A breakfast story

I had some free time near Muhlenberg College so I treated myself to breakfast at Syb's West End Deli. As we left the house before I had a chance to have breakfast I was hungry for breakfast food, specifically for eggs.

Eyeing up the menu I chose the:= Matzoh Brie with onion. I've never had it before, but I like matzoh, brie cheese, and onions. How could I go wrong? This Presbyterian woman was going to try something new. Toot the horns, or blow the shofar. This is monumental. This is exciting. 

This is ... what?

This is a classic Jewish dish, particularly during Passover. It does not contain any brie cheese. Brie (sometimes spelled as brei) refers to the way it is cooked.

Everyone looked at me expectantly as I tried my first bite. They offered me a different meal. The person at the other table (who works there on Sundays) started to smile and said it happens all the time. They offered cinnamon, jelly, and honey to make it palatable. They could not have been nicer.

After trying a few bites, my plate was taken away and replaced my a menu.

The server/customer at the other table suggested the cream cheese scrambled eggs. So I took her advice.

It was delicious. If I find myself back at Muhlenberg in time for breakfast, I'll gladly try this again.

Side note: Ashley worked here for about a month her sophomore year. Working in a deli was not the right match for her.
 

It Wasn't a God-moment After All ... or was it?

The story as I understood it was my dad broke my mom's prized devilled egg plate. She bought a plastic one as a place holder while searching for a better one. Don embellished the story by saying the plate was a family heirloom from my dad's mom. So when I was at an octogenarian's house and she offered me her devilled egg dish, and I noted the dish looked just like the prized one my dad broke, I accepted it and thanked her profusely.

Fast forward to today.

I brought the dish to my mom and she was pleased to have a replacement dish.

That's where the story should end.

Instead, the dish was not a prized treasure, it was something they bought for a quarter at a rummage sale while in Vero Beach, Florida. It was originally priced at forty cents, but while hemming and hawing, the price came down to twenty-five cents. 

While it is something I remember seeing on my parents' hors-d'oeuvres table, it was a recent acquisition and not a family treasure.

What I thought was a God-moment (seeing a perfect replacement for a treasured plate), will take on a new level of mythology. Maybe that makes it a God-moment after all.

Next time I see the plate at a family function, I really need to take a picture of it to make this post complete.

Let's Go Thunder

Once again Don bought me a 10-pack of Thunder tickets for me to use throughout the season. It is a very thoughtful gift in that it does encourage me to go to baseball games. It is not a thoughtful gift in that rather than me going to 10 games alone, I feel encouraged to bring the family with me. This year that meant opening game with Ashley and Yoran, and a late season game with Don, Ashley, and Anna. Doing the math, that left three games for me to go to alone. Also, there is no extra money to pay $5 to park at each game. Details, details.

Opening Day

Last year was the craziest season in the history of Trenton Thunder baseball. Rather than attempting to recap it succinctly, read the blog post.

This year was less crazy because they only played 40 home games with the Draft League. The season started strong in June (rather than in April) and ended weak in the last week of August (rather than in September). Opening day the stadium was packed. The skeleton sales team did a great job reaching out to organizations and having groups fill the stands. They continued fan favorite events such as Bark in the Park (once an annual event, this season happening every time there was a home game on a Wednesday), and Hispanic Heritage games.

I had a busy July and did not attend any games. By the time I came back, the stadium felt much emptier than the announced attendance. I could easily sit behind the home dugout and chat with the season ticket holders. I always got a promo, even though I was showing up at the start of the game and they were only for the first 1,000 guests (the stadium seats over 6,000 people). 

The Draft League did what they were supposed to -- many Thunder players were drafted into the Major League system. Those left after the draft deadline in mid-July were offered a couple of hundred dollars a week -- better than nothing, I suppose. That's when the college students who were in it to gain off-season experience had to quit or jeopardize their scholarships. 

Play soured. In one game they lost 29-3, the Crosscutters sent 19 batters to the plate in the first inning and scored 12 runs. Bet some of the players longed for their Little League days when the mercy rule would be implemented. Instead, play continued for nearly 4 hours. I was not at that game, but it was talked about the next time I went. One man who always keeps score gave up and went home in the 4th inning.

As for next year the rumors keep flying. The thought is another year of the Draft League, yet many are hoping for a AA or AAA team and a longer season.

Random pictures from the season. It is all about Boomer, the bat dogs (Rookie and Dash), Tommy the bat boy, and Ezra the entertainer.

