snow days

You know... I've had enough of snow. We have been hit with three major storms in the month of February and have spent many days sitting by the fire smoking cigars and sipping scotch. I guess it's a good thing I have a four wheeler, I don't even shovel my driveway. I used to cross country ski alot and when this sort of weather would hit, I'd be out there. There are enough miles on the towpath that runs along the Delaware that I could go out for miles and miles. Not inspired enough I suppose.

reunion reunion

Well... Talk about a HOME Vacation.... Janet is reuniting with a bunch of her sorority sisters/drinking buddies at her house tonight! There is a lot of beer and as they crackle with laughter in the other room I'm watching the Yankees win another game in the postseason. Actually, I'm having a great time, making beer runs for the ladies in between innings.

It is very comforting to be a part of this though. Janet is certainly very happy to be with these people, some of whom she's not seen in 30 years!!!! Having been around the world, literally, a couple of times, it is wonderful to see such love and affection transcend decades. Home is the place to be.....

If only we could turn off the damned awful music.

whew

Well...somehow I survived the Eagles game! I clapped and cheered and high-fived with the best of them, because I didn't really have a dog in the fight... That comes next week with Michael Vick joining the birds.... Seriously though I didn't care which way the game turned out....although as a fan of the NFC East Giants the Eagles stand in the way of my team's success....

Well, it was a blow out. The Eagles lost 44-28. The fans quieted with the growing gap in the score and the crowds dissipated. Janet and I stayed until the very end, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine from the upper regions of Lincoln Financial Field, our legs stretched out and sipping the last of our beer. Somehow I survived, although I was the only person in the entire stadium not wearing something "eagle" like....

fly eagles fly

Okay...all of you who read this blog know my devotion to the NY Giants. Well, the extremely viable other half of this Home Vacation Team has decided to test my mettle and has scored tickets for the Philadelphia Eagles / New Orleans Saints contest this Sunday. Doubly dangerous for this sorry ass Giants fan is that the seats are in the notoriously raucous nose bleed seats. We will be just a few rows from the upper rim of the stadium.

Hopefully no one will "help" me act out the Eagles Fight Song....

(go giants...ssshhhh)

9-9-09

So... here I am on this supposedly portentous day trying to figure out if it's a good one or not. The number 9 is considered a complete number by numerologists. It is the highest number of a sequence... i.e. 1-9, 10-19, etc. A date like today, 9/9/09, is the last set of repeating single digit dates until 1/1/2101. It's also effectively the end of summer. Labor day came two days ago and though we've got until the 21st, the skies are already gloomy and the air cooler.

Our last official hurrah for the summer was another trek down to Delaware. Our gracious hosts again opened their home to us and we spent the weekend at the somewhat dodgy shores of the First State. Friday we kicked around the house after laying in a supply of beer and food. On Saturday we visited Herring Point at Cape Henlopen. This state park holds a special significance to Carl and Jill as they have been a part of an educational team from their Pennsylvania school district that brings kids here each year.

We kicked back by the murky waves and watched people and their dogs. Janet and I then clamored over a jetty and weaved past a long line of suv's parked on the beach and ducked past fishing lines strung from surf poles stuck in the sand and people playing loud games of horseshoes. We walked quite a distance; nearly to Rehobeth Beach and only turned around at the first military tower that rises ominously from the surf like a stubborn old coot refusing to move away. We circled the sentinel and turned around for our chairs.

We never made it Rehobeth Beach proper, nor did we go to the Dogfish Head Brewery tour in Milton; two things we had planned. The weekend was instead like a long nap. Saturday night I prepared my ever popular "Chicken Dunaj" and we were all nodding off like the old folks we are no later than 10 p.m.

Sunday we left for home, but not until we went to Broadkill Beach for a few hours. It is literally a spit of sand on the bay, littered with horseshoe crab shells. You have to drive miles through the Prime Hook National Wildlife Refuge which is beautiful and there is a little snack shop right near the beach entrance that serves great milk shakes, but I've never been a great fan of Broadkill.
There is a dingy feel to it and I'd rather drive the extra miles to a resort beach.

My opinion of Broadkill changed a lot when we visited Carl and Jill's neighbors. They own a large home in a gated community a few miles north of Broadkill proper. Situated right on the water and with lots of room the beach seemed wider and the water less murky and more ocean than bay. This particular day the wind was kicking up and their friends were out in small sailing boats and their kids and dogs were either cavorting in the water or splashing in the pool.

It was humbling. Looking at the wealth displayed I was painfully aware of my personal lack of intelligence.

Sadly, I was unable to make a beeline for the Dogfish head brewery pub in Rehobeth, for we had to leave for home. This is a good thing, for I might have remained there, chaining myself to one of the taps.

