Happy Pancake Tuesday!

Today I was contemplating how to celebrate Shrove Tuesday - or Fat Tuesday or Mardi Gras - all names for Ash Wednesday Eve.

As kids we took full advantage of getting in one last shot at whatever you pledged to give up for Lent. It was the time for one last chance to pinch your sister or roll your eyes at your brother or to savor a coveted chocolate bar. Mom would make a special meal that included dessert and we would whoop it up, Boone County farm kid style.

I still take Lent very seriously, not only giving something up (usually booze) but trying to do something extra (typically pledging to write notes to folks to let them know how much I appreciate them).

This evening, I considered my stand-by walking to the Red Key for a Jameson whiskey or driving to a fast food joint for French fries and a diet soda. I'm giving up the drink this year - both booze* and diet soda.

I remembered reading that the Irish celebrate by eating pancakes. According to lore, the tradition started because you needed to use up your eggs and sugar - things that were not allowed to be consumed during Lent. I really enjoyed this explanation. 

As luck would have it, I had all of the ingredients at home. In the spirit of using things up, I added lime zest to the batter and made lime syrup.

I poured my diet Pepsi in an Apollo glass in honor of Katherine Johnson, who died yesterday. I used my Lord's Prayer glass for my carefully-measured ounce of Irish whiskey.

I think it was a pretty decent way to celebrate Shrove Tuesday. Although I'd totally pinch my one of my sisters if I happened to see one of them in the next hour and a half. 

Wonder how many pancakes are being consumed in Ireland today? Here is the surprisingly precise number: 
https://www.irishtimes.com/news/offbeat/pancake-tuesday-irish-people-love-to-go-on-the-batter-1.2989835

*I'm reserving the right for a Saint Patrick's Day dispensation.

best job ever!

I'm sharing 20 memories in honor of living in my house for 20 years. Here is #9....

This ranks as the Number One Great Thing that has happened since I've lived in my house.

I became an aunt. 

Best gig ever. 

Before I held my sweet niece for the first time 16.5 years ago I seriously didn't know that I could love anyone that much. 

That same wave of love crashed over me when my nephew was born two and a half years later. 

The above photo was taken when the Cubs won the National League pennant in Chicago last month. How grown up they are! 

I worry that I don't spend enough time with them. No excuses - between my jobs and other obligations and their sports schedules and school and social lives and the fact that they don't need babysitting any more we need to work on time together. 

Which I'm pledging to do now. 

I could spend all night posting photographs of these smart, kind, amazing people....I'm also aware that they might not want a ton of pictures of their young selves for all of the world to see. 

I made myself hone it down to a few of my favorites....

Molly's First Communion - I'm lucky enough to be her godmother. 

Quick-draw John showing how it's done at the O-K Pez Corral. 

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scratch and sniff: grandma's kitchen

[Click on the title to read the full post]

I am excited to be participating in the Think Kit project again this year. Today's prompt: Scratch and Sniff! Scents have the power to take us all kinds of places. What smell takes you somewhere else? Where'd you go?

I've been waiting all day to write this post. The second I read the prompt, I knew I wanted to tell you about Grandma's kitchen. 

I loved spending the night at Grandma Leona's and walking into the kitchen to the wonderful aroma of coffee and bacon and muskmelon and unconditional love. 

I'm the oldest of four children (born within six years) so having anyone's undivided attention was pretty darn special. To have my beloved grandmother all to myself was the best thing ever! Grandma and Grandpa lived on the farm house that Grandpa had grown up in. The kitchen was huge - big enough for a giant table that seated at least a dozen, Grandpa's rocking chair (that is now in my living room) and all of the necessary kitchen-y stuff and appliances. 

Uncle Phillip and Uncle Con would arrive their polka dot caps to join Grandpa for farming work of the day. They'd grab a cup of coffee and commence to some gentle niece teasing. The local AM radio station was always playing in the background - all talk; weather, obituaries, commodities reports, and more weather. 

