Panda poses with poise

With the full moon, it was tough to point out Orion’s belt and Betelgeuse (“hey honey, its going to blow up some day”"No“”Yes”"Really?”"Uh-huh”"Cool“), but we managed. The laser also gave off a cool green disco effect on her shoes.

On a whim, I carried with me Julia’s digital camera, which was left on the hutch for some infraction and forgotten about months ago.

Then we decided to do something we haven’t done in nearly two years, when nightly walks were far more common, continue cataloging the puppies of Jenkintown. We meandered up to the town square, looked through the toy shop windows and talked about how the new owner of the bakery next door is much nicer (the old one wouldn’t let her use the bathroom once). I forgot how much I missed this stuff. We got out of the habit when Benny became of walking age. He’s less of a stroller than Julia.

When we found our only victim of the night, Julia and I both felt out of practice. She got nervous in asking the owner for permission, and then forgot how to use the flash setting. For my part, I forgot where the review button was as well as my notebook for recording the deets on the dog, Panda. In any case, I felt bad about holding the dog’s owner in the cold to indulge my kid, so I wasn’t going to quiz him.

Merry and bright

Panda, like most dogs around here, it seems, is a mixed breed adopted from a rescue. She had a beagle meets bull terrier vibe and was very sweet. Julia, of course, reminded me that we need a dog. I, of course, reminded her that we can’t rely on her to pick up her toys, how would she manage with a puppy? She just would, is all.

On the way back we stopped off to take some shots of the neighborhood lights. They came out blurry, but Julia liked the effect.

One of those solar-powered LED ornaments. Maybe a hummingbird, which would explain the blur.

She’s thinking of taking pictures of all the stuff in people’s yards. Pink flamingos and decorations and the like.

We’ll call it the Gnomenclature of Jenkintown, I thought, but I didn’t dare tell her. We had done enough for the evening, and I didn’t like the idea of poorly explaining one more thing that night.

The Good Bits

The children grew in leaps and bounds. Julia learned to ride a bike this Fall and Ben showed great interest in Batman, LEGOs and jigsaw puzzles. They are healthy and beautiful.

We had a tremendous time visiting Disney World, despite Benny having to have his chin glued after a pool mishap and Julia developing walking pneumonia (which didn’t manifest, thankfully, until a few days after arriving home). The success of the trip was in large part to my wife’s efforts in frugal planning, including a superb bit of customer service negotiation (which saw that we got an amazing rate at the Port Orleans Riverside) and genius notion to carry 90% of our meals down with us in giant, zippable $2 IKEA bags that we able to check on SouthWest (we only lost the milk and veggie dogs when the hotel room fridge crapped out on us on the second day, but we were merrily compensated). While I’d never go down there in June again (my God, the heat), the trip was worth it. My plan is to do it again in five years and then, maybe, a third time when I have grandkids of my own.

I’ve kept my job in a horrible economy and, while I didn’t get nearly as much done outside of the worksphere, it wasn’t a BAD year in total.

Be It Ever So Crumble…

It hasn’t been a great year for Stinkbug Manor. Last winter, the garage roof blew off and we couldn’t properly repair it until November. There is still a gaping hole in the backyard fence where the tree fell through in the Spring of 2010 (!). Admittedly, we kept that open to ease access to Deadman’s Ditch (the traditional name for the wooded lot behind our home as per Jenkintown’s underage drinking community) and, hence, the garage roof. That proved a good thing, however, since it allowed the owners of the lot better access to clean it out after the Great Flood of ’11.

Hurricane Irene merely wet the basement floor. Tropical Storm Lee, however, opened the floodgates, as it were. We had about 18 inches in the basement, but thanks to the valiant efforts of yours truly (and the Jenkintown Fire Company, whom I owe gratitude and a donation) we were able to pump most of it out, using four quarter-horsepower utility pumps (and Pioneer company’s full-horsepower pump) within the first day or so. Similar events happened up and down the street, which led my darling wife to figure out something was amiss. She’s a civil engineer you see, and quite a good one to my admittedly-biased eye. We spent a good deal of time this fall searching for old maps that could shed some light onto our (and our neighbor’s) problems.

