Author Archives: mohawkvalleygirl

I Didn’t DARE

Last year I did a few posts on the DARE 5K in Herkimer, NY. This year, as regular readers may have noticed, I have not been running as much. I feel bad about that and this morning I felt REALLY bad. However, this is a positive blog, so I’ll write about what was good about this morning.

Part of the DARE 5K is the Youth Fun Run. That is only a block, but it is a long block. It goes right by my house. As it got closer to the time, Steven and I put our schnoodle Tabby (I feel I must say each time that she’s dog, since Tabby is kind of a cat name) on her leash and went out to stand on the sidewalk. We saw some other people doing the same thing.

We cheered for all the young runners as well as for some parents that ran with them. There were not as many runners as I seemed to remember from last year, but those that were there were having fun.

After they were past, Steven wondered if he was allowed to drive the car down the street, before the 5K runners started. I suggested that Tabby and I walk with him and I drive to pick him up after his shift. It was a lovely morning for a walk.

We paused halfway down the street to chat with some people who had driven in from Mohawk to watch the run. One lady confirmed my assessment that there were fewer runners.

After we left Steven at his place of employment, Tabby and I walked to the post office to put a couple of things in the mail. As we went up Main Street we could hear music playing from the area of the finish line, at the Historic Four Corners. We cut through the park by Basloe Library rather than walk up to where the crowd was gathered.

Up Prospect and down Church streets, we saw that the runners had not yet started. I stopped and chatted with a lady who was waiting to see her family run by. I mentioned that I have run it in the past and feel bad about missing this year. She said it was the same for her. We agreed to look for each other at the starting line next year.

Closer to my house, I said hello to a small family group waiting to cheer the runners. I mentioned that I had cheered the youth run, and a lady pointed to one of the runners. It was the littlest runner, now sitting in a stroller.

“I remember, you were running good,” I told her. “And I love the pink shorts.”

“Thank you,” she said.

I saw a neighbor lady with two dogs Tabby is friends with and went over to chat with her. We cheered for the runners as they went by.

“I’ll be with you next year!” I promised. Nobody seemed overly elated at the prospect, but then they were busy running.

I did not walk on to German Street to cheer them again as they approached the finish line (it might not have been a long wait if the front runners kept up their pace). I thought Tabby looked thirsty. I was definitely thirsty. Now to review my schedule and find time to run, so I can start training for next year’s DARE.

Making with the Random Observations

Well, I’m afraid it is another Lame Post Friday and it probably surprises nobody, least of all myself, that I got nuthin’. In my defense, I was working on my novel. And talking to my husband on my cell phone. And helping my co-worker with the crossword puzzle. Yes, the same lame excuses as last time.

As I sat at work and it was quite clear to me that this would indeed be a Lame Post Friday, I thought I could at least come up with some random observations. I feel that Lame Post Friday has been heavy on half-baked philosophy lately. In fact, it has been spilling out onto other days. So I thought I could leaven the mix with random observations.

I sat at my machine at work and observed… Well, you see, I look out the window, across a very short expanse of grass and weeds, onto a brick wall. The bricks are old. There is some grey foundation beneath the bricks. There are windows, some open, one hanging brokenly. I don’t believe they are ever shut.

How boring is that? Oh, I did notice one thing on my drive home. Two young kids on scooters, a girl maybe nine and a boy maybe four (not that I’m good at guessing ages). They were followed by a lady, presumably the mother, walking a very cute dog — it may have been part pug or maybe bulldog. The dog pulled eagerly on his leash. I think he wanted to be up there with the kids. At least, I don’t know if it was a boy or a girl dog. I use “he” and “his” in a gender neutral sense. I don’t like to call a dog “it.”

I suppose I could come up with some half-baked philosophy on “he/she/it,” but today is random observation day. Also, my word count is up to 300. Plenty enough for a Friday! Have a good weekend, everybody!

No Potatoes

I don’t really know what that means. Louis Armstrong says it at the beginning of one of the songs on a CD I have, and since it is a non-sequitur there, I thought I would it would be appropriate as a headline on Non-Sequitur Thursday.

As you can guess, I ain’t got much.

I’m not really sure what Non-Sequitur Thursday is supposed to be anyways. I guess I just use it as an early Lame Post Friday. Sorry about that, but, you know what, I’m tired. It’s been a long week. A pedantic person would say the week is seven days long, as is every week since they invented weeks. That person would be quite right, but, you know what, being right is no reason to say something. There’s some half-baked philosophy I may re-visit on Lame Post Friday.

Lame Post Friday, that’s the day I’m waiting for. For one thing, it’s defined. Random observations and half-baked philosophy. What is Non-Sequitur Thursday but me being too lazy to write a real post. Right up there with Wuss-Out Wednesday.

