DelSo Wine Oh!

Here's how we do summer Sundays in the DelSo.

Normanskill Run

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Beach Bonfire - UPDATED with photos!

When I was polling the boys, prior to our annual Cape Cod trip, about what they might be interested in doing Griffin requested a bonfire on the beach.  Yep, the same boy who took surfing lessons and wanted to visit L.A.  He's a dude in the making, fer sure.  

The process for legally having a fire at one of a select few of Wellfleet's beaches (3 ocean beach options) is fairly straight forward: you must have a permit and permits are issued on a first come, first served basis, day of only. By the time I hit the beach office at 10:00 in the morning, two of the three beaches were "full" already, leaving White Crest, a beach I don't recall visiting in the past, as our default option.  Because a full moon was expected, I happily took my free permit and mentally made a to-do list...

The little guys were in charge of gathering kindling wood and they did a super job making a pile of sticks and twigs.  Actually, they made two piles, one of which was firewood.  The other stack of branches was their arsenal of stick weapons.  Mostly rifles, I believe.  Both stacks were tossed into the car, and ultimately on to the fire, a situation which required profuse apologies and promises of weapon gathering come daylight.  Additional items acquired included graham crackers (we already had Hershey bars and marshmallows), more significant wood to burn (we had to choose from "hardwood" or "softwood." Have at it, jokesters!) and a lighter.  With all materials in hand, we headed to the beach just in time to see the moon seemingly rise from the majestic Atlantic.  Stunning.

You may have noticed I neglected to mention paper to assist in starting the fire.  

We neglected to think of, much less, bring paper.  No worries.  We cleaned our cars out of expired insurance id cards, printed out directions and other miscellaneous bits of paper from our glove boxes.  And the graham cracker box was pretty handy, too.  I have to say, we built a stupendous fire.  It was perfectly constructed in that pyramid/tepee shape and it burned beautifully. 

 

There was a breeze blowing from the south (east?) and the flames danced in the darkness as the moon played hide and seek with some errant clouds.  Marshmallows were toasted and our wild things frolicked on the beach, amped on sugar and salt air. Memories were made which will remain vivid far beyond the glow of our fire's embers. 

Great idea, Griffin.

Defining Luxury

Someone needs to explain to my children that spending two weeks at the beach every summer is a luxury, not something to be taken for granted. It's always been important to me that the boys have traditions in their lives, certain experiences that provide a constant thread throughout their childhoods.  Cape Cod vacations have been a part of their summers literally for their entire lives.  While there, we always eat at the Lobster Pot, we listen to the same song as we cross the bridge in Bourne, there is ice cream nearly every day.  It's what we do.

But, something seems to have backfired.   Their attitude is in danger of morphing into entitlement - is this how that happens?  Somehow they've gotten the impression that everyone spends two weeks frolicking in the Atlantic each and every year.  All of the preparations, the shopping and stocking up on tequila chips and granola bars, the packing of the linens, the beach toys, the clothing...the arrangements for the house and our dog while we're away...the bikes...they've gotten the impression that everything will managed. By me, apparently.  And, of course, I will take care of them and all the necessary details involved with making us all comfortable for two weeks in a place or two not our home.  It's what I do.

I work two jobs to be able to afford a two week vacation in Cape Cod.  This is a luxury. Which brings me to healthcare...I am firmly of the belief that every one in this country should be able to have access to medical care.   Getting sick and requiring medical attention is a completely different set of circumstances. It is a necessity.  I've been without health insurance and it is a bad place to be, certainly about as unlike a vacation at the beach as I can imagine. 

I understand that we all have issues with how our taxes are spent - I personally wish we spent as much money on education and the well being of our citizens as we do on war, but shouldn't everyone be able to bring their sick children to a doctor? If I lost my job, a possibility in these economic times when districts are eliminating positions left and right, my biggest fear would be healthcare. As someone who has already had cancer twice, as well as weird heart issues (obviously, a precise medical term), I can't imagine health insurers would be willingly lining up to give me coverage. What do you think? I don't know as much about Obamacare as I probably should, but it seems like a starting point as our country considers the health and well being of our citizens. To me, it seems a positive indication that someone cares about a basic and essential need in a civilized society. I think I might spend some time at the beach talking to the boys about how lucky we are to have two weeks at the beach. And health insurance every day.

