Hi there,
Whew it's cobwebby in here. When the newness of living in NJ wore off I stopped posting. But I'd love for you to visit my new blog, which I'm doing with my daughter. Sort of a bi-generational approach to fashion. For those of you who remember my strange outfits in middle school, don't say a word.
New blog:
13 Going on 47
Monday, April 27, 2009
Sunday, July 20, 2008
One Year and Then Some
I see that I've been writing one post every two months. Not good. Part of my forgetfulness is based on the realization that we are not quite "new" to New Jersey anymore. I'm thinking I need to redefine this blog! Maybe something like notsonew2nj...
Our one-year anniversary of moving to New Jersey came and went on June 16. It is now July 20 and I am writing from California. My daughter and I flew back to visit friends and family (I also have a magazine photo shoot for Old House Interiors on Monday). Elizabeth has missed California very much but realized on this trip that she has grown to like where she is. "I want to go home," she says tiredly to me these past two days.
So NJ is now home. I come here and take deep breaths of eucalyptus, savor the vistas of oak and golden suede hills of Marin and Sonoma. Then I'll take it all with me inside, and bring it out when the eastern air gets too sticky.
We will return on Tuesday.
Our one-year anniversary of moving to New Jersey came and went on June 16. It is now July 20 and I am writing from California. My daughter and I flew back to visit friends and family (I also have a magazine photo shoot for Old House Interiors on Monday). Elizabeth has missed California very much but realized on this trip that she has grown to like where she is. "I want to go home," she says tiredly to me these past two days.
So NJ is now home. I come here and take deep breaths of eucalyptus, savor the vistas of oak and golden suede hills of Marin and Sonoma. Then I'll take it all with me inside, and bring it out when the eastern air gets too sticky.
We will return on Tuesday.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Doing Business in Jersey
Last month I started my own business: Kotite Media Group. I never thought in a million years I'd be incorporating a business of my own, even after spending 8 years reporting on the companies of others in Entrepreneur. The bug never bit me. Now the women I worked with many years ago are venturing out on their own as well. Maybe we're just crock-pot entrepreneurs. We need to cook for a long time, but the results are well worth it.
My company is involved in many kinds of editorial projects--I really am a packager, which means I handle everything from concept, to photography, to writing, pulling a team of professionals together if necessary. Hopefully this will extend to producing entire magazine issues, books and online content that is ongoing and cohesive. Not sure that makes sense to everyone--I'll see in a few minutes when I meet with my graphic designer to see what he came up with for my logo...
My company is involved in many kinds of editorial projects--I really am a packager, which means I handle everything from concept, to photography, to writing, pulling a team of professionals together if necessary. Hopefully this will extend to producing entire magazine issues, books and online content that is ongoing and cohesive. Not sure that makes sense to everyone--I'll see in a few minutes when I meet with my graphic designer to see what he came up with for my logo...
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Clovers and tulips and spring break....oh my
This year I did NOT want to face a couple of boiling pots on the stove filled with corned beef and cabbage. Tim's in Atlanta and the kids don't even like it very much. But I do. So the obvious solution was finding a restaurant nearby with this St. Patrick's Day staple on the menu.
Not so easy. I spent at least 30 minutes on the Internet searching the usual suspects (Ruby Tuesday, TGIFridays) with no luck. Then I googled Irish pubs and got lots of those--but the emphasis was more on a liquid dinner if you know what I mean. Not that I wasn't looking forward to a cold Irish (or American or German, I'm not a purist) beer.
Triumph came in New Hope PA--with Triumph Brewery. I had never heard of it but the menu sounded great and when I called to make sure they were serving corned beef the answer was yes--AND they have a kids menu. We piled in the car and drove across the Delaware, trying to think of Irish songs...but without Tim, the authority on The Irish Rovers, I was lost.
The restaurant was a big hit for all. Nice zen-like interior with just a whiff of tobacco smoke to make us wrinkle our noses but not gag. The server was very nice and the food was quite delicious. Elizabeth and I shared the cheese and stout fondue and then split their corned beef and cabbage plate. A bit of grainy mustard on the side, an amber ale and I was set. Caroline had a nice thin-crust cheese pizza, Georgia had a feta, olive and tomato pizza appetizer and Dana had that classic Irish dish: mac and cheese.
Trying a new restaurant can be pretty stressful with three picky kids in tow. I'm happy to report that this venture got an A+. Heck, even the bathroom was nice!
