ACKtivity

July 14th, 2008 by Sally | Posted in ACKtivity, Uncategorized | 3 Comments »

Every summer I promise myself that I’m going to be ACKtive here on Nantucket. My typical, lamely out-of-reach goals include:

1) Run daily at Sanford Farm (never gonna happen)

2) Ride my bike to Sconset (even once!)

3) Take advantage of the offerings in the newspaper (Sand castle contest, Library lecture, Bird-watching, e.g.)

Not that my time here isn’t well spent. Even high-achieving, for a summer vacation. I do read several books, walk (and even run) on occasion, and sample every chocolate chip cookie offered on the island. A lot of varsity-level dining occurs, both in restaurants and at beach picnics. I’ve been known to try a new dip recipe, learn to shuffle cards, or find a previously undiscovered cranny in a lobster tail to get meat out of. Good stuff. Important stuff.

But today I outdid myself. I really took ACKvantage (sorry, I can’t help myself), by signing up for an Early American Arts and Crafts class at the Nantucket Historical Association. “Pray tell, what kind of arts? What type of crafts?” you may be asking. If you guessed Miniature Sailor’s Valentine, Nesting Shaker Boxes, or Punch Needle Embroidery, you would be wrong wrong wrong. Silly you. Those classes are all happening next month, when I will be long gone, back in Los Angeles admiring my beauteous SILHOUETTE COLLAGE, which I completed today, with the guidance of my new best friend and craft teacher, Alison Shriver (who was flying high from her weekend show at the Nantucket Folk Art Festival), and seated aside fellow crafters Lisa and Lisa of Washington D.C., Awesome-whale-cutout-lady from Baltimore, and Perfectionist-X-acto-knife-user from Ohio.

To say my crafting debut was successful would be a ridiculous understatement. First of all, I went. Based on nothing but a flyer inserted in the paper. (Check off that #3 To Do box!) Second of all, I completed a craft. Finally, I created a coveted craft. Like: the best one there, I would say. (And I’m pretty sure that Alison, Lisa and Lisa, and maybe even Perfectionist-X-acto-knife-use would agree. Awesome-whale-cutout-lady would probably say hers was better, but she left before I was finished, so screw her. She wouldn’t really know.)

Looking back, I think my quickly-acquired mad skillz at silhouette-cutting, composition, and glue application did me well. But what catapulted me above my classmates was the quick game-time-decision I made at the start to run home and gather whatever paraphernalia I could find to make my collage more personal. (Fortunately, everything in Nantucket is within 5 minutes. We’ll see how this tactic works in big-time crafting centers, like L.A.) An architectural house plan here, a scallop shell there, some quick photocopy reduction, and bam: an instant masterpiece that would make a Quaker lady blush beneath her bonnet. (And will hopefully please my husband when I present it to him on our anniversary.)

Phew. That’s a lot of ACKtivity. I think I’ll take the rest of the day off.

Baby Borrowers

July 13th, 2008 by Sally | Posted in Baby Borrowers | No Comments »

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve never been a risk target for the “Don’t try this at home” warning. In 1978, the most dangerous stunt I would ever attempt was sitting so close to our 12-inch kitchen TV that I might go blind (according to my mother.) I was content just watching the Ginsu knife commercial. At age 8, I wasn’t about to try to cut a tomato with my bare hand, much less slice and dice a tin can, a radiator hose, and THEN a tomato with a sharp object.

Even now, with reality TV, I couldn’t be less interested in eating a bunch of worms, becoming a human suction cup, or shacking up with a bevy of tequila-fueled hussies vying for the attention of a rapper with a large clock around his neck. But it makes for some good TV, fo’ shizzle.

Then I heard about “Baby Borrowers,” a brilliant reality concept, in which teenagers take care of babies as part of a crash course on parenting. It’s gotten a lot of flack since it came out from people who think it might not be such a good idea to let infants – and toddlers, and pre-teens, and even senior citizens – out of the sight of their primary caregivers for days on end, especially when left in the hands of ill-equipped teens who squirm at the sight of a poopy diaper.

I’m not a teenager, and I don’t have a baby to loan out, but I do squirm at the thought of a poopy diaper — and breast-feeding, and sleep deprivation, and giving up all life’s freedoms for a snotty child that will resent me for most of its life because I never let it eat sugar cereals. And that’s just the point; with my husband’s and my constant conversation about “the whole baby thing,” I thought, maybe we should practice? Try “the whole baby thing” on for size? With the lease-to-own and “money-back guarantee” options off the table, NBC-style “baby borrowing” might be just thing to help us decide once and for all: should we or shouldn’t we?

