When Your "Go" Is Gone......

Thanksgiving has been a busy four day weekend for us.

Making a squash pie and salad for dinner with Christine's parents and older sister, an afternoon at Doc's spent making Manhattan Clam Chowder, and yesterday morning making a big pan of Tiramisu for a dinner party last night.

By this morning, I was ready to take a break from the kitchen.

So while Chris went to church, I went to the cemetery to visit my mother and brother's graves.

I've found that to be very comforting. I was going to go to Dad's grave, but "Rhondo the Wonder Idiot" blew chunks in his dog pen just before I left. The wiser thing seemed to be to come back to the house here and check on him.

Side note: Dad, I'll come out to the Veteran's Cemetery tomorrow.

As I was driving home, I began to think about lunch. I decided that maybe a nice seafood lunch was in order.

Chris agreed.

We drove over to the place. Business was slow courtesy of the big shopping weekend. We were seated immediately. The food, as always, was first rate from appetizer/salad course through dessert.

It was a very relaxing two and a half hours.

When we arrived home, Chris' youngest daughter was here at the house. She had some paperwork she needed to get in order and needed to use the computer.

I decided to give them some quiet time together. I texted Doc to see if he was going to be around.

Doc's message came back, "Just got done a couple hours of farm work. Going to take a nap."

A nap?

A NAP.

It suddenly dawned on me that I could really use a nap too.

My "Get up and go" had got up and went.

I announced my intentions to Chris.

I think she was jealous.

A nap is a treat. I knew it was the right thing as soon as Doc's text message hit my phone.

I hit the pillow. I do remember a bit of snoring, but not much else.

Two and a half hours later, I felt great.

Thanks for the idea Doc. Hope you were able to get one too.

My best wishes to one and all. I hope your holiday weekend was the best one until your next one.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Saturday Morning Breakdown

No, not *THAT* sort of a breakdown.

Just an update from the last two days.

Thanksgiving turned out to be a pretty good day for Chris and I. She slept in, I posted my blog.

The morning brought some chores for the two of us. I made a squash pie and a salad for dinner at her sister's. "Rhondo the Wonder Idiot" had a standing date with Chris' daughters. They were spending Thanksgiving with their father and step mother this year.

To make sure everybody would keep their appetite, Chris gave Rhondo a bath.

Rhondo smells worse than our good friend and ace reporter, Bloaty the Dog from over there at Air Traffic Mike Heavy Industries, LLC., (the official social think tank of Air Traffic Mike).


"I take offense to that!!!!!!!!!"

"Sorry Bloaty. It's true though. What are you doing in the office today anyway? You guys always get the holidays off."


"I'm getting an early start with Splitty on his holday story."

"I gave Splitty a holiday spot this year?"


"Yeah. Boy is Pope Vinny LXIX really pissed."

"Pope Vinny is ALWAYS pissed."


"That's true. Well, I've got to be going. Have a nice weekend ATM."

"You too, Bloaty."

Always good to see Bloaty. He's been a mainstay here at the blog since the early days.

So anyway, Chris and I head out to pick up her folks and go to her sister's place. Chris's oldest daughter stopped by the house to pick up Rhondo.

Things couldn't be going smoother.

We arrive at our destination. It was a very nice visit. Dinner was outstanding and the company was even better.

After a few hours Chris's parents were ready to go. It was nearing 7:30 pm. With an hour ride ahead of us it was the thing to do.

We drop them off and arrive home. I was kidding Chris that knowing Rhondo's luck, the girls forgot him and he was still at home.

We walked into the house. I went out to the front room to turn the heat up a bit.

Guess who came skulking out?

"Rhondo the Wonder Idiot".

I asked him, "What's wrong, boy?"

He was obviously distraught by something. He doesn't skulk unless he's done something terribly wrong like pee or poop on the floor.

He was skulking at an all time low.

Chris thought I was kidding with her.

Then she walked out and saw Rhondo.

She texted both her daughters. She wanted to check in with them. She also wanted to find out if they'd left their father's, if they'd picked up Rhondo, and if so, what had happened.

No return texts were forthcoming.

Eventually her oldest daughter texted her and said she'd be over soon.

Forty five minutes later, she arrived.

THAT'S when we found out about "Rhondo the Wonder Idiot's" latest adventure.