Stand by for some more half-baked philosophy: I started this blog because I wanted to make myself write something every day. Does it count if what I write is dumb? How much effort is it required that one expend for writing to “count”? I put it in quotes, because it just occurred to me to wonder, what does it even mean for writing to count?

I will feel better if I answer those questions. Yes, it counts, no matter how dumb, and “dumb” is a judgement call anyways (we’ll save half-baked philosophy on “dumb” for another day). The effort of putting fingers to keyboard or around pencil is effort enough. For writing to count, it must mean something to someone, and quite frankly, most writing does (maybe something dumb, but let’s not re-open that can of worms).

Now maybe I’ll go eat some potatoes.

Garlic for the Blog

Steven and I did a very little running around on Sunday, and already I was tired of it. I did NOT want to also stop at the grocery store. What did we REALLY REALLY need? Milk. Oh, they must have that at the drug store.

As we pulled into Rite Aid in Herkimer, NY, I noticed T & J Fruits and Vegetables next door. Of course I know T & J’s is right there. Last year I got some lovely purple flowers for my container garden, the one color I sorely lacked at the time (please don’t ask about my container garden this year) (I SAID DON’T ASK!).

“If we stop over there first,” I said. “I could write a blog post about it. Look, they have those hangy-uppy garlic things.” I meant the braids of garlic.

I usually buy supermarket garlic. At the Little Falls Garlic Festival last year an area grower expressed horror at the thought.

“It’s made in China!” he said. “Just buy what you need for the whole year right now.”

I did not. For one thing, the garlic braid I did buy didn’t stay good till I had used it all. I suppose I was supposed to dry it or freeze it or something. In any case, there is a sign right next to the Hannaford garlic that says, “Product of USA.” Perhaps not as local as it could be, but I make do. However, I was certain what they had at T & J’s would be more local.

T & J’s looks really cool on the inside, like one of those old grocery stores run by a little old Italian guy (there used to be at least a couple of those in Rome, NY). They have a great selection of produce. I almost got some tomatoes on the vine that looked divine, but since I had no plan for their immediate use, I refrained.

I asked if they had any shorter garlic braids than what I saw. They did not. I went out front and grabbed a long one. I will just have to use lots of garlic in the coming weeks. Shouldn’t be too difficult for me. Regular readers may recall I went right home and used some, for Wrist to Forehead Cooking (Sunday’s post).

T & J’s Fruits and Vegetables is located at 221 S. Caroline St., Herkimer, NY 13350. Phone number is 315-866-7272.

Not a Scooby Doo Plot

Spoiler Alert! I don’t really give much away this time, but it’s become a habit to include an alert.

I admit I DVR’d The Mummy on TCM thinking it was the black and white version. You know how I love old horror movies. When I found out it was the Hammer Films production from 1959, I figured it would still be worth a watch.

I already knew that Hammer had revitalized the horror genre in the late ’50s and early ’60s. What I learned from Ben Mankiewicz’s pre-movie commentary was that for the first few movies they made — Dracula and Frankenstein flicks — they had to be careful not to infringe on the copyrighted portions of movies previously released by Universal. After the success of the earlier films, Hammer was able to negotiate with Universal for re-make rights. The Mummy is the first of those re-makes.

That was very interesting to me. Now I want to see the older version more than ever, to see what they changed. And I may like to write a blog post contrasting the earlier, non-infringing movies with the re-makes.

The movie stars Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, veterans of previous Hammer films. Lee gets to be the monster this time, and he was not nuts about the extensive make-up, according to Mankiewicz. I can see where an actor might find it limiting, although Lon Chaney reportedly found it liberating. I wonder if George Clooney would like to try it. But I digress.

Cushing plays one of the archaeologists responsible for desecrating the tomb of… oh dear, I don’t recall the lady’s name. I may have written it in the TV Journal as I watched, but even if I did I am not at all confident in my spelling. It was some high priestess or other. There is a rather elaborate backstory about how the Mummy became her guardian. Someday I’ll have to look up some actual Egyptian legends to see how much Hollywood was really pulling our leg.

Speaking of leg, Cushing’s is broken, and his uncle has this nutty idea Cushing should return to civilization and get it properly set by a doctor. Of course he does no such thing. For one reason, he would avoid the Mummy’s curse and how would that have helped the movie? Later on he gets to walk around with a romantic limp that, quite frankly, I thought was going to figure into the plot more prominently.

Speaking of romantic, Cushing has a beautiful wife who, in one of those typical movie coincidences, happens to look JUST LIKE the lady in the tomb. Oh well, I suppose you could make up some rationalization about how Cushing is such a dedicated Egyptologist that he subconsciously fell in love with a girl who looked just like an Egyptian. Or something of that nature. I guess I don’t really have a problem with this sort of thing. It figures into the plot and makes the flashbacks easier to cast.