Now, we’ve known that Greenwood Avenue used to feature a small stream that ran down to the Tookany Creek, by the Jenkintown train station. We also knew that the football field next door used to hold a small lake. What was new to me, at least, was the notion that in the field about 40 feet above (and 100 yards behind) our home there was a natural spring an pumping station. Fun.

The rains of Tropical Storm Lee resurrected the Greenwood Underground River to dramatic effect, flooding basements and washing out the railway near where the stream traditionally met the mighty Tookany. I didn’t see it myself, having been busy pumping the basement, but I’ve been told that five feet of dirt and stone had been washed out beneath the track, which remained hanging in mid-air over a 5 to 10-foot gap. Impressive.

Through my wife’s efforts to rally the neighborhood and our Borough Council, Deadman’s Ditch (a natural drainage route) and the school’s much neglected drainage system (which it would seem runs parallel to our property line) have been cleaned out. The drainage system, which collects water from the upper fields, had been impressively backed-up, with weeds growing out of the three five-foot deep drains and dirt compacted far back into the pipes. The basement has been dry since, but let’s see if all parties involved can hold up to their parts in this. I may add a sump to the basement for added protection.

The garage roof finally did get repaired, after I finally got on the ball and re-framed the garage wall. Originally, we had just planned to re-side the garage, as the stucco was coming undone. Turns out that the only thing holding up the garage wall was either the stucco or the stucco in combination with the inside paneling. We knew that the garage had been treated for termites. What we didn’t know is that they created some considerable damage that the previous owners either didn’t know about or neglected to fix. Not a single stud was intact…or even touch the ground. They all sort of hovered there–neither touching the roof sill nor the concrete floor–supported entirely by nails from the interior paneling. Our garage was held up by magic.

After a few weekends, I managed to fix it (with considerable help–and tools–from my brother and father). I sprained an elbow, blackened a fingernail and, ultimately, contracted pneumonia…perhaps from inhaling all the mouse poop, as my better half believes.

That brings me to…

The Great Sick of 2011

In 1980 or so I contracted osteomyelitis following a bought of chicken pox (boo opportunistic infections). I spent a month in the hospital and temporarily lost the use of my legs for a time. I remember not walking, receiving a landspeeder for my birthday, and nightly needles. Its one of the reasons my kids get the chicken pox vaccine. It was the sickest I can ever recall getting and it probably set me on a somewhat sedentary life-path that I wasn’t able to correct until college.

This was a close, close second. I wasn’t hospitalized, thankfully, but I’m still trying to shake the after-effects nearly two months later. It was a nifty reminder of mortality. Pneumonia still tends to kill a lot of people.

The night I finished work on the garage wall, I developed a fever, which lingered for a few days. Since Thanksgiving was coming, I figured I ought to get checked out before possibly infecting elder relatives with some sort of bug. It was pneumonia, which my doctor confirmed with an X-ray. Strangely, I hadn’t so much as a cough…that would come later with a terrible ferocity. I have never coughed so hard as to gag on the actual cough. The muscles responsible for coughing were so worn out that I could barely hack out a bark.

Then came the vomiting. Whether it was from the pneumonia itself, the postnasal drip (which had the effect of draining down my through and inducing nausea, much like when you start swallowing your own spit precedes vomiting when you’re drinking too much), the antibiotics, or some bonus infection, I just don’t know. I barfed so hard, I blew out the blood vessels in each eye to ghastly effect.

Even after the pneumonia cleared up (as proven in a second x-ray), the coughing continued (continues!) likely due to lingering inflammation. The human immune system isn’t a genie that can be easily put back in its bottle. An inhaler helps with that and I’m finally able to sleep through the night and without the help of a bed-full of pillows to keep me upright.

Still, I took the non-shaving recovery time to regrow my goatee (properly a van dyke, I’m told), so…you know, bonus.

