Author Archives: mohawkvalleygirl

On the Road to Vermont

Posted on August 5, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I like to write posts about driving somewhere. My only concern is to not tell the same things when I’m writing about the same route I’ve been over before. Then again, it’s been over a year since I’ve been to Vermont. Maybe if I do repeat myself nobody will notice. Here’s hoping

Steven picked me up at my place of employment in Ilion and we left from there, so right away it was a little different. Usually I go home first and shower and make my blog post, so we don’t leave till closer to five. This got us on the road almost an hour and a half sooner. Woohoo! As we drove through Mohawk I further suggested we go down Route 5S to Little Falls rather than our usual State Route 5 through Herkimer. This brought us alongside a canal path we’ve walked and I’ve run along, and by Herkimer County Humane Society, site of at least a couple of good blog posts (or do I flatter myself?). It’s a nice country road, and I admired several houses, although I don’t think I’d like to live right on a highway like that.

Soon we were in Little Falls. After one wrong turn (Little Falls can be a little confusing), we were on our way out of Little Falls and on the familiar road to Vermont. We passed Nellis Tavern, where we attended a rhubarb festival. Yum! Must plant some rhubarb next year. I love looking at the mountains. I don’t mind the twisty roads a bit, even if I am the one driving (I was not in this case; I was free to make observations and silly jokes).

At one point there were three cars ahead of us and they all turned left.

“Oh, they’re all turning,” Steven remarked.

“They’re probably going to a party we’re not invited to,” I complained. Sure enough, as we drove by we saw a handpainted sign on a tree, “Hunter’s Party.” It was true! Those bastards WERE going to party and I WASN’T invited! “What the hell, Hunter?” I demanded. Of course, I don’t know anyone named Hunter. For all I know it was a hunters’ party and the person who made the sign had put the apostrophe in the wrong place.

Eventually we got to Saratoga, often a tricky place to drive through, due to heavy pedestrian and vehicular traffic. I’ve always wanted to spend some time there.

“I love Saratoga,” I said. “It is so cool looking.” Three red lights later I said, “I hate Saratoga! There are too many traffic lights!” Steven laughed.

Outside of town I saw a sign at an intersection advertising a new queen-sized mattress for sale. A few miles later at a stop light we saw a pick up truck with a matress and box spring in the back. I speculated it was the one advertised, but I suppose we will never know.

I enjoyed my drive to Vermont, and I must say, leaving earlier is the Way to Go. I didn’t feel nearly as tired when we arrived and it was still early enough to enjoy a chicken barbecue (which I may blog about tomorrow) as well as time on the deck with my sisters-in-law.

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Second Verse, Same as the First

Posted on August 3, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

This is the second half of the post I started Thursday. I basically sat during the breaks at work and wrote whatever came to mind. That, of course, is what I usually do on Lame Post Friday.

I went through and typed in the best bits for Thursday’s post. I must say, I was having a harder time writing it than I normally do. Could it be because I was trying to do a Friday Lame Post on a Thursday? We may never know.

I’ve been reading a book about writing (I admit it: I read about writing more than I actually write): I’d Rather Be Writing by Marcia Golub (Writer’s Digest Books, Cincinnati, OH, 1999). Golub says you should schedule yourself time to write every day, say a half hour. If you sit there for a half hour and don’t write much, that’s OK. You still sit there and when your half hour is up you are free to do something else and Not Feel Guilty (yes, I had to capitalize it).

I write this because I was sitting here looking at a blank page and it was very detrimental to my self-esteem (I have a delicate self-esteem). But could sitting staring at a blank page be productive in some perverse way? Golub isn’t the only person to say this. Many writers say you have your scheduled time even if you just sit there. This is in fact my scheduled break, not my scheduled writing time. I don’t have a scheduled writing time. Perhaps that is part of my problem (I imagine there are many parts and/or I have a lot of problems).

