A tale of two Beverlys. Thanksgiving 2021

We're back from Thanksgiving.  Usually we stay here, and host for those interested in coming. This year, we opted to go north.

It was .... a trip. 

Kind of a last minute thrown together event, but it worked out. We had looked for an Airbnb near my parents' so we could make our own thanksgiving dinner and everything. But literally every listing was unavailable (hot take: remove your house from Airbnb or vrbo if it doesn't have heat and hot water for the winter months. Don't be a lazy host. mkay?) 

We had no choice but to hotel. Luckily, there is a decent hotel near my parents' house, a little more expensive than what Doug likes to pay for hotels, but we get points. So. I booked it. 

My sister met up with us. It was nice to have Linda with us for logistics with the dog and for hanging out drinking wine late into the night while watching Milk Carton Kids videos. She got to work from the hotel and really focus on getting things done while babysitting our  dog. An Extra Special and fun chore for her. 

Initially I thought about coming up myself, leaving on Friday the 19th on my birthday and returning maybe Tuesday before Thanksgiving to have it here. I invited my cousin John to come with me but he said he couldn't get off work (he is down in Richmond, VA these days). 

With Geoff not in school, Doug looked at his vacation time and said that he could take a week off. We knew if we went, we'd want to take Geoff and we'd have to take the dog. 

So. 

On paper, it is 7 hours, 7 minutes to my parents' front door. With a lunch break, it took us about 8. Which was pretty great. Monday thanksgiving week travel worked out pretty great, note to self. 

We had a quick visit with my parents upon arrival on Monday night, ordered pizza, and were tucked into bed early because it was a long day for all of us and Tuesday would be too.

Tuesday, Linda was coming up as soon as she could so I booked her room for her to be all ready for her to get there.  We left the dog with my parents, and went up to Beverly and visited Backbeat Brewery where our friend Caleb is working. It was great to see him! We had lunch with Amy, it's been a minute since we've seen her too, so this was a wonderful day. Good food, good beer, good company, it was a great hang out time (and the beer review is here if you are at all interested). 

After lunch, we drove around Beverly and I felt sad. I miss Beverly, Salem, Ipswich, all the good lovely north shore towns that are part of our life and history.  I sometimes can't believe we left here. 

We sat near Independence Beach and just looked at the water over to Salem. We decided to drive to Salem to go around the Willows and there was an accident closing the road before the bridge, so we drove up to Ipswich and went to Great Neck and Pavillion Beach. 

If I could live anywhere, back up north, it would be up on the hill at Little Neck, away from town but with the lovely views all over and the area to walk about and just .... enjoy. Cue Barenaked Ladies singing "If I had a million dollars." The homes up there are mostly cottages, nothing huge, nothing too too fancy, very modest but also very scarce. Nothing for sale or listed on Zillow. Probably all secret listings. Ipswich is expensive (everywhere is expensive right now) so even the houses available in town there are way out of my imaginary price range. Same with Beverly. But it is fun to look and imagine.

After goofing off around Ipswich we resisted a visit to Ipswich Ale brewery, a favorite haunt of ours. We had a date to see Jess and have dinner with them and Carrie. And while it would have been nice to hit the brewery, we needed to keep our date. 

Jess was house/dog sitting for our friends and we beat them to the house, so we got to go to the farmstand next to our old house (across the street from Jess) while waiting for them to come home from work. I got a pie and some fresh cut flowers for a gift for our Thanksgiving hosts. Jess got home from work and we visited with Mocha dog and gushed in adoration of the new kitchen our friends have had put into their house (jealousy).

Oh Mocha. I do love her. We call her Circus Dog because she can jump in the air and twirl around. Jess said that the dog usually doesn't act like this much anymore, she's getting older, but boy howdy did she lose her shit and go full on circus for us. Jess thinks it is because she remembers us, and was super excited to see us. I like that idea. I was happy to see her too.

Doug had picked his favorite Indian restaurant in a town convenient to both Jess and Carrie. We met up and started chatting but suddenly, oh my gosh, there is this couple playing music. 

And they were not awesome. 