Plans for 2012

Housewise
Finish the damn garage. As I mentioned, I finished re-framing the garage wall just before my illness (and the arrival of the contractor). Now I need to put up the siding, which I’ve already bought. (I want someone else to do it, but I’m well enough and the weather is nice enough that I might take a crack at it this weekend. Crom help me.)

Replace the damn fence. And hopefully add to it all those birdhouses currently sitting atop my bookcase. I bought a bunch of cheep birdhouses as a craft project, but we have yet to install them outdoors.

Add a damn pergola. This Spring, I dream of topping my homemade slate patio with a nice pergola. It’ll add some definition to the backyard and hopefully make it more inviting.

Give the boy his own damn room. The house isn’t getting any bigger, and nothing of decent size or location has come onto the market in Jenkintown. So the missus must give up her spacious office for the good of the family. Ben will get a big boy bed and, if luck holds, most of the toys will leave the general living area.

Grg-wise

We are all works in progress, aren’t we? Well, let’s just leave it at that for now.

The new Nano in Action. Also, new facial hair. Old watch.

That’s one of my complaints about the new Nano (not that I don’t like it, I do). It doesn’t work as a watch, despite the umpteen stylish watch faces that come pre-loaded. Why? Because you are required to push the damn button and wait two tenths of a second before being able to see the time (and then only if you have remembered to set the clock to appear). Sorry, I need only glance at the Casio.

Second, they removed the admittedly infrequently-used video capability of the Nano seen in the previous two generations. It can’t be a lack of processing power or memory. It must because they decided they want a square form factor and that, if folks wanted video, they’d buy an iPod Touch. Fui.

Third, I for some reason, I can’t sync my calendar to the Nano, which is a pity considering how they’re pushing all this iCloud nonsense stuff.

I am grateful for the lack of gaming options, as I’ve learned that I get easily addicted to games like solitaire, which offer no conceivable end. (Must…get…to…$50,000…must…win…three…hands…in…a…row)

The radio is also a nice feature and works really well.

Since I’m one of the few people on the planet who do not have an iPhone or an Android, I do wonder if the Nano would make for a good mini-iPhone. I know Apple has dismissed such rumors in the past, but I’d totally dig a wristphone. I already like to keep it on my wrist all the time, and I wouldn’t mind a phone that didn’t do EVERYTHING. My current phone, while it gleefully NOT capable of doing everything, is just awful. Its theoretically capable of going online, through some arcane plan my wife pretends to enjoy, but it takes tens of minutes for it to get data. It theoretically has a camera, but can’t take pictures worth a damn (and even then, you can’t share them). Its theoretically a touch screen device, but it only responds when you don’t want it to, such as when it is in your pocket.The screen is locked, but I’m constantly draining my batteries by making the thing light up. Worse, if I have it set on vibrate, it will buzz a bit with every jostle, trying to fool me into thinking that someone is calling me. My Nano, however, needs to be purposefully woken, which is very nice. So, Apple, do it. I want a cool iPod wristphone that simply lets me take/make calls and listen to my iPod without a huge and unnecessary data plan.

Aly’s the one who had to drive two hours (more, with bad directions and bad traffic) to spend the holiday with my family (whom I love, but really, its all Lstr, all the time up there).

I miss them all.

I believe that’s us, as turkeys.

Jenkintown sits in a sweet spot, train-wise, where three different train lines (and the airport line) pass. Jenkintown was once a shopping mecca, full of department stores and a train that took you all the way to New York City. Now, traffic along Old York Road burns through the borough at a rapid clip, a means of getting people from the city to the mall.

We moved here in 2000, just prior to getting married. My wife and I both took the train to work each day, and planned to have kids, so this place was ideal. However, it took us about 4 years to find a house we like.

Still, I hope to provide what you need to know about Jenkintown.

Jenkintown is roughly .58 miles square, and home to about 4,500 souls and 4,600 people. It was settled in 1697, yet retains few structures dating to that time. (Other than the stuff in the ditch behind the house.) Pumping our awesome cred is the fact that one of the wealthier sections of Abington Township is also called Jenkintown. Hence we get points for Bradley Cooper and Jabril Trawick.

