Baltimore Diary

That's One Broken Fast

Hyacinth: When people ask you what you have for breakfast, don't tell them cornflakes. You eat an exclusive european high fibre breakfast.
Richard Bucket: Who recommended it to you?
Hyacinth: The Dutch Royal Family.

—Keeping Up Appearances, "A Celebrity for the Barbeque" (9/19/93)

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This past Sunday GF and I, and our next-door neighbors, found ourselves miraculously without children. So we decided to go out for brunch.

Our original destination was an Irish pub down in Fell's Point by the name of Slainte (say SLAWN-tcha, dammit), on Thames Street. I'd been there before for breakfast-y food, and looked forward to returning. About midway down, however, the neighbors (in whose car we were riding) started talking about another place they hadn't been in awhile. So they made a mid-course correction and we found ourselves on North Patterson Park Road, in front of a place called Morning Edition.

I'll say this about Morning Edition: it gets some interesting mixed reviews on both Citysearch and in the City Paper, and they're all exactly right. Bottom line: the food is great but don't count on speedy service.

The restaurant is festooned with assorted rustic-like stuff either placed on shelves or just plain attached to the wall. Nothing--and I mean NOTHING--mounted to the wall is hung with any sense of "level" to it. Even the big round Coca Cola sign at the back has the top of the bottle tipped ever-so-slightly to the right. The floors are hardwood and starting to decay, and the furniture doesn't match. I rather like this last detail but I couldn't tell you why. GF would never have it in the house, though.

The male half of the neighbor couple tried to order his breakfast and found himself rebuked by the waitress:  "Don't you know it's Ladies First? See that, you tried to be fast, now you gonna be last."

Our meals were served with a bunch of fresh fruit to the sides and a Tootsie Pop nestled somewhere in the middle. GF ordered scrapple but I didn't make her move out of the house because, when in Rome etc. But I wasn't having any of that. She also had some French Toast. I did biscuits and gravy. My sausage gravy is better, methinks, but the scrambled eggs were very good. Our female neighbor ordered the seafood omelette, which looked nothing short of amazing. She assured us that this was, indeed, the case, but she wasn't sharing. 

Afterwards we hit a few assorted antique places, looking for something that might catch our eye, but while we struck out in that arena, we found a few places that seem to be worth re-visiting, so they're filed away in our heads for now.

A Family Affair

Jack Gallo: I believe a toast is in order. To the bride, to the groom, and to God's warped sense of humor. First the duck-billed platypus, now this. I'm kidding, of course. Drink up.

—Just Shoot Me!, "The Odd Couple: Part 2" (5/25/99)

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As mentioned earlier, my sister's wedding reception took place at the Milleridge Inn, which is one of the better places to do such things. But more on that anon.

My father had arranged for a group rate at the Huntington Hilton, but unfortunately we couldn't get that rate because of when we'd called. GF tried to get through to a reservations supervisor, but when she was put on hold and left there, she hung up and didn't bother calling back. Hey, if they don't need our business, then c'est la vie. Instead we booked a room through Travelocity at the Bethpage Motel. This place had the advantage of being central to nearly every destination we had for the weekend, plus it was a hell of a lot cheaper than the Hilton. In fact, it was about $35 cheaper than the group rate for the Hilton. We got in around midnight and there was a little confusion because somehow they'd gotten under the impression that we were supposed to arrive on Wednesday night (and, in not showing up, had somehow cancelled), but they managed to accommodate us anyway, although we had to wait a few minutes for a room to be made ready.

For us, motel rooms are little more than crashpads. We're not spending a lot of time in them, so as long as they're clean I'm going to be happy. And this place was a little older but still rather nice.

Friday morning, I busted Daughter out of school and took her back to the hotel, where everyone got changed for the wedding. The wedding was at St. Joseph's Church in Babylon, only steps away from Argyle Lake Park. Argyle Lake, incidentally, is a VERY popular place for bridal parties to do their pictures, but my sister went elsewhere.