One could argue (I don’t know who one is, but he or she is apparently capable of infinite argument) that my scheduled break time is my scheduled writing time. Well, all I can say is, perhaps it should be, because I had meant to spend my break chatting with my husband via cell phone. I had planned to write at noon.

And now it is noon (time lapse is so awkward in the written word), my regularly scheduled writing time (from now on). And I got nuthin’ but the feeling that I am trying to get away with entirely too many lame posts.

That is about as far as I got in the blog on my lunch. I would like to report, though, that the time was not wasted. I turned to a different page of my notebook and wrote a few more paragraphs on my novel. Then to two different pages yet and wrote some more dialogue on two different scenes for a murder mystery I’m writing. So maybe this schedule thing works. I’ll let you know.

In the meantime, I’m over 400 words. Respectable if lame. Happy Friday, everyone.

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Two-Lame Highway

Posted on August 3, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Or is it Too Lame? You decide. Regular readers (hi, Mom!) know I have been struggling for blog topics this week. Of course I haven’t worried about Friday, because, you know, Lame Post Friday: Random Observations and Half-Baked Philosophy. Well, I intend to write my Friday post on Thursday (today), because I will be pressed for time on Friday. So I thought, I’ll just write a marathon lame post, type it all in, divide it in half and voila! Two posts for the price of one! Is that cheating? NO!!! This is my blog! I make up the rules (usually as I go along)!

That was a longish introduction to an admittedly lame post (random observation #1?). Speaking of introductions, here’s an oxymoron (my favorite kind of moron): the MC who introduces somebody “who needs no introduction.”

The other day when I was running, a car drove by me with a dog sitting on the driver’s lap. At least, I couldn’t see the driver. The dog could have been driving the car, which is not the same thing as the inmates running the asylum. It was a cute dog.

Whenever I write a running post I always think later, “I didn’t even say anything about…” or “I forgot to mention…” Then again, my running posts tend to run longer than my actual runs, so I suppose that is all right.

It is a well-known fact that if you think too much about what you are going to write, when you finally sit down to write, you will not be able to pen a single word. But I say if you don’t think enough about what you are going to write, you may not be able to write either. Or what you do write will be self-indulgent nonsense. Um, yeah, kind of like my lame posts. Where was I going with this?

On an unrelated side note: I may not be going away this weekend and if I do go away, my house will not be left unoccupied, unobserved, unguarded, unprotected. And even if it was, I have nothing worth stealing. So if any unscrupulous people troll blog posts looking for people who are going away in order to rob their houses, don’t bother. And if you don’t believe me and do bother, clean the place up while you’re there. You know, do the dishes, scrub the toilet. Maybe clean out the refrigerator. You can just throw away anything growing fur. Don’t forget to take the trash out. (Is that as good a deterrent as, “I’m home cleaning my guns and training my vicious guard dogs with my good friend the Chief of Police”?)

An observation related to the side note: people are often on Facebook “checking in” places. In other words, advertising they’re not home. My sister’s answering machine at one point said, “We’re not home; leave a message.” I gave her a stern talking to about security. My niece’s response (and for some reason I never suspected this niece of having such a fine sense of sarcasm) was to change the message to, “We’re not home and the door’s unlocked.” I think they have one of those generic ones that come with the machine now. I don’t call my sisters very often. Shall I go into some half-baked philosophy about appreciating family? I think not.

That reminds me of my favorite intellectual joke. The waiter asks Descartes if he’s ready to order. Descartes says, “I think not,” and vanishes in a puff of logic.

And on that note, I sign off, looking forward to Friday, which is sooner than you may think.

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Short, Easy Walk

Posted on August 2, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

So yesterday I ran after work so I could write my blog post about my run. Today on the way home from work I saw a few flashes of lightning, so I used that as my excuse not to run. It didn’t amount to much, but by the time I knew that I had already showered (I was REALLY stinky after work). What to write my post about? Then I remembered I was going to sent a postcard to a cousin, so thought I would write the card, walk with Tabby to the post office, and write about that. I used to do pedestrian posts all the time. Nobody seemed to mind.

