Festive Sweater Fest 2010

What do you get when you gather a group of people who have crazy aunts and grandmas with "beautiful" sweaters that they loaned/gave you to go to a Christmas party?

Festive Sweater Fest, that's what.

Yes, there are ugly sweater parties popping up all over the country during this season, and we decided to jump on the bandwagon too.  These kind of parties have given us a new way to celebrate Christmas without having to spend a lot of money.  If you can dig through your or your relatives' closets to find these gems, you could be in for a treat.  Prizes are often offered, and we weren't going to let our guests down.  Trader Joe's, a type of Whole Foods specialty food store for those of you who aren't in the know, just opened here in town about a month ago.  People are nuts over this place so we decided that a $10 gift card to Trader Joe's was in order...worth way more than most of the sweaters.  Can you guess who won?

Joanna is in a winter wonderland and Amber is the Cat Lady

Michelle was into bunnies, Lauren looked lovely in snowflakes, and Brad's too short teddy bear sweater was perfect. 

My sweater was intricately crocheted and Spike pulled off Liz Claiborne quite well if I do say so myself!

Warren pinned a stocking on and Sabrina had bears as part of her ensemble.

Tyler, Mark, and Spike laughing about how ridiculous they look...or maybe something else.
Tyler's sweater had a walrus and polar bear among others and Mark was decked out in moose and trees.

Amber with her straight-laced man Mike in a gingerbread and plaid get-up.  The glasses are totally classic!

Run for Your Life...or Warmth

That's me in the gray vest!

Thanksgiving Day I ran my first race.  Some friends from work convinced me to run with them, and being easily persuaded I agreed.  I've been running more since late summer and was ready to put all the days of training at Back Cove to the test.  This was the Portland Thanksgiving Day 4 Miler.  Granted, I'd never run non-stop for 4 miles before and I knew I wouldn't be able to do it this day, but I still thought it would be fun.

My friends and I met up at one of their apartments to stretch and warm up.  We had bananas (lots of potassium for muscles) and cranberry bread for sustenance to carry us through the race.  I had one banana and half a slice of the bread.  There is a reason I'm telling you this...keep reading.  We walked down to the start line with 2,000 of our closest friends.  And some of these people were a little too hardcore for me.  I saw quite a few running in their shorts and t-shirts, which is fine for a spring day run, but it was 31 degrees outside!  Really though, once the race began my attire was perfect.  The most important thing to me was to keep my core and ears warm.  The legs and arms were going to be moving enough that I didn't need extra layers.

About 3 times I had to stop running to regain energy that was zapped on those hills, and there were plenty of them.  Luckily, the planner of the race had the decency to make the final stretch downhill.  My friend Elizabeth and I began to pick up the pace to finish strong.  We were nearly sprinting when we crossed the finish line and I almost got sick.  I just kept thinking, "Please, please don't let me throw up in front of all these people!!"  Luckily I was able to keep my composure, but I guess the lesson was to only eat half a banana in the future!

I love that cities all across the country have a Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving morning.  It makes eating all that food easier to justify.  And our Thanksgiving had lobster.  Yeah, I'll go ahead and rub it in.  It was sooooooo good.  How else are you supposed to celebrate the holiday in Maine?

All Set?

There are a few things that always tend to stick out in my mind when I think about sayings people have in the Northeast.  "All set" is definitely at the top of the list as it's the catchall for anyone in the service industry whether it's the waitress at dinner or the cashier at the department store.  The Texas equivalent to this would be "I'm good," which we'll get to shortly.

The phrase seemed to seep its way into my brain after Spike and I had been out to dinner several times and the waiters and waitresses would ask if we were ready to order.  But the thing is they didn't say, "Are you all set to order?"  It was just, "All set?" and we used our context clues to determine that we were expected to give them our order.  When the food would come it was, "All set?" again.  This time it would mean, "Do you have everything you need?"  And so it goes when the plates were ready to be taken away and when the check was to be paid.  It was always "All set?"  On the flip side, if the the waiter actually asks if I am still working on my plate, I could say, "I'm all set" meaning "You can take it."  I could also tell them I'm all set if they inquired about anything else I might need.  The whole thing didn't strike me from the very beginning because "all set" is phrase that everyone has used.  It only caught me when everyone everywhere was saying it.  When I brought it up to Spike, he thought for a second and agreed.  It's like we can't escape it.  Even that movie "The Town," which takes place in Boston uses the phrase a few times...now that's authenticity for you.