Treetops to Rooftops - 5K

image: Bob Kopac

Last Saturday, on what may have been the most beautiful morning of June, a couple of friends and I ran the 4th edition of the Treetops to Rooftops 5K in the lower Hudson Valley.  Or, to be more precise, over the Hudson River via the Walkway over the Hudson.  In 2011, this race was my first 5K since I had fallen in love with running, and revisiting the course a year later, gave me an experience beyond that inaugural race - and a time 2 minutes faster.

If you're looking for a stunningly beautiful, essentially flat run, this course is for you.  It begins on the west side of the Hudson in Highland.  Runners line up according to anticipated mile speed and traverse up a small incline and then onto the walkway.  If you haven't taken the time to visit this state park - what are you waiting for?  On a clear day, the views are unparalleled and on this particular morning, I swear visibility was crazy clear.  The east side of the river (Poughkeepsie) is lovely and wooded and the turn around to head west comes remarkably fast.  There was a single water station on the Poughkeepsie side, which seemed appropriate for the time of the race (8:00 a.m.).  

I don't know if you can tell from the photo, but I was absolutely joyful to be running this race.  At one point, maybe a mile or so in, I had to refrain from releasing a big 'ol "Yippee!!!" as I looked south along the river at the sheer beauty as far as the eye could see.  Magnificent!  There were 420 finishers this year and I was 11th out of 51 in my age group, 162nd overall.  Not bad, but there's always opportunity for improvement. 

This race is held mid-June each year, so keep your eyes open for the registration and plan to be there next year.  You won't regret it. 

Notes on film and music

That title sounds pretentious, doesn't it? Apologies. I've consumed a movie and a cd recently and, while I had distinctly different opinions of the two experiences  there were similarities in the strength of my response to each of them, And the fact that the two primary artists involved, Johnny Depp and John Mayer, are beginning to morph into the same shaggy sexy looking guy.   Purely beyond the film, in Mr. Depp's case.

The best thing about the movie I saw a couple of weeks ago, was the popcorn.  And I broke a filling on a kernel.  It is probably more a statement about me than the film, but I just don't get this Johnny Depp, Tim Burton, Helena Bonham Carter love affair.  It's over and they need to take a five-year time out from each other before I'll pay to see another of their collaborations.  "Dark Shadows" was ridiculous, camp without humor, horror without suspense.  It was so bad it made me uncomfortable.  But, that's just me.

Now, I don't know what you know about John Mayer's new album, Born and Raised, but I'm kind of embarrassed about how much I love it.  Not like Jessica Simpson was when he described her as "sexual napalm," (And can you explain what made that such a criticism?  I think I would have been flattered) but still kind of sheepishly blushing.  I think the lyrics (call me Word Girl) are earnest and meaningful, the message is optimistically positive and the music is thoughtfully sincere. Despite his having obviously stolen an idea from me in the song "Love is a Verb," I can't help but be head over heels in love with the record.  I feel like it's one of those albums which will come to define a time period in my life.  Which is way better than wishing I had the 113 minutes back that I wasted watching that wretched movie.

So - there you have it, some topical, not necessarily sage, cultural advice.  You got something to share, too?  What movies have you seen?  Maybe some new music recommendations?

Are you my mother? And who's my daddy?

image: http://blog.schoollibraryjournal.com

It's been a weird weekend...I kind of hit the wall on a number of levels, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say, hit the wall  with numerous body parts.  Truth be told, I probably used my head the most.  I had so many options available to me; concerts, and old friends, and art and strawberries, yet I kind of shrugged it all off.  Unlike many decisions in life, I didn't get that immediate tingling sensation that confirms many of my choices.  I'm thinking maybe I'm a bit numb.  Summer vacation can't come soon enough.

Despite feeling less than great (I'm about to pop my 3rd Aleve in 2 days!) I've maintained my commitment to running 20 miles this week and it has been a struggle.  The music hasn't been quite right, and even if it were perfect, my right glute is screaming louder than any song playing.  Not tremendously fun or satisfying.

