Massachusetts 351

A photo a day this leap year

2012-01-06T21:31:00.014-05:00

Just for fun I'm taking a photo each day in 2012. Apparently, it's a leap year, so it'll be 366.

So far it's been a fun creative outlet and an easy way to chronicle daily life in Massachusetts. The photos have to be from my smartphone to make uploading easy enough to complete each day; so picture quality is sometimes suspect. And I'm using a Polaroid-type filter, which I might end up loving or hating in the end.

Anyway, here's what I've got so far...

What creative projects are you planning on 2012?

One family from Hudson's 2011

2011-12-31T14:30:00.007-05:00

Thought some of you might enjoy this. We took a stab at the annual holiday letter this year in the cards we mailed out...

Season’s greetings everyone!

Another year has gone by and because I’m not as good as I should be at keeping in touch, here is a family update...

Will spent his terrible twos not being quite as terrible as he could have been. His top phrases of 2011 included “Will you play with me?” and “No Levi.” Each of which was uttered several dozen times per day. His favorite activities in 2011 included play dough, puzzles, blocks, toy cars - and throwing rocks in bodies of water. He does like being a big brother, so far, but still does not like eating more than a dozen foods, 11 if you don't include juice pops. He likes to set up his trains in the bathroom and believes wearing shoes is a punishment. For Christmas he told Santa he wanted “Diesel.” Not action star Vin Diesel from the movie Fast and Furious, but a curmudgeonly character on the Thomas the Train show.

Laura spent 2011 in the hardest role of all: living with three males. She spent the first half of the year as uncomfortable as you might expect and the second half more comfortable, but also more tired. She’s looking forward to getting a good night’s sleep when she retires. I honestly don’t know how the moms of the world do it. Recently, she said this revealing quote with her characteristic wit: “I sometimes think you boys are all conspiring against me.” I’m sure it’s sometimes tough for her to discern which of the males in her house whine the most; my guess is the 32-year-old. But Laura does her best to balance it all: breadwinner, bread maker, baby soother, boss lady, Star Wars hater.

In many ways my 2011 was a lot like previous years. I spent a considerable amount of time on highways after I missed my correct exit. I deliberated until December to spend money I got for my birthday in July. I continued a love/hate relationship with the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches Will and I eat almost every day for lunch. The highlight of my year, besides the birth of my second son of course, has been trying to start a community garden in town. The irony is I don't have much of a green thumb. So I'll probably just let Will run our plot in the spring. When I’m not working various part-time journalism jobs, I’m taking care of the cherubs a few days a week, crashing stay-at-home mom playgroups and story times.

Levi spent half of 2011 in a comfortably warm and peaceful semi-darkness where everything was perfect and quiet. And the other half of the year he spent wondering who he wronged in a previous life to be stuck with such a wacky dad and even wackier brother. Levi enjoys messing with anything Will is playing with and chewing on anything that will fit in his mouth, including his own shoes. He is a curious introvert who makes you think he’s harmless, but if you turn your back for a second, he’ll scoot across the house and climb up some piece of furniture looking for trouble. His goofy grin confirms how proud he is of himself for achieving such feats. For Christmas he asked for world peace, but instead he’s getting more bibs for his unrelenting drool.

Wishing you tidings of great joy, Bobb

Just a few hours left to 2011. Forgive me if the ubiquitous family photo slideshow of the year is a bit trite. We just can't help ourselves.

If you'd like some theme music while you watch, our family enjoyed this tune in 2011. Just press play simultaneously on the slideshow and the song for the full effect.

Wishing you joy, love, and peace in 2012. Safe travels!

MA351 featured on BostInno.com

2011-12-07T19:00:00.007-05:00

Here's a nice profile story of our little Project. A reporter for a start-up known as BostInno.com called and put the article together. We're very grateful for the chance to spread the word about Bay State adventures.

Forming the Massachusetts 351 Club

2011-12-06T15:33:00.008-05:00

Perhaps it is time for Massachusetts 351ers to unite.

One of the best parts of this experience - attempting to visit and photo every municipality in the state - has been hearing about other people's similar missions.

Vermonters have the Vermont 251 Club (active since 1954). I think its time we Bay Staters do something similar.

Here's the idea: to be a member of the Massachusetts 351 Club you have to "enjoy traveling the main streets and back roads of the Bay State."

That's it. No dues. No application. No test. Though most members will be thinking about, in the middle of, or finished with a quest to visit every town in the state.

What's the benefit? One day each year, every willing Club member will come together at a predetermined location and hang out. We can share stories, photos, tips. And food.

Maybe down the line we could invite a special speaker each year. Wonder if Doris Kearns Goodwin is available. Or Gov. Patrick. Or Matt Damon.

But I digress.

I declare the best place to meet would be the geographic center of the state, a town called Rutland. And what better establishment to patronize than one named Tavern On The Common?

When? In honor of the anniversary of our fair state's statehood, I suggest the annual gathering of the Massachusetts 351 Club should happen at lunchtime on the Saturday following the date the state joined the union, Feb. 6, 1788.

So the first annual meeting of the Massachusetts 351 Club should happen:

Saturday, Feb. 11, 2012, at high noon.
At the Tavern On The Common, 249 Main Street, Rutland, MA 01543.

Who's with me?! If you think you can make it, please shoot me an e-mail at massachusetts351@gmail.com.

Peabody

2011-12-06T10:10:00.001-05:00

Hatfield

2011-12-06T09:46:00.002-05:00

Goshen

2011-12-06T09:44:00.001-05:00

Colrain

2011-12-06T09:43:00.001-05:00

Whately

2011-12-06T09:32:00.001-05:00

Sorting out the towns

2011-12-04T21:58:00.007-05:00

OK, after much sorting and double-checking and formatting, I believe our official town count is ~~182~~ 193. If I am not mistaken, Laura and I have visited ~~182~~ 193 of 351 municipalities (that's cities and towns but not villages) in Massachusetts.

Over the years, some pictures got misplaced on various computer folders. A handful of the snapshots were so terrible that we're not going to count them - we'll have to return for more legit photos in those towns.

Laura and I spent this weekend without the kids in Western Massachusetts and were actually able to make some MA351 progress. We stayed in a wonderful Bed & Breakfast in Colrain called High Pocket. And we managed to get four more towns (Goshen, Colrain, Whatley, and Hatfield) before rushing home to pick up the boys from their grandparents' house.

The takeaway from the trip: There is so much farmland out in northwestern Massachusetts. It really is amazingly quaint, quiet, and beautiful out there.

When I got home, I got right to work determining what our town count is officially at. I think I finally got the list accurate, in a Flickr set, alphabetically. So here it is:

If you'd like some musical accompaniment while watching the slideshow, play the video below simultaneously.

Enjoy!

Shopping on the edge of Hudson, Berlin

2011-11-17T14:39:00.000-05:00

Wherever you go, there you are. But where exactly is here when you're sitting in a parking spot with a town sign next to you?

It's not some version of limbo. It's a parking spot in front of the BJ's in Hudson ... or Berlin ... or both. I pick in this particular spot just to amuse myself - even though there are often spaces closer to the entrance.

If I angle the car just right, I can be in Berlin sitting in the front seat, while the boys are in Hudson in the back seat.

Read more of this blog post at telegram.com/hudson

Growing a mustache for charity in Hudson

2011-11-07T21:30:00.001-05:00

This is the lesson I take away from my six-day experiment: Never underestimate the generosity of family and friends.

Last November I heard about Movember.org, and ever since I had been debating whether I too should grow a mustache to raise money for the fight against prostate cancer.

Pro: Raising money for a good cause is rewarding.

Con: I look ridiculous with a mustache.

Read more at my Hudson Living blog.

The case against the Wegmans (in Northborough) hype

2011-11-05T19:45:00.002-04:00

Let's get this out of the way up front: I don't have anything against Wegmanshttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif. It is probably a nice store. I bet I will shop there someday. My wife has been eager to get to the Northborough location since Opening Day.

What I take issue with is the hype surrounding Wegmans.

Which media organization talked to small business owners in Northborough and surrounding towns to ask what they thought about the arrival of Wegmans? Is there only one side to this story?

Read more at my Telegram.com/Hudson blog.

The other side of Hudson's river

2011-10-25T17:22:00.004-04:00

Living in a town is like forging a relationship. The courting, the discovery, the disagreements. The reoccurring question: Is this a good lifelong partnership?

That's what it's like for me anyway as I pass the days, months, and years living in Hudson. Some things I like. Some not as much. But I am committed to learning all I can about this place, to enjoying my time here, and to leaving it a little better than how I found it.

And that's how the toddler and I ended up on the Assabet River last Saturday, paddling upstream and then floating back, enjoying the foliage, spotting a rare mink along the shore, making sure we didn't tip our rented kayak into the chilled autumn water. What better way is there to get to know a place than navigating its channels?

Read more at telegram.com/hudson

Eyes like a Hudson hawk

2011-10-03T20:35:00.001-04:00

What is it about toddlers that makes them so good at noticing details? And what is it about us adults that makes us so oblivious to them?

These queries first appeared when we thought our 2.5-year-old had a superhero-like ability to spot sounds and sights almost beyond adult sensory range. Then we figured out most kids are like this. They notice airplanes dozens of miles away, just specks on the horizon really. Plenty of times I've said, "Hmmm, I'm not sure there is a plane out there right now ... oh wait, there it is." Kids and air traffic controllers are usually right when it comes to the skies.

Other special ability sightings include birds, squirrels, fire trucks, police cars, "diggers," and any car that's the same make and model as his grandma's.

Read more at telegram.com/hudson

Beware of Dragons (Massachusetts)

2011-07-30T10:20:00.004-04:00

I saw this image floating around Facebook and had to share. Growing up in "Florida," going to college where the dragons are, and now living in the "Midwest," this map is a pretty accurate portrayal according to friends who grew up near the Hub. Hey, until I went to college, while I had been to "Canada" many times, I had never been west of Interstate 495! I would have added to this map the "Badlands" for Rhode Island and "A Place You Drive Through on the Way to NYC" for Connecticut. In all seriousness, though, it's amazing just how much our little Bay State has to offer.

A Pooh adventure (Westborough)

2011-07-20T21:05:00.005-04:00

“If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together, there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart, I'll always be with you.”
-Winnie the Pooh

Brought the 2 1/2-year-old out to his first movie last weekend. He had no idea what to expect, and his mouth was just wide open for the first 20 minutes. The previews were so loud they hurt hurt my brain. I was reminded of when I was a kid and my father took me to a monster truck rally and we left because it hurt my ears. But my big guy made it to the main event and lasted until the last 15 minutes when he decided it was time to run around the movie complex. Another little boy passed us in the hall on the way out at about the same time and when I asked his grandma how old he was, she said 2 and a half.

Just getting started (Hudson)

2011-07-16T10:36:00.005-04:00

I'm helping organize a community garden in Hudson. It seems every surrounding town has one, so it's about time one takes root here. We've already got a website and Facebook group. Now we need more volunteers and a site. With any luck we'll be planting seeds in the spring.

That boy sure is a runnin' fool (Hudson, Sudbury)

2011-07-06T17:46:00.004-04:00

On one of our recent treks into nearby woods, the 2-year-old ran toward my camera. I took a bunch of photos and realized some stop motion experimentation might by in order. One thing is for sure, this kid loves running in the forest. (Tip: If you hit the HD button, the video will look a little nicer.)

The joy of existence (Middlesex County)

2011-06-22T20:22:00.006-04:00

(Great Meadows Wildlife Refuge, Sudbury)

I'm more a spiritual than religious person, but the pastor at our church is inspirational. In a note to congregation members as summer neared she provided some much-needed guidance as we learn to balance the new addition to our family...

"I challenge you all to take some Sabbath time this summer! Take one day a week to accomplish nothing. Commit to sitting still and being with God for ten minutes each day. Turn off your cell phone on the weekends. Say "no" to things that sap your energy and spirit. Sing out loud in your car. Walk through the woods in silence. Notice your children, your dog, or the birds and how they so naturally dwell in wonder and joy of existence. Give thanks to God for being alive."

We've taken it all to heart, but particularly tried to have one peaceful day per week. It's helped keep us grounded. Hope you faithful readers are finding ways to find moments of peace this summer.

Stream of consciousness (Hudson)

2011-06-20T17:56:00.002-04:00

The 2.5-year-old and I recently headed down the street to Danforth Falls in Hudson for a quick hike. The Big Guy knows by now that beyond the waterfall is a pond that is perfect for throwing rocks in - a favorite pastime.

But on this recent trip, the trail from the waterfall to the pond had been washed out. The stream, apparently, decided that in addition to its regular route to the waterfall, it would also flow down the path.

We had fun investigating, but we'll need to find a new way to get to the rock throwing pond. -b

Telling his story (Marlborough)

2011-06-18T11:21:00.001-04:00

When they're not tripping on their own feet, picking your vegetables before they're ripe, and peeing on your beanbag chair, toddlers can be pretty amusing, especially when it comes to storytelling. Our 2.5-year-old likes to pull out our books and pretend to read, "One time a big fat..."

Well, to make a long story short, the other day at about dinnertime we got detoured in the car and stuck in traffic. The two-month-old was crying and then the Big Guy started screaming, "No more crying!" I could feel my sanity oozing from my ear so I finally pulled over at the Marlborough Bertucci's.

The Big guy and I went inside to order a pizza, and while we waited he colored and helped fill in the blanks of this Mad Libs-type story. The answers he gave were pretty fun overall, but the best was when I asked for a number, "E," he says. Then later in the story I asked for another number, "I already told you, E." No a different number. "Oh, F."

So here is "Will's Delicious Recipe":

Fill a large cup (a container) with salted milk (a liquid) and bring to a boil.

Add broccoli (a vegetable) and bake in the oven until it turns green (a color).

Stir well with your spoon (a body part). Toss in E (a number pounds of pickled white cheese (type of cheese).

Spread the concoction over a bird's (pet) tail and cook (action word) around the kitchen hollering "pig"! (a crazy sound).

Once it has cooled, season with salt (a spice) and freshly ground potatoes (a vegetable).

Sprinkle some M&M's (your favorite candy) over the top.

Reheat until it reaches F (a number) degrees.
Place bouncy-sized (type of ball) scoops into a digger (type of footwear) and and garnish the serving with a side of lilacs (type of flower).

Serve to your friends Chloe (a friend) and Tara (a friend), and say, "Will's (your name) delicious recipe!"

We're in a magazine! (Millbury-based baystateparent)

2011-06-07T17:13:00.000-04:00

Check out this month's edition of baystateparent magazine for a five-page article with color photos on the Massachusetts 351 Project. I submitted our photos and wrote the piece for this wonderful parenting publication and they designed the package beautifully. You can flip through the online version here. We're on Page 33...

Brothers in harmony (in Hudson)

2011-06-02T19:12:00.001-04:00

The past six weeks have been an adjustment for each member of our family. And a blessing.

One of our favorite songs has often come to mind. It's called "Murder in the City" by the Avett Brothers (lyrics in italics):

I wonder which brother is better. Which one our parents love the most...

I sure did get in lots of trouble. They seemed to let the other go...

A tear fell from my father's eyes. I wondered what my dad would say...

He said, 'I love you, and I'm proud of you both in so many different ways.'

Always remember there was nothing worth sharing, like the love that let us share our name.

When we daydream about our boys' relationship as adults, we sometimes like to picture them as bearded bandmates.

Swinging for the fences (Hudson, Assabet River Rail Trail)

2011-05-31T12:27:00.002-04:00

Thank the Gods above for rail trails. Where we live in Hudson, there aren't many recreational opportunities. It's a semi-urban environment, but the Assabet River Rail Trail runs right through town and it offers an easy excuse to get outside. Maybe there's a rail trail near you.

Investigate, Explore, Discover! (Stow)

2011-05-21T16:24:00.006-04:00

There is nothing our family enjoys more than being outside. Each one of us is at our best as human beings when out in nature - and at our worst when we're indoors too long.

