Dilly Burger c/o Dilly's Corners and Hardly-Any-Proof-Tubing

As I have mentioned, I planned to go and camp on the Delaware shore this past Sunday/Monday, but that ended in total failure. When I woke up on Monday I was determined to get the fuck (pardon me) out of dodge. So I emailed Mr. Ass and asked him if he knew of any nice swimming holes in Bucks County country. He couldn't really think of any proper swimming places but mentioned that there was always tubing. I then convinced him (with very little effort) that he should come tubing with me, and a plan was born. Before going tubing we stopped at Dilly's Corner for lunch. Mr. Ass ordered a cheesecake yogurt and coca cola float (as well as food), which I thought sounded disgusting...and I will never know if I was wrong because I did not try it. I can say that Mr. Ass seemed a little let down.
I ordered a Dilly Cheeseburger with tomato, it was delicious. Liberal with the mayo, cheesy and a nice sized patty (though lacking a little in seasoning).
Then we went tubing c/o River Country. There is no hard evidence of this, however, because I did not think it was a good idea to take the camera on the Delaware River. I sunscreened the hell out of myself and ended up not burned at all, which is a minor miracle...perhaps my ironic Gap visor (not pictured but in total effect) was the key...or spraying sunscreen on every part of me, whatever. The closest thing I have to proof is the photographs I took once we ended our two hour float. A running theme of the summer: me in my bathing suit (but hiding my gut, of course), making funny faces in a pretty setting.

So much pretty river-ness, just a little more than an hour away. Why does it take me til the end of summer to realize all I could be doing?

Above is proof that Mr. Ass was there as well...in his relaxed state. This was exactly what I needed: new places, cool water, sun, and a pal. Somehow tubing by oneself seems sad. Kind of like watching movies in a theater by oneself (which I don't really think is sad, I mean really) or sitting at a bar alone (that, too, doesn't have to be sad, though I haven't done it since I first moved to Chicago). Wait, none of that is sad per se, that was just my cultural conditioning coming out. Stupid conditioning. Sad is babies in wells or wet kittens...or the last unicorn...now that is sad.

Breakfast Before Tubing

So, Mr. Ass and I went tubing last year and whenever we met up or communicated over the summer we both agreed that it would have to be done again. To me it made perfect sense to combine my visit to M.'s with this tubing venture, and so Monday morning started with pancakes, eggs and bacon and then proceeded to tubing.
Though I am an idiot in a lot of ways, I knew better than to bring my camera with me, so proof of our three hour journey down the Delware only exists in the form of the photographs I took upon our return to the parking lot. You can't even see the gross food we ate at the 'Hot Dog Man Stand' halfway through the journey.
I'm rather proud of my use of sunscreen, as I did not experience any burning. Though my knees are definitely more freckled.
After this we all headed our separate ways. It's always sad to say gooodbyeeeeeee.
I think next year we may try to forgo paying anyone for the privilege of tubing and simply invest in tubes and drive two cars.

Breakfast and Burgers and the Fourth of July on Lake Champlain

On July Fourth I awoke before J. or K. (or J.'s additional family members who had arrived in the preceding evening). I needed to do an internetty work check in, which couldn't be done from the cabin itself, so I drove to Port Henry to take advantage of the weird glory that is parking in front of a small town library and using their wireless. A thing no one did ten years ago...though I did, at that stage, walk to a small town library and go inside to use their internet. The times, they are a'changin'. In any case after getting the work stuff out of the way I drove and took a gander at the view of the lake by a nearby church, and then decided that I'd have breakfast at the little old-school diner next to the town's grocery store. The diner does have that very quaint small town look to it, and though it's not the most iconic in terms of a longer rail road car-like set up, there was a bit of that. I made the choice of sitting at the counter, which was generally wise as I think that it had a little more character than the backroom with tables. One drawback, however, was that my feet couldn't touch the ground on the stool and there was nothing to really easily rest my feet on. This wouldn't have really been that big a deal if it wasn't for the fact that the food really did take forever and a day to actually arrive in front of me. Basically I ordered two eggs, sausage (I was told they only had Italian sausage) and home fries with a roll and then sat for about 45 minutes. The lady behind the counter was diligent in refilling my coffee cup and it wasn't an entirely unpleasant experience, but by that same measure I really had expected to be in and out in about 45 minutes, so the delay kind of cramped my style a bit. The food was good and the cook/owner came out to say hi to me once he saw a camera involved. Basically I have no ill will towards this place, but the wait wasn't entirely counterbalanced by what was a pretty unremarkable breakfast.

