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Rain, dishwashers, and zucchinis

So, a few weeks ago, our dishwasher decided to stop working – the motor just up and died one afternoon.  After calling in the local repair shop for their professional review of the situation, the prognosis was not good: not worth repairing, time to but a new dishwasher.  For the past 6 weeks, we’ve been handwashing the dishes, morning, noon and night while we checked out Consumer Reports ratings and priced various models.  Finally, this past Monday we took a trip over to Appliance Arama in Plainfield to pick out the model we wanted.  Plainfield, New Jersey is what is considered an urban enterprize zone, designed to encourage business growth and stimulate local economies in New Jersey; as such, they are permitted to charge half of the standard sales tax rate on certain purchases.  We were able to take advantage of the reduced sales tax, along with some pretty good up-front pricing, combined with two manufacturer rebates, and I decided to save an additional $125 by installing the dishwasher myself.  This morning the new dishwasher was delivered, and a few hours later we were out of the hand-washing business once and for all. 

It rained pretty much all day today, which combined with some pretty high relative humidity to make it an overall nasty day. I did wander out to the backyard to catch up on harvesting some of the tomatoes, eggplants, cucumbers and a single mature broccoli growing in the garden; much to my surprise, hiding under some leaves was the mother of all zucchinis.  The fruit measured 17″ in length, 14″ at its maximum girth, and weighed 5.4 pounds.  A minute later, I found another, somewhat smaller monster zucchini:  15″ length, 12″ girth, 3.6 pounds. 

That’s some serious zucchini.

Woodstock and Richie Havens

richie40 years ago today, the mother of all music festivals opened in Bethel, NY, to celebrate 3 days of peace & music.  Taking the stage first was this man, Richie Havens.

I have a personal fondness for Richie, for the richness of his voice, for his distinctive style of guitar playing, his longevity, his spirituality.  I’ve never seen him perform live in person, but I have been in his presence…

Nearly 11 years ago, my bride and I were flying from Newark NJ to San Francisco CA on the first leg of our honeymoon flight to Hawaii.  One of my then-clients worked as a flight attendant for American Airlines, and Marci was able to arrange for our flight to be upgraded into first class.  For a five hour flight, barely a day and a half after our wedding, first class was very much appreciated.  We boarded early, and while we were in our second row seats, sitting on the tarmac waiting for the rest of the plane to board, the pilot came out of the cabin to greet the man sitting in the seat directly in front of me.  The pilot shook his hand, and told the man he was a big fan of his, but I had no idea who the man was.  The black man’s hands made an impression on me as being very big, with rather long, although manicured, fingernails.  I remained curious as to who this person could be until much later in our flight, when I got up to use the restroom.  On the way back to my seat, I glanced over to see that sitting directly in front of me was Richie Havens.  I played it cool – I did not acknowledge his celebrity, ask for an autograph or suggest a photo-op.  The rest of the first class passengers were oblivious to Richie, and upon landing in San Francisco, I watched as Richie simply proceeded to walk through the concourse completely unrecognized, until he eventually disappeared into the vastness of the airport.

In retrospect, I’m not sure that I would have done anything differently; I tend to respect the privacy of those people who wish to remain private, as Richie evidently did.  I have no proof of any of this, only my wife’s corroborating testimony, but not really knowing who Richie Havens is, she basically took my word for it when I told her who he was.  Ah well.

Richie performed “Freedom” at the site of the original 1969 Woodstock Festival concert stage yesterday at noon,
followed by an evening performance at Bethel Woods Center For The Arts.

Somerset County 4-H Fair

Just returned home from the Somerset County 4-H Fair out at North Branch Park in Branchburg.  It was probably the best weather we’ve had for the fair in years, which explains why it was probably the most crowded fair we’ve attended in years, but it was also the muddiest fair in memory.  The fair runs for three days, Wednesday through Friday, during the second week of August, and at this time of the year it’s not unusual to experience high humidity and isolated afternoon thunderstorms.  A few storms were in the area on Wednesday and Thursday, but absolutely nothing today, hence the huge turnout, but even after getting caught at the fair last year in a torrential downpour, last year’s mud was miniscule by comparison to the mire we slogged through.  Next year, I’m wearing my Wellies.

