the thing about typos

My apologies for not updating sooner. Things have been a little crazy here in Western New York, what with the plane crash and all. It's quite sad and continuing news about the crash is overwhelming. On a more personal note, I've been busy settling in at my new job and by the time I get home and back from the gym the only thing I want to do is eat, sleep and watch: Monday - House, Wednesday - Lie to Me and occasionally Idol. Thursday - Grey's Anatomy... Television melts my brain for at least four hours a week (if you don't count the weekends and that fabulous cake show on the Food Channel) and I don't mind it a bit.

That said, the brain is not completely melted. Recently, I've seen a lot of advertisements for the Literacy Volunteers of Buffalo and their super cool Scrabble tournament fund raising event(s). They're inviting people to host their own Scrabble parties, charge entrance and donate the income to the cause. The winners of each party will then participate in a much larger regional tournament and everyone will be all Scrabbled out. Or something like that.

One of my deep, dark secrets is how much I love Scrabble. Okay, it's not deep or dark, but most people don't know how profoundly I dig this board game. At one point I went through a phase where learning all the acceptable two and three letter words was at once essential and crucial to my very existence. For me, acronyms like TWL, SOWPODS, OSPD, OWL seem as commonplace as LOL and BRB. There it is. I admit it. I'm a Scrabble dork.

I hit the Literacy Volunteers of Buffalo website to get some information on the multiple Scrabble tournaments. All profits will go directly to support Literacy efforts in Erie county. Can't go wrong there. An excellent board game for an excellent cause! The best part of the website mentions a Scrabble tournament just this Monday:

"President's Day Scrabble Tournament
Monday, Feb. 16, 2009, starts at 5:00 PM
Quaker Bonnet Eatery
RSVP: Quaker Bonnet 716-884-0435
Come dressed in your President's Day finest and test your vocabulary with dinner and a Scrabble contest. Cocktails begin at 5:00PM- Reservations needed.
$50.00 per person includes dinner ($30.00 donation goes to Liteacy Volunteers)"

Hilarious. What they failed to mention: any volunteers willing to help the Liteacy Volunteers with their literacy will receive free admission.

plane crash in buffalo

An hour ago there was a plane crash about 20 minutes from here...in Clarence, a suburb of Buffalo. It just happened so there are very few details available. The plane hit a house, and with the weather as nasty as it is right now, they've quickly determined the flight was commercial, not private (unconfirmed reports say it's a Continental flight.) The house is completely gone, but luckily the elderly couple who lived in the home is "safe" according to reports.

Very sad. The morning news should tell the tale...

The thing about appliances

For me, the frozen food section is not unlike many people's interest in match.com or eharmony.com: you're always a little interested what's available, but you know it's probably not good for you. But people keep browsing cliche profile pics and I always check to see if the saturated fat content has gone down on DiGiorno pizzas or that portabello mushroom stuffed ravioli...

In my latest quest through the freezers, I rediscovered Pillsbury Toaster Strudel. A throwback to my childhood, Toaster Strudels are the the dessert for breakfast my brother and I often craved and only rarely were given. Flaky, fried goodness stuffed with wholesome high fructose corn syrup fruit compote and piled high with do-it-yourself high calorie icing--this is a breakfast of champions.

I was eager to introduce my foreign beau to the joys of Toaster Strudel so I put him on the spot, right there in the middle of the aisle, freezer door open, "What strudel flavor will it be? Blueberry filling? Wildberry with that mystery blue icing? Ooooh! or Cinnamon Roll!?" Of course that's when I saw the inevitably-trumping cherry flavor and answered the question myself.

I was stoked; Toaster Strudel breakfasts here I come! Unfortunately, however, I remembered soon after I got home:

I have no toaster to toast my Toaster Strudel.

And that, my friends, is the thing about appliances.

the thing about the superbowl

The Superbowl was kind of lame. I was rooting for the underdog, but no cigar...Alas. Most people don't really care about the game so much it seems. If you dig deep, or perhaps dig very little, in the collective American Psyche, one discovers that it isn't so much about The Superbowl. No. It's about The Superparty and Super Commercials. On a side note, this PETA ad was banned from the Superbowl (NSFW). Its intention is supposedly to encourage vegetarianism, though the FCC (or was it NBC?) disagreed. Either way, the true hilarity was uncovered when the CNN reporter charged with covering the story used a butternut squash to imitate a gun but ironically fell short, making an odd, somewhat phallic gesture with the vegetable herself.

