Date #11 - Who invited Rita?

I interrupt this post about Date #11 for a very important update about the Blue Velour Shirts:

So here I am thinking that TH read this blog, or somebody tattled, and that he had retired the shirts forever...or at the very least for this winter. TH had not worn either shirt at all since I'd returned from the west coast at the end of February.

Winter turned into spring and the shirts stayed in hibernation. I was so shocked that I even questioned TH as to whether he had read this blog or had learned of it's contents...but he swore he had no idea. This was the first March in 15 years that the Blue Shirts did not leave the closet...not once...Farewell, Bon Voyage, Good Riddance and Halleluiah.

Until this week...

when the blue velour came out of retirement. Four days into the month of April.

Are you kidding me? But wait, it gets far worse. TH also wore blue velour on April 5th and April 6th.....three days in a row!

I was so relieved when I arrived from work today and TH was wearing something other than blue velour. But the shirts are probably biding their time in the hamper waiting for a chance to make another appearance. I wish I knew how to put a counter on this blog...because I'm going to start counting the days until they resurface again.

Any bets? Will they reappear again this spring or will they stay out of view until the fall? I'll keep you posted.

Now back to our date.....

Car Talk, The Musical.

TH and I don't have similar tastes when it comes to most things...but we both love Car Talk. My Dad was an auto mechanic, but none of his knowledge filtered down to me. And TH is not mechanically inclined either. We don't set an alarm or go out of our way to listen to it, but if it's Saturday and we're in the car, you can bet NPR is on the radio and we're laughing out loud at Ray & Tom Magliozzi. I've even taken my car to their garage in Cambridge, just around the corner from our son's home.

I recently received an alumni mailing from Suffolk University that advertised this musical to be performed by students at the university's new stage at the Modern Theatre. Now as much as I love musicals, I usually go with my best friend, M, because TH has been known to sleep through the few that he and I have attended together. I'd never heard of this musical, but when I mentioned that the show was inspired by Car Talk, TH expressed immediate interest.

So off we went. It's so exciting being on the lower end of Washington Street in the evenings now, with the Paramount, The Opera House, and the Modern Theatre lined up in a row with their brightly lit signs. Who would ever have believed that Suffolk would have its own modern theatre someday? Unfortunately, I'm embarrased to admit, I never contributed one penny to any development fund that might have made this possible. But I will try to be a patron for future theatrical events.

There was general seating for this show and, when we arrived, the front three rows were unoccupied. The seats in the 2nd and 3rd rows all had Reserved Parking signs on them...but the front row was wide open so that's where we planted ourselves. In retrospect, maybe not such a good idea (more on that later).

The show was great. It was a cute love story that lasted just over an hour, with no intermission. While there was some original music....most of the songs were hilarious parodies of well known and beloved show tunes from just about every hit Broadway musical. Click n' Clack never made an appearance, but their recorded voices boomed from the role of the Wizard offstage. The students did a fantastic job, and I do hope they get the opportunity to perform the show beyond the six scheduled productions. It was a lot of fun.

And why weren't our front row seats not the best seats in the house? For two reasons. The first being that we were directly over the four-piece orchestra, and their music quite often drowned out the song lyrics.

The second reason...

ummm.....someone started to nod off in front of the performers.

and No it was not TH ...it was your truly. Me!

Oh the mortification. I never really dozed, but it was a struggle to keep my eyes open as I did my best to not imitate a bobble-head doll.

Full disclosure. Before the show we went to dinner at a Mexican restaurant with our son's family, B-L-C. And I washed down my salad with an extra large margarita. LOL. I was sauced after just one drink!! I just cannot drink tequila...and I actually tried to order my drink with champagne instead of tequila because I knew it was dangerous, but Jose Cuervo (or one of his relatives) got the best of me.

When we first sat down at the theatre, I sent my son this picture of the stage and bragged about our front row seats. It wasn't until the next morning I realized he responded with a text to tell me that the picture was blurry and remind me that I was drunk.

My sincerest apologies to all the talented performers who might have witnessed the old lady with the nods in the front row. The show was great, and you were not responsible for putting me to sleep...it was that damn waiter that messed up my drink order!

Date #10 - Down by the Sea

For our tenth date, we went to visit an old familiar place....

the ocean.

