#7 Boston - White Trash Hiking July 21, 2007

Some people should just not be let not out of their homes, least of all into the woods to hike up a somewhat difficult trail in white plastic shower sandals, Hawaii shorts and a Marlboro hanging out their mouth. This lovely specimen of a yet-to-grow into manhood adolescent was accompanied by - hmmmh, how should I describe the young lady who decided to come along for the adventure? The bikini fabric that aimed to cover up her skin was pretty much inadequate, mounts of teenage baby fat bubbled over the edge of what can only be described as short shorts and said mount would put every other muffin top to shame.

The lovely white trash couple and several of their friends surprisingly made it up to Arethusa Falls in New Hampshire, but not before taking several smoking breaks and yelling all over the woods. They just really made everyone's day in the wood so special. Somehow I wished that at least one of them would slip and fall into the water or off the falls, and maybe that did happen, but before too long we headed off to another trail where it was pretty certain that the redneck club du jour would not follow us.

Greetings from Franconia, New Hampshire, where Rick, Denise, Michelle, Brian and myself are spending a very nice weekend. Unexpectedly nice, as the weather forecast this week had promised dismal conditions, and for once Mother Nature did a 180 and rewarded me for all my previous bad weather hiking experiences by giving us a wonderful day to hike. Arethusa Falls, one of New Hampshire's tallest waterfalls at 140 feet, is a spectacular place to visit - http://www.northeastwaterfalls.com/waterfall.php?num=34&p=0. A little crowded maybe, as a fairly easy trail leads even the most casual hiker (among them our smoking friends) up the hill. We escaped the crowds for a little while as we climbed up a less traveled side trail, Bemis Brook - a quite steep, but beautiful side trail, which provided some teaser water falls to get us in the mood.

Leaving Arethusa Falls, we zipped, and I mean, zipped, along the Arethusa-Ripley Trail to, yes, you guessed, right, Ripley Falls. The zipping was on account of the fact that the ice cream store at the Willey Hut closes at 5 PM and we really wanted to make it there in time, but we had to stop off at the base of Ripley, just because (it is gorgeous, you know - http://www.northeastwaterfalls.com/waterfall.php?num=336&p=0). We missed the ice cream cut-off by 8 minutes, which did not make us too happy. What was even worse that after dinner when we tried to go the Franconia ice cream store, we again missed the opening hours by 8 minutes. So we ended up at Mac's, the local grocery store, and bought every ice cream container in sight. I feel comatose right now from eating too much of it, only Phoebe (who did not have ice cream) seems to be worse off than I am, she is not even budging.





This past week went by in a jiffy, as usual - first of all I have to report on a new passion of mine - spinning. In order to give my bruised right heel a bit of a break, I hesitantly signed up for a spinning class, and I have to say, I was a bit scared of the whole exercise fearing that I would not be able to sit in a chair for several days and run around with a pillow taped to my derriere. But let me tell you, I LOVE IT. This is phenomenal stuff!! You can absolutely exhaust yourself, bike like crazy, uphill, downhill, with more or less resistance - this is quite the workout. Just call me Spin Meister from now on, will you?

On other exercise-related news, I have been one of newest product testers for Reebok, which forces me to go out and run three times a week, and make sure the sports bra test object does perform the way it is meant to.




A couple of evenings this week were spent on reuniting with my friend John Young, who left Boston and our hospital running group last year to become a medical student, and while he was here for a six-week surgery internship, we had to take him out to our former favorite haunts, the Hill Tavern on Cambridge Street and the Red Hat on Bowdoin.

Other exciting adventures this week included a tour I gave to a group of colleagues from hospitals across town, which included a visit to MGH's Proton Therapy Center, which is a pretty cool place; I had never been there either. First of all, the technology - a cyclotron energizes protons and a gazillion magnets then guide the protons to the tumor that needs to be radiated. This can be done on a very tight area, which is why this technique is used for cancers located near areas that don't take radiation so well, such as your eyes, brain etc. There is also no exit dose as with conventional radiology, which in the case of your brain is a good thing. Aside from the technology, the place looks like a futuristic space ship - reminiscent of "2001 - A Space Odyssey". I kept waiting for HAL to come on and say "This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it."

Alrighty then, game night has commenced. We are on our second round of playing "Sequence" - last night Michelle and I cleaned up, winning four games out of five, and it is now time for me to join, and help defend the title. (http://thehouseofcards.com/retail/sequence.html)

On that note, be well my friends and go, hike some mountains!

pet:)

PS: Denise just informs us that it is good for you to put shea butter on your stomach. Shape Magazine says so, so it has to be right.