I found a lovely Vermont postcard with bright red trees surrounding a barn. Steven and I plan a trip to Vermont this weekend (preview of coming attractions), so it seemed appropriate. I wrote a message I thought might possibly be legible (no promises there, but at least she can look at the picture) and started looking for my sneakers.

As soon as Tabby saw the sneakers she got excited. Actually, she’s pretty smart so she may even have been excited when she saw me writing the post card. Steven graciously agreed to accompany us.

The temperature had cooled. I guiltily realized it was a good running temperature, but I just don’t feel I want to shower twice in less than two hours. Anyways, walking is good exercise.

We noticed a house for sale that has been for sale before. I wondered if the people who bought it didn’t like it or were house flippers, or even if it had never been sold but just taken off the market so it could later masquerade as a new listing. I read someplace that that is a realtors’ trick.

The post office was closed, but we put the post card in the box outside and felt virtuous about it. We continued down Park Avenue (no, not that Park Avenue). I saw a girl running.

“Good job!” I said. “I was supposed to do that.”

“Thanks,” she said.

Half a block later we saw four people running.

“Now I want you to go catch that girl,” I told them.

“It’ll never happen!” one lady said.

“She’s too fast!” said another.

Half a block later I saw three more runners. One ran up an alley behind a building, but the other two continued towards us.

“Is it a club?” I asked, but nobody answered.

Later on in the walk some pedestrians were walking towards us. Tabby trotted ahead eagerly. She always wants to meet new people. She thinks everybody wants to pet a cute doggy. These people didn’t, though. I said hello. One man greeted me back, but the rest just walked on.

By the time we finished I realized that the humidity was still high, because I felt pretty sweaty for a short easy walk. I hoped that between the runners and walkers I had enough material for a decent blog post. I guess you’ll be the judge. Just to warn you, I am similarly low on ideas for tomorrow’s post. But perhaps inspiration will strike. I hope you’ll stay tuned.

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Wicking Run

Posted on August 1, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Yesterday (Monday) I neither ran nor did anything else blogworthy. Today I thought it would be a good idea to run and write a post about that.

It was about the only thing that motivated me. Monday afternoon was very warm, but Tuesday was supposed to be better. LIES! What sacks those meteorologists are! (um, that’s short for “lying sacks of shit,” but I didn’t want to use that entire vulgar expression) (oops) (Now I’m getting silly)

I was looking around for a sufficiently large shirt to run in when I noticed a running shirt I almost never wear. It is an actual running shirt which I got it when I ran a 5K in Oneida year before last. It’s that “wicking” material that’s supposed to pull the sweat away from your body for a more comfortable run. It is a medium, which is the size I suppose I actually take. I usually wear a large, sometimes with a couple of X’s. I like a baggy shirt, especially when I run. But I thought, “Wicking material may obviate the need for bagginess. I’ll try it!” I didn’t think bicycle shorts would look as good with a non-baggy shirt, so I looked for my army shorts, with the built in underwear. But they’re black, and I don’t like to wear black things when it’s sunny. I found my swim shorts (yes, girl swim shorts; they do make those things). I found my headband (also of wicking material) and I was on my way!

Right away I felt that baggy was better than wicking. However, with shorts, baggy is not better. The bagginess rides up your crotch in a most uncomfortable fashion. My body was not loving me. I felt awkward. I felt slow. I felt as if I had not run a step ever in my life and was I sure this was really how to do it.

Regular readers (if any) know I recently took four days off and regretted it. Well after Thursday I ran both Saturday and Sunday. Yes I missed Friday and Monday, but still. So there I was, put-putting along, wondering what in the hell was wrong with me. Feeling quite certain I was not up to any hills.

I saw a cute little dog across the street. I wondered at first if it was my friend Nicky. Then I saw it was not. Similar color dog, wrong person. Still, that lady might let me pet her dog, if I could cross the street. That would put me on the proper side of German to run one of several hills. The lady and dog walked up a driveway and out of my sight. I crossed the street anyways. I thought I could handle the unknown park (someday I will learn that park’s name and I will be very disappointed to stop calling it the unknown park).

