Our youngest is now in school, albeit only three mornings per week, and I do sometimes hear some variation of that commonly asked question, "What are you doing with "all that 'free' time now?"
A few appropriate answers might be that
I catch up on all the things I've been neglecting to do around the house for all these years.
I get together on occasion for coffee with some of my friends that I don't see often enough.
I eat bonbons. I had to throw that one in there. I only eat bonbons occasionally, and always when I'm multi-tasking anyway, so it doesn't really count as eating bonbons, does it?
I get in touch with myself. I'm not kidding—time for artistic endeavors, including writing, suffers tremendously under the strict regimen of daily administrative details that modern life seems to require.
I run errands. Sadly, it's true. There are some things better left for when the kids just aren't in the car and asking for every other toy/candy/treat/fill-in-the-blank that commercial enterprises choose to display at a child's eye level.
On occasion, I even read.
I blog. Or will do when I can find time in between all the other things on this list.
And speaking of which, there are a number of other items from the list calling out to me even as I type. It's good to be back and toying with words again, but I shall bid adieu with the intention of returning very soon.
Until next time . . .
Friday, September 24, 2010
Long Time, No Write
Wow. Well that was quite a hiatus. I think I'll quickly post this just to tell myself that I'm back. Anyone still out there? I hope to be blogging a bit about Japan, though we've been back for quite some time now.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Japan, Finally
Where to start? I've had to share my computer with a number of family members on this trip, and time and access to the laptop have been in short supply, it seems. Good thing I'm not expecting to get paid for these blog entries.
Q: Why has the U.S. still not discovered the convenience of simple syrup in a single-serve size for iced coffee and tea in restaurants? We had them when we lived here 20 years ago, and we in the U.S. still live without them in 2010 for Pete's sake!
Fact (from here on noted by the letter "F", followed by a colon): My four-year-old officially learned how to spell her own and her sister's name while on this trip. She also learned how to use the room-to-room phone.
Q: Why do I find better bread products, including croissants, in Tokyo than I can find anywhere in the States?
F: Money in currencies other than one's own always feels like play money and is so easy to spend because it doesn't feel real.
Q: Why does Starbucks offer Short, in addition to Tall, Grande, and Venti in Japan, but not in the U.S.? (Anyone reading this post, I challenge you to walk into a Stateside Starbucks and ask for a "Short." Go ahead, you know you want to!)
F: I forgot how melted I get halfway through a summer day in Japan without my air-conditioned automobile. The trains are a great convenience, but in 98 degree weather, it's hard to arrive looking and feeling fresh and ready to party. It's more like wilted and ready for a dip in the pool followed by a nap. sigh.
Q: Why do Japanese look so much taller now than they did when I lived here twenty years ago? Now I'm just as diminutive here as I am anywhere else in the world.
F: Fashion in Japan has taken a decidedly casual turn since we were here eight years ago. The world's (and Japan's) economic slump has taken a toll on high fashion here. No more suits and heels. Now all we see are leggings, cropped pants, sun dresses, hawaiian shirts and sandals on both the men and the women—well, except for the sundresses. And lots of surfer hair in all shades. Kinda cool, though, because it's easier for a yank to fit in these days. A little bit, anyway.
I've had so many thoughts on our trip that I did not write down because we were in a hurry to go to one place or another. I'll try to be better about it since we leave Tokyo tomorrow morning for presumably slower-paced destinations. I just hope that connecting to the internet is easy.
Here's to posting more enlightening observations, with a bit more depth and analysis.
Q: Why has the U.S. still not discovered the convenience of simple syrup in a single-serve size for iced coffee and tea in restaurants? We had them when we lived here 20 years ago, and we in the U.S. still live without them in 2010 for Pete's sake!
Fact (from here on noted by the letter "F", followed by a colon): My four-year-old officially learned how to spell her own and her sister's name while on this trip. She also learned how to use the room-to-room phone.
Q: Why do I find better bread products, including croissants, in Tokyo than I can find anywhere in the States?
F: Money in currencies other than one's own always feels like play money and is so easy to spend because it doesn't feel real.
