Park Pass

Hello World,

Happy New Year! Here's hoping that 2012 will be a banner year for everyone, just stuffed to the gills with happiness, friendliness and wonderfulness for all - in fact, so over-stuffed that they'll have to tack on a whole extra day just to fit it all in. 2012 is a Leap Year, of course, so we have that to look forward to in February. And as we all know, any month that starts on a Sunday, as January did, will feature a Friday the 13th in the second week, one of three that will be coming up this year also in April and July, so prepare to be on the lookout for those. I suppose the general idea would be to steer clear of mirrors, ladders, black cats and other harbingers of ill fortune - or you could just stay in bed and pull the covers over your head, making the bad luck work twice as hard to catch you in the first place. That may be considered the moral low road, but hey, I say if the bad luck can't find you, that's just too bad. Luck, that is.

Well, it's really true that Christmas has finally come and gone, much to the chagrin of retailers all over the world, who might wish that the buying frenzy would just keep going on and on like that the whole year through. (The credit card companies would love it too, I'm thinking, not to mention the President's economic advisers, it goes without saying.) We were on our own for the big day, as our family was otherwise engaged, and we had a chance to savor all the delights of the day at our own pace. We even got to have a nice leisurely breakfast, rather than just scarfing down junk food out of our stockings. The cats came to see what all the excitement was about, and were glad that they did, after we broke out the special treats and catnip toys that Santa's elves had thoughtfully provided for the occasion. Two of our cats were new to Christmas, while the others are already seasoned campaigners in the yuletide theater, but catnip seems to be the universal language that speaks to the young and old alike. Under the tree were the usual gifts of technology, apparel, entertainment, jewelry, and assorted whatnot, and you can believe me when I say that I have the videotape to prove it. Not to mention my commendation from the President's economic advisers for sparing no expense in the holiday lollapalooza, and that's not just a lot of pine cones and holly berries, believe me.

On the last day of the year, we journeyed to Long Island to celebrate Christmas II The Sequel with my sister, whose work schedule made her unavailable at Christmas, when the rest of the world was observing it on the previous Sunday. Even though it was New Year's Eve (albeit during the daytime) it was a spectacular day, around 60 degrees with bright sunshine, and about as unlike December in New York as a day could possibly get, and still be in this solar system. We jumped at the opportunity to visit the Norman J. Levy Park & Preserve on the site of the former Merrick Landfill, which was closed for dumping in 1984 and re-opened in 2000 as a county park. It still maintains a recycling sorting center, but its chief attraction is as the highest point on the south shore of Nassau County, at 115-feet with glorious 360 degree vistas of everything far and wide. The 50-acre park has over 3 miles of trails, wetlands, a fishing pier, exercise course and natural amphitheater for exhibits. Over 200 species of birds have been spotted there, in addition to the resident goats and guinea fowl that help keep the vegetation in check, and prove to be endlessly amusing to visitors. We did not have this idea alone, as the park was filled with joggers and hikers out in T-shirts and shorts, a December rarity that we could only marvel at. The friendly Park Rangers are happy to give tours in their peppy electric tram, and we hopped aboard to see all the sights, including the windmill at the very top. Everything they say about the panoramic view is true, and nothing of an exaggeration - with the Manhattan skyline, the bridges of Queens and Brooklyn, Jones Beach on the ocean, and countless bays in every direction. Because Long Island is flat as a table, they say you can see over 20 water towers in different towns on all sides. We were simply enthralled with the whole experience, and I'm sure the poor Park Ranger despaired of ever getting rid of us after the tour. He didn't realize that he had an unlikely ally, because we had plans for lunch at Denny's, and although it was a near thing, that was about the only incentive that could get us to leave the park on such a beautiful day. Unfortunately, we found that the ogres at Denny's had tweaked their menu to eliminate or alter some of our favorite selections, and it came as a bitter disappointment to me that their delectable Hawaiian Tropical Smoothie has been discontinued by the chain, thanks not. Of course, if we had known that ahead of time, we'd still be at the park now, so at least we made the Park Rangers happy, if nothing else.

Meanwhile at work, since the Feast of the Epiphany was on Friday, it meant taking down all of the seasonal decorations from the department, and the scoffers may jeer (and the jeerers may scoff while they're at it) but it really did happen that they all came down and were all put away in their assorted bags and boxes, and returned to the shelf in the closet for another year. The new little wall tree was good as gold, and all I had to do was pull it off the wall, roll it up and stuff it back in its own handy little bag, as easy as sugar-plum pie. I have no idea what everyone is going to talk about without the wandering Christmas tree to kick around for months in our spare offices this time around, but they can just go ahead and blame the consultants and not me. It turns out that it's a good thing that I came up with the idea for the wall tree instead of the regular table-top tree on its rolling bedside cabinet, because I found out later that I can't get the bedside cabinet out of my closet anymore, and once again to the consultants, thanks so very much not. They not only took over all of our spare offices, but re-arranged our furniture and threw out our file cabinets, so I had to snatch two of the discards and secrete them somewhere in my office so I would have space for my files. One of them is next to my desk, and effectively cuts off the escape route of the bedside cabinet from the closet, so now I can't get the holiday tree's cabinet out of the closet without moving the whole file cabinet first. So it was fortuitous that I already had a contingency plan, because it takes more than a bunch of "Grinch-ultants" to spoil my holiday spirit, and that's not just the eggnog talking, believe me.

In other holiday news, alert readers will be glad to hear that the long-winded porch project finally shuddered to a close in fits and starts, and after the rigorous efforts of the landscaping crew, even most of the construction debris is a thing of the past, with scarcely a loose nail, screw, clamp, bucket, rope, shingle, tarp, scrap wood or shard of glass remaining to be seen. Even the busted-up gutters and downspouts have been carted off, and fresh gravel applied to the driveway, which was nothing but a post-apocalyptic wasteland mere days before. So as they say in college football, you can stick a fork in this one, because it's done. With all that's been going on lately, and trying to get ready for the holidays, Bill thought the thing to do would be to get one of those prefabricated gingerbread house kits that you just assemble from parts, rather than making his own from scratch as usual. However, the kit failed the first test of a gingerbread house - which was standing up by itself with four walls and a roof - and turned into a much bigger headache than it was worth. But thanks to Bill's ingenuity, it did sport a lovely new porch addition on one side, including an original shingle fragment for its tiny roof, to thrill the hearts of Mr. and Mrs. Gingerbread in their leisure moments in the great sugar-frosted outdoors. Now that the porch project has been wrapped up, at least we have a gingerbread memento to commemorate it with. Next year, I say we hire the contractors to come back and build the gingerbread house, and at least then we know it wouldn't fall down, by golly, it wouldn't dare. Of course, then we'd have no choice but to hire the landscaping crew to come here and spend an entire day to clean up all the broken glass, before poor Mr. and Mrs. Gingerbread would be able to use their driveway again, sugar-frosting or not.

Elle