Camping fun

I went camping this weekend at Devil's Hopyard in CT with my cousins Catherine and Tyler. They had gone up Friday night and I joined them Saturday morning for the weekend. It was somewhat last minute as they had gone the weekend before and had invited me, but I was in NYC but mentioned if it was the next weekend, I was free. So they ended up going twice and I got to partake in some camping. Everything came together last minute and smoothly. I borrowed a tent from a coworker who happened to have one at the office. And I still got to go home friday night and crash before heading off to spend the weekend with the monster you see here.



It was tons of fun - really hot, but again, felt like summer. We went swimming at a great little swimming hole, played cards (I taught them the Jungle Board game I just learned the previous week). We talked and hung out and ate and built a camp fire. It was rumbling all Saturday during the day but no rain until after dinner and then, it was only a heavy downpour for ten minutes - the bark was definately worse than the bite. We went hiking and letter boxing. It was tons of fun and you can read more about it here. I'm even thinking of hiding one by me although it seems like the urban boxes disappear. I can't wait to hunt for some of them hidden just down the street from me - under my very own nose.



Sunday we went biking and explored the Gillette Castle. I should be getting more pictures as Catherine's camera seems to perform better than mine plus it had more air time. All and all a great weekend. Relaxing, although tons of activity. I got home at a reasonable time on Sunday but ended up crashing and getting some sleep (I've become soft in my old age). I picked up a tank top I've been knitting that has gotten too big to carry with me. Made some good progress but am stuck on how to finish the top as I have a different numbre of stitches than the pattern as it suggested leaving out the darts for the flat-chested women, but didn't adjust the pattern in any way. Anyways, too tired to think and figure it out, so back on hold.



In other knitting news, I've been working on yet another Pea Pod baby sweater as my travel project. I've already knit it twice before, but different sizes each time. I just realized this morning that I missed a "and at the same time", so need to pull out the weekends knitting and readjust. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like that will happen any time soon, as I was just handed a copy of the latest Harry Potter book. I was going to be good and wait to read it when visiting VT in a few weeks. Now I must be strong and try not to let it take over my life these next several days. Maybe I can try to knit and read like my friend Cece, but unlikely - too tired for that. And finally, for all of you who have read the book, check out this review. Tons of spoilers so beware. Of course I haven't read it yet, but am told it's hilarious.

Summertime

I feel like it's summer. I know it's the end of July and almost August so we've been in the belly of summer for awhile, but with the strange weather and everything, it didn't really feel like summer to me... until now. This week has been warm, but on top of that I feel like the summer activities have taken off. I've been catching up on sleep and on Wednesday after work had a full night. I went to Ivy with some coworkers and had a nice bottle of wine and I splurged and got some mussels in a wonderful butter and garlic sauce - we had to ask for bread twice, it was so good, sopping it up. Although one mussel was a bit undercooked - didn't like the slimey feel of that. Then off to Shakespeare in the Park, just two blocks up where we met up with some friends. The place was packed, blankets next to blankets, not a patch of grass available. Our neighbors were playing cards and within minutes I was dealt in - great game called Jungle Board. The production was suprisingly good. It was Midsummer's Night Dream, which I have to say I've seen a dozen times and have even been in once (I was Demetrious). Having seen quite a few Shakespeare in the park gigs, I was suprised how well they performed and the set and costumes. However, it was still outside, you couldn't really see the stage being a football field away, and well, I ducked out early and met up with a friend who was celebrating her Birthday. All in all, by the time I got home, it was a classic summertime evening in my opinion. Warm, relaxing, and an evening that seemed to be timeless. Too bad it was a school night.



In knitting news, yesterday as I headed home from work a bit late (having come into work a bit late), I struck up a conversation with a fellow knitter. Pulling out my knitting definately starts conversations with strangers. I've been carring it around a lot more and making a ton of progress on yet another PeaPod baby sweater. It's starting to get bulky, so am already looking for another project to start. That's the problem, knitting, elbow to elbow with my fellow commuters, I need to keep the projects small. It works for awhile until the project grows, and then it gets put aside into the pile that just grows and grows. I need to buckle down and knit more at home. But I have to say I get about 80% of my knitting down in transit. I get a good episode of Fresh Air on the mp3 player and an easy pattern to follow and I'm good to go.



Well, Rosanne, my fellow knitter, pointed out a wonderful hole in the wall knitting store in Porter Square. She swears there are wonderful hand-dyed yarn in there. I almost didn't want to know where it was. And then, as I get on my bus, a block away, where the Indian clothing store used to be, there is none other, you guessed it, a new yarn store. I hadn't really noticed. So, I'm going to be good and not explore the two stores until the fall. We'll see how strong I can be. I'm usually good at avoiding yarn stores because I have to make a trip to visit one. These are on my daily route - not a good sign.



