The Prize Winnah

We're having a great tomato crop this year. One of the best ever. But every year, amidst all that succulence and ripeness and juiciness, there's always a prizewinner . . .

This year it was tucked deep within the plants . . .

. . . which was no problemo for our own Mistah Schleckah . . .

. . . see?

Oh, what a gorgeous prize winnah.

 Espectacular.

On Jennie's birthday, I sliced it right up . . .

. . . slicey love.

Oh dear.

And we presented it upon a lovely platter, with Jennie's pesto . . .

. . . and some kick-ass olive oil.

Oh, how I love to work the food in the kitchen with my peeps.

And the result?

Prize Winnah Summer Sunshine Buckets of Love.

back to the beach

This summer is a whirlwind of epic proportions! We're away again this week, poor us! In honor of our most glorious destination, I thought I'd regurgitate a little love from the same trip a few summers ago. The kids were so cuuuuuuuuute! It will be fun to compare photos:

Thursday, September 3, 2009

san elijo

We went camping last weekend, and it was so good. Good friends, good weather, good location, good food, good drinks, good waves, good work outs, good times.

It's hard to recap all this opulent goodness, and so hard to select representative photos, even though the photos that I did take are pretty much crap because I was generally too drunk busy having fun! and there was so much stuff to be carried everywhere, always, and I kept forgetting things and then there would be 103 stairs between me and my camera.

But share I shall, because that's how we roll here at Me and You and Ellie!

To begin, there's the series I like to call:
"let me get a shot of you on that ladder! but try to look like a giant dork, okay?"

Up there in the right hand corner? The only photo taken of me the entire long weekend. Bastids. But check it out - that was the view from our campsite up on the bluffs. Sigh.

Next, let's enjoy friends and sunsets, shall we?

Those sunsets were delicious. And the ocean? 70 degrees.

There were dogs. And bodysurfing, and more sunsets.
The kids spent more time in the ocean than out.

We ate and drank a lot.

Alot of meat. And alot of booze. We were very thirsty.

On the last day, friends came to visit!

We ate and drank with them, just to be different.

Did you think I was kidding about the 103 stairs?

This was our avenue to and from the beach. In the early mornings, those stairs were chock full of fit people doing crazy-ass things like push ups on each landing followed by sprints to the next one. Those Are Painful. We worked out well though, running along the surf each morning and then knocking out a few idiocies on the stairs. We owned those damned stairs. And it was positively liberating to 'run up and grab' this or that from camp, an anecdote to the relentless eating and drinking and sitting upon asses.

The sleeping was our only bane, we never did get it quite right* between the dogs and the kids and the tents and the thick, cooling marine layer. But everyone kept a good attitude about it, knowing that once we were home in our nice comfy beds, we'd sleep well but we'd miss San Elijo.

*some people did get it right

My man Ben

Gotta love the Del Mar Racetrack, where the turf meets the surf. It's a San Diego summer tradition, which just keeps getting better. Although I love betting on the ponies, my favorite thing about the Del Mar racing season is the concert series. It just keeps getting better. This year's lineup is phenomenal. Case in point, Saturday night I was able to go see one of my very favorite artists, ever, Ben Harper. All for the racetrack admission price of $6.(Making Ben's tune, "Rock n Roll is Free (if you want it)" ring oh so true.)

I went with my friend Lynn, who is awesome, and who brought binoculars -- now that was a treat.

Ben rocked the house, as per usual. He is a truly amazing guitarist, and oh so easy on the eyes.

He also has a wee little Parnie gap (although I doubt that he refers to it as such....), which is very endearing.

See it there??

See you next summer, Ben. We'll miss you...

Downloads

I was looking for something I'd downloaded from my email recently, and I was struck by the quantity, diversity, and sheer wackiness of all the other stuff I found there, from just a month or two . . .

 . . . and who am I not to share??

Mistah and Me, Westy West East

Mistah and Me, Hygienic Art Style . . .

. . . and Hygienic Art, backside-style.

Contrary to what Chris might say, NOT the Gold Medal.

My new BFF, Little Ms. C.

Seriously, this kid is the bomb.com

I need her to come back to me.

Oh, this is a favorite. Mistah, Ledgie, and Me. Hobnobbing.

Mom's new bedroom look, pre-portraits.

Ledgie!

Our illustrious City-on-the-River.

I have no idea. Who are these people and what are they doing in my downloads?

