Thinking about goin’ down da ocean, hon? Cost of gas got you down? Dreading the crawl across the Bay Bridge? The perfect alternative is right here in Baltimore!
I happened across a delightful oasis on York Road, near the Towson/City line – it’s a Lee’s Ice Cream & Fractured Prune franchise! Here we have OC’s hot hand dipped donuts paired with the creamiest ice cream to be found. No need to spend hours in the car, just head on down York Road for your OC experience this weekend.
“But that’s just donuts and dessert,” you may say. Where is the relaxing sunrise? Where are the sounds of the crashing waves? Where are the seagulls for crying out loud!
I’m telling you, they are on York Road, near the Towson /City line. Take a seat on Lee’s outdoor patio and you’ll be instantly transformed. The morning sun, rising over the trees of Anneslie, warms your face. A cool breeze blows along the walkway from Cedarcroft. The traffic of York Road is far enough removed, yet sits just close enough, providing a muffled rush, like the crashing of waves. Minivans arrive in steady stream – emitting families with young children in shorts and flip flops. They enjoy a leisurely donut to start their day. Coffee, donut and sudoku in hand, I sat. Seagulls called from over head and a little brown finch visited the sidewalk for crumbs. It was like I was hanging on the boardwalk in OC.
“But there’s no Candy Kitchen, no T-shirt shops, no Secrets Night Club,” you may say. Have you been downtown lately? We have a boardwalk - a wonderful concrete promenade stretching from the Inner Harbor all the way to Fells Point.
Follow 83 South to the end. Then just park and walk. No tolls, no traffic, no cramped 3 hour drive in the car. You can stroll along the water for miles, on paths filled with shops, restaurants and entertainment. You’ll see motor boats, sail boats and paddle boats. They’ll just be in the Harbor rather than the Atlantic. If the Orioles are playing, you may even see a plane on the horizon trailing an advertising banner. Feel like OC yet?
“But there’s no beach, no place to fly a kite or kick back on a blanket,” you may say. Try Ft. McHenry or the Canton Waterfront Park. These offer a waterside view with plenty of room for lounging and kite flying. OK – there’s no sand to get in your bathing suit. You’ve got me there, but is that really a problem?
Memorial Day weekend kicked off OC season in Maryland. Many flooded Route 50 braving traffic and crowds, but I stayed in Baltimore. Each morning, I strolled down York Road for an OC Sands donut. I puttered through my days - strolling along the water, shopping, reading a trashy novel. I used the money I saved on gas and tolls for crabs and beer. And at the end of each day, I wandered down York Road for a double scoop of Lee’s homemade Mint Chocolate ice cream.
Who needs the crowds, we’ve got a taste of OC right here in Bawlmer, hon!
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Habits, Routines or Traditions
I grew up in a house full of traditions. I'm not really sure how it happened. I don't think my parents planned family traditions. Perhaps my parents were simply creatures of habit. Perhaps routine was a valued commodity when raising five children. I'm not really sure how our family traditions came to be, but I sure am glad.
Christmas stockings were faithfully hung on the railing of the stairs off the living room(even after we moved to a house with a fireplace). We have a special birthday song, "Make a Wish." We have sung this song at every family birthday since 1965.
When others were dying Easter eggs, we were making egg shell flowers instead. There's a silly looking felt turkey that gets slipped over a pineapple and placed in the center of the table each Thanksgiving. Does anyone even use felt anymore? We do.
Every Sunday morning of my youth, we dutifully trotted off to church - even when we were on vacation. Vacation was a tradition as well. Every summer, the whole brood of us went camping, with an old army-green canvas tent and a Coleman stove.
Believe it or not, we have a secret family dip recipe. This dip, which we lovingly call "the secret dip", appears at every family gathering. The rule? You must marry into the family to get the recipe.
I could go on and on.