And finally, wrapping back to the summertime theme, I'm making my list of things to bring camping this weekend in CT with my cousins. It should be fun, although I'm a bit worried about the weather, and how to fit my bike in the car. I'm packing tons of sunscreen - three bottles. But have a feeling that the trend will continue, where the weekend wipes me out and I recoup during the week (instead of the opposite). But it's summertime - you've got to enjoy it!

Red Bean Buns Found!

After 3 years searching, I've finally found one of my favorite pastries. The wonderous, scrumptious, luscious, delectable, red bean buns. Except I didn't really know what they were called or where they came from. I was introduced to them back in my days in the midwest when I tutored for a Korean family who always provided delicious snacks during my sessions. Fresh fruit, and traditional Korean snacks. It was a good gig. But I never found out what they were called, if they were Korean or Chinese or what. And so I just always kept an eye out, a hopeful eye.







Then on Monday, I was down in Chinatown with a friend grabbing a Vietanemese sandwich and we stopped by a pastry shop on our way back. Everytime I'm in Chinatown, I scan the case looking, hoping to find the wonderful pastry. My Korean friends had helped identify that the wonderful filling was red bean paste. And I find red bean paste pastries, but they're never the same - more croissant-like, flakey dough, than roll like. Well, this time, I look, and nothing, just the red bean flakey pastry - which I figured is better than nothing. We are waiting to order, and you have to keep in mind we are no longer in Boston, we are in Chinatown - a whole other wonderful world. Getting to the pastry shop we had cut through the market full of live seafood, some I know, some I've never even heard of. People don't speak english, most people don't even understand english, including everyone in the pastry shop. It's almost our turn when two elderly men barge into the shop and cut in line to get coffee and pastries. Except their pastries are from this unassuming warming case on the back wall. I hadn't noticed. There are the buns. Filled with sweet and savory. Filled with pork and custard and coconut and, yes, even red bean. I'm so excited. I think this could possibly be the moment when I get reunited with the delectible delight I've beeen searching for. There is a sign on the door listing the different types, in english and in chinese characters. I order. I ask for a custard and a red bean bun. She pulls out one and than the second one. She pulls out and holds it in a questionable manner - with her body language she is asking, "Is this the one you want?" Of course, yes, yes, the red bean, it's so close, I can't wait. My mouth is watering, I can almost taste the sweet bites of heaven I'm about to devour.







And I'm patient. We walk back to the office. We eat our lunch - no skipping to dessert. I've waited this long, I can wait 10 more minutes. And than finally. It's time. I take a bite, and it's good. It's wonderful. It's the custard one, but it's soo good. I know the red bean is going to be even better. And I pick it up, this second one, the red bean, and I take a bite. And it's coconut. It's good, but it's not red bean. I realize, the lady didn't know what I was asking for. We had ourselves a little language barrier problem. And I was stumped to figure out how to remedy it. I can't just point to what I want - they all look the same on the outside. They are all together on the racks - there is no way for me to point. No way to fall back on my only second language I know - universal hand gestures. I could tell her I wanted two or three of them, no problem. But I couldn't tell her which one. I'm so close.

So, a little later, I'm working with our intern Jean. When it dawns on me. She's asian. I hadn't really noticed as she's american to me, and I definately hadn't put two and two together. So she instructs me on how to say Red Bean. Thats all I need to know. We practice and practice. It's phoenetically "hung doh". Except there are 10 ways to say hung with the various inflections. And to me, they all sound about the same. You drop on the end of word down and inflect back up on the doh part. I keep practicing on my way home that night. I practice when I wake up. I practice on my commute into work the next day.

And I'm still not saying it right. A group of us head to Chinatown the next day. Ok, I make them go. I'm determined. And thankfully Jean decides to come. We go to the same place, although my friend thinks there are better places to go. No, I know they have them here, I'm going back. And we wait in line. And it's our turn. And Jean orders for me. And thank goodness she is there. There would have been no way for me to have done it on my own. I don't know what she said but she said a lot more than what I would have thought would be needed to order. In the end, I get four. Three for me and one as a treat for Jean for making it happen. And I'm not patient. I bite into one as we're heading out the door. And... It's heaven. I've finally found them. I've found my Red Bean Bun.

So the good news. They are only $0.85 each. So if I get one a day, that's only about $200 a year. Much better deal than my fellow coffee drinkers. And the bad news. I do the math. It's going to be less than that, as Jean is only with us until the end of August. She's going to MIT so will hopefully continue working a few days a week in the fall. But I'll need a translator. Right now, I'm hopeful that if we go a lot now, the lady (it was the same person both times), will just know what I want as I become a regular. I've also thought about getting someone to write out what I want in chinese characters, so that I can just hand the note over (I did something similar when I would get the sunday pastries for my german family years and years ago, and I didn't know german yet). I don't know. But for now, I'm happy that I will be able to enjoy my Red Bean Buns for the summer.