We got to the church at about 3:15 for a 3:30 service, and it turned out that the clergy were in there still doing the Stations of the Cross. They finished up and we moved almost directly into the ceremony. The wedding was not a full mass, which was okay by me. I hae to woder, however, if the only reason they didn't do a full mass was because they couldn't do one. No kidding: if you believe in transubstantiation, how can you eat the body of Christ on a Friday during Lent?

The bridesmaids, six of them, plus the maid of honor (my other sister), all wore strapless gowns in bright red (think Valentine's Heart red). The guys wore tuxes and, of course, looked like they'd never worn one before. Their part of the procession had a vaguely Mafia feel about it. But my sister looked terrific (natch) and she and her groom clearly had fun during the ceremony itself.

The Milleridge Inn is actually a collection of buildings. Some of them are shops and a couple of them are banquet halls. We were in the Milleridge Cottage, which features a hall and, at one end, a circular atrium that's glassed in. It's like a glass carriage house (if you go to the link, this room is at the bottom center of the photos). But the Carriage House, in fact, is a different structure on the grounds.

GF learned that when you go to these things on Long Island, the Cocktail Hour is where the real eating is at. This is a partial list of what was available (partial because I can't remember everything):

• Carving Station with London Broil and about four different sauces to put on top
• Penne a la vodka, which was just as good as I remember from the last time I was there
• Tortellini Alfredo
• Sliced tomatoes and fresh mozzarella balls (about 1" diameter)
• Chicken Teryaki
• Beef with peppers and onions
• Eggplant parmigiana, shaped like manicotti
• Clams/mussels/shrimp marinara
• Calamari
• Assorted fruits and crudite (hey--who let in all those empty vitamins?)
• About a half-dozen different cheeses

This was all at tables around the room. Then they had the roving waitstaff with:

• Mini egg rolls
• Pigs in blankets
• Mini quiches
• Bacon-wrapped scallops
• Pizza bagels
• Skewered chicken
• Fried Shrimp

All, of course, with the open bar. I had to explain a Vodka Collins to the bartender but otherwise everything went smoothly there.

The main event was pretty typical but still kind of fun. Wee One spent pretty much the whole evening on the dance floor. Daughter did not, since she was a little mopey because she was probably the only 16 year old there. It was a collection of three basic groups: Older folks (Dad's friends), young adults and small children. Having said that, I did make her get up and dance with me. And she didn't even die of embarrassment. Go figure!

Love is in the Air

Paul Buchman: Why is it I love you any more in the middle of February than on, say, August 21st? You know, to me, every day with you is Valentine's Day.
Jamie Buchman: So, in other words, you forgot to buy me a card.
Paul Buchman: That's what I'm saying.

—Mad About You, "Valentine's Day" (2/8/99)

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For the record, I didn't forget. GF got a lovely card and, of course, a bauble.

I'm posting from the Lovely Bethpage Motel, just steps away from Hempstead Turnpike on Long Island, home of Billy Joel, the Stray Cats, Blue Oyster Cult, assorted Baldwin Brothers and Yours Truly.

In about 14 hours, my little sister—

—all my siblings are "little", that's the way it goes when you're the oldest, But she's going to be 28 in a few weeks. Does that still count as "little"?—

—is going to change from a "Miss" to a "Mrs." and she's invited a bunch of us to come and watch it happen. So we're up in New York for the weekend.

Of course, while we're here we'll be stocking up on a few supplies: Bagels, baked goods, knishes and we'll be feasting on an actual pizza.  We're also planning on dining at Christiano's restaurant in Syosset village, which some claim is the one discussed in the Billy Joel song ("Bottle of red, bottle of white"—yeah, that's the one), although that would make Christiano's the third restaurant named to that distinction that I know of. Anyway, try the baked clams. They're amazing.

At any rate, the reception is at the Milleridge Inn, which is a cut above your usual wedding factory, so good things are expected. Stay tuned.