Leona Gremelspacher was known as a saint all throughout the county. I remember pushing even her grandmotherly patience one day.  I was seven years old and followed Grandma around the kitchen chattering about what must have been fascinating second-grade business.  She finally asked me if I ever took a breath - and admitted that she needed a little quiet time. 

I spent hours this evening looking for photos of us in the kitchen or recipes written in her hand. I found lots of her recipes that I'd written at the huge table in my loopy junior-high handwriting, misspellings and all.  I remember feeling so grown up, copying down the details from her recipe cards. 

Click here for the four-generation history of the Cranberry Salad recipe. 

I was 23 when Grandma died and I am so fortunate to have known her that long. It is rare that I catch a whiff of that particular combination of percolating coffee, frying bacon, and sliced cantaloupe, but when I do, I'm transported to that place of unconditional love - like walking into a warm hug. 

ireland here we come!

So. I'm going to Ireland later this month. Mom is traveling with me for the first week, and then I'll be joined by my sisters, their husbands, and Dad. 

We invaded AAA today to book the tickets. If the chaos and noise that was part of the airline ticket purchasing are any indication, this will be a raucous trip! 

 Cheers! 

think kit: day two - take a poll

[click on the title for the full post]

Today's Think Kit blogging prompt: Take a poll and share the results. Is there something you've been curious about? A decision you're struggling with? Ask the crowd, and report back on what the results might mean.

I went off topic today - my Aunt Lucille's funeral was this morning. She was a terrific big sister to my Dad, raised eight of my favorite people, took me to my first college basketball game, and was a heck of a Euchre player. And she was a fun and willing road trip companion for Dad and I got to be part of that. 

I'd spend the last few days feeling sad. I was sad for my cousins who had lost their mother. I was sad for Dad who lost the last of his eight siblings. I was just plain old sad.

I'd read the prompt before I left for the funeral, but taking a poll under the circumstances seemed a little weird. All I could think of was deathy stuff....cremated or buried? Open casket or closed? Flowers or donations to a charity? You can see where my mind was.

After the funeral home and Mass and cemetery and delicious chicken dinner prepared by the "church ladies," a group of us cousins gathered at their childhood home. I realized that we were taking our own polls amongst ourselves.  What was your favorite Aunt Lu memory? What crazy thing did you remember from family gatherings? Who was the best Euchre player? 

After laughter and tears and beers and cards I had the answer to the unasked poll: Family. Family is the most important thing.
 

weddings and raindrops

Celebrating with the father of the bride - Cousin Jeff

Dad and I headed to Cass County (where he grew up) to attend the wedding of his great-niece Courtney. The ceremony and reception were held in the middle of a beautiful field on Cousin Jeff's property. 

The weather did not cooperate. At all. Buckets of rain fell hard and quick. 

That didn't stop the celebrating- and the Spitznogle's know how to party, no matter what the weather.

The guests were all instructed to wear boots, even before they knew the forecast. I was glad there was straw readily available to sprinkle on the puddles.

I cleverly also brought my rain boots with me. I not so cleverly left them in the bed of the truck. They turned into a giant rain gauge before I could retrieve them.

may shower [of a different sort]

Vintage wrapping paper

                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

My sweet cousin, Jessica is having a baby this summer. Which seems impossible, really, since  I was 18 when she was born. She and her dear husband live in Chicago and I don't see her nearly enough. 

The party was lovely - all of women first-cousins on Mom's side were there. I'm the oldest cousin and I'll admit to getting teary looking down the table and realizing what strong amazing women they've become - mothers, teachers, medical professionals, artists, business leaders - not a bad apple in the bunch! It was also fun to celebrate with Mom and my dear aunts. 

Mom gave Jess a beautiful statue and some Holy Water. My sisters and sister-in-law pitched in for a shared gift. We were semi-practical with the main gifts; monitoring system and music player, but I couldn't resist the Hello Kitty glitter lamp that was on her list. Can't introduce this little girl to sparkly things too soon. 

