Vacation reading

Mr. Mouse, the new dog - a/k/a Boy Genius, for his propensity for accidentally locking himself in rooms - and I were recently down in the southern Utah desert for a week's vacation.  We did active stuff in the mornings (mountain biking and hiking) but hunkered down through the middle of the day, in the A/C and out of the sun, napping and reading.

I read all of the above books.  Well, technically I'm not quite done with Swan Song yet, and I didn't read Witches Abroad because I picked it up out of order.  But I did read the rest of them, plus the last two books of Stephen King's Dark Tower series, so that's a decent number of pages read.

Joe Hill's Stranger Weather is not his strongest outing; his other short stories are much better.  Similarly, his father's Elevation is a slight thing, a novella very much of its time.  I appreciate King's politics but this little book was a wee dite preachy.  The Girl With All the Gifts seems to be the novelization of the movie that stemmed from a short story.  I really liked the movie and am inclined to re-watch it, now that I've read the book.

Next up: back to the library to keep working my way through Discworld.

Titles Nine - #10 -- Utah edition

It's another fascinating installment of the FMS series, "Titles Nine," whereby I go to my many bookshelves and pick out nine volumes to share with you, my faithful reader[s].  In our explorations of Utah since we've moved out here (and the two vacation trips), we've relied on a number of sources of information: word of mouth, newspaper articles and, mostly, guidebooks. Here's what our Utah-centric library looks like right now:

• The Historical Guide to Utah Ghost Towns by Stephen L. Carr
• Insider's Guide to Salt Lake City (4th edition, but a treasure trove of information regardless)
• Frommer's Utah (a going-away present from a dear coworker)
• Moon Handbooks - Utah (found in a used bookstore and not that helpful because it's old)
• 60 Hikes Within 60 Miles - Salt Lake City by Greg Witt (we've done so many of these that we're wishing there was a volume 2, 60 More Hikes Within 60 Miles)
• Hiking the Wasatch by John Veranth (not quite as detailed as 60 Hikes)
• Roadside History of Utah by Cynthia Larsen Bennett
• Best Easy Day Hikes: Canyonlands and Arches by Bill Schneider (2nd ed., a Falcon Guide booklet
• and two Pocket Naturalist pamphlets, Utah Trees and Wildflowers; and Utah Birds

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

I am so lame

It's not like I don't have stuff going on: I'm reading two books simultaneously, have S2E1 and 2 of True Blood sitting on my coffee table and recorded the AMC version of They Live on the DVR.  I promise

I PROMISE

I'll get a True Blood recap up tomorrow.  Might be late in the day, but I'll do it.

Vacation summation

Hi, all. We just got back from a well-needed vacation (poor Mr. Mouse hadn't had a week off for a year1) and are now making our way through the mountains of laundry that need to be done. We had decent weather, dry enough that Mr. Mouse was able to get his 25-80 mile bike ride in nearly every day; I, being not so much with the bicycling, read ten books. Since you're about to be inundated with book reviews, therefore, here's how it broke down.

• 11 library books and 1 loaner
• 9 read cover-to-cover and the loaner book finished up
• of the read books: 2 British murder mysteries, 2 medical thrillers, 2 modern novels, 3 fantasy novels (1 classic, 2 modern) and 1 novel set in pioneer Missouri
• of the unread books: 1 nigh-imprenetrable fantasy novel and 1 "jolly romp" of a 1960s English novel
• 4 male authors, 8 female
• and we made it to the brew pub every day.

V is for Vacation Mouse

"So, Friend Mouse," you say, "just where were you that you couldn't possibly get last week's Heroes and Lost recaps up on time*?" Well, I'll tell you: I went on a family vacation to a tiny, unspoiled, gorgeous Caribbean island. And by "tiny" I mean "has only 1.5 towns and two grocery stores," by "unspoiled" I mean "there are no golf courses and the dogs, roosters and horses roam freely in the streets of the 1.5 towns," by "gorgeous" I mean "gorgeous" and by "Caribbean" I mean "you take a regular-sized plane to Puerto Rico and then you take the smallest plane you've ever been on to another island."

So let me tell you how my week broke down.

Books. I read five books: The Alienist by Caleb Carr (which I'd read before but just love-love-love so I read it again); Q is for Quarry by Sue Grafton; The Brethren by John Grisham (pretty light-weight even for a Grisham book, frankly); Welcome to the World, Baby Girl by Fannie Flagg; and Sleepers by Lorenzo Carcaterra (now I have got to see the movie again - what a story).

Bug Bites. Between the mosquitos and the sand fleas I lost count at 50+. But after I commandeered the mosquito bed net from the Mouse parents (and they weren't getting mosquito-bit, so don't get all elder-abuse on me - jeesh), and stopped walking on the neighborhood beach at dusk, I was new-bite-free for the remainder of the trip. Good news: the island mosquitos don't itch. Bad news: the sand fleas do.

Booze. We put away a case of beer (Medalia Medalla Light, yo!) and a bottle of rum a day, plus an additional six bottles of wine and a pitcher of sangria. Not bad consumption for the six of us, although one adult would only take a sip of beer and then hand off the can to someone else, and the 2 1/2 year old had hardly any at all.