They were singing all kinds of tunes, he sang solo first and was okay. But then she joined in and was just .... loud. She went from Patsy Cline,  to Tracy Chapman... and it was unnerving. They didn't need amplification at all, she was quite loud enough without a microphone. But there they were.  Singing. While we're trying to talk.

He played guitar wonderfully, I could have just listened to him play and I would have been very happy with that ambiance.  But he completely destroyed (not in a good way) Blind Faith's "Can't Find My Way Home" (hint: take it down an octave dude, you are not Steve Winwood). We laughed through most of it, it was kind of sad.  

Had I known there would be music there we sure would have picked somewhere else. 

Still. Laughing is a good thing when there is weirdness happening all around. It is kind of typical of what happens in my life sometimes. It was so good to see C, and I miss her, and need a week drunk by the pool in Naples with just food delivery every day and pool. Oh, and some pool.

We had a long ride back to the hotel. It was a long day and I was kind of full of emotions over it all.

The good news is my dog did well at my parents' house, met some people, made some friends, and Linda used him as an excuse to bring him back to the hotel and chill while waiting for us to get back.

Wednesday my sister had to work remotely for the day. She kept the dog, and we took my parents out to my their familiar for lunch. It was a nice time, I could write a ton of stories about my mom and this establishment. 

I'll hold my tongue. 

Doug had discovered that there was an interesting place for us to stop at after lunch, and we wanted to take my dad there, but my mom was fussing about how he had to do his recycling so he was quickly defeated. 

Next time, dude. We'll kidnap you and take you. Promise. 

We headed over there, the place is called Stone Path Malt and they process barley to turn it into different malts for brewing. It is literally right through the woods behind my parents' house. Had no idea it was there until Doug did some beer searching and found it. Holy guacamole. 

It was a really cool place, and we got to meet the co-founder/owner and chat with him for a while. I did a write up of the visit here if you want to read. Here's my favorite picture, not sure why it came out so distorted but it looks super cool and I like it. Malt is magical, yo. Check out the different beers you can get from different malt. Magic. 

After visiting Stone Path, I was feeling incredibly exhausted, and opted to go back to the hotel while Doug and Geoff had some time together and went to Lucky Goat and Buzzards Bay Brewing. I ordered pizza, and we had a meal and crashed. 

For the past few years my parents have been spending Thanksgiving with friends that they've made in town. B and D are a little older than I am, and they've been exceptionally kind to my parents when they have gotten sick or needed things. It's always nice to know someone is physically there and can get in touch with us fast should we need to head north. 

My mom told D that we were coming up and she said we simply had to do Thanksgiving with them, she would not stand for anything else. We had thought of just doing our own thanksgiving (since we couldn't score an Airbnb in the area) using my parent's kitchen, but we decided that we'd take her up on the offer. 

It was a tight fit, but they made everyone at home and it was lovely. The food and company was great. Doug and I took Phin for a nice walk and met a neighborhood cat who really loved us. Damn what a great cat. It was a really good time, even though we didn't have the benefit of leftovers.

Here is a picture of us and my dog who invited himself to sit for the portrait. He's a freaking riot. 

Everyone please look at my dog and how wonderfully he sat after inviting himself to the picture. 

My sister said to me before we the shot "we should have a picture taken of us for our last thanksgiving." 

I looked at her and said "did you really just say that?" She was aghast. "Yes I did!" 

Welllllll. We'll see where we are next year? In May, Bart will be 82 and Shirley will be 79, one day apart. Damn let's just see what happens, right? But honestly.... I hate to say it, I won't be surprised if one of us is not in the shot next year.  So look upon that there picture. 2021 in a Nutshell, eh? 

After Thanksgiving, on Friday we had a plan for us to go see my aunt Beverly in her home on Cape Cod. She has Alzheimer's, and has been living in this really nice facility for a while since her sons arranged things (my cousins Billy and John). She hates it. She doesn't remember a lot of people. She frustrates my mom. 

"Everyone died and left me here alone," she says to my mom.

"I'm still here," my mom says. "What happens if you die before me, and I'm the one left here with no one." 

"Oh," my aunt says. "Everyone died and left me here alone..."

Wash, Rinse, Repeat.