For Episode One, we started slow; no diapers. Assignment? Take my two cute 6-year-old twin nieces to the carnival. Piece of cake, we thought. And it truly wasn’t that hard. Once we got over a low-level whine-fest debating Sirius’ Radio Disney vs. Kids Stuff, and only one “Are we there yet?” we made it happily to the carnival and worked the very straight-forward, traditional “Spoil ‘em Rotten” angle, doling out ride tickets and $5 bills like it was the last dragon roller coaster and the last stuffed animal monkey prize on Earth. $115 and 12 prizes later (11, until we realized that there can be no discrepancies with twins, and were thusly forced to spend $20 more at the balloon dart game ‘til, by God, that furry snake was ours!), we dangled the final cotton candy treat and headed for the car.

No meltdowns. No accidents. This had been the piece of cake we envisioned. But just before high-fiving each other for a borrowers’ job well done, Uncle Paco and I realized: 1) we were leaving the carnival at the girls’ 8:00p bedtime, and 2) we hadn’t fed them. Oops. I’m not certain, but I think that lesson one in childcare probably has something to do with nourishment. Lesson two – or maybe three, after that showering love thing (we did that with ride tickets and furry prizes, right?) – is about sleep. We would definitely get a demerit or get kicked off the island or whatever repercussions befell the teens on “Baby Borrowers” for this one. Thankful for pizza-by-the-slice, we picked up a few on the way home, used the ol’ “in cahoots” method (“You guys have to help us by getting in bed, or else we’re going to get in so much trouble”), almost fell for one “Daddy lets me brush my teeth without toothpaste” and one “Mommy always reads us two stories,” tucked them in by 8:45p, and then, deservedly, high-fived.

If one good night with 6-year-old twin girls at a carnival where they’re given whatever they want, eat cotton candy and pizza, and stay up past their bedtime means that we would be great parents and enjoy ourselves immensely and not ever regret that we gave up our completely perfect lives of fun and freedom, then, well, call our first attempt at baby borrowers a success. Except that we know better than that. And though we did enjoy ourselves immensely, we are not one step closer to knowing the answer to our quandry.

But stay tuned. In Episode Two, when we’ll once again “try this at home,” we may even graduate to poopy diapers.

The Galley Redux

July 11th, 2008 by Sally | Posted in Restaurant review | No Comments »

BCKNACK, as our license plate reminds us. And it’s another beauteous summah. (”How was your wintah?” “Wicked great.” “Yoah’s?” “Pretty good!”) I’m always most excited about checking the changes. This year’s aren’t quite as crazy as the ones I wrote about back in 2005; more like a new store here, a one way street there. One of the best so far? Read on…

—–

Although my Nantucket is the same as it ever was (worn-in Reds, 1986 Wagoneer, beach picnics), we’ve all spruced things up a bit and brought our city lives here, adding a bit more of the Rosé, cheese-plate, high heeled factor than back in the day. Well, the Galley at Cliffside Beach Club has done the same. And if one can avoid comparisons to Miami or, God forbid, the Hamptons, you’ll likely believe it’s the kind of renovation that makes you feel just the same as it ever was, but a little more grown up. And in Nantucket, where change is the devil, but “sprucing” means maintaining a strict code of grey shingled ethics, that’s the most successful kind.

The layout is the same, but with a more permanent, ceiling-fanned roof overhead, woven natural carpet below, and the extension of an additional eating area out on the beach – like, literally: tables on the sand – which, on a perfect evening like last night, just scream out for kicking off your sandals and digging your toes in while sipping on a cold cocktail. And speaking of which, there’s also the addition of a much-needed bar, which seems to house people coming to visit it exclusively, where one can order from the main menu and watch the Red Sox game, or people watch the lucky pastel-clad folks in the main dining room, who, just like always, give a hearty round of applause when the sun finally does go down, whether or not they see the fabled “green flash.”

The food’s the same, too, if not just the slightest bit more composed and precious (is that what happens when the city comes to the island?) – but still delicious. I had foie gras (that was the precious part – though elegantly presented with a little kumquat sweetness on the side) and a Caesar salad (which was ample, in comparison) – and others enjoyed their arctic char with some kind of bacon-infused broth and barley, ahi tuna, and, as always, the beet salad, fresh from Bartlett’ Farm. We forewent the brownie and chocolate sauce, but I have faith that it was the same as it ever was – that is to say classic Nantucket, tasting that much better because of it’s spruced up surroundings and the as ever applause-worthy sunset. Take a bow, Galley!