#6 Boston - Outrunning the Clouds - July 15 2007

The drive back from upstate New York today certainly provided even an experienced driver with plenty of challenges – Ella and I tried to outrun a super-sized thunderstorm that seemed to accompany us all the way and just when we thought we were ahead of it, the storm clouds caught us again and even the fastest setting on the windshield wipers could not keep up with the bathtubs full of water that kept hitting that little Subaru of mine. Miraculously, the minute we entered Massachusetts, the sun came out and by the time we hit the hub (that is Boston), it was nice, balmy, with a little bit of a breeze, a pretty decent summer night.



I had spent this past weekend in upstate New York, Ithaca to be exact, to attend my cousin Maria’s wedding to a charming young man named David. The festivities started up on Friday night with a rehearsal dinner at the Sheldrake Point Winery located scenically along Cayuga Lake (http://www.sheldrakepoint.com/). You see, Maria’s husband-to-be (actually at the time of this report, he is the husband) is the wine maker at this wonderful winery. Their specialty is Riesling, which happens to be my favorite wine, period. Apparently the lake acts as a heat sink, which is good for them little grapes and makes some nice wines. The food was delish, a wonderful jazz band provided a swell ambience and when the ice wine and vin de paille was served to compliment the deserts, we were in heaven.



The wedding itself took place at Barbara and Frank’s home, tents were erected in the yard, and the barn was prepared for the dance that was to follow the ceremony. Stanley, my favorite dog in the tri-state area, was supervising all activities; after all, at 17 dog years he is a senior member of the household and always has the last word (or bark that is…). A little excitement was added to the ceremony when the groom instructed all 130 attendees to help look for one of the wedding bands, which young Liam, nephew of the bride, had nonchalantly dropped in the grass on his way down the isle. Amazingly enough, the diamond band was found in 30 seconds, and the finder was promised two pieces of wedding cake. It was a lovely ceremony, where the guests were allowed to speak up and give testimonials to the bride and groom, welcome either into various families in attendance, and wish them lots of wedded bliss.



My accommodation of choice was the Rogues Harbor Inn – http://www.roguesharbor.com/ - a historic bed and breakfast built in 1830. It does look a little worn from the outside, but the inside is just as charming as can be, and the innkeeper family was as nice as can be, in particular the lead canine, Daisy, a charming little beagle. The inn received its current name later in the 19th century when the clientele included horse thieves, fugitives and whoever else was up to no good in the area. The inn also can add as its claim to fame that is was a stop for the underground railroad transporting slaves toward their freedom in Canada. It also features a restaurant, which serves some delectable dinners and a very scrumptious breakfast as well.










Diversions were provided in form of a visit to Ithaca (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ithaca%2C_New_York), a lunch at the famous veggie haven, the Moosewood Restaurant - http://www.moosewoodrestaurant.com/ , and of course the gorges. “Ithaca is Gorges”, is the motto one finds plastered on t-shirts and bumper stickers - http://www.ilovenyphotos.com/ithgorges/ithgorges.html - beautiful waterfalls adorn the gulches around Lake Cayuga, and I honestly cannot tell you which gorge we visited, but you’ll see the photos soon nevertheless and it was worth the visit. The Ithaca Commons is a wonderful pedestrian zone with shops, restaurants and funky little stores, so no shortage of divertissements here. The town can boast with a few notable residents including astronomer Carl Sagan, author Alex Hailey, physicist Richard Feynman, actress Mary McDonell, and novelist E.B. White, who wrote Charlotte’s Web.



My friends, I am keeping the write-up short this time, I just saw “Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle” and now I have a hankering for a burger. Gotta Go!

I will hail from New Hampshire next weekend, so talk to you then.



PetJ

#5 Boston - Damn Rocks - July 8 2007

Oh my, I cannot even begin to tell you how tired I am. Only the fact that Metallica is blaring from the stereo keeps me awake to a certain degree today. Oscar is napping right beside me; he does not seem to care too much for heavy metal music. He seems to be needing the nap just as I need it, since yesterday I participated in the most serious monster hike ever done.

I might be exaggerating just a wee bit, but not much. Here is the story – I joined a new hiking group I discovered and ambitiously, with my goal of doing ten of New Hampshire’s 4K mountains each year, I joined them for a triple threat of a hike – Mountains Madison (http://hikethewhites.com/madison.html) , Adams (http://hikethewhites.com/adams.html ) and Jefferson (http://hikethewhites.com/jefferson.html ), three of the so-called Presidentials. In terms of height, they are #2, 3 and 4 on the list of the 48 highest mountains in NH, with Adams coming in at 5774 feet, Madison at 5367 and Jeffferson at 5712. I had done Jefferson two weeks ago – as you may recall in chilly temperatures and winds of a gazillion miles per hour, and had a bit of an idea of what I was getting myself into.