Anyway, I keep getting hits on The Lake Effect Affect from people referred from google searching for "roof icicle removal." Obviously my blog is popping up in their query results due to this entry in which I talk about our Icicle of Death (which, by the way, remains and grows daily--it was almost within arm's reach the other day. I obviously had little luck with my removal techniques, so I'm not sure if I'm a good source of tips...However, I keep seeing commercials for cool stuff like this so that's my only icicle tip...I also dumped about 8 lbs. of salt on the driveway yesterday, focusing major effort under The Icicle where a large mound of ice (almost a stalagmite itself) has formed making driving precarious. Unfortunately, salt melt does not defy gravity and melt vertically.

I'll let you know. More snow is on the way.

The thing about grandmas

This is a cheap shot for a blog entry, but it was too good to pass up.

My grandmother sent me an e-mail responding to my last post (yes, my grandmother is hip, tech saavy and Too Cool For School.) Anyway, she's currently boarding our two dogs at her house while my parents are on vacation. The dogs, Toto and Josie, yes, they're from Kansas, and yes, Toto looks like Toto, seem to be giving Grandma a bit of a hard time. For those of you who have seen or read "Marley and Me," you're on the right track.

Her e-mail included three post scripts. It's best if you read these with a Private Eye/Guy Noir inflection in your voice, particularly for the rubber band line.

"P.S.2 Josie got sick night before last, whimpered a lot, and at 4 a.m. I heard her throwing up. So at zero degrees, all dogs went outside whilst I put all Josie's kennel bedding in the wash and rustled up some more for her. Signs are that she ate a rubber band. Then this morning she had diahrrea in the front hall. I'm sure it wasn't Toto, because Josie disappeared quickly when I discovered it. I really do love having three dogs around!

P.S.3 It's Kansas Day!"

And that, ladies and gentlemen is my genetic lineage.

The thing about jobs

I'm not one to dwell on tough times, but I can't ignore them either.

Yesterday, after nearly five months searching for full-time employment, I went to a temp agency to drop off my resume. Three girls were working inside the little office, all about my age. Humility is certainly in order when your minimum wage employment depends on the whims of 20-something women who spend the afternoons chatting American Idol and berating tardy workers twice their age over the phone.

I spent at least 30 minutes filling out a plethora of paperwork, of which only one page of was looked at during my interview. In the paperwork, I was asked about frequency of personal drug use (separate questions --with all the slang equivalencies-- for cocaine, marijuana, prescription drugs and don't forget, crystal meth) the likelihood of me roughing up co-workers, the possibility of me committing workers compensation fraud, the chance of me skipping work on a routine basis etc. etc. etc.

When I finished the first eight pages of questionnaires and surveys, I turned them in, only to receive the next battery of exams, this time a poorly disguised ethics quiz. Only somewhat ironically, the ethics test was given via palm pilot glued securely to a giant piece of acrylic plastic so as to discourage stuffing the thing in one's purse. Better proof would be: if you don't return the Palm, you fail the test.

The ethics portion drilled me over drug use, desire to steal and posession of slovenly traits. Again, I never saw the Palm pilot results analyzed, similar to all the other useless data they were attempting to collect on me. If anyone is actually dumb enough to admit to their drug addictions or voilatile tempers on job applications, this agency wouldn't know anyway because they barely take a gander at the paperwork...

The interview for Assistant to the Administrative Assistant (aka warehouse clerk) was brief, if uneventful. After concluding that my experience in other fields, university degree and bilingualism could, hopefully, substitute for the year of clerical work desired by the employer for a position entailing light manual labor, I was ushered into another room for 30 more minutes of--you guessed it-- MORE PAPERWORK.

If anything, the experience was a sad one. That securing employment requires the destruction of no less than 10 trees. That a hiring company would need to inquire about potential employees' drug use, violent character flaws and poor work ethic, and worse yet, expect someone to be stupid enough to answer affirmatively. That the sign-in sheet in the office was full of names and under the column marked "type of work desired" almost everyone had scribbled in all caps, "ANY." That the woman in front of me in line was orally padding her resume, shouting through the window with some desperation, "I once packed boxes for Wilson Farms!"

