"The Solon Trip"

For my first two years in Maine, all I knew of the mighty Kennebec was what I saw in Augusta, Hallowell, and Waterville--a nice river running, but nothing I would call pristine. Over the past couple of years, we have both gotten to know the "other" Kennebec--the one running out of Moosehead Lake, down through "the Forks" and Moxie region, and then through Solon, Anson, and Madison. The river itself is fascinating for its diverse "biomes," if you will, from catching a prize Brook Trout up north, to watching Sturgeon, Striped Bass, and Alewifes tooling around the central Maine region, to enjoying Harbor Seals popping up their cute little heads around the Popham beach section.

This morning Amanda and I made our way to Norridgewock to meet the LaChapelles and head up along the Kennebec, through Madison and Anson. We dropped off one vehicle, and then made our way up to Solon with the other. We put in right under the "Embden" bridge off 201A . The bridge, consequently, is right along the Evergreen Campground--my first "Raider Society" weekend. That very campground is where yours truly was named Czar after only my rookie year at WHS. But anyway.

The trip--about 7 or 8 miles--went down river through some pretty strong current and rather fun "rips." A lack of rain has rendered the river extremely shallow, which added to our treat for the way we could gauge our speed by watching thousands of small, polished stones that made up the clear river bed pass by our canoe--we could literally see down the bottom the whole trip.

What was even more exciting were the number of paddlers and anglers on the section of the Kennebec today--"Trout Unlimited," a sort of fly fishing club, was having a weekend outing, and we even got to see our good old friend Lieutenant Dan Camann casting his fly rod off the river bank about half way down. What a nice suprise. Jen remarked how wonderful it was to see so many people on the water on such a beautiful day. I agree. It is great to see folks off their couches, out of the malls, and off their cell phones enjoying the beautiful resources Maine has to offer. The more trips we take, the more I realize just what a tremendous investment our Old Town Camper was.

From a "Maine history" standpoint, Dave, the man who has taught me more about the Maine outdoors than anyone, showed us the Ancient Indian Petroglyphs inscribed on some of the ledge along the river. Petroglyphs are akin to cave drawings; they are etchings carved into the stone. There were "pictures" of Indians hunting deer, canoeing, and using spears. What is more interesting is how all these Indians must have been on Enzyte; they all made themselves . . .um . . pretty well endowed in their artistic renderings. They must be Indians from the Pontocekki tribe, even. All in all a fantastic day on the water.

We closed the day with a great dinner at Ken's Restaurant in Skowhegan, where I got fried Oysters and Sally got her little midget shrimp. Then, the LaChapelles showed us their favorite ice cream hole. All to be ended by a nice little campfire in our backyard. A great summer day . . .

Where there's smoke . . . .

Hi--Jared here. Today while Sally Piles was at work, I did a few errands around town--up to Skowhegan to "Wayne's Stove and Canoe Shop," which is like my dream store. Two of my favorite things in one place: wood stoves and Old Town Canoes. What a concept. Its kind of funny how he decided to sell just those two things, but not as weird, I guess, as how the 4C company somehow decided they were going to market ONLY iced tea and breadcrumbs. Now those things have nothing to do with each other. UNLESS some savvy guy in accounting thought it would be in the best interest of the company to do this since then they would only have to purchase one type of cardboard cylindrical container. Sort of like a "kill two birds with one stone" kind of thing. Why do I think of these things? As Fuzzy so often says, "there is something seriously wrong with you!"

Anyway, back to the store. I had to pick up some straps to tie the canoe to the Forester, since our old ones have gone to heaven (or more like the side of I95 from forgetting to take them off the car after our last trip). Hopefully, we'll take a cool trip tomorrow along the Solon/Anson section of the Kennebec. It is fast water up there, and it should be cool. More to come on that tomorrow.

Amanda made some delicious pizza (some pineapple, some red pepper) and Sue brought over some chicken kabobs which were leftovers from her BBQ. A good dinner, followed by a nice walk around the neighborhoods. Then, Sally and I sat around the new fire pit that I picked up today. It was a birthday present to myself, for us. We have so much excess bark from all the birch I'm splitting that it makes perfect fuel for a nice evening fire. As we mentioned before, it is so nice to sit around the fire, drink a few nine beers, or iced tea in Amanda's case, and talk. Thomas even got in on the action, and so did Frank, our friendly neighborhood skunk. Seriously, he is friendly.

