Comments (0)

Janet’s mom Shirley Jones passed on Thursday, July 8 after several battles with injuries – knees, both hips, getting run over by a golf cart in 2002 – and other maladies.

I met Shirley in 1966 when Janet invited a bunch of us swimming pool brats over for BLTs and soda. Teenagers can consume great piles of bacon, and we did. One thing led to another, I started dating Janet in 1967, and Mom kept feeding me for years. I didn’t start calling her “Mom” until after my own mother passed suddenly in 1970, and I was grateful that she let me do it even though Janet and I didn’t marry until 1975.

I never remember her being angry or upset with me, even when I dumped her carefully iced pastries upside down on the kitchen floor, or flipped a pancake onto her electric stove burner the day she was leaving on a trip. I am sure in the past 4o+ years I have committed many more offenses for which she should have scolded me, but I never heard it from her. On the contrary, she was always gracious and loving to me.

If you  knew Shirley, we’re having a gathering to remember her and celebrate her life at the Village Chapel in Greenspring, near 7418 Spring Village Drive in Springfield, on Wednesday, July 21 at 1:00 PM with a few refreshments afterwards. Let me know if you are thinking of coming and I can email you a parking pass.

Comments (0)

Looks like Cole . . . but not Cole.

Our family pet, Cole Cat, has apparently located the Mother Lode of chipmunks.

He roams his domain – that being our yard and half of each neighboring yard – on a regular basis. Spring is his favorite hunting season as every small rodent is coming out of hibernation and looking for food.

The Dastardly Chip Steals Chris's Muffin 1987

While he generally finds field mice or voles, this spring he is focusing exclusively on chipmunks. In fact, he has in the past two weeks brought us no fewer than five of the poor little varmints – and has been seen with others. We wonder if he was coached by Chris to channel his energies in this direction, since Chris was victimized by a large chipmunk as a youngster – his muffin was stolen by Chip at Disney World – and he has long sought revenge.

I suspect that Hotel Chipmunk (soon to be renamed Chipmunk Cafe) is under the porch next door, where some old building materials are stashed. This is on his morning and afternoon rounds, and probably evenings as well. I suppose it’s better than having him roving further afield where the cars are more prevalent . . . but finding one dead chipmunk under the bedroom settee is one more than we need.

Comments (0)

I have a rant today. I could have one everyday, but I try to keep the published ones reasonably spaced. Here goes:

Where and how in today’s society do you learn that the proper place to dispose of unneeded or unwanted furniture – sofas and the like – is in the median of the Franconia-Springfield Parkway? I would show you a photo, but some public-spirited citizen or agency has arranged it’s quick removal.

And, how on earth do you figure out that by the side of any random road – except in your own neighborhood, of course – it’s perfectly OK and in fact encouraged to toss your bags full of trash and garbage. Or your ripped mattress. Or the empty bottles of beer you drank while driving down said random road texting your girlfriend . . . oops, my mistake, those are thrown in the middle of said random road.

No, dammit, it’s not OK. It’s classless, unconscionably arrogant, and displays a selfishness, laziness and immaturity so vast I can’t conceive of words enough to fully describe it. Jackasses.

Perhaps you go to (or come from) a similar place where you learn that, to advertise your business, you illegally staple garish 18×24″ placards to as many road sign posts as you can find – that’s why the VDOT put them there, right? So you can advertise your el cheapo granite countertops, or your summer karate school, or perhaps your tax business. Ever used a powerwasher? Gee that’s good for half a dozen different signs.

And let’s not forget, we simply must tell everyone who drives over the American Legion Bridge in Springfield that just around the corner is an “Air Condition Laundomat.” A fine use of an otherwise pointless VDOT traffic directional sign.

Sometimes, though, the signs have so much great copy on them it’s hard to tell if you’re peddling “affordable car insurance” – finally! – some sort of mortgage scam, or just trying to find that incredibly elusive “real estate investing apprentice” you want to pay $20,000 per month. Amazing, all those signs and apparently you still haven’t found that apprentice! So much for an unemployment problem!

Today I drove past a veritable field of yellow signs with red printing that said “Flintstone” . . . something something something.” All I could think of was Fred, and a friend of mine who used to amaze me with his ability to perfectly draw him. And, of course, that your damn stupid illegal yellow signs were going to be littering the median at Popes Head Road until whenever VDOT finds the time and money to cut the grass and throw them away.

