Thomas Makes A New Friend On A Sad Evening

This is Thomas and his new friend Constance. Constance the Reading Owl was picked up at Starbucks last night and lives on Amanda's nightstand, constantly reading. If Amanda was an owl, she would be Constance. Constance is reading Thomas a story.

No time for a blog yesterday--sorry about that. It was last night at about 6 or so when my mom gave us a call to let us know Nana Courtney (my mom's mom) was dying. As of the time of this writing (5pm on Thursday) she is still alive. Apparently, she had a stroke; now, she is essentially on a morphine drip to keep her comfortable while her system slowly shuts down. So, all there is to do is wait and hope. The waiting is for her to die, and the hoping is that she will do it without pain. Nana has been suffering from a progressively deepening case of Alzheimer's Disease for a number of years, and, in many ways, we lost her long ago. What a mysterious thing Alzheimer's is; I guess, for me, whenever I am feeling sad, lost, or hopeless about something, I find solace in the nostalgia of thinking about the past--the good times, the memories, the people who've impacted my life. But Nana has been unable to do this for some time now.

There is a book I remember reading when I was younger called THE GIVER, by Lois Lowry. In it, humans have created a society where memory is "selective," and people have no ownership over their own memories or pasts. One boy has the job of "giving"memories to people. How awful. Imaginging NOT having memory is like imagining forgetting how to speak English, or trying to think about how big the universe is, since every star we see could be a separate solar system. It is unfathomable. And this is something Nana has been dealing with for three years.

Sometimes its difficult to put the words together to formulate just what you want to say, and this is one of those times. I find myself constantly erasing sentences and shaking my head at how jumbled this entry is. I havent seen my grandmother much since we've moved to Maine--we went down to see her when we could, but I conceded long ago that the Nana Courtney I knew and loved was now a vapid reminder of her former self.

But what a sharp wit she had--up through the final time I saw her this past January. What a flavor she had for the sarcastic and flippant comment. I know this is something I inherited from her. My grandmother read more books and did more crossword puzzles in her lifetime than I'll ever come close to doing. She worked, FULL TIME, until she was 85 years old, hardly ever missing a day. She raised six children on her own in the Roxbury and Dorchester projects of Boston in the 1950's. She lost two husbands to heart attacks within about 6 years of each other. She made wonderfully rich French Toast. She always had a full jar of M&Ms and an unopened can of Pringles. She appreciated my cynical sense of humor, and I could see in her eyes, even up to the last time we saw her, that she knew me on a deeper level than I may have previously thought.

Can we ever truly forget everything?

New School Year

Today was my second day of school, although I dont actually teach students until tomorrow. Monday was a day of meetings and setting up, and today was freshmen only. Luckily, for the time being I am back to teaching all seniors, and no freshmen (as I did last year). This is a break for me, since now I only have four classes to prepare for instead of five. I am teaching general English, college prep English, honors English, and public speaking. For me, the funny thing about teaching is this: I LOVE being in the classroom, reading stories, talking about writing, and having discussions with students--basically, all the things I am supposed to do in my profession. What I abhor is all the politics involved in education--special ed, consolidation conversations, data, state assessments, etc. I truly believe if the average citizen had an idea of what Bush's "No Child Left Behind" truly entailed, they might think this program even more ridiculous than the war he's started in Iraq. Unfortunately, it seems like politics always takes the forefront, and we tend to forget about cultivating minds and forming relationships. Oh well . . .enough venting.

My classroom is ready to go for tomorrow. Some of the books I'll teach this year are THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO, A SEPARATE PEACE, HAMLET, AND THEN THERE WERE NONE (a great Agatha Christie mystery), IN THE HEART OF THE SEA (a true shipwreck story--excellent), THE LONGEST WINTER (a new text for me this year--a book about a platoon during the Battle of the Bulge, and consequently one of the best all around books I have read in years!), and PRIVATE PARTS by Howard Stern. I love his usage of the semicolon in his ornate passages. I'll also throw in some poetry, a term research paper, and the college essay unit that is always fun. I truly love teaching English--I just wish I got to do it more, without having to deal with a bunch of other crap (sorry . . venting again)

I love getting back into a routine . . .. the toughest thing about being a teacher, I think, is that you constantly have to change routines, and I am a creature of habit. Tonight Amanda and I went for a nice walk, discussing the zoo from NJ coming this weekend. Also, we cannot wait to go back to Camden for some more fun

More to come soon . . .

Meanderings 9- A Few Thoughts

First of all, I hope you all enjoyed the video of my super hot daddy. I know my sister, mother, and brother in law all just about wet their pants at work today. I love inspiring people to wet their pants. Thanks to Fuzzy for the inspiration (and the link to the site) so we could make this great video. Ironically enough, my dad cannot figure out how to open this video on his computer. Additionally, he seems to have no interest in doing so at work either. Oh well. Here are some meanderings running through my mind as of late . . . .

1. Do we get "ma'am," as in "yes ma'am" and "no ma'am" from the word "mammories?" All people fitting enough to call ma'am have mammories after all, dont they? Are we really just referring to woman as "mammories," and thus have shortened it to ma'am? I'd like to think so . . .On the same note, does "sir" come from "sirloin," as in the part of the cow? Which one came first?