One of our favorite places near home is Pine Bluff Recreation Area in Stow. There is a pond, playground, soccer field, and some trails. Recently, we got a close-up view of the winter erosion of Lake Boon's shore.

The water had washed away significant dirt supporting the root systems of giant pines. It was a tad bit scary letting him climb up under these massive trees, but they seemed stable for the moment.

After all these roots extend farther into the earth than we can imagine.

And if you turn your back for a second, your toddler is bound to push the boundaries. In our family, though, we don't mind getting wet or dirty in pursuit of adventure.

In fact, sometimes we'll go to extremes for a chance to get outside, hence this duct tape belt. We like to follow the mottos of two of our favorite PBS shows:

Investigate, Explore, Discover! -Sid the Science Kid

Get outside. Get into nature. And make your own discoveries. -Dinosaur Train

Thanks TV for telling us to turn you off.

-b

Petal Puddle Power (Hudson)

2011-05-09T16:53:00.001-04:00

We took this photo on Mother's Day on our way to visit new arrival Levi and Mama at the hospital. There is a small window each spring when the trees outside our home bloom with gorgeous flowers of pink, purple and white. Walking around the yard, you can catch great wafts of soap-like fragrance coming down from the trees. It's all over too fast. The petals fall, in this case in a puddle, though I'm not sure what brought them all to the shore of this tiny parking lot lake. Maybe the cool spring wind? The thing about living in New England is that after a bitter winter you almost forget moments like this will return. -b

This advice is rock solid (Acton)

2011-04-26T12:05:00.001-04:00

The Acton Library has this granite block as the centerpiece for its memorial garden.

Jammin' at the play center (Maynard)

2011-03-21T13:11:00.001-04:00

It's raining. It's snowing. It's too hot. They're bored. They're whining. If you're a parent (especially a stay-at-home parent) you've gotta have an ace in the hole at your disposal: an indoor play center. They're built to entertain kids - but they're greatest value is saving parents' sanity.

Ideally, you want it nearby. And, if you're also a penny pincher like me, you want it to be affordable.

Lately, we've being going to a new indoor play center in Maynard called Jam Time. They have slides and a ball pit and a bouncy house.

They even have a cool bridge with a see through floor. Remember that scene from Indiana Jones when he has to take a "leap of faith" across that invisible bridge? It's kind of like that.

But best of all - according to our 2-year-old - they have a Thomas the Tank Engine train table. We have a train table that he plays with all day. But that doesn't stop him from hovering over the same thing if he can find it outside the home.

In the past we went to an indoor play center in Northborough, but it's closed now. Over the winter we had a tot membership to the Westborough YMCA which has a crazy, indoor elevated tube thing for kids - and a pool. The Discovery Museums in Acton are great but just a bit out of our price range for regular visits. We've even resorted to the McDonald's indoor playground once or twice. (If you're on the Cape, there's a great kids museum in Mashpee.)

But Jam Time has a special: $5 on Mondays from 3-5:30 p.m. (and they don't charge for parents). Which is a perfect price for me. And a perfect venue for a tyke who's into trains.

Let us know if you know of any other indoor play centers for kids in Massachusetts!

-b

Taking our cheeky one to his first live theater performance (Worcester)

2011-03-17T12:38:00.002-04:00

Our son Will is obsessed with Thomas the Train. He thinks the library's main purpose is to supply us with Thomas DVDs. He constantly sings the theme song: "Thomas is the cheeky one!" Some of his favorite catch phrases - "Bust my buffers!" - come from Thomas. And even though his has a train table at home, if we go someplace new that has a train table, that's where he spends all his time. Laura and I, unlike some parents, don't mind Thomas' slow pace and lack of flashiness. So when I learned from baystateparent magazine that Thomas the Musical was coming to the Hanover Theater in Worcester, we jumped at the chance to use some money we got for Christmas for a family outing.

We'd been curious about the theater's renovations and found it was gorgeous.

Will was awestruck at first, but by the end of the show he was dancing all over the place. In the picture above, Will is reaching out for another kid's Thomas toy - even though he has his own Thomas in the other hand.

-b

Snowed in no more

2011-03-01T13:21:00.000-05:00

It's easy to feel claustrophobic during the long winter season in New England, so I've always made it a priority to get outside. I used to ski and snowboard, but it's just too darn expensive these days, especially with a growing family and a tight budget. Recently I got a Groupon to learn how to cross country ski at the Weston Ski Track. But at the last minute, I decided to take a snowshoe lesson there. Good decision. A few weeks later and I'm testing out my new snowshoes on the Assabet River Rail Trail just a few feet from our front door. Snowshoes seem good so far: Don't need a whole bunch of equipment to fuss over. Don't need a lift ticket. Don't need a half day to devote to it. No talent necessary. Just put on your snowshoes and walk around in the snow. We're looking forward to becoming a snowshoe family. -b

Happy Holidays from the Massachusetts 351 Family to Yours

2010-12-23T09:31:00.000-05:00

Edaville USA, Carver, Massachusetts

Higgins Armory in Worcester is a Blast

2010-12-21T13:21:00.000-05:00

Did you know there are knights in shining armor in Worcester? The Higgins Armory Museum has them on display along with so much more.

Will and I enjoy getting free library passes and trying out new places a few times per month. We finally got to Higgins last week. I was pretty skeptical this would be anything I'd be impressed by, and even more dubious Will would enjoy the trip.

He's almost 2 and doesn't really know and/or care about knights, kings, swords, dragons etc. But he likes building sandcastles, so I told him we were going to see the big castle and he was cool with that.

My little dude naps at noon, so we got there at 9:59 a.m. on a Friday, just when they opened, and stood outside freezing before being let in after a few minutes of door banging.

The only other people there were a bus load of students on a field trip. Will enjoyed walking right into the middle of a pack of students and listening to the tour guides, which completely threw them off. Perhaps he reminded them of an elf that had escaped from one of their displays.

I took way too many photos because there was just too much awesome stuff on three floors of medieval museum pieces, some centuries old, and plenty of hands on activities for kids. Here are a few pictures that will give you a taste of why this place is worth the trip:

The Great Hall is lined with knight's armor, helmets, weapons, muskets. Everything you'd need to storm a castle in 1392. Will enjoyed having me hop him from bench to bench the most.

Here is how much a knight could see in battle. Not exactly a confidence booster.

Here is my little knight romping around a giant chess board. In this room he could dress up, play with plastic knights, read books, make color rubbings. I want to return when he's ready to face me in chess.

The museum includes tons of artifacts, from ancient Greece to Samurai, but it also has a fun room dedicated to the mysterious with displays of a dragon, mermaid, bigfoot and all kinds of oddly cool creatures.

Of course the "toy" castle was a huge hit. "Quick, raise the drawbridge before that gigantic baby monster destroys us!"

Whenever we leave a new place I ask Will what he liked about it. Driving away, we had just a few minutes before he passed out. Apparently, he liked the "horsies," which were life-size to show knights jousting; the "alligator," which, translated, means the elevator; the "helmets," which he got to try on; and the "dinosaurs," the dragons in that creepy curiosities room. He also pointed out that he did not enjoy sharing the toy knights at the play castle with another little boy there with his grandma. "Mine, mine, mine," which translates to, "Off with his head!"

-b

Finding Massachusetts-grown food in the off season

2010-12-16T07:41:00.003-05:00

Made a great discovery the other day while driving to Will's playgroup: A new place nearby to get veggies and apples until the winter farmers markets start up.

Our family tries to eat as much locally-grown produce as possible, which is easy during the growing season. We've taken steps to preserve - through canning and freezing - a lot of summer stuff to last through the winter. And we have dreams about becoming true locavores and only eating what's in season or self-preserved. But we're not quite there yet.

Finding places to buy a staple like potatoes can be tricky this time of year. Most farm stands and farmers markets have shut down as Massachusetts ushers in the snowflakes. I've been picking up potatoes and apples at Carver Hill Orchard in Stow, but they close for the year on Dec. 22.

So this week Will and I headed out to Applefield Farm in Stow, where we went a few times last year. Their stand had a good variety, and I think they're open through the end of December. But as we pulled into the lot we realized they are closed the one day of the week we were there: Wednesday.

We drove back toward playgroup and noticed a sign for Derby's claiming they had apples and veggies. We must have driven by there 100 times and never gone in. These kind of places don't exactly have neon signs that make them impossible to miss.

Anyway, they have everything we need until the Wayland Winter Farmers Market starts up in January. Will and I picked out onions and potatoes from Western Massachusetts, carrots from the dormant Small Farm, and apples from Derby's orchards. We also snagged a few honey sticks because Will likes them.

So keep your eyes peeled. You may discover, right under your nose, a great local farmstand that is still open and eager to serve you.

-b

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Visiting Edaville Railroad in Carver before it is too late

2010-12-13T07:10:00.052-05:00

A few years back, Laura and I were driving west on the Mass Pike on a pilgrimage to see James Taylor at Tanglewood. The traffic just getting off the highway (at the last exit before New York) was backed up for miles. Then it snaked through the back roads of the Berkshires, taking us hours just to get from the Pike to the music. It was worse than any concert at Great Woods or Foxborough, and I haven't seen anything like it in a while.

But as we were leaving Edaville Railroad in Carver Saturday night, the super long line of cars flowing in through the side streets reminded us of that JT show. We guessed that the people coming in at 6 p.m. wouldn't be on the holiday-themed ride until 9 that night, taking into account the herd of people and strollers we saw waiting to board one of the two trains in the park.

The scene baffled us. In recent months we had heard Edaville was struggling - it turns out the amusement park is for sale and if an owner isn't found soon it could close. Laura had never been there. And I had just a few memories while living in Wareham as a tot. With Will around we had an excuse to check it out before who knows what became of the historic landmark.

When we arrived at opening time (Will sporting is corduroy train overalls), we were within the first dozen cars that pulled in. But the staff was positioned like they expected a U2 show. We laughed that they looked a bit optimistic. What was this place anyway? Another Wally World?

Turns out the creators of Edaville have accurately mapped the inner workings of the minds of 2-year-old boys. There are trains of all sizes - which are pretty much magnets for kids - strategically placed all around. But there is so much more that makes the not so cheap price of admission worth it. And people in the hundreds of SUVs, mini vans and station wagons pulling in Saturday night knew that. Edaville didn't look like a struggling business to us. In fact, it felt just the opposite - thanks to the geniuses who can read kids' minds.

Of course the iconic 2.5 mile train ride was tons of fun. The train cars are warm and well-maintained with large windows and plenty to look at. It was Will's second train ride (you can read about the first here) and he was loving it. If you go, just make sure you try to beat the rush for the ride once it gets dark out.

Trains are certainly the park's specialty, including smaller ones that six-foot adults barely fit into.

And bigger ones that don't go anywhere at all. Turns out, Will was obsessed with the smallest trains of all - the small, wooden toy choo choos set up on Thomas the Tank Engine tracks inside the main building.

Though the ball bit (dubbed a cranberry bog because of that crop's deep roots in the region) distracted him from crowing about having to share Henry, Thomas' green friend, for a few minutes.

There was a fire truck, a giant roller for flattening roads, a working antique carousel, and even a bulldozer, the latter of which Will just recently figured out how to say using three syllables. Santa was there to take present requests and his statue was outside...

Which Will enjoyed posing for by acting like he had just summitted some impressive mountain.

But the moment that tugged on our heartstrings the most was seeing out little boy, who just two years ago couldn't hold his own head up, on a ride by himself. This one was made specially for the little kids. Beforehand, we were sure he would freak out and we'd have to stop the ride to comfort him. But he loved it. And he didn't need help from us. It's the kind of moment that reminds us we'll be teaching him to drive and sending him off to college in a blink of an eye.

Hopefully, between now and then we'll be able to return to Edaville to make a few more memories. There's a sign on the premises that says: "It's not Christmastime until you've been to Edaville." Maybe the genius of Edaville is not just catering to kids, but subliminally reaching their parents who long for those special times together as a family.

Edaville gets our MA351 stamp of approval. Please visit so they're overwhelmed with support, convincing a solid buyer to come forward, which will force this wonderful place to stay open indefinitely.

-b

Willy the Kid

2010-11-18T13:52:00.004-05:00

So far our little guy enjoys timeouts and rides in police cars. I should probably make sure he never sees one of my favorite movies, Young Guns, so he doesn't get any ideas about becoming the next Willy the Kid.

This morning we tagged along with the Together We Can Family Network on a tour of the Marlborough Police Station, or as Will calls it, "the police car station."

He had his police man toy ready to go - which the other kids were very interested in.

(Oh, on a side note, before we got out of the car to start the tour, he made me "change police man diaper.")

The highlight of the building tour (besides the M&M machines Will found important to point out) was the cells, though I was disappointed the bars you see on TV had been replaced with doors. How are the other lawbreakers supposed to hear the sweet harmonica music from a few cells down?

Will asked if he could go to sleep on the bed. I told him I didn't think Mama would like that.

As we walked away I noticed he no longer had his drink in his hands. "Will! Got get your juice!" Maybe he was leaving it there in case the next occupant was thirsty.

But nothing tops the police cars.

At this point, I couldn't get the theme song from Cops out of my head. He was so ticked off when the "ride" in the back of the cruiser was over that he refused to get in the group photo with the other kids in front of the car.

A few minutes later, he took out his aggression on the training dummies.

Wait a minute! Can't they use someone else's name for this angry, lifeless, punching bag?! I suggest Barney, Thomas, or Caillou.

As the tour wrapped up and kids started heading home, I asked Will if I could take a picture of his police badge sticker. He wasn't having it. He wanted to go back inside and see the cells.

But I'm nothing if not diligent.

When I asked him on the ride home what he thought of the adventure, he said, "No share police man, Dada." Got it, you don't have to share him as long as you promise never to get yourself a real ride in his car.

-b

Willy on the MBTA

2010-11-08T12:04:00.004-05:00

There is nothing trickier than being a stay-at-home parent on a rainy Monday. Most museums are closed, few libraries have Monday activities, and the wetness rules out outdoor stuff like hikes, farms, and playgrounds.

So at the last minute, I decided to take Will on his first train ride. We had 15 minutes to get ready before a 20 minute ride to the South Acton commuter stop, and a 10 minute walk from wherever we could find parking. The train left at 9:24 a.m.

Let's just say that's easier said than done. Will is going through an "I don't like to wear pants" phase. And dad once again left something on the roof of the car to fall off and smash (this time my glass bottle of juice).

The entire car ride there, Will kept on saying, "Ride the choo choo train, Dada." I was just hoping this whole adventure would work. Would we find a legal place to park? Would the train come on time? How hard would it rain on us? Did I remember enough snacks? Where exactly did we plan on getting off? Would we be able to catch the train back or miss it and have to wait for another right through nap time?

Thankfully, Will wasn't scared when the enormous train rolled up. The conductors seemed pretty psyched (well, as psyched as a MBTA worker could be I guess) to have an almost-two-year-old taking his first train ride. One gave him a used Charlie card.

For $2.50 we rolled past the West Concord stop (where I worked for five years before becoming a stay-at-home dad), then past the Concord stop, and all the way to Lincoln. Maybe a 20 minute ride in all. I called a friend on the way to confirm the Lincoln stop had a cafe for us to hang out in.

We went over to the Whistlestop Cafe, grabbed a chocolate muffin, played with some plastic animals for about 20 minutes, and then hopped back on the train to South Acton. It was only a few minutes late.

Overall, Will was in awe during the entire experience. But toward the end he was getting sleepy (thanks obsolete Daylight Savings Time) and he passed out on the car ride home.

Laura has a theory I subscribe to: Will and I should do one fun thing for him each day we're home together. There are plenty of chores and errands to run, but we want our little sponge to just soak up the experiences of life. Sure, we're sacrificing my full-time salary to help keep the house running, but that needs to be balanced with Will's needs. The train ride was a great rainy Monday success, so I think we'll try it again sometime and maybe go farther. Maybe, as Will would say, we'll go to infinity and beyond.