My family probably has a few more traditions than most, but trust me, every family has traditions. You may not have a secret dip recipe or know how to make egg shell flowers, but trust me, you have traditions. Does Grandma make creamed onions for Thanksgiving every year? Are you the one who always bakes the holiday pies? Does the world standstill when the NY Giants are playing? If you look hard enough, you'll find them. Every family has those quirky little things that make them unique.
Celebrate your traditions. Start some of your own. As children grow up, families move apart, or grandparents pass on, you can put a felt turkey on a pineapple and feel like you are home again. You can get on the phone and sing the birthday song to your son on the west coast and share a special bond.
Sometimes silly, sometimes sweet. Traditions are a wonderful thing.
Christmas stockings were faithfully hung on the railing of the stairs off the living room(even after we moved to a house with a fireplace). We have a special birthday song, "Make a Wish." We have sung this song at every family birthday since 1965.
When others were dying Easter eggs, we were making egg shell flowers instead. There's a silly looking felt turkey that gets slipped over a pineapple and placed in the center of the table each Thanksgiving. Does anyone even use felt anymore? We do.
Every Sunday morning of my youth, we dutifully trotted off to church - even when we were on vacation. Vacation was a tradition as well. Every summer, the whole brood of us went camping, with an old army-green canvas tent and a Coleman stove.
Believe it or not, we have a secret family dip recipe. This dip, which we lovingly call "the secret dip", appears at every family gathering. The rule? You must marry into the family to get the recipe.
I could go on and on.
My family probably has a few more traditions than most, but trust me, every family has traditions. You may not have a secret dip recipe or know how to make egg shell flowers, but trust me, you have traditions. Does Grandma make creamed onions for Thanksgiving every year? Are you the one who always bakes the holiday pies? Does the world standstill when the NY Giants are playing? If you look hard enough, you'll find them. Every family has those quirky little things that make them unique.
Celebrate your traditions. Start some of your own. As children grow up, families move apart, or grandparents pass on, you can put a felt turkey on a pineapple and feel like you are home again. You can get on the phone and sing the birthday song to your son on the west coast and share a special bond.
Sometimes silly, sometimes sweet. Traditions are a wonderful thing.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Exercise? vs Exercise!
What is it about exercise? I know I should do it. I know I need to do it. I know I have time to do it. But somehow, it rarely makes it to the top of my "to do" list.
Oh, I make a "to do" list, almost every day. What a sense of accomplishment I get as I check things off throughout the day. But even if I put "Exercise!" at the top of the list, I can spend an entire day avoiding it. I have even been know to add and check off additional "to do" items during the day if the list of remaining items is getting short. (A psychologist would probably have a field day with this little avoidance technique.)
I find a lot of worthwhile endeavors in life end up on the "need to do, but never get around to" list. Organizing the work bench in the basement or washing the windows certainly would be nice but clearly are a luxury I can live without. Five books sit on the shelf waiting to be read. I wonder how many times the library will let me continue to renew them? Three years of photos, stuffed in a bag, wait in my bedroom to be sorted into albums. Every now and again, the bag falls over - probably a cry for attention. I carefully prop it back into place and go about my day.
A shoebox full of notes and momentos, meant for my youngest child's baby book, seek my loving attention. This one is particularly sad as my "baby" turned 17 last week. Forget the poor misunderstood middle child syndrome, its the youngest that typically ends up short-changed on the baby book front. Why is life is so full of worthwhile "should do's" that never get done?
I am cruising through my "to do" list today. I've already checked off "submit newsletter article" and "set up networking lunch." Now I can check off "write blog." Since it's raining, I can even check wash car and water new grass seed off the list. Stay tuned folks - I am getting dangerously close to "Exercise!"
Oh, I make a "to do" list, almost every day. What a sense of accomplishment I get as I check things off throughout the day. But even if I put "Exercise!" at the top of the list, I can spend an entire day avoiding it. I have even been know to add and check off additional "to do" items during the day if the list of remaining items is getting short. (A psychologist would probably have a field day with this little avoidance technique.)
