Category: Life

  • The Year End Marathon

    I can’t believe that Halloween is next week. We have all of our costumes ready to go, as this will be our first year of doing a family theme. We sort of tried that a few years ago when the kid went as Dee Snider from Twisted Sister. The kid had a teased-out blond wig, make up, and spandex – she looked awesome. The wife and I went as “roadies” but to be honest, we just looked like our normal selves, so it wasn’t the theme we were going for. This year, we are all locked in with clear characters, so there won’t be any mistaking, and I won’t tell you what it is. I don’t want to ruin the surprise.

    I don’t know if this is the same for you, but in our house, once we hit Halloween, the marathon to the end of the year starts. Halloween leads to Thanksgiving, which leads to Christmas, then New Years. Four big holidays in a row, with the kid being off from school, and shopping, cooking, and family traditions, so when we get to January, we just want to recover.

    I’m not complaining about it. This is the time of year when we have fun together, and as the kid gets older, the holidays take on a new meaning, not only to her, but us as well. One thing that will be different for this year is that the kid wants to cook a dish for Thanksgiving – like have one dish that is her responsibility for her to prepare. She wants to be actively a part of the meal, and not just passively eat. Though, if I could go back to passively eating and drinking on Thanksgiving, I bet I would have an even better time.

    Because everything changes and nothing stays the same. What worked last year might not work this year. And that’s okay. Just taking each year as it comes.

  • ODDS and ENDS: The Rain, Making Breakfast, Coffee, and Tottenham

    (Don’t go breakin’ my heart…)

    I don’t know how things are where you live, but up here in New York, I think we are in the sixth weekend where it rains, especially on Saturdays. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s nice to have a cold rain Saturday in Fall, where you can curl up on the couch, read a book, watch a movie, take a nap – you know, do cozy stuff. After six weeks of rainy weekends, I would like to see the sun and go outside and not get wet. In the Summer, sometimes we get in a pattern of five days of sun, then one rainy day, followed five or six days of sun, and the cycle repeats. But rain every weekend feels a bit like a punishment. “Tough week? Working for the weekend?” “Tough shit! You’re Stuck Inside!” On the spectrum of disappointments, six weeks of rainy weekends isn’t that bad. Yet I do wonder if this is some kind of record.

    I know that I am not like most people, and I do have time in the morning. When I was working an office job, mornings were nothing but a rush, and not very pleasant. So now, with the extra time, I have started to try and treat the mornings as a calm start to the day, which includes a breakfast. Not a fruit bar, or frozen waffle, but a meal. Though it is a small meal, it is still a meal. I have noticed a few things after having done this for a month now. First, mornings are calmer for all of us now. Not as frantic, though some mornings getting the kid out the door can be a challenge. Second, with eating breakfast, I find that I don’t snack throughout the day. No mindless eating while working on things. The third thing I noticed about myself is that I feel like I have accomplished something. A while ago, I read that you should make your bed every morning because it will make you feel that you have order at the start of your day, and also that you have accomplished at least one task in your day. Yeah… I never felt like that when I made my bed. But, I do have that feeling after having eaten and fed my family. Just saying…

    I need another cup of coffee.

    Tottenham plays on Monday, which is annoying.

  • The Pumpkin Blaze

    There is an annual Autumn/Halloween event that my family takes part in, which is The Great Jack O’Lantern Blaze at Croton-on-Hudson. My wife was the one who found out about it, and when my parents came to visit back in 2017, she got tickets for all of us. It was perfect for everyone, as we were new parents with a one year old, and the pumpkins were just flashing lights to our daughter, and that captivated her attention. And for my folks, it was just enough walking, and also something rather unique that they didn’t have in Texas. After walking through the Blaze, we drove down to Tarrytown for dinner, and then showed my parents the real Sleepy Hollow, along with the bridge and the Old Dutch Church of Headless Horseman fame. Since then, we try to make it out to The Blaze every year.

    This year was no different. Got tickets, and made plans with another family to all go together. Like most years, things happened and we left late. Traffic was awful getting out of the city. We were all late getting to the restaurant, and had to eat quickly. Luckily, the kids were all in a good mood – no melt downs.