-b

The Wonders of Walden

2010-09-30T12:42:00.004-04:00

Walden Pond in Concord means a lot to a lot of people. For us, Concord has always been a mecca. Laura loves the Alcotts. I grew up worshiping the Transcendentalists and the central quote highlighted the film Dead Poets Society: "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately..." A well-worn copy of Walden sits on our nightstand.

In college, during the early years of us dating, Laura and I made a pilgrimage to Walden Pond. About a decade later, we decided we wanted our children to be born in Concord - at Emerson Hospital - so that it would always be listed on their birth certificates.

Ever since Will was born, we've wanted to take him to Walden Pond. I'm guessing Thoreau would be bummed out that his sanctuary has become a tourist destination, but it's still worth a look. This week - with a library pass making parking free! - Will and I stopped by on the way to pick up this week's CSA farm share at a nearby Concord farm...

To get Will to be cooperative when we set out on adventures, I have to phrase things in ways that he can relate. So before we set out for Walden, I asked him if he wanted to "go throw rocks in the pond." Of course, that is one of his favorite activities so he was up for the trip. And while there weren't many rocks, we did find some over-sized acorns to toss.

Right near the parking lot, there's a replica of Thoreau's hut, and a statue of the man who Will called "the man." I wonder if he would've appreciated a game of wiffle ball with a 21-month-old.

Inside the hut, we made Will's visit official.

To a tot, the walk to the site must seem like a thousand miles, particularly when all you really want to do is stay at the beach and throw more acorns in the pond while watching all the people swimming across it.

After passing some old-timer swim club, seeing some topless European grandma bathing, and getting passed by a high school cross country team, we made it.

Which thrilled Will who must have thought: "This Thoreau guy must have been pretty cool to have such a great collection of rocks."

Though I'm sure Will wished he could have colored on some like the ones we found.

Lacking markers or crayons, Will proceeded to pick a rock the size of his head up and hurl it against this tree repeatedly - to the jaw-dropping amusement of a few tourists checking out the former hut site nearby. One even took out his camera to document Will's antics and complimented his Red Sox shirt.

It was definitely worth the walk.

That said, Will was happy to get back to the water, where he found an abandoned digger and a few legit rocks to toss...

And a ladybug we named Henry.

-b

Towns We've Officially Been To (Updated with Peabody)

2010-09-28T08:19:00.002-04:00

pittsfield

2010-09-13T08:23:00.000-04:00

Sept. 2010

Pittsfield is here in Berkshire County

For more about Pittsfield, visit its Wikipedia entry.

Also, please feel free to leave comments below about your favorite things about Pittsfield.

dalton

2010-09-10T08:18:00.002-04:00

Sept. 2010

Dalton is here in Berkshire County

For more info on Dalton, visit its Wikipedia entry here.

UPDATED: From our friend Sarah: "Crane Paper Company is there, which supplies the gov't with the water marked / security paper on which they print U.S. currency! So, all the money we have in our pockets (or lack there of!) started it's life in Dalton!"

Please also feel free to comment on this post to share what you know about Dalton.

Oops, we did it again!

2010-09-09T08:29:00.007-04:00

Every so often, Laura and I head out for a road trip in Massachusetts and forget our master map, which indicates which of the 351 official cities and towns we've already taken pictures in. Such was the case last weekend.

While we got new pictures in New Salem, Greenfield, Dalton, Pittsfield, Peru, Worthington, Hinsdale and Shelburne, we also unknowingly revisited Buckland and Chesterfield. We'll add those pictures just for fun anyway, though.

Here is our old post on Buckland.

And here is our old post on Chesterfield.

New Ashford remains elusive. It was our second trip out that way when we tried and missed. I think it's a ghost town.

-b

The Bobs are everywhere

2010-09-07T13:16:00.002-04:00

Have you ever noticed how many guys named Bob name their establishments after themselves? On a recent trip to the Western part of the Massachusetts it was hard not to...

Ware, MA

I admire this Bob's mechanic skills. I was recently thinking about how I have no idea how to check if there is enough air in my tires and how to put more in if air was needed. Earlier this year, I decided I'd save a couple bucks and change my own oil. I did research, bought all the stuff, and then couldn't get past Step 1: remove the bolt to the oil compartment under the car. I'll just have to leave the cars to Bob of Ware.

Florida, MA

Now this is something I could get into: Bob's Snack Shack. Only problem is, the shack is in Florida. That is Florida, Massachusetts. Way up on Route 2 in the left part of the state. It looked like the "shack" was on his property, so I wonder if he just pops out of his Bobopedic and runs out of his house whenever someone stops by demanding a hot dog.

Hancock, MA

Yes! Campers. This Bob has some things figured out. And that trailer behind me in the picture looks quite appetizing. I've been bugging Laura for us to get a pop up camper for years. Maybe this Bob, whose business is about a mile from New York State, would give me a deal if I let him have my extra B.

Lanesborough, MA

And finally, Bob's Country Kitchen. A place where I can branch out from my mean toast making skills and wow the world with my omelet flipping and pancake tossing. He had a help wanted sign out front. But I wonder if Lanesborough is a one-Bob kinda town.

-Bobb

Fun at the lake

2010-07-12T10:11:00.006-04:00

We were at the local lake this weekend and the kids there were playing a version of Marco Polo. Theirs was Marco Scutaro. Later I heard them playing the same game with Beckett, Josh. Only in Massachusetts.

And then a model of the Titanic floated by, as big as a canoe, with one dude somehow driving it, silently. I suddenly felt more secure about the odd hobbies I make time for.

Side note, not only do we have the worst car in the parking lot, we have the ugliest beach umbrella, which happens to be breaking. On this occasion, we tried hard at home to fill the beach bag with fun beach toys like a bucket, shovel, and ball. But our baby likes to empty bags, and by the time we made it to the beach he had an orange, plastic truck and empty yogurt container to play with. Our family is quite classy.

No matter. Will's easily entertained at the lake. A helicopter flew over and he spent the next 10 minutes talking about it. Apparently, helicopters are the coolest things since ... fire trucks.

And then I overheard another parent talking about the Acton-Boxborough farmers market, which we had also just come from. We bumped into our state senator there whom Will promptly told "Ba-bye!" This is one baby who who gives politicians and vegetables equal respect.

Who needs lawmakers when you've got baseball players? Looking forward to Will being old enough to able to play a few rounds of Dustin Pedroia with the other kids at the lake.

-b

(Top photo from swimming at the Cape on The Fourth. Bottom photo watching a helicopter land at Minute Man Airfield Open House last weekend in Stow.)

Summertime busy time

2010-07-01T12:56:00.001-04:00

Now that summer is here, the MA351 family is busy, busy, busy. So there will likely be fewer posts here for a bit. It seems the free few minutes I usually squeeze for the MA351 blog are being eaten up in my garden. But have no fear, we're still out and about taking pictures in new towns and we'll check in to post from time to time. In the meantime, please check out Eat It Massachusetts, our online journal devoted to growing, cooking, and buying local food. Thanks for reading and happy travels! -b

A mess of strawberries

2010-06-23T08:15:00.002-04:00

Indian Head Farm, Berlin

More on this excursion at our companion blog: Eat It Massachusetts.

He's got the whole world in his hand

2010-06-21T07:29:00.000-04:00

Assabet River Wildlife Refuge, Sudbury

Can we get past the live long and prosper gesture for a moment to discuss spirals? Yes, spirals.

They are everywhere in nature. And they are cool. I am just a simple fool and attribute their awesomeness to something beyond my level of understanding: God or magic or algebra. Do the same principles guide each permutation?

DNA: Isn't the double helix of DNA a spiral? Doesn't get much smaller than that.

Shells: Created by slow-moving creatures big and small.

Spider webs: Created by arachnids big and small, including the medium ones who are fighting a turf battle with me over my container garden on the porch.

Flora: According to this website, 80 percent of plant life exhibits spiraling signs, including the pole beans climbing my porch garden.

Toilet water: Descending in a spiral. Even backward in Australia.

Tornadoes: Spiraling across Kansas. And Worcester. Perhaps the Wizard of Oz knows why.

Hurricanes: Including those named Bob and his pacific cousins, the typhoon. Can we get one named Bobb?

The Milky Way Galaxy: Perhaps the Vulcans have the answer after all.

-b

Things to do on Father's Day in Massachusetts

2010-06-18T07:26:00.003-04:00

Searching for something fun to do with Dad on Father's Day? Look no further...

Western Massachusetts: Take dad to the Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield. By Sunday he'll be ready to come out of his Celtics-induced depression and remember the good old days.

Central Massachusetts: Head out to the Higgins Armory in Worcester so dad can daydream about being a knight in shining armor or picture himself as the hero in Lord of the Rings. I've always wanted to go.

West of Boston: The Collings Foundation is hidden way off the beaten path in Stow. But if you can help Dad find it, he will discover working biplanes, old cars (including Al Capone's), and impressive tanks. They have an open house each Father's Day. We went last year when Will was tiny and it was still well worth it.

North Eastern Massachusetts: Does Dad like movies and surround sound and giant screens? Get him to the Imax 3D Theater at Jordan's Furniture in Reading. The kids will love Toy Story 3 and dad will love the set up. There's also an Imax in Natick.

South Eastern Massachusetts: Battleship Cove in Fall River. Yes, that's "battleship." Need I say more?

Cape Cod: Is Dad a talented golfer (or pretend to be)? Well, Father's Day is a family day too, so heading out for a day at the country club won't work. But taking the family to Pirate's Cove in South Yarmouth will. The best mini-golfing in Massachusetts. (Kimball Farm in Westford is a close second.)

But before you do anything super fun on Sunday, take Dad out to breakfast and let him order as much as he wants. Here are this dad's favorite breakfast joints in Massachusetts:

Victor's 50s Diner in Hudson

Yankee Diner in Charlton

Bronx Bagels in Milford

Marshland in Sandwich

Julie's Place in Acton

Let us know if you have other Father's Day ideas for Massachusetts!

-b

Tacking for home

2010-06-16T06:06:00.001-04:00

Four days on the Cape is better than no days. That's how I see it.

We were blessed with a free place to stay on Cape Cod last week, but a stomach bug nagged the family most of the time and eventually sent us home early.

We wanted a beach day so badly that we researched some options and headed out to Chapoquoit Beach in Falmouth. But it really wasn't warm enough, and the ominous clouds pretty much foreshadowed the end of our beach day and trip.

But I wouldn't give up a chance to tread the old stomping grounds of the Cape, even for a day. This after all, it the peninsula I was raised on, and may, if the fates allow, retire to. Last week, in between moments of feeling under the weather, there were a few rays of sunshine, like getting a picture in our 185th town on the way, swimming in the indoor pool, meeting up with friends and seeing my dad.

And checking out a new Sweet Tomatoes (the best gourmet pizza on earth) in Osterville...

And discovering a Children's Museum in Mashpee (refuge from that monsoon off the beach when it made land)...

This mini vacation felt like strenuous running (when out of shape) while we were there, but doesn't exercise just make you stronger? Evolution was kind when it granted human parents the ability to forget the hardships and remember the fun stuff. Plus, you don't capture the puke and diaper explosions on film (my apologies dear readers for the imagery). Those memories are washed away, like hobbit-sized 17-month-old footprints in the surf-zone sand.

-b

Massachusetts 351 Makeover: Part 2

2010-06-14T06:58:00.002-04:00

So here it is: Our newly redesigned website.

I'd been daydreaming about a new layout for months now. What I wanted all along was a small column of info on the left, a large column of posts in the center, and a small column of info on the right. But Blogger didn't offer that for the longest time.

I had even looked up how to hack into the HTML (which I'm a novice at), to see if it was possible. It was, but I risked destroying the entire blog in the process.

Recently, I googled "convert blogger site to wordpress" because I was fed up with waiting. Then, at almost the same time, Blogger offered some new templates. And we picked this one. It only took about an hour to convert.

We tried to organize it this way: Massachusetts resources on the left, info about our Project on the right, and stories/photos down the middle. The background image at the top has a map of the world, with a map of our little slice of the world over it. Let us know what you think!

-b

Massachusetts makeover

2010-06-13T11:49:00.001-04:00

Please pardon our appearance as we undergo a blog makeover...

The permanence of parenthood

2010-06-11T08:20:00.043-04:00

It's campaign season, so he's out more. He has aides to help write speeches. I may or may not vote for him. But it meant a lot to my family to have Gov. Deval Patrick speak at my little sister's graduation from Cape Cod Community College last month.

His commencement address touched on longterm planning, not getting down on the economy, his support of Cape Wind (in the lion's den!!). But it was his closing remarks about parenthood that reached me. He is a politician, but for a few moments, to parents like me, my dad, my aunt, my cousin, and my graduating sister, all listening closely, the governor was just a Dad...

"A final word to parents: Being a parent is permanent. It's what you are no matter what else you are. For me lately, it's finishing a press conference, a community meeting, or an important bill signing, and then schlepping home at 9 o'clock only to have the cell phone ring with my daughter on the line asking, "What's for dinner?"

It's feeling the same silly jumble of pride and longing, watching them graduate today as you felt watching them graduate from pre-school, children we have held and rocked to sleep; whom we have tickled and gone swimming and to countless movies with; whose heads we held when they threw up or brows we wiped when they had fevers; whom we read to and taught to ride their bikes; whom we scolded and fussed at; who made us laugh at ourselves; whose greeting of "Hi, Dad" or "Hi Mom" is enough to lighten our day; whose every smile makes us remember their first smile as clearly as if it were yesterday; whom we would walk through fire for; whom we have stayed awake worrying over long after they drifted off to sleep.

You parents and family members have prepared these young people for here and now. And I thank you for that. They will take it from here."

So I e-mailed and called the governor's staff to ask for a copy of the speech. And just when I was thinking, "Guess they don't care much about one vote," an e-mail arrived with the commencement address. Just words? Maybe. But words matter, too.

-b

norton

2010-06-07T11:51:00.001-04:00

Norton is here in Bristol County

Tell us about Norton! Comment on this post or send us an e-mail: mass351@yahoo.com.

Three birds with one stone

2010-06-04T08:53:00.001-04:00

"Curiosity is natural to the soul of man and interesting objects have a powerful influence on our affections."

-Daniel Boone, American pioneer, explorer, and frontiersman

Sudbury, Stow, and Maynard (On the Tri-Town Trail in the Assabet Valley Wildlife Refuge)

An (almost) perfect trip to Southwick's Zoo in Mendon

2010-06-02T08:04:00.023-04:00

Paul Simon was right: It's all happening at the zoo. And we had a near perfect zoo experience with Will and friends last weekend.

We packed everything we needed, including a couple coupons. Left on time. Didn't get lost along the way. Ate packed lunches in the car. The weather was perfect.

We met up with friends and my sweet goddaughter who's just a few months older than Will. There were no baby break downs on either end for this epochal inauguration to the wild.

Laura and I had been to Southwick's Zoo in Mendon once before, pre-baby. It's a smaller-scale zoo with a fair variety. It's clean. The animals seem as content as they can be confined in their surroundings. Staff members are everywhere to answer questions and offer tidbits.

There are giraffes, peacocks, parrots, monkeys, pigs, porcupines, chipmunks, turtles, a rhino and so much more.

A highlight is the deer forest, where the tamed animals will eat corn right our of your hand.

Zoos (and aquariums) that take impeccable care of their animals do more good than harm. Yeah, a Bengal tiger and African lion need more space than the size of a baseball infield. But bringing the wild close to home helps inspire the masses to want to protect these animals and their native habitats. I would rather Southwick's not offer rides on ponies and elephants (Who would enjoy walking in circles all day?), but I understand the zoo needs to make money.

A ski lift, which operates as a kind of skyline safari through the property, cruising over a couple of camels emphasized that these cool creatures of the desert were a long way from home.

Will didn't nap as planned on the ride home, but we made it without too much fussing. All in all a successful day. Eventually, I'd write about the experience and link out to our post on Mendon, a bucolic town near the Rhode Island border. It's the home of Southwick's Zoo and the fantastic Mendon Twin Drive In, which Laura and I frequented during our stay in Milford.

