We woke up Friday morning with a beautiful sun shining bright. How lovely. It was also a brisk 40 degrees, the first time we’ve seen these temperatures in six months. Yikes!
We set out to see the town, but truly had no idea which direction to go. Our concierge saved the day. “Check out the Reading Market Terminal” she said. It was on the same block, indoors, and had all sorts of awesomeness to explore. It was perfect for a little one, with dad checking the sights out too. We went in, and the very first vendor was “Old Town Coffee”. I got myself a beautiful, strong and hot cup of joe. Yum. I then chased Michelle around for the next 20 minutes. We stopped at a Creperie, where I ate delicious French cuisine. They gave Michelle a plastic knife which she used to repeatedly stab my breakfast. It kept her busy while we ate, so I encouraged it.
After breakfast, coffee, and flirting with every single person at the market, my daughter and I decided to try and find the Liberty Bell. As it turns out, I don’t know anything about American History. The Liberty Bell obviously has some significance to America, but it took a little Wikipedia search to get a better idea of what it’s all about. If you’re ashamed of this confession, maybe do a little research yourself. I highly doubt most people have any idea the actual history of the stinking bell. Don’t judge me.
We walked the streets of Philly, slowly making out way to history. I say slowly because the child was insistent on walking as well as making friends with everyone along the way. This includes the businessmen, the tourists, the homeless people talking to themselves, and the policemen.
Socializing comes at a cost. With a block to go, Michelle lost it. It was officially nap time, she was tired and cold, and truly did not care about the historic area of Philadelphia. Oh dear.
The bad news was the hotel was the same walk we had just done, only now the baby was screaming and refusing to walk. She was also refusing to be carried. Quite a predicament. When we finally got back to the room, she got some milk, and fell asleep in about seven minutes, and stayed asleep for over three hours! Awesome.
The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. We met up with mom to have dinner at the Hard Rock Café, which turned out to be the best place to take a loud and bouncy toddler.
I’m hopeful that tomorrow will bless me with a lovely and delicious Philly cheese steak sandwich; the one of three things I was hoping to experience while in this town. The others: see the liberty bell and get a picture in front of the Trocadero theatre. The significance being that the Trocadero is mentioned in a song by Nerfherder. “Well I met her at the Trocadero, in Philly…”
Yes, I’m super nerdy like that.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Friday, October 28, 2011
The Drive to Philly
We are attending a conference in Philadelphia, PA this weekend. To clarify, Nicole is attending a conference, and Michelle and I are exploring the beautiful streets of Philly. To clarify, Michelle and I are roaming the dirty streets of the city on the lookout for something beautiful.
To begin this little saga, I need to start at the beginning. Nicole and I looked at trusty ol’ google maps to see how long it would take to drive from Norfolk, VA to Philadelphia, PA. The directions said with traffic, it would take 4 ½ hours. No prob. If we left around 10AM, we would hopefully arrive around 3PM, check into the hotel, Nicole hops on the metro to get to her conference for the opening lecture at 5:30. We felt it was a pretty flawless plan.
We woke up Thursday morning, the morning we were leaving, and found that we were SO unprepared to leave. After scrambling all morning, we finally got out the door by 11:30. No problem, for the most part. Looking at google maps on Thursday told us that the drive would take us 5 ½ hours. Wait, what happened to that other hour? Okay, so maybe Nicole wouldn’t make it to the opening lecture. No problem.
We leave Norfolk, and head toward the Chesapeake Bridge. There is a toll to cross the bridge. No problem. How much could a toll bridge possibly be? We rolled up to the lady who said “$12 please.” I said, “Wow, really? Are there any more tolls on this road?” “How far are you going?” She asked. “Philadelphia.” “Yes, there are more tolls, but none are this much.” “I hope not!” I said, and then wished her a pleasant price-gouging day.
The drive we took ended up having some absolutely spectacular views. Wow, it really was a beautiful drive. We felt that the enormous fee was dedicated to making sure we had a pretty drive.