It seems our boy could use some lessons in dinner manners.

There were a number of fellow dogs at the house, including former pack member "Butter". One would expect that Rhondo would occupy himself with "Butter" and the other dogs. He, in fact, began his visit that very way.

Then, the wheels came off.

Rhondo, it seems, took a "shine" to one of the young children at the dinner.

He is a virile young dog, so when I say "shine", I mean it in the worst possible way.


Pretty much sums it up.

He would not leave the little girl alone to the point that they had to lock Rhondo up in a bedroom by himself.

The "doggy time out" was an epic fail.

Rather than settle down, Rhondo started to whimper and whine. So loudly and pathetically in fact, her daughter had to bring Rhondo back to Chris's house early. She had dropped our hero off and returned to her father's house for dinner.

I should have taken pictures of Rhondo. However, he looked SO pathetic I had to give him a pass on that one.

Yesterday Chris had to go to the office for the afternoon. I stopped by Doc's place and helped him make some Manhattan Clam Chowder.

Perfect soup to make on a cloudy and cool Fall day.

This morning, I'm getting ready to make a pan of Tiramisu for a holiday party this evening.

Due to Rhondo's boorish behavior on Thanksgiving, he's grounded. As such, he will remain home this evening.

So then, I'm going to start the Tiramisu right now.

Remember, holiday calories only count half as much as regular dietary calories.


At least according to "Pope Vinny LXIX".

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Happy Thanksgiving

Meh, hope yours is off to a better start than mine.

It's not that I'm not thankful. I have many blessings, all of which I'm grateful for.

I'm just not appreciative of the start.

Cut to yesterday.


"Rhondo the Wonder Idiot", shown here nursing what appears to be a hangover, started the day by getting ill and hurling unceremoniously on the living room carpet.

Apparently our boy had treated himself to some lawn and leaf scraps.

Why dogs eat grass is the subject of a lot of speculation, none of which I care to engage in this morning.

If the experts can't figure it out, I'm not going to try.

Anyway, Chris discovered the "grass/leaf snack" as she was cleaning up the mess.

I kept an eye on our hero during the day. He ate a bit of his regular food, drank some water, and resumed his normal routine.

By bedtime he seemed fine.

We put him out one last time, let him back in when he was finished, and put him in his kennel for the night.

So we thought.

Around 2:00 am Rhondo started yipping. Aggravating, but not unusual. Just like the rest of us, sometimes you just have to go potty in the middle of the night.

Chris got up and put Rhondo out back on his tether.

Rhondo hit the porch, let out a *yip*, and took off for something in the middle of the yard.

Then the unthinkable happened.

His tether broke.

This was a major problem for a lot of reasons:

1. The town has a "leash law" requiring dogs to be behind a fence or on a leash at all times when outside a home.

2. It WAS 2:00 am, dark and cold.

3. Rhondo handles freedom poorly.

All three added together pretty much put Rhondo in position to cash in his life under the wheels of any motor vehicle that happened to be moving down the street.

Chris grabbed the first shoes she could find and a flashlight.

Things took a turn for the worse as the flashlight didn't work. The final ignominy was the shoes Chris grabbed in the dark were a pair of her pumps.

Off she went, into the dark of night, across slippery grass, in pumps, looking for a dog with a 5 IQ and a head start.

Bad country songs have been written about less.

I saw her run out the door and mutter something about the dead flashlight. I got out of bed, grabbed my pants, and started looking for another flashlight.

I had just stepped into my shoes when the back door opened up. Chris had Rhondo in hand. His tether had snapped about a foot from his collar.

Rhondo was shaking like a leaf. From what, we weren't sure. Either whatever he'd chased had scared him (I'm thinking it probably was a possum), or he figured he was in deep do-do from running off.

I was just ready to go back to bed. Chris put him back in the kennel.

We all settled back in.

Everything was right with the world once again.

Right up until 5:00 am.

Rhondo started yipping again. We'd both had enough of his shenanigans. I got up this time.

"Knock it off, Rhondo!!!, was the terse "Good morning" I gave him.

I went to the kitchen. The latch end of the now shortened tether was sitting on one of the chairs. It then occurred to me that he might not have gone to the bathroom on his last foray if he'd been chasing something.

It took a few moments to cut the broken rope of the latch and reattach it to the remaining tether outside.