K. was excited to see some sheep up close and personal – at one point a sheep even licked her face – and W. had fun holding the baby ducks, chicks, and checking out the model train exhibits.  Lots of beef cattle, dairy cattle, goats, llamas, alpacas, horses, dogs, poultry, rabbits, hamsters, civets, snakes, toads, lizards…  radio controlled airplanes and race cars, huge tractors, diggers and front-end loaders on display and for the kids to try out… and a big food tent in the middle of it all.  No rides or corn dogs, mind you, and it’s not quite the Midwest state fair, but it’s as close as we get in New Jersey.

By the way, the July 2009 National Geographic carries a pretty good piece by Garrison Keillor on the Midwest state fair, complete with some not-too-bad pictures.  Check it out right here.

Anyway, now we’re all showered and cleaned-up, the kids are in bed, and it’s time to unwind.  You can view the photos from the 4-H Fair over in the photo gallery.

SCP

Not a day goes by that I don’t think of Susan

and the few weeks that we spent, together, one summer, now so long ago,

before she went off to college, and I returned to high school.

My mind turns to her, daily, even if for just a few seconds,

and I imagine myself talking to her,

and hearing again the sound of her voice,

filled with her wit, her insight, her intellect,

or seeing her again,

her red hair, her brown eyes.

Sometimes, as I drive my children home from school, or

as I make myself comfortable in bed at night alongside my wife,

the question that remains unanswered after thirty years finds its way into my thoughts:

what meaning did we have in each other’s lives?

and I wonder why we’re still so afraid of each other.

Michael Jackson

Holy cow.  For some reason, I am finding it very difficult to believe that Michael Jackson is dead.  Michael passed away earlier today at UCLA Medical Center at age 50. Maybe it is because it seems like I’ve been aware of him for nearly my entire life – he was only 4 years older than me – from watching the Saturday morning Jackson 5 cartoon show, to their performance of Dancing Machine on the Carol Burnett show when Michael first did the robot, the sappy theme from Ben, to his adulthood with Off The Wall and Thriller when he became larger than life itself.  Mind you, I was never a big fan, but I really like a good pop song, and Michael was a damn good performer.  Was, until he descended into freakdom and virtually became a pariah in the media.  Maybe I was always hoping that one day, Michael Jackson would come to his senses, abandon his freakishness, get back in the studio and record, and exonerate himself.  He seemed to be on the verge of doing just that, with his upcoming schedule of 50 shows in London; again, mind you, I was never a big fan, but I admit to Michael’s tremendous talent onstage, and he possessed the ability to pull himself all the way back to the top of the pop music world.

I don’t remember much about when the King passed away in the summer of 1977.  Sure, we all knew Elvis, the hits, the legend, but it wasn’t doing anything for him or me to really care much at the time.  Yes, both endings were tragic losses of tremendous talents before their time, but unlike the King, who was virtually dead to me already in 1977, it seemed to me that Michael was finally getting ready to exorcise himself of his demons and regain the spotlight.

I guess in a way, he did.

My Remotes

dscn4449_edited-1

Clockwise from top: Logitech Harmony multi-function remote; Sony multi-function remote (no longer used); Sony remote for combo DVD/VHS recorder; Sony remote for HD tv (not used – replaced by Logitech Harmony); Sony remote for VCR (used for digital transfer to PC); Sony remote for stereo receiver (replaced by Harmony); DirecTV remote (no longer used); Verizon FiOS remote (replaced by Harmony); Quasar remote for VCR (still in use after more than 10 years); Panasonic remote for multi-DVD (replaced by Harmony); Panasonic remote for tv (again still in use after almost 10 years)

After nearly 7 years, we switched our television service from DirecTV to Verizon yesterday, saving us nearly $80/month between telephone, internet and television charges. We had FiOS internet service installed a few months ago, and decided to take the early termination penalty from DirecTV, which will be made up by a $150 rebate from Verizon.

Anyway, un-installing all of the DirecTV DVRs and set top boxes made me realize how much stuff I need to send back to them, as well as how many different remote controls we have to support all of the consumer electronics we’re running.

 

Meeting the Bishop

dscn4440_edited-1On Sunday, June 14th, W. had the opportunity to represent the SVdP First Holy Communicants at the Cathedral of St. John in Paterson in the annual catechetical  session with Bishop Serratelli.

More details can be found here on the Diocese of Paterson web site.

After running into a small traffic tie-up on the Garden State Parkway, we arrived just in time for the start of the celebration at 3:00 PM.  W.  was quite excited to be chosen to attend this special event, and represented his parish well.

My Own Private New Jersey

Or something like that.