Q: Why does Starbucks offer Short, in addition to Tall, Grande, and Venti in Japan, but not in the U.S.? (Anyone reading this post, I challenge you to walk into a Stateside Starbucks and ask for a "Short." Go ahead, you know you want to!)
F: I forgot how melted I get halfway through a summer day in Japan without my air-conditioned automobile. The trains are a great convenience, but in 98 degree weather, it's hard to arrive looking and feeling fresh and ready to party. It's more like wilted and ready for a dip in the pool followed by a nap. sigh.
Q: Why do Japanese look so much taller now than they did when I lived here twenty years ago? Now I'm just as diminutive here as I am anywhere else in the world.
F: Fashion in Japan has taken a decidedly casual turn since we were here eight years ago. The world's (and Japan's) economic slump has taken a toll on high fashion here. No more suits and heels. Now all we see are leggings, cropped pants, sun dresses, hawaiian shirts and sandals on both the men and the women—well, except for the sundresses. And lots of surfer hair in all shades. Kinda cool, though, because it's easier for a yank to fit in these days. A little bit, anyway.
I've had so many thoughts on our trip that I did not write down because we were in a hurry to go to one place or another. I'll try to be better about it since we leave Tokyo tomorrow morning for presumably slower-paced destinations. I just hope that connecting to the internet is easy.
Here's to posting more enlightening observations, with a bit more depth and analysis.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Dreams, anyone?
It's easy to forget to dream. The problem with forgetting to dream, though, is that you are leaving behind a part of yourself. I challenge anyone reading this to share just one dream out loud, in print, right here. :)
Tappahannock Eats & Drinks
Here we are at the "Gateway to the Rivah", known to most as Tappahannock.
And now for small review . . .
This Fourth of July my parents decided that cooking was a nuisance, and since I'm not one to argue with someone who says, "Let's let someone else do the work this time," I happily agreed, with my brood in tow, to try out the newest restaurant in town. We weren't sure what we would find, but I'm glad we took the chance.
Tappahannock boasts a few well-known, local, longtime (and long-ish-time) restaurants. There are Lowry's and Ferebee's, T n' L BBQ, and Java Jack's Coffee House to name a few. Others have come and gone with barely a whisper. When the opening of Buoy 17 was announced, my father was immediately skeptical that it would last, if only because of the string of ghosts the location has wandering about it's perimeter. No, not real ghosts, just the ghosts of restaurants past.
Sometimes it matters which side of the tracks you're on. Or in this case, which side of the road. I guess the same would be true of any road that cuts through the middle of a small American town: if you own a gas station, you want to be located on the right side as people are leaving; if you own a restaurant, you want to be on the right as they are coming in. Buoy 17 sort of bucks that notion, but, heck, someone has to do it.
So what genre of food do you get at Buoy 17? Seafood, Steaks and Burgers, just like it says on the front of the menu. Now, these sorts of establishments in a small riverside town can be the proverbial dime-a-dozen, so my expectations were not all that high, but it had been a while since I had indulged in the All-American version of fruits de la mer, so I scanned the menu with an open mind.
There are enough items on the menu that listing them here, untested and untried by our group, would be a complete waste of time—I'll leave it to the next reviewer to choose something else from the menu. We chose to order the Crab Dip with fried pita disks and the Fried Calamari with sweet chili lime sauce to start. Both, I must say, were excellent. Easy on the palate and enough to share.
My youngest, below kindergarten age, had the mini-burgers from the kids' menu. She's not very adventurous for someone who loves to cook.
The others of us ordered the Calamari Dinner (see sweet chili lime connection above), Fish and Chips, the Crab Cake Sandwich meal (the special), the Broiled Haddock Fillet entree, and my husband and I ordered our meal to split between us: one Tossed Garden Salad, the Seafood Platter Dinner, and two orders of the homemade Bread Pudding.
I can tell you that everyone was happy with what they ordered, with the possible exception of the youngest, who these days loves the idea of food more than the reality of it. Whether the seafood was breaded and fried or broiled with butter everyone noted the flavor, freshness, and texture. The cole slaw was flavorful, not overly saucy, and, as my husband put it, complex enough that you felt the person(s) making it actually cared about the food people would be eating. The portions were good, the prices were right, and from the sound of it, they will be adding to the menu as they go along.
