Category review

Pre-Snowstorm at the Modern Laundromat

Angel Ackerman 1 Comment

Preamble: New Job

So, life got more hectic than usual this week. That’s a large statement on my behalf because my life is normally chaotic, but I promise this is not hyperbole.

I started a very part-time job this week (two days a week, short shifts) and the details of that shall remain for a separate post. But needless to say, the interview, the job offer, my acceptance, and my orientation happened in less than a week.

Winter is a terrible time for retail– and book sales follow retail trends– and my political journalism work won’t resume for another month. With the trials our furnace put us through this autumn and the illness that knocked us out of commission in December, I needed some predictable income even if it does only add $150 a week to the household coffers.

The Flat Tire

On Tuesday, Eva and I had a tight schedule– I had a morning meeting, Eva had some lunch dog walks and a therapy appointment and when she was due to get home, I would head out the door to my gym appointment at St. Luke’s fitness.

But when I got out of my meeting I had a flat tire with a screw sticking out of it. Luckily, a man in the parking lot had a portable air compressor and filled my tire. Then I picked up Eva, drove her to her dad’s to get his car, and then drove to the tire place.

Did I mention it had started snowing?

I had not slept much because of all the goings-on so I opted to cancel my gym appointment.

The Bedroom Reno/Redo

I’ve needed to deep clean my room for a while. I live with a bratty Goffin’s cockatoo and have three cats who live in my bedroom, so it’s always gross. I vacuum and clean cat boxes every other day if not every day but there’s still dust on everything, whether it be plaster dust, dust dust, bird dander or bird seed.

Eva painted my room originally about six years ago in Behr Diva Glam, which later turned out to be a pretty close match for “Parisian Phoenix Pink.” At that time, we painted the trim almond and ripped out the carpets but we never finished the old hardwood floors. Nala, my naughty Goffin’s cockatoo, has been peeling paint off the wall and eating window trim, and when we first painted the room we had an issue where the paint didn’t quite stick.

So, somehow, one thing led to another and the upstairs of our house has been scheduled for a deep clean. But somehow even that deep clean has gotten out-of-hand. Like maybe I should have gotten a bagster or dumpster.

We ripped down everything from curtains to bedding and Eva repainted my room and updated the color scheme. I managed to find the exact color I used to have. Eva also cleaned and updated the electrical outlets and switches. We also have a new ceiling fan to go in there eventually.

Eva decided to go ahead and learn how to refinish the wood floors and she stained them Behr “espresso” water-based poly/stain combo. This room has not had the floors done since we’ve owned it, but we also did not want to wait for the oil to dry or asphyxiate ourselves while doing this in winter.

Today, before the impending snow storm, Eva and I opted to take all of the curtains, bedding and animal beds and stuff to the laundromat.

The Modernity of the Laundromat

So, I haven’t gone to the laundromat in 20+ years– even our apartments either had a laundry room or a washer/dryer hookup. But I have retained the habit of collecting “sacred laundry quarters” for parking, Aldi, tolls, emergencies like a cup of cheap coffee.

I know of at least three laundromats within a half-mile of my house and I googled them. I decided on So Fresh N So Clean for its location across from Wawa and Home Depot and between the former salon where my favorite nail tech used to work and Papa John’s pizza in the old health food store.

I expected, thanks to the web site, that there was wifi and that I could pay for my wash with my quarters or digital options or use the change machine to get more quarters. But I did not anticipate the app. The app attempted to tell me what washers and dryers were free and texted me when my laundry was almost done.

Stairs make me cry

Angel Ackerman 1 Comment

The hardest part about any health or fitness journey is forming better habits. The exercise isn’t hard. Taking your medicine or vitamins isn’t hard. Heck, if you have a balance of choices in your house, healthy eating isn’t hard.

Fighting with your bad habits is hard. Discipline is hard. Showing up is hard.