Thanks for reading this blog. I guess it has had its run. Still as time permits and events and places reveal themselves to me, I will add more. Hope you have enjoyed everything so far.
love,
greg

endless summer

Well this has been a curious week for your most favored friendly and vivacious home vacation team as one of us had to return to work! I suppose it was inevitable that the new school year would begin for Janet, no matter how long the days of summer. At least she had no students this first week and was able to ease into the routine of her job.


I on the other hand remain gainfully unemployed. I am on permanent hiatis. My summer remains endless. Of course it's not without trying to change the situation. I keep buying lottery tickets........

But, rather than continuing to bore you with details of my financial ruin, I'll get right back into the activities of the past weekend.

Rain cancelled a concert at the park that is across the street from Janet's place. Inclement weather has sadly ruined much of the summer's slate of activities, for such shows were cause for impromptu parties at Janet's house. People would amble back and forth from the show to her house for the plumbing and libations would be poured. Location location location.
Well, this past Friday's concert was cancelled because of rain but the lovely and charming Leslie came to the rescue and offered her own home as a gathering place for a small party. With a table laden with meatballs and homemade hummus and bruscetta (sic?) and a nice selection of beers and drinks we were graced with her kindness and hospitality. Another friend and her daughter came over eventually and we gathered around the food and chatted into the night.

Now you may ask how is a man able to endure such a lengthy time with three women talking about "women" things?

Beer.

Actually it was a lot of fun, except when the conversation lolled off into a long tangent about hot flashes and menopause.... At that point I had to stand up and scratch myself and go into the bathroom.... for a long time.
When I came back I tried to steer the chatter towards sports and was told to take out the garbage!
Hopefully you'll realize I am exaggerating. It was a very nice night and it was an honor to be accepted into this new circle of friends.

On Saturday we traveled back to New Jersey to the Howell Farm Fiddling Contest! Howell Farm is a living history museum, just on the outskirts of Lambertville. It was a great place when my children were younger to bring them for a free afternoon. According to their website, Howell Farm is an educational facility open to the public that preserves and interprets farming life and processes from the era of 1890-1910. www.howellfarm.com/ Best of all it was FREE. The kids could see and sometimes pet sheep and chickens and horses and pigs. They were often allowed to go into the hen house to fetch freshly laid eggs. They were able to participate in arts and crafts, go on hay rides, easter egg hunts, draw water from a hand pump, help dig for potatoes and watch people in period dress tap maple trees for syrup.

In the 20 years I've lived in Lambertville Howell Farm has grown up. It used to be a sleepy place, but last weekend the place was humming. There is a new "barn" that is the welcoming building and where they held their annual fiddle contest. Each participant was allowed two songs. Sometimes they were solo, sometimes they were accompanied by a banjo, guitar or bass fiddle. There were kids and adults playing and two different categories. The youth division was won by a boy who played beyond his years and the adult was won by rotund fellow that played with such flourish that the crowd cheered wildly when he finished. Most of the music was "bluegrass" and we heard more than one version of "Turkey in The Straw," but because of the two song limit we were not bored as the styles changed with every peformer.

There was home made ice cream and food for purchase and a young woman gave out tickets when we entered for door prizes like honey and Trenton Thunder baseball tickets. No purchase was necessary for the tickets, they just handed them out when we entered.

It was a good day. I'm considering going back this Labor Day weekend for their annual Plowing Match!

nothing to squawk about....

Now I must remind you my dear loyal wonderful readers that though I am in Lambertville and much closer to Philadelphia than NYC, I remain a loyal fan of all New York sports. Funny part is, I am dating a fan as devout as I to her hometown sports.


It makes for some difficult times. Yes, she roots for the Eagles and the Phillies... I root for the Giants and Yankees.... Thankfully the one thing we can agree upon is the Mets. We're not fans of that team, for a myriad of reasons and because of this an uneasy coexistance permeates our lives together. Of course, as the lead members of your Home Vacation Team we remain professional in our quest to find all things good and cheap and fun to share with you.


Janet, who has T.O.'s number tattooed on her shoulder and loves dressing as Donovan McNabb on Halloween and goes into convulsions every time Chase Utley is at bat, purchased tickets in March to a Phillies/Diamonbacks game for August 18th; this past Tuesday. I cannot afford to purchase similar tickets at Yankee Stadium and she got hers at the incredible price of $39 per, which included preferred parking passes! Best of all, it turns out that Pedro Martinez, a pitcher I've admired since his days with the Boston Red Sox and the New York Mets, had come out of retirement to pitch for the Sillies...sorry.... had to slip that in!... and was making his second start for the team that night! As a fan of the game I was terribly excited.


We first had a couple of beers and some wings at the iconic Chickie's and Pete's Crab House and Sports Bar. According to my Philadelphia counterpart of the equally iconic Home Vacation Team, "Chickie" is a South Philadelphia nickname for Charles....not some girl in a bikini.... The vast open bar was buzzing with excitement; the last time Martinez pitched the Phillies won 12-3. The wings were crunchy and hot and most importantly, reasonably priced. We had just one beer each and nothing else to eat; we wanted to save ourselves for the ball park. So, with thoughts of crab fries and mussels and burgers toying with our palates, we drove across Broad Street into the south Philadelphia sports complex and Citizen's Bank Park.