I bought a box of miscellaneous things at an auction of a distant cousin's estate sale a decade or so ago. There was a bounty of what is now vintage wrapping paper. I knew that Jessica would appreciate it so I wrapped the presents in the delicate paper.

I love having nothing on my schedule but church and the shower today. It's what I imagine Sundays are like for everyone else.

hayride

A good time was had by all. The hayride/costume contest was a great mix of Dad's Second Helpings volunteer friends, family, neighbors, and Sweetie's family.

The weather was just right for bundling up, a bonfire, and roasting weenies.

I swear there is no better sound than hearing kiddos giggle as they are bouncing around in the back of a wagon.

click your heels

Phoenix Airport, Southwest terminal 

I guess there is no place like home, but sometimes you want to slow the process down a little bit - and not by having your flight delayed by two hours. Luckily I got a text alert before Annie dropped me off so we were able to goof around a bit more. We peeked in on the yoga class that Tim teaches at a local park and photographed some fun murals and signs downtown.

This sign is for a pest control company. I need to download the photos from my camera, these are the cell phone versions.

Rooster on the side of a bar.

While I loved the bonus time with Annie, it was a long damn day. I went straight from the Indianapolis airport to my Red Key waitressing/cooking shift. Luckily it was busy enough to keep me from falling asleep.

foreign state fairs and snickerdoodles

Me as Martha Midway, the Arizona State Fair mascot 

I couldn't believe my luck. The Arizona State Fair was happening in Phoenix while I was in town!

My conference ended after lunch so Annie and I spent the afternoon running errands, baking cookies, and taking a necessary nap.

I don't want to say that I was disappointed, because I have a special place in my heart for State Fairs and the states that still have them. But there's no place like home, really.

The open class culinary depart consisted of three lonely cases tucked in the corner of the commercial building. The other open class division had more entries. Like Indiana quilts were popular. There were other interesting entries that you don't see in Indiana- gemstones and Native American crafts.

The 4-H projects had a little bigger presence, although this is THE culinary display. I comforted myself with the fact that Arizona only has 15 counties vs. Indiana's 92, although I'm not sure if the State Fair 4-H projects funnels through the counties like Indiana's does.

There were several cool exhibits. One to fallen Arizona soldiers that was sad and lovely and a whole space dedicated to an exhibit of giant electronic bugs with the requisite photo opportunity.

I'm not a corn dog eater, but the addition of bacon does make it more appealing. The usual Fair foods were represented with some ethic twists.

Indian Fry Bread tastes suspiciously like an Elephant Ear. The Indiana State Fair is 'dry.' It was odd to walk by tents selling Bud Light.

And there was a rocking face painter somewhere on the grounds.

I'm glad that we went and I loved spending time with Ann and Tim. And it's always nice to return home feeling smug about something about your home state, especially when you're leaving sunny Arizona and fly into cold and dreary Indiana.

poptarts for grownups

Ann and Tim and I went to dinner tonight and explored one of the downtown Phoenix's newest restaurants/pubs, Angels Trumpet Ale House. I had a great salad to balance out the homemade potato chip appetizer and this tastes better than it looks dessert.

The homemade poptart featured a pumpkin/ginger filling and warm vanilla icing. May I suggest pairing it with the Lefthand Milk Stout beer?

We had a grand time on the outdoor patio looking a dogs, chatting about our lives, the neighborhood, and other exciting topics. On the way out we were lucky enough to meet the owners. I wish I lived close enough to check out TV Dinner Tuesdays.

pork belly and belly laughs

I've been quite the traveler this month. Only five days back from Austin and I'm gone again. I flew to Phoenix yesterday after work. I will be attending a conference and I'm lucky enough to get to stay with my dear sister, Ann and her darling husband, Tim.
I spent most of today napping, reading, and of course catching a few episodes of Law and Order. A dream day, really.

Annie and I ventured to Old Town Scottsdale for happy hour at the delicious Citizen's Public House. The food was great and a little fancy. We sampled three dishes - the Pork Belly Pastrami (served on rye spaezle with a Brussels sprout sauerkraut - Bernie's Mac 'n Cheese (Gorgonzola, Emmental, Cavatappi, and chilled tomato relish) - the Original Chopped Salad (corn, couscous, smoked salmon, asiago, pepitas, tomatoes, arugula, and currants).

