How to Avoid Shovelling Snow

After the storm, Dave and I knew we had a lot of clean up to do.  So after breakfast, we bundled up and went outside.  Dave cleared about half of the driveway in front of the garage using the snow blower.  I helped him clear the Jeeps of snow, and then together we got most of the snow off the snowmobiles and the trailer. 

Let it be know that after this, I went to work continuing to shovel.  I cleared the back steps and the deck from this:

To this:

Do you like how the snow pile is almost level with the deck?

While I was busy with that, Dave decided it was time to play. And by play, I mean start up his snowmobile and run it up and down the street.  Behold (and excuse my shaky camera work):

It didn't take him 5 minutes to load the sled back on the trailer.  It took about 15 minutes worth of trying (I finished shoveling the deck by this point), and then he stopped because he couldn't get the sled lined up and kept sinking into the fluffy snow.  But before he moved on to clear the driveway, I needed to do one thing. 

I attempted to make a snow angel, but once I got on top of the snow, I kind of sunk in a few inches and then couldn't move my arms or legs to make wings.  Dave helped me up, but I think it looks more like the snow version of a chalk body outline in a crime scene than a snow angel.

We went inside, warmed up and grabbed some lunch, then went back out to finish the job.  Dave finally got to work and cleared the drive way (and put the sled back on the trailer), while I cleared the front steps.  I intended to walk towards the front door and then clear the snow backwards, from the door to the driveway.  Unfortunately, I went about 5 steps before I ran into a drift that came up to my hips and I could got any further.  So I started shoveling from there.  Luckily it was light and fluffy snow, so it wasn't hard.  But since there was 2 feet of it, it took multiple shovelfuls in the same spot to get down to the concrete.

A little fun and some mildly back-breaking labor, and we can get our cars up and down the driveway.  More importantly, we were able to get the trailer down the driveway and go snowmobiling in Hollis, NH with our friends Felise and Nick on Sunday.

Photo Op! Nick and Felise

And then Dave and me.

My brother texted me on Sunday if I preferred 2 feet of snow or morning jack hammers from a water main break.  The snow.  Definitely the snow.

Thanks for the snowmobile pictures, Felise!

Sleds & Snow

On Sunday morning, Dave and I got our stuff together and drove again up to Hollis, NH, to take our snowmobiles out for a little drive.  We belong to a group called Hollis No'Easters, a group of snowmobilers who maintain the trails in the Hollis area.  We went to Silver Lake again and this time, we went on a different set of trails, a little wider, a little more rolling, and as it turned out, a little more fun.

Shortly after getting on the trail, we found ourselves in an apple orchard, which was pretty cool.  Then a little while later, we were in a town park.  The trails are multi-use, meaning they aren't just reserved for snowmobilers.  Again, we saw people hiking with their dogs, snowshoeing and cross-country skiing.  This was a pretty popular area because the trail cuts through the park, but either side of the trail is restricted and snowmobiles aren't allowed, so people can play with their dogs, make snow angels, etc.

We ended up going almost 9 miles out on this trail, crossing roads and bridges, going around some quick turns and bumpy patches.  It's starting to get a little warm for January so some spots were sparse with snow, but it was still fun.  After a little break, we turned around a headed back.  Dave and I can't figure out why, but the trail was a lot more fun on the way back.  Maybe it was because we were familiar with it. Maybe because we were going uphill.  Or maybe because we were a little more comfortable with our snowmobiles.  Regardless, we had a good time. 

Then we got back to the orchard.  There were a few other snowmobilers out, but not many and the orchard was empty.  Even though we couldn't talk to each other, apparently Dave and I both had the same idea: Time to open this sucker up.  I hit the throttle and just went for it.  When I did look down and see that I was just shy of 30 mph, I laughed and let off a bit, pleased that I had the guts to do it.  Dave had a similar experience, but his sled was a little quick on the gas and he shot forward, getting up to 30 pretty quickly.

We had a great day out. It'll be too warm to be any fun this weekend, but hopefully over the next few week's New Hampshire will get a little more snow (notice how I qualified where I wanted the snow to be?) and we can go play some more before the end of the month.

First Run...Almost Made It

So last night, Central Massachusetts got it's first meaningful snow for the season.  We got a dusting for Christmas and about an inch on Friday morning.  But last night, we got about 10 inches of fresh, fluffy snow.  And Dave couldn't be happier.  All night he kept running to the windows,checking the accumulation.  Actually, I'm surprised he didn't wake up and jump up and down on the bed, exclaiming about how much snow we got.  I'm very proud that he didn't.

While we wanted to take our snowmobiles out, we haven't registered them yet and today the agent office was closed.  So we went cross country skiing at Great Brook Ski Touring Center.  It was a great day for it.  The sun came out, the powder was perfect for gliding, and I only fell once (over some ice at the very beginning). 

Dave and I came back home and cleared out some snow from around the house and Dave killed the downspout with the snow blower.

The little dark chunks to the left of the downspout are more pieces of downspout.  Dave is ashamed.