Nostalgia . . .

So many of the things from when I was a kid are gone now--particularly with foodstuffs. I just got to thinking today, and I thought I would post this "remember these?" sort of list. Feel free to add some more via comment . . .

1. Crystal Pepsi, and then SNL's spoof with "crystal gravy"
2. OK soda and calling 1-800-I FEEL OK
3. Hires Root Beer
4. Mello Yello (so much better than Mountain Dew)
5. Ramblin Root Beer (the best ever, by the way)
6. Superman cocoa
7. Cookies at McDonalds (the new ones stink . . .I'm talkin old school)
8. Burger Buddies (siamese twin burgers)
9. When BK started the whole restaurant thing when you'd sit down and get popcorn
10. BK’s “Herb” campaign--If you went in and asked about where "Herb" was, you supposedly got some discount on a burger or something. This mythical "Herb" went off and stole Whoppers or some lame thing like that
11. Pepsi "gotta have it card" where you could get like 2% off a purchase at Sam Goody on a purchase of fifty bucks or more, plus some free mints at selected CVSes
12. Those fruit snacks that only manifested themselves when the living trees, from whence they came, started shaking in a paralyptic convulsion. Those trees were on drugs too.
13."Vita pups " which were slush puppies available at my junior high school. Instead of sugar, the "base" ice was made with apple juice, and then you could add your flavor. I would sometimes get a "suicide" which was all the flavors mixed together.

14. "Jumpin Jack" doritos, which were monterey jack doritos. Now, everything has to be all extreme, with adjectives like "kickin" or "blazin" in front of it--as if the doritos were rollerblading to "The Offspring" or something.

15. Handi Snacks. They are still made today; some of my students eat them for snayck. The funny thing, though, is that little red "stick" thing by which one is supposed to take out the cheese product and spread it on the crackers. Some, more "cool" kids, would suck on this red stick for the next hour or so. But the thing that gets me is that in the Handi Snack factory, there has got to by one special room devoted to the "red stick" things. There has to be hordes of them. There have to be people working on that assembly line. And I bet some of those sticks "dont make the cut" and have to be thrown out. How sad. And someone is the manager of that section of the factory. And somewhere, someone's mom is very proud of their little boy who worked his way all the way up to "red stick quality control" supervisor at the Handi Snacks factory.

Sorry for the digression.

16. Hood Shake-Ups. These were awesome, prefabricated milkshakes you could buy in your grocer's dairy case. I dont see them anymore, and that's too bad, since you could really trick kids into getting more calcium. My mom used to get these for me whenever I had teeth extracted at the oral surgeon.

17. McDonald's Happy Meals that sometimes came in fuctional buckets instead of those paper box things. These buckets could then be taken to the beach, and played with. We didnt need some special movie to come out to have fun with our happy meals . . .just give us a bucket and we were happy.

18. Burger King's "International Chicken Sandwich" month, when they made three special chicken sandwiches which were supposed to represent three different countries: Italy, with marinara sauce and melted cheese; French, with ham and swiss cheese (go figure); and American, with the ultra creative and palatable lettuce and tomato. Go America sandwich!! Yeay!!! So different and innovative.

Too much work, too few vacations...

Jared and I went for a bike ride tonight, even though our outside thermometer said it was about 90 degrees. It was well worth it after a long, boring day at work. We rode down this beautiful country road in Fairfield - Upper Ridge Road. The ride out was quite tough - very hilly. However, on the way back into town, it was mostly downhill. It was GREAT! The breeze, the scenery, the smell of cow manure... It couldn't get any better. It made me think about how often we don't stop and take time for fun things.