This was a one-day hike, a little less than 14 miles total, and I had decided to drive up to New Hampshire the morning of the event. My new friend Raj, who just moved to Boston two weeks ago from Ohio, had never done any real hiking and thought this might just be a peachy idea, had joined me in our early morning (4 AM) drive up to the Granite State. I had given Raj ample warning about hiking in the Whites, which as you know is no child’s play; the hiking there is strenuous mostly, one has to climb over granite boulders, sometimes on hands and knees, and good preparation is essential. The weather there changes on a dime, and even in summer, our packs are generally filled with winter clothes, rain gear, food and drink for a small army, first aid kits etc. So I took young Raj shopping at REI the night before the hike, rented him some decent equipment for the adventure, and must have not scared him too much as he was still willing to participate in the big event.



We joined our motley crew of hikers at the Appalachia parking lot at 8 AM, and off we went; Mother Nature delighted us with a nice sunny day for the start up the mountains, and led by Mountain Magic (no idea what his real name is, but I have learned since that serious mountaineers of his kind have a “mountain name”) embarked on the hike. Magic certainly is a character, and one gets the feeling he might have actually emerged from these woods at some point (surprisingly he is a Boston native). He boasts a heavy duty Bahwstin accent and a beard that would make any member of ZZ Top jealous, and is accompanied by his pitbull mix Ghost Dog, who is now on his third round of hiking all the 48 4000-footers (Magic is on his 5th round). Other members of the group included Milton, who was an exemplary and very experienced hiking companion and who will be a good friend - that I am sure of. There were other members of the group, who seemed to be happy to be their own little posse, which in hindsight I was glad about, because one of them kept poking me with her trekking poles and was cussing like a sailor, and not in a good way.




We made it up the AMC Madison Springs Hut in good time, but when we arrived the weather conditions already eerily reminded us of Mt Jefferson two weeks ago. The mountain was dipped in a major cloud, the wind whipped the snot right out of you, and at this point we realized that we better get ready for a serious day in the mountains. After Milton, Raj, Maria, Bob and I came back down from the summit, we had a quick lunch, refilled our water and headed off into the clouds to attempt Mt Adams. Just when you thought the wind could not get any tougher, it did – I can honestly say that aside from pre-tornado weather in Oklahoma, I have never been in conditions such as this. After the obligatory summit photo, which you will see next week looks more like a few heads poking out of a fog wall, we quickly hoofed it off there in pursuit of our third peak, Jefferson. For a very short while (five seconds actually), the weather showed improvement and we could actually see the immediate area we were in, but that ended quickly, because now the weather really started. The wind kicked in the turbo, and it was almost impossible to stand up straight, and then the rains kicked in - not a drizzle, RAINS.



Magic, deciding he had enough of this and his malfunctioning rain jacket, decided it best for everyone’s safety to get off the mountain, skip Mt Jefferson and get the hell out of Dodge. Once we heard thunder rumbling, we knew it was the right decision. The hike down the Randolph path (another six miles or so to the car) was not pleasant – by the time we were below the tree line, we were drenched, and hiking became treacherous on account of tons of slippery rocks. We kept our spirits up, and eventually ended up back at the car at 7:40 PM (there were times honestly, when I thought we were hiking the same stretch of forest over and over, and the ordeal would never end). We dried ourselves off and then had to drive back to Boston, so by the time Raj and I got home it was close to midnight, and we were both seriously out of our minds. I still feel as if I am jetlagged and have just come off an overseas flight.



It was an adventure, that is for sure, and I was happy to have very experienced hikers with me, so Winston and Magic deserve a lot of credit. Plus we saw a moose early in the morning as Raj and I were driving down Route 3, saw a guy get handcuffed on the side of the road at 6:30 AM and in the evening a whole group of partying 18-year olds being investigated by police and take the breathalyzer test. Who says New Hampshire is no fun?



Well, that was just one day in the life of Petra – but wait, wait – there is more. Last weekend, I had a lovely hike in the Blue Hills south of Boston (http://www.mass.gov/dcr/parks/metroboston/blue.htm) where one can get a wonderful view of this fair city of ours, especially on such as swell day as this Saturday was. Even better, there were no bugs out, so I arrived at home bite-free and for once did not have to live off Benadryl for several days until the swelling goes down.

Sunday I went to the gym, but also took a class in Ultimate Frisbee, less in game strategy but in my case just some basic lessons on how to throw a Frisbee so that it actually lands in the hands of your partners rather than decapitate plants and small animals. I do need a little more practice, but my coach Christina believes I can now be trusted and allowed to play in a public place.



4th of July – Independence Day – it was nice to have a holiday in the middle of the work week and so I went for my first ever “cookout” (it is not called a barbecue here….) – the dinner group, hosted at Patrick and Ellen’s house in Watertown, got together for some serious grilling and we were actually done stuffing ourselves by the time the rains started, which was in the early evening. We enjoyed the Newton fireworks, which can be seen from the Cooley residence, played the 1990s version of Trivial Pursuit (which was won by yours truly and her partner Ram – we blew the competition away, man!) and ate lots of angel food cake with strawberries. Life was good. That is until I came to my house, and tried to go to bed at 10:30 PM. I had never experienced the fact that I am apparently in very close distance to the Boston Fireworks which take place on the Charles River, and once my house started rattling and vibrating, I knew this was not the time to try to sleep. Good times.



