oh-so-fine April evening in the year 2011. While we were out on the town, our son was wrestling with his own demons down at Katie O'Brien's. To this day, we're not sure if Katie is a standard excuse, a main squeeze, or simply a dear friend who entertains Evan and others like him from time to time. You never know with teenagers.
Nancy had a salad and a nice portabello mushroom sandwich. I might have preferred less balsamic vinegar had I ordered her sandwich but kept my comments to myself. I might have ordered the special of Beef Stroganoff as well had our waitress mentioned it but she did not. Why is it that they always seem to forget the specials when Nancy and I sit down to order? Before we knew we had been sitting too long between courses, our waitress offered us a consolation dish which Nancy declined but I did not. As promised, she delivered a steaming bowl of fish chowder - southern style of course. It was de-lish. It was full of baby shrimp, scallops, potatoes and scallions. Nan popped the oyster crackers like Cracker Jacks and I was able to salvage a mere one or one or two to crumble over my dish before they disappeared all together. While our table may have seemed too small to some, too close to the servers area to others, too close to the semi-exposed kitchen to others, and too close to the door and flow of traffic to others, I rather enjoyed the hustle bustle of night and was not otherwise dismayed to be sitting where we were. I was oblivious to the two women celebrating a birthday to our left; oblivious to the table directly behind us of 5-6 women celebrating something altogether different and in various stages of intoxication; and oblivious to the constant motion of the kitchen and server staff although I much appreciated the salaciousness of the latter and the wonderful aromas emanating from the former. The party waiting outside on the sidewalk with hoods up and hands in their pockets just to stay warm made our predicament seem like less of a predicament than it really was.
Nancy thought the table was sticky to the touch and avoided it at all costs. The angle of the table was not to her liking and she shifted it from time to time like a nervous nellie with a twitch. She was not displeased that they brought bread right away nor did she think we had waited too long when our waitress came by with an offer of chowder as a consolation prize for waiting too long. She thought the drinks sounded good when offered but declined the offer when made although confided in me that she might well take a sip of two were she to have one delivered to the table. She didn't resist my attempts when I wrestled the sliver of a dill pickle from her plate like a thief in the night and, conversely, I showed little patience with her when she stuck up her nose at the pickled cauliflower on my plate when offered. Fine, I'll eat it and you'l have none of it. Such was the give and take of our extreme dining adventure in downtown Portsmouth on an oh-so-fine April evening in the year 2011. While we were out on the town, our son was wrestling with his own demons down at Katie O'Brien's. To this day, we're not sure if Katie is a standard excuse, a main squeeze, or simply a dear friend who entertains Evan and others like him from time to time. You never know with teenagers.
Sweetness of Spring
03/04/11 07:23
Tell me something about yourself, Johnny boy. Well, I never drink any milk once it gets down to the bottom of the jug. The way I look at it, the milk producers can never effectively filter out all of the chemicals of a product like milk nor do they try. It would be far too expensive and they would have to, in turn, pass those costs along to the consumer. So, in my own little way, I just don't drink the milk when the gallon jug gets to the bottom. If there are any residual hormones or something more insidious like pesticides, I'm hoping they are heavier than the milk and find their way to the bottom so they can be avoided. Buying skim milk as I do goes a long way towards ensuring that the "heaviness" theory works as advertised. Here's to your health!
Signs of spring are unravelling in earnest here along the coast. We heard our first peepers (peeper frogs) while biking a back road along the ocean late yesterday afternoon. The days are longer, the sun is well off the horizon at high noon, and the eccentric sounds of the Red Winged Blackbird can easily be parsed out of the usual white noise on any given day if one cares to listen carefully. I even saw a Red Robin the other way but they can be a fickle bunch and I suspect they've been around for a couple of months now. It's hard to believe that we had a snow storm this past Friday and there is barely a telltale sign of it anywhere as I sit here on Sunday morning reading the headlines online.
Evan got his snow day and that was his only focus as he laid his head down to sleep on Thursday night. Today, we'll do our best to swill the sweetness of spring. I'll watch Clay Buchholz do his level best to pitch a winning game against the Texas Rangers who have taken 2 of 3 in the season opener against the Red Sox. If I get the slightest whiff that he's not doing what I hope he can and will I will turn my attention elsewhere. It is far too beautiful of a spring day to be inside for any appreciable period of time. It's 9:11 in the morning and 42 degrees here on the coast. I'll be making Portabello mushroom reubens for lunch and I'll be making meatloaf with garlic mashed potatoes and curried corn made with coconut milk for dinner.
I'm tickled too to have my Matrix back on the road. With gas prices at $3.50 a gallon, I can ill afford to be driving anything that gets less than 30 miles per gallon. While it doesn't help that the Matrix requires premium gas, I still come out ahead in any comparison to our other two cars. I took her off the road in November and felt guilty from time to time over the cold and snowy winter months as she sat outside exposed to the elements. I did my level best to turn her over at least once a week just to run the engine. Fact of the matter is, that car doesn't handle well in the snow so I simply don't drive it. Nor did I have any business driving anyone to school as I did day in and day out over the winter months knowing what I do about how the car handles in snow, There were times last winter that I couldn't even get any traction on the slightest incline leaving the school parking lot so taking her off the road was the right thing to do. Now that she's back on the road, I'm wanting to take her everywhere and am coaxing my darling sweetness to do the same. That's what we're talking about.
Signs of spring are unravelling in earnest here along the coast. We heard our first peepers (peeper frogs) while biking a back road along the ocean late yesterday afternoon. The days are longer, the sun is well off the horizon at high noon, and the eccentric sounds of the Red Winged Blackbird can easily be parsed out of the usual white noise on any given day if one cares to listen carefully. I even saw a Red Robin the other way but they can be a fickle bunch and I suspect they've been around for a couple of months now. It's hard to believe that we had a snow storm this past Friday and there is barely a telltale sign of it anywhere as I sit here on Sunday morning reading the headlines online.