As I got closer to the park, I questioned my choice. The park would be shady, but wouldn’t it be even more humid amongst the trees? Wouldn’t there be lots of bugs, especially on the path through the woods? I looked up ahead and saw the sidewalk stretching out under bright sunshine. Humidity in the bright sunlight or humidity in the shade? I turned into the park.

First I saw a work truck and wondered if somebody was, you know, working. Then I heard the construction vehicles. Oh dear, what was I running into? It seemed to take a long time to get up the little hill into the park and around the corner to where I could see three large machines that seemed to be moving around vast piles of dirt in what I thought was a parking lot.

I didn’t think they would mind if I just ran past them. I wouldn’t get in their way. One back hoe (I guess it was a back hoe; I don’t know from construction vehicles) was scooping dirt, backing up, dumping it in a pile, kind of near the edge of the parking lot I was about to run by. I ran on the other side of the road. That put me on right side, with traffic, and you know how I feel about that (if you don’t know I’ll tell you: I hate it! I don’t do it! I don’t want other people to do it! I wrote a blog post about it once). Still, there was no traffic.

I got back onto the left side when I was past them. Soon I would be into the shady part and on to the path through the woods. A car drove by me. Did I say there was no traffic? Well, I was back on the left side now.

I saw some boys with rifles up ahead. A car was parked on my side of the road with a lady in the driver’s seat. I couldn’t tell if they were BB guns or paintball guns or what. I put my hands up and said, “Don’t shoot!” just to be silly. The lady in the car just shook her head, and one of the boys said, “Hold your fire,” so that was all right.

Soon I was on the path in the woods. It was cooler surrounded by greenery, and the humidity wasn’t as bad. Sweat was still dripping down my face. I guess it would have taken quite a breeze to dry that much sweat.

When I got to the end of the path I thought briefly about running the rest of the way up to the college. Then laughed at myself for even suggesting such a thing. I ran down the road and back home. That took long enough.

By the time I was headed back down German, almost to my street, I realized the shirt and shorts had ceased to bother me. My legs no longer felt like alien appendages. I can’t say I felt good, but I felt like, hey, I did it. I ran. My weight loss goals remain within reach. My plan to run the DARE 5K is still a good one. Wait a minute, I guess I can say I felt good.

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Screaming Cheese

Posted on July 31, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Spoiler Alert: I intend to give away all major plot points in the movie The Screaming Skull. Oh, and at least one in Gaslight.

I don’t know that the warning was necessary, especially for The Screaming Skull. I mean, you pretty much see it coming. As for Gaslight, if you have not seen it, go watch it to see how it’s done. Then come back and read this post, and/or watch The Screaming Skull, if you’re into that sort of thing.

Where was I? Ah yes, popping in a cheesy movie, because after yesterday’s post I didn’t think I should go for a Middle-aged Musings Monday. Also, the Snapped episodes were all re-runs we have seen many times. Once again we pulled out the 50 Horror Classics DVD set I gave Steven for his birthday. I gotta say, I meant it as a present for him, but it’s really a present for me. Look at all the fun blog posts I’ve gotten to write out of it!

Steven thought we had seen The Screaming Skull (1958) before. I remembered that we had, but it was on an episode of Mystery Science Theatre 3000. So I said we could now watch it without the robot heads (if you don’t get the robot heads reference, I urge you to check out MST 3000; episodes are available on DVD).

As the movie begins, a man brings his new wife to the estate of his dead wife. It is a beautiful estate with peacocks on the lawn and extensive gardens. The gardens are important, because they are maintained by a half-wit gardener who may or may not be aware that the first wife is dead.

The house itself is kind of eerie. There’s no furniture, because the dead wife got rid of it, saying she and the husband would buy all new and make it their own home. But she died before they made it to Raymour and Flanagan. There is a portrait of the dead wife in which she looks a little wild eyed. She was good friends with the gardener, we find out. He is the son of her (dead) parents’ (dead) gardener, and they were brought up almost as brother and sister.

