We had decided to return to the city to check out the museums, so we woke up early to prep for the train ride and a day in Manhattan. We packed light – Batman, a camera, our phones and some cash – and caught the LIRR train from Stony Brook to Penn Station.

The train trip to Manhattan was just under two hours and by the time we arrived, we were pretty hungry. Eager to start exploring, we grabbed a quick bite at a nearby Burger King then walked to Times Square, ducking inside Toys R Us and Swatch before a round of photos of Batman on Broadway.

From there we walked by Radio City Music Hall and through the Rockafeller building en route to the Plaza

After pictures in the Plaza, we ducked back into 30 Rock to grab some coffee and snacks as well as a few postcards which we quickly filled out and mailed in the basement post office.

Then we skipped a couple blocks over to St. Patrick’s Cathedral and caught a train toward the Met.

While walking up the steps of the Met, that feeling of dread arose as what looked like “Closed” signs come into view. Apparently you can visit the museum any day of the week BUT Monday. I guess everyone needs a day off.

Slipping around the side of the Met, we entered Central Park.

With a loose plan of heading to the west side to see the Natural History Museum, we wandered around, finding an obelisk:

and a castle in the process:

Unfortunately, Belvedere Castle is also closed on Mondays.

We passed the theater for Shakespeare in the Park and saw the Natural History Museum then entered the nearby metro station to head down to the Intrepid:

We got hungry after our train ride though, so we stopped at a Turkish place called Troy Turkish Grill on 9th Ave and 40th St for tasty (and gluten-free) falafel and dolmas. Then we went to the park on Pier 84 (which has several fun waterworks) before heading to the Intrepid.

We stopped for a drink at the park’s bar to let Jim’s phone charge

then took the train to see Ground Zero and the replacement building:

From there we wandered toward Wall St.

Before heading back to Penn Station to catch our train back out to Long Island, we hoofed it down to Battery Park to watch the sunset behind the Pier A building and to get at glimpse of the Statue of Liberty.

From there we walked along the Hudson River Greenway to return to the station (with only one other photo stop)

and arrived at Penn Station with plenty of time to catch the 8:45 out to Stony Brook.  Looooooong day with LOTS of walking, but a fun one for both of us.

Happy Birthday to Mom!

We had a nice morning sleeping in after our late night of driving, car repairing and visiting with my brother, Erick, and his wife, Erin.  Once awake, we called to wish our mom a happy birthday, then we got in gear to drive to the city for Sunday brunch.

Originally we planned to eat at Bondi Road on Rivington, but with a 45 minute wait we left Bondi for Poco then decided to eat next door at Cafe Cortadito. The menu options sounded tasty and many appeared to be gluten-free, so we ordered plantain omelettes with shredded beef, Spanish chorizo and ham and started off with blood orange mimosas.

We had a great time catching up with my brother and his wife, and even made friends with the three girls at the table next to us. Talking religion, politics and everything in between (as well as the fact that we suspect the drinks were spiked with something other than champagne) made for an exciting brunch. But after returning from the city, we took it easy enjoying a delicious meal of spicy mushroom veggie burgers, quinoa and mixed greens prepared by my brother. Here’s to having an amateur chef in the family!

After the excitement of Thursday’s parade and fair, we took it easy Friday. Our tires were scheduled to arrive, but we were undecided on whether to set out after their installation or to wait until Saturday morning to leave for New York.

Friday morning we drove the Mini to Kenny’s auto shop in Louisa then walked to the local coffee shop and worked online as we waited for the tires to arrive.  When FedEx finally delivered them, Jim talked with the mechanic and confirmed his evolving suspicion that the tires were tubeless tires and the wheels were sealed. If you recall our adventure in Jacksonville, this news (which meant the tires didn’t need tubes) was both upsetting (as we had wasted several hours in Jacksonville in search of 10″ tubes) and comforting (knowing we wouldn’t have to do it again).