2. Pissed at the post office for constantly upping their rates? I've figured out a way to really stick it to them: Write a bogus address in the "normal," middle part of the envelope. Then,

write the address YOU WANT the letter to be delivered to in the "return address" section in the upper left hand corner. Don't put a stamp on it. The post office will "return to sender" for inadequate postage . . .and the "sender" is the person you wanted to reach anyway! So what if its a federal offense . . .its fun!!! And how could they ever prove what you were doing? Have people been doing this for a long time? If so, I'll feel dumb. I think I've really got something here!

3. On our way to New Jersey, driving through the night, we stopped at a rest area in New York to use the restroom at about 3am. The men's room . . .like many men's rooms I have seen . . .had a baby changing station bolted to the wall; you know those things that fold down to make a make-shift changing table? Anyway, under the English sign that read "baby changing station," there was the same thing written in braille. Maybe it was because it was 3am, but I found this extremely amusing and I got to thinking. I dont think I've ever seen a blind person change a diaper. Would that be interesting to watch? Or is that wicked mean? How do they know . . .where . . .um . . .everything is? Think about this. George Carlin once said "you never see any elderly midgets . . .apparently their life spans are short too." The same about blind parents; you never seem them with infants, do you? Furthermore, how would the blind person KNOW their was a baby changing station there in the first place? The thought of them rubbing their hands up and down the bathroom wall, as they walked slowly from side to side searching for braille, is one that makes me smile. Sometimes we are so PC in our ultra-liberal culture that it is ridiculous.

4. I can't stand those people who interrupt a class/meeting/church service/intimate conversation, and make SUCH a big deal out of being QUIET, that they end up drawing MORE attention to themselves than they would if they just came in, did their business in a normal fashion, and then got the heck out. You know these people--they walk into the room with huge, exorbitantly strideful tip-toe steps so EVERYONE can see them . . . and then they crinkle their shoulders up to their necks, grimace in a tight face, and whisper SAWWWW-REEEEE wicked loud, accentuating each syllable of the word to last at least a second and a half each. By this point, everyone politely smiles or chuckles because, after all, these attention getters are trying to be as "tactful" as possible after all. Damn this pisses me off. A loud whisper!? If you want attention, go pose for Playboy. Get the heck out of my sight . . . .

My Talented Father

Star in Your Own JibJab! It's Free!I hope I can someday be just like him!

Camden!

Camden is, by far, my favorite coastal Maine town. I love Mt. Desert Island, and Bar Harbor itself is okay, but when it comes to quintessential tourist towns, Camden takes the cake. I just have so many great memories of Camden, stemming mostly from my time sailing windjammers out of Camden for two summers, along with 15 beautiful 24 year old female Swiss exchange students. But that is a different story. . . . .

Today was great . . .the rain held off, and there was a nice cool seabreeze. We checked out a lot of the great shops, spending a good deal of time in Camden Shoe, where both Mom and I got "back to school" shoes. Another store of interest was Once A Tree, where lots of cool wooden products are sold. Mom bought us each a magnet, and Kristin fell in love with a giraffe. We had a great lunch at the Quarterdeck, and I made a new friend with a pirate! He was sexy. Mom ordered a chicken pesto pizza, and then when it came, she exclaimed, "what's this?" When we explained it was pesto, she answered "but I dont like pesto." Good. I think she was still shaken up from this morning's trauma. The Smiling Cow is a mainstay of Camden, and we went in there for a bit; Sally bought some fudge, and they had a lot of great anti Bush stuff there. My favorite sticker said "1-9-09" and then said "When we're done bringing democracy to Iraq, how about a little here!" Very true. We meandered into a neat wine store, and I bought a bottle of "Sam Smith's Oatmeal Stout," imported from Yorkshire, England. It was a beautiful day, and Mom was great in the car! She didnt complain about the distance of the one hour trip, she enjoyed all the scenery, didnt beg to get out, and she constantly complimented my driving, whether I was going fast or slow. We did past the time making fun of Bob, and that is always good to do. I cant go into detail, but we had a good laugh.

Tomorrow is the last day of my summer vacation!!

Annie's Misadventures

Well I hope Mom had a good time in Maine this weekend; suffice to say she did not have the best luck with stuff during a few instances this weekend. This morning at about 6, she awoke to let Chelsea out to go the bathroom. Amanda and I were upstairs with the door closed and the air conditioner on. The Kranthony's were down in the den with two turbo fans running. This left Mom on the middle floor all by herself. Not realizing that the door was locked behind her, she shut it, thinking that all was good. Only after Ms. Monroe did her business on the lawn did Mom realize she was locked out. And no one knew it. And no one could hear her. First, she leaned on the doorbell for about ten minutes. Obviously, no one heard. Then, she took my pair of clogs and banged incessantly on the hollow wooden step for fifteen minutes. Obviously, no one heard. What you need to remember, however, is that Chelsea Monroe barked without stopping during all the banging and ringing. No one heard. Well, all our neighbors woke up probably. Eventually, she walked into the backyard and took a rock and started banging on the basement window by where Kranthony was sleeping. I dont know why she needed a rock, but that is another story. She frightened Kristie half to death, but she got back inside.