Not so easy. I spent at least 30 minutes on the Internet searching the usual suspects (Ruby Tuesday, TGIFridays) with no luck. Then I googled Irish pubs and got lots of those--but the emphasis was more on a liquid dinner if you know what I mean. Not that I wasn't looking forward to a cold Irish (or American or German, I'm not a purist) beer.
Triumph came in New Hope PA--with Triumph Brewery. I had never heard of it but the menu sounded great and when I called to make sure they were serving corned beef the answer was yes--AND they have a kids menu. We piled in the car and drove across the Delaware, trying to think of Irish songs...but without Tim, the authority on The Irish Rovers, I was lost.
The restaurant was a big hit for all. Nice zen-like interior with just a whiff of tobacco smoke to make us wrinkle our noses but not gag. The server was very nice and the food was quite delicious. Elizabeth and I shared the cheese and stout fondue and then split their corned beef and cabbage plate. A bit of grainy mustard on the side, an amber ale and I was set. Caroline had a nice thin-crust cheese pizza, Georgia had a feta, olive and tomato pizza appetizer and Dana had that classic Irish dish: mac and cheese.
Trying a new restaurant can be pretty stressful with three picky kids in tow. I'm happy to report that this venture got an A+. Heck, even the bathroom was nice!
Monday, March 10, 2008
Driving in Circles
I've been putting off this post all year, hoping that I'll master the arcane art of driving in circles. I've actually mastered the art of driving in circles figuratively; I can go nowhere fast as good as anybody. But I'm of course talking about those mini versions of Parisian torture devices, the traffic circle.
New Jersey is supposedly "famous" for its traffic circles, those ingenious interchanges where stopping is merely a suggestion and yield signs reign with all the assertiveness of King Henry III. At one time there were 70 or 80 of them throughout the state; now there are only about 37 according to Wikipedia. There are two main circles in my area: the Flemington Circle on Rt. 31 and the Pennington Circle, also on Rt. 31.
My first encounter with a traffic circle was actually in Europe, probably Paris. I've had to mask that memory for mental health reasons. I was part of the problem, since I hadn't grasped one key rule: those already IN the circle had the right of way. I barreled right in and shrugged off the shrill horns as just the rudeness of the French. Guess I'm lucky to be alive.
I grew to love the wide-laned, easygoing traffic circle in Long Beach, Calif. when it was part of my commute to Torrance. It was like ego snow; you felt like a pro maneuvering through it even though it was just a bunny slope.
Here in New Jersey, these are serious traffic gauntlets. Better know your exit, dude, or you'll be showered with curses, insults and maybe other foreign objects as the smarter folks around you express themselves.
Now I know the basic rules of driving in circles. Wait until it's clear before entering the Zone. Ease in and move to the inside lane if you are not using the next exit. Ease out at your exit when all is clear. Nothing to it. Except when others aren't playing by the same rules. My biggest anxiety is not the guy behind me nibbling on my bumper. It's Racer X right next to me who any second is going to switch to the other side and try to move past. No wonder quivering fools like me stick doggedly to the outside lane. We're trying to get to where we're going without totaling the car, losing our license, or losing our minds.
New Jersey drivers are very skilled; they have to be. The skill, though, has created an unfortunate byproduct--disdain for others who don't think, react or accelerate like they do.
We need to give each other a break and a brake in those circles. After all, it's kinda social in there. I'd wave but I can't pry my fingers off the steering wheel.
New Jersey is supposedly "famous" for its traffic circles, those ingenious interchanges where stopping is merely a suggestion and yield signs reign with all the assertiveness of King Henry III. At one time there were 70 or 80 of them throughout the state; now there are only about 37 according to Wikipedia. There are two main circles in my area: the Flemington Circle on Rt. 31 and the Pennington Circle, also on Rt. 31.
My first encounter with a traffic circle was actually in Europe, probably Paris. I've had to mask that memory for mental health reasons. I was part of the problem, since I hadn't grasped one key rule: those already IN the circle had the right of way. I barreled right in and shrugged off the shrill horns as just the rudeness of the French. Guess I'm lucky to be alive.
I grew to love the wide-laned, easygoing traffic circle in Long Beach, Calif. when it was part of my commute to Torrance. It was like ego snow; you felt like a pro maneuvering through it even though it was just a bunny slope.