Lightning In A Bottle!

Murray: When you're in a band, you don't get with your bandmate's girlfriend - past or present.
Jemaine: Yes, well thanks for that.
Murray: You get a love triangle - you know? Fleetwood Mac situation.
[beat]
Murray: Well there, there was four of them, so...more of a love square. But you know, no one gets on.
Jemaine: Okay, I see.
Murray: Mind you, they did make some of their best music back then.
Bret: Rumours.
Murray: No, that's all true.

—The Flight of the Conchords, "Sally" (6/17/07)

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A meme I got from Yellojkt for creating your very own rock and roll album. I thought it would yield rather boring results but I was pleasantly surprised, so I'm sharing it:

First, you get your band name by visiting a random page on Wikipedia. When I clicked on the link, it took me to the page for the Council of Notables. Is that just THE best name ever for a rock band? You bet it is.

Next, you have to come up with a title for your album. This is done by going to this random quotation page. Go to the last quotation on that page and grab the last four words of the quotation. In my case, the full quotation was:

Truth, like surgery, may hurt, but it cures. (Han Suyin)

So my album title is:  Hurt, But it Cures, which is just enigmatic enough to be a cool album title coming from a band. It's more Radiohead than The Beatles, if you get what I mean. Anyway, I like it.

Finally, what good album doesn't have cover art on it? To get the artwork, you go to a random Flickr page and choose the THIRD picture. My photo came from a guy named Octave Z. The Flickr title is "Day 24/365" but the file name is "spaceball." I think it was part of a photo-a-day experiment. I love the shallow focus field in my image and again I think it's tough to beat, given the trend laid down by the other two elements of my album. Anyway, I had to crop it a little to make it fit a square image, which is a shame, but I think it still works. Add some text elements using a program called GIMP, and away we go:

GIMP, by the way, is a freebie, open-source program that you can use to manipulate images. From a user-friendly standpoint, it's no worse than Photoshop, which means it takes a little getting used to some of the elements but it's not as tough to get the hang of it, in my opinion. You can get it here.

So this was a fun little project, which of course has GF rolling her eyes so hard that our neighbors could hear them rattling about in her head, but it may inspire me to jerk around with other pictures just for the fun of it.

Disastrous Fun

Bleedin' Gums Murphy: Then there was the time I guest-starred on "The Cosby Show".
[Flashback to a Cosby Show episode]
Cliff Huxtable: Kids, this is your Grandpa Murphy.
Rudy Huxtable: But we've got three grandpas already.
Cliff Huxtable: This one's the famous jazz musician.
Rudy Huxtable: Ah, they all are.
Cliff Huxtable: Oh,oh-oh! You see, the kids these days, they listen to the rap music, which gives them the brain damage. With the hippin' and the hoppin' and the bippin' and the boppin', they don't know what the jazz is all about. Y'see, jazz is like Jello pudding... no, that's not it. Jazz is like Kodak film... no, that's not right neither. I've got it, jazz is like the new Coke - it'll be around forever.
[Back in the present]
Bleedin' Gums Murphy: Sigh.

—The Simpsons, "'Round Springfield" (4/30/95)

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This evening, GF and I were at our neighbors' house for dinner. The husband, B, seemed to be a little out of sorts, so his wife suggested that he and I go out for a little while to have a few drinks. Hey! You don't have to ask me twice. Him, either. So he changed his shirt, I changed my shoes, and we met back at my house to head out somewhere.

Except...I couldn't find my wallet. Which was odd, because I got home relatively late, so I hadn't been all over the house. There were only a few places it could have been, and it didn't appear to be in any of them. I went out to the car and looked through my bookbag, the trunk, under the front seat...nothing.

GF suggested I take her ATM card and just get cash from the joint account and be done with it. So I got her card and got in his car.

