11 miles today on the hoof according to our Google Health App. 

A three mile round-trip run for Gian Piero’s breakfast. You hear someone go on and on about the cream in Italian pastries and think to yourself, “Yeah, yeah.” And then one day, you actually taste it and repent of your lack of respect. This particular pastry is called a Lobster Tail because look at it. And beside it rests almond biscotti that, if that was all I had for the day, would be entirely sufficient. To get biscotti like that requires the right ingredients and the right recipe and the right chef with the right bloodline. None of those four things converge in our little hometown, love it as I do.

Thence to a walk around Astoria. 5-ish miles in, we entered Astoria Park which begins at its south end under the huge concrete pilings of the Triboro Bridge and faces the East River. That bridge has been renamed the Robert F. Kennedy Bridge, but I like Triboro better. Way more geographically evocative. We watched a woman, or a man in a skirt, shadow box vigorously, and we idly speculated on how much actual ground would be covered if all the office and living space in the tall towers over on Manhattan were spread out side by side. We also wondered how far the average New Yorker walks in a day because it seems like that’s all everyone does here is walk.

It’s all interesting because of the people!

The subway is not actually ‘sub’ here in Astoria. It is overhead and, though it’s loud, it gives a homey feel, like a front porch. Like, I’m outside, but I’m close to home and have a roof over my head. 

‘Home’ is the second floor of Oscar and Alona’s home on 30th Ave. As we drank our afternoon cup of restorative, we watched Oscar bathe their dog in the back courtyard. The terrier enjoyed his bath in a big tupperware bin as much as any child in the tub, maybe more. He practically bathed himself in his frolics. 

A Waze-assisted trip over bridge and dale to Flushing took us to the real Chinatown and the Golden Shopping Mall. This is a food mall, the best of which is in the basement. Steamed lamb and green squash dumplings seemed the summit of taste and texture until we turned to the booth cramped right behind the lamb dumpling booth and ordered cumin lamb pulled noodles. We watched the cook pull the noodles in front of us and pop them into the boiling water. And then we shared a plate of what he ladled up, our heads bumping in leaned-over gluttony. And we were unashamed.

Thank you, P.S. 20 for letting us park in front you, unticketed and untowed, because parking signs and laws are an enigma to us.

Finish off this perfect day with a visit to a Bohemian Beer Garden established in 1902 by Czechs. On vacation I struggle with the dilemma of whether to ponder and read and talk about deep things because I have the time and no excuse, or to relax, whatever that means.

So in conclusion, we hit Italian, Chinese, and Czech/German food today, and Greek last night. Our feet hurt and I am ashamed to say we are in by 8:30 snacking on Utz cheese balls. Each to their own, right? And we learned by listening that this place is not pronounced Astoria, but UhSTORia.
Get it right.

Today we hit the road to celebrate “30 Years Together – Part Two.”

Part One was the body-punishing first attempt at cross-country skiing back in February – a satisfying trip in terms of character and accomplishment. Pain is good, we assured each other. And the woodland trails were lovely.
30 Years – Part Two will be different in that our destination is not the working man’s Midwest, but the working man’s East – NYC and Queens! And while we will hike our feet to nubs and our joints to arthroscopic anguish on the concrete trails, it still won’t hurt like falling on cross-country skis. I know this.
So here’s the plan:
We will leave Dixieland on Sunday, September 30, after church. Andrew will preach and I’ll teach and then we’ll load the CRV with probably the most wrong-headed clothing for October in the the upper East, and we’ll drive as far as we can along the spine of Virginia. Our camp stove will supply the coffee that beggars all others including that Seattle liquid. Behind a Circle K or at a rest stop picnic table, a cup of our coffee is like a drill instructor setting the cadence. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b65RQtL4H3Q
And then, Monday, October 1, my happy birthday, we’ll make that giddy trip over the Hudson River into Manhattan right at Midtown and over the East River to Queens and check in to our Airbnb in Long Island City that has parking included!! Perks, and whatnot.
We look forward to Asian, Italian, Jewish, and Middle Eastern food in Queens.
A visit to our son-in-law’s high school, St. Francis Xavier, near Union Square.
Time with Ben and Kim Kaufmann, kin and friends.
A visit to the Cloisters up Riverside.
Another walk along the High Line because it’s really awesome.
And then!
We’ll leave the teeming city and visit the campus of the United States Military Academy at West Point, for Andrew. Once we get there, I’ll buy the T-shirt and really be enthusiastic about it, because I’ve always wanted to be a hero on the battlefield, ‘stomach of a lion’ and all that. But my heart will be feeling the call of the next stop which is for me.
Stillmeadow in Southbury, Connecticut. Home of Gladys Taber, a soulmate author and homemaker who lived, wrote, and homesteaded in the early years of the 1900s. Her books are little oases of pleasure in undistracted things.
And then!
We will continue north to Pine Plains, NY, and Fat Apple Farm. A Farm to Table Dinner in October replete with butchered meat demonstrations and yoga classes and art opportunities. Since I read Washington Irving”s “Legend of Sleepy Hollow” in American Literature I’ve dreamed of visiting the Hudson River Valley in October. Irving’s lush descriptions draw me: apple-mouthed swine on platters surrounded by every root vegetable known to New World pioneers, pies, gravies, and all the denizens of the barnyard converted to plump Sunday dinner. Add Sunday morning worship in Kingston, NY, at a reformed church plant, and what more could you ask from a 30 year anniversary trip??
We will keep you posted of highlights along the road. And we declare ourselves to be unworthy of all the blessings which our Lord showers on our heads.

~30 Years In: A Tableau~
I’ve been sewing in the dark for the last few days because the switch for the lights over the big table shorted out and died its death. We’ve discussed it a few times and so today I casually said, “I put in a call to So and So Electrical to get on their schedule.”
Understand, I had no manipulative motives here.
Him: “Oh, no. I can do this.”
Me: “Ok, but I thought when you went up into the attic you discovered that the wire has no play on it and without electrician’s tools (whatever those are) you can’t replace the fixture.”
Him: “Well, I’ve thought about it and I think I can do it.”
Me: “How?”
Him: “I don’t know yet, but I know I can.”
Me: “Okaaaay.”
Him after work last night and three trips to Marvin’s: “Ok, come stand over here one more time and holler when this wire wiggles.”
And wouldn’t you know, he did it.