The Blog that wasn't supposed to be -- Day 1: bad language, bad help, and we're swamped :)

 Yes, gang, here we are again, with the first of many (I'm sure too many for some of you) blogs from this, the BIGGEST TRIP EVER!!!!  (no, no hyperbole at all) [there wasn't going to be a blog yet, but a lot happened and I had time tonight...]

Here's the Wikipedia Quick Facts:  8 of us are just outside Inverness, Scotland (if you're not keen on Scottish geography, it is WAY up north, and is the capital of the Highlands).  We are here to play golf, with 4 going home to Texas after 12 days, the 4 OGs going back to Scotland for 2 rounds outside Edinburgh, then RR and I meet K in London to start almost 2 weeks of "cultural" vacation -- London, France, Brussels, and Amsterdam. 

Who's along? For this part with start with the usual suspects: myself, my son (known as KG), my two brother-in-laws (known as Dbrolaw and B), my college friend RR (from the May trip), and three of KG's buddies from the Dallas area (for these purposes) -- G-man (his nickname from the Bandon trip 5 years ago), Z, and Vlad, a nickname so inside I'm the only one who understands it.  They'll distinguish themselves as the 12 days go by. 

I did the travel agent stuff for the trip, so am responsible for the accommodations -- though I asked for input and generally got shrugs of disinterest.  This first place is a manor house, replete with suits of armor in the front foyer. 

It's a banger! 

How many places have armor on the first floor landing (and a grandfather clock)?

The place has six bedrooms and five baths and Paul, the proprietor, has been renovating it for 15 years.  He's a bit of a character. 

But here you go, classic Steve travel story one: the place is a bit out in the country (it also has its own fishing rights on the River Nairn, which some advantage will be taken and I used the "get directions" link on their airbnb page to get us here from the airport (we'll come back to that...) I made what turned out to be the right right-hand turn off the motorway (A9 for those counting at home) and are immediately in a little village (it doesn't even have a pub, unlike the place 4 years ago in Ireland :)) 

I end up turning around in the middle of the village and try again, and now it takes us across the A9 (remember, I'm driving on the "wrong side of the road" trying to cross the superhighway) and down a lane that didn't hold two cars at once -- you had to dive in dive spots.  Coming back, a bus came crashing towards us and I found a spot to dive and survive into. 

Anyway,  the map took us to a gate with a sign on it that said, no shit! "This is not the Airbnb! This is a private home.  Don't open the gate and come in!" :). B said "if you're going to say you aren't the Airbnb, can't you tell us where it is?"  Fair point. 

The next iteration -- were we now trying Apple Maps? -- fyi, Db asked the guy at Enterprise which worked best and he said both were equally awful locally. :) -- sent me across the A9, up a muddy track.  At the top there was a turn, and a gate straight ahead.  I ended up calling Paul and he told me to come in the gate and we were there.  

Paul was dressed like Mick Fleetwood regaled in purple velvet.  And he'd done the tour thing 100s of times -- he went through everything so fast the four of us couldn't keep track of it all.  :) He was also wearing a purple velvet hat.   

The other thing that impressed us is there's a 1930s phone in the ground floor community room (there's one on the first floor, too) and it is live and calls him directly if you pick it up!  Neat trick.  Probably good idea. 

While we were doing this, the other four took the van (we have a seven-passenger van and a large Mercedes SUV -- when we get all the suitcases and clubs together, it's A LOT!) and went to Nairn Golf Club, which is like 15 minutes in the opposite direction from the airpo

Db, the designated van driver, whips into the course and they are all wondering "where's the water?"  and the clubhouse was less than they expected.  They go in and say "we're here to pick up our clubs" and the guy (alone) in the shop says "what clubs?"  "WE have 8 sets of clubs shipped here."  I guess the guy looked around and said "I think I'd know if I had 8 sets of clubs show up."  They were at Nairn Dunbar GC, not Nairn Nairn GC. :) :) :). 

They eventually found the right place and one worker didn't want to go get them, but sent them upstairs for a drink and to look at their archives (it's a modestly famous course in the UK).  They got them (if you wonder why we'd both, you would have to know golfers and their equipment...it's a thing). 