Part Two . . . .

Mom has been talking about having fried dough for the past two weeks. She even went and got a new electric skillet and brought it up. Understand, this is all the woman has been talking about. We had really violent thunderstorms up here, so we "set up shop" in the garage, where there was a nice cross breeze. It was a very white trash fried dough party; it was like we were at the fair. We are getting progressively more cultured; last time it was the bonfire in the wheelbarrow, and this time it was fried dough in the garage. The fried dough was delicious and everything was going great. Then, for some reason still unknown to me, Mom comes out and was adamant that we unplug the frying pan. She was afraid Chelsea would knock it over I think, even though Chelsea had been out with us for the past half hour. In the process of unplugging the pan, she knocked the entire skillet off the table, dumping three-quarters of a bottle of hot Wesson on the floor of the garage. She then proclaimed in a calm voice, "I dont like it out here. Goodbye." Luckily, Thomas was right there and suggested he use litter from his busybox to rub all over the oil to absorb some. Thanks Thomas, for always putting other's needs before your defecation habits!

Finished . . .I think

Its late and we just finished up with the new room. We had a goal to finish it by Friday, and we did it. I think I made a few little mistakes, however--but it was my first time with finish carpentry. Amanda has worked really hard with painting--all this week she has been in bed after midnight, and up for work the next day. So, since she has done such a great job, I let her pick out a new pair of Norther Nights sheets from QVC--its her favorite channel. This women loves sheets like I love crab rangoon. I've never seen anyone or anything get so excited about sheets. Anyway, sorry for the quick post, but I wanted to get some pictures up for you to see (Dad, you asked for some). It was hard to get a good angle (thats what . . .). Tomorrow I am off to my yearly physical, and then the Kranthony's and Mom are coming up for the weekend. Lots of adventures and good blogs to come for sure! Tomorrow night, the WIllards will be joining us for a bbq dinner at our house. Should be great . . . .

Sally's Workshop

This little breezeway/mudroom addition thing we're doing is really starting to bug me; its amazing just how much work there is to do for such a little thing (thats what she . . . ). I commend anyone who has ever renovated or built their entire house. So many meticulous details to consider.

Sally has agreed to do the painting for three reasons

1. she likes painting

2. I suck at it

3. I have done most of the other stuff (I can hear grandmom yelling from here)

She is making great progress though, and there is just a little bit more to do until we are done with the whole room. I did the finish carpentry work the other day, measured and cut it, tacked it up, and then took it down so it was easier for Sally Piles to paint. Just some touch ups, and gluing the carpet down, and then its time to start drinking beer out there. Being the "expert" carpenter that I am (complete lie), I even built Thomas Pee two really nice extra wide window sills where he can sleep.

I "sold out" twice today. The first example of this was how I went to school; I combined my morning bike ride with a stopover in Black Raider country. Thus, I gave into guilt, and broke my rule not to go in this year until school started. I got to see Earl, however, and that was well worth the trip. He is our fearless leader/custodian/resident punchline, and he knows the inside scoop on everything. My schedule looks pretty good--or as good as it can be with block scheduling, I guess (I wont bore non-educators with the details). The good news is that I teach all seniors this year (last year I had a freshmen class in addition to my seniors). I'm looking forward to getting back to school, seeing students and faculty, and implementing some of my new ideas (thats what she . . .)

The second way I sold out today, as you can see from the picture, was that I bought an iPod nano. I am pretty excited though . . . .Now I am unique . . .just like 13 billion other Americans who have one. I think tomorrow I will go to Starbucks, wear crocs, and listen to my iPod while I read the latest Harry Potter. Then I'll look really original. I have zero skills with technology, so this should be pretty interesting. Everyone says "oh its so easy," but thats because they have fused brain synapses . . .I do not. Amanda and I are both looking forward to using the iPod, and possibly getting rid of XM Radio, which has gone downhill faster than Bush's approval rating. That's a story for another time, but suffice to say that, except for MLB, XM's music seems to really suck. Cocky DJ's and arcane playlists.

Hey, props to Mel by the way, who chimed in with a comment on the "trapper keeper" blog." She brought up something I forgot when she mentioned how she got a "five star" binder to look "more mature" after she had outgrown the trapper keeper. Go Mel. Yeay Five Star!

Meanderings 8 - My Soapbox

1. I give it about another year or so before some really smart, conniving person sues Dunkin' Donuts (and wins millions of dollars) claiming that they are "addicted" to their coffee, and Dunkin Donuts failed to put on their cups, right under the "warning: this beverage is hot" label, one that reads "caffeine is an addictive drug." They'll claim that they were in fact "unknowingly" sold a beverage containing an addictive drug (aka cigarettes), and now they HAVE to have Dunkin Donuts coffee every day, and they are now broke/crabby/going through withdrawal/suffering with coffee stained teeth/sleep deprived. They'll claim an addiction. This is the society in which we live, and you KNOW this will happen. And the person who does this will laugh all the way to the bank . . .