NYC Revisisted

I can't believe how time has flown - classic summer. Well, since my last post, work has been busy and draining. I have purposely not been working extra hours but since it's been so demanding it feels like I've been putting in 60+ hour weeks. Last weekend I had popped over to Vermont to visit dad and Barbro and Sunday evening had a nice relaxing evening having dinner, playing hearts and knitting at Cece's with her husband and Amanda.

This past weekend, I visited NYC. I had gone a month ago in the hopes of seeing my friend, John's musical, but no luck getting tickets. Even though I didn't get to see the show I still had a great weekend reconnecting with old friends I hadn't seen. I realized that I love visiting places, but much more enjoy catching up with friends. Anyways, this time I was going to be prepared and buy tickets in advance. Except, the show is pretty much sold out - only the VIP $300+ tickets left. I realized I wanted to see the show but also wanted to catch up with John as well. So, in preparation, I emailed John as well as Matthew, another friend of mine I had lost touch with, back from my days in California. John was busy, so no luck there, but Matthew was in town and I was staying with my highschool friend Ankan. On the aggenda was trying to get standing room tickets to the musical, catching up with Matthew, hanging out with Ankan, seeing the Richard Serra exhibit at the Moma and wandering around some more neighborhoods of Manhattan.

So my journey began when I bought tickets for the greyhound. I had decided not to drive since I love driving but hate sitting in traffic - it kills my knee - clutch-shift. I was going to take the train, but the bus was cheaper and took less time. Plus the Fung Wah I had heard so much about, I thought it would be a fun summer adventure. For $30 roundtrip, it goes from chinatown to chinatown. Except in the end I chickened out and went with greyhound as I thought they would be more reliable, less accidents, and more likely that I'd get on the bus I wanted.

Well, I was wrong. I show up at the bus terminal in Boston and it was packed! I realized I had never taken the bus in my life before. I find my gate, and trace the line back to the end. Except it keeps going and going and going. It was snaking out of the gate area into the food court area. It turned out there had been a fatal accident on the Pike that afternoon and it had been shut down. No traffic. No buses coming or going. Normally I think I would have been a bit pissed and maybe would have called the whole thing off and gone home. But I've gotten so worn out from work, I just ended up standing in line to see how it would play out. I made friends with the group in front of me, two guys (I think from MIT) who had taken the buses before, a guy from India trying to get to Jersey (I swear he looked just like our driver from Kerala) and a girl who was from New Jersey. We hung out and talked and shared in our misery. In the end, I was only delayed two hours, getting on the fourth bus to come - which isn't that much different than what you get with planes sometimes. So I didn't get in until late Friday, after midnight. It took me a while to get a cab, and than of course, I didn't realize but the big steam pipe fiasco that happened last week, is over near where I was staying, so that was a bit convaluted.

Saturday, frankly I was undecided how to spend the day. I was on the fence about really standing in line for two hours to get ticktes. But, than that morning, while getting ready, on the TV was an ad for Jersey Boys, and there was John performing. I knew than that I had to go. So I headed over towards the Moma, enjoying the New Yorkness of NY. So many people and tall buildings, the energy on the streets - there really is no other city like it. I was still a bit tired, so took my time and ended up window shopping a bit, which than turned into full out shopping when I realized that if I was going to see the musical, I couldn't go in jeans but would need to dress up a bit - any excuse to shop in NY. Fast forward and I realized that if I wanted to get tickets, I would have to skip the Moma and head over to make sure I didn't miss my opportunity. I knew before you had to get there about 2 hours prior to when the tickets go on sale. But they don't sell student tickets anymore, so wasn't sure, if that meant the start time was earlier. To be on the safe side, I headed over at 3:30. I checked one last time that I couldn't buy a ticket - they were sold out. But that was fine. I had my book. I had my knitting. I had some work, my phone to catch up on calls, some Fresh Air episodes on the MP3 player, some new music and even some food. I was definately equiped to spend 2.5 hours in line. And I was first! In the end all I did was knit. I ended up having a lovely afternoon with Carol, who joined me in line soon after and was this wonderful character. She used to live in Manhattan and was a day trader - some crazy stories. She was now quasi retired, still dealing with the death of her husband from 3 years ago and worked for the cruise ships. It was a nice day out, and tons of people watching while we talked and I knit. Again, waiting in line for several hours, you definately get to know people. By the end, I knew the front half of the line pretty well.