For some reason, we’ve been enjoying the backyard probably more that we ever really have before.  Maybe the weekend weather has been especially conducive to outside activities?  We’re not really sure, but whatever it is, it is good.

dscn4437Spent a good amount of time doing the usual maintenance stuff – I cut the lawn yesterday, and E. planted a few more flowers in the front of the house, before we headed over to her parents’ house for her sister’s husband’s birthday.  This morning I headed over to the Home Depot to pick up a cinder block, 60 lb. of concrete, and a 4 lb. sledgehammer, all needed to complete today’s project:  install E.’s new umbrella clothesline.  A few weeks back when we hosted W.’s first Holy Communion shindig, I had removed a post, to which had been attached E.’s previous clothesline.  The post was simply in the way of where the tent needed to be, so out it came.  E., God bless her, has been practicing green laundering for many years now, way before it became fashionable; in fact, one of the feature that really sold E. on this house when we bought in was the clothesline.  Must have come from watching all of those episodes of Little House On The Prairie as a child.  Anyway, I had to promise to replace the clothesline, and I was able to convince E. to replace the old post with a new umbrella model, which I installed today.  First I dug a 12″ square hole, 16″ deep, and put a layer of rocks in the bottom.  I then took Mr. Shepherd’s cold chisel (Mr. Shepherd was the original owner, c. 1938, of our house; he was a mason, and many of masonry tools are still in my basement.  He passed on many years ago, and his widow finally sold the house after 60 years to the Neilsens.  Mr. Neilsen was not much of a handyman, and had no use for the former owner’s tools, but he was kind of enough to leave them in the basement workshop when we bought the house in 2002) and separated the cinder block into two halves, inserted the pole sleeve into the half with 4 sides intact and filled up the void with concrete.  After letting the concrete set up for a bit, I placed the cinder block and pole sleeve into the hole and filled up the sides with more concrete.  I was constantly checking for level and plumb, and I’m pretty sure once the concrete is cured the umbrella pole will be secure and ready for E. to use.  We’ll see how it holds up when E. gives it a proper workout next weekend.

I also finally cleaned up the remainder of the branches I had cut down a few weeks back when they were hanging over our fence fro the back neighbor’s yard.  I had gathered the branches into a tarp which was set aside until today, when I dumped them into a trash can and brought the can out to the curb for tomorrow’s pickup.  Of course afterward I needed to clean up the tarp, along wth the shovel and wheelbarrow from the concrete…

Grilled up some chicken, served with broccoli and rice, for dinner.  After dinner I out away the tarp, and finally fertilized the vegetables and flowers with Miracle-Gro.

For all of this work, there is still more to be done that I did not get to yet – need to tie up the rose bush in the front garden, as it has become top heavy and is sprawling into the surrounding flowers, and I still need to put down some new topsoil and grass seed where the tree used to be on the front lawn.

<Yawn>

It will have to wait until another day.

If A Tree Falls In The Forest…

pict0688-1…or for that matter, falls one very windy evening in your front yard while you are away at your in-laws’ house celebrating the Christening of your wife’s sister’s baby, does it make any sound?

I’m not sure about sound, but it does make for a very exciting day the following morning when your neighbor comes over to let you know that a significant size limb has cracked away from the tree trunk on your front lawn and is leaning precariously into the canopy of the tree on the next door neighbor’s front lawn.  In fact, were it not for the neighbor’s tree, the fall of the tree limb would have been broken only by the front of the roof of the said neighbors house (yes, the ones who are separating and leaving the house to the bank.)

E. was at home today, taking care of a feverish K., when our neighbor across the street rang the doorbell and let us know about our tree.  E. promptly rang me up at work, which set in motion the calling of several local tree service companies to come out, take a look, and estimate the cost to remove the offending limb.  Before long, the tree service from the next town over showed up, and let us know that the entire tree was in danger and needed to be taken down, at a cost of $2,600.00  Surprise!

The crew arrived shortly after we agreed to a reduced price of $2,300.00, and began to reduce most of the tree to a pile of mulch and wood chips before the sun began to set.  A solitary tree trunk remains now standing guard on the front lawn, until the crew arrives tomorrow in the A.M. to finish the job.