Okay, back tracking, here are some quick hitter stories:

• The plane from London to Inverness (which so far is lovely, there's a picture of their castle) was full of school children going on a trip.  Two sat next to me, and two in the outside two seats for several rows.  I'd say I taught them a new word, but one of them who sat next to KG dropped it more often than most people say "the." :).  He and his row companion were busted before we ever took off and a couple times thereafter. :). Youths. 🤷   The ruggers were very noisy. ):
• In logistics problem 1001, the driver who was supposed to pick of the 4 Texans and B was late.  And showed up in wrong spot.  And never flashed the card with my name on.  And then got lost on the way between airports (he's never done this before?!?!?!  WTF?!?!?).  I was told he got no tip! 
• While the driver wasn't showing up, B was texting, asking where he was supposed to be :). Db sent a picture of KG, myself, B and him from 3 summers ago and said "guess who is who" and I said "B is the one who doesn't read the material." :) [I thought it was funny]
• In a moment of !@#$%^&*() I checked in as Z for the flight to Inverness -- I had all 8 tickets in my Apple Wallet and didn't know it and didn't look.  Z, the last one to try to check in, was cutoff.  Eventually someone figured it out, but he said he was scared...
• and the early winner: RR and I were on the shuttle to the airport Thursday night and a whole group of United pilots got on.  So I asked them what the message to Db meant -- he was told a day ahead that his flight was going to be 3 hours late.  They said it was definitely (he changed flights and it worked out well) a red flag.  But then the one I asked said, "whew! I thought you were going to ask the question that is asked frequently". "Which is?"  "Are there aliens?"  We chuckled and talked about it.  It seems that is closely followed by "is it flat or round."  Discussion of water falling off the edges :).  People!

I"m sure I'm missing several, but that's enough of an opener.  Everyone has crashed early, since 6 of us (not RR and myself) "slept" on the plane last night from the States. 

I finish with this the food porn du jour -- fish and chips from the Castle Tavern, right above the River Ness in downtown Inverness -- five people ordered it and all raved, as you might imagine. 

Which brings us to the title: we were outside and had trouble getting even that table.  When the fish and chips came there was an immediate desire more tartar sauce (as you might see from the pic).  When we finally got our wait staff's attention, we were told "we're too swamped to get out anymore..."  We did eventually get another (small) bowlful.  

And, final food porn (there'll be golf porn tomorrow), RR's pancakes this morning at Bill's in London

NB I have left out a series of NSFW, or not safe for ANYTHING!, jokes told early today.  B says it wasn't his best material, bc you don't use it on the first day. 😂

What Happens in Vermont...Nothing!

[editor's note: I'm supposed to make the record accurate by saying that K's aunt isn't 85, as maybe reported in a previous blog. She's ONLY 79. 😂 ]

So, we have been here two days.  We are done. 

I'll say this about Vermont: nobody has ever raved about its fast-pace.  Including me. 

Here we go:

After breakfast at the bagel place, .2 mile from our lodging, the historic Middlebury Inn (which has been fine and geographically convenient), we went and picked up Aunt Em.  Who said she'd show us the way "around the mountains" (discussions of what constitutes a mountain will wait for another day). 

I will summarize this way: we ended up on multiple dirt roads (I didn't know they really existed anymore), one that said "road blockaded ahead" (it wasn't), wondered through a ski resort's timeshare condos to the point where we came to a dead end. I mean, dead.  Had to do a 3-point turn around. 

I was not allowed to use Google maps until she was lost in the ski resort.  Then we were okay. 

It's lovely country.  Reminds us of home in Pennsylvania -- rolling hills, farms, trees, and some small mountains nearby.  Of course the weather here sucks worse in the winter. 

Our first stop was in Warren.  I couldn't find it again on a map.  We went into a hippie shop, run by a woman who might be called Rita, who had flaming fake red hair, and was 73 (she told us so).  Rita told this joke (you know, we were old pals after 3 minutes); if the man is in the woods alone, without a woman, is he still wrong?  She said the obvious answer is yes.  Laugh if you dare. 

We have stopped at at least 4 country stores, the theme of the trip like Christmas markets were on the trip to France in January, and eaten ice cream in many.  Here they call soft serve "creemee" and even have a Vermont creemee passport (I know my friend from Carlisle will be interested 😂).  K is in love with maple creemee, something you don't get back home (she likes maple more than chocolate! Sacrilege!)

