Another year, another Halloween. Halloween was on a Friday this year. For trick-or-treaters, that's a plus. They can spend all weekend on a sugar high. For pumpkin carving, it made me figure out how to break up my process and how to preserve them while/after carving.
This year, I seemed to be slightly better organized than some previous years. I had my patterns selected a few weeks prior. Printing them out did not present too great a challenge. We did select our pumpkins only one week prior to the holiday, but that isn't an issue like trying to find a decent Christmas tree a week before Christmas.
On Tuesday, I placed my templates on the pumpkins and started punching the pattern into each one. On Wednesday morning, I finished the transfer and connected the dots to make it clear. When I cut open the tops to clean them out, I almost couldn't cut through the largest one. It had an extra dense layer almost 1/8" thick. Wednesday night, I started carving the simplest one but left the tiny cuts for another night to prevent the pumpkin from drying out. And then I tried the crusty one. In only a few cuts, I ended up breaking my new pumpkin carving knife. I had my work...ahem...cut out for me.
Thursday night, I wanted to finish most of the work and not have last-minute panics. I carved for 7 hours, 2 hours of it attributed to the crustiness of them. I broke another knife, and had to make multiple cuts...one to break the skin/crust, then the actual cutting, for each line of the pattern. Part of the Hello Kitty pumpkin broke from the aggressive cutting, and I had to make a repair. I moistened them and sealed them for Friday afternoon.
Evan got his trick-or-treating in before it started to rain, and the number of kids walking around seemed a little low compared to other years. The pumpkins turned out pretty good, and I always enjoy the compliments from the kids and their parents. Until next year....
Friday, October 31, 2014
Monday, September 1, 2014
Evan Starts Kindergarten
If we hadn't just put Evan through a year of preschool, the first day of kindergarten would have been more traumatic for all of us. Instead, it was still monumental but with no tears (parents or child). The past year of preschool had acclimated him to being dropped off at school, then picked up at the very end of the day, as well as wearing a uniform every day. That routine essentially added a uniform to daycare.
A few things have changed:
-He rides a bus to school (much more convenient for us!)
-He does not have after-school care - rides the bus home (better for him)
-He has different teachers for special subject (art, music, gym)
-He will not have nap time (he won't admit it, but he still needs them).
Three weeks ago, Evan had a week-long orientation of half-days at his new school. He had no problems adjusting, except that he expected/wanted to go home when we picked him up to transfer him to daycare for the afternoon.
On the first day, a caravan of us drove him to the bus stop. Despite our advanced warnings that we would not be able to ride with him to school, he became a "leg magnet" when the bus arrived (right on time) and the doors opened. He came willingly when I walked him on and strapped him in (they have 3-pt seat belts). Jenn and I then drove 20+ minutes into the city to be at the school when the bus arrived.
We had beaten the bus by 10-15 minutes. Mr. Carlson, the gym teacher, noticed us standing around (without a child) outside the school and asked if he could help. He was there to greet all of the kids coming off the buses. Besides high-fiving every child, he assigned older students to escort the new students (kindergartners went to the cafeteria, the rest assembled in the gym for the first day). Mr. Carlson, while he could be a gym teacher just like anyone else, did not resemble my elementary school teacher (Mr. Harrison - who could likely bike across the U.S. today) or middle school gym teachers in terms of physical fitness. He is a gym teacher for this generation, I suppose, your average 30 yr-old. That's just an observation of society, not an insult, and he seemed like a very friendly guy who I'd want teaching our youth to play games (fairly and for fun, not cutthroat and hyper-competitive).
When Evan stepped off the bus, he was accosted by another teacher (who's name escapes me) who was boarding every bus to sniff out the kindergartners (they were too fast unloading for her to reach Evan's bus and climb in). That teacher introduced herself as the Special Ed. teacher, and explained that she will spend some time with all students, not just ones who need additional attention.
Mr. Carlson assigned a young girl from Evan's bus as his escort. Sonia is in fifth or sixth grade by my guess, and she was so polite, she held the door for Jenn and me when we followed them into the school. Evan sits with or near Sonia every day to and from school on the bus now. He sat in the cafeteria and had a snack while the two kindergarten teachers waited for everyone to arrive.