I am an intelligent, college-educated person. I can't get a job as a receptionist because I'm "over-qualified." Not even the grocery store has called me in for an interview. My mother got laid off last week from her nursing job of 20-some years. 100,000 Americans lost their jobs in just this week alone.

These are hard times and the desperation is palpable.

Tomorrow I have a formal interview to be the Assistant to the Assistant aka Warehouse Clerk. I have mixed feelings about it, but driving 30 miles to pack boxes and count inventory for $12/hour might be about as good as it gets.

The thing about icicles

The Icicle of Death isn't going anywhere.

Thanks to the non-stop snowfall our roof has started accumulating vast amounts of ice. I've always found icicles quite pretty, but those of Buffalo take on a gargantuan quality that is at once impressive and intimidating. The largest of the icicles hangs over the driveway and our entrance to the house.

For the last 48 hours we've had a bit of a reprieve from the snow, even a heat wave on Thursday when we made it all the way up to 32°F/0°C!! I took the opportunity to wash my car which has taken a beating from all the salt on the roads, but the "warmth" didn't touch the giant ice stalactite. Today it's back to 11°F, and thus the Icicle of Death isn't going anywhere.

Fearing for my car, and more importantly, my life, I decided I needed to cut the icicle down to size a bit. I vertically chucked tennis balls at it for a while, hoping to knock it loose, with very limited success. Finally, I turned to a running shoe for better leverage, but still no luck. If it wasn't for the nearby windows, I would have resorted to something heavier, like a part of the Icicle of Death's smaller predecessor, the Icicle of Near Death, which fell last week from the same location:

Anyway, if anyone has any icicle removal suggestions, please let me know. I'm fairly certain one of these days I'm going to drive under it and it will come plummeting down, crushing my car and maiming anyone in my passenger seat. Seriously, this thing is huge! Since this picture was taken it's grown---now at least a foot in circumference!
Anyway, the snow is pretty at least. :)

the thing about the girl next to me

I'm at the library and there is a girl sitting in the computer cubicle next to me. She's been there for a while, not that I'm paying much attention. For about a half hour she looked like she was doing normal computeresque things, browsing the internet etc., but about 10 minutes ago things changed. All of the sudden she just folded her arms and put her head down on the table in front of her a la Nap Style.

I don't particularly frown on sleeping in the library. You've got to do what you've got to do--but if you're occupying a computer station while you snooze, that's just kinda inconsiderate. Splaying yourself over the keyboard and letting the monitor idle is just not cool when there are people waiting.

I desperately wish I had a Kleenex for her. The poor thing is suffering from a nasty cold. About every 2 minutes (you can almost time it) she sniffles, huffing her runny-nose snot back into her face. There it was again.

*sniffle*

I might understand if it was really late or really early in the morning...but it's 3:30 in the afternoon.

Dear Girl Sitting Next to Me,
Take that exhaustion home, give it some NyQuil and put it to bed. Seriously though, one of those couches looks way comfier than that cubicle desk.
Love,
The Lake Effect Affect

The thing about gingerbread houses

Making gingerbread houses is pretty great. For some reason I find it highly therapeutic. I wouldn't go so far as to say I possess much talent in this surprisingly challenging medium, but I still had a good time making and decorating them with my family.

This was the first house we made...
Snow covered chex-mix roof, sprinkles christmas lights, gum drop and chewy lifesavers windows, inward swinging French front doors, crystallized sugar icicles.

House #2: This is our LEED Certified Gingerbread House in which 99% of the decorating accoutrements were organic. If anyone needs lentils or orange split peas for soup, please let us know.
Piping bags are certainly fun, but more difficult to maneuver than they look like on the Food Channel.

This was what I would refer to as our "before" picture. As in, before this structurally unsound house hilariously imploded much to our dismay. We rebuilt, as any self-respecting American would after a natural disaster.

Seriously though, organic pinto beans? split peas? do I hear any takers???

The thing about the Wintry Mix

I should amend my previous post. We've got a mad snow storm going on outside and my Gmail doesn't know it yet. It still has grey clouds hanging around. There's still hope.

