The Outfield

I took this picture at Shea Stadium yesterday at the Mets game vs. the Reds. The lines on the grass caught my eye, as did the lonely outfielders. Even though we were short a few of the normal ticket holders, it turned out to be a great game. Weather was perfect, Chipotle for lunch, two beers at the game, and a victory.

Pesto

Pesto is a fragrant sauce made from fresh basil, olive oil, pine nuts, graded cheese and garlic. It originates in Genoa, Italy (way the heck up north). I have only really had pesto at JDF's house and with my vegetarian co-workers (all freshly made). In addition, when I was in northern Italy last summer, I had to have some. I made pesto from 5 cups of basil for mother's day and took some back with me to share and make other meals.

This is the beginning of the pesto process. Since I was the main chef for 8 adults and 3 little turds, I set the kitchen up like my Food Network counterparts (use every bowl and drink along the way).
Once the pesto was mixed and ready, I placed it in this tupperware for safe keeping. It wasn't long before my father's finger was dipping in there, the kids called it slime, and Joe Ribods said, "it's Sunday, why isn't the gravy red?" This is no Rachel Ray 30-Minute meal, more like the Barefoot Contessa. Enter: Second glass of wine.

Once the salad was made, the vegetables were grilled and the steaks pretty much done...I drained the ziti and mixed in the pesto in a serving bowl (shown above). It turned out to be a hit among the natives, although only 1 out of 3 kids ate it.

I managed to take back about 1/2 cup of left over pesto to my apartment. I split lunch Monday with Iz, then tonight I threw some stuff together. I took a filleted chicken breast and rubbed it with pesto. Then I cooked in a white wine sauce with red pepper flakes. Finally, I added crimini mushrooms and garlic. The chicken was served beside some spaghetti with pesto. YUM.

Chicken Parm

I know many of you think of chicken parmigiana as the quintessential Italian meal composing of a breaded chicken cutlet, mozzarella cheese, tomato sauce and possibly served over spaghetti. But once you step out of the world of all you-can-eat salad and bread sticks at Olive Garden and into one of the kitchens (upstairs or downstairs) of real Italians, you will see a totally different culinary experience.

Though parmigiana means literally, "from Parma" (a town in Italy), the name derives from parmiggiana, a Sicilian recipe made with fried eggplant, tomato sauce and mozzarella. Believe it or not, in my two trips to the mother-land, I did not see chicken parm on the menu once. And to be completely honest, it was a rare day if we ever had it for dinner growing up in the Ribods house or any Italian household (even Bananas' house).

Tonight's dinner with Sunday's gravy. Breaded chicken cutlet, gravy, fresh mozzarella cheese and fresh basil with a side of pasta (freshly grated pecorino romano).

In order to have chicken parm for dinner, the following had to occur:
- Mama Ribods would have to fillet, bread, and fry about 8-10 pounds of chicken breasts for dinner. No Italian actually fillets, breads, fries and then makes the parm all in one night. Not worth all those pans.
- There would have to be left over cutlets after we all got through them. On a typical night about 15 cutlets might be remaining. Generous estimate.
- My mother would cut 2-3 cutlets for me into squares for lunch until I graduated high school. Joe Ribods would eat one for breakfast on the way to school. When we got home from school, we would snack on more cutlets. At this point, there would be no more left.
- On the very rare occasion that Joe Ribods didn't take 20+ cutlets to the face in 48 hours and Mama Ribods didn't feel like cooking, she would make some chicken parm with the leftover cutlets. On any given day you will find a bowl of Sunday gravy and a ball of fresh mozzarella cheese in the fridge downstairs. In the upstairs kitchen you will find the frozen reserve gravy. She would throw the cutlets on a pan, spoon some gravy on the chicken, put some cheese and basil on top....then bake for 20 minutes.

Please be aware that Joe Ribods stops by the house from work to take some cutlets "to go."