If I had to make a suggestion, it would be to increase the number of broiled, light (easy on the butter) seafood plates offered and increase the number of colorful veggie side items as well. But as they've only been open since the Friday before July 4th, they're already doing pretty well, and tweaking the menu over time should be pretty easy.
Everything on the menu seemed to be genuinely homemade—nothing tasted like something I could pull out of the grocer's freezer and toss on a pan for 20 minutes at 400 degrees F. They do all their own hand breading of fresh seafood items, I was told. Mary, our server, was pleasant, helpful, and seemed genuinely happy to be sharing time and space with everyone around her.
We had the opportunity to chat with Melissa Girouard who, along with her husband, Dan, owns Buoy 17. I'm still amazed that with no idea in January that they would become restaurateurs, they purchased the building in March and were ready for business by July 4th weekend. Melissa (I hope she doesn't mind my using her first name) said it's been a great deal of work, but with her family stepping up to the plate to help, it's all come together.
They do not have a liquor license as yet, but she is hopeful that it will come through any day, and by the look of it, the bar area is a lively sports den waiting to happen. I could see the wide screen TV from where I was sitting in the main dining room, and I could easily imagine hanging out in the bar area once they're up and running.
Melissa says they are planning to institute a kids' night and lunch specials with an eye toward a catering arm down the road.
They're still working on getting the web site up and running, but Mrs. Girouard says that even with no advertising whatsoever their opening day was fantastic. They seemed to get a steady stream of customers coming through the door simply through word of mouth (you can do that in a small town, you know).
www.buoy17.com will be the web address once the site is up and running. Everything has happened so quickly that not every detail is in place, but as the saying goes, if you wait 'til all the lights are green before you leave the house, you'll never get to the grocery store.
One thing I can give you are the address and telephone number:
Buoy 17
1309 Tappahannock Blvd.
Tappahannock, VA 22560
804-443-8024
The other thing I can give is a recommendation that if you're passing through town or staying for a visit, you should give Buoy 17 a try. If the food stays true to opening weekend, you'll be glad you did.
And now for small review . . .
This Fourth of July my parents decided that cooking was a nuisance, and since I'm not one to argue with someone who says, "Let's let someone else do the work this time," I happily agreed, with my brood in tow, to try out the newest restaurant in town. We weren't sure what we would find, but I'm glad we took the chance.
Tappahannock boasts a few well-known, local, longtime (and long-ish-time) restaurants. There are Lowry's and Ferebee's, T n' L BBQ, and Java Jack's Coffee House to name a few. Others have come and gone with barely a whisper. When the opening of Buoy 17 was announced, my father was immediately skeptical that it would last, if only because of the string of ghosts the location has wandering about it's perimeter. No, not real ghosts, just the ghosts of restaurants past.
Sometimes it matters which side of the tracks you're on. Or in this case, which side of the road. I guess the same would be true of any road that cuts through the middle of a small American town: if you own a gas station, you want to be located on the right side as people are leaving; if you own a restaurant, you want to be on the right as they are coming in. Buoy 17 sort of bucks that notion, but, heck, someone has to do it.
So what genre of food do you get at Buoy 17? Seafood, Steaks and Burgers, just like it says on the front of the menu. Now, these sorts of establishments in a small riverside town can be the proverbial dime-a-dozen, so my expectations were not all that high, but it had been a while since I had indulged in the All-American version of fruits de la mer, so I scanned the menu with an open mind.
There are enough items on the menu that listing them here, untested and untried by our group, would be a complete waste of time—I'll leave it to the next reviewer to choose something else from the menu. We chose to order the Crab Dip with fried pita disks and the Fried Calamari with sweet chili lime sauce to start. Both, I must say, were excellent. Easy on the palate and enough to share.
My youngest, below kindergarten age, had the mini-burgers from the kids' menu. She's not very adventurous for someone who loves to cook.
The others of us ordered the Calamari Dinner (see sweet chili lime connection above), Fish and Chips, the Crab Cake Sandwich meal (the special), the Broiled Haddock Fillet entree, and my husband and I ordered our meal to split between us: one Tossed Garden Salad, the Seafood Platter Dinner, and two orders of the homemade Bread Pudding.