By this time Rhondo was whimpering a bit louder. I let him out to do his business, grabbed some ice tea, and figured I'd just stay up.

Rhondo came back in. I let him into the bedroom figuring he might finally settle down.

He did.

At least for the time being.

I fired up my trusty laptop computer and began to read up on the morning's news.

Around 6:00 am I heard a funny noise. It sounded like a water pipe burst. I went over to the sink, looked outside, only to see ice pellets landing on my truck.

Great. Ice pellets on Thanksgiving morning. A Thanksgiving where we'll be driving about an hour to dine with Chris' family.

*sigh*

Then I remembered something important. Something I forgot to do the day before.

I only had about a quarter tank of gas. While that might be enough to get out and back, it's not in my comfort zone when travelling. Especially when travelling with two senior citizens in the form of Chris' parents.

*siiiiiigggghhh*

I got dressed, looked at the ice pellets on the hood of my truck, and headed to the closest gas station. I was hoping against hope that they would be open.

Fortunately, they were.

It didn't take long.

I went back in. It was now around 9:00 am. This is a normal time for Rhondo to go out in the morning.

Rhondo was up on the floor. He's heard me pull in. I placed him on the tether and released him into the ice pellets/rain figuring he wouldn't be too long. A few minutes passed, and he was ready to come back in.

Once again, being a nice guy, I let him back into the bedroom. We keep a "Rhondo sheet" in the bedroom seeing as how he likes to jump up on the bed.

Up he jumped. He seemed happy to be back inside and happy to be getting some attention from us.

Now one thing about "Rhondo the Wonder Idiot" is that he's always been a bit envious of Splitty the Maul.


Recently, Rhondo saw a picture of Splitty down at the beach earlier this year. He said he thought Splitty looked a lot like a rapper in the shot.

This morning I caught him eyeing Splitty's Phillies baseball cap.

I had no sooner turned around in the bedroom when I heard Rhondo say:


"Look ATM, I can be a rap artist just like Splitty!!!!"

I looked over.

Just what I needed this morning, more shenanigans.

*siiiiiiiggggggghhhhhhh

"RHONDO, KNOCK IT OFF!!!!!!! You're already on the poop list this morning!"


"Call me *Thirteen Cents*!!", he said in an almost mocking tone of voice.

I'd had enough. I took Splitty's hat back and returned it to the shelf.

I'm just glad Splitty was still asleep.

Splitty doesn't take kindly to anyone messing with his stuff.

Mauls are funny like that.

Rhondo, slightly disappointed, turned his attention to getting some attention from Chris.

She started scratching his head.

He seemed to enjoy it.

He seemed happy.

Then.................it happened.

Rhondo puked on the "Rhondo sheet".

*siiiiiiiiiigggggggggghhhhhhhhhh*

That's just par for the course today.

Still, I really can't complain too much.

I do have a lot to be thankful for.

Believe me, I really am thankful.

Have a nice Thanksgiving folks. Safe travels to those who are and don't drive if you've had too much gravy.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Sour BCS Grapes

With the TCU and Boise State University football programs both having another fine season, I was wondering just how long it would be before some jerk from a "big" school would shoot his mouth off.

I actually figured it would be after this weekend, but E. Gordon Gee, President of Ohio State University stepped up early.

In this report from the Associated Press, from the ESPN website, President Gee says that neither TCU nor Boise State deserve to play in a BCS Championship game even if they finish with perfect seasons.

I think this quote from the article sums up his expertise and opinion perfectly:

""Well, I don't know enough about the Xs and Os of college football," said Gee, formerly the president at West Virginia, Colorado, Brown and Vanderbilt universities. "I do know, having been both a Southeastern Conference president and a Big Ten president, that it's like murderer's row every week for these schools. We do not play the Little Sisters of the Poor. We play very fine schools on any given day.

---- Associated Press

Okay, so E. Gordon Gee admits he doesn't know squat about football. With a name whose initials spell "EGG", I doubt he's even ever played a game of football.

That doesn't stop good old "EGG" from spouting off about the subject though.

That's where I take umbrage with this clown.

My deepest apologies to the clown community for the comparison.

"EGG" seems to think that unless you play in the Big Ten or SEC, you're playing mediocre teams all season long. It may surprise him to find out that bad football programs exist in both of those conferences.