We ended up at dinner at the Waybury Inn, which is where they shot the exteriors for the Bob Newhart Show.  You know. the one with "my brother Darryl, and my other brother Darryl."  Darryl and Darryl lived near there.  

The food was excellent.  

Vietnamese salmon (not actually brought in from Vietnam)

Spare ribs (we decided pigs have extra 😂)

Then, back to the hotel. 

This morning we found a "real" breakfast place (for two, $50, without cocktails!!! 😡) over near campus (Middlebury College, Carlisle-guy :))...the french toast, on Texas toast, was worth the photo. 

And, yes, it was real maple syrup.  Where do you think we are, Bloomsburg?!?! 😂

On the way north, we stopped at Beau Ties.  If you don't know their stuff, well, I'm not surprised.  We were told they made a lot of money in masks in the pandemic.  Here's our new friend Liz from there --

Liz growled pleasantly to let you know you weren't petting her enough. :). It was kinda cute. 

Then off to a place I'd never heard of: Shelburne Museum. 

The woman who put the museum together, her name was Electra and her family made their money in sugar and railroads.  She must have had a lot of money.  There are 39 buildings on the campus, and 25 have been moved there.  The first was a one-room schoolhouse.  

The most impressive is the ship that sits in about the center of the 40+ acres.  It is the SS Ticonderoga (or just "Ti" to the locals), which is one of few side-paddle steamboats.  There was a movie about how they drug it from Lake Champlain to the site, which took 60+ days and a lot of moving of rails.  It's an amazing site. 

The museum was full of folk art, which isn't my thing.  But I did like the quilt exhibit, which made one wonder -- the one supposedly had 769 triangles.  It felt like math to me. ):

Then to the village of Shelburne, where we found...a country store!!!  Stunning.  The pic of the maple creemee is from there.  The title comes from K laughing at a magnet in there; it said "what happens in Vermont, stays in Vermont, but nothing happens in Vermont."  😂. She bought it, some maple sugar, some maple candy, and like a ten gallon thing of maple syrup (slight exaggeration).  But she likes maple. 

We then tried to find Lake Champlain on the way back and didn't so much fail as never got to a spot where there was a good money shot.  It is a big lake, some 600 feet deep at some points. 

Hotel, nap, clean up, and back to get Auntie Em for final dinner.  Indian.  Here are pics: we had their original/classic, korma and (the bright red one) tikki marsala.  

There was a cookie store "one minute away" walking, acc to "the google."  

Here's what I had -- their "lovewich."  It's a butterscotch and chocolate chip cookie.  Fresh made. 

And, that, my friends, is about it.  We go home tomorrow.  Rah effin' rah. 

I go home to begin practice packing for my next trip -- "our" next trip -- when we go on the BIG TRIP to Europe.  28 days.  Six countries.  10 rounds of golf.  I've lost track of how many airbnbs, hotel rooms, and cars rented.  Like the years we've been married -- alot.

Till then.  

North to Vermont

Hi everyone --

I wonder if you were ready for some more blogging.  Probably not. Then ignore this. 😀 

I wasn't sure there'd be anything blog-worthy right off on this trip, but here we are.

Let's start with yesterday, as we drove north from Bloomsburg and stopped for a quick sandwich before our 2:30 appointment at Ravines Tasting Room outside Geneva. 

It was supposed to be an ice cream stop (we ARE on something like vacation), but K wanted "protein" (you don't think ice cream has protein?!?!?), so we ended up splitting a sandwich. 

In a tale as old as time (or us olds think fairly new, bc "back in the day" you got better service), even though they were told NOT to put mayonaise on our chicken and ham wrap, it had mayo on it (I got extra to put on my half).  K gagged after the first bite and had to send it back; they made another. 