I can tell you that everyone was happy with what they ordered, with the possible exception of the youngest, who these days loves the idea of food more than the reality of it. Whether the seafood was breaded and fried or broiled with butter everyone noted the flavor, freshness, and texture. The cole slaw was flavorful, not overly saucy, and, as my husband put it, complex enough that you felt the person(s) making it actually cared about the food people would be eating. The portions were good, the prices were right, and from the sound of it, they will be adding to the menu as they go along.
If I had to make a suggestion, it would be to increase the number of broiled, light (easy on the butter) seafood plates offered and increase the number of colorful veggie side items as well. But as they've only been open since the Friday before July 4th, they're already doing pretty well, and tweaking the menu over time should be pretty easy.
Everything on the menu seemed to be genuinely homemade—nothing tasted like something I could pull out of the grocer's freezer and toss on a pan for 20 minutes at 400 degrees F. They do all their own hand breading of fresh seafood items, I was told. Mary, our server, was pleasant, helpful, and seemed genuinely happy to be sharing time and space with everyone around her.
We had the opportunity to chat with Melissa Girouard who, along with her husband, Dan, owns Buoy 17. I'm still amazed that with no idea in January that they would become restaurateurs, they purchased the building in March and were ready for business by July 4th weekend. Melissa (I hope she doesn't mind my using her first name) said it's been a great deal of work, but with her family stepping up to the plate to help, it's all come together.
They do not have a liquor license as yet, but she is hopeful that it will come through any day, and by the look of it, the bar area is a lively sports den waiting to happen. I could see the wide screen TV from where I was sitting in the main dining room, and I could easily imagine hanging out in the bar area once they're up and running.
Melissa says they are planning to institute a kids' night and lunch specials with an eye toward a catering arm down the road.
They're still working on getting the web site up and running, but Mrs. Girouard says that even with no advertising whatsoever their opening day was fantastic. They seemed to get a steady stream of customers coming through the door simply through word of mouth (you can do that in a small town, you know).
www.buoy17.com will be the web address once the site is up and running. Everything has happened so quickly that not every detail is in place, but as the saying goes, if you wait 'til all the lights are green before you leave the house, you'll never get to the grocery store.
One thing I can give you are the address and telephone number:
Buoy 17
1309 Tappahannock Blvd.
Tappahannock, VA 22560
804-443-8024
The other thing I can give is a recommendation that if you're passing through town or staying for a visit, you should give Buoy 17 a try. If the food stays true to opening weekend, you'll be glad you did.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Summer Heat
The summer weather on the mid-Atlantic portion of east coast is always hot and humid, with the exception last year's gorgeous temperatures, and summer is now fully upon us. For the second time in a month, our air conditioner is experiencing technical difficulties, and I am told that the replacement part for the condenser will be another five days in transit before it can possibly be put in place to cool us off.
I'm sure by now my second-grader knows very well how to spell the word "sweat". It apparently was 98 degrees Farenheit yesterday afternoon, feeling more like 101 ("they" said), but I've become so used to living with the heat that I can't say it bothered me as much as I would have expected.
My husband and I prefer natural air to recycled air anyway, and we are frequently the last in our neighborhood to turn on the AC in summer. For one thing, the condensers are loud, and living in close quarters to our neighbors as we do, it becomes a challenge to ignore the loud hum of the machines. It is interesting to see how dependent we humans become on air conditioning once we give in to the temptation of turning it on. We decide we cannot possibly survive without it. We're melting (like the witch in the Wizard of OZ?); we feel we're dying of the heat and humidity; we find ourselves unable to accomplish much of anything as our limbs are so heavy and we are so sleepy. We're just plain exhausted.
A number of things come to mind.
1) The heat really can make people ill, and the elderly and those with respiratory ailments must be very careful.
2) One does need to hydrate to make up for fluids lost to perspiration.
3) And I will confess that the extreme heat and humidity can make me terribly sluggish. I really do feel as if I could curl up and spend the day sleeping. I'm reminded of those desert animals that sleep in the hottest part of the day and come out once the temperature has dropped to a more manageable level.