Did you know it frequently snows sideways in Buffalo? On those days my house shakes fairly violently due to the wind.

Humorously, when I studied abroad in Seville, Spain I used to laugh at the local weather reports. Nearly every week would be like this, give or take 10 degrees:

Monday: Sunny, high of 85°F
Tuesday: Sunny, high of 79°F
Wednesday: Sunny, high of 80°F
Thursday: Sunny, high of 82°F
Friday: Sunny, high of 75°F
Saturday: Sunny, high of 78°F
Sunday: Sunny. One cloud might cross the sky around 3:07 p.m.

I exaggerate very little. Living in the Midwest most of my life, we have four, full seasons with plenty of everything: Sun, snow, rain, heat, wind, cold, ice, hail, tornadoes. etc. I found Seville's weather to be refreshing on the whole, but uncomfortable during the sweltering summer...

Here in Buffalo, the weather report is equally humorous in its repetitiveness. The little graphics on the weather forecast are not sunshine looking egg-yolks. Instead, they've been replaced by an all-encompassing graphic I like to refer to as "Wintry Mix." Wintry Mix (at least on the local tv stations) is often hard to distinguish from "Just Plain Snow." Meterologists use this ambiguity in their favor when predicting weather. Just like in Seville where it was sunny and hot, here in Buffalo they are confident in two things: It will snow. It will be cold. Any deviation from this standard is just a lucky break. And since the snow accumulation varies greatly depending on one's proximity to the Great lakes, the "Wintry Mix" icon always covers the bases.

So yes, it does snow here every day, even if it's just a few flakes. And yes, the forecast got it right, even if it's only sleeting, thundersnowing and raining at once. These are all variable components which can fall under the "Wintry Mix" icon. No need to check the weather or hire someone new for graphics, the "Wintry Mix" will be here until Aprilish.

The thing about e-mail

You know you've been on the computer too long when your e-mail inbox knows it's snowing before you do.

Google, which as of late seems to own or have a hand in nearly every trendy internet tool, has been my reliable e-mail host since Gmail's invitation-only days. Recently they rolled out a series of fun themes for customizing one's Gmail inbox in their intriguing Labs sections. Themes is now its own page within settings but the Labs area is still a never ending shelf of new toys* for the sandbox.

I chose "Tree" as my theme, with little knowledge as to its purpose until the other day when there was an accumulation of snow all over my inbox. With its normal sunshiny affect, I was confused why snow was taking over. Until I looked outside.

It was snowing.

Typical. I mean, it's Buffalo. But still. My inbox noticed before I did.

Another day there were water droplets (and fairly cutesy realistic, I might add) all over my mailbox.

Indeed, it was raining.

Kind of cool, kind of creepy. Who needs windows when we have technology? (no pun intended)


* --A recent gander in labs listed e-mail gadgets such as "Mail Goggles," which allows users to set preferences forcing them to answer a handful of basic math questions in order to enter their mail after a drunken excursion (in not so many words). I haven't enabled this tool myself, but I certainly can imagine its applicability.

The thing about 2009

Happy New Year
Felíz Año

Go see Slumdog Millionaire (then buy soundtrack) and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. And rent Persepolis.

Don't make a new year's resolution unless you're going to stick to it--that way you won't feel bad about falling short of your own expectations.

That's all I've got.

Lots of love to you and yours.

The thing about cousins

This weekend was the annual holiday-imposed family reunion on my father's side of the gene pool. I always look forward to these gatherings with a mix of eagerness and dread. There's nothing particularly wrong with visiting The Family; everyone is cordial and the party snacks aren't bad. If anything, I should only laud my dad, aunts and uncles for their yearly efforts to reunite the group even as geography has separated us.

Unfortunately, as I have grown older, the social interactions required at said gatherings have become systematically and progressively more uncomfortable. While there's always the cousins' rehashing of fonder, childhood memories like which 9-year-old spelled out the naughtiness of Green Day lyrics to the youngins and who, until puberty, was 100% convinced Uncle Charlie had a flying dog who lived in his backyard, we have now added the awkward "semi-adult" conversations.