2. Those idiots who cause auto accidents on the highway and back up traffic for miles should be criminally charged--this is a blatant example of "disturbing the peace" if I ever saw one. The police report and insurance suits should determine who was at fault for the accident. The person at fault should do jail time for disturbing the peace and ruining everyone's day. There is NOTHING worse than sitting in traffic for an hour, only to finally see the Hummer/Expedition/Yukon on the median strip, obviously a result of aggressive driving. This selfish action disturbs the "environmental peace" by loading the atmosphere with exhaust from hundreds of idling cars. It disturbs the "physiological peace" by raising blood pressures, causing people to be late for, lets say, an important doctors appointment or a medication time. It disturbs the "civil peace" by making everyone crazy and irritable from sitting in their cars in the hot sun. Essentially, it ruins hundreds, if not thousands of people's days (some of these accidents close whole highways for HOURS). And, basically, its all ONE PERSON'S FAULT. Whether they were drinking or not, they should go to jail. Even if only for a few days---so THEIR lives are inconvenienced.

3. I hate tractor trailers, and I think they should be illegal. Lets bring back trains more. Not only are the big rigs annoying and aggressive, but also they are dangerous. If one is in front of you on the highway, its big box trailer height blocks the sign you are trying to read! And, they are so tall that they block the view of traffic lights if its right in front of you--you can't see what color it is. And when the light turns green, and it takes the idiot 15 minutes to get into third gear and reach a walloping 20 mph, that is fine . . . .but God forbid you go too slow in front of them on the highway--if you are in the "middle" lane (which is the travelling lane, by the way) and one comes up behind you, you BETTER move out of the way. They've got somewhere to be that is more important than your place. I propose that tractor trailers be illegal on the road except between the hours of 10pm and 7am. This is a good nine hours when the majority of "regular" motorists are off the road. There would be less traffic and less aggression. If they want to drive like idiots, let them get in accidents with each other--not us. Nine hours of drive time is a more than large enough window in which to work. The average worker (excluding teachers, of course) only works eight. Plus, after nine hours of driving, they are tired, and they are a safety risk to be on the road anyway! DOT workers work through the night on road construction so as not to interfere with the general public. Why can't truckers?

3. Another public restroom thing that pisses me off: Those stupid sinks (probably designed to save water) where the water ONLY comes out while the knob on the faucet is being turned. As soon as you take your hand away from "holding" the faucet on, the water stops. This is ridiculous. You have to lather with two hands, and then you try to rinse them off, but its impossible of course, because one hand has to be on the water knob. Then you end up in this ridiculous "race" against technology, thinking your hand can be faster than the water is to shut off. But you always lose. You always lose.

4. I saw some cookies in Hannaford the other day that said "chocolate chip flavor." I didnt know chocolate chip was a flavor. I always thought CHOCOLATE was the flavor of chocolate chips. I went looking for some potato flavored potato chips, but got sidetracked looking at the raspberry flavored grape juice

5. Parsley is the red-headed stepchild of all the herb family. No one really cares about it, and it gets left out of most things. While more exciting, more attractive herbs like oregano, basil, mint, and thyme find themselves enmeshed in a plethora of culinary concoctions, you've got pathetic parsley just sitting on the side of the plate, away from all the action, just hanging out, waiting to be noticed. It tries to look as pretty as it can, but no one really gives a crap. A lot of times, its got a piece of orange or something sitting on its face. The best it can hope for is that it'll be chewed for 13 seconds while someone tries to mask their bad breath, caused by a cooler herb. But usually the person realizes just how awful the parsley tastes, and spits it out.

6. Who remembers Trapper Keepers? These things were awesome. These allowed parents everywhere to "distract" their son or daughter from the fact that they were going actually "back to school." It was great subliminal marketing; we didnt give a crap--we were getting a Trapper Keeper! What kind did you have? I opted for the more conservative one, with a photo of a tiger on it. There was one that read "Rock and Roll." That was a big seller. I think Kristie had little baby kittens playing next to a daisy patch or something like that. Did you accessorize yours? Did you get the octagonal sort of folders? The looseleaf paper? Did yours have the mesh pencil holder inside? Did your velcro wear out too? Why dont they make them any more? I got the "keep" part, but what the heck did they "trap?" For me, they "trapped" my grade, since I was always looking at and playing with my Trapper Keeper, and not paying attention to my teacher. Today, kids get iMacs and laptops when they go back to school. But we knew what was REALLY up. We were the Trapper Keeper kids . . . .

Answering Your Questions

Good morning. I thought I would take this quick opportunity to explain some things.

1. The question has been asked "what does the 'P' in Thomas Pee stand for? Good question, and I'm glad our fans show interest in our firstborn. The "P" could stand for several things--patient, promiscuous, provocative, phlegmatic, or post-civil war, which are all attributes Thomas possesses. I dont really know how that started? I think Amanda started it, but I am not sure. Doesnt he just look like he should have "Pee" for his middle name? One note: the "pee" in Thomas Pee does not refer to urine or anything unsightly such as that (Thomas is genteel and would have no debauchery). Rather, we have spelled his middle name out phonetically, so as to model good reading strategies (he DOES start kindergarten this year). One interesting note about Thomas--originally, we were going to name him "Belfast." But when we got him home and started calling him Belfast, it just didnt look right. The name given to him at the humane society in Dover NH was in fact Thomas, and we felt that was just a better fit. We had a dialogue about it, and decided to keep Thomas. He isnt a "Belfast;" he is a gentleman, and should be named as such. Those who know him understand . . .