After work Dad and I met at Grandmom and Grandpop's tonight to move furniture out of the dining room. Grandpop is renting Grandmom a hospital bed for the 1st floor since their bedroom is on the 2nd floor and we're not sure how she will do with steps. After we got done clearing out the dining room, we were just talking about, of all things, work. Things are crazy busy at the Office of Information Technology in state government, and Dad is doing the work of like five people. He is the best computer programmer ever!!! He is one of the hardest workers that I know. Sometimes he works too hard. Like now. And also the past 28 years that I've been alive. However, I know how he feels. It's the call of responsibility, plus an addiction to stress. But again, how important is this 'work'? Important enough to not take time to ride your bike down a country road for an hour, or to actually request a vacation and go somewhere WITHOUT your pager or computer? Our society moves too fast! If you're not busy all of the time, you're obviously doing something wrong. But I should talk... Jared and I have numerous messages on our answering maching that begin, "you guys are never home..."

Well people, I could go on, but then I'd sound like Jared.

~Amanda

Brookies, Guitar Hero, and Literacy too

For as much complaining as I do about work (doesnt everyone?), I firmly believe I teach at the best school in the state, with the most intelligent and talented faculty around. I am serious. I am involved in a conference on literacy and reading strategies that ran today and will finish up tomorrow. The level of conversation we are able to have with our small group of teachers who came to this conference of their own volition is amazing. I noted on my comment card that this is the first workshop in a long time where I wasn't looking at the clock--you know those days when you look at the clock and it is 8:30, and then 4 hours later its 8:38? Yeah. This wasn't, as my good friend and colleague Mike Smith noted, another workshop that can be conceptualized as an "educational driveby--" where you get all this crap jammed down your throat in a wicked concentrated amount of time . . .and you leave feeling riddled with jargon, instead of bullets, like it was when I lived in Compton. I feel excited to try some of this stuff out.

Good news on grandmom's surgery. And, also creeping up on us, is Mom's final push toward finishing up radiation. We hope to get to see her soon, as we havent seen her since mother's day and it would be nice to get together. Oh well . . .the hazards of living three hours away.

After the conference, it was off to the Lachapelle's to Dave's 40th birthday party. A good time to be with friends and colleagues like Zach, Rich, and Joyce. Note the picture of Joyce and I rocking out to Guitar Hero I--we collectively kicked butt on "Hooked on a Feeling" by BOSTON. Hopefully, this photo ends up in next year's yearbook. One can dream. We also headed down to Dave's self made trout pond, to watch the evening feeding frenzy. Dave feeds his Brookies (Mainespeak for "brook trout") these pellets that look like rabbit poop, but nonetheless get the fish to grow to about 15 inches. Pretty huge for a native brook trout, seeing as how ones you usually catch in local ponds run about 8 inches or so average. But, then again, these are "Barry Bonds" trout, eating "special food."

Tomorrow is supposed to be a scorcher. We're gonna turn on the air conditioner and read the latest National Geographic article about Arlington National Cemetery. Stay class San Diego

Fire People

Well, much to my chagrin, I found out today that "Ramblin' Root Beer" is no longer made; it was a Pepsi product, and it was replaced by Barq's, which, as I mentioned a few days ago, sucks. Or, as Monty Python would put it: "it has a tast like an Aboriginie's armpit." I apologize to all my outback friends . . .

There is a whole root beer culture out there, and it is kind of interesting to see the history of all the brands. Another great one was Hires, or I should say "is" Hires, since apparently one can buy this today. Hires is made by the Cadbury-Schwepps company. Arent you so interested in this? Hires was the first mass produced root beer, manufactured with the claim, like NO ONE ELSE seemed to suggest back then, that it was a "cure all" or "pancea" (that was for you jay and john). Enough root beer.

Today Sally and I worked outside for most of the day. I had some scrap wood from my friend Krazy Karl, so I figured I would build a trellis, since Thomas P. got me some Clematis for father's day--Clematis, for those who don't know, is an extremely viny plant that will climb all over anything it can; it produces really pretty red flowers, but not until next year. A picture is included for your viewing pleasure. I took a two hour nap while Amanda read her book outside--I was so deep into sleep that I didn't even hear the phone ring; I missed out on doing some great Striper fishing with my friend Dave. Oh well. I was tired from A.J.'s bachelor party last night. Tony and I headed up to Strong to meet Uncle Dana at his house, have a couple of drinks at his FANTASTIC bar which is being constructed in his basement, and then head up to Salem, Maine, which is think is one of the T-R18 types of towns (that is what they call towns in Maine that are so far into East Japeepie that they dont merit their own name). There, at the Reed camp, we watched a bunch of Iraqi war vets drink Bud, shoot each other with paint ball guns that cost more than my house, and fire off "Desert Eagle's," these pistols that I think the special forces are using over in Dirkadirkastan--they fire 50 caliber "bullets;" you can watch the fire spray out of the barrel as they pull the trigger. Then we ate some of the best venison steak I have ever had--shot by Gilbert Grape up in Anacosti Island in Canada.