Beaches. There is absolutely nothing to do on this island except go to the beach and snorkel, go to the beach and read or go to the beach and swim in the turquoise waters. La Lanchita was the local beach for Sunday; Caracas and Playuela on Monday; Sombe, Media Luna and Navio Tuesday; Blue Beach and Playa Plata on Wednesday; Green (great shelling) and Mosquito Pier (good snorkeling) on Thursday; and back to Caracas on Friday.

I am not joking - this was a definite stress-detoxification vacation. I mean, this place is mellow. The locals are friendly but interested in doing their own things; the ex-patriate population is in the 50-70 year age range; there is one t-shirt shop. It was fantastic - so much so that some in our group are seriously considering buying some property there.

But no, I'm not going to come out and tell you what island it was: in the event that real estate does get bought, I want to be able to mooch off my relatives without having this little paradise spoiled if the unwashed masses have discovered it. (If you really, really want to know, send me an email and I'll reply with links and everything).

And to the taxi driver who told us that alcapurrias were so delicious ... you were right. Thank you!

* You will note, however, that I busted my tail and got completely caught up before this week's Heroes ep. So, kudos to me.

Desert oases

The mouse is back in the house, y'all! Thanks eversomuch for your patience: Mr. Mouse and I just had to get away for a bit. And what's the exact opposite of the humid Maine coastline? The arid Utah desert ... so that's where we went. Temperatures were higher than normal (mid-90s to low-100s in the deserts and the valleys; high 70s to mid-80s in the mountains) but since the humdity was around the 18% range, it truly wasn't that bad. I mean, 100+ is definitely hot but any sweat evaporates immediately, keeping you cool(-ish) and dry. Dehydration is an issue at those temperatures but we were careful and I think I drank more water than I ever have in my life. I also drank a really lot of beer, and have some new places to tell you about!



Moab Brewery, Moab, Utah. Moab is a small mellow town in the southeast of the state. It's full of outdoors outfitters as it's a jumping-off place for mountain-biking, hiking, rafting, OHVing (off-highway vehicles, a/k/a ATVs, dirt bikes and 4x4s), etc. We hiked in Arches National Park and along the Slickrock mountain bike trail, and took our rental Ford Fusion off-road in the La Sal National Forest ... ultimately getting lost and finding ourselves in the John Brown Canyon in Gateway, Colorado. Since Moab is a tourist-destination there are a ton of restaurants and bars, including the Moab Brewery which we went to twice. Mr. Mouse liked the Scorpion Pale Ale (not too hoppy); I tried the Deadhorse Ale (a traditional English mild ale) and the Derailleur Ale (amber). I do wish I'd tried the stout as it looked excellent, but it was just too damn hot outside to consider. The food is pretty good too: a typical brewpub menu with strong Tex-Mex tendencies.



Porcupine Pub & Grille, Salt Lake City. After hiking at the Albion campground above the Alta ski resort - up to a gorgeous little mountain lake surrounded by incredible wildflowers - we were exceedingly parched and had to stop at the Porcupine to recover. While not in fact a brewpub, they have 24 beers on tap and specialize in Utah's local suds, featuring brews from Moab, Squatter's, Red Rock, Rooster's, Wasatch, Park City and Uinta breweries. I had more Deadhorse ale (Moab) while Mr. Mouse quaffed some Uinta Cutthroat Pale Ale; we weren't terribly hungry but did try a cup of gazpacho and a bowl of chorizo and black bean soup, both of which were quite good but less spicy than we had hoped. The Porcupine is a great space, located at the mouth of Big Cottonwood Canyon (the road to Brighton and Solitude ski areas) and well-attended by both locals and tourists.

Desert Edge Brewery at the Pub, Salt Lake City. Located in funky Trolley Square, the upscale shopping center and national historical register site, this brewpub/restaurant has exceedingly uncomfortable barstools (designed so that you don't linger too too long, I presume) but good beer and food. We had fresh and tasty burritos and washed them down with pale and amber ales, respectively. The barstaff's t-shirts read "3.2 and proud of it" which is a reference to the low alcohol content of Utah beers; for those of us visiting from out of town, 3.2 means you can drink more before the buzz kicks in - which is not necessarily a bad thing when you're sipping tasty micros.

Note: the last picture is "Owachomo," the oldest bridge at Natural Bridges National Monument. Check out that blue sky.

Where the Wild Things Were

Mr. Mouse and I spent this past Memorial Day weekend at a wedding on Massachusetts’s Cape Ann. The wedding itself took place on Good Harbor Beach in Rockport; the reception was in Gloucester-proper, overlooking a stunning view of the harbor. Since it was a Sunday afternoon wedding, we had plenty of time Saturday and early Sunday to explore the area, which was nice since I don’t recall ever spending much time on the North Shore (despite living and working for three years in Boston in my mid-20s).

Gloucester is still very much a working town (three times we drove by the Crow’s Nest of The Perfect Storm fame notoriety, trying to work up the nerve to go in for a beer – never happened) but the surrounding beaches are great although with limited parking for most of them. We did find a very local and very friendly place for beer and lunch: the Rhumb Line.

Salem and Marblehead are much more visitor-oriented. Mr. Mouse and I spent a good deal of time walking around both of these towns. We opted not to visit the witch museums in Salem but did find time for a couple of beers (of course) at Salem Beer Works. Marblehead was my favorite: while the truly spectacular mansions rise above the ocean out on Marblehead Neck, I loved the jumble of lovely old (as in mid-1700s old) homes on the mainland.