So, in the interest of fairness, let's look at Ohio State's football schedule for the 2010 season:

vs. Marshall (Conference-USA) currently 4-7 on the season
vs. Miami (ACC) then #12 in the polls, currently out of them at 7-4
vs. Ohio (MAC) currently 8-3
vs. E. Michigan (MAC) currently 2-9
@ Illinois (Big Ten) currently 6-5
vs. Indiana (Big Ten) currently 4-7
@ Wisconsin (Big Ten) then #18 in the polls, currently #7 at 10-1
vs. Purdue (Big Ten) currently 4-7
@ Minnesota (Big Ten) currently 2-9
vs. Penn State (Big Ten) currently 7-4
@ Iowa (Big Ten) then #20 in the polls, currently #24 at 7-4
vs. Michigan (Big Ten) currently 7-4

With only Michigan remaining on the schedule, Ohio State is currently 10-1. They have two wins over conference teams with a winning record. Iowa and Miami are two "Top 25" wins.

Now let's take a look at the "Little Sisters of the Poor" factor. Five of their ten wins are against teams with losing records, some of them woeful. Three of the four non-conference games were against mid-major teams, two of which have losing records. Three of their conference wins were against teams with combined record of 10-23.

Some people like to point out the Big Ten's football traditions and championships over the years.

That and a dollar will get you a can of soda.

The past and the traditions have nothing to do with the championship from year to year.

If Ohio State wanted to ensure they would be in a position to claim a piece of the pie they should have scheduled TCU and/or Boise State instead of teams from C-USA and the MAC.

Of course, they didn't. That would have been too dangerous. Ohio State knows it too.

They didn't want to have "EGG" on their face.

"EGG", do us all a favor.

Talk about your years at Brown University, home of the annual:


dedication of the E. Gordon Gee Lavatory complex during Spring Weekend festivities.

Tell us about your getting run out of Vanderbilt because your wife was smoking pot in the Chancellor's House.

Guess he never noticed the abundance of chocolate laying around his University supplied home.

Whatever you do, don't tell us about the BCS. You have no interest in football or the process, you're just looking for the cash the BCS would bring you.

Personally, I hope both Oregon and Auburn lose this week and TCU and Boise State win. All Hell is going to break loose if they do.

It will be the NCAA's and BCS backers' worst nightmare and leave "EGG" on their faces.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

"Survivor": The Thanksgivng Edition

Roasted turkey.........a happy Thanksgiving tradition.

Aggravation in the supermarket.........not so much.

I went out to the supermarket to pick up a few things yesterday.

Not many things mind you. I don't need to shop for a full Thanksgiving. We're celebrating Thanksgiving at Chris' sister's this year. However, I did need some things for last night's dinner.

I figured it would be nothing more than an "in and out" for the small list of things I had to get.

I could not have been more wrong.

What "Black Friday" is to Christmas shopping, the Monday before Thanksgiving is to the supermarkets.

What should have taken ten minutes at the most, took me nearly forty five minutes.

Why?

Amateur and/or ill prepared shoppers.

It was horrible.

I broke them down into various categories. Why not? I wasn't going anywhere in a hurry.

The first "supermarket speed bump" I got caught behind was probably the most annoying. I've dubbed her:

"I'd Like To Phone A Friend Shopper"

This lady came ill prepared for her supermarket run. She was shopping with no list and apparently had a poor memory. She had run out of ideas and had come to a complete stop. I was stuck behind her. There was no place for me to go. That what happens when a 400 pound woman shoving a 400 pound load of groceries stops in the middle of the aisle. Apparently she was too busy to notice the two lines of opposite direction shoppers trying to get around her as well.

I could see the spice rack forty feet ahead of me. All I needed was a jar of cinnamon sticks.

Turn around you say?

Not a chance.

The aisle behind me was jammed up like a river full of logs.

Meanwhile "Phone A Friend" was busy waving off people trying to excuse themselves by her as she talked to her husband.

"Honey, just stay on the phone with me. I've got the turkeys, potatoes, cranberry sauce, and bread. I also picked up......".

She went on to list everything she had in her cart. He went on to tell her what else they needed.

How do I know?

She repeated everything he told her.

TWICE!!!!!!