As I said earlier, the phrase "You good?" or "I'm good" is used primarily in the South for whatever reason.  I have used it a few times here in Maine out of habit, and sometimes it's backfired on me miserably.  I was at Whole Foods not too long ago when I bought one item.  The cashier asked if I wanted a bag for it and I said, "I'm good" meaning "No, thanks."  A few seconds passed when he finally asked, "I'm sorry, did you say 'I'm good' or 'I would'?"  If I'd said I was all set, none of that would have happened.  Now I go places and use "all set" at any point to see if I'm using it correctly.  Most of the time I fit right in.

How about from now on, we stop with the idioms and use a simple "yes" or "no, thank you" to get through our daily lives?  Or at least ask a question that is a little more specific?  It seems like it would make life a little easier for everyone, but then again how would you know if you were in the Northeast or the South?

Whoopie Pie? More Like Oops Pie.

A Whoopie Pie is a sweet treat found here in Maine and throughout the eastern US.  It's essentially a chocolate cake sandwich - two small cakes with gritty sugary icing in the middle.  Isn't that just an Oreo Cakester, you ask?  Yes, but Oreo stole the idea from the Whoopie Pie.  When the Cakesters first came out, I bought a box of them because I thought it would be something a little different.  Two of them come in a package, and if you eat more than one you probably have a sweet tooth that's not easily satiated.  Those things could give you a cavity just by looking at them.  

Today I tried my hand at making this northern staple.  I made red velvet Whoopie Pies with cream cheese frosting in the middle.  None of my cookbooks had a red velvet cake recipe so I was left to fend for myself.  I understand that it's just chocolate cake with red dye in it, but I didn't know if there was something different that I had to do since you drop the batter on a baking sheet like a cookie.  As it turns out, not really.

After a miserable first run, I found the groove and baked to my heart's content.  I even had enough batter to make a few cupcakes.    And then I tried them.  They weren't chocolatey enough for me and something seemed kind of "off."  They were pretty flat, not the puffy cake that you might imagine.  What I need to do next time is get a recipe for Whoopie Pies that comes from a place around Portland.  Because apparently this city boasts the best one in the country - from Two Fat Cats Bakery.  They've set the standard and I'm working my way up to it.

The Blueberry Post

Before I ever dreamt about the day I'd move to Maine, I made a blueberry pie back in Texas. It was the first pie I'd ever made, and one of those things I wanted to prove to myself that I could do. Like most things that I do in the kitchen, it took me a really long time from start to finish to get this thing on the table. I made the dough for the crust, refrigerated it, rolled it out, prepared the filling, let it set...you get the idea. I'm sure this thing took me a good 6 hours from start to finish. It was exhausting, but was incredibly rewarding. Spike still goes on about that first blueberry pie, which is pictured below.

Last week was Spike's 30th birthday. And, you guessed it, he wanted a blueberry pie. Of course, Maine is synonymous with blueberries so it only seemed fitting. Since the fruit is only in season during the summer months, I had to go to the frozen section or pay $3.69 for a HALF pint. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, but this recipe calls for 6 cups of blueberries! Those better be the best darn tasting blueberries that ever came in contact with my lips. The frozen blueberries were a better deal and from Maine.

The thing about Maine blueberries is that they actually quite small compared with the ones we're all used to (see above). I'd say they're about the size of a pea, sometimes bigger. We can't taste a difference. And the advantage of using a smaller berry is that the pie is jammed full of these things...more berries means a better dessert, right? It's a win/win situation! These days, I take help from the Pillsbury refrigerated pie crusts (mine are still better) and it makes for a pretty decent pie, if I do say so myself. The end result? Spike loved it and that's all that matters!

Leaf Peeper!!

Spike took these pictures of our street

Before the onset of Fall began, I told my co-workers how excited I was to watch the changing of the leaves. The pictures I'd seen and the reports I'd heard from everyone who'd been to the northeast during this season were nothing but glowing. Colors so vibrant and air so crisp that it just had to be amazing. Texas doesn't get that much changing of leaves because of the circumstances of where it's located geographically and the fact that the weather doesn't lend itself to it too well. Botany lesson for today: In order for the leaves to change color, there has to be the perfect ratio of daylight to night and the temperature has to fall between in very specific spots for the right amount of time. Maine's got it - Texas doesn't. It's just a fact.

