Apt. 11D

Travel in 2012

I can't stop thinking about our upcoming trip to Puerto Rico. Adventure! The travel section of the Times made want to visit 45 other places, too. 

Sitting at the Corner of Burned Out and Fried

OK, I'm burned out. Christmas is fun, but Christmas is a shit-load of work. And I've had one hell of a year.

I crashed and burned last Friday. I didn't realize that I was just so, so, so tired, until I started thinking about how I was going to have to cook 12 fishy appetizers for Christmas Eve, and I kinda lost my marbles. Family has taken over, so instead of cleaning the house and writing menu plans, I'm researching hotels in Puerto Rico. I would have booked a vacation for this weekend and had a holiday on the beach, but Steve used up all of his vacation time during our move. So, we'll have to wait until February. 

Any suggestions? 

P-Town

This is Provincetown at around 11:00. That's why the streets are so clear. Later, the streets become packed with tourists and performers. I like the calm before the storm. 

Lobster Duel

 

We were rather pleased that this trip to Cape Cod didn't end with Steve in the emergency room due to an acute case of gout.

FYI...Lots of lobster + beer + beer +beer = gout

Why Not More Zoning?

Out here in Jersey, people love to announce their wealth by the creative usage of Greek columns on their homes. Also marble fountains, circular driveways, and statues of David. Preferably that's all happening at the same time on one home.  That's how we roll out here. These are MY people. 

So, it was a bit jarring to pull onto Cape Cod and see nothing but tasteful shingles, short homes, and gardens. Where are the cathedral ceilings, man? 

Either there are no Italians on the Cape or they have really good zoning laws. 

I'm going with the good zoning laws. So, why don't more towns have these strict zoning laws that mandate that an area should have a uniform look? Wouldn't that increase the property values of a town? 

The Tip of the Claw

 
Ideally, vacations should be planned months in advance. Plane fares must be followed like the stock market, and the good hotels need to be reserved. With so much uncertainty about selling the stupid house, we couldn't do that. Instead, Steve and I made hasty plans two weeks ago. I sat at the computer and threw out location names to Steve, as he sat at his computer. Upstate New York? Cape May? Disney again? We settled on Cape Cod, because it had what we needed. A whole lotta nothing. 

The lower Cape is nice. It's a beach area with trees. It's not as crowded and hot as the Jersey shore, but it still has mini-golf and ice-cream to keep the kids amused. You don't have to deal with Snooki-types, but there are plenty of Muffys and Buffys in sleeve-less polo shirts and pearl earnings. We didn't go there. 

We found a hotel-ish motel in North Truro, which is almost at the tip of Cape Cod. It has an end-of-the-world feeling to it. It's a remote sandbar. Little houses sit on a hill covered with rose hips and cranberries. After a day on a beach and a hike, we threw on clean t-shirts and roamed around the gay and artsy P-Town.

I bought a hippy purse that still smells like Petchoulli. Ian realized that he loves fish and chips. Sand got in our duffle bags, and bare feet rested on the dashboard of the car. Jonah rubbed wax on his surf board. We met up with friends at Moby Dick's and imbibed too much wine. After a crazy spring with color coded calendars and school meetings and bus schedules, this lazy weekend was much needed. 

Baby on the Lawn (Wave Hill #3)

Red Shoes (Wave Hill #2)

St. Elizabeth's, Wadsworth Avenue, NYC

On Sunday, after a wonderful brunch at the New Leaf cafe, we went to mass in Washington Heights at St. Elizabeth's. When we used to live in the hood, Mother Cabrini chapel was our usual joint; it was closer than St. Elizabeth's and had the added benefit of a dead saint. 

I guess I should explain. Mother Cabrini was a very nice lady who helped out the immigrants who flocked to urban areas at the turn of the century. She was such a nice lady that after she died, people said that she must be a saint and, like all saints, her body probably didn't decompose. So, they dug up her body. However, as a plaque thoughtfully explains, Mother Cabrini's body was indeed "subject to the laws of decay." But that's didn't daunt her true believers who put a wax mask and hands on her bones, put her in a dress, and then enshrined her in a glass box, which has become the altar where the priest says mass every day.

I love gruesome Catholic practices.

Even though St. Elizabeth's wasn't our usual church, both Jonah and Steve were baptized here.

I love these gothic churches in cities. These churches are dinosaurs and are closing all over the country as the numbers of Catholics dwindle. St. Elizabeth's has some nice murals and an excellent organ.

The New Leaf Café

In celebration of the end of soccer season, we took a spontaneous trip to the New Leaf Café in Fort Tryon Park for brunch. I called my folks and had them meet us there. The cafe is run by Bette Midler's people --  a chunk of the profits go back into the city parks. It's located in the park that surrounds the Cloisters. The food is local and organic. Of course, I mostly geeked out over the great decor. I'm sucker for dark wood trim, mustard walls, little panes of glass. 

Just love those light fixtures.

My parents were really confused, because I was taking pictures of the light fixtures. George, why is your daughter taking pictures of the light fixtures? I'm not sure, Sylvia. You know she was always a little squirrely.

Eggs benedict.

Family.

And lots of pork products. Life is good!