Fortunately we were all saved by a little old lady. The old gal had seen enough. She waded upstream through the carts, finally reaching the source of her and our frustration.

She made eye contact with "Phone A Friend" who covered the bottom of her phone. With the sweetest, most innocent, little old lady eyes she could muster, she looked at the the 400 pound lady and said:

"Get off the phone and clear the aisle!!"

"Phone A Friend", apparently shocked to see the sea of carts in front of her, moved off to her right and allowed people to pass. The aisle was already in the process of clearing behind me as people spun around to shop elsewhere in the store. I had waited this long so I just passed around her.

Cinnamon sticks in the cart, I pressed on.

I was on my way to get some food storage containers. I turned the corner and there was another roadblock due to heavy volume.

Fair enough. Folks were just waiting their turns to get the makings for green bean casserole.

As I stood there, the lady in front of me started talking to herself. I couldn't help but overhear her. She was trying to remember how her mom made green bean casserole. I call this shopper:

"We're Going To Have An Old Fashioned Thanksgiving If It Kills Me Or All Of Us Shopper!!!!!!!!"

She was obviously starting to stress. I wanted to interrupt her and tell her the recipe is on the side of every can of Durkee French Fried Onions can. Instead I decided to see how this was going to turn out.

She already had her store brand cans of cream of mushroom soup. As the line moved up, she passed by the French sliced green beans and grabbed a couple cans of the chopped green beans. The really big ones. "Okay", I thought to myself, "Maybe that's what her mom used.".

What she did next sort of surprised me.

She passed right by the Durkee French Fried Onions. She started around the corner.

I picked up a few things that were not on my list and headed around the corner to get my containers.

I gave no more thought to "We're Going To Have An Old Fashioned Thanksgiving If It Kills Me Or All Of Us!!!!!!!!" until I came out of the aisle with my containers.

There in her cart, on the little folding seat with the chopped green beans and store brand cream of mushroom soup was a bag of "Funyuns".

She stopped just off my right and started muttering something about, "Mom's pecan pie recipe....". By that time I'd seen enough.

I quietly said a quick prayer for "We're Going To Have An Old Fashioned Thanksgiving If It Kills Me Or All Of Us!!!!!!!!" and her family for a safe and tasty holiday meal.

My last items to get were a couple bottles of bitter lemon.

That went quickly. I headed for the cashiers.

The express lanes were backed up. I sort of strolled down the lanes looking for one where the carts weren't too overloaded.

Fortunately, I found one.

Unfortunately, I ended up behind a shopper I call:

"I Don't Care What That Coupon/Sales Circular Says, I'm Going To Try To Use It Anyway Shopper"

This shopper ranks as the number one most aggravating shopper in the world.

Why?

Because you FINALLY made it to the register. You've dealt with every one of the other speed bumps in the aisles. You're almost home free. If you can't see the parking lot, you surely can smell it.

My hopes began to rise.

Then I heard the young lady at the cash register tell the customer:

"Ma'am, the sale is on FROZEN TURKEYS, not fresh.".

Ugh.

Conveniently, "I Don't Care What That Coupon/Sales Circular Says, I'm Going To Try To Use It Anyway" had placed both turkeys label side down in hopes the cashier wouldn't notice.

"I Don't Care What That Coupon/Sales Circular Says, I'm Going To Try To Use It Anyway" acted shocked. First she said, "I'm sure the sign just said *turkey*".

Her feigned surprise didn't fool any of us in line, nor the cashier.

The cashier replied, "No ma'am. It's on the frozen turkeys only.".

Now "I Don't Care What That Coupon/Sales Circular Says, I'm Going To Try To Use It Anyway" says, "I'm sorry, I thought the ones I picked out were the frozen ones.".

She had two things working against her new excuse:

1. The birds weren't as hard as concrete.

2. The word FRESH was emblazoned right across the label in letters large enough for me to read without my glasses from eight feet away.

That's when the couple in line behind me and "We're Going To Have An Old Fashioned Thanksgiving If It Kills Me Or All Of Us!!!!!!!!" behind them left in a huff, searching for an end to their collective miseries.

Our fearless cashier had heard and seen enough. "Ma'am", she said politely, "if you wish to take these back and get the turkeys on sale I'll be happy to wait."