We decided part of it was a language problem: the young person at the check-in spot spoke fluent Amish, and softly, so we neither knew half of what she was saying.  I must have said "excuse me" three times just to make the sandwich order.  I realized it was partially the accent -- She told the guy behind me that she'd be back "shirtly" -- which isn't quite as good as the "don't call me shirley" joke, but it has potential. 😂

To Ravines.  The server had been there three years, and to K's delight, talked incessantly.  She didn't exactly pull the Miles from Sideways "latent notes of broccoli" thing, but she came very, very close.  And we found out she was from Brooklyn.  I know where she drank on Friday.  I know she prefers the Sauvignon Blanc to the Riesling, and thinks Chenin Blanc is wonderful.  She's been to Paris with...

You get the picture.  I wish I had filmed it. 

Then to Scout Winery.  Yes, that's really their name.  The server at Ravines is a member of their wine club (bc I know by now you want to know this).  The server there, the wife? of the wine-maker, was more sedate.  I don't think she ever mentioned broccoli, though I think she mentioned pineapple notes (we're in effin upstate New York, where the F do you think you are getting pineapple notes from??!/11? the can in the kitchen?!?!!?).  But I know she went to Hobart and Smith rather than Middlebury (one wonders) and her partner is the only one she knows of working in gamay.  It's a grape, if you don't know.  

Okay, here's the best part of the weekend, so far: we get to the B&B and I immediately realize I don't have my toiletry bag.  Never got it out of the bathroom.  Forgot all about it.  We are 3+ hours from home and today we were going in the exact opposite direction from home (almost due north v. almost due south).  Can I live without my meds for 4 days?  K says she didn't want to see me try. 

We went to dinner.  We scheduled this place on Friday bc...well, it's a funny story.  K found a place, I said ok, then...Tuesday I said "did you make a reservation?" and she said no.  Friday I said "did you make a reservation?" and she said no.  Why not?  I wasn't sure you approved.  "What do you think 'did you make a reservation' means?"  Well...I said "what do I have to do to make you think I approve?" "Make the reservation." ROFL. 😂😂

They had no reservations left.  So I found a place about 20 minutes from the hotel that was supposedly 4. 7 stars on Open Table with a lake view.  We get there and I look around from the parking lot.  Where's the lake?  No lake. 

We get inside and it's like a sports bar.  There are like 5 TV screens going -- a couple supersized -- in the dining room in which we were seated.  

Did I mention that this is our anniversary dinner?  The official answer to "how many" is either "nonya" or "a lot" (maybe all one word).  

So. 

But the food was pretty good and the wait person was very good -- attentive and the right amount of patter. 

Here's the food porn:

Bacon-wrapped scallops

Filet mignon. 

Prime rib.

[We don't get a lot of beef at home]

We were stuffed -- no dessert. 

Back to B&B, bed, sleep, indigestion, yaddity, yaddity, ya

Breakfast at the B&B was egg casserole loaded with sausage.  Not a sausage fan.  With a side of two strips of bacon.  In case your arteries weren't clogging fast enough.  I ate the bacon.  I was told it was worth noting that the casserole was made with biscuits.  Okay. 🤷. And the fruit cup had a "cream" in it that the host told us, way too proudly, that it was made of Cool Whip (do you hear Stewie from Family Guy saying it? 😂) and vanilla pudding.  Try to think of it as tasty.  😡

At this point you may be wondering what happened with the toiletry bag.  Well, K wants full credit for this idea: I called the appropriate pharmacy in Elmira -- the closest one to us -- which opened at 9, where the equivalent one in Bloomsburg didn't open till 10 -- and asked what they could do.  First she said I didn't have a prescription to fill, so she couldn't do anything.  Then she relented and said she'd give me 5 of what I needed when I showed up.  I thanked her profusely.

Bottom line is I got my meds with about a 3 hour detour, as opposed to a 6 hour one.  All is well. 

[It's tough being old]

We got to Middlebury, our final destination, in time for dinner, which I won't repeat because it wasn't not worthy.  WE'll hope for better in the next couple days. 

And, if you are wondering, K's aunt lives outside of town.  We've never been here to visit.  She's like 85, though still really spry.  So...

Note: it's supposed to rain most of the next two days.  Ah, well...

Till tomorrow. 

Two Beach Days (and...food porn)

 Hey y'all,

It is Thursday, the day before the last day, and there's stuff to catch up on. 

Let's start with yesterday morning when I hit the local (it's .3 of a mile) donut joint, the Fractured Prune (is that really a good name for anything?!?!?).  Here's the photo of the box:

And then to the beach. 