Ditto. Random.

My cousins! Who came to visit! And we were *not* home! 
So visited Ledgie instead. 

Me and Dad. The early days of my life. Like, really early.

The fabulous Hygienic Art Building, festooned in October pink.

Oh Anza-Borrego. Will we ever see you again??

*Sigh*

A niece's long-ago Birthday . . . 

Another niece's not-so-long-ago college graduation . . . 

. . . a friend's new-ish Living Room . . . 

. . . and a sister's last night's birthday dinner.

And my favorite of all?

The Birthday Girl Herself, at her Birthday Dinner, 
on the phone with me.
Happy Birthday Julie!

finding our way in the city

When we knew that our east coast adventure would include several hours of free time New York City,  I looked around (google) for something new and interesting. We’d done big buildings, the circle line, the park and the theatre in recent years. While there’s certainly no end to the possibilities for fun in the greatest city in the world, my kids are at a sort of in-betweeny age, and many of the ideas I toyed with were judged with silent yet fervent eye rolls.  

I suggested that we look into a hop on/hop off bus like the one mom and I had so enjoyed in Rome. I explained that it’s a great way to get an overall view of a city, with a guide or program to point out areas of interest.  I talked about seeing the 9/11 memorial, broadway, Chinatown, the village, SoHo, etc in one fell swoop… and they both piqued at the mention of Chinatown. So we decided to do a bus tour and hop off for lunch in Chinatown, then hop back on to continue the ride.  We didn’t make any reservations or definite plans, it would be our first day back east and we figured that we’d sort it out as we went after having a whole night to scheme with our lovely and illustrious host MB.  

We schemed, we yakked, we caught up, we had a few refreshing beverages. Eventually we gathered up some maps and went night night, determined to talk before setting out in the morning once Mar was at work with her computer and I was fully conscious with my brain. 

We woke to rain in the city, and a crazy ominous weather forecast that included tornadoes and floods and probably locusts. I thought: “huh.”  Then I picked up my book and had some coffee and deeply enjoyed the slow, quiet morning. Around noon the sun burst forth, and the kids and I said: “oh!” and got ourselves packed up to move ‘em on out.  MB had given us a few recommendations for lunch in Chinatown, and once we knew what sounded exactly perfect and good, we spent a moment looking up videos about how to eat it.

We grabbed two of Mar’s umbrellas and each of us pulled our own rolly suitcase while wearing our carry on. We headed downtown, thinking maybe we’d grab a cab but it was really nice out and we *had* spent the entire previous day travelling on our butts and we *did* keep getting closer and closer and I sort of nudged them in the right direction block by block until “we” decided to walk through the park and every time anyone asked me if we were almost there, I said “yes!  just a few more blocks!” I had very helpfully neglected to take out any cash so we couldn’t even stop for any sort of refreshing cart offering, but we love the park and it was gorgeous and we I was really glad we had chosen this path. 

 

When we came out near Columbus circle, I sort of took us slightly in the wrong direction for just a little minute, and then we were at a literal crossroads. I gave the kids a choice: we could go to that ATM then get ice cream and keep walking, or we could get in that cab. 

Wise choice, young citizens

The poor driver must have thought we were going to the airport, I guess most New Yorkers don’t stroll around the town with their luggage in tow.  He was probably disappointed that we were only going a mile, so I had him drop us in Times Square where we could walk the last 3 blocks and he could find a better fare. We dropped our bags at the world’s most ingenious company, then we set out to explore.   It was too late to bother with the bus, so we hopped down to the subway after a quick emergency stop.

and all is right with the world

I wasn’t at all confident that I knew where we were going or how to get there, but I only took us onto one wrong train and I figured that out in just one stop. We emerged at the edge of Chinatown, and although I had a map in my backpack and a phone with GPS, we just sort of zigged and zagged according to some crazy sense of where things might be interesting. It was fun, we felt safe and adventurous and really really hot. Just at the point when our bladders and appetite began to roar in protest, I took out my phone and looked up the restaurant we were hoping to find, and lo, it was on the next block!

soup dumplings at Shanghai Cafe! who knew such glory even existed?

Afterwards, we puttered around and enjoyed the spectacle, then eventually made our way back to the subway, to the luggage, and to Grand Central to meet Mar for the train to Connecticut. We hadn’t done much in terms of spending, and we hadn’t visited any big time tourist attraction that so often beckons from the big city. We’d had a really cool day of finding our way around and using public transportation and feeling like we could figure out whatever we needed to get to our next destination. Of course, we had Mar a phone call away and we did reach out for reassurance and/or assistance a few times (text while perusing the menu at Shanghai: “What am I supposed to get here again?”), but for the most part we just figured it out. 