Then we decided to have some real fun.  Even though our snowmobiles aren't registered, we can ride them on our own property.  Behold: Dave turning our backyard into his own private, albeit tiny, snowmobile trail. (My apologies for the sideways-ness of this video...I actually thought I was taking it correctly.)

It was actually pretty fun.  Until we went to put the sled back on the trailer and Dave came up the slight incline only to run out of gas.  We didn't have that much gas in it to begin with, and I'm sure the slight tilt didn't help, but it was pretty funny to see that after going around the yard about 8 times, he didn't have enough in the tank to bring it home.

So close, yet so far.  Dave is again ashamed.

So on Dave's agenda for tomorrow is registering the snow mobiles and stopping for gas on the way home so we can get the sled back on the trailer (and hopefully go out on a real trail later this week).

This Is What Happens When You Don't Say No

So after last year's Halloween's snowstorm followed up promptly by a winter of, well, no snow, Dave is very anxious to get this winter started and bring on what he predicts will be snow of epic proportions.  I won't lie, I am kind of interested in it snowing so we can go cross-country skiing, since there are trails near our house.  Dave's excited by that prospect as well, but he's more excited about this.

Yes, those our snowmobiles and yes, they are ours.  Because I never told my husband no.  Truth be told, I'm excited about them too.  A few years ago, we took a winter trip to New Hampshire for some cross-country skiing and decided to rent a snowmobile.  It was kind of awesome.  Freezing cold, but awesome.  So when Dave told me he had "the need for speed" (yup, he used those words) and then made his argument, I could find no holes to poke in it, no ill-founded logic, and no reason to say no.  I never actually said yes, but I didn't discourage him.

So now, thanks to Craig's List, we have 2 sleds that will each hold two people (so we can take friends!) and a trailer to pull them with.  We decided to get two sleds so we could each drive (which is really the most fun part) and because on that bitter cold day a few years ago, we realized it's the driver who stays warm, so if we intend to go out for a few hours, we both want the advantages of the hand warmers and foot guards.  (Don't worry, friends.  These sleds actually have heated handle bars and foot guards in the back, so you'll be safe.  We didn't know that was an option until we already decided to get two sleds.  And I'll let you drive.  Maybe Dave will, too.)

November snow in Boston.

Thanks to the snow we got recently, Dave's quite anxious to get on the trails.  I could wait a bit, but yes, I'm looking forward to it too.  Especially looking forward to some snow over Christmas so we can take my Dad out (that sound is my brother getting jealous). 

But for the record, since I didn't say no to snowmobiles and let my husband drive a Lamborghini, I'm still waiting for my medal and/or cash prize (eh, just cash prize) for being the best wife ever. 

This Post Would Be Better With Pictures

Last Saturday, Dave and I went kayaking, but I didn't think to take my camera or my phone, so I have no pictures.  Which would make this story far more interesting.  I'll try with words instead.

We dropped into the Concord River not far from home and thought we'd paddle south toward the Old North Bridge.  We were going against the current and the wind, apparently so we'd have an easier time getting back (HA!) but we never actually considered how far that would be.  Seriously we thought it would be an easy little jaunt down the river.  The day was gorgeous, sunny, and warm with a slight breeze, and the leaves on the trees along the river bank were starting to turn in to pretty yellows and reds.  A few fishermen were out and a couple other kayakers, but for the most part the river was empty.  Empty enough that we saw a few heron at different points, apparently "fishing" for breakfast.  Nice and tranquil.

Until we were paddling for about an hour and still weren't at the bridge.  Three times I thought to myself, "It should be just beyond this bend."  Each time I was wrong.  We reached a fork in the river and Dave, ahead of me, asked me which way.  I honestly thought we were supposed to go to the left and said so.

Again, I was wrong. 

Turns out it was just a large cove. so I turned around, paddled out of the cove and almost made it to the turn to continue back down the river. 

Now at this point, my arms are sore because I'm not used to paddling for so long against the current and wind.  I'm starting to get blisters on my thumbs from the grip (and because I forgot my gloves and don't have squishy paddle grips,yet).  So I won't lie that I was mildly irritated when Dave called me from the back of the cove.

Dave: Colleen, come here.

Me (muttering to myself): This better be good.

I turned around and just as I started to paddle back, something popped up out of the water. And I swear it looked me in the eye.  We had a moment where I thought, "What the hell is that?" and it thought, "Ahh! I'm gonna die!"

I paddled back to Dave and saw he was looking at some sort of wooden, branch-like plant that was home to probably half a dozen turtles sunning themselves.

Ok, it was good.

There was another smaller plant of the same type of to the right.  It really just looked like leafless tree branches poking out of the water and there were a bunch of 4-7 inch turtles, I think they were painted turtles because they didn't look big enough to be snapping turtles.  Apparently we paddled not into a cove but into a turtle sanctuary!  We probably saw about 30 turtles either on the branches, dropping into the water or poking their heads out of the surface (must've been what I saw when I turned my boat around to come back).  It actually made me nervous to paddle out because I didn't want to hit any of them.

So after spending a little while watching the turtles and getting out of our paddling groove, we decided just to head back since our bodies were communicating their exhaustion.

By the way, I do not think it was easier on the way back.