It was like this:

(is dad having fun there? One wonders)

As we sat there a woman wondered in with her young son and sat down in front of us.  She was soon followed by what my mother would have called the mongrel horde (a play on Mongol, but maybe just a spoonerism).  I could not keep track of exactly how many there were (8? 10?) but they were with the first woman and child.  Here is why it was notable: half of them had red hair.  I kid you not.  That gene runs strong in their family (in Star Wars voice).  The second thing was the two "moms" were participating in a "I want to be the tattooed lady at the fair" competition. :). Both had leg sleeves.  Both had arm sleeves, but the one seemed to have tats from ankle to neck on the one side.  Not surprisingly, when what I took as their mom showed up, the last to arrive, she had a couple smaller tats on her.  The ink industry did well from that group. 

Then back to the cottage for rest and showers before dinner. 

BTW, coming back from the donut shop I heard the neighbor on his porch ranting about downtrodden white men.  Part of the rant started "ever since Obama came and stirred things up..."  I hurried inside, knowing we weren't going to be besties.  :)

K asked for a place on the water one night for dinner and this was it.  The Lighthouse was delightful, starting with this view. 

And here's the food:

This was the empanada app.  They were a bit spicy.  We discussed whether the pastry was quite right, but...

I had the filet (and so did EH) that was covered with scallion butter.  

K had the pork chop, which she really liked. 

We were waited on by Stephen, who was not young (we couldn't agree on his age, somewhere over 60, easily).  In the end, we were the only ones there.  So, he chatted.  A lot.  Showed pictures of his kids, one of whom served in Afghanistan and was wounded.  He had to tell why his name was Stephen and I, of course, had to tell him about my being Stephen (we were both named after the saint in the Bible) was my mother's second choice.  He asked if I saw a lot of red for my birthday.  Funny guy.  

Today began with a walk over to the Decatur Diner for breakfast.  It is a lot less than .3 of a mile away.  We were disappointed since one reviewer said it was the best crab benedict they'd ever had.  How many crab benedicts do we think they'd had? 🤔  Neither of us tried it, but my cinnamon raisin French toast was a bust (not soaked enough in the batter) and K's biscuits and gravy didn't have much sausage.  A bust.  Worst meal of the trip (knock wood)

To the beach. Another nice day.  EH and I took a mid-fry break to get an ice cream at Dumser's on the boardwalk. There are like 10 Dumser's Dairyland stores around here, and two across from each other on the boardwalk.  We approved of our shakes, which counted as lunch.  :)

Then back, nap, shower, yada di yada di...

Dinner, after some "discussion", was at Pancho and Lefty's.  They claimed to the "authentic Mexican."  How does one define that?  Well, they did make guacamole at the table.  And they had a nice assortment on the menu. 

Desert bloom margarita.  

EH had the quesadilla.

K had the "three amigos" -- a steak chimi, a chicken taco, and beef chalupa. 

Chicken burrito. 

Then we went to the boardwalk for a walk.   It was a bit chilly, with a strong breeze, and there were A LOT of people.  Given how empty the beach has been, it was rather surprising. 

It is amazing there are so many ice cream joints.  And how many burger and popcorn joints.  And tee shirt joints.  Not exactly a diverse business environment.  

Now back to watch the US soccer team try to win their third straight game.  Go USA!  

Till next time...

Escaping to? Berlin

 Hi folks,

The thing about a beach vacation is that, if you just go to the beach every day, there's not much to tell. 

Fortunately today our weather maven, K, thought it was not a good beach day (she wasn't wrong), so we spent the afternoon in Berlin, MD.  Did you know it was named the best small town in America?  Neither did I.

Though one wonders how such things are determined, I know it is a contender if the main criteria is the number of shops selling...okay, "stuff no one really needs."  The one place was full of pottery, another was a wine shop with other things (like duffle bags?), the one place had cool men's clothes, with a motorcycle in the middle of it, and...well, I lost track.  Ad infinitum to spend time wondering and saying "really?!?!?!" 

I took one picture that doesn't do the place justice, but it'll have to do as this blog's thumbnail, etc. 

