....The only thing missing were some of the men.
Really: good food, easy parking (read: free and close by), fun and relaxed evening.
Can't wait til next time!
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Monday, July 29, 2013
That Time Of Year
I am afraid. Very afraid.
I am not sure what will happen in the next few hours, but Sister is in from Michigan, which means the annual Siblings Dinner Out. In the past it has taken us hours to decide on a time and a place, and many fiascoes have ensued once said time and place was finally established (not the least of which was no one hungry since we did nothing until 9!).
Somehow, we managed to come up with both a time and place, as well as a consensus in about 5 minutes. I don't know how, I don't why.
Stay tuned.....
I am not sure what will happen in the next few hours, but Sister is in from Michigan, which means the annual Siblings Dinner Out. In the past it has taken us hours to decide on a time and a place, and many fiascoes have ensued once said time and place was finally established (not the least of which was no one hungry since we did nothing until 9!).
Somehow, we managed to come up with both a time and place, as well as a consensus in about 5 minutes. I don't know how, I don't why.
Stay tuned.....
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
After the Fast
So another Tisha B'av has come and gone. I will do what I can to work on my ahavas yisrael. I know I have a long way to go, but I will try.
After a day when I watched video after video of the holocaust, I am left with a thought that is certainly not original. Those who hate us really don't care what color our shirts are, how long are peyos are, what kind of yarmulke we wear, what kind of hat, if we wear a hat, if we wear a long wig or no wig.
So to those who feel the need to put religious meaning into the outer trappings of clothing, for those who are a step below and just need to "identify themselves within the camp," stop. Wear what you want, serve G-d the way you feel is best for you, but don't hate others for their way. I am talking to myself as much as to anyone else.
It's not easy, but if those who will round us up can see past our differences, maybe we should try that too.
After a day when I watched video after video of the holocaust, I am left with a thought that is certainly not original. Those who hate us really don't care what color our shirts are, how long are peyos are, what kind of yarmulke we wear, what kind of hat, if we wear a hat, if we wear a long wig or no wig.
So to those who feel the need to put religious meaning into the outer trappings of clothing, for those who are a step below and just need to "identify themselves within the camp," stop. Wear what you want, serve G-d the way you feel is best for you, but don't hate others for their way. I am talking to myself as much as to anyone else.
It's not easy, but if those who will round us up can see past our differences, maybe we should try that too.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Hot Hazy Sunday
The hardest Sunday to find something to do is the Sunday of the Nine Days. Usually a park is on the agenda, and this year was no different. We went to a nice county park in Haverstraw.
The difference this year was the heat. It was actually not just the adults who couldn't take it, but the kids had enough very quickly. Well, not all the kids. The little man was none too pleased to leave, since he was not yet finished watching the boats. Once well ensconced in the car we appeased him with a drive past the marina. All uneventful, until we drove a few hundred feet past the marina, and we saw the devastation from Hurricane Sandy.
These homes were either completely destroyed in the front, boarded up, or very obviously redone. They were all about 20 feet across from the Hudson River. I guess the 14 foot surge did not only affect the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel.
Earlier, while at the park, we walked to where there used to be a bridge, but it had been destroyed in the Hurricane, so as we drove past the marina and the destroyed/rebuilt houses we came upon another park with an obviously rebuilt bridge. Our plans would not be thwarted. We parked, got out of the car, and were approached by a park employee who asked if we were residents of that Town. We told him no, and he explained that it was for residents only, we should go to the other park (where we had just been). So we explained about the bridge, and the little boy, and could we just stay for 5 minutes. He was amenable to that, and up we trudged the smell of fresh wood and river water permeating our senses.
It was so hot we opted for a stop at Carvel, the kids insisted on eating it across the street at a little sitting area with a fountain. Again, even with the ice cream the heat got the better of them, and as soon as messy little man finished his cone, we climbed back in the car.
The kids were happy to play inside, we used our little disposable grill we picked up on visiting day. The kids first roasted marshmallows on the flames and then when the coals were ready we had salmon kebobs, grilled mozzarella balls, grilled mushrooms and peppers (the kids had cheesy fries). Then for good measure we stuck an apple on there. (not nearly as good as peaches/nectarines). It was all quite tasty.
