“May the course be with you”

Life Lesson Learned: If you think it’s a fun idea to play mini golf for Father’s Day, so will everyone else

Mini golf has been a summer pastime for my family for as long as I can remember. There are plenty of courses we’ve tried over the years (including the now abandoned one a short walk from my parents’ house. Such a shame!), but nothing has ever really compared to our go-to at Geneva-on-the-Lake (GOTL for short). Allison’s Mini Golf, which opened in 1924, prides itself on being the oldest miniature golf course in the U.S. in continuous play, which is pretty cool if you think about it! In fact, we (and so many other golfers I’m sure) have countless photos of the sign showcasing this fact. Bragging rights, perhaps? 

The course itself may not be the most exciting in the country, but it’s fun, just challenging enough, and…almost as important as the first two perks…it’s well-shaded. GOTL can be a rather sunny strip and when you’re visiting during the peak of summer, the last thing you want? To have the big ball of fire in the sky frying you to a crisp while you’re trying to get a hole-in-one. I suspect this is one of the many reasons the course has grown in popularity over the years, as the only other one available in the area is one of those shadeless locations guaranteed to leave you with some layer of sunburn.

 

For all of these reasons, Allison’s has been a family tradition for us for a long time. But this year we decided to do something a little different and hit up GOTL for Father’s Day. Somehow this has never happened before, and not just for the six years I was living in New Jersey. My mom said she didn’t think many dads would be mini golfing for the holiday, making it the perfect day to go, especially combined with the ideal summer weather. 

As it turns out, everyone seemed to have the same great idea! It. Was. Busy. The sidewalks alone were packed with people, probably the most I’ve ever seen on a visit there. At this point I think we all expected the mini golf course to be bustling, yet I was still surprised to see families sitting around and waiting for their turn to even start on the first hole. Crazy! 

Thankfully, the wait time wasn’t as bad as it looked. Equally surprising was the fact that we never once felt rushed by the group behind us (which can happen even on less busy days), nor did we have a wait between each hole. 

As always, it was a good time and a great way to celebrate Father’s Day…even if I was only one stroke over a tie for the win!

Life Lesson Learned: You better like the person with whom you’re playing mini golf…or it’s going to be a long game.

Given my long love of mini golf as described above, it should come as no surprise that I was thrilled to find I could still play the game in NYC at Pier 25. My first time there was with my friend/former colleague on a sunny August day. My initial impression of the course was that it was….crowded. Very, very crowded. 

There was a wait to play the first hole. Then a wait to play the next hole. And the next…You get the picture. I suspect part of this was that each hole wasn’t very challenging, at least in my opinion, as there were few obstacles to be found. You would think this meant that things moved quickly, but that was not the case. We would get through each hole quickly, then have to wait around for the next to be free. Thank God there were some trees providing shade, though I do remember roasting in the sun at times. 

While I wasn’t overly impressed by the actual course (spoiled by Allison’s, I’m sure!), it did have one thing going for it: the view! Its location on the pier meant you could enjoy looking at the Hudson River (and beach volleyball, if that’s your cup of tea), while you waited for your turn. 

Based on my personal review of the place, you’d think I probably had no intention of ever going back (especially when it took us 90 minutes to complete the course)…but you’d be wrong! Years later it seemed like the perfect spot for both a date and a “hanging out with a random person I met through a friendship website” meet up. I feel like mini golf is a low-stress and casual way to spend time with someone you don’t know very well yet. Or so I thought…

Evidently I had forgotten that the regular summer crowds at Pier 25 meant a long waiting time as you made your way through the course. Not a big deal if you’re playing with someone you know well; super awkward (at least at first) if it’s someone you’ve just met or only dated a few times. You’ll want to carry on a conversation between each hole while you fiddle around with your ball so as not to come across as rude or antisocial, but you don’t want to play 20 questions just to fill any moments of silence. Not to mention, once you do get involved in a chat, you may suddenly have to drop the current convo to focus on your swing as soon as you’re up to putt. (At least for the multi-tasking challenged like me). It’s an interesting social “experiment” to say the least. 

I remember having pleasant experiences both times, and by the end of the course, you felt some kind of connection over the mutual experience of trying not to embarrass yourself by sending your ball into the river or into the back of some kid’s thigh while sweating from the Manhattan heat. 

So while I got lucky with my mini golf acquaintances…you have to wonder, how do you survive a 90-minute-long course with someone that turns out to be a complete weirdo? 

Curious Critters

It doesn’t matter where I am…if there’s wildlife to be seen, you bet I’m going to snap a photo!