So, it is time for me to head back to the couch, I think a nap is in order. Talk to you soon. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz…….



PetJ

#4 Boston - The Men Are Coming In - June 29, 2007

The men are coming in!
How worried can we women be that a man might see us au naturel? What are they going to see that they have never seen before?
I was in the gym Tuesday morning for a swim, and there is construction going on inside the women's locker room. Now, our gym is really snazzy :) and regularly floods every spring, so the leaks need to be fixed - which means some burly or some not-so-burly men run around the fitness grounds trying to fix things. As I was happily showering away, I hear this voice yelling "The Men are Coming In, the Men are Coming In." This was not a particular big worry for me, actually I was quite intrigued as to what was about to happen, but apparently there are some representatives of my gender, who have resorted to loud screaming and other lily-livered behavior - so now every time the construction guy threatens to enter the dressing room, some poor schlepp (female of course) who works at the gym has to come in, make the announcement and sweep for the squeamish in nature. No comment.

Is this how you get your jollies?
As many of you have experienced I have been known to dazzle my friends with completely-out-of-context statements that I throw into a conversation that has usually nothing to do with what I am about to say. As we were driving home after our hike up Mt Willey in New Hampshire this past weekend, I made the statement "I really like to watch old people eat." An honest statement, which I base on the fact that I often do observe older people eat in cafes or here at the hospital, and they seem so peaceful doing it, no rush, just sitting there with a cup of coffee and the most gigantic piece of chocolate cake known to mankind, and focused on nothing else. Who cares about calories; who cares about anything? Of course this background information was at that time not known to my hiking friends, who promptly asked me "Is this how you get your jollies?" I have no idea what they're talking about.

You must be f*****ing kidding me!
I am not one usually prone to expletives, but that changed last year during one of our power weekends where Rick, Steph, Dan and I hiked Little Haystack, Lincoln and Lafayette on a Saturday; Steph and I followed it with a 9-mile jog, and armed with his extraordinary powers of persuasion, Rick talked me into yet another hiking excursion. I expected a somewhat moderate jaunt through the woods, but that is not how it turned out alltogether. On a particularly steep slope up toward Kedron Flume, I apparently just lost it, and yelled up the hill "You must be f****ing me", which I believe scared my poor friend Rick just a wee bit. Anyway, this past weekend, heading up Sunday to Mt Willey (4302 ft) - yes, we did hike another mountain on Sunday contrary to my predictions Saturday night - it was one steepfest up the mountain, and after climbing up some stairs in the hope the summit may be near, Steph advised me that now would be a good time to use said cuss words as she was planning to do so herself.
It was a splendid day for a hike up Mt Willey, which provided us with spectacular views of Crawford Notch, Mount Washington and the Pemigewassett Wilderness.

Don't believe a word he is saying
Our friend Rick definitely seems to have developed a newfound passion for sending fellow hikers into oblivion. In at least two occasions this weekend, he first optimistically sent slightly malequipped hikers up Mt Jefferson ("it's not that windy anymore!!"),and also pointed a lovely couple in a direction they may have not wanted to go (which made us actually look for them later along Route 302 - of course not before we had gone for ice cream - we do have our priorities). Any other folks we met along the trail were subsequently told by Stephanie that he was lying through his teeth and to not believe a word the man was saying.



The Two Person Book Group
The two-person book of Cooper and Loesch met this week for the first time to discuss a book exploring two generations of women from India ("The Hindi Bindi Club" by Monica Pradhan) by doing a little exploring ourselves - Indian food that is. We dragged ourselves in the Godawful heat we had this week (95 degrees for three days in a row) down to Inman Square and plopped ourselves into a nice air-conditioned booth at Haveli, shared a beer called Flying Horse and ate until we were ready to burst. Of course, one can be as full as can be - there is always room for some Christina's ice cream to top off the evening (http://christinasicecream.com/).

My Apology to the Flip Flop Manufacturers of America (with a caveat)
Well only a temporary one, but yours truly has been seen lately walking the streets of Cambridge with flip-flops on her feet (actually they are Tevas, but some conventional minds might call them flip flops). Reason being is that soft tissue injury I had on my right foot, and armed with my cushiony footwear, walking to work has become extremely bearable and the little heal is healing slowly, but surely. I did attempt a gingerly jog last night, 20 minutes, just a little hop around the neighborhood. The heat this week forced everyone to run for the water, and I did the same, heading for the gym, fins in hand, for a few refreshing laps around the old pool.

A Young Chick, Again
He is the prettiest bird in Cambridge!! Oscar has experienced a physical rebirth of sorts - you see, being the gnarly old bird he is (he is turning 11 on July 5th - calls with chirps are appreciated on our voice mail) he started to grow some extra keratin on his cere (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cere) which looked brown, knurled and twisted, and just not pretty. After a week's application of some frou-frou smelling oil, the ugly blob fell off, and Oscar looks as good as new, and we are very happy with our vet, needless to say.

