A Weekend

Usually my older brother visits me on weekends, arriving Saturday evening about 6:00 and staying either until early Sunday afternoon or until Monday afternoon. (In summer, if he has Race Committee duty, he'll usually arrive after dinner on Friday.) At 9:00 Saturday evening, my younger brother calls from Japan, where he has lived since 1973, and we talk for about an hour.

During my major weekly shopping expedition on February 27, I had bought meat for a pot roast for Saturday dinner, and chicken thighs for Sunday. But by the time I had finished everything else I wanted to do on Saturday, February 2, and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner, I realized that there wasn't enough time to prepare, cook, and eat the pot roast before the phone call from Japan. I substituted the chicken. My brother went back to Boston Sunday afternoon, leaving me with a piece of beef which I had expected to provide dinner for two and leftovers for another meal for me. The best course seemed to be to save it for our dinner on Saturday of this weekend.

Strictly speaking, it's not weekend, but I attended the Boston Symphony concert on Thursday evening. But I blogged about it on Saturday, and that definitely was part of the weekend.

We had tickets for a concert of the Handel and Haydn Society at 3:00 p.m. on Sunday, so the plan was for my brother to go back to Boston after the 11:00 Mass on Sunday. I'd stay here and have lunch and meet him at Symphony Hall. But as the weekend arrived, there were predictions of snow and rain Sunday morning, and my brother decided to stay in Boston.

This created two complications. First, he would not be around for the pot roast this weekend, but I couldn't keep it for another week without freezing it, which I didn't want to do. So I cooked it on Saturday to provide my dinner both Saturday and Sunday. Second, I have the H+H tickets here. Usually my brother takes his ticket with him when h leaves for Boston at midday on Sunday. Since he wasn't going to be here, we had to arrange to meet in the lobby of Symphony Hall for me to give him his ticket. That meant that I couldn't decide to stay home if it was still snowing on Sunday afternoon. As it happened, the snow had turned to rain, and the roads were merely wet.

Since this was the weekend we shifted to Daylight Saving Time (Summer Time), I got less sleep than I might have on an ordinary weekend, and I was afraid that my tendency to drowse during afternoon concerts might be strong. I took a brief nap after Mass, and as it happened, the music was interesting enough that I was wide awake for the whole thing. The concert was very enjoyable.

Lunch with College Classmates and Their Wives

From time to time I've mentioned getting together with a couple of college classmates Dan and John and their wives for dinner. (E.g., here and here.) Last Saturday, we got together for lunch. Another classmate, John B, and his wife also joined us. It was part of a fairly busy day. I had told them that I'd have to leave by 3:00 so I could get home in time to attend my parish's "Mass of Remembrance" and the unrelated dinner that would follow it. Lunch was to be at 1:00 at a harbor side seafood restaurant in Boston, about 45 minutes' drive from my home. After all that was planned, a fellow parishioner asked me to meet him in the morning to tell him what the scripture scholar, who comes to our parish a couple of times a year, had said in the last lecture of a recent three lecture series. That get together lasted from 10:00 to 11:30.

John and Maureen were there when I arrived a couple of minutes before 1:00, and Dan and Carolyn arrived soon after. John B and Winnie got delayed by traffic coming up from the Cape, but were there by 20 past. I followed John's example and had a bloody mary. As usual, we talked for a while, but owing to my time constraints we had our orders in by 1:45. I decided on the fish in a bag because it had mushrooms. The bag turned out to be cellophane, and the fish was steamed in it. It was brought to the table opened. It was good, maybe not the best fish ever, but enjoyable.

The conversation was pleasant. Despite Maureen's rule of No Politics, imposed after an evening in which we got into a fairly heated argument, this time we managed to get in a few brief exchanges about the election and the President-elect. I think we all agree that Trump isn't fit for the job, and much will depend on the people he selects and listens to. There was also a lot of talk about family (John and Maureen's extended family is fairly large) and some about travel. At one point a couple of books were mentioned, and I took the opportunity to give a strong recommendation for Destiny of the Republic, by Candice Millard, about James A. Garfield. As soon as I mentioned it, John B. chimed in (see what I did there?*) with an enthusiastic second to my suggestion. He then gave me a couple of other titles — one by Millard — that he thought I'd like. Sometimes there was one conversation going on, sometimes several smaller ones.

It was a fairly pricey afternoon. We decided to split the tab equally, and Dan took charge of the check. It think in included the tax in figuring the tip, and rounded up rather generously, with the result that the tip was about 28% of the total and 37% of the pre-tax amount. Anyway, we paid $50 per person. Parking in the garage was another $29 (The garage at the subway station nearest my home charges $5.) But it was worth it: I can spend as much on a dinner alone, and this was maintaining friendships.

I had a couple of apprehensions beforehand. One is that typically the conversation can go on almost endlessly (the waitress has to come back maybe four times before people decide to order), and that would have been a problem for my getting home in time for the Mass. But they took care of that. The other is that sometimes the conversation includes long stretches of Dan and John exchanging news about classmates with whom I was not acquainted, or only barely so, That makes for a pretty boring time. But this time there was little, if any of that. So it worked out well, and I was home in good time.

* In college, John B was a member of the a cappella octet called The Chimes. I only caught the allusion after I wrote "chimed in."

Christmas (so far) and New Year's Day (with pictures)

As I mentioned in my previous post, my big brother arrived on the evening of December 23 to spend the holidays with me, returning to Boston on January 2. Then he came here for his usual weekend visit, arriving Saturday evening, January 3, and leaving after lunch today (Sunday). It's too bad I don't feel close to him. It could be fun if we were good friends. but even when he's here, we mostly keep to ourselves.

I had put the window candles in place on December 14 (a bit earlier than I usually do), and on Christmas Eve I put a quilt with a Christmas design on one door and a wreath on another one and set out a small Nativity scene. I also put the Christmas tree on the mantel in the living room. They'll probably stay until next Sunday, the Feast of the Baptism of Jesus, which is the official end of Christmastide in the Catholic Church.

The quilt.

Nativity scene.

Christmas tree. We haven't had a full sized tree since my mother died ten years ago. The expense and effort of getting one, decorating it, and then taking it down just seem too much when only the two of us are here, much as I like the way it looked.

Clicking on the pictures should enlarge them.