Evan's teacher, Ms. Hincks, a 15-year veteran of pre-K and kindergarten teaching in Hartford, announced to the parents and children that she runs a "tight ship," and we think that will work out well for him and us. Still, she isn't threatening and has a good perspective that these 4-5 yr-olds are kids, not PhD candidates. And so, Evan's academic career officially begins.
A few things have changed:
-He rides a bus to school (much more convenient for us!)
-He does not have after-school care - rides the bus home (better for him)
-He has different teachers for special subject (art, music, gym)
-He will not have nap time (he won't admit it, but he still needs them).
Three weeks ago, Evan had a week-long orientation of half-days at his new school. He had no problems adjusting, except that he expected/wanted to go home when we picked him up to transfer him to daycare for the afternoon.
On the first day, a caravan of us drove him to the bus stop. Despite our advanced warnings that we would not be able to ride with him to school, he became a "leg magnet" when the bus arrived (right on time) and the doors opened. He came willingly when I walked him on and strapped him in (they have 3-pt seat belts). Jenn and I then drove 20+ minutes into the city to be at the school when the bus arrived.
We had beaten the bus by 10-15 minutes. Mr. Carlson, the gym teacher, noticed us standing around (without a child) outside the school and asked if he could help. He was there to greet all of the kids coming off the buses. Besides high-fiving every child, he assigned older students to escort the new students (kindergartners went to the cafeteria, the rest assembled in the gym for the first day). Mr. Carlson, while he could be a gym teacher just like anyone else, did not resemble my elementary school teacher (Mr. Harrison - who could likely bike across the U.S. today) or middle school gym teachers in terms of physical fitness. He is a gym teacher for this generation, I suppose, your average 30 yr-old. That's just an observation of society, not an insult, and he seemed like a very friendly guy who I'd want teaching our youth to play games (fairly and for fun, not cutthroat and hyper-competitive).
When Evan stepped off the bus, he was accosted by another teacher (who's name escapes me) who was boarding every bus to sniff out the kindergartners (they were too fast unloading for her to reach Evan's bus and climb in). That teacher introduced herself as the Special Ed. teacher, and explained that she will spend some time with all students, not just ones who need additional attention.
Mr. Carlson assigned a young girl from Evan's bus as his escort. Sonia is in fifth or sixth grade by my guess, and she was so polite, she held the door for Jenn and me when we followed them into the school. Evan sits with or near Sonia every day to and from school on the bus now. He sat in the cafeteria and had a snack while the two kindergarten teachers waited for everyone to arrive.
Evan's teacher, Ms. Hincks, a 15-year veteran of pre-K and kindergarten teaching in Hartford, announced to the parents and children that she runs a "tight ship," and we think that will work out well for him and us. Still, she isn't threatening and has a good perspective that these 4-5 yr-olds are kids, not PhD candidates. And so, Evan's academic career officially begins.
Friday, November 1, 2013
Halloween 2013
Yes, I know I haven't posted an event since last Halloween. Someday, I will remedy that. For now, enjoy Halloween 2013. No crazy weather interruptions this year, but significant workload and an imminent, epic vacation forced me to scale back the effort ever so slightly. Hopefully, this isn't noticeable to you readers. Besides the personal satisfaction of creating these, I also appreciate the compliments from the neighbors. This year, the number of people photographing and complimenting the pumpkins was high but not unusually so (we really do live in a great neighborhood with friendly people). What was noticeably different was how many of the children (using that term loosely for the trick-or-treaters) mentioned them, too.
Evan, the construction worker, is currently still fine with visiting only a handful of neighbors that we know, so his candy intake is extremely limited. Some of it even disappears or gets exchanged by the Great Pumpkin. It also takes only 15 minutes for him to return, then he helps hand out candy. He's stingy...only gives one piece to each child.
Evan, the construction worker, is currently still fine with visiting only a handful of neighbors that we know, so his candy intake is extremely limited. Some of it even disappears or gets exchanged by the Great Pumpkin. It also takes only 15 minutes for him to return, then he helps hand out candy. He's stingy...only gives one piece to each child.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Our First Half-Marathon (How Else to Celebrate 5 Years of Marriage?)