The one problem: We don't have an official picture in Mendon! In an instant, all the memories of Mendon signs we drove by flashed in my brain. It would have taken less than a minute to stop and shoot one.

We assumed, since we've been to Mendon a few times in the past, that we already had an official Mendon picture and post. And we were so focused on avoiding baby disaster, we didn't double check. Ultimately, a worthy trade off if one had to be made.

We shall return to Mendon someday for the zoo, for the drive in, and for that elusive picture with a town sign for the Massachusetts 351 Project. Something tells me. It's all happening in Mendon. I do believe it, I do believe it's true.

-b

Turtles vs. Man at the Assabet

2010-05-31T07:44:00.008-04:00

Let's just get this out of the way: I'm biased when it comes to turtles. And not because I used to own every member of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles collection.

These animals are incredible creatures. And the most unlikely of Darwinisitic survivors through the eons. The land versions are slow. They don't maneuver very well. They come with a shell, but most can't pull their head and limbs in completely for protection. They don't do well in the cold. The sea versions seem like floating targets.

It's for all these reasons I worry about these guys. They've been around for 200 million years, and up until man invented the wheel, they seem poised to go for another 200 million and beyond.

But then we messed up their wetlands and builds roads through their habitats. One of their historic traits (being able to remember where to go to eat, breed, and nest) has become a liability for some - sending them back to danger zones.

I've worried about turtles crossing the road since my mother drove over one growing up in Sandwich. The crunching sounds still haunts. Since then, I've been known to call police to move turtles off highways. A few weeks ago, I stopped traffic and moved a painted turtle off the road in Berlin.

On a recent morning walk with Will, I saw a shell out of the corner of my eye while walking the rail trail near the Assabet River. "How the heck did a horseshoe crab get up here?!" was the first thought of this native Cape Codder. A split second later the truth dawned on me: It was a basketball-sized snapping turtle.

It was digging its way through all the dirt and grass seed the state had recently laid down on the riverbank as part of the rail trail construction project. But I couldn't figure out how the turtle had gotten there. The bank and the river were separated by a turtle-proof wall of boulders and hail bails (an attempt to get vegetation thriving and the riverbank stable after reconstruction). Also, why was this turtle digging holes all over the place?

Later that day a co-worker told me it was breeding season for Massachusetts snapping turtles. And it dawned on me. That snapping turtle we saw was laying eggs in the same spot its ancestors had for generations.

On a walk the next day, we saw what we thought was the turtle again, and by then Will had learned to say the word: "Tur Tul." This time we watched it make its way back to the water over the boulders. Will and I could hear the shell knocking against the rock, and I worried it might get stuck or injured. Then, just as we were leaving, we saw another turtle on the riverbank - this one smart enough to take the long way back to the water through the woods.

Not sure what to do about any of this. I haven't had much luck in the past convincing the town government to help the environment. These turtles are nesting where they always have, and where they and their kin are in danger. If those eggs do hatch on the hill (which seems doubtful in my non-expert opinion), there's no way those baby turtles are getting over the hay and rocks.

And such is the plight of the turtle. Crushed on our roads. Stuck in our construction and destruction of their homeland. Swimming in our BP toxic seas (I can't even look at the photos of those poor oil-soaked dying sea turtles).

I wonder if these ultimate survivors have met their environmental match: man. Perhaps someday, my children's children's children will only see turtles at the zoo, like these 105-year-old tortoises we saw at Southwick's Zoo in Mendon last weekend.

As we watched that first snapper lay its eggs, an Orange Slice bottle floated down the river in the background and Will pointed toward it. Just a sign of the times that leaves you wondering if mutant heroes in a half shell are not too far away after all.

-b

UPDATE: After reading this article, I learned there is a website run by MassWildlife where you can let them know if you've seen turtles, turtle nesting, or turtle roadkill. I let them know about this conundrum on the Assabet.

Will's Top Ten Favorite Things

2010-05-24T07:17:00.044-04:00

Remember when life was this simple?

Will is 16 months old now, and here's a list of his favorite things...

1) Balls, Still Number 1 after all this time.

2) Balloons, Still looks in the closet for the balloons we hid from him a few months ago.

3) Trucks, Recently accomplished this feat: Two big rigs, two street sweepers, a cement truck, a DPW truck, and a garbarge truck. A new record for Will in getting drivers to wave back at him on our morning walks.

4) The River, He calls any body of water "The River."

5) Bubbles, Funny versions of balls/balloons

6) Music, He will dance to anything.

7) Airplanes, He'll see them before we do. Same with birds and the moon.

8) Dogs, I think he wants to ride them.

9) Thomas the Tank Engine, Loves this claymation-type PBS show. I'm partial to Sid the Science Kid.

10) Babies, He loves to kiss them and pictures of them.

This past weekend, we went to Harvard where there was a Touch a Truck event and Kids Fair. He was pretty psyched that Numbers 2, 3, 5, 6, 8, and 10 were all at one place.

-b

Update on Brookline

2010-05-21T07:23:00.001-04:00

We've updated our Brookline post with various information, including some on Conan (the O'Brien, not the Barbarian).

Free stuff to do around Boston

2010-05-19T07:29:00.001-04:00

After flipping through this slide show on Boston.com, I'm left with a few feelings. First, I'm a deadbeat for only having done ~~three~~ a handful (visited the North End, Beacon Hill, Harvard Square, the MFA, and the Old North Church) of the 25 free things on this list. Second, what an exciting list of free stuff to do around our state capital city! Third, photos like this blow my mind...

John Tlumacki/Globe Staff photo

Other ideas include climbing the Bunker Hill Monument, touring the State House, visiting the USS Constitution, visiting the Museum of Fine Arts on one of its free days. See the whole list here.

-b

Acton Family Network sale, better than Christmas

2010-05-17T07:54:00.024-04:00

What's the difference between a yard sale and a tag sale?

I don't have a punchline here. I honestly want to know. I get that a yard sale happens in a yard and a garage sale happens out of a garage. But can a tag sale be either?

Is this like the difference between a sub, grinder, and hoagie?

Regardless, it's yard/garage/tag sale season in Massachusetts - and probably beyond.

Our favorite over the past few years has been the Kids' Stuff Tag Sales organized by the Acton Family Network.

We went again on Saturday and hauled away a Subaru trunk full of goodies for Will. He got more, better, and cheaper stuff there than for his first Christmas when we struggled with the moral dilemma of new versus used gifts.

When we got home and set up the loot for a picture, Will seemed more interested in the ice scraper he found in the garage and an airplane flying by.

We generally don't buy a lot of stuff for him because A) We're cheap B) We live in a small place C) He doesn't need much. What we do get, we like to find used. Why buy something new he might not be into after five minutes or that he'll outgrow in a month? So the Tag Sale is the perfect place to follow the Reduce, Reuse, Recycle philosophy.

We went with a plan this year. Get there early: check. Bring the wagon: check. Plenty of kid snacks: check. Baby hiking backpack to carry said baby: check. Pray for child to cooperate: uncheck.

Poor little guy was tired, hungry, and overwhelmed with the sea of baby toy options. One kind lady gave him a tennis ball because she saw him playing with it and heard him yelling, "Ball! Ball! Ball!"

And there were more super friendly people. One shopper struck up a conversation about my hiking backpack. Would something like that be good for her husband? Yes! Another gave me a giant bag of fall clothes (an entire wardrobe really) for $10 just because she didn't want to lug it all home. Another vendor gave Will athletic sandals for free. One woman let me know my money would be supporting a nonprofit. And another tried to sell me a tan diaper bag because she noticed Laura and I had on "earthy tones."

In the end, we found what we went for and stuck to our $50 budget. We got board books, a Thomas the Tank Engine DVD, a wagon full of Lego-like blocks, a Noah's Ark play set, a wooden shape sorter, a beach bucket, a little deck chair, some crazy ball drop machine, an animal sound maker, and a lady bug storage container. And all those clothes. This is all good quality stuff, too.

But Will seems most happy about finally having his own ball pit. Price for Walmart plastic balls: $16.92. Price for tag sale plastic balls: $1. Getting stuck on the way home in a labyrinth of detours because of Stow Spring Fest with Will falling asleep and me driving up and down I-495 for an hour waiting for him to wake up: Priceless.

Next Saturday we head out to Bolton for an all-town yard/garage/tag sale extravaganza. Mission Number 1: Find a toaster oven for less than $10 to replace our broken one. Mission Number 2: Get home before nap time.

-b

Update on Newton

2010-05-14T07:38:00.000-04:00

Our post on Newton is updated with thoughts on pizza, Matt Damon, and Disney's Robin Hood.

One small step...

2010-05-12T07:03:00.002-04:00

"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away."

- Henry David Thoreau

Pine Bluff Town Beach, Stow, May 2010

Giving a hoot

2010-05-11T14:25:00.009-04:00

Newburyport Daily News photo

I love when stories like this one in Newburyport get reported on: Baby Owl Rescued After Fall From Tree. That other grown ups (this story is right up Will's alley, but he can't read just yet) would be interested amazes me.

The only thing cooler than an owl is an owlet. It's a fact.

A few other very important owl facts I learned from this story:

1) The best thing for a person to do when they find a fallen owl, or any other bird, is to put it back in a tree and get it away from predators, like cats and dogs.

2) Massachusetts Audubon officials say this is baby bird season, meaning that this is the time of year when baby birds start growing out of their nests.

3) The baby bird's parents will still feed and take care it, even though it has been touched by a human.

I feel wiser already. Though I have to say I'm worried his parents won't find him.

-b

Newburyport Daily News photo

The ones that got away

2010-05-10T07:11:00.002-04:00

As the family departed Saturday for a day trip to Portland, Maine, we agreed that if it was raining too much, we wouldn't make a pit stop for any Massachusetts 351 pictures.

The plan was to take Exit 54 off Interstate 95, scoot north on Route 113, picking up photos in Georgetown, Groveland, and West Newbury (though Laura had consented to only Georgetown). All in all a 20-minute detour, landing us right back on 95 at Exit 57.

As we approached Exit 54, the sky cleared and the rain stopped, just in time for our arrival. But then I looked back and saw two thirds of the MA351 team sound asleep! As we passed Exit 55 I took this picture *. It was impossible to be annoyed that we were missing out on Project photos because they were so darn cute together.

We passed Exit 57 and the rain started on again. Perhaps in some parallel universe we'd have three new towns to share this week. But, alas, we'll have to give this route another try down the road.

-b

* No babies or mommies were at risk at the taking of this photo. With a hand on the wheel and eyes on the open road, taking this picture was safer than talking on the cell phone, texting, or eating while driving.

Water wars

2010-05-07T07:07:00.009-04:00

We've seen water come front and center on several fronts in recent months. And if every stream eventually leads to the ocean, we need to be more protective of the sea as I see it. We, after all, live in the Bay State.

March 2: Another giant garbage patch is discovered in the Atlantic.

March 31: President Obama breaks a campaign pledge to explore more offshore drilling.

April Edition: A National Geographic edition called "Water: A Thirsty World" sits on my bed stand.

April 22: BP offshore oil spill off the Gulf Coast.

April 29: Secretary of the interior allows Cape Wind to move forward, leaving fellow Cape Codders split.

April 29: Concord Town Meeting outlaws bottled water to keep plastic out of the ocean. Though it's doubtful the measure will stick.

May 1: A massive water main break forced 26 communities east of Weston to boil their water or buy bottled water. Concord wasn't on the list.

May 3: BREAKING: Large Air Spill at Wind Farm. No threats reported. Some claim to enjoy the breeze. "Blow, Baby, Blow."

All the while I've been pretty much talking to myself about cleaning up my local river.

And as I wait for another Water World re-run, I often ponder how this Octopus got so smart...

We live in a world of contradictions, where weening ourselves off foreign oil means using our own and spilling our own. Where we seek alternative power, like wind, but shudder at the thought of our special vistas spoiled by turbines. Where we use too much plastic and it's ending up in the oceans, but need plastic in emergencies and everyday life. Where one person's efforts to clean our waterways seem futile compared to oil spills and floating garbage islands. Where I have plenty of water, while others suffer through drought. The size of the sea has always reminded me of how small my problems are. But I'm starting to realize how deep the ocean's problems are.

-b

It's time for Fenway Park to move on

2010-05-05T07:05:00.006-04:00

Jon Lester takes the mound on April 18.

Fenway Park should be relocated. There, I said it. Burn me at the stake if you must.

My main reasons? It's just not family friendly enough. It's hard to get to. Once you're there, it's hard to navigate. When you find your seat, it's usually pretty uncomfortable. And once a kid sits in a seat, he or she wants to move and there is nowhere to go. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention the small fortune you'll have to shell out to experience the Red Sox in person with the family.

Laura and I went to the April 18 game against the Rays. I'd won two grandstand tickets (worth $90 a piece) at a company Christmas party. But I didn't see any kids under, say, 7 years old. Laura says she saw a few newborns - but babies that little just sleep all the time and are very portable. I couldn't imagine bringing Will (now 15 months old).

I'm too young to remember the days when you could get a great seat for $10 on the day of the game. In fact, what I've seen is the Red Sox continually squeezing young families out of the picture.

The tickets are so expensive (I think $10 to $20 is reasonable, but now only a handful of Upper Bleachers go for that) because the park only holds about 35,000 fans. And to compete with the Yankees, the Red Sox need cash. If they built a bigger park, more fans could attend - and would - and tickets wouldn't have to be the most expensive in Major League Baseball ($334 to take a family of four). Plus, you wouldn't have to wait a day in the virtual waiting room when they first go on sale to get a weekend game (small kids and weeknight activities don't mix).

The seats are uncomfortably crammed because they need to use every square centimeter of park to make money. There is no play area for kids to move around during a long game because there is no space for that. If you dare to drive in (probably easiest with small kids), prepare to spend big bucks to park nearby (though Laura figured out Beacon Street parking is free on Sundays in Brookline).

Are there bigger problems in the world to worry about? Probably. But this is creeping up the list. I mean, this is the Red Sox, we're talking about here.

Now, there's a catch. I don't want a new park. The chapel of Fenway must endure. It should just move. Every brick, nail and blade of grass. The dimensions - including the expansive right field and triangle in center - should remain all the same. And of course, the Green Monster as is, dents and all.

Move it all just as it is to a new site and build up and out. Seats could go up, like at Yankees stadium. And space for kids - and food and fun - could go out.

Fenway Park would still be historic. It would still be special. It just would have better digs.

So where should we move this shrine? The Boston waterfront. Ever been to the Pavillion or the World Trade Center? I'm no expert, but I see untapped potential down in that part of the city. If not there, somewhere else in the city near water.

Water. The ocean. The untapped resource of Boston. Every coastal city I've ever visited better utilizes its waterfront, bringing in valuable views and tourist dollars.

This is the same reason Mayor Menino suggested City Hall move down there. However, City Hall belongs in a central location, so his idea wasn't the right fit. But a ball park? Perfect. I hear Camden Yards, home of the Baltimore Orioles, is stunning. We can't let Baltimore be better than Boston!

Fenway Park shouldn't just be for the well off. Or scalpers. Or companies that give away free tickets (even to me). Or fans with such devotion that they're willing to pay anything to be there. If Fenway Park is truly the spiritual center of New England, it should be open to all its congregation.

Just watch on TV and quit complaining, right? In an effort to squeeze every dollar out of the current situation, almost all the televised games have moved to NESN. Friday nights on local TV are even long gone. When the economy turned south, Laura and I gave up expanded cable and lost the Red Sox. If you live in Massachusetts, you're blacked out from watching online. Listening to games can be fun, but AM is of such poor quality, the games don't even come in at our house. So I've followed one entire Sox game this year: on April 18.

Who am I though? The ownership doesn't care what I think. Every night is a sell out. They've refurbished Fenway nicely in its current footprint - and I can't fathom they'd move (for one it would cost too much). What do they care about some cheapskate dad who won't fork out the dough, suffer through the inconvenience, and support the team at all costs. He can't be a real fan.