We actually went to dinner across the street from the ocean, at the Fairview Inn Restaurant at Brant Rock in Marshfield. We had a gift card that was a Christmas present from our favorite six-year-old triplets (and their parents). We've been hanging out with these boys since they were born but, unfortunately, we don't get to see them as often since they left our neighborhood. They are so well behaved and we enjoy every opportunity we get to spend with them. In fact, we had hung out with the boys just the day before.

On Sunday we had an outdoor activity planned for our 10th date. However, even though the calendar said we were one week into spring, the thermometer reminded us that winter keeps a stronger hold on us than even that groundhog predicts. Since it was still so cold out, and rather than spend the day at home, we opted for a dinner date instead.

The restaurant was about a 40 minute ride from our home, but it was well worth the trip. We had cozy seats near the wood burning fireplace, with a spectacular view of the Atlantic from our table, a split of champagne for me, and Merlot for TH... a great place to while away a Sunday afternoon.  

For dinner, I ordered  two appetizers: the lobster quesadilla and the lump crab cake. while TH had a steak dinner. We pretty much licked our platters clean...the food was fabulous. Unfortunately, we didn't save any room for dessert. After draining our wine glasses and paying the bill, we crossed the street to sit on the sea wall and reminisce.

Nothing bad ever happens when we're near the ocean. We could stare at it all day long, in every season, and all sorts of weather, and still be awed. The novelty never wears off. And we never, ever, bicker when we're looking out to sea...it's like sacred ground. While there may be mountains, forests, and lakes that are every bit as majestic... nothing is as breath-taking as the ocean.

When we were dating we spent many hours at the shore, walking along the beach, riding our bikes, and making plans for our future. For some odd reason, we used to dream about one day living on a house boat. Of course, that was long before children and careers, when we were carefree and thought the future was endless. The reality is that we are not boaters, and have never owned a boat.

But the sea still calls to us after all these years together. We still love to take long walks, ride our bikes or drive road trips along the coast. Together we've driven the Pacific Coast Highway from San Diego to San Francisco, the intercoastal waterway from Florida to Virginia, the Maryland and Jersey Shores, and the entire New England coast from New Haven to Bar Harbor. It just never gets old. And how lucky are we to now be able to share walks with our grandsons along both the Atlantic and Pacific shores?

Unfortunately, as the sun started to go down on Sunday, the cold quickly chased us off the sea wall and back to our car. But we made one more stop on the drive home....for dessert, at Pinkberry's. So while it wasn't one of our more exciting, or original dates, we had a great time together...and that's really all that matters. You can't beat a day of good food, good wine, and good conversation with your best friend. It's what great memories are made of!

And all too soon we were home, where we are fortunate to live just a block from the beach. It makes me sad to think that there are millions of people in this world who have never seen an ocean. I pray I never have to live away from the coast and I count my blessings every day.

Date #9 - You Gotta Have Art

Before I start to tell you about our latest date, I have to comment on an earlier blog post.

While I was in California, I took a moment to whine about TH having worn the same blue velour shirts for 15 years. Well, I've been home now for 19 days, and TH has not worn either shirt since my return....not once.

Which can only mean one of two things. Either TH has finally figured out how to read this blog (doubtful), or one of you faithful readers took pity on me (or him) and squealed. Either way...it has worked. No more blue shirts.

And let me tell you what else this fashion plate did while I was away. We have a guest bedroom and, when it is unoccupied, I store my bulkier coats and suits in that closet. TH will sometimes stash his sweaters in the bureau drawers in that room. However, since our younger son and his family were visiting from the west coast, we cleared all our stuff out of the spare room before they arrived and crammed it back into our own closets.

When I returned home and unpacked my suitcase, I tried to make room in my closet once again. But lo and behold, there wasn't any room in the spare bedroom closet either. While I was away, TH apparently cleaned out his own closets and drawers and pretty much filled the spare closet and all the guest bureau drawers with his stuff. And this isn't off-season clothes, either...that gets stored down the spare room in the basement.

So I suppose that could be another reason why I haven't seen the blue shirts since. TH finally realized how much more casual clothes he owns that he doesn't have to wear the same thing over and over.