We returned to the house, very pleased with our new tires, but since it was almost 5pm we chose to delay our departure until 8am the next morning.

We woke early Saturday morning, packed our things and said our goodbyes. In the Mini, Jim started the engine and we began pulling out of the (long) driveway ahead of schedule. I waved out the window, saying “Bye! Love you!!”, then the car died.

Jim couldn’t get it going again, so I pushed it back to it’s original parking spot as we apologized and laughed. We got to work on the car, checking everything we could think to check, and finally after several attempts at starting it up she came to life. My uncle Bryan pointed out that it was now 8AM and we joked about the car’s punctuality, uncertain which of the changes we had made (if any) were responsible for the successful start up. After another round of hugs and some uncertain goodbyes, we headed east toward Richmond, then north toward D.C., passing another fair with a neat, roadside rollercoaster on the way.

We skirted around D.C. then headed east toward Annapolis, opting to follow Hwy 301 across the Chesapeake Bay and up along a nice, quite stretch toward Wilmington. There we caught I-95 to Philadelphia and followed it up toward Manhattan, eager to arrive in NYC.

We exited the NJ Turnpike, grabbed some gas and got in line for the toll at the Holland Tunnel. As expected, the traffic was a mess (the road pares down from something like 8-9 lanes to two through the tunnel…

… which is surprisingly simple compared to the train yard just north of the tunnel entrance.)

While in line, we were cut off several times and almost run over by a bus once,

but there were also plenty of people delighted by the Mini and happy to let us in. Once we made it into the tunnel, it took us probably 40-45 minutes to make it the five miles to a friend’s place in Brooklyn. By the time we parked on Havemeyer, we were covered in sweat and the Mini was running hot (but still looked great and took up only half a parking spot).

We met up with my friend, Shawn, then walked to find sushi and give the Mini a rest. After maybe an hour of walking, eating and visiting, we returned to the Mini, said goodbye to Shawn, started the car and made it four or five blocks before we broke down (just after passing Hope St, ironically).

I pushed the car to the curb while Jim steered, then I unpacked the tool bag and oil rag from the boot while he opened the bonnet. We proceeded to run through the checklist as locals stopped to stare at, pose with and photo the Mini with her hood up. Though we were upset at the breakdown, the surrounding neighborhood and its inhabitants made the experience very entertaining. Nevertheless, it took about two or two and a half hours of tinkering and consulting our Mini manual and with Jim’s dad on the phone to get it running again. We thought we would be stuck in the city for the evening, but luckily we got back on the road a little before 9pm, just as it was getting dark.

We hightailed it out to my brother’s place in East Setauket looking forward to a good night’s rest, but in the meanwhile, I started work on a rap song for the circumstances:

Broke down in Brook-lyn
and our dizzy won’t spin.
No spark to the heart
of my Mini Tin Tin.
Two wheels in the gutta
while the starter – sputtas,
missin’ the times
when she ran like butta.

(to be continued… … maybe.)

We woke at the Holly Bluff campgrounds not to the songs of birds chirping but to the cacophony of what sounded like an avian war. The sun was just barely up, so we ignored (as best we could) the racket all around and slept in a bit longer. When we woke again, surrounded by a now-quiet campground, only two other people – both part of the staff – were awake and about. We cleaned up, packed up, then loaded the Mini hoping others campers would begin to stir before we had to fire up our loud engine.

I killed some extra time taking pictures of the grounds including two major attractions, the putt putt course and the church:

However, when the time came to leave and no one else was up, we decided we couldn’t waste any more time. We got in, turned the key: “BRAAAAAAAM bram bram bram brumbrumburmbrum…” and hit the road, probably leaving several grumpily awakened campers in our wake.

