Tag Archives: Mohawk Valley adventures

I Haven’t Even Mentioned What I’m Wearing

Goodness, do I ever wait till this late on a Saturday to make my blog post?  I suppose sometimes I do, but those are the days I am at this point gearing up for an evening of relaxing at my house with my husband and dog.  It is my favorite way to spend a Saturday or almost any evening.  However, this evening, adventure beckons.

 

A month or two ago, we went to dinner with friends, then a show atIlion Little Theatre, then for drinks afterward (I may have written a blog post about it) (I just checked: two, in fact).  It was such a delightful evening that when the final show of the season came around, one of the people involved (believe it or not, it wasn’t me) suggested we do it again.  Naturally Steven and I jumped on board.

 

Knowing this was happening, why did I not make my blog post earlier?  That is a good question.  Well, I was kind of busy.  I went to the laundromat and worked on my novel.  By “worked on my novel,” I mean I wrote my sister the novelist a letter lamenting my plot problems (which passed the time nicely at the laundromat), then sat at home, staring at pages of novel and notes, thinking, “What the hell am I going to do with this?”

 

I finally began to write one of those back cover blurbs, to try to get an overview of the thing.  I think it was helpful.   Tomorrow I will look at it again and try, try, try to figure out what to do next.  Maybe I’ll call the novelist sister and get her advice.  Or maybe that will be another stalling tactic.

 

In any case, I must leave soon for tonight’s adventure.  I had meant to write a really fast, three sentence post, then try to do an unprecedented second post later tonight.  However, I think this one can count.  See you on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

 

Saturday Adventures

I had an afternoon of Mohawk Valley adventures on Saturday with my sister Cheryl.

We drove to Little Falls for an an exhibit opening at Mohawk Valley Center for the Arts. I always feel artsy when I say I’m going to an exhibit opening.  We had parked at the Shops at 25 West, since we also intended to visit there and at the Little Falls Antique Center.

I’ll write more about the exhibit in a later post.  For now I’ll just say. these openings are very popular. At times the crowd made it difficult to really appreciate the art.  We enjoyed what we did see, then looked at The Selective Eye gift shop which Cheryl had not seen before. We spotted a couple of good Christmas presents, but I mustn’t say what in case… that person happens to read this post. I even saw a few things Steven might like to purchase for me.

I plan to return to MVCA when I can take my time and enjoy the exhibit. It’s all very well to feel artsy, but I also like to look at the art.

Next we walked across the street to Little Falls Antique Center at Stone Mill.  We spent some time browsing there at at The Shops at 25 West.  Cheryl was particularly interested in looking at old lanterns. We saw a few but not exactly what she had in mind. I took a particular interest in looking out the windows at the canal. A lot of the winders there have beautiful wide window sills.

“If I had windows like that in my house,” I said, “I”d put cushions on them and sit there with a book.” I suppose I’ll have to move into a converted factory if I want to implement that interior design inspiration.

I was also interested in some of the items available from the Alpaca place. Cheryl knows where they are located. Perhaps we can make a trip there one day soon, for future blogging purposes.

After we left Little Falls we were feeling peckish so we stopped at Crazy Otto’s Empire diner in Herkimer. Cheryl had never eaten there before, so I was happy to introduce her to one of Steven’s a my favorite spots. When she ordered her grilled cheese sandwich the waiter asked if she wanted fries.

“It comes with the best homemade chips,” I told her. She agreed they were good, and she nicely shared them with me. I had conservatively ordered an English muffin, in case my stomach was still bothering me (I know2, the chips were probably not the best thing on a bad stomach; let’s see YOU resist Crazy Otto’s homemade chips!).

We had a really fun afternoon.  It’s always fun to go adventuring with a sister.

 

Too Many Meanderings

So I had some Mohawk Valley adventures on Saturday. I started to write about one of them this morning, and I got bogged down. No matter, I thought. I can dash off an overview of the afternoon the cover each adventure individually as the week progresses. That did not seem to be working out either. After staring into space and questioning my life choices, I remembered: Monday Mental Meanderings. I can just follow my recalcitrant mind around the page a little, hit Publish and call it a day.

