Friday, November 14, 2008

The Virginia Blogs: Ye Olde Jamestown Settlement

Living very close to some of the oldest settlements in the US, we decided that we should be tourist and check these places out. One of them is the largely tourist-directed Jamestown Settlement.* Possibly one of the least tacky tourist places I have been in the US. Most of the places area garish and silly and not very authentic.

Jamestown was low on the garish and silly scale. There were things that were still not quite truly authentic, mostly because the place is well-maintained and clean and not full of horse crap. This is not necessarily a bad thing. The didn’t have a midden heap*** just outside the town where on a hot day you could smell it and they shoveled up the horse crap and cleaned the chicken coops.

Well, as it turns out, there are a lot of local people who apparently like to visit this place over and over. When we gave our zip code for purchasing our tickets, we were asked if we wanted to purchase season passes. We declined—we weren’t quite sure what there was to do there that would merit more than one visit.

Naturally, as soon as we walked in, there was the “governor” walking towards us, tights and bloomers in bright red, shoe buckles shining in the dull sun. “What ho, faire citizens!” he calls out. “God bless the king!” And I would have instantly answered, except I was too busy trying to figure out if it was God Bless the King or he was still early and it should’ve been God Bless the Queen.****

By the time I had figure it out, the Governor had already passed by and we were heading into the Powhatan village.



It was made up of about 10 quonset huts that had been reconstructed as the Powhatan***** had made them. They were also recreated in the inside as well, complete with smell animal pelts and no lights.



We just sort of wandered in and out of these thing for a few and then headed down to the water front, where there were three ships sitting on the docks.

These were the re-creation of the first three ships to cross the Atlantic in search of place to colonize. They stopped at a place now called Hampton, but because there was no source of fresh water, they continued on up the James River until the finally found a good looking spot to settle in. Voila, Jamestown.



This is the Susan Constant, the largest of the three ships that made the crossing to the New World. She was captained by one Christopher Newport, and there were 103 people on her when she sailed up the James.



These are the Discovery and the Godspeed. One of these carried about 85 people and one of them carried 20 people and mostly supplies. Now you really can’t appreciate those numbers until you get on one of these things and find out damn tiny they are. I swear that that one of the small one was no large than my dad’s friend’s sailboat, and they shoved 20 people and supplies on that thing.



We wandered up to the fort settlement and wandered around there for a while. Again, you really have to go into these things to appreciate how small the living quarters were. There was a table, a dresser and a bed for the adults. The children slept in the hay loft, and the servants would usually sleep in the barn hayloft.

This was the Governor’s bed:



One of the powerful and influential guys in the Colonies slept on a hay stuffed mattress on a rope webbed bed. Now, here’s where the expression “Sleep tight” comes from. All natural ropes eventually stretch. After sleeping on this for about week, not only would the ropes stretch, but they would loosen in the frame. So at the end of that week, you would take this huge key looking thing, shove it in the one corner of the bed, and crank it taught again. You had to tighten the bed. So sleep tight. There you go.

We also came across the “natives” working on a burned out canoe. This is the way the Algonquin would make their version of the pervasive Native American canoe/kayak.



They are standing there pointing at it because someone left the fire up too hot and too close to the log. It screwed it up. The colonial lady was trying to douse the log so that it wasn’t completely lost, and she had called over the native to back her up that it wasn’t her mess she was trying to fix, it was someone else’s. I’m just amazed that they didn’t lose this art/skill somewhere along the way.

We also came across some sword lessons. This is an equal opportunity recreation, Jamestown is. There was a woman (in bloomers) with a sword getting lessons. I thought that was cool.



Also, to my unending delight, there was armor…



…but not a codpiece to be seen.

On the way out, we ran into Governor Shiny Buckles again, who bade us have a faire and pleasant day. And so we did.

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*There is another site just down the road call the Jamestown Historic Site and it is VASTLY different from the Settlement. It’s an archeological dig and we meant to go, but I think that we missed the season.**
**There are seasons in archeology—because you are outside the weather must cooperate. In Egypt, they only dig in the winter because it’s too damn hot in the summer. In places like Norway and Alaska, they can only dig in the summer.
***You remember the midden heap stuff, right? The archeologist’s treasure chest.
****He was right. Elizabeth died in 1603, and Jamestown was founded in 1607, when James was already King of England.
*****Powhatan is the name of the tribe, but a lot of people remember this name as the father of Pocahontas. Well, as it turns out, her father’s name wasn’t Powhatan, it was Wahunsenacawh (pronounced Wahunsunacock). He just like to call himself The Powhatan.

*please note-- this outing took place in late April*

Monday, September 22, 2008

The Virginia Blogs: Hanna Be Damned

So, as is standard with either one of our families, nothing ever quite goes smoothly. As we were getting ready for the move, one Hurricane Hanna was brewing in the Atlantic. I tuned every piece of equipment I had to the Weather Channel. I called the moving company ahead of time, and they said, three days out, that it was too early to tell what was going to happen.