Then there was more swimming and sitting. I think this was the day that J.'s uncle was using his motor boat to let people go 'tubing.' I have always thought of tubing in terms of moseying down a river without a care in the world in something that, you know, actually resembles a tube. But on lakes there seems to be a completely different take on the activity....covered tube-like things at the end of a long rope attached to a power boat that drives you around in fast fun circles. I have no photographic evidence of J. and I tubing in tandem, but it was fun and I'm glad I didn't wuss out as I was thinking I might. Each bump over a wake of water was like a little roller coaster adventure, but with the knowledge that the worst that would really happen is that I would fall into the water, which was delightful in temperature. I also went out to the middle of the lake with J.'s younger cousin and enjoyed diving into the really, really deep water, which was even cooler and speckled with sunlight than the shores I kept to for most of the visit. Then the sun began to set and it was beautiful.

And I momentarily lost a hand and looked weirdly pale and bald with a comb over.

I mixed up ground beef for burgers that night, which K. was in charge of grilling to perfection. Some were "fancy" and some were "non-fancy" to appeal to those with an interest in my version of burgers (little salt and pepper, soy sauce, worcestire, garlic, cumin etc.). Turns out that J.'s family doesn't even salt and pepper their burgers usually, or that's what one of them said in any case.

J. testing out a fancy photo with his mom nearby.

K. jumping into the action too.

Three!

Yup. Cheese makes the world go round.

Then there was a period of time sitting around a fire with J.'s extended cousin network. Looking at fireworks that were being lit all over the shores of the lake north and south and east (we were on the west shore.

It was not a good year for me and taking photographs of fireworks. I'll have to try better with the next opportunity I am given.

At some point K. and I headed back towards the cabin we were staying in and ended up going back down the the lake for a night swim, which really was a wonderful experience. Floating in water and being able to see a bazillion stars (and I think the Milky Way) all while naked without a concern of anyone seeing you is pretty much a winning situation for me, and one that I would recommend to anyone who enjoys the outdoors.

And that pretty much wraps up the days I spent on Lake Champlain. It truly was a relaxing and satisfying experience. In addition to all the swimming and Catan and eating, I also read three books in quick succession, which really reminded me how much I actually love to read. I even started thinking about my novel for the first time in so long there is no point in even pointing out how long it actually has been. Not that I've actually made any progress with those notes, but I felt momentarily excited for the first time in forever.

Cranbrook Forest: A Tiny Little Trip Off-Resort

Before leaving for Jamaica, I did a fair amount of research about potential activities and restaurants off the Riu resort where we were staying. I considered horseback riding, tubing, going to Goldeneye (I think that's what it's called), and a host of other things. But in the end I thought Cranbrook Forest would give us a far better experience than Dunn River Falls (I'm sure the falls are delightful, but I don't want to climb a waterfall while holding hands with thirty other people, thanks). So we arranged through our Apple Vacation representative Pat (a very, very nice lady) for a driver (Monroe) to take us. A price was agreed upon, and a time, and off we went. Cranbrook wasn't quite what I thought it would be. But I don't know exactly what I thought it would be. Perhaps a few more more manicured presentations of flowers? A few more open expanses? Regardless of what my, or K.'s, expectations were, it was a nice change of pace from the resort. On our walk along a raging stream, we saw countless kinds of plants, a number of birds and very few people. Our walk started with a peacock.
The water was beautiful though definitely rushing.
I didn't bother photoshopping any of these photographs because they're not that good.

This reminded me of a tulip poplar kind of.
Fallen flower on the ground.
Hello giant leaf, you will protect me right?
Hummingbird. I tried to convince him it would be a better idea to land on a branch not entirely in the shade. He responded by flying away entirely.
LIZARD!
I asked Monroe what sort of bird this was, and he said Doctor Bird, which is the familiar name for Red-billed Streamertail. It, too, was very curmudgeonly about staying still so I could take a good picture.
I think we probably walked a little over a mile up into the forest before returning back. Not too strenuous, but good after a few solid days of drinking and lounging.