Campaign signs? I know, they’re legal (mostly) and they are taken down with in two weeks after the election. Real estate directionals and Open House signs? Hey, I’m an agent, I use them – but they come down when the house is sold or the open house is over. Yard sales? Fine, but not stapled on the road signs, and they come down at the end of the day.

I must confess that I have, on occasion, exercised a form of vigilantism, taking the law into my own hands by removing an advertising placard nailed to our local STOP sign. VDOT has enforcement powers, and there is a fine of $100 per sign, but VDOT doesn’t have anyone to do the enforcement, nor have they authorized the county to do it. So it’s basically up to us. Any volunteers?

Comments (0)

Spring Break! You’d think we were college students, but no, Janet is a teacher so this is when we can get away. And get away we did, to one of our favorite places—Charleston, SC—this time with a side trip to Savannah, GA.

A few weeks before, we decided to eschew the possibility of a cruise, and looked into booking at one of the lah-de-dah establishments in the heart of old Charleston. But we were drawn back to the Holiday Inn on Calhoun Street partly by the lower prices, but mostly by the opportunity to be guided by our favorite person in town, the famous Kevin McQuade, concierge extraordinaire. You will find an account of our first meeting with Kevin in January 2008 in my post here, and my review on Trip Advisor (a great travel resource).

Kevin has become an institution. He must be made of steel, or brick, or something very substantial, because otherwise he would be dead from overwork. He clearly loves his job. He is regularly doing 12-14 hour days and he is always “on.” This time, I sent him an email telling him we had booked, and he was soon on the phone with me to set up a conference with us both.

The conference call lasted about an hour, and in that time we arranged—for four days in Charleston and Savannah—four tours, a cooking class, and three dinner reservations. He took care of it all. And in the middle of it our daughter came home, was introduced on the phone, and received 15 minutes of free expert advice for her upcoming trip to Barcelona and Lisbon. Can’t beat that with a stick.

So on Sunday, March 28 we set off at about 7 AM (needed to reach Charleston by 5 PM to catch Kevin, as he was taking a couple of days off, leaving the concierge duties in the hands of the capable Natalie). The notation in my calendar says, “Leisurely 9 hour drive with My Honey .” FYI, the return trip on Friday shows, “Long miserable slog home with the ol’ Ball & Chain:-(“ but let’s not get into that any further . . .

Rolled into Chucktown (Charleston’s nickname) about 4:30, checked into our very nice room (half the price of the other establishments) and went down to the lobby. Helped ourselves to free lemonade and cookies while waiting for Kevin—we were third in line at that time—and spent 45 minutes or so talking to the others while he worked with some new clients. We smiled to hear the wonder in their voices as once again, he hit the sweet spot. Like the Pinball Wizard, we’ve never seen him fall. Meanwhile, the line built up behind us. You see, on every floor and in every room there is a sign saying something like, “10 Reasons To See The Concierge” or “What Is The Most Important Thing You Should See In Charleston That 95% of Visitors Miss? Ask the Concierge.” And his services are free. No wonder he has a line.

We thought he’d be handing us a few tickets from our already-booked tours and things, but au contraire, he sat us down and  got on the phone to reconfirm all the reservations (making sure we had just the right table), while going over our “non-Kevin” list of things we wanted to do to see where he might be able to offer suggestions. And he did. He handed us half a dozen printed cards with directions and suggestions for each restaurant’s best dishes; maps for each day; and other ideas as varied as what to wear where, to make sure we went to the bathroom before the house tours (hand notation on my calendar, “pee first”), to bring ziplocks for shells on the lighthouse tour, and so on. Made a lunch reservation at another nice restaurant while doing that. Saved us the price of the Middleton Place tour by having us show up for our 7 PM dinner reservation at 5:30, so we got to tour for free—with a drink from the bar in hand.

When we left for dinner (Hank’s Seafood) at 7:15 he was still there with a line. When we returned at 9 PM or so, he was just finishing up. Kevin is a treasure. He should have his own private listing on Trip Advisor. Good people of Charleston, take care of him.

On Monday we were up to visit the home of Nathan & Kara Delpino in Daniel Island, an attractive suburb of Charleston between the Cooper and Wando Rivers. The homes are really nice and the Delpino’s is quite attractive. Apparently Kara is a designer of some talent! Nathan is the elder son of Joe and Pam Delpino—Janet’s coworker—who were there babysitting with their granddaughter Ava. Ava went out to lunch with us, bringing along her shovel to which she is very attached. She left her lamb at home, but the shovel come along.