The next morning the moving company called and said, “Uh, yeah. No go on Saturday. We can go on Friday or Monday.”

I went with Friday. I just wanted to get our stuff over here, out of the little piece of hell we were living in. It was going to be impossible to keep the schedule I wanted to follow —which was everything over before the furniture.

So we blitzed what we could out of the house and into the new place. Which is to say that two weeks after moving, we’re still moving.

The movers were there at 9:30, and I had hoped to have everything done by 2 at the latest. And then I woke up and realized there was no way that these guys were going to be able to do all of it in my time frame. Or in the budget. There went dinner for a week.* They loaded the truck by about noon, then we had to take my precious babies** to storage. I was sad that we had to put them away, but we’ll be able to bring them out again soon.

Naturally, on the way home from the storage place, it started raining. I was screaming at the sky that it wasn’t fair! Stop! My couches weren’t in the house! But once they started bringing the stuff in, they were done pretty quickly. Pretty being a relative term, of course. The gentleman in charge was kind enough to close us out about ½ an hour before they were actually done because he said he didn’t want to get into the overtime stuff which was HUGE rate charged every half hour.

He got a very nice tip. They all did really. They were sweating their butts off. Which was why we hired them. We would have died trying to move this stuff.

And now we’re here. And we’re much happier. Want a tour?

Well, let’s try this is in some kind of order.

Here’s where you walk in. You know, that front door sort of thing.


There’s a coat closet on the right, just out of view, and yes—there is pretty much always a cat there on the way in.

The door immediately on the left goes out to the deck.



Like the bistro table? I was so happy I got it. Great deal at Ross. Chairs were an end of season sale at Bed Bath and Beyond. I think they match well. So that door off to the right is our mini storage. It’s great for the table and chairs as we found out for the hurricane the next day. It’s also good for emergency replies and may very well become the kitty litter’s and vacuum’s home.

Here’s our new view:


This is what our building looks like, but it’s not ours.


Directly off the deck.


Off to the right.

And look, I finally got my grill.


Ok, so not really, but we can use it if want.

Alright, back into the house. Here’s the TV and our ridiculous large and still expanding DVD collection that does not and will not include White Chicks.

***

The couches and living room itself:



Turn around and you’ll see our dining area. We will be changing out the light on the ceiling as soon as we take it down from the kitchen in the other place.



Let’s go to the left off the dining area, shall we? Our bedroom.





And off our master bedroom, our own bathroom, which then qualifies this as the "master suite." Sounds so hoity toity…



Head back out to the dining area, and you’re going to find the kitchen straight ahead.



The kitchen, dining area and livingroom are an open floor plan:



See that doorway off to the right? That leads to our den:





This picture is taken against the giant mirrors that are the closet doors in the den. I like having those mirrors in there. And I like having two really large closets in there.



Walk out the door of the den and to your right is a hallway and down this hallway is the guest bath. Main bath? Second bath? Whatever.



Keep going and you come to the second bedroom. Also known as the Spare Cat room. Also known as Jenn’s Crap closet room. Perhaps even the guest room? Curtains to come.





Not hard to figure out why it’s the spare cat room, eh?

And when you head back toward the living room, you go through that short hallway again:



So there you have it. One floor. Three bedrooms. Two very happy Virginie transplants.

Y’all come down and see us now, y’hear!?

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*Not really. I had planned on them taking longer than the estimate, but it still stung the wallet.
**You remember them, right?
***There are all kinds of orbs in these pictures. I think it's because of the new carpets-- they are super fuzzy. That, or we're being haunted. Big time.


ADDED 2020: 
I loved this apartment. I did. It had just the right amount of space for us. I keep trying to find another like this! 

Saturday, September 13, 2008

The Virginia Blogs: Zoo… or Not.

We decided that we needed a trip to the zoo. So we trooped over to the Norfolk Zoo. We were greeted by some loud peahens, and walked up to the gate to purchase our tickets.

The Zoo Will Be Closing at 2 PM for the Annual Zoo Gala

Ah crap. I looked at the watch, and it was already 1:30. I asked the lady in the booth if that was when the last ticket was being sold or if that was when you have to be out of the zoo. Needless to say it was the later.

So we walked back past the squawking peahens, and dejectedly into the car. We stared at each for a long moment then pulled out of the lot and headed back towards the house.

“Any ideas?” Tom asked. “It’s a beautiful day, we can’t really just go back to the house.”

“Well, there’s only one I can think of,” I answered.



We found ourselves in Bavaria again. Well, ok. Not really Bavaria—merely the Bavaria Lots at Busch Gardens.