I find a lot of worthwhile endeavors in life end up on the "need to do, but never get around to" list. Organizing the work bench in the basement or washing the windows certainly would be nice but clearly are a luxury I can live without. Five books sit on the shelf waiting to be read. I wonder how many times the library will let me continue to renew them? Three years of photos, stuffed in a bag, wait in my bedroom to be sorted into albums. Every now and again, the bag falls over - probably a cry for attention. I carefully prop it back into place and go about my day.
A shoebox full of notes and momentos, meant for my youngest child's baby book, seek my loving attention. This one is particularly sad as my "baby" turned 17 last week. Forget the poor misunderstood middle child syndrome, its the youngest that typically ends up short-changed on the baby book front. Why is life is so full of worthwhile "should do's" that never get done?
I am cruising through my "to do" list today. I've already checked off "submit newsletter article" and "set up networking lunch." Now I can check off "write blog." Since it's raining, I can even check wash car and water new grass seed off the list. Stay tuned folks - I am getting dangerously close to "Exercise!"
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
We Hear What We Want to Hear.
I'm writing a book. Did you know? I can't imagine you don't. I tell everyone - friends, family, colleagues, the cashier at the grocery store . . . . .
As I write, I meet other writers. I hear about the dozens of query letters sent to agents and publishers, followed by rejection letter after rejection letter. I hear how writers "rework" their manuscripts, again and again. I hear the most common mistake writers make is to "over write."
Some of these I choose to ignore - like the rejection rate. After all, you need to do what you love and you need to have faith in yourself. I look at it like the lottery - "you gotta play to win". (and somebody does win) But it really is amazing how we allow ourselves to only hear what we want to hear. It's a gift really, and a curse. We listen, but then we pick and choose what we think really applies to us.
I learned a valuable lesson last week. I over write! I knew it was common for new writers, but certainly that did not apply to me!
Many months ago, I posted a quote on my computer which I found in a writer's magazine. It reads, "Seventy percent of a first draft is garbage and 30 percent is gold, but you have to write 100 percent to get that 30." Imagine, my pleasure when I completed my first chapter and only ended up with 25% on the cutting room floor, instead of 70. I was so far ahead of the game - I was patting myself on the back as I trotted to the head of the class. Wrong!
An intense manuscript rewrite last week (following comments from an editor) had me sorting through a lot of garbage. I mean a lot of garbage. Because, guess what? I over write!
My revised book proposal is off in the hands of an agent now, so we'll see if I've cleaned enough garbage out of my pot of gold. If not, I'll simply buy a bigger shovel and go at it again.
As I write, I meet other writers. I hear about the dozens of query letters sent to agents and publishers, followed by rejection letter after rejection letter. I hear how writers "rework" their manuscripts, again and again. I hear the most common mistake writers make is to "over write."
Some of these I choose to ignore - like the rejection rate. After all, you need to do what you love and you need to have faith in yourself. I look at it like the lottery - "you gotta play to win". (and somebody does win) But it really is amazing how we allow ourselves to only hear what we want to hear. It's a gift really, and a curse. We listen, but then we pick and choose what we think really applies to us.
I learned a valuable lesson last week. I over write! I knew it was common for new writers, but certainly that did not apply to me!
Many months ago, I posted a quote on my computer which I found in a writer's magazine. It reads, "Seventy percent of a first draft is garbage and 30 percent is gold, but you have to write 100 percent to get that 30." Imagine, my pleasure when I completed my first chapter and only ended up with 25% on the cutting room floor, instead of 70. I was so far ahead of the game - I was patting myself on the back as I trotted to the head of the class. Wrong!
An intense manuscript rewrite last week (following comments from an editor) had me sorting through a lot of garbage. I mean a lot of garbage. Because, guess what? I over write!