Evan got his snow day and that was his only focus as he laid his head down to sleep on Thursday night. Today, we'll do our best to swill the sweetness of spring. I'll watch Clay Buchholz do his level best to pitch a winning game against the Texas Rangers who have taken 2 of 3 in the season opener against the Red Sox. If I get the slightest whiff that he's not doing what I hope he can and will I will turn my attention elsewhere. It is far too beautiful of a spring day to be inside for any appreciable period of time. It's 9:11 in the morning and 42 degrees here on the coast. I'll be making Portabello mushroom reubens for lunch and I'll be making meatloaf with garlic mashed potatoes and curried corn made with coconut milk for dinner.
I'm tickled too to have my Matrix back on the road. With gas prices at $3.50 a gallon, I can ill afford to be driving anything that gets less than 30 miles per gallon. While it doesn't help that the Matrix requires premium gas, I still come out ahead in any comparison to our other two cars. I took her off the road in November and felt guilty from time to time over the cold and snowy winter months as she sat outside exposed to the elements. I did my level best to turn her over at least once a week just to run the engine. Fact of the matter is, that car doesn't handle well in the snow so I simply don't drive it. Nor did I have any business driving anyone to school as I did day in and day out over the winter months knowing what I do about how the car handles in snow, There were times last winter that I couldn't even get any traction on the slightest incline leaving the school parking lot so taking her off the road was the right thing to do. Now that she's back on the road, I'm wanting to take her everywhere and am coaxing my darling sweetness to do the same. That's what we're talking about.
Ain't Portland Pretty?
27/03/11 07:15
Wasn't that just ducky. A quick ride to Portland for the day with my honey. That is what we did yesterday. It was just an oh-so-fine day for a ride that we couldn't resist. We invited the Ev boy along but he declined in typical "I'm sixteen and you're not" fashion. He seemed more inclined to want to hang with his buds and do a little paintball and lunch at the Bell (Taco). Hasn't anyone told him that the Bell was recently taken to task for false advertising? It seems that their beef concoctions are not as close to 100% as billed. That's hardly a show stopper for the youts of today. Bring it in at less than a dollar, load it up with carbs, and you're good to go. So much so that they probably do a bang-up business at their take-out window. I know because were constantly cleaning up the wrappers from that joint and others after Evan drops off the car. And this is a surprise to who? Besides, I think we'd better getter our road trips in while the price of gas is less that $3.50 a gallon although it exceeded that price at station after station as we made our way up the coast to our destination. Not sure we had a real destination although we wanted very badly to go to this one particular fish market in Portland on the wharf. Oddly enough, we've spent a lot of time over the years just a block away in the Old Port without ever getting off the beaten path to places like the Harbor Fish Market.
It was a sunny and breezy day with temperatures just barley above freezing. Not so cold that you needed a winter coat but absent that you needed multiple sweaters or layers up and down your body just to stay warm. I even had gloves on and I wasn't alone. Nancy even tried on some ear muffs in one store but they didn't fit quite right so there they stayed. I suggested she try on some beads seeing that they were "her color" and were really were quite nice. Foot traffic was brisk. Panhandlers were ever present and the coffee shops dotting the downtown area were filled to capacity with people huddling socially in groups, working on laptops at shops offering WiFi (who doesn't these days), and looking in and out of windows at the shops and people out and about for the day. I managed to go to 2 coffee shops within a 2 block area without ever stepping foot in Starbucks (my usual haunt). I guess you could say that it was a 2-cup day. A rarity by any standards much less my own. I spied a Cuban Espresso in one shop and couldn't place my order fast enough. That'll be to-go, por favor. After taking a quick sip and having my breath taken away by the loveliness of the highly and supremely caffeinated swill, I carried my little espresso as fast as I could without spilling it to where I thought my darling might be so she too could enjoy the rapture offered up by the beverage. It was heaven sent. She concurred but was satisfied after one small taste which left her upper lip with brush of caramel colored froth. She is one to guard against potions and portions that move her out of her comfort zone. I am nowhere near that disciplined.
The fish market was not quite what I expected. The building and area on the outskirts of the port were seemingly in disrepair and the alleyway leading up to the store was narrow and difficult to navigate. We immediately noticed people coming and going in and out of this one door which must have been the store itself. It was a working market by anyone's standards with drains in the cement floor and large pools of water containing lobsters lining the outer walls of the small shop. Sounds of bubbling water filled the air from the open tanks and created an ambience unique to the port area. Raw fish can be quite appealing to the eye and if nothing else it left us wanting a little something "fishy" before leaving the port. Before leaving for our trip back we sat in a restaurant a block or two out of the port area just so we could get off the beaten path and enjoy something less commercial. The place was small (two waitresses max) but the prices were right, the shop was not too busy but busy enough and busy enough with the right clientele (regulars) who by their very presence spoke to the quality and/or quantity of the fare. That was good enough for us. Besides, it was a nice warm place with an open table near the window and specials on the board that were simply appealing enough. I had clam chowder, fries, and a half sandwich while my sweetness had a bowl of fish chowder and most of my fries. Hey! Leave a couple of those crispy puppies for me, will ya? I think our bill came to $17. We stopped by Borders on the way out of town just to see if they were still in business after recently declaring bankruptcy. They were. The drive back to New Hampshire seemed longer than usual but that may have been because we were tired after a long day. And that we were. Tired but happy.
It was a sunny and breezy day with temperatures just barley above freezing. Not so cold that you needed a winter coat but absent that you needed multiple sweaters or layers up and down your body just to stay warm. I even had gloves on and I wasn't alone. Nancy even tried on some ear muffs in one store but they didn't fit quite right so there they stayed. I suggested she try on some beads seeing that they were "her color" and were really were quite nice. Foot traffic was brisk. Panhandlers were ever present and the coffee shops dotting the downtown area were filled to capacity with people huddling socially in groups, working on laptops at shops offering WiFi (who doesn't these days), and looking in and out of windows at the shops and people out and about for the day. I managed to go to 2 coffee shops within a 2 block area without ever stepping foot in Starbucks (my usual haunt). I guess you could say that it was a 2-cup day. A rarity by any standards much less my own. I spied a Cuban Espresso in one shop and couldn't place my order fast enough. That'll be to-go, por favor. After taking a quick sip and having my breath taken away by the loveliness of the highly and supremely caffeinated swill, I carried my little espresso as fast as I could without spilling it to where I thought my darling might be so she too could enjoy the rapture offered up by the beverage. It was heaven sent. She concurred but was satisfied after one small taste which left her upper lip with brush of caramel colored froth. She is one to guard against potions and portions that move her out of her comfort zone. I am nowhere near that disciplined.