Jenn had developed an interest in running in 2012, and I adopted it as well. That interest carried into 2013. 2012 was limited to 5K (3.1 mi.) road races, culminating with the 4.7-mile Manchester Road Race on Thanksgiving. Both of us finished that race, but I had encountered some muscular issues around my knees since September 2012 that I fought through in order to finish.
In December 2012, thoughts about next year's "season" came about. What races did we want to run? What goals did we wish to achieve? We looked toward setting new distance records, and with a year to train (and for me, heal/rehabilitate), we thought a half-marathon was possible. Instead of running the Hartford half-marathon, we decided to make an event out of it. Montreal had its half/full marathon scheduled for the weekend of our fifth wedding anniversary. 13.1 miles. We signed up, me, unsure how ready I'd be.
In January 2013, I went to physical therapy for a few weeks to address sharp pains I would get in my knees right around 2.2 miles whenever I ran. I had been running farther than that for many years, so this had to be a correctable problem. The therapy concentrated on getting better flexibility in my legs, so all I had done for several weeks was stretch my legs in a variety of ways. I thought it was helping, but despite my increased flexibility, the pain still came right around the same distance.
Then I came to the realization that not all physical therapists are created equal. How? Because after only 6 weeks, she tells me, "Maybe you should think about about not running anymore." I was so disgusted with this assessment. I knew that this was not an irreversible structural injury. I needed to get a second opinion, so I met with a therapist Jenn had seen at her gym. April was a former hurdler at UConn, so she understood a little something about running.
April had a different approach to my problem. Instead of stretching, I needed to strengthen. My knee pains were from certain weak leg muscles forcing other muscles to compensate. I started strength training and by late-Spring, my knee problems were gone.
I started increasing my distances when running, and had gone as far as 6.2 miles (10k). But on one such run, I developed a pain on the top of my foot. It was a sharp pain that increased just from walking days later. I was concerned I might have a stress-fracture. A x-ray came up negative, so I just took it easy a few weeks and didn't run. But just walking was enough to aggravate my foot. I went to a podiatrist recommended at a free consultation at a running store. He confirmed I did not have nor did I have in the past a stress fracture. Since my foot wasn't healing after a month of inactivity, he recommended physical therapy. I went back to April, and besides some strengthening of some muscles around the foot, she applied a few treatments of ultrasound and iontophoresis (an electrical method of drawing medication below the skin into the tendons of my foot) to the top of my foot. My theory on what had happened - my running shoes had laces which were too tight one time, and they bruised the tendons in my foot from one run. Since tendons get very little blood flow naturally, they were not healing through simple rest.
Once again, April healed me after several weeks, but now I had another problem: I hadn't run in 2 months, and I had only 8 weeks until the Montreal half-marathon. I feverishly researched the internet for half-marathon training programs, but most of them were 12 weeks or had me running 5 days a week, and I was not comfortable jumping to that level of activity so quickly (plus, I can't fit 12 weeks of training into 8 weeks).
I finally came across a program which was fairly basic in its design. Run 3 times a week, 2 short runs and 1 long run. The short runs increased 1/2 mile each week, and the long run 1 mile per week. With my primary goal of being able to just finish the race, I decided I could take that training up to a long run of 10 miles one week before the race, and that I would have to gut out the final 3 on race day, walking them if I absolutely had to (I didn't think that, but did know there was some risk of a muscle injury making an increase in mileage the large in just a week).
My training went along without any major issues. I did learn a few things about running longer distances (like how far I can go before I have to drink water or eat something), and so came the trip the Montreal. We drove up (~6 hours) on a Thursday afternoon while Evan stayed in CT. On Friday, we toured the city (mostly on foot) and welcomed into town my next-door neighbor Chris (and his sister from NJ), who has been living in CA on a temporary assignment since April. Chris qualified for and completed the Boston Marathon in 2011, so he is no stranger to running. In fact, he has been our pseudo running coach. On Saturday, we saw more of Montreal and prepared for an early bedtime and early rise...the race was Sunday morning.
Sunday morning came and with it 50-degree weather and steady rain...less than ideal conditions for running a half-marathon. We loaded up on coffee, artisan bread, and the worst-tasting natural peanut butter I'd ever had. We set across town on the Metro with thousands of other people. Near the start line, we finished any remaining snacks and water, and needed a final pit-stop before heading up on a bridge for the starting line. It turns out there were not nearly enough port-o-potties, and we (shamefully) cut in line to make sure we weren't still waiting when the race started.