There were multiple bakeries and we chose what we decided was the wrong one -- none of us was thrilled by what we ordered ):  but, then, again, we were having fresh baked goods on a Tuesday afternoon. 

Back to the cottage in a major rain storm (we've gotten a couple inches in the last 24 hours) to watch England NOT win their match with Ghana.  We hear a witch doctor in Ghana hexed Harry Kane.  But just for this game! 🤣

K found the dinner spot, which was less than a mile away and Italian.  She had the lasagna --

EH had the gnocchi with vodka sauce.

And I had the margherita pizza.  (they had an open oven where we could watch the guy singe his facial hair putting the pizzas in)

And they had the tiramisu. 

****

In case you are keeping track (and I know some of you are), yesterday morning we did go to the beach.  It was lovely, though there had been predictions of high winds.  It got close to that as we left around 1:30, but up till then it was in the high 70s and a mix of cloud and sun.  The water is 72 degrees, which isn't as warm as you'd think it was.

We had dinner at another local place, the Shrimp Boat, who runs a fresh shrimp stand on the road with the eatery on the side. 

It was the second consecutive night of "local atmosphere", eating off picnic tables, this time with packagin paper as a table cloth, and the interesting flatware in a paper sleeve approach.  And a roll of paper towels for napkins.  

But the food, though not inexpensive, was good.  

K got the wait staff recommended stuffed flounder

(though I wonder if that is really imperial sauce on it)

And EH had the crabcake dinner. (I had the cc sammy)

This was followed by a round of miniature golf -- a longstanding family beach vacay tradition -- which included several holes in one.  Including one we counted as a hole-in-one as EH, using the patented Happy Gilmore swing, bounced one off the course and into a waste basket sitting next to the next tee. 🤣🤣🤣

And back to our favorite cottage (a quick Booking.com check had it full next week here and the next week you could get one unit, that's all that was left, for $2,700 for the week...a bargain at twice the price! 🤣) to sit through a horrendous thunderstorm.  ):  

There was a discussion at dinner about coming back.  I said no (see the last blog), they said "it's not that bad."  I repeated the "they'll need Temperance Brennan (star of the book we are listening to on the ride) to determine what happened to me that I'm dead on the sofa" because it is too low and has a "lower back support" that only means you sit in a curled position.  They talked about maybe coming back and staying. 🙄. The beach is nice enough, and the town, but we won't be staying in the cottage that amenities forgot. 

Till my next inspiration (and the next two days at the beach may not provide it)...

A week at the Beach (starting FD)

  Hello Everyone,

It's that time of year: we're at the beach! (Okay, beach should be in quotation marks since there is no real sign of sand and surf where we are staying, but it's the thought that counts, right?)

We drove down yesterday.  It was 4 and a half hours from Bloomsburg; we are staying near Ocean City, Maryland, (not the other one) -- the rental says it is in Berlin, which has been publicized as a wonderful, quaint small town, but we are really 9 miles from there.  Yes, it's confusing.

Anyway, about the rental unit.  We were not surprised by the abstract, but the concrete, on the ground has been eye-opening.

You may remember that we stayed last May in a "Caravan" (Br. for trailer) in Cornwall and really liked it.

Well, this place is a cottage (MD for trailer, maybe "near" a beach) that is essentially a double-wide trailer.  It's moderately nice as such things go, but we've decided it's not as big or nice as the one in Cornwall.

First, there's no half bath, which is important when there are 3 of us. 

Second, the bedrooms are so small -- how small are they? -- you can't turn around in them.  

Third, there's a serious lack of amenities.  The place sleeps six (there's a pullout sofa) but there are only 4 bowls, 4 plates, 4 coffee cups, and minimal cutlery.  There are only four seats at the table out on the porch (there's not room for said table anywhere inside).  One wonders what a group of six would do.  Actually, I keep trying NOT to think.  Gives me the eeby-jeebies.

Fourth, there is no dishwasher, washer/dryer OR oven!!!! No, no oven.  A two hob stove.  You are purportedly supposed to cook here, but there's not much in the way of how. 

I had to go to the Food Lion (which isn't a mile away, thankfully, there's lots of eateries nearby) to get: salt and pepper (there wasn't a single staple in the place), a measuring cup, a strainer, and a cheese grater.  That was all to make jarred spaghetti for dinner last night. 

