Yes, We Have No Bananas
Hello World,
And so here we find ourselves, already well on our way towards the end of January, as incredible as that might seem, and don't think I don't know what you're all thinking out there. Isn't it about time for someone to be wishing us all a Happy Chinese New Year? Au contraire! (That's French for "Hong Kong Bok Choy!") People waiting for the opportunity to welcome in the Year of the Fizza-ma-Wizza-ma-Dill might be disappointed to find out that this year, Chinese New Year isn't scheduled to happen until around the middle of February. So we're all going to have to find some other way to entertain ourselves until then, and heaven knows, there's little enough of that in the thick of January around here. Of course, there's always the weather to complain about, and last week was no exception, as we finally got some sub-freezing temperatures and even a dusting of snow. In fact, the other morning when the outdoor conditions were at a bracing 17 degrees, Bill noticed that the little plastic birdbath was frozen, as well as the decorative fountain being pressed into service as a birdbath, and he remarked that both of the new birdbath heaters must not be working. Au contraire! (That's French for "Shiver me timbers!") I said that I had every confidence that the new birdbath heaters worked fine, as they were still in their unopened boxes and packed away with the rest of the Christmas presents that hadn't been used yet. There's no sense rushing into these things, I always say.
Speaking of rushing into things, so far this has turned into another year where, in my efforts to take down the Christmas decorations in Purchasing in a timely fashion, I rolled the tree out of the hallway and into a spare office instead of actually taking off the ornaments and putting it away. This year, I fully intend to really undecorate it and pack it away in its various boxes, although that hasn't happened yet. Last year, I knew I would just be hallucinating to think that, so I rolled it into the closet fully decorated and just left it there, but things are better this year, and I have higher expectations in post-holiday productivity. One thing that hasn't changed since last year is that moving it out of the hallway seems to turn it into a magnet for people all over the campus to flock to its irresistible allure. People from other departments, who have no reason to be in our spare office, go in there and announce, "Oh look, it's your Christmas tree!" as if we were previously unaware of where it had wandered off to, and were just waiting for someone to point out where we'd misplaced it. I can safely state that as a conversational gambit, a traveling Christmas tree is hard to beat, try as I might.
While we're on the subject of Christmas, everyone knows that the Yuletide season is not well and truly over until we've been to visit our friends around Albany for the Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend and celebrated our own little mini-Christmas in January with them. So we left work early last Friday and packed up the car to head north, with our presents and the usual two tons of paraphernalia that we regularly carry along. The trip north was uneventful, and when we stopped at a rest area, we found that the unseasonably warm weather had eliminated that mainstay of our travels, the tour bus full of skiers. There wasn't a ski or a snow goggle to be seen from one end of the rest area to the other, and we couldn't remember that ever happening before. Frankly, it was sad seeing the ski resort operators on the side of the road with signs saying, "Will Work For Snow."
Our friends greeted us with open arms, and the hospitality that is their trademark, leaving up their Christmas decorations for us to enjoy and making us feel as welcome as Greeks bearing gifts. In fact, we were bearing gifts, and it was after Christmas, just like the Orthodox Greeks, so it was not far off the mark. As long as we were in a Greek frame of mind, we decided to have dinner at Four Brothers, which is a chain of Greek pizzerias in the area, and where it turns out, the Italian specialties on the menu bear only the slightest resemblance to their actual Italian counterparts. But it was served piping hot, and we were hungry, which always manages to cover a multitude of culinary sins in my book, and we made short work of it. After that, we went back and opened presents, which proved to be something of an embarrassment of riches, except for the fact that luckily, I'm not one to be embarrassed by too many presents. Au contraire! (That's French for "The more, the merrier!") It was well after midnight when we went to bed, tired but happy, and looking forward to another fun day on Saturday.
Not so fast! It turned out that our hostess was called in to the hospital in the middle of the night for an emergency case, and spent about four hours there before returning home just before dawn. Meanwhile, I was having an attack from The Revenge of the Greek Ravioli, and was myself up and about in the wee hours, taking Rolaids and walking around trying to settle my stomach. I found I was more comfortable downstairs where it was cooler, and there's a handy couch there where I was resting temporarily. Nothing could have prepared us for what happened next, as our friend walked in from the outdoors, which I wasn't expecting, and saw me on the couch in the basement, which she wasn't expecting, and we both just about jumped out of our skins. If either of us had been holding a banana cream pie at the time, they'd still be peeling that off the ceiling, believe me. After we each apologized for scaring the wits out of the other, we decided to turn in and try to get some more sleep, figuring that we needed it now that the shock had probably taken years off of our lives. And that was without the banana cream pies, mind you.