The fish market was not quite what I expected. The building and area on the outskirts of the port were seemingly in disrepair and the alleyway leading up to the store was narrow and difficult to navigate. We immediately noticed people coming and going in and out of this one door which must have been the store itself. It was a working market by anyone's standards with drains in the cement floor and large pools of water containing lobsters lining the outer walls of the small shop. Sounds of bubbling water filled the air from the open tanks and created an ambience unique to the port area. Raw fish can be quite appealing to the eye and if nothing else it left us wanting a little something "fishy" before leaving the port. Before leaving for our trip back we sat in a restaurant a block or two out of the port area just so we could get off the beaten path and enjoy something less commercial. The place was small (two waitresses max) but the prices were right, the shop was not too busy but busy enough and busy enough with the right clientele (regulars) who by their very presence spoke to the quality and/or quantity of the fare. That was good enough for us. Besides, it was a nice warm place with an open table near the window and specials on the board that were simply appealing enough. I had clam chowder, fries, and a half sandwich while my sweetness had a bowl of fish chowder and most of my fries. Hey! Leave a couple of those crispy puppies for me, will ya? I think our bill came to $17. We stopped by Borders on the way out of town just to see if they were still in business after recently declaring bankruptcy. They were. The drive back to New Hampshire seemed longer than usual but that may have been because we were tired after a long day. And that we were. Tired but happy.
Bad Boys
26/03/11 07:58
Thank you for stopping by, officer Webster. You say Evan has been driving around town terrorizing innocent bystanders in that big old Volvo? The fellow over on Allehson Road actually stepped in front of the car to slow Evan down and after Evan came to a complete stop he stepped on the gas and sped off? And, since you did not witness the incident, you can't write him a ticket? You don't say. Yes, kids these days. I will certainly call Evan and have him call you when he returns home. I know you feel it's important to speak to him. It's important that Evan understands the consequences of his actions and that when he is behind the wheel of a car the consequences can be catastrophic indeed. Nancy has aways said that he drives too fast. I've not seen that myself but can imagine that under the right circumstances he might well he doing that sort of thing. I may have even done the same thing once or twice when I was his age. After calling Evan's cell and not getting through to him, I left a message to the effect that the Rye police were looking for him and that he needed to come home right away. And that is what he did. He took responsibility for his actions. He didn't try to blame another or have his parents call. He manned-up as they say and called the officer directly. He was understandably contrite and confessed to his misdeeds and the officer must have been sufficiently satisfied of that fact because he did not come to our home to speak directly to Evan. I thought that was his plan after speaking to him earlier in the evening but it all worked out in the end. And now, the Nan and I get to talk about the consequences. He will most certainly be on the receiving end of that conversation. And, rightfully so.
I have to thank sister Denise for this next item. She bought Nancy and I a Moosewood cookbook many many years ago and we just loved it and still have it to this day. It's a little tattered and torn to be sure but serviceable nonetheless. So, when I went looking for a gift for my sweetness on her birthday it was Evan who suggested that we go to Barnes and Noble. I'm not certain if it was he who said anything about a cookbook but once there it occurred to me to go looking for just that item. Wouldn't you know it that they had quite a selection of Moosewood cookbooks. I will admit to letting my attention waver ever so slightly when making the purchase and I inadvertently picked up a low fat version. Well, that puppy went back the next day and was exchanged for a more robust version. I see so many things that I want to make in it. There is one recipe for Mac and Cheese that calls for silken tofu. Of course, we are always trying to get more protein in Evan's diet so this may be just what the doctor ordered. We can't tell him about the tofu for sure. Not sure he even knows what tofu is or that he's even heard of it. Surely, if he knew, the game would be up and he wouldn't be interested. As it is, it looks terrific and I think he'll enjoy it. I may even have a spoonful or two myself. I guess at the end of the day she has the book in hand, a husband who is willing to make one or more recipes for her enjoyment, and you could say it is simply the gift that keeps on giving. What's not to enjoy.
Life goes on. I'm 4 bike rides into the 2011 season and even though we're technically in Spring here in New England it still feels like winter. We just can't seem to get the daily temperatures out of the 30's no matter how hard we try. As if we have any control over that sort of thing. We're still using the wood stove and it is almost April. Thank god our supplies are plentiful. We could probably use a few more cans of black beans for the fallout shelter but who's counting. Only kidding. I am having second thoughts though about the merits of paying DirecTV as much as I do month in and month out. I get my content from so many different sources that I just can't justify the expense anymore. Just yesterday, when my darling was getting ready to catch the train to Boston, I was on the cusp of downloading the most recent episode of Top Chef so she could watch it on the iPad when she decided she couldn't the wait the extra 2 minutes it was going to take me to do it. That is the world we live in. I use my iPad to pull down internet radio and enjoy that throughout the house when the signal is strong enough. I really should invest in an extender unit. My god, it's only $79. I can be such a cheap bastard sometimes. You know what it is? I am just not in the habit of spending my hard earned dough. You know what they say about habits. They die hard. And, we are creatures of habit. And so it goes.
I have to thank sister Denise for this next item. She bought Nancy and I a Moosewood cookbook many many years ago and we just loved it and still have it to this day. It's a little tattered and torn to be sure but serviceable nonetheless. So, when I went looking for a gift for my sweetness on her birthday it was Evan who suggested that we go to Barnes and Noble. I'm not certain if it was he who said anything about a cookbook but once there it occurred to me to go looking for just that item. Wouldn't you know it that they had quite a selection of Moosewood cookbooks. I will admit to letting my attention waver ever so slightly when making the purchase and I inadvertently picked up a low fat version. Well, that puppy went back the next day and was exchanged for a more robust version. I see so many things that I want to make in it. There is one recipe for Mac and Cheese that calls for silken tofu. Of course, we are always trying to get more protein in Evan's diet so this may be just what the doctor ordered. We can't tell him about the tofu for sure. Not sure he even knows what tofu is or that he's even heard of it. Surely, if he knew, the game would be up and he wouldn't be interested. As it is, it looks terrific and I think he'll enjoy it. I may even have a spoonful or two myself. I guess at the end of the day she has the book in hand, a husband who is willing to make one or more recipes for her enjoyment, and you could say it is simply the gift that keeps on giving. What's not to enjoy.