Up the bridge we went and then waited in our respective starting "corrals" (based on expected finish time). There we stood for for at least 30 minutes while the corrals in front of us were released every few minutes (Chris was in the very first corral). Fortunately, the rain was not a heavy downpour; it was a light drizzle which eventually stopped. The bigger effect the rain had was seen in the first several miles of the course...it ran through an amusement park where large puddles of water had collected, and runners on a 15-ft wide path all bottle-necked to the narrow areas to avoid stomping in 6 inches of water. Once past that, I just plugged along and kept my target pace without any incidents. The last challenge was a killer uphill section about a mile from the finish. I had next to nothing left, but I did not walk. I finished and beat my goal time, despite having run (according to my GPS watch) an extra quarter mile beyond the 13.1 (I'm still unsure if that extra distance was some metric-English measurement error or whether any meandering beyond straight corner-to-corner over 13 miles could add that much extra distance). Happy to have finished, I waited for Jenn to cross the finish line. We found Chris and his sister, ate a few bites of food, and headed back to the hotel. The weather had seemed to get chillier, and there wasn't enough entertainment for us to stick around.
Wehad dinner pigged-out in the old section of Montreal at a decent French place called Holder. On Monday, we had breakfast, picked up some more Canadian novelties, then drove home. Driving through Vermont on a Monday, we learned, is not the best strategy if you want to stop and eat somewhere. We drove about 2 hours further than we could tolerate until we finally found civilization and and open restaurant.
My legs were quite sore for a few days, and I had some nice blisters on my feet. I did tax my muscles by increasing distance so quickly, but figured out how to recover without therapy this time. We ran the Manchester Road Race again (this time in some brisk, 34 degree weather). I fought through more muscle soreness (not yet recovered form the marathon) but still beat my 2012 time by 8 seconds.
In December 2012, thoughts about next year's "season" came about. What races did we want to run? What goals did we wish to achieve? We looked toward setting new distance records, and with a year to train (and for me, heal/rehabilitate), we thought a half-marathon was possible. Instead of running the Hartford half-marathon, we decided to make an event out of it. Montreal had its half/full marathon scheduled for the weekend of our fifth wedding anniversary. 13.1 miles. We signed up, me, unsure how ready I'd be.
In January 2013, I went to physical therapy for a few weeks to address sharp pains I would get in my knees right around 2.2 miles whenever I ran. I had been running farther than that for many years, so this had to be a correctable problem. The therapy concentrated on getting better flexibility in my legs, so all I had done for several weeks was stretch my legs in a variety of ways. I thought it was helping, but despite my increased flexibility, the pain still came right around the same distance.
Then I came to the realization that not all physical therapists are created equal. How? Because after only 6 weeks, she tells me, "Maybe you should think about about not running anymore." I was so disgusted with this assessment. I knew that this was not an irreversible structural injury. I needed to get a second opinion, so I met with a therapist Jenn had seen at her gym. April was a former hurdler at UConn, so she understood a little something about running.
April had a different approach to my problem. Instead of stretching, I needed to strengthen. My knee pains were from certain weak leg muscles forcing other muscles to compensate. I started strength training and by late-Spring, my knee problems were gone.
I started increasing my distances when running, and had gone as far as 6.2 miles (10k). But on one such run, I developed a pain on the top of my foot. It was a sharp pain that increased just from walking days later. I was concerned I might have a stress-fracture. A x-ray came up negative, so I just took it easy a few weeks and didn't run. But just walking was enough to aggravate my foot. I went to a podiatrist recommended at a free consultation at a running store. He confirmed I did not have nor did I have in the past a stress fracture. Since my foot wasn't healing after a month of inactivity, he recommended physical therapy. I went back to April, and besides some strengthening of some muscles around the foot, she applied a few treatments of ultrasound and iontophoresis (an electrical method of drawing medication below the skin into the tendons of my foot) to the top of my foot. My theory on what had happened - my running shoes had laces which were too tight one time, and they bruised the tendons in my foot from one run. Since tendons get very little blood flow naturally, they were not healing through simple rest.