Living in Virginia, we can purchase something called the Fun Card. Buy one ticket, and you can come back all summer on that ticket. Couldn’t really beat that deal. So we each bought one.

I was extremely amused though, that in order to get into the park, we had to show our pass and have our finger print taken and logged for our next visit. I mean, what’s next. Retinal scans for go karts?

We walked through, and Busch Gardens Williamsburg is one of the nicest amusements parks I’ve even been in, and that’s including Disney. It’s quite a haul though, to actually into the park. It’s divided into different European countries, including Britain, France, Germany and Italy. Each area has it’s own rollercoaster, and usually another adventure ride.

Well, Britain has Loch Ness, ostensible because they have Scotland as part of the Empire.

Let me pause here and tell you that I like roller coasters, but I have to watch which ones and how many I go on each time. I get oddly sick; this probably comes from the fact that your brain gets bounced about in your skull and is not happy. This particular day, I wasn’t feeling them, but I went on Loch Ness because it had been a long time since I’d been on one.

It was the only coaster I went on. My brain was NOT happy with me. Tom however wanted more. So I merrily waited while he went on a few different coaster, and called me a wuss the whole time*.

Busch Gardens has recently opened a new coaster called The Griffin. This thing is nuts. I’m sure that I’ll eventually get on it, since I’ve probably been on worse, but just looking at it made me want to puke.

The ride is about 1:45* or so, and I think it’s one of the coaster that try as you might, you will have to scream as you plummet to your death—I mean on the track. See, they crank you up to the top of this 90 degree drop and after you cruise over to the top of the drop, they start to drop you, but then stop and let. you. dangle.



I shall have to try to load the video I have of this thing. You can sure hear the people screaming on it. And it was just too much for me that day. And subsequent visits.

This also happens to be one of the most popular rides right now, and it was quite a wait for Tom’s ride. I walked over to the snack hut and got myself a drink and a snack and had a seat to wait for him. The problem with the coaster is, it’s too high to make out individual faces, so I had no idea when he actually rode the thing. I just waited at the bottom of the coaster entrance until I saw him walk out. He was happy.

We went on one more ride, called Dark Kastle, that I vaguely remember from my first visit years ago. Except one screen on the ride wasn’t working and it kinda lost the momentum it needs to succeed as being scary.

After that, it was time to go home… but we would be back.



___________________________________
*He didn’t believe that I have a problem with them until a later date. He just thought that I was a wuss. We’ll get into that in another blog.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Foodie: Roasted Pork

In my quest to expand from hamburgers and steak’ums four times a week, I am trying to discover what other meats Tom enjoys. Pork is one that is on shaky ground with him.

See, the problem with pork is that it is 100% better if you eat it with applesauce. Guess who doesn’t like applesauce. Me, I enjoy a good pork chop once in a while. Him. Well, not so much.

I have seen him eat pork loin, as well as Cordon Bleu and Wienerschnitzel* made with pork cutlet**. So I have been brave enough to make Wienerschnitzel once in a while, but not often, because you’re supposed to serve it with brown gravy and spaetzle***. Guess who doesn’t like spaetzle?

So, I happened across a pork loin recipe in the Kraft Magazine. It definitely had potential, but I had to make some allowances for our specific tastes. I’m going to post both the original, and my version of it. It was liked enough to make it into my recipe book.

One-Pan Roasted Pork Supper Original.

1 lb sweet potatoes, peeled and cubed
1 large red onion cut into thin wedges
½ cup Light Catalina Reduced Fat Dressing
1 1/2 tsp dried thyme leaves, divided
1 pkg Stove Top Stuffing Mix for Chicken
1 ½ cup water
2 small pork tenderloins (1 ½ lb)

Preheat oven to 375*F. Toss sweet potatoes and onions with dressing and ½ tsp of thyme. Arrange in a 15x10x1 baking pan sprayed with cooking spray. Bake 10 minutes

Meanwhile, combine stuffing mix and water. Cut each tenderloin diagonally into thirds. Push vegetable mix to the edge of the pan. Spoon stuffing down the center of pan; top with meat. Sprinkle remaining tsp of thyme over meat

Bake at 45 to 50 minutes or until cooked through.

Jenn’s One-Pan Roasted Pork Supper.

1 lb yukon potatoes, cubed
1 large red onion cut into thin wedges
½ cup Italian Dressing
1 1/2 tsp dried thyme leaves, divided
1 pkg Stove Top Stuffing Mix for Chicken
1 ½ cup water
1 small pork tenderloin (1 lb)

Preheat oven to 375*F. Toss potatoes and onions with dressing and ½ tsp of thyme. Arrange in a 15x10x1 baking pan sprayed with cooking spray. Bake 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, combine stuffing mix and water. Cut each tenderloin diagonally into quarters or single serving sizes. Push vegetable mix to the edge of the pan. Spoon stuffing down the center of pan; top with meat. Sprinkle remaining tsp of thyme over meat

Bake an additional 45 to 50 minutes or until potatoes are cooked through**** and meat is 165*F internally.