My sister, mom, and I went, while the boys went out to a bar.  

My aunt recognized Linda immediately, but she didn't say my name but I think she knew me. My mom said that usually she goes to visit and Bev is sleeping. And she'll sit there for 2 hours doing crossword while Bev sleeps. 

We were there two hours and had lots of laughs and jokes, and it felt like a good visit to me. I know that my mom or Billy have different feelings when they go visit her. Billy said she fights with him and he has to just smile and walk away. 

My mom has her frustrations, too, but both of them continue to go visit. Because it is what you do. 

I'm hoping it isn't the last time I get to see her. We had some laughs for sure, and I like laughs. Hell yes I like laughs. I'd like to go back in the spring, and hope she is still there to see. 

I took my mom and sister to a favorite restaurant for lunch, while the boys finished up their bar visit and came across the canal to meet us at my cousin Billy's house.  

After a little while, my sister took my parents back home because they were both wiped out, but we stuck around for a long time after.  

My cousin Billy's son Nick came home from work. He is a couple months younger than Geoff.  I took this fun picture of the two of them.  Geoff is 6' 2" and Nick is 5' 5". We have a famous picture of the two of them and another cousin right after all 3 of them were born, within weeks of each other, and Geoff was a giant out of the gate. 

I love that Geoff smiled for this picture (it helps he had been pounding beers all day long between his time with Grampa and Dad out at the bars and then arriving here at the man cave).  I'd love to get the third cousin in for a picture too - not to actually recreate the original shot but to have something updated after like 25 years with all of them together. 

It was so much fun to spend time with family. I love these jerks, and we don't get to see each other too often at this point. 

After we left Billy's (with plans to get together at a house they have in NH sometime in the spring) we headed to the Buzzards Bay Brewing Company to have our final favorite neighborhood beers there and some Thai food. The Thai food wasn't awesome, but we were happy to be enjoying beers from a very favorite brewery there. 

Saturday morning came too soon. We'd intended to leave early but Doug rolled over when my alarm went off. I did some packing and texted a college friend who lives really close to my parents to say hi. The last time I was there we didn't get to connect. She was out running errands and offered to come do a drive-by hug chat. Doug finished organizing the family to go while she and I chatted in the lobby. It was super nice to catch up. I'm fully supportive of her son on his Eagle trail, and really enjoy her and the family. Wish we'd been able to spend time with her boy. 

Hitting the road about 3 hours later than "Let's get an early start" Doug intended, we finally hit the road. It is 7 hours 7 minutes to our front door but took us over 10. 

I was very happy to get home. Boy was I happy. I love going to visit, but it is far, and it is kind of draining. I wish it wasn't so. 

That said, I'm already looking forward to my next visit. 

Hoping all reading this had a great Thanksgiving too.

A new job that is not going to last

 When last we spoke of Geoff, he'd had the rug pulled out from under him, end of the academic career, and a few weeks of heartbreak and self pity. It still continues, in fits and starts. Instead of 10 days of not showering and drinking all the bourbon in the house, he's sort of back to living. He has showered, he goes to the market, he walks the dog. He hasn't gone to the gym but he's "thinking about it." Which are all good signs. 

Then last Thursday morning, he tells us "I have a job interview at 2pm." 

Oh. That's nice. What's the job? 

It's in a produce processing facility. He got dressed - he doesn't have pants that fit, and his tucked in shirt had a big beer belly hanging over. He didn't shave because every year even though he doesn't raise money for it, he does "Movember." I don't know why. The pocket of the one pair of jeans that fit was worn through where he keeps his cel phone in the front. I could see his underwear through the hole so I told him to keep the phone pushed down so the pocket covered the inside of his leg and obscured the boxers. 

He looked a mess. 

In my head I was quoting Jerry Seinfeld "and you want to be my latex salesman..." 

Off he went.

Two hours later he's home, with a stack of paperwork to fill out, direct deposit, and medical forms (he waived those since he gets insurance through me), and policies and procedures, rules and regulation, forms and agreements. 

"I take it they hired you?"

"Yes, I have orientation Tuesday at 9am. Then I get to start working."