Here in New Jersey, these are serious traffic gauntlets. Better know your exit, dude, or you'll be showered with curses, insults and maybe other foreign objects as the smarter folks around you express themselves.
Now I know the basic rules of driving in circles. Wait until it's clear before entering the Zone. Ease in and move to the inside lane if you are not using the next exit. Ease out at your exit when all is clear. Nothing to it. Except when others aren't playing by the same rules. My biggest anxiety is not the guy behind me nibbling on my bumper. It's Racer X right next to me who any second is going to switch to the other side and try to move past. No wonder quivering fools like me stick doggedly to the outside lane. We're trying to get to where we're going without totaling the car, losing our license, or losing our minds.
New Jersey drivers are very skilled; they have to be. The skill, though, has created an unfortunate byproduct--disdain for others who don't think, react or accelerate like they do.
We need to give each other a break and a brake in those circles. After all, it's kinda social in there. I'd wave but I can't pry my fingers off the steering wheel.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Snow Days
I'm trying hard to recall the sweaty days of summer. Remember, waking up to the drone of the air conditioner? Remember, avoiding the Easy Bake attic at all costs? Remember, silently blessing the neighbors for their swimming pool and their open-door policy? I banked up all of those memories to get me through the winter and up until now they've been pretty effective. Until Tuesday, when the snow from the barn roof slid off in one slushy sheet, missing my head by a few inches.
Everyone's telling us this is a very mild winter, for which I am grateful. Still, it's cold. Californians are very familiar with snow of course; it snows a lot in the Sierras. Tahoe and Big Bear have some of the greatest skiing in the country. But the vast majority of us don't live with it; we just visit it. Big difference.
The snow didn't last very long. A nice long rainshower melted it into chains of street puddles and a quagmire in the backyard. If we're going to put up with snow at least let's get a serious storm that puts a few inches down. Give us a Snow Day, which for some reason my daughters are obsessed with. Let us walk outside with our snow clothes and our plastic saucers, so we can sled down the slopes at the cemetery across the street.
Then it can be spring.
Everyone's telling us this is a very mild winter, for which I am grateful. Still, it's cold. Californians are very familiar with snow of course; it snows a lot in the Sierras. Tahoe and Big Bear have some of the greatest skiing in the country. But the vast majority of us don't live with it; we just visit it. Big difference.
The snow didn't last very long. A nice long rainshower melted it into chains of street puddles and a quagmire in the backyard. If we're going to put up with snow at least let's get a serious storm that puts a few inches down. Give us a Snow Day, which for some reason my daughters are obsessed with. Let us walk outside with our snow clothes and our plastic saucers, so we can sled down the slopes at the cemetery across the street.
Then it can be spring.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Only Cat in the Doghouse
For almost a year our two Siamese cats have only seen New Jersey from inside the walls of our colonial house. There was the time Kristi squeezed out the second-floor bathroom screen and clung for dear life on the porch overhang...but it was brief. A few weeks ago it was Belle's turn to view life on the outside. She developed a weird smell on her fur that transferred itself to the freshly washed sheets of Elizabeth and Caroline. So I decided it was finally time for a visit to the friendly vet. My neighbor Hank told me to go to Hopewell Veterinary Group. I bundled her in her pet carrier and away we went. She was terrified from the first; the terror mounted on first sniff at the vet's. They always smell like dog and of course they are always filled with dogs. I sat down with a petrified, growling cat and saw that I was surrounded by a bull mastiff, Cavalier King Charles spaniel, a mutt and a little rugrat whose breed I couldn't identify. Every few minutes the bull mastiff would snuffle the carrier until finally, Belle snapped. I couldn't see what she was doing inside but the whole carrier jumped off the seat and settled back on its side. Everyone looked at me and the mastiff's owner pulled him back and explained that "the kitty doesn't want to play." I felt like a party pooper and was relieved to hear my name called.
We never figured out the cause of that smell, the vet and I. All he had to do was collect my $20 and tell me to give her a bath. Easy for him to say. Have you ever bathed a cat? That's a whole other story.
We never figured out the cause of that smell, the vet and I. All he had to do was collect my $20 and tell me to give her a bath. Easy for him to say. Have you ever bathed a cat? That's a whole other story.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Toll Manners
The other day I was given a ride to an event taking place in Kennett Square, PA. (Incidentally, I can only say 'Pee-Ayyy' now for that state, after my cousin Georgia heard someone say it and the pronunciation struck our fancy.)