We had a 2:00 demonstration class at Charleston Cooks, so we had to hustle back downtown. Charleston Cooks is a kitchen store owned by Maverick Southern Kitchens, who are also the owners of several terrific restaurants in the area (more about them later). We also had to pick up tickets for our Home Tour and Garden Tour. Not sure about seating for the kitchen demo, we split up at the store with Kim fast-walking four blocks to pick up the tickets, which turned out to be $180 worth of wristbands. Wristbands safely ensconced in his papers (it’s coming . . .), Kim hurried back, and arrived (with shin splints) just in time for the last seat.

Our instructor, Emily Kimbrough, showed us how to make sauteed shrimp & grits—but the grits were cut in squares enfolding cheese. They were accompanied by sweet potato shortbread with blueberry/strawberry compote, and served with a nice wine. I drank Janet’s too, which further encouraged me to learn Emily’s favorite phrase, “awwwwwright!,” which she repeated often in an endearing drawl that I could only get close to right after many attempts. Janet told me to cut it out, and she paid me back by purchasing a number of things at the store.

Later that day, we were preparing for the home tour—8 of Charleston’s oldest and fanciest—when I discovered that (here it comes . . .) the all-important wristbands were GONE! The papers in which they were carried hurriedly to the store were there, but the wristbands had fallen out. Shin splints for naught. However, Charleston is a civilized place, and a return visit to the Historic Charleston office pleading complete and utter stupidity on my part secured us replacements.

So off we went to the tour, which is self-guided and start-anywhere. There are docents at each home, and guides in the streets. South of Broad Street there is little if any commercial activity, so walking around is absolutely easy and safe. The homes on the tour were built between 1770 and 1900 and restored (with the exception of modern kitchens!). Charleston is unique among southern cities in that it’s historical preservation began earlier and so it has a lot of homes from the Georgian and Federal periods still in use.

We finished the tour about 8:30 and called our rickshaw guys to come pick us up. Oh, did we tell you about rickshaws? They are three-wheeled contraptions like a bike with a loveseat attached, used like taxis. There are several licensed rickshaw/pedicab services in Charleston, usually operated by College of Charleston students. It’s a good city for them because it’s so flat. We have grown to love them because it can be tiring walking everywhere (especially with Janet’s perpetual plantar fasciitis and my shin splints), so we used them for some of the longer trips. We finished off the evening with a pizza at Mellow Mushroom.

Next day, we hit Virginia’s on King for breakfast (meh), then headed off to James Island for our boat trip out to Morris Island, where there the sixth oldest lighthouse in the US is still standing. It’s not in service—it can’t even be reached by land because of erosion—but the beach is well stocked with shells. It’s also the site of Fort Wagner from the Civil War movie Glory. Our guide was the intrepid Captain Gresh Meggett.

That evening we headed for Middleton Place, a ruined mansion but absolutely spectacular gardens, and a wonderful restaurant. Check out the pics. Too bad the azaleas were a week late because of the cold winter! On our arrival, we were cordially greeted at the car door by a small calico cat, who guided us to the restaurant entrance. After our tour and meal, the same kitty met us as we left, and escorted us safely back to our car. Good thing because just as we got there, we heard a bobcat howl.

Wednesday was set aside for Savannah—but on the way, Kevin suggested we stop at some church ruins near Beaufort, SC. Right, like we’ve never seen ruins . . . Janet was dragged all over England several times looking at ruins in her youth. But it was Kevin, so we stopped, and of course we are glad we did. Pretty spectacular. The old Sheldon Church was built around 1750, burnt down by the Brits in 1779, rebuilt in 1826, and re-burnt by Sherman’s troops in 1865. There is one service a year on the grounds, on the second Sunday after Easter. Kevin’s story—he once took a date there, but when after 10 minutes she started asking what was for dinner, he knew she was not “the one.”

On to Savannah, with free parking at the Mulberry Inn courtesy of Kevin. This is a bigger deal than one might think because parking in historic Savannah is not for the faint of heart. Or the short of wallet.

Kevin recommended the Savannah Dan Walking Tour. Dan is a former Savannah police officer and radio personality who has found his niche (and better hours, no doubt) as a tour guide. Dan told us the story of meeting Kevin, first on the phone where he was grilled for an hour, then in person when Kevin took his tour—with a clipboard and some oddball questions.

