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the end of the millenniumdecember 31palm beach, floridaIt is the last day of millennium — no pseudo-intellectual arguments, please — and all is well. It is the day of the big party. And what a party! I would tell you about it, but if you weren't there, I don't want to make you jealous. (And if you were there, I already promised I wouldn't tell!) december 30palm beach, floridaToday is cooking day. The family is assembled — Randy & Alison, Paul & his friend, Tracie, Jack & Sylvia, Sylvia's sister, Nickie, Dan Chandler & Liza Sachs, Mom & Larry, and the four of us. Today is our team's day to do the cooking. (In addition to ourselves, our team includes Paul, Tracie, Dan, and Liza.) The menu begins with shrimp, both shrimp cocktail and cocoanut fried. The main course is a seven-rib standing rib roast accompanied by twice-baked potatoes, and the wine, a velvety zinfandel. december 27palm beach, floridaDark glasses in place to cover my still-swollen eyes, Suzie, the boys, and I arrive in Palm Beach for the big Millennium Celebration at Mom & Larry's house. As we disembark the aircraft, I can already feel the sunshine. It is eighty degrees here, and I am feeling better already. december 26coventry, rhode islandWell, this silly allergy just won't quit. Now, I can't even open my eyes. So, it's off to the emergency room. After a couple of shots, the swelling is coming down, and I am released. Looking less like the Elephant Man albeit a bit more like Quasimodo, I return home. The family is coming over again because Barry & Elaine Shea and their family are coming down from New Hampshire. december 25 — merry christmas!houston, texasKirstin and Travis are engaged! Congratulations! coventry, rhode islandThe whole family is here to celebrate, and once again, Santa Claus was very good to us. Unfortunately, my body isn't being very good to me. You see, starting last week I've been getting this weird allergic reaction to something. Each day a different part of my body seems to swell up, and today, it's my head! In fact, I could easily be mistaken for the Elephant Man. The good news is that it doesn't hurt. december 18coventry, rhode islandToday is one of our favorite days of the year, the day of our annual Christmas party. We get to enjoy nearly all of our friends, even those we no longer have the pleasure of seeing regularly during the year. december 14houston, texasHappy Birthday, Michael! december 10warwick, rhode islandHappy Birthday, Jessie! december 9coventry, rhode islandDad and Dolores arrive for some pre-holiday visiting. Grandpa' Jimmy was supposed to join them, but at the last minute, he had to call it off for health reasons. december 6coventry, rhode islandHappy Birthday, Andrew! december 2coventry, rhode islandHappy Birthday, James! november 25 — happy thanksgiving!seattle, washingtonDad and Paul joined my brother Randy and his wife Alison at their new house for Randy and Alison's first Thanksgiving together. Talk about trial by fire! palm beach, floridaMom and Larry spent the holiday entertaining — what a surprise — friends at home. coventry, rhode islandToday the Rhode Island Adamolis joined the local clan at the home of Jack & Colleen Flynn for a sumptuous and traditional holiday feast. I may never eat again. Unfortunately, Jack spent the whole day in bed with the flu. november 24coventry, rhode island
Today, James completed his kindergarten reading program and will start on the first grade program on Monday. november 11irvine, californiaHappy Birthday, Kerry!november 9oak ridge, tennesseeHappy Birthday, Cassie!november 8houston, texasHappy Birthday, David and Megan!november 6fort wayne, indianaCongratulations to Kenny and Kim on their wedding day!november 5seattle, washingtonHappy Birthday, Randy!october 9houston, texasHappy Birthday, Paul!september 17houston, texasEveryone is doing as well as can be expected after the passing of my Grandma' Ruthie last Saturday. A memorial service was held here in Houston on Wednesday. It was a beautiful service, and the whole family was appreciative of the large turn-out and the heartfelt remembrances. On Saturday, some of us will accompany Grandma to Las Vegas for the burial. september 11houston, texas
