Sloan's New York Grill

I have to be honest.  When my wife and I entered the building we expected to see the same thing one generally finds when someone opens a new restaurant in a former steakhouse; the same old steak house with a redesigned menu.  However, that is far from what we discovered.


Located in Oneonta, NY in the former Ponderosa Steak House, Sloan's New York Grill is an elegant, cozy space with a stone fireplace and a full bar for those who wish to indulge.  The menu features natural, local meats that are also available to purchase by the pound from their meat counter.   At first it looked slightly pricey, but with sandwiches ranging from $8 to $11 including side dishes, it was affordable enough for a couple on a budget who want a quiet, intimate lunch.

I enjoyed the pulled chicken barbecue sandwich with curly fries and two of their specialty house pickles.  The chicken was lightly pulled - chunky rather than shredded - and slathered in a delicious sauce that was slightly more spicy than sweet.  The curly fries were well seasoned thin wisps of potato that were fried to perfection. The pickles?  Mild and sweet with a slight kick at the end.

My wife ordered a sandwich with deli turkey, provolone and bacon, drizzled with peppercorn ranch dressing.  The sandwich was so good she wants to learn how to make them at home!  Her soup (tomato basil) was creamy and sweet.  

The staff wore black t-shirts and jeans, reflecting the casual, simple lifestyle of upstate New York. Our server Rachel was friendly and attentive, making sure we were satisfied with everything.   She was professional and well trained, explaining the specials and answering all our questions about the menu.

A great experience!

I sing.

I sing.  That's what I do.  I'm not a rock star or an opera divo.  I sing - that's it.  That's what I do.

So ... like ... you play the guitar and sing and stuff?

No.  No guitar, no stuff.  I sing.

You play keyboards and sing and stuff?

No keyboard.  I sing.

So .... what are you, like a songwriter or something?

No.

Well, what do you do?

I, um, sing.  You know ... sing?  As in ... singing?

You mean you don't do anything?  You just ... sing?

Yes.

Oh.  

Yeah. 

I sing.

I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me. (Psalm 13:6)

Praise the Lord! For it is good to sing praises to our God; for it is pleasant, and a song of praise is fitting. (Psalm 147:1)

I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being.(Psalm 104:33)

An Angry Bird By Any Other Name

It was a day full of surprises.  A dear friend and colleague showed up bearing gifts at our door - groceries of all things - and a fun activity for this rainy day.  She couldn't have shown up at a better time, as three of our children invited friends over and it was raining cats and dogs.  We needed something interesting to do.

She brought with her a bevy of wool in a rainbow of colors.  She brought needles and sponges for us to use.  She brought examples of her work for us to see.  Then she started us on our family needle felting adventure.

It was a blast!  My wife and I, along with our children and their friends made felt animals, birds, flowers and butterflies.  I had a very interesting project of my own.  It started out as an "angry bird" flamingo (I have a thing about flamingos). 

It looked like this before I stuck on it's nose.

Then I turned it upside down and realized it wasn't an angry bird after all.  Rather, it was a cross between Pat Morita and Danny DeVito. 

And with that, my artwork was complete.

It is said that, when sculpting wood or stone, that the material communicates to the artist what shape it will take.  I guess this proves it.

Is There A Target On My Back?

I don't normally talk about my dreams.  I dream in vivid detail about people and places, hopes and desires, frustrations and losses. Many of these are recurring themes that are best kept to myself.

However, there is one that I've been having recently, that I cannot figure out.  Here's how it goes ....

First, let me explain that there isn't a lot of action here.  It's more of an atmosphere, really.

There is a miniature golf green running the length of my childhood backyard.  Behind the hole is the front door from the house (large wooden door with beveled glass).

Sometimes there are people gathered around, sometimes it's just me.

There aren't any other things that would denote the area as that particular backyard, yet I know it's our backyard.

Last night in the midst of this dream a target appeared behind me as I was ready to putt my golf ball.  A familiar person was there with a crossbow, shooting arrows at the target and saying, "Relax. I'm not gonna hit you." 

I don't know what it means.  And even though it's pretty tame, it's just plain weird, and it keeps coming back.  

Hmmmmm .......

Come On, Elizabeth! It's Time For Church!

God called my mother home yesterday morning.  It was Sunday around 10:00 AM, the time she would have gone to church to prepare an array of organ music for Sunday morning services. When I was young, Dad would often call up the stairs, "Come on, Elizabeth.  It's time for church!"

DECISIONS, DECISIONS ...