The "main" bedroom (which is the one without a bunk bed above the headboard) has a closet in it that's locked and takes about 1/4 of the square footage.  There is literally nowhere to hang clothes, except for some hooks on the wall.  Old school.  F hangers!  

Other than that, Mrs Lincoln,...we'll survive.  But it ain't glamping. (I'll leave the picture till the end)

Today, we went to the beach.  It was nice.  Both the weather and the beach itself were just right -- though the sand when we got there was too hot to walk on.  Here's the money shot:

Now, let's do a "food porn back track."

On the way down we stopped and had "brunch" (lunch?) at First Watch in Christiana, Delaware.  Back in the day, K and I used to hang there. BK, as they say.  There was no First Watch there then, of course. 

We all got something Mexican for brunch.  Here's the trio:

Barbacoa breakfast tacos (mine)

Barbacoa chiliquiles (K)

Steak and queso hash (EH's)

We ate dinner "in."  As you have heard.

But one joy of this place is there is an ice cream place 129 feet (acc to Google) from our cottage.  We went there last night.  It was acceptable. I got a loyalty card (not that it is a commitment, since there are 5 other ice cream places between here and the today's beach, 1.5 miles away). 

This morning we went out for Father's Day.  There was a place with a respectable rating .3 of a mile from the cottage.  Called Surfside Rooster.  I can't make it make sense. :)

Here's that ensemble:

Their standard bennie and...

Their Nashville hot chicken bennie.  (I had an omelet)

And, oh, yes, their signature cinnamon roll --

It was definitely a sugar delivery system.  😂

And, then, for dinner tonight we went to Smoker's BBQ Pit, which is about .4 from the cottage.  I was asked as we pulled in if I had read the reviews. 😂🤣  It turned out to be quite adequate -- though we are spoiled by the pit in Spring (TX).  Here are the requisite photos:

Obviously, ribs. 

The 3 meat platter, brisket (nearest), chicken (farthest top left), and pork.  

No one claimed the brisket was to die for.  It was a funny Tweet today that Europeans disliked America and then they discovered brisket. 😀

And that's the first two days.  There are plans, especially as there are calls for rain several days.  We might even go up in the Ferris wheel!  Woo wee!  

But, till there's something else worth blogging, I bid you howdy. 

A Mammoth clown show

Today we played Mammoth Dunes golf course.  The logo is brill, as they say --

It was designed by one of the hot new(er) things in golf architecture, David McLay Kidd (famous for courses at Bandon Dunes, Oregon, see blog in 2021).

We were warned that it was named Mammoth both so they could use the logo, but also as a testament to its size.  

The last green was the size of half a football field (yes, that's huge for a golf green).

I'm going with one picture so you can have an idea of the size of the place -- 

But it was crazy shit.  When you are told "don't look at that flag, but look fifty yards left and hit it there because there's bank..." and, of course, our man Tim was right, but...

And putting.  First, Tim said the greens were unfair today.  The starter said they were at 12, which was faster than they wanted them, but they hadn't cooperated this spring.  They were slicker than snot sometimes.  

And you had to putt through the clown face.  A lot.  "Up this bank, down, and back..." Tim would say.  "you can't go straight at it but you can bend it..."

It was either really fun (not really), or really ugly and frustrated (a bunch).  

But I started with a winner -- I told the starter, Tim and RR the "tip the caddy" story from St. Andrews ten years ago.  It is JBroLaw fav. 😂  The starter said he was going to laugh all afternoon about that one. 😂😂😂

We had a couple moments on the back nine.  First, I used the bank on a short par 3 (#13) and hit the ball to 3 feet.  And made the putt.  After we both didn't birdie the driveable 14, RR nailed two shots on 15 and had 5 feet for eagle on the par 5.  He didn't make it, but a tap in birdie was good.  His first of the week (I should say "too" since that one on 13 was my first).  But those were nice highlights. 

On the next tee, Tim (our caddy, remember from two days ago?) says this is a bit confusing and he'd had one player stand looking the wrong way and Tim told him it was a long carry. 😂. Eventually he told the guy to turn around and "Oh!"   Haha.