Life goes on. I'm 4 bike rides into the 2011 season and even though we're technically in Spring here in New England it still feels like winter. We just can't seem to get the daily temperatures out of the 30's no matter how hard we try. As if we have any control over that sort of thing. We're still using the wood stove and it is almost April. Thank god our supplies are plentiful. We could probably use a few more cans of black beans for the fallout shelter but who's counting. Only kidding. I am having second thoughts though about the merits of paying DirecTV as much as I do month in and month out. I get my content from so many different sources that I just can't justify the expense anymore. Just yesterday, when my darling was getting ready to catch the train to Boston, I was on the cusp of downloading the most recent episode of Top Chef so she could watch it on the iPad when she decided she couldn't the wait the extra 2 minutes it was going to take me to do it. That is the world we live in. I use my iPad to pull down internet radio and enjoy that throughout the house when the signal is strong enough. I really should invest in an extender unit. My god, it's only $79. I can be such a cheap bastard sometimes. You know what it is? I am just not in the habit of spending my hard earned dough. You know what they say about habits. They die hard. And, we are creatures of habit. And so it goes.
Toxic at Best
20/03/11 07:45
We're going in to get that guy. The mad dog from North Africa as Ronald Reagan called him. It's a coalition of countries wanting to oust that mother once and for all. The pro-democracy groups in the region have run the towel headed dictators out of Tunisia and Egypt and have set their sights on Khadafi and his clan as the next party to hit the tarmac or worse. It is interesting to see that it is not just the U.S. but France, the Brits, and several other countries who are done tolerating his brand of leadership. They cannot simply stand by and watch as he murders his own people. He should suffer the fate of those dictators before him and be hanged like the dog that he is. If he doesn't have enough sense to leave the country on his own then he deserves whatever fate might befall him. The only question remaining is, is it too little too late? Khadafi has already laid ruin to many of his opponents while the West fiddled while trying to make a decision. And then, there is the question of how to effectively rout that bastard with nothing more than air cover. Where is James Bond when we need him? Tillman would do the job had he not been fragged by his own squad members. And then there is the Terminator. Not sure he's up to the task after failing miserably in his efforts to roll in the democrats in the California legislature. Oh, for Christ sakes. Someone give me a pistol and a map.
Don't get me going on the nightmare in Japan. First it was the 9.0 earthquake and then it was the sunami. And now, its the goddamn uranium. It's showing up in the food supply around the world. First the spinach and then the milk. Is anyone safe anymore? It only took two weeks to get a power supply to the plants to run the generators that cool the reactors. And all the while not anywhere in that country was any leader anywhere willing to take a stand on what was really going on. Apparently, it's just two notches below Chernobyl on the radiation poison continuum. Every nation known to man was evacuating their citizens including the U.S.. But still, no one in the Japanese government is willing to tell the people of Japan or the world what the hell is going on with the reactors and what it means to the people of that island nation. I would personally put the emperor or Japan at the top of my death watch list. If he hasn't considered Hari Kari, then he should. Did I tell you that the radiation sirens were going off on the U.S. aircraft carriers lying 175 miles offshore? Thank god the wind was blowing east and not north towards Tokyo or other land mass in Japan. Who do they think are they kidding.
I like to peel those little puppies and Nancy likes to slice them in quarters before eating them. One thing we agree on is that we just love navel oranges. When they are in season we are there will bells on to buy them. We like them in the 5-lb bags. Maybe it's because there isn't much else in season in the months of February and March. All the better the reason to have them on hand. Did I tell you that I've had 2 bike rides in the past 2 weeks? Yup. It feels good to feel the ocean air on my face and in my lungs again. It doesn't hurt that temperatures are getting above 40 for the first time in several months. Nancy has yet to join me but is very much looking forward to it. Hey! What's going on with Da? That boy needs to find himself a way to get up and about. Someone needs to tell him that the days of lying in bed all day and night are in the rear view mirror. The Mrs needs him. She's doing her best but it's not enough. I think I need to ask my friends to lend him a helping hand. You know, those heavenly angels that I go to from time to time when I can't otherwise summon any earthly answers. This one may be above their pay grade but you don't know until you've asked. And then I am, as usual, faced with the eternal question, at what price do they do my bidding. I'm just not convinced there isn't a karma component to this relationship.
Don't get me going on the nightmare in Japan. First it was the 9.0 earthquake and then it was the sunami. And now, its the goddamn uranium. It's showing up in the food supply around the world. First the spinach and then the milk. Is anyone safe anymore? It only took two weeks to get a power supply to the plants to run the generators that cool the reactors. And all the while not anywhere in that country was any leader anywhere willing to take a stand on what was really going on. Apparently, it's just two notches below Chernobyl on the radiation poison continuum. Every nation known to man was evacuating their citizens including the U.S.. But still, no one in the Japanese government is willing to tell the people of Japan or the world what the hell is going on with the reactors and what it means to the people of that island nation. I would personally put the emperor or Japan at the top of my death watch list. If he hasn't considered Hari Kari, then he should. Did I tell you that the radiation sirens were going off on the U.S. aircraft carriers lying 175 miles offshore? Thank god the wind was blowing east and not north towards Tokyo or other land mass in Japan. Who do they think are they kidding.
I like to peel those little puppies and Nancy likes to slice them in quarters before eating them. One thing we agree on is that we just love navel oranges. When they are in season we are there will bells on to buy them. We like them in the 5-lb bags. Maybe it's because there isn't much else in season in the months of February and March. All the better the reason to have them on hand. Did I tell you that I've had 2 bike rides in the past 2 weeks? Yup. It feels good to feel the ocean air on my face and in my lungs again. It doesn't hurt that temperatures are getting above 40 for the first time in several months. Nancy has yet to join me but is very much looking forward to it. Hey! What's going on with Da? That boy needs to find himself a way to get up and about. Someone needs to tell him that the days of lying in bed all day and night are in the rear view mirror. The Mrs needs him. She's doing her best but it's not enough. I think I need to ask my friends to lend him a helping hand. You know, those heavenly angels that I go to from time to time when I can't otherwise summon any earthly answers. This one may be above their pay grade but you don't know until you've asked. And then I am, as usual, faced with the eternal question, at what price do they do my bidding. I'm just not convinced there isn't a karma component to this relationship.