On my run Friday, I passed two elder(ly?) women walking.  They were on the opposite side of the street and I was wearing contacts, which don't do all they should to improve my vision.  I was taken aback by one of the women - she looked like my mother.  I think.  The last time I spoke to my mother in person was when she attempted a "scar-off" to prove that her heart surgery was way worse than my cancer surgery could have ever been.  Ok, you win and what have we proven?  That you have a heart and I can cut malignant things from my life and prosper? Fine.

Well, it is a little disconcerting to not be certain whether a person is, or is not, your parent. You'd think this would be a familiar sensation for me, growing up as I did wondering if every single man with a brogue was my father, but it was still weird.  I had a familiar train of thought ride through my head.  What will it be like when she's gone?  Will I stop seeing her everywhere the way I stopped imagining every Irishman to be my father once I knew he was gone?

I'm getting ready to be a stay at home mom for 10 weeks and I plan to slow down, enjoy my boys and try really hard to make sure that they always know who their parents are, two people who love them dearly.

Revolution by Jennifer Donnelly

image: jenniferdonnelly.com

Jennifer Donnelly, who resides in upstate New York, writes very engaging historical fiction.  Prior  to my reading Revolution, I had read a previous novel of hers, A Northern Light, which takes the Theodore Dreiser story An American Tragedy and changes the narrator to a female teenager working in an Adirondack boarding house.  Do you know this story?  In the early 20th century, Chester Gillette was convicted of murdering his pregnant lover Grace Brown and was put to death in the electric chair.  The novel was also adapted into a film, A Place in the Sun, starring, among others, Elizabeth Taylor and Montgomery Cliff.  You know it's a good story when books are still being inspired by it a century later.  Check that one out, too.

But, on to Revolution... Andi, a seriously depressed, Brooklyn teenager trying to survive the loss of her younger brother,  is the narrator of this novel which alternates between the 18th century French Revolution and contemporary Paris.  Andi is a gifted musician who depends upon her guitar to retain her precarious grasp on life.  Her suicidal state of mind is addressed with powerful medication, both pharmaceutical and musical, and the descriptions of both "drugs" are boldly honest.  I was struck by the following description of a very familiar, to me, Pink Floyd song:   "...a moody guitar comes in, there's a pause, and then four notes, clear and stunning: B-flat, F, G, E....David Gilmour got sadness down in four notes." 

 

The novel contains countless musical references beyond Shine on You Crazy Diamond.  As I was reading I was continually impressed with the author's knowledge of music from a wide array of genres - classical, pop, hip-hop, rap, traditional and others.  The musical descriptions were informative and added to the sensory stimulation present in the work. As someone who knows very little about the French Revolution, I found the history component to be really interesting, particularly the descriptions of the catacombs in Paris and the daily life of the royal family.  Despite her negative reputation, Marie Antoinette was portrayed with sympathy.  She may have been a shallow, spoiled woman but in this novel we are reminded that she was also a mother who has suffered the loss of numerous children.

A little history, a little mystery, some music and romance...sounds like a good summer read, friends. 

Bridgeford Hardware

I will always remember the hardware store in my hometown, Greenwood Lake, N.Y. Despite the time of day, it always seemed like dusk inside and I can remember being fascinated by the uncountable bins filled with washers, nails, screws and other unnamed shiny metal things. On the hottest of summer days, the store emanated a mildly damp coolness that made walking the aisles a quiet treat and I don't remember ever complaining about it being my turn to run a hardware errand. 

That store is long gone, but in the DelSo we have Bridgeford Hardware, a throwback to those simpler times. Unlike the "big box" stores it is unnecessary to waste time searching for someone for assistance. Employees are readily available to help with practical suggestions and expert advice. Last week I finally decided to suck it up and replace the the screening in my sliding door to the deck. Now generally I'm not the worst person in the world in terms of home maintenance issues, but my hesitation was prompted by my experience the last time I replaced the screen a couple of years ago. On that particular day, the door was placed back on its slider and within an hour Cassidy Lilly (our family's sweet black lab) felt the need to open the door with her sharp claw creating a new puncture. A hole which naturally has been expanding ever since until it ultimately became an ad hoc doggie door. 