"Semi-adult" conversations are those in which the cousins (ranging from ages 15-26) air their parents' dirty secrets from college and adolescence which now seem totally absurd and/or sublimely hilarious. Aforementioned parent/aunt/uncle will then casually overhear conversation and additional hilarity or uncomfortable silence will ensue. Ideal topics include: college drug consumption, alcohol-induced stupidity, songs from the 70s.

The other type of "Semi-adult" conversations are those in which the "semi-adult" in all of us is exploited, often at our own personal expense. Typically these conversations consist of an individual cousin speaking to an individual uncle/aunt, however the occasional fluctuating ratio of participants from one generation to another can tip the life-success assessment scales in favor of the larger party.

You don't want to be on the awkward end of one of these chats. Older relatives seek out the youth and unintentionally scrape away at the few shreds of self-confidence most young adults possess. Everyone is well-intentioned but cousins are often forced to confront their current life crises in a up-beat, 10-minute pep-talk sort of way. In the worst of situations, cousins have to reiterate details of the preceding year's failures, dredging up all sorts of ugly repressed thoughts most of us don't want to think about in the privacy of our own heads, let alone discuss over Wheat Thins and a cheese ball.

Actual overheard examples include:

• "So, when are you getting married?"
• "Are you dating anyone?"
• "Haven't you found a job yet?" (actually followed up with, 'have you tried funeral homes?')
• "You still don't know what you want to do with your life???"
• "Who will be the first to get married?"
• "Are you still with so and so?" (typically responded to with some version of, 'It's been about a year, but thanks for reminding me')
• and my personal favorite, "What are you doing in Buffalo?"

Now I realize that some people might look at this list and wonder why or how those topics should be avoided. But consider this when you're grilling the younger generation: do we ever turn the tables on you? How's your marriage? Worried about losing your job in this economy? Are you ever tired of living in xyz city? You look like you've put on a few pounds. Are you eating alright? Are you really happy doing that?

Nope. We very politely respond and attempt to distract from the unwanted attention.

As a collective whole this year, I think the cousins quietly acknowledged the desire to avoid such types of questions, but inevitably, everyone spends their time on the hotseat enduring varying degrees of humiliation. It's not as if there are a lack of personal joys or accomplishments that could be discussed. I am sure there are plenty, but the American Dream line of questioning is certainly the most popular. It goes like this:

Topic 1: Job/School or corresponding lack thereof
Topic 2: Marriage/Relationship or corresponding lack thereof
Topic 3: Life Goals or corresponding lack thereof

If you strike out on all three you're in deep crap, you could be on the hotseat for 20-30 minutes, or hours cumulatively if you're properly circulated between the elders. Even giving a mediocre response to one of the three can have you bumbling about for words until you panic and stuff your face with adequately messy spinach dip.

This year, at least, there were plenty of "semi-adult" beverages to ease the awkwardness, but still. If we only see you once or twice a year, at least afford us the social-norms and graces afforded to other similar acquaintances. Ease in to things and don't make it the inquisition or try to solve our life problems (or your perceived versions of our life problems) during a yearly dinner party. Conversations are a two-way street even if you changed our diapers.

And don't forget:
We love you.
Let's try to ease up on the Judgy Wudgy Bear Syndrome. I'll raise my spinach dip to that.

The thing about taxes

Dear Gov. Paterson,

Are you crazazy? I mean budget shortfalls are nasty, even particularly ugly this year...but you seriously want to charge me or tax me *more* when:

I drink a coke.
I drink a pepsi.
I drink a glass of wine.
I have a beer.
I buy clothes.
I buy shoes.
I get my haircut.
I buy books on Amazon.
I watch cable tv.
I take a cab.
I enroll in state university.
I renew my DMV junk (which already costs a fortune).
I fill up my gas tank (the price of which has fallen, but still stays far above the national avg).
I buy an ipod (once in a blue moon).

I take a deep breath.
I'm sorry. Excuse me for living.

You're going to eliminate 521 state jobs. NYC will lose 1 billion in funding (bloomberg says that's about 12,000 city jobs). If NYC thinks it is going to suffer...Buffalo...oh, Buffalo. NYC's underestimated brother to the west has had an economy on the decline since about the turn of the century. And I don't mean the 21st century. I mean the one 108 years ago. This will not help things.

rough economy. yuck.