Three Years is Personal Flotation Devices

Three years ago today, I married a man with infinite patience and a sense of humor enough to let me make fun of him publicly on the internet.  He's quite the catch, this man of mine. 

For a while, like several years, Dave and I talked about buying kayaks (one for each of us, because you know we each need our own boats).  Over Labor Day weekend, we redeemed a Groupon to try out the sit-on-top variety of kayaks, which we quickly dismissed upon being soaked from the water splashing into the boat and the complete lack of control (we were both listing in various directions).

After that excursion, we visited an independent outdoor store, New England Backpacker, and got some very good information about the type of kayak we'd want and why.  Seriously, we are so glad we went there because if left to our own devices, we would have royally screwed up the purchased.  Additionally, they said we could test-paddle the kayaks we were interested in by renting them for a day and if we decided to buy them, the rental fee would be taken off the purchase price.  Which was already on sale since it's the end of the season.  Score.

So last Saturday, we rented our desired kayaks, hit the same lake as the weekend before, and proceeded to paddle in absolutely terrible conditions.  It was super windy, the waves were choppy, we were paddling with the wind which meant we'd have to battle against it to get back, clouds threatened to unload on us, and on top of that we weren't exactly pleased with each other.  So we took a break, got out of the water and regrouped. 

Then we bonded over the two meatheads trying to get their small jet boat launched.  It was awesome. The one guy had no clue and the other guy had no grasp of telling his buddy what to do.  This thing was old and after he got the boat trailer in the water, the guy had to jump it with a battery box to get it started.  The engine sounded awful.  Dave watched, and actually helped at one point to give the guy a line to the dock, ticking all the various things they were doing wrong.  The best part was that they knew there were a bunch of rocks at the launch that needed to be avoided, at which they were successful.  Until they finally turned the boat the leave the launch and scraped the bottom over the rocks in the most fantastic of ways.  The sound was horrible and it could have easily been avoided, but at this point we knew they had no clue what they were doing.

Their boat was something like this--but older and more full of idiots.

After enjoying that show, we got back in our kayaks, got rained on a bit, but toured the rest of the lake before the winds got particularly heinous.  We really got a chance to figure out our kayaks and decide if we really wanted to get them.

By the time we got back to the shop to return the rentals, we decided we really wanted to buy these kayaks.  We have a lot of fun paddling, and there are a lot of opportunities for us to try different rivers and ponds not far from our house.  The guys at the shop were great hooking us up with everything we needed, sizing us appropriately and making sure we were comfortable.  When we paid for it all, I turned to Dave and said, "Happy Anniversary!"  Maybe molded plastic and life vests will be the new contemporary third anniversary gift.

So, there you go Dave.  You now have your own boat.  Please stop asking me for a sailboat, because I don't know which anniversary nylon and dacron are given.

Looking for Zebras

So my car died.  Well, not completely, but it's not working.  I got off the train last night, walked to my car and unlocked it--no problems.  Then I tried to turn it on and got nothing.  Didn't even pretend to turn over.  I double checked that I didn't do anything stupid like leave the lights on (nope, that was all copacetic).  So I called Dave, mildly frustrated, who was at home and could get to me quicker than a tow truck.

Being handy with cars, Dave of course wanted to investigate the problem a bit.  So he poked around, tried starting the car himself, watched the gauges (as they did nothing) and poked at all the connections and fuses running from the battery and the power distributor.

Hungry and in need of a bathroom, I was growing cranky at the examination.  So I texted Stacy, my one friend who knows about cars and boys trying to fix problems without success.

Me: I love my husband by my car battery seems to have died in the train station parking lot and rather than jump it, he's been checking all the fuses for the past 10 minutes.

Stacy: LOL.  Breath deeply, he's a "c" personality, he's checking all the little things to be sure it's just a jump you need and not a tow.

Stacy: He hears horses but wants to look at all of them in case there's a zebra.

Me: Best. Line. Ever.  I do suppose I have to love him.

I did convince Dave to at least try to jump the car because he was ready to leave without even doing that.  Not wanting to call a tow truck only to find out we could have been done and over with it, I asked if he'd at least try to rule out the possibility.

Me: Well he was right. I do need a tow.

Stacy: Zebra!!!

I laughed and got out of my car-trauma induced funk.  Stacy's good for that.  Plus she's a Spanish teacher who does a wicked funny Russian accent and will whip it out at random occasions with a whole Russian "old country" persona.  Everyone needs a friend who will randomly change accents and pretend to have lived a different life.

Dave and I left the car in the parking lot, went home and had dinner.  Then we called AAA for a tow and headed back to the car to wait.  Dave brought a volt meter this time and confirmed that the battery had plenty of power so clearly the problem was something electrical or with the car's computer.

About an hour later, the tow driver came and essentially ran through all the checks that Dave did and then some.  Eventually he either ran out of ideas of Dave wore him down by repeating, "Yeah, we really just need a diagnostics check, so let's just tow it to our mechanic."  Meanwhile, I texted Stacy again.

Me: The tow truck driver was looking for zebras too.

Me: He did not find any.