Once you walk in the door, going to the gym isn’t hard. Once you have a plan and get the ingredients out of the refrigerator, meal prep isn’t hard.

But change, change is damn hard.

I had two workouts this week with Alex at the Thrive Medical Fitness program at St. Luke’s Hospital. My first was Wednesday, and my second was Friday. I felt good after my first, but man oh man did my body hurt after the second one.

My next workout isn’t until Tuesday afternoon, so I found myself thinking that in order to maintain momentum I should do something today (Sunday). Because at this stage in the game any action that helps reinforce a consistent change in behavior is necessary.

So I contacted Greg at Apex Training and asked if he was hosting his Sunday morning boot camp at 8:30 a.m. The boot camp is drop-in and costs $10. I have never attended one of Greg’s boot camp programs, because I typically spent Saturday morning at the gym with Andrew. And a body needs a chance to recover.

Of course, Greg basically told me to get my ass over there, and so I did. What I love about my time at Apex is that all of the guys and all of the regulars are genuinely enthusiastic and helpful, and we’re all a tad sadomasochistic, which is of course part of what makes us successful. Plus the gym is a slow ten-minute walk from my house. The walk there and back is my warm-up and cool-down.

You see, even if I got to the gym this morning, did one set of exercises and left, it would have been a win. Because the goal was to get up, go out in the cold, and walk over. Once you achieve that mental hurtle, the rest is easy. At this point, I want to encourage myself to do something every other day and to increase my steps, not because of my steps per se, but for heart/cardio health.

And I know some people will use exercise as a reason to “reward” themselves with “cheat” or “treat” foods– but I’m the opposite. If I’m working out, I’m more prone to not sabotage my progress.

And, because I’m stubborn, I survived Greg’s workout.

But the way my body feels, I’m already struggling to get up the stairs.

But that’s how it works.

This Christmas (2024)

Angel Ackerman 1 Comment

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it multiple times this year. 2024 has brought with it profound hopes and joys, and also some challenges and disappointments. I hate when people say “it’s been a good year” or even a “bad year” because our measures of time are such arbitrary concepts.

I would like to take stock of my life not in calendar years but more in marks of what I have achieved in my various stages and ages.

I believe after November’s blood pressure scare we have that under control. I have an appointment to return to the medical fitness program Friday, and have in the last four months successfully lost 4-5 pounds. Considering my affinity for stress eating, the low level of weight loss is not surprising.

Food certainly plays an important role in my heart health as my blood pressure and weight respond clearly and drastically based on my sugar and salt consumption.

Eva had a double ear infection, sore throat, laryngitis and vertigo three-ish weeks ago, and she is still recovering from that– and she has shared with me whatever gunk started her troubles. I had a small fever last Tuesday night and struggled with an excess of clear phlegm and a cough for the last week. I have coughed more and more at night for the last few days, hours each night according to my AppleWatch, and finally expelled some pale yellow mucus and blood from my nose at 5 a.m. this morning. With luck and dreams I can hope that was the “infection,” and perhaps I can start to mend.

Eva and I haven’t fully embraced Christmas in recent years, especially since my father’s death three years ago and the increasingly-distanced behavior of my parental family. But at the same time, despite my health challenging me, trying to grow my business and watching my financial security evaporate, and in general surrendering a lot of items and ideals that were important if not central to me, I find myself closer to peace than I have been in a long time.

I meet people every day who, in some cases, inspire me, and in other cases, remind me who I don’t want to be. I still spend too much time mourning the past and not enough celebrating the future.

I had coffee with an impressive woman last week– Lenore Kantor– at Plants & Coffee.

Let me share with you these holiday-themed photos I took there.

When one is battling health problems or illness, especially at the holidays, it offers so much time to think undistracted by the work we just don’t have the mental or physical energy to do.

And in my case, I have explored some of Roku TV’s nostalgic offerings for Generation X (and earlier). I have watched Bewitched, I Dream of Jeannie, Diff’rent Strokes and Pink Panther recently while AppleTV offered me a free month so I am binging La Maison.