Okay, we now return to our regularly scheduled post....date #9. This was TH's choice and you'll never guess where he took us. This man continues to surprise me. We went to Boston's Museum of Fine Arts.

Now TH and the arts aren't usually found together in the same neighborhood, or even in the same sentence. This is a man who has never shown any interest in music, acting, photography, writing, drawing, painting, dance.....Not creating it, or admiring it....NADA!

I belong to the South Boston Arts Association and, when I was more involved, I would often drag TH along with me to open studios, poetry slams, gallery events, and other displays/performances. TH usually came along willingly (because there was almost always free wine and cheese available), but while there he would mostly commiserate with the few other non-artistic spouses and so he decided to create a club just for them. He quite appropriately called it the ASSES, although I never quite figured out what the acronym stood for...something about artists and their supportive spouses. Needless to say, they don't meet regularly.

And in thirty five years of marriage, TH and I have been to exactly two art museums together. One was the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, MA. We stopped there to break up the long ride back from Buffalo one summer. The other was the Getty in Los Angeles that we visited with a large group of family and friends. I loved both museums. As for TH....well, he was along for the ride. And he has NEVER, EVER, been to the MFA...not once in the 60 plus years he has lived in this city.

So imagine my shock when TH suggested we visit the MFA as one of our dates. (And NO....he didn't get the idea from the POTUS. He actually mentioned this about two months before Obama attended a fundraiser there last week.)

The shock subsided rather quickly, however, when TH brought home the tickets. He handed me two VIP passes. Correction: two Complimentary VIP passes. TH had scored a pair of FREE admission passes, with free parking included. THAT's the reason we were going to the MFA. The only reason. LOL.

Although it was yet another Saturday morning date, with no alcohol involved, we both had a nice time. Because the museum is huge (it would take weeks to explore fully), we arrived when it opened at 10am. Our first stop was the current exhibit by our DIL (or someone with the exact same name LOL).

Then we moved on to Nicholas Nixon's exhibit: Family Album. It's a fascinating collection by a local photographer, and features a series of photos that he took yearly of his wife and her three sisters, starting in 1975, the same year we were married. It was very moving to see the progression of time reflected on the faces of those four women and really hit home just how long a span of life there is in 35 years.

From there we dedicated the next couple hours to the Art of the Americas Wing. Wonderful...that's all I can say. We were in awe to see such national treasures. We are truly fortunate to live in a world class city with so much history. My favorite collection was the folk art....there's something about that medium that warms my heart and makes me very nostalgic.

And I was introduced to a new favorite artist: Scott Prior. I was entranced by a self-portrait of the artist and his wife in their bedroom...could barely pull myself away from it. It was an oil on linen, but looked so lifelike, almost like a photograph. Even TH was impressed. See it here. 

We had a late and leisurely lunch in the Garden Cafeteria overlooking the sunny courtyard...where we even discussed some of the impressive artwork we'd just seen. After lunch, we took a quick stroll through the gift shop. I'm always amazed that these gift shops sell fine jewelry. Now I can understand someone purchasing an expensive work of art at an museum gift shop...but jewelry? We didn't buy anything, of course. At this stage of the game, we just don't need any more 'stuff' in our lives.

Before leaving the museum, we stopped at one of my favorite galleries, the Egyptian collection in the Art of the Ancient World. TH was just as intrigued as I've always been to see the mummy cases and artwork from the burial tombs. Amazing craftsmanship that has stood the test of time.

And then we were ready to call it a date.

Indeed, it was not a bad way to spend the last day of (this seemingly never-ending) winter.

Date #8 - A New Way to Spar

TH and I went to a wedding together after we'd been married around 5 years. Seated at our table was a newlywed couple and, when they heard how looong we'd been married, the young husband asked TH for the secret to our looong marriage. As I giggled, TH didn't hesitate before answering, "We never go to bed angry."

Are we still married because we've never gone to bed angry??  Nope, we've never gone to bed angry.....because we stay up all night and argue.

Sorry, I couldn't resist the tired cheesy punch line. But the truth of the matter is that TH and I bicker. All the time. And THAT's why we are still married.