For Christmas, we exchanged a couple of presents, and there were gifts from our brother and s-i-l in Japan. He gave me a Red Sox wall calendar, as usual, two potholders with music-related designs, and some metal cubes to put in the freezer and use to chill drinks without diluting them. While I think my cocktails are improved by having ice melt in them (up to a point, anyway), the metal cubes could be very useful for insufficiently chilled white wine and soft drinks and maybe substitute for some of the ice in cocktails. I gave him the perennial 12 pack of beer and something or other else (if I remember, I'll tell you). From Japan came long underwear (my request) towels, cherry flavored Dijon mustard, and the book The Lost Art of Finding Our Way, by John Edward Huth. The dust jacket blurb begins, "Long before GPS, Google Earth, and global transit, humans traveled vast distances using only environmental clues and simple instruments. John Huth asks what is lost when modern technology substitutes for our innate capacity to find our way." It sounds fascinating; I'll probably make it my table reading after my current book, The Piano Shop on the Left Bank.

One of my brother's gifts from the Japanese kinfolk was the book Christendom Destroyed: Europe 1517 - 1648, by Mark Greengrass, Emeritus Professor of Early Modern History at the University of Sheffield. The dust jacket has the heading "The revolutionary emergence of a divided Europe in the shadow of Christendom's collapse," and the following blurb begins, "This latest addition to the landmark Penguin History of Europe series is a fascinating study of sixteenth- and seventeenth-century western Europe and the dramatic changes that led to the collapse of Christendom and established the geographical and political frameworks of western Europe as we know it." A few days ago he said he had started reading it, but found it too scattered, not following a strict timeline but jumping chronologically as themes and concepts are developed. So he's leaving it here. I'm looking forward to reading it for two reasons. One is that it may be an interesting companion to Brad Gregory's The Unintended Reformation: How a Religious Revolution Secularized Society. The other is that it can be an interesting thing to read in the run-up to the 400th anniversary of Luther's 95 theses. I also have Mark Noll's book, Is the Reformation Over? 

With those two books, I've got a good deal of good reading to look forward to.

On Christmas Eve I prepared a "Feast of the Two Fishes," as a nod to the southern Italian tradition of the Christmas Eve Feast of the Seven Fishes. I sautéed shrimp and scallops with garlic in a combination of olive oil and butter, and accompanied it with tricolor rotini with alfredo sauce from a jar, and salad. While we were eating it, my brother said, "This is a better dinner than we will have tomorrow [when we were to go to our aunt's]." I was amazed and very pleased, of course.

The dinner on Christmas was roast boneless leg of lamb with potatoes, squash, green beans, mint jelly, and gravy, preceded by cheese and crackers and a nice cream cheese dip, and followed by pumpkin and pecan pies. It was a good meal, but I don't think my brother changed his opinion about which meal was the better. There were six of us there, and while it wasn't a high-spirited gathering, it was a pleasant group to be part of for the five hours we were there.

Continuing the food theme — on the 26th I decided to have a rib roast of beef, something I almost never do. Unfortunately, at the end of the 15-20 minutes at very high temperature, instead of turning the oven down to cooking temperature for the remaining time, I inadvertently turned it off. By the time I noticed my mistake, it was 1 ½ hours later, and dinner was delayed accordingly. Saturday evening we had lobster, Sunday leftover beef. Monday we went to a restaurant, and Tuesday we had leftovers from the restaurant. Unfortunately, the restaurant closed on New Year's Eve. I had been in business for a couple of years. I rarely eat in restaurants other than before concerts and plays in Boston, but this was a good one, and I enjoyed going there for birthdays and similar occasions. Apparently there are too many restaurants around. A lot have come and gone over the years, and this one just never quite caught on, never had the success its quality deserved. Wednesday was similar to Christmas Eve but with just shrimp, no scallops. I wasn't able to find a duck for New Year's Day, so we had to settle for lamb chops. Friday I was on my own and had my familiar baked stuffed haddock. Last night, in honor of Epiphany, I cooked another rib roast, getting the oven temperatures right this time. It came out well, but we ate less than half of it. I had thought when I bough it that my brother might stay through this evening and we could again enjoy leftovers.

At this point, I have about four pounds of leftover roast beef as well as a lobster body, some pork casserole from the Sunday before Christmas, and still some leftover pasta from the restaurant. I can combine the lobster and pasta into a soup for lunch one day, eat the pork thing today for supper, and have leftover beef for three weekday dinners. That will probably still leave one or two meals' worth of beef for later on. It looks as if I won't be spending much for food this week.

The only other event worth mentioning is that we were invited to have eggnog and cookies on Tuesday evening December 30 at the home of the couple who invite us to Thanksgiving dinner. There were eight people there altogether, and it was fairly quiet (we're all over 70) but pleasant company. It's a good thing the eggnog wasn't too strongly alcoholic, since I had to drive home. Among the edibles was some stollen, which was pretty good. Later, it occurred to me that one could speak of the event as "stollen moments."

New Year's eve we stayed home. I think my brother was in bed before midnight (he isn't always), and I was here at my computer when 2015 hit, so I calmly said "Happy New Year." As good Catholics, we went to Mass on January 1 — nothing special after that.

My brother never helps with meal preparation — which is one reason I wanted to go to the restaurant one evening: preparing a full dinner for both of us day after day somehow feels like more of an effort than preparing one for myself on weekdays and for both of us on weekends. But he was very good about doing the dishes after every dinner. Sometimes I'd come to help dry them.

Well, it wasn't a spectacular time really, but with the two gatherings, as well as my brother's presence and the sparse decorations, it was something different from the weekly routines.

Merry Christmas

The title nearly says it all. I hope all readers will have a very merry Christmastide and a truly Happy New Year.

For me, it will be fairly busy for the next two days, right now washing shirts, then helping out around church this afternoon, at midnight, and in the morning, last minute food shopping today (held off for the senior discount), to aunt's for Christmas dinner. Then it's a bit more relaxed, although sometime before the end of next week I've got to trek in to Boston to renew my geezer card for the discounted subway fare.

I put the candles in the windows a couple of weeks ago, but only this morning got around to putting the wreath on one door and the Christmas tree quilt on another, the nativity  scene on the TV, the Christmas tree on the mantel and the olive wood "Joy to the World" cutout in the dining room window. There's also a small wood nativity scene to go somewhere, maybe my prayer room.