"Maybe I left it on my desk?" I mused. "Do you mind if we see if maybe a custodian is still floating around Lake Clifton?" He didn't mind, so we headed down Harford Road toward the Lake Clifton campus, where my office is located.

Before we got there, he spotted a drive-through ATM for the bank where he keeps his account, so he pulled in and got some money, then we were on our way. B likes to test the limits of his cars, so we were doing some fun maneuvers at interesting rates of speed. "I don't usually get to do this, because usually I've got the kids," he explained.

We got to the school and, it being very close to 9:00 and looking more or less deserted, it didn't look good. Just before we were about to give up on getting into the building, I spotted the silhouette of a custodian. Better still, it was one of the building's custodians whom I know. (This is a BIG school, so I don't know all of the maintenance people.) I explained the situation to her and she agreed to let me in and walked me up to the office. No dice.

There's a certain peace in knowing that it's not there, specifically. At least you've eliminated it. Especially with a three-day weekend ahead; you don't want that "maybe" hanging over your head. I threw in the towel at that point and we headed for another ATM to get money for me.

B stopped his car at a gas station on Greenmount and 33rd Street. I told him that I was going to just walk up to the ATM at the Bank of Americawhile he filled up. "Be careful," he told me. Hey, it's Baltimore: what can happen? As it turned out, I could forget the PIN for GF's card, but a quick phone call solved that one. I got in the car and off we went.

We didn't have a destination in mind, and since I'm not really familiar with the drinking establishments at the north end of town, I wasn't much help. However, I did remember seeing a place called Holiday House which I'd heard positive things about. So we headed up there and went inside. The sign out front promised a band called "Rain Dogs". 

Holiday House, it turns out, is almost nice enough to be called a "dive bar". We each got a beer and we sat at a table, sipping beer and listening to the Rain Dogs. This band is a bunch of guys who have about ten years or so on me, and it wasn't clear to me why they were playing here, or anywhere. It's not as though they were bad—in fact they weren't bad at all—but their demeanor was such that they expected to be treated as just so much background noise. So they'd play, for instance, the old Delbert McClinton song, "Givin' it Up For Your Love" and barely react to the smattering of applause they received. Then they'd just launch into the next mid-1970s number. We finished our drinks and got out.

B then suggested that we go to a place called The Haven, which he described as a Jazz club. I agreed, and off we went. When we got there, I felt kind of dumb. The Haven (actually, it's called the New Haven Lounge but the sign out front just reads "The Haven") is located in the Northwood Shopping Center. Between the McDonald's and the pharmacy in there, I've been in that plaza a hundred times, and I never knew this place was there. Before we went in, though, B started checking himself: he couldn't find the money he'd gotten from the ATM earlier. Mentally he retraced his steps and deduced that it must have fallen out of his jacket pocket at the Holiday House. He took this with a gentle good humor, though: "Oh well. Let me just go to the ATM over there."

The first ATM wasn't working right; the touch screen wasn't reacting correctly. The one next to it took his card but then never gave him the "enter your PIN" screen. After an interminable period, it finally spit his card back out. "Never mind," I said. "I've got fifty bucks, and we both have credit cards on us. We'll be OK."

We went in and of course there's a cover charge tonight (they don't do one every night, as I understand it). We order drinks and hit a table.

It's clear that this place is way different from the last one. People are here specifically to enjoy the live music. They're watching the band, which is a combo of guitar, drums, sax and organ. And I'm not talking cheesy little Yamaha electronic keyboard; this is a full-size, wooden-case, no-fooling-around jobbie. There was very little chatter going on in the audience; they were all paying attention to the music. They applauded after each solo and when the songs were over. And where the other band, once upon a time, would have been desperate for attention and is now grateful for it, this band (whose name I didn't catch, dammit) couldn't give a goddamn if anyone else was in the room. They sounded, and looked, as though they'd been freed by the music. They were fun to watch and fun to listen to.

So in the end, B lost his money and I lost my wallet, but we both had us some fun and got out for awhile.