Afternoon Wine

Carol & Ashlee (aka: Smashlee)

Even though we got about 6 inches of snow yesterday, last weekend marked the first slightly warm, nice weekend. I spent the morning at Saturday Morning Math Academy with students and the math department at school. It was quite fun. Later on that day we all went to Flavia's baby shower on the East side. Ashlee, Iz and I had time to kill, so we went to Republic for a glass of wine in Union Square.

Iz, Kara, Ribods and Carol all on the sauce.

Once we got to the restaurant where the shower was being held, we laughed, we drank, and we ate. My three favorite things to do. I realized that one of my new favorite things to do is drink white wine in the middle of the day. We were seated at a table close to the door and this gave us more reason to have more fun. We were completely removed from the rest of the guests. We took advantage of our table real estate and had the Saturday afternoon of our lives. Below is a picture of Iz and Cat.

Back in the Swing of Things

So a week ago this time I was just leaving the beach and heading back to my room to get ready for dinner with mom and dad Ribods on St. John in the Caribbean. I see that a few of you have been checking everyday probably waiting for my posting on this "magical" trip (as Bananas would say). Since being in St. John, I have returned back to the quick-witted city of New York, wearing closed-toe shoes, and wondering where my parents are going next. For one reason or another, I have not posted. On the other hand, I feel I need to though.

beach view

So here are the highlights of this trip:

- To start the trip off, I was on the maiden voyage to St. Thomas, non-stop, on Delta from JFK. This meant something special (a free neck pillow)...a plane full of kids, 2 meals, tears and snot form the kids, and an hour delay on the tarmac. At least it wasn't as bad as the Titanic's maiden voyage.
- If you ever get a chance to stay at a Westin, do it. I cannot actually describe just how great of a hotel they are, but I will say their Heavenly Bed is wonderful. The resort itself was more geared toward families with little kids and iguanas, but at times I felt like a little kid in a candy store. There were two trampolines in the water, a glacier to climb, floats, canoes, waterfalls, etc. Chairs on the beach and around the pool had little red flags to put up when you wanted service. There were workers specifically positioned to just look for flags popping up.

view from our balcony of the pool scene

- 70% of the island is a national park and The Westin likes to carry on that tradition. So they breed iguanas on site. Everyday around 2:00pm, the entire pool area would be filled with these 3 foot creatures and this was their feeding time. Apparently they did not have a flag to raise when they were hungry. In addition, the entire resort was almost like a rain forest with gorgeous vegetation.

resident iguana

- The weather was amazing (85-90 and sunny each day). At times I felt like I was lying directly on the equator, even at 9:00am, but it was still amazing to be sitting in a bathing suit when I knew everyone back home was freezing their butt off.
- The Dive In Movie- this was impressive. At night, they set up this 15-20 ft blowup television by the pool and they show a children's movie and serve popcorn while the kids are in the pool. I watched Shrek 2 one night and I must say, the kids were so behaved.

out to dinner with mom and dad with their vacation attire on

I really do not have any funny stories or craziness to report about. It was really just a relaxing vacation with the parents. I read two books, read the paper everyday and just enjoyed life. In bed by 10pm every night and up at 6am to walk around the grounds. I am sad that I do not have any trips booked at the moment. Perhaps Greece in the summer of '07, South America fall '07 or maybe some shuffle board is Siesta Key. Who knows....I'm sure I will be going somewhere soon!

Dad's Major Defeat

If you were to look at my father's hand, they would tell you a lot about him. Beyond the calluses and cuts, his hands tell the story of an immigrant who made a living as an electrician, military veteran and grocery store bagger on Bleeker St. He is a guy who can fix anything in my eyes, wire an in-ground pool all by himself, and hang a fixture like no other. Mr. Ribods, like most laborers, comes home from work tired. There are very few things in this world that can keep my father up at night after a long day's work. There isn't much that could force him to have a restless night....unless you are the wildlife that tends to inhabit his property.