The people watching in NY is fabulous. It was perfect being able to sit and relax and talk and knit and watch people go by. The tourists were funny, always with a dazed look on their face, walking around a little lost. It was funny when people would ask for directions. One lady asked came up to me and asked me how to get to 42nd street. I don't think she understood the idea of consecutive numbers and how they applied to the grid of Manhattan. Then, there was this one guy with the avaitor shades, jeans and jacket walking along. I wasn't really paying attention, until he walked right up to me - it was John! I totally didn't recognize him at first as I didn't expect to see him on the street. He was impressed I was first in line and he had brought a bag of water for the people standing in line - isn't that great?! He said he'd put my name on the list so that I could come in through the stage door after the show (i've never been on a list before, so that was fun). It was so good to see him and when he headed into the theater I got bombarded with questions from people in line. It puts a smile on my face just thinking back on it. I mean he is the star of the show. Crazy.

Well, a moment later he comes out and grabs me out of line. I got the tour of the theater, back stage, we even went up on the stage and looked out at the seats that would be filled in a few hours. It was great being able to chat and hang out a bit. He's the same old John I grew up with which is great. Such a great guy and very grounded which is good for this industry. He had to get ready, but had hooked me up with an emergency release ticket. Except, I had to pick it up right before the show, ten minutes before 8. I was a little worried that meant I might not get a ticket in the end. I had been first in line, so didn't want to miss the show. But should have had the faith. I ended up sitting in the best seat ever - fifth row center. I was giddy throughout the whole show. There was John, up on the stage. I would sometimes forget it was him and than it would dawn on me that I knew this guy. It gave me goosebumps and I have to admit that I got teary eyed at times (granted, there are parts of the musical that make you teary anyways). I couldn't stop grinning through most of the show. He was amazing. The story follows the life of his character, Frankie Valli, who begins as a naive teenager just wanting to sing to a mature, wisened Frankie decades later. Seeing John evolve on stage was great - and he had an accent the whole time which was so fun to watch. He's the second one from the left in the picture here.

Well, the best part, yes, it gets even better. I'm grinning ear to ear right now remembering. At the end, you have the wonderful climax as they finish up the show with the big number and the crowd breaks out in applause. All the different actors come out to get their recognizition. And finally it's the four guys, the four seasons. Standing ovation of course. And finally John steps forward and the crowd goes crazy. Did I mention he was amazing, he did win a Tony for a reason. He takes his bow and as he's backing off stage he does one of those double points, right at me. A bunch of people in the audience turn around to see who he was pointing to. It was amazing and I was so happy to be able to have shared that performance with him. It completely made my day. My weekend.

So it was a good weekend. I had brunch with Matthew on Sunday and we talked for ages. He's another great guy I'm glad I reconnected with again. He's working in urban planning now and we were sharing stories about work and life. He was quite impressed with all that I do for my job - it is a good position I am in, a good place to effect change. I just need to get a better game plan. We had brunch at this place in the West Village off of Greenwich Ave. It had fabulous food. The heirloom tomato salad we shared was so full of flavor. I love good food. I had forgotten that I knew Matthew originally because we worked on a project together in California. (He was good friends with David that I dated, so ended up knowing him more socially than professionally). This was back in my early engineering days. He was telling me how impressed he was than on how I held myself. I had mentioned later that I had had no idea what I was doing, but he said the impression he got from me was qutie the opposite. It was great positive feedback - don't we always love that. I was such a youngin back than though.

So all in all the weekend was great. The ride home I slept for almost 3 hours - I really didn't sleep well - coming down with something, and visitor beds are never the same as your own. I had a great time catching up with John and Matthew, hung out with Ankan, got to see the show. Never did get to see the Moma but that's fine. The guy I had met last time was a bust, so that was disappointing. But I love that I was able to reconnect with old friends. I really can't believe how many this year I've met up with. I really am taking stock of and appreciating what I've got now. And now, I really need to buckle down and crank on work. I vow this week will be overly productive. Of course, only time will tell.

Patience

I'm a patient person. I'm known for my patience. I was raised to favor the long term enjoyment rather than the immediate gratification something might bring. I make PB&J sandwiches everyday for work while coworkers buy lunch and coffee and snacks so that I can put my money aggresively away into retirement accounts. I enjoyed tuturoing math, explaining things over and over again, in different ways, until the students finally get it. Until last year, I didn't realize I had a quota on my patience. I just thought it was a virtue of mine - an endless well of patience. Yes, I have no children yet, that would have clued me in that there is a finite amount of patience that I have. Instead, work has worn it down. In a way I think it's good, I've learned to deal with certain things that patience would have taken care of. But I'm not here to discuss work. Instead, I just wanted to explain, that I'm back in the range of the average folk, with an average level of patience (some more days than others). And I wasn't patient last week.

I've been picking up my produce boxes each week - and although full of surprises and a delight to open, I was starting to wane on what to cook up each week. So last week, I went to the grocery store and bought some additional produce (think I mentioned it in previous post). I bought some tomatoes and potatoes and onions and almost bought some fresh herbs but opted to "borrow" some from my neighbor (which I never did get around to). Now, I love that I eat produce grown down the road from me. That I pick it up by bicycling with a back pack to lug it all home. And I eat food that is in season and available. Or at least I tried for a month. I almost made it. I should have had that thing called faith they keep talking about.