I guess the question should be: what does Thomas "P" mean to you?

2. The Phillies hat. This is not "cheating" on my first (and only) love--the Red Sox. I got to thinking that I need a national league team to root for. I chose the Phillies for the following reasons:

• I love cheesesteak



• Amanda's family are on Phillies fans, so that's one thing we agree on now



• The "P" could stand for Thomas Pee if I wanted it to



• I spend time in Philadelphia every once in a great while, and its a great city



• The Eagles could never win a championship (sorry Steve)



• I look so hot in red



• Their manager is a cute, corpulent, octogenarian



• They dont seem to have any hot-heads or big names to cause a hoot-a-nannie



• Amanda has a bunch of Mike Schmidt autographs



• Germans LOVE David Hasselhoff

Party, Painting and Paddles

Hello. Amanda here...

This morning we went to Mandy Pelotte's baby shower. It was held at her sister Sabrina's house up in Strong (which, for you out-of-staters is actually the name of the town). It was a really beautiful morning; the weather has been my favorite recently! I love the hint of autumn in the air. Anyway, it was great to see the Pelottes and also the Jellisons. Mandy is due in about 5 weeks and she looks great! After everyone went home we stayed to visit with Sabrina, Dana and their two kids Patia and Rowan, which was really nice because we've never really spent time with them outside of a party or axis-and-allies gathering. I hope we get to see more of them.

So I don't have any pictures of the breezeway, or what we're now calling the 'mudroom', but I will say that I have finished all of the painting I can do for now. The doors and the walls all have their two coats of paint on, and the ceiling is also done (thanks muffles). So now all we have to do is put up the trim, or the 'finish carpentry' as Jared likes to call it, which I believe Jared is going to attempt tomorrow. After Jared finishes that project, I'll paint the trim and we'll put down the carpet. I'll wash the windows and then we'll be all set! We're hoping to have it done before Krathony and Mum come to visit this weekend.

Around 6 pm we loaded the canoe onto the car and took off for Messalonskee Stream. When I say 'took off' I really mean drove the 7 minutes it takes to get to the 'carry-in only' boat launch. While getting into the canoe I slipped and fell into a big mud hole. That was fun. We did see a great blue heron, a beaver dam, a turtle and a little boy on a bicycle. We also went under a scary bridge where they're doing some construction, probably due to the bridge collapse that happened recently. When we got back I DID NOT fall into the mud hole. The pictures above are from our paddle. Jared doesn't like getting his picture taken while paddling, but I took it anyway.

Something's Missing

For as much travelling and joy we've both experienced this summer, there still is an enduring emptiness we feel as the summer we've loved so much draws to a close--our trip to the Smith Island Camp on Seventh Lake in the Adirondacks. Each summer we truck our way up there to meet up with our dear friends the Clauss-Veal's, and Brian Smith. It is traditionally our favorite week of the year; a week spent in quiet solitude on a remote island "camp" dating back to 1901. Only recently has electricity been added to the camp, and all our cooking is done on the Queen Atlantic stove you see pictured above. This year was a difficult one to schedule everyone; Brian recently was ordained as an Episcopal Priest and he has started his work in St. Augustine Florida.

Words simply can't do justice what this week means to us, so I won't even try. Andrea, Michael, and Brian are those rarest of friends; we see each other maybe twice a year, but when we do, we seem to pick up where we last left off, and practically finish each other's sentences. Our mornings are spent in the enveloping warmness of the stove heated kitchen, cooking breakfast on cast iron skillets, playing cribbage, and perusing cookbooks which have lived in the Smith family for decades (how about "soup for an invalid" or "squirrel pie?"). Afternoons involve sitting on the huge dock outside of the boathouse, and moving as the spirit leads, whether that means swimming around the island, waterskiing, paddling a handmade Adirondack Guide Boat, or just enjoying the words on the pages of whatever book's we've brought.

The reason for the nostalgia today is because of what we received in the mail only a couple of days ago. Each year, as a tradition, we all write a song about our experiences during the past week. On the last night, we perform the song, while Michael tapes it. Sounds silly I know, but Clauss is a GENIUS with the digital camcorder and all the editing it entails. He is diligent to take ample footage throughout the week of all our (mis)adventures, and then, during the "offseason" when we are back home, he wields the song and footage into what could easily pass for a professionally edited video. Usually we get this a moth or two after the reunion, when we are back in school and work, and watching it usually gives us goosebumps and a longing to be back.

We just received this past year's video--we had to wait a whole year for it. But well worth it, it was. I had trouble watching it though; I worry, as years go by and people get older, that friends and times we love so much might slip away, lost in an abyss deep like an Adirondack lake. I'm sure you can relate: some moments in our time on earth just seemed so perfect . . .too good to have happened. The curse we must endure as humans is that when they DID happen, we let them slip away.