The gardener is creepy, but the new wife wants to make friends. She suggests they take flowers to the dead wife’s grave, which, not surprisingly, is also creepy. The gravestone has a face carved in it, presumably of the dead wife, although I could detect no similarity between it and the portrait. Difference between two mediums, I suppose.

We also find out how the wife died. Apparently she was running in a rain storm, slipped on a leaf, hit her head, fell in the pond and drowned. Ah, with no witnesses. The base of her skull was crushed. Maybe I’ve seen too many episodes of Forensic Files, but that sounded suspicious to me. Actually, it sounded as if it was supposed to sound suspicious and was extremely heavy handed about it. I do hate a heavy handed plot point.

At this point I said to Steven (who was remembering the movie better than I did), “Oh, are they going to do a Gaslight thing and have the husband make the wife think she’s crazy?”

Big nod from Steven. He loves Gaslight, a truly well-done thriller. It’s not one I want to pop in very often, though, because I get too upset on Ingrid Bergman’s behalf.

It takes a long time for the skulls to show up, and the build-up is more boring than atmospheric (despite the creepy house, portrait, gardener and gravestone). We hear that the new wife had some mental problems due probably to the tragic deaths of her parents. I did not catch all of that back story, though, because I went out to the kitchen to make myself a snack (vanilla yoghurt with fresh blackberries and strawberries from the Ilion Farmer’s Market) (just to inject a little local color).

I think I missed one or two skulls, too, and I did not hear any of them screaming. Steven told me the skulls at the end screamed. Silly me, I thought that was the husband, getting his comeuppance at last (I really like that word comeuppance).

Looking back over what I’ve written, I see that I keep referring to skulls, plural, while the movie is call The Screaming Skull, singular. It appeared to me that there was more than one skull. On the other hand, there were never two skulls in the same shot, so maybe it was just one skull that got around.

I’m not sure if we were supposed to suspect the husband or the gardener right away. In a romance novel, the husband would have looked all kinds of suspicious and it would have ended up being the gardener or possibly the reverend and/or his wife. Or else the gardener would have been more gorgeous and more suspicious, and new wife would have ended up with him. I used to read a considerable number of romance novels.

The Screaming Skull clocks in at 68 minutes, which is probably the best thing you can say about it. Do I recommend you watch it? Let’s just say, if you want to see a good movie, watch Gaslight. If you want to impersonate a robot head, seek out The Screaming Skull.

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Too Beat to Blog

Posted on July 30, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Last night Steven and I drove into Rome to meet some people I graduated high school with, roughly a hundred years ago.

It was not the official class reunion. That was last year and I missed it due to the DARE 5K. A classmate who is living overseas was coming to town and asked on the class Facebook page did anybody want to get together.

A select group met at the Savoy. We had a great time. Now, last Sunday I said I was too tired to write a proper blog post, and at the end of the post, Steven told me it was so a proper post. That will not be the case this week. I am really truly too tired to write a proper blog post.

I could do my Middle-aged Musings Monday a day early and lament how I am just too old to party like it’s 1999 (no, I’m not pretending I graduated in 1999, I’m quoting a Prince song) (as a matter of fact, I think I partied more in 1999 than I did in 1981; I was a pretty innocent teenager) (Stop laughing! It’s true!).

I did get out and go running this morning and took Tabby for a short walk a little later (in addition to our usual post-run cool down walk). So I was not completely ate up. I don’t feel I should write about my run, though, because that would make three running posts in a row. And the walk with Tabby was strictly uneventful.

So here we have it: yet another post about Why I Can’t Write a Blog Post Today. I can’t keep doing this! People will get disgusted and stop reading me. I have to admit, though, these silly posts are kind of fun to write. It is comforting when I feel that I can’t possibly pick up a pen to find that I actually can make words on a piece of paper (or directly on a computer screen in some cases).