What the $%^& is she talking about? Patience, food, what? Yes, I'm a little loopy today and incoherrent, but I have a point. (Heat is not my friend). Yesterday I thought I might be able to drive to pick up the food since the weaherman said it would be in the 90s. Turns out that the weird weather we are having means its 90s in some parts and 60s in neighboring areas. Very strange. So even though it was humid, there was this pleasent and unusual cool sea breeze. I was a little chilly biking up to the food pick up. And guess what I got this week. I've been getting lettuce, squach, zuccini, and than a surprise or two for the last few weeks.

This week I got lettuce, zuccini, some more kohlrabi - very familiar. But the rest of the box? It was filled with huge bunches of parsley and basil and cillantro and what I thought were chives but realized at home that they were scallions. And there were some potatoes (the small red kind that I just bought) and some really fresh onions (sweet white like I just bought) Are you starting to see a pattern? I didn't get any tomatoes thankfully but got some delicious fresh carrots that have almost disappeared (I had some garlic hummus - great snack).

So the point is, I should have just been patient and waited. The food was coming. I just never know what to expect. But I've learned my lesson. Work with what you've got (or in my case are given). The herbs are wonderful - in beautiful full bunches, roots still intact so are sitting in glasses of water in a wonderful meledy on top of the fridge (else the boys would attack). They are so fragrent. And the onions - I've never bought onions like that. There is no paper layer like skins, but moist thick fresh meat exposed, and the tops are cut off much higher, so they have necks. I can't wait to taste them.

In knitting news, I got tons of compliment on the tank I just finished and wore for the first time this week. I really should press it, as the edge around the armpits kept curling under. It's in the "to-do" pile. I still have to pick up the remaining balls cece bought for me to finish the orange cardigan I was working on until I ran out of yarn. So instead of finishing up old projects, I've cast on a summer cotton pattern by kate gilber called Keyhole Top from the spring 2007 issue of Interweave Knits. I won't run out of yarn for this one since I'm using the slate cotton yarn from the never ending cone (I knit and knit one sweater after another, hundreds even, and the cone is still the same size). I like the back which is exposed. I'm almost done the waisteband and am thinking of adjusting the bottom so that it doesn't flare as much and will not do the decreases in the bust as the pattern recommends for those of us without much of a bust line. I keep trying to start another sweater wrap, but can't get the right gauge. I keep trying different yarns and needle sizes, and nothing. I'll post once it is officially started - I am determined to knit it and am going to try doubling up the yarn to see if that works tonight. It should be a fast project. Oh, and I've decided to redo the Simply Marilyn sweater that was a bit too short for me. It's been long enough. Time has healed. I haven't worn it more than once or twice. I can start ripping. Looking through old posts, it was back in October I finished it - 9 months ago. So tonight, I take notes, make adjustments, and turn the sweater back into balls of yarn. Wish me well.

Qatar

First I should preface that geography has never been a strong suit of mine. I left that topic to my brother who plastered his bedroom (ceiling too) with all our National Geographic maps growing up. I hadn't even heard of Eritrea until he visited there a few years ago. However, in my defense, I think it wasn't a country when I studied geography in middle school (ok, it's a weak argument, but it's all I got). But I think that might be the point - I don't really remember the name of countries unless it relates to me - funny that. Well, all of a sudden, in the last three days Qatar has come onto my radar. I vaguely recognize the name - from half listening to NPR in the mornings. But I'll get back to this in a moment.

I had a great lunch with my old college friend/roomie Emily and her family. The nice thing was I just saw her about a month or so ago at our reunion get together. They were up on vacation visiting family and I was able to sneak out of work and hang out with them a bit. Natalie was very glamorous and wore her sunglasses in the restaurant for awhile. I think it's practice for when she becomes a big rock star - doesn't she have the wonderful attitude to play the part in this picture? The funny thing was when we were meeting up in the park, it was Eric, her husband who recognized me first - and we haven't met before. It's that lost look I must have had. It was really nice just hanging out with them over food. Makes me wish that everyone I meet in life would just move and live wherever I'm living - one can dream.

This weekend I got a good chunk of my spring cleaning done - cleaned inside the stove and oven and microwave and moved furniture and everything. Still a ways to go, and frankly, the place still looks a mess - the whole vacuuming thing is what pulls me down. Started a new knitting project (or two or three - opps, more on that later). And than last night I had a great time taking two boys to go see the new Transformers movie. Definately the way to see it - although we were all so cold in the theater - arms and legs folded up inside our shirts. On the way home, the younger boy declared this the best night ever in his life. Don't you just love kids? Especially when you get to borrow them and be the one who gets to pamper them. I was assured this movie wouldn't be too scary for them, but the younger one kept asking several times through the movie if Bumble Bee would be ok. I kept saying he would be fine in the end and crossing my fingers I wasn't lying. He's the main character's yellow car/transformer and we get attached to him. How could they kill him off, right? That's not a very Hollywood ending. Well, he doesn't fair so well in the film, and at one point, I wasn't even sure if he would make it. I was tempted to text a friend who had just seen it to see if Bumble Bee would actually be ok. But in the end, it all worked out - corny dialogue and everything.