Once again, April healed me after several weeks, but now I had another problem: I hadn't run in 2 months, and I had only 8 weeks until the Montreal half-marathon. I feverishly researched the internet for half-marathon training programs, but most of them were 12 weeks or had me running 5 days a week, and I was not comfortable jumping to that level of activity so quickly (plus, I can't fit 12 weeks of training into 8 weeks).
I finally came across a program which was fairly basic in its design. Run 3 times a week, 2 short runs and 1 long run. The short runs increased 1/2 mile each week, and the long run 1 mile per week. With my primary goal of being able to just finish the race, I decided I could take that training up to a long run of 10 miles one week before the race, and that I would have to gut out the final 3 on race day, walking them if I absolutely had to (I didn't think that, but did know there was some risk of a muscle injury making an increase in mileage the large in just a week).
My training went along without any major issues. I did learn a few things about running longer distances (like how far I can go before I have to drink water or eat something), and so came the trip the Montreal. We drove up (~6 hours) on a Thursday afternoon while Evan stayed in CT. On Friday, we toured the city (mostly on foot) and welcomed into town my next-door neighbor Chris (and his sister from NJ), who has been living in CA on a temporary assignment since April. Chris qualified for and completed the Boston Marathon in 2011, so he is no stranger to running. In fact, he has been our pseudo running coach. On Saturday, we saw more of Montreal and prepared for an early bedtime and early rise...the race was Sunday morning.
Sunday morning came and with it 50-degree weather and steady rain...less than ideal conditions for running a half-marathon. We loaded up on coffee, artisan bread, and the worst-tasting natural peanut butter I'd ever had. We set across town on the Metro with thousands of other people. Near the start line, we finished any remaining snacks and water, and needed a final pit-stop before heading up on a bridge for the starting line. It turns out there were not nearly enough port-o-potties, and we (shamefully) cut in line to make sure we weren't still waiting when the race started.
Up the bridge we went and then waited in our respective starting "corrals" (based on expected finish time). There we stood for for at least 30 minutes while the corrals in front of us were released every few minutes (Chris was in the very first corral). Fortunately, the rain was not a heavy downpour; it was a light drizzle which eventually stopped. The bigger effect the rain had was seen in the first several miles of the course...it ran through an amusement park where large puddles of water had collected, and runners on a 15-ft wide path all bottle-necked to the narrow areas to avoid stomping in 6 inches of water. Once past that, I just plugged along and kept my target pace without any incidents. The last challenge was a killer uphill section about a mile from the finish. I had next to nothing left, but I did not walk. I finished and beat my goal time, despite having run (according to my GPS watch) an extra quarter mile beyond the 13.1 (I'm still unsure if that extra distance was some metric-English measurement error or whether any meandering beyond straight corner-to-corner over 13 miles could add that much extra distance). Happy to have finished, I waited for Jenn to cross the finish line. We found Chris and his sister, ate a few bites of food, and headed back to the hotel. The weather had seemed to get chillier, and there wasn't enough entertainment for us to stick around.
We
My legs were quite sore for a few days, and I had some nice blisters on my feet. I did tax my muscles by increasing distance so quickly, but figured out how to recover without therapy this time. We ran the Manchester Road Race again (this time in some brisk, 34 degree weather). I fought through more muscle soreness (not yet recovered form the marathon) but still beat my 2012 time by 8 seconds.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
PreK Magnet School
The state of CT is not organized like most states when it comes to local government. We have 8 counties, but they are now relatively meaningless. In 1960, the county government structure was abolished in favor of a town structure. Rhode Island is the only other state that operates this way. There are 169 towns in CT. They vary in size, but most can take only a few minutes to cross by car. Each one has its own government, police force, and in the more populated regions, school system. Less-populated areas have regional schools that share amongst several towns. The result of all of this is a town public school system which typically has a few elementary schools, one middle school, and one high school.
In the Hartford area, there are a multiple public magnet school systems which are established with specialized curriculums and expanded, multi-town attendance regions to promote voluntary desegregation. Our interest in these schools was fueled by the (in some cases) better overall academic performance and also a funded pre-school system which literally saves thousands of dollars in daycare. It also provides a system of choice that we wouldn't have unless we moved to a desired school system. The magnet systems are free, essentially subsidized by the public school systems for the town in which we actually live.
