Last year my few days off in April were so lovely, so welcomed, that I decided to do a few days of vacation again in April this year. And this year Doug has joined me. We're currently through day three of our five days off in a row, and it's been great so far. I'm here to give you some highlights of what's been going on here, vacation-wise, grouped by major category.
Food:
Doug and I enjoy our dinners. We're not so good at breakfast, and are equally bad at eating much for lunch, but we tend to go all out for calories with our dinners. Our vacation dinners have been no exception. Our first vacation dinner was at
Wild Willy's in Watertown, and this was on Thursday night, the night we were sprung from work and our vacation officially started.
We got a couple of veggie burgers, and I have to say that Wild Willy's offers a mighty fine veggie burger.
Friday night saw us at
British Beer Company, which, though a small chain, has really good pub food and a great selection of beers.
I confess to never really ordering any of their great beer offerings, but I did once, and I was glad that I did - last year they offered this super-delicious fruity beer called
Fruli, just about the best beer I've ever had. It was almost like a glass of strawberry juice, but not as sweet and a little thicker, heavier. I have not been able to find it since (though I admit to not looking too hard), but I hope BBC will have it again this year. I'd actually drink that beer without hesitation.
Saturday saw us eating a very, very sinful dinner at
Po' Boys & Pickles in Portland, Maine. I have no photos of our fried pickles, sweet potato fries, or our reuben and muffaletta po'boy, but all of it would have been worthy of a picture (I just typed pickle instead of picture. That's how much I liked those fried pickles). My reuben had
Morse's sauerkraut on it, too, which, you may recall, we discovered last year while vacationing in
Liberty. That sandwich made me all the more eager for our upcoming Liberty vacation. Days, go by faster. I want to be back on vacation in Maine!
And, finally, last night we stuffed ourselves silly on good, hearty New England fare at the
Publick House in Sturbridge, MA. When I say "stuff ourselves silly," I mean it. Look at this plate of food:
Yankee pot roast, mashed potatoes, and butternut squash (but left out of the photo were a very large bread basket, salad, soup, and the apple pie and indian pudding for dessert). My stomach and I didn't get along last night, but hey, it was worth it.
Non-Food:
In the non-food realm, our vacation has consisted of doing stuff. We've done some yard work, the majority of it on Friday when the weather was somewhat warm and pleasant. We weeded, Doug started his annual mulching project, and I planted my flower boxes and a couple of planters. Here are some photos of the day:
Saturday we decided to head to Portsmouth, but while we were getting our traditional "crossing the state border into one of the northern New England states" pit-stop drinks in Woburn, we decided to change course. The original plan was to go to Portsmouth, and maybe meet Chris and Chris there for an afternoon/evening meal if our non-existent planning worked out, but we threw caution to the wind and just headed straight for Maine. Good thing, too. We got more time to spend with the cutest little Ruby there is, and spent quality time with her parents, too. Doug and Ruby get along well. I have plenty of evidence of this on film, but here are a few shots to share:
Doug's a funny guy, indeed, and he has all kinds of funny things on his face to entertain babies, like large nostrils and a beard, and a funny, high-pitched voice that's normally reserved for the cats. I find that when we're around Ruby I'm more inclined to photograph her with Doug than hold her, because I know that Doug charms her in a way that I don't. I haven't figured out how to make sentences like "Little Ruby, how developed is your
palmar reflex today?" sound so funny and elicit so many giggles. Chris is lucky. He's Ruby's daddy, so he doesn't have to try to charm her - he does it automatically with his genetics.
And then on Sunday we did more yard work (won't bore you with the photos of our trimmed shrubs) and headed down to Sturbridge to meet my mother and brother for dinner. You saw our plates of mammoth portions, and while I certainly didn't need this much food my brother certainly did.
I love my brother, and for that reason, and because I'm the annoying little sister and it's my job, I am constantly after him to eat more. He's nothing but skin and bones. He bikes something like 15 miles a day, probably more, and eats things like yogurt and nuts, maybe occasionally a full meal. His activity levels and his food intake levels do not match up. At times I wish I could be more like him in this department, especially increasing my activity levels more, but at other times, like when I'm faced with a reuben from Po' Boys & Pickles or a veggie burger from Wild Willy's, I forget that I want people to feel each of my vertebrae as they hug me. Pass the fried pickles, please!