Enough for tonight - must go to bed. I hope you also enjoyed the pictures I sent earlier.

PetJ

#3 Boston - Botanical Specialties Featuring the Nickity Nack and the Blue Balled Lilly - June 23 07

My friends, you would have loved this one – a hike up Mt Jefferson (http://hikethewhites.com/jefferson.html) in New Hampshire – 5712 feet high (1741 m), in pretty dismal weather (no views whatsoever), scrambling up steep walls (http://www.naturalbornhikers.com/Mountjefferson/mtjeff%20yellow%20blaze.jpg), dinging your knees left and right, completely losing your mind, coming up with Petraisms (also left and right) and still keeping our spirits up – and to top it off along the way admiring botanical sensations – yes we do stop and smell the roses! There really were no roses, but we met some regulars from our staple of New England flora, and again, being affected by altitude sickness and my regular mountain craziness that does set in the minute I am allowed outdoors, I started to promptly butcher their names – the blue-beaded lily became the blue-balled lily, and kinick kinick (http://www.humeseeds.com/kinick1.jpg), a Native American name for the bearberry groundcover (no idea what it was doing up on Mt Jefferson) become the Nickity-Nack. There were some amazingly beautiful sections in the forest that reminded of Fangorn Forest in the Lord of the Rings, and made us feel as we had been transported to a distant land.

Wait until you see the pictures from this outing - up on the summit, the temperature was a balmy 43 degree Fahrenheit (between 5 and 0 degree Celsius - and that is without the wind chill factor) and gale-force winds of close to 60 mph (close to 100 km/h). It was tough to stay vertical and the freakin’ slippery rocks did not improve conditions, AT ALL. It was an adventure of the best kind, and we were actually rewarded on our way down the mountain when said staunch winds blew all the clouds away and provided us with absolutely stunning views of the White Mountains.

As usual I had an attack of silliness, and seemed to be delighted by just the most trifling of events, such as an unexpected and quite joyful reunion with a Tupperware that had been living up in Franconia for quite some time. I also tend to get a little cantankerous on these outdoor events, and a lively discussion ensued at lunch when I claimed that an almond was not a nut (which it isn’t and I was right).

Here we are – Rick, Steph and I, sitting slightly comatose on the couch, trying to figure out how we could possibly hike a 4000-footer tomorrow without putting up any effort whatsoever. (“It’s called an elevator”, Rick just said, and has given numerous hints as to the despicable shape we are in.) None of the hikes still left on the 4000-footer list are easy by any means, and unless we find a miracle recipe to get totally fit and pumped over night, there is NO WAY we are doing a 10-mile hike tomorrow (“We are fit and pumped” Stephanie just said; I have no idea what she is talking about). From the pathetic looks of us, I seriously question if I am even able to go upstairs to my bedroom, I may have to ask for assistance.

Of course, I have an excuse – I have an impediment that can explain my sub-par performance – a bone bruise in my right heel, which I of course, brought on myself by some stupid behavior, such as running 12 miles last Sunday along the Charles River in running shoes that should have been retired some time ago. I don’t know what possessed me to do that, but it was just one of those days when you feel you could tear out trees with your bare hands – which is always a bad sign. One minute you feel like Super Woman and the next you are limping through your living room.

There is not much more to report this week – my office was a revolving door for pharma and biotech companies (5 in three days) and after one more power day this coming Monday, I will be able to come up for air and take more than a couple of cleansing breaths. Summer tends to be a little on the lighter side of things, and I have a couple of great projects planned that I really look forward to.

There was a culinary highlight this week –a visit to the swanky Grill 23 in Boston’s Back Bay (http://www.grill23.com/#Main1) – fabulous New York Steak and some pretty scrumptious desert and ice wine – life was good.

I am now saying adios my friends; the foot massager is waiting, and maybe another glass of cold beer.

Stay tuned from more tales from the mountains.

Love,

PetJ

#2 Boston - Victorious - June 16, 2007

You are looking at the proud winner of this morning’s Trivia Run organized by Community Running’s own Brian Hamill (that would be our coach). My victory had nothing to do with skills of any kind, well maybe a decent amount of intelligence was required to answer some of the questions in the trivia challenge. It had definitely nothing to do with my running speed, which is not the fastest to begin with, and after a wine-infused Friday evening, a bit less enthusiastic than expected. The trivia run was a “everyone-on-their-own” deal, where we had to hustle along the Charles River to different stations answering questions and gathering smiley-face stickers on our bibs (that is if we got the answers right). Different stops offered trivia questions of varying point values and difficulty, so everyone flocked to the “15-point stations” first. Categories ranged from the fairly decent “ local and worldwide geography” to mostly osbcure topics such as the flora and fauna of the British Isles, beer slogans, Ben Stein, The Gilmore Girls, and Freddie Mercury and Queen (my choice). But who the f…. would know a Taiwanese deer that apparently is now rampant in the British countryside? Huh? Not many takers there I have to admit.