Williamsburg at Night

Simply a post of pictures taken at night at Williamsburg. Some were taken after a rain storm, others during the ghost tour, still others while Don and I were strolling alone.

As Uncle Tom says, you can't take a bad picture in Williamsburg.

Williamsburg

 

It has been four weeks since our grand family vacation to Williamsburg. For four weeks "Blog Williamsburg" has been on my to do list. Instead of writing about Williamsburg, I have written about getting my Covid booster shot. My birthday. Riding the tandem. Moving Ashley back into college. Seemingly anything except this big family trip that everyone in my greater family raved about. 

I did create a small post about it, but not the full post the trip deserved. Here goes the random flow of thoughts.

Due to being a donor at Williamsburg, Aunt Debra was able to secure tickets for a small conversation with Martha Washington. Much to our pleasure, Martha's husband, Col. George Washington, was able to join us. It was charming seeing how young and awkward he was as a newlywed. They could only answer questions pertaining to their lives as newlyweds -- how he felt about parenting her children, his role as head of the plantation, her role in running the plantation, how they met, etc. He could not talk about the Revolutionary War or being president.

It was fun walking around the not at all crowded streets and recognizing people --

both ones we are related to and reenactors. I was a little saddened that the streets were so quiet. The only time we faced a crowd was ordered a sandwich at the Cheese Shop and at Aroma's (both on Duke of Gloucester Street). I attribute those waits to the shops being shorthanded. 

On Friday Don and I visited the three archaeological sites -- Custis Square, the Baptist Church, and the Bray School. I love archaeology. I can speak this language. A week earlier a Revolutionary battle grave was found in New Jersey, and I had gone on a virtual talk about it -- side conversation topics about how cool it is that they can tell the age of a person from the skull, or that they were a smoker, or all sorts of other clues I would not notice.

After dinner with my parents and Chris at Food for Thought, we took a ghost tour with The Original Ghosts of Williamsburg. Our guide, Hannah, is a Rowan student from Virginia. As Hayden is looking into colleges, with Rowan on his short list of options, it was good for him to connect with a real student (who is also a tour guide). 

The tour was fun, but I spent much of it making sure our sub-group stayed together and less time hearing the stories. Throughout the weekend as we passed groups on tours, we heard snippets of the same stories, so I suspect all of the companies are pretty similar. For some reason I thought the official Williamsburg tour was stationary (they start at the theater) and not a walking tour and I wanted a walking tour. I was proven wrong, but that did not diminish the experience.

On Saturday Don and I heard an organ concert on the William and Mary campus. This historic organ has many less keys and stops than we are used to on more

modern organs. The organist was excellent. He invited a kid to come upstairs and blow air into it to keep it playing -- not as easy as it seems based on how much longer the lag between blows took place as the organist played. This put us at the bakery at the appointed hour to pick up our cupcakes for the party.

After dropping off the cupcakes and changing, we joined the family as they were finishing lunch and heard our first reenactor for the trip -- a married couple both in real life and in their performance. They talked about being slaves on the same plantation -- falling in love, jumping the broom, living separately when the master loaned her out to a different farm in retaliation for something he had done. It was powerful. In the end, he asked

how many people believe in slave reparations. I wish I could say I raised my hand in agreement, but his question made me think -- is it deserved? how would it be implemented? how much? proof needed? how "black" do you have to be? There are no easy solutions, as shown by the government waiving $10,000 of federal student loans, and giving everyone below a certain income level stimulus funds during the pandemic.

Afterwards Don and I went on the Freedom's Paradox tour with a guide who so reminded me for Ashley's 8th grade homeroom teacher, Miss Shields. It was a combination of physical looks and the fire in their eyes when they talk about history. She talked about slavery in new ways, and told us on Sundays they have Native Americans sharing their history. She also told us about the Williamsburg ap -- which has a feature showing you where different historical figures are at any given point. We could have used this when Peter Pan was entertaining fans in Fantasyland, then

again, it would have diminished the fun of stumbling upon Peter Pan playing hide and seek or chasing pirates. After our talk, I tried to use the ap to find George Wythe (the only person not "occupied"). Alas, I think he buried his GPS tracker in the grounds near the Presbyterian church behind the Gaol because he was no where to be found. Instead I heard an impromptu play with members of the audience selected to argue about slavery with a Redcoat trying to encourage them to side with the British and fight. I also stopped in the millinery and pharmacy. 