Once I got over my "lipstick on a pig" thoughts of dressing up pork belly, mac 'n cheese, and salad I really enjoyed the food. My Sidecar cocktail was delicious too.

I have to say that my very favorite part was not only being with Ann, but that her friend who works at CPH joined us. I just loved seeing Ann laugh and have fun with adult friends. She and I are enough apart in age that she was in junior-high school when I went to college and she's lived in Phoenix so long that the paths of our friends don't often meet.

A lovely evening of pork belly and belly laughs.

chores

Remember when you were a kid and you thought that your dad was awful for rousting you from bed at 8:00 on Saturday mornings to scoop out the cow barn (you can guess what we were scooping) or sweep out the barn or pick up walnuts or pull weeds or whatever torturous project he could think of?

I think I missed a lesson in all of that.
I should have had kids so I could get that stuff done at my house.

I'm not a great housekeeper. I'm an all-or-nothing sort of girl. The grass practically needs to be baled after I finally cut it. There are either piles of paper and random shoes in the living room or it is spotless. 

I'm now seeing the wisdom on dedicating a day to chores. Saturday seems to be my default day to get things done. Grocery shop, fuel in the car, catch up on laundry, and putter around the house.

Dad had a point after all - it's good to start the week with things in order.

indiana state fair 2012 - day three

Second Helpings had a table at the Fair as part of Elanco’s Hunger Relief Day. 

My first goal for the day was to get the display materials to the table by 9:30. Typically an easy task but the scary early-morning storms that passed through the neighborhood had knocked down trees and my power was out. I had a hard time just making it to the Fairgrounds.

Once that was done I decided on an Elephant Ear for breakfast – after all I had no power at home….

I swung by Pioneer Village to check on everyone. Most of the folks that take part in the activities sleep on the Fairgrounds, above one of the barns, I think. I’ve never heard exactly where they bunk – I have a feeling that they might thinking I’m stalking them anyway. I don’t want to freak them out by asking where they sleep. Anyway, they were all fine, and except for some downed branches the Fairgrounds were unscathed.

I got there just in time to see a demonstration on shaving benches – sort of a combination of vice and workbench. Dick Reel did a great job of explaining how they are used and how to make them, with a few groaner jokes thrown in - something about not using it properly and now having a half brother (or two). 

I went home for a few hours to write and submit an article. Difficult without electricity – I should have stayed in Pioneer Village – more amenities then home!

Dad and I met at the Fairgrounds around suppertime. We took our traditional look at the woodworking in the 4-H Building. Dad likes to look at the types of wood, the finishes, and design. I like to count how many kids made gun cabinets and gun racks. We also thoroughly examine the cakes and home furnishing projects. Next stop was the Home and Family Arts Building to look at the project there. I especially enjoyed showing Dad the twig plant stand that came from his side of the family.

It was time for my volunteer shift at the Second Helpings table. Dad gathered a wonderful feast or us of pork chop sandwiches and spiral cut potato chips.

Another fabulous day at the Fair. Going home to no power, not so great. 

icepolocypse 2011 day 6 - the super bowl edition

These sensible boots are on some stylish woman at a swanky hotel opening. I couldn't stand the snow boots one more day, so I broke out my brown 1970s Frye boots.

The JW Marriott is Indianapolis' newest upscale hotel. It has changed Indianapolis' skyline — it is now the seventh tallest building in Indianapolis.

It has been fun to watch the construction from our seats at Victory Field during the baseballs games the last two seasons.

I'm not someone who likes building for the sake of building, but the new hotel fits into the skyline. The building has a gentle curve that mirrors the center of the town, Monument Circle. 

I was invited by the opening by Risa, who was on the Bahamas trip last Super Bowl Sunday. It was almost like being in the Bahamas. With an ice storm and winter coats at a potato fork, which I still need to navigate walking up and down my driveway. The valet parking guys were kind enough to not point it out, although they had to wonder what the heck it was doing in the front seat.