Slippery Slope
11/03/11 08:19
That was a mighty tasty breakfast I made for myself this morning. I cooked up some eggs, turkey sausage, topped with a blend of cheeses and left on the stove to melt into one big breakfast coagulation. I think it was especially tasty given that I have the day off and as Da likes to say, "there's nobody chasing me. " I have a good mind to make Ev a nice breakfast of blueberry and banana pancakes when he wakes up just to see if we can't get his day off on the right foot. I won't tell him that I plan to use buttermilk in the mix. He might well turn his nose up at my generous offer. Not that he knows what buttermilk is but it just sounds distasteful. Fact of the matter is, it is the only way to whip up pancakes and I wouldn't consider making pancakes without it. Not sure if the Bisquick I plan to use is low fat or not but also not sure if that makes much of a difference. I also know I shouldn't be offering him any syrup but we have a smidge left so might as well use it up. That boy also turns his nose up at anything organic I bring into the house. The other day he went out of his way to ask me to make sure to replace a container of raisins with the same brand. They were Newman's organic raisins and just the prettiest and plumpest little puppies on the planet. I told him so and he just kept moving. I guess it's better to ignore your parents when you're in a position to admit you're wrong. I don't push my luck beyond that.
Nan called me the other day in tears but half laughing. Seems that she was out and about shopping as she is wanting to do from time to time and some sales clerk asked her if she was interested in the senior citizen discount. With everything else going on in her life I'm not sure I would have asked that question were I the clerk and I had any notion of her frame of mind. I guess it's a tricky question for any clerk to pose and sometimes it is probably better not asked. You know how it is when you're young. Kids 2 years your senior pass for "old" so you can imagine what someone in their 50's looks like. My darling took it to heart and felt better after realizing that the discount was available to anyone over 55. She felt so much better that she did indeed take the discount. I think it was 20%. That has to make you feel a lot better. As a veteran shopper and long time aisle stroller going back to the days of Filene's Basement in Boston, the upside of the discount was just the right elixir for the emotional wounds inflicted by the clerk. She saved a tear or two for her conversation with me about the incident but it was quickly forgotten.
I took my 2004 Toyota off the road for the winter because it doesn't do well in snow. I like a good footing when I'm on the road in the winter. If I wanted to skate, I'd buy a pair of roller skates and be done with it. I drove the old Volvo instead and she was just perfect. Just what the doctor ordered. With gas prices skyrocketing once again, I may well put that Toyota back on the road so I can double what I'm currently getting for gas mileage. It's an economic decision and the timing seems good especially since Spring is but a week or two away. Gas is $3.50 a gallon and doesn't appear to showing any signs of weakening. Damn. Here we go again. As for current events, Japan had an earthquake with a magnitude of 8.7 yesterday and the world financial markets were roiled with all the major indicies taking a 2% hit. Not necessarily in that order, mind you. Personally, I'm looking for a little correction here since the markets have gone up in straight line since last September. Guys like me look for entry points when corrections take place. I need to make sure that we are in fact looking at a correction and not just a one or two day event. We'll see. It may be time to consult my friends.
Nan called me the other day in tears but half laughing. Seems that she was out and about shopping as she is wanting to do from time to time and some sales clerk asked her if she was interested in the senior citizen discount. With everything else going on in her life I'm not sure I would have asked that question were I the clerk and I had any notion of her frame of mind. I guess it's a tricky question for any clerk to pose and sometimes it is probably better not asked. You know how it is when you're young. Kids 2 years your senior pass for "old" so you can imagine what someone in their 50's looks like. My darling took it to heart and felt better after realizing that the discount was available to anyone over 55. She felt so much better that she did indeed take the discount. I think it was 20%. That has to make you feel a lot better. As a veteran shopper and long time aisle stroller going back to the days of Filene's Basement in Boston, the upside of the discount was just the right elixir for the emotional wounds inflicted by the clerk. She saved a tear or two for her conversation with me about the incident but it was quickly forgotten.
I took my 2004 Toyota off the road for the winter because it doesn't do well in snow. I like a good footing when I'm on the road in the winter. If I wanted to skate, I'd buy a pair of roller skates and be done with it. I drove the old Volvo instead and she was just perfect. Just what the doctor ordered. With gas prices skyrocketing once again, I may well put that Toyota back on the road so I can double what I'm currently getting for gas mileage. It's an economic decision and the timing seems good especially since Spring is but a week or two away. Gas is $3.50 a gallon and doesn't appear to showing any signs of weakening. Damn. Here we go again. As for current events, Japan had an earthquake with a magnitude of 8.7 yesterday and the world financial markets were roiled with all the major indicies taking a 2% hit. Not necessarily in that order, mind you. Personally, I'm looking for a little correction here since the markets have gone up in straight line since last September. Guys like me look for entry points when corrections take place. I need to make sure that we are in fact looking at a correction and not just a one or two day event. We'll see. It may be time to consult my friends.
Winter be Gone
05/03/11 07:57
I have to say that the show "Shameless" is not bad as Showtime shows go. I'm not an over-the-top fan of William Macy's but he makes it all work. Funny thing is that he is probably the least likable character of all the characters in the show and there are many. Maybe the only thing more exciting that watching the show is when I get to download the puppy to my iPad for my own personal viewing. When the house is feeling particularly cool after a long winters night and the wood stove is sputtering down to the last ember I like to curl up on the couch, pull a blanket up around my neck and down to my toes, and watch the show in my own little cocoon. If not Shameless, then I may go off in another direction with "Flying Alaska" or even "Being Human". There is something to be said for continuity and week in and week out I do what I do and never look back. The same is true for the work that I do, the people and places that I see and go, and the shows that take me to places I've never been. We are, after all, creatures of habit and habits die hard. Bad habits die even harder.