Stacy: LOL.  Alternator?

Me: Probably electrical.

Stacy: Bummer, replace 10 fuses cuz one blew.  I hate that!

Me: He checked all the fuses.  It's probably a wire or computer issue.

Stacy: Not a zebra.  A Horse of Many Colors.  Silly boys, mislead by hoofbeats.

Me: I'm imaging you saying this in a Russian accent.

Stacy: Good.  Is much funnier, ja.

I cringed watching him hook my car (unnecessarily--the driver was very cautious) and we drove off to leave our mechanic a reason to scratch his head in the morning about why our car randomly showed up.  I still don't know what's wrong with it, but Dave will talk to the mechanic this morning.  I'm not sure how he feels about horses and zebras.

I'm the Best Wife Ever...Apparently

Back in April when it was clear that Dave was likely getting a job, I saw a Groupon that had Dave's name written all over it.  The opportunity to drive a luxury sportscar.  Seriously?  My husband, who often starts a conversation with, "When I have my Firebird one day...", watches more car shows than I knew existed and owns several of the Fast and Furious movies, really needed to have this experience. 

So I asked him if he'd be interested and (duh) he said absolutely.  I bought it on the condition that if he didn't get a job, then I'd get to drive the car (psst....that never would have happened).  After the Groupon came through and the reservation system was set up with Imagine Lifestyles, the company based solely on renting high end sportcars to people with nothing better to spend their money on but not quite enough money to indulge in one of these cars personally, Dave was able to choose his car.

There were five options: Mercedes Gullwing, Audi R8, Ferrari 430, Ferrari 599 and Lamborghini Gallardo.  He didn't want the Mercedes because it didn't seem interesting enough and we had watched an episode of Top Gear where Rutledge drove one and could get the doors closed after getting it.  Dave nixed the Audi because we actually know someone with one (who doesn't like it) and frankly, he could test drive one if he really wanted to.  Both a Mercedes and an Audi seem like more attainable vehicles.  Sure he probably would never buy one and certainly not the Gullwing or the R8, but the brand is accessible.  I was surprised that Dave didn't choose either of the Ferraris but as it turns out, he's just not that into them.  But the Lamborghini....now that's something I'd seen him notice on the highway.  Covet is probably too strong a word, but he definitely noticed the orange one zooming around Boston and liked what he saw.

On Saturday morning we headed to Foxboro to Gillette Stadium where they set up a course in one of the large parking lots.  I must love my husband because in addition to treating him to this experience, I actually went to the home of the New England Patriots to watch him do this.  Because really there is no other reason for me to ever go there.

It was a gorgeous day and the staff had things very well organized.  There was a reasonable crowd, but only about half the people were driving and things did move pretty quickly (well, they are fast cars).  The staff was pretty good about letting people take pictures of their drivers and generally made sure that everyone who wanted to could get a picture of their driver in their car at the starting area. 

Who's driving a Lambo?  This guy.

Dave said his instructor was great and basically told him to just listen and hit the gas.  Eager to please, Dave said sure and for most of his three laps he had the pedal to the floor.  Dave said he didn't get a chance to look at the speedometer during the straightaways but he did notice coming out a turn at about 60 miles per hour.

At work on Friday morning, I was chatting with colleagues about weekend plans and mentioned that I bought this experience for Dave.  My coworker Matthew looked at me and said, "You are seriously the best wife ever."  When Dave got out of his car, with a huge smile on his face, I asked him if he had fun.  He said yes, and then thanked me, saying "You're the best wife ever."

Eh, I do what I can. 

Plus, I figure between this and my failed trip to Germany, I'm due for something really big.

A Weekend in Portland

Last weekend Dave and I decided to take a quick weekend away to Portland, Maine, for a vacation of eating, relaxing, walking around the city and biking.  We were able to do most of that.

Since we moved into Dave's parents house, we sold a lot of stuff on Craig's List.  A LOT.  So we had this giant wad of cash and as it grew, we decided to make it our vacation fund.  We knew we'd only end up with enough for a weekend away, someplace close that we could drive to.  We decided to go to Portland since I'd never been there, they had great restaurants with amazing food, and we would be able to walk the whole city or ride our bikes all around.  We'd initially scheduled the trip for this coming weekend, but Dave has to travel for work on Sunday and as I tried to find another weekend to go, it seemed the best price on the hotel we wanted during the summer would be to go right away. So we did.

We left work on Friday and drove up to Maine, checking into the Residence Inn Marriott on Fore Street.  We booked a Brew with a View package, which included a bucket of beers and other swag from Shipyard Brewing Company just next door to the hotel.  And when we checked in, we were given a complimentary upgrade to a suite on the top floor with a view of the harbor.  Not bad.

We settled in, cleaned up and then headed off to dinner at David's Restaurant, which had some pretty good reviews on OpenTable and a nice menu.  The night was cool, but summery and there were people walking about, but very little vehicle traffic, typical of the city--or at least the Old Port and Theatre District areas.  The restaurant was at Monument Square and there were street performers entertaining quite a large crowd when we got to the square.  The restaurant was very busy but we got seated at a table at the bar right away thanks to my making a reservation as Dave pulled off the highway.