Back when Spike and I picked apples in Alfred, the leaves were just beginning to change colors. These days they're at their peak, and the slightest rain or wind can leave them all crushed in the middle of the street looking like trash. If you've never made it to New England in the Fall, consider this your invitation. From the end of September all the way until the 3rd week in October, there's bound to be some good leaf peeping.

Leaf peeping? You read it right. Back when I told my co-workers how I couldn't wait to see the changing of the leaves, they said with disdain, "Oh, you're one of those...Leaf Peepers." I had to explain to them that I'd never seen Fall the way New England does it. I'm not sure how someone could come up here and not be fascinated by the brilliant reds, oranges, yellows, and corals that abound on the trees. I'd hate to get to the point when Fall holds nothing special anymore. These Mainers don't know how good they have it! And Texans, you don't know what you're missing!

The Bridges of Cumberland County

Yesterday I went to a wedding shower for a co-worker at the home of someone else at work. This was that stereotypical kind of Sunday drive where you just want to take your time looking at all the fall foliage and not rush to get to the destination. The directions were simple to get out there...just keep driving until you see the sign for "Covered Bridge Road." Take a left and drive down the winding road in the shade of the all the changing trees (the second part of that wasn't in the directions). You'll get to the covered bridge, cross it, and a mile from that is the house. Let me back up - the covered bridge. I don't think that Texas has any covered bridges. I'm only saying that because I've never been over a covered bridge. Please prove me wrong so I can go across it someday when I'm back in the Lone Star State.

This bridge was old or at least it looked that way. There was a 3 ton weight limit and it was only one lane so it could prove tricky if you came across someone coming toward you. I had to get out and take a few pictures. This was just too perfect. The water under the bridge was so completely still and some of the leaves on the trees had started to change in the background. I almost don't believe that I was there. But the pictures prove it, and it was amazing.

More Apple Picking in Alfred

Johnny Appleseed Ain't Got Nothin' on Me

Back in Texas, my family used to go to Fredericksburg for two reasons: to see my grandparents and to pick peaches. We'd always go to Marburger Orchard and pick Red Globe or Dixiland, depending on which was ripe. The best part was having my grandma's peach cobbler with a scoop of vanilla ice cream most likely from H-E-B. I can still see the casserole dish being pulled out of the oven with the crust just starting to turn golden and the syrup from the broken-down peaches bubbling up around it. I could never understand the people who bought their peaches at the grocery store because if they'd ever had a Fredericksburg peach, they'd never go back to those tasteless, hard peaches.

Today Spike and I went to pick apples in Alfred, a town southwest of Portland. It was the Shaker Hill Apple Festival with craft booths, a silent auction in a barn, and of course apple treats at the bakery. I've never been apple picking before, but I figured it was pretty much like my days picking peaches. Apples in the orchard were $1/pound so we bought as many as we thought we could reasonably eat and some extras so I could bake something. The temperature was a chilly 60ish with overcast skies, but the scenery made up for all that. The orchard is up on a hill looking down on an abundance of beautiful trees made even more amazing because the leaves in the area have started changing colors. We left with 5 pounds of apples, but on the way back to the car I had to have one. It was seriously one of the crunchiest, sweetest, juiciest apples I've ever had. I almost feel like today made my circle complete. I was able to go to an orchard and pick seasonal fruit in a setting that rivals the Texas Hill Country. Nothing can replace it, but it almost felt like home.

Don't Go Down-Cellar Alone

Texas can't have basements because of soggy ground and other stuff, I'm told. But virtually all the houses in New England have basements. Some people call them cellars. Our landlord, when speaking of the basement, will say, "Well, you know, I can't go down-cellar anymore. I can't drag the oxygen tank down with me." He's 85. And he's right - he has no business going "down-cellar."

You know that part in "Home Alone" when Kevin goes down to the basement to do laundry because he's being responsible? And it's dark and quiet and all kinds of creepy? Then the furnace kicks in and scares the living daylights out of him so he runs upstairs just as fast as his legs will carry him? Yeah, our basement is that kind of scary. I also know better than to go down there by myself at night. I take that back. I don't EVER go down there at night, period.