I feel the need to recalibrate after this miserable winter we've had. That task would be considerably easier were we to see some weather more reminiscent of spring rather than the latter stages of winter. I'd like just like one morning where I don't have to feed the wood stove or dress up like a Siberian in order to feel comfortable. Even at this late hour of the morning my little darling is still asleep. That should tell you something since she is one who prefers not to sleep past 8am. If she does, then she laments the fact for the rest of the day. When she laments, we all lament. Maybe all that goes away when the sun starts to shine once again. Maybe today is the day. Maybe I'll fix the leaky faucet and change the oil that needs changing. Maybe I'll clean around the wood stove and start to feel better about all the hard work involved in doing what is necessary to keep that darn thing going all winter. Maybe when all of these things are behind me I can move on to the next phase of activities on the calendar. I'll look forward to biking and just getting more exercise than I've had over the last few months. Maybe I'll even go to the gym with my darling since she has been after me as of late to do just that.
Enough about me. What about the price of gas? It's frigging $3.50 just for the usual stuff. Just when the economy was starting to rebound we see a spike in oil prices. I know the Mideast is in turmoil and Ghadafi is battling for his very existence but that mutha has to go. Seems as though he has the sweet crude that goes mainly to Europe and the rebels in Libya have control over some of the oil wells so where that is going nobody knows. Too bad our president is so busy trying not to be George Bush that he can't bring himself to come down on the side of the Libyan people and send a few troops in there to remove that asshole of a dictator. Egypt got rid of Mubarak and it's hard to say what that means except the people in that country are happy to done with that bum. And now, there are warships of every ilk traveling down the Suez canal and all are within striking distance of Israel. The people of Israel can't be sleeping well knowing this. If they are looking to the US for leadership or direction, they are sadly mistaken. So, gas will go to $5 and I'll take my Toyota out of storage and put the Volvo away for a few months. Well, if Ev is careful not to go galavanting here there and everywhere, I suppose we ought to leave it out for him to use. We'll rethink it all when gas goes to $10. God help us all.
I feel the need to recalibrate after this miserable winter we've had. That task would be considerably easier were we to see some weather more reminiscent of spring rather than the latter stages of winter. I'd like just like one morning where I don't have to feed the wood stove or dress up like a Siberian in order to feel comfortable. Even at this late hour of the morning my little darling is still asleep. That should tell you something since she is one who prefers not to sleep past 8am. If she does, then she laments the fact for the rest of the day. When she laments, we all lament. Maybe all that goes away when the sun starts to shine once again. Maybe today is the day. Maybe I'll fix the leaky faucet and change the oil that needs changing. Maybe I'll clean around the wood stove and start to feel better about all the hard work involved in doing what is necessary to keep that darn thing going all winter. Maybe when all of these things are behind me I can move on to the next phase of activities on the calendar. I'll look forward to biking and just getting more exercise than I've had over the last few months. Maybe I'll even go to the gym with my darling since she has been after me as of late to do just that.
Enough about me. What about the price of gas? It's frigging $3.50 just for the usual stuff. Just when the economy was starting to rebound we see a spike in oil prices. I know the Mideast is in turmoil and Ghadafi is battling for his very existence but that mutha has to go. Seems as though he has the sweet crude that goes mainly to Europe and the rebels in Libya have control over some of the oil wells so where that is going nobody knows. Too bad our president is so busy trying not to be George Bush that he can't bring himself to come down on the side of the Libyan people and send a few troops in there to remove that asshole of a dictator. Egypt got rid of Mubarak and it's hard to say what that means except the people in that country are happy to done with that bum. And now, there are warships of every ilk traveling down the Suez canal and all are within striking distance of Israel. The people of Israel can't be sleeping well knowing this. If they are looking to the US for leadership or direction, they are sadly mistaken. So, gas will go to $5 and I'll take my Toyota out of storage and put the Volvo away for a few months. Well, if Ev is careful not to go galavanting here there and everywhere, I suppose we ought to leave it out for him to use. We'll rethink it all when gas goes to $10. God help us all.
Three Little Piggies
27/02/11 07:29
There is nothing quite as sweet on God's green earth as laying your head down to sleep at night knowing full well that you don't need to get up to go to work in the morning. You can sleep in if you like. You can dream with wild abandon or toss and turn to your hearts content. You can lie in bed with your iPad or tune in to your favorite TV show or simply turn to the news of the day and slip beneath the covers knowing it's all good in your world even though the outside world is going to hell in a hand basket. It is the ultimate escape. Where you go and what you do once you've gone your merry way into that lovely abyss nobody knows and nobody cares. It doesn't even matter that you don't remember where you've gone once you awaken because it is difficult if not impossible to remember the milestones of your journey even if someone were to inquire. Better to not ask too many questions. Suffice it to say that it is a quarry of intrigue with a side of fries and three splendid little piggies. Oh, yes. That would be three splendid little piggies in a blanket. One of my all time favorite breakfasts. And then you wake up....
It is a good thing that Ev has a handful of good friends that he hangs with when he is not otherwise occupied. You worry about your children having friends. Not having any can be difficult and a loner Evan is not. Having too many can bring a flourish of activities many of which may be questionable and some even illegal or illicit. You hope to hell that there is a voice of reason crying out in your child's head drowning out those other voices that look to corrupt him or otherwise shape shift his moral compass. Did I mention that our neighbor gave us two bank passbooks she found in the road outside our house recently? One belonged to Evan. The other was a passbook for a joint account Evan opened with a friend. That's what I'm talking about. Nancy has yet to tell Evan that she has the passbooks now that we're a week away from the incident and I wonder if she plans to ever tell him. My only question is, why is he opening a joint account with his friend. I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that the two of them applied for a job at Ollie's recently. Chances are he will fail to fess up even if asked since that is just the way he is. He guards his privacy with a passion. We may just need to accept the fact that he will tell us in his own time if that is what he chooses to do. Or, not. I'm betting on the latter.
Speaking of little piggies in a blanket, I'm getting a little hungry for breakfast. Nan has been enjoying one particular dish I make which consists of sauteed broccoli, red peppers, mushrooms, and turkey sausages with melted cheese on top. Sometimes I just whip up some eggs and make an omelet of it. That is starting to sound pretty good to me even now. With snow in the forecast for the day I had hoped to make a batch of chili and eggplant parmesan and, if I have a chance, take a closer look at the damage to the front end of the car to see what, if anything, I can fix. So you see, I have a full day planned. Maybe I'll listen to a little audiobook of Winston Churchill and WWII while stirring the chili.