Anyway, well before we approached the first toll gate I heard a great rustling in the back seat. I was so busy talking I wasn't paying any attention to the fact that we would soon need to come up with some money and the big unspoken issue was...who would pay?
A few dollar bills were thrust up to Elizabeth (the driver) between the seats. She protested and the ladies in back insisted. Reluctantly she took it. I began rooting around in my own wallet for the next opportunity to treat the toll.
I guess it's like the polite fights that ensue over who will get the lunch tab. I wonder if men fight as much as women for the privilege to pay? Also, is there an unwritten code of conduct for paying tolls? I assume that here in New Jersey, it's simply considered a nice way to say thank you if someone else is doing the driving. Especially when gas is well over $3.00 a gallon.
If there's more to it than that I'd appreciate someone filling me in.
Anyway, well before we approached the first toll gate I heard a great rustling in the back seat. I was so busy talking I wasn't paying any attention to the fact that we would soon need to come up with some money and the big unspoken issue was...who would pay?
A few dollar bills were thrust up to Elizabeth (the driver) between the seats. She protested and the ladies in back insisted. Reluctantly she took it. I began rooting around in my own wallet for the next opportunity to treat the toll.
I guess it's like the polite fights that ensue over who will get the lunch tab. I wonder if men fight as much as women for the privilege to pay? Also, is there an unwritten code of conduct for paying tolls? I assume that here in New Jersey, it's simply considered a nice way to say thank you if someone else is doing the driving. Especially when gas is well over $3.00 a gallon.
If there's more to it than that I'd appreciate someone filling me in.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Perspective from California
We've been in New Jersey for six months, and then some. I don't know how much longer I can claim being "new to NJ." But really, so many novel situations, food items, expressions and cultural peculiarities keep coming up I feel sure I'll have plenty to write about for months to come.
We flew back to California for the Christmas holidays on Wednesday. The weather had been icy for more than a week, but the morning of our departure we got a break. It was probably in the low 40s. Scary to leave your house in the winter for a couple of weeks. I keep imagining our pipes are going to burst or someone will crash into our house (more on that later). Our wonderful neighbors promised to feed the cats and our newly acquired dwarf goats, Happy, Matisse and Eloise. The Christmas lights are timed and the candles burn non-stop in the windows. I console myself that it's better we were NOT there if someone ends up plowing their car through our living room.
It's nice to have toilet seat cover dispensers in the public bathrooms again. It's nice to wake up all perky at 6 am and feel like you've slept in. It's nice to see beloved family again after so many months. I want to drive all over the place and recapture images of the places I love best--the Sonoma back roads, the Mendocino coastline, the Napa Valley, Marin. The days will fly, no doubt.
A very merry Christmas to all of you out there. East or west, home is best.
We flew back to California for the Christmas holidays on Wednesday. The weather had been icy for more than a week, but the morning of our departure we got a break. It was probably in the low 40s. Scary to leave your house in the winter for a couple of weeks. I keep imagining our pipes are going to burst or someone will crash into our house (more on that later). Our wonderful neighbors promised to feed the cats and our newly acquired dwarf goats, Happy, Matisse and Eloise. The Christmas lights are timed and the candles burn non-stop in the windows. I console myself that it's better we were NOT there if someone ends up plowing their car through our living room.
It's nice to have toilet seat cover dispensers in the public bathrooms again. It's nice to wake up all perky at 6 am and feel like you've slept in. It's nice to see beloved family again after so many months. I want to drive all over the place and recapture images of the places I love best--the Sonoma back roads, the Mendocino coastline, the Napa Valley, Marin. The days will fly, no doubt.
A very merry Christmas to all of you out there. East or west, home is best.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Gratitude, Attitude on Thanksgiving
First, for those of you dangling on my cliffhanger of NJ 15th District election results many weeks back, here's relief, in brief:
1. Overall, the message seemed to be "quit spending money!" Stem cell research and all the bond issues were rejected. So my bike path won't be constructed any time soon.
2. I think Shirley Turner won re-election for the State Legislature. I'm still trying to figure out who else won. It's not easy to go back and figure out local election results. Doesn't exactly make the NY Times. Don't worry; I'm sure we're in good hands. And if we're not there are a million self-made political commentators with blogs who will flush out the bad guys, or at least embarrass the hell out of them.