All the usual elements are here: warned against desecrating the tomb, desecrating the tomb anyways, leaving the Mummy’s first victim alone so that nobody quite knows what happened. At one point I said, “Oh, that would be a good plot: the guy that warned them does the killing himself and makes it look like the Mummy’s doing it.” Then I remembered that is the plot of almost every Scooby Doo mystery (although they didn’t usually deal in murder). I only steal from the best.

Cushing indulges in some typical stupid movie male activity. I know I usually rail against stupid movie females. In fact when movie males do it, it is brash or daring or refusing to play by the rules. As usual I must admit, if people in movies had any brains they would sit quietly at home and we would have boring movies (although I bet these days there is some yahoo with a webcam showing exactly that on YouTube). Cushing’s wife doesn’t do anything too stupid. Alas, she does not do much of anything else, either, the sad fate of many a movie female.

The movie does have what was for me a major “Waaaait a minute” moment, but to tell you that would entail quite a long plot summary and a major spoiler (alert notwithstanding). I enjoyed the movie. I think I am becoming a Peter Cushing fan.

Musings on Murderers

Hmmm… Kind of a gruesome headline. My Wrist to Forehead mood continues.

It’s not that I’m too lazy to write a blog post; I wrote quite a bit of one at work today. But it’s not ready yet, and I can’t possibly finish it now. I worked on my novel too, but I’d just like to mention that it is not going very well right now. That could be one reason why my wrist is on my forehead, but we’re not being analytical here.

Then again, why not be analytical on Middle-aged Musings Monday?

I did have one musing. It came to me while I worked. I was thinking about my novel and some of the true crime documentary-style shows we like to watch and a book I’ve been re-reading about Writing Mysteries: A Handbook by the Mystery Writers of America (Writer’s Digest Books, 1992). And it occurred to me: murderers do not have a great deal of imagination. If they had more imagination, they could think of better ways to solve their problems than by murdering somebody.

I feel sure I am right about this.

I believe most murderers believe they have a great imagination. Many of them think they are as clever as an analogy by that guy on Lizard Lick Towing (I never watch that show, but on the ads for it this redneck guy is full of “he’s as something as a something-something,” very down-home and distinctive. I wish I could think of things like that). In books murderers are pretty clever. In movies they are usually clever and lucky. So naturally, some of the real-life kind feel they must be the same.

Or does it happen the other way around? Because these people think they are so clever and imaginative (but are not), they think they can get away with murder (which they would not have to commit if they really were so clever and imaginative). I like that.

And that’s over 300 words. Happy Monday, everybody.

Wrist to Forehead Cooking

So there I was, happily cooking with wine, when I realized — I haven’t done my blog post yet! Talk about Wrist to Forehead Sunday!

What’s a blogger to do? I search for a notebook with blank pages, grab a pen (I recently bought a bunch on sale at Rite Aid) and write while I cooked.

To set the scene: The rice is simmering, the chicken strips are frying, the garlic is breathing, I am debating peeling an onion. I could throw it in with the chicken. It might not have time to carmelize. Lately I have a minor obsession with carmelized onions.

I peeled and chopped an onion and added it to the chicken. Now will the chicken overcook before the onions are done? I did mention this is Wrist to Forehead Sunday, didn’t I?

And what about the garlic?

I should perhaps at this point mention that I began cooking with no recipe or plan in mind. I put on rice because Steven expressed an interest in eating rice. I put on chicken because you can cook this kind from frozen. I put in garlic and onions because that is what I do.

If anyone is interested, I added to the chicken some Roasted Garlic Olive Oil from gusto della vita (it is all lowercase on the bottle). I see they don’t have an address on their bottle, but it is a local or at least an area company.

When the garlic was done breathing I added it to the rice, which still has at least ten more minutes to cook, I think. We will eat this improvised mess — uh, I mean meal with a tossed salad I made yesterday. Won’t that be nice?

Note: As I typed this in, I realized my tenses were all messed up, because I was writing as I went along. I started to change it all to past tense, since it is now, in fact, past, then thought I would leave it as written and see if I liked it. Which I did.

Further note: The website for the oil company is www.gustodellavita.com.

Author of My Own Disaster

So there I was, writing a blog post about me getting organized. I was getting all self-deprecating about how unorganized I am and hoping people would identify with my tribulations — after all, nobody’s perfect — when my computer froze. Oh well, I was sure it would unfreeze soon, at least to the extent that I could re-start it. I grabbed a pen and notebook and started handwriting while I waited.

