Holiday mashed bob

It's been a busy week. Much driving, much food, much visiting, late nights. Drove the last guest to the train station this afternoon, and have been enjoying a quiet, rainy, delightfully dull day at home since then.

Backtrack to last week. Three busy days in the office. On Thursday I attended a funeral, which was sad and heartwarming and funny and moving. That evening my sister-in-law arrived from Missouri.

On Friday, shopped for a few last gifts, plus an inflatable bed for the next set of guests, arriving Saturday. Went to a matinee - the new Sherlock Holmes movie. I enjoyed it immensely, which is probably partly because it is good and partly because I rarely see movies in the theater.

Saturday, Christmas eve. Drove to Atlantic City to pick up son and his lovely Bulgarian girlfriend from the airport - they were back from a week in Cocoa Beach.  I made tofu baked with barbecue sauce for dinner, and Rosa was energetic enough and inspired enough to create a traditional Bulgarian Christmas Eve dish for us all - it's called bob, which means beans. Mashed bob!

The liquid part, poured over the top, is made of simmered olive oil and paprika.

The real taste sensation, though, is the ground garlic and walnuts, which is mixed on your plate with the bob. A little scoop of bob, a little scoop of ground garlic and walnuts -- it's very good! Rosa said it is eaten only on Christmas Eve - Bulgarians have a whole different set of traditional dishes for Christmas day.

And then we stayed up till 1:00 a.m. playing Settlers of Catan.

Christmas day. We all woke up early and piled into the cars and headed toward Millersville, to see daughter, daughter's partner, and the grandkids.

Brunch, presents, games, more food, etc. Back into the cars and home again. Quesadillas for dinner.

Monday - we all decided to go to the movies again! This time it was a 3D movie, Hugo. Fabulous. I love, love, loved it.

Tuesday everyone relaxed at home, which in some ways was one of the best parts of the holiday.

Wednesday son and girlfriend drove back to Ithaca, sister-in-law flew back to Missouri, and I sat around and read.

And later that night:

Birthday cake! I made it to 60 - I'm officially old.

I must say, it's not too bad. As they say, much better than the alternative.

Thank you for your kindness.

Arose early this morning to take C & R, arrived the night before from Ithaca, NY, to the Atlantic City airport. They will be spending a week at Cocoa Beach, which sounds delightful at this time of year (actually, a week at the beach sounds pretty good at any time of year).

Since I was so close to the ocean, I didn't want to miss the chance to see an ocean sunrise. So after dropping them off I drove the extra few miles to AC, and hit the boardwalk.

There were very few people up and about at that hour. The Steel Pier sits deserted, waiting for next summer.

As do the benches.

Sandy paths to the beach beckon.

When the sun does appear, you might think that you are standing at the edge of the world, alone with nature.

Unless you turn around, and take a picture of the other side of the boardwalk.

What a contrast!

I walk inside the casinos to warm up, and because I love to look at the machines and the glitz.

And I found the most amazing slot machine!

I kind of wish I had played the Van Gogh, but I had already put my money into the Three Stooges machine, where I had (amazingly) won $119 - and if I win I stop playing. (It's the only way to keep the money.)

The outer wall of Resorts Casino features handprints of celebrities from 20-30 years ago.

I had breakfast at Johnny Rockets, where the jukebox in the booth tempts diners with many great songs.

One of the songs the little jukebox offers is (of course) Under the Boardwalk, by the Drifters, ranked #487 on Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Songs of All Time.

Which makes me wonder, when I'm back outside, what is under the boardwalk?

Yuck - perhaps some sections look better.

Better to look up than down, and admire the sun now fully illuminating this chilly day. Thank you for your kindness, Brother Sun.

Obama and Palin in Riverdale

Omigosh this week is going by quickly. It's as though time has suddenly speeded up.

Monday evening I had dinner with friends Jay and Janet, as I do every few months. Both were colleagues at Lippincott. We went to Tria, where the food is good and the ambiance is very dark - we couldn't see the menu without help from a flashlight or a smartphone light.

I had the butternut squash appetizer and a tuna sandwich.

On the walk back to the train station, I enjoyed noticing the narrow Philadelphia alleys decorated for the holidays. Some are so narrow that they are suitable only for pedestrians or carts. The night was balmy (for December), and people were visiting on their back steps, or walking dogs in the alleys (although you can't see any people in this photo).

Some of the sidewalk vents have been outfitted with pipes so that the steam rises above the heads of pedestrians. It lends a spooky atmosphere to the sidewalk outside Finn McCool's.

I had about a half hour at Market East before the train, so I admired the stuff for sale at Claire's. For example, all the tiaras a girl could want.

And extravagantly lush peace sign earrings.

Tim picked me up at the train station, and we went to the local comic store to look for a Christmas present. I had never yet been in this store, and it was very cool.

They have superhero banks.

And Captain Kirk.

And it looks as though Archie is still a cheerful high school student in 2011!

Ready for the weekend

First of three holiday parties at work today. It was fun, and a nice break.

Here's one section of the dessert tables. One small section.

Yes, I ate too much and later slept briefly but hard on the train ride home. But I also got a lot of work done, which feels great.

The tree is up at 30th Street Station.

And there is a wonderful full moon tonight.

Good night.

Sleeping hard

I do not experience insomnia very often, but I'm certainly up early this morning, and it's too late to go back to bed.

This is what insomnia looks like to me:

Soft-boiled eggs, with a generous dollop of butter. Usually a little softer than the ones pictured above, which I ate about fifteen minutes ago. (You can see a bit of the chipped Sheinhardt Wig Company logo on the coffee mug I bought at the NBC store in New York City.)

When I wake up at night and can't get back to sleep, I usually boil a couple of eggs. Because I can't do this in a hotel room, insomnia in hotels is tough.