Before I go on, there is another tidbit you need to know about my dad. He loves playing games with any sort of animal that may or may not be causing trouble, but he won't be defeated. When the woodchuck was ruining the lawn, he sat on the patio with his pellet gun, eating breakfast until the little guy came out. After a few sleepless nights wondering how he can get him, he shot the woodchuck. When the back lawn was infested with a rare breed of a scorpion/beetle...Mr. Ribods decided to stand on the hill with a pair of long-nose pliers and yank the critters out of their holes. Everytime he got one, he would kill it by pinning the insect to the house right near the side door. Dad got up to about 12 insects that were about 4 inches long. He has also had run-ins with squirrels, chipmunks, turkeys and wasps.


I was home for the past week and was lucky to spend some quality time with my dad. We were set to run to the store together and I went outside to the car. I found him in the backyard looking bewildered. He was staring at his 10-foot, mesh fence that he put up around the house to prevent the deer from eating the shrubs all winter. My mother calls this mesh fence a complete eye soar, even more so when he attempted to hang Christmas lights from this fence. My dad considers his fence the work of a genius...until that afternoon. There he was...standing in front of his fence, looking at a bent steal pole, and torn mesh. Somehow, an animal (possibly a deer) got into the fenced in area, flipped out and attempted to jump over the fence to escape.

Our trip to the store was put off for a moment as we surveyed the crime scene. There was fur on the fence, hoof marks, and forced entry where the fence met the house. My dad stood there shaking his head saying, "how could this happen?" I gave him my condolences and we went to the store. Later that day he fixed the fence, called my neighbor to discuss the issue at hand, called my mother at work, and even went back outside to the fence still in shock. The next morning we were having breakfast and dad seemed a little silent. He told me he was up all night wondering how the deer could have gotten into the area. I wasn't sure how to console someone with this type of defeat, so I said "don't worry...the deer didn't eat the shrubs. So it could have been worse." My dad's response, "do you think your mother will get mad if I put the mechanical deer that light up inside the fenced in area the rest of the winter to deter the deer from trying to enter until spring?" Knowing that I would be returning to my apartment, I said, "not at all. Just do it after I leave."

Holiday Card and Random Thoughts

This holiday season I somehow received more holiday cards than ever. Between my school mailbox, apartment mailbox, parent's home, and e-mail inbox there was a lot of holiday cheer to be spread around. I even sent a few cards out to those I have not seen in a while or live far away. And to those that see me on a regular basis...well they got my holiday cheer everyday. Getting mail is always fun, but if you are going to spend the money on the card and postage, at least write a little note. I would even be happy with a "Dear Ribods..........Happy Holidays. Dick and Jane." Nothing is more impersonal than opening up a card that reads, "Dick and Jane." The one person I give a pardon to is my dentist, he just stamped his name on it. We don't hold a personal friendship, so it is okay.

On that note, I do not want those who sent personalized cards to go unnoticed. Here are a few:

• Dee: "Wanted to wish you are your family a happy Hanukkah....hahahaha"
• Maggie: "Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays friend. Hope they treat you and your toe well."
• PC: "You will always be my favorite robot."
• Jono: "Even though we don't see much of each other, I still am honored that you are my co-worker"
• Nick: "Happy 'Holly'-days"
• Head of my program at NYU: "Happy holidays Ribods, when are you coming back?"
• Nick Ribods, Jr: "Time to start planning another trip! Happy Festivus!"
• From Ashlee G. to my parents (homemade card!): "Say hi to Ribods for me!"

With that being said, I hope everyone had a great holiday. I am off this week, so I can blog all day. I have pictures coming of the meals we had. And I will be closing the year with a well thought-out post perhaps. Still working on the details.