But I am. I've followed the team since I was a kid and have a Wade Boggs rookie card and the above photo of me in the 1980s with my Sox hat on to prove it. Sox fandom is a family heirloom, going back to the beginning of the team. Legend has it Babe Ruth asked my great grandmother to dance at a Dorchester social back when the Bambino was still with the team. I'm now relegated to reading about my favorite sports franchise and listening to sports talk radio on my commute. I know that Ortiz continues to struggle, and that Lester is starting off slow again, and that V-Mart can't throw anyone out, and that Jacoby got a boo boo. But it's not the same.

Will would be too young to remember, but he should be baptized in the Old Towne Team's park soon. Not six years from now. For now we'll have to settle for kid-focused minor league ball, like the Seadogs and Spinners. And dream about watching the Red Sox live with the whole family - while feeling the cool breeze of the waterfront upon our faithful souls.

-b

This is Will on the first opening day of his life in 2009. He's outgrown his Big Papi shirt and now dons a Pedroia jersey quite often.

"Purgatory to Podunk" with the Lincolns

2010-05-03T07:06:00.006-04:00

Photo from the T&G

How cool is this? The Lincolns of Lunenburg have set up a traveling road show of sorts, visiting senior centers across the Bay State to share their experiences of visiting every town in Massachusetts.

I really wish I could make it to this presentation, but far away at dinner time on a Thursday night is not baby-friendly. Here is what the Taunton Daily Gazette has to say about the program:

The public library is hosting "Purgatory to Podunk" at 6 p.m. Thursday, May 13. at the meeting room on the lower level of Dighton Town Hall.

This quirky audiovisual presentation features the travels of retired teachers Pete and Debbie Lincoln.

Pete and Debbie have visited all 351 towns of Massachusetts - collecting little facts and fun finds along the way - including surprising facts about Dighton.

This is a free presentation, and pizza and refreshments will be served.

The library staff does require registration for this program, as they need 25 people to sign up in order for it to be held.

For more information, please contact Brenda Carr at 508-669-6421.

We first wrote about the Lincolns in 2008 just as they finished their Project. We haven't connected yet, but I hope to someday - maybe even getting to sit in on their presentation.

I've also daydreamed about establishing an annual luncheon for people embarking on the quest of visiting each of the 351 towns in the state. I believe Rutland is the geographic center of Massachusetts and might make a sensible rendezvous point.

-b

north reading

2010-04-30T06:57:00.000-04:00

North Reading is here in Middlesex County

We need your help sharing info about North Reading. If you've ever spent any time here, please consider completing one or both of the following sentences that we can put on this post:

North Reading is great because...

If you go to North Reading, make sure to...

You can comment on this post or e-mail mass351@yahoo.com. Thanks!

Un-Trashing the Assabet: Part IV

2010-04-28T08:48:00.003-04:00

***

My quixotic mission to save a sliver of the Assabet River continued last weekend and I have the poison ivy, filthy clothes, and three bags of trash to prove it.

It was Hudson Cleanup Weekend and our family was swamped with errands and activities. I wasn't sure I'd make the time to get out there and participate. But then, as we were driving out of town on Saturday, I saw a dude in a black sports car sitting in downtown traffic reach out his window and throw a Cheetos bag onto the road. Seriously. It became clear to me that if we don't have one person who cares cancel out each person who doesn't our planet is in real trouble.

So on Sunday morning before heading to a barbecue, I put on my most disposable garb, grabbed my work gloves and a rake, and filled the backpack with supplies. I walked over to the riverbank at the nearby Sunoco and put my words to action.

***

As I systematically tackled self-imagined quadrants of riverside, dropping trash into my over-sized contractor trash bag as I went, I noticed - amongst wrappers, bottles, and bags - evidence of the wildlife that still calls the Assabet River home. Tracks from birds were interspersed with prints from mammals. And it killed me to know that these animals live with our garbage.

I brought my camera though had no designs on documenting the endeavor. But as I explored deeper, I discovered new views that were worth capturing - with my phone because my camera's batteries ended up being dead. This is the picturesque scene from the other side of the old train bridge (away from the Main Street), where homes line the Assabet and where all the trash from Sunoco's patrons flows downstream.

Looking off the recently rebuilt Main Street bridge, I'd always been fascinated by what appeared to be a pine tree growing on top of the old train bridge that runs perpendicular to the road, over the river and behind Sunoco. I still wonder where the roots go.

About two hours in, my contractor bag was about two-thirds full. I felt I had been making some progress. Then I heard some ruffling in the leaves above. I'd been wondering if a patron might be curious what a person was doing down in the brush or if a squirrel might come to investigate. But as I looked closely, I saw the noise was just from a Burger King sandwich wrapper. It landed on a sector that had taken me a half hour to clear. Directly above you can see the trash can (one of the Sunoco owner's attempts at solving the litter problem) this paper blew by while I was standing there. This is when it became clear that one person wasn't going to make much difference collecting garbage. The stuff I picked up would just be replaced by more junk.

About 30 feet to the right of the BK wrapper I found this receipt from Sunoco's Dunkin Donuts. It's dated April 24, the day before I was there - and the first day of Hudson Cleanup Weekend.

Logs and tree stumps freeze in time what happens: Trash comes from the parking lot and gravity ushers it down the hill and, eventually, into the river. Unless the trash gets caught behind something. So the more clear spots are just as unnerving; it just means the trash that was there had no impediments before it made its way into the water. But it's not just the new trash making its way down the hill that's the problem. I became passionate about this issue a few months ago when from the road I could see the mess. What is scarier is the litter you can't see. Just brush away the top layer of leaves and you can see last year's trash. Brush deeper and trash from the year before. As I tried to pick up older plastic bags and wrappers they would just shred to smaller pieces and I was reminded of those massive plastic patches they're finding in the oceans. At one point, it became clear that my efforts were like trying to clean up a landfill by hand.

It's not just paper, plastic, foil, glass, and Styrofoam out there on the riverbank. I found this car stereo someone disposed of. There also remain two mufflers I left because I wasn't sure what I'd do with them. If I figure that answer out a few years from now, I'm sure they'll still be there for me to retrieve.

It was a potpourri of corporate America out there. Dr Pepper, Pepsi, Budweiser, Snapple, Sour Patch Kids, Swedish Fish, Marlboro, Nestea, Coors, Polar, Quaker, McDonalds, Nestle, Burger King. There were dozens of plastic straws, bottle caps, and label-less bags. There were shoes and an old wallet. And this Marlborough Class of 2009 mug.

I jammed my contractor bag with as much as would fit, which turned out to be as much as I could carry. I estimated it weighed about twice the size of my son (who while on a walk by the Assabet last week first said the word "river"). On the walk back home, the roughly 50-pound bag tore open. I nearly dropped it in my parking lot.

I then drove down to Beyond Real Estate, which helps organize Hudson Cleanup Weekend, to pick up a few of their contractor bags to transfer the garbage from my broken bag to. One of mine fit into three of theirs. I'm still not quite sure what to do with these orange bags. Take them to the transfer station of course. But I feel like someone in town government needs to see what one guy hauled out of there in three hours. There's plenty more where it came from. It would take ten guys and a dump truck all day to really clear all the trash out. I could collect 50 pounds of trash from the Sunoco riverbank each month and I'd never catch up.

***

State Rep. Kate Hudson met me at Sunoco a few weekends ago to see the situation. She suggested I form a coalition to beautify the area and name the Main Street bridge (maybe after a Hudson veteran). She said it would be tough to get people to rally around saving a trashed spot, but that the place had potential and people might support something they could be proud of. She's right. But her idea would be a tremendous amount of work, and I just need to convince one Conservation Commission member (the chairman who the other members seem to follow) to force Sunoco to install a fence. And then the problem is solved.

Now, more than ever, I'm convinced a fence lining the Sunoco parking lot is the only answer to keep more garbage from ending up in the Assabet River. The Conservation Commission voted last month to wait six to 12 months to see if Sunoco cleans up its act. I think it's clear we've waited too long already.

-b

Walking in dinosaurs' shoes

2010-04-26T07:48:00.030-04:00

Dinosaurs rock. Can we agree to that?

OK, maybe Carl Everett and other there's-no-such-thing-as-dinosaurs folks, might not concur. Their loss.

I've been fascinated with dinosaurs since the beginning of (my) time. I remember researching them as a little kid for no particular reason - you know, back when print encyclopedias were sold in grocery store aisles. I'd find every text I could on the creatures and consolidate the info into a notebook. This was back when I was studious; we're talking the fourth grade - it was all down hill from there.

I still dig dinos. Not literally, but with curiosity. I watch Discovery Channel shows like Walking with Dinosaurs. I read all the newspaper stories about the new discoveries. I remember the extinction by meteor theory back when it was a far out concept. I'm no expert, but I know even the supporting cast: Diplodocus, Arqueopterix, Brachiosaurus. The last being my favorite as a tyke.

I'm not bragging. In fact, I'm not sure any of this is stuff to be proud of. I admit to sometimes watching Dinosaur Train when Will isn't around. It just is what it is.

So a while back Laura and I noticed during our Massachusetts 351 Project travels a spot on the map in the western part of the state that says: Dinosaur Footprints. We never made it there, despite all my whining. Then, on a mission last week to buy a cheap freezer in Holyoke, I went the wrong way (my modus operandi). Sometimes, though, the wrong path is the right one. I passed this sign...

That's right: DINOSAUR FOOTPRINTS. Ahhhh! It was like a siren song calling me in. I had no choice but to pull over and inspect the site.

I've seen fossils in museums, but never in their natural habitat. For 15 minutes I felt like Jack Horner - the Indiana Jones of paleontologists. There were no bones, but maybe even better, there were tracks.

Sandwiched between Route 5 and the Connecticut River - on what must be less than an acre of hill leading down to train tracks and then the water - are slabs of rock littered with footprints from eons ago. I was like a kid in a dinosaur footprint store hopping from one imprint to another.

Here's what the Trustees of Reservations (a rad preservation group) has to say about the spot in its brochure:

What makes Dinosaur Footprints special? We think it's a treasure trove of more than 130 tracks revealed in slabs of sandstone. Researchers believe these prints were left by small groups of two-legged, carnivorous dinosaurs up to 15 feet tall. The entire Connecticut River Valley - which scientists believe was subtropical a "mere" 190 million years ago - has long been recognized for its wealth of prehistoric footprints.

Whoa. Jurassicly cool.

I was late, so I didn't have time to sit and meditate too much on the find. I just tried to see as many-three toed impressions in the rock as I could. I put my hand in a few for scale. Where were these beasts going? Frozen in time, I thought of that biblical footsteps poem: "During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you." I imagined creatures long gone, their trials and suffering, their youngsters. And their ending.

Then man's impact on the world all around hit me. Route 5 running, literally, right over the fossilized rock slab. A drainage pipe nearby sputtering where a stream probably once ran. Train tracks at the base of the hill. And little chalk circles around many of the prints that at first annoyed me. But then I settled on the idea that the markings weren't permanent - unlike the road and the spout and the tracks - and likely the result of some curious Bobb-like kid.

"Take only pictures, leave only footprints." I know I saw that somewhere once.

Moments before I stopped the car to see the prints, NPR had told me it was Earth Day. I couldn't help but think about how the fate of dinosaurs was likely not their own causing. And that ours probably will be. And I thought about taking Will back to this place someday.

-b

ESPN.com photo of Carl Everett at top

Newton

2010-04-23T08:01:00.008-04:00

Newton is here in Middlesex County

Back in college a friend and I embarked on adventure to find a new location for Sweet Tomatoes we had heard of. It was in the far off-Cape land of Newton. I think we took the train from Braintree.

I worked at Sweet Tomatoes in Sandwich and Osterville and still consider it the best pizza ever.

Later on in life, Laura and I used to park in Newton Centre to take the train into the city. And we'd usually grab a few slices on the way. That was until we got a few tickets. And, sadly (though probably not so sadly to locals), we've been forced to park elsewhere.

After college Laura got a job working at Mount Ida College, which made me jealous of her access to delicious pizza. She also discovered a fun 1950s style diner called Johnny's Luncheonette.

We've also heard the Newton is one of the safest cities in America. It has beautiful Victorian homes everywhere. And two of the cast members from one of our favorite shows, The Office, are from Newton: John Krasinski and B.J. Novak.

Wikipedia tells me actors Matt Damon, Bette Davis, Matt LeBanc, and Joe Rogan all lived in Newton. Writers who lived in Newton include Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Harriet Beecher Stowe.

Another fun fact: Apparently, the Fig Newton is named after the city. When I was about 10 years old I ate an entire package of Fig Newtons while watching Disney's animated Robin Hood.

And if I ever get my act together and run the Boston Marathon, the infamous Heartbreak Hill is in Newton.

-b

Laura at Sweet Tomatoes in Newton.

Brookline

2010-04-21T07:48:00.015-04:00

Brookline is here in Norfolk County

So we've heard: My coworker Christian grew up in Brookline, which he calls Bline. He suggested visitors check out out the Coolidge Corner Theatre, Booksmith, a chill bar called O'Leary's, and the Indian food at Rani.

He says it's the hometown of John Krakauer (one of my favorite authors), John Hodgman (who was on the Daily Show for a bit), and Bob Margolin, who played in Muddy Waters' Band.

Wikipedia tells me that even though more than 50,000 people live in Brookline, they still call themselves a town and operate with the town government of a Board of Selectmen and representative Town Meeting.

And apparently one of the four oldest puppet theaters - The Puppet Showcase Theater - is located in Brookline Village.

Other notable current and former residents include John F. Kennedy, Theo Epstein, Conan O'Brien, and James Taylor.

-b

Runners and gunners

2010-04-19T07:39:00.002-04:00

Laura and I were in Boston to watch the Red Sox play the Rays -

and the Lexington Minute Men were there gearing up for Patriots' Day.

If you live outside the Interstate 495 belt in Massachusetts, the third Monday in April is probably just another day for you.

For years, I thought it was just another one of those made up Bay State holidays, like Bunker Hill Day, that other people got off work.

Then a friend ran the Boston Marathon (supposedly one of the toughest and best), and I had a chance to go out there and cheer him on at the end. It was amazing to see so many runners, many supporting causes, giving their all for 26.2 miles. I was a runner in my younger days, but nowadays don't have the dedication for the long hours of training it would take to survive such a race. Someday, though, I hope to run at least one.

Marathon Monday is huge from Hopkinton to Boston. Viewers line the streets the whole way for the whole day. It is something to behold. Laura and I were in the city this weekend and saw runners getting in a few last chances at training. You can read stories about runners from all over the region and world here.

But today is so much more than just the marathon. Turns out the history surrounding April 19, 1775 (celebrated on the third Monday of the month) is quite significant. When I first landed a job as an editor in the Concord area, I didn't take Patriots' Day seriously enough. And the local Minute Men let me know it. Since then, I've joined my colleagues in celebrating the day the Colonials first challenged the British regulars to a fight.

I've yet to attend the 5 a.m. reenactment ceremonies in Lexington, but I've been to the Old North Bridge activities in Concord and the whole experience is quite moving. I helped put together a site that brings together all my company's Patriots' Day coverage that you can see here.

And then there's the question, which is bigger these days: Patriots' Day or the Boston Marathon? That's debated here, but I'll avoid death by sneaker trampling or musket fire by saying: It's pretty cool they both happen in Massachusetts and on the same day (along with the only morning start time for the Red Sox). I have tremendous respect for the runners and reenactors. Perhaps they should just rename it the Patriots' Marathon.

-b

The Lexington Minute Men Fife and Drum Corps playing

the National Anthem at the April 18 Boston Red Sox game.

Shipwrecked landlubbers learn their lesson

2010-04-16T10:44:00.013-04:00

Now that spring is here again and the warm weather is beckoning us to enjoy our local waterways, I've started daydreaming more about taking the old canoe out for a spin.