Now "I Don't Care What That Coupon/Sales Circular Says, I'm Going To Try To Use It Anyway" is running out of tricks. She's down to two choices. She can carry these two birds back, grab two of the correct birds, and haul them back from across the store while people are staring at her. Her other option is to ask for a manager, make her plea to him/her, and see if she can't get the deal done her way.

She went for the second option.

I could have already been out of the store if I'd followed the other folks to a new line. I was already pissed, but I also had invested time into this micro drama.

I had to see how it was going to turn out.

The manager came over. He carefully listened to the customer's story. She told him everything she told the cashier, including her excuses.

The manager took a step back.

He looked at the cashier.

He looked at us standing in line.

He looked at the other lines building up.

This is probably a week he has dreaded all year.

He looked back at us in line.

He then announced his decision:

"I'm sorry ma'am. These are not the turkeys on sale. We can ring these up for you or I can carry these back while you pick out two of the sale birds."

It was the first time I could ever remember wanting to "High Five" a store employee.

Defeated, "I Don't Care What That Coupon/Sales Circular Says, I'm Going To Try To Use It Anyway" opted to buy both of the fresh turkeys. The manager left. The "I Don't Care What That Coupon/Sales Circular Says, I'm Going To Try To Use It Anyway" lady copped a bit of an attitude with the cashier.

To her credit, the cashier didn't buy into it. She was polite and professional to the very end.

The "I Don't Care What That Coupon/Sales Circular Says, I'm Going To Try To Use It Anyway" lady finally paid and started to the parking lot.

I unloaded my few items on the belt and walked up to the cashier. I looked at her with a small grin and said, "I'll say it for you."

I leaned in a bit, looked over at the lady leaving, and quietly said, "Bitch".

We both chuckled.

I paid for my few items and left for home. I was frustrated by the events of the afternoon, but watching that last lady get shut down like that made it a bit better.

I had survived the holiday supermarket test.

Unfortunately, I'll have to do it again this afternoon. There is a party we're going to on Saturday and I want to get what I need before Friday.

I refuse to go ANYWHERE on "Black Friday".

Why I do so is a story for another time.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

VIVA EL TOSTADOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's a lazy Sunday morning.

I'm not feeling particularly creative.

That's one advantage of having a Rhondo the Wonder Idiot around.

A few weeks ago, he debuted his superhero alter ego "R. Hondo" better known as "El Tostador".

Sadly, even as "El Tostador", he can't seem to shake his "Rhondo the Wonder Idiot" roots.

It's damned near impossible to carry out ANY "El Tostador" superhero missions when found whimpering in the driveway on a slightly tangled tether:



Here's a closer view:


"El Tostador" was not having one of his braver moments.

To be fair, I offered Rhondo a chance to rebut this morning's blog.

Ladies and gentlemen, "Rhondo the Wonder Idiot's" rebuttal:


"ATM, can I get a *mulligan* on that one?"

"Not a chance."


"Damn it."

"Anything else you'd like to add to that?"


"Pfffffffffftttttttt!!!!!!!!!!

There's an old saying that goes, "Some days feathers, some days chicken.".

Rhondo's leading the league in "feathers".

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

Splitty The Maul Vs. History

It's no secret that Splitty the Maul loves to go sightseeing.

This morning I found Splitty sitting in front of my lap top computer.


Splitty had just opened it up when I walked in the room.

He's been cooped up lately and wanted to go out and see some more of the area.

Seeing as I had errands to run, I agreed to take Splitty along for the ride.


Mauls dig riding in cars.

I was no sooner out of the driveway when Splitty asked if we could go down to the boat ramp.

Splitty has always liked the water, so I was happy to oblige.

It didn't take long to get to the river.


Splitty jumped out, leaned against the truck, and took in the sights.

After studying it for a few minutes, he asked a question.

Mauls are full of questions.

The conversation went like this:


"ATM, what river is this again?"

"It's the Delaware River."


"That's Delaware over there?"

"Yeah it is, Splitty"


"Didn't George Washington cross the Delaware River during the Revolutionary War?"

"As a matter of fact, he did. He and the Continental Army crossed north of here from Pennsylvania and landed near Trenton to attack the British and Hessian forces as they slept."


"Washington should have crossed down here."

"Why is that?"


"It would have been a lot easier."

"How so?"


"He could have used the boat ramp."