With the arrival of spring, and my desire to improve my homeowner maintenance capabilities, I called Bridgeford and asked what we could do to prevent another screen repair job from going awry. Was there plexiglass which could be screwed to the lower part of the door? Perhaps chicken wire (aesthetics are secondary to function in some instances) could be stapled over the screen to provide an extra layer of fortification from Cassidy's need to independently let herself out to the deck? It was explained that neither of these were an option as the plexiglass would crack when affixed by screws and chicken wire was not available. As an alternative, the patient man suggested using a flat sheet of metal, the type typically used when making covers for old school radiators. He did caution that they were expensive, probably close to $25, which would bring the cost of the repair up to about $50. I ended the call and considered my options. And then - I remembered that I already had one of those sheets of metal! I even knew where it was - bonus. I carried the door and the metal to my car and mere hours later, I was pleased to rehang the door that would let a breeze into my family room, yet keep the majority of pesky bugs out. 

Despite the additional labor and hardware involved with affixing the metal sheet, I wasn't charged anymore than the regular price for a screen repair of that size, $25. As for Cassidy, she hasn't even attempted to let herself out, so the solution has been a complete success. And my childhood love for hardware stores, like my sliding door's screen, remains intact.

Hurricane Prep ~ Lilly Boy Style

Is there a better way to prepare for a major tropical storm than practicing getting tossed around by water and wind?  I don't think so!  Screw that filling up the tub with water nonsense and buying more toilet paper than a typical family of four uses in a month of eating tacos.  Not here - we prepared for the elements.  We built up our tolerance for being splashed in the face and getting our feet and bodies drenched.  Bring it on, Irene!

We're at the point in the summer when we make a mad dash to attempt to squeeze in all the adventures and escapades possible to reflect upon during Albany's long(ish) winter. Zoom Flume has been on our to-do list ever since I cut that $5 from the Times Union months ago.  The fact that I could put my hands on said coupon is a reflection of my mad organizational skills - and the fact that 20 bucks is 20 bucks and I wasn't tossing that away recklessly.  Speaking of reckless...

See that shadow of a boy in the Mighty Anaconda?  That's my Quinn, who decided yesterday to brave all the attractions I would permit, despite his newly acquired, rather crude, swimming skills.  Damn him and his excessive height (48" at age 6!) because now he can basically partake in any of the attractions other than one which specifies swimming ability as a requirement.  I must admit, his big brothers were awesome lifeguards for him, remaining in the water to shepard Quinn out as necessary.  Good job, guys!

Zoom Flume is less than an hour south of Albany and a perfect place to give your kids a little length in their leash.  It's small with maybe 10 or 12 water rides and/or play areas.  I may get one more season of all three boys being entertained with what's offered here - beyond that, I think we'll be aging out.  It's one of those old school, Irish Alps kind of places.  They're really chill about allowing you to bring in picnic items and the folks who work there are pretty pleasant.  Unlike last year when we visited Great Escape, at about the same point in the summer, ZF is fully staffed with all attractions open.  The lines were really short, parking was convenient (and free) and we left there feeling as if we got good value for $20 per person. 

Is it fancy?  Nope.  Is it well maintained and clean?  Yep.  New for 2011 was the Riptide Cove Wave Pool, a smallish wave pool that the boys found to be a little "lame" after days spent swimming off Chappaquiddick earlier this month.  If you're lucky enough to have less blase' children than I do, I'm sure they'd find it to be enjoyable.  The best part of that particular attraction for me, was the available chaise lounge where I was comfortable enough with the safety of the pool to grab a quick nap. 

The ZF season runs until 9/5 so there's still time to get there, assuming we all survive Irene.  Better go prepare for Mother Nature's next temper tantrum by filling up the bathtub with water.  And bubbles!

