Monday, November 4, 2013

Autumn in Manhattan

Before proceeding, a couple notes. First of all, thanks again to everyone who has donated to my National Nordic Foundation Drive for 25 page. If I win the jacket, I promise coffee cards all the way around! I'm less than $100 from my new but final goal ... if you want that warm fuzzy feeling watching the Olympics, please go to my fundraising page. It's very simple to give. My longer spiel is here. You heard it here first: the women's 4x5k relay is going to be one of the iconic moments of the Sotchi games.

Second, I can't believe that my last post about our August 2012 backpacking trip in Idaho omitted the trip's soundtrack. It was The Tallest Man on the Earth's 2012 album "There's No Leaving Now." {TMOTE is really one short Swedish guy.} We never stopped playing it for 5 days. Does anyone understand the economics of full albums available on YouTube? Anyway, I challenge you not to get sucked in.

I love fall in Manhattan. We're halfway between Texas and Minnesota -- so the autumns here are neither too hot and un-fall-like nor too short. We enjoy an endless succession of bluebird days in the low 60s, interrupted every now and then by enough rain to keep my new lawn green. Well ok, we did have snow during the third week in October, but who's counting? Does anyone know why my camera turned the snowflakes into big round sand dollars?

Fall is all about annual traditions. For example, Jim and I turn off our office air-conditioners and pretend that we are hearty environmentalists. I convince myself for just a few weeks that THIS is the semester I can finally coast. And J comes during her fall break (in time for the snow). This year we proved (in Kansas City) that one need not go to Europe to increase one's Caravaggio count.

And you have to love Hieronymus Bosch. This has to be a Bosch, right? I mean, that is one strong drink. Anyone know what painting this is (sorry, all I can offer is some detail)? I can't find it here.

J and I went on our annual hike in the Flint Hills.

Fall in Manhattan also means tailgating. Here's some brisket sausage. It's a niche product, but I see that Nolan Ryan Beef has recently added brisket sausage to its product mix. 

Sam also smokes a duck every fall that brings tears to my eyes, complete with duck fat potatoes. Sweetie, I promise next time you can pick the meat.

Here are a few classic fall images from around town.

Of course, I don't want you to think that Manhattan is static. Things change. This fall, for example, I learned that we DO have good bread -- thanks, Stines, for the incredible black-crusted baguettes.

Tuttle Creek Lake and State Park are idyllic in the fall.

And to top it off, the lake offers the best rollerskiing in the world, no exaggeration. No, this is not because KS is flat -- in fact, Manhattan is extremely hilly. But thanks to an Army Corps of Engineers dam, this park offers miles of flat and nearly car-less roads -- and nightly orange skies. When rollerskiers enter heaven, here's what it looks like:

1 comment:

  1. I feel like I just read a love letter to Manhattan.