And, of course, despite the (at least) ten-minute search before we left, I found my wallet in the house no more than thirty seconds after I arrived back home, I kid you not.

$20 vacation

Carl Evello: What does matter is that your work has been interrupted, your car wrecked, your life has been ruffled, to put it mildly. If you had not stopped to pick up Christina, not any of these things would have happened. So let's pretend you did not pick her up.

—Kiss Me Deadly (1955)
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You know, there are just some times when you have to walk away from certain parts of your life for awhile. This is why I took a three-week break from writing here.

Of course, since I'm one of the schmucks who doesn't have a free blogging service, I still get to pay for the domain, the redirect page and the Typepad fee, so either I was going to quit altogether or I was going to come back. Sucks to be you that I came back.

On the bright side, these last few weeks would have been little more than complaining. The short version is that my car did indeed break down for good, so we've been working through the logistics of using one car (with a little borrowed-vehicle action here and there) until we can put a few bucks in the bank, because...

...GF is finally back to work, following her TWO surgical procedures. The bad news is that she'd burned up all her sick days to a much greater extent than she thought she had. So her most recent paycheck (before the break), instead of being short by about two days' worth of pay, wound up being six dollars and change. Thank goodness we'd started putting some money into a savings account, but that's nearly gone now. Her last couple of weeks' pay will be about half of what it should be, since she's been working half-days. In addition to that financial hit...

...the renters on the Morrell Park house have decided to stop paying rent. (Yeah, I know what some of you told me. You were right, OK? Now shut up.) So I've been forced to go the eviction route again. Off to court, where they didn't show, and today I have to call the Sheriff's office to schedule the actual eviction, assuming they don't bail out of the house before that. I did get to use their security deposit, so that partially made up for the lost income from GF. However, we'll have to do some deep cleaning on the house to get it in shape for the next person to come in (you know, the one with actual references and stuff), so there won't be any January income from it either. And, of course, all this financial hit means that...

...I didn't get to visit my family for the holiday. So I've spent two consecutive Christmas Days in Baltimore, along with what's going to be my second New Year's Eve. GF's family was very nice and gracious and welcoming and stuff, but face it, it's not the same thing at all. Plus, it didn't help with my mother going the "this may be the last time you see your grandmother alive" routine. Which may be true, but that's not really the best route to go when you've got to watch nearly every dime for the next several weeks.

Anyway.

I'm back, and with a little luck I'll have stuff a little less whiny next time around. But don't count on it.

What's the Collective Term for Internet Nerds?

Dan Rydell: Come out with me.
Casey McCall: Where?
Dan: El Perro Fumando.
Casey: "The Smoking Dog"?
Dan: Yes.
Casey: Why?
Dan: If you wear something blue, you get $2 off a giant blue margarita.
Casey: You know, I make a pretty good living. I can actually afford to wear what I want and pay full price.
Dan: I'm not promoting the economic upside as much as I am the opportunity to drink something giant and blue.

—Sports Night, "Dear Louise" (11/10/98)

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I'm still not positive that I'm going to be there (dammit), but don't let that stop you from enjoying...

What: The October/November AKA Octovember Blogger Happy Hour.

With: Your hosts! Danielle and Charissa.

Who: Baltimore Bloggers. Any Bloggers. Blog Readers. People Known By Acronyms on Other People's Blogs. Me and You and Everyone We Know.

Where: Holy Frijoles, 908 W. 36th St., Hampden

When: Friday, November 2nd, 6pm.

Why: Beers. Bloggers. More beers. More Bloggers. Margaritas. What’s not to love?

Non-members of the ruling class welcome.

It's STILL a dumb argument. Go and have fun.

Return of Happy Hour

Man: Say Phil, what do you say to Happy Hour after work?
Phil: I'd say looks like Cheryl's gonna have another black eye to explain to the neighbors.
[both laugh]
Phil: Come on, I'm buyin'.