Big bro arrived last evening and will stay "for the duration," i.e., until January 2, except for a couple of day trips to Boston to check his mail. So I'll be cooking for two (without mushrooms, except on the side, or peas) and eating for one. Tonight it will either be sautéed shrimp with pasta and alfredo sauce or baked stuffed haddock. I've got a rib roast for Friday, and there should be leftovers for another meal. Saturday or Sunday I'll probably have lobsters. After that, I don't know — maybe a duck for New Year's Eve or Day.

It won't be a white Christmas. It's misty and drizzly right now. Snow would be beautiful, but the warmer temperatures are also welcome, and I'm sure it will feel Christmasy after I've gone to Mass.

So, once more, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all.

Thanksgiving 2014

The pictures in MartininBroda's most recent post were so attractive that they reminded me of the delicious meal I had on Thanksgiving — even though none of the foods were the same.

As has happened for several recent Thanksgivings, two fellow parishioners invited my brother and me to join them for Thanksgiving dinner. I offered to provide pumpkin and mince pies and sage cheese. The former were available in the freezer at the supermarket, needing only to be "home baked," as my mother used to say.

As for the cheese, a cheddar type with sage added to flavor it, it has been years since I've been able to find it in stores around here. This is disappointing, since I believe it is a traditional type, unlike some of the more recent types of flavored cheeses. My dad was pleased to find it one year, a long time ago, and have something which had been customary in his family (and I imagine in others).  But this year, finally, I realized that I should go online to the manufacturer and order it. They were producing a fresh batch which was not ready to be released when I placed the order, but on Monday the 24th it was shipped,and it arrived the day before the holiday.

On the evening of the 26th, I called the hostess to verify what I would be bringing, and she informed me that she was cooking the pumpkin pie. It was in the oven at that moment, so all I needed to bring was the mince pie and the cheese. So I went out and got a bottle of wine to add to my offerings.

In addition to the hostess and her husband, the dinner group included a couple from Ohio whom they knew from when both couples lived in Texas, a 50ish fellow parishioner, and the widow who lives next door, who turned out to be the widow of a member of the Race Committee at the yacht club, someone we've known for maybe 25 years, although we hadn't seen her recently.

We started with shrimp and a fairly mild sauce, roasted cashews, celery and olives, and some of the sage cheese, which everybody enjoyed. Also a nice white wine. Dinner was, of course, roast turkey. There was a somewhat spicy stuffing of ground beef and pork and imperceptible breadcrumbs, gravy, mashed potatoes, a casserole of sliced yams, three kinds of cranberry sauce, and a green salad. More white wine accompanied it all.

Then it was time for a walk. I took the menfolk to see two nearby houses, one of which had been the winter home of a family my brother and I had known as teenagers. The house next door was that family's summer home!

After the walk, it was time for dessert: pumpkin, mince, and pecan pies, sage cheese, whipped cream, ice cream, tea, and coffee. I had the pumpkin, a bit of the mince, whipped cream, cheese, and coffee. Surprisingly, since the host husband and the Ohioans were all originally from Texas or Oklahoma, the pecan pie had the fewest takers.

Throughout the afternoon, there was enjoyable conversation, mostly personal reminiscences, with never an argument. So it was a very enjoyable five hours. I have prepared Thanksgiving dinner for my brother and me, but even when I get the smallest turkey I can find — 10-11pounds — there is too much left over. This is definitely a better way to celebrate the day, and I'm glad there are kind people who want to provide the hospitality.

A Disappointing Realization and a Good Book

A Disappointing Realization.  For year I've had the custom of putting my sliced mushrooms on a plate of olive oil before broiling them with my steak. As I drained the cooled fat from the broiling pan after cooking my blade steaks and mushrooms a few days ago, it occurred to me — based on the color, the quantity, and the liquidity of said fat — that most of it must be olive oil that had come out of the mushrooms as they cooked. This means that I do not get to ingest most of that nutritious lipid in which I marinate the mushrooms. In future, instead of consigning it to the garbage pail, I'll have to devise ways of reserving it and consuming it (such as pouring it onto my baked potato) so as to gain the health benefits of this not inexpensive oil.


A Good Book.  I've finished reading Struggle Central, by Tom Zuniga, my guest last Sunday night. It's an easy read, certain to resonate with introverts, and perhaps useful for extroverts to help them understand how introverts often feel. Tom's struggle has some specifics that not all introverts share. In my case the major issue seems to have been fear/expectation of rejection. But Tom writes with deep insight into his own feelings, and with a realism that a life without struggle is not to be expected, but as we struggle we can also succeed. In his metaphor, there are peak experiences, at the mountaintop, when we have struggled to reach that summit, but they can't last. We descend into the valley and struggle some more.

I was in group therapy for four years. During that time I became increasingly aware of the program that played in my mind— the one that told me I had been rejected, that I was being rejected, that I was going to be rejected. Gradually I learned not to let that program run all the time, to realize that I'm usually accepted, that the things that felt like being rejected weren't always about me at all. It seems that Tom is aware of the program that runs in his mind and that lies at the base of many of his struggles over the past twenty-five years. That awareness makes it possible to refuse to be overcome by the self-doubts and feelings of inadequacy. It may take more years of struggle, but hopefully with increasing success. Although we're never struggle-free, they can be less overwhelming.

So I recommend the book for anyone who struggles with feelings of isolation or inadequacy, as well as for anyone who wants to understand what it's like to find interacting with others difficult. I got it through my local bookseller; it's also available online.

Tom's Visit

Fellow blogger and tweeter Thomas Mark Zuniga is about six months into his trek (#RunningTo) across the United States and much of Canada. He's been doing it by "couch surfing" and staying with friends. I became aware of him earlier this year, possibly via a retweet or blogpost from Gabriel Blanchard. He seemed an interesting and pleasant person, so I've been following him on Twitter, and I offered to host him if he came to the Boston area. After spending a day or so in Maine, he arrived here about 7:30 p.m. Sunday evening.

My brother was here as well. When I had told him Tom would be here, he thought he would not stay, but he subsequently decided that he would stay here as well. I did some tidying up, so the house was minimally presentable. That Sunday was the Feast of Christ the King in the Catholic calendar, so it merited special food. Tom had agreed to have lobster.