But oh, how slowly they move, begging to be noticed by us; they want our attention. Why can't we give it to them? Why do we turn our heads away so fast? And why do these seemingly perfect moments procure a type of sadness once relived? I read an article the other day which made me mad. Some writer somewhere claimed that within the next twenty years, a type of computer will exist that will be smarter than a human being. And, twenty years after that, one computer will be smarter than the whole human race. I don't need to listen to the garbage. I dont need to read "The World Is Flat." I don't need to fear technology like this.

Will a computer be able to exhale a breath so deep it can feel a whole day's stress float away up into cool northern air? Can it feel the refreshment from diving into a spring fed lake at night, and then surface, float quietly, and marvel at the loon calls in the distance? And can any type of non-human, without a heart and a soul, shed any type of tear, watching any type of video, showing five beautiful friends, dressed like idiots, singing a chorus about "Barbie Dolls?"

Administrivia . . . .

Don't you just hate that word? I do. Its like saying "guesstimate." Amanda and I have had a fantastic summer, full of travelling, eating, and sightseeing. But now are travels are over, and it is time to start buckling down, doing chores that we've put off all summer, and getting ready for school, which starts in a WEEK.

Since we got home from Edgewater Park, we have been busy "tying up loose ends," so to speak. Yesterday was a landscaping day, where I mowed and trimmed the yard, then edged out some beds. The lack of rain has had NO effect on the number of weeds growing in just about every place we want not weeds to grow. So I weeded a bunch. Then I patched up some bare spots with grass seed and hayed them. Then I fertilized the rosebushes. Then I put two coats of black anodized paint on our firepit. After this, I watered our "near death" tomatoes that didnt get enough water from the week we were gone--we have been getting some delicious tomatoes from our two plants already!

They have been doing work on our street now for the second summer in a row, and I think they are almost done, but I think, essentially, these chubby carhart wearing forty-somethings just never grew up and still love playing with their trucks. I'll get flack from someone for saying this, but its amazing just how "not" hard public works/DOT people work. I swear, seven stand around while one works. They are on a perpetual coffee break. If you don't believe me, then come sit out on the end of Bill Cyr's driveway with the rest of the neighborhood and look for yourself.

Today I continued with some yard work, and then ran some errands, first stopping at "Babe's Shoe Repair." Ask yourself this question: name at least three cobblers in your area? Yeah . . .me too. Babe's is awesome, for the way in which he is all about good old fashioned customer service, as well as the way he is preserving a lost art. I think, these days, kids and adults alike are prone to just "throw something away" if it is broke. I have had the same pair of ECCO shoes since I was a junior in high school, and I am heartbroken to say that they, only now, are un-fixable--even for Babe. I had him repair a pair of Birkenstock clogs two years ago, and I brought them in to have the sole re-glued. Not only did he do it while I waited, but he was adamant that I not pay him, since he was "not about to let [me] pay for [his] poor workmanship." Try and find a guy like him around these days . . . .

After Babe's, it was off to Mardens, where, last night, Amanda and I really did "bought it when we saw it . . .at Mardens!" We bought a great waterhog type indoor-outdoor carpet for the new room, and I went to go pick it up in the truck today. For those unaware, Mardens is like a Spags or a Building 19 in Maine. We got a super deal on this carpet, which I will install myself after Amanda finishes painting tomorrow. I also picked up some shelf brackets so I could properly display my beer bottle collection on the wall of the den. A sure conversation piece of "book club" meetings after school. And finally, I put down some of my homemade sauerkraut in a big crock which I keep in the basement--it should be fermented and ready to go by Labor Day weekend.

Amanda and I had a nice night which included Taco Bell, visiting G-pop and G-mom in Readfield, and then reading our books. We have both read so much excellent writing lately--everything from the Lemony Snicket books to Jodi Piccoult novels to my current book-du-jour, "When Zachary Beaver Came To Town," which is the story of 635 Zachary Beaver, the fattest boy in the world, who travels around the USA as a sideshow oddity.

Meanderings 7

***Some observations while on vacation in New Jersey with the Zoo***

1. Above-Ground-Pool "whirlpools" are nature's great equalizer--everyone wins! Kids get to have all sorts of fun making a whirlpool and then doing things like going for a free ride on a float, or trying to swim against the current, only to fail and then get water up a nose. Mom's get to subliminally get their kids to clean the pool, since all dirt is collected in the middle. Mom's can trick kids by saying "Jared . . .its time to get out . . .you're getting cold," and then, redeem themselves as the "good guy" by saying, "okay . . .you can stay in another ten minutes . . .why don't you make a whirlpool and THEN get out?" It was the only time, as a kid, I didn't mind being "taken" by "the man."

2. We love drinking alcohol so much, yet we do everything in our power to completely mask the taste of the alcohol we love so much--but we love to get the "effect" of the alcohol. Kids do this on a lesser degree for wanting to put cheese on their broccoli, spinach, Brussels sprouts, and peas (foods we have to eat in order to get the "effect" of the product), yet we chastise them for it. Parents, if you're going to do that to your kids, don't be a hypocrite--suck it up and drink your vodka straight---like June does for breakfast!!!