Amanda and her mom cleaned the house at the Tall-Trees estate yesterday, in preparation for G-mom coming home in a few days. Today, after all was said and done, Amanda and I went for a nice long walk around Fairfield, got ice cream at Belanger's Dairy Bar, and made our way back to Military Ave. On the way, we noticed a family all sitting around a fire pit--mother, father, three kids. We are dead set on getting one soon; there truly is nothing like sitting around a fire, whether inside by the stove, or outside by the pit, to procure good, healthy "talk." The conversations fires seem to inspire are priceless--there's just something about sitting around something burning that is absolutely mesmerizing; maybe its the smell, maybe its the sound of the crackling knots, maybe its the different kind of warmth that doesnt seem too hot, even in the already spring or summer heat. But its truly magical. I think we are fire people. Some of the best moments Amanda and I have had at our house have involved, in some capacity, wood, wood splitting, woody from Toy Story, wood burning, and wood stacking. We feel blessed to have our wood stove and the ability to provide our own heat. Maybe some day some out of staters will come up in Fairfield and sit around our fire pit with us, and have some good old fashioned talkin'

Big week coming up with an "addition" of sorts being put on the house. More to come about that later . . .J & A

Homeward Bound

My first couple of days of summer vacation have been pretty laid back. I am trying to focus on getting the wood done once and for all, so I can clean up the lawn a little bit--I'd say we have a good five cord of wood to get the winter going. I can't wait until the winter when we can burn again. I hate the summer heat.

Does anyone remember Ramblin Root beer? It was the best out there, and now its gone. And we are left with insipid brands like Barqs and Mug, which both suck.

Why, every summer, is there some great white mystery involving some attractivete, rich woman who is either a)kidnapped on a cruise b)kidnapped from her house c) murdered d) abducted by aliens. Kind of funny how these things all seem to happen ONLY from the months of June-August. I can't believe it--right now Bush is singlehandedly ruining the world as we know it, and we are watching stories about some spoiled white girl who loved margaritas and "was just so sweet to everyone she met" that suddenly went missing. I wonder how many ethnic, less attractive, less monetary wealthy people go missing every day--even in the winter!

Today's picture is that of, quite possibly, the most physically strong person I have met. This is Grandmom, Amanda's . . .well . . .grandmom. She has been in intensive care almost exclusively since New Year's Day. What started off as a "simple" triple bypass ended up as a "sextuple??" bypass (six). Complications involving this surgery resulted in her being minutes from death a multitude of times. We remember lucidly phone calls from Lynne saying things like "if you want to see grandmom alive, come down ASAP," yet she has continued to defy the expectations of both physics and doctors alike with her miraculous healing. On Memorial Day weekend, we were down in Portland doing what we thought was "saying goodbye," since her lungs had shut down, they were FULL of fluid, and blood pressure only existed because it was being provided for her through electricity. It is kind of surreal walking out of a room saying goodbye to someone knowing that that is probably the last time you will see them. There comes that point when you have to physically say bye and physically walk out the room, and that is heartbreaking.

But, this picture was taken just yesterday in Portland. Grandmom is getting one final surgery on Monday to get a feeding tube removed, and then she is scheduled to come home on Tuesday or Wednesday. WHich is good for me, because I can finally get my pork and sauerkraut and my Barnes and Noble gift certificates for Christmas. Look, I know grandmom has been just barely hanging on, but, people, lets have some respect for me and my pork.

I'm just kidding. No hate mail please.

Up close and personal with Amanda's garden

Hi. Amanda here. I thought I would show a few pictures of my flowers. I love my flowers and my birds. I have yet to take any pictures of the birds that frequent my feeders, but hopefully this weekend I'll have a chance to sit outside quietly with my camera....waiting...