"Ummmmmm, Splitty? The boat ramp wasn't there at the time."

Splitty paused for a moment and sighed.


"Guess that leaves the bridges out as the other option, huh."

There's a reason I leave Splitty home on Trivia Tuesday's at The Flying Saucer back home.

It was time to head out and get some errands done.

I explained to Splitty the conditions at Valley Forge and that General Washington needed to get supplies for his men.

I pulled into Walmart to pick up some bread.

Splitty suddenly had an "AHA!!!!!" moment.


"General Washington could have saved a lot of time if he'd crossed the river down here and foraged at Walmart!!!!!!", he blurted out.

I had to explain to him that neither Arkansas nor Sam Walton had been invented in the late 1700's making his idea impossible.

Splitty sighed, then looked out over a nearby field.


"ATM........what's Arkansas?", he quietly asked.

"It's that land across the Mississippi River from my condo Splitty.", I answered back.


"That's Arkansas? What kind of name is Arkansas anyway?, he asked.

"It's an old Indian word for *Land of Walmart*", I replied confidently.

Mauls.........always with the questions.

I came back with the bread.

Since Splitty hadn't been out much of late, I decided we'd stop in Salem on our way out into the county for more shopping.

It didn't take long to get there.

I parked on Market Street to take advantage of the two hour free parking.


We were right across from the old Salem Courthouse. This is the side view of the building.

It had recently been redone, but sadly it was closed when we got there.

Even more sad, they have a "No Maul" policy.

I suppose some folks would think to use a maul as a weapon.

Splitty was not happy about the matter and viewed the buildings from the car.

A quartering front view.


Front view.

A few doors down, on the same side of the street, is the Salem Presbyterian Church.

I think it is one of the most beautiful churches in South Jersey.

Splitty agrees.



I headed down the street to get some more pictures and came across this relic.


Ask a 20 something what a "Fallout Shelter" is sometime.




I love churches that look like churches.

Churches that look like shopping malls on the outside and television studios on the inside, like Bellevue Baptist Church in Cordova, TN, leave me cold.

I can almost hear someone say, "It's your one stop God shop.", every time I go past it.

Someday I fully expect to hear, "The Gospel According To Duuuuuuuuuudddeeeee" come from one of those spiritual broadcast facilities.

Give me the old church architecture anytime.

Right next to the church sits an old home converted into some County offices.


I'm pleased that the powers that be have saved this old house over the years.

Across the street is the original location of the Salem County Memorial Hospital (now known as The Memorial Hospital of Salem).

The building began it's life as a hotel.




Now, it serves as a County office building.

I'd have loved to have stayed longer, but I did have errands to run.

Besides, Splitty was ready to see some other stuff.

We headed out towards the middle of the State.

New Jersey is called "The Garden State" for good reasons.

One of those reasons is Sunny Slope Farms. My Dad used to take us out there to buy apples in the Fall.

Even though it's at the end of the season, I headed out on the off chance that they would still have some "Winesap" apples.

They did.


The entrance to one of my favorite places. They STILL have the free apple cider for their visiting customers. It's STILL delicious, too.


Just a few of the over 1,000 acres of land they farm.

I've bought a 1/2 bushel of "Winesap" apples to make apple sauce out of.

Gotta love the old classic recipes.

It was good to see they are still in business and doing well.

Too many farms have vanished into big corporate conglomerate operations.

I still had one more stop to make.

The last time I was there was more than 20 years ago.


Niblock's Pork Store.

It's still not much bigger than a small truck.

However, the pork is still exceptional. Fresh sausage, outstanding bacon, real keilbasa (not that crap you get from Hillshire farms), and all things pork from ribs to chops to roasts.

I bought four 2 inch thick center cut chops to start. Two pounds of bacon, two pounds of link fresh keilbasa, and two 2 inch thick ribeye steaks later, I was ready to head home.


Besides, Splitty had fallen asleep in the truck.

Such is the life of a maul.

Tonight, a quiet evening in cooking up some of today's "harvest".

Tomorrow?

Who knows.

There's never a bad day for lounging around in the pj's until noon.

Sounds like a plan.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.

The Shore's Not Just For Summer

That, my friends, is a fact.

The majority to the world thinks an East Coast Fall day looks a lot like this:


Ten wild turkey crossing the road from woods to field during their morning feeding.