So what about Qatar you ask? Isn't that the title of this post after all? Well, here it is, my fairly low key weekend, and three times I tell you, did Qatar pop up. First, I learned a friend of mine is moving there which got me excited that I could visit perhaps. Second, where does the Transformers movie open? None other than an outpost in Qatar. Which made me rethink the whole visiting idea. It looks a little hot and what's with the crazy robot trying to kill people? And finally, this morning, reading my blogs, someone in the knitting world had a houseguest who is an expat in Qatar. Hmm, expats, that sounds interesting, maybe not such a bad place to visit after all.

So you have to admit, that's more than the usual blips on the radar. If nothing else, I at least know where Qatar is and how much plane tickets are to Doha. That's right - I even know the capital.

Summer Reading

I wasn't intending on posting a blog today, but just finished another book this morning on the ride in. Last week I had finally broken down and stopped by my local used bookstore. It's been over a year and a half since I moved to this town, and I walk to the grocery store, and I walk to the hardware store, and I walk to the library and the toy store and the bank and you get the idea. I try to shop locally, I try to not use the car, but yet I wouldn't go near the bookstore. And the reason being - last week case in point.

The bus that brings me to town, but doesn't go by my house was there when I got off the subway, so I decided instead of waiting for the more direct bus, I would hop on this one and walk the extra 3 blocks (really, it's a lazy life, when 3 blocks seems out of your way). And as I was getting off, I realized that I wanted to get the book, Life of Pi that a friend was just talking about earlier that week. It dawned on me that perhaps this was the day to visit the bookstore. I wanted to read the book and didn't want to wait until later in the week to make it to one of the mega stores downtown (i.e. Borders). Plus I like to buy books used. Besides the lower cost, the idea that the story has been shared with someone else is inticing. So, to appease the need for immediate gratification, I headed over to the bookstore, just yards away from the bus stop.

Now, let me set the scene. It was a nice summer afternoon, the sun at it's wonderful angle that time of day coming in through the store windows. I wasn't in a rush. It wasn't too hot, I had a good selection of new songs on the mp3 player and the store wasn't crowded nor vacant. A nice buzz of a few people parusing the stacks, a few other mothers looking for school designated summer reading books for the kids. And there I was looking through the books. I asked straight off for the Life of Pi, and they had one copy - task accomplished. But, since I was here, I might as well look around, right?

Well an hour later, I came to the conclusion it was a descent bookstore, not too dangerous - they seemed to have a lot of paperbacks in the sci fi, romance and grisham genre. The trades were fun to look through, but were weighted in the category of chick lit. Some classics, and my favorite was the spinning rack of selected books of interest. It contained several David Sedaris books, which I passed up, I much prefer to hear him read his books rather than read them myself (same for Garrison Keillor). I did find a book I had started reading several years ago while in a Borders in Michigan, called, Nickel and Dimed, that is about a journalist/writer who takes a year to try to live on minimum wage. A fast read.

In the end I walked away with 6 books for under $40. Not bad. And in the last week I've gobbled up three. Life of Pi is a fairly quick read - good summer book. And the last book that I liked called, Safekeeping: some true stories from a life, I picked up in the memoir/biography section. It was filled with poigent moments. Literally, the book composed of chapters that were quite often just a paragraph or two, less than a page.

And that is that. Good books. Would recommend all three. I wouldn't necessarily say any was my favorite (Life of Pi was my friends favorite). But than again I don't know if I have favorites. And they pass the test, that they get put onto the bookshelf and will not be sold back to the used bookstore for partial store credit. I've started another book about the life of doctors - I think the residency section of their career. And well, I've started the three remaining books, but will post them when completed. It's a nice break from listening to mp3s and knitting, to reading while commuting. I do enjoy the commutes - not too long enough to be a hassel, and just long enough to get something accomplished.

Turnips and Plaques

Ok, sorry about that brain freeze. I can deal much better with pouring out nothingness on my 101th blog entry. What I wanted to post was two things. I got my latest farm box of produce Tuesday. Still got a bunch of lettuce, but nothing from the freaky farm. Some zuccini and summer squash. Some Swiss Chard. And some items I wasn't sure about. Two small green peppers. I wasn't sure if they were bell peppers or the hotter variety. It turns out at least one was a bell pepper, the verdict is still out for the other one. I got more of what I thought were white radishes. But this time they were so large, they couldn't be, I realized. I did some more research in my vegetable books, and I'm now putting my money on turnips. I roasted them with potatoes and onions and bacon and they were quite yummy, I think.

