A Warm Welcome
Hello World,
Well, it does no good to complain about July in New York, heaven knows, it's not like it could be considered a big surprise at this point, and caught us all off guard, as if we should have all been expecting something different. But this last week has certainly been one for the books, even by New York standards, and really got the attention of even the jaded old-timers, and I don't mean that in a good way, believe me. The temperatures were in triple digits, with drenching humidity that was like being hit in the face with a runaway steam locomotive, and that's not just a lot of Casey Jones, by golly. In spite of the heat and humidity, there were no thunderstorms as there usually would be in these conditions, so after a week of scorching days and torrid nights, the flowers everywhere were drooping, our cats lost their appetites, and all over the house, all of the doors and windows were sticking, so that if it was open, you couldn't close it, and if it was closed, I can tell you, it was going to stay closed and no buts about it. This was no weather for sissies, and I think even Casey Jones would agree there was nothing left after this but fire and brimstone, so at least in the local area, I would warn everyone to be on the lookout for hand-baskets, and devil take the hind-most.
In spite of the challenging conditions, I'm happy to report - perhaps "flabbergasted" might be the better term under the circumstances - that the Flag Brigade once again rose to the occasion on Sunday, and ran up the colors upstairs and downstairs for Independence Day, not only putting the flags out in the morning, but also remembering to take them in again after dinner. With the heat and humidity off the charts as it was, and the poor addled brain cells of the Flag Brigade being what they are, heaven knows, this is not something to be taken for granted, not by any means. And the local environs were much livened up with some welcome patriotic embellishment, to the enjoyment of all, as well as a rousing sight to see, for neighbors and visitors alike. Now, it must be said that Sunday was a beautiful day, with not a cloud in the sky, so there was no possible danger of the flags getting wet from any sort of inclement weather, as on Flag Day last month. Well, except for the fact that all of the plants in the yard were wilting from the heat, so that I had no choice but to get out there and water them with the hose, and somehow ended up watering the flags while I was at it, which was a little bit of collateral damage that I wasn't expecting, owing to their proximity to the plants that needed watering. I admit this was a novelty in our flag-waving experiences that doesn't usually happen, and I can't say that it had all that much to recommend it. Of course, everyone knows that I'm no fan of moveable feasts, and July 4th is certainly not one of them in my opinion, but we were off from work on Monday, July 5th, so the Flag Brigade figured we may as well put out the flags on Monday as well, and what the heck. You know I always say, there's no such thing as too much red, white and blue around here, that's for sure, and it was another lovely day for flying the colors, and long may they wave.
Earlier in the week, I got a frantic call from Administration at our sister institution in Mount Vernon, which began with them shouting about a delivery that they just received of a brand new infant warmer. Inasmuch as it was 100 degrees at the time, and 85 in my office even with the air conditioner and fan on, I found it a little hard to get worked up about this situation. In fact, what I found myself saying was, "By golly, that's just what we need on a day like today - let's fire that thing right up." Frankly, my feeling was that if they needed an infant warmer for any patients at the time, all they would need to do is carry them outside into the parking lot, and they'd be as warm as they could possibly want, and then some. After all, I believe even Casey Jones would agree that there would be nothing left after that except fire and brimstone, and I'm thinking that no one really wants to go down that route if there's any way to avoid it. Say, where did that hand-basket come from?
With July already underway, Saturday was the time for us to get our plaid on, as we headed north for the 87th Annual Round Hill Highland Games at scenic Cranbury Park in Norwalk. We already knew the date, and made the mistake of assuming that everything else would be pretty much the same as the previous year, so we were content to let our GPS guide us to the sprawling corporate office park, where we expected to meet the shuttle bus in the parking lot that would take us to our final destination. To be fair, the GPS did a serviceable job of getting us there, and in plenty of time, the only fly in the ointment was that there was no bus, and no indications that there was going to be any - no signs, no people waiting, no tables set up to sell tickets or programs, nothing but empty parking spaces as far as the eye could see. Fortunately, the GPS was equal to the challenge of finding its way directly to Cranbury Park from there, and sure enough, they let us park right on the grounds for the first time in probably 10 years that we've been going there. I said to Bill that even after 87 years, it always seems to be a new adventure with these games, and we obviously need to be sure and check their web site each time before we go, just to keep up with the changes. There was much that hadn't changed, and there were many of the usual bands and clans on parade, plus individual competitions in highland dancing, bagpipes and drums, plus family activities like races and tug-of-war, and the professional sports of caber toss, hammer throw and sheaf toss. Of course, they also allow amateurs to try their luck at these "heavyweight" games, which is an idea that probably sounds a lot more logical after a few too many beers, and it always surprises me that there aren't more injuries when these deluded novices take the plunge. I suppose this just goes to prove that whoever is the patron saint of watching over inebriated people doing stupid things must be working overtime at the games.