When Tom arrived I had just begun dinner preparations: beginning to heat the water for the lobsters and corn (what you call maize), and putting salad greens in bowls. Tom cut up a tomato, while I began to prepare some crackers and cheese (Brie and Port Salut). In the living room, Tom had some cranberry apple juice, Jim, his usual beer, and I my usual manhattan. We talked mostly about where to park (subway station garage) and what to see in Boston (I recommended Beacon Hill and the Freedom Trail). I gave Tom an official Boston and Cambridge Visitors' Guide. Tom helped shuck the corn. At dinner, we talked about eating lobster, visiting Boston, and Jim and I shared a number of family stories. I hope it was entertaining. If not, at least Tom was polite. When my manhattan was gone, I went for a beer, and Tom decided to try one too. We each had a Spencer Trappist Ale (the only Trappist ale brewed in the United States). He liked it. It's fairly full-bodied, and not bitter. Dessert was coffee ice-cream and cookies.

After dinner, Tom autographed my copy of his book, Struggle Central, which I had just gotten through my local bookseller on Friday. Tom has blogged about it. Although I'm only beginning to read it now, I expect it to be very good

This morning, I got some specific information from the MBTA about fares and parking facilities, which I printed out. I also attached little post-its at places in the Visitors' Guide that I thought would be useful. At breakfast, Tom talked about how he's been able to play for the trip so far, and his plans for the remainder of the trip.

It would have been pleasant for me if Tom could have stayed a day or two longer. I'd have liked to show him around my home town and some of the surrounding area. That was not possible. Tom already had plans to stay overnight Monday with a friend in Cambridge. Then he wanted to see Worcester and Providence (I recommended taking a look at Newport), before heading to Philadelphia for Thanksgiving with his family. Beyond that, even if there had been more time, I've realized that Tom prefers to see places on his own. That's what he's been doing for six months, and that's what he wanted to do in Boston. He'd be happy to have suggestions, but I think he'd rather not have me alongside talking a blue streak about what everything was, and how I had once done something here and something else there.

So he headed off shortly before 9:30, and I trust he's finding enough points of interest in Boston to fill his day. He was a good guest, and I hope my hospitality was satisfactory. Edited to add: I had been planning to suggest that he make himself a sandwich or two to take along for lunch, but it slipped my mind. Hospitality fail.

Time to Remember the Month of September

A couple of days ago I looked at the list of my posts on this blog, and I was amazed to see that I haven't posted anything since September 2. So it's about time for an update.

My sister-in-law came for a visit, beginning on Wednesday, September 3. My brother met her at the airport and drove her out here. As it happened, Donald Teeters, a fairly well-known conductor in this area, had recently died, and his funeral was that evening. He had taught her conducting when she was at New England Conservatory, and had visited her school and was a guest in her home one time when he visited Japan. So she wanted to go to the funeral. I brought her to the subway and helped her figure out how to get to her destination. One of her classmates, who lives in eastern Massachusetts, played the organ at the funeral, and gave her a ride home. I still hadn't had my dinner when she got back, so I  shared with her. The gala welcoming dinner of steak was postponed, as was the plan, to Thursday evening.

On Friday, she wanted to visit her organ teacher from the conservatory. The teacher now lives in an assisted living facility about a 50 minute drive from here. I was tied up when she needed to go, so my brother drove her there. About 2 ½ hours later, I went to bring her back. I took a route back home through an area which has very little traffic — country roads through the woods. But along the way there was an ice cream stand, and we each had some, which was refreshing, since the day was hot. That evening it was time for the gala farewell dinner — boiled lobster, steamed mussels, corn on the cob, sponge cake with fruit and whipped cream.

On Saturday morning I brought her to South Station in Boston so she could take the express train to New York where she spent several days visiting my nephew. He and his girlfriend have moved in together, and one feature of the visit was my sister meeting the girlfriend's mother. I understand they got along well. In the olden days, the next step would be for the kids to get married. I hope they will, but nobody's said anything about. Somebody's got to transmit those Naturgesetz family genes to the next generation.


The next big event was my "annual" check-up with my primary care physician on the 11th. He couldn't find anything wrong, except for a bit of ringworm near my right nipple — Gold Bond powder should eventually clear it up. He conducts the exam very conversationally, and of course, I like the chance to be naked with someone pleasant like him. I don't remember other doctors checking for testicular cancer, but he does, and I was surprised at how gently he felt my testicles on both visits — my previous doctor retired and this was my second time with this doctor.


My last Race Committee assignment was on Saturday the 13th. It was a fairly windy day with choppy seas. We had a problem with the mechanical winch which hauls up the anchor. Fortunately, we discovered it early in the day, and by the time we needed to haul up the anchor, the boy who drives the boat and shoots the signal cannons had figured out how to get it working.


The following Thursday, the concert season began for me with the opening night of the Boston Symphony, followed on Friday with a concert by the Boston Artists Ensemble at Salem's historic Hamilton Hall. If you follow the link and then go to "Community" and then to "Lectures" you can read about a series that my mother used to attend for many years. I'm happy to know that they still serve bouillon.


I was invited to dinner with friends on Saturday and then there were two events on Sunday afternoon. First was the funeral of a long-time sailor and member of the yacht club — also an avid and accomplished skier. After the service, the family had a reception at the yacht club. Coincidentally, when I was at the Hamilton Hall website just now, the widow was in the picture at the top of the "Community" page. She's the one on the right. Before that reception was over, I had to go to the other end of the club building to join an "Octoberfest" for the race Committee. Many years ago, I used to bring German Oktoberfest beer and German style cold cuts out to the Race Committee boat for the last event, which fell within Oktoberfest in the old country. Circumstances changed, and it didn't work anymore, but people kept asking for me to revive it. Finally this year, club management put on an event ashore, with advice from me as to what it should include (roast chicken, bratwurst, weisswurst, sauerkraut, potato salad, and Oktoberfest beer from Munich). So it was actually more like the real thing than what I could do on a boat.