Saturday morning, we called our other friends and met for lunch at Denny's, which is always a special treat that we look forward to in our travels. Then it was off to Cracker Barrel, where I was disappointed that they had put away their Christmas merchandise, and their Valentine's Day offerings did not include any of the collectible items that I was seeking. After that, we further bolstered the local economy at a nearby mall, and then drove miles out of our way to a bigger Hewitt's garden center than the one we usually patronize, only to find that the bigger one was already closed for the day, of course. Since it was getting late, we put that off for another time, and elected to take our chances with dinner at a new Italian restaurant that had just opened in the area. The food was not exceptional, apart from the carozza, which is an appetizer that is such a rarity on menus, that you would expect it to be made from some exotic and expensive ingredients, instead of bread and cheese. The service was oddly haphazard, considering that when we were there, the staff outnumbered the customers by a wide margin, which does not bode well for its success in the neighborhood. But Saturday was still better than Friday, as we all slept through the night, with no emergencies, digestive upsets or banana cream pies to disturb our slumbers.
It was cold on Sunday morning, which was just enough to frost over the cars, and also the hundreds of tiny, crooked wooden steps that our friends have fiendishly installed in their front yard as a public menace. I out-smarted them this time, by clambering down them on my hands and knees, but not their poor dog, who went nose over tail all the way down, and never knew what hit him. Seriously, if he had been carrying a banana cream pie at the time ..... oh well, you get the idea. So we scraped the ice off the cars and packed up our belongings, so that we could leave directly from our excursions and not have to come back and pick things up. We decided that our friends were much too alert and peppy, so we made them watch our Christmas video, featuring all 10,000 maniacs, I mean, all of our very boring cats and Christmas decorations at home and at work, which did the trick of putting them right to sleep with no trouble at all. We roused them up in time to meet our other friends for lunch at the diner, located handily nearby the bigger Hewitt's that we hoped to get to before they closed for a change. This actually worked out, although we found that their Christmas decorations had been so picked clean that it wasn't really worth the trip, and we probably could have just gone to our usual smaller Hewitt's right from the start, the way things turned out. By the time we left there, it was cold and dark, with little pellets of freezing rain pinging off of the cars in the parking lot, and making us wish for hot chocolate, a crackling fireplace and a toasty afghan to curl up in. We said our farewells and hopped in the car, hoping to drive out of the bad weather as we made our way south. That didn't seem to be the case, and we decided to take the Rhinecliff Bridge and leave the Thruway behind, as the traffic and conditions were considerably less than ideal. Bear in mind that the one galvanizing thought that had kept us going through the whole long ordeal was that we would soon sit down and enjoy a wonderful meal at the only Denny's within 75 miles of home, when we reached the juncture of the connecting highways around Fishkill.
Au contraire! (That's French for, "Put down that banana cream pie!") When we got to the intersection where the Denny's should be, it noticeably wasn't. We drove around for 20 minutes trying to find it, and finally came across its dark and abandoned hulk in an empty parking lot with nothing but the sound of crickets on every side. We were stunned, not to mention crushed, because we had just been at this very Denny's at Thanksgiving weekend, and there was no indication that it was about to fold up its tents, so to speak, and steal away into the night. And yet here we found ourselves, in the dark and hungry, with no Denny's to console ourselves with. We ate at a nearby Wendy's instead, but it was not at all the same thing, and really spoiled that part of our trip home, which is something that we always look forward to with eager anticipation. I said to Bill that the only option I could see would be for him to call and pick a fight with our friends, so that we didn't have to go back and see them again, because the idea of not having dinner at Denny's on the way home was unthinkable.
It was nice to have Monday off from work after all that (thank you, Dr. King!) although the rest of the week followed true to form for short weeks, and we all know how I feel about them by now. But we had a good time with our friends, and made it there and back without incident (except for the Dastardly Disappearing Denny's Disaster!) so I suppose we should count our blessings and not go flying off the handle. Especially not while holding that banana cream pie!