In late spring 2013, we attended an Open House event nearby where all of the schools were present to showcase what they had to offer. We talked to a few people and came up with a list of favorites based on proximity, open slots, and curriculum/academic approach. We entered into a lottery with first, second, and third choices of schools. Unfortunately, we did not get selected. But after that, the Hartford Magnet system learned it was at risk of losing funding due to not fulfilling its requirement to provide a diverse (urban v. suburban) attendance. It decided to open additional schools and have another lottery. One such new school was a PreK facility, and Jenn entered into that new lottery. And we got selected.
And so begins our journey into public schools, bureaucracy, etc. There was no avoiding it unless we chose to home-school or select a private school, neither of which were options for us. We just began this journey a year sooner than normal, but there were a few benefits. First, Evan gets into the magnet system, and once in, he's in for good. No more lotteries. One thing that concerned us was what choices/control we would have over which school he attends. We were told he would get "a" magnet school once he graduated PreK, but it would not necessarily be our first choice. We did have our own town school system as a fallback if that aspect didn't work for us.
In addition to getting in for Evan's academic career, we end up saving literally thousands of dollars in daycare, and we were promised a brand-new school for the pre-K students. All of these factors added up to, "What do we have to lose?"
This project, like so many others encounter in their public school systems (yes, I've read about the Baltimore Co. nightmares with Common Core adoption), was another instance of government taking on a project out of desperation and making-do with what they could. In August 2013, Evan started his first day. The new school was indeed a new building, but it wasn't purpose-built for pre-K children. It was a newly-constructed middle school that did not need all of the room. Allegedly, there is a Pre-K school being constructed, but it was never going to be ready for the start of the school year. The plan was to temporarily set up in the middle school and relocate once the Pre-K school was finished in the beginning of 2014.
There were some growing pains. We visited the school just the day before school started, and there was so much that wasn't complete. Phones were still being installed, SMART boards weren't there, the classrooms had only half of their furniture, and the fire alarms were still being tested. They had not thought about basic issues like cubbies (the hallways had lockers with combination locks) and many other things. We brought him in with some trepidation, but the people seemed nice and well-intentioned. We were only worried he might get a better education at his daycare.
Just a few photos from his first day. I'll include thoughts on the overall experience in a later post.
In the Hartford area, there are a multiple public magnet school systems which are established with specialized curriculums and expanded, multi-town attendance regions to promote voluntary desegregation. Our interest in these schools was fueled by the (in some cases) better overall academic performance and also a funded pre-school system which literally saves thousands of dollars in daycare. It also provides a system of choice that we wouldn't have unless we moved to a desired school system. The magnet systems are free, essentially subsidized by the public school systems for the town in which we actually live.
In late spring 2013, we attended an Open House event nearby where all of the schools were present to showcase what they had to offer. We talked to a few people and came up with a list of favorites based on proximity, open slots, and curriculum/academic approach. We entered into a lottery with first, second, and third choices of schools. Unfortunately, we did not get selected. But after that, the Hartford Magnet system learned it was at risk of losing funding due to not fulfilling its requirement to provide a diverse (urban v. suburban) attendance. It decided to open additional schools and have another lottery. One such new school was a PreK facility, and Jenn entered into that new lottery. And we got selected.
And so begins our journey into public schools, bureaucracy, etc. There was no avoiding it unless we chose to home-school or select a private school, neither of which were options for us. We just began this journey a year sooner than normal, but there were a few benefits. First, Evan gets into the magnet system, and once in, he's in for good. No more lotteries. One thing that concerned us was what choices/control we would have over which school he attends. We were told he would get "a" magnet school once he graduated PreK, but it would not necessarily be our first choice. We did have our own town school system as a fallback if that aspect didn't work for us.
In addition to getting in for Evan's academic career, we end up saving literally thousands of dollars in daycare, and we were promised a brand-new school for the pre-K students. All of these factors added up to, "What do we have to lose?"
This project, like so many others encounter in their public school systems (yes, I've read about the Baltimore Co. nightmares with Common Core adoption), was another instance of government taking on a project out of desperation and making-do with what they could. In August 2013, Evan started his first day. The new school was indeed a new building, but it wasn't purpose-built for pre-K children. It was a newly-constructed middle school that did not need all of the room. Allegedly, there is a Pre-K school being constructed, but it was never going to be ready for the start of the school year. The plan was to temporarily set up in the middle school and relocate once the Pre-K school was finished in the beginning of 2014.