The real excitement of the weekend, however, was back at our hotel as it was completely overrun by the Northeast Unschooling Conference … or as Mr. Mouse more aptly put it, the Society of Feral Children. These “unschoolers” are families who choose to home-school their children; a bumper sticker in the parking lot read, “Grades are for meat and eggs, not children.”

Evidently discipline is not for children either. They were everywhere: screaming and running barefoot through the corridors and hotel lobby; swarming the pool (which another hotel guest swore had turned yellow –eeeuuuuwww!); playing in the elevators. We watched several little girls being fed their dinner in the bar at 10:30 p.m.; one of them actually fell asleep with her face in her chicken fingers.

The hotel staff were saints, to say the least. The front desk manager repeatedly asked the children to stop running through the lobby – to no avail. The hotel corridors were filled with trays as room service valiantly attempted to keep up with demands for dessert five minutes before the kitchen was to close. The bartender had to ask a child not to lie on the floor in front of the doors into the hotel kitchen. Best (or worst) of all was when one of these children BIT a waitress and, at the young woman’s complaint, the parent just said, “Oh, he does that all the time.” Nice.

Hopefully these unschooled folks were not representative of the greater home-schooling community, because I really can’t see that these parents were doing their children any favors. Sure, encouraging creativity is great. But these kids seemed under-socialized, undisciplined and completely ill equipped to exist in a world other than their own home. I don’t know - it was all pretty much appalling but at least we got a story out of it.

Northern Utah Brew Tour

As an East Coast microbrew drinker and confirmed beer snob, I was understandably concerned before my recent trip to northern Utah; the Beehive State is well-known for its arcane alcohol laws, as influenced by the omnipresent Church of Latter Day Saints. I needn’t have worried. The greater Salt Lake City area runs foamy with tasty brews.

The Red Rock Brewing Company, at 254 South 200 West, in Salt Lake City, was our introduction to Utah brewpubs. Since it was cold and rainy that day, I started with the Oatmeal Stout, mild and more porter-like than stout, and then had a mellow Nut-Brown Ale with my lunch, the spinach, bacon and too rich Gruyere cheese pizza special. Mr. Mouse first had a pint of the inoffensive Amber Ale and then moved on to the much superior IPA Junior, so called because it has less alcohol than a non-Utahan IPA. He also had a pizza (pepperoni) and we both agreed that the pizza crusts could have been thinner and crispier.

I think my favorite brewpub of the trip had to be Squatter’s Pub Brewery, on 147 West Broadway in Salt Lake City, just around the corner from the Red Rock. On our first visit, stopping for beer-consumption only, I had the Emigration Amber Ale, which was nice and not too hoppy, while Mr. Mouse tried their Full Suspension Pale Ale. This is an excellent pale ale, extremely drinkable. The second visit to Squatter’s was a few days later on our last night in Utah, and we decided to eat as well as imbibe. The Chasing Tail Golden ale, darker than most golden ales and with plenty of hops, went very nicely with my chile-rubbed ahi tacos (served with chile verde, pureed black beans and innocuous yellow rice). Mr. Mouse had the jambalaya, to which he added some of my chile verde for a needed extra kick, and washed it down with more pale ale. I wish I hadn’t been too full to try the Captain Bastard’s Oatmeal Stout which looked delicious and was recommended by the local guy sitting next to us.

Roosters Brewing Company and Eatery, on historic 25th Street in Ogden, was the third stop on our northern Utah brew tour. We ordered the Polygamy Pale Ale, which was too hoppy for Mr. Mouse’s taste, and the Two-Bit Amber, which is a fine if unremarkable, red ale. We both went with the specials for dinner: the chicken chimichangas which had a lot of flavorful shredded chicken wrapped in crispy flour tortilla packages, and the chicken cordon bleu, also reported as very tasty.

The Wasatch Brew Pub and Eatery in swanky Park City is partnered with Squatter’s as the Utah Brewer’s Cooperative and, as such, shares an offsite brewery and bottling facility. I had the seasonal pumpkin ale, which was strongly but not overwhelmingly spiced, accompanied by the fish tacos with beer-battered cod, shredded cabbage, tomatoes and pico de gallo. Mr. Mouse went with the Evolution Amber Ale and the chipotle chicken enchiladas, which could have been a little hotter chile-wise.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the two excellent saloons that we also found: the Shooting Star and the No Name. Utah's oldest continually operated saloon (built in 1879), the Shooting Star in Huntsville, is packed to the ceiling with antiques, knickknacks, old photographs and a stuffed and mounted St. Bernard’s head; the 72-year old proprietress was on-site and very friendly. The taps pour only Budweiser, Bud Light and Coors, but there is an impressive selection of bottled beer, including the very good local Cutthroat Ale. The No Name Saloon, on historic Main Street in Park City, is similarly filled with old stuff and the antique building itself is incredible with high ceilings, vaulted brick ovens and a gorgeous wooden bar. We managed to grab one seat at the crowded bar – when its former occupant got up to play on the indoor shuffleboard court - and each had a Cutthroat Ale, this time on tap.

Greater Salt Lake City’s microbreweries produce outstanding beers, far better than might be expected. With only four of Utah’s twelve brewpubs visited during my trip, I have reason to return to see if the rest of the state’s suds are equally as enjoyable.

