Sleepy Hollow, NY

Like most children, I grew up watching "The Adventures of Mr. Toad and Ichabod Crane" (with a concentrated emphasis on the Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman) and it wasn't until we moved to Philadelphia that I discovered that Sleepy Hollow is an actual place.  And for a girl who loves all things spooky?

Translation:  Dani and Kurt spend All Hallows Eve 2009 in Sleepy Hollow.

The actual town of Sleepy Hollow is nestled along the Hudson River, about 30 minutes north of Manhattan.  I was delighted to see just how much of the story is incorporated into everyday life here.

We took a haunted hayride through Sleepy Hollow's Cemetery, complete with ghoulish host

who re-told the story of the Headless Horseman as we crept by silent headstones and the wind blew through the trees.  Very spooky! 

(okay, I know it's a crappy photo, but you try snapping a crisp shot from a jostling hayride, in the dark, with a moving target. :)

The highlight for me was Sleepy Hollow Cemetery.  Absolutely breathtaking foliage. 

These crypts are built right into the hillside and Kurt was not excited about getting close to that door.  They're not sealed and peeking in the slats gave me the shivers.  Kurt too.

And wouldn't you know it?  Look who's buried here.  How fitting.

This church borders the cemetery. (yes, my eyes are closed. no, we didn't realize it until about 5 mintues ago)

And the famed bridge?  Now a two-laner.

Happy Halloween!

Much Requested

1.  Carla, Parker, and Megan spent the weekend with us. Collectively we saw: The White House, Lincoln Memorial, Washington Monument, SPY Museum, WWII Memorial, Reflection Pool, Arlington Cemetery, DC Temple, GWU Campus, Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty, Times Square, WTC Memorial Site, Liberty Bell, Reading Terminal Market, Independence Hall, Ben Franklin’s Grave, Boathouse Row, Temple Univ., UD, and…. drumroll please… the King of Prussia Mall. All in 2.5 days. Whew! Family is the best.

2. Our recycling cans were stolen. And for two people who take their recycling very seriously… well, I’m beyond PO’d. Kurt contemplated walking door to door asking our neighbors if they are the culprits.

3. My Iris’s have sprouted. WTH? Do they not know WINTER is just around the corner?

4. I bought a seat cushion at the “Only on TV” store that has a hole for your tailbone. Whoever knew such a cushion could be so comfortable?

5. Our car has been hit now THREE times since we’ve moved here. (one per year) The first was because someone tried to pass Kurt on the left while he was making a left hand turn. The second was a fender bender with a lady who is not insured (which has made me wonder what the point of having insurance is if you can hit people and THEY have to pay for it…) and this third one? A hit and run. I’m scared to think what is coming next year.

6. Kurt’s fish tacos make me weak in the knees.

7. I just read “The Midwife” and loved it.

8. Changes at work have led to deep reflection about what I really want out of life.

9. My nephew can now hold a conversation with me on the phone. (He thinks I'm his grandma though... I play along).  What has happened to the baby I left behind??

10. The Philadelphia Phillies are once again in the World Series. I can only hope they win again so my neighbor will stand on his porch in his underwear, banging a frying pan. Love those Phanatics! And I love my city!

11. Thanksgiving is around the corner. Go somewhere and risk the East Coast holiday traffic? Or be boring and stay at home? Decisions, decisions.

12. I bought all the Halloween candy a week ago, filled the bowl and set it out. Kurt requested I put it in the storage room so he wouldn’t be tempted. I pulled it out on Saturday only to find ALL the chocolate missing. LOL. I love that guy.

The toilet episode.

Most of the time I’m a creature of habit. I wake up each morning on fourth “snooze” session (6:24, if you’re interested). I eat the same breakfast, watch the same TV shows, used the same chap stick brand (and flavor) for years; so it should be no surprise to you that I choose to use the same restroom stall at work. It’s the second one from the door, and as far as I can tell it’s the best one.

Well, this morning I made my way to the ladies room, found “my” stall empty and then realized the lock was broken. Gah! What’s a girl to do? Heaven forbid I should have to use one of the other seven open stalls when mine is fully functioning (with the exception of one very important feature, the lock).