The beach couldn't be further from their minds.

Most folks who haven't gone to the beach in the Fall, Winter, or Spring really are missing something.

You're missing the crowds.

You're missing the heavy traffic coming and going.

You're missing the noise.

You're missing the "posers" coming in from southern New York thinking they own the place, scaring both children and sea gulls, while polluting the water with hair mousse and making complete jackasses of themselves.

You're missing the middle aged French Canadian men who don't seem to understand that Speedos are a privilege, not a right.

Most would say you're missing everything.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Our friends invited us to join them for the weekend. We gladly accepted. We don't get to see them nearly enough.

We left late afternoon on Friday. The trip down was pleasant. Big clear skies, nice late Fall foliage to look at, and light traffic.

It was dark when we arrived. Thomas and Beryl had prepared a wonderful salmon dinner. This being their vacation home, they were a bit tired from their drive earlier in the day. We dined and spent a quiet evening catching up on the things going on with all of us.

Can you ask for a better Friday night than that?

I certainly can't.

Their home is on a quiet body of water, just off the ocean. As is my wont, I was up early.

Just in time for sunrise:






The sunrise would be the harbinger of a fun filled and wonderful day.

Everybody else was soon awake. Following a light breakfast, we headed over into Ventnor.

Why leave the beach for Ventnor?

For chocolates.

Real chocolate candy made by a real candy maker.



Jagielky's is a step back in time for chocolate candy aficionados.





I'm not going to say just how much candy we bought. All I will testify to is that none of our doctors or dentists would be amused.

Having laid in supplies for our sweet tooths (sic: sweet teeth?), we headed over to a bakery.

Formica Bros. Bakery has been an Atlantic City institution since 1919. From crusty breads, to rolls, to biscotti, to desserts, they have it all.

You know the place is good if I'm too distracted to take a picture of the place. Chris picked up some whole wheat cranberry bread, I picked up eight Asiago cheese bread sticks for dinner. Thomas and Beryl picked themselves up a nice selection of biscotti.

By my count we had picked up enough calories to keep a body running for a year by then.

The day was warming up. Thomas and Beryl suggested a bike ride.



Seemed like a perfect time to test out the new three seater.

I took Chris's place on the next ride.

It seems like it might be a bit involved, but riding the three seater is a real treat. After a few minutes, it was as natural as riding a regular bike.

Having burned off breakfast and candy it was time for lunch.

I couldn't resist myself a few days before over in Delaware. Doc and I had stopped by a little Italian market. I had purchased all the ingredients to make a muffaletto to make for Thomas and Beryl.

As luck would have it, my memory did NOT fail me. I nailed the sandwich.

We had it, some chips, and some soft drinks. It was a good time to relax and enjoy some small talk.

After all, we still had a trip to the beach ahead of us.

The ride took all of ten minutes.

Thomas and Beryl had something planned for us.

Thomas bought his "kite bag".

These weren't your Wal-Mart $1.00 kites.



These were "Big Boy" kites.

Thomas gave me a few minutes of instruction on each. Then it was off to the kite races.

At this posting, the videos of us flying the kites are not available. YouTube is being ornery this morning. It took me six tries to get the bicycle video uploaded.

Thomas and I took turns flying the kites. Given their manuverability it only made sense to have one up at a time.


Beryl and Chris were happy to spend time watching the waves and chatting on the beach.

Speaking of beach and waves:


Looks like a nice day for a swim.

Soon enough, the sun began to set. We put the kites away and headed back to the car.


Not before I got one last picture of the surf reflecting the setting sun.

I had already volunteered to make dinner for the evening.

Freshly filleted, grilled Red Snapper, Baked Rockfish stuffed with Crab Imperial, Thai noodle salad with marinated vegetables, fresh Jersey lima beans, salad greens with dried cranberries and cashews, and the Asiago cheese breadsticks.

I'm pretty sure everybody was full by the end.

Sunday found us having a nice brunch and taking one more trip on the three seater.

Hey, all good things must come to an end.

It was great to see Thomas and Beryl again. We'll be seeing them again soon.

The three seat bicycle is soon to become another blog series here.

But not today.

Y'all will just have to wait.

Until the next time, all y'all take care of yourselves.

Air Traffic Mike, ret.