It is a good thing that Ev has a handful of good friends that he hangs with when he is not otherwise occupied. You worry about your children having friends. Not having any can be difficult and a loner Evan is not. Having too many can bring a flourish of activities many of which may be questionable and some even illegal or illicit. You hope to hell that there is a voice of reason crying out in your child's head drowning out those other voices that look to corrupt him or otherwise shape shift his moral compass. Did I mention that our neighbor gave us two bank passbooks she found in the road outside our house recently? One belonged to Evan. The other was a passbook for a joint account Evan opened with a friend. That's what I'm talking about. Nancy has yet to tell Evan that she has the passbooks now that we're a week away from the incident and I wonder if she plans to ever tell him. My only question is, why is he opening a joint account with his friend. I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that the two of them applied for a job at Ollie's recently. Chances are he will fail to fess up even if asked since that is just the way he is. He guards his privacy with a passion. We may just need to accept the fact that he will tell us in his own time if that is what he chooses to do. Or, not. I'm betting on the latter.
Speaking of little piggies in a blanket, I'm getting a little hungry for breakfast. Nan has been enjoying one particular dish I make which consists of sauteed broccoli, red peppers, mushrooms, and turkey sausages with melted cheese on top. Sometimes I just whip up some eggs and make an omelet of it. That is starting to sound pretty good to me even now. With snow in the forecast for the day I had hoped to make a batch of chili and eggplant parmesan and, if I have a chance, take a closer look at the damage to the front end of the car to see what, if anything, I can fix. So you see, I have a full day planned. Maybe I'll listen to a little audiobook of Winston Churchill and WWII while stirring the chili.
Driving us Crazy
26/02/11 07:15
Dude. Who knew. Evan got the YLOD on the PS3 a couple of weeks back and it was not pretty. You know, the light flashes on and off three or four times and then just dies. I found a tutorial on YouTube, borrowed a heat gun, finally found a torx wrench, and I was off to the races. I had to rip that mother apart right down to the motherboard, reflow the circuitry with the heat gun running at 350 degrees celsius, and then apply a new coating of thermal compound (Arctic Silver) on the heat sinks. I worried that the isopropyl alcohol I was using was not of sufficient strength to get the job done but not to worry. My biggest problem was that the video I was following didn't resemble the machine I was working on when I finally got inside the machine. Ribbons were different, fans didn't come off quite as described in the video, and it required a bit of jiggering as I went along. Anyway, I had a few screws on hand after it was reassembled which doesn't surprise me at all. When I plugged her in for the test ride, she lit right up and didn't blink away into oblivion as she did before she died on us. Mission accomplished.
I had hoped to have Ev lend a helping hand and even take the lead at the outset. We got started one day but came to a screeching halt when we couldn't get the first screw out. From there, we just never got it together to get it done and I decided that it was better not to wait for him and just do it myself. For one, I wanted to get the heat gun back to its owner and for two, I have some experience dealing with electronics and thought that rather then tell Evan I thought I'd better take the lead and maybe take the chance of letting him down that I was better of just doing it rather than walking him through the process. It took me two hours so not sure what it might have taken us had we turned it onto a two man job. Nonetheless, I waited until Thursday of his school vacation week so I didn't have to hear his mother screeching endlessly about his sitting in front of the TV playing his games the entire week. It is, after all, my machine so I thought it best to just get the job done. And that is what I did. I guess we'll have to see how long the fix lasts.
Did I tell you Ev got in an accident with the car last night? He told his mother that it happened in Katie O'Brien's driveway and that he slid into a snowbank. Apparently, he damaged one of the fog lights. I haven't seen it for myself but plan to do that this morning. We told him to just stay where he was and have fun and that we were good with the fact that he was not hurt. How much of his story is true we may never know. I'm just hoping not to read any stories in the local rags about a hit and run or anything like that. He may have even learned a valuable lesson last night as there is no greater lesson that that which is learned through your own experiences. It may have been more painful to call us up and give us the news than anything else. I guess we'll see how it plays out this morning.
I would just comment on one or two other things before I sign off this morning. This has been a wicked winter and with March approaching it is one welcome sight. We've had so much snow that you can't even imagine. We had to borrow our neighbors snow blower since our little Toro, god bless her little two cycle heart, just wasn't up to the task especially at the end of our driveway as a result of storms that dumped nearly a foot of snow a week on us. We had all we could do to keep the roof somewhat clear, the driveway from going down to one car width at the base, and the wood stove going strong enough to keep our home warm in sub freezing temperatures. Yes, it's been a damn cold winter too. My heart goes out to those people unable to afford the price of oil to heat their homes and I'm thankful we got a good load of seasoned wood as late in the season as we did. The price of gas at the pump is $3.20 so you can imagine what heating oil costs. With the Middle East in an upheaval I guess we'll see where the price of oil goes but it probably will not be down anytime soon.
I had hoped to have Ev lend a helping hand and even take the lead at the outset. We got started one day but came to a screeching halt when we couldn't get the first screw out. From there, we just never got it together to get it done and I decided that it was better not to wait for him and just do it myself. For one, I wanted to get the heat gun back to its owner and for two, I have some experience dealing with electronics and thought that rather then tell Evan I thought I'd better take the lead and maybe take the chance of letting him down that I was better of just doing it rather than walking him through the process. It took me two hours so not sure what it might have taken us had we turned it onto a two man job. Nonetheless, I waited until Thursday of his school vacation week so I didn't have to hear his mother screeching endlessly about his sitting in front of the TV playing his games the entire week. It is, after all, my machine so I thought it best to just get the job done. And that is what I did. I guess we'll have to see how long the fix lasts.
Did I tell you Ev got in an accident with the car last night? He told his mother that it happened in Katie O'Brien's driveway and that he slid into a snowbank. Apparently, he damaged one of the fog lights. I haven't seen it for myself but plan to do that this morning. We told him to just stay where he was and have fun and that we were good with the fact that he was not hurt. How much of his story is true we may never know. I'm just hoping not to read any stories in the local rags about a hit and run or anything like that. He may have even learned a valuable lesson last night as there is no greater lesson that that which is learned through your own experiences. It may have been more painful to call us up and give us the news than anything else. I guess we'll see how it plays out this morning.