It reminded me of a post I’d written after another hot day when the kids and I had to find our way around unfamiliar streets. It occurred to me that although my kids are at the weirdish age when it’s hard to find just the right activity to please everyone, they are at the exactly perfect age to become my copilots and navigating buddies, and  it was entirely awesome to take on New York like we did.

Home sweet home - deconstructed

To echo my previously published post below, "I'm currently in Aurora, New York"...this time, unfortunately, to deconstruct the cherished home I wrote about below. My uncle has died, and was laid to rest yesterday. His gravesite, fortunately, overlooks his beloved Cayuga Lake. I' have all sorts of details to relay at a later date, but today a glance back...

-----------
Home Sweet Home

I'm currently in Aurora, New York, where I was born and raised until I was 9, and then returned to each and every summer until we sold our family home after my dad's death.

My dad was born and raised here as well, in fact you pass the veryhouse that he was born in on your way out of town if you're going south. He lived here for 59 years straight, until we moved to Baltimore for my mom's new job. Suffice is to say, it was not easy for him. Baltimore is a big city, Aurora is not. You know everyone in Aurora, in Baltimore you do not. He loved his family, but he missed his hometown.

But my parents reached some sort of compromise, I guess, although I was unaware of it at the time. My father would return to Aurora from May through September (or thereabouts) and we kids, my brother and I, would spend all of our summer vacation up there. My mother would get there as much as she could, but she was working.

(Thinking about this arrangement now, with three children and a full time job of my own, it was probably something my mom relished, a few weeks uninterrupted by anyone's needs but her own.)

But I digress.

My dad was Aurora through and through. And his brothers were too. Two of the 3 of them anyway. They all lived here their entire lives. In fact, my uncle is still living in the Aurora home that the family moved to in his early childhood. He is 83 years old. He's been in that house for more than 80 years. 80!

Sadly, he doesn't often leave this childhood home anymore. He's saddled with advanced Parkinson disease, which makes locomotion difficult, to say the least.

He took a fall last year, and spent the night on the floor until his caretaker found him confused the next morning. He was taken to the hospital, then moved to a rehabilitative care facility.

Suffice is to say, it was not easy for him.

He wanted to go home. To Aurora. To his house.

The folks at Mercy Rehab did not agree. Not one bit.

He needs round the clock care they argued, he could fall again, he should not be living alone.

Shouldn't he be? He's lived his whole life in his Aurora home. Where else should he be? He's a very private man in his 80s with the resources to pay for in-home care, why should he not be at home?

My mom, the rockstar that she is, flew up there and busted him out of Mercy Rehab. We had a pep talk before one of the rehab showdowns, because the social workers and medical folks can be down right intimidating, casting doubt on what you know in your heart is true. But she and my brother and I agreed whole heartedly with my uncle. He has the right to go home.

He's remained at home ever since, and I've seen him each day of our stay. Granted the space in which he lives his life has become very small. His life has become, more or less, one room of the house that he's lived in for 80-plus years. But he has his phone, his TV, his special remotes, reclining chair, and bed all right there. A bathroom has been built adjacent to the room. He has a view of beautiful lake Cayuga, and hummingbirds that visit all the day long. There are no lack of squirrels, or birds, or other critters to ponder, and he has 83 years of life of which to reflect back on.

He has three women who care for him, and snacks and water by his side all the time.

Is he happy in his house in Aurora? That I don't know. Watching your body betray you cannot be an easy task, and there probably mornings when it all seems rather useless, but he's at home, in Aurora where he belongs.

Bounty

So we're having a great tomato bounty.

A serious bounty.

A this-is-as-good-as-last-year-bounty.

Oh those tomaters.

Aren't they gorgeous?

Aren't they fabulous?

But this year we are also reaping the benefits of throwing our over-tiyed gourd remains in the compost heap last fall.

Are you familiar with the term "volunteer"?

Oh, we've got a volunteer . . .

. . . we've got a volunteer taking over the world . . .

. . . or at least the forsythia.

And lookie here. Look what I see growing out of that gigantic volunteer vine . . . You see that?

Yeah, we have no idea what is is, either.