Each weekday I commute past the spot where Laura and I launched our big, red canoe for a ride along the Assabet River last July. Will was just sixth months old. We were exhausted and eager for a rare baby break. So Will went to his grandparents for the day, and Laura and I strapped my dad's old fiberglass canoe to the top of the car and headed out to a canoe launch we'd never used before in Stow.

It was a beautiful trip down stream. The sun was shining. Wildlife was everywhere. We ate lunch on the shore near the Collings Foundation where old-time planes take off. Downstream there were families canoeing and kayakers paddling.

It was hard to admit when it was time to head back. It would have been more difficult if we knew what was in store for us.

What follows is a missive I sent to friends and family the day after...

So here's some more info on the canoe crash... Laura and I decided to try out a new river down the street while Will was at his grandparents. A few minutes into the trip we heard water rushing. We investigated to find some mini rapids - just the result of the river narrowing. So we decided we could get through the short rough patch without dying and went for it. It was a bit hairy, but we made it. We then had a nice trip down river, beautiful day, saw kayakers, turtles, and the estate where I took off for my birthday biplane ride.

As we made our way back, the current was strong against us, but we were doing OK. Another canoe followed behind us - a big guy, his tiny wife, and their teenage son - but they were unfamiliar with the area and had asked us for directions. We got back to those mini rapids. We paddled hard to get up them, but were pushed back down river. We gave it a second try and got up them, but once we were up them, we let up too much and started to get pulled back. The front end of the canoe started turning down river - like we were turning around. I yelled to Laura, "If you don't keep paddling straight we're doomed!" Seconds later we were perpendicular with the river and started going over the rapids sideways. But the canoe hit trees on each end and stopped.

Once the canoe stopped, it acted like a damn. The water smashed into it and had nowhere to go but up and in. The canoe started filling and sinking. We got Laura up and out and on the shore in seconds and tossed our bags to her. But by then the canoe was full of water and sunk - and weighed hundreds of pounds because of the water. Too heavy for me to pick up and get the water out - especially with the current locking it in place.

The canoers behind us offered us help. "Hey, is this your pink flipflop?!" they said as they scooped it out of the river. Laura took back her flip flop that had come off in the crash, and the three guys hoisted the canoe up and out and dumped the water - only thigh deep where we were. Amazingly there were no cracks or holes in the canoe, just scratches.

In order to clear ourselves of the rapids, I had to walk through river death muck (snapping turtles? snakes? rusty knives?!). I tried to swim and push while Laura paddled (like in Last of the Mohicans) but that didn't work. Luckily, I had one of my crappy Adidas sandals left and Laura's pink one - both left feet.

At this point we heard a woman scream down river. The other canoers had crashed - and we were worried because they weren't wearing preservers. We pulled over and I trudged through the marsh woods to help. We were a minute from calling 911. But they yelled they were OK before I could get there.

At that point I had to get back in our canoe without tipping it and we needed to paddle like mad through the strong current and downed trees - we were just five minutes from the boat launch. If we failed in paddling hard enough we would have been sucked back to the rapids with no help the second time. Lots of yelling and crying happened at this point. "For God's sake, paddle Laura!!!" "I am paddling!"

We made it back. And here's what we learned:
Neither of us was mad at the other. Laura finished up the crying from the stress. And I wasn't mad at her for being a girl.
No rapids for us ever again. We'll turn around and go home instead.
My dad bought a tough canoe. The thing should have snapped in half.
If those canoers weren't behind us, our canoe would still be there.
We were almost the only dorks on the river with life preservers. But we always will be.
At this point it's just a funny story to remember and no one was in any real danger. But you never know and we'll be the most boring non-risk takers from now on - especially now that we're parents.
-Bobb

That last bullet point sticks with me even now. As parents, we take zero safety risks nowadays. And when we have a baby break, which is once in a blue moon, we try to keep things low key, so we're not more tired and stressed when we're back on duty.

But we won't give up on canoeing. Will may be too small this year, but in the future we'll be paddling our way through Massachusetts' rivers, ponds, and streams. Just ones with calm water, like in the photo below of our excursion to Lake Boon in 2008.

-b

Together we can ... make better slogans

2010-04-14T07:41:00.001-04:00

Whether you support Massachusetts Gov. Deval Patrick or not, you've got to admit this is a clever bumper sticker.

It's made even more clever because of where I saw it: on the back of dump trucks at the local transfer station. "Dump Deval" at the dump. Get it?!

I always thought that slogan of his - "Together We Can" - was silly. "Together we can what?" I would often shout. At least Obama would offer some specific ("Can we get health care for everyone?") before yelling "Yes We Can" at his campaign rallies.

Patrick, who I may end up voting for, has had some missteps and successes - outlined well here - but he better think of a better slogan for 2010 before this dump bumper sticker takes off.

-b

Making a great list

2010-04-12T08:21:00.007-04:00

What's your favorite place in Massachusetts?

It's a tough decision. The ocean? The mountains? A park, river, or lake? Historic or cultural? There are so many to choose from. And the Massachusetts Office of Travel and Tourism wants your submission as it narrows down its official list of 1,000 Great Places in Massachusetts.

The deadline for suggestions is Wednesday, April 15, so vote now!

Chronicle will have a special segment on the contest April 12. Here you can see some of their viewers' suggestions.

I was hoping to nominate a bunch of places. But the state asks for just your top pick. After some deliberating, I chose Bash Bish Falls in Mount Washington, Massachusetts. The place is an awe-inspiring jewel that not many Bay Staters know exists.

Here is a list (which adds on to what Laura shared last year on the topic) of some of the top great places Laura and I have stumbled upon while exploring Massachusetts:

Bash Bish Falls, Mount Washington (We need to go back and get a better picture!)

The clay cliffs off Aquinnah

Purgatory Chasm, Sutton

Rocky Neck Art Colony, Gloucester

Balance Rock, Pittsfield

The Battle Green, Lexington

Sandwich Boardwalk, Sandwich

Fenway Park

Cape Cod Canal

Fruitlands Museum, Harvard

World's End, Hingham

Wayside Inn, Sudbury

Scargo Tower, Dennis

Wellfleet Drive In, Wellfleet

Symphony Hall, Boston

Tanglewood, Lenox

Mt. Greylock, Lanesborough

Academy of Music Theatre, Northampton

Drumlin Farm, Lincoln

Old North Bridge, Concord

Let us know what your Great Place is so we can make sure to visit it!

-b

Running down a dream

2010-04-09T10:44:00.004-04:00

Every once in a while Laura and I come across a tale about folks who make us feel better about our mission to visit every town in Massachusetts.

And thanks to a note from a friend, we know the story of the Shortlidges of Melrose. This couple started out participating in the annual Great American Backyard Campout. And they just kept on camping ... for more than 275 days.

First of all, I think we can all agree that camping rocks. There's just no other way to say it. Laura and I have camped our way all over Massachusetts: Brewster, Martha's Vineyard, the Berkshires, and more wacky misadventures. It's cheap and it gets you closer to nature.

But what the Shortlidges are doing - even throughout winter - is amazing. It's like Forrest Gump when he just kept on running for no particular reason. Or us when we just kept on driving to one Bay State town after another. The Shortlidges just kept on camping - and I'm pretty jealous.

-b

Boston Globe photo.

A (littered) river runs near us

2010-04-08T13:31:00.008-04:00

The battle is lost. But the struggle continues.

A few weeks back Will and I noticed a ton of trash from Sunoco patrons was ending up in the Assabet River near our house. So I made a video of the landfill-like scene and sent it to all the movers and shakers I could think of. The response was tepid, but Sunoco cleaned up the riverbank within a week.

The problem is without a permanent fence installed, the trash just started piling up again. I complained some more and was invited to a Conservation Commission meeting with the Sunoco owner. Certainly, a change of roles for me as I'm used to reporting on meetings like this for newspapers.

I decided to take the high road and trust in the slow wheels of government to turn the situation around.

At the meeting last week, the owner seemed to be a nice enough guy, though his lawyer representative was pretty shallow. "Trash is everywhere," she said. "Even at Walmart."

Oh boy.

The owner said he put some trash barrels out there. And would install some no littering signs. But he was against the idea of a fence despite acknowledging, "People will be people" and still throw their trash toward the river.

One panelist on the five-member Conservation Commission suggested installing a fence now - after all Sunoco had already been ordered three times in three years to clean riverbank messes up.

I shared a few words with the board along these lines - trying to be respectful and hoping the obviousness of the situation would make the environment the winner over an oil corporation.

But the chairman seemed to have his mind made up before the meeting began. His motion to give Sunoco another six months to a year to see how things went passed unanimously.

I took the results pretty hard. This is part of my message to those same movers and shakers:

As I reflect on the meeting I can't help but think: What harm would a fence do? Why wouldn't the Conservation Commission, which is charged with protecting the local environment, say, "It's been three years. You've been ordered three times too many already to pick up trash there. You're supported by a big company. You can afford a fence. And the river cannot afford you not to put a fence there."

I doubt the evidence will ever be as strong as now that a fence is needed. The owner will keep the area just picked up enough to avoid that "drastic" measure. But there are new bottles on the hill now, fresh from after the most recent cleanup. And some will make their way into the water to float alongside the beaver, ducks, frogs I've seen in the river on morning walks with my son.

It's hard to see that fence ever being installed. The Board of Health has asked me to let them know if it gets bad again and they can issue fines. State Representative Kate Hogan has agreed to me Will and I at the site on Friday. A co-worker suggested I go out there once a month, collect all the trash in bags, and deposit it at subsequent Conservation Commission meetings. An intriguing option.

Mostly though, I get the sense that no one else thinks this is worth their time - and that is pretty discouraging. One of the five selectmen is interested. But the bike trail people don't care. The Organization for the Assabet River doesn't care. The state's environmental "Strike Force" doesn't care.

I mean, this isn't the 1980s when tossing trash into a watershed was no big deal. It's kind of embarrassing to live in a town that would allow this to happen. I've been a journalist for many years in places like Stow, Acton, and Boxborough. Towns like that (that is, towns with activist residents and municipal board members who are militant about the environment) would have zero tolerance for a gas station spoiling a river.

Laura reminded me that maybe the river has way bigger problems and that folks see this as small scale. I'd agree that a small fix (a fence) would make this issue go away forever. And I would think that the simplicity of the solution would make this change an easier fix than WR Grace cleanups.

I know I'm not Gandhi or Nelson Mandela or Martin Luther King or even Jan Schlichtmann. But it's really the principle of the thing: small changes can make big differences. The lonely fight goes on. At least I'll be able to look my son in the eyes and say I tried.

-b

A Great Flood

2010-04-06T09:55:00.005-04:00

So there has been a terrible amount of flooding in New England in recent weeks. Laura and I have lucked out with a dry garage so far and have only been inconvenienced by a few road closings.

But plenty of Massachusetts residents have had serious home flooding problems. One co-worker who lives in Bolton had her driveway washed away and was stranded at home on what became a small island.

On our way to Easter church service we saw the scene in the picture above in Acton. I thought it was just a funny spray paint job about the weather until I saw the homeowners were actually trying to sell a decent-sized sailboat. Then I realized this was all just a sign of the times: a soggy forecast and a soggy economy.

-b

Trashing the Assabet (Part 2)

2010-03-30T07:11:00.002-04:00

So far I'm still alive. No one has stolen my identity. I don't see a shady van with tinted windows outside my house monitoring my every move and bugging my calls.

Laura had told me beforehand that compared to my college era antics (I once was on the Springfield TV news because I slept in a shanty mansion I built on the Westfield State Campus Green) that this saving the river business was quite mild.

I heard back from a selectmen, the Board of Health agent, and the Conservation Commission. Apparently, this is the third time in three years Sunoco has been ordered to clean up their riverbank mess. On Monday they were out there picking up the trash.

And the Conservation Commission, a local volunteer board for the town, wants the Sunoco owner and me to attend their next meeting. I've been a reporter at meetings like this plenty of times, but never the one speaking to the board. I'm not even sure whether to be nervous or just channel my inner Jimmy Stewart: "Mr. Bobb Goes to the Conservation Commission."

What I'm really after is permanent change. Clearly, Sunoco hasn't done anything to stop the trash from going into the river in three years. I'm going to see what I can do to convince the ConsCom that a very tall fence is in order.

-b

PS: I believe the goal of the shanty mansion was to raise awareness about homelessness. But looking back, it just feels like a patronizing prank. I can't see how it helped anything.

Back of Bike (B of the B) Day

2010-03-22T08:00:00.006-04:00

On the first nice Saturday of Spring we headed out on the Assabet River Rail Trail. Laura hopes to make every Saturday morning with good weather B of the B Day. More on that below:

Trashing the Assabet River

2010-03-19T14:23:00.009-04:00

I sent this note to everyone I thought might care and have some power to fix the problem: the EPA, DEP (they have a Strike Force!), selectmen, legislators, rail trail, river watchdogs.

In my younger days activism was part of life; river cleanups were fun volunteerism. But it's been a while since I've pulled a stunt like this.

Now, with a bit of perspective a few gray hairs bring and a fully developed frontal lobe, I worry about unintended consequences and about putting myself out there in a controversial way. But most of all I worry about what kind of a world my son will inherit - especially if regular people like me don't go out of their comfort zones to demand change.

I'm writing to you as a concerned citizen. My one-year-old son and I were out walking on the Assabet River Rail Trail this week and as we looked down off the bridge where the river crosses under Route 62 (Main Street) we saw lots of trash scattered down the embankment and into the water.

It is clear that the trash is coming from the parking lot of Sunoco, Dunkin Donuts, and A Plus Convenience at 422 Main St. There are Dunkin Donuts cups, empty motor oil containers, and beverage cans/bottles everywhere.

You can see a slideshow of the mess here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNXZ2TuhrKs

I am so appalled that I plan to go out there myself and pick up all of the trash at 9 a.m. on Sunday, March 28. Rain or shine.

But something must be done to prevent trash from coming from that parking lot and into the river in the future. I propose these changes:

1) A tall fence be built where the guard rail exists at the end of the parking lot and top of the embankment.

2) Trash barrels be placed along the fence for drivers to dispose of their waste.

3) Signs posting the fines for littering be installed on the fence.

Hudson's children deserve better. Its residents don't deserve to be embarrassed by such blight when visitors come along the rail trail. The towns that the river flows to next don't deserve our trash. And the wildlife that still exists in the river deserves our respect and protection.

These simple fixes will make a big difference.

Thank you,
Robert (last name here) of Hudson

I'll give updates as to how this all goes. But if you never hear from me again, it's because Big Oil dipped my feet in cement before tossing me in the deepest section of the Assabet.

-b

A flicker of silver screens

2010-03-15T11:06:00.000-04:00

As the credits for Crazy Heart (stellar movie) rolled in the tiny theater Laura and I saw the film in, I started thinking, again, about how cool independently-owned movie theaters are.

They're a dying breed nowadays. As we drive from town to town for the Massachusetts 351 Project, Laura and I see a lot of abandoned theaters in downtowns - particularly in small milltowns, which were once vibrant, but now in decline.

Maynard is a former milltown that has reinvented itself a few times: milltown, technology town with Digital Corp's headquarters, and now, with the exit of the mills and Digital, a wonderful little artsy town. It still maintains some of its tech persona, though, with companies like Curt Schilling's 38 Studios.

Because it was able to recreate itself as a destination for arts and entertainment (Laura and I see the town as a very likable mini-city, like Northampton in the middle of the bucolic suburbs), Maynard has been able to hold onto its local movie theater. And it was packed Friday night when we went out on a rare trip to the movies having secured Will's auntie for babysitting duties.

Independently-owned movie theaters have a few things in common. They're all old. They have old seats, old bathrooms, old movie screens, and old sound systems. The movies seem to crackle on the screen. The pictures aren't as clear and the audio not as crisp as a megaplex. Not exactly the right environment to see Avatar. But the perfect place for a movie that focuses on storytelling, because where you're seeing the movie only adds to the story.