Once we entered Delaware, we needed gas. We stopped for some, but then took the wrong road to get back on the freeway, and ended up driving the wrong direction. Not a good plan for keeping a time budget. I took the first exit I could off the freeway which had a huge yellow sign that said “TOLL”. I had already committed to the exit, but was confused by the set-up. All previous tolls I’d seen had some person sitting in a booth. This one only had a little basket with a sign saying “$.25”. It all happened so fast, but I basically coasted right past it without paying. Nicole was yelling, and I was trying to find out how the heck to get back on the freeway. Anyways, we flipped a U-turn, and found our way back to the freeway where I made sure to pay my $.25 to get back on. The rest of our drive was spent researching how much it cost us for me to blow by the tollbooth. It turns out to be a $25 fine. That is a 1,000% error on my part. I can’t wait to get that one in the mail.
By the time we arrived to New Jersey, it was getting dark. We were seven hours into our drive by this point. I don’t know how it’s possible, but that seems to be how these things go. I had an indifferent impression about New Jersey. Like I said, it was dark, it started raining, and the drivers were equally bad, though now there were more of them. We blessed the state with our temporary presence, and a couple dollars in tolls, and then made our way to Philly.
Philly began with a confusing toll bridge (Benjamin Franklin would be so proud of his bridge) that cost us another $5. As Nicole navigated us through the vortex of terror, I did my best not to kill us all. However, when you’ve been driving for eight hours, and the climax of the drive is filled with old twisty three lane roads in the dark and rain, it all a sudden gets very stressful. Every once in a while Nicole would look up from her phone to see where we were, gasp, and then quickly look back down at her phone. Somehow we weaved through the spaghetti factory and made it to our hotel. Phew.
The final spectacle of the night was finding food for our daughter, whose bedtime had arrived. I don’t think we won any gold stars for parenting. We settled on Thai food that was a block away, and went back to our hotel. We decided that we’ll give Philadelphia a chance, but not at night, in the rain, in Chinatown with our one year old daughter. We’ll explore in the daylight tomorrow.
To begin this little saga, I need to start at the beginning. Nicole and I looked at trusty ol’ google maps to see how long it would take to drive from Norfolk, VA to Philadelphia, PA. The directions said with traffic, it would take 4 ½ hours. No prob. If we left around 10AM, we would hopefully arrive around 3PM, check into the hotel, Nicole hops on the metro to get to her conference for the opening lecture at 5:30. We felt it was a pretty flawless plan.
We woke up Thursday morning, the morning we were leaving, and found that we were SO unprepared to leave. After scrambling all morning, we finally got out the door by 11:30. No problem, for the most part. Looking at google maps on Thursday told us that the drive would take us 5 ½ hours. Wait, what happened to that other hour? Okay, so maybe Nicole wouldn’t make it to the opening lecture. No problem.
We leave Norfolk, and head toward the Chesapeake Bridge. There is a toll to cross the bridge. No problem. How much could a toll bridge possibly be? We rolled up to the lady who said “$12 please.” I said, “Wow, really? Are there any more tolls on this road?” “How far are you going?” She asked. “Philadelphia.” “Yes, there are more tolls, but none are this much.” “I hope not!” I said, and then wished her a pleasant price-gouging day.
The drive we took ended up having some absolutely spectacular views. Wow, it really was a beautiful drive. We felt that the enormous fee was dedicated to making sure we had a pretty drive.
Once we entered Delaware, we needed gas. We stopped for some, but then took the wrong road to get back on the freeway, and ended up driving the wrong direction. Not a good plan for keeping a time budget. I took the first exit I could off the freeway which had a huge yellow sign that said “TOLL”. I had already committed to the exit, but was confused by the set-up. All previous tolls I’d seen had some person sitting in a booth. This one only had a little basket with a sign saying “$.25”. It all happened so fast, but I basically coasted right past it without paying. Nicole was yelling, and I was trying to find out how the heck to get back on the freeway. Anyways, we flipped a U-turn, and found our way back to the freeway where I made sure to pay my $.25 to get back on. The rest of our drive was spent researching how much it cost us for me to blow by the tollbooth. It turns out to be a $25 fine. That is a 1,000% error on my part. I can’t wait to get that one in the mail.
By the time we arrived to New Jersey, it was getting dark. We were seven hours into our drive by this point. I don’t know how it’s possible, but that seems to be how these things go. I had an indifferent impression about New Jersey. Like I said, it was dark, it started raining, and the drivers were equally bad, though now there were more of them. We blessed the state with our temporary presence, and a couple dollars in tolls, and then made our way to Philly.