The rest of the month was fairly routine. There is a thirty year old guy I've known for a dozen or more years. Last winter he was hospitalized for depression, and now he's moved back to his parents' home. I know he's interested in music, so I thought it might be helpful for him too get out to some of the concerts I go to, so I've given him a list of everything I have planned over the season (basically through April) and said if there are any he'd like to go to, just let me know. We'll see if anything ever comes of it. He mentioned, when I gave him the list, that he especially likes baroque music, which is largely lacking in the concerts I attend. I'll have to keep alert for possibilities from Boston Baroque and the Boston Early Music Festival.

A Visit from Mark and Other Recent Things

     My friend Mark managed to get a few days off work and came for a visit. His bus arrived on Monday at 1:35 p.m., and departure was on Wednesday evening at 7:40.

     I met him at South Station in Boston, and we had lunch at a bar I'm the station — my first cuban sandwich ever. It was good, but I probably won't be having one every month.He had a vegetarian sandwich which he liked. When we got to my place, I checked the internet for a while. Eventually we got undressed and watched the Red Sox game on TV. Then Mark felt a little cold and "dressed for dinner." Dinner included pork cutlets, marsala style. Mark was tired, having had to get up early for the bus from Syracuse, and went to bed. I stayed up for several hours at my computer.

     The previous week, my Race Committee duties had taken me past Hammond Castle, which I had never visited despite having known of it for over 60 years. It occurred to me that Mark might like to go there too. Also on Cape Ann is a smaller building, Beauport, the Sleeper-McCann House. It's near the retreat house on Eastern Point, Gloucester, where I've gone a couple of times; and I noticed it when I was walking around in the neighborhood. I'd wanted to see it sometime. Mark hadn't seen either place when he was working in Massachusetts and was interested in seeing them. We toured the castle on our own and found it quite impressive. At Beauport we arrived just in time to join a guided tour which was beginning. Although each room was in an early American style, each had a distinctive theme, and the explanations of the tour guide made it more interesting. Afterwards, we agreed that Beauport had been a little more interesting than Hammond Castle, although both are worth seeing.

     For lunch, we headed over to Essex for fried clams at Woodman's, the best known fried clam place in Massachusetts (and perhaps worldwide). They were founded in 1914, and they say their founder invented fried clams in 1916. The clams were quite good, but we were both surprised at the prices — although I must admit I haven't bought fried clams in ages, so I don't know how other places' prices compare. Neither of us had been to Woodman's before. So the whole excursion was a time of firsts for us both.

     Back at home, we got out of our clothes. I showed Mark some music videos I like. Later we settled in front of the TV for the Red Sox game. After the game, Mark felt a bit cold, so he got dressed. He expressed an interest in having some pasta with alfredo sauce, so I cooked some tricolor rotini and boiled some peas and combined them with some alfredo sauce. I also had some leftover london broil steak which I reheated for us.

     On Wednesday, there was another first for both of us: the New England Aquarium. There was a lot to be seen, but with limited time, we did not linger and read all the captions at each of the dozen or more varied habitat displays. The big tank was not as large as I had expected. Our overall conclusion was that it was good but somewhat of a disappointment. Nevertheless, I wouldn't mind going back and spending more time at the small exhibits.

     Then we strolled around for a while and went to the nearby Legal Sea Foods for dinner. Mine was a shrimp, garlic, tomato, and mushroom combination which was large enough to be my dinner on Friday as well. We had left Mark's luggage (backpack and small bag) in my car at the subway station garage. So we had to go back and get them. I went back into Boston with Mark to be sure he would find the way to South Station. Once he was sure of the way, I headed home.

     Mark brought some zucchini bread which he had made, and we both enjoyed it from time to time. I had the last of it after he was gone. It was good by itself, and also with butter and cream cheese.

     It was a very nice visit. In addition to what I've mentioned, we had good conversations about current events and issues as well as about our own doings. If the weather had been warmer and more humid, Mark might have been naked a bit more, but it's not very important. I certainly don't want to pressure him or anybody to be naked, but I think it's nice that we're comfortable enough being naked and being around each other that we're able to indulge our mutual enjoyment of nudity when we feel like it.


     On Friday, I had Race Committee duty. Instead of being on the large "signal boat," I was assigned to duty on one of the mark boats, a 17 foot inflatable "rib craft." It bounced a lot on the waves and required more holding on to something to avoid falling down or being thrown overboard. Today my shoulders and knees are a little sore. I hope it hasn't hastened the approach of arthritis in my knees, which seems to run in my mother's family.

     Last evening I finished Writing on the Wall, by Tom Standage. It was a Christmas gift from my brother in Japan. Standage sees the internet as similar to earlier forms of communication and interaction such as the circular letters of ancient times, pamphlets, and coffeehouses. He contrasts those forms of two-way communication with the one-way forms such as newspapers, radio, and TV, and thinks the two-way forms are better.

A Pleasant Evening in Boston

The Harvard Musical Association had a string sextet (2 each of violins, violas, and cellos) playing a piece by Korngold (written around 1920, i.e., before he started composing movie scores) and one by Brahms. But first, I went to the Scollay Square for dinner.

Arriving at the restaurant, I saw Wendy the waitress and greeted her enthusiastically. We talked a bit about recent symphony concerts which I had attended. When she came to take my dinner order, she mentioned that they had a shrimp cocktail appetizer, but when I said I had been thinking of trying the "Drunken Shrimp," which I had never had, she said I should have it: it was one of her favorites, and the menu would soon be changing. A couple of ladies came in and were seated at the table to my right. When they were discussing what to order, I recommended the miso glazed salmon, which I sometimes have. One of them had it and liked it. If she hadn't, I would have had Wendy put it on my tab. As I was leaving, I asked if Seth still worked there. He does — on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Saturdays — so I asked her to say hello for me. (Some previous posts in which I mention Wendy, Seth, and other waitstaff.)

At the HMA I had a seat which allowed me to see all the players except the second violin, and I could see that each instrument had different music to play — they didn't have both cellos playing the same thing, or both violas or violins. Both pieces were enjoyable. The previous evening I had left Symphony Hall at intermission rather than stay to hear Brahms' Fourth Symphony. As a rule, I don't like Brahms.* But the sextet was composed when he was still under 30, and he hadn't gone all dissonant and it was pleasant to listen to, so I'm glad I didn't leave at intermission this time.