I jimmy rigged the lock in such a way that it would close but one time. Voilà! Success! (or, so I thought)  At that moment I made a disastrous mistake. I failed to visualize my experiment from start to finish. I was now locked inside my beloved stall.

This was a strange realization for me. I’m a bit of a claustrophobic person (I hyperventilated once as a child when I got stuck behind the couch) and the thought of being trapped in a restroom stall was causing me internal panic. My choices?
1. Yell for help (über embarrassing, especially when the nearest office to the ladies room is the FBI Forensic Lab)
2. Break the lock (with what? Toilet paper? My tube of Piña Colada Soft Lips?)
or
3. Crawl under the door. Ewww. Why is the easiest option also the most grotesque? Ack… I pondered this for a good 45 seconds (and suddenly, my urge to pee was gone. Weird.) before surrendering myself to the filth that is a public restroom floor.

Oh good gosh.

Imagine me on my belly (in business casual, mind you) scooting under a low restroom stall all while keeping my face as far away from the floor as I can, using my bare hands as little as possible and trying my best to keep my blonde locks from sweeping up the pubes that I KNOW are there. Did I also mention the dividers are ridiculously close to the floor? Hello. Claustrophobic attack.

Afterwards, I had a little meeting with myself about OCD tendencies and the repercussions of blindly succumbing to them.

New England with a brother.

Kurt's older brother, Brant, flew in to spend last weekend with us. He lives in San Francisco, which means we see him only once a year; twice if we're lucky. It gave us a supreme excuse to live it up at our favorite Mexi-hole this side of the Mississippi.  El Vez.

Our reservation was for 8:30 and we were there by 8:15. The place was absolutely packed. We made our way to the hostess counter to say the "Vest party" had arrived.

(photo courtesy of gophila.com)

Kurt: Hi, we're the "Vest" party of three.
Hostess: {scanning the reservations} There's no "Vest" on tonight's reservation.
Kurt: I personally made the reservation. It has to be there. Is it under "Kurt Vest"?
Hostess: Nothing. The wait's about an hour and a half... do you want me to put your name down?
Dani: What about "Kurt Best"? Sometimes people get it mixed up.
Hostess: Ummm.... lets's see... there's a "Kurt Sweater" for three? At 8:30?
Kurt: That's it. I said "Kurt Vest, like a sweater" when I made the reservation. {rolling his eyes in the YOU ARE AN IDIOT kind of way}
Hostess: Oh. Yes.  Of course.

Luckily we were seated on time and promptly ordered the Indian Red Lopez Guacamole. It's laced with lump crab meat, lime, cilantro and salsa. Oh so divine.

(photo courtesy of gophila.com)

We all ordered tacos because they're the star at El Vez (in our opinion) and my favorite has to be the Sea Bass. It's a delectable taco stuffed with grilled sea bass, sweet potato purée, grilled scallions, and a fried jalapeño.

(photo courtesy of gophila.com)

Boston was our weekend destination of choice, seeing as none of us had ever been there so Saturday morning we packed up the car. Traffic on I-95, congestion on the George Washington Bridge and the parking lot that is The Bronx, made our 5.5 hour drive more like 9 hours. Ugh. BUT, our 7:30 arrival meant we were just in time for some "Boston Chowda".  And the best place to find it? Union Street. Home of the oldest restaurant and tavern in the country.

(photo courtesy of gophila.com)

The wait was a bit long so we ordered clam chowder, cheesy garlic bread and a plate of field greens to share from a basement pub, The Salty Dog. Best chowda in town!

Boston really is a beautiful city. Comparing it to Philadelphia (which I all I can do at this point) I was very impressed by just how, you know, clean, it felt.. You didn't see trash littering the sidwalks or blowing up on people's cars. The parks were well taken care of. Very pleasant.  Maybe I'm just ready for a new city.

(Plus, their fried clams at Quincy Market might warrant a repeat road trip. :)

We also had tickets to the James Taylor concert Sunday afternoon and it wasn't until an hour before the show that we realized it was being played at the Tanglewood Shed in Lenox, MA. Whoops! The Berkshires are nowhere near Boston (in fact, Lenox is on the Western border of MA!) so we hightailed it out of the city and made it just as James was taking center stage. And, can I just say, there are few things better than spending an afternoon lying on a blanket in the Berkshires, listening to a great musician perform live. It was bliss.