Our seats were just beyond first base about 17 rows back; great seats to get whacked by a foul ball. Before we took our seats though, we had to eat. We toured the ballpark and walked along the perimeter ogling all the fine cuisine available. There were several cheese steak stands, the Schmitter, created by McNally's in Chestnut Hill, was available and all the typical food available at ballparks throughout the country. But, at CBP at someplace called Asburn Alley is Greg "The Bull" Luzinski's Bull's BBQ! I had been to the park once before with my friend Stan, a big Phillie's fan and he introduced me to Luzinski and the great bbq his place serves and was thankful that Janet too was looking forward to eating here. We bought a couple of Pulled Pork Sandwiches bought some Yards Philadelphia Pale Ales and the Brewerytown beer stand just opposite of our section 113 and stood at the counter that edges all the seating on the concourse level and enjoyed our meal. The phenomenal part of this whole escapade is that all the beers, whether it be Miller Lite or a craft brew like Yards, are all priced exactly the same. They may be typically steep at $6.75, but at least you can drink quality beer for the same price as swill.


Janet has spoken often about her times at the ballpark, about how she and her friend, Carol, another fan of the World Champion Phillies, know right where to go for the best beers and the foods they enjoy eating at the park and at Chickie's and Pete's. Janet has told me several times about two particular vendors that ply the aisles and as much as the game I was looking forward to seeing these two. One is a dour old man who mumbles something that is not understood. If he did not hold aloft a Crackerjack box, one would never know what he was selling. Another was a squawking Miller Lite guy who wears a fake parrot on his shoulder and periodically dons an eye patch like some modern privateer. He squawks and yells and well, if you look for the video attached to today's entry, you'll get a better idea of his personal zaniness.



Of course, there was a game too. It turned out that Pedro Martinez, a pitcher whose career I've followed since he pitched for the hated Boston Red Sox, was making his second start for the Phillies. While there he was involved in a fight with the Yankees old bench coach, Don Zimmer. Zimmer had charged him when the benches emptied for whatever reason and Pedro tossed the rotund old man to the ground. He was a good pitcher and hated by the Yankees, which was nice that he eventually signed with the equally despised (by Yankee fans) NY Mets. He was with the Mets for a few years and then retired. This was his second game for the Phillies and the place was sold out. In any event he gave up a homer to the first Diamonbacks batter and the second man up reached base. The joint was grumbling a bit, but after that the seasoned pro shut them down for three innings. Then a long rain delay sat him down for the rest of the night. Clouds in the twilight sky turned inky black with slashes of brilliant blue light illuminating their outline. It had been very hot and humid and the wind picked up swirling debris through the stands, cooling us. After the third inning though the grounds crew sprinted out onto the field, though it had not yet begun to rain. We, along with everyone else in the stands, took this as a cue to leave for they obviously knew what was coming. Sure enough, within minutes a torrential rain soaked us, for we were unable to get up the stadium stairs in time because everyone was doing the same thing. Finally reaching shelter we dripped into fresh beers as we watched the sky crackle with lightning and the wind lashed the rain sideways.

A lot of people left, but the rain eventually let up enough to continue the game. Pedro was replaced by Jamie Moyer who shut the D-backs down as the Phillies poured on the runs.... (like the rain reference?) Many people left and we first moved down and over to within a few rows of first base. While there a ball being tossed around between innings whistled by my head. I watched, stupidly, as the thing banged against the empty seats behind me, rolled under my feet and into the aisle in front of us and was grabbed by some woman who just happened to be picking up errant kernels of popcorn from the floor when it plopped into her portly flippers. I didn't react at all, or more importantly, made the right decision to protect my beer!

Eventually we slinked our way down to the dugout, which was almost a big mistake. Had I not tackled the enthusiastic Janet before she clamored onto the Phillies dugout she would surely had sought more than autographs from her favored team! Neither of us had ever been this close to the field and we cheered the team on for the final 2 innings from this precious perch. It was a great night, even if a "Bull Dog" grilled kielbasa we shared during the rain delay wanted to come back and visit us in the middle of the night....

Update: This Sunday the Phillies ended a game with the New York Mets with an unassisted Triple Play. The last time this happened was in 1927 and only the second time it had ever happened in major league play. The runners were moving with the pitch and second baseman, Eric Bruntlett, (filling in for the resting Chase Utley) caught a line drive, stepped on second and tagged out the advancing runner from first.

We had gone to Brother Paul's, an Eagleville tavern with a very nice selection of beers for some wings and beer, where we had caught this unlikely event. Serendipity and chance are powerful things, for we were out galavanting around when I offered to buy Janet an afternoon libation and the old stone bar was the nearest joint. Good fortune seems to follow us around!