After the concert we had a supper of shrimp cardinale (here's a link to a recipe and here's another — ours had bits of green in it, maybe chives or parsley) on toast points, followed by a green salad. It was very tasty. I know, it was a lot of food for the evening, but my breakfast had been a bowl of Wheatena with 4 apricots, and my lunch had been three ounces of applesauce and 1 1/2 ounces of muenster cheese — and no beer — so a late supper may not have been really excessive. Anyway, it was good.

At the subway station, there was a man with a supply of little American flags and a sign asking for donations. I gave him a dollar, but declined the flag. I don't need another. BTW, the previous night, a young man got on the subway and started yelling about how his coat had been stolen and he needed money to buy another one at Goodwill because he'd be outdoors all night in the freezing weather because he couldn't get a bed at Pine Street Inn, the homeless shelter. The coat would cost $25, and all he had was $15. He may have been on drugs, and the story may have been a fabrication, but he seemed earnest. Two people across from me gave him a couple of dollars, and I gave him a $10 bill. He thanked us warmly, and when he left the train a couple of stops later he again called out his thanks


*I think the Reason I don't like Brahms is his extensive use of dissonance combined with what I think is called "sfrozando." The instruments sort of push the note and then let it diminish a bit. Well whatever it is, the music seems strained to me — as if someone were sitting on a toilet seat and trying to force a bowel movement and repeatedly grunting as he did so. But dissonance in general is something I don't like a lot of. As I noted on my music blog, I disliked last week's "Daphnis and Chloe" by Ravel, and I think it was also because of the extensive use of dissonance. In fact, it may be that I find atonality easier to take than dissonance which doesn't promptly resolve into consonance.

Christmas and Other Doings

Our 90+ year old aunt invited my brother and me for Christmas dinner, as she has done for several years. The party consisted of a friend/colleague of hers (who handled the cooking) and two other regulars: a husband and wife (who has a bit of Alzheimers). We arrived at about 3:00 and had pleasant conversation over wine and cheese until dinner was ready at about 5:00. The main dish was a boneless roast leg of lamb — very tasty. Desserts were pumpkin, mince, and pecan (the friend is from Oklahoma) pies. The only one I think I like is pumpkin, but I decided to have a sliver of each and was surprised to find I actually found the mince and the pecan pleasant. After dinner, back to the living room. I was about to suggest it was time to go home when two other friends of my aunt's showed up. So we had to stay a while in order to avoid seeming to have left on account of their arrival. Got home just after 9:00.

The next day, we had lamb chops for dinner. I had bought them a few days earlier, figuring that we'd have turkey, as usual, at my aunt's. It's probably the first time in my life I've had lamb two days in a row, except as leftovers. But I like lamb, so I didn't mind. It just isn't something I have very often.

Christmas gifts. I gave my big brother a 12-pack of beer, which is customary, and a book of sudoku puzzles. I sent scarves to my kid brother and sister-in-law. Big bro gave me a wall calendar, which is customary, and a phone apparatus with remote handsets, which I needed to replace one whose battery doesn't take a full charge. Kid bro and s-i-l sent a book*, a cd of Gregorian Chant from a group she is involved with, and "from the cats" a box of Japanese rice crackers (senbei).

* The book looks pretty interesting. It's My Promised Land, by Ari Shavit. It's his personal perspective on Zionism and Israeli history. I've only glanced at it, but it seems that he sees both good things and serious mistakes in the history. I'm planning to make it my table reading after I finish my current book, The Signal and the Noise, by Nate Silver. (You can google the books if you want to know more about them.)

Brother, food. My brother, who visits every weekend when he isn't traveling, got here Christmas Eve and stayed through New Year's Day. Then he came back for this weekend. In addition to the lamb chops, we enjoyed baked stuffed haddock, dinner at a nice restaurant, ribeye steaks, my version of shrimp scampi, steamed salmon, duck (must make duck soup soon), lobster, and I forget what all else. Today, I did spambled egg muffins for breakfast (I like to have it once or twice a year), and tonight I'll have another ribeye steak (bro is back in Boston) for Twelfth night. Except for the holidays and Sundays my brother makes his own breakfasts, and he generally makes himself a sandwich for lunch, so I only have to do the dinners.

Storm. The big storm came through on Thursday and Friday, but it only gave us about a foot of snow. The roads were very slippery on Thursday. Friday, after it stopped, there was beautiful white packed powder on the streets, which made a nice crunching sound under the tires. On Saturday, the ice and salt began to turn it into brown slush. I managed to get a bit of recreational shoveling in, but my plowman took care of the driveway and his assistant shoveled to the side door; and my good neighbor brought his snowblower and took care of the sidewalks and the walk to my front door. The wind had kept half of the walk to the garage clear, and I handled the rest with almost no effort.

Nick. In mid-December I learned that a guy in his late twenties — whom I've had a very mild crush on for several years — was hospitalized for depression. I never would have suspected he was depressed, but then he lives out of town so I don't see much of him. I happened to notice him on Facebook and sent a friend request, which he accepted. I then suggested he might like to go to a concert or play with me sometime. He expressed interest in symphony, and I think we may go to a concert in March.

Spiritual Direction. My spiritual director retired and moved to Maine a few months ago. Eventually he made arrangements to use a rectory in the area for sessions with me and with a couple of other directees. But on both occasions when he has scheduled meetings, snowsrtorms have been predicted, so he hasn't been able to come. I hope I'll have something good to talk about (i.e., some progress in some regard) by the time we get together again.

Plans for Thanksgiving

This year the couple who invited me and my brother to their place for Thanksgiving in earlier years are going to their children's home out of state. So I'll be preparing Thanksgiving dinner. I've invited a single guy from church who has also been a guest at the other couple's Thanksgiving dinner.

I'll start the day by going to Mass at my parish church. Then I'll mostly be involved with preparing and setting up for the dinner.

First I'll prepare the bread stuffing (Pepperidge Farm mix, with some sauteed celery and onion added). When that's ready it goes into the bird and the bird goes into the oven. The giblets will cook in a double boiler. Then there should be time to set out mixed nuts and cheese and crackers, and maybe tortilla chips and dip, for the social hour. I'll peel and boil some potatoes and mash them with milk, a little butter and dried parsley. Hubbard squash will be peeled, cut up, boiled and then mashed with butter, honey, and nutmeg. When the turkey's done, I'll make gravy from the pan drippings, flour, the cooking water from the veggies and the giblets, with a bit of soy sauce, Tabasco, mild paprika, Bell's Poultry Seasoning, etc. (Since my brother doesn't eat giblets, I'll have them available on the side, rather than chopping them into the gravy) We'll also have cranberry sauce, which I'll make this evening; and I got some green olives stuffed with pimiento to go with celery on a relish plate (first time in years for the relish plate). For dessert it will be pumpkin pie and mince pie, with whipped cream to accompany the former and cheddar cheese for either; thin mints and chocolates will also be offered. I'll bake the pies this evening.