Life Lesson Learned: Bird feeders are deer magnets

As a teenager, my family and I used to joke that I had what we like to call “deer-dar.” Whenever we would go to a park, I had some kind of weird “sense” as to when a deer was present in the vicinity and, like a compass finding North, could quickly figure out where to look. (Good thing I’m not a hunter!) I’ve always loved seeing deer, so it was rather exciting that my “spidey senses” were in tune to finding them. 

It’s likely that Snow White-esque “gift” weakened when I moved into a city, but I did see a fair share of deer in NJ…despite being just outside of Manhattan. In fact, there were multiple occasions where I spotted deer (and a couple of fawns!) wandering along the forest’s edge while I waited to catch the light rail train on my commute home from work. It put a smile on my face!

 So imagine my delight when just a couple of weeks after moving into my new house, I discovered I was in prime deer territory. I remember sitting in my office plugging away at the day’s to-do’s when I received a motion alert from my Ring camera. I was shocked to see it was because a young buck had made his way across the yard.

Curious if he had stuck around, I poked my head out of the room and saw him chowing down at my new bird feeder just feet from my living room window. Amazing! Dobby, whose cage was parked next to the window, had a front row seat to the action and appeared frozen in time. I can’t imagine how intimidating that must have been for the little guy! Snape was asleep at the time (in typical cat fashion), but I pulled him out of bed and stood in the hallway with him, hoping he’d notice the massive animal in our yard. It took him a minute, then he sat in the hallway next to me watching in awe.

A week or two later, I had finished up with breakfast when my Ring had an alert again. He (now nicknamed Bambi) was back! This time I was able to stand in the living room to watch him help himself to the birdseed, and even managed to record a video. The hilarious part? Snape was asleep in the chair next to the window and would have missed the entire thing had I not nudged him in that direction.

Both visits made my entire day! Although I do have a “mini forest” behind my house, I certainly never expected deer to be frequent visitors in this neighborhood. Did my easily accessible birdhouse boost my luck of Bambi stopping by? Sure seems that way!

Unfortunately, that second visit appeared to be the last. I was so disappointed and kept hoping to catch him grabbing breakfast one morning!

Fast forward to a week ago: I was grabbing Dobby’s nightly veggies before bed when my Ring went off. “What would set it off this late?” I thought. I opened my Ring alert to find it was…a deer! Sadly, she was gone by the time I peeked outside, but I was so tickled to have one stop by again. I’ve already named this one Clarice…unless she turns out to be another Bambi, that is! 

Though I have yet to catch her during the day (more shy than Bambi, perhaps?) she did come back again a few days later during the wee hours of the morning for some zoomies in my yard. That was a fun video to watch! 

Life Lesson Learned: Central Park squirrels like KFC

Once my parents and I moved away from backyard barbecues for summer holidays, we decided to start having picnics at local parks instead. We’d either grill up some hotdogs or sausages to eat alongside picnic favorites, or bring something like KFC to enjoy. 

When I moved to the greater NYC area, I wanted to keep the tradition alive somehow, even if it was just me. Grilling up hotdogs (other than using the George Foreman grill in my apartment) was impractical…though I’m sure Central Park go-ers have found a way to do so! So I went with option #2: grabbing some fast food. A few Christmases ago, my mom gifted me a super cute (and practical) picnic backpack. The back portion of the backpack was insulated to keep foods hot or cold, and it even came with a blanket that could be rolled up and carried along with the bag itself. So clever! (Prior to this, I used to just throw everything into a large bag and carry my purse along with it too. It was a lot to handle!) 

I spent many summer holidays (and plenty of non-holiday occasions too), enjoying lunch from under a shaded tree in Central Park. I’d chow down, then usually read, listen to music or simply people watch. It was incredibly relaxing and, surprisingly, one of my favorite NYC activities. (When you love parks and nature, you’ll love them anywhere!) 

Some of my park lunches:

On one occasion, I opted to grab KFC for my lunch. After choosing the perfect spot in the park, I laid out my checkered blanket, sat down with the tree supporting my back and began diving into the deep-fried goodness. Not long into my meal, however, someone started to get a bit too nosey. 

No, not a group of tourists who had no sense of personal space and camped out next to my spot (yes, that happened on more than one occasion). It was a curious gray squirrel.  A curious gray squirrel who wanted my potato wedges.