We ordered drinks (a lovely Manhattan for me and a gin drink for Dave) and settled into the menu.  The dishes all sounded great and there was a good variety from pizza to entrees. Dave opted for the clam chowder with bacon (because it had bacon) and the open-faced lobster ravioli, which ended up coming with shrimp and scallops in a bisque-like sauce.  I ordered the garden salad and the meatloaf with mashed potatoes and mushroom gravy.  Everything was delicious.  The presentation was lovely, our waitress was very sweet and it was definitely the perfect way to start our weekend.  We finished by splitting a piece of snickers cheesecake and headed back to the hotel.

We thought about stopping into a bar on the way back, but instead decided to head to the hotel lounge which was featuring happy hour.  Dave ordered a beer and I got a cocktail and we sat in the lovely plush chairs making our plan for the next day.

Not that it mattered what we planned since we woke up to rain.  No biking for us.  After breakfast from the hotel buffet, we took a walk to the Eastern Promenade, just to take a look out at the ocean.  The rain was pretty steady and the wind was pretty awful.  But it was a decent walk.  And along the way, we made a friend.

After our walk, we went to Maine Mead Works where they make Honeymaker Mead.  I'd never had mead before, but Dave had (much to his chagrin).  But we like these kinds of tours, and neither of us really knew anything about mead, and they were offering a tasting so why not.  We walked in and were greeted by Ron, who I think is the owner.  He gave us a tour (just the two of us, which was kind of cool) and told us all about how they make mead, how they are growing, and how they get the different flavors.  It was all very cool and unique.  Very "microbrew" is concept, but totally scalable, it was very interesting to talk to the business owner on one of these tours.  We ended with a tasting, and two other couples ended up coming in to join as well.

Let me talk about the tasting: this was cool.  Like I said, I'd never had it before, but I really liked the honey flavor that defines this mead.  It's crisp and slightly sweet, but not like a sweet wine.  And there's still a slight element of it being a cousin to beer.  Dave and I both really liked the Blueberry, so we bought a bottle and are looking forward to having it at home.

After the mead tasting (and being a bit tipsy), we went to lunch at Duckfat, which may be the actual reason we chose to go to Portland at all.  Several years ago we saw this restaurant featured on Phantom Gourmet and they positively raved about the fries, which are cooked in--can you guess?--duck fat. Those fries totally lived up to the hype.  They were crunchy on the outside but soft on the inside, perfectly seasoned and just pure joy.  We ordered the Truffle Ketchup and the Sweet and Spicy Mustard Mayo. The ketchup was good but completely took away from the flavor of the fries, while the mustard mayo was a really nice compliment.  Dave ordered their Spicy Italian panini and I went with the special BBQ Beef Brisket panani.  We were both utterly satisfied at having braved the rainy weather to venture to this restaurant.  It was busy and we sat at the bar, but the staff were friendly and very much on top of things.  We'll absolutely be headed back there.

The completely nondescript front door of Duckfat, which has no sign, just a little lettering on the door.

After lunch, we visited Shipyard Brewing Company for a video tour (a little history of the brewery), a peek at their bottling line (the largest in Maine) and a bit of a tasting, both of the beers and Captain Eli's soda, which they also make and sell.  It was a big crowd for the tour, including a bachelor party and a bachelorette party (not related).  The best part was noticing that the guys with the bachelor party insisted the groom wear a hot pink sash with the title "It's all about me."  I can only imagine the ruckus caused by that conversation in the morning.  Although I also enjoyed that the tour started in a room filled with church pews and awards the brewing company has won.

The beer was very good; I'd never had it before (Dave had one of the bottles left in our room the night before), but I liked it.  And apparently their pumpkin beer (Pumpkinhead) is supposed to be amazing.  Given my love of the Harpoon Pumpkin UFO, I think a taste test is in order this fall.

We headed back to our room to digest (or sober up, we'd had a bit of alcohol from the tastings and it wasn't even happy hour yet) and watched movies.  We scoured menus, maps and brochures trying to pick a place for dinner.  Dave settled on Gilbert's Chowder House based on their award winning chowders and the fact that he was pretty sure it was a complete dive (not quite complete, but close). 

We braved the rain one more time, but I must admit, we lost this battle.  Gilbert's is on the last street perpendicular to the wharfs, so between the driving rain (it was pouring at this point) and the wind, we never stood a chance.  Rain coats and umbrellas were only good for keeping our heads dry  Walking to the restaurant, the rain drove right into our left sides, drenching us completely from the waste down.  We settled into our dinners (fried shrimp for Dave and a grilled chicken salad for me), enjoyed our beers, and drip-dried (somewhat) at our table that was luckily placed near the heater.  Besides being wet and rainy, the weather was also quite chilly, never getting out of the mid-fifties and probably dipping into the forties with the wind chill.  Luckily we emerged to a slightly lighter rain so that our right side didn't bear the wet brutality that we endured getting to our dinner.

Back in our room, cozy and dry, we called it a night, despite desperately wanting to go get dessert or even just get a drink somewhere.  But we'd pretty much had our fill of walking in the rain (and didn't have any dry pants other than pajamas).