We all knew Mom had mere weeks left on Earth, and that she would soon join Dad in Heaven.  As our annual vacation was coming up, we made the difficult decision to proceed with our plans for a week at the beach.  Mom had slightly different plans.  In the middle of the week, I received a call that Mom was in distress.

Another difficult decision ... What to do???

FLASHBACK TO 1979 ...

My grandmother (Nana) was in a nursing facility and had been ill for a few days.  My parents made the difficult decision to proceed with our vacation plans, and we went to Atlantic City.  Nana died while we were away, and we returned home immediately.  By the time we arrived, almost all the funeral arrangements were made, with a few exceptions.  Mom told me on more than one occasion that she regretted not letting me swim in the ocean one more time before we returned home.

FAST-FORWARD TO PRESENT ...


The next day she was still in distress, no change in her condition.  What would Mom and Dad do?  Time for another difficult decision.  We decided to let the kids swim for one more day, and go to the boardwalk one more night.

A late night text from my sister revealed that Mom may be holding on, waiting for someone. Maybe me.  Hmmmm ... We were heading home the next morning.  I could only pray that we arrived in time.

The next morning we arrived by Mom's bedside.  She slept the entire time while we visited with her, my brother, sister, spouses and kids.  As we left, I kissed Mom's forehead and said, "Go plant your garden.  We're all okay here,  It's alright if you want to go."

She held on.  She was waiting for something else.  Something none of us could fathom.  Something only she knew in her heart.

The next day was Sunday.  We awoke and ate breakfast and lounged around my in-laws' house, exhausted from our vacation, from the trip home, and from a long night a Mom's bedside.  Then the phone rang.

"Tommy?"
"Yes," I said.
"Mom died." My sister's words were emotional, but with a hint of relief, as we both knew Mom was finally happy.
"What time did she die?"
"They just called me.  She died a few minutes ago, a little before 10:00."

I think it suddenly dawned on us.  Mom wasn't waiting for any of us.  She was waiting for Dad to yell, "Come on, Elizabeth!  It's time for church!"

Yesterday morning, while we all mourned, Mom went to church with her husband for the first time in many years.  She and Dad are celebrating and praising God with glorious, pain free, heavenly bodies today and every day forevermore.

Mom's death is not a sad occasion.  She had been ill, living a tormented life in a tiny, frail body for far too long.  Her transition to Heaven is a celebration of her new life with all those who have gone before her.

But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself. 

 - Philippians 3:20-21

Happy Kids Day!!

Today is my Mom's birthday.  She's 81. This most likely will be her final birthday here on Earth, as she is ill and the doctors have indicated that she has only weeks left to live.  I was feeling very sad because I was not able to be there today to sing "Happy Birthday" to her (we did get to visit and sing to her a few days ago).  Sad that is, until my 8 year old son declared today "Happy Kids Day." 


He didn't realize it was his grandmother's birthday nor that I was feeling sad.  He only knew it had been a while since we celebrated something, and he decided to create something new.  "Happy Kids Day."

Today we ate pizza for breakfast and for lunch.  We also went swimming and had cheeseburgers and pickled eggs for supper.  We played video games and watched some kid-friendly TV. 

It's a perfect holiday for this day, because their Nana was always going above and beyond for her grandchildren.  Anything the kids wanted ... *POOF* ... there it was.

If they wanted ice cream ... No problem.
If they wanted to go to the playground all day ... No problem.
If they wanted to sit around and watch cartoons ... No problem.

Anything was possible when they were at Nana's house.

So, in honor of my mother, I think we will keep this new holiday tradition.

Happy Kids Day!!

This is the Government I Want

Of all the pictures and scans of the Declaration of Independence, this one is my favorite.  I like it much more than the pristine, finished copy that all the fathers signed so long ago.

I love that it shows the mistakes and the lines that are crossed out.

I love the arrows and phrases that are circled.

I love the stuff written in the margins, and the bold faced words that must be more important than other words.

I love that the handwriting belongs to several people.

Most of all, I love that it shows the sweat that went into the document, and subsequently the nation, to which this document gave birth.  The men who sat in a hot, sweaty room in Philly and argued over details - details that were scribbled onto the working document - are represented in this document, not so much in the finished, polished, signed one.

This is what I want my government to look like. I want them to lock down in a room and work TOGETHER, even though they disagree, and come out with something that is actually for the common good, instead of something that lines the pockets of campaign contributors.

The writers of the Declaration of Independence knew that they would likely die for their contributions, yet they were brave enough to write it and sign it.

Are there any as brave today?