OC, I had to tell the story from February when our playing companion hit to the wrong hole from the fairway at Spanish Bay.  Then I had to tell Tim the fuji-ki joke (RR said he'd heard it not too long ago), which he really liked.  I told him if he used he owed me a dollar.  He said next time he saw me he'd probably owe me 10 or 15 dollars.  😂

We finished 18, both old men still moving, without noticeable injuries, and having rather enjoyed ourselves for several days, despite the millions of steps. 

Let's go back.  We started the day by going next door and having breakfast at Romano's. (Let me say that it's sort of a Steve coda to not eat breakfast at a pizza place, but it was right next door...) We were literally literally (I had people like that one from the last blog 😁) the only people in the place.  We sat at the bar and eventually a guy came out from the back to wait on us.  He was about as Wisconsin sluggo as you could be -- ball cap, beard, Romano's tee, jeans that hung too low.  And he was a winner for personality.  "How you doing?"  "Terrible.  All this work to do..." and went in the back.  RR told me to not try anymore repartee. 😂. "It seems somebody didn't show up."   After grumpy had taken our orders, a woman came in, put her purse on the bar and looked through it, then went into the back and reappeared as our wait person.  Ah, the missing person who was causing grumpy to deal with us, along with the many other onerous tasks of his life. 

There breakfast was fine -- oversized -- and here's your prerequisite picture, my ham and cheese omelette. 

Dinner was nachos (which were huge) over drinks after round.  My phone was dead and RR's was in his golf bag, so no pic. ):

****

Yesterday started earlier than the other days -- we had a 1030 tee time.  At Sedge Valley, so we all remember if any of us ever need to.  They had "grab and go breakfast", so RR and I had breakfast sandwiches which were iffy.  The "sauce" had something spicy in it, which I wasn't ready for.  RR didn't eat half his because he doesn't like that much bread.  (yeah, we're all funny).  The best part might have been Ashley, the register person, telling us the ingredients of a Transfusion, a drink RR had never heard of till this trip. 🤷. I tried to get him to try one at the last snack shed today but he demurred. :) 

The golf yesterday was okay.  We both played a bit better, but one part of the big news was the weather.  After a first day of winds (the weather app had swirlies for the first two hours) and overcast and chill, today the sun was out and there was no wind (which golfers pretty much love).  Tim said Tuesday's wind of the usual here. 

The other memorable thing was our playing partner.  Youngish guy (remember I'm a septuagenarian) strolls up in Tom Cruise sunglasses and shorts and an untucked polo!!!  It wasn't THAT warm.  "where you from, bro?"  "Alaska."  😂😂😂

Turns out Mike was originally from Crawfordsville and RR had his Wabash hat on and he said he grew up 3 blocks from campus.  Old home week.  We all said small world.  His best friend in high school was the soon of a guy who played football when we were there and now works at the college, and, of course, RR knows.  They talked about him for a few minutes.  

He hit the ball with a grunt and he hit in high and we thought long, though he said he hit it quite a bit farther in high school, when he routinely hit it 300.  But he struggled with his wedge game, which he admiteed and lamented.  He was a wild ride to watch, going from easy-looking birdies to the one hole he played from the foliage into a large sand trap.  We, meanwhile, pretty much stayed out of the foliage, but one way or another found the sand a lot. ):

We returned to our post game routine of beers and wings at the The Clubhouse (that is it's official name0 and rested and tried to figure out how our old bones had survived. 

 Our adventure post-golf was to go to the "big city" -- Wisconsin Rapids (you are forgiven if you've never heard of it and/or can't place in on a map).  RR had never eaten at a Culver's (yes, they have them in Indy -- he doesn't get out much), so that was our goal.  He loves cheese curds (in fairness, he just loves food), and I told him about them at Culver's. 

He said they weren't much different than the ones at the restaurant the first night. :) 

And then "home" to crash early.  

Mammoth logo:

So, now, to bed and up "early" tomorrow and on the road back.  

Great trip.  Loved the facilities.  Great company.  RR has even pushed to return.  A good sign. 

Till next time...maybe during our beach trip next month.  

Manana...

PS To the comment about pizza, the restaurant at Sand Valley does pizza.  Always telling when their own wait staff tell you someplace else is better. :)