3. Don't think of the color red. Don't!!

4. The dishwasher is the Navy SEAL of all the household appliances--everything they do, they do in both relative silence, and complete secrecy. You can look inside the refrigerator, oven, clothes dryer--heck, you can even open the washing machine while it is running, and it keeps doing its thing, as if to say "hey . . .thanks for stopping by . . .let me show you how things work in here!" But not the dishwasher. All is covert and top-secret. You can't see what is going on in there . . . .have you ever seen a dishwasher with tempered glass doors? Why not? Plus, you can't open it while its running; it has some type of security-lock that prohibits you. What if there was a dish emergency? Or you got your cat stuck in there? What REALLY goes in in the covert operations of a dishwasher? I think it could be a conspiracy!

5. As a person interested in linguistics, I find it so interesting to examine the utterances we make to substitute for otherwise perfectly good words. There are words we say to mean YES or NO--"mm-hmm" and "mmm-mmm" respectively. What's the deal with that? Also, there is the utterance we make to signify "I don't know." This is difficult to capture through writing, since it is a sound, but do you know what I mean? Its like a complete "m" sound hummed to the tune of "I don't know" in an apathetic sort of tone. Are you doing it? Why is this the only phrase where we do this? I think it would be funny to do that for "I have to go to the bathroom right now, but I think I will wait and go later on when we are less busy writing blogs." Now that would be a funny M sound. As if the phrase "I don't know" were SO difficult to say on its own, we have FURTHER developed another way to do this--the shoulder shrug. When you don't know something, just shrug your shoulders. Everyone will know what you mean, and you dont have to use precious neck and lateral dorsi muscles. God forbid! There are now three different ways to let someone know you have no clue what the hell they are talking about. I want to know how things like this start?

6. It won't be long before corporations begin buying the rights to the names of hurricanes. It started with sports stadiums--Petco Park, Safeco Field, Dunkin Donuts Center--and it will surely soon extend to storms. Think about all the press they would get? How many times in the past two years have we heard the name "Katrina?" Well, imagine if that was, lets say, "Verizon" or something instead. Think about how often the word "Verizon" would get mentioned in the press. Jesse Jackson alone would have said the word "Verizon" over twelve million times by now. "Hurricane Verizon battered the city of New Orleans." Imagine, if you would, Hurricane Wal-Mart, Hurricane Nike, and Hurricane New York Yankees. "And in the weather today, tropical storm Met Life has been upgraded to hurricane status . . ."

7. Let me know your thoughts . . .leave a comment . . . .

Reading Terminal

What do you get when you cross an "East Side Jew" sandwich maker, Asian fishmongers, South Philly Cheesesteak Nazis, German Poultry cutter-uppers, a cute Amish girl selling you Scrapple, and a four year old dead-set on somehow obtaining Sour Patch Kids? The Reading Terminal Market, of course! Once a train terminal, the building space has been turned into a one-of-a-kind, very impressive melting pot of a marketplace. We spent our last day in Edgewater Park taking the light rail from Burlington Center to connect with the high speed line in Camden to bring us into Center City, Philadelphia.

This was my third visit to Philadelphia, and I really enjoy the city. My favorite part, of course, is the statue of an ominous William Penn, standing high above the buildings, extending a "welcoming hand" to his city. But, if you look at the statue from the back, his "welcoming hand" looks like something else, and it appears he is peeing all over the Philly skyline. My second favorite part, though, is the food.

Philly is famous for its cheesesteaks, soft pretzels, and processed meats (and I mean "processed" in the most endearing way). George and I were quick to pick up some "Scrapple" from the Amish family's stand. Scrapple is delicious both for its unique flavor and its brutal honesty; the good Philadelphia and Lancaster County people pull no punches about what lays inside this meaty masterpiece (think "crunchy frog" for all you Monty Python fans). They don't try to cover it up; they are very forthright, through the name, that what SCRAPple consists of is whatever "doesnt make it" into the sausages. But I think it is quality stuff!

We had a great time together, checking out coffee roasters, amazing seafood stands, bakeries, and delis. Is that how you spell delis? Amanda and I took our lunch from "Herschel's East Side Deli," which was a Jewish delicatessen that provided me with, undoubtedly, the best corned beef Reuben sandwich I have ever had. The corned beef was real thick slices from freshly cooked brisket--it wasnt "cold cut" style. Good Herschel was kind enough to give us a piece of his pastrami while we waited as well. Equally impressive.

Uncle Bob was our "fearless leader" as he helped us navigate through the (what I thought was confusing) public transit system consisting of the light rail and high speed line. But hey, I'm a Boston boy . . .

Everyone took something home, whether it was green tea chai from the "spice terminal," fresh coffee, scrapple, Amish fruit butter, mint sauce . . . .and sour patch kids. Unfortunately for Aunt June, they sold no shoes or pocketbooks at the Reading Terminal, and we consoled her during the trip home to Edgwater Park.