There are no pretenses in our relationship, no hidden hurt feelings, no silent treatment when one is angry. Nope...if one of us is upset, the other one will hear it... immediately. We don't swear at each other, ever. We are never disrespectful, and we try not to say anything we will ever regret.  I know it bothers our sons when we bicker, but the bottom line is that we get it off our chest, whatever is bothering us...and then it's OVER. Case closed. We just don't stay mad or hold grudges.

But this weekend we discovered a new way to settle our battles...FENCING!

The idea for date #8 arrived in my email inbox from Groupon. $29 each for four lessons in fencing. Well, why not. Let's give it a try!

It turns out that beginner fencing classes for adults are at 10am on Saturday mornings. Not exactly date nite, but we are flexible. The fencing club is on the second floor of a large building complex in an industrial park in Wilmington....about a 30 minute drive. We arrive at 9:45 as instructed, but the office is locked, so we explore the second floor which is completely uninhabited....and under construction.

It appears we are the only ones in the building and it is pretty scary that we are able to walk around in such an unsafe environment. We eventually find a rec.room next door to the fencing club where TH and I spend the next 10 minutes playing ping pong until the coaches finally arrive and open the doors.

Fencing was a whole new world for us, and our date was a lot of fun. We met the owner who was an olympic pentathelete that competed in three olympiads for three different countries. Our coach was a young man from Bulgaria who really did a great job introducing us to all the equipment and etiquette of fencing. After some warm up exercises, we learned some basic footwork and practiced "touching" our targets. It was amazing how quickly we caught on. It felt like we were kids again imitating Errol Flynn or playing Three Musketeer sword fights...engarde!

Then we were ready to suit up. I got a big kick out of the protective armor that ladies wear under their jackets...made me feel like I was finally a 'C' cup. LOL

It was interesting to learn that men wear chest protectors also, but they do NOT wear protective cups. And, although every part of the body is fair game during the bout, apparently the family jewels are off limits...gentleman's etiquette.

After we were dressed, we plugged one end of our jackets into the epee, and the other into an electronic score box....and we were ready to bout.

The first fencer to reach five "touches" wins the bout. I won the first match, TH won the second, and I won the rubber game. YES.

Unfortunately, the hour lesson passed all too quickly. It was really enjoyable, and I was amazed at how much we learned in that first lesson. However, even though our Groupon entitles us to four lessons each, I'm afraid we won't be returning.

Because, really, what's the point? (no pun intended). After the 4 lessons...then what? It's not like we would join the fencing club, purchase the gear, or start competing. But it was fun while it lasted. 

I guess it's back to bickering.

He Wore Blue Velvet

I'm still in sunny Santa Monica, and TH is back in cold snowy Boston, so we haven't been on any recent dates. But there is something I desperately need to get off my chest. (or more accurately....off of TH's chest).

In 1996, our family spent the Christmas Holiday break in Alberta, Canada. I have many fond memories from that trip that I will remember and treasure always:

• Our son J was playing for Team USA in the World Under-17 Hockey Championships;
• Our son B was on break from Tulane and joined us on the trip;
• We met the O family from Amherst, NY who instantly become dear friends - both sons later lived with us at separate times while in high school prior to successful collegiate and pro hockey careers;
• I saw the northern lights for the first time;
• and the Rocky Mountains;
• I visited the most beautiful place I have ever seen on this earth - Lake Louise, Banff, in winter;

There were, however, some memories from that trip that I'd just as soon forget:

• I shopped at the world's largest mall in Edmonton, and didn't buy one thing;
• It was so cold that we had to plug in our rental car every night so the engine block wouldn't freeze;
• The hockey team did not do so well;
• and....(drum roll) TH wore Blue Velvet

Okay, I'm lying. It wasn't blue velvet. It was actually blue velour. Navy blue velour shirts. Two different ones. And I actually bought them for him.

In 1996, we didn't yet have internet access and the world was a much larger place than it is today. When we heard that our son would be playing in Alberta, Canada...we instantly pictured Siberia. There was no weather channel dot com where we could look up the ten day forecast. At best we had a few almanacs from the library, some AAA travel guides, and word of mouth from a few hockey coaches who had traveled there before us. Two words stood out....bitter and cold.