Okay. 

"How much are they paying you?" 

"$12 an hour." 

Doug was livid. You don't just take the first job you interview for when there are so many good things out there. He had sent Geoff several jobs all paying $15 an hour or more. They had kind of a fight. 

Geoff blew up that he's trying to move on with his life. 

Doug said that the jobs he sent him were not just better jobs but closer jobs. Jobs in the town we lived in. He's going up almost to where he used to work. He yelled at us that we told him that he could not go back to that job and yes, we did, because we wanted him to find something better and closer. 

The fighting is pretty brutal. The yelling. We've never been yelling people. 

So he starts the new job, he has to be there at 6 am, so he gets up at 4, leaves the house no later than 5:15am. We're back to what it was like when he was taking the train to DC. The dog wakes up and thinks it is time to eat at 4am, and then drives me nuts for an hour. Eventually we all get back to sleep when Geoff leaves.

His hours are supposed to be 6am - 3pm, but he's been working until at least 5. We have one car, so he's been taking it, getting home at 6, and we've been a little trapped.  

He found out the other day he was supposed to come in on Saturday as well, thinking his schedule was Monday to Friday, like normal. Okay, so they need people to work extra hours. 

He gets a text last night that he has to come in Sunday, too. The tone of the message was rude as fuck. I'm thinking to myself "okay, so guys.... guess what. It isn't that people don't want to work, but they don't want to put up with this kind of bullshit from their employer for $12 an hour, every day of the week, for 10-12 hour shifts.

I guess pre-thanksgiving there is too much work, not enough people. So it isn't optional. It's required. I get it. 

He's exhausted, and seeing the truth of what Doug said about not taking the first job. He said "they hired me under false pretenses," and I said no not really, you took a food job in an economy where there aren't enough workers and it is right before the holidays. Companies need people to work, and need a lot of work done, so this is challenging for them. 

He wants to quit his job, and told me that he thinks "maybe after the new year." 

How about no, quit now. It's okay. This job isn't for you. Not the best fit and that's okay. Just tell them "I can work through X date." and see what they say. Tell them sooner than later, and if they tell you to just go home, just go home. If they try to talk you out of it, tell them you need off until Monday November 29th. You're going out of town. If that's not cool, well then. 

We decided that we'd go see my parents for Thanksgiving, and we need the car. So this is not negotiable. 

"Oh great, I can go north to see family and friends and they'll see I'm a complete failure and fuckup." Here we go again. 

So we'll head up to my parents on Monday the 22nd, we'll come back on Saturday the 27th, we'll figure out Thanksgiving (my parents have plans that I don't know we can just invite ourselves to, but we can figure something out). We'll have the dog with us, so it'll be difficult to go out to eat, or for us to bring him up to Jess. They are house sitting for our former neighbors and their dog is not good with other dogs as much as our dog is not good with other dogs. So that would be an unmitigated disaster if we tried to do something there. 

I have friends who freak out or stress if they don't have a plan 100% in place in advance. We're happy to have our hotel room all set, at a decent price instead of holiday prices, and we'll get it all ironed out. 

So that's the Geoff update, the us update, the Thanksgiving update. I kind of just wanted to stay here and cook, but we're locked in with the plan. The plan is the plan. And while we are there, we can work with him on applying for jobs.

"Let's have coffee" a story of Neighbor Dude

It was beautiful outside last weekend, Doug headed up to the roof to clean the gutters, and Geoff and I were using the handsaw to shorten large branches that had fallen off the trees into fire pit sized bits. 

Our neighbor was out raking his leaves, and blasting Vivaldi. Which was nice. It's fun to listen to Vivaldi while doing yard work, and not having to listen to endless leaf blower noise. I told him how much I appreciated that, and he said "Fall is the best time to listen to Vivaldi." Too true.

I shall refer to him as Neighbor Dude. 

I apologized for the noise the saw makes. "We'll be done soon!" He waved it off and said it's not a bad noise, "It sounds like work getting done." 

Part of me wants to remember that when I hear the leaf blowers going for hours in our neighborhood, instead of Vivaldi while using a hand rake. 