Despite its size, it has two fire companies. The first, Pioneer, was opened in 1884 and the second, Independent, opened in 1889. Going through the library’s archives will tell you that Independent opened, essentially, because Pioneer didn’t allow Catholics (and possibly refused to douse Catholic fires). Yes, Catholics and Protestants didn’t mingle too well then, so much so that certain streets (did I mention this a .58 square mile town?) were off limits to opposing members. Jenkintown apparently had some Klan rallies to boot, but considering that there was only ever a small contingent of African-Americans in Jenkintown, they were probably there to scare the Catholics. Catholics had their time, though, apparently a few years back a majority-Catholic Borough Council sold the property where the old Borough Hall sat to Immaculate Conception, and moved the Borough into a squat ugly bunker a ways off the main center of town. Other than that, the rivalry seems to have dissipated, and Catholics and Protestants are more or less free to mingle. Still prejudices run deep.

Bizarre, if you ask me.

There’s the School, the lifeblood of all Jenkintown. I believe it is what holds this borough together, especially since Old York Road has long since given up that title. The Jenkintown School District goes from kindergarten to 12th grade, and it is so small as to feel like a private school. In fact, I think its enrollment is slightly smaller than Abington Friends School nearby. It helps inflate my taxes, but it also keeps the property values up, so we don’t mind so much. On top of that, it really is an exceptional school. Every so often, we’ll hear a grumble from the Commonwealth about consolidating the Borough’s schools with Abington or Cheltenham. If that happens, we would consider leaving.

There’s the borough government itself. They try very hard given the resources at hand and the Lstrs particularly appreciate their efforts in helping us resolve some drainage issues that turned Stinkbug Manor into a swamp earlier this fall. (My darling wife/professional engineer found a lot of the rumored-records and maps showing the stream that used to run down our street, a stream more-or-less resurrected briefly during Hurricane Irene.)

There’s the Jenkintown Library (Jenkin’s Town Lyceum, I believe the facade says — I once convinced my wife’s friend that we actually lived in Jenkin’s Town).

And, of course, the Hiway Theater, recently restored. They show first-run, more artsy fare on their single screen and kids’ movies on school holidays.

As for bloggers, there are few. I ran a Jenkintown blog about 8 years ago until I got paranoid that my neighbors would realize that I’m writing about them, so in the last few years, all of my Jenkintown posts have been puppy-related. However, my daughter is less interested in taking long walks and shooting puppy pictures with me, so there has been much less of that. Sadly.

There’s Jenkintown Station, which follows the business district’s flailing efforts from the perspective of a recent arrival. I believe the fellow who runs it is a noted regional Diner connoisseur/expert.

Undoubtedly, Jenkintown is a Democratic Party town. You can’t get away from it. However, if you want the minority opinion, you may try Jenkintown Chronicle, which takes its name from Jenkintown’s old paper, which is now part of a conglomerate of Montgomery County titles. It could use a few a pointers on design, or at least a functioning caps lock key. From what I gather, the author is not a Democrat, and that’s all I feel like saying at the moment.

Other J-town Links of Interest

Our storefront population keeps turning over, but there are a few places that are doing quite well. OK, yes there is a shoe repairman that remains inexplicably open and, I think, maybe, a vacuum guy too. But we have a hookah bar (if you’re into that sort of thing) and plenty of real bars to visit. Some Jenkintown places are developing into institutions in their own right.

Chief among those is Rhinoceros Toys led by the indefatigable Kate Pettit. A few years back she turned her (quite successful) bridal shop into a(n even awesomer) toy store. Kate also single-handedly wrangled together Jenkintown’s weekly three-seasonal Farmer’s Market.

Among local eateries, West Ave. Grille has hung in there for good reason. Its reliable, tasty, and always worth a visit.

Another Jenkintown stalwart, Mirna’s Cafe, is the kind of place you’d be comfortable taking your Aunt Myra (or at least, my wife’s Aunt Myra) to when she visits.