We had a great day of driving, made good time and even stopped to capture our crossing into Virginia: Awhile later we arrived safely at my Aunt Milly’s house only to find that after we turned the car off it wouldn’t start again. After Jim got it running again, we took the Mini to the nearest town for a check and tune up. Though they weren’t able to do much in the way of a tune up, they were able to find new tires for us. Unfortunately, it would take several days to order and ship them. In the meantime, we immensely enjoyed our company and all the adventures they and area had to offer:

…including the annual Fireman’s Fair and Parade:

Those who knew about the visit worked hard to keep it a surprise and their work payed off! His mom was completely astounded when Jim and his son walked out from the kitchen, and (don’t tell her I told you this) it was very sweet to watch her cry while hugging her son. Family reunions always get me, right here. =)

We spent Friday night visiting with Jim’s immediate family and grandparents then had another gathering of relatives on Saturday for a pizza party, during which Jim and I got to sneak out for a rumble around town in Jim’s dad’s awesomely restored pickup!

After cruising around, playing with dogs, parrots, horses and children (one of which apparently has a thing for turning keys left in any ignition, including tractors), cooking pizzas, hiking farmland and drinking wine, I’d normally be happy to call it a day, but Jim’s brother, father and mother took us visiting-three to a nearby gun range and encouraged us to try our hand at their collection.  I couldn’t begin to recount all of what we shot, but it was a blast (no pun intended).

Then on Sunday (which happened to be my birthday) we had plans to return to Reno to visit Lake Tahoe, but first started the morning with a little horseback riding

and lots of singing and dancing with the parrots!

After packing up, we headed through Carson City to Reno then drove up to the northeast end of Lake Tahoe where we rented snowshoes.  Jim’s brother, Joe, and his dog, Bandit, led us up to an overlook where we could hand-feed small wild birds. [I didn't bring my camera, but with any luck I'll be able to post photos from other cameras as the picture come in.]

Luckily, we remembered to bring Batman!

We also took time for a quick sled after our hike, then hit a steakhouse for dinner and finished out the night with cribbage lessons for me and Jim’s son at the hands of Jim and Joe.

It was a wonderful, whirlwind of a weekend, but the next morning we arose at four to catch our 6AM flight back to Florida, school, work and heat.  Nonetheless, we’re packed with great memories of some fantastic family time!  My hearty thanks to all the Dibbles – big and small, human or animal – for such a marvelous visit!

She had to fly back to Texas before the rental period ended, so the accordion has stayed here in the house since, and on a few of those days when watching TV and doing laundry isn’t enough to pass the time, I’d pick it up and try to figure it out.

I played “Mary Had A Little Lamb” and “Jingle Bells” and even took a semi-successful crack at “San Antonio Rose” following an afternoon of having Patsy Cline stuck in my head. But, since it has to go back tomorrow, while waiting for Grandpa’s med-time to roll around this evening, I picked it up for one last round and worked out the melody – and some of the bass line chords – of “Oom-Pah-Pah” from Oliver! (with help from this guy).

Thankfully, Grandpa is nearly deaf, so me pumping out notes dug up from memory isn’t as painful for him as it would be for a healthy set of ears. Although I have no idea how or even if you can play the accordion quietly, Grandpa slept right through the whole practice session.

But I didn’t go completely without audience. Batman was there to help iron out the melody.

But a close friend from the hometown (practically an adopted sister) visited this past week, and where she goes adventure is sure to follow. So, since she knows so well how to show Batman and me a good time, I thought I’d share some excerpts from our week:

Here’s a “Before” and “After” of a Black Widow we found on my back door:

I was way too nervous to get close to the Widow and certainly didn’t want to put Batman in peril. (Although – interesting side note – my ex-SO found a stunt double for Batman. I have a feeling the new little guy’ll have plenty of upcoming gigs.) Thanks for killing the Deadly Spider for me, Chica!

Now, onto the park:

Unfortunately, due to his perpetually flexed arms, Batman is cartwheel-challenged.

But, obviously D would make a great sidekick.

She’s got all the moves Tiny Plastic Batman can’t muster.