Not sure why I couldn't sleep. One reason might be that I am thinking about a couple students who are failing the Basic English class I'm teaching, and feeling sorry for them, and angry about the grade schools and high schools they attended. For what are no doubt complex reasons, these people came through the system with extremely low skills and extremely unrealistic hopes. I can't fix this, but wish I could. I also wish that so many people were not convinced that a college degree is the magic key to a wonderful life.

Ah well. I'm not awake because I'm excited about the holiday party at work today - one of three work parties we have this time every year. A free lunch is nice, sure - but not nice enough to wake me up.

Whatever the reason I am awake now, I predict that I will be sleepy on the train ride back to Willow Grove this evening. This happens even on days when I've slept well the night before (meaning most days). 

But it's an odd kind of sleep, sleeping on the train. Lots of people do it, on both the morning and evening commute. Many of them look as though they are thinking about a tough problem while they sleep, heads slightly bent, lips tightly pursed, frowning. I think this might be because they (we) are in an odd sleep state, part of our consciousness keeping track of the train's progress while another part is dreaming.

And boy, do I dream on the train. I have brief, vivid dreams, which I seem to slip into almost immediately, and which vanish just as quickly when the train gets to my station. It's very unlike the normal nightly ritual of drifting off to unconsciousness, which is so easy and pleasant that I truly look forward to it every night. In fact, I often try to be aware of when the shift from waking state to sleep state arrives - it is so nice, a little delightful aaahhh moment, a gift at the end of each day.

Sleeping on the train is nothing like that, perhaps because a person sitting on a train cannot relax his or her body as thoroughly as in bed. Sleeping on the train is hard sleep; it feels like a task. The dreams often seem like puzzles I need to solve, strange pointless puzzles. It is not refreshing.

So I'll probably be doing that this evening between five and six - sleeping hard, my mind creating weird scenarios that keep it poised in a strange place where I am aware of the station stops and the time but also in some other virtual reality.

At least I know that I will be thoroughly fortified for the work, what with the eggs this morning and the party food in the afternoon.

You know you love it

Busy day, good day. Things are heating up with the online class - final portfolios are due at the end of this week, and students are in panic mode. Since this is an online class, some students thought they could pretty much drop out for several weeks, and then turn everything in at the end. It doesn't work that way, but I do feel their pain. I am looking forward to teaching this class again for Winter quarter, because I have learned so much, and I know that I can do a better job next time. (Another reason I'm very sympathetic with this crop of students - in many ways they had a rookie teacher, and I now see ways that I could have helped or motivated them better.)

All that is explanation for why I got up early and critiqued and graded and sent out essays for a couple of hours in the early hours of the morning, before hopping on the train into Philadelphia.

At my regular, real, full-time job this was also a very busy day. I spent a few hours at Center City Video, getting my first look at the video we have been working on for several months now. I found some things that need editing, which felt good - earning my keep.

I wanted to take some photos of the editing studios, which are filled with fascinating equipment, but every single one was being used. Across the hall from our room I could hear bits of a video that seemed to be about how to build your own violin.

I did get a shot of an office featuring lots of awards - naturally, there are awards for commercial and educational videos. It's not the Grammys or the Emmys, but it's still creative work, and this looks like the office of a creative person, no?

Since I was in the area, I walked over to the Korean cafe that I frequented often when I was an editor at Lippincott. We called it Food by the Pound, because you just picked up a plastic container and filled it with whatever looked good - everything was weighed at check-out, and everything cost the same per pound.

A group of us had a tradition of having lunch there every Thursday. It was inexpensive and editors could bring their own bag lunch if they wanted/needed to, which was great because our salaries were very modest. How many places let you sit down to eat if you don't even buy their food?

But I like their food -- I like getting a varied selection of this and that.

Before heading back to the office on the subway, I stopped by Christmas Village, the annual encampment of booths selling all kinds of interesting stuff every December. But today I didn't shop. I admired the Kraft Big Noodle Sculpture.

I took heed of the advice at the base of the sculpture.

Back to the office. Meetings and emails and phone calls and boy, I'm glad to have a job. I do love it.

Two cups

You don't have to be sick to enjoy a cup of ginger tea with honey. It's the perfect drink on a slightly chilly night, like tonight.

Which reminds me, I recovered the photos from my visit to La Colombe cafe with my son and his friends.

The dinosaur meets the dragon

Yesterday the sky was cloudy and portentous as I walked to the train station after work. It darkened amazingly quickly. When I stepped out onto the street on 38th Street, it was cloudy but light.

Just a few blocks later, darker. The banner in the photo below reads "The Dinosaur Meets the Dragon" - a reference to a collaboration between the Franklin Institute and Drexel University.

The golden sculpture in front of the Monell Center broods as people hurry by, on their way to catch trains, buses, trolleys, and subway cars.

By the time I arrived in Willow Grove, of course, it was quite dark. Usually Tim picks me up at the station, but last night he couldn't, so I walked home. It was a nice evening for a walk, and I especially liked the way this little paving company looked in the dark.

All that mysterious equipment, evidence of hard physical work. I'm glad we have roads and driveways, and I'm also glad that I don't have to repair them.

And those trucks!

Serious trucks for serious work. It may not be apparent from the photo, but these trucks are enormous - anyone except a giant would have to step up - way up - to get into the cabs. The grill of the truck in back is taller than I am.

This worksite is almost invisible during the day, easily overlooked - but at night, with just one light illuminating the stuff, it is somehow more noticeable, and much more scary.

Though really, it's just an ordinary walk home - takes about 40 minutes, and most of it is just plain old suburbia. The paving company makes a nice contrast.

And back to the comforts of home.