From one bossypants to another...

image from Barnes and Noble

Since finally finishing Jonathan Franzen's Freedom I have regained my own personal freedom in selecting reading material.  For the record, I will never again read another of Franzen's self-indulgent, over-sized volumes about some of the least likable people in the universe.  Screw you, Pulitzer and National Book Award conferrers - the appeal of his stories simply escapes me.

image from Barnes and Noble

There have been a couple of things, however, which I read this summer and thoroughly enjoyed.  The first was Sarah's Key, written by Tatiana de Rosnay.  This fictional work about the roundup of Jews in France during World War II was near impossible for me to put down.  I've always had an interest in Holocaust literature and have read many books about this topic (one of my favorites is the Book Thief by Marcus Zusak), however, I was completely unfamiliar with this dark part of French history.  A movie starring Kristin Scott Thomas has just been released and I sincerely hope the filmmakers did this great little book justice. 

image from Barnes and Noble

I must admit, I feel a connection to Tina Fey.  Like me, she wears smart girl glasses and her character on 30 Rock, Liz Lemon, has an old school card catalog in her home.  For sheer fun, I can't recommend Tina Fey's book, Bossypants,  enough.  She is one hilarious lady and her voice carries consistently throughout this book as she shares her personal and professional lives with the reader.  I can't remember the last time I literally laughed out loud when reading a book, but this autobiography cracked me up.  If only Bossypants was the same length as Freedom my summer reading would have been much more balanced between enjoyable and an endurance contest.

What was on your summer reading list?  Winners?  Losers?

Warrior Dash

Myself and James - Laker Warriors!

Left big toe...right shin...heel of my left hand...Oh!  Sorry, I was a bit distracted performing an inventory of the minor injuries and bruises I racked up earlier today down at Windham Mountain.  Yes, I did the Warrior Dash, which, as you know, makes me a Warrior.  And I have the horns to prove it!

How was it?  Well organized, very pleasantly populated and a blast, pretty much sums it up for me.  Along with genuinely challenging, of course, in terms of the hills involved - both up and down.  The up part was just brutal!  I wore my crappy sneakers, a pair of Nikes that earned the "crappy" dubbing because they became too small somehow.  Ok, I realize it probably means something changed with my feet and it's not the fault of the shoes, but, still, I knew today was their last day with me.  I guess they wanted a proper, lingering goodbye and I imagine my toes are going to continue to be a bit uncomfortable for a couple of days from their overly zealous death grip hug farewell.  I tossed them on the donation pile when I was finished and I wish the best of luck to the person who receives them after they've been cleaned up.

Dash?  More like a shuffle at times

Anyway - back to the endless up...Between the density of the participants and the steepness of the hill, running was not really an option.  Getting to the top of the course took a lot out of me and at one point I was concerned about what I would have left for the obstacles.  Fortunately, my training as a mother to three boys regime left me with enough gas in the tank to plow through the obstacles.  They really weren't nearly as difficult as I imagined they would be.  In fact, I surprisingly enough, found myself in a position were I was forced to patiently wait my chance to attack an obstacle because of the pace of some of the folks ahead of me.  

The downhill bits had their own peril. Despite the rains having held off for us (thanks, Universe!), the grass was mostly sodden.  Combining the pitch of the hill, the muddy grass and my saturated sneakers, created the perfect storm of potential for injuries.  The trails that that wound through the more wooded areas were a combination of loose rocks and tree roots - definitely terrain to keep an eye out for to avoid an ankle twist or knee scrapping.  

The last of the obstacles came in rapid succession and I was kind of sad to see the finish line.  What a blast!  If you've ever seen an obstacle course and wondered what it must feel like to propel your body through it, I suggest you consider this event next year.  I know folks complain that it is pricey (less than $50 if you register early), but the price includes a good quality beer, horns and a t-shirt.  Plus, you really can't put a price on an opportunity to hang with best friends and behave like the children you were when you first met so many years ago.  And, to the poor fellow behind (ha!) me clambering over the logs in the muddy water - sorry about mooning you when my pants slipped off my ass.  Bet you didn't figure that into the price of admission!

Pattern of the week

I do believe Ken has had some spare time this week.  Must be because he isn't pitching by helping to take care of my plants/flowers now that I'm home again.  This week's pattern is one that requires great self-control.  I mean, it must be hard to leave those alternating rows of grass long in a world that measures yard work prowess by even handed preciseness.  Here in the DelSo, though, we do things are own way and are not afraid to be a little different.  And on that note...

Do you see the pattern?  In the spots where Ken made the turns it kind of looks like the letter "L" to me, but perhaps I am projecting.  Regardless, come home soon, Lori. I think Ken is getting bored without you.