—Family Guy, "Let's Go to the Hop" (6/6/00)

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When I got back from my Disney excursion, naturally one of the first things I did was check on the backlog of email. Among the literally hundreds of emails I got (most of them spam) was a bunch discussing an upcoming event. By the time I got to read them, the discussion had completely wound down, and Snay had apparently managed not to kill himself in West Virginia. In reviewing Danielle's blog last night, apparently just being on the email list makes me somehow part of the ruling class, according to one person.

So anyway, I now share the details with you (cribbed from Danielle):

What: The October/November AKA Octovember Blogger Happy Hour.

With: Your hosts! Danielle and Charissa.

Who: Baltimore Bloggers. Any Bloggers. Blog Readers. People Known By Acronyms on Other People's Blogs. Me and You and Everyone We Know.

Where: Holy Frijoles, 908 W. 36th St., Hampden

When: Friday, November 2nd, 6pm.

Why: Beers. Bloggers. More beers. More Bloggers. Margaritas. What’s not to love?

It's a welcoming bunch, honest to god. Even the ruling class.

Planning Ahead

C.J. Cregg: Oh, boy, I like it when "In Style" magazine is issued press credentials. "Mirabella" wanted to know what wine is served with the fish course. So it's a good thing I went to school for 22 years.
Josh Lyman: What wine are we—
C.J. Cregg: It's wine, you'll drink it.

—The West Wing, "The State Dinner" (11/10/99)

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GF and I have already begun planning our annual holiday party. With a bigger house and a more open layout, we can afford to open up the guest list a little bit. We can also lay out the whole thing a little differently.

The old place, the house I'm now renting out, had a "railroad" style layout. This means that there was one wall that was common to every room in the house, and walls that didn't go all the way across would separate one room from the next. So you had living room, then the stairs to the second floor, then the dining room, then a wall and then the kitchen. And it was a straight shot from the front door to the back. (Bad feng shui, that.) So when people wanted to pass from one room to the next, there were bottlenecks that happened. The kitchen was also very much a working space, so we couldn't really entertain in there. So already our space was cut by a third. 

The other thing that gets to me is that I tend to spend too much time shuttling food back and forth and not nearly enough time schmoozing with the guests, so in addition to the guest list we need to work on the menu, so the food is a little more low-maintenance. I don't want to go entirely the cheese-and-crackers route, but I don't want to do a lot of stuff that will require intense use of utensils. Any suggestions in this arena will be more than welcome.

In addition to the food, I'm thinking that the beverage list is going to change as well. There will be more beer and wine drinkers than previously, methinks, so I'm going to have to figure out a way of putting a cooler in the room without making it look like there's a bigass cooler in the room, ya know? The galvanized tubs look neat and all, but I'm thinking that they'll tend to sweat all over whatever they're sitting on, plus I'm not sure they hold as much as you think they do. So...pondering that one too. 

Vacation, Mouse Style

Tim Taylor: A woman? You brought me here to see a woman?
Jill Taylor: I didn't know she was a woman. My gynecologist just said Dr. Kaplan was the best urologist in town.
Tim Taylor: How am I supposed to talk to a woman about what's going on in man land?
Jill Taylor: "Man Land?" Now you've got a theme park between your legs?

--Home Improvement, "The Vasectomy One" (2/6/96)

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Back in July, I was watching TV one fine evening when the phone rang. It was GF.

"Aren't you next door?" I asked her.

"Yes," she replied.

"Okay. Couldn't you have just, you know, hollered out the window or something?"

"Shut up," she explained. "I'm coming over with something."

As matters would have it, our next-door neighbors received a postcard from Walt Disney World with an offer on it: a room in a "moderate" hotel at the "economy" price. So a $150-ish room would go for about $85 instead. Plus, the trip would be on a special vacation plan, and during a specific time of the year, during the Epcot Food and Wine Festival, and it was all looking pretty attractive, especially inasmuch as I didn't get more than a couple of days off during the summer. The catch, however, was that the offer was nontransferable; if we wanted to take advantage of it, we'd have to go at the same time as our neighbors.