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august 21boston, massachusettsIt is Saturday, the morning after. Mom and Larry head for Cape Cod and points north. Despite the continuing rain, the rest of us decide to spend an otherwise dreary day running around Boston. We drive the cars as far as Braintree, a suburb just outside Boston and the southern most point of the Red Line. (The "Red Line" is one of Boston's subway routes. In Boston, the subway is referred to as the "T.") Our first stop is Quincy Market and Fanuil Hall. After stuffing our faces on food selected from several of the hundreds of vendors, we brave the elements for a brisk walk by the Boston Common, the Public Gardens, "Cheers" — known to us locals as The Bull & Finch Pub — and along the Esplanade beside the Charles River. Hungry, exhausted, and cold, we reboard the T for the short ride to Harvard Square in Cambridge. We mill about The Coop (the Harvard/MIT bookstore) for a while before straggling into a local pub. I don't recall the new name, but it used to go by 33 Dunster. After a bit of sustenance, we head back home. Sadly, the party is over, and everyone must return to their lives in the morning. |
 Uncle Randy reads to James, Nicholas, and Nick on the "T" as we ride beneath Boston. |
august 20coventry, rhode island
The bar is set up. The lights are on. The torches are lit. Now all we need for our garden party is ... RAIN! I can't remember the last time we had a cold, rainy day in August, but here it is. (Since Kerry had to leave before the party, I with forever more term August rain "Kerry's Revenge.") Fortunately, the tent doesn't leak, and by passing around a few sweaters and windbreakers (and a lot of alchohol) we manage to stay warm. |
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august 19martha's vineyard, massachusettsKathy and Mom take the boys to Tim and Pam's house for a morning dip in the pool, while Randy picks his wife Alison up at the airport. With her arrival on the "red-eye" from Seattle, we reach our peak of eight houseguests (plus Dad and Dolores at a nearby inn). Added to the four of us, it feels more like a dormitory than a house, and with all the carousing going on, the effect is complete. Upon regrouping at around 11:00 a.m., we head for New Bedford, Massachusetts to catch the ferry to Martha's Vineyard for the afternoon. It takes three cars to get us all there. Because of the ferry schedule, we don't have much time on the island. Still, we spend an enjoyable few hours hurriedly walking and busing our way from Vineyard Haven, where the ferry docks, to Oak Bluffs, where we tour the gingerbread houses and see the oldest carousel in the country, then on to Edgartown for a well deserved respite and a cold martini. We head back to the ferry docks via the airport just as the Clintons are arriving and make it off the island just in the nick of time. Famished upon our return to New Bedford, we take over a hole-in-the-wall pizza joint for an hour or so before journeying back to Rhode Island. (We literally filled the place. We grouped every little table they had into one long table, and I think they even had to come up with a chair or two from the back room.) |
 James with Dad and Dolores on the Ferry to Martha's Vineyard.
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Today we add to the group my brother Paul, my sister Kathy, and her son Nicholas, another three-year-old. Dad and Dolores arrive as well, but we won't see them until tomorrow.
Well, it's official. I am for— I mean, thirty-ten years old today. To celebrate we go to one of my favorite seafood restaurants in downtown Providence, Hemenway's. I am joined by Mom & Larry, Kerry, and my wife.
Happy Birthday, Pam Shea!
The crowd begins to build. Today, my brother Randy, cousin Kerry Drake, and step-father Larry Chandler arrive.
august 14narragansett, rhode islandTogether with Mom, we head to Narragansett for a clambake at Philip & Lisa Urso's beach house. Nicky is convinced the lobster is a dinosaur—but eats it anyway. Philip is Suzie's former boss. The Ursos have this clambake every year. We've been to the last two. It's always a huge crowd and a terrific time. |
 James jumping the waves in Narragansett with his grandmother.
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Well, as my wife says, "It's Friday the 13th, so your mother must be coming to visit." Because my wife is never wrong, I head to the airport with James and Nick. Lo and behold, mother's plane is right on time.
