I am sworn not to say what the special day is. Fine. Today is a special day. Let’s leave it at that. I have taken off from work to add to the specialosity.
So, what do you do in Hamden, CT on a special day? At the Fox house, a day like today calls for bowling!
We headed out this afternoon to our local bowling establishment. You’ve got to be careful here in New England. There is ‘real’ bowling, but if you’re not careful you can mistakenly end up ‘duck pin’ bowling. It’s not pretty.
Whose idea was that? Tiny ball without holes. Three balls in a frame. No one seriously thinks that’s bowling, right?
None of us is particularly athletic. None of us is a good bowler (though having lived in Buffalo, both Helaine and I have our own ball and shoes). We are, however, naturally competitive.
Stef led in the first game, only to get passed in the 9th frame. She wasn’t too happy.
In the second game I caught fire (for me), bowling a 147.
The third game was Stef’s turn to shine. She bowled her own 147, hitting a few doubles on the way.
While she was shining, I was tanking. That was probably just as satisfying. Like I said, we’re competitive.
Though we both bowled 147s, only Stef bowled above her weight. She wins!
Our special occasion dinner was at Olive Garden. This was the special person’s request, which was honored.
All kidding aside, Helaine and I have a college age daughter who chose to spend this day… in fact this entire week… with her parents. We get it. This is a good thing.
We took Route 69 through Bethany and Prospect to I-84 in Waterbury, then up Route 8 to Winsted. We were in the country now. We continued northwest on Route 44 to North Canaan. Not one photo had been snapped!
We took our cameras from the trunk and began shooting away. A minute later a man walked out of the restaurant and in our direction. He was short, but muscular, with a do rag on his head, a chain with charms around his neck and tattoos on every part of his body not covered by a Wesleyan University t-shirt and Dolce & Gabanna sunglasses.
Over the past few years, property in Litchfield has become very desirable to New Yorkers looking for a country place. To many people, that’s the new face of Litchfield County. But Ameen has spent a lifetime in these hills and he was going to take us to meet some locals and see things only locals know.
Rustling Meadow is the kind of countrified place once foreign to a city boy like me. Even now, it’s heartening to realize places like this really do still exist.
It didn’t take more than a few seconds to notice a large, four panel solar array, mounted on a post. This single installation provides all their electricity! In fact, power lines from the local electric company don’t even come onto the property!
The next thing I noticed was the stone. Karl is a stone mason, and there was what looked like a small stone home off to the side, with a bigger one in the process of being built.
We headed out again, to our next stop at 
It was time to head home, a little over an hour away.
Over the course of the hurricane season I’ll see lots of different computer projections. Hurricanes are notoriously difficult to forecast – especially before they form.
This is Mt. Desert Island. There are no 7-Eleven’s, McDonald’s, Starbucks or any other franchise or (shudder) big box stores. It is 1950s America as depicted on sitcoms – all white (97.88%), all Christian, all industriously hearty.
Lobster buoys, the makings of the prototypical Downeast Maine photo, are everywhere. Yes, they’re hung on walls and piled on docks, but any stretch of water deep enough for lobsters has hundreds, sometimes thousands of traps marked with buoys.
This was a great trip with a great friend – a guy I met my first day as a professional broadcaster, over 35 years ago.
It’s good to have an understanding wife. She is often willing to tag along when she knows there’s something I want to do. I’d like to think I indulge her on an equal basis. Who’s keeping score?
Is this what crack is all about? I just can’t stop.
Is Connecticut shoreline, from Clinton to Madison, Guilford and Branford has a very New England feel – much more so than where I live. There are many old homes – some actually historic, dating back to the Revolution. The roadway itself meanders along tidal marshes and estuaries and is canopied by tall trees.
I finally, we were at our destination, the town dock in the Stony Creek section of Branford. Just offshore are a small sprinkling of tiny islands, commonly known as the 
This is going to sound strange, but the colors of nature are off this time of year! With so many trees in bloom, they take on an unnatural shade and produce an unexpectedly high luminance.
New Haven’s harbor, which is deep and well protected is a ‘working harbor.’ So industry, enabled by shipping, has grown up on the waterfront.
On the way down we stopped at an overlook which pointed north, toward where we live. Usually, I think of East Rock’s unobstructed view across Long Island Sound (and today, Long Island itself was easily visible), but the view to the north can be very pretty and in many ways more ‘New England’ than what you’d see from ground level.