How the West Was Won(derful)

After a nearly two hour departure delay, and then an additional delay getting out of Chicago, we finally touched down in Salt Lake City around 12:30 a.m. on Saturday. We picked up our rental car – no wimpy Suzuki this time – Mustang, baby! – we checked into the posh (not) Airport Hotel Inn for a few hours of sleep. We got our free breakfast (bacon, eggs, hash browns and toast) and hit the road. The rainy, foggy, cold, 40-degree road. Unbelievable weather this day. The mountains, when we could glimpse them through the fog, were covered in snow. We had the heat and defrost on in the Mustang pretty much all day as we toured SLC and its various neighborhoods, reveling in the easily-navigable gridded streets.

Before we’d left on our trip, we’d seen an ad for the PBR’s next-to-last regular season event … in SLC! So we stopped by the E Center and managed to get tickets for that night’s final. (I love the PBR: the cowboys are wicked cute and also completely insane to do what they do for a living.) We also grabbed a hotel room right next to the arena in scenic West Valley City so we wouldn’t have far to go after the event. After a late lunch at the Red Rock Brewing Company (in downtown SLC) and an after lunch additional beer at Squatter’s (the Salt Lake Brewing Company, just around the corner from the Red Rock), we watched Aussie Brendon Clark out-ride the biggest names in the PBR (Justin McBride, Mike Lee, JW Hart, Guillermo Marchi, Adriano Moraes, et al.) on the rankest bulls. We stopped by The Puck, A Bar, for a post-PBR beverage (not PBR, thank you very much). TPAB is one of SLC’s private clubs for members only; folks like us can still drink there by buying a temporary (3-week/$4) membership. Utah’s alcohol laws are a little strange but not insurmountable.

Sunday dawned clear (yay!) and cold (frost on the Mustang). We consulted the handy Insider’s Guide to Salt Lake City and found a most excellent place for breakfast, Ruth’s Diner in Emigration Canyon: huevos rancheros, great coffee and gigantic homemade biscuits. Fantastic! After gorging ourselves, we made a beeline for the Bonneville Salt Flats, an amazing otherworldly place, and while there, we discovered that the Mustang can easily do 110+ mph (don’t tell Budget). We stopped along the shore of the Great Salt Lake on the way back to check out the State Marina and the Saltair, the remains of a lakeside resort. We then headed east, up a canyon, to Huntsville, home of the most excellent Shooting Star Saloon (complete with a stuffed St. Bernard head) and snowy Snowbasin ski resort - both locations adorned with Sugarloaf stickers! We got a motel room in Ogden and had dinner at Rooster’s Brew Co. & Eatery on Historic 25th Street.

After continuing our breakfast streak at the No Frills Diner (I had sausage gravy and biscuits – mmmmmm), we went to Antelope Island, the state park in the middle of the Great Salt Lake. Antelope Island is 26,000 acres, well-mountained and full of bison, pronghorn antelope, bighorn sheep and coyotes. (The coyotes look quite well-fed: there are also many wild rabbits, apparently.) We spent several hours on the Island, including a fair amount of time at the Garr Ranch, the oldest ranch in the state and probably the one with the most gorgeous view of the Wasatch Mountains, glistening white across the Lake. Our next stop was Park City, as glitzy and over the top as Snowbasin was mellow. We toured the Olympic Center where the freestyle aerials, bobsled/luge and ski jumping events took place in the ’02 Winter Games, then we car-toured the three area ski resorts: the Canyons, Deer Valley and Park City Resort. These places are huge and decadent, piled high with glamorous condos. The trails look pretty dang impressive too. We strolled up and down historic Main Street in Park City, stopping to admire the Town Lift – from sidewalk to slope, no waiting! – and then stopping for a beer at the outstanding No Name Saloon. Dinner was at the Wasatch Brewpub. Pumpkin ale is in season!

Tuesday morning was warm and sunny, so we headed to Provo (meh) where we found the best bacon (and also some eggs) at the very local Nate’s Diner. It was rather apparent that we were not locals; at least the food was warm if the other patrons’ glances were not. With full bellies, we delved into the Uinta National Forest, taking a 35-mile scenic drive alongside the impressive and snowy Mt. Nebo, complete with views of a recent forest fire, a mini-Bryce Canyon, plenty of road cows and Lake Utah. After a little misdirection, we found the road into Little Cottonwood Canyon and our route to Alta and Snowbird. Mr. Mouse was thrilled to learn that Alta had gotten 20 inches of snow on the day we arrived in Utah; we could see that folks had been hiking up and skiing down, tracks crisscrossing the trails. I really liked the laid-back vibe at Alta and Snowbird (as well as at Snowbasin). These places really seem like people come here to SKI, not shop or party or be part of the scene like the Park City resorts. Later, since this was our last night in SLC, we splurged a little and stayed at the old-fashioned and fairly luxurious Little America Hotel in downtown. And, since there was no reason to break our streak of brewpubs, we walked back to Squatter’s, this time to eat (jambalaya for Mr. Mouse and fish tacos with chile verde for me) as well as to enjoy their brews.

We discovered our final Utah diner in the Cheap Eats section of a city magazine – The Other Place, where I had amazing scrambled eggs with feta cheese, tomatoes and onions – then finally walked all through Temple Square, admiring the Temple, the Tabernacle, the Beehive House and the statue honoring the Utah state bird, the seagull. Yeah, you heard me: the seagull. I come from Maine, where gulls are sneaky, mean, disgusting garbage-eaters. In Utah, however, they are revered for having devoured a plague of crickets that was about to decimate the Mormons’ crops. There’s a golden statue in Temple Square and everything. I have no words.