Sunday was still rainy, but less intense.  After breakfast, we packed up and checked out.  Instead of leaving right away, we drove down to the other end of Fore Street and hoped to find some shops open.  We found Cool as a Moose which is a fun and funky gift shop with moose and Maine related paraphernalia among other amusing goods.  We poked around for a while and then bought a couple fun T-shirts for Dave, a pair of moose pajama pants for me and a baby gift for a friend.  By the time we were done browsing and shopping, East End Cupcakes was open.  So we stopped in for the dessert we didn't get the night before: a Funfetti Cupcake for Dave and a Salted Carmel Dark Chocolate Cupcake for me.  We didn't eat them until we go home, but I think we were both a little disappointed.  The frosting was pretty good (although I tasted mostly caramel until my last bite which was full of salt) but the cake was a little dry.  Pretty little desserts, but we'll likely try another bakery next time we visit.

We headed out of Portland but decided to stop in Kittery, Maine, for some outlet shopping.  We found a few things (well, found a few things that I wasn't looking for; Dave did not find anything that he was looking for) and then searched for a place for a late lunch.  We found Warren's Lobster House which sits right on the water.  We were surprised for how busy, but luckily were seated right away and had a booth overlooking the water.  Warren's has a pretty extensive salad bar with lots of goodies, so I enjoyed that with my chicken, while Dave added crab cakes and fried clams . 

We had a lovely lunch, watched the weird little birds trying to catch fish (some sort of gull or cousin of a seagull, but way smaller than you'd expect) and tried to transition from vacation mode.  For a last minute trip, and in spite of the terrible weather, we had a really great weekend.  The only thing we didn't get to do was ride our bikes, which just means we have to go back again.  Luckily it's only a 2 hour drive, so I think I convince Dave to go back.  Especially if I promise to stuff him full of seafood again.

I Did Say I'd Get My Own Boat

When Dave and I first started dating, I was living in Central Pennsylvania, in an area that basically existed for two reasons: 1) the college I worked at (and had graduated from); and 2) the Raystown Lake.  The lake is very much a recreational area that attracts lots of people for boating, fishing and other related outdoor activities.  So when Dave was visiting me over the summer, and I needed to up my outdoor activities if I ever planned to keep up with this Mountain Man, we decided to rent a canoe and head out on the lake. 

I don't know why I thought this would be fun.  I was (and still am) hopelessly uncoordinated and not quite interested in being outdoors with the heat and the bugs and canoeing is like real work.  Ug. I even wore Dave's generally infinite patience thin while we struggled to find a cove for our picnic lunch and then of course I was even more unmotivated to not be a complete pain in the ass while we negotiated out way back.  In the end, Dave basically said never again, but well.  We did try again a few years later in a much more relaxed environment (and with a friend so we were on our best behavior).  Then we discovered kayaking would be a far better paddle sport for us, since we could each get out own boat.  That was actually fun.  A couple summers ago we each rented kayaks and headed out on a local river for an afternoon.  Being far more mature and slightly more interested in being outside (despite the bugs and the heat), but still hopelessly uncoordinated, we had a lovely afternoon and have since talked about getting kayaks for ourselves so we could do it more often.

Fast forward to this past Saturday.  Beautiful weather, a long weekend, the unofficial start of summer.  Clearly a perfect day for a little kayak trip.  We'd been hoping to check out a local boat house on a different river a few miles from home, so we looked it up.  The rates were good, but of course if we get a tandem boat, it would be even cheaper.

Me: Yeah, but remember the last time we did tandem?

Dave: But this is different.  Kayaking is easier to do tandem than canoeing.

Me: I don't know, I think I should get my own boat.

Dave: No, it'll be fun.  You'll be fine.

You know that saying about famous last words?  Yeah, insert that here.

We arrived at the South Bridge Boat House to start our trip on the Concord River.  They have single and tandem kayaks as well as canoes for rent, and since it was a great day, they were pretty busy.  We didn't really care since it was just for fun and planned to head up to the Old North Bridge (you know, Revolutionary War, shot heard 'round the world, blah, blah, history, blah), about a mile and a half up river. 

So we started paddling and then I noticed we were drifting to the left.  Apparently this was my fault.  So repeatedly Dave made me stop playing (he didn't actually fire me) so he could straighten us out/get us back on the right side of the river.  When I got permission to play again, we'd be ok for a while, then of course we'd start drifting (again, my fault).  Now, bear in mind, the last time I kayaked was at least 3 years ago and that was my first time.  Also note, Dave did not give me a refresher course in paddling physics despite the fact that he knows I make stuff up when left to my own devices to determine mechanical or physics-related logic.  And I'm almost always "wrong."  (That last bit is in quotes because Dave says I'm wrong about a lot of science-related stuff, but I think he just wants to the science brain in this relationship, so he tells me I'm wrong even when I make a genius statement.)