3. The offensive language about idiots and insane persons has been omitted from the New Jersey constitution. Phew.
So now I wanted to share some insights I've gleaned over this Thanksgiving weekend. It feels strange to wear sweaters because you have to, and not because you're trying to look the part of a Ralph Lauren-esque family (or as my cousin Georgia puts it, "You're Ralph Lauren, but messy."
I really haven't missed my close proximity to California wines. Seriously, New Jersey devotes a lot of shelf space to great wines and has some good wines of its own. On Wednesday afternoon I walked into Phillips Fine Wines...and kept walking. Room after room of wines from every region in the world. I was on a quest for Zin; Bon Appetit recommended it as a good pairing with turkey. The young guy who helped me seemed very knowledgeable and though they didn't have the few vintages I had circled, he was able to offer some alternative suggestions. We had "The Monster" from Norman Vineyards in Paso Robles. Ahh, home in a bottle.
Rutabagas are REALLY hard to cut.
Getting five people to smile and keep their eyes open and on the camera at the same time is nearly impossible. And gets more impossible every year. Hope everyone will like our annual family photo and not be too critical.
We all stated what we were grateful for at the table; most of the responses involved "family, friends, food" -- the three F words that are not offensive in the least.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Exercising My Constitutional Right
I squeaked in, apparently. My sample ballot arrived on Friday. I'm in the 15th Legislative District, in Hopewell Township, in Mercer County. Good--more evidence as to where I live officially.
I must choose a state senator, two general assembly people, a county executive, two board members of chosen freeholders (not familiar with that one) and two township committee members. All neatly divided by political party, which makes it somewhat easy, although I suppose I should vote by experience and qualifications, by how much I think that individual will accomplish in office. Tell you what, I'll keep an eye on these people once they get voted in and by the next election I'll know who worked, and who didn't.
Then there are five "public questions to be voted on." The first one has to do with setting aside 1% of the state sales tax to be used for property tax relief and/or reform. I think I'm for that. Property tax here is staggering. I feel like we get a lot--the schools are great and the police force is really vigilant on speeders. But it's still hard to keep up with the payments. Still, I have no idea if this would even affect us personally. So I'll ask around about this one.
The second question is about financing stem cell research in New Jersey's higher education and "other entities." I've already been told how to vote on that, by Monsigneur at church. The answer is "no." Adult stem cells only, if you please. No embryos. According to the unbiased information provided at the church (we were subjected to a film on the subject a few weeks ago that nobody could hear or understand), adult stem cells have better results anyway. Hmmmm.
The third question and the fifth question have to do with open space purchasing, preservation and creating walkways and bikeways. I always vote yes on these kinds of questions. Properties prone to flooding in the Delaware River, Passaic River and Raritan River areas can be sold to the government for a fair price and would be kept open and preserved. And personally, I could really use a bike/running path along Mt. Airy Road. I'm already tired of jumping into the ditch every time a driver who is late for work comes barreling down the road well above the speed limit (it's 35mph, idiots!!!!)
Speaking of idiots, I come to question four. This one won't cost us anything and should pass easily. It's asking that in the part of the state constitution barring "idiot or insane persons" from voting, can we agree to remove the phrase "idiot or insane person." It would be replaced with the ponderous phrase "person who has been adjudicated by a court of competent jurisdiction to lack the capacity to understand the act of voting." Fine. Lots of people lack the capacity to understand the act of voting and don't bother doing it. On the other hand, many idiots and insane persons stride right in and give it their best shot. Ain't that America?
Sure, change the language, make it more timely and less offensive. If I'm idiotic or insane I'm hoping my family will tell me and not the New Jersey courts.
I must choose a state senator, two general assembly people, a county executive, two board members of chosen freeholders (not familiar with that one) and two township committee members. All neatly divided by political party, which makes it somewhat easy, although I suppose I should vote by experience and qualifications, by how much I think that individual will accomplish in office. Tell you what, I'll keep an eye on these people once they get voted in and by the next election I'll know who worked, and who didn't.
Then there are five "public questions to be voted on." The first one has to do with setting aside 1% of the state sales tax to be used for property tax relief and/or reform. I think I'm for that. Property tax here is staggering. I feel like we get a lot--the schools are great and the police force is really vigilant on speeders. But it's still hard to keep up with the payments. Still, I have no idea if this would even affect us personally. So I'll ask around about this one.