You can see a photo of me and some swanky folks at the party by clicking here — we made the  Talk of our Town section of the Indianapolis Star. Society folks at our finest!

I loved seeing everyone and drinking a fancy $10 pomegranate Cosmopolitan and pretending I was one of the swells.

I feel like the article calls for a Paul Harvey, 'rest of the story' explanation.

First of all, I worked at the Red Key last night and it was 4:30 in the morning before I was showered and in bed. Up at 9:00 for a meeting at church, then 10:30 Mass, followed by working at Marigold all day. Not to mention that the ice made everything from walking to driving difficult.

At half time of the game I started to head to the washroom but decided to go to the lobby to call Dad instead. I knew that he would enjoy hearing about the new hotel, all of the televisions, who I was hanging out with and the fancy drink. 

Dad sounded a little odd and swore that he had not dipped into his homemade wine. I asked if he wanted me to drive out, and he did. Which he never does. 

I thanked my hostess and joined my friends in the valet queue. I was concerned enough that I didn't take time to go to the restroom. 

The drive to the farm from downtown took about 25 anxious minutes. 

I drove straight back to the chicken house, now repurposed to his workshop. Dad was fine and working on restoring an old cider press that he remembers using as a child. 

I was relieved that he was okay and slid back out the door to make the trek to the house and bathroom. 

I crashed through layers of ice and snow in my beautiful boots on the way to the house, falling twice. Trust me, falling in the freezing cold and struggling to stand up while having to pee is torture. Why did I leave the potato fork in the car? 

I finally made it to the house. The laundry room door was iced shut — three inched of ice kept the door from moving. I skated cross-legged and fell up the step to the kitchen door. Same deal, iced shut. 

Back to the work shop, more falling, more crashing through the ice-crusted snow, to burst into through the door. 

N: [hopping from foot to foot] Dad! How do you get into the house? 

D: [looking at me like I was nuts] What do you mean? 

N: [exasperated] How are you getting into the house?

D: I use the ski pole.

N: [shouting] What? 

D: The ski pole I found in the ditch. 

N: [with tears of frustration] How. Are. You. Opening. The. Door. To. Get. In. The. House? 

D: I wonder how a ski pole got in the ditch. It's amazing what I find out there. 

N: [screaming] Dad! I NEED to get in the house. 

D: The doors are frozen. 

N: Yes! Have you been living in the workshop this week? 

D: [looking at me like I'd said the most ridiculous thing ever] I go through the garage. 

N: [so relieved I almost wet my pants] How do you get in? 

D: Through the garage. 

N: How. Do. You. Open. The. Garage. Door? 

D: I push the button. 

N: What button. 

D: I think it says 'enter.' 

I crashed back out the door, this time following the path of the driveway, and using by best ice-skating techniques made it to the garage door. I flipped open the key pad (things are getting modern at the farm) and jabbed 'enter' with my mittened finger as hard as I could. 

Nothing. 

Absolutely nothing. 

Arrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhh. 

Remember that bad word that Ralphie said in A Christmas Story, when he was helping his dad change the tire? 

That was my mantra all the way back to the work shop. 

N: Dad! I couldn't get the garage door open!

D: Did I tell you there was a code? 

N. Nooooooo....what is it? 

D: I haven't told you the code before? 

N: I don't know....can I have it now? 

D: It's ****. Do you want the ski pole?

N: I'll be back. 

This time I took a different route. To the back of the cow barn. 

All of the practice of going to the bathroom outdoors in my farm-girl childhood paid off. The added layers of clothes and coat and sub-zero weather added to the fun. I did it. And didn't get any on my boots. 

And that is the rest of the story: from the society page to peeing behind a barn.

Ain't life glamorous? 

Dad and the damn ski pole.

fancy brunch

Brother J.R. treated us to brunch at their club to celebrate Mom's birthday. I didn't know that I liked waffles so much. And sausage and birthday cake. Off the charts Weight Watchers points, I'm sure. 