Philly began with a confusing toll bridge (Benjamin Franklin would be so proud of his bridge) that cost us another $5. As Nicole navigated us through the vortex of terror, I did my best not to kill us all. However, when you’ve been driving for eight hours, and the climax of the drive is filled with old twisty three lane roads in the dark and rain, it all a sudden gets very stressful. Every once in a while Nicole would look up from her phone to see where we were, gasp, and then quickly look back down at her phone. Somehow we weaved through the spaghetti factory and made it to our hotel. Phew.
The final spectacle of the night was finding food for our daughter, whose bedtime had arrived. I don’t think we won any gold stars for parenting. We settled on Thai food that was a block away, and went back to our hotel. We decided that we’ll give Philadelphia a chance, but not at night, in the rain, in Chinatown with our one year old daughter. We’ll explore in the daylight tomorrow.
Monday, October 24, 2011
I think it's mud
I think it's mud: written by Jack Spoon, inspired by events this morning.
What is this stinky stuff right here?
It’s sticky and gross and fell out of my rear.
It sticks to the bed. It smears on the walls
It leaves hand and foot prints down all the halls.
This stuff is icky. This stuff is so gross.
This stuff is squishy between all of my toes.
It’s just so yucky, and I can’t get it off me.
I tried wiping it off on all things that I see.
I used dad’s wallet, mommy’s make-up and towel,
The doggy’s tail didn’t work, I just made her howl.
The dishes didn’t work, nor the silverware
It wouldn’t come off even in dad’s hair.
Followed by screaming, I was thrown in the tub.
It finally came off with a rinse and a scrub.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t much fun
But I might do better with another one.
What is this stinky stuff right here?
It’s sticky and gross and fell out of my rear.
It sticks to the bed. It smears on the walls
It leaves hand and foot prints down all the halls.
This stuff is icky. This stuff is so gross.
This stuff is squishy between all of my toes.
It’s just so yucky, and I can’t get it off me.
I tried wiping it off on all things that I see.
I used dad’s wallet, mommy’s make-up and towel,
The doggy’s tail didn’t work, I just made her howl.
The dishes didn’t work, nor the silverware
It wouldn’t come off even in dad’s hair.
Followed by screaming, I was thrown in the tub.
It finally came off with a rinse and a scrub.
Whatever this was, it wasn’t much fun
But I might do better with another one.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Dear Neighbor
Dear Neighbor:
As a self-proclaimed garden enthusiast, I wanted to share how impressed I am with the well maintained landscape you keep. The perfectly trimmed grass, and the various flowers of assorted colors make your plot a true gem to behold in our neighborhood.
Not only am I impressed with your plot of Earth, my daughter also expressed her appreciation of the plants in her own way. Yesterday, as we were admiring your garden, a flower of particular interest was, shall we say, liberated delicately from the flock. Though I grimaced at the unexpected act of vandalism, I couldn’t help but be captivated by the complimentary features it provided to my daughter’s attire.
In an act of recompense, I would like to supply you with a picture of the said combination. I do hope that this incident does not change your feelings on caring for your garden, and look forward to the vibrant colors it will possess in the future.
Highest regards,
Jack Spoon
As a self-proclaimed garden enthusiast, I wanted to share how impressed I am with the well maintained landscape you keep. The perfectly trimmed grass, and the various flowers of assorted colors make your plot a true gem to behold in our neighborhood.
Not only am I impressed with your plot of Earth, my daughter also expressed her appreciation of the plants in her own way. Yesterday, as we were admiring your garden, a flower of particular interest was, shall we say, liberated delicately from the flock. Though I grimaced at the unexpected act of vandalism, I couldn’t help but be captivated by the complimentary features it provided to my daughter’s attire.
In an act of recompense, I would like to supply you with a picture of the said combination. I do hope that this incident does not change your feelings on caring for your garden, and look forward to the vibrant colors it will possess in the future.
Highest regards,
Jack Spoon
Monday, October 17, 2011
Lunch
Set scene at dining room table. Dad and child sitting across the table facing each other.
Dad: Eat your lunch.
Michelle: Dow. (picks up food and reaches to dad, indicating he eat it)
Dad: (takes food and eats it) Now it’s your turn. Take a bite.
Michelle: Dow. (picks up piece of food and reaches to dad to repeat previous action).