And we didn't have the wardrobe to withstand those temperatures. So I went shopping and purchased skiwear, hats, long johns, mittens, polar fleece, corduroy, scarfs, shearling, wool...

...and two navy blue velour shirts for TH. I was walking through Filene's (boy do I ever miss that store), saw the shirts and thought they would be a warm addition to TH's wardrobe. He loved them, and wore them repeatedly on the trip.

And when we returned home.

And for the rest of that winter.

And the following year, as soon as the temperature dipped slightly in the fall, there they were....his favorite shirts.

And the year after, from early autumn through late spring, TH wore his blue velour.

And every single year since. FOR FIFTEEN WINTERS.

If you have ever seen TH at any time from October through April, I guarantee you have seen him in one or both of these blue velour shirts.

oh....and he doesn't wear them just once or twice per season....he wears each one at least once, if not twice, PER WEEK!! 

On our last date, when we went out to eat after snowboarding, we had a long discussion about these shirts...because of course he was wearing one at the time. I begged him to please retire the shirts. TH recently had a birthday and we bought him some great casual attire, so it's not like he doesn't have anything else to wear.

But, No, he won't retire them, he tells me. He loves them. They are warm, and they are still in great shape. All the more reason, I cajole, to donate them to a homeless shelter where they will be appreciated. But TH won't let me donate them. Or throw them away (my first choice).

I try to hide them in the bottom of the clothes hamper, and if I'm doing the laundry I will purposely omit them from the wash. But TH is very good about sharing the laundry duties, and as soon as he runs low on T-shirts, or underwear, or blue velour shirts....he will be down the basement washing clothes.

So, dear reader, I ask you....what's a wife to do?

We haven't survived 35 years of marriage without compromise. And at this stage of the game, I've learned to pick my battles...and this definitely isn't one worth fighting over.

But come on now....seriously? 15 years of blue velour?!

And I'll guarantee he's worn them repeatedly the entire week I've been away.

I think I finally understand the closing lyrics when Bobby Vinton sang, "And I still can see blue velvet, through my tears!"

Date #7 - It's All Downhill

Long before we became a hockey family, we were downhill skiers. We skied when we were dating, and we continued skiing after we were married and had our son B. We had our own equipment (back when skis had safety straps, LOL). But once hockey took over our lives, skiing took a back seat. I can only remember a handful of times that TH and I skied together after son J was born. TH owned several businesses and he had very few days off, so usually my friend MC and I took our four boys skiing, but that decreased as the older boys approached their teens.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I had a bucket list long before they were popular. However, mine was called a "Fast Forward to 50" list....but unfortunately I wasn't able to check all 50 items off the list between my 40th and 50th birthdays, so thus it has now morphed into a bucket list.

One item on my wish list was to SKI IN COLORADO. It had always been a dream, and I was able to check that off in November 2000 when our son J was playing hockey for BU in Denver. MC and her husband JC joined us on the trip, and we stayed an extra day so we could ski. Well... MC and I skied... while TH and JC went to the casino. However, as wonderful as that experience was, it was also incredibly painful. I think it had been at least 12 years since I had last skied and I was SO out of shape, my knees were throbbing. But I had never skied on such beautiful fluffy powder and I'm still so grateful for the opportunity.

One of the other items on that original bucket list was SNOWBOARDING. How difficult would it have been to check that off the list? But somehow, I never got near a mountain again in the next ten years after Colorado. When son J moved to California, he took up the sport, and on many of my visits he offered to teach me but (really?) when I go to Southern California the last thing I want to look at is... snow.

The crazy thing is that we live 20 minutes away from a ski area, The Blue Hills. True to its name, it really is just a big hill on the outskirts of the city, and what better place to learn to snowboard? So last year I was determined to learn before the winter was over, but I waited for a warm day. On March 17th, which is a school holiday in Boston (Evacuation Day), I dragged out my skiwear and drove to the Blue Hills... only to discover that the ski area had closed for the season two days before. HaHa.

Oh well...as long suffering Boston sports fans, we know "there's always next year!"

Now this winter, as we were starting to plan our 35 dates, imagine my shock when TH suggested we go skiing together. Really?

This is a man who hates the cold, he's passed his 60th birthday, he hates being out in the cold, he's had a heart attack, he hates being cold, and it's been more than 20 years since he last skied.