Delight at Cellar Beast Winehouse

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

Last night, I had the pleasure of accompanying Darrell Parry and William D. Prystauk to a reading at Cellar Beast Winehouse in Andreas, Pa., not that far from where I had breakfast at Bowmanstown Diner earlier this week (in the Palmerton/Lehighton/ Carbon County region). We joined Liz Rosen and JZ Nieves as part of a book-and-wine pairing event that celebrated this unique winehouse as well as our writing.

Darrell opened the evening with some poetry.

Bill went next with the opening of his novel, The Hanging Girl. The wines began with German-inspired white and progressed all the way to a dark, rich red called “Dark Angel” that the host paired with my reading from my second novel, Courting Apparitions.

I wish I could have seen the sign language interpretation of my excerpt as it was the only reading of the evening to contain a very sultry scene– in addition to the appearance of a ghost.

Darrell ended up buying a bottle of Dark Angel, and it was an impressive evening, both because of the organization, participation and the ambiance of the venue AND the excellence of all of the wines.

Day 2: Breakfast in Salem (New Hampshire), Musuem of Printing and Lowell, Massachusetts

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

Checking out of our lovely Doubletree hotel (goodbye cookies!), Gayle and I headed to Sammy J’s Luncheonette for breakfast. Gayle made a comment about the proximity of the state line, not realizing it was so close. So I decided to take her to the next state– less than six miles away– for breakfast.

I knew it was a good choice when we arrived and had to circle around the building to find a parking space. And we found ourselves in a weird dumpy area, next to a fire station and what looked like an empty grocery store. There was a back door to the restaurant that asked customers to please not wear cleats in the restaurant.

I think we found the local spot where all the boomer men eat, which is surely the sign of a good diner. I had a kielbasa and cheddar omelette with baked beans and marble rye toast. Gayle had cranberry walnut pancakes.

After we finished eating, we put gas in the car and the GPS took us a lovely back route to the museum. We arrived in Haverhill about forty minutes before the Museum of Printing opened. Gayle suggested perhaps we could go early, park the car and walk the town. I pointed out that I didn’t believe the museum was in a town.

And sure enough, the museum was in a residential neighborhood, wooded, on narrow, badly aged one-lane streets. So we went to a shopping plaza about 1/3 of a mile away. It had a Marshall’s and I’ve been trying to use a gift card that Little Dog’s Mom gave me for my birthday.

At 9:25 a.m., we turned up on the doorstep of Marshall’s. And they open at 9:30. We waited– and here’s the kicker– a crowd assembled with us. TO GO TO MARSHALL’S. That killed fifteen minutes. And I got some cool stuff: coffee, syrup, candy and PINK NAIL POLISH.

We got into the car a little before 9:50 a.m. and drove back to the museum.

And there, my friends, let me tell you, the folks at the Museum of Printing can REALLY pack stuff in. The museum is relatively small but has just everything in it. The story the museum tells covers so many different aspects of printing. I’ll be writing more about that over at the Parisian Phoenix blog.

Then we stopped at Andover Bookstore, and Andover was cute and at the tail end of a scarecrow festival. The town was quaint but also a bit boring.

Next we visited Lowell, which I’m fairly certain is my great-grandmother’s birthplace. I actually downloaded a new parking app for Lowell. It has a rich history as a transportation center, canals and trains and all that jazz. Once we parked the car we noticed a sign, “Mochinut: More than Just a Donut.” I asked Gayle, “Can we go see what that is?”

And after we ordered some mochinuts (which we tasted after dinner and the ‘classic’ tasted like funnel cake) and a brown sugar thai tea with pudding and boba, we found an art store (a good one) and then we meandered to lala books where E.H. Jacobs is having a book event next week. Very cool store. Had small town vibes in a very urban space. And I bought some local books.

At that point we came to our hotel to find a charming desk clerk. She asked if either of us had pets with us. I answered, “Just my hair.”