Anyway, I love growing flowers. Here are just a few pictures of the flowers in the beds that I've started. I'm hoping to expand them this year. My Dad has the best flower beds in the front of his house. I helped him plant them when I was still in high school and they are just so full and colorful when everything is in bloom. It's that real country garden look and I'm trying to do that here at my house but I think I have a few years to go before everything is matured.... Pictured here are Bachelor Buttons, Lupine, Salvia and Delphinum. I am waiting for my Bee Balm and Heliopsis to bloom. Hopefully soon...

~Amanda

LAST DAY OF SCHOOL!

So today was the last day of school for me (Jared). Its always bittersweet in a way, since you will be leaving people you work with, laugh with, and make fun of for the next couple of months. Today we all stood in line outside the office waiting for pizza, chips, and soda. But, soon enough, we'll all be standing in line waiting for plan books, white out, and attendance slips--not to mention this shady guy asking if you are going to sign up to join the union again (Hi Mike). Next year will be an interesting one to say the least. Actually, it will be more like a clusterbomb of sorts, with renovations and construction going on, not to mention a presumably new schedule of teaching "blocks." Thus, all classes will be 80 minutes instead of 45 minutes. This, according to the idiots in Washington and Augusta, will make kids grades go up. But this is not a ranting blog . . . .

Amanda has been hard at work in keeping up with the demand of her new hobby of birding (isnt there a scientific name for this? I think its orinthology or something). At any rate, she barely can keep up with keeping the feeders full. Just last night, as I watered the tomato plants, she filled the feeder by the barberry bush, and then, when I got home at 3 today, the feeder was empty. The birds love the barberry bush because, one, it is huge, two it is thorny and nothing can bother them when they hide in there, and three, there is an all you can eat buffet right beside the bush. Amanda loves her birds, and it is great to see her so excited about our new daily visitors. We've also been hard at work at keeping things watered, since we have had a lack of rain. We planted new hollies, rosebushes, thyme, and grass (the drug kind) and we're trying to make all of it grow.

We've got to give a "shout out," as these people call it, to our family in New Jersey--Aunt June and Uncle Bob, Keith, and Steve, Michelle, and Emma. And lets not forget Abby, one of my favorite animals in history. She is a 140 pound (I think) Newfie. This year has been a particularly trying one in the Goldsmith household--my mom has been treating for breast cancer, I have been sufferning from count choculitis, and grandmom has been in the hospital, mostly intensive care, since New Years Day. But seriously, this has been some year. It seems like every weekend throughout the winter we found ourselves down in Portland, visiting grandmom. One of the only bright spots, as far as we could see, was the realization of seeing the "zoo" from New Jersey more, as they came up several times to visit a VERY sick grandmom. For Amanda, it was a chance to visit with her family and go over the "good old days" when they used to steal Yoohoos in grandpop's basement and walk around in his golf shoes. And Jonathan got yelled at. And so did Keith. For me, it was a blessed opportunity to get to be with a part of my family I seldom get to see or bond with; it was a chance to connect and feel truly part of the family. And bond we did! Through my incessant charm (haha), I was able to cajole Emma into both liking and talking to me. This was some feat, considering how for the first three years of her life, I was, essentially, a non person. But now we are great buddies, and we go in the pool, sing crab songs, and pose for pictures. Amanda and I cannot wait to come down in August to have pork roll, Gay-tanos (sp), cheesesteak at Pat's, tastycakes, and fun times in the Dovey estate. Oh and crabs too.

Oh yeah, two more quick things:

1. You know those stupid stickers everyone has of Calivin, from Calvin and Hobbes, peeing on the Yankees or Fords or Red Sox? Why does everyone have that? And why does he pee so much? What does he drink? He is so rude and indecent and he pisses me off (pardon the pun). I want to have a sticker of Calvin peeing on the Ford logo, with Calvin, above, peeing on Calvin peeing on the Ford logo. Now that would be something.

2. Check out the "Obama" song on Youtube if you get a chance. Besides the Obama fan being . . um . . .nice . . .its a funny song. The chorus goes "I've got a crush on Obama." What I think would be funny is to make a parody of the song called "I've got a crush on your mama." This would be a parody of a parody, and that would rock.