At local movie theaters you'll find intimacy, authenticity, and nostalgia. You'll spend less on tickets and concessions. And you can feel good that your money is going to the family that owns the place, not shareholders.

Here's a list of other independently-owned movie theaters that Laura and I have enjoyed across Massachusetts:

Pleasant Street Theater, Northampton

Academy of Music Theatre, Northampton

Embassy Cinema, Waltham (This one feels independent, but I have no conviction that it is.)

Lexington Flick, Lexington

Capitol Theater, Arlington

Fine Arts Theatre, Maynard

Let us know if you know of others!

-b

Playing chicken

2010-03-12T13:20:00.001-05:00

I've been swamped with work and life lately. Writing a few posts in my mind: one about Nomah and one about turkeys. Maybe another about how Nomar is a turkey, or used to be until his goose got cooked.

But alas, I can't bring myself to post something thoughtful until a new dishwasher is purchased. It's been a few weeks too many since ours broke already. I'm having nightmares about washing baby bottles, and might pitch the idea to Stephen King soon.

In the meantime, please read this column in the Globe. My favorite columnist, writing about a favorite topic: pet chickens. Laura's been warned that once we have a yard of our own, we will have a chicken. Perhaps I'll name him Robert IV.

-b

"Yes, you are evil."

2010-03-03T07:46:00.004-05:00

On the day that new regulatory reforms went into effect for credit card companies, I went for a walk around my office building. While soaking in some winter rays and pondering the world in which my son will inherit, I decided to call Bank of America and cancel my credit card.

I was on hold for about 10 minutes, and then a human voice:

"Bank of America, how can I help you."

"I'd like to cancel my credit card."

"Certainly, sir."

(clickety clack sound of a keyboard)

"Would you like me to log why?"

"Yes, I think your bank is evil."

"Certainly, sir. Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Thank you for calling Bank of America."

In the span of 30 seconds, BOA had let a customer of more than a decade walk away. They didn't try to argue that they are not evil. They didn't try to offer me incentives to stay.

Perhaps that's because I haven't carried a balance in years, and they make no money off me. Or maybe it's because they are evil.

But I'm happy to not be supporting a bank that's "too big to fail," that took unnecessary risks with Americans' money, that is now rewarding the very people who brought the country to the brink of a Depression with exorbitant bonuses. I'm no expert, but this is what I believe.

It's worth a dip in my credit score to close a longstanding account with an unsavory corporation. And it's worth giving up the Red Sox themed card I had received in exchange for a free T-shirt at Fenway back in college. All I really wanted was the Sox T-shirt.

Most of all, I'm proud to be banking locally (here's a list of Massachusetts banks and credit unions), which I finally realize is as important as shopping locally and eating locally grown food. As I continue to lose faith in our government to properly put the economy back in order, my faith in the American public voting with their wallets remains. Here's to hoping more Americans join this Move Your Money campaign.

-b

Day 28: Discretionary Spending Fast

2010-02-28T21:30:00.001-05:00

Twenty-eight days in, here is where the February Discretionary Spending Fast stands...

$2.90. The amount of discretionary spending Laura and I used in February.

While watching the Olympics this weekend, there was a German skater who fell just before the finish line, but she slid across and still won the race. That's kind of how this $2.90 feels. We were just a day from spending no discretionary money in February. So close.

But all of a sudden, things started breaking around the house. The biggest is the dishwasher. We have a plan to buy a new one - in three weeks. So there will be a lot of dish washing around here until then. I convinced Laura to agree to use a gift card we had to Five Guys Burgers on Saturday night, so we could have one night of no dishes before the long slog ahead. We didn't know how much was on the card - but decided to risk that there was enough.

When we got to the cash register, they told us the card, which I got from work, was only for $10! We managed to pick a drink and burgers to share as a family for $10.07. "Fine," we thought. "Seven cents in one month is not too shabby." But when Laura had to exchange her veggie burger (which oddly came with just vegetables in a burger bun), we decided to splurge and use discretionary cash on fries.

But we didn't have to do dishes. And Will was in his element, gobbling up the fries and soaking up the attention of all the burger patrons. We might have fallen $2.90 short of our goal, but we're still proud of the effort.

$25.71. Paying for stuff that breaks doesn't count as discretionary spending. So the new ceiling light fixture and batteries for Will's play kitchen we got at Lowe's were OK by our rules. However, we didn't have the chance to use free library passes to go anywhere cool this month, and I desperately wanted Will to wear his Vietnamese formal wear (a gift) out before he outgrew it. So we had him wear it to Lowe's.

$10. The amount we saved having me stand at a live infomercial at BJ's last weekend for 15 minutes. I walked away with two free paring knives. Currently, the only two sharp knives in the house.

$0. The amount we spent at Tatnuck Booksellers and Cafe this weekend. Used a Christmas present gift card to get me a gardening book, Will a puzzle, and Laura some Jelly Bellies. A pretty nice little Sunday.

-b

They are out there

2010-02-24T06:56:00.017-05:00

Yes, they are out there. People as adventurous/crazy as Laura and I, attempting to visit each town in Massachusetts.

Marcfoto of Flickr has his own spin on the Massachusetts 351 Project. He's taking beautiful photos in each town.

It's heartwarming to know there are others as inspired by the Bay State as we are. Happy travels to anyone anywhere who hits the road with a map, a challenge, and a camera!

-b

PS: The thumbnails above are screen grabs from Marcfoto's site.

Opportunities lost and found

2010-02-22T07:42:00.012-05:00

Saturday morning I ventured forth in search of some peace and produce. I found both at the Wayland Winter Farmers Market, which was wrapping up its season. But there was one opportunity left behind.

Engrossed in my own preoccupations, it was a day when every error and misstep resulted in a sigh. When I finally stood at the end of the long line to Winter Moon Farm's table, I realized I didn't have enough cash on me. It was one of those days. That meant a slog back across the length of several football fields to the Echo's turbid parking spot

The nearest ATM was Bank of America. A $3 charge just to withdraw some dough?! You To Big To Fail corporate thieves! Here's hoping that more people catch on to banking locally.

Finally, back to the Winter Moon line, cash in hand, ready to finally chill out. The long line at the farm stand didn't matter anymore because it meant the market's best vendor was thriving.

But a few of the other people in line were still clutching to their cross mornings. "Why is this taking so long?" one lady said out loud.

I scanned ahead past a dozen shapes of heads to find The Farmer. He was moving as fast as he could, punching numbers into a hand held calculator with element worn hands, the grime of his profession tattooed under his nails. He wore his trademark (at least to me) wool vest, his flannel arms waving to and fro.

Why was the line taking so long? Let us count the ways ...

1) He's one guy manning the calculator and a tin of cash. He can't afford to pay someone to be there with him, because if he spends one cent more on top of the gas money from Hadley the trip won't be worth it.

2) His booth is packed with patrons because he has the best organic veggies, the fall harvest kind, including potatoes, gigantic orange and white carrots, something he calls psychedelic watermelon radishes, and a whole bunch of other root-based edible plants beyond my comprehension.

3) Every now and then he has to leave his "cash register," go under the table, pull out boxes of his goods, and restock the dwindling piles.

This is where I come in. People were dropping out of line, jockeying for position, rolling their eyes. And in a split second I had a reverie where I crouch down there with him and say, "Hey Mr. Farm Guy, let me restock your veggies while I'm standing here so you can cash out some customers."

In real life I just stood there, content in my happy place, chuckling in my head at the people who weren't pleased with the pace of progress. "Hey, there's a Whole Foods next to the dumb Bank of America ATM if you don't have the heart to give this guy a break," I proudly said in my head.

That bravado deflated when The Farmer looked up at me from under the table with eyes that had probably been awake since dawn and said to me in a neighborly voice, "Hey, looks like you have two free arms. Would you mind replenishing some of these vegetables?"

The Farmer was just doing what he needed to for survival. It was Social Darwinism at the Winter Farmers Market.

And so I eagerly replenished a pile of bizarre vegetables, some relative of the parsnip. When I made it to the "register" he thanked me and rounded down my total in a gesture of good will. I told him I only wished I had offered to help so he didn't have to ask.

On the drive home, having successfully found fresh provender and a fresh outlook for the day, I realized I was no better than the impatient people standing in line. Because what use is my knowledge - or assumed understanding - of The Farmer's plight if I just stand there and watch him fall behind?

What is it that prevents me from being bold and offering to help a stranger out? Is it nature, nurture, laziness, just one bad morning? Is it the Puritanical cantankerousness of us Massachusetts folk that takes the virtue of independence too far toward the desire for anonymity? Thoreau's vision of simplicity and solitude gone awry? Would the Southern hospitality version of me, living in Georgia in some parallel universe, have spoken up first? Do people in the Heartland have the heart to lend a hand? I have a friend from Oregon who would have volunteered as The Farmer's sidekick for the day.

Not that I think I'm a bad person, just a person who could be better.

-b

PS: After I wrote this up, I remembered I had taken a few pictures at the Winter Farmers Market last month. I searched my deleted folder and found the top shot of The Farmer referenced in this missive restocking his table. The bottom photo is of a farmer from Red Fire Farm. On that morning his calculator had broken and he had resorted to math on the back of a paper bag.

Are there any 2010 Olympians from your hometown?

2010-02-19T08:24:00.003-05:00

Thanks to WBUR, here is a list of 2010 Winter Olympic participants from Massachusetts.

Click on their names for links to recent stories in their hometown papers if I could find them. Click on their town for its MA351 post.

Kacey Bellamy, hockey - Westfield

Chuck Berkeley, bobsled - Pittsfield

Emily Cook, skiing - Belmont

Meghan Duggan, hockey - Danvers

Dylan Ferguson, skiing - Amesbury

Michelle Gorgone, snowboarding - Sudbury

Tyler Jewell, snowboarding - Boston

Steve Langton, bobsled - Melrose

Erika Lawler, hockey - Fitchburg

Michael Morse, skiing - Duxbury

Molly Schaus, hockey - Natick

Laura Spector, biathlon - Lenox

Ashley Walden, luge - Westborough

Bengt Walden, luge - Westborough

Ryan Whitney, hockey - Scituate

Laura and I are watching these Olympics closely to determine which sport Will should learn for the 2030 Games. She's thinking curling. And I'm leaning toward the bobbsled.

-b

Will-e

2010-02-17T08:25:00.000-05:00

Life imitating art.

Day 15: Discretionary Spending Fast

2010-02-15T07:25:00.002-05:00

Fifteen days in, here is where the February Discretionary Spending Fast stands...

$0. The amount of discretionary spending we've used in February. That is, the amount of money we've spent after saying to ourselves, "I want that," and buying it.

$13.79. Two 35-pound bags of tube sand for the trunk of the Echo. Meteorologists predicted the Blizzard of 2010, and I needed to weigh down the car to avoid sliding off the road. What we got was the Dusting of Nothing.

$24.95. This is how much it will cost to renew our Flickr account. We don't print photos for albums. Instead, we have an online Flickr album we started when Will was born. But to keep our pro account status we'll need to renew on Feb. 22. Not sure yet if this counts as discretionary spending or if we'll risk it and wait until March.

$0. The amount Laura and I spent on skiing this weekend. Our progressive-thinking health insurance company reimburses its members the cost of staying active. They even pay for lift tickets to any mountain. So we took advantage this weekend. After babysitting plans fell through, we decided to go to Nashoba Valley as a family (and have Will watch). But when he didn't seem up for an adventure, we reorganized. Laura went on Saturday and I went on Sunday. Just a few hours each to a small ski hill just up the road. The best free skiing/snowboarding ever!

$4. Girl Scout cookies - the thin mint kind Laura likes. It's surprising the things you forget you've committed to. I signed up for a box of cookies from a coworker's kid in January. But they arrived this month. Do commitments you made earlier (to Flickr, to the Girl Scouts) count as discretionary spending now? To us it feels like to live up to our challenge we just have to avoid making any new commitments this month - but maybe we're bending the rules?

$2. The amount Laura wanted to spend on a Slushie at the mall, but didn't. Mmmm, Slushies...

$30. Why are baby shoes so freakin' expensive? We've tried to get away with consignment shoes for Will. But a doctor told us last week that he needed proper, stable shoes for his feet to develop right. The new ones we got at Stride Rite were originally $49 marked down to $30. For shoes he'll outgrow in two months! This doesn't count as discretionary spending, though, because it's not something we wanted to buy.

$0. The amount we spent on Valentine's Day. Even if we weren't doing The Fast this month, we probably wouldn't have spent much more. Which doesn't mean we ignore the holiday. I made Laura a slideshow of pictures of us going back 10 years. And she and Will colored me a homemade valentine. In fact, it was one of our best Valentine's Days ever.

-b

He's a looker

2010-02-12T08:21:00.037-05:00

After about a year of denial, I'm raising the white flag. I've lost this battle. But that's probably a good thing.

My son looks nothing like me. And I'm OK with that (Correction, I'm becoming OK with that). For a while I was hoping he would morph into his dad. I guess I'm a sucker for genealogical traditions.

There are clear similarities in pictures of me, my dad, and grandfather. And we all share the same name.

But just as Laura turned down the idea of a Robert IV, so too will the passing of physical features end. It's time for a new era, Laura says. And I know she's right. Will clearly carries some of my Leprechaun ancestral genes: red hair, blue eyes, pale skin, but the last is really the only feature we share.

It took some Photoshop magic for me to admit the reality (seeing our baby pictures lined up), and I admit it's an ongoing adjustment for me. But one thing makes a lot of sense: Good for Will for inheriting his mother's good looks!

I know he'll be his own person, but it wouldn't be bad for him to inherit a few of his mom's other traits...

For instance, I hope he gets her zest for learning. Laura's always learning a new skill, whether it's baking or sewing or skiing or playing the guitar. And she'd read 10 hours a day if she could.

I hope he has her desire for high achievement. Legend has it Laura got only one B from Kindergarten through grad school.

I hope he carries her love of the outdoors. We have spirited debates: Mountains vs. The Ocean.

I hope he gets her drive to be fit. Laura is dedicated to not becoming an inactive couch potato American. She doesn't believe in diets; she believes in a healthy lifestyle.

I hope he follows her thrifty values. Laura's one of those people who saves up her change to buy something special.

I hope he gets her urge to be unplugged from technology. He'll probably be a hologram when he's our age, but I hope, like his mom, that he'll often turn off his gadgets and think.

I hope he inherits her loyalty. Laura is devoted to her family. I can't think of an example of something she wouldn't do for them.

I hope he carries on his mom's love of the arts: theater, visuals, music. His mother's knowledge of obscure Nirvana songs brought his parents together.

I hope he has his mother's love of home: his house, his hometown, his home state. Laura's been to more countries than I have (and I hope Will goes abroad often too), but there's no place like home.

I hope he inherits his mom's dancing skills. Dancing makes everything better.

I hope he gets her crafty kindness: I have a shoe box full of the best homemade birthday and Valentine's cards ever created.

In fact, if he's nothing like me, I'll be perfectly happy with that, as long as he realizes looks aren't everything.

-b

Only Jedis can predict the future

2010-02-11T08:24:00.053-05:00

It's weeks like this when Obi Wan Kenobi's voice echoes in my head.

"Who's the more foolish, the fool or the fool who follows him?"

This week we have a convergence of foolishness in Massachusetts. The worst predictors of the future - sports pundits and meteorologists - showed us why they can't be trusted.

***

On Saturday, the eve of the Super Bowl, a Boston Globe columnist made the dubious claim that Peyton Manning is better the Tom Brady. You'd think the writer would have learned to be more measured after declaring the Sox chances of advancing in the 2004 playoffs zero after they fell behind 0-3 against the Yankees.

Well, Manning lost the Super Bowl, probably because Will wore his lucky Brady jersey during the game. And the pundit was forced to eat his words in a follow up column. I only wish he offered a similar mea culpa after the Sox won the World Series.