Nancy and Larry Chandler have joined Ruthie and Bud Smoot at the spectacular Broadmoor in Colorado Springs for a few rounds of golf. No official word yet on who's picking up the bar tabs, but Mom is complaining about how expensive everything is.
Happy Birthday, Grandma' Ruthie!
Happy Birthday, Mom!
We are in the middle of a sweltering heat wave here in Rhode Island. (It almost feels like Houston!) Because we are the only ones in the local family with central air, the Independence Day activities will be held here—we think. During a morning thunderstorm, our power went out. That was two hours ago.
After panicking, and letting Colleen and Jack know we were moving the party to their house—no air, but at least they still had power—the gods smiled down from the heavens and restored our juice. Plans for the festivities have been switched back to our place.
After dark, we pull out the bug spray and head for the point. [The point is actually a penninsula on the small lake known as Johnson's Pond that borders our neighborhood. The point is jointly owned by the neighborhood residents and is a great place from which to view fireworks.]
Although there is quite a crowd, James manages to work his way to the front for an unobstructed view at the water's edge. Nicky, usually the more adventuresome of the two, hangs back a few yards with Mom and Dad. Nicky is excited but somewhat apprehensive about the fireworks. During the display, he runs from his brother to his grandfather to his parents and back. He is terrifically proud of his bravery—and so scared he is shaking. (We will hear him talking about the fireworks for weeks to come.)
Happy Birthday, Alison!
Happy Birthday to my wife, Suzie.
Pam Johnson weds Tim Shea (finally) in Narragansett. (Pictures to follow.)
For
the past week, the family has been keeping their collective fingers crossed for 4-year-old
Zachary Stuart, my cousin Kim's younger son. At a ballpark where his older brother was
playing baseball, Zach somehow had a terrible accident which severed his left index
finger.
We are all relieved to hear that following an 8 hour reattachment surgery,
his doctors have assured us that he will keep the finger.
may 6He's only 9 years old and is already 4'11.
Alison Purbaugh agrees—for reasons unknown—to wed my brother Randy in a beautiful ceremony in Houston. It is great to see old friends and family and just hang out at the Houstonian for a few days. (See pictures of James and Kayla in the Pictures section.)
It is just now the morning of the first day of our Florida vacation, and neither Suzie nor I are even nearing time for sleep. Fortunately, the boys have been unconscience for some time, and at least on this particular night, they don't appear to be wakeful. Suzie is doing laundry, and I have made of goal of finishing the night's work and getting to bed before 3:30 a.m. I'll pack in the morning—later in the morning.
Neither Suzie nor I remember the alarm going off at six o'clock, but our well-rested children wake us by seven. It is a bit of a mad dash. The whole household is bolting in different directions. Nanny is going to spend her respite visiting her daughter's family in Buffalo, Peg is packing up and leaving for Boston with several boxes of mail—she has come down for a few days to help me put out a mass mailing for Siemens—and Suzie and I are feverishly trying to get the family packed and on the road to the airport. Of course, we are late.
Peg has already moved out of the guest room, so I use that room to pack, staying out of everyone's way. "Where are my socks?" I call.
"I don't know where your socks are, and what's more, I don't care," the reply rings from the other room. "I have to pack for three. Can't you take care of yourself?" Then she adds, more softly, as I knew she would, "Check downstairs in the laundry." Pouting, I resolve to buy all new socks in Florida.
I hate packing for vacation. For business trips, I have it down to a science. I can set the alarm for a little over an hour before the scheduled departure time of my flight and make it without breaking a sweat—and the airport is over twenty minutes away.
Knowing where we'll be in a few more hours, as we leave the house, I am secretly pleased that it's starting to snow—not enough to slow our departure, but enough to make me savor even more that fact that we are, indeed, departing. After countless trips with a departure time of "dark a.m.," we have planned well this time, and leave at the nearly decent hour of 9:30 a.m.
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ruth
marie adamoli
Tonight
is the night of the party. Yesterday, the caterer put up the tent and arranged the tables
and chairs. Today, the torches go up around the yard, and the food arrives.