I would just comment on one or two other things before I sign off this morning. This has been a wicked winter and with March approaching it is one welcome sight. We've had so much snow that you can't even imagine. We had to borrow our neighbors snow blower since our little Toro, god bless her little two cycle heart, just wasn't up to the task especially at the end of our driveway as a result of storms that dumped nearly a foot of snow a week on us. We had all we could do to keep the roof somewhat clear, the driveway from going down to one car width at the base, and the wood stove going strong enough to keep our home warm in sub freezing temperatures. Yes, it's been a damn cold winter too. My heart goes out to those people unable to afford the price of oil to heat their homes and I'm thankful we got a good load of seasoned wood as late in the season as we did. The price of gas at the pump is $3.20 so you can imagine what heating oil costs. With the Middle East in an upheaval I guess we'll see where the price of oil goes but it probably will not be down anytime soon.
Man-Up
22/01/11 07:11
He's back! Winter is in full swing here on the seacoast of NH. It's a meager 10 degrees and we've had more than our fair share of snow this year. We are socked in. No place to put it anymore and with each passing storm, of which there seem to be at least one a week, we continue to carve out a space where we think our driveway used to be. It was a good decision in hindsight to take my Matrix off the road for the winter and drive Nan's Volvo. I never fancied the idea of getting stuck on the slightest inclines on my daily routes when driving around town and it was a somewhat consuming thought process so that was that. The temperature swings have been less dramatic than usual as well so we have experienced minimal rutting at the end of the driveway which is a good thing. Evan has been more involved as well with the clean-up process and that has helped. If you can get past all the moaning and groaning, he will settle down and do a decent job. I can't say the same for his bedroom but that is a story for another day. We continue to work on getting him to sit up straight at the dinner table and to blow his nose with earnest. Get rid of that gunk, boy. You want to get pneumonia?
But I digress. Da has gone fetal and it's the usual story of light deprivation and mood induced malnutrition. Spring can't come soon enough for he and others like him who suffer from this type of affliction during the winter months. The Mrs does her best to set him in select spots in the house throughout the day to give him maximum exposure to sunlight. It's hard to say whether her efforts have helped him gain any traction in reality but she does what she thinks is necessary. She is, after all, a registered nurse, and a dedicated wife and companion. No one would expect any less. It probably didn't help much that the Patriots, his favorite football team, lost in the first round of the playoffs against the NY Jets. This was in the wake of a 14-2 season so it was especially disturbing for those following such things. Maybe Da saw it. Maybe he didn't. In case you're wondering, I was pulling for the Jets. Not because I like the Jets but because I despise the chest thumping, bellicose, and self righteous bastards that make up the Patriots organization. That includes coach Belichek. And if Kraft wants to pay Tom Brady $80mm for 5 years then he deserves what he gets. You might say he was hoodwinked (a reference to Belicheks standard sideline garb - a hoodie). The only Patriots fan I give two hoots about is Da and he is dealing with his own demons and doesn't need any razzing from me. Go Jets! On to the Superbowl!
The price of gas is $3.09 a gallon and the unemployment rate is close to 10%. Gabby Giffords continues to improve after being shot in the head while conducting a meet and greet with her constituents in Tuscon, Arizona. Who knew? We brought Dirty John hot dogs to Rollie's Christmas party over the holidays and some deranged apolitical 20-something brings a 9mm glock to a shopping mall to achieve God only knows what. What has this world come to? I can only hope that the endless hours that Evan spends playing gun games that he doesn't go Columbine or off to war when he comes of age. I may have to remind him that GSD and foxholes are incompatible bedfellows. Boys his age need reminding and we're beyond reminding him to brush his teeth at night but certainly not beyond reminding him that he needs to have the car home at a reasonable hour. And what is this business about reimbursing him for money that he spends to fill the gas tank? Need we remind him that it is our car and money doesn't grow on trees? He needs to man-up, in a word. It's time.
But I digress. Da has gone fetal and it's the usual story of light deprivation and mood induced malnutrition. Spring can't come soon enough for he and others like him who suffer from this type of affliction during the winter months. The Mrs does her best to set him in select spots in the house throughout the day to give him maximum exposure to sunlight. It's hard to say whether her efforts have helped him gain any traction in reality but she does what she thinks is necessary. She is, after all, a registered nurse, and a dedicated wife and companion. No one would expect any less. It probably didn't help much that the Patriots, his favorite football team, lost in the first round of the playoffs against the NY Jets. This was in the wake of a 14-2 season so it was especially disturbing for those following such things. Maybe Da saw it. Maybe he didn't. In case you're wondering, I was pulling for the Jets. Not because I like the Jets but because I despise the chest thumping, bellicose, and self righteous bastards that make up the Patriots organization. That includes coach Belichek. And if Kraft wants to pay Tom Brady $80mm for 5 years then he deserves what he gets. You might say he was hoodwinked (a reference to Belicheks standard sideline garb - a hoodie). The only Patriots fan I give two hoots about is Da and he is dealing with his own demons and doesn't need any razzing from me. Go Jets! On to the Superbowl!
The price of gas is $3.09 a gallon and the unemployment rate is close to 10%. Gabby Giffords continues to improve after being shot in the head while conducting a meet and greet with her constituents in Tuscon, Arizona. Who knew? We brought Dirty John hot dogs to Rollie's Christmas party over the holidays and some deranged apolitical 20-something brings a 9mm glock to a shopping mall to achieve God only knows what. What has this world come to? I can only hope that the endless hours that Evan spends playing gun games that he doesn't go Columbine or off to war when he comes of age. I may have to remind him that GSD and foxholes are incompatible bedfellows. Boys his age need reminding and we're beyond reminding him to brush his teeth at night but certainly not beyond reminding him that he needs to have the car home at a reasonable hour. And what is this business about reimbursing him for money that he spends to fill the gas tank? Need we remind him that it is our car and money doesn't grow on trees? He needs to man-up, in a word. It's time.