Partly because I also threw in the last of the unkown vegetable. I looked it up and identified it, it began with an H (I want to say Haikon, or something like that). Well, can't find the image because I can't spell it properly (and google's "did you mean" isn't kicking in). One was purple and one was green. It's not quite a root vegetable. I'll have to let you know next time I post. I'll bring in the name. Of course, on the same website I got the image for turnips, there it is. The vegetabel is called Kohlrabi. K, H, same difference, right? I'll give google some slack since I'll admit I was a little off. It's from the cabbage family. I think I liked the turnips better. Still have to figure out what to do with the greens. I think they are strong like Kale - too much on their own. I bought some parmesian, maybe that will help.

So yesterday, being the fourth, I took it easy and indulged in grocery shopping that included some more produce. I hate to buy produce when I already get produce, but wanted some potatoes (in case I didn't like the turnips on their own), some lemon, tomatoes (haven't gotten mine yet), blueberries, plums (this is a veggi produce box after all, and a girl needs her fruit too). And ended up cutting and chopping and cooking away yesterday. I made the ginger, apple, halibut dish that I stumbled upon. Who knew that a cream sauce with cider vinegar, ginger and sauted apples is just scrumptious on any old white fish (cod last night). And I'm not a big fan of ginger. I was also good and biked up to the pick up. It was such a beautiful day. And even though I got off to a later start due to the subway being backed up - the crowds were amazing at the stops - I thought someone would fall onto the track, there were so many bodies, I still got there with five boxes left! I wasn't the last. I was going to be good and bike again yesterday, but had a slow start and by afternoon the clouds were onimous. Instead, the minute my neighbors left, I ran down to the basement and put in some practice time on the piano. I had just gotten the sheet music to 9 Crimes by Damien Rice the day before and was itching to have a go at it. I still need to practice.

And the second thing I wanted to post, before I forget, is that I found out that I will be recorded in history and in bronze (did I mention this before, apologies if so). A building I'm working on for my town (this is through a committee I'm on, and not through work), is putting up a bronze plaque that includes the building committee members - and there, sixth name down, is little old me. Really, I haven't done much, so feel a little silly. But this is definately getting added to my tour for visitors. Plus, when you visit the site, there is a great view of the city. It's nice that there are only two days left of work - weird feeling with so many people on vacation. This weekend, I think I might take some kids to go see the Transformers movie. I really want to see it, especially on the big screen, and guess I could go on my own. But there are two boys I know whose mom doesn't want to go, so I might just kidnapp them for an afternoon. We'll have to see.

My 100th!

Um, well, who knew. A hundred posts. I should write something insightful or witty or smart. Too much pressure. Must think. Thinking. Mind went blank. Maybe a quote - too corny. Ok, it's just a number. Before you know it will be 1000. Imagine that. But maybe not, that's a far ways off. This might be it, on eventful numbers. And all I can think of is my math joke: "Why was 6 afraid of 7? Because 7 ate 9!" Get it. Ok, not witty, or smart, or even insightful. Must write something else. Still nothing. Ok, that's enough!

Duck count

Oh, and I almost forgot - the latest duck count - one was found while giving my coworker a tour of dad's house - is 85! As I said, they are definately closer to the end of finding them all. But still a ways to go.

Vermont

Quick update before the week takes off. Although I keep forgetting I get wednesday off. If I was more inspired I might come into work and play catch up, but I don't have it in me much anymore - you keep digging and digging - trying to get out, but it just seems to become a bigger hole you're in.

Anyways, last week, I met up with my old college friend Sam. He is such a character - a year ahead of me in the same engineering program. He's really a go getter - entrepeneur type and is always asking me difficult questions about my career - I really need to start focusing more on my career and less on my job. He had invited along another college friend, Lonnie, who speaking of characters, is one unto himself. I remember my senior year he had come back for some event along with alot of other graduates and Joanne and I were outside the Campus Center talking with a bunch of people. He was telling us that he got a job as an air traffic controller somewhere. Well, frankly, he's the last person I would want controlling the air traffic when I fly. Nice guy, but not academic - very much the goofer and doesn't really focus on work stuff. I could clearly see him up in the air traffic tower entertaining the other controllers while my plane crashed into another plane. I've always thought of him as I've flown over the years - that's a lot of flights. And I've even told the story once or twice. Than last year, talking with Sam, mentioned the story and Sam let's out a big laugh - Lonnie's never been an air traffic controller! He really had me convinced - why not?

So it was Sam, Lonnie, and Dave - a friend of Sam's from MIT graduate years and another structural engineer. I had a good time with the group - lots of joking around and except for Sam, we are all in the same field. Didn't get home until late (so speaking for a 'school' night).