After exploring the Square, we were out of time. We brought the Mustang back to the rental place; we waited while our plane was delayed some hours out of SLC, and then more hours out of Chicago; we got home and fell into bed around 2:30 a.m. And that was our not-too wild, wild Western trip. Utah is very cool. I can’t wait to go back – there’s a lot more to see.

Normal Service Will Resume Shortly

Friend Mouse, where have you been? And were there no televisions there? Well, I went to Utah with Mr. Mouse for a few days and while there are televisions in the Beehive State, the shows are all on a lot earlier than I’m used to, plus we were too busy to watch TV. But we’re back now, and I have a backlog of 15 recorded shows* on my DVR. Sigh. No rest for the wicked (or the weary, I forget which). Trip recap tomorrow, I promise, and Heroes soon after that.

Thanks for your patience. While you're waiting for me to get on with it, who can tell me why Utah is called "the Beehive State?" I know (now) - do you?

* Several of those are Jeopardy episodes. Mr. Mouse likes to record them because then it only takes us twenty minutes as we fast-forward through the Daily Double wagering.

Midwestern Mouse

No matter how much you like your job, being on vacation is always better (apologies to my boss if she’s reading this). That being said, the Mouses don’t usually go to glamorous beach-and-sand places where the drinks come with little umbrellas. Where do we go? Well, most recently, we went to the Midwest, specifically Minnesota and Wisconsin . Did it rain? Yes. Were there mosquitoes? Yes. Was there frost on the car in the morning? Yes. Gosh, it’s an awful lot like Maine! We went because my aunt and uncle, Terry (she of the Italian beef recipe fame) and Kenny, live on a 200-acre farm not far from the upper Mississippi near the Wisconsin border. The last time I had been there was 26 years ago at Christmas; it’s much nicer to go in September when you can fish and bike and drink beer and float on the rivers.

After arriving in Minneapolis and picking up our fabulous Suzuki Grand Vitara rental car (the motor sounded like a moped when we’d go uphill), we stopped briefly in Hastings, MN, the first town on the Great River, just so we could see the Mississippi and get a feel for what was in store. We had lunch in Red Wing (famous for this as well) at the Staghead and then climbed Barn Bluff for great views of the river and town. Continuing south along the river, we passed through Lake City, Wabasha (setting for the Grumpy Old Men movies) and Kellogg (we were too late for the reputedly amazing LARK toy store and museum). We ended up in Winona for the night where there’s not too much going on even with the college in town, but we found Bub’s (pronounced “Boobs” – hee hee), a great place for a beer. Dinner (meh) was at Jefferson’s, an old train depot.

Since we had planned to get to the farm a little after noon on Sunday, we drove a loop away from the Mississippi through Stockton (ravaged by the August 18th flood), Rochester (home of the Mayo Clinic) and Lanesboro. Lanesboro is tiny and adorable and appears to subsist entirely on tourism: you can ride bicycles on the converted rails-to-trails and you can paddle/tube the Root River. You can also have handmade brats with grainy mustard, sauerkraut, spaetzle and home-brewed root beer at Das Wurst Haus, all served to live accordion music. After that brief lunch, we made our way to the farm where we settled into the Granary (which they’ve converted into outstanding guest quarters) and then drove to the boathouse on the Mississippi. We took a tour of the river’s backwaters (ducks, geese, egrets, white pelicans, cormorants) on their pontoon boat; Kenny is an avid sportsman and conservationist, and has a wealth of knowledge about this area. Dinner was sauerkraut and Canadian bacon pizza at Happy Joe’s – way better than it sounds, I promise - and Fat Squirrel beer, bottled by the New Glaurus brewery. That night, tucked into bed in the Granary, we fell asleep to the coyotes singing in the fields.

On Monday it rained and rained, so Terry and Ken took us on a driving tour of the area. The flood and mudslide damage from the “big rain” was just unbelievable on both sides of the Mississippi: railroad tracks knocked off the ties, roads and bridges buckled, whole houses swept off their foundations. After checking out the rain-drenched view from Great River Bluff State Park, we had Chicago-style hotdogs for lunch, picked up Hmong egg rolls for dinner and stopped in for ice cream (I tasted the cult flavor Blue Moon but went with something chocolaty and caramel-y instead). The rain let up enough for us to take a walk with the dogs on the farm’s tractor road, edging around the recent washouts, and then it was a tasty stir-fry and those egg rolls for dinner.

The next day was sunny and clear, with wind gusts up to 35 mph. Ken and Mr. Mouse attempted some fishing anyhow; the fish were deemed “sparse” upon their return. We four then went over the river to Wisconsin for a 22-mile round trip bicycle ride on the Great River State Trail from Midway to Trempealeau and back again, taking a break at the hotel in Trempealeau for Fat Squirrel beers and sandwiches we’d packed. Mr. Mouse had to buy the first round of beers: Ken bet him that Terry would be able to talk non-stop for the whole 11-mile ride. The return trip was much quicker as the wind gusts were at our backs, but I was still wishing for padded bike shorts by the time we were done. Dinner was a fish fry: crappie and bluegill filets, none caught that morning.

