The scene one year ago: I was in DC/Baltimore for an interview and to spend a few more hours in the city before completely committing to moving here. I took the train down from Baltimore on Thanksgiving eve, feeling particularly festive watching everyone pile onto the train with luggage and eagerness to meet up with friends and family. The train was packed and a nice guy from Johns Hopkins plunked down next to me. He was headed to DC to meet up with his family, I was heading to DC to have a wine and cheese party (of two) with Greg before flying out the next day. He told me about his girlfriend moving to Takoma Park, preferring it’s tree-lined streets to the party-aftermath streets of College Park. It was this conversation that prompted me to look into that area and eventually to select my first apartment in Takoma Park. We waved our goodbyes at Union, separated by the crowds, only to reunite at the farecard machine, again exiting at a stop in SE (after changing trains) and then again at the corner of his hotel as I waited for Greg. It was this exchange that was my first clue as to just how small of a town that DC is.
Greg took me to my first Trader Joes where we got exotic cheeses, bread, and some good pinot noir. Then we strolled along the mall, enjoying the cold darkness before a great evening of conversation. The next morning is one that I still am not sure how I survived and made it home. I awoke at 4am to call the cab. 2 hours later it didn’t show up. With Greg asleep and the metros still closed, I had no choice but to walk out the door (that locked behind me, sealing my fate) and hope for the best. Now that I understand a little bit about the neighborhoods of DC, I would realize that walking around in the dark hours of the morning in southeast with my options for defending myself being the only thing fewer than my ideas of where the hell I was. Eventually I found a cab under an overpass who brought me to Union Station. This is when I learned two more good tidbits about DC: the MARC doesn’t run on holidays, and the AMTRAK is surprisingly expensive. But alas, my backpack and I made it onto a northbound train then a southbound plane and I didn’t foil the Thanksgiving festivities. This is the trip that made me fall in love with DC. This is the trip that made me remember that I can do things on my own.
So I’m not sure what the point of all of that was, other than sharing a fond memory of a year ago. The trip to Florida this year was far less eventful. I once again made a friend for a few hours, this time on the plane. Jeff and I were fortunate to have scored the only empty seat on the plane between us, and discovered many conversations to be had as we were headed from DC to neighbor Florida barrier islands after our plane transfer in Miami. We spent a plane ride sharing restaurants, music venues, and other great spots around this city that we’re both relatively new to. We disembarked in Miami, greeted by the news of the ongoing attacks in Mumbai as well as a phone call from a clueless Keith in Bangladesh. Not to worry - even though he was in the field visiting some of the water-logged land and mostly incommunicado, he was safe and sheltered from any of the violence going on in the neighboring countries.
We laughed as we boarded a bus to take us onto the runway to get onto our plane (never a good sign). “As long as it’s not a prop plane” had been our motto for the last few hours. We pulled around a little jet with a sign of relief “phew, it’s not a prop plane”…only our bus didn’t stop…it drove past this nice little jet and stopped in front of a tiny little prop plane. Son of a -- “good luck” were our parting words in unison. Eeek! A flight to remember why I don’t like little planes!
I had knitting to keep me company, but I had to put it aside as my tension was getting a little off (shocking).
So all of that jabber to bring me to Thanksgiving 2008. A day that no pies were ruined (there was an incident last year...) and the family gathered to enjoy some wine, oh and eat some turkey too. Like all Thanksgivings in the Ruesswick household, this one again began with pie making and watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.
Then it was time to go to Nina and Papa's house in the Cape and begin the real festivities. Nina is always meticulous in decorating the dinner table quite festively.
One thing never missing from a gathering: a well stocked bar.
Papa had this sweet new device that aerated the wine. Another Thanksgiving tradition - toasting with some Nouveau Beaujolais.
And drinking martinis, of course.
Mom got some fancy cutout things to beautify the crusts - they turned out great! I contributed by peeling the apples - a skill I've become quite adept at having come home with so many large bags of apples from apple-picking this year.
And we gathered to have a lovely dinner with family and family friends.
Look at how cute my parents are. It's not just staged for the kodak moment, they really are that cute.
The other Thanksgiving Day tradition is listening to Christmas carols on the ride home. This year it took about 25 of the 30 minute drive home for mom to be able to find carols on the Sirius. I'm going to get all kinds of flack for posting this up, but it's too hilarious not too. This is just how persistent she is with maintaining that tradition:
The Friday after Thanksgiving was a day to remember. We took the sailboat out for a little afternoon meander through the sound. A picnic and cooler packed, we were ready to go. Only thing missing: the wind.
Hm.
We motored out anyway, with high hopes of the wind picking up when we got out of the canal.
Mmm. not so much on the wind.
But we had fun anyway.
I worked a little bit one some knitting and was excited to see how well my yarn matched the Pine Island sound.
We also discovered a little stow-away (see the butt of the gecko that popped out onto the mast when we raised the sail?) Hey buddy.
Then we started to see some dorsal fins in the distance.
Then closer and closer.
We were surrounded by a pod of about 15 dolphins playing in the water. They swam under and around the boat for about an hour; it was incredible.
When some of the speedboats went by, the dophins played around, jumping in the waves that were created.
It was a fantastic day.
Eric and Sarah:
Eric and I:
Mom and I:
I guess this will be part one, because I just realized that I have more picture to upload from the rest of the weekend. I'll leave you with one knitting project that I can show! This one kept me company throughout the various plane delays and cancellations that I faced on Monday. It is a little wool scarf in cherry plum for Jackie's sister in France:
An brief explanation of my absence: these few weeks have been when crazy time for work, school, and other assorted committements have converged - leaving me with many awake hours, few knitting or reading hours, and many flashbacks to that hellacious time I called my senior year. Somehow posting hasn't made it onto the to-do list. But I'm trying to catch up amidst the fun!
Cheers -
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