Now, the real fun and scoring occurred back at the MIT Student Center, where we congregated after our run. Each runner had their running time listed, and then the attacks started. You see, the “smiley-face” points were penalty points that one could penalize other runners with, and the final winner was the person with the least amount of points (that would be me). I have no idea why I ended up the winner (not that I mind), but let’s just say the fact that Scotty, who did have the most stickers, did not want to be last, and heaped points upon points on poor Vivienne. In his defense I have to say, that Vivienne earlier did some serious damage to Scott’s point spread, so retaliation was definitely in order. There was some foul language during this section of the game, some semi-serious accusations (“That does not surprise me, she is unstable”), but mostly good-natured quips.

What a fun event that was, and the weather was simply beautiful this morning – a nice summer day, not too hot, just right, mid 70s. This sunny day followed two days of Novemberish weather with temperatures in the low 50s, which is really not fun in mid-June. I was at work, mind you, so would have not benefited from nice weather anyway, but, a little sunshine here or there in June is appreciated. Just putting that out there.

What did I want to tell you about? A hike, a German dinner, a theater performance and my performance - my annual performance evaluation that is. It happened this Wednesday and I am happy to report that I did get an “outstanding” rating; my boss is happy with me and I am happy with him. So that’s good.

Theater performance then – my last ushering duty before the summer took place this Thursday at the Lyric Stage Company (where else? This is my favorite Boston theater, as you know). The incomparable, phenomenally talented Kathy St. George played and sang her heart out in “Ladies and Gentlemen, Miss Judy Garland”. What a swell evening that was!! The first half of the play - Judy Garland in her hotel room in London at 2 AM, more than slightly inebriated, trying to record at least one clear thought onto a tape recorder. The hope was that her incoherrent musings would add up to something that could be constructed into a book – from what we could tell that was not going to happen. In part two of the performance, the depressed, confused, lonely Judy Garland kicked in the turbo and transformed into the dazzling performer we expect her to be. If you have never seen Kathy St George perform, put it on your list, she is simply wonderful, and in this particular show she had Garland down pat (http://www.kathystgeorge.com/). A standing ovation was the least the audience could give back to her as a thank you for an enjoyable evening.

This past weekend began with a day of cooking, the dinner group I belong to was scheduled to take place at Casa Petra, and I had promised an evening of German food for those hungry friends of mine. As usual, I had set a slightly overambitious menu, and ended up slaving over some pretty labor-intensive dishes, drive around the Boston area to find a bottle of Kirschwasser (a cherry brandy that is used to soak the Blackforest Cherry Cake) and make Spaetzle over a boiling pot while the guests were guzzling away German wine and beer. It was actually a lot of fun – the menu included Flammenkuchen (a German/Alsacian specialty) – a thin crust pizza dough topped with a mixture of sour cream, egg, cheese, fresh herbs and bacon; the above mentioned Spaetzle (German noodles made from flour, eggs and water) topped with sauteed onions and grated cheese; and four kinds of salads (Cucumber Salad with Joghurt Dill Dressing, Bib Lettuce with Lemon-Sour Cream Dressing; Tomato Salad with Raspberry Vinaigrette, and Carrot-Apple-Almond Salad). For desert I served the previously mentioned Schwarzwaelder Kirschtorte, which is a chocolate spongue cake, soaked in cherry brandy, layered with liberal amounts of whipped cream (also containing brandy) and Amarello cherries. Each slice has about ten million calories, but since there is so much alcohol in it, you really stop caring after a few bites.

Something had to be done to restore balance in that body of mine, so it was off to the mountains on Sunday – Mount Monadnock to be exact. Located in Southern New Hampshire, it has as its claim to fame that is is apparently the second most climbed mountain the world, right after Mt Fuji, and arriving at the summit, which always seems to feature enough people to host a convention with, it does not seem that far fetched of a claim. Most of the “conventioneers” arrive via the White Cross Trail, which seems to be the easiest way up to the top. Our route led us up the longest route possible, the Pumpelly Trail, which after a few slightly challenging sections leads to a wonderful ridge trail marked by rock cairns and beautiful views. Monadnock summits at about 3100 feet (965 m), and is pretty much on its own, away from other mountains. Apparently its name, Monadnock, is a geological term for a so-called “inselberg”, an isolated mountain. It has been a favorite for our literary friends David Henry Thoreau and Ralf Waldo Emerson, who liked to muse about it, and in particular for Herman Melville, who compared Moby Dick’s hump to the mountain.