We’re at an Extended Stay America. The dishwasher has a swamp in the bottom of it, the sink drips and the internet keeps dropping even though I paid extra for the “enhanced” wifi because I couldn’t get on the internet at all and had no cellular service. I even got to call tech support!

That’s when we went to a nearby Mexican restaurant, Gayle found it and told me to order a margarita. The host was from Macungie. We started chitchatting when I asked if he had a t-shirt with the same phrase as the neon in the doorway: eat tacos, drink tequila, have fun.

And all I need to say about that is that the cocktail I had included cassis, rhubarb bitters, maple syrup and fig and was beyond delectable. And they had this enormous appetizer of Brussel sprouts. It was sweet, savory and just yummy.

More on medical dramas: New Amsterdam

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

I can’t believe it’s been three weeks since I posted anything to this blog– if you’re looking for me I’m using on social media and on ParisianPhoenix.com as more and more my publishing business must support more of my life. It’s hard to believe it’s been 13 months since Stitch Fix closed our warehouse.

So, my personal life isn’t much these days because my professional life has blended so much into my personal life– and I don’t take care of myself with the attentiveness I used to because I have less resources and worse medical insurance.

But a while ago, I went on a tangent about Grey’s Anatomy. (I really cannot believe that it’s still on the air. I cannot stand Meredith herself.) All my Grey’s Anatomy’s posts can be read here.

After I finished all the season’s available of Grey’s Anatomy on streaming and watched Season 20, I turned to The Resident. I had attempted The Resident once before and abandoned it fairly quickly. I started that in early summer and finished it right after my Atlanta trip, a trip where I stayed about a mile from the museum that they used for the exterior of the hospital.

I think Dr. Bell’s transformation on that series– from the hands of death and destruction to an actual nice guy– was rather impressive. The way they handled Emily VanCamp’s (Nurse Nic Nevin) departure from the show was frankly stupid. They had an end-of-season two situation where Nic was stabbed, (one of the quintessential medical drama plots) and the staff saved not only her life but that of her unborn child, only to have her die in a car accident a few months later. As a writer, I would have much preferred to see her leave Dr. Conrad Hawkins and join some international medical NGO than simply die after swerving to avoid hitting a deer.

That show also did a troubling time jump. In the middle of one episode, they fast-forwarded three or four years as a way to get Conrad out of private practice and into the hospital again, since he is the main character. They used trick or treat night, and skipped to a bigger child and a different Halloween costume in mid-episode!

So, while The Resident has some perks, it also aggravated me as most of these shows do. You always have the maniacal surgeon who must have good outcomes at all costs, the doctor with cancer, the doctor hooked on pills. There’s always the natural disaster that threatens the hospital. The generators never work when they should. There is always a field amputation. And there is always a pregnant woman who gets in some horrible accident. And don’t forget the brilliant surgeon who has some catastrophic injury but manages to come back.

I could go on.

I was very skeptical when I started New Amsterdam, but I quickly noticed some nuances about the show. It’s far from perfect– within the first season we hit most of those typical plotlines and stereotypes. But the show grew on me. I’m troubled that they used the dangerous pregnancy plotline, with the caesarean without tools at home scenario, but killed the character off in the same episode with not complications from any of that, but in an ambulance accident.

And the storyline of psychiatrist Iggy Frome infuriates me and endears me to him. In the middle of the show’s run they have a few incidents where he must face the idea that he might be a narcissist, only to drop it without resolution (okay, technically I have about six episodes to go). But his later struggles to define himself and his role in his own relationships is stellar.

They tackle real topics with more than a perfunctory mention. The pill-popping doctor must deal with her sobriety, her addict family members, her sister’s overdose and her own controlling behavior as she realizes she replaces substances with sex and even people. The episode on the overturning of Roe vs. Wade had weight to it, as the medical professionals struggled to find solutions.