I’ve encountered my fair share of hungry critters over the years, but craving some KFC wedges (RIP)? That was a new one. I snapped a few photos of the little guy so I could have some proof later, then tossed some pieces of potato his way. Unsurprisingly, he gobbled them up like it was the best thing he had ever eaten. It was adorable…until he was so captivated by the smell that he got what had to have been a foot away from me. He probably would have taken off with the whole box if I had let him. Forget Pizza Rat. He would have been KFC Squirrel! 

I can’t remember if his persistence caused me to find a new spot to chill or if he had finally given up when the box was empty and moved on to find dessert elsewhere. Hopefully the latter! Either way, it was definitely one of my most memorable Central Park moments! 

Maybe not as…unique…as being approached by a Hare Krishna member in the park when my mom was visiting the city with me, but certainly more adorable. 

A Year in Review

Before moving onto more regular updates, I wanted to do a round-up of some of the most notable things I’ve learned in the last year since moving back to Ohio. 

Without further ado, let’s get started! 

Life Lesson: Finding a decent apartment…or any apartment…in Northeast Ohio is like finding a needle in a haystack

After accepting my job in 2015, I wrote an entry about the horrors of trying to secure housing for my relocation to NJ. It was anything but a picnic, though it did work out in the end. 

This time around, I had the luxury of being able to move back into my parents’ house rather than having to find a new place to stay right off the bat. But I was also aware that inventory in my Ohio county is scarce. So when I saw that one of the “luxury” apartment complexes in my hometown had posted online that a two bedroom unit was available, I was beyond ecstatic. I happily called the number to get more information only to find out that though there were about to be some vacancies as advertised, there was also a waitlist. Obviously, I asked them to add me to it, filled out a general application and went back to focusing on the actual move. 

Then I waited. Weeks later, another apartment that was slightly more expensive (though still no more than my prior NJ rent) was posted as becoming available at the end of the month. I called again to schedule a tour, only to be told that there was still a waitlist ahead of me. Seriously? You’d swear I was trying to get into a luxury building outside of Central Park in NYC. 

I moved on and began looking at apartments in a city 30 minutes away (where I was initially considering moving), but there was a slight issue…I was without a license. (More on that later!) I didn’t want to move so far away from my parents without any way to get around, so I told myself I couldn’t move there until I was able to drive on my own.

It didn’t matter. Vacancies were hard to come by there too, and anything that was left…appeared to be vacant for a reason. (No AC? No thank you. No more window units for me! ). When one popped up online in July with a November (yes, November) vacancy, I gave them a call. It had just been rented out. 

My heart sunk. Yet another call to the first “luxury” apartment ended in the same, “Oh there’s a waitlist” conversation. Spoiler alert: It’s been a year…still never heard back from them.  My parents and I still laugh about it and roll our eyes in equal measure. 

Not that I was miserable at my parents’ or anything. But most of my belongings were tucked away in a storage unit, my cat was driving us all bananas and we knew eventually it was inevitable that I was going to have my own place to live again. Just…who knew that was going to be so difficult?

So…I bought a house.

Problem solved! 

Life Lesson Learned: House hunting is incredibly overwhelming

Before the apartment hunt was hitting complete roadblocks, my mom had actually suggested the idea of me getting a house instead. At the time it seemed far too daunting for me…houses are so much work! I wasn’t even interested in renting a house at the time. 

But when the apartment market was an absolute dog fight, I knew I had little choice. 

So I dove into the other market that was as equally crazy last summer: house hunting. 

To say I had no idea what I was doing was an understatement. When I connected with a listing agent to tour a condo in town, she asked me “Are you FHA or conventional?” and my first internal response was “Huh?”…I knew I was in trouble.

Needless to say that particular option didn’t pan out, but I was able to do more research, get a pre-approval letter from my bank and at least feel like I was one step closer to buying a house. 

I had high hopes for one that was just a street over from my parents; online it looked promising. Plus, on one drive past the house, my dad and I spotted a wild rabbit in the front yard. My whole family jokingly declared that it “was a sign” it was meant to be as I had just become a rabbit owner weeks earlier. Sadly, it was clear within seconds of being inside the house during the tour that the former rental needed a lot of TLC. Oh well. 

The next was a condo that looked like it had potential. Gorgeous interior, spacious and hey, I didn’t have to do any lawn maintenance! Win, win, win. 

After a stressful back-and-forth with my lender to get things prepared for the offer deadline, everything came to a halt when I found that the HOA didn’t allow “livestock animals” like rabbits. Welp. Another one bites the dust. 

People around the country are spending months house hunting and having offer after offer turned down, yet I was already feeling defeated. Silly, I know. 

Then the next Friday, a small ranch just behind my old elementary school went up for sale. The second I toured it I thought, “Yeah, I can see myself here!” 