He noticed the work we were doing and the fire pit, and asked if we wanted some branches that had fallen off his trees for our collection. I told him sure, we'd gladly take them. He dropped them over the fence and we chatted. Some were long and thicker, and needed cut down; others short and dry so Geoff put them in the shed door and stomped the middle of them to break them down. He looked like he enjoyed that level of destruction and breaking things. What 24 yr old person doesn't enjoy that kind of thing (heck, what 54 year old person doesn't, I'll be honest). 

Neighbor Dude and I chatted while he raked and Geoff hauled wood over to the pile to get it out of the way for more work. He stopped in his tracks, looking down.

"Oh dear," he said. He used the edge of the rake to flip up a good sized animal carcass. It was a possum, and we both cringed. From the roof, Doug was pondering how a lone possum would be dead in the yard, like did it get stuck in his yard and the gate was closed, and it just couldn't escape? Can't they climb trees? I wondered if it ate poison put out by the other neighbor to our west (she thinks we attract rats by not keeping our yard spotless. I think she doesn't know the difference between rats and squirrels, to be honest). 

He pondered what to do. Do I just put it in the trash? It seems undignified. It deserves a decent burial, doesn't it. We agreed. Yes. The poor beast. It was large and healthy looking. Possums are important creatures, and truly I hoped that the other neighbor had not offed it intentionally. He decided to bury it. 

He got a hoe from his shed, but I handed him a much mightier shovel to do the job. "Don't let her see you doing this," I told him. He asked why. I explained that she thinks we attract rats. He laughed and said she said that about the prior tenants of this house. 

"I have never seen a rat in this neighborhood," he said. "There are so many feral cats, and pet cats that go outdoors, they keep things tidy." He shook his head and set to work digging. Geoff and I cut a little more wood. We stopped to watch him lower the possum into the hole. 

"Rest well, dear friend," he said. 

"Godspeed," I added. 

"So," he handed me back the shovel, "you've lived here for months now and we have not spent time together. We should have coffee." 

I said that sounded great. When works for you?

"How is tomorrow?"

Uh. Short notice. Maybe.  Tomorrow being Sunday, Doug likes his morning routine and then Football All Day. So it would have to be early. I suggested waiting until Saturday next, and he agreed that would be nice. 10am is perfect. Yes. Okay. Coffee at 10am on Saturday the 13th. 

Today.

I texted him at 9am to ask if we were still on and 10 was still good - he agreed. I threw an apple blueberry cobbler into the oven, knowing it might need a little more time to cook so I planned on texting him a few minutes before 10 to let him know we'd be about 15 minutes late to give the cobbler a few more minutes. 

Doug was slow to get ready - he is a little grumpy in the mornings, and doesn't relish giving up his goofing up on the phone time to be social, so he was still in his pajamas at 10, as I was putting on my shoes and getting ready to let the dog out and text Neighbor Dude about the slight delay due to baking cobbler. 

Doug and I discussed whether or not we should set up the kennel since Phineas is sometimes not well behaved when alone. Geoff has a new job and isn't home today, so the dog would be super solo. 

While we were deciding, Neighbor Dude showed up here. He had a shopping bag with him, full of bagels and cream cheese, and berries and lox. 

Truth is, we had never decided where coffee would be had. Here or there. Us or Him. I assumed him, he assumed me. Oh the hilarity that ensues!

He was apologetic, and said we could go to his house but Doug ushered him in, this is better so the dog won't be alone, this solves that problem! And, there's a breakfast cobbler in the oven, it needs a few more minutes, so this is perfect. Absolutely perfect. Come on in.  

We apologized that our house is a little messy. I quickly cleaned off the coffee table, moving the junk mail that had piled up, Doug's laptop, and arranged the nice coffee table books that were covered up by us neglecting their display, all while noticing that it had more dog hair on it than I initially thought. And I cleaned that up. He was either unoffended or exceptionally gracious.  When you live, eat, work, sleep, wash, rinse, repeat all in the same one space you become blind to the mess after a bit, I guess. 

He and Doug got to talking about medical stuff and junk. I brewed a pot of fresh coffee (we had finished off what Geoff set up/started before leaving for work), and got the cobbler out of the oven to cool down for a few minutes. I set up a little tray with the berries that he brought, and poured the coffee. 