The second question is about financing stem cell research in New Jersey's higher education and "other entities." I've already been told how to vote on that, by Monsigneur at church. The answer is "no." Adult stem cells only, if you please. No embryos. According to the unbiased information provided at the church (we were subjected to a film on the subject a few weeks ago that nobody could hear or understand), adult stem cells have better results anyway. Hmmmm.
The third question and the fifth question have to do with open space purchasing, preservation and creating walkways and bikeways. I always vote yes on these kinds of questions. Properties prone to flooding in the Delaware River, Passaic River and Raritan River areas can be sold to the government for a fair price and would be kept open and preserved. And personally, I could really use a bike/running path along Mt. Airy Road. I'm already tired of jumping into the ditch every time a driver who is late for work comes barreling down the road well above the speed limit (it's 35mph, idiots!!!!)
Speaking of idiots, I come to question four. This one won't cost us anything and should pass easily. It's asking that in the part of the state constitution barring "idiot or insane persons" from voting, can we agree to remove the phrase "idiot or insane person." It would be replaced with the ponderous phrase "person who has been adjudicated by a court of competent jurisdiction to lack the capacity to understand the act of voting." Fine. Lots of people lack the capacity to understand the act of voting and don't bother doing it. On the other hand, many idiots and insane persons stride right in and give it their best shot. Ain't that America?
Sure, change the language, make it more timely and less offensive. If I'm idiotic or insane I'm hoping my family will tell me and not the New Jersey courts.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Boro, Township, Village...Where Do I Live?
When we looked at homes last spring our agent tried to explain the whole concept of boro/village/township. My over-stimulated brain remembers something about "the tax base" and "municipality" and then I remember a lot of "yada yada yada, blah, blah, blah." I should have paid more attention.
Township--a small fiefdom within a county. Citizens are given certain powers, like maintaining their roads and overseeing land use issues.
Boro--an ancient word referring to either an administrative division of a city (such as New York's five boroughs), or a self-governing incorporated town.
Village--a really cute town. Sorry, just being a smart aleck. But really, what's the difference between a village and a boro? Is a village sometimes unincorporated? Is it a question of size?
We live practically on top of the line between Hunterdon and Mercer counties. I get counties and now know that officially we're in Mercer County. And I know that we are ALSO in Hopewell Township. But our street address is in Lambertville, which is not only NOT in Hopewell Township, it's in another county! This leads to interesting problems, such as registering to vote and programming directions on our GPS. When I tried to register to vote at the nearest DMV (which is in Flemington), my application was rejected because it was from the wrong county.
The biggest insult--at the Lambertville Free Library, we were asked to pay $30 for a library card. "But I have a Lambertville address," I objected.
"Yes, but you do not live in the VILLAGE of Lambertville," the lady replied.
You can't catch a municipal break around here.
Township--a small fiefdom within a county. Citizens are given certain powers, like maintaining their roads and overseeing land use issues.
Boro--an ancient word referring to either an administrative division of a city (such as New York's five boroughs), or a self-governing incorporated town.
Village--a really cute town. Sorry, just being a smart aleck. But really, what's the difference between a village and a boro? Is a village sometimes unincorporated? Is it a question of size?
We live practically on top of the line between Hunterdon and Mercer counties. I get counties and now know that officially we're in Mercer County. And I know that we are ALSO in Hopewell Township. But our street address is in Lambertville, which is not only NOT in Hopewell Township, it's in another county! This leads to interesting problems, such as registering to vote and programming directions on our GPS. When I tried to register to vote at the nearest DMV (which is in Flemington), my application was rejected because it was from the wrong county.
The biggest insult--at the Lambertville Free Library, we were asked to pay $30 for a library card. "But I have a Lambertville address," I objected.
"Yes, but you do not live in the VILLAGE of Lambertville," the lady replied.
You can't catch a municipal break around here.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
My Civic Duty
I have 14 days until the next election and not only did I nearly forget to register, I am unclear--that is, I have no clue--who is running and who's in office. My friend Kathleen back in Sacramento is gritting her teeth if she is reading this. She is always on top of the political scene, from U.S. Senate to City Council, and I've always admired her for that. So what better time to get my gubernatorial and other-natorial act together than now? I can claim the ignorance of a newcomer for only so long.
Spent 1/2 an hour last week getting my printer to work right, then downloaded and printed two copies of the New Jersey Voter Registration Form on Mercer County's Office of the Attorney General site. We'll see if they let us vote. Of course it would be nice to know what we're voting for. But that's up to me.