In my defense, I was doing some magazine work. I was revising and polishing (or do I flatter myself?) my articles for Mohawk Valley Living magazine, for which the deadline is tomorrow. I got them emailed out, for once forgetting to courtesy copy myself. In my detriment (I guess that’s not the opposite of defense; does anyone have a better suggestion?), I should have gotten those articles done last week and they’re not such brilliant prose at that.

My overall plan is to work more on my writing. Better blog posts, finish that novel. And that play. And the other play. Oh, and at least one interactive murder mystery. And here we come to my problem: I have too many potential projects. My mind won’t seem to settle on any of them. It skitters hither and thither. It — dare I say it? — MEANDERS!

This has become a rather circular post. I can’t seem to write, so I offer a Mental Meanderings Monday. The reason I can’t write is that my mind is meandering. Got that? If so, I shall hit Publish and call it a day.

Got One Thing Done!

It’s another Scattered Saturday post, as I reach the end of the day and must publish SOMETHING before my husband gets home from work and we begin an enjoyable evening together. Once again I had myriad plans to do this that and the other thing, and blog topics ranging from the marvelous to the perfectly acceptable… and here I am, kind of wishing I had made another pot of coffee instead of just heating up the 3/4 cup that was still in the pot.

Where was I? Ah yes, nowhere in particular. When we last left our heroine (that’s me), she was on her way to what promised to be a very fun evening of friends and theatre (OK, enough with the third person, it’s awkward). It was a fun evening, which ended way later than my normal bed time. As a result, I woke with a headache and got a slow start to my morning.

I managed to write a few post cards and finish two letters. Tabby, my dear schnoodle, and I walked to the post office. Oh, what a nice walk. Still chilly out, but we survived. Then I headed into Rome, getting a later start than I had envisioned.

My destination was my parents’ house, where I intended to attempt to register for the Boilermaker on their computer (a more reliable machine than my desktop). The original plan had been to have a couple of Mohawk Valley adventures along the way, but registering was the only one I had. Yet what a satisfying experience it was!

The Boilermaker, for the initiated, is Utica, NY’s 15K road race. Oh, it is an experience and then some. This will be the fourth time I have run it. Come to think of it, I need to write a whole blog post just about me registering.

In the meantime, Steven is home and I must get on with my Saturday night. I hope you’re all having an enjoyable weekend.

Not Like a Snake Eating its Tail

Earlier today I was in the midst of a Mohawk Valley adventure and I was narrating in my head and I narrated the phrase, “I continued to narrate in my head…” And that amused me so much I stopped narrating in my head and contemplated how writing a blog has changed my inner monologue. I thought when I wrote my blog post I would mention how I narrated in my head that I was narrating in my head.

Just a quick question: is this like a snake eating its own tail? In other words, is it a sign I’m reaching the end of my usefulness as a blogger? SAY IT AIN’T SO!!!

I believe in fact it ain’t so, but doesn’t it make a good lead for a Wrist to Forehead Sunday post?

Steven and I had rather a delightful afternoon and evening yesterday. So delightful that I have had a bad headache all day today. At least, I’m guessing it is because I drank too much wine. I’m kind of hoping it is, because that means it will go away eventually. But it is a little embarrassing to admit to all and sundry that I overindulged (listen to me, all and sundry, like I have that many readers! Get over yourself, Cindy!).

So, yes, this is Yet Another Post About How I Can’t Write A Blog Post Today. I’ll keep it short. After all, perhaps my readers are having a Wrist to Forehead Sunday too and who wants to read a long blog post? Not me. Hope to see you Monday, when I hope NOT to type, “I had meant to write a real blog post today, BUT…”

I Say: Better than Whiskey

OK, so we’re all agreed that it’s all right if I do foolish posts till the play is over on Sunday. Um, I may also need Monday to recover from the cast party. In any case, today is Lame Post Friday, so we knew I wouldn’t be sweating it too much if today is, well, lame.