Dad: No, you eat your lunch. Eat a piece.
Michelle: (scowls momentarily, then begins screaming and crying).
Dad: You are such a girl; so emotional.
Michelle: No!
Dad: Yes.
Michelle: NO! (throws remaining food and plate on floor. Hysterical screaming ensues.)
Dad: (nod)
End Scene.
Dad: Eat your lunch.
Michelle: Dow. (picks up food and reaches to dad, indicating he eat it)
Dad: (takes food and eats it) Now it’s your turn. Take a bite.
Michelle: Dow. (picks up piece of food and reaches to dad to repeat previous action).
Dad: No, you eat your lunch. Eat a piece.
Michelle: (scowls momentarily, then begins screaming and crying).
Dad: You are such a girl; so emotional.
Michelle: No!
Dad: Yes.
Michelle: NO! (throws remaining food and plate on floor. Hysterical screaming ensues.)
Dad: (nod)
End Scene.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Things we take for granted
A quick post today. I was able to remind myself that even on days when you are feeling down, there is always something you are taking for granted that you should recognize. I used to always come home from my job and groan "what a waste of a day!" Or many days I would struggle with a person at work, or grasping a new concept, or trying to gather the right information, or WHATEVER it was that was impeding my ability to have a good day. It's all trickery. The only thing that keeps people from having a good day is their attitude, and their perspective.
To sound cliche, I think we should all count our blessings. I least I had a job. At least I had a paycheck that paid my bills. At least I interacted with people, and had copious opportunities to use my brain.
As a stay at home dad, I've transitioned from a professional life to a domestic one. It's equally, if not more demanding to keep a positive perspective and attitude. I knew many moms at my work who were envious that I was going to stay at home with my kiddo. Honestly, I can't blame them, but it's a major transition. You're interaction with grown-ups dwindles to nothing, unless your child is famous, they don't pay you, and there is not a lot of praise or immediate rewards when you're at home all day.
But on the flip side, I need to remind myself of why everyone is so envious of my position. I get to hang out with my daughter all day. We might not play all day, but we get to hang out and chat, and run and laugh a lot.
Okay, I'm going to come at today with a positive, enthusiastic and playful attitude. Get ready child of mine; we're going to have fun! Let's enjoy the time we get to spend together!
To sound cliche, I think we should all count our blessings. I least I had a job. At least I had a paycheck that paid my bills. At least I interacted with people, and had copious opportunities to use my brain.
As a stay at home dad, I've transitioned from a professional life to a domestic one. It's equally, if not more demanding to keep a positive perspective and attitude. I knew many moms at my work who were envious that I was going to stay at home with my kiddo. Honestly, I can't blame them, but it's a major transition. You're interaction with grown-ups dwindles to nothing, unless your child is famous, they don't pay you, and there is not a lot of praise or immediate rewards when you're at home all day.
But on the flip side, I need to remind myself of why everyone is so envious of my position. I get to hang out with my daughter all day. We might not play all day, but we get to hang out and chat, and run and laugh a lot.
Okay, I'm going to come at today with a positive, enthusiastic and playful attitude. Get ready child of mine; we're going to have fun! Let's enjoy the time we get to spend together!
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Perfectly Addicting No-Bake Cookies
If anyone follows this blog, they have probably figured out that I’m currently theme-less. In other words, you never really know what to expect, and therefore don’t follow my blog. It makes sense. I'll work on that.
Today’s topic is no-bake cookies. For those wondering if I feed my child no-bake cookies, the answer is no. My wife does. I only make them.
No-bake cookies are so simple, and require very little to make. The benefit far outweighs the effort. However, if you have little self control around sweets, these cookies will likely kill you dead. I'm not a believer in crack, but if I were, these cookies would be like crack. If crack tasted like these cookies . . . I don't know how to finish that sentence.
To make these, you have to use the right ingredients or else you shouldn’t even bother making them. You can screw them up, and I’ve done it enough to know not to mess with the key ingredients. I will share with you the perfect recipe.
It's simple enough. Almost everything is a quarter cup:
¼ Cup butter – YOU HAVE TO USE BUTTER. If you only have margarine, make brownies or something. Margarine does not make no-bake cookies.