I thought I might give you an idea of what our basement looks like. It's been partitioned off so we have half and our landlord has the other. It would be very large if it weren't for the fence/wall in the middle. The first picture is of the stairs leading down - with no handrails mind you. The second is of our half. Down there is a 200 gallon tank used to hold oil since much of Maine is on top of granite. Granite is too hard to drill through, which means none of the houses have gas. It also means that we have to check the oil level in the tank every few months so we don't run on sludge. The last picture is of the furnace. And let me tell you, that thing will definitely have you screaming like Macaulay Culkin if you're not expecting it when it kicks in. I've been known to high tail it out of there on a hand full of occasions.

We're Still Here

This Labor Day weekend, Spike and I thought it might be fun to head down to New York City to see some friends - even if our friends didn't really have that much advance notice. The point of the weekend was to get out of town. I had a four day weekend and Spike had a 3 1/2 days off. Perfect for traveling, right? Wrong. Hurricane Earl had to make his appearance along the eastern seaboard, but it wasn't really an appearance north of Virginia and the Carolinas. But the Coast Guard wanted its people to stick close to home in case anything happened. So we stayed put.

The thing is, I knew we weren't going to be hit by this hurricane. I heard on the news last night that hurricanes hit Maine about once every 50-100 years. There is a downside to this, though. People freak out when they hear about it coming even if the forecast says that it will brush by. We had a tropical storm warning! And do you know what we got? A little rain Friday night. The streets were damp on Saturday morning, but we never heard wind gusts or the pelting of rain against windows. You know what would have happened in Texas if the weather had been like this? Nothing! Now I realize that the experiences and circumstances are different here, but most people wouldn't cancel big plans if the forecast was predicting "a brush with the weakened storm." That's like people putting their life on hold in Houston because there's something going on in South Padre Island or Brownsville. Ridiculous!

So yes, we're still here. In both senses of the word. We're still alive after a short rain on Friday night. We're also still at home trying to figure out how to spend the rest of this long weekend. Maybe we'll head down to New Hampshire where there's no sales tax or take a walk around town and enjoy the (still) beautiful weather.

Bring Out Your Inner Slovak

Something that Spike and I have come to realize is that the weekends in Portland don't always necessarily mean that we'll have a ton of things to do. In San Francisco, we could take the train into the city and find some new restaurant or activity to experience every time. Portland isn't that kind of town - it's small even though its Maine's largest city.

This past Friday was no different. We'd finished dinner and were sitting on the couch watching tv at 8:00 when the feeling of being bored and lame came to us both at the same time. We asked ourselves, "When did we become some boring? What's wrong with us?" It is understood that we don't find each other boring, just the situations that we've found ourselves in lately. So Spike went back to the New York Times article (posted in the entry before this one) and suggested we go bowling. Sure, it seems like one of those last resort kind of things, but we were desperate to get out of the house.

Bayside Bowl is a fancy looking bowling alley that doesn't bring back memories of those seedy types you remember from being a kid. No obnoxious carpet, no cigarettes allowed, no arcade games, and certainly no soggy nachos with fake "queso." This place has a real kitchen with a menu and a full bar. Not to mention a stage with a band playing there that night! We were in for a treat. We put our name down to reserve an alley and got a beer while we waited.

The band that was playing that night was Slavic Soul Party. I can't liken it to anything specific because I really think they're the only band that does this kind of music. Take a New Orleans funeral procession. Now make them white and add one hispanic dude. Now make them play eastern European music, but put a funky soul beat behind it. Now you have the band. These guys killed. The drummers came off the stage a few times, trumpeters and trombonists soloed and the accordion player serenaded. We cancelled our lane and just listened to the band. And danced. And smiled. Now does anything like this exist in Texas? I don't know, but I'm just glad they came up to entertain us for the evening so we didn't have to watch "Bruce Almighty" on Fox.

Only Going to be Here for 36 Hours?

Ever wonder what you could do in Portland if you came to visit Spike and me? Well the New York Times has it all planned out for you! I realize that there's quite a bit listed, but you could do whatever you wanted. The best part is that Portland is so small that you wouldn't be in the car for most of the time. Check out the article here!

A Foggy Day in Portland Town...