"Brevity is the soul of wit"

In Shakespeare’s HAMLET, Polonius explains this to Claudius before expounding upon King Claudius just how mad—and utterly insane his “nephew” Hamlet is. “Brevity is the soul of wit.” Is this true? I think so. A truly witty, humorous, and memorable occurrence in all of our lives, arguably, stems from some momentary “snapshot” or “slice of life” with which we find ourselves enmeshed. How funny our little lives are here on earth. And how brief. In Shelly’s poem Ozymandias, the great king Ozymandias builds a large tower/statue of himself in the desert, thinking it will stand for all time. “I am the great Ozymandais,” he says ad nauseum, “I will forever reign.” Well, he didn’t say that verbatim, but you get the point. What is ironic, upon reading the poem, is how, years and years later, modern people (archaeologists or whatever) find the remnants of the statue and wonder who the heck this Ozymandais was. “Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair,” he says. Kind of funny, huh?

Yes, our lives, fortunately or unfortunately, are transient, yet so full of wit; they provide stories for others to remark about and laugh at. And then, one day, we are gone. In Faulkner’s “A Rose For Emily,” Ms. Emily, the anomalism of the town, stays inside her house for years and years—nothing comes out except this intense smell. “What could it be,” the townspeople wonder. Emily provided stories to be told by the townspeople—she became a folk tale in her own community. She married a “Yankee” from the North, who later died and was buried. She was devastated, and this only added to her reclusiveness. Then she died. She was gone. And the townspeople got their wish—they got to see what the smell was. She has exhumed her deceased husband, dressed him in his wedding garb, and laid him on the bed next to where she slept. One of her “silver gray hairs” was recumbent against the indentation of the bed’s pillow.

A lot of people have these types of stories about lives we neither know nor understand until the truth comes out—and when it does, it provides us with these stories (like the ones I write about now). My colleague remembers “Walking George,” as he was called, a mentally retarded Vassalboro, Maine townie who was absolutely reliant on his mother for all his needs. He earned the moniker for his incessant walks down the country roads of Vassalboro. Day or night. When his mother did finally die, he kept her in the house, in her carrion state, for, what the authorities estimate to be, about six or seven weeks.

Along with the fascination of the “unknown dead” comes my own testimony from my Dover, NH days, when I rented about the seediest, most terrible living space I can imagine. It abutted another shady looking house where lived a UNH Professor Emeritus of theater—his “concentration,” I believe, was in marionette puppets, for when his door remained open on warm spring nights, I could see a plethora of glazed glass eyes from the puppets faces staring at me ominously from the kitchen. My then girlfriend Amanda was pretty freaked out by the whole thing. And then spring became summer, summer became fall, and then he started staying in more. I never got to talking to him much, but I did notice that his car barely ever left his driveway—all through the winter he was stationary; he didn’t even plow or shovel. Perhaps he winters in Florida, I thought.

And then, spring came again. Once Saturday I was greeted by his kids, who did live in Florida, moving stuff out of dad’s house. It was late March and he had been dead since Christmas. And no one knew. And, presumably, no one cared. What made this story all the more fascinating was how when my brother in law Jonathan (who happened to be down for the weekend) and I left for a run, one of the professor’s sons asked us if we wanted any “pornos.” Kind of a strange question for a Saturday morning, I said, especially when I’ve never met you. He laughed. Then he proceeded to bring three forty gallon trash bags OVERFLOWING with 70 and 80’s porn VHS tapes. He tossed them into the rented dumpster with the nonchalance as if they were old ceramic “Charming Tales” dust collector figures no one wanted. Apparently, our professor was into more than just puppets.

It’s a funny story, but a sad one. Brevity truly is the soul of wit. For this one modicum of time, the professor, Walking George, and Ms. Emily were the subjects of a funny story shared at a coffee shop, a bar, a party. But for them, these stories were their lives. The common denominator for all was that they involved, in some capacity, the dead. Which begs the question: How many of us are dead inside right now? Are we the walking dead too? How many of the smiling faces which we see every day are really just masks of an individual dying inside of loneliness, depression, alcoholism, domestic abuse, or more? And will our lives, so brief, become stories which will be passed down, for better or for worse, forever? What type of secret do you harbor?