There were plenty of clan tents set up to greet their kin, and more vendor tents than there are sometimes, although it must be said that some favorites from previous years were among the missing. But welcome among the usual food options was the return of CC's Spiral Potatoes, who had been there for one year in the past, and then we didn't see them again, so it was nice to have them back. New for the first time was Bayside West Catering, with fresh squeezed lemonade that was delicious and refreshing, and roasted corn that was an interesting change of pace from the usual fare. One thing that never seems to change is how many bands march onto the field after being introduced, playing Scotland the Brave, and often, three or four of them in a row. It's like going to a Memorial Day parade, and every high school band plays the national anthem, after a while, it just gets to be too much of a good thing. Mind you, this is after centuries of Scottish history, where there is plenty of bagpipe music to choose from, and no reason for every other band to pick the same exact song, until you're just about ready to go stark raving plaid. We took a new approach to it this year, and treated it like the famous drinking game from the old Bob Newhart Show. We didn't have anything to drink, but every time we heard Scotland the Brave, we would say, "Hi Bob!" It didn't cut down on the quantity of the tune during the day, but it did take some of the sting out of it for us.
A returning highlight of the festivities was our favorite Celtic fusion band, Mac Talla M'or, back for a return engagement, and up to their usual standards. You would think that adding more bagpipes to a celebration of Scottish heritage would be like carrying coals to Newcastle, but actually, Mac Talla M'or is more of a refreshing change of pace from the regular marching bands, since it also includes electric guitar, organ and vocals, besides just pipes and drums. We were glad for a chance to see them once again, since we very rarely get out to hear live music, especially not in such an intimate setting, where you're basically sitting right at their feet in the woods. There were two shows, so their devoted fans did not leave disappointed, and for us, it took an event that we already enjoy, and brought it to a whole new level. The highlands, you might call it. Anyway, after a long and eventful day, we packed it in and jumped right in our car, since we didn't have to wait for the shuttle bus and the slow hot ride back to the corporate office park along the highway. From there, it was off to Denny's in Danbury for dinner, and no one had to ask us twice, believe me. Everything was delicious, and we packed it away like we hadn't seen food in a month, and had been living in a cardboard box out on the sidewalk until just that very moment. I think even Casey Jones would agree that the day could not have been improved, even if Bob Newhart himself had shown up, and that's not just a lot of red hot chili pipers, by golly.
Alert readers may be wondering, if July 4th and even the Scottish Games have come and gone, can my vacation be far behind, and the answer is absolutely not. HOORAY!!! In fact, I'll be going on vacation starting on Saturday, and nobody will be hearing from me for a week, since I'm not even taking my laptop with me. It will be a week of fun in the sun for me, at least I hope it will be sunny, because camping in the rain has nothing to recommend it, and I ought to know. I'm not really worried about being too cold, but I figure I may as well pack my infant warmer, just to be on the safe side.
Elle
Well, it does no good to complain about July in New York, heaven knows, it's not like it could be considered a big surprise at this point, and caught us all off guard, as if we should have all been expecting something different. But this last week has certainly been one for the books, even by New York standards, and really got the attention of even the jaded old-timers, and I don't mean that in a good way, believe me. The temperatures were in triple digits, with drenching humidity that was like being hit in the face with a runaway steam locomotive, and that's not just a lot of Casey Jones, by golly. In spite of the heat and humidity, there were no thunderstorms as there usually would be in these conditions, so after a week of scorching days and torrid nights, the flowers everywhere were drooping, our cats lost their appetites, and all over the house, all of the doors and windows were sticking, so that if it was open, you couldn't close it, and if it was closed, I can tell you, it was going to stay closed and no buts about it. This was no weather for sissies, and I think even Casey Jones would agree there was nothing left after this but fire and brimstone, so at least in the local area, I would warn everyone to be on the lookout for hand-baskets, and devil take the hind-most.
In spite of the challenging conditions, I'm happy to report - perhaps "flabbergasted" might be the better term under the circumstances - that the Flag Brigade once again rose to the occasion on Sunday, and ran up the colors upstairs and downstairs for Independence Day, not only putting the flags out in the morning, but also remembering to take them in again after dinner. With the heat and humidity off the charts as it was, and the poor addled brain cells of the Flag Brigade being what they are, heaven knows, this is not something to be taken for granted, not by any means. And the local environs were much livened up with some welcome patriotic embellishment, to the enjoyment of all, as well as a rousing sight to see, for neighbors and visitors alike. Now, it must be said that Sunday was a beautiful day, with not a cloud in the sky, so there was no possible danger of the flags getting wet from any sort of inclement weather, as on Flag Day last month. Well, except for the fact that all of the plants in the yard were wilting from the heat, so that I had no choice but to get out there and water them with the hose, and somehow ended up watering the flags while I was at it, which was a little bit of collateral damage that I wasn't expecting, owing to their proximity to the plants that needed watering. I admit this was a novelty in our flag-waving experiences that doesn't usually happen, and I can't say that it had all that much to recommend it. Of course, everyone knows that I'm no fan of moveable feasts, and July 4th is certainly not one of them in my opinion, but we were off from work on Monday, July 5th, so the Flag Brigade figured we may as well put out the flags on Monday as well, and what the heck. You know I always say, there's no such thing as too much red, white and blue around here, that's for sure, and it was another lovely day for flying the colors, and long may they wave.