Plus she talked him into joining us for Ladies’ Night at the local bowling alley:

Unfortunately, none of us are that good at bowling, so we focused on messing around with the camera instead.

The Sepia-toned ones didn’t make the cut, but a some B&W’s ones came out neat.

And though negatives make terrible pictures, we both liked this one.

Due to the traditional low alley lighting, most of Batman’s pics didn’t come out well (the light of a flash tends to bring out his cheap, plastic nature), but that didn’t stop us from taking ten’s of photos of him.  We drew the attention of the management and some neighboring lady bowlers. All in all, a good night for Batman.

Earlier in the week, D joined me on an errand to the Bacchetta office and while we were there, Mike helped her take her first recumbent test ride.  Later, after a couple laps on my power-assisted recumbent with me hanging onto the back rack (parent-style) to help her balance, we figured she was ready for a real ride.

So the morning after bowling, we took off down the bike trail to visit the Bacchetta guys.  (As my Corsa is in California with my dad as he trains for RAAM – it’s his backup bike – I had to borrow a ride from a friend.  This Corsa (the black bike in the back) was provided courtesy of Jim Dibble. Thanks Jim! It’s a great ride!)

Mike was gone, so D didn’t get to show off her progress to him, but Jeremy, John and Mark visited with us and helped me work on convincing her to buy a recumbent and move to Florida. Afterward, to reinforce the brainwashing, we headed to check out the beautiful (not yet oil-soaked) beach:

Batman posed with the local pirate ship, then laid out to catch some rays.

After we had had enough sun, we packed up and were heading back to the car when a dragonfly landed on our beach bag.  Either he really likes green or he was just in desperate need of a lift down the beach. Either way, he stayed with us for quite a while.

Finally, we rounded the trip out with a trip to see Grandpa.

Grandpa certainly enjoyed his kiss goodbye and I enjoyed my wonderful week with this fun, encouraging, vibrant woman.  Now we both look forward to the next time D whirls into town to lift us out of our lives, if only temporarily.

]]> http://www.ifyouwerewondering.com/wordpress/2010/05/resurrection-visited/feed/ 1 http://www.ifyouwerewondering.com/wordpress/2010/03/batman-vs-the-volcano/ http://www.ifyouwerewondering.com/wordpress/2010/03/batman-vs-the-volcano/#comments Mon, 08 Mar 2010 17:42:45 +0000 admin http://www.ifyouwerewondering.com/wordpress/?p=1276 I’ve been meaning to give Batman some more camera time lately and though I still haven’t done a good photoshoot with him recently, at a friend’s party he finally got to pose for the lens. I didn’t have my camera with me, but our host was kind enough to take, layer and edit the fire shot for me and Batman.  Thanks Jim!

————

My Saturday morning in Montreal started out wonderfully with an hour of training Kali at Philip Gelinas’ school.  The class was great! His technique was fluid and powerful, his instruction interesting and clear, and his students kind and talented.  I wish I could have stayed longer. Hopefully I’ll have the chance to train with him again someday. Unfortunately, my friend and I had other plans to see more of Montreal, so we thanked Phil and his students, got cleaned and changed, then went in search of food.

Someone we met earlier in the trip had recommended one restaurant to my friend.  Supposedly it was nearby, but it was only after half an hour of walking around in the below freezing weather that we finally found the restaurant several blocks away from where we thought it’d be. It turned out to be a breakfast place serving lots of pancakes and bread and fruit and syrup; we had hoped for something more substantial, so we asked for recommendations and set out again into the cold.

We repeated this sequence six or seven times and every restaurant we checked out was either closed or a deli-style sandwich shop.  We added an additional 20 city blocks to our first 8-10 on what we had expected to be a 3 block walk and still hadn’t found what we were looking for.