-Ribs

Feast of Seven Fishes

Christmas Eve in any Italian household is almost as important as Christmas day is in other homes. We tend to celebrate the birth of Jesus with the Feast of Seven Fishes, also known as La Vigilia. It is a meatless feast of seafood dishes in anticipation for the birth of Jesus (Vigilia de Natale) or in our case, midnight mass. I used to despise this seafood dinner, but I have grown to enjoy it a little more each year. This year there is an absence of crab and lobster, but we have the following:

• Shrimp cocktail
• Breaded shrimp
• Raw clams
• Baked clams
• Linguine with clam sauce
• Stuffed calamari
• Salmon

In addition to these dishes, there will be broccoli with garlic and oil, stuffed artichokes, bread from my cousin's bakery in the Bronx, and who knows what else. Tomorrow is Christmas day...and that warrants a completely different type of meal, but just as good.

The Holiday Party

There is something special about the staff at my school...we can leave school and have a great time with each other. Last night was the school's annual holiday dinner held at an Italian restaurant. We exchanged gifts, we ate, we drank, we were loud, we laughed, we offended each other and those sitting around us. Then we took the party to a bar across the street from the infamous Woogies. The night consisted of two dampers though. #1: Ashlee G was not in attendance and #2: We had to teach today (instant buzzkill). I have included a few pictures of the night. Yes, these people below are responsible for educating today's youth.

2007 Middle School Teachers Calender group shot plus our agent (principal) in the way back.

English teacher, social studies teacher & Ribods

The Science Department- apparently I am the only one who drinks

hmm, not sure about this one

Catering Gig, Part Deux

Saturday night consisted of another catering gig in Soho for a private party. I did this party last year with Ev and Iz. Let me set up the scene: The party is thrown by this married couple about 5 years older than I, with a $5 million apartment in SoHo. The apartment has an elevator that opens up inside the apartment, the bedroom doors are frosted glass, the artwork is taller than I, the kitchen has appliances that I am not sure of their purpose (but they look cool) and well....you get the picture. The couple really doesn't care what we do (eat, drink, make fun of the guests, etc), as long as the drinks are poured and the food is always there. Here are the highlights of the night:

• Ev is unofficially the funniest person I have ever met.
• Three lychee martinis in 40 minutes seemed like a great idea until the next morning. I won't complain about free, top shelf alcohol and getting paid to drink it though.
  
• Last year Iz and I were asked if we were lesbian lovers. This year one of the guests said to Ev, "oh, I see the lesbians are back this year."
• Playing "guess who you think I think is cute or wanna get with" the entire night is crucial to a good time.
  
• Rich people get way too dressed up for these parties.
  
• Food: we ate an incredible amount. So massive, that Iz coined the nickname "Piggy".
• I was bombed by the time we left, but still went out for a night cap at PS450 with JT.
  

We are booked for next year's party with them. More food, drinks, and fun at someone else's expense.

The Polls Are In

I worked last night catering at some French cultural center. The party was lame, the people were lamer, but the food was decent. You can't really complain when you are being fed coconut shrimp, fillet mignon, and chocolate covered strawberries (on top of a nice tip, a nice check, being offered a few beers for the road and the floral center piece).

I haven't catered in a while, but I like this company because the parties are small and the people who work there are a good time. Most of the people last night I had never met. There were about 12 of us and at points during the night jokes will begin to form about the guests and one can find themselves in random conversations. One of them being, "what is Ribods' ethnicity?" Ten people were polled throughout the night. NINE out of ten guessed that I was either Lebanese, Jordanian, or Syrian. The tenth person said Turkish.

There was a time I would have been offended.....but I was amused this time around :) Off to work another party with Iz in SOHO. More cash, more good food and more stories.

The Top 100

Some time ago, I started a list of the top 100 things I would like to do and/or accomplish before I die. The list is only 1/4 of the way through and I started it over a year ago. Gustad asked for this some time ago and I thought I would share. Keep in mind this list is not in any type of order.

