Oranges and more oranges

Ah, how the adventure continues.

I had a lovely and short re-visit in New York: I strolled down the Brooklyn promenade, walked over the Brooklyn Bridge, cut my polygamist-length hair and said goodbye, again, to friends.

And so I have returned home, to my parents home in Orange CT where I will lay low, organize, clean and generally putz around.

R is in Boston beginning his new adventure. He has moved all of his belongings into his new apartment and I greatly look forward to seeing his new bachelorhood design sense.

My parents are actually away - enjoying this nice long weekend. House Party! Or maybe a night of food network and white wine? Yes. I think that in weekends past, when I would bounce up here for a few days away from the city, R or my brother worked the electrical grill. When I ventured to the patio last night I looked at this beast of a machine like a car engine - where do I start? With enough pushing and prodding I was sure that a fire would appear, but found myself slow roasting a pepper and mushrooms and (luckily) an already cooked chicken sausage over one lone blue flame toward the back.

An hour later: perfection

My brother was debuting his home-made bar last night so I ventured out to his abode in my Dad's car, graciously left for the would-be stranded child. After driving in a car for the better part of a month you'd think I'd be completely at east behind the wheel. Not so much. This car is, let's say, on the fancier side. So I had to contend with the what ifs while fiddling around with the radio system. If I were to judge my Dad on his preset radio buttons I would assume that 1) he didn't care for the radio 2) liked the challenge of deciphering classical music from beneath the fuzz of a far off station or 3) is learning Spanish. Between these two stations and my student-driver-cautious 55 miles an hour speed limit, it was a long drive out there. The bar, however, was worth the trip.

And just for kicks I will return to NY One. More. Time. I think after that the city will actually spit me out and tell me to get on with it already.

As the week will continue much in this style I will keep the random monologues to a minimum until we head out to Chicago.

Happy Laboring!