I was a little wary when Abner’s BBQ became Rosey’s, but the place is indeed better, making good on its promise of authentic southern barbecue. Or, authentic to me, at least, a committed Pennsylvanian.

As a sign of their goodness, West Ave., Mirna’s and Rosey’s have all recently opened up eateries in Dresher, Blue Bell, and Ambler, respectively. For that matter, I think Rhinoceros has another store in Collingswood, another small, lovely borough, albeit one on the wrong side of the river. (Apologies Jen!)

I’ve only been to 211 York once, but it is an exceptional place, hidden in plain site on Old York Road. There are a lot of good places to eat here in town. To be honest, I wish our borough would play that up a bit more. Retail (outside of specialty places like Rhinoceros) is a hard sell here. We should fill the empty storefronts with restaurants and little eclectic boutiques for post-dinner browsing.

UPDATE 1/10–I added the additional links bit.

His name is Max.

Max Arrow, Private Eye.

There are a thousand stories in the Naked Borough, and this is his.

Really. That’s his name, Max Arrow, Private Eye. He’s a regular on our block and, if I remember correctly, a rescue pup, although obviously greying a bit now. In keeping with the P.I. spirit, there are four things we can deduce about his owner…if you’d care to click the picture to enlarge:

• He works at Trader Joe’s.
• He’s married.
• He can’t hold a paring knife properly.
• He was kind enough to wait for Julia to snap the picture.

Nice fellow.

We were marching up to the town square in the hopes that ice cream could be found there. Fortunately, the new place, 709 West Avenue Cafe was open an hour past its posted closing time. There Ben and Julia each ate a bowl of ice cream larger than their heads. I had the coffee.

The Cafe, not to be confused with the West Avenue Grill across the street, opened a few months back and seems to be getting decent word-of-mouth. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, the Cafe is in the same spot where the Grill started out almost a decade ago. Between the Cafe and Old Man Al’s Questionable Burgers, there’s something of an uptick in local eateries, which is great since Jenkintown Java’s preserved corpse is still sitting there off the square, waiting for a new tenant to step in and get the pots boiling again.

Jenkintown doesn’t need another vacant store, but I’ve always wondered why we needed so many frame shops.

Senator’s Daughter Found – Mrs. Hallowell Irwin, daughter of the late Senator Thomas B. Harper, who mysteriously disappeared from her home in Jenkintown, several weeks ago, was found in a hotel in New York and brought back to home at Jenkintown on Saturday. Although no reason is ascribed for Mrs. Irwin’s absence, which kept her relatives worried for some time, it is believed that she became despondent immediately after her father’s death and wandered away.

Two sentences, but a whole world of mystery.

Also, unrelated but in the same article:

Boy Dies of Lockjaw – Valek Dranaka, aged 17 years, of Bridgeport, died on Saturday in the Norristown Hospital of lockjaw, which developed from blood poisoning, following a wound on the leg near the ankle, the result of having been struck with the iron point of a bobbin while at work in Loes’ mill, Bridgeport.

Just a reminder that life was harder, death more frequent. This young boy, who should have been in high school, but was working in a mill, killed because his nicked ankle became infected. Think about that the next time you hear someone cranking on about modern medicine.

Don’t be fooled by the enormous golden retriever, Abby, here. She’s not just a sleepy older pooch on the, erm, husky side.

She’s like a trapdoor spider, waiting for two year-olds to lick. I believe her tongue was big enough to get all the spaghetti sauce off Ben’s face in one go. You see, there’s a reason we do this after dinner.

This pup, on the other paw, truly was sedentary.

Lastly, Cocoa was a sweet older beagle that we’ve seen a few times, but never has been captured, until now. I like this pic.

An Iggles fan, even in the off season.

All pictures courtesy of Julia, click ‘em to embiggen.

Bo, who we caught along with yesterday’s Sonny, is either trying out to be the next Nipper, or wants to know when Julia is going to take the #&*! picture already.

But, you see, its the ambiguity behind her portrayal that sets her apart from other dogs.

Or, she’s just a dog.