I had hoped for a marginally non-lame post. I thought I might do a minor preview of coming attractions, especially since I am planning to have at least one Mohawk Valley adventure tomorrow before the play. This quickly became a source of stress to me when I realized that although I plan to have an adventure, I do not actually have an adventure planned. How about a little half-baked philosophy about that?

Sometimes the best adventures are unplanned. I can’t think of an example offhand, but I’m sure that is a well-known contention, beloved by many. Or is it just a rationalization for people who have not planned? How many times have you said, “Well, that was an adventure,” just to make yourself feel better? Oh, I suppose YOU never did (you know who you are). I’m not talking to you.

And here is another half-baked philosophical question: Why are some people so down on rationalizations when sometimes they make you feel so much better? Aren’t mental gymnastics better than drugs? Shall I rationalize that faux pas or just have a shot of whiskey? MMmmm… whiskey. Better not have any of that before tonight’s performance.

For local readers I will just repeat: it’s Busybody at Ilion Little Theatre, Ilion, NY. Click on the link for more information (I was so proud of myself when I learned how to make a link). And happy Friday, everyone.

Monday Misadventure

Hands up, whoever thought that with the play in production I would immediately return to making “real” posts? Heads down in shame, all of you who are pointing and laughing because you knew darn well I would not. I don’t mean you should feel ashamed because I am about to do a brilliant post about a Mohawk Valley adventure. I just don’t like it when people point and laugh.

I had thought to do a Middle-aged Musings Monday today, but a considerate co-worker brought me a copy of the new issue of Mohawk Valley Living, and I spent my lunch hour reading that instead of writing a blog post. I will instead type in a few words about the bad weather adventure I had after work today. By adventure, I’m afraid I mean misadventure.

The Mohawk Valley is having a winter storm, as is much of the northeast. It is cold and has been snowing like a sonofabitch all day (I love to say things are doing something like a sonofabitch). I suppose this made a bit of a change from the straight cold weather we have been having, but perhaps I am being too glass-half-full.

My misadventure began, as many of my misadventures do, with me thinking I am being clever. I left work and drove to my husband’s place of employment, to switch vehicles. This meant my SUV would be last in the driveway tomorrow morning, when I leave for work prior to 5 a.m. It further meant that Steven would have the 4-wheel drive for coming home after 6 p.m. After all, it was continuing to snow.

I could get the little old Stratus into the driveway. Just swing wide and power it through, right? Turns out, not so much. In my defense, I have not driven a vehicle this size since 1989, when I had a 10-year-old Pinto I fondly called Feather Car. Of course I got hung up at the end of the driveway. I felt I had a small blessing in that the car was completely out of the road at least. I turned it off, got out and grabbed a shovel.

I shoveled, tried to move the car, repeat. Things were not going well. I thought a good push would help. But there was only one of me. Then I saw my across the street neighbor shoveling his own driveway. He is a strapping young man, and a very nice one. I went over and asked his help. I wanted to ask him to drive the car while I pushed, because it is my car after all, but that seemed a little silly given our relative sizes.

He told me to back the car all the way out, which I did without getting hung up in the snowbank. Phew! He shoveled out where the car had been and told me to try it again. I felt really bad about this, because dammit, I am supposed to shovel my own driveway. Before I pulled the car back in I brushed off the windows again. I perhaps should have done that before I pulled back out of the driveway, but one does not always behave in the ideal fashion.

After my neighbor’s efforts with the shovel, I got the car in the driveway. I thanked him profusely. What a great neighbor! He asked me was I all set. I assured him that I was. I shoveled a bit more, including a short area in the back for Tabby’s business meetings.

Other areas have gotten more snow than I did. Other people have bigger driveways to shovel. Other bad weather travails outweigh mine. Other people do not have nice neighbors to help them. Well, I never said I was Job. I’m just telling you a little story about my day. I hope you’ll tune in tomorrow, which will be Tuesday but I hope not Tired Tuesday.

In My Defense, It’s Cold!

Here’s a new feature: Saturday Misadventures. It is for those numerous Saturdays when I do not have Saturday Running Commentary but instead type down a few paragraphs of what I did instead of write a good blog post.

