The Boys of Banner Hill

To your left: photographic proof of old friend Sandro's ability to tolerate my show-off theatrics while visiting the Gloucester estate of Dr. Jay on a moody Saturday afternoon. Fortified by a free-range Mediterranean saladio and accompanied by Global Design Director JoeY, we scaled the local Matterhorn and noted the highest point in town from the former estate of Canadian-born glue czar W.N. LePage (yes, the Mucilage King himself).

To your right: Banner Hill below decks. The good Doctor led us to the basement to reveal an honest-to-gosh naval swivel gun, found buried on the property and dating back to the Napoleonic Wars (we hope). Sailing vessels of yore employed these to guard against invasion (and not the Bose kind, either). Maybe the LePage clan kept it around for similar purposes. Or maybe as an ancient form of Pulse Width Modulation. Who knows?

Just below: Sandro points out various geographic highlights of Gloucester Harbor while I dream of Nicoises I Have Known. It only took one flawlessly mixed wine spritzer for me to see that these fellas really know how to entertain a gal (and I mean that in the nicest way). A tour of the art-filled East and West wings capped a perfect afternoon by the sea.

Rue the Day

This blog's first embedded video: a clip from the "lost footage" of my association with Paris motorcycle gangs in 2009.

For Our NY Readers

I offer this lovely Mother and Daughter tableau rendered in hues worthy of a Flemish painter, which I have entitled simply, "Explaining the Wonders of Google."

Speaking of wonders, I also extol the virtues of Meyers Liquid Dish Soap. Biodegradable and made from lemon verbena, it's tops. I much prefer it to Big Chemical Company products. One of the few places you can get Meyers' stuff is at New York's Fairway market chain. Meyers has so many products that are packaged alike, you can easily come home with a bottle of Super Stain Remover when you only wanted dish soap. Fairway's upstairs dining room also happens to be a stellar spot for a feast of crabcakes and soft shell crab on a Saturday night.

Of course, the city's transit system is our magic carpet, spiriting us to destinations like Gray's Papaya, the Fairway and beyond. A veteran rider, it's Mummy's turn to show me the ropes of how to get a seat even when the bus is crowded.

I Get Around

Every day gets closer to summer, but I think I prefer the moods of late spring. Morning or afternoon, the sun is warm, the streets are walkable, and any number of shady lanes beckon.

You never know what you'll run into on suburban streets. It could be neighbors walking their dog, a lavish new executive mansion under construction, or a piece of heavy equipment parked by the roadside (with the keys in it).

Three for the Asking

Recently, JoeY was the recipient of a 1960 vintage Raleigh Sports bike. He feels it's a dream of understated elegance, but the ride could be less stiff and more forgiving on bumpy trails. With the help of my trusty 3/8" socket, I installed a brand new Schwinn seat, but no go. JoeY also gave a thumbs-down when the boys at Cambridge's Ace Wheelworks recommended a $200 leather Brooks saddle. The case remains open.

Not so with my homegirls Helen and Emmy. A big show was held this weekend at the Gymnastics Academy of Boston studio they frequent, and these kids tumbled like nobody's business. Check out the giraffe- and jungle-themed leotards, medals and big grins on this Olympian pair. Naturally, I was there to take photos and cheer them on to V•i•c•t•o•r•y.

The last item in our weekend news roundup is my visit to a little Japanese joint called Shabu Ya in Harvard Square. I sampled the superb scallion pancake and cavalcade of sushi, but could not take my eyes off the private booths screened off by Sicilian summer festival light fixtures and a mysterious curtain made from strands of ball bearings. Next time...

Gray's Papaya at Eventide

While in New York for Mother's Day, I had a craving for the special kind of hot dog only found at Gray's Papaya; browned and crispy as you please. It was late afternoon, and strong winds were howling in the streets. "Should we risk it?" I asked Mummy. "Don't worry," she said, "the wind always subsides at eventide." Eventide was a term used in the Middle Ages to describe dusk. Now you know where I got my way with words.

She also taught me the fine art of eating at a counter, which involves taking up space and discouraging people trying to crowd you. No matter. I'd have used my splint to cold cock anyone who tried any funny business. The winds continued to blow as we walked up Broadway, but it was worth braving the gusty currents: the hot dogs were simply delish.

Springly Things

Yes this is a duck, paddling around Lower Vine Brook in the Lexington woods. No, it's not me, but you could say I'm just as happy as Mr. Mallard. The next photo you see of me will be sans cast, and it's a fitting season to be disporting myself thusly. Spring is here with a vengeance (or a vacuum, depending on how ambitious you are) and nature's a bloomin' all over.