A long day, but a great time to all be together for one last time before we left early this morning to come home. As you can see from the pictures, Emma was conked out, mostly from the energy she spent trying to cajole her mom to sit next to her and pop-pop on the train. So tired was she, in fact, that I had to carry her into Carollo's--the sublime Italian restaurant where we ate our final meal together. Sally got "Chicken Francese" and I got "Chicken Saltinboca," and I have never seen portions that big--not even at Vinny T's I am shocked to say!

A very memorable, healing, and love-filled visit for all of us. It is so wonderful to be with family, as corny as that sounds. But it really is. We're already looking forward to more family visits--the zoo in the fall, and the Kranthony's next weekend . . .

Missing Out

Hey all. Sorry there are no pictures today. Sally Piles has the camera, and I wanted to get off a quick blog. Things have been so busy here in New Jersey, and we are packing up to head home tomorrow. Today we spent the day in downtown Philly at the Reading Terminal Market. Last night we had a phenomenal feast at Michelle and Stevie C's house--Steve caught lots of flounder and bluefish, and he cooked those up in a delicious garlic marinade. Also, down here they don't do steamers, but they DO do littleneck clams. Delicious, but I think I love my steamers better. We are getting ready to go out to dinner in a few. My mom was right . . .all my blogs revolve around food. But that seems like all we have done. We have tons of pictures from today--and the whole week in fact--that we will upload soon. That leads me to the reason of the blog subject for today . . . .missing out

Just thinking about the "digital" culture in which we live, and how, rarely, do you see anyone use 35 mm any longer. And forget about Polaroid. And remember those "funsaver" disposables? They dont seem that long ago. No one has to "wait" for pictures anymore. They are instantaneous. With mild despondency do I realize how our kids will never understand the sheer joy of going to Osco, CVS, or Hannaford, and picking up 4 or 5 rolls of film at a time, and just sitting in the car in the parking lot for 20 minutes, looking through all of the pictures, as if they were presents on Christmas morning, and marvelling at how "we forgot we took that picture," or "we totally forgot about that day" when we finally DO see the memories we tried to capture back on that special day--and how, now, they truly have become "memories." Just something to think about . . .

Blue Claws!

We started today getting an early start so we could get to L&M Bakery before they sold out of everything. L&M is a pretty famous New Jersey bakery, of which Lynne talks about often. Their signature product, according to Lynne, is the "butter cake," which is pictured on the center/bottom of the bakery photo. Basically, it is a cake consisting of butter and sugar, along with a couple of eggs to hold it together. That is it. It is like eating buttercream frosting right out of the pan. Absolutely delicious and heart healthy. Wonderful cinnamon buns and homemade donuts too!

Stevie C., who had stellar luck out fishing today, procured some nice blue-claw crabs so we could do the "traditional crab boil" Lynne keeps talking about. At 30 bucks for 1/2 a bushel, crabs are a far better value than lobster, and, for my money, ten times more delicious. I think I might be off lobster forever now! They are more fun to "pick" than lobster, and pound for pound have more meat than lobster (in my opinion anyway). You fill a pot with beer and water, bring it to a boil, drop in the crabs, and sprinkle a bunch of Old Bay Seasoning in. The seasoning, which sticks to the shells, gets on your fingers, and then, when you pick the crab with your fingers, the seasoning spices up the meat. The way to do it, according to Stevie C, is to clean them first, spread out a whole bunch of newspaper on the table, and just go to town like a seagull.

Other highlights of the day included playing wiffleball with Emma, Donna, Amanda, and Michelle. Also, we played a new game called Zingo with Emma (oh wait . . .I mean we played it for the 124th time). We sat around the fire pit, and, much to my chagrin, played "Pit," which is a stockbroker game. There are really no rules to the game--everyone just basically yells at the same time for about 15 minutes until its time to go inside. Just kidding. But not my favorite game. Also, on the way back from the bakery this morning, George took a detour to go into Delran and Tenby Chase, which is where Amanda lived for about the first 11 years or so of her life. We went by her house, by G-mom and G-pop's house, and by the Tenby Chase swim club, where Sally used to swim. A nice trip down memory lane for George and Amanda. Overall a fantastic day!

Oh. And Abby just layed around today. She rocks. We swam in the pool a bit. And she played wiffleball with us. And she drooled. On my cloths. A lot.

Pool Party

Here are some more pictures from today. It was a beautiful day today--dry, warm, sunny--perfect for swimming. Amanda, Emma, Michelle, and I spent just about the whole day outside in the pool (and Abby joined us too!) June, Bob, George, and Lynne went down the street to a neighbor's picnic where they had lobster tails, steamers, filet Mignon, and more. Michelle, Amanda, and I went to Gaetano's for supper (sorry Grandpop). Gaetano's is a famous Jersey hoagie shop--they have fantastic Philadelphia cheesesteaks (we are only 25 minutes from Philly where we are). We ate them out on the deck, just in time for the drunk grownups to come home and start making more Mojitos! What fun! I think tomorrow we are getting crabs and bringing them home to boil them out in the yard--I'm looking forward to it, since I've never had a traditional "Chesapeake Crab Boil." We are having a great time, reading books, and just enjoying family. Thomas is enjoying Nannie Camp very much, and he even had a surprise visit from his cousin Chelsea today!