And so here we find ourselves, already well on our way towards the end of January, as incredible as that might seem, and don't think I don't know what you're all thinking out there. Isn't it about time for someone to be wishing us all a Happy Chinese New Year? Au contraire! (That's French for "Hong Kong Bok Choy!") People waiting for the opportunity to welcome in the Year of the Fizza-ma-Wizza-ma-Dill might be disappointed to find out that this year, Chinese New Year isn't scheduled to happen until around the middle of February. So we're all going to have to find some other way to entertain ourselves until then, and heaven knows, there's little enough of that in the thick of January around here. Of course, there's always the weather to complain about, and last week was no exception, as we finally got some sub-freezing temperatures and even a dusting of snow. In fact, the other morning when the outdoor conditions were at a bracing 17 degrees, Bill noticed that the little plastic birdbath was frozen, as well as the decorative fountain being pressed into service as a birdbath, and he remarked that both of the new birdbath heaters must not be working. Au contraire! (That's French for "Shiver me timbers!") I said that I had every confidence that the new birdbath heaters worked fine, as they were still in their unopened boxes and packed away with the rest of the Christmas presents that hadn't been used yet. There's no sense rushing into these things, I always say.
Speaking of rushing into things, so far this has turned into another year where, in my efforts to take down the Christmas decorations in Purchasing in a timely fashion, I rolled the tree out of the hallway and into a spare office instead of actually taking off the ornaments and putting it away. This year, I fully intend to really undecorate it and pack it away in its various boxes, although that hasn't happened yet. Last year, I knew I would just be hallucinating to think that, so I rolled it into the closet fully decorated and just left it there, but things are better this year, and I have higher expectations in post-holiday productivity. One thing that hasn't changed since last year is that moving it out of the hallway seems to turn it into a magnet for people all over the campus to flock to its irresistible allure. People from other departments, who have no reason to be in our spare office, go in there and announce, "Oh look, it's your Christmas tree!" as if we were previously unaware of where it had wandered off to, and were just waiting for someone to point out where we'd misplaced it. I can safely state that as a conversational gambit, a traveling Christmas tree is hard to beat, try as I might.
While we're on the subject of Christmas, everyone knows that the Yuletide season is not well and truly over until we've been to visit our friends around Albany for the Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend and celebrated our own little mini-Christmas in January with them. So we left work early last Friday and packed up the car to head north, with our presents and the usual two tons of paraphernalia that we regularly carry along. The trip north was uneventful, and when we stopped at a rest area, we found that the unseasonably warm weather had eliminated that mainstay of our travels, the tour bus full of skiers. There wasn't a ski or a snow goggle to be seen from one end of the rest area to the other, and we couldn't remember that ever happening before. Frankly, it was sad seeing the ski resort operators on the side of the road with signs saying, "Will Work For Snow."
Our friends greeted us with open arms, and the hospitality that is their trademark, leaving up their Christmas decorations for us to enjoy and making us feel as welcome as Greeks bearing gifts. In fact, we were bearing gifts, and it was after Christmas, just like the Orthodox Greeks, so it was not far off the mark. As long as we were in a Greek frame of mind, we decided to have dinner at Four Brothers, which is a chain of Greek pizzerias in the area, and where it turns out, the Italian specialties on the menu bear only the slightest resemblance to their actual Italian counterparts. But it was served piping hot, and we were hungry, which always manages to cover a multitude of culinary sins in my book, and we made short work of it. After that, we went back and opened presents, which proved to be something of an embarrassment of riches, except for the fact that luckily, I'm not one to be embarrassed by too many presents. Au contraire! (That's French for "The more, the merrier!") It was well after midnight when we went to bed, tired but happy, and looking forward to another fun day on Saturday.
Not so fast! It turned out that our hostess was called in to the hospital in the middle of the night for an emergency case, and spent about four hours there before returning home just before dawn. Meanwhile, I was having an attack from The Revenge of the Greek Ravioli, and was myself up and about in the wee hours, taking Rolaids and walking around trying to settle my stomach. I found I was more comfortable downstairs where it was cooler, and there's a handy couch there where I was resting temporarily. Nothing could have prepared us for what happened next, as our friend walked in from the outdoors, which I wasn't expecting, and saw me on the couch in the basement, which she wasn't expecting, and we both just about jumped out of our skins. If either of us had been holding a banana cream pie at the time, they'd still be peeling that off the ceiling, believe me. After we each apologized for scaring the wits out of the other, we decided to turn in and try to get some more sleep, figuring that we needed it now that the shock had probably taken years off of our lives. And that was without the banana cream pies, mind you.