I had only dressed for a quick downtown stroll – leggings, jeans, undershirt, shirt, sweater, wool coat, wool socks, cotton socks, boots, hat, hood and leather gloves (you’d think that’d be enough) – and the cold, having penetrated my clothes, was working it’s way down to my bones.  My friend (who hadn’t even brought his gloves) was feeling a little frosty too. So with our stomachs growling angrily, we broke down and hailed a cab.

We told the driver what we were looking for and he, of course, knew just the place.  When he began to rave about how the restaurant had signed photos of all the famous people who have eaten there, I started to worry.

He dropped us off at the curb just past Schwartz’s Deli (“World Famous Smoked Meat”).  As we were exiting the cab he proudly said we would probably have to wait in line for a table.  Ok, not a prob–  Wait, that line of people piling up OUTSIDE the building? @&*$.

Let’s recap:  a cabbie picks up two people, obviously – visibly - freezing, talking about how cold they are and how much they want a big plate of hot meat, then takes them to a restaurant where he knows they will have to wait outside.  Probably a good intention, just not really thought through.

Moving on:  once inside the teeny restaurant, we shared an elbow-to-elbow table with four people from Toronto (I think) who actually turned out to be really kind and fun to talk to.  The smoked brisket was nice considering we were still thawing out, and though it tasted alright it was a little dry.  They had mustard and steak sauce available at every table because the meat needed it.  Our tablemates asked us excitedly if we liked the meal, and I said it was good but, unfortunately, I’m a terrible liar.  My friend apologized for me though: “She’s from Texas and I forget that it’s hard to impress her when it comes to beef.”

And that got me dreaming about Lockhart brisket and Elgin sausage. About the tender barbecue brisket of Kreuz Market (“No Sauce, No Forks”). About how the restaurant compromises and offers a seasoning salt (delicious enough to eat on it’s own) meant for those who have never tasted perfect brisket and are in the habit of blindly putting something on their beef before sampling it.  Thankfully, new Kreuz customers usually show up with a friend or family member who’s a returning customer; someone who invariably acts as a guide and who has to remind the newcomers how each person must inevitably wrestle with their own decision of whether to mix the independently perfect tastes of meat and seasoning or eat them separately.  How most of us have to try a little of both.

But back to Montreal and Schwartz’s.  Uh, the fries were excellent.  And the dill pickles were good.  Tasty ketchup, too.

After being shuffled out to make room for those literally standing out in the cold, we realized we weren’t far from the hotel and decided to make the walk back, having warmed up a bit from the body heat of those who had been sitting within inches of us.  The walk, though chilly, proved worth it because we happened upon this:

an amazingly complex, detailed graffiti mural of “Aliens” aliens (and maybe some others mixed in for variety. I’m nerdy, but not that much of a Sci-Fi movie buff. All apologies.) Here’s a closeup:

Beautiful, no?  (And gruesome. I know, I know.)

Naturally, we had to stop to take pictures of Batman:

Ahem. Of BATMAN.

Thank you.

After returning to the hotel, spent most of the rest of the night inside, except for an excursion for Tequila which ended up necessitating 3 cab rides.  Apparently liquor stores close sometime around 5pm or 6pm on Saturday afternoons.  That is not a typo. (Oh Quebec, how I’ve come to loathe you.)

After that, it was an early night.  Thanks to my first stint on Priceline, my flight left at 6:35am, so I was up by 3:30am to be at the airport 2ish hours in advance.  With the low volume of passengers travelling at those pre-dawn hours it would have been plenty of time, however the airport had everyone waiting in a series of six lines.  One line to get bag tags (suddenly carryons aren’t allowed – only one personal item), one line to have your carryons sent downstairs, one line for preliminary ID and boarding pass screening, one line for regular security (metal detector, xray the bags, random screening, etc.), one line for customs (which actually turned out nicely as we didn’t have to deal with it after landing in the States), and another line for more security (full pat-downs and thorough searches of personal items for everyone! yay!).

If you count the lines you had to stand in at security and customs after standing in the big line, it’s actually eight lines total.

Montreal, we need to talk.