Earlier in the week, I got a frantic call from Administration at our sister institution in Mount Vernon, which began with them shouting about a delivery that they just received of a brand new infant warmer. Inasmuch as it was 100 degrees at the time, and 85 in my office even with the air conditioner and fan on, I found it a little hard to get worked up about this situation. In fact, what I found myself saying was, "By golly, that's just what we need on a day like today - let's fire that thing right up." Frankly, my feeling was that if they needed an infant warmer for any patients at the time, all they would need to do is carry them outside into the parking lot, and they'd be as warm as they could possibly want, and then some. After all, I believe even Casey Jones would agree that there would be nothing left after that except fire and brimstone, and I'm thinking that no one really wants to go down that route if there's any way to avoid it. Say, where did that hand-basket come from?
With July already underway, Saturday was the time for us to get our plaid on, as we headed north for the 87th Annual Round Hill Highland Games at scenic Cranbury Park in Norwalk. We already knew the date, and made the mistake of assuming that everything else would be pretty much the same as the previous year, so we were content to let our GPS guide us to the sprawling corporate office park, where we expected to meet the shuttle bus in the parking lot that would take us to our final destination. To be fair, the GPS did a serviceable job of getting us there, and in plenty of time, the only fly in the ointment was that there was no bus, and no indications that there was going to be any - no signs, no people waiting, no tables set up to sell tickets or programs, nothing but empty parking spaces as far as the eye could see. Fortunately, the GPS was equal to the challenge of finding its way directly to Cranbury Park from there, and sure enough, they let us park right on the grounds for the first time in probably 10 years that we've been going there. I said to Bill that even after 87 years, it always seems to be a new adventure with these games, and we obviously need to be sure and check their web site each time before we go, just to keep up with the changes. There was much that hadn't changed, and there were many of the usual bands and clans on parade, plus individual competitions in highland dancing, bagpipes and drums, plus family activities like races and tug-of-war, and the professional sports of caber toss, hammer throw and sheaf toss. Of course, they also allow amateurs to try their luck at these "heavyweight" games, which is an idea that probably sounds a lot more logical after a few too many beers, and it always surprises me that there aren't more injuries when these deluded novices take the plunge. I suppose this just goes to prove that whoever is the patron saint of watching over inebriated people doing stupid things must be working overtime at the games.
There were plenty of clan tents set up to greet their kin, and more vendor tents than there are sometimes, although it must be said that some favorites from previous years were among the missing. But welcome among the usual food options was the return of CC's Spiral Potatoes, who had been there for one year in the past, and then we didn't see them again, so it was nice to have them back. New for the first time was Bayside West Catering, with fresh squeezed lemonade that was delicious and refreshing, and roasted corn that was an interesting change of pace from the usual fare. One thing that never seems to change is how many bands march onto the field after being introduced, playing Scotland the Brave, and often, three or four of them in a row. It's like going to a Memorial Day parade, and every high school band plays the national anthem, after a while, it just gets to be too much of a good thing. Mind you, this is after centuries of Scottish history, where there is plenty of bagpipe music to choose from, and no reason for every other band to pick the same exact song, until you're just about ready to go stark raving plaid. We took a new approach to it this year, and treated it like the famous drinking game from the old Bob Newhart Show. We didn't have anything to drink, but every time we heard Scotland the Brave, we would say, "Hi Bob!" It didn't cut down on the quantity of the tune during the day, but it did take some of the sting out of it for us.
A returning highlight of the festivities was our favorite Celtic fusion band, Mac Talla M'or, back for a return engagement, and up to their usual standards. You would think that adding more bagpipes to a celebration of Scottish heritage would be like carrying coals to Newcastle, but actually, Mac Talla M'or is more of a refreshing change of pace from the regular marching bands, since it also includes electric guitar, organ and vocals, besides just pipes and drums. We were glad for a chance to see them once again, since we very rarely get out to hear live music, especially not in such an intimate setting, where you're basically sitting right at their feet in the woods. There were two shows, so their devoted fans did not leave disappointed, and for us, it took an event that we already enjoy, and brought it to a whole new level. The highlands, you might call it. Anyway, after a long and eventful day, we packed it in and jumped right in our car, since we didn't have to wait for the shuttle bus and the slow hot ride back to the corporate office park along the highway. From there, it was off to Denny's in Danbury for dinner, and no one had to ask us twice, believe me. Everything was delicious, and we packed it away like we hadn't seen food in a month, and had been living in a cardboard box out on the sidewalk until just that very moment. I think even Casey Jones would agree that the day could not have been improved, even if Bob Newhart himself had shown up, and that's not just a lot of red hot chili pipers, by golly.
Alert readers may be wondering, if July 4th and even the Scottish Games have come and gone, can my vacation be far behind, and the answer is absolutely not. HOORAY!!! In fact, I'll be going on vacation starting on Saturday, and nobody will be hearing from me for a week, since I'm not even taking my laptop with me. It will be a week of fun in the sun for me, at least I hope it will be sunny, because camping in the rain has nothing to recommend it, and I ought to know. I'm not really worried about being too cold, but I figure I may as well pack my infant warmer, just to be on the safe side.
Elle
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 8:11 PM
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