The Sun Also Rises - Vineyard Haven, August 2011

Sunsets

Lieutenant's Island, Wellfleet

Lieutenant's Island, Wellfleet

 

Lieutenant's Island, Wellfleet - G and me

Vineyard Haven, Martha's Vineyard

My boys and me

Vineyard Haven, Martha's Vineyard

Vineyard Haven, Martha's Vineyard

Sand in the vaseline - whatever that means

And in the sheets.  And on the floor.  And in my car.  After a week's vacation at the beach, I'm unsure if the pervasive sand is bothering me more, or less. Trying to sleep with random grains of sand in my bed is only slightly less difficult than preventing 4 boys from getting sand in my bed to begin with.  Pshaw, Princess and the Pea.  Sand is way more annoying than any benign green vegetable.  My wagon is filthy.  I have become so disturbed by the external dirt on my car that the interior's imitation of an explosion in a sand-filled minute timer factory doesn't phase me any more.  And speaking of time...

These two weeks at the beach are something I look forward to every year. Some folks define summer by track season in Saratoga or Jazz Fest, but, for me, it is the two weeks spent in Massachusetts in late July, that mean summer. I sometimes reflect on how blessed my family is to enjoy the travel opportunities that we do.  There is something intensely satisfying to me when I hear my children make reference to a place we have visited.  Just today Liam reminded Quinn that the last carousel ride he took was in Florence.  How cool is that?  I recall a total of two vacations from when I was a child, both camping trips taken with family friends, certainly not weeks spent seaside or going anywhere a passport is required. 

I can remember the precise moment when I decided that my eventual family would travel.  I was a Mother's helper in the early 80's for a family in my hometown.  During a particular summer, we spent a long weekend in the Hamptons at the home of a business associate of the husband's and I was incredibly impressed by the lifestyle the homeowners enjoyed.  The house was beautiful, lots of glass, a saltwater swimming pool, grass made green through the painstaking application of pesticides and attention.  In the living room area there was a series of shelves that were filled with photo albums, each meticulously labeled: "France, 1979," "London, 1980," " "Newport, 1981." Wow.  More than the house or the pool, I wanted THAT.

So, the boys go places, see new things, revisit familiar spots away from home and retain memories and experiences which will forever change them.  And if one of the related expenses is the need for good car washing and a few night's of less than ideal sleep due to grains of sand in my bed, so be it.  If I can consider each of those individual particles of sand a potential memory, being inundated by sand doesn't seem so bad at all.  

Table for 5 (or why dinner as a family can be continued despite impending divorce)

I believe most people get married believing it is forever, not for ever. Introducing children to a relationship adds some additional concrete to the mix and, when all is said and done within the marriage and it is time to move on from being a couple, the presence of children continues to cement the two of you together for the imaginable future. Obvious, right? Nothing ground-breaking, just classic, common sense.

Although it is evident that every marriage has its own unique set of circumstances, it seems that divorces meet a few consistent themes. Usually they involve a quality of life diminishment, damage to the children, complicated visitation and financial arrangements, a complete re-writing of the holidays and traditions...

Positive impacts of divorce, and there is the potential for there to be some, aren't spoken about in anything above a whisper. Things like more focused parenting, increased time for personal interests and pursuits, less conflict, opportunities to rewrite holidays and traditions...

Every family has meaningful rites, whether it is the appreciative phrase one says as they arrive safely at home, or a special song played during a particular annual car trip. Things that have significance. I think most of these rituals are priceless, yet cost nothing. Why wouldn't a family want to continue these traditions? With some sensitivity and humor, I think it can (and should) happen - everyone benefits.

So, we gathered together as a family of five for a few days at the beach and everyone survived, I mean thrived. Picnic lunches were shared, our natural rhythm of tag team parenting easily fell back into place, and we went to our family's beach joint for a meal, where we sat together as a party of five. Instead of the boys recalling this as the summer their parents split, maybe they'll remember making some more family beach memories with Mom and Dad. And we'll all try to remain cognizant that a table for five is a privilege, not a punishment.