My dog then jumped up on the sofa, next to Neighbor Dude. And then, climbed into his lap. Literally on top of him.  

"I think we are now becoming very best friends," he said. Doug wanted to shoo Phin off his lap, but he insisted Phin stay. 

He called him "Phil." I did not correct him. 

Then, Phineas started doing this weird thing that he does that we tolerate... he likes to lick fabric for some reason. He has one pillow on the couch that we allow him to do this on, and if someone is over, which is incredibly infrequent, we move the pillow away from the couch. It's a dirty little secret here. And now you (and Neighbor Dude) know.

Because the pillow was not on the couch, Phin started to lick Neighbor Dude's pants. 

I booped his snoot and told him to stop. Neighbor Dude laughed and said "oh no, this is fine." 

No ... it is not. You are being unbelievably gracious and my dog is being a freaking weirdo. And I am so sorry. Phin stopped for a while and just rested his chin on Neighbor Dude's leg looking up at me. 

It was time for another round of coffee, so Phin jumped down and followed me to the kitchen (the room with food and he loves food and where's the food can I have some food?). I gave him a treat in his dish to keep him occupied and I brought out the coffee. Neighbor Dude's perfect black jeans had a giant pile of white dog hair all over them. He gently brushed it off and said it was okay, he loves dogs, he'd love to have a dog, but is at work so much that it wouldn't be fair to the dog. So this for him was just fine. 

Still, in my heart I'm mortified. You know I'm mortified.

Phin got up on the love seat with Doug and fell asleep, snoring loudly. I was just waiting for him to fart to finish off the full Phineas Experience.

"All of his affection giving wore him out!" declared Neighbor Dude. 

We talked about the neighborhood, and how we lived up the street for a couple years. He bought his house in December, right before we moved in, and got the tenant in the spring after having work done on the basement to update it and get it ready. Previously there had been a rather large family living in the house, so he knew he wanted to rent the basement out, and it needed the full monty in order to get it to that point legally. 

He is from Cairo, and did his medical residency in pathology at Harvard, so we talked all about Boston. We talked about snow. How Doug does not miss it, but he likes it, once a year. 

He had also lived in Omaha, Nebraska (speaking of snow!) and Houston, Texas. He said that a lot of people told him that Boston was not a friendly city, but he found Omaha to be the most unfriendly and actually kind of overtly racist. 

Considering that a lot of people think Boston is one of the most racist cities going, he said that wasn't the case. He made great connections and found community there, where he had nothing in Nebraska. 

He said living in Boston was great because of the quick access to the ocean, which he misses living here. I couldn't agree more. For a while he was looking for a job in Florida, and had a job interview in Miami. He decided after the interview to take his rental car down and go to the ocean, and check out Miami Beach. He then ended up stuck in traffic trying to get to the airport, and missed his flight by over an hour. He decided Miami was not for him.

He said so far of all the places he's lived in the USA since he moved here in 2013, DC is the most friendly. Perhaps,he thinks, that is because so many people are from far away, and people are looking to make friends, and he's very right.

We talked about Cairo, and Egyptian politics, and how the current president is trying to deal with the huge amount of population and congestion. He told us about New Cairo, which I had not heard of, and how people are being moved over to the East to alleviate the pressure of population.

I didn't realize 20 million people lived in Cairo. He shared a lot to about racism in Cairo and Egypt in general. With people coming in from other countries in Africa, there is a lot of Xenophobia. But on the whole, Egyptians are very loving, and caring, and want to help the Syrians and Sudanese who find themselves coming in. 

Just don't try going to Turkey to get the same compassion. 

We talked about Canada. How Doug and I had really unique experiences in Quebec. He said he speaks fluent French but the French they speak in French Canada sure isn't the French he speaks! He had a really hard time there trying to talk to people, in either French or English. 

It was a really nice and rather lovely experience. I told him next time we have a bonfire, I'll text him to see if he is around and wants to come over. 

He left a little before noon, said goodbye to Phil, who seemed very sad to lose his new best friend.