Saturday morning, we called our other friends and met for lunch at Denny's, which is always a special treat that we look forward to in our travels. Then it was off to Cracker Barrel, where I was disappointed that they had put away their Christmas merchandise, and their Valentine's Day offerings did not include any of the collectible items that I was seeking. After that, we further bolstered the local economy at a nearby mall, and then drove miles out of our way to a bigger Hewitt's garden center than the one we usually patronize, only to find that the bigger one was already closed for the day, of course. Since it was getting late, we put that off for another time, and elected to take our chances with dinner at a new Italian restaurant that had just opened in the area. The food was not exceptional, apart from the carozza, which is an appetizer that is such a rarity on menus, that you would expect it to be made from some exotic and expensive ingredients, instead of bread and cheese. The service was oddly haphazard, considering that when we were there, the staff outnumbered the customers by a wide margin, which does not bode well for its success in the neighborhood. But Saturday was still better than Friday, as we all slept through the night, with no emergencies, digestive upsets or banana cream pies to disturb our slumbers.
It was cold on Sunday morning, which was just enough to frost over the cars, and also the hundreds of tiny, crooked wooden steps that our friends have fiendishly installed in their front yard as a public menace. I out-smarted them this time, by clambering down them on my hands and knees, but not their poor dog, who went nose over tail all the way down, and never knew what hit him. Seriously, if he had been carrying a banana cream pie at the time ..... oh well, you get the idea. So we scraped the ice off the cars and packed up our belongings, so that we could leave directly from our excursions and not have to come back and pick things up. We decided that our friends were much too alert and peppy, so we made them watch our Christmas video, featuring all 10,000 maniacs, I mean, all of our very boring cats and Christmas decorations at home and at work, which did the trick of putting them right to sleep with no trouble at all. We roused them up in time to meet our other friends for lunch at the diner, located handily nearby the bigger Hewitt's that we hoped to get to before they closed for a change. This actually worked out, although we found that their Christmas decorations had been so picked clean that it wasn't really worth the trip, and we probably could have just gone to our usual smaller Hewitt's right from the start, the way things turned out. By the time we left there, it was cold and dark, with little pellets of freezing rain pinging off of the cars in the parking lot, and making us wish for hot chocolate, a crackling fireplace and a toasty afghan to curl up in. We said our farewells and hopped in the car, hoping to drive out of the bad weather as we made our way south. That didn't seem to be the case, and we decided to take the Rhinecliff Bridge and leave the Thruway behind, as the traffic and conditions were considerably less than ideal. Bear in mind that the one galvanizing thought that had kept us going through the whole long ordeal was that we would soon sit down and enjoy a wonderful meal at the only Denny's within 75 miles of home, when we reached the juncture of the connecting highways around Fishkill.
Au contraire! (That's French for, "Put down that banana cream pie!") When we got to the intersection where the Denny's should be, it noticeably wasn't. We drove around for 20 minutes trying to find it, and finally came across its dark and abandoned hulk in an empty parking lot with nothing but the sound of crickets on every side. We were stunned, not to mention crushed, because we had just been at this very Denny's at Thanksgiving weekend, and there was no indication that it was about to fold up its tents, so to speak, and steal away into the night. And yet here we found ourselves, in the dark and hungry, with no Denny's to console ourselves with. We ate at a nearby Wendy's instead, but it was not at all the same thing, and really spoiled that part of our trip home, which is something that we always look forward to with eager anticipation. I said to Bill that the only option I could see would be for him to call and pick a fight with our friends, so that we didn't have to go back and see them again, because the idea of not having dinner at Denny's on the way home was unthinkable.
It was nice to have Monday off from work after all that (thank you, Dr. King!) although the rest of the week followed true to form for short weeks, and we all know how I feel about them by now. But we had a good time with our friends, and made it there and back without incident (except for the Dastardly Disappearing Denny's Disaster!) so I suppose we should count our blessings and not go flying off the handle. Especially not while holding that banana cream pie!
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 8:51 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home