At some point this whole thing just became comical and while I couldn't stop laughing, I do think Dave was at least mildly amused (I tried several times to take his photo but seeing as how I wasn't interested in flipping the boat over in an attempt to turn around and get a good one, I can't only assume this smile wasn't completely contrived).  I also repeatedly informed him that I had been the one to suggest we each get our own boat, but he was the one that insisted we'd be fine.

So finally, as we approached the Old North Bridge, having avoided any collisions (with other boats--I did try to goose some geese but they flew away) Dave, who was sitting in the back, noticed why we were bearing left and educated me.  And then I noticed that we were bearing right when he paddled, so I made fun of him.  To which he said it was only because he was overcompensating for me but I like to think it just proved we were meant to be together because if I bear to the left and he bears to the right, then together we should be in perfect harmony. 

Except really we weren't.  Instead we literally zigzagged a little over 3 miles round-trip on the Concord River.  Dave said it was exhausting.  I said it was getting our money's worth because we got to see more of the river that way.  When we pulled in to shore and the worker there helped us out, he asked, "How was it?"

Me: He said I have to get my own boat next time.

Stuff My Husband Says

Dave (after dropping something on the kitchen floor): Oops.  I've got the dropsies today.

Me: Are you pregnant?

Dave: No, but I am feeling a little bloated.

Unpacking My Bags

Several years ago when Donald Trump's catch-phrase of "You're fired," became a part of day-to-day lexicon, Dave and I took it a step further and used it to express exasperation for any transgression the other many have made.  For example, if Dave for got to take out the trash, I'd tell him he was fired.  If I forgot to pick up the dry cleaning, I was fired.  We probably fire each other from various things at least once daily, more on the weekends. 

Yesterday I fired Dave from inviting me on vacations. 

Turns out, that I'm not actually allowed to accompany him on this particular trip to Germany, even if I pay my own way.  I'm not exactly sure why.  But in any case, I was sullen and fired Dave, then told him that in the future he should get all the details before inviting me on a European vacation. 

Then I told him that he totally owes me and it should be big, shiny and come in pairs.

Packing My Bags

Last night Dave came home. Yay!  I missed having him around and even though it was for a good cause (work and all), I was glad to have him home.  While we were catching up, we talked about his two upcoming trips--another to Chicago for a day or so in mid-June and then a trip to Germany at the end of June for a week long training at their company headquarters.

He also told me about some of the sage advice he got from Jason, the sales representative he shadowed in Pittsburgh (the first piece being to turn off work--literally, phone, tablet and laptop--every Friday at 4 pm).  I haven't even met Jason, but I feel compelling to sent him cookies.

We talked some more about Dave's Germany trip--the 12 hour flight; changing planes in a foreign city, just being somewhere so unlike anywhere he's ever been.

Dave: Oh and Jason said I should take you.

Me (a little shocked): Oh. ?

Dave: Do you want to go?

Me (I): Um, yes.

What I should have said was, "Dude, lead with the invitation to Germany."

I studied German for 12 years, from first grade through high school and have always wanted to go.  My schedule didn't allow for me to study abroad in college, and I haven't had a class since I was 18, but dude, really?  I'll have to pay my own way, but that's ok, because I'll be in freakin' Germany.

Dave doesn't have the details yet (well, he does know the dates and his flight, but he didn't remember them when we talked), but I do know we're headed to Schwabach, which is in Bavaria. I see much beer in our future.

In the interim, I'll need to brush up on my German skills.  Good thing I work with people who are from there...maybe if I buy them lunch they'll ignore the fact that my grammar is horrendous and I forget words...a lot.  But I do remember how to order a beer and ask for the restroom.  You know, important stuff.

New Job + Travel + In Laws Back Home + End of Semester= Busy!

It's called new math.  It's accurate and I'll show my work.

Dave started his new job last week.  He was supposed to start this week so he could (mostly) finish his temp job (he would have missed the very last day).  However, just after they settled that start date, the company announced that the manager who would train Dave (Kristof, the same guy Dave is friends with who helped him get the position in the first place) is leaving the company at the end of May.  So in a rush to conduct a knowledge transfer (Kristof had been in charge of the sales territory Dave is taking over), the bumped up the start date and Dave hit the ground running.  Quite literally.  He spent an afternoon connecting with another sales person to get his company car (it's another Jeep. Seriously? We're starting to look like a dealership.).  After spending the weekend cleaning the car (it was filthy--and that was just the inside) and organizing all his materials, he started last week by visiting clients, former clients, and would-be clients with Kristof, learning pretty much everything he knows and presenting at a vendor show in Boston.  And then he traveled to Chicago this week to do the normal training stuff (first day on the job, ease your way into it thing) before heading to Pittsburgh last night to go to another vendor show with another sales person.  The good news was that he got to see my brother while he was in Chicago and he'll get to see my dad tonight in Pittsburgh.  I'm just hoping he thinks enough to bring me a Smiley cookie from Eat N Park when he comes home tomorrow night.

In the midst of this, Dave's parents came home last week.  It's nice to see them after they've been away for over 4 months, but of course having all of us living in the house is a bit of an adjustment.  We're working it out though and staying out of each others' way (I think).  But with Dave out of town this week, I've been taking advantage of getting a bunch of errands and other stuff done after work, so we really haven't gotten into an actual routine yet.  Maybe next week we'll figure it out.  Madaline and Ernie will be home for a few weeks and then have some short trips planned in the summer and fall before they figure out exactly where they're headed in the winter.