This morning I came back from dropping Spike off at work and I saw this spiderweb attached to the clothesline at the back of the house. It seemed so picturesque because it was foggy, which made dew collect on the web. I came back downstairs and took four pictures - this was the third. I hope you can imagine the stillness of the morning and appreciate nature's gift as much as I did. Click on the image for a bigger (and better!) view.

The Subaru Obsession

When I was a teenager, I somehow got it in my head that I wanted...no, NEEDED to get this Volkswagen Jetta. It was a cute, small, sporty car that I thought fit my lifestyle. Everywhere we went I'd point out the Jettas. They were everywhere! Or so I thought. Before that, it was this Kia Sportage, but let's not go there.

These days, I've seen a lot of Subarus on the road here in Maine. I never gave the Subaru a second thought until I seemed to notice them around town. I always thought the earlier models of the Forester were really awful, but it's seemed to pull its act together and redesigned the body. But back to my point...there's a lot of those cars around this area. I wouldn't have the slightest clue as to why, but it might give you an indication that they're good here in the winter. This year they discontinued their LL Bean (a Maine-based company as discussed in an earlier post) edition cars. Kind of like how Ford had the Eddie Bauer edition Explorers. Have I lost you completely? Warning: serious off topic subject coming up. I've always been the type of person to notice the slightest things that change or are wrong in areas around me. I could go on about how it bothers me when gas stations put their 8s in upside down (there IS a right-side-up) or when the fast food places use a W to replace the lost M (or the other way around). But I SERIOUSLY digress.

Since I started thinking about Subarus, I started doing research to find out more about them. Turns out they're really safe cars. Five stars on the government safety crash tests on all their models. I guess Mainers care about being safe on the slick roads during the cold months (I haven't gotten to the reliability research though). It never fails either that there's a kayak, canoe, or some of rack storage type thingy on the roof, i.e. they seem to live pretty active lifestyles. They don't care about the body style of their vehicles. It's a box on wheels that gets them from Point A to Point B.

I guess I'll just keep noticing the Subarus until something else catches my eye. But I swear there's tons of them around town!

You Wanted Canadians, eh?

You asked for it, you got it! In my first reader's poll, you told me that you wanted to read about Canadians more than Wal-Mart or the political air of the state. I followed this poll somewhat closely and Wal-Mart had a pretty good lead for a while, but the Canadians pulled out in front for the win, a first I'm sure (kidding!). So here goes nothing...

The first night that Spike and I were in Maine, we went to On the Border for dinner. It was something familiar in this strange place that we would call our "home away from home." On our way out of the restaurant, we saw a license plate from New Brunswick, Canada, which is just north of Maine. That started the awakening that we weren't in Texas anymore. Since then we've seen license plates from Quebec, Nova Scotia and other provinces close to Maine partially because the Canadian dollar has seen a boost. While it might not be a huge boost, they still come to Maine during these months for vacation, and a weaker American dollar has only helped.

Case in point, when my sister was here this past week we went down to the Maine/New Hampshire border where there are lots of outlet shops. In Van Heusen, Monica paid with her local bank's ATM card. The clerk didn't recognize it and asked if it was Canadian. Monica's answer? "No, it's Austin, Texan." This could have also been spurred on by the fact that there was a Canadian couple in there speaking French. Next we went into Aldo where I saw a pair of really great cowboy-ish looking boots. I tried the brown ones on, but wanted to compare with the black. Since they didn't have my size in black the clerk told me that they could ship them to me for free - if I lived in the US. I've never experienced anything like this! Was I American? Oh honey, you have no idea.

Vacationland Says it All

Maine isn't called Vacationland for no reason. My sister Monica recently was here in Portland for a week and took these pictures. These are quintessential Maine.

The Portland Head Light

The back of the Harbor Fish Market

Five Islands, Maine

After dinner at Five Islands Lobster Company

with two of the islands in the background.

Portland's Old Port

Cathedral Immaculate Conception

in the background.

Wicked is as Wicked Does

California has "hella." Maine has "wicked." Texas has...Texas has. Hmm. Texas doesn't need a tag-line! When Spike and I moved to San Francisco about a year and a half ago, I never expected a) to be living in San Francisco - ever, b) to be living in Maine - ever, and c) to hate the expression "hella" so much that I've come to appreciate the expression "wicked."