We hiked about 8.6 miles roundtrip and did some pretty decent time, about 4.5 hours total, and only slight damages occurred when I zipped down a particularly slippery section, and dinged up my right elbow, which now features a nice yellow-green halo around it, and once in a while still pinches a bit. The struggles of us weary hikers were rewarded with a nice dinner (which also celebrated my 3-year anniversary in our fair city) at Boston’s premier steak house, Abe and Louie’s - http://www.bbrginc.com/AL/1.html) and needless to say after a nice piece of Filet Mignon and a glass of Malbec, I was ready to hit the hay quickly. Life was good.

That would be it for my report this week. Enjoy your weekends, talk to you soon.

Pet:)

#1 Boston - Keebler's Steak House - June 8, 2007

Well, now Chicago also knows about Petra-isms, in particular the bellhop at the Downtown Hyatt Regency, who I approached with a spring in my step, asking for a cab to take me to Keebler's Steak House. The young man looked at me with a pitiful glance, and said "Young woman, Keebler is a cookie. Keefer's is the steak house." I blushed a little, hoped in the cab, hoping that a quick escape would mask my embarrassment and told the cabbie to step on it before further clumsiness could take place. Looking back at the evening, I was actually glad that Keefer's culinary fare did provide hefty portions of dead meat for us non-vegetarians, as the conference had left me with an unamusing protein deficit - while Chicago is just a swell city and has the best food around, its conference center seems to have been out of touch both in time and place - 1950s, Eastern Europe are the first two thoughts that come to mind. Cavernous, concrete charm, with only limited places to sit down or get a decent bite to chow. After my first day's meal which consisted of the most anemic chicken noodle soup ever made, semi-wilted green salad with croutons (everything else at the "salad bar" looked more than suspicious) and a yoghurt for the exorbitant price of $12.50, I pretty much had it. Option Number 2 would have been to go to Starbucks and load up on coffee cake or to the adjacent Hyatt Regency, where two salads and two sodas put $29 on your credit card bill. There were of course numerous food stands with hot dogs, burgers, fries, chili, Reuben sandwiches, pizza and other artery-hardening goodies - nothing appropriate for that little sensitive stomach of mine. So I started bringing in trail mix, fruits, granola bars from the deli next to my hotel, which worked out just fine.

The steak at Keefer's (http://www.keefersrestaurant.com/index.html ), by the way, was absolutely phenomenal, and apparently even Playboy Magazine's Good Restaurant Guide (did you know that there was such a thing?) praised it to the high heavens. Phenomenal were also some of the other meals I had in Chicago - Nacional 27 you know about of course, which alongside Arola on top of the Hotel Arts in Barcelona (http://www.ritzcarlton.com/en/Properties/Barcelona/Default.htm ) has to be my favorite restaurant in the world. The Frontera Grill and Topolobampo (http://www.fronterakitchens.com/restaurants/restaurants.html ) -joined at the hip on North Clark Street are culinary gems worth exploring if you are latin-inclined - celebrity chef Rick Bayless dishes up Mexican food of the finest variety; I can honestly say that this was a more than pleasant experience for the palate.

ASCO, the conference I attended in the windy city, is a circus in itself, more than 30,000 attendees flock the halls of the McCormick Convention Center, all appear tired, broken down with a vacant look on their faces, jet lagged, overwhelmed with information thrown at them. ASCO has to be attacked with a plan; one cannot simply do everything that is interesting; there is just too much of it. The first day is homework, grab the program that weighs about 400 pounds, and come up with a schedule that makes sense for both mind and body, in particular the feet which have to walk along these concrete halls for extensive distances (2.2 million square feet of space to be exact). My destinations are the exhibit halls and the poster sessions, the realms that companies, eager and willing to talk to us, inhabit - comfy shoes are key; and a plan of action is essential. The good news is that after three years of doing this, it is less a matter of finding new connections, but fostering existing ones, checking in, greasing the wheels, get stuck deals unstuck. I enjoy this, I really do, and I am starting to see the results of my efforts.

Aside from walking to business dinners and an occasional jog along Lakeshore Drive in the AM, there was no time for exploring Chicago - so I will add a few tidbits I researched for you. If you have never been there, Chicago is a beautiful town; it has a little New York feel to it, but seems more open and is much cleaner. Beautiful architecture. It has about three million inhabitants (third largest city in the US), has two baseball teams (the Cubs and the White Sox), a football team (Da Bears!!!!), and of course, a very famous basketball team, the Chicago Bulls. It is located on majestic Lake Michigan (which Wikipedia tells me is just a tad larger than Croatia), and is not only known as "The Windy City", but also as "Second City", Chi-Town. The 312, "The City that Works" and the "City of Big Shoulders". The latter stems from a poem of American writer Carl Sandburg "Chicago", which I have attached for your reading pleasure. Its actual name supposedly stems from the Miami-Illinois language - Shikaakwa, which means wild leek, which is of course something all of us immediately associate when we think of Chicago.