Thankfully, my flexibility with moving (as I was still living at home with my parents) was appealing to the sellers, so my offer was accepted. 

Three houses. I only toured three houses over just three weeks and was absolutely exhausted by the time I went under contract. How do people do this? 

Life Lesson: Bunnies are hilarious, adorable, crazy toddlers

After I made the decision to move back home, I knew I wanted to get another guinea pig. My second had passed away when I was in high school and I still miss him to this day. Sadly, it just wasn’t possible to own a small animal in NJ (both in having someone to watch one for me during trips home and me having easy access to supplies), but I’m grateful that my parents were more than okay with me having one at home until I got my own place. 

The weekend before we were planning on going out to look for piggies, I was visiting our local humane society’s website. They had a few pairs that would soon be up for adoption, as well as some single rabbits who needed homes. My mom was jokingly suggesting that I should get a bunny, as my cat brother Duddy absolutely loves watching YouTube videos of them. 

I knew nothing about caring for rabbits. My dad had a couple when he was younger (though they lived outside) and my childhood best friend had some that I would get to pet when I went over to her house to visit. That was the extent of my history with rabbits.

Despite the lack of knowledge, I decided to fill out an application for adoption, with the plans to go see him the following weekend. The second I started scratching between his little ears, I was completely smitten. Thumper then became Dobby, and the rest is history! 

Once he started to get comfortable at home, it became quite clear that although bunnies are just as food-obsessed as their cavy counterparts, the similarities end there. 

Bunnies can’t say a word, so they’ll let you know they want something by thumping. Taking too long to grab veggies? Thump. Taking too long to get up in the morning? Thump. Dobby also loves to “punch” at his exercise pen when he wants something. It’s the equivalent of a toddler throwing a tantrum, and he has no problems doing so if he decides he wants attention from me while I’m in the middle of a work meeting. (I quickly learned that the hard way). 

Bunnies are addicted to sweets. At least mine is. You always see rabbit Facebook groups preaching about how bad treats and fruit are for bunnies. We humans aren’t supposed to scarf down a couple of donuts either but does that stop most people? I do my best to limit the amount he gets (and make sure Dobby still gets adequate hay, veggies and pellets), but much like toddlers…bunnies often need a little bribe. In fact, if I want him to do anything…and I mean anything…I have to wave an apple crisp in his direction. He knows this too, because he’ll often “expect” treats for certain behaviors. Little stinker, I swear. 

Bunnies are dramatic. Within the first week of having him, I noticed he’d suddenly fall over like a little kid who had enough. As it turns out, this is called “flopping” and means a rabbit is content. That doesn’t make it any less hilarious (or adorable) to watch him suddenly fling himself onto his side. The dramatic antics don’t end here. When he’s doing something he shouldn’t be doing (like chewing baseboards, ahem) and I call him out on it, he’ll do a little hop and flip his head back as if to say “Oh the cleverness of me.” His new favorite thing to do? Fling himself onto my body (or poor Snape) when one of us is sitting on the couch. I can tell he’s think it’s absolutely hilarious and I won’t lie; it makes me laugh too. 

I’ve had Dobby almost a year now and although there’s been so much to learn and re-learn about bunnies during that time, I wouldn’t change a day! In fact, I have a bunny themed guest bathroom and collect bunnies for decor now…which means I should be getting my “obsessed bunny mom” membership card any day now. 

Life Lesson Learned: If you take your driving exam (again) at 28, the test administrator will still think you’re 16

Within the first year of moving to NJ, I made the decision to give up my Ohio license and get a state ID instead. I needed something with my address on it to be able to pick up packages from the post office (What. A. Nightmare.), but didn’t see the point in having a regular license. I had no plans to drive–especially considering how overwhelming area traffic was–and no plans to buy a car. I can’t even imagine the headache that would have ensued from trying to park said car. Parking was so limited that whenever my dad came to my apartment, it was like the Hunger Games trying to find a spot in Union City. I don’t know how people there deal with that on a daily basis. 

Here in my hometown, however, not having a license or a car is not an option. Public transportation is all but non-existent and the only place within walking distance of my parents’ house is the township park and Dairy Queen (and even that’s a hike). 

So just a couple of weeks after moving back home, I got my learner’s permit (again) and began the process of re-learning how to drive. Thankfully, driving is a lot like riding a bike. You never forget. (Though who am I to talk? I haven’t ridden a bike since I was…10? I’d probably fall over the second I got on one.) Anyway, I was definitely rusty and still needed a lot of practice. Thankfully, I did have one advantage this time around: I wasn’t a terrified teenager. I felt more calm behind the wheel, at least enough to be alert without panicking. 