My revised book proposal is off in the hands of an agent now, so we'll see if I've cleaned enough garbage out of my pot of gold. If not, I'll simply buy a bigger shovel and go at it again.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
My New Best Friend
I have a new best friend. His name is Chris. He is in my kitchen right now, hanging cabinet trim as I type. Chris is my new best friend. Why? Because he actually shows up when you need him. Isn't that the hallmark of any true friend? OK, I pay him for his work, but don't we repay all our friends in some way?!
Before Chris, my best friend was Bryan. He was here everyday for weeks working on my kitchen renovation. I likde Bryan. He was quiet and polite. His talents were many - dry wall, electric, carpentry and plumbing. He owned every tool imaginable and he brought nice guys with him on occassion to help out. He charged a fair price. He did great work. But then, he stopped showing up. And he stopped answering his cell phone.
It's been 4 weeks today since I've seen Bryan. I've given up leaving messages on his cell phone. Last I heard, he was taking a trip to California. I didn't read of any planes crashing so I can only assume he landed safely. My brother thinks he's probably in jail, but I prefer to imagine him surfing the waves on the west coast. Some of his tools are still here. I put them out back and covered them with a tarp. Perhaps some day he'll come back and get them.
I told Chris this morning I was so happy to see him. I tell him that every morning. Truth is, I'll be even happier when I don't see him anymore. That will mean the renovation work on my kitchen is done. My relationship with Chris is short term. Perhaps he will become one of those dear friends you touch base with on rare occassions but alway remember fondly. I hope so.
Before Chris, my best friend was Bryan. He was here everyday for weeks working on my kitchen renovation. I likde Bryan. He was quiet and polite. His talents were many - dry wall, electric, carpentry and plumbing. He owned every tool imaginable and he brought nice guys with him on occassion to help out. He charged a fair price. He did great work. But then, he stopped showing up. And he stopped answering his cell phone.
It's been 4 weeks today since I've seen Bryan. I've given up leaving messages on his cell phone. Last I heard, he was taking a trip to California. I didn't read of any planes crashing so I can only assume he landed safely. My brother thinks he's probably in jail, but I prefer to imagine him surfing the waves on the west coast. Some of his tools are still here. I put them out back and covered them with a tarp. Perhaps some day he'll come back and get them.
I told Chris this morning I was so happy to see him. I tell him that every morning. Truth is, I'll be even happier when I don't see him anymore. That will mean the renovation work on my kitchen is done. My relationship with Chris is short term. Perhaps he will become one of those dear friends you touch base with on rare occassions but alway remember fondly. I hope so.
Monday, May 5, 2008
A Warm Spring Day
My bloodshot eyes reveal a lack of sleep but my face does not divulge my body's aching muscles. A busy week of family, church and professional obligations leaves me spent, yet energized. Remnants of the week lie scattered about the living room. A display of engagement photos by the tv, pieces of invitations stacked on the coffee table and centerpieces-in-progress on the window sill share the joys and work of wedding preparation. A brief case fallen on the floor spills forth notes and handouts from the weekend's writers conference. A reminder my son taped on the wall simply states "to do: WRITE BOOK!!" Sneakers, sandals, a sock, the Sunday paper and a leash for the puppy liter the ground by the front door. Photos of a cowboy boot, the Texas Tech logo and a yellow rose await a meeting with a cake decorator for a special event. A doggered page of phone numbers and scribbled notes offer history on the search for sponsors for new members at church. The dining room table, cluttered with recessed lights, cabinet handles and outlet covers, is a subtle reminder of the kitchen renovation that is not quite complete.
And dust - there is a lot of dust I'm sure, but I just don't see it. Dust is the last thing on my mind. All I see is outreach to strangers, eagerly anticipated events and new business opportunities. I see family and friends, and love in the air. On this chilly spring morning, my heart is warm.
And dust - there is a lot of dust I'm sure, but I just don't see it. Dust is the last thing on my mind. All I see is outreach to strangers, eagerly anticipated events and new business opportunities. I see family and friends, and love in the air. On this chilly spring morning, my heart is warm.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