It was delightful to have a chance sit with family members and laugh and listen to my sweet niece tell silly jokes -- she's a girl after my own heart.

Mom's birthday was much fancier last year -- you can read the re-cap here.

Nap time!

top ten day of the year

Before the sled ride actually started. 

Our dad has a big Martin Luther King, Jr. Day Fish Fry at the farm. You can read about the party in 2008 here and 2009's party here. We all know about my lack of blogging in 2010, so there is no post, but it was fun, trust me. 

One of the things I like is the predictability of the day.  Ann and I meet at the farm and roll out dough balls in the kitchen while Dad cuts fish. We all know what to do and where everything goes. We laugh at the same things and tell old stories. And Ann and I invariably have forgotten a Christmas gift that we've purchased throughout the year, so there is some unwrapping.

It was cold as could be this year - which I don't mind. My little food safety heart loves nature's freezer. And you just have to drink the beer quicker so it doesn't get too cold and explode. Common sense, really.

This year there was just the right amount of snow for a sleigh ride. We pulled Dad's refurbished 1840s sleigh the old fashioned way. With a John Deere B tractor.

For one trip I waved for my brother to stop so I could jump on to the sled behind the sleigh.

I learned a few things on the sled ride:
J.R. won't stop the tractor to let me on, but he will pull over for a dropped iPhone.  

Brothers never outgrow the urge to get their sister to 'eat snow.' He was doing his best to dump me, much to the kids on the sleigh's delight.

I'm a heck of a lot tougher than I was in my younger days. In fact I'm not sure that little girl Nora would have been brave enough to even jump on the sled.

After

The most important lesson? Sledding in a dress is not the best idea.

This year was another great mix of family, friends, priests, neighbors and fried food. I think I ate my weight in Tater Tots.

My guess is that there were over 100 people that popped in over the course of the day. I know that I was in a hot Euchre game at midnight. And I was by far the youngest one at the table.  

house concert - chad mills

View from the best seat in the house - Chad Mills concert

Have you ever been to a house concert? It's just that - a concert in someone's house. I love them - everyone is there to listen - no bar chatter or blenders whirling drinks or freakishly tall people standing in front of the stage. And the musicians have time to tell stories and talk about their songs. I took Mom to see one of my favorite musicians, Chad Mills, play the Redbud House Concert Series tonight.

I'm a big fan of Chad's - not only do I think that he's a great songwriter and I've enjoyed seeing him grow and stretch his wings in the last five years, but Chad is an outstanding member of our music community. He plays early morning farmer's markets*, charity events and is generous with his time. But most importantly, he's committed to his beautiful wife and cute-as-a-button daughters. He seems to manage the balance of home, work and family.

Click here to hear "Meant To Be." 

I've heard musicians say that they feel naked playing a house concert. There is no microphone or equipment or smoky haze to hide behind. As an audience member, I felt stripped down also - no notepad or camera or speaker to shield me from the music. And that is what makes house concerts so great, you really have a chance to connect with the words and music.

I encourage you to attend or host a concert. It's as easy as pie (ummm, pie). I wrote a cover article for NUVO about house concerts - you can read it here. If you're interested in hosting a house concert read my how-to guide here. 

I'm mad at myself that I didn't think to shoot a video of one of Chad's other songs, but I didn't think of it until his final song of the night. .I'll leave you with the video I took of his last song, the title track  and bar band anthem from his latest CD, Make the Door. You'll have to excuse my late start and my giggling at hearing his mom shout, "DRINK LIKE FISH!"

See you tomorrow!

 * I asked Chad to fill in at the Broad Ripple Farmer's Market for last minute cancellation. Not only was the weather cold and rainy, but the Broad Ripple High School marching band was practicing just a few yards away. 

nyc

My feet: ice skating at Rockefeller Center, December 9, 2010

I got to spend a whole day in New York City last month!