Top 100

1. Visit the pyramids in Egypt.
2. Donate to a charity in someone else’s name.
3. Live on the west coast
4. Never stop learning
5. Taj Mahal
6. Keep in touch with people I love and those who love me
7. Become a better writer
8. Spend a summer in Sicily
9. Read a little each day
10. Try new foods
11. Vatican- say a prayer
12. Appreciate money but don’t worship it
13. Climb a mountain....Kilimanjaro?
14. Take care of my health
15. Stand up for what I believe
16. Understand there is always room for improvement
17. Run a marathon...okay, run a timed race for a good cause.
18. Write a book
19. Be a good friend
20. Send postcards to people when I am away
21. Drink more water
22. Learn Italian- have a conversation with Dad
23. Buy an SLR camera
24. Surprise myself
25. Write a letter (and mail it!)

Two Days of Solitude

For the past two days or so I have been home with strep throat and a temperature that hit 103 degrees at one point. The only time I did manage to leave my apartment was to go to the doctor and to get my medicine. Total time out of the apartment was approximately 57 minutes. During these past 48 hours I realized a few things:

• In a city with 8 million people, I managed to feel extreme solitude to the point where I realized that I need people interaction on a daily basis. Chatting online with various friends while they are working doesn't count.
• Mama Ribods is amazing. She couldn't make me soup, but she sent me a fresh Christmas wreath to hang on my door to brighten my day. In addition, she encouraged me to take as many days as I needed off from school. I can remember when we were kids, she would send us to school with all sorts of illnesses and tell us "to see how you feel once you get there...you might forget you are sick once you are at school." Yes, forget the lice in my hair that the Pig Pen gave me or the chicken pox on my face or the goo oozing from my pink eye.
  
• Missing school as a teacher is not nearly as fun as missing it was when we were kids. Making substitute plans is the worst.
  
• I still despise the tongue depressor as I did when I was a kid.
• Even I can watch too much Fox News. I never thought it would happen either. When I feel that I can ask intelligent questions to Press Secretary Tony Snow about the Iraqi Study Group it is time to turn it off.

With this being said, I am heading back to school tomorrow. I am probably going to find my markers thrown everywhere, things misplaced, and if I am lucky, the scent of a stink bomb. I hear we were attacked.

Dinner

Because I had defrosted chicken, fresh veggies, and a whole lot of hunger...I decided to chef up something good tonight (even though I am still suffering from the elation of last night's victory at Shea). I managed to steal some fresh rosemary off someone's stoop today while walking home. I stuffed the chicken with rosemary and garlic, then sauteed it in butter. Then I put it in the oven and baked the chicken with tomato and mozzarella on top.

Game 6: Row V

For those that don't know....the letter Z is the last letter in the alphabet, but in the upper deck at Shea Stadium the letter V is the last row. That's right...I have never been happier than to be at game 6 of the NLCS with a die hard Met fan and an arrogant Yankee fan in row V. Below is a picture from our seats!



Even though they aren't the seats that JDF gets for us, Nicky's seats were just as fun. We could see the entire field and I high-fived all these new people that became my game friends! Bring on game 7!

A Spooky Friday the 13th Birthday Happy Hour

Our staff at school is preetty impressive, but most of all they really know how to celebrate a birthday. Thanks to them, I had a wonderful happy hour birthday on Friday the 13th!

We are like family...some a little more than family.

The guy on the left is on roids....he is my workout partner

Perfect display of a double over the shoulder boulder holder with THE GUYS

I think it was only 6pm here

"What did I say to offend you?"

Italian Weddings (Part 2 of 2)

Like I said, Bananas and I attended our friend's wedding recently. I knew it would be a great wedding for a few reasons: 1. Bananas and I decided not to bring dates in order to maximize the fun. 2. Angela (pronounced On-gela by her mother) is about as Italian as they get, this guaranteed everything from the previous post on weddings and more. 3. This was Bananas first Italian wedding.