Unfortunately, taking the driving test again in Ohio meant I had to pass the maneuverability exam, a.k.a. “The dreaded orange cones.” That took more re-learning than anything, though at least I didn’t plow over any of them during my first practice this time. (Did I accidentally hit a construction cone with my mom’s car mirror on my way home from a smooth maneuverability practice? No comment.) 

I did seem to master that faster this time around, so by early October, I felt ready to take the entire exam at the BMV. My parents and I both figured that I just needed to be able to pass the test, and more experience would come with more time on the road. 

Despite feeling prepared, to say I was nervous is an understatement. I was required to pass the “dreaded cone” exam first, which was the opposite of when I took the test as a high schooler. I managed to pass that portion with a couple of do-overs (though I’m convinced to this day that the cones were spaced closer together than they should have been) so we were onto the driving segment. I was much more calm than I was as a teen, maybe because I knew the test was basically just a bunch of stop signs and right turns to get back to the BMV. Things went fairly smoothly, though I found the examiner to be frustrating. He would tell me to hurry along at a four way stop, wouldn’t tell me what street to turn on so I had to ask, to name a few. That being said, he did crack a joke in the final stretch of the test and I knew I was in the clear. 

Or so I thought. While he informed me that while I did pass, he insisted he speak with my dad. It was at that moment that he began to lecture us both about a “bad habit” I did not even exhibit during the exam and admitted he had to give that speech all day long. He also made some comment about how he didn’t care what my driver’s ed instructor had said…And that’s when I realized he clearly thought I was 28 going on 16. He finished his rant, and I explained the truth to my dad (not that he believed the guy in the first place) once the grouch left us alone. Even more ridiculous? My Dad found out the man had given the same speech to the crying teenager testing before me…and she passed!

So not only did I get my license…again…I now have a story about a crazy test examiner to go along with it!

Life Lesson Learned: Tan and brown car interiors are not for me

License in hand, the only other thing I had left to do was…get a (used) car! Unlike most of my peers, this was my first car at 28 years old, and I had no idea what I was doing. My only parameters in my decision making were the maximum I wanted to spend, and the ideal number of miles on the vehicle. Thankfully I work from home so I don’t have to deal with commuting, but I still wanted something that wasn’t at the end of its life.

One of the very first cars I got to see at the dealership was one I had found online: a Chevy Malibu. My mom has a Chevy Malibu and I love it! It’s also the car in which I’ve learned to do all of my driving. When I climbed into this Malibu, however, all I could focus on was the tan and brown interior. I mean, I couldn’t even enjoy my test drive around the parking lot because my eyes couldn’t stop focusing on the interior. Silly reason to pass on a car? Maybe. But if I could find something else I liked with a less…distracting…interior, I was certainly going to do so.

I ended up going with a 2013 Volkswagen Jetta. It wasn’t even on my radar when I arrived at the dealership, but I felt it was a great match right away. The interior? Black and gray. Perfecto! 

Life Lesson Learned: If you start a garden, they will come

I decided to try my hand at raised bed gardening this year after getting help from my parents (who also kindly bought me the necessities as birthday gifts). In preparation, I read countless gardening books to decide what I was going to plant, how to care for them, and what insects to watch for. The one thing I didn’t take into account? Furry pests. Despite regularly spotting wildlife around my house, it naively never crossed my mind that these animals could see my garden bed as a buffet to be devoured. 

I learned this the hard way not long after removing the greenhouse cover that had been protecting my seedlings outside. I woke up one morning, not long after, to discover that something had made a mess of the soil. Looking for bugs? Devouring carrot seedlings? Who knows. I didn’t want to take a chance again, so I ordered some netting to protect the plants from nosey critters. 

Luckily, it seemed to do the job. There were no sign of animal intruders having a snack. Well, until this past week. A couple of my plants appeared to be lacking in nitrogen, so I bought some fish emulsion fertiziler (yes, it smells as gross as it sounds) to give them a nutrient boost. That night, my mom joked that I’d likely have an army of racoons showing up to find what they thought was a seafood buffet.

Sadly she wasn’t far off. Even though I have netting surrounded the garden, some critter (I don’t even want to know what), snuck its way between a gap in the netting that night and went to town digging up some of my poor onions. The nerve! 

Now I know: using fish fertilizer, when you have a mini forest behind your fence, is a no go! 

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These are just a few of the highlights of the past year since returning to Ohio. But since there’s always something new to learn…we’re just getting started. Until next time!