The thing about sayings

My boyfriend just asked me if the phrase is:
"Rule of ThumB" or "Rule of ThumP"
His paper on neurolinguistics would have been much funnier if I had lied. I love foreigners.

The thing about Venice

Venice is sinking or drowning, depending on how you look at it. The unique locale is currently underwater.

If you've never visited Venice, know it's as romantic as you would imagine and more expensive than you could possibly imagine. I visited this summer, in what I fondly refer to as my "Week of Pizza and Gelato." Pizza, it turns out, was the only food I could afford (€3/slice) and different flavors of gelato composed my vegetable and fruit intake. The Week of Pizza and Gelato. That sounds delicious. I know. Even in rosy-retrospect it sounds yummy. But let's just suffice it to say, there isn't enough spinach on those pizzas to fulfill your roughage needs and Gelato's high sucrose content pretty much cancels out the healthy fruit flavors.

How could one go to Venice and not sit down in a stereotypical cafe and eat a stereotypical meal with a stereotypical glass of red? It sounds almost sacrilege! Why not? €20+ euros a pop is why. Let's do the math. This summer, with the dollar-euro exchange fairly unfavorable, you could be spending upwards of $90 daily just feeding yourself. Tack on those obligatory trips on the water buses, the hotel/hostel, a trip to the top of St. Mark's bell tower, a museum entry and a few souvenir postcards and all of the sudden you're spending $200+/day.

If that sounds like pocket change for you, well, you should send some of that love my way.

Anyway, despite the incredible amount of tourists and steep prices, Venice is still fabulous. There are plenty of nooks and crannies to escape into and walking around is free and provides hours of entertainment. My only complaint: it rained everyday I was there. Intense, downpour rain. It would come and go, but then the sun would come out and dry things up. During a particularly intense downpour this summer, in which hail was present and tourists were forced to take cover inside stores and shops, I pondered the flood potential of 300 islands separated by canals lapping at their bases. It seemed inevitable. Indeed, this is the worst flood since 1966 when more than 6 feet of water inundated the islands. Of course in 1966 the city and tourist infrastructure wasn't nearly as developed. Today flooding means a different story.

Sadly, today Venice became fairly unnavigable sans overpriced gondola or waterbus. Five feet of floodwaters threaten 99% of the city, including the beautiful architecture and the Dolce and Gabanna store. I know most people are concerned about the latter. ;)

Let's do a before and after. *Starting in my trip in June:

When the waters are peaceful, they still are (literally) lapping at doorsteps.

A storm passing through in June. The water is already everywhere so flooding seems a logical evil. This tourist was taken out by a killer whale shortly after this photo was shot.

*I know Venice is the most photogenic place second to Iceland and I've demonstrate horrendous examples of this, but alas--they make my point.


Now pictures of Venice today (click here for more pics from Reuters, including D&G flooding):



Sad times in Venice, luckily no one has been hurt. I wonder if there are fish swimming around San Marcos. Does this mean it will be cheaper to visit next summer?...

Check out the pics.

The thing about parking

I would just like to thank the guy who parked his little grey car outside my house. He parked it in front of my tragically narrow shared driveway and now neither my neighbors or I are going anywhere. My neighbor tried to leave first, honking her horn at first, hoping the park job was a quick fix. But on a Sunday at 11 a.m. no one wants to knock on every door in the neighborhood. After about 20 minutes of deliberation she resorted to calling the cops.

An hour or so later...
The cops came, gave the car a ticket and said the driver was from out of town aka likely college student. He assured us the tow truck was "en route" and he left.

Three hours later...

The police tow truck came. It hooked the car up, pushed it four feet, just enough to get it out of the path of the driveway and left it. Then it left.

Seriously? You've not only thrown a wrench in the day of one house full of people, but two, and all you get is a ticket? At any given moment there are no less than 60 cars parked on our street and somehow everyone else manages to avoid parking in front of the pathetic little driveways.

What's worse, the driver didn't return for the car until the next day meaning had we not called, we could have been stuck through Monday...eeek.

What really puzzles me about situations like this, is how confused the driver must have been when he returned to see a ticket on his car for parking poorly, when his car was now legally parked thanks to Mr. Tow Truck. Hmmm.