I am over 400 posts now, all on consecutive days (although WordPress sometimes dates two on the same day and skips a day; go figure). That is more than four hundred days of writing every day. That makes me feel pretty damn good. Now I just have to work on writing something worth reading. Here’s hoping you’ll stay tuned.

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I DARE to Do Another Post About Running

Posted on July 29, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I may be segueing from All Boilermaker All The Time to All DARE 5K All The Time. In any case, I like to use Saturday morning’s run for Saturday’s post. I don’t know why I feel I must explain that every week, with perhaps a hint of an apology. I could probably write a full blog post on writers’ lack of confidence. Maybe next Lame Post Friday.

Be that as it may, I made up my mind to get up and run today. Of course I like to hang with my husband before he goes to work, but, I told myself, I have to run while the running’s good. In the fall and winter I can hang with Steven, then get on the road at 9 a.m. or later.

As I started out, I knew I was doing the right thing. It was cool! It felt great! Maybe I hadn’t lost all the running prowess I had developed training for the Boilermaker! Maybe I would run up the hill out Main Street. Yeah!

I decided against that. I have things to do today. I can’t do a hardcore run and spend the rest of the day flat on my back drinking Gator Ade and reading romance novels (although I did renew the biography of William Randolph Hearst I got at Basloe Library; I could read that). I thought, the hill by Valley Health Services will do me fine. I have three weeks before the DARE 5K to get hard core. I can spend this weekend being medium core.

It really wasn’t the least bit of a problem getting up the hill, so perhaps I should have been a little harder core. Oh well, too late now. Then as my run continued, I realized the cool temperature had been deceiving. Humidity was still high, and my run became increasingly less comfortable. Nevertheless, I hung in there.

At one point I crossed the street to run in some shade. A crow on a wire made an inquisitive noise that seemed to contain a veiled threat. Crows are scary anyways. They are big and mean. They are practically ravens, and you know the trouble Edgar Allen Poe had with a raven. Perhaps some bird lover will tell me that I am quite wrong about crows. They are really very nice, sweet birds, and are in fact nothing like ravens, which Poe was wrong about anyways. Well, if any bird lover wants to so inform me, I am open to new information.

When I ran through Meyers Park, I saw portions of some big stick sticking out of two trash cans. I wondered if it was the big stick the rough boys were hitting each other with the other day when Steven, Tabby and I walked through the park (see previous blog post entitled, “In my Defense, It Was a Big Stick”). I was pleased to see nobody was hitting anybody with the stick (well, I guess it was sticks now), but there was no need to throw it in the trash. Wood is biodegradable. At the very least, it should be put with yard waste for the village to pick up. I left it where it was though. I don’t go digging through the trash.

My run was a little longer than Thursday’s and I felt pretty good afterwards. I feel I can run the 5K; I’m just not sure how I’ll feel afterwards. So that is my goal now: to not feel like crap after the DARE 5K. Oh, and to have some more Mohawk Valley adventures so I don’t do posts about running every day.

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Dithering on the Run

Posted on July 28, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I had previously made a note to myself to don’t go five days without running. This being Lame Post Friday, I could go into some half-baked philosophy about setting high goals and not being up to ideals. Maybe later in the post.

I knew it would be a good idea to go running on Thursday after work, even though I had an Ilion Little Theatre Board Meeting (did I mention I’m their new secretary?) and several things to get done before that (note the use of “would be a good idea;” some of you may perhaps remember my half-baked philosophy about “should” and “ought to”). However, as my afternoon at work progressed, the heat and humidity increased. Oh dear. What have I learned about running when the weather is good, because we don’t know what tomorrow will bring? Many of us do not always act on lessons learned. I further philosophized half-bakedly that there really wasn’t that much difference between five days and six days, was there?

When I got home, I parked across the street, two doors down, since I had to leave again later. As I walked to the house, I thought, “This isn’t bad. I can rock this.” By the time I was suited up and out the door, the sun had come back out. As I started running, the humidity kicked back in.