When I was a boy, all of the above would be part of the dinner. It would also have included creamed onions, sweet potatoes, steamed puddings with custard sauce and hard sauce, sometimes scalloped oysters, and sometimes potato stuffing in addition to the bread. You'll notice there are no green beans, no salad, in fact no green vegetables of any sort other than the relish plate. That's the tradition I learned, and I'm sticking with it. You can have your green vegetables 363 days per year, but not on Thanksgiving or Christmas.

To accompany it, I have several kinds of beer, whiskey, and rum for the social hour and merlot and Graves wines for the dinner. There will be coffee to go with dessert.

In addition to what I do this evening, I'll probably spend most of the time from 10:00 to 2:00 preparing the meal, 2:00 to 4:00 enjoying it, and 4:00 to 5:00 putting away leftovers and helping with the clean-up. Mostly we'll use the fancy china (parents' wedding gifts) and silver — not dishwasher safe. Perhaps we'll call the cousins in Colorado in the evening, after the guest has left. If anybody wants supper, I recommend another piece of pie.

I guess it's about time to leave the computer and start cooking.

A Visit from Family Members; Update on Updates

A Visit from Family Members  My sister-in-law arrived from Japan on Friday for a visit through Wednesday morning. My big brother (net her husband) met her at the airport. I hadn't completed all the tidying up I had had in mind, and she began to do some housecleaning — very embarrassingOn Sunday her son (my nephew) and his girlfriend arrived by train from New York. Although she calls herself a vegetarian, she said she would like to have lobster along with the rest of us, and she enjoyed it. She calls herself "a chill vegetarian," and apparently her motive is health, not an ethical concern about eating meat. They'll also be heading out on Wednesday morning. My brother will take them to train station and airport.

It's kinda fun having them here. Last evening, we played "Clue" — first time for me in 30-40 yrs.

With three additional people sharing the upstairs bathroom, I realized I needed a way to get the hot, humid air out of the room. I took the window fan from my room and put it in the bathroom window as an exhaust fan, plugged into the light by the sunk. When the light's on, so is the fan. Then I realized that it strained a bit when the door was closed, so I lowered the upper sash, so as the fan pushes the moist air out at the lower level, cooler air comes in at the upper level to replace it. (When I'm alone upstairs, of course, I can just leave the door open.


Update on Updates  My brother in Japan suggested that my nephew could help with the computer woes I talked about in my previous post. Meanwhile, once I finally got the printer working, I was annoyed to see nothing giving me the options to print only one or a limited number of pages of a multi-page document. Finally this morning, encouraged by a cryptic reference in the printer User's Guide, I decided to see what happened on an unlabeled button with a down arrow in the print dialogue box. That opened a larger box giving me the options which used to be in the first box that appeared. Does somebody think it's an improvement to have to jump through one more hoop to have those options available? Well, at least I solved that problem.

The Google/Safari problem remained. And for that I asked my nephew to help. An option on the Mac menu offers Software Updates. My nephew knew about that and suggested going there. Most of the updates were for applications I don't use, and there was nothing about Safari. But there was one for a general OS uupgrade. It had crossed my mind that it might help, but I wouldn't have tried it. He thought we should, so we did. When it was finished, I had a newer version of the Mac OS X 6, and it was able to run the standard format of gmail and let me access google+ and my g calendar in all its colorful splendor.

So for now I'm happy with the state of my computer and printer.

Japan Diary, Part Four

June 2  I woke up about 5:30, fed the cats, shaved, said my morning prayers, generally relaxed, and finally had breakfast at about 8:30.

To get to Mass at St. Francis Xavier chapel at Sophia University, I needed to get to Shinjuku (a major rail hub in Tokyo) via the Odakyu Line, then take either the Chuo Line or the Maronouchi Line to Yotsuya Station. There was a change of trains on the Odakyu Line several stops before Shinjuku, which my brother had told me about. I had forgotten about it, but when the announcement was made on the train, I knew what it meant. I had hoped to take the Maronouchi Line, because in January 2010 I had taken the Chuo Line. But I couldn't follow the directions to it in the station, so I took the Chuo Line and got to Yotsuya with no difficulty. It helps that station announcements are made in Japanese, Korean, and English and that station signs are in Japanese and Korean and in Roman alphabet. The church is just across the intersection from the station exit.

The church is a fairly large, oval, gray brick building, with tall stained glass windows.

A general view of the interior, including pulpit, altar, tabernacle, and several of the windows.

(Click on photos to enlarge for greater detail.)

The window the the left of the altar in the previous photo.

Another window.

Detail of one of the windows in the rear of the church.

The noon Mass was in English. I made the mistake of putting ¥5,000 in the collection basket, rather than 500 (i.e. about $50, rather than 5).

In the courtyard outside, they were having a bazaar, with all the usual sorts of stuff — mostly handmade cloth articles.

A banner announced the event (I think).

There were a few musicians, including this guy.

Here's the section where they had food. Most was typical Japanese items, but I settled for a hot dog.

It was explained to me that this table had ceramic wares made by the clients of a program for the developmentally handicapped, which operated in the area near Mt. Fuji. toward the left are bowls with a blue design. These may be the ones that seem to show a stylized cat's face. I bought one for my brother and sister in law.

I also bought this smaller bowl for myself.

I returned to Shinjuku via the Maronouchi Line. Then via the Odakyu Line to Kyodo, where I bought a large bowl of noodle soup at a semi-automated noodle shop. (There's a numbered menu with pictures of the items. You put money into a machine and click the number of the item you want. The machine produces a ticket which you take to the counter. They ask if you want soba or udon noodles in your soup. When your order is ready they call you.)