Brady is like the King Aurthur of New England. They should carve his profile into the side of Mt. Greylock and rename a town after him (maybe Bradytown for Belchertown). You just don't say Manning is better. It's worse than saying Curt Schilling is a Yankees fan. Curt broke The Curse, but he's no Brady.

***

Then we have the nor'easter that never was. Because of the predictions of local meteorologists, Bay Staters were scrambling to prepare for an evening commute nightmare. I even stopped at the hardware store on the way to work to buy a few sandbags for the trunk of the Echo (this go-cart of a car is the worst in the snow).

Facebook updates from my alma mater - via Fox 6 Springfield - were on Tuesday at 5 p.m. telling me to get ready for a big storm. By Wednesday at 5 p.m., the map totals had changed, but the college, like most other schools, had already canceled classes.

On Monday, WBZ-TV offered this on their blog:

Get ready for our first big snowfall in over a month! It's been since the first few days of the new decade that we saw more than 6" of snow ... our time has come.

By early Wednesday morning, they were still predicting a big storm:

Everything still looks good for a lot of snow Boston to Worcester, south and east.

By Wednesday afternoon, they were changing their tune:

The storm looks more like a "stormlet" not a major storm any longer.

Right, WBZ-TV had finally done what the rest of us had: looked out the window and realized there was hardly a dusting of snow.

***

I don't mean to pick on the Globe or WBZ-TV. It's really pretty much all meteorologists and sports commentators that lack credibility. (Wait, weren't political prognosticators predicting an losses for Barack Obama and Scott Brown? And the financial gurus who said housing prices would go up forever? Add them all to the list.) They're all just modern day soothsayers trying to make a buck with provocative predictions about what will happen tomorrow.

We'd be better off watching Wookies play baseball and Ewoks predict the weather. Help us live in the now Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're our only hope.

-b

Day 10: Discretionary Spending Fast

2010-02-10T09:14:00.003-05:00

Ten days in, here is where the February Discretionary Spending Fast stands...

$0. The amount of discretionary spending Laura and I have used so far in February.

75 cents. The amount of discretionary spending I saved mixing water with the small amount of apple juice I had left in the office refrigerator instead of buying a vending machine drink for lunch.

$9. The amount we wanted to spend on a giant bag of apples at Honey Pot Hill Orchards to make more applesauce. Because it was food, this was a borderline call. But we decided to hold the line.

$0. The amount of extra spending we used for dinner when my sister and niece visited the other day. We used the groceries we already had for homemade pizza (and made a gigantic, delicious mess).

$2.75. The amount we saved not buying a snicker doodle cookie like the one we saw a little girl walking around with at the Wayland Farmers Market. Instead, Laura made a whole batch when we got home. And they were quite tasty.

$2. The amount I saved not checking my coat at the annual NENPA convention dinner last weekend. Keeping it classy as usual.

$19. The amount I would like to spend renewing my Rolling Stone subscription (guilty pleasure). They keep sending me nasty notices reminding me of my deadbeat subscriber status, but this one will have to wait.

Also, we made an executive decision that tithing doesn't count as discretionary spending and is exempt from The Fast. Church is a nonprofit institution, and charitable giving - along with regular bills and emergencies - is allowed for February.

-b

It don't matter if they're black or white

2010-02-06T09:48:00.019-05:00

Time for a confession: I wear white gloves in the winter.

It's the kind of thing you want to hide, like pimples or sock hands or bad tattoos. You know, embarrassing stuff.

I've been catching double takes from co-workers over the past month. To avoid quizzing looks I try not to wear said digit warmers inside, but more often I forget that my gloves should be discreetly revealed.

It's not paranoia. The other day, as I walked through the office before I'd taken my winter garb off, a colleague blurted out: "There's something off-putting about white gloves, don't you think?"

Finally. Someone had said it. It was time to talk so that everyone could settle down and be comfortable with my idiosyncrasy.

"What do you think about my white gloves?" I asked a sports editor, looking for some support. "Looks like you should be directing traffic," he replied.

They didn't bite when I offered my rationale.

Only Mickey Mouse, Bugs Bunny, and Michael Jackson wear white gloves. "Which one of those character's does Bobb think he is?"

Truth is, some very tough people wear white gloves: Fishermen. You know, the guys heading out to sea from Gloucester and Menemsha and Chatham Harbor in the middle of the winter to make sure landlubbers like you and me have tasty seafood even in frickin freezing February.

Before my father retired, he was also very tough. He was a lineman for a phone company for decades. You know, the guys who climb telephone polls in the middle of blizzards to make sure our phones work to call for pizza and order As Seen On TV Giant Cupcake molds.

To keep from freezing straight through during Massachusetts winters my dad wore several layers of flannels, long underwear, a giant beard, and, yes, white fishermen's gloves. He'd discovered them during his travels fixing phones along the seaport towns of Cape Cod.

Clearly I'm not tough enough to pull off white gloves. I don't fish for cod off the Cape, nor do I know the first thing about fishing beyond the 10-gallon tank I once owned. I don't fix phone lines dozens of feet below the ground. I don't train the Afghan army (those Green Berets are so tough they're allowed to grow beards).

But I do prefer my gloves to be thin so I can tie my shoes in the cold if I have to. Or so I can manage my pencil if I'm covering a winter story for the newspaper. And for similar not very tough reasons.

The problem is, every time I get my hands on some thin/warm black gloves I lose them. Last winter, I bought some winter ski gloves at EMS just to use the removable black liners as every day gloves. But I lost one several weeks ago.

And whenever I lose my normal gloves I revert to the white anglers' gloves. I have about 20 pairs. Wait, what? About 10 years ago, my dad heard me raving about how excellent his were: thin, warm, decent grip. While other 20-year-olds were getting iPods and Xboxes for Christmas, my dad got me a big ball of white fishermen's gloves. To this day, Laura shakes her head over this, but it was the most thoughtful gift he ever got me.

So if you're not tough enough to pull off white winter gloves, what do you do next? Buy new black gloves? Just so I can lose them? No, I think from now on I'll just do what Mickey Mouse, Bugs Bunny, and Michael Jackson did: Wear them with confidence and sing their praises.

-b

Day 3: Discretionary Spending Fast

2010-02-03T15:15:00.008-05:00

Three days in, here is where the February Discretionary Spending Fast stands...

$0. The amount of discretionary spending Laura and I have used in February.

$11.55. The amount of discretionary spending we used at the 11th hour on Jan. 31 when we won an eBay bid we forgot about on 36 pieces of vintage 1980s 2T rompers and overalls. (We enjoy dressing our kid up like an extra on the Cosby show.)

$10. The amount of discretionary spending I would like to spend this week taking a colleague out for a congratulatory beer for a big promotion. But that will have to wait until after The Fast.

$2. The amount of money I got in a swag bag from a Chamber of Commerce dinner the other night. (Pop quiz: who is on the two dollar bill?)

$0. The amount of discretionary spending I used on my usual Tuesday night pizza slices (my late night at work). I brought left over Chinese (from Jan. 30) instead.

$3. The amount of discretionary money we will save in February with a swag coupon to sharpen the family's sharp knife. Currently, our family's sharp knife is duller than Martha Coakley's recent Senate campaign.

-b

PS: Jefferson is on the two dollar bill, which he may be annoyed by considering no one uses two dollar bills. But I would remind him a worse place to be is on the 2007 presidential dollar coin, where Massachusetts' own John Adams resides and where only collectors would see him.

Tips for surviving the first year of parenthood

2010-02-02T06:34:00.024-05:00

Our sweet baby Will just celebrated his first birthday. While we're not experts on parenting, if you're expecting your first child, here is our Top Ten Tips of Parenthood: The First Year.

1) There are two ways to fall in love: at first sight and over time. The same is true when you meet your baby. Laura fell in love with Will the second she saw him. I had to get to know him.

2) Once you fall in love with your new baby, remember who your Number 1 in life is. The pastor who married Laura and I told us about this and he was right. You must take care of your relationship with your partner if your child is to have a stable home.

3) In those first weeks, the generosity of strangers dumbfounded us. One note came with a gift from a friend of a friend and offered this advice: "Let your house get messy. A clean house is not as important as it once was." So true.

4) Sing as often as possible - even if you can't. We're convinced that since cavemen days parents have sung to their kids. It's natural. It's spiritual. It connects you and comforts the baby in ways we can't understand. Your baby doesn't care if you deserve a microphone or muzzle.

5) Get out. Of the house that is. Entertaining a baby is harder than manual labor. Preventing it from crying and protecting it from accidents uses every ounce of your life force. Taking the baby out (for a walk, to the hardware store, to the aquarium in Boston, to Petco just to look around) is like babysitting in warp speed. They love to look and learn.

6) Feel free to declare your baby a genius - especially in the privacy of your own home. Laura and I now understand what those honor roll bumper stickers on minivans are all about. You'll never be more proud than seeing your baby learn new skills; it's like witnessing minor miracles.

7) Do your best to offer healthy eats, but don't stress out about it. While trying to provide our little guy with good food, we realized babies are the most fickle and picky eaters ever. So present them with organic yogurt if you want. But have some mac & cheese ready as a back up.

8) Let go of your hobbies and interests for the first year. There's really not much time for them, and you'll probably be too tired anyway. Sleep training helps, and by the time they're mobile, you'll get some of your time back.

9) Go with your gut. Being a new parent can be overwhelming, and advice from friends, family, classes, and books can help. But humans are pre-programmed to raise children. More often than not, your instincts will show you the way. And remember, far dumber people (hello, Britney Spears) have figured parenthood out.

10) Tell your baby you love him or her as often as possible. Don't take anything for granted, and make the most of every day you have together. Parenthood is a precious gift; be thankful for it and have as much fun as possible.

-b

Day 1: The Discretionary Spending Fast

2010-02-01T05:20:00.004-05:00

One man. One woman. One red-haired one-year-old. The scene: A Massachusetts condo. The plot: One family sees if it's possible to not spend a single dollar in a month.

Sounds like a gripping reality TV show to me.

That's what we're up to for the next 28 days. Not sure if it's going to be possible, but we're going to give it our best shot.

We spent the month since coming up with the idea working out our ground rules and preparing for our Discretionary Spending Fast. Some people give up chocolate for Lent. We're giving up money for February.

Our rules:

- Groceries and other necessities (like gasoline, regular bills, and broken cars) are exempt from The Fast.
- Included in The Fast: No cash or credit card spending on anything extra. No eating out, grabbing a Dunkin Donuts coffee, getting new iTunes music, buying clothes, or spending money on things to do.
- Gift cards are OK to spend.

Over the next month, we'll chronicle the dilemmas we run into. Tithing? Maybe we could volunteer at church instead this month. Donations? It seems that a portion of the money we save should go to others in need.

To prepare for The Fast we went wild and got Chinese food this past weekend (Laura claims it's the last time she will ever eat Chinese food). And yesterday we went to a cool baby hang out center in Northborough where Will could frolic without freezing his sock hands off. Those kind of expenses will now have to wait until March - unless we can figure out free alternatives.

At first, the Discretionary Spending Fast seemed like just a fun challenge. Something to force us to get creative and to compensate for Christmastime overspending. But after looking at our finances last weekend, I discovered we are, for the first time in years, actually out of discretionary cash. The holidays and Will's birthday and a broken furnace have wiped us out. Plus all those little things - like Giant Cupcakes and psychedelic watermelon radishes - truly add up.

So while our savings remain, we need at least a month of no spending to get back on track with discretionary allotments. And perhaps February will teach us how to be more thrifty so we don't get stuck with empty pockets again.

The other point for us is to remember that billions of people on earth are forced to get by on a fraction of what we have as middle class American folk. Our silly challenge won't get us close to walking in the shoes of Haitians or Kenyans or the slumdogs of India or even the millions of Americans who have lost their life savings and homes in the Great Recession.

But if reining in our excesses puts us in a better place to help others, The Fast will be a true success story and perhaps an annual family tradition.

-b

Want to save some dough? Try using pizza dough

2010-01-27T11:09:00.007-05:00

There's a saying: Do one thing well. When it comes to cooking, that certainly applies to me.

Pizza is not only my specialty, it's the only thing I can cook.

I've been making pizzas since 1994. It all began when I got a job hawking newspapers at Bayberry's, a now closed log cabin restaurant in my hometown. When I turned 15 and was old enough to get a job, the manager invited me inside to wash dishes.

And I believe I still hold the title as the Best Bayberry's Dishwasher Ever (Self Declared). Because if you're going to do something, even as disgusting as cleaning up other people's left over slop, you might as well do it well.

Since I was the fastest dishwasher east of the Cape Cod Canal I was promoted to pizza maker.

A Brazilian man named Ernicio taught me the ropes. I still hear his voice in my head every time I cut a cooked pizza pie: "Roberto, never come back with the pizza slicer. Always one way only." I'm not sure why, but I still cut it his way.

I prepped the ingredients, managed the station, manned the oven (usually with a few burns a night), and improved my craft. Later I was promoted to a line cook on the breakfast shift where I learned the only other cooking skills I know: making toast, omelets, and poached eggs.

But pizza was my passion. To make some extra money in high school, I ended up working for a hip pizza joint called Sweet Tomatoes during the latter part of high school. There I learned the art of pizza making and the joy of cooking and eating gourmet pizza.

I'd say nowadays my pizzas reflect a combination of the styles and flavors of both places I worked.

In the past year, Laura and I have tried to balance the challenges of being two full-time working parents. And Laura needed some breaks from cooking. I tried cooking other stuff, but I somehow found ways to ruin even simple things like baked chicken and mac & cheese.

It became clear that I should go back to what I knew: pizza. Since we're wiped out to the point of not being able to make simple decisions by Friday nights and since we choose not to have as much discretionary spending as we did pre-baby, we decided that Friday would be homemade pizza night in our household for the foreseeable future.

So each Friday night, I try to perfect my home-cooked pizzas. It took a few months just to figure out how to make them crispy like they were using brick ovens at the restaurants. Anyway, here's the recipe for success if you'd like to save some dough while dining on delicious homemade za.

1) Get yourself a pizza stone. That's how to get your pizza crispy.
2) Put the pizza stone in the oven while it preheats. You want it nice and hot before your pizza gets to it.
3) Preheat the oven to about 450 degrees. Pizzas should cook pretty fast.
4) Pull out your fresh supermarket ball of dough. Stretch it out by flattening it into some flour and then spin it into a circle (this part takes practice).
5) Put your flat, circular pie dough on a pizza peel sprinkled with corn meal.
6) We usually use half of a 14-ounce can of pizza sauce - works out to be one ladle full for me.
7) Sprinkle some minced garlic on the sauce and add spinach or basil leaves if you've got them.
8) If you've got a few tomatoes, either canned or fresh from your garden, plop a few thumb sized pieces across the sauce.
9) Sprinkle your cheese evenly trying to avoid the crust. We use the bagged mozzarella from the store.
10) Add your favorite toppings. We like fresh veggies, especially from local farms, and usually make a few slices have pepperoni (for Laura), and a few be Hawaiian (for me). Chicken and broccoli is a mutual favorite around here. But essentially we'll put anything we can find in the fridge on there - we even tried turkey after Thanksgiving.
11) Top it off with some feta cheese and a pinch of oregano.
12) Slide your pizza off the peel and onto the hot stone in the oven. And in 10 minutes or so, spinning once or twice, your pie should be ready for devouring.

The other perk of not ordering out? Homemade pizza actually makes you feel like you've eaten something healthier. Bon appetit!

-b

PS: If you like the Northampton-created Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and pizza, you should watch this:

We're with Coco

2010-01-24T20:42:00.003-05:00

Brookline native Conan O'Brien wrapped up his short stint doing his dream job Friday night, a feeling some of us can relate to. While he's always been on too late for Laura and I to watch regularly, especially now as parents, we've always thought he was the best late night comedian - for his ridiculous antics and for his support of up and coming bands.

Just before he joined Boston Marathon runner Will Ferrell for a final Free Bird send off, he pleaded with his young viewers to avoid cynicism and said, "Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen." Right on Conan. Right on.

-b