Notes:
Don’t forget your green and yellow veggies! Broccoli and green beans go great with this. You don’t need another starch with the stuffing and the potatoes.
Remember your applesauce! Nothing goes with pork better than applesauce. Just dip and enjoy!

Bon appetite!
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*Contrary to popular belief, Wienerschnitzel has nothing to do with wieners of any variety. Wiener is what something from Vienna is called. Wien is proper spelling of Vienna, therefore something at originates from Vienna is Wiener. Schnitzel is just a way of cooking, deep fried.
** Properly, Wienerschnitzel is made with veal, not pork. However, veal was and is expensive so a lot of our Germanic friends make it with pork. It’s just as good. Especially considering I don’t eat veal.
***Spaetzle are homemade noodles. They are good, but a bit of work. I guess I can post that recipe one day as well.
****Alright, look. I have a terrible time cooking potatoes. I don’t know why. I always managed to under-cook them. The pork was cooked, but the potatoes were slightly underdone. It’s an issue with me.

Monday, August 11, 2008

The Virginia Blogs: Passengers for Philadelphia International...

Have a seat. You're going to be here a good long while.

Yeah.

So, Tom was going to visit his mother this weeks. We were able to find a reasonably priced flight out of the local airport that should have gotten him there about 5:30.

HA.

We arrived at noon, in plenty of time to make the flight. Checked in, fixed the wonky boarding passes, and headed down the terminal. As we sat down to wait for him to head through security, we get travel alerts from Orbitz, telling us that the flight is being delayed. Well, that's not so bad, but we didn't hear it from the airline. Tom proceeded to the gate as though everything were going on time. I headed back home, with a little planned detour to the store.

I'm half way through the store, and the phone rings. Guess who. Guess what. The flight was cancelled. Cancelled. Grr arg.

Tom gets online and they get him on the next flight that leaves at 3:10. Well, he was told off the bat that they were running late. Okfine. He would still make the connecting flight. Okfine.

He gets on the plane, he gets off the plane. He gets on the plane, and they tell them that anyone who has a connecting flight before 8:30 has to debark the plane. The plane has lost use of it's radar and they were going to some rinky dink backwater (as if we should talk) airport to get a new one and there was no way they were going to be at Philly before then. Fantastic.

He calls me about 4:30 and tells me what's going on. They are going to rebook him, AGAIN, on another flight. I tell him to call me when he knows what's going on. So I wait. And wait. And Wait. And wait.

Finally about 6:15 he calls and tells me that he's still standing on line. I just about lose it on the phone and tell him I'll be there in 10 minutes. I drive like the dickens to the airport and find him online, and there's a very long line. He's near the front, so clearly my original plan of going on in there a b*tch on wheels wasn't going to work. I tried a different approach: I called the airline.

They hung up on me.

I called Orbitz.

They hung up on me.

I called them back.

They transferred me to the airline.

Who proceeded to hang up on me.

Honestly, I was ready to punch something. Finally, the jerk who had been at the counter for nearly an hour (according to the others in line and who were ready to snap his blackberry in half) got whatever the heck it was he wanted and went away. Then, the two Israeli gentlemen who missed their connecting flight to LaGuardia were up next. Then the woman with the aircast who would have taken a flight to Timbuktu to get out of the airport was up next. And finally Tom.

"We can get you on the 8:25."

You bet your ass you can get him on that flight. Because if you can't you're booking him on the 8:35 out of the other airport and I'm going drive his butt down there.

So, he gets the third set of boarding passes for the day. We walk back to the waiting area and Tom endulges in a soda and a pack of Nutter Butters. Oh yeah. Healthy diet. So we sit for a while and he decides that he has to go through security again and he should get going. This time, I am not leaving until the plane is off the ground.

He heads down the walkway, through security (he should have worn socks) out into the 10 gates they have there. I head over to rental car area where there are some chairs that you can sit in and watch the planes take off. I settle in and not 10 minutes later, I get a phone call from you-know-who, and … well go ahead. Guess.

That’s right, there’s a delay. Now they aren’t taking off until 9:45. I can’t sit there that long—I have to go to work the next morning. Reluctantly, I got out of the chair and headed for the car. Just about the time I got to the gate with the car, the phone rang again. I dreaded answering it.

This time, though, the news wasn’t bad. They were moving up the departure time to 8:45, and that they would be boarding soon. Apparently they were board in minutes after he hung up with me, because the plane was listed as departing at 8:33 p.m.

So, just 12 hours after he left our house, he finally landed in Binghamton.

He could have driven there, and been there four hours before.

Gah.