Tag Archives: Fall

Ally vs Months 9, 10, 11

Dear Ally-

I once either read, or heard, a story about a man attempting to read every edition of the New York Times cover-to-cover. In 2004, he was reading about an unknown governor from Arkansas launching a presidential bid. I just tried to Google it and couldn’t find anything so perhaps it’s apocryphal, but that feeling of slowly slipping inexorably, almost unwittingly, into the past is real. Just ask any forty year-old their favorite band.

It’s also how I’ve felt writing these posts lately. You turned one this week and I’m still attempting to recollect what happened in September. Let’s make a deal. You can go on unchaperoned dates when you’re twenty-five and I’ll try to live and write more in the moment, get those memories out while they are still hot and crispy. Deal? Ok, good.Let’s fast forward three months and catch up with our lives.

Previously in the life of Allison Eileen:

all_septA mostly quiet month for everyone. You had your nine-month check-up and everything was deemed in working order and you hadn’t lost any fingers and toes so you were given back to us for three more months.

We spent Labor Day with one last trip to the Cape and you delighted in tormenting three dogs instead of just one. You also discovered the glorious taste of Brewster sand. Handfuls and handfuls of it. Nothing like sediment to scrub the colon and test the integrity of those promises on diaper boxes.

 

ally_octYou took your first trip to Honey Pot Hill and had a grand time gnawing a meandering track around a single apple for almost two hours. Best money we spent all month. You staunchly did not like your first taste of applesauce. If I had to rank things you don’t like, I’d put being strapped into your car seat, number one, sitting genteelly on someone’s lap number two, and crock pot applesauce number three. Your mother is taking the last one personally.

I could probably put your Halloween costume fourth, at least the top portion. You always find great indignity in wearing hats, so having a costume that included a honey pot lid as a key ingredient was going to be a stretch. Sure, enough, it didn’t last long. If your Pop Pop was in charge of pictures, he’d still be trying to focus and get a clean shot.

 

ally_novIt was feast or famine in November. The month began with the return of the day care plague! Another round of extreme dieting for everyone by not being able to keep anything down for two days.You do seem to be more susceptible to these stomach bugs than your sister and since you can’t yet talk, we are totally laying all the blame for these on you.

On a more positive note, you started exploring joining the rest of us by walking on two feet this month. You are not quite there yet, but definitely before Christmas. This doesn’t bode well for the lower half of the Christmas tree.

The last part of the month was spent cruising down the Mid-Atlantic corridor to visit your cousins for Thanksgivingukkah. (You passed on the applesauce). Despite my extreme reservations about traffic and spending 16 hours in a confined space with you and your sister, things went off without a hitch. No Benadryl or bourbon was needed. Let’s channel those thoughts for our big trip in February.

Love,

Dad

Sisters vs. Halloween

If I learned anything in the last four years it’s that Halloween typically ends in sugar, frustration and bourbon. This year we can probably add streaks of Ariel-red hair spray on the sheets and furniture.

We tried to get ahead of the demons that are sure to occupy our children by this tomorrow night and get a few decent pictures of Hallween prep and pageantry for posterity.

Cost basis on the honey pot costume keeps getting lower!

Ce vs. Edaville

There are many litmus tests for discovering a native Southern New Englander, like a Masonic password, you just need to whisper the word and you have an instant connection with a stranger. Del’s, coffee milk, Rocky Point, the lingering memories of white knuckle crossings of the old Jamestown Bridge. Take your pick. I’m sure every part of the country has similar nooks and crannies of curious Americana that interstates mostly bypass these days.

Well, who are we to deny Cecilia a chance at experiencing a railroad themed amusement park carved out of a working cranberry bog located in the backwoods of suburban Carver, Massachusetts. We’re not! So, in late October, during the cranberry harvest we headed south for an afternoon of Ferris wheels, merry-go-rounds and bumper cars at Edaville Railroad. Check it:

All Aboard from Mike Donohue on Vimeo.

In all seriousness, this is a great little place to kill a Saturday afternoon. Small enough to tire them out, but not so big that you can’t cover it all in three hours. Reasonable prices with one of the (abundant) coupons, too. If you’ve never been, it’s worth a trip. I’d recommend packing your own food. They have ample food kiosks, but none that I’d like to risk my colon on again.

Ce vs. Apple Picking

A few weeks ago, before Sandy, before the snow, back when we were only being assaulted by by Scott Brown and Elizabeth Warren ads, we decided we needed to renew our New England membership card before winter hit. On a crisp Saturday, with carpet of yellow and red leaves waiting to be raked, we headed out to pick some apples.

We met some friends at Honey Pot Hill in Stow and had ourselves a nice, little Norman Rockwell day. We ate cider donuts, we picked way too many apples, we decided on a pumpkin and we successfully kept the kids from climbing into the pig pens. A successful day any way you look at it!

 

Pickin’ from Mike Donohue on Vimeo.

Ce vs. Cider Donuts

Not a lot words needed to explain this one. I’ll let the pictures do the talking. This year we introduced Ce to the universe’s little fall goodie bag before it dumps a wet blanket of snow on us for four months: cider donuts and caramel apples. I think she would also add tractors in her personal top five as well. She really liked the tractor.

Donuts, apples and tractors courtesy of Honey Pot Hill Orchards in Stow, MA. Really good cider donuts. Every place in New England has ’em in the fall, but it’s harder than it looks to do it well. Small, light, warm and not greasy. These are done well. Cecilia would agree.