When we got up this morning it was one degree out according to our thermostat. I don’t know where it gets this information; the thermostat came with the new furnace. I would get one of those jobs with the big numbers to hang on the garage like my parents have, but I don’t have a window handy for looking out at the garage. If I’m going to open the door anyways, what do I need a thermometer for?

Come to think of it, I did open the door, to get the newspaper (LOVE my newspaper deliverers!). Yikes! I made sure to replace the doodads under our door meant to keep the draft out (with indifferent success). Still, it was above zero. What could I possibly complain about? Got you there: I am not complaining, I am OBSERVING!

I wrote some postcards, but a walk to the post office was clearly ineligible. I know my dog would eagerly jump and bark if I picked up the leash, but I do not want a frostbitten little pooch. I’ve been limiting her outdoor activity to short business meetings in the back yard.

Still, I could not stay home under the blankets as was my inclination. I had to put air in one tire and I had to gas up. And I had to leave my vehicle in the street, because I leave for the theatre after Steven gets home tonight. I’m in a play, remember (see yesterday’s post, among others). As the temperature rose to 2 degrees, my hopes rose proportionately.

As it turns out, for no good reason. I did not do anything blogworthy. And my brain is too frozen to remember any of the blogworthy things I did previously but have not written about yet. I feel properly ashamed of myself, but I must not repine. I have a show to put on later.

Hope to see you on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

The Play is Definitely the Thing

For the next two weeks I expect to be obsessed. This is perhaps not a good thing for the blog, especially since I had a number of Mohawk Valley adventures in the last few days, which I would very much like to write about. However, I just returned from rehearsal and the play is on my mind (I bet you thought I was going to say, “The play’s the thing.” Well, I don’t have to indulge in every cliche, do I?).

We ran the whole show. It is not the first time we ran it; that was last Sunday. Did it go well? I think it did. I called for line a few times. I messed up a few times. Maybe several. I wasn’t counting. The funny thing is I have to have a cockney accent for my character. When we stopped running the play I kept talking in the accent. The director told me I have to slow down on one dramatic line. I tried a few times then said, “I’ll practice it at ‘ome!” Maybe you had to be there.

One kind of discouraging thing is when the director tells you to do something you were trying to do already. Damn! It didn’t work! I have to try harder. One thing I strive to do, though, is listen to direction. I have worked with actors who want to argue with everything. “I just don’t see the character that way,” they say, among other things. There is nobody like that in this cast. Phew!

I guess posts about rehearsal are not that exciting. Well, I don’t want to give away too much about the play, in case local readers want to come see it (and I hope they do). Perhaps I can manage a post or two about my recent Mohawk Valley adventures. We’ll see what tomorrow will bring.

A Serendipitous Snack

I first heard of That Little Place on Main in Little Falls, NY some time ago when I visited the Little Falls Historical Society. The intern said her father recently opened it (it came up in a conversation). The Place had already closed that day, and I did not make it back to Little Falls at a compatible time until recently.

Full disclosure: I did not go to Little Falls specifically to go to That Little Place on Main. My friend Phyllis and I were adventuring with no set plan. We thought we would stop somewhere sometime for a cup of coffee and a snack. While driving down Main Street, I saw it! And the Open sign was lit up! I pulled right into a parking space almost directly in front of the Place. How’s that for serendipitous?

Inside was a traditional, homey diner with a long counter and booths. I saw more seating available in a small back room. We sat at a booth and looked at the Specials Board till the waitress brought us menus.

I got a piece of cheesecake while Phyllis ordered French fries. We both had coffee. The cheesecake was delicious. I helped Phyllis finish her fries, because they gave her a heaping mound of them. Yum! The waitress kept our coffee full. I made plans to return soon and bring my husband Steve.

That Little Place on Main is located at 28 W. Main St., Little Falls, NY. Phone number is 315-508-5083. They also have a Facebook page which features photographs of delicious-looking food. I think I’m going to have to make this Place a regular stop.