“When we go our lives will be like comet dust
Coming round the world as both of us
Our stories and memories still survive”

Jared Goldsmith

"25 Again"

Thomas...after a visit from his cousin Chelsea

So this past weekend (Father's Day) Thomas got to visit with his cousin Chelsea. Chelsea is a very cute American Eskimo dog and she and Thomas love to play together. Well, Chelsea loves to try to play with Thomas, but Thomas, being a 10 year old male cat, would rather just lay around and clean himself. They do love to be together though, especially when they're looking out the front door or sleeping on the kitchen rug. These pictures show what Thomas does for a week after a visit with his cousin. Thomas says "I can't wait to see you in 2 weeks, cousin! Save me a donut hole!"

Final Exam Meanderings . . .

This week is final exam week at WHS, and I am pretty sure that we are the only school in the Pine Tree state NOT out yet. I teach seniors, so today I was helping out by covering detention for kids who still owed time. I like this time of year, since I get to do some real reading for next year--picking short stories and the like to include in my curriculum next year. Today I read, amongst other stories, "A Rose for Emily" by William Faulkner--a haunting tale of "true love," if you will. The story actually reminds me of something my friend Johnny Crockett used to do with one of his former girlfriends, but I digress.

Up in Maine this past Friday there was an article about how the state prison's commissary went from being "state run" to being run by a private vendor. This caused all kinds of headaches for the poor inmates, as now they have to 50 cents, not 20 cents, for cajun chicken ramen noodles. Also, atomic fireballs went up from 40cents to 70 cents!!! Can you believe it? Someone needs to help these poor rapists, murderers, and pedophiles! This is an injustice! One prisoner even remarked, and I quote, "this is highway robbery what they are doing to us!" These poor inmates are being "raped" by the system.

But, the mission of the correctional system is to help inmates adapt into "regular" society again, so maybe this ain't such a bad idea . . .

Well, I'm off to my bike ride home. I love riding to and from school. Especially if you are morbidly obese like me--Jared

Father's Day Weekend Cookout

What a great weekend to be with family! Hank the Crank and Babs came up Friday afternoon, followed by Kristin, Anthony, and Chelsea a few hours later. Friday night we went to Asian Cafe and I (Jared) tried soft shell crab . . .very interesting. Saturday was a gluttony festival, as we had Antwon's special stuffed mushrooms, George's shrimp, Lt. Dan's pickled Polish saaauuuusage made by yours truly, and plenty of cheese and crackers. For the main entree, we had marinated steak tits by Hank, marinated vegetables by Georgeth, and I made Chicken Spiedies. Sally Piles made her famous canoli cake for dessert--always fantastic. It was so great to have everyone together (we missed you Mom, Bob, Grandmom, and Grandpop) and have people stay at our house for the weekend. Every spare room had people sleeping in them--well, mostly sleeping. Anthony made his "mixed" drinks, which aren't really mixed, since they are mostly alcohol with a splash of juice. Babs walked Chelsea around the yard at 5, 5:15, 5:20, 5:22, and 5:45. Thomas P. and his cousin Chelsea got along and even shared a couple of naps--not to mention donuts. The pictures above show Dad in his party-shirt drinking alcohol for the first time since we went to Disney World when I was in the second grade. Then, Antwon and I went for a big gay bike ride around the neighborhood. He is so hot! Kristin, Anthony, and Chelsea posed --what a cute family. And the last picture is of Lynne, George, and Sally. We're glad Lynne will be around more now that she moved back to Mt. Vernon from Portland . . .Some other hi-lights include Dad's stool, Barbara's tea, Chelsea and Thomas eating munchkins, George getting lit up, and Anthony and Nacho (Mel) making a "video" together . . . .a true blessing to all be together

Our First Entry . . . .

This is our very first blog entry . . . .its Sunday night, and our wireless connection is finally fixed, so Sally Piles (what I call Amanda--"Salamander-->Salamanda-->Sally AND "piles" because all she does is leave piles of crap around the house like books, yarn, bills, and pieces of my heart) and I are settling down to do some blogging. Not much to post here . ..we want to make sure everything works okay before doing an "actual" entry . . .