I must admit, I have mixed emotions about the unexpected departure of our tree.  We won’t be able to count the rings on the trunck until sometime tomorrow, but our house was built c. 1938, and I’m sure that tree has been on the front lawn for most of the years since then.  It provided some very nice shade for our side screened in porch, particularly on a Saturday morning while enjoying the still rising sun and sipping the morning coffee.  It also provided shade for the side of the house where we’ve planted the hostas and rhododendrons, and kept the inside of the house cool.  The leaves turned a beautiful red, orange and yellow in the Fall, and the kids loved to create huge piles with the leaves for jumping.  On the other hand, I will no longer need to rake those leaves; my lawn will (hopefully) receive better sunlight and nutrients, and I don’t have to worry about the tree falling onto my house any more.

Camping at the Delaware Water Gap

sunfishW. and I spent Saturday night camping at Worthington State Forest at the Delaware Water Gap.

We drove out on Saturday afternoon, where we met up with 5 other scouts/families; unfortunately, we arrived just after the larger group had taken off for a hike up to Sunfish Pond.  Sunfish Pond is quite a hike – about 6 miles round trip, and would have been challenging for W. to say the least.  I’ve hiked up the A.T. at least twice, and the terrain can get very steep and rocky.  Instead, we setup camp and hung around until the group returned, then had dinner by the campfire.

The temperatures during the day were pretty warm, but the overnight temps dropped into the 50s, which we got to experience first-hand when W. woke up for a 2:00 AM trip to the bathroom.  He really had to go bad, and the dam was about the burst; he did not even have time to put on his shoes for the 100 yard walk, so we grabbed our flashlight and took off into the darkness in just our socks.  Brrrr.  We were men on a mission, and focused on completing the task at hand without delay.

The pace back to camp from the bathroom was a little bit more leisurely, and I noticed the pitch black darkness that lay just outside the small area lit up by our flashlight, and I remembered the warning signs posted all over the forest about the presence of black bears in the area.  I quickened our pace.  When we arrived back at the tent we tore off our muddied socks and jumped back into our sleeping bags, where we slept rather fitfully until sunrise at c. 5:45 AM.  By 8:30 we had struck the tent, broke camp and were in the car for the ride back home.

This was W.’s first experience with real camping – out in the woods with real wild animals, amid the threats of deer ticks and poison ivy, instead of in the comfort of the backyard.  Despite the fact that we missed the hike, he had a great time.

Memorial Day, continued

dscn4395_webSo much for kicking back and relaxing.  Guilt can be a powerful thing, and such a beautiful day as today is a rare thing indeed, so rare, that the opportunity to trim the overgrown hedges in the back of the yard under such pristine conditions might not have come again soon, so I abandoned my indooor plans and cleaned up the back fence and some other forsythias in the yard.  I must say, it looks hundreds of times better, and there is satisfaction in having completed the job.  Also, sprayed the front hostas to help keep away the deer and rabbits.

dscn4389_webTo celebrate, I grilled up some zucchini, eggplant and vidalia onions, followed by a steak; we drained a 2005 Schloss Schönborn Estate Reisling that I had bought for W.’s First Holy Communion that was left unopened, which was simply outstanding.   The evening finished up with the backyard sunset while listening to Madame George.  Sweetness, indeed.

Memorial Day

Front yard Bennington flag

Front yard Bennington flag

No doughnuts this morning, as we all slept in late…  another glorious day in New Jersey, temperatures in the high 70s, and the humidity a bit lower than it was yesterday.  Just finished watering the plants in the vegetable garden (K. calls them my ‘babies’) and some of the flowers that E. and K. planted yesterday.

Now catching up cleaning up around my desk, and my workbench – nothing too strenuous.  I’ll be grilling some steaks later for some al fresco dining, to be followed by backyard lounging and watching the sun as it sets in the distance over the Watchung mountains.

Weekend Gardener, continued

The vegetables are all in: 6 tomatoes (3 BIg Mama and 3 Beefmaster) 3 peppers (Giant Marconi) 3 eggplant (japanese variety) 2 zucchini (Burpee hybrid) 6 bib lettuce and a row of cucumbers (Streamliner.)

I had planned to also trim up the overgrowth of forsythia and other shrubbage that is falling over the top of our fence from the back neighbors into our backyard but the humidity was a bit higher today than yesterday, and I just never got around to it.  It’s raining now, so maybe tomorrow – we’ll see.  For as much as I do enjoy gardening and maintaining the yard, I think tomorrow will be a day to kick back and enjoy the well deserved day off.

E. usually takes the kids over to the Memorial Day parade in Berkeley Heights (compared to our town’s Fourth of July parade, their parade cannot compare) but I usually pass.  The bast part is when they all arrive home with a doughnut or two for Dad, picked up while watching the parade.  Mmmmm, doughnuts…

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