Than this weekend, I hopped a ride up to Vermont. A friend was driving up to a town, two exits north of dads. It was the first time I ever visited without driving myself. Nice to relax and had a good time chatting with my coworker. I was only up for Saturday and Sunday - short visit. And earlier on Saturday, a parishner in Barbro's church had suddenly passed away. So it was good timing for my visit, in Barbro's words, as I was able to entertain Dad. Actually we went canoeing on Sadawga Lake (the picture is pulled from a random website - but you get the idea). Perfect weather - nice and cool, crisp. And the lake has this "island" in the middle that is composed of loose vegetation. Really fun to explore and we even found a way to cross through the middle - although I realized a good way to torture dad is to stand up in the canoe - he doesn't like the idea of tipping. Actually, funny story. As we are prepping the boat, ready to head off into the lake, we were choosing life jackets. Now, growing up we went canoeing, and dad always wore this yellow jacket that zips up. Not the best design - would help you stay afloat but wouldn't keep you afloat. There is another, smaller, better fitting one - more modern he must have bought in the last ten years. And than of course, the traditional orange type that goes around your neck. So here's the dialogue:

Dad: "Are you a good swimmer?"

Me: "Descent" I say - thanks to years of lessons forced upon us by the parents, to ensure that we could stay afloat when needed (appreciated later in life).

Dad: "Good you can take the bad life jacket." Being the yellow one that he has worn for countless trips.

Me: "Thanks dad - glad to see the whole looking out for your kid has worn off." I than put on the yellow jacket, and I'm swimming in it - really sized for an adult male. Dad sees this and does the right thing and I get better fitting jacket. Now in dad's defence, I'm not a kid anymore and it makes sense, looking at two grown adults, that the better swimmer, takes the lesser of the jackets. Still, I think I might invest in my own life-vest to bypass this situation next time.

And the other funny story with dad has to do with dinner. So Saturday, June 30th, ring a bell? Well, not to you, but it should have for me - it's dad and Barbro's anniversary. There I was, having shown up on their doorstep the day of their anniversary, having no clue, empty handed, not even a card. Such a good off spring I am. Well, the only thing I could do was treat them to the dinner we were going out to that night. Except I knew I would hear some push-back, so being the sneaky little devil I am, half way through dinner, I excused myself for the "bathroom" and double backed to the front desk and paid the dinner bill. It was fun at the end of the night when we were getting ready to leave, but dad said we had to wait for the bill. I said we were all set, I had taken care of it. And.... he didn't believe me. He really thought I was trying to get him to do a dine and dash. That I would trick him into walking out without paying (and this is one of their favorite restaurants). More dialogue:

Me: "No really dad, I paid the bill already."

Dad: "How?"

Me: "I charged it."

Dad: "But when? I didn't see you."

Me: "I didn't really go to the bathroom."

Dad: "You're tricky - I can't believe you did that. Did you really pay the bill?" I'm loving it.

Me: "Yes dad. I told you, I want to treat you guys - my treat."

Dad: "Really??? You just want us to walk out." At which point I pull out the credit card receipt and dad insists on reading the time stamp (because you know this might have been a receipt from when I was here earlier in the day - between playing cards and canoeing with him).

Me: "So we are all set - let's go."

Dad: "Wait, so you are really treating us?" Now accepting but very incredulous.

Me: "Yes"

Dad: "You're paying for the meal - that's too much." It really wasn't that bad considering three people just ate dinner and it was probably a fraction of the cost of a Tapas meal I just had the previous weekend in NYC.

Me: "No it isn't dad, my treat."

Dad: "So you're paying for the meal - all of it?"

Me: Patiently "Yes dad, I want to give you something for your anniversary and I give you food."

Dad: "Really, you're really treating us?"

At which point I got it. (And on a side note, this isn't the exact dialogue, and Barbro was speaking too, but it gets my point across). My relationship with dad and money has always been very unique - created in part by both of us. I treat friends and other family occasionally. That's just the way I was brought up. But growing up, dad was the one that usually pulled out the wallet (sometimes complaining about the cost of things) and paid the tab/bill. As I grew up and was fiscally responsible, I started paying for things, but not with dad - he was my cash cow. Why would I pay for it, if dad could pay for it? I didn't realize that I hadn't adjusted my habits to include him. So the fact he was so incredulous that I was actually paying for a meal he had, made me realize I don't remember another similar incident and makes me wonder if this might have been the first time I paid for dad (it couldn't be, could it?).

So, my "take away" (a term dad had never heard of, and tried to use later, but confused it with "take off" and barbro than tried to use the next day and called it "take out" - you got to love the old folk), is that I need to buy a life jacket for myself, and treat dad to meals a bit more often - like maybe once a year or something.