Yesterday I was talking with my father-in-law about what people did in previous decades to achieve maximum summer heat avoidance [It is always fascinating to talk to people about those aspects of life B.M. T. (Before My Time) that never seem to make the history books and documentaries.). In dry hot climates, a method known as evaporative cooling (as opposed to refrigerative cooling, the method we call air conditioning] was used. I looked this up on Wikipedia, and, not surprisingly, this low-tech method has been used throughout history wherever the climate was hot and dry enough to put it to good use.
Unfortunately, where we live, the air already has enough water in it to sink the nearest battleship, so I guess we're stuck with the more expensive type of air cooling, refrigerative, which uses freon, (just like your refrigerator) and which actually removes moisture from the air. The cooled air is what allows us to put in a normal day's work without needing a three hour siesta and without feeling like we're moving in slow motion in the process.
The one beef I really have with this technology that I can't bring myself to live without, however, is that when I do spend my days in air conditioning—and sometimes very cold air conditioning—I feel as if I'm missing out on the season that, as a child, I used to long for throughout the other three seasons of the year. God forbid I catch a summer cold as a result of freezing indoors, and before I know it, it's time for school, football games, schedules, driving hither and yon, a new round of cold & flu season, and . . . you get the picture.
I like to get really sick of the heat so that Fall is a welcome relief. So, I guess this blog post is ultimately an affirmation of the heat of summer and an acceptance of the air condition-less state of my house. Others may express sympathy, but in a way it is a blessing. I may yet reach that point of summer heat saturation by the time Fall rolls around, and I will have the satisfaction of knowing that I can welcome Autumn's cool, having spent June, July, and August going all melty around the edges, as I am supposed to.
I'm sure by now my second-grader knows very well how to spell the word "sweat". It apparently was 98 degrees Farenheit yesterday afternoon, feeling more like 101 ("they" said), but I've become so used to living with the heat that I can't say it bothered me as much as I would have expected.
My husband and I prefer natural air to recycled air anyway, and we are frequently the last in our neighborhood to turn on the AC in summer. For one thing, the condensers are loud, and living in close quarters to our neighbors as we do, it becomes a challenge to ignore the loud hum of the machines. It is interesting to see how dependent we humans become on air conditioning once we give in to the temptation of turning it on. We decide we cannot possibly survive without it. We're melting (like the witch in the Wizard of OZ?); we feel we're dying of the heat and humidity; we find ourselves unable to accomplish much of anything as our limbs are so heavy and we are so sleepy. We're just plain exhausted.
A number of things come to mind.
1) The heat really can make people ill, and the elderly and those with respiratory ailments must be very careful.
2) One does need to hydrate to make up for fluids lost to perspiration.
3) And I will confess that the extreme heat and humidity can make me terribly sluggish. I really do feel as if I could curl up and spend the day sleeping. I'm reminded of those desert animals that sleep in the hottest part of the day and come out once the temperature has dropped to a more manageable level.
Yesterday I was talking with my father-in-law about what people did in previous decades to achieve maximum summer heat avoidance [It is always fascinating to talk to people about those aspects of life B.M. T. (Before My Time) that never seem to make the history books and documentaries.). In dry hot climates, a method known as evaporative cooling (as opposed to refrigerative cooling, the method we call air conditioning] was used. I looked this up on Wikipedia, and, not surprisingly, this low-tech method has been used throughout history wherever the climate was hot and dry enough to put it to good use.
Unfortunately, where we live, the air already has enough water in it to sink the nearest battleship, so I guess we're stuck with the more expensive type of air cooling, refrigerative, which uses freon, (just like your refrigerator) and which actually removes moisture from the air. The cooled air is what allows us to put in a normal day's work without needing a three hour siesta and without feeling like we're moving in slow motion in the process.
The one beef I really have with this technology that I can't bring myself to live without, however, is that when I do spend my days in air conditioning—and sometimes very cold air conditioning—I feel as if I'm missing out on the season that, as a child, I used to long for throughout the other three seasons of the year. God forbid I catch a summer cold as a result of freezing indoors, and before I know it, it's time for school, football games, schedules, driving hither and yon, a new round of cold & flu season, and . . . you get the picture.