A quick water fight between the kids, and soaking and sun drenched they showered (hokey pokey style) and went to bed.
Not too bad for a do nothing kind of day.
The difference this year was the heat. It was actually not just the adults who couldn't take it, but the kids had enough very quickly. Well, not all the kids. The little man was none too pleased to leave, since he was not yet finished watching the boats. Once well ensconced in the car we appeased him with a drive past the marina. All uneventful, until we drove a few hundred feet past the marina, and we saw the devastation from Hurricane Sandy.
These homes were either completely destroyed in the front, boarded up, or very obviously redone. They were all about 20 feet across from the Hudson River. I guess the 14 foot surge did not only affect the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel.
Earlier, while at the park, we walked to where there used to be a bridge, but it had been destroyed in the Hurricane, so as we drove past the marina and the destroyed/rebuilt houses we came upon another park with an obviously rebuilt bridge. Our plans would not be thwarted. We parked, got out of the car, and were approached by a park employee who asked if we were residents of that Town. We told him no, and he explained that it was for residents only, we should go to the other park (where we had just been). So we explained about the bridge, and the little boy, and could we just stay for 5 minutes. He was amenable to that, and up we trudged the smell of fresh wood and river water permeating our senses.
It was so hot we opted for a stop at Carvel, the kids insisted on eating it across the street at a little sitting area with a fountain. Again, even with the ice cream the heat got the better of them, and as soon as messy little man finished his cone, we climbed back in the car.
The kids were happy to play inside, we used our little disposable grill we picked up on visiting day. The kids first roasted marshmallows on the flames and then when the coals were ready we had salmon kebobs, grilled mozzarella balls, grilled mushrooms and peppers (the kids had cheesy fries). Then for good measure we stuck an apple on there. (not nearly as good as peaches/nectarines). It was all quite tasty.
A quick water fight between the kids, and soaking and sun drenched they showered (hokey pokey style) and went to bed.
Not too bad for a do nothing kind of day.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Who Knew It Was In the DNA
There is no way to start this, the way I want to start it, without sounding like a cranky old lady. So here comes the cranky old lady (C.O.L.):
Even though the arcades today have gotten really really loud, with blaring, and dinging and barking emanating from even idle machines (that was the C.O.L. part) there is usually a spot of sanity tucked in the corner.
With one drop of a quarter or token, the familair ditty begins, the ball release sounds is heard, and nine wooden balls come clunking and rolling down the shoot ready for action.
Yes, that age old game, that apparently still holds sway with the tech age kids, the game that sets a heart a flutter-SKEE BALL!
Last night the almost 10 year old and I went out for some together time. We were going to go play mini-golf, but at the last minute opted for Chuck E. Cheese (we had about 50 tokens left from the last time we went). She told me right away, before we got inside, that she wanted to start with Skee-Ball. Side by side we rolled the balls and watched as they careened a bit, mostly landing in the lower rings, but also planting a few more high value targets. We played and played, until I asked "want to try something else?" So we moved from the Skee-Ball, played the water shooting race a few times (which is rigged to one side, which we know because we switched seats to see), some basketball, NFL quarterback, and MLB strikezone. She turned to me and said "Let's play more Skee-Ball."
Off we went to roll some more, get more tickets in a way that is so much better than those machines that lure you into thinking you will press a button and walk away with anything more than three tickets at any given time. If you are even half decent at Skee- Ball you will get at least three tickets every time, and YOU GOT TO PLAY SKEE-BALL!!!!
It cracked me up how much she liked Skee-Ball. In the past years anywhere we have gone with the kids, MBB is sure to tell them: "If they have Skee-Ball, Mommy is going to have to play it." And I have.Maybe that's why she loves it, I recall my father loving too.
The only thing missing at the new machines in Chuck E Cheese? The familiar tune as the balls came rolling down the chute.
But it's OK, we're making new memories.
Even though the arcades today have gotten really really loud, with blaring, and dinging and barking emanating from even idle machines (that was the C.O.L. part) there is usually a spot of sanity tucked in the corner.
With one drop of a quarter or token, the familair ditty begins, the ball release sounds is heard, and nine wooden balls come clunking and rolling down the shoot ready for action.
Yes, that age old game, that apparently still holds sway with the tech age kids, the game that sets a heart a flutter-SKEE BALL!