Did you know there's a way for NJ candidates to run clean campaigns? A pilot program called The New Jersey Fair and Clean Elections Project? offers financial aid to candidates in Districts 14, 24 and 37 if the candidate can get 400 to 800 donations from supporters in the district...in $10 increments. He or she must refuse big donations. Then the campaign is eligible for public funding. I guess the idea is that lots of small donations is cleaner and fairer than one or two big ones. This is Soprano country after all. I'll keep an eye on this but first I need to figure out which district I live in.
More on this later, as I ponder the next question: Boro, Township, Village--Where Do I Live?
Spent 1/2 an hour last week getting my printer to work right, then downloaded and printed two copies of the New Jersey Voter Registration Form on Mercer County's Office of the Attorney General site. We'll see if they let us vote. Of course it would be nice to know what we're voting for. But that's up to me.
Did you know there's a way for NJ candidates to run clean campaigns? A pilot program called The New Jersey Fair and Clean Elections Project? offers financial aid to candidates in Districts 14, 24 and 37 if the candidate can get 400 to 800 donations from supporters in the district...in $10 increments. He or she must refuse big donations. Then the campaign is eligible for public funding. I guess the idea is that lots of small donations is cleaner and fairer than one or two big ones. This is Soprano country after all. I'll keep an eye on this but first I need to figure out which district I live in.
More on this later, as I ponder the next question: Boro, Township, Village--Where Do I Live?
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Getting Lost...in a Maze
Lots of people west of.....Pennsylvania, let's say, don't have a clue about New Jersey's vast countryside and farmlands. It's really a gorgeous place once you get past Meadowlands (sounds pastoral, but ugh) and Newark. Heck, even Elizabeth has some really neat old buildings in its downtown; I can see them from the train. I'm going to stop there sometime and check it out for myself.
The point is, don't judge a book by its cover, or in this case, don't judge New Jersey by the view from the Turnpike. Here in the Delaware Valley the countryside is drop-dead gorgeous especially as the leaves start to fall.
As Halloween approaches we are treating ourselves and our children to some fun fall events...like the Howell Living History Farm's amazing Corn Maze.
This is not your average pumpkin patch kiddy activity. These guys are serious--4 acres of an intricate horseshoe mirror pattern that the guides promise we'll get out of in oh, about an hour and a half if we're good. Tim and I looked at each other, gazed up at the hot October sky, quickly assessed how long we'd survive without sunblock and bottled water, then plunked down $30 for the privilege of getting lost.
Amidst the rows of tall, dry corn are 8 mailboxes. Each mailbox holds a piece of the map. Once you find all 8 pieces of the map you can find your way out. We quickly got into the spirit of things and pressed on, each of us sure that our way was the right way.
We stared at tall, rustling corn stalks for a very long time. Mazes do mess with your mind--you feel sure you've discovered a different path, then you see that the mailbox was one you had already opened 3 rounds back. Four acres is a lot of corn.
In about 1/2 hour, the kids got pretty hot and thirsty. We began to notice that there were tiny crawlthroughs on some of the paths, the unsanctioned shortcuts to key trails and mailbox cul-de-sacs. Nope, that would be cheating. Can't do it. At least not when the other participants were looking.
Other tired parents were starting to break. The entire moral code of the group, like a page out of Lord of the Flies, began to fray and soon we were able to rationalize our cheating as tactical scouting. By mailbox #8 we were all in collusion to finish our maps and walk triumphantly over the bridge. Free at last!
We walked back to the little gift shop that had taken our money in the beginning. "How did you like it?" said the lady in charge. We said very much, only next year we'll come prepared with provisions.
My daughter Caroline picked up a postcard showing an aerial view of the maze and said, "Hey mom, why didn't we just buy this map before we started?"
She's so smart.
The point is, don't judge a book by its cover, or in this case, don't judge New Jersey by the view from the Turnpike. Here in the Delaware Valley the countryside is drop-dead gorgeous especially as the leaves start to fall.
As Halloween approaches we are treating ourselves and our children to some fun fall events...like the Howell Living History Farm's amazing Corn Maze.
This is not your average pumpkin patch kiddy activity. These guys are serious--4 acres of an intricate horseshoe mirror pattern that the guides promise we'll get out of in oh, about an hour and a half if we're good. Tim and I looked at each other, gazed up at the hot October sky, quickly assessed how long we'd survive without sunblock and bottled water, then plunked down $30 for the privilege of getting lost.