Famous Chicagoans include politicians such a Hillary Rodham Clinton, Barak Obama, Deval Patrick (Massachusetts' current governor); athletes Michael Jordan, Mike Ditka, Sammy Sosa; musicians Benny Goodman, Miles Davis, Herbie Hancock, Buddy Guy, Muddy Waters, Chaka Kahn; actors Bill Murray, John Belushi (Cheeseburger, cheeseburger, no coke, Pepsi....), John and Joan Cusack, Steve Carrell, Harrison Ford, Hugh Hefner, Bernie Mac - the list is endless. Architects Mies van der Rohe and Frank Lloyd Wright, Mr Walt Disney, columnist Ann Landers, author Irving Wallace are native to Chicago, and our list would not be complete without a few criminals thrown in, such as Al Capone, John Dillinger, Ted Kaczynski - the Unabomber, and Jack Ruby (who killed Lee Harvey Oswald).

A few more fun facts - apparently the world's longest street is in Chicago (Western Avenue - no clue as to how long), the post office at 433 West Van Buren is the only post office in the world which you can drive a car through. Chicago has a most charming zoo, the Lincoln Park Zoo, which is free. The Harold Washington Library is the world's largest library. Playboy started in Chicago in 1953. A Chicago firm, RS Ownes, manufacturers the ever popular Oscar statues. A few firsts - Adler Planetarium (first one in the Western Hemisphere); air travel (first commercial air passenger), atomic reaction (University of Chicago), Ferris wheel (1893), steel-frame skyscrapers, softball, Schwinn bicycles, zippers, Cracker Jacks, Butterfinger, Dunkin' Donuts, McDonalds, bifocal contact lenses, and of course,The Twinkie. Keebler (remember?) is located here, and so is Nabisco. The city has 54 museums, 21,000 restaurants, more than 200 theaters, three of the world's largest buildings and 15 miles of bathing beaches.

And apparently its name "Windy City" has nothing to with the weather either (even though it does tend to be windy there), it was coined in 1893 by Charles Dana of the New York Sun who got fed up with Chicago's politicians long-winded boasting of the city's Columbian Exposition.

Before I say goodbye, let me say I am happy to be back in the lovely town of Cambridge, Massachusetts - there are no immediate plans for air travel anywhere. This week I celebrated my 3rd year anniversary in the Boston area - still very happy about my choice. Oscar just chirped in the kitchen, saying he agrees wholeheartedly.

PetJ
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On that note, I'll leave you with something to giggle about:

Boston and Chicago apparently are related in more ways than one, so here is a set of rules from Chicago concerning life style and traffic, most of them could easily be applied to Boston with a few minor modifications.
If your road map is more than a few weeks old, throw it out and buy a new one. If in Naperville and your map is one day old, then it is already obsolete.
Forget the traffic rules you learned elsewhere. Chicago has its own version of traffic rules... "Hold on and pray." There is no such thing as a dangerous high-speed chase in Chicago. We all drive like that.

All directions start with, "I94".… which has no beginning and no end.
The morning rush hour is from 6 to 10. The evening rush hour is from 3 to 7. Friday's rush hour starts Thursday morning.
If you actually stop at a yellow light, you will be rear ended, cussed out and possibly shot. When you are the first one on the starting line, count to five when the light turns green before going to avoid crashing with all the drivers running the red light in cross-traffic.
Construction on Northwest Tollway is a way of life and a permanent form of entertainment. We had sooooo much fun with that we have added Elgin O'Hare and I-355 to the mix.
All unexplained sights are explained by the phrase, "Oh, we're in Cicero!"
If someone actually has their turn signal on, it is probably a factory defect. Car horns are actually "Road Rage" indicators. All old ladies with blue hair in Mercedes have the right of way. Period.
First Ave, LaGrange Rd, NW Highway all mysteriously change names as you cross intersections (these are only a FEW examples).
If asking directions in Cicero you must have knowledge of Spanish. If in Bridgeport, Mandarin Chinese will be your best bet. If you stop to ask directions on the West or South side you better be armed.
A trip across town (east to west) will take a minimum of four hours, although many north/south freeways have unposted minimum speeds of 75. The minimum acceptable speed on the Dan Ryan is 85. Anything less is considered downright sissy.
The wrought iron on windows near Englewood and Austin is not ornamental.

The Congress expressway is our daily version of NASCAR. The Dan Ryan is called "The Death Trap" for two reasons: "death" and "trap."
If it's 100 degrees, it's Taste of Chicago. If it's 10 degrees and sleeting/snowing, it's opening day at Comiskey Park. If it's rained 6 inches in the last hour, the Western open Golf Classic is in the second round.
If you go to the Wrigley Field pay the $25.00 to park at the "Cubs Lot." Parking elsewhere could cost up to $2500 for damages, towing fees, tickets, etc.
If some guy with a flag tries to get you to park in his 'yard', run over him.