And when I do make an update to my flickr page, I'll be sure to include it in a post so that you can know to check it out.
However, lately my positivity levels have been charting something more like this (image from this site): 
Why's that, you ask? Well, this week it has something to do with these:
And with this:
This past Sunday, Doug and I visited UConn on our way back from visiting with his mother and father. Little did we know that it was commencement that day, but the line of traffic going up 195 didn't stop us. Or stop me. I was determined to get to the Dairy Bar. All the food that Doug's mother stuffed us with did not quell my desire for some ice cream. Some creamy, rich Dairy Bar ice cream (banana chocolate chip was Sunday's flavor of choice and it certainly did not disappoint). And then once we scarfed that down we walked over to the Co-Op, because if you have ice cream then you need books. And then once we spent some time in the co-op, we headed over to see the cows. 
though I find that he is more timid than I am with large farm animals. Back in our UConn days, Horsebarn Hill and the animal barns were a favorite place for us to hang out. I feel alive surrounded by nature, surrounded by nature's creatures (often the non-human kind), and so we spent many a day and evening walking there, talking, and petting the animals. I'll never forget petting a horse's smooth, velvety nose and trying to get Doug to do the same. It's as if I had asked him to pet a snake. What a city boy he was! But he's getting better. Still not as comfortable as me around the animals, 
but then again, I can't really blame him for not wanting to kiss that snotty snout, with bits of hay and grass stuck randomly about. I find it to be pleasantly enticing, but he - and probably the rest of the world - may just want to stick to admiring from afar.
then hiking through Beacon Hill and over to the North End, where we ate at Bacco and watched the Kentucky Derby. My desire to go to the Kentucky Derby someday has been solidified, and I might even be encouraged to wear one of those wild hats.
I get it at all Italian restaurants now. While I'm not completely convinced that there's any nutritional value to an eggplant, which uncooked feels a bit like a sponge and cooked has the consistency of pureed banana, I am completely convinced that it's better for me than a big plate of baked ziti and I think that it follows more closely my desire to live by a Mediterranean diet. 
Opened on Sunday when I was doing my self-assessment, and it was gone by the time I went to bed on Monday. If I am what I eat then I had better stay out of the sun and heat, otherwise I'll pop up into a nice, fluffy white piece of popcorn. Either that or a soft and squishy piece of eggplant with a nice dollop of sauce and mozzarella on top. Unfortunately, tonight for dinner it's a baked potato (and a desperate attempt to ignore the unopened bag of kettle corn in the cupboard). 
But hey, at least I have a window.
We got a couple of veggie burgers, and I have to say that Wild Willy's offers a mighty fine veggie burger.
I confess to never really ordering any of their great beer offerings, but I did once, and I was glad that I did - last year they offered this super-delicious fruity beer called Fruli, just about the best beer I've ever had. It was almost like a glass of strawberry juice, but not as sweet and a little thicker, heavier. I have not been able to find it since (though I admit to not looking too hard), but I hope BBC will have it again this year. I'd actually drink that beer without hesitation. 
Yankee pot roast, mashed potatoes, and butternut squash (but left out of the photo were a very large bread basket, salad, soup, and the apple pie and indian pudding for dessert). My stomach and I didn't get along last night, but hey, it was worth it.
Doug's a funny guy, indeed, and he has all kinds of funny things on his face to entertain babies, like large nostrils and a beard, and a funny, high-pitched voice that's normally reserved for the cats. I find that when we're around Ruby I'm more inclined to photograph her with Doug than hold her, because I know that Doug charms her in a way that I don't. I haven't figured out how to make sentences like "Little Ruby, how developed is your palmar reflex today?" sound so funny and elicit so many giggles. Chris is lucky. He's Ruby's daddy, so he doesn't have to try to charm her - he does it automatically with his genetics.
I love my brother, and for that reason, and because I'm the annoying little sister and it's my job, I am constantly after him to eat more. He's nothing but skin and bones. He bikes something like 15 miles a day, probably more, and eats things like yogurt and nuts, maybe occasionally a full meal. His activity levels and his food intake levels do not match up. At times I wish I could be more like him in this department, especially increasing my activity levels more, but at other times, like when I'm faced with a reuben from Po' Boys & Pickles or a veggie burger from Wild Willy's, I forget that I want people to feel each of my vertebrae as they hug me. Pass the fried pickles, please!