Take for example, "My headache is so hella bad right now" or "My vacation was hella awesome." I heard it used on the train going to work, in the grocery store, at the movies. Anywhere people talked, that awful word came out of their mouths. My issue with it isn't that it has the word "hell" in it. It's that it's such a crazy abbreviation of "hell of a." This just goes to prove how lax people on the west coast are about their speech. My friend Rene said that kids at school would even say "hecka" so they weren't cursing. I'm not sure which one I dislike more.

Maine's version of "hella" is "wicked." This one I like much more. They probably use it just as much as the Californians used...that other word. Mainers like to use "wicked" to describe everything from storms to food to traffic. It can go either way to describe something bad or good. Let's practice, shall we?

That guy had the most wicked fast pitch.

He scraped up his knee wicked bad.

The food at the restaurant was so wicked awesome.

I like "wicked" because it seems like it has roots a little bit deeper than "hella." Sure, new words come around all the time, but "hella" needs to be put on the back-burner and left to burn. To a black crisp. Then put down the disposal with the moldy leftovers that have been in the back of the fridge for two months. Now THAT would be wicked.

The Wide Open Road (Kill)

I guess Texans aren't the only ones who know how to tell a tall tale...or use PhotoShop!

We all know the look of a dead armadillo on the side of the road in the Hill Country. That sad prehistoric looking thing on it's back with its legs sticking up and no longer moving. It's the staple in Texas...I don't even think twice when I see them anymore. Now deer on the other hand are a different hazard all together since they can total your car. I remember driving down to Fredericksburg one summer to see my grandparents and we had a few close calls with deer down there. But at least at night you can see a deer's eyes reflecting your headlights.

Not so with moose. I haven't come across any since I haven't travelled too far off the beaten road in Maine. Their eyes don't reflect the light so I guess YOU might be the one with the "deer in the headlights" look when one is passing in front of your car. One morning I was listening to the radio and the newsman reported that over the weekend a moose had been hit on the interstate. It sounded pretty brutal. I'll attempt a reenactment: "Over the weekend, an adult moose was hit on the southbound side of I-95 several times before it attempted to get away. It was passing over to the northbound side where it was hit several times again. Needless to say, there wasn't much left of the moose." Really? Did he have to include that last sentence? Now I have moose guts and parts in my imagination that I didn't want. And how kind of me to pass that along to you, huh?

If you've never seen a live moose like me, you've heard that they're big and dumb and that's about it. Well to give you an idea, an adult bull will stand about 6-7 feet high at the SHOULDER. We still have those head and antlers to think about. And they can weigh up to 1500 pounds. And apparently they're dumb enough to charge cars during mating season if they think your little Honda is a threat to the female they have their eyes on. Over the 4th of July weekend a moose calf was spotted across the road from my house near the Arby's. I guess they have cravings for roast beef, Jamocha shakes, and curly fries too.

Writer's Block

I take this blog somewhat seriously. I say somewhat because I obviously don't keep up with it on a regular basis or keep up with who's "following". As you can see, I haven't written a new entry since the first of July and I kind of like it like that. I have a few ideas floating around in my head about what I could say, but I want to truly be inspired by my surroundings and people. So don't give up on me yet. I'm just still chewing on a few things that I feel you might like to read. Have any ideas or want to know anything about Maine? Just comment and I might be inspired!

Come and Git Yer Live Lobsters!

To combat this "not wanting to cook" syndrome with Spike away, I ordered Thai food the other night. Curry has become my new favorite dish, and Mekhong Thai down the road knows just how to make it. I usually get green curry chicken while Spike usually gets the Massaman, or red, curry. I ordered both dishes so I could get 4 meals out of them when it was all said and done.

Driving over to the restaurant was actually kind of entertaining despite the rush hour traffic. All within 30 seconds while waiting at a red light, I saw some of the funniest things I've seen in a while. First, Walgreens was advertising on their electric sign that they had live lobsters. Uhhh...seriously? I can just imagine at the next dinner party, "These lobsters are delicious. Did you get them down at the Wharf?" And the response, "Nope. I got 'em down at the Wol-greens. They was on special." That's when you know you're a redneck in Maine: you get your lobsters at Walgreens. I'm still confused about this.