When we arrived to Glen Island Harbor Club, the car was valeted and we were ready for some action. At first we were greeted by Angela's mother who only made small talk and demanded that we eat. Bananas took my advice and starved herself all day, so she was ready for cocktail hour. Before getting our food and drinks, we got our table cards. Believe it or not Bananas had the only last name that didn't end in a vowel. We signed the guest book right below "Rocco." We found the only other people we would know at this wedding, Angela's brother and fiance, and got something to eat. As any novice attendee during cocktail hour, Bananas went bananas during cocktail hour. I can't say I didn't warn her.

We were very curious as to who would be at Table #14 with us. It was looking like it would be a crap shoot and when we finally arrived at our table in the main dining room we were greeted by Angela's college friends. For those that do not know about NYU, it has a high Asian population. So here I am sitting at my table thinking the following: I just signed my name in the guest book below "Rocco", ate some prosciutto and a rice ball at cocktail hour, and now I am sitting at the Asian table. Please be advised that I have nothing against Asians, but how did I end up at a table that was 50% Asian, 20% Canadian, 20% confused (Bananas falls under this), and 10% Italian (me only) at an Italian wedding?? Maybe Angela felt I could take all these people under my wing for their first Italian wedding experience...it was evident the entire table was losing their wedding virginity together.

white chocolate fondue

Bananas and I had no other choice but to dance the night away. We danced with Ang's brothers, one of which I taught in Somers for a brief period. We decided that we had one mission at this wedding (no, not to score with THE GUYS taking shots of SoCo), but to be all over the professional wedding video. We were fools on that dance floor, doing the lawnmower, the shopping cart, the fishing pole, and even the one where you put your hands on your knees and move your knees back and forth. All this dancing allowed us to stuff our faces a little more.

One rather nice part of the wedding was the centerpiece that Bananas had her heart set on. There were perhaps 60 red roses sitting high up on each table. It was at the point where she probably would have fought for it, but I insisted that the florists would take the centerpieces back. At the point where we were saying good-bye, Bananas notices an older couple take their centerpiece. She ran to take ours at table #14 (since all the Asians were gone) and realized the entire arrangement was about 30lbs. After giving me a look that signaled we can take this entire thing out together, I convinced her to take individual roses and make her own bouquet.

Ribods, Angela and Bananas

So after Venetian hour, we said our good-byes and worked our way to the door (a little slow in walking because of all the food we had). It was at the door where a man offered us some lemon ices to cleanse our palate. Bananas was a little repulsed by any more food, but she truly enjoyed herself at such an event. Not only did we walk out stuffed holding a bouquet of flowers, but we left with the feeling that there are still great guys to meet... at even the crappiest of bars in NYC.

Italian Wedding's (Part 1 of 2)

Bananas and I went to a wedding last weekend and before I can discuss that wedding, we must discuss the Italian wedding. Here are a few things we should all know.

* Gaudy is great: I never support gaudy, but when it comes to one of these wedding, gaudy is encouraged. For example, my brother had the ice sculpture martini glass that dispensed apple martinis all night long. As ridiculous as this was, it was a self service martini dispenser. Where do you see those?

* Family: Italian families are big....huge. My dad is the youngest of eight kids and as a result I am the youngest of 22 cousins (most of those cousins are married with kids). Granted, names like Vinny, Anthony, and Maria begin to repeat but there is tons of family all over the place. My dad's side of the family alone takes up at least 6-8 tables at one of these events. Seating is crucial because the older crowd must be far away from the band, but directly off the dance floor for a good view as to what's wrong with today's youth. The cousins are easy....as long as the music is good and the drinks are flowing, life is nice.

My cousin Anna on her wedding day

* Food: I feel for people when they go to their first Italian wedding. These people should wear stickers or have a mentor during the event. First things first...never eat before one of these. A wedding is like surgery, no food or drink at least 12 hour prior to the event. My second piece of advice, pace yourself. I promise you won't go home hungry and if you are on the dance floor when your pasta plate gets taken away...don't worry, more food is coming shortly. This section has to be broken up into sections:

-cocktail hour: most first timers think this is all the food that will be offered during the entire night. You can pick out a first timer by the amount of times they get food at the various stations that can include (but not limited to): veggies, cheeses, seafood, carving station, pasta station, hot antipasto, cold antipasto, breads, and people walking around with trays of food.