Their representation of diversity includes a trans nurse, a doctor with a dwarfism condition that starts as an extra and works his way up to chief of the department (even if that didn’t last), a conservative doctor who fathers a child in a polycule, and a deaf oncology surgeon who participated in one surgery and eventually became a main character– with a whole lot of ASL and other deaf actors/characters.

Now add to all of this that New Amsterdam is based on a 2012 book, Twelve Patients: Life and Death at Bellevue Hospital, and the author really did serve as medical director of Bellevue and survive cancer as the main character of New Amsterdam does… I, of course, had to read the book.

I’m 60 pages in, which is into the third chapter and I’m impressed at how well the book and the television program complement each other.

Poetic solo adventures

Angel Ackerman 1 Comment

Today, I donned my publisher hat and I drove to Bernards Township Public Library in Basking Ridge to support poet and filmmaker McKenna Graf. McKenna publisher her second volume of poetry with Parisian Phoenix Publishing after self-publishing her poetry debut. Her next event is in Manhattan on August 22, 6 p.m., at the Barnes & Noble on the Upper East Side.

I started my day with a squawking cockatoo, and then proceeded to come downstairs with the intent to write a draft of my upcoming political profiles for Armchair Lehigh Valley and I did an hour of work on it. But for some reason sifting through Milou Mackenzie’s different Pennsylvania house bills spiked my anxiety and allowed that little voice to take hold. You know– the negative thoughts voice that says, “You can’t do this.” And/or “all your effort is meaningless.”

But, I know I have a road trip today so I eat a hearty breakfast, deliver Eva to her father’s car, and order my Panera iced tea. In the adventurous spirit of a road trip, I go to a different Panera and I love that there drive-through is a straight lane. But what I do not realize as I drive up is that they finally tore down the Phillipsburg Mall.

They have been saying that they were going to demolish the Phillipsburg Mall probably for a decade– and all the reports stating that the anchor store Kohls would be the only part of the mall left standing. This Panera was on one of the pad sites at the mall. (A quick Google search tells me that Crown American opened the mall in 1985, a key time period for malls, and that the stores vacated in 2019-2020. Supposedly a warehouse will be erected on the site. Because every warehouse needs a department store next door.)

In the late 1990s and early 2000s, especially when I worked in the area as a journalist, the Phillipsburg Mall was probably my favorite in the region.

The Author Talk

The drive to the library was uneventful. The Bernards Township Public Library appears a fairly modern vibes with the architectural feel of a small elementary school. McKenna did a wonderful job reading her poems and answered questions with ease during the chat portion of the program.

These are the moments when I very much love what I do, and these are also the moments when I get to contemplate how much the community built by a publisher influences everyone involved with it.

McKenna said several astute, thought-provoking items:

  • Self-publishing her first book put her in control of her own destiny instead of waiting for someone to deem her worthy. I would describe this a little differently: that self-publishing gave her a hands-on understanding of the industry which allows her to navigate and negotiate her future with less naivete.

  • Each book/work/poem represents a moment in time, and as such, they will never be perfect. And despite their imperfections, poems will always convey the feeling they need to share.

  • During her recent intensive geology class that toured National Parks in Utah and Arizona, poetry allowed her to grapple with something difficult. As she struggled to learn the complex scientific knowledge of the course, she used poetry to translate it. And she then made herself a photo book of the unedited work to capture the moment in time.

McKenna sold some books. I made some social media posts. I wove around the streets of Basking Ridge to entertain myself and I headed home.

Road Trips Snacks

On the way home, if I wanted to be a nice person, I needed to stop and put gas in the car. I noticed a sign for QuickCheck and that’s one of Eva’s favorites so I figured I would stop there. I discovered it was on Perryville Road, which is pretty darn close to her surname. I figured I’d run in the convenience store and get a snack (but hopefully nothing too crazy as I have lost four pounds) and then get gas.