Next, a car in the lane next to me was sporting every kind of New England Patriots signage you could imagine. And one other thing - a bumper sticker that said "I Hate Peyton Manning." Now I'm no football buff. Spike and I hate football so much that we have deemed Super Bowl Sunday the best day to go out to eat for a quiet meal in a restaurant. But Peyton Manning is hilarious. Did you see him do the United Way commercial parody on Saturday Night Live? It's classic! And besides that, it was one of the funniest SNLs I've ever seen. Period. I'm just going to go out on a limb and say that these Patriots fans have no sense of humor and are jealous of Peyton Manning.

Last, in the building next to Mekhong Thai is a small seafood store that sells lobsters among other things. I've never been in there, but I know this because there's a white van that sits on the side of the street and has this advertised on the back doors. But it's no ordinary advertising. They really went to great lengths to make this sign look good. So good that it looks like they got their four year old to paint "Lobsters $6.99/lb" with an oversized brush and in lobster blood. That's a lot of dead lobsters. And it definitely makes me want to buy seafood from people who park their van (the kind with no windows, mind you) on the street and advertise their offerings in lobster blood. Yummy.

The LL Bean Experience

Before we moved to Maine, my friend Rene wanted to get me a going away present. She asked if I had a pair of slippers for the winter. I can't remember if I said yes or no, but the truth is that I do have a pair of slippers. Pink, terry cloth, old as all get out. Kind of embarrassing seeing as how I've probably had them since I was in high school. So maybe I said no because I could use a new pair of slippers...some wicked good slippers to be exact.

Wicked Good Slippers are the slippers that LL Bean makes. They're made of "superior sheepskin" and insulated with shearling. Just looking at them makes me want to curl up with a mug of hot chocolate on a cold winter day. Rene tried to order these online, but they were sold out during the holiday season. As they should be! Ever since, I've had these slippers on my mind. LL Bean's website has their customers' reviews of the Wicked Good Slippers, and with 849 reviews the rating is an incredible 4.7 out of 5 stars. And we all know how the math goes on reviews...you really have to have a LOT of good feedback on the product to keep the rating up that high.

For those of you who don't know, LL Bean is all Maine. The names of their products are taken from local towns, bodies of water, and recreational areas. The flagship store is about 20 minutes north of where I live. I drove up there yesterday, but was unable to find it due to GPS error (that's a whole other posting). What I did find in Freeport was a ton of outlet shops. They have some nice shops too: Coach, Banana Republic, Jones New York, and of course, an LL Bean Outlet. That place was a zoo! Customers were sifting through the racks to find the perfect deal, whether it was clothing, shoes, camping necessities, and those classic canvas tote bags. I, however, found nothing. I'm still holding out for the flagship store...if and when I finally find it.

Am I Back in Houston??

This past weekend when Spike's parents came into town, we spent it walking around the Old Port of Portland. We saw the first cruise ship of the season, hundreds of tourists, ate some wicked good clam chowdah, and braved the heat and humidity. While a high in the upper 80s and around 80% humidity might sound like a breath of fresh air to some of you in Texas, a home on the second floor does not tend to agree. The air is stifling hot, there is no breeze to cool off the apartment, and surprisingly it feels better outside. I don't even bother to look at the thermostat on these kind of days because it only depresses me to know that the air inside my home is sometimes warmer than it is outside.

We took a trip to Wal-Mart because Spike needed a few things before he was leaving to go down to the Gulf Coast. Air conditioners were in the main isle near the check-outs just waiting to be snatched up by Mainers who'd held out as long as they could. I picked up our first window unit for $98. It's nothing special, but it helps cool the living room. And by that I mean that it makes the space tolerable. Not cold, but cooler.

We dealt with heat a few days like that about a month or so ago, but there was no humidity at the time. I consider that a joke now. Humidity just keeps the warm air warmer for longer making the joy of going to sleep a nightmare. I'm the type of person who likes to sleep under a sheet, cotton blanket, and the lightweight bedspread. I like the weight of the blankets on top of me. Not this past weekend. I went to sleep with not even a sheet covering me up. We opened one of the bedroom windows trying to get some sort of breeze coming in. That helped and I ended up under the sheet by the morning.

This type of weather reminds me of Houston. Except in Houston we have air conditioners. True, Mainers only need the a/c for about a month out of the year, but boy could I have used that central air over the weekend.