Last night the almost 10 year old and I went out for some together time. We were going to go play mini-golf, but at the last minute opted for Chuck E. Cheese (we had about 50 tokens left from the last time we went). She told me right away, before we got inside, that she wanted to start with Skee-Ball. Side by side we rolled the balls and watched as they careened a bit, mostly landing in the lower rings, but also planting a few more high value targets. We played and played, until I asked "want to try something else?" So we moved from the Skee-Ball, played the water shooting race a few times (which is rigged to one side, which we know because we switched seats to see), some basketball, NFL quarterback, and MLB strikezone. She turned to me and said "Let's play more Skee-Ball."
Off we went to roll some more, get more tickets in a way that is so much better than those machines that lure you into thinking you will press a button and walk away with anything more than three tickets at any given time. If you are even half decent at Skee- Ball you will get at least three tickets every time, and YOU GOT TO PLAY SKEE-BALL!!!!
It cracked me up how much she liked Skee-Ball. In the past years anywhere we have gone with the kids, MBB is sure to tell them: "If they have Skee-Ball, Mommy is going to have to play it." And I have.Maybe that's why she loves it, I recall my father loving too.
The only thing missing at the new machines in Chuck E Cheese? The familiar tune as the balls came rolling down the chute.
But it's OK, we're making new memories.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
If It Walks Like A Duck.....
You all know that old idiom. If somethig looks and seems like something, it probably is. Normally I ascribe to that theory.
Except in the 9 Days.
As wonderfully, and tantalizingly beefy the black bean burgers we had the other night looked, they were in fact not beef. Sadly, I forgot to take a picture, and happily, there was none left to use just for photographic purposes.
I should have realized after reading this article about a vegetarian magazine that used non vegetarian pictures to portray the food it was pushing. Just because it looks like meat, and it tries to mimic meat in its composition and presentation (on a bun with the works- for example), does not in fact, render it beef. It just makes you miss it all the more!
I say enjoy the soy, the beans, the fake chicken patties, but call it what it is. Not meat.
And then melt some cheese on it.
Except in the 9 Days.
As wonderfully, and tantalizingly beefy the black bean burgers we had the other night looked, they were in fact not beef. Sadly, I forgot to take a picture, and happily, there was none left to use just for photographic purposes.
I should have realized after reading this article about a vegetarian magazine that used non vegetarian pictures to portray the food it was pushing. Just because it looks like meat, and it tries to mimic meat in its composition and presentation (on a bun with the works- for example), does not in fact, render it beef. It just makes you miss it all the more!
I say enjoy the soy, the beans, the fake chicken patties, but call it what it is. Not meat.
And then melt some cheese on it.
Monday, July 8, 2013
No Comparison
The big news today is Eliot Spitzer's attempt to get his name on the ballot for NYC Comptroller.
The local media is likening his attempt to run as the same as Anthony Weiner, the former congressman who is running for Mayor.
It isn't the same. Weiner used bad judgement, and did stupid things that made people question his character, and probably hurt his marriage somewhat.
Eliot Spitzer BROKE THE LAW, AND USED STATE EMPLOYEES TO HELP HIM FACILITATE HIS CRIMES. He used bad judgement, he showed his questionable character, and HE BROKE THE LAW.
They aren't the same. Not even close. Time for someone to take a bulldozer to that career.
Oh, wait. I thought he did that himself. Apparently, all he has to do is make people think that he and Weiner are similar. They aren't. They should not be mentioned in the same article.
Stupid's not a crime.
The local media is likening his attempt to run as the same as Anthony Weiner, the former congressman who is running for Mayor.
It isn't the same. Weiner used bad judgement, and did stupid things that made people question his character, and probably hurt his marriage somewhat.
Eliot Spitzer BROKE THE LAW, AND USED STATE EMPLOYEES TO HELP HIM FACILITATE HIS CRIMES. He used bad judgement, he showed his questionable character, and HE BROKE THE LAW.
They aren't the same. Not even close. Time for someone to take a bulldozer to that career.
Oh, wait. I thought he did that himself. Apparently, all he has to do is make people think that he and Weiner are similar. They aren't. They should not be mentioned in the same article.
Stupid's not a crime.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)