Wednesday was also sunny and clear, but not windy and thus deemed perfect for floating on the Root River from Lanesboro to Whalan. Terry and Ken have the coolest little one-person float-boats (also these) I’ve ever seen: a metal frame with a backed seat, mounted on two pontoons and steered with two oars. So very fun. The river was a lot higher than normal, due to all the recent rain, so it was hardly necessary to row; this trip usually takes five or so hours but we did it in under four. The boys fished off and on, while Terry read in the calm stretches and I just bobbed around, admiring the scenery. After putting the gear away, the boys and I headed to the Mississippi for some pre-dinner fishing and then we all had dinner together (with lefse!) at the boathouse.

We left Terry and Ken’s farm the next morning for some exploration on our own, heading across the river to WI. During breakfast at a diner in Stoddard, we saw an ad for the Vernon County Fair in Viroqua, so off we went for a couple of hours. After continuing south on the Great River Road to Prairie du Chien, we took scenic 60 East along the Wisconsin River, passing through Spring Green and Sauk City, before arriving in Madison. We had burgers and beer at the Great Dane Brewing Company (Mr. Mouse’s burger had one beef patty and one bratwurst patty and was served on a pretzel dough roll). We then had postprandial beers at a great bar, the Old Fashioned Tavern, located at the feet of the beautiful capitol building.

Friday was our last full day. We had breakfast at Monty’s Blue Plate Diner in a funky Madison neighborhood, and then explored the University’s campus a bit. The school is huge, but quite pretty, located on the shores of Lake Mendota. We headed out of town along the lake shore and then hightailed it via the interstate back to the Mississippi River, where we continued on the Great River Road, but this time going north. We passed through Alma, Pepin and lovely little Stockholm, finally crossing the river one last time at Prescott. After checking into our hotel (located right next to the behemoth Mall of America), we drove into Minneapolis since we had gotten tickets to the Twins game that night. We got a great parking spot and then stopped for pre-game beers at Dan Kelly’s Irish pub (and watched the first inning of the Red Sox v. Yankees game) and Hubert’s sports bar (across the street from the Metrodome; second inning of the Yankees game). Although the Twins lost to the Tigers 4-2, we got to eat brats and drink Summit ESB, and Mr. Mouse scored a blaze-orange Twins baseball hat for me, offering the girl sitting next to us $5 for it. We left a little before the game was over and quickly made it back to our hotel for a nightcap in the bar (and the 8th and 9th innings of the Yankee game).

That was it. We had to get up EARLY the next morning to scrape the frost off our car before turning it into Budget where they had misread the starting mileage and thought we’d put 5,000 miles on it (it was more like 900). It was an easy trip home again and now we’re slogging through the laundry and battling post-vacation depression. It was a great trip. And I can guaran-goddamn-tee you that it won’t take another 26 years before we go back.

The Drought Is Over

I know, that's not particularly funny given the horrendous torrents of rain the Midwest has been getting. But I was referring to the fact that I'M BACK!, and not being glib about meteorological disasters.

I am back, and posting again - thanks to all who visited while I was away. I only managed to read six books this week (a new all-time record low), although said books did total 3,147 pages. The book reviews will be forthcoming shortly, just as soon as I clear a path through the acres of laundry that needs doing.

In the meantime, thanks for stopping by and come again soon. And go see Superbad - I can't wait to see it!

What I [hope to] read on my summer vacation – by FM

It’s that time of year again: before summer's end, the Mice will be heading to the lake for a week of fishing, beer-drinking, sunning and reading on the dock. I haven’t had a full week’s vacation since last August: I am in desperate need of a break. As I’ve done every lake-week for the last five or so years, I’ve collected a stack of books from the library and from hoarding any recent purchases. Mr. Mouse usually gets through 1-2 books during vacation; my current record is 17. [To clarify: (a) he is a lot more active than I tend to be on vacation and (b) I read really quickly.] Here is this year’s list: 18. I’ll reconvene after we get back and report on how many I actually got through.

• The Woman In White, Wilkie Collins (1860). This one scarcely counts as I only have 200 pages to go.
• Guards! Guards!, Terry Pratchett (1989). From my friend Kevin C. It’s about dragons – I love dragons.
• Gates of Fire, Steven Pressfield (1998). Since I’ve already read about the Battle of Thermopylae in the original Greek and in Frank Miller’s graphic novel (not to mention seeing 300), this should give me the last point of view I need.
• Eats, Shoots & Leaves, Lynne Truss (2003). About punctuation. Right on!
• Portrait in Sepia, Isabel Allende (2001). Translated from the Spanish, this one was a gift from my mom.
• A Good Dog, Jon Katz (2006). It’s about dogs. Impulse buy (3 for 2 table) at Borders.
• The Summer of My Greek Taverna, Tom Stone (2002). $4 table at Borders.
• Long Ago in France, M.F.K. Fisher (1991). Ditto $4 table.
• The Best American Short Stories – 2003. Ditto $4 table. I don’t read many short stories so I figured this would be good for me.
• The Children of Hurin, J.R.R. Tolkien (2007). Finished posthumously by Tolkien’s son. How could I not?
• Mike and Psmith (1909) and Enter Psmith (1935), P.G. Wodehouse. I read a mention of the Psmith books a while ago which said they were very funny. I’m a sucker for British murder mysteries of this era so I thought I’d branch out.
• Blandings Castle, P.G. Wodehouse (1935). Six short stories.
• Tales of H.P. Lovecraft (collection, 2005). I’ve never read any Lovecraft: the book jacket calls him “the 20th century successor to Poe as the master of ‘weird fiction'.” I like weird.
• The Sparrow, Mary Doria Russell (1996). This book was mentioned on this blog (which I think is very funny and a great source of information). That’s all I know.
• Archer At Large, Ross MacDonald (omnibus, 1970). Three Lew Archer novels.
• Quicksilver, Neal Stephenson (2003). Other than TWiW and the Archer omnibus, this is the only really big book I’ve got this time: 916 pp. As I mentioned, I read quickly so big is good. Plus it’s the start of a series so I hope I like it.
• Cell, Stephen King (2006). This one I’ve read before once so it’s my emergency book in the event I get through all the others.