So we agreed to go along with our neighbors, which immediately upgraded our trip from a simple vacation to a "Magical Gathering". This entitled us to a few options that we really weren't prepared to deal with, but it was nice to know that they were there. Disney sent us special luggage tags that we put on our bags. When we got into the airport, we didn't bother with going to Baggage Claim; a Disney employee would get our stuff and it would be delivered to our room.

I called Daughter's mom and told her that if she'd fly Daughter down, I'd pay for everything else. She agreed and then promptly forgot about it. Fortunately she was a good sport about it later on when I told her how much the airfare was.  Then again, I was a good sport too, telling her that I could wait for the money since she's also a teacher but she doesn't get paid during the summer because she doens't work summer school.

So we flew down on Thursday morning. As we exited the gate area in Orlando, a person in a Disney uniform directed us to the shuttle buses. We checked into the bus area and they sent us to the correct line for our resort, which was the Port Orleans/Riverside. (This one used to be called Dixie Landings.) Our bags arrived no more than an hour after we did. We spent Thursday afternoon relaxing, either in the room or poolside. That night, we went to the Contemporary Resort (which, after over thirty years, not so much anymore, although it's undergoing renovation) to have dinner at the California Grill. This restaurant is a pretty high-end affair, and the food was fantastic. I could make recommendations, but the menu changes on a near-daily basis. I can, however, recommend the BLT flatbread as an appetizer if there are more than two in your party.  At the end of the meal we walked over to the outdoor observation deck to watch the fireworks over the Magic Kingdom. The music from the fireworks show was piped in to the deck's speakers.

On Friday, the Nextdoorekers did their own thing, fishing or swimming or something. We went to the MGM Studios park for the day. I'd never been there before, so that was kind of fun. And no lines at all! This isn't to say it wasn't busy, but anything we chose to do was easy to get into. We saw nearly everything by 4:30. We went back to the room to rest up a little and get our acts together for...

...the Magic Kingdom. On certain nights in October, and this was one of them, they close the park at 7:00 in order to admit a whole new crowd of people, the ones attending "Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween Party." Kids are encouraged to dress in costumes and they get opportunities to trick-or-treat throughout the park. Wee One brought a costume, but it was made of velour and we were afraid she'd die of heatstroke, so we talked her out of it. Which was OK with her, because she wasn't so much interested in the trick-or-treating as she was Space Mountain and the other big coasters in the park. As we got onto the bus, there were about fourteen thousand kids dressed as Jasmine, as Caribbean Pirates, as Alice (a lot of Alices, curiously), and so forth. My fear was that the place was going to be PACKED. In fact, it was, but mostly in Fantasyland, where the Carousel, the Teacups and the Shrieking Dolls are all located.  Nearly all the rides we went on, again, had absolutely zero line. In fact, in one case employees cast members were spotted telling riders that if they wanted to go again, they could just stay where they were and not bother exiting the ride. Wee One wanted to (and did) ride everything twice.

For those keeping score, both Pirates of the Caribbean and the Haunted Mansion have been updated.

On Saturday we all went to Epcot Center, although the two families didn't spend a lot of time together. Epcot is pretty cool, although it was busy (weekend day, after all, plus the Food and Wine Festival). I think next time I go there it'll be without kids. It's just not ride-intensive enough to keep them interested. We learned around 3:00 that the Nextdoorekers had bailed out because there was some rain, and they were absolutely exhausted. We left just ahead of the crowd, and spent some time in the pool and hot tub back at the hotel.

Sunday was mostly a travel day, so not much to say about that, except that GF's mother picked us up at the airport and it turned out that she'd made us some potato soup for dinner. So, no cooking that night! Relaxing!

So I'm back in Baltimore and catching up with stuff I've missed, and still in a bit of afterglow from the trip. And how was YOUR weekend?