I like to get really sick of the heat so that Fall is a welcome relief. So, I guess this blog post is ultimately an affirmation of the heat of summer and an acceptance of the air condition-less state of my house. Others may express sympathy, but in a way it is a blessing. I may yet reach that point of summer heat saturation by the time Fall rolls around, and I will have the satisfaction of knowing that I can welcome Autumn's cool, having spent June, July, and August going all melty around the edges, as I am supposed to.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Sophie
1996—
Wrenching open the lowest cabinet door, the little red haired girl reached in and grabbed the family-sized box of cornflakes. Too big for her little hand, the box bumped into the rim of the cabinet, flying out of her hand and landing flat on its side on the linoleum.
"Uh oh," she exclaimed loudly, picking it up and pushing the cabinet door closed with a bang.
As she hugged the box tightly to the chest of her red footie pajamas, she marched to the table in the corner of the kitchen like a medieval courier relaying an important document to the king.
Whump! She slammed the box down on the smooth wooden surface. The box responded by falling over with a thud.
She shuffled over to the shelf beneath the window where her plates, bowls, forks, spoons, knives and cups awaited her summons. Being especially careful not to knock anything over, she removed one bowl and one spoon from the collection and took them over to the table to join the box of cereal, still lying on its side.
Climbing onto the adult-sized wooden chair, she poised herself to prepare her breakfast. With a determined look of concentration, she opened the colorful cardboard box and uncrumpled the waxed paper. She positioned her bowl just before her, then . . . out came the golden-brown flakes of cereal with a sound like rustling leaves. Gently shaking, shaking the box, the little girl poured until her bowl was full.
She had just gone to the refrigerator to get the red and white carton of milk and was setting it down on the table when her father, with a loud yawn, walked in, tying the belt on his bathrobe.
"Hey, kiddo, do you want me to get the sugar bowl down for you?" he asked, tousling her hair and giving her a kiss on the forehead.
"No. No sugar. I don't like sugar on my cereal, silly Daddy!" she scolded. Her lips pursed and eyes focused, she cautiously poured the milk over her breakfast.
"Okay, okay," her father laughed as opened the can of coffee. "I was just asking."
Her little pajama-clad feet dangling under the table, the little girl with the red hair happily munched her cereal as she began another sunny Saturday morning.
Wrenching open the lowest cabinet door, the little red haired girl reached in and grabbed the family-sized box of cornflakes. Too big for her little hand, the box bumped into the rim of the cabinet, flying out of her hand and landing flat on its side on the linoleum.
"Uh oh," she exclaimed loudly, picking it up and pushing the cabinet door closed with a bang.
As she hugged the box tightly to the chest of her red footie pajamas, she marched to the table in the corner of the kitchen like a medieval courier relaying an important document to the king.
Whump! She slammed the box down on the smooth wooden surface. The box responded by falling over with a thud.
She shuffled over to the shelf beneath the window where her plates, bowls, forks, spoons, knives and cups awaited her summons. Being especially careful not to knock anything over, she removed one bowl and one spoon from the collection and took them over to the table to join the box of cereal, still lying on its side.
Climbing onto the adult-sized wooden chair, she poised herself to prepare her breakfast. With a determined look of concentration, she opened the colorful cardboard box and uncrumpled the waxed paper. She positioned her bowl just before her, then . . . out came the golden-brown flakes of cereal with a sound like rustling leaves. Gently shaking, shaking the box, the little girl poured until her bowl was full.
She had just gone to the refrigerator to get the red and white carton of milk and was setting it down on the table when her father, with a loud yawn, walked in, tying the belt on his bathrobe.
"Hey, kiddo, do you want me to get the sugar bowl down for you?" he asked, tousling her hair and giving her a kiss on the forehead.
"No. No sugar. I don't like sugar on my cereal, silly Daddy!" she scolded. Her lips pursed and eyes focused, she cautiously poured the milk over her breakfast.
"Okay, okay," her father laughed as opened the can of coffee. "I was just asking."
Her little pajama-clad feet dangling under the table, the little girl with the red hair happily munched her cereal as she began another sunny Saturday morning.
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