After I got home, I watched some baseball on TV. The teams all seem to have one or two Americans on them. I had a nap, watered the plants, said my evening prayers, and had a steak dinner, which I forgot to take a picture of (sorry).

June 3 & 4  The next two days included some reading, a fair amount of TV watching (costume dramas mostly), watering the plants, doing the sudoku and crossword puzzles in the English language papers my brother gets, and grocery shopping.

The cats were good about letting me know when they were hungry.

They also knew how to relax.

Monday evening I had salmon with asparagus on toast.

Tuesday I bought some sandwiches at the university student coop. The one in the bun was pretty good and so was the cutlet sandwich. The one in the middle was mainly veggies and not very tasty.

At the cash register the clerk opened a drawer under the register and said something which included the words "go en." After a few seconds I remembered that my brother had told me that he was annoyed that they charge five yen for a plastic bag. I then remembered that "go" is Japanese for five, and "en" is Japanese for yen. Somehow I managed to convey that I was willing to pay the extra ¥5, and I got a bag to carry the sandwiches and a bottle of beer brewed by a company founded by a graduate of the uni.

Tuesday evening I watched the highly anticipated soccer (football) match between Japan and Australia. Keisuke Honda, a big bleached-blond player, got to take a penalty kick in extra time when an Aussie touched the ball with his hand. His scored a goal, which created a tie, enabling Japan to qualify for the World Cup, and that had people celebrating in the streets and pubs all over Japan.

My dinner that evening was pork cutlets with mushrooms on toast points and some leftover beans. They're sort of like edamame, but bigger. You take the beans out of the shell, and then you take the membrane off each bean.

On each of these days, I went to bed between 12:30 and 12:45, whereas earlier in the trip I had been retiring well before midnight. I suppose it has to do with the fact that when I'm alone, I tend to put off dinner until late in the evening.

This leaves three more days, which I expect to cover in my next post about the trip. There will be some kitty pics and some additional ground covered in a walk along the promenade, and then bro and s-i-l got back, and I had my return flights.

Japan Diary, Part Three

This post will have lots of pics, mostly from early morning walks I took. I hope they give you some idea of what it's like in a basically residential area of Tokyo. When my grandmother was alive and I'd show her pics from my travels, she'd say, "That's lovely, Joe," at each one. Finally it dawned on me that what she meant was, "This is very boring, don't linger on it." So if you find these "lovely," feel free to skim. If you're not bored, I hope the captions will be adequate. I'll be happy to answer questions (if I know the answer). As always, click to enlarge. (I recommend it.)

May 31 I woke up early again (about 4:00) with the sky beginning to brighten, but I tried to get back to sleep. I got up at about 5:30 and headed out for a walk at about 6:00. There is a street which runs past my brother's side street, goes down a hill, crosses a main street, and then goes uphill to the railroad station. Unusually for Japan, both streets have names. Nodai Dori goes to the station, crossing Shiroyama Dori along the way. In earlier times there was a river running through the low area, but now it has been placed in an underground channel, and there is a pedestrian promenade along its former course

Nodai Dori near my brother's house, looking north. The pedestrians give some idea of the width (i.e., narrowness) of the street.

Notice the absence of front yards. If a building doesn't come up to the street line, there is usually a wall or fence. Possibly with shrubbery.

Hydrangeas just beginning to bloom at an intersection.

Continuing along toward the station, approaching the dip.

The tall building in the distance is next to the station. It houses the Peacock department store, which is one of the places my brother showed me to shop for food. There is a bowling alley on the top floor, and you may be able to see the large bowling pin on the roof. (Actually, I can't see it even when I enlarge the pics, but I know I saw it when I took the pics.)

Side street. Fairly new buildings.

Street level sign board for Gotsui restaurant, where we ate the previous evening. The restaurant is upstairs, and you can see the stairs to the right.

Another sign board for Gotsui. Pictured on it is the section where we ate. They pushed the tables together for us.

At this point I have crossed Shiroyama Dori, the former river area. From here to the station, the street is lined with shops. At times, it is a pedestrian zone.

Streetscape.

English adds a bit of cachet. (There are a number of schools nearby, and many students may be studying English.) During a previous trip I was fascinated by the name and ate there. Food was very good, for a burger joint, and cooked to order.

Coincidentally, the place where my brother took me to lunch later in the day is on the second floor, right over this place.

The station comes into view.

The tracks are elevated at this point, and there is a roof over them.

Station, with plaza.

The sign identifies the train line and the station. From the part of the plaza you see, one goes down three shallow steps to get to the roofed ares, where the doors are to the left. Notice the sculpture to the right.

Beyond the station, to the left, is a several story building housing a number of shops and an Odakyu OX store, which also included a supermarket

This side of the station was something more familiar to Westerners.

A side street not far from the station.

Another shot of Nodai Dori, now heading south, away from the station.

The wall and fence look modern, but the exterior of the building has been made to look traditional, at least at a glance to a Westerner.

After breakfast, I did some laundry, mainly so I'd know how the machine worked if I had to wash something while they were away. I also read some of my book by Voegelin and worked the newspaper puzzles.

For lunch my brother took me to a place called Cozi Cozi. He had the five item special (quiche, pate, meatball, potato, salad  with a roll.) I had the borscht and piroshki. Each cost ¥1,000 (about $10).

In mid-June they had a party there to celebrate my bother's becoming a Japanese citizen.

In the evening, I lent a hand in the kitchen as my sister-in-law prepared a dinner of seafood curry (with mushrooms) and salad.

After dinner, the taxi arrived to take my brother to the airport.

Picture taken without flash. To the left are my s-i-l's brother and mother. My brother and s-i-l to the right.

June 1  On Saturday I headed out even earlier, about 4:30, and walked a bit of the promenade where the river used to be. There were a few other people out walking too, including a young couple (end of night or beginning of day?)

I like the tape to warn walkers of the overhang — instead of cutting the tree down.

I think this is an alley off the promenade. The Japanese like to have trees and shrubs in their yards.

The promenade winds between buildings.

There are small garden and playground areas.

It is suitably marked where it crosses a street.

Flowers are planted in spots along the way.

After another relaxing day of newspapers, TV, book, food shopping  and nap, dinner was a fairly simple affair, ordered in from the sushi place (but not sushi), and then it was my sister-in-law's turn to take a taxi to the airport. 

Now I was alone with the cats.