The "Mainer" Leagues

Is there anything more American than baseball? Basketball was invented by an American. Football? No other country plays it like us...and not the soccer kind of football. With the NBA finals going on (go Celtics!), it makes me wonder what dictates whether a city gets a professional sports team. I know it's all about money, but the majority of the states around this country have no professional teams to speak of while others have a surplus - New York Yankees and Mets? LA Lakers and Clippers?

I've never lived in a city that didn't have a major sports team until now. Houston, Dallas, and San Francisco/Oakland all have some respectable and championship teams attached to their names. The closest that we have is Boston, which is two hours away. You'd think we were in Bean Town from the way people represent the Red Sox, Celtics, Patriots, and Bruins here. I guess Mainers make due with what they have.

I grew up in the Nolan Ryan era of the Astros, the Warren Moon era of the Oilers, the Hakeem Olajuwon era of the Rockets. I was fortunate enough to go to countless Astros games, one Oilers game, and maybe one or two Rockets games. Do you know what Maine has? The Sea Dogs, a farm team of the Red Sox. The Red Claws, a basketball team that just started playing last year, is part of the NBA Development league, whatever that is. Do you get my drift? You've never heard of these teams. You've never even heard of the players either. But I guess that's what you get when you live in a city with half a million people in the Portland "metropolitan" area and one and a half million people in the whole state.

I Don't Run on Dunkin

Donut shops around New England seem like they'd be everywhere as Dunkin Donuts' competition. Not so. Surprisingly enough, I saw more independent shops in Texas. Spike and I used to make fun of these places because the name of the business was simply "Donuts". If the name was just "Donut", we'd made fun of them even more for being too cheap to buy an "S" to show that they sold more than your standard glazed.

Dunkin Donuts is everywhere here in Maine - even in Wal-Mart. It's easy to get your sugar fix in the morning - or late afternoon for that matter. That's the other thing about this chain. They're open long past any other donut shop I've ever seen. Maybe that's why the independent places can't survive. That and people are loyal to their Dunkin Donuts like they are to the Red Sox (see the previous blog posting to understand).

I've been to Dunkin twice, and I can't say that it's impressed me all that much. It's better than Krispy Kreme, which is just plain disgusting if you ask me. But nothing beats Texas' own Shipley Do-Nuts. They literally melt in your mouth. They're not dense like Krispy Kreme...they're light and airy like I think a donut should be. Shipley has more than donuts. They have kolaches, warm bagel-like bread enveloping ham and cheese or sausage and cheese. It's a step up from a pig in a blanket, and I'm often torn on whether to get a a donut or a kolache when I go to Shipley.

All this talk might make you think I'm a donut fanatic. I'm really not. Donuts are those things that are saved for special occasions. Plus if you know me, I love salty more than sweet. I can only take so much sugar before I hand everything off and am looking for some popcorn. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to wallow in sadness because Shipley doesn't exist in Maine.

Flashbacks of Texas - Part 2

This comic does not apply to you, Monica! : )

Texas Roadhouse was on the dinner menu tonight because my co-worker, Jenn, told me they now have fried pickles as an appetizer. I've been looking for fried pickles since we moved up here because I feel that they really resonate Texas. I introduced Jenn to the idea of fried pickles, and she seemed a little intrigued by the idea so when she saw them on the menu at the Roadhouse she had to try them. Her report was a good one - salty, but good.

As we walked in, the restaurant looked like every other Roadhouse we'd been to. That typical chain "everything-looks-the-same-so-you-know-you're-in-the-right-place". Olive Garden or Chili's much? The joint was playing country, of course. And about every 10 or 15 minutes, the Texas Roadhouse theme song played. Did anyone else know it existed? I do now! The worst news of the night was that they were out of fried pickles. WHAT?! That's the whole reason we showed up with the free appetizer coupon! It was all good. We ended up getting rattlesnake bites - fried cheese jalapeno balls. I went with the ribs as a an entree and Spike got the New York strip. The place was feeling like Texas - beer posters with the state outline, line dancing to Gretchen Wilson, and peanut shells littering the floor. That is until I saw the Boston Red Sox neon sign before we left...then I snapped back to reality.

April Showers Have Brought the May Flowers

Click on the pictures for a bigger image.

The flowers around our house have really started blooming.

Around the corner from our house, there's a wedge shaped piece of land that had a ton of tulips blooming about 3 or 4 weeks ago.