I'm sure the ticket was bad enough. Having your car towed would stink. But now that I think of it, being trapped in your house half the weekend stinks too... Maybe I'll send the photos to this website .

The thing about snow

This just in:

Lake Effect Snow Warning tonight: 6"-12" snow expected in the next 24 hours.

On Friday it was 70°F/21°C and I had the windows open. Monday we're expecting 6" of snow. What a difference a weekend makes.

Only in Western New York.


Technical difficulties have kept me from updating for the last few days. My apologies, we'll be back online soon.

The thing about Halloween part 2

This post has been delayed a bit due to technical difficulties when first published. Oh well. Enjoy the pics.

Two days before Halloween I was in the mood to carve pumpkins. Like decorating a Christmas tree before the holidays, it just seems like part of the obligatory festivities. We headed to Wegmans, my fav grocery store, (they should really pay me considering the amount of publicity I give them) to purchase said pumpkins.

Unlike hanging ornaments, you can't carve pumpkins too prematurely because, well, they'll rot. I figured two days in advance would keep the decomposition smell to a minimum when children dressed as zombies eventually came banging down our doors in search of high fructose corn syrup.

When we arrived, we were startled to discover there were NO PUMPKINS.

Zero. Mind you, this is a store that has fresh sushi and stuffed cornish hens in stock 24-hours a day and started stocking pumpkins in September---and now, two days before the big event and there are NO pumpkins?! They even had those teeny, wimpy pie-making pumpkins for sale in the veggie aisle, but nothing worth carving!?

What's worse, the customer service people said most of their stores within a 10-mile-radius were completely sold out. They didn't even have those great little pumpkin carving knives left over. Incredible. If Wegman's doesn't have it...no one will. Tragic.

Pumpkin shortage hits Western New York.

I started to regret not having bought a pumpkin at the Great Pumpkin Farm back in early October. Come Thursday we were about to throw in the towel, but my landlord had placed 5 (FIVE!!!) un-carved pumpkins on the porch and they were very tempting.

Lucky for us our landlord supports Obama and likes "spreading the wealth around." Specifically the pumpkin wealth.

We snagged two pumpkins and since neither us nor our landlord were going to be home to hand out candy, I carved one pumpkin with a helpful arrow for neighborhood children encouraging them to head to the next house.

Unfortunately, come sun down on Halloween, the first floor neighbor rang our doorbell and told us he was planning on handing out candy. Oops.

We suggested turning the arrow towards the house for good measure. Alas. It was fun while it lasted!

The thing about pumpkins

A few weeks ago I mentioned a pie eating contest at the Great Pumpkin Farm in Clarence, NY. I was at the GPF covering The World Pumpkin Weigh-Off. I met a handful of really interesting folks whose principal hobby is growing ridiculously large pumpkins. They meet for competitions, sell winning seeds and exchange tips and war stories about growing ridiculously large pumpkins.

Like many hobbies, giant pumpkin growing can be a time-consuming activity. Here are some details:

1. To grow a giant pumpkin you must dedicate between 1-3 hours a day. Activities include, watering, weeding, fertilizing (never underestimate that last part,) and in one man's case, playing his pumpkin heavy metal music.

2. To grow a giant pumpkin you must plant early. We're talking March or April. Get those seeds in your favorite greenhouse or put them on top of your fridge to get them warm and sprouting. From there, various transfers might be necessary---especially in Western New York, where the weather can include hail, snow, ice, wind or rain nearly all year round.

3. Get the family involved. Naming your pumpkin might increase its self-confidence and speed up its growth.

4. Come October, dust off your forklift, oh wait, no forklift? Call a bunch of your heftiest friends and offer them beer to help move your gargantuan squash. If you've followed the above steps, your pumpkin probably weighs over 500lbs (226kls).

5. Decide what you're going to do with Your Pumpkin afterwards. Save the seeds? Genetics is important, after all. Carve it? Hide your children inside?...it's up to you.


Now that you know everything you need to grow a giant pumpkin, how about some motivational photos from the event?


That's 981 lbs., for those of you paying attention to the scale.

Transportation is an important consideration as well...


For those of you who don't succeed...well, 10lbs isn't so bad either.
The winner at 1075lbs.