Beth took this great photograph

The short story is that we have a family friend who is a pilot and had use of his company plane for the day. Dad gathered a group that included a priest, his sister and niece and my sister, Beth and my friend, Novella.

Beth got to ride in the co-pilots seat on the way there. 

Here is the route...it only took us a little over two hours to get there.

Flying on a private plane rocks - no security check or scanning. I could have taken gallons of liquids if I liked...I didn't, there is not a potty aboard. We did have homemade cookies and other goodies.

 Russ helping Dad exit the plane.

We landed at Teterboro Airport in New Jersey and took a shuttle van to Rockefeller Center. Beth, Novella and I opted to walk and window shop (and shop shop) while the others had lunch. 

Saint Patrick's Cathedral

Like good little children of God, we wound up at Mass at Saint Patrick's Cathedral. As Beth pointed out, they were saying Mass on a continuous loop - one ended and another started.  Like a not-so good child of God I took advantage of the electrical outlet by the font of Holy Water to charge my iPhone.

We browsed museum shops and actually visited one. The American Folk Art Museum was lovely. We saw quilts and an exhibition of work by Eugene Von Bruenchenhein. Eugene was a quirky guy - Outsider Artist is probably the proper art term. The collection highlighted his poetry, pinup style photographs of his wife, ceramics and miniatures build of guided turkey bones. I'm sorry that I didn't take more photographs but I was too busy clutching the walls trying to not freak-out by the layout of the museum - my fear of heights was kicking in big time. 

The museum had a wonderful cafe - it was fun to have a fancy lunch - chicken salad and diet Pepsi in a wine glass in the beautiful space without worrying about rushing back to work or anything. The exhibitions were great, but it was worth the price of admission for a warm restroom and the coat check.

We bundled back out into the cold and headed back to Rockefeller Center. Ice skating was at the tops of my list for the day.

Nora and Novella on the ice

I'm proud to report that we skated for half an hour and did not fall once. Click on the video at the top of his post for some exciting skating action.

We followed the skating with cocktails in a swanky bar and dinner at a lovely Italian bistro and window shopping.

Through the wonders of facebook, I knew that there was a fundraiser for soup kitchen/homeless services at NYC John's church on the Lower East Side that evening. I sent him a text that morning saying that we were in town and planning on attending the event. I asked if I could help with any errands and was delighted that he had a project for us.

We met him in the lobby of the NBC Studios, where he had just finished his work with Jimmy Fallon. That was the day Paul McCartney was on the show. I got to shake the hand of the hand that shook Sir Paul's hand. Click here for a clip of Paul from that day.

John loaded us down with raffle prizes for the fundraiser and shepherded us on to the subway.  He kindly bought our tickets and led the way through the tunnels.

John getting us through the turnstile.

Dad reaction to entering the subway for the first time: This is where it all ends! I'm sure a few commuters thought the same about us when we burst into the subway car with hats with flaps and boots and armloads of raffle prizes.

The fundraiser was in a bar not far from the church. Dad was making friends and I was meeting folks - the minister of the church is from Indiana as was another guy that I met. I was grabbing a card from my bag in the coat check when I noticed that Dad had his coat on and was heading out the door. I grabbed him and asked where he was headed...."taking a taxi to Times Square."

Whoa! Hold up papa!

I plucked the drinks from Beth and Novella's hands, bid a quick good-bye to John and we piled out the door. 

It was fun to kick around Times Square pop in to shops and walk under the bright lights.

We had a slight panic when we got separated for a bit back at the meeting place, but Dad was finally able to convince someone to use their cell phone to call us. 

Now who wouldn't let that charming man use their phone?

Since we weren't on a commercial flight, it didn't matter what time we left - it was after midnight by the time we were "wheels up."

I sat in the co-pilots seat on the way home. I tried my darnedest to stay awake, but I just couldn't do it. In fact I got a good elbow to the ribs at one point. My guess is that I was either snoring in to the pilots headphones or ready to fall into the steering mechanism.

All and all it was an amazing day. If I've need a boost in the last few weeks, I just play the video of my feet ice skating - guaranteed to make me giggle!