Well, I didn’t have to go for a long run, and I didn’t have to go for a fast run, and I certainly did not have to attempt any hills. I shuffled along and lived with it. I’ve run in worse. Anyways, I told myself, it might be hot for the DARE 5K and the Superhero Sprint, both of which are in August.

A lady going into the bank said to me, “It’s too hot for that!”

“I know,” I answered. “But I didn’t run earlier in the week when it was cooler!”

As I continued down Main Street, I pondered my evening’s obligations. My library books were due. I had finished all but one. I had thought to return them on the way to my meeting, possibly renewing the one I hadn’t finished online (I’m slowly getting the hang of this online library thing). But would I leave the house in time? Maybe I should walk to the library with Tabby to return the books. I could be my cool down walk. Hmmm. Walking with four hardcover books. Tabby can’t go in the library anyways. I should drive. Was it too hot to take Tabby in the truck? What about my cool down walk? What time did the library close? As I ran by the library, I ran up to the door and looked. Five o’clock. If I put my books in the night depository after that time, wouldn’t that be like returning them a day late? I couldn’t risk it!

After the third or fourth calculation of “If I run for X minutes, then cool down, grab the books drive to the library, walk in all sweaty and gross…” I finally thought, “Stupid! Just renew all the books online. You don’t have to keep the ones you’ve read for two more weeks. You can return them at any time.”

I felt much better about everything after I had come to that decision. I made sure I got online and hit “renew” before 5 p.m., just to be on the safe side.

My run was not long, but I felt it was long enough to count. As I returned home I counted, “Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday.” I hadn’t gone five days without running! I had only gone four! I was vindicated on all fronts, except, you know, doing the math.

Well, looking over what I have written, I believe this is a worthy addition to my Lame Friday Post collection. No random observations, but plenty of half-baked philosophy and with all my dithering about library books, I would say definitely lame. Happy Friday, everyone!

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Steven’s Yummy Reward

Posted on July 27, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

It’s been a while since I plugged a local business. At least, I haven’t gone back and looked. I may do that before I type this in, but as I write this (in my notebook while at work)(on a break, of course)(oh, and a spiral-bound paper notebook, not a confusingly named computer) Where was I? Mid-sentence, but now I’ve lost track of the thought, so let’s get on with my post about Salvatore’s.

Wednesday Steven did some major yard work and deserved a reward, and I wanted a blog post, so I suggested we go out for dinner. I asked Steven where he would like to go for his reward. He wanted me to decide. Some reward: not to have to decide. Finally we settled on Salvatore’s in Herkimer.

Salvatore’s is one of our favorite places to order delivery from. They are prompt and friendly, and the food is delicious. But sometimes I like to go someplace, sit down and have somebody bring me food. And know that they will do the dishes afterward. Of course this was Steven’s reward, not mine, but Steven likes those things, too.

When we arrived at Salvatore’s, some people were sitting at one of the outdoor tables. We opted to go into the dining room. The decor is lovely. I especially admired a wall hanging that was kind of a sculpture of a vase of flowers, with metal and glass. One wall was a mural of Italian countryside. At least, it looked Italian to me.

We both ordered chicken wrap sandwiches with pasta salad, bacon ranch for Steven, Caesar for me. They were quite yummy and plenty big enough to take leftovers home. The price was reasonable, too. We tipped our server more than 20%, because we thought she was worth more than 20% would have been.

It seems Salvatore’s does a larger take out than dine in business. Not many people were enjoying the dining room, but we saw folks coming in to pick up orders and heard the phone ring frequently. Perhaps it depends on the night.

I highly recommend Salvatore’s, for delivery, take out or dine in (at least, we’ve never done take out, but it would be odd for that not to be as good). It’s a good reward, if you’ve been working in the yard. They are located at 650 1/2 W. German in Herkimer, NY, phone 315-866-2600. If you “Like” them on Facebook, you will be enticed nightly with a listing of their specials.

As a final note: I did look back, and I have been plugging a local business about once per week. So I have at least maintained my average. Phew!

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