This is what not to do during cocktail hour, even if you are the one getting married

- first course: typically a quarter cantaloupe with a piece of prosciutto on top. This starts the night and cleanses the palette of cocktail hour. First timers would be thinking, "what the hell is this...you call this a salad?"
- salad: usually a tossed garden salad. First timer is now thinking, "wow, two salads!"
- pasta dish: Typical penne dish with a nice plain sauce. Not the biggest portion, but it will satisfy your carb craving. After this course the newbie is thinking, "I'm starting to get full, damn."
- main course: This is usually a choice of beef, chicken or seafood. Vegetarians do not exist in my culture. This is a huge plate of the choice meat with veggies and some sort of potato (never a baked potato). The newbie is thinking, "I wish I didn't eat all of that during cocktail hour because this looks good." This plate is rarely cleaned off, even the experienced attendee knows not to finish it off.

The cake table at Venetian Hour

- Venetian Hour: This is almost like cocktail hour with desserts. This is where drinking for quantity stops and quality begins. Now there are stations of espresso/cappuccino, chocolate fondue, cakes, pastries, fried doughs, cookies, after dinner liquors, candy, ice cream, and just pure gluttony. This not a time to think about the starving children in Africa, nor is it a time to talk about your diet. No one wants to hear about it, suck it up, tomorrow is another day.

On Monday, the newbie who just finished digesting their food that morning will brag about the wedding to their friends at work who have never been to such an event. "You gotta go to one of these weddings......" as if one can buy tickets. This guy will usually feel he has gone through some sort of initiation process and will remember it for the rest of his life.

Summer is Over.....Officially

People often believe summer ends at different times. Some believes it ends on the first day of fall. Many believe it ends labor day weekend. Typically in NYC it is easy to see that after labor day everyone breaks out their black and grey clothing instead of their brighter colors. Talking to a colleague today...she said summer ends when she can't wear flip flops anymore. If I went by that, summer would be half the year.

I often like to categorize summer ending with the last beach outing. I thought my summer had come to an end when I had come back from Europe, started school, and noticed I was wearing my grey pants again (with flip flops). On the other hand, this past weekend I got in some unexpected beach time. It has become a bit tradition for Iz and I to head to Long Beach the week after school opens. I enjoy going this time of year because there is more of an appreciation for the beach since it most likely will be my last time in my two piece before I break out the cords and wool knits. We had a great time...hung out with other teachers outside the classroom, drank some interesting homemade bug juice, and watched some volleyball.

There will always be next summer, but it's sad to say goodbye to what was a great summer. And this morning was the clincher. I woke up, looked in the mirror at my bronzed face, and heard it was going to be a high of 67 degrees on the radio. I was okay with it though.....on a day of remembrance it seemed fitting that the weather was exactly the same as it was 5 years ago.

Back to the Mailbag: More Letters

Here are some blurbs from the letters I have been reading. Enjoy:

"I don't have any expectation of you Ms. Ribods. You are perfect the way you are." (This kid does not have to do any work....ever)

"This summer I went to East Hampton and rode horses. Then I went to Sweden and came home to ride more horses. I have 5 cats, 1 teddy bear, and a hampster named Peter." (I thought this was cute for some reason)

"I tried a new food this summer in Puerto Rico. It was so good, it starts with a P, but I dont know how to spell it. Basically its a beef, chicken or some other kinda meat...but its great." (...or it might be the neighbor's cat)

"I love to play poker with my family and friends." (love it...good italian boy from Tribeca)

"I would like to let you know that I do Tae kwon do and hold a orange belt, but I will be a purple belt soon." (I feel a bit threatened by this statement)

"I love to take care of children and believe it or not i love to take showers." (glad to see one student is clean)