    And it was worth it. The kid is getting old enough now that none of the jack o’lantens are scary to her, and even some of the joke carved pumpkins she gets and finds funny. There is still enough innocent excitement with her there that makes the experience special, and also transforms Halloween into more than one night of fun, but a season of events. (We apple pick, and visit a pumpkin patch as part of our Halloween traditions as well.)

    For me, I enjoy this night of being close to Sleepy Hollow, and the historic location where The Blaze takes place. Something about driving home through the woods of Westchester county, knowing that somewhere out there the Horseman is supposed to ride, and like clockwork every year, the kid asks from the backseat if Ichabod was a real person who escaped from that ghost. And then there is the connection of The Blaze being an event my mom was able to do with my family. We only got three years with her, to do grandma things, and let her shower her youngest granddaughter with attention. The kid has virtually no memories left with her Mim, but I have this one. And though my daughter doesn’t remember doing it, she was one after all, but she knows that it happened. We just continue on the tradition.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Blame the Mother, Khaki Pants, and Things I was Wrong About

    (Sugar Ray say…)

    Last night I was having drinks with a friend, and old friend from high school, so we have known each other forever. We got on the topic of parental roles, as she feels that as a mother, she inevitably always gets blamed by her kid for everything. (Our kids are pretty close in age.) I don’t think she’s wrong, mom’s do take the brunt of blame, at least that’s what my mom claimed all the time. But, I wondered if one’s parental role plays a factor? My friend and her husband both work, and split equally parenting their kid; both cook, clean, do laundry, do homework, go to playdates, and dance classes…etc. While in our household, my wife works, and I take care of the kid and home. So, I feel like I take the brunt of blame from the kid, which I attribute to spending the most time being with the kid on a given day. As such, our discussion fell along those lines; is parental blame due to gender roles, or quantity of time spent with the kid? I don’t think there is a clear answer to this other than when our kids do something right, the first person they thank is always mom.

    I have to buy khaki pants soon. The pants have seen better days, as I purchased them right before Covid. (Because Covid is a designation of time, and not just an event.) I used to never own khaki pants. Like, went out of my way not to own any. I think it was due to those stupid GAP swing dancing commercials in the 90’s. (I wonder how many of those people in that commercial are now teaching dance classes?) Then I job a job, and I started wearing a tie, and a sports coat, and I got khaki pants to go along with the whole thing. Now, I have the same number of khaki pants as I do jeans. Funny how life changes you.

    Speaking of which…

    I can admit now that I was wrong about a couple of things:

    1. Sugar Ray
    2. The Texas Rangers this Season
    3. Jasper Johns

  • Distracted and Memories

    Sometimes I get ahead on my blog writing, and can put a couple of posts “in the can” and schedule them to go up on my site later in the week. Most of the time, I write a blog post on the fly. An idea will come into my head in the morning, and when I get a minute later in the day, I hammer it out and put it up. This might be obvious to most of you due to the amount of type-o’s and awful uses of grammar.

    Today, I lacked an idea in the morning, and went through the normal routine of trying to come up with something. I read the news, checked out social media, and talked to the wife, but nothing was sticking. My last-ditch effort was to go on Wikipedia and see if something was there.

    Did you know that on this day, the US Department of Justice acquired the military prison on Alcatraz Island, which would become Alcatraz Prison? Then I started reading about the failed escape attempt from Alcatraz. You know, the one Escape from Alcatraz was based off of.

    And it all reminded me of taking the ferry from Larkspur to San Francisco, which runs by Angel Island, Alcatraz and Treasure Island. I mean, the ferry doesn’t get that close to Alcatraz, but close enough to know what it is, and see the prison buildings.

    It was a great ferry trip on the water, and I made the trip four times, once at night, which was pretty amazing; The lights of San Francisco, and the whole Bay area; The stars, and the sound of the waves. I will probably never ride the Larkspur ferry again, though it is there in my memory as one of the happier moments in my life, while also being one of the worst years of my life.

    It had only been six months since my mother’s passing, and I was in the Bay area trying to live my life, even though there was this huge hole in my soul that just left me feeling sad all the time. But I kept trying to push forward, to keep living and experiencing life. And I knew while it was happening, being on that ferry and watching/feeling the fog begin to roll in, that this was something unique; a moment worth experiencing; Seeing and doing something new. And it was special. But tinged with the melancholy of knowing that I was doing it all alone.