Bucks County Country, Part II

After the tubing we dropped by a gallery where Mr. Ass had a few paintings up (I have tried to remember the gallery's name, but cannot) so that he could varnish them. This was, I think, my first experience watching a painting be varnished. Pretty simple, I guess, but kind of crazy. I mean, why doesn't any of that paint get moved around when something liquidy is brushed on it?

After that we returned to Mr. Ass's house, where we picked basil from the garden (he picked most of it because I got too busy taking photographs).



The corn really was as high as an elephant's eye.
We then turned the basil into pesto.
And then I took a photograph that really is almost exactly the same as the one I took last summer.
While I really just wanted to sit on Mr. Ass's back porch forever, I realized that I had to get home before all the parking spaces were taken, so, reluctantly, I left.

Cayuga Lake and Surrounding Environs

The next morning I happily awoke to the sound of the lake's waters gently slapping up against the shores.There were many things that the Lake Champlain and Cayuga Lake experiences shared, which included families with long-held ties and traditions to each respective place; gossip about the other families who also owned houses around them for generations (but weren't actually family); a general population of folks who are not afraid of getting wet, diving or otherwise involving themselves in a body of water that certainly is host to myriad fish (and occasionally snakes); herons; ducks; the sound of boats coming to life and swooshing away, etc. But the S.'s lake house was perhaps slightly closer to the water so the sound of it in the morning was more striking than at Champlain. I also think I wouldn't be wrong to say that Cayuga Lake isn't as wide, nor long, as Champlain, which somehow made the view from shore slightly different. In any case, it was a beautiful morning.

There were clouds, but I don't think they wanted to really hurt us.

Birds flew.

Flowers unfurled.

Breakfast was prepared most masterfully by A.S.'s father and most gratefully consumed by all in attendance.

I believe I was the first into the water on this particular day. I woke up so much earlier than everyone else that I had already enjoyed my breakfast and gotten into my suit while others were still digging in. I BC was kind enough to take a break from the book she was reading to provide some proof that I did indeed swim during this week of lake life.

No hands or feet! Or...I mean I was kind of floating without treading water? Is the point? I love floating.

A.S. likes jumping.

As do others. I never was much into jumping, but I do like a shallow dive from time to time.

I missed getting an action shot of A. going into the water, but this reaction shot is pretty good I thought.

I think she called this the hammer? Something different than the traditional cannon ball for sure.

Triumph.

Before some of the ladies went with a round of planking on the raft, we played a few dozen rounds of four square on the raft, which is not without it's challenges, let me just tell you.

Tubing in progress by A.S.'s neighbors. They swung by and asked if she (and I imagine by extension us) would like to tube, but I guess historically the guy is quite the aggressive boat driver and really and truly goes out of his way to try to get folks to fall off. A.S. declined and so did the rest of us.

Then there was an excursion to a winery. It was good and I'll have to remember the name of the place so I can tell you to consider buying their dry riesling.Anyela's!

It was on a different lake about an hour north and west near a town that has a name that is spelled entirely different than how it is pronounced.

A.S. and her parents stayed behind and were going to have dinner while we were gone, so we ended up at Hill Top Diner, which also has a bowling alley attached to it because, of course it does. B.C. and J. went hog wild with their combined and shared order of: a bowl of macaroni and cheese, a bowl of potato salad, a bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy and the fried appetizer combo. It was frankly miraculous how much they ordered and how good a job they generally did on finishing it all.

I was drawn to the roasted turkey sandwich, which I guess usually comes pre-drenched in gravy. I opted for gravy on the side along with mashed potatoes. I then pretty much ignored the bread and ate the turkey after dipping it in the gravy/potatoes.

Seriously, diner gravy and potatoes, which I know are totally not fancy and basically just sodium, are still one of my all time comfort foods. A million years ago in Wheaton Plaza, my mother and I would go to Hot Shoppes (anyone? anyone?) (also the Hot Shoppes in Wheaton Plaza was not a drive in as the link I've included might make you imagine) and they also had some pretty magic potatoes and gravy to consider in their buffet line.And their roast beef sliced right in front of you? Memories. Nothing like going to a 1960s-style buffet in a mall with your mother and about nine million senior citizens. Good times, they were.

With more of their meal displayed.

And that was the night. The drive back was uneventful except for getting stuck in ungodly traffic outside a drive-thru for a bit of time, and the copious fireworks that were still being lit along the river. Actually that second thing, all the fireworks leaping out of the night sky as we zoomed south was truly a lovely sight to behold.