108 Hours in Maine

Gosh, I'm really sorry it's been so long since my last post - my in-laws were in town for a long weekend and all the entertaining completely precluded any Mouseblogging. I feel badly about leaving my giant fanbase (that sounds better than just saying "fan") in the lurch. Tomorrow night: the Deadwood S1E12 recap, I promise! And I just picked up the BtVS S8E5 comic as well as Bill Willingham's Fables: Legends in Exile and Fables: Animal Farm, so I should have plenty to write about in the next few days.

What We Did On the Mouse-In-Laws' Summer Vacation: Thursday night dinner on the patio at the Foreside Tavern which was lovely until the mosquitos got hungry at sundown [Geary's Summer Ale on tap]. Friday, as Mr. Mouse went to work (ha ha!), the in-laws, Becky and I walked around Back Cove [3.5 mile scenic walking/jogging loop] and then stopped for coffee.

Saturday was Mr. Mouse's big race: 53 minutes in the Beach To Beacon 10K - which was wicked impressive, given his 9-week mid-training lapse. After a quick run home to shower and resupply, we made the 2:15 p.m. mailboat run. This is one of our favorite things to do, with or without out-of-town houseguests: a 3-hour ride on the ferry with potential stops at six Casco Bay islands to deliver passengers and freight; we fill a cooler with beer, sit in the bow of the boat and soak in all the cool coastal breezes. This trip, the highlights were (1) two portopotties being delivered to Long Island and (2) island kids flinging themselves off the top of the dock shack into the ocean at Cliff Island. [The FM photo was taken front of Cow Island, next to Great Diamond Island.]

Sunday we actually had glorious weather: clear, mid-70s and sunny. We rented a pontoon boat on Brandy Pond in Naples for 4 hours - superfantastic! fishing, swimming, picnicking - and then stopped at Bray's Brewpub on our way home. By Monday us younger folks had to go back to work, but Mr. Mouse had breakfast with his folks at Becky's and we all met up for dinner at Shay's [$4 house specialty pineapple martinis - yummy!]. My in-laws departed Tuesday morning, phoning in later in the day from the Long Trail Brewery in Bridgewater Corners, Vermont ... so clearly they weren't leaving the party just because they had to leave us, and I think that's just outstanding.

Bar Harbor, Maine

One of these days I'm actually going to take an actual vacation. You know, four+ days off from work in a row. But until I do, I am going to enjoy my weekends - like this last one: a girls' weekend in Bar Harbor [the cast of characters: me, my mom, my sister-in-law and a family friend]. My brother and sister-in-law had a baby last August, and my sister-in-law had been craving some non-diaper time. Since three of the four of us live in Maine, and the true tourist season has not yet descended upon our state, we thought a weekend in Bar Harbor would be just right. As soon as our friend drove up from Connecticut, we loaded my car with many bottles of wine and headed north on Route 1 Friday afternoon. The forecast was for low 60s and raining - typical Maine weather in June - but we saw nary a cloud all weekend and the mosquitos weren't bad either (another early summer in Maine concern!) so the gods clearly were smiling on us.

We stayed at the Aurora Inn, a little motel just ten minutes' walk from the center of downvillage Bar Harbor; the bathroom was teeny, but the room had plenty of space for the four of us, a mini-fridge and coffeemaker, and a porch with plenty of benches on which to enjoy before-dinner drinks. After checking in, we wandered into town and strolled the Shore Path before seating ourselves at the Lompoc Cafe. I had a locally brewed Coal Porter and my mom tried the seasonal Island Ginger summer ale; my thin and crispy pizza was laden with locally made goat cheese with red peppers, tomatoes, red onion and mozzarella; elsewhere on our table was a tasty poblano and corn chowder. Since we were on holiday, we shared a creme brulee which turned out to be the weakest part of the meal: it was warm all the way through, not cool on the bottom. We managed to get it all down even so.

On Saturday we breakfasted at a nearby diner, Jordan's: wild Maine blueberry pancakes, blueberry muffins, bacon and eggs, and a fantastic, funny waitress. Thus fortified, we packed a little picnic and our maps, and headed off to explore Acadia National Park. Acadia is just stunning and we were, as I mentioned, fortunate enough to be ahead of the tourists, so we had it to ourselves more often than not. We hiked the Great Head Loop, then walked along the shore to Thunder Hole. After coming out of the park to explore the exquisite Asticou Azalea Gardens (in Northeast Harbor), we nibbled our picnic lunch and did a 3.9 mile loop (along the Hadlock ponds) on the Carriage Roads. We were then running a little short on time so we drove (I know, I know) to the summit of Cadillac Mountain where the 360-degree views were simply amazing. After our descent, we paused for strawberries and wine on our motel's porch, then supped at the Thirsty Whale Tavern (chunk-meat-only lobster rolls and clam chowder for all) while the filly won the Belmont. Girl power! We felt that all the walking we'd done justified a little ice cream and a little shopping, and then we toddled back to our room for a little more wine before bed.