It just so happens that on the same day TH recommended this date, in my email was a great discount deal from BuyWithMe.com for the Blue Hills Ski Area. I didn't hesitate, lest TH changed his mind. For $35 each, I purchased vouchers for lift tickets, equipment rentals, and lessons. And they could be redeemed for skiing or.... (wait for it) snowboarding. 



YES!





When I suggested to TH that we both try snowboarding, he emphatically said NO.

Bummer. Will it still count as a date if TH is skiing and I'm snowboarding? If we are in two separate classes? If we are on different parts of the hill? We agreed that it would count because, after our respective lessons, we would meet up and spend the rest of the date together.

Well last weekend the weather was perfect. After back-to-back-to-back blizzards, and temperatures in the single digits, the Sunday forecast called for bright sunshine and temps above the freezing mark. The ski area was only open until 5, so we arrived at 9:15 in time for the 10 am lesson.

However, the parking lot was completely filled. The annoying thing was that there were two attendants at the entrance that let all the cars drive in and snake their way through to the exit, where THAT attendant told us it was race day. When we asked where we could park, he just shrugged and told us we were on our own. We tried two more lots, but they were both filled and the attendants warned us against parking on the road, where they towed.

Strike Two for snowboarding at the Blue Hills. So home we went, pissed off, with no other plans for the day. I'm not sure why we didn't drive to the next closest ski area an hour away.

By 11:30, however, I was restless and still in my ski layers. I called the ski area to find out when the races ended, and if the parking situation had improved. I was told to come on down because the races would end at noon, and most skiers had purchased morning lift tickets only that expired at 1. So back we went.

When we reached the counter to redeem our vouchers, the teenage girl asked if we were skiing or snowboarding. One of each, I told her, just as TH interrupted and said, "No, we're both snowboarding."
Wow, really? When I looked at TH curiously, he just shrugged and said, "Why not?" And he was even so brave as to not request a helmet.

First stop, boot rental. Once again I had brought three pair of socks and tried not to think about the persons who wore those boots before me. But, LOL, when they gave us the boots, it was a little embarrassing to admit to the cute teenage boys that we had no idea how to lace them up or tighten them.

Next stop, board rental. The first thing the old guy asked was, "Are you regular?...or goofy?" Of course, TH chimed right in and answered, "Oh, I'm definitely goofy!" Normally I would agree with that statement, but turns out we were both regular (that means you lead down the hill with your left foot at the top of the board).

On to the lesson. They gave us our own instructor... probably because we were the oldest in the snowboard group and would have definitely slowed down all the 20-somethings who were waiting to learn. Of course our teacher, Matt, was only in high school himself. But he was very patient with us and loved the idea that he was part of our 35 dates.

He taught us how to put our boards on, and ride to the top of the Bunny Hill....on a conveyor belt... right next to the magic carpet ride that the little kiddies rode to the Munchkin slope. Ha Ha.

With Matt's help, we made it down the hill several times before the hour lesson was over. And then we were on our own. Once we were up on the board we were fine, but the struggle was getting up on the board.

For those of you who have never tried snowboarding...you ride the lift with just one boot strapped on. When you get to the top, you have to sit on your ass, strap your other foot in, and then attempt to stand up (with nothing to hold onto) without toppling over. I spent many hours studying the young snowboarders around us and it amazed me how effortlessly they were able to move from their butts into a standing position in one effortless motion. But we just couldn't do it. So TH and I had to help each other up every time.

Once we were on our way down the hill, it was awesome. The sun was shining, there was no wind, it was a great day to be on the slopes. I WAS FINALLY SNOWBOARDING! I could have stayed out there for hours. Unfortunately, TH's calves were cramping so he called it quits after several runs. But, being the great guy that he is, he hiked back up the hill with me and stayed up there to help me get up on the board every time.

About an hour (and a few face plants) later, I also had to concede because my butt was sore. (Who would have thought I didn't have enough padding there? LOL) Also killing me was the fleshy part of my palms, just beneath my thumbs...what is that part of the hand called? Whatever they are, they took the brunt of my falls that day.

This was my favorite date so far. It was one of those rare occasions where you laugh all day and fall in love all over again. No bickering. A perfect day.