On Sunday we went to church at Bruton Parish Episcopal Church. After lunch we ended our historic time listening to a Native American talking about the lives of his ancestors in the late 18th century. As we are very familiar with the lives of the Lenape pre-colonization (thanks to Ashley's passion with Churchville Nature Century), I found his talk fascinating. There were many different sub groups because they ruled with 100% agreement of the members (from the age they understood). Those not agreeing, would leave and form a new subgroup with the members who agreed with them. A democracy was a foreign concept to them, just as allowing everyone to have a say was a foreign concept to the 18th century white men. The Native Americans of the time dressed as the white men, and lived among them. When whites tried to take them to be slaves, they simply left and returned to their group. The whites did form schools where Native American boys were sent to be "educated." One such school was on the grounds of the College of William and Mary. They forced them to assimilate. 

Soon enough it was time to drive back to New Jersey. 

I want to Ride My Bicycle (with Don)

Thanks to this blog, I know five years ago Don fulfilled a dream and bought a tandem bicycle. This is a great way for me to keep track of when things happened in our lives.

Labor Day weekend was fairly quiet for us. Ashley is back at school for her junior year. Yoran has returned to Belgium. I don't work on Fridays. Don's office told them to go home at noon. After a couple of false starts, we put the tandem in his car and drove to the Gov. Mario Cuomo Bridge, often still referred to by it's former name: the Tappan Zee Bridge.

The drive up felt as if we encountered every driver leaving work early on a holiday weekend excited about enjoying the finally perfect summer weather, which is ironic because we thought by going to Tarrytown, NY we would avoid that kind of traffic -- after all we were going nowhere near the Jersey Shore. I suppose there are other places to vacation.

Don steers. I sit in the back. I do pedal. I am also in charge of the bell to alertpeople we are about the pass them. With this ride, I also enjoyed taking pictures. The new bridge is stunning. It added a wide 3.6 mile bike / pedestrian lane (3.1 miles over water, the rest over land). Based on how much car traffic we encountered, we expected to have a lot of sightseers on the bridge, too. We did see a couple of Orthodox Jewish families riding their bicycles, but mostly we saw individuals going for a training run / ride. 

After crossing the Hudson River we locked up the tandem and walked around Tarrytown, also known as Sleepy Hollow. The gift shops had plenty of merchandise with "I lost my head at Sleepy Hollow," but mostly it is a charming town with a walkable Main Street and a vibrant community. I went in a few thrift stores (mindful that any purchases would have to go on me).

After a lovely dinner we decided we wanted the return trip to be as the sun was setting. With a 3.6 mile distance (plus another mile from where we parked the tandem to where the bridge starts) it wasn't going to be a long ride, plus the well-lit bridge is open daily until 10 pm, but I still didn't want to do it in the dark.

The sun set behind the mountains behind where we parked our car. It was a pretty ride back.

A couple of days later we took the tandem out again, this time closer to home. We parked at Washington Crossing State Park (NJ) and rode the tandem to the Scudders Falls Bridge to Washington Crossing State Park (PA) and back again. It is a 7 mile circuit, but since we did not cross the bridge, it was a 12 mile route. 

Earlier this year, after much anticipation in the cycling community, the new Scudders Falls Bridge opened with a bike / pedestrian lane. It also added a toll for drivers using I-95 to cross into Pennsylvania (there are no tolls to enter New Jersey using any of the bridges or tunnels, there seems to be a subliminal message). There was talk of adding a toll for people to ride their bicycles or walk across the bridge. I wonder how they would have handled the fare for a tandem or for someone with a bike trailer. Fortunately they opted out of charging a toll.

Again, I took pictures while Don steered. This time I added in selfies. Due to the lack of rain, and an attempt to redirect some of the water, the canal was very dry. I was surprised to see an egret and some turtles. As with the other ride, we did not see a lot of activity even though the weather was perfect. It was ours to enjoy at our own pace.

The NJ side

Crossing into PA

The path is red on the PA side

Must duck beneath some of the bridges. Don suggested a murder mystery plot where the person in the front does not warn the person in the back and they smack their head on the underpass. Hmm.. he might have an idea here.

Back to the Scudders Falls Bridge

Pretty day for cycling

I should note when Don does this ride he starts from home, but I'm not up for that much cycling. I think I need a better seat as that is the part that hurts me the most after (and during) a ride.