There were some growing pains. We visited the school just the day before school started, and there was so much that wasn't complete. Phones were still being installed, SMART boards weren't there, the classrooms had only half of their furniture, and the fire alarms were still being tested. They had not thought about basic issues like cubbies (the hallways had lockers with combination locks) and many other things. We brought him in with some trepidation, but the people seemed nice and well-intentioned. We were only worried he might get a better education at his daycare.
Just a few photos from his first day. I'll include thoughts on the overall experience in a later post.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Monster Jam 2013
Netflix introduced Evan to monster trucks, and he became an instant fan, accumulating a few toys. Expecting the indoor arena visits to be too loud and smoky, I searched for an outdoor monster truck event in CT. Fortunately, we have a short racetrack about 30 minutes away. Stafford Motor Speedway in Stafford Springs, CT mostly has NASCAR SK modified car events on its 1/2 mile oval track, but it also hosts Monster trucks for one weekend in July each year.
Monster Truck events are more about spectacle than competition, or at least they should be. Yes, there is an element of competition...who does the best wheelie, who has the most impressive tricks, etc. The "strict scoring system" has a peculiar way putting the "favorites" on the medal stand, like Olympic figure skating. I'd rather the scoring not get in the way of the drivers trying to do the most with their trucks.
I think I enjoyed the show as much as Evan did, maybe more. Yes, the trucks are loud, but they don't compare to the numerous indoor Metallica concerts I've been to. They are marvelous pieces of machinery. Ever seen a 10,000-lb truck fly 60 feet off the ground? We'll be back again.
Monster Truck events are more about spectacle than competition, or at least they should be. Yes, there is an element of competition...who does the best wheelie, who has the most impressive tricks, etc. The "strict scoring system" has a peculiar way putting the "favorites" on the medal stand, like Olympic figure skating. I'd rather the scoring not get in the way of the drivers trying to do the most with their trucks.
I think I enjoyed the show as much as Evan did, maybe more. Yes, the trucks are loud, but they don't compare to the numerous indoor Metallica concerts I've been to. They are marvelous pieces of machinery. Ever seen a 10,000-lb truck fly 60 feet off the ground? We'll be back again.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Berger Cookies 2013
My great loves that cannot be purchased locally often spawn creative culinary missions to remedy their absence in my life. For example, many of you know I developed and honed skills to make home made pizza, with a variety of yeast-leaven crusts and even my own sauce and cheese mixtures. That was due to my relocation to a woefully undeveloped St. Mary's County for several years in the late '90's. I digress...a news release in late 2012 threatening the very existence of one of those loves ignited yet another mission...
The infamous Baltimore delicacy known as the Berger Cookie has been a staple for generations of Baltimore residents. There are few things I miss more since I moved away. I have heard recently that they are re-branded and sold under a different name in other regions, but that's unconfirmed by me. So, whenever I or a friend from CT visits Baltimore, it's imperative that some Berger cookies be purchased and brought home.
With a nifty ice cream maker attachment to my KitchenAid mixer, I set out to make a specialty ice cream that I had heard existed but never could find: Berger Cookie Ice Cream. The ice cream part is relatively simple, but I felt (and still do) that the ultimate Berger Cookie Ice Cream must be more than vanilla with chunks of chopped up cookies. I wanted to be able to duplicate the cookie itself so I could experiment with rippling the Berger fudge throughout the mixture.
I scoured the internet (think about how futile and time-consuming a search like this would be with only a library as a resource) looking for copycat recipes. Not surprisingly, because the Berger Cookie is regional, there are not many. Nevertheless, I took one that purported to match the real deal. The results of my initial attempt were not favorable overall. The good news is I can reasonably reproduce the cookie portion...yay, fantastic, wonderful. So now that I can duplicate the flavorless part, the work began on the essential part...the fudge.
On the ice cream front, chopped Berger Cookies can make a decent mixture, and that will suffice for now. My ice cream efforts are broadening to explore additional flavors. More to come on that.
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