And our date wasn't over. After we returned our equipment and dragged our tired old bodies back to the car, we went out to dinner. Nothing like outdoor activity to stimulate your appetite.

TH's birthday was the week before, and he had a complimentary coupon for a free entree at Isabella's in Dedham. Since we were in the neighborhood, we decided to cash it in. Two of the servers there also work in the school department, and one of them, D, was working that evening so she took good care of us. TH had meatloaf, and I had a wonderful salad with grilled shrimp, preceded by an absolutely delicious butternut squash soup. Ah...did I mention this was my favorite date.

We skipped dessert because the champagne and wine had made us pretty mellow, and we were stifling yawns by the time the check arrived. A perfect ending to a perfect day.

When I spoke to son J the next day, I told him how much we'd loved snowboarding, but explained the difficulty I had getting on the board (I even tried it at home and still couldn't get to a standing position from sitting on the floor...it was impossible). That's when he told me that, at the top of the mountains, they have benches to sit on and fasten your boards. He had NEVER sat on his butt in the snow to strap on. Are you kidding me?!?! Thanks for the tip, Matt. It was still fun....but next time I'm taking the lift to the top.

This will be our last date until March. Our grandbaby M arrives this week and we plan to spend every waking moment with him, when we're not working. Then I will fly back to California with them for the last week of the month...so, unless TH takes separate dates while I'm away, the tally will remain at seven for now.

And if anyone has any great date ideas....we're open to any/all suggestions.

But don't go too far away. Check back often because I have more tales to tell (about bickering and blue shirts). Stay tuned.

Date #6 - Marriage on the rocks (with lots of ice)

For 25 of our 35 married years, we spent more time in ice rinks than anywhere else on this planet. We probably watched our sons skate in 48,000 games and practices, and logged several hundred thousand miles traveling to many hundreds of rinks, in at least 30 different US states and four Canadian provinces. Some of that might be an exaggeration, but you get the picture....we spent a lot of our waking moments in rinks.

And can I tell you that those rinks were cold?
Ice cold!

You've all heard the stories about hockey parents: out shoveling in the dark to be at the rink before 5am, driving to Quebec in a blizzard, trying to tie skates when your fingers are frozen claws, standing on concrete so cold your toes might sting if you'd had any feeling left in them, skipping a day at the beach to pull on overcoats and gloves, having your snot hang in icicles from your nose, dribbling hot chocolate down your chin because your hands won't stop shaking or your teeth chattering....well those stories, dear readers, are not just romantic folklore. That was our life. Been there, done that....over and over and over again!

I'm sure you know the definition of insanity (doing the same thing over again while expecting different outcomes)...that was us, INSANE. But the silver lining was that we had plenty of company in the deep freeze, they are now life-long friends, who shared the asylum with us. Somehow we managed to convince ourselves there was no place else we'd rather be...that's MY definition of Insanity!

Can I tell you about the rinks? Did I mention they were cold? Some far more than others. The community-owned rinks were pretty severe, but by far the worst offenders were the private school rinks... Dexter, Fessenden, Milton Academy, St. Seb's. They were worse than barns....a barn would have been an improvement. Milton only had three walls! Dexter was a Coleman cooler with aluminum sides. Seriously, these schools charged a zillion dollars for tuition, had billionaire alums and benefactors, and they couldn't afford to insulate their rinks? But at least they had rinks on campus. Our younger son's school, Thayer, didn't even have its own rink....and the private facility where they skated, Pilgrim Arena, was just another fancy icebox.

But lo and behold, just as our sons were aging out of youth and high-school hockey, newer rinks were built that actually took pity on the frostbitten parents. Rinks today have Dunkin Donuts (Bridgewater) and warm lounges with adult beverages in the arena and shopping malls next door (Marlboro). But unfortunately our sons were born a decade too early and we didn't get to enjoy the luxury of the new and improved private school rinks. Milton Academy, Dexter, Andover, BB&N....they all built brand new sports complexes. St.Sebs renovated and insulated their arena. and Thayer Academy moved their game to a brand new sportplex in Canton.