Amidst the rows of tall, dry corn are 8 mailboxes. Each mailbox holds a piece of the map. Once you find all 8 pieces of the map you can find your way out. We quickly got into the spirit of things and pressed on, each of us sure that our way was the right way.
We stared at tall, rustling corn stalks for a very long time. Mazes do mess with your mind--you feel sure you've discovered a different path, then you see that the mailbox was one you had already opened 3 rounds back. Four acres is a lot of corn.
In about 1/2 hour, the kids got pretty hot and thirsty. We began to notice that there were tiny crawlthroughs on some of the paths, the unsanctioned shortcuts to key trails and mailbox cul-de-sacs. Nope, that would be cheating. Can't do it. At least not when the other participants were looking.
Other tired parents were starting to break. The entire moral code of the group, like a page out of Lord of the Flies, began to fray and soon we were able to rationalize our cheating as tactical scouting. By mailbox #8 we were all in collusion to finish our maps and walk triumphantly over the bridge. Free at last!
We walked back to the little gift shop that had taken our money in the beginning. "How did you like it?" said the lady in charge. We said very much, only next year we'll come prepared with provisions.
My daughter Caroline picked up a postcard showing an aerial view of the maze and said, "Hey mom, why didn't we just buy this map before we started?"
She's so smart.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
All the leaves are falling!
Just as we let go of one preoccupation--that would be summer humidity--another one obligingly steps in to take its place. I always wondered what the point was of raking leaves. Why not just leave them lying around? Now I know. The first layer looks a little picturesque (at least to this unjaded resident), the second layer makes you look a little harder for that nice green lawn. By the third and fourth layers you're avoiding the neighbors and their immaculate yards, wondering if you should just put out four wood block. set a broken-down tractor on top and admit you're a leaf-slacker.
We had lots of falling leaves in California--oak, maple, birch--but nothing like the prodigious shedding of a sycamore (or more precisely, a London Plane). Even the bark sheds. Our nice neighbor Hank has been tantalizing us with the offer to borrow the leaf vacuum attachment on his tractor. Not as romantic as old wooden-handled rakes and laughing children dressed in corduroy jumping on piles of leaves...does that ever happen around here? I think I read too many L.L. Bean catalogs.
We had lots of falling leaves in California--oak, maple, birch--but nothing like the prodigious shedding of a sycamore (or more precisely, a London Plane). Even the bark sheds. Our nice neighbor Hank has been tantalizing us with the offer to borrow the leaf vacuum attachment on his tractor. Not as romantic as old wooden-handled rakes and laughing children dressed in corduroy jumping on piles of leaves...does that ever happen around here? I think I read too many L.L. Bean catalogs.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Welcome to NJ
For anyone who has moved cross-country, especially with kids, this blog's for you. But just so you know, I won't be going on and on about the moving experience (it was hard but we survived). Coming from California, to be more specific, the SF Bay Area, and narrowing it still further, Marin County, we heard this a lot: "You're moving to...New Jersey? Why?"
Why? For work, of course! My husband and I were trained in the generation of "work your way up" and "you don't get ahead by standing still" so we were open to the idea of moving if either of us found a better job somewhere else. Tim found his first, in Carteret. So on June 16, we flew to Philadelphia on a one-way ticket and drove to our new house.
Over the past few months I've had some curious experiences and discovered some wonderful things about my adopted state. I will share them with anyone who cares--don't you want to know where we bought our house and what our neighbors are like? Aren't you dying to find out what I think about diners, traffic circles, county roads, Dunkin' Donuts (nowhere NEAR as popular out west), roadside farm stands and unidentifiable flying insects? Welcome to my new world...I think it's gonna be a winner.
Why? For work, of course! My husband and I were trained in the generation of "work your way up" and "you don't get ahead by standing still" so we were open to the idea of moving if either of us found a better job somewhere else. Tim found his first, in Carteret. So on June 16, we flew to Philadelphia on a one-way ticket and drove to our new house.
Over the past few months I've had some curious experiences and discovered some wonderful things about my adopted state. I will share them with anyone who cares--don't you want to know where we bought our house and what our neighbors are like? Aren't you dying to find out what I think about diners, traffic circles, county roads, Dunkin' Donuts (nowhere NEAR as popular out west), roadside farm stands and unidentifiable flying insects? Welcome to my new world...I think it's gonna be a winner.
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