But the drive home wasn't really.

Garden Update

Remember the first time I débuted the garden?

Well, now it looks like this.

The tomatoes have grown to unprecedented size and I no longer have access to my beloved herbs or the vegetables growing behind them.  Sorry peppers, cucumbers, peas and carrots... only Kurt's long arms can reach over the fence to pick your delicious treats.

Eight measly plants? Heriloom, Beefsteak, Roma, and Grape? Truly, this is out of control.

Kurt picked 30 Romas in three days.

It's a good thing we enjoy tomatoes because we're going to be eating them for a long, long time.

The Wingback

We’ve been looking for a chair. A nice chair to round out the living room but not cost us an arm and a leg. Last weekend, while perusing the outlets, we found that chair!! It retails for $1,300 but was on sale for $199! The catch? It’s not upholstered. In fact, this particular chair is designed for a slip cover. We’re not interested in “slip-covering” the chair so we’re hoping we can reupholster it.

I called Vanessa because she’s reupholstered furniture and she suggested a fabric store down on Fabric Row (Behind Closed Doors, also recommended by Stacia) so I emailed the store owner a photo of the chair (and ottoman) for a quote. After waiting a few days (without a response) we decided to just visit the shop and see what kind of fabric they could offer.

Because we haven’t chosen a fabric yet; Caroline, the owner, could only give us a labor quote. Her estimated price for the chair and ottoman? $850. $850, just for labor!!! And the fabric I liked for the ottoman was $220/yard. Wow. Oh wow.

Here’s what I’ve learned so far.
A. I have expensive taste but a small wallet.
B. Sometimes “do-it-yourself” doesn’t sound as bad as you think.
C. Shop around shop around shop around.

A few of the fabrics I like from the designer, Schumacher .


We’re interested in a more colorful chair because the room is very neutral.

(room, pre chair, ottoman, coffee table... end table... blah blah blah...)

More to come on our "project in process"

Fairs & fly balls

If there's a weekend in Philadelphia that is not dripping in humidity it is important to be outside as much as possible.

I have been craving Mexican ever since I got home from Boise, and whatta-ya-know... right there in Philadelphia Magazine is a little plug for:

Their guacamole, shrimp & mahi-mahi tacos, and delightful patio dining made the drive to South Philly worth it, even if we were behind this the entire way.

Because of Kurt's mad skills manuvering through the throngs of scalpers, we scored excellent tickets to the Phillies game. It was the end to a perfect Friday night.

Saturday was the fair. I have missed the fair. What can be more American than rides (providing instant gratification), enough greasy carni food to send any respectable person into cardiac arrest, and people watching. Oh the people watching... it's at its finest during the fair.

This happened to be the Reading, PA fair. It's about an hour north of Philly and it kinda kicks Utah fair's butts. For a mere $10 you get unlimited rides, access to the farm animals, A FREAKIN' LION & TIGER SHOW and a demolition derby to boot. And boy did we get our money's worth.

Festivities were shared with the Lakes, Ericksons and the Johnsons.

This was hilarious.

Piggy Villa. A bonafide "somebody's once lived here" trailer that was filled with pot belly pigs, each sectioned off with their own doll bed for resting on. As you can tell from Kurt & Sadie's faces, Oh my good gosh.

The farm animals were all conveniently facing away from the spectators. As Sara is demonstrating... if just one of these animals would have farted or shot diarrhea.....

The demolition derby was, at best, comical. See how they're required to stay within the large, black tires? What??? People of Reading, come to the Cache County Demolition Derby and we'll show you how us real red necks do it.

Did I mention that between the two of us we ate: 1 Pulled Pork Sandwich, 1 Gyro, 1 Fair Burger, Sweet Potato Fries, 4 Mozzarella Cheese Sticks, 2 Water Ices, 4 Fried Oreos (YUM!!) a Coke and a Lemonade.

I've learned that one must eat like a glutton while enjoying the fair. It's all part of the experience.