Now when one of my dear high school friends (MJ) heard about our 35 dates, she recommended a hockey game. Her younger son, who has the same name as our younger son, is now a student at Thayer and she thought we'd enjoy strolling back down memory lane to watch the black and orange play. When I told TH, he loved the idea. (Did I mention all those hours in the cold numbed our minds and killed off many brain cells?)

However, when MJ sent us the link to the team's schedule, we discovered there was only one game we could attend. It was an Away game against Roxbury Latin and it was being played at Dexter. Had this been 15 years earlier, we would have passed on the opportunity to watch one more game in that frozen tin can. But we didn't hesitate because Dexter now has a beautiful (warm) new sports arena.

We were quite impressed as we drove onto the campus where there is now a grand planetarium as well. And we were able to park on the roof of the complex and take an indoor staircase two flights down to the bleachers. Now THIS is how to watch a hockey game.

We didn't see our friends in the stands, but we watched the players warming up to see if we could pick out their son. Just as we realized that the home team was wearing Dexter sweaters, we heard someone behind us ask where the Roxbury Latin team was playing. We also heard the dreaded answer: "Oh, they're playing Thayer... across the street... in the old rink."

TH and I just looked at each other and grinned like fools. We didn't say a word, just followed that man out the door, across the street, down the ramp, and into our worst nightmare. The OLD Dexter rink.

It was like stepping back in time. Nothing had changed. It was still brutally cold, and you had to stand on aluminum bleachers (with no backs) to get your toes off the floor and to (barely) see over the safety glass.
And MJ never showed, she was in Nashville visiting another son, but her husband JJ soon joined us and it was good to see him.

Once we got over the absurdity of the situation, we did enjoy watching the game. Our son's old athletic director was behind the bench, and MJ's son played a phenomenal game. He has incredible speed and great finesse, although he did get a penalty which brought back fond memories of our own 'Jack in the Box.' He's one of the bigger players on the team, and I have a feeling we'll be watching him play more often (in warmer rinks, of course). Here's a photo of #28.

Turns out that he was not the only player we knew on the team. There were three other players (from both teams) with South Boston connections, so we enjoyed cheering for this game. But one thing TH and I both noticed....we were pretty much the only spectators clapping. It was the quietest crowd I'd ever heard! The game was a 4-0 shutout in Thayer's favor, but you'd never know because neither side was cheering. Are today's hockey parents so pampered by their plush new rinks that their hands froze inside their pockets when they experienced old-school hockey?

When that final buzzer sounded, we couldn't get out of there fast enough and into our heated car where we attempted to get the blood circulating in our extremeties again. The date was far from over, however, as we hadn't eaten yet. But first we had to make a stop at a wake in Cambridge for the mother of TH's co-worker. Did I mention this was a Friday nite? And that we had to travel from Brookline to Cambridge at rush hour on snow-clogged streets that were mostly reduced to one lane? Needless to say, we had PLENTY of time to thaw our fingers and toes.

After the wake, we drove through Inman Square and we were so hungry that we stopped at the first restaurant that had a parking space out front. Turned out to be a very good choice: S&S Restaurant.
This restaurant has apparently been open since 1919, and it has a genuine kosher deli in addition to many other menu selections. We arrived around 6:30 and they seated us in the lounge area, where we quickly noticed that every patron, every server, even the lovely barmaid, had grey hair. I almost expected them to ask us for senior citizen IDs. The couples sitting at the bar appeared to be regulars that knew each other and dined there often. I think I would enjoy hanging out with that crew if we lived closer.

The champagne was served by the glass and it was just "eh", but my meal was delicious. I had crab and shrimp cakes in the most delicious lemon sauce, with butternut squash. TH had merlot and a Rachel (LOL). He was most excited about the half-sour pickles. Then we shared a molten lava chocolate cake with whipped cream and ice cream. Delicious. I swear I would eat liver if it had whipped cream on it...can never get enough!! I highly recommend the S&S Restaurant if you are ever in Inman Square.

I think, however, we may have to stop including restaurants as part of our dates, because it's hard to be good when there are so many delicious (fattening) options to wash down with wine. And TH rarely passes up dessert, that of course I need to sample. With all this snow, we can't ride our bikes or take walks with our grandson....so unless we're shoveling, we are pretty sedentary in the winter.

What's that, you say.. visit a gym?

What's that?