Sunday morning, after a blueberry turnover and a big old coffee and slightly more shopping, we packed up the car and headed home. By "heading home" I mean taking the long way and exploring the "quiet side" of Mount Desert Island, including driving through Southwest Harbor, walking to the Wonder Land beach, checking out the Bass Harbor Head Lighthouse and pausing for a doe to stroll across the road in Pretty Marsh.

It was well into the afternoon at this point, so - reluctantly, because it was such a beautiful day - we cruised back down Route 1, stopping outside of Belfast to pick up some homemade blueberry pie for my friend to bring back to Connecticut with her. I finally arrived back home to both a laconic (husband) and frantic (dog) welcome, a little bit sunburned and a lotta bit happy with my weekend.

Springtime in Boston

You may have noticed that my Lost recap went up a few days late. This is because my husband and I took his parents to Boston for two days. We’d taken his folks to NYC for his father’s 65^th birthday; this trip was for his mom’s 65^th, and I got to be tour guide this time since I used to live in Boston. We had pretty terrible weather – high 40s and raining, low 50s and raining, low 50s and not raining – but we managed to pack a fair amount into our two days.

Since you really don’t need a car in Boston (and parking is neither readily available nor affordable!), we took full advantage of public transportation: the bus from Maine, and multi-day unlimited T-passes. I found a great little guesthouse in Back Bay (on pretty, residential Beacon Street, just blocks from the Hynes T-stop … and one block away from the Crossroads Irish pub – where we ended up no less than three times. Sure do love me some Guinness.).

The first order of business was the Duck Tour. We had a fantastic guide - stage name of “Ace Bandage” - who was funny (but not over the top), well-spoken and full of information. The tour is a great way to see the whole of the city before you go off exploring on your own. After the duck, we took the Red Line to Cambridge for lunch at John Harvard’s Brew House in Harvard Square; I was disappointed that they were out of porter but made do with a yummy red ale instead. A stroll through Harvard showed not much action on-campus, so we headed back to Charles Street and prowled around Beacon Hill for a while. It is amazing how quiet that neighborhood is, even being in the heart of the city. We took Newbury Street via the Public Garden back to check in and rest our feet briefly, then jumped on the T to Government Center. We saw the Holocaust Memorial, peeked in the windows of the Union Square Oyster House, and made our way to the North End.

My favorite place in the North End is Dairy Fresh Candies at the start of Salem Street: in my three years living in Boston, this candy store is the only place I was ever recognized as a regular. They carry imported and domestic chocolates, candies and nuts of all kinds, fresh fudge and roasted nuts, pasta, sauces and cakes. I managed to get out of there after spending only $36.00 (my usual is closer to $50, especially around Christmastime). We explored for a bit, finding North Square and the Old North Church, and took our time perusing menus before settling on a place for dinner. Our waiter, Joe, was great; the antipasto and bruschetta appetizers were quite nice; my shrimp and asparagus risotto was tasty but could have been a little creamier. As we headed out, Joe asked me if I was a football fan and pointed out Bill Belichick, head coach of the New England Patriots, dining with a girlfriend in the back dining room.

Friday was pretty much pouring rain all day, so we decided to be indoor kitties as much as possible. We grabbed bagels at a Finagle-A-Bagel (mine: chocolate chip bagel with plain cream cheese) and zipped over to the Museum of Science. Luckily for us, they had a Bank of America/MBNA promotion going on and all four of us were admitted for free – yay! We explored for a couple hours (along with about eight million field-tripping grade schoolers) and then decided that we needed more sustenance. On to another one of my favorite places: the Parish Café on Boylston Street. Each sandwich recipe on the menu has been contributed by a local celebrity chef: I was tempted by the mussel po’boy special, but ended up with smoked ham and cheese on warm banana nut bread with peach chutney. Mmmmmmmm. The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum was our next stop – the one thing my mother-in-law really wanted to see. I had never been there before and can now wholeheartedly recommend it. Mrs. Gardner was a rich Bostonian who liked to collect art, and she designed and built this museum to house her collection. She placed the artworks in the rooms as she wished, not grouping them by any rhyme or reason, and instructed that the collections be left as she had put them. She also decreed that anyone named “Isabella” should have free admittance for life – very cool. We wished that more of the exhibits had been tagged, but were fascinated by the collection even so.

Our final stop was dinner at Tapeo on Newbury Street (another of my favorite restaurants); I was glad I’d thought to make reservations because it filled quickly, even with the dismal weather. This is a Spanish restaurant with a large tapas menu, and I knew it might be pushing the envelope of my in-laws’ food comfort zone a little. But they totally rallied and, I think, enjoyed it quite a lot. I had sangria (several glasses, actually), and we all shared a number of tapas: skewered spiced pork with dates, sole stuffed with asparagus, salmon in a dill cream sauce, empanadas, garlicky chicken, and beef tenderloin on toast with pimiento. So delicious! Also, Tapeo serves their bread basket with a little scoop of hummus instead of butter: flavorful and a bit healthier.

Since it was still raining Saturday morning, we decided to just head home; frankly, I couldn’t have stomached anything for breakfast at that point! I’m going to call our mini-trip a success: my husband enjoyed himself for the first time ever in Boston, my in-laws wore big grins the entire time, and me, I always like being back in the city for a visit.