Friday, June 26, 2009

Bowling with Natalie and Bethany

The first evening we were in Winfield, Jeanne and I took the girls to Dairy Freeze. Dairy Freeze has the best chicken strips ever. It is our little town jewel. It has been in business since the beginning of our memories. We sat in the game room in the back eating our chicken. Jeanne and I had chicken salad sandwiches. The little ones had the incredibly good chicken strips. The girls played air hockey. Bethany played a round of Miss Pac Man. It was a good bit of time, which led into an incredibly fun time the following day. We picked up four free passes for a game of bowling at Towne and Country Lanes in Nitro that evening.
I love bowling! I never really enjoyed it before the anti smoking laws because every time I went as a kid I would come home very ill with a headache and be nauseous from the smoke. We went at two o'clock in the afternoon. There were only two other couples bowling at the time. The air was clean, but smelled a bit like the seventies. We donned fancy bowling shoes and picked out our bowling balls. Put the bumpers in place. Set up the score board, which is now a modern flat screen with cool graphics juxtaposed with the seventies orange seats. And began to bowl.
The girls were so cute. They would help each other wait for the ball to reach the pins, which took quite a long time. The smallest ball in the place was six pounds, which is a enormous amount of weight to push down a lane for forty pound girls. Natalie said it made her arms tired to push the ball. The girls would hold each other after every single roll in anticipation of what might happen. They would cheer each other on. Jeanne and I were proud of ourselves too. We played with the bumpers up too. I bowled a strike. Jeanne was winning until the last frame. I won by three points. I won't publish the scores because we were playing with bumpers, and would still probably be embarrassed with our points in comparison to those who play without bumpers. One game was enough for our arms, but we will definitely bowl again. Now that we can breathe in the alley.


Father's Day

To celebrate Father's Day this year, we went to the Japanese Shogun Steak House in Bridgeport for a culinary and cultural experience. I thought of it as dinner and a show. Bethany thought of it as an experience to be endured. Brian enjoyed the savory meat. Two out of three happy customers is not great odds for a restaurant.
I thought the steaming onion volcano was very creative. The gushing oil fire on the grill was exciting. The chef tossed around eggs, spatulas, lemon halves. He clanked around seasoning shakers. He caught things in his hat. Brian tried to catch a shrimp in his mouth. He was pelted with some fried rice, which I am just today trying to remove the oil stain. But Bethany just did not like the whole situation. I managed to feed her some white rice like a baby. She was turned off by the smell and the flames.
We ordered the habacchi chicken. I had a salad with ginger dressing, and some miso soup that was very salty tofu and seaweed. The fried rice and noodles were great, as well as, the vegetables. We had a mountain of leftovers. We had maybe three extra meals to bring home. Lily enjoyed some chicken. The atmosphere of the place was peaceful and open. There was a forest of bamboo growing in the isle way between sides of the restaurant. Brian wants to take Poppa there when he comes for a visit in August. I will feed Bethany before we go. A good time was had by most. :)






Wednesday, June 24, 2009

View from my Porch

Maple Lake is full of the sounds of summer. Two evenings ago, Bethany and I went on a late evening ramble to the Lilly Pond located on the other side of the lake to catch frogs. Bethany had a frog catching bucket and her lunch box. In her lunch box, she had a granola bar in case we got hungry, a flashlight, and a hair band.

We walked over to the Lilly pond stopping to check on some eggs we had found earlier in the morning lodged in the hollow of a tree near the ground. The eggs are oblong and soft, so we have determined they are of the reptile variety. I wouldn't let her bring them home, because I do not want any kind of poisonous snake in my home. Brian said we could put them in a bucket on the porch. I still refused.

As we walked along the fireflies started blinking good evening to us. The heron flew past us, twice. He really has an awesome wing span. We also saw the Heron's wife. We have no idea which one is the male or female. They don't hang out together, in order for us to compare. They spend most of their time in solitary contemplation on the edge of the water waiting for a snack to swim by.

Ducks and geese on the other hand are incredibly needy socially . We counted fifteen mallard ducks in a group sleeping with their heads tucked on their backs under a tree. There were a dozen or so Canadian geese honking as they sailed along the water having one last swim before night fall. I spotted White Duck and Mallard, the interduckle couple, under a small maple tree a hundred yards or so from the sleeping Mallard clan. White Duck and Mallard had been missing for a couple of weeks. They have returned home and taken up residence in deeper waters of the lake. They are not fully accepted by the mainstream Mallard clan, hence they live on the out skirts of the group. Mallard is a really brave duck to give up his duck family for the love of White Duck. White duck is so happy now, before Mallard loved him he tried to be a goose. The geese let him swim with them, but he was really quite lonely because the geese would fly away sometimes during the day, leaving him to paddle around alone quite a bit.

White Duck has had a really tragic life until now. He was originally a part of a five white duck family who inhabited the lake. In one day three of his family were ran over by an irresponsible or evil human driver. Then there were only two ducks left. Sometime in the winter the other white duck member perished from natural causes. That is when White Duck began hanging out with the geese to cope with his loss and need to be with a clan of water fowl.

Bethany and I made it to the Lilly pond to catch some frogs. Frogs are very wary creatures nestling in on the edge of the pond, until visitors approach. At which point, they splash into the safety of murky waters swimming under the Lilly pads. Then the little creatures call out to each other singing their rubber balloon songs. There was a chorus of banjo plucks from the green frogs accompanied by rubbery rumbles of a bull frog. Bethany directed me to search on side of the pond while she investigated the other side. She bounced from point to point listening to the calls of our quarry. Bethany decided after twenty minutes or so to eat her granola bar offering me half. Then she fished out her flash light in hopes of spotting a frog in the beam of light. The beams reflected off the colloid sized particles in the solution of pond water casting an odd yellow glow in the water.

We spotted no frogs, but had a conversation about catching animals. Bethany wants there to be a no killing rule at Maple Lake. She was in a fit of weeping desperation earlier in the afternoon when she came to the realization that the fishermen on the lake weren't putting the fish they caught back in the lake. They were taking the fish home to eat. Some problems are very difficult for a mother to solve or explain. There was little comfort I could offer her tender little heart. A lesson on predator prey relationships just was not appropriate, only hugs, coos of I know baby, and a tissue could ease this little one's soul. By evening, she had developed a plan wanting a no kill sign to be made and placed for everyone to see. The air began to cool rapidly after the sun descended behind the mountain. A rush of chilled air filled the valley sending us on our way back home along the lake's edge listening to sounds of summer.