And of course, work is busy with the end of the semester and the crazy things that come with that.  Like students who can't read and faculty who ask really bizarre questions that I've answered six times already this semester.  But it's not all bad.  We've had some lovely guests in class the past week who were actually delightful and appreciative, which is always nice.

Plus Dave and I got to see the Avengers last weekend before he left.  It was awesome.  Go see it.  Like right now.

This is Me Shouting from the Rooftops

DAVE GOT A JOB!!!!!!

Yup, we're super excited.  I started this blog about a month after Dave got laid off and after 2 years, 3 months, hundreds of resumes sent out and dozens of interviews and meetings in 3 different states, we are proud to announce that not only does Dave have a new, REAL job (he has been working a temp job since January), but it's in the field he wanted so he's successfully moving into a new career.

After years in the lab and being an unemployed foster dad to our lovely four-legged friends, then working a very short term position that ends in three weeks, Dave landed a position in lab equipment sales that he'll be great at.  His technical background, having used most of the equipment he'll sell, will really help him be successful.  I'm so proud of him and how hard he's worked to get to exactly where he wants to be.  He made getting a job a full time job, even when it was hard and discouraging.  Even when he spent over a year talking to and meeting with about a dozen people from the same company, hoping to convince them to find a place for him (oh, yeah, the job isn't even with them!), he pushed through.  Even when the unemployment checks stopped and we tightened our belts even more, he tried to stay positive and kept me sane, telling me of all the things we'd do and places we'd go "when I get a job." 

It hasn't been easy and I certainly don't wish these circumstances on anyone, but I am so proud that he was able to find exactly what he wanted and stay true to his commitment of not going back into the lab.  Spending the first years of our marriage dealing with unemployment and a career shift hasn't been a picnic, but I know it's made us a stronger couple and we'll be able to get through the next challenges that lie ahead because we've become a pretty good team.   

We are so thankful to all our friends and family who have been supportive and understanding these past few years. Knowing when to ask about Dave's prospects (and even more, when to stop asking), definitely helped us know we had people on our side.  Our gifts have been meager (but made with love) and we appreciate all the friends who never pressured us to go out and let us host them in our home so we could be conscience of our budget. 

Celebrations will come and we'll share the celebrating with all our friends at some point.  But in the meantime, I've been promised a honeymoon and it looks like we might actually get to take it.  Guess we should decide where we want to go.

I Can't Make This Up

Conversation between Dave and I the other night:

Dave: I'm going to be busy tomorrow.  I got a lot of stuff to do.

Me: Oh yeah?

Dave: Yeah.  I got a shed to clean out.  I have 3 cars to wash.  I have to go to the hoobajoo to get the spinny thing.

Me: The who and the where?

Dave: The hoobajoo...you know, to get the fan.

Me (laughing, hard): No, I don't know.

Dave: Well, I couldn't get storage locker and since I was committed to hoobajoo, I couldn't say, 'I need to go to the hoobajoo to get the...fan.'  That wouldn't sound right.

Demolition Day

So when Dave and I moved into his parents house, one of the things I was excited about was the laundry on the main living level rather than the basement.  No more forgetting about the laundry--I'd actually be able to hear the buzzer go off!  The laundry is in the family room and is separated by an accordion door. 

I hate that door.

The door was fitted to the room before the current carpet was installed and unfortunately the carpet is either too tall or the door too long.  After over 20 years of dragging across the carpet, it basically decided it didn't want to work properly anymore and started breaking at the top, causing panels to drop down and meet the floor, making it impossible to open the door without lifting the whole thing up while trying to push it across the opening.  Since my in-laws were already away when we moved in, Madaline actually left a post-it on the door with instructions on how to open it. 

Sometimes that worked. 

Often it didn't.

Yup it's crooked.

And then the doorknob started to come off randomly.

Needless to say it was not a good scene.

Just a small section of panels no longer attached to the track and dragging along the carpet.

So Dave and I decided we'd help them out (and save my sanity) by replacing the door.  A few weeks ago we took a trip to Lowe's, ordered a custom-fit door with the proper length, and waited.  Luckily Dave got a call last week that the door was in and since he had a few days of, he picked it up and we planned to install it this weekend.  I made him promise to let me help take out the old door.  He promised, but on the condition that I help him put up the new door.

He sure knows how to suck the fun out of stuff, huh?

But he made it up to me.  He let me use the Sawzall.  You know what that does?  It saws ALL.  Submitted for your amusement:

The finished product:

Dave then had the fun part of cutting the pieces up even more so that we can recycle them.  Luckily, he was able to make them all fit into one recycle bin.

After that, we did put up the new door, which pretty much consisted of me opening all the little packs of hardware and handing things to Dave like a operating room technician to a surgeon, on far less intense and much more pouting on my part.

But in the end we now have a beautiful, working, non-dragging on the carpet door that opens and closes at my whim.

It really is the simple things in life.