¼ Cup milk
¼ Cup baking cocoa
1 Cup sugar
Mix that all up, and let it boil for one minute. I like to add a little salt and vanilla. Ooh, look at me go. After it’s boiled and bubbled, and you’ve stirred the sense out of it, add the rest.
¼ Cup peanut butter – I have found that the peanut butter with the most preservatives makes the best cookies. I personally prefer creamy Jif. In one of my early attempts at making these, my sister was able to pick the peanut chunks out of her cookies when I used chunky peanut butter, so I’ve never attempted since. You have to use something that’s going to set though. I used Adam’s peanut butter and it resulted in a huge embarrassing failure.
1 ¾ Cup Old Fashioned Quaker Oats oatmeal. YOU HAVE TO USE THE QUAKER’S OATS. IT HAS TO BE OLD FASHIONED. Don’t use generic. Don’t use quick oats. Don’t screw up with this key ingredient. You will regret it. If you don’t have Old Fashioned Quaker Oats, make monster cookies or something.
The best thing to do with no-bake cookies is drop them into huge globs on either wax paper, or any kind of non-stick flat surface, and toss it all in the freezer. This does many things. It cools the cookies down faster, chewy little goodies that last slightly longer and will make you quiver a little, and it will give you a “out of sight, out of mind” mentality. However, if you know they are there, you will eat them. Don’t kid yourself. This is for real. They are little inanimate demons that haunt your mind, and will keep you coming back to the freezer long after they have disappeared. But if you have read this far, you know that you’re going to make some right now.
So there you go. The batch size is purposefully small. The reason is that if you make more, you will eat more. I’ve shed many a tear in my life watching cookies get thrown away, but I do not recall ever throwing away a well-made no-bake cookie. Even the poorly made ones disappear in a timely fashion.
Until next time.
Spoon
Today’s topic is no-bake cookies. For those wondering if I feed my child no-bake cookies, the answer is no. My wife does. I only make them.
No-bake cookies are so simple, and require very little to make. The benefit far outweighs the effort. However, if you have little self control around sweets, these cookies will likely kill you dead. I'm not a believer in crack, but if I were, these cookies would be like crack. If crack tasted like these cookies . . . I don't know how to finish that sentence.
To make these, you have to use the right ingredients or else you shouldn’t even bother making them. You can screw them up, and I’ve done it enough to know not to mess with the key ingredients. I will share with you the perfect recipe.
It's simple enough. Almost everything is a quarter cup:
¼ Cup butter – YOU HAVE TO USE BUTTER. If you only have margarine, make brownies or something. Margarine does not make no-bake cookies.
¼ Cup milk
¼ Cup baking cocoa
1 Cup sugar
Mix that all up, and let it boil for one minute. I like to add a little salt and vanilla. Ooh, look at me go. After it’s boiled and bubbled, and you’ve stirred the sense out of it, add the rest.
¼ Cup peanut butter – I have found that the peanut butter with the most preservatives makes the best cookies. I personally prefer creamy Jif. In one of my early attempts at making these, my sister was able to pick the peanut chunks out of her cookies when I used chunky peanut butter, so I’ve never attempted since. You have to use something that’s going to set though. I used Adam’s peanut butter and it resulted in a huge embarrassing failure.
1 ¾ Cup Old Fashioned Quaker Oats oatmeal. YOU HAVE TO USE THE QUAKER’S OATS. IT HAS TO BE OLD FASHIONED. Don’t use generic. Don’t use quick oats. Don’t screw up with this key ingredient. You will regret it. If you don’t have Old Fashioned Quaker Oats, make monster cookies or something.
The best thing to do with no-bake cookies is drop them into huge globs on either wax paper, or any kind of non-stick flat surface, and toss it all in the freezer. This does many things. It cools the cookies down faster, chewy little goodies that last slightly longer and will make you quiver a little, and it will give you a “out of sight, out of mind” mentality. However, if you know they are there, you will eat them. Don’t kid yourself. This is for real. They are little inanimate demons that haunt your mind, and will keep you coming back to the freezer long after they have disappeared. But if you have read this far, you know that you’re going to make some right now.
So there you go. The batch size is purposefully small. The reason is that if you make more, you will eat more. I’ve shed many a tear in my life watching cookies get thrown away, but I do not recall ever throwing away a well-made no-bake cookie. Even the poorly made ones disappear in a timely fashion.
Until next time.
Spoon
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