Thompson's Lake

Holy hot, huh?  I know I've mentioned before that for some unknown reason (general contentment, perhaps?) the heat isn't really bothering me this summer.  Actually, I've kind of enjoyed it.  That being said, getting out of Albany and into the hill towns holds a certain appeal on a 90+ degree day and a recent trek to Thompson's Lake made everyone happy.

The drive from the DelSo up to Thacher Park takes about 25 minutes, significantly longer than that if you're riding your bicycle as the boys' dad enjoys doing.  Pretty impressive, honestly.  

Thompson's Lake is a State Park which offers all sorts of amenities such as rowboat rentals, playground equipment, volleyball courts and picnic and camping sites.  And, of course, a sandy beach.  If you're so inclined, overnight camping will set you back $24.  For us, though, it was an afternoon escape and that comes at the bargain price of $7 a carload. 

For a sunny Sunday afternoon, this place was not incredibly crowded.  We were able to park directly across from the bathrooms (Score - real bathrooms!) and had no trouble finding a spot on the beach that even offered a bit of shade.  The water was comfortable, the lake mostly free of weeds and most important, there was a lifeguard on duty.  This summer, I very much feel as if we've turned a corner in maturity and swimming competence.  I actually brought a book and even got through a few pages before dozing off for a power nap. 

Aside from being a perfect beach for those with small children, I imagine this spot would be a lot of fun for a group of more grown-up folks to gather.  The mere drive would be scenic any season of the year and worth your time.  So, if you're looking for a place to cool off during this genuine summer we're experiencing, give this place a shot.  And, for you hardcore cyclists, a dip here might be the perfect way to break up your ride.

Spicy sesame noodles

my parking strip herb garden

Are you growing any herbs this year?  I was on my game early and was able to get some good stuff before everything other than basil and parsley disappeared from the nearby nurseries.  I finally got around to tearing up the parking strip in front of my house and put in a couple of types of lavender, sage (thanks, Wayniac!) and rosemary and they all seem very happy.  On my deck I've got a mess of basil, flat leaf parsley and Thai basil - all doing beautifully in this heat and rain we've been getting here in Albany.  The glut of Thai basil prompted me to seek out a recipe for last week's Independence day festivities, and judging by the compliments I received (and the ease of preparation), I think I came up with a winner...  I present to you (from Epicurious) Spicy Sesame Noodles with Chopped Peanuts and Thai Basil:

so good

The recipe did require a quick trip to the Asian Market.  I went to the one on Colvin Blvd and I must say, it looked like they cleaned the place up a bit - the fish smell wasn't quite as strong as it has been in the past, and things were generally well organized.  I was able to pick up my noodles, peanut oil, ginger, green onions and peanuts there, along with a very tasty $.99 pineapple. The prep was wicked simple and, although I didn't really measure anything, I used a moderate hand with the sambal (in place of the chili oil) and came up with a pretty ideal creeper kind of spiciness.  The noodles definitely absorb the flavors, so make this early in the day to give the ingredients a chance to make friends.  Delicious and refreshing, along with cheap, fast and easy.  It really doesn't get much better.

When you live next door to artists...

My original Ragsdale

About 2 years ago, our next door neighbors put their house on the market.  During the brief time the house was for sale, I sometimes imagined who the new perfect neighbors might be.   The sellers were a nice enough couple with three children, but we certainly didn't have much in common with them.  I decided the ideal new neighbors would be a gay couple - kind of artsy, perhaps more accustomed to traveling and eating and drinking than the current owners.  A bit more fun, for lack of a better word.

When I learned the house had been sold to a couple, I was a tad disappointed, picturing more of the same traditional and conservative behaviors I had witnessed for the preceding dozen years or so.  But, then I heard the new neighbors were artists.  Now, you're talking my language!  Welcome to the neighborhood, new friends.

Having Ken and Lori next door has been awesome.  They are social and friendly and thoughtful and completely eclipse the previous folks in terms of neighborliness.  We share a milk box and bottles of wine, and Ken has been generously mowing my lawn this season.  Of, course, he can't simply mow in an up and down fashion because, like I said, he's an artist.  He has taken it upon himself to mow in an artistic fashion.  This week's design was a challenge from me which Ken executed beautifully.  Check it out - herringbone!

Don't you wish you lived in the DelSo, too?  Stay tuned for more images in this summer series...