I decided on a cup of their Kris Kringle iced coffee with light cream, apple slices and Lenny & Larry’s complete creme bricks… I mean cookies. The package said they had 15 grams of protein and 130 calories. So why not?

Gas was fifty cents a gallon cheaper than in Pennsylvania and it’s always a nice treat to have someone else pump it. The coffee had coconut and vanilla notes, which made me regret getting a small as I could have easily finished a large. I ate the apple slices (probably my first serving of fresh fruit this week) while waiting for the car to fill.

And wouldn’t you know as soon as I ended up on the road again the damn oil light came on. And the car is scheduled for an oil change in eight days.

The drive home was also lovely, and I enjoyed singing along to my music.

But if you’re curious about the cookies–

They tasted like hard discs of sprinkles. The vanilla flavor was that candy-ish flavor one gets from sprinkles, but the texture was hard, and I don’t mean hard like a cookie wafer but hard like an almond. When I got home to examine them closer I saw each serving had 130 calories, but each package of six cookies was three servings. So I had wasted almost 300 calories on some awful cookies. In addition to protein, they had some potassium and iron. The ingredient list looks like the whole cookie is wheat, pea protein and oil.

Tying for gold at Lucky Strokes Mini Golf

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

Earlier this week, I got a text message from Mr. Accordion.

Mr. Accordion and I were roommates during my tenure at a certain nonprofit that suffered from toxic management. It’s funny though how life leads a person on a meandering path, and we end up gaining things from experiences that hurt us at the time. I have current clients who connected with me because of that job. I ended up at Stitch Fix because of that job. And I published my novel as a distraction when I lost that job. So many of the circumstances that led to the success of Parisian Phoenix Publishing launched from a very stressful and agonizing work environment, where I shared an office with Mr. Accordion.

Mr. Accordion retired, and he has spent the last four years at various part-time jobs and spending time with his family. I have only known him about five years, but in that time he has always had a joke to share, leads on good food, and a genuine care for other people.

And the other day he invited Eva-the-no-longer-a-teenager and I for pizza and mini-golf. And who am I to say no to pizza and mini-golf? The venue in question was Lucky Strokes mini golf and driving range and Isabella’s Pizza.

They had a strange, vintage upholstered chair in the parking lot with a “free” sign and a school bus with a giant target painted on it in the back of the driving range, if I saw correctly at 175 yards.

The no-longer-a-teenager and I arrived and ordered a medium pizza with capicola and artichokes.

And after some conversation with Mr. Accordion, Eva and I hit the golf range. Now, I did set my Apple Watch to “golf” (and Omada gave me credit for “sports”). It took us 37 minutes to play all 18 holes. (In part because the people ahead of us where having some intense discussion about his marriage and how his wife wasn’t taking the couples counseling seriously. At least, that’s what Eva heard. How she heard that without her hearing aids, I don’t know.

It looked to me like the worst first date ever. She looked disinterested with her back turned, sipping her soda. He would not shut up about himself or his wife. And every time you looked at them, he was standing over to the side with his putter over his shoulder and his ball on the other side of the green.

Immediately, Eva noticed two things:

  1. I don’t even remotely line up the putter correctly.
  2. I was swarmed by small harmless bee creatures.

And then while following my little pink ball around I fell up an incline and ended up crawling around the artificial turf on my hands and knees. Speaking of my knees, my knees and legs refused enough to let me get the ball out of the hole at each green.

Instead of keeping traditional score, we kept score of who landed each hole first, and who won each hole. We ended up trying, 8 holes each with two ties. None of which would have been possible without Eva’s golfing lessons. And her tendency to sometimes hit the ball so hard I feared she might have landed it on the next green.

And I think I had a hole in one, but now I don’t remember.

On the way home we stopped at The Spot for ice cream. I haven’t been to The Spot since my Stitch Fix days.

I had a dusty road sundae.

Cat tree with a side of sneakers

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

I ordered a new cat tree. It was a product Amazon sent me for free in exchange for a review as part of their Amazon Vine program. And it was designed to look like a space rocket so how could I say no.