And waited. And waited. I don’t know if it was a product of my frustration or an honest reaction, but I soon realized that what I was writing was dreadfully boring and going to run into an awfully hefty word count. A lame post is one thing (although I try to reserve those for Friday). A lame, long post is a terrible thing (I just know there’s some snide reader out there saying, “But nothing new.” Where do I get all these snide readers? Oh yeah, inside my head).

Where was I? Ah yes, shutting down my computer in hopes it will help. I managed to do at least that much, and brought the boring handwritten post downstairs to ponder over a cup of tea. Being prone to catastrophize, I worried that my computer has finally given up the ghost and my future as a blogger is in jeopardy. Why, oh why did I not do this earlier, when I could have run to the library and made my post? Once again, I am the author of my own disaster (ooh, how’s that for a high-flown phrase? Perhaps I’ll use it for the title) (if I ever get this typed into a computer).

I guess today’s post (again, if I ever get it typed in and published) (which, apparently I did, if you are reading this) (ooh, I just flashed on Bill and Ted, jumping back and forth in time in their first Excellent Adventure) is another version of the dog ate my homework (my dog would NEVER do such a thing). I may yet write about my adventures in organization. I will try to make it not boring, even to hypothetical snide readers in my head.

Continuing the Fun

When Steven and I left the Balloon Farm Bed and Breakfast (see yesterday’s post), we were not ready to end our afternoon of fun. We decided to treat ourselves to a visit to the Waterfront Grille in Herkimer, NY.

The Waterfront Grille is located just across from the New York State Thruway exit, at Gems Along the Mohawk. Lil’ Diamond Cruises leave from there, and there is a delightful retail store that highlights many area businesses and attractions. I’ve plugged Gems Along the Mohawk before, and probably will again.

We sat at the bar and ordered drinks. I love looking out over the water. I hope to go on one of the cruises before the season is over. We discussed the possibility as we perused the menu. After much debate, we got two of the appetizer specials: bacon-wrapped artichoke hearts and grilled chicken wings. Yum!

Waterfront Grille’s actual address is 800 Mohawk St., Herkimer, NY. Their phone number is 315-717-0700.

This is quite a short post, even for a Lame Post Friday. I’ve been trying to think what I could add to it and, what a surprise, I got nuthin’. Not even a would-be witty comment on why I can’t think of anything. I suppose you’ll have that in the blogging business. Happy Friday, everybody.

The Beautiful Balloon Farm

Last Sunday, Steven and I were delighted to attend a Wine Tasting and Tour at the Balloon Farm Bed and Breakfast in Frankfort, NY.

The event was a fundraiser for the Herkimer County Historical Society. We had purchased our tickets at a program we attended there recently (perhaps you read my blog post about it).

The Balloon Farm is located at 128 Cemetery St. in Frankfort, across from the Herkimer County Fairgrounds. We arrived shortly after the event started at one. A number of cars were already there. A gentleman waved us to a space on the lawn. I was very excited to return to the Balloon Farm. We had attended a similar event there a few years ago, back in my pre-blog days. It is a beautiful setting.

Ilion Wine and Spirits provided the wine. Two Historical Society volunteers were pouring a nice selection. For once I did not take any tasting notes but just enjoyed the samples. We also enjoyed some munchies, including cheese, crackers and mini-muffins.

After greeting some friends and acquaintances, we wandered around the house. The downstairs rooms were all open, and we admired the decor as well as the handsome proportions and woodwork. Collections of dolls and of frogs were scattered throughout. Steven loves frogs. I also enjoyed looking at old family photographs that hung on walls or stood on tables. The lady that owns the house was on hand, telling us who people in pictures were and generally answering questions. I raved over her beautiful house and thanked her for opening it up for the fundraiser.

Most of the rooms upstairs were closed, because the SGT Licari honor guard was staying there. Local readers will know that SGT Licari was a World War II soldier whose remains have recently been returned to his family. I was disappointed not to see the rooms but felt that it was very appropriate that soldiers coming to honor a fallen patriot should be so handsomely housed.

Volunteers were available on both the second and third floor to answer any questions. I remarked to one that I knew what I was saving my mad money for next.

“To buy an old Victorian house?” he guessed.

Actually, I had meant to stay for a weekend at the Balloon Farm, but I liked his idea, too.

Back downstairs we sampled a little more wine and spent some time sitting on the porch. It was a beautiful day for porch-sitting. I especially liked the porch swing. Gotta get me one of those.

We greatly enjoyed our visit to the Balloon Farm Bed and Breakfast and are always happy to support the Herkimer County Historical Society. For more information on the Balloon Farm, visit their website at http://www.balloonfarmbedandbreakfast.hostei.com/
. For more information on the historical society, you can visit http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~nyhchs/ or Like them on Facebook.