When the box arrived, The Teenager tore into it. And the first thing she discovered was a pair of ugly sneakers. “Unisex” no-tie, size men’s 5.5 sneakers. So she tried them on.

The 53-inch cat tree had no instructions packed with it, and the hardware wasn’t organized in the box either. So, the resourceful-as-ever Teenager called up a photo on Amazon, because the box had no photos either.

This cat tree was missing all the plastic half-globe pieces for the cats to sleep in. There are supposed to be two. It’s made of particle board and the legs were not equal heights.

The cats have explored it, but if I had spent $90 on this, I would be very unhappy right now. It’s the only one-star review I’ve ever given on Amazon. The random sneakers is what made me have to share this with you. Because once again, my life heads into the ridiculous.

The magic in downtown Easton

Angel Ackerman 1 Comment

Ever since my husband and I moved there circa 1998, downtown Easton has always been a magical place for me. I have lived there, worked there, dined there, and seen the neighborhood grow and change, businesses come and go.

Easton PA and Phillipsburg NJ were both struggling fiercely then, and fine artists were starting to buy property and set up studios in Easton. A lot of my favorite people came to Easton in this way. Phillipsburg had hoped to redevelop industrial lands (which, as in the trend now, has become warehouses) and attract railroad-related tourism.

For those who are not local, while these two towns are in different states, they are only separated by a river– the Delaware River– and that river is easy to cross, even on foot. When I was covering Phillipsburg as a newspaper reporter, I learned that Phillipsburg residents often referred to Easton as “going to town.” Both regions, in Pennsylvania and New Jersey, have strong agricultural roots so state lines meant little when compared to where the department stores, services, and professionals were.

Even though I do not live in Easton, and have not for the last 20 years, I have lived a mere two miles away from downtown Easton and can still physically walk there it’s so close. The street where I live, and those parallel, all go straight downtown.

I went downtown yesterday for an appointment at the Sigal Museum. Now, as a historian and a proud local history nerd, this alone was a great way to start the day. When I arrived, they had just opened so they weren’t quite ready for me yet. Being gracious hosts, they told me to go play in the museum. I mean visit. Visit the museum.

Arts Community of Easton Small Works show

Before I could reach the exhibits, I had the chance to explore the Arts Community of Easton Small Works Show — which features works by Parisian Phoenix contributors Joan Zachary and Maryann Riker (even if her piece didn’t have her name on it. I recognized it!), (speaking of Phillipsburg) a long-time peer and lover of Barenaked Ladies Claire Jewett who used to own a business in downtown Phillipsburg, and my neighbors, literally the other side of my house, James Cox and Sarah George.

I will be doing two workshops for ACE, at the Easton Area Public Library main branch in July. I believe it’s July 8 I will present a memoir class, and on July 30 we will be working on writing clear nonfiction.

So that was fun… And then it was time to immerse myself in local history.

They have a wonderful exhibit about the origins of the two rivers area and the Native American tribes there. And a wigwam/wikewam! I explored the first floor for a while but I had to carefully extract myself before I wouldn’t be coming out again until they closed.

After my adventure at the museum, I meandered to “the circle” to visit Andy at Book & Puppet Company, our local independent bookstore. We had a fantastic conversation and I found the most unusual purchase– a graphic novel rendition of Albert Camus’ autobiographical novel, The First Man. I learned that Andy had produced not only a new CD but also an audio book memoir by Melba Tolliver. Melba had a very interesting career as a television journalist.

And then there was only one acceptable way to end my morning out, with pie from Pie + Tart. I brought the pie home and shared it with the Teenager. I spent the afternoon working on a ghostwriting project and took a break to drive The Teenager to renew her drivers license. In the evening, I returned downtown to have a belated birthday celebration with a friend, poet and former work colleague. We had drinks, guac and other goodies at Mesa Modern Mexican.