But Dan’s was the best Savannah tour Kevin enjoyed, so now he sends Dan several clients each week. We learned a great deal about the founding of Savannah and the people who made it, and even were graced with a visit from Forrest Gump along the way. After the tour we were thinking fried chicken at Mrs. Wilkes Boarding House, but after seeing the looong line of other tourists, we took Dan’s suggestion and stopped in at Leopold’s for a great sandwich and a milkshake!

We toured several of the great streets and squares of Savannah, which unlike Charleston was purposefully laid out as a city (rather like Washington without the diagonals). Oddly enough, though, Janet and I, who both tend to prefer organization over chaos, think that the more higgledy-piggledy Charleston is more to our liking.

On the way back to Charleston, Janet satisfied her Dillard’s craving with a stop at Citadel Mall (yes, Kevin had whipped out an index card with directions) while Kim napped in the car. This was an omen of things to come—evidently the warmest day for us in six months, combined with an early rising and a lot of driving and walking, had created a somnolent effect on us. Kim was the first to nod off (after passing the wheel to Janet an hour out of Savannah), but when we got back to the hotel we lay down for a “nap” but conked out for the night.

Thursday morning we indulged ourselves with a light room service  breakfast, knowing we would be lunching at SNOB (Slightly North Of Broad—a reference to the fact that Broad Street is the dividing line between the commercial/civic part of Charleston and the exclusive residential/historic area south of Broad) and having dinner at High Cotton. These restaurants, across the street from each other and next to Charleston Cooks, are both part of the Maverick Southern Kitchens group I mentioned earlier. In the northern Virginia area, they might be compared with the Great American group (Mike’s, Carlyle, Sweetwater Tavern, Coastal Flats, etc.). Charleston was home to a campus of Johnson & Wales University, acclaimed for culinary arts (e.g., graduates Emeril Lagasse, Tyler Florence) until 2004 when they consolidated two campuses in Charlotte NC; now it is home to the Culinary Institute of Charleston. Thus, food is a Big Deal in town, and lunch was delightful.

In between, we were set up for another walking tour sponsored by the Historic Charleston folks (yes, the other wristbands, which Janet had safely stowed in a zippered pocket of her wallet)—this time it was 10 of Charleston’s glorious gardens.

As noted earlier, the azaleas were a little late, but the camellia were still in bloom instead—not that it made much difference, because the both the gardens and the weather were indeed glorious. Here are a few pics, but they are not all mine because on-property photos are verboten on the tour. We hooked up with a woman from Minneapolis who was having some trouble with her directions, and later we treated her to her first rickshaw ride (Janet sat on my lap, and even with three of us the driver managed to pass most of the traffic).

High Cotton for dinner was an adventure. Kevin landed us a table on the back platform overlooking the floor. Janet was in heaven with her rack of lamb and braised brussel sprouts, and while she was busy with that I managed to drink two glasses of wine and most of hers as well. We noticed the sommelier with another couple across the room who we suspected we had spoken with at lunch, and when he stopped by our table we ascertained that it was indeed the same folks. Later, when our check arrived, we found they had bought our wine. A nice end to our last day.

As we were leaving the hotel the next morning, Kevin was arriving, and he started his day’s work with us. He pumped us for our views on the things we had seen and done to add to his considerable store of knowledge about what to suggest to others. We hope to see him again soon. We knew that the “long, miserable slog home” lay ahead, so we made the best of it by hitting up Hominy Grill for breakfast on the way out of town. Just had to have one last sausage biscuit.

Comments (0)

Everyone Loves A Baby!

So, everyone’s been asking – well, close friends anyway – what’s up with the tongue thing?

I don’t want to overload the blog with personal stuff, especially somewhat distasteful (ha, I made a punny) personal stuff, but this is important to enough people to make it worthwhile. For which I am grateful. If you are looking for real estate stuff, skip this post.

Back in 2006 or so, my great dentist Pam Marzban became concerned about some white-ish material on the lower left back of my tongue. She suspected it to be leukoplakia, a possible precancerous condition, and sent me off to an oral surgeon (Dan Labriola) who could take a biopsy and ablate the area with a laser procedure, which he did. The leukoplakia was confirmed, but no cancer.

In 2008 Dr. Pam saw the leukoplakia again, but ran a new “Swish-and-Spit” test which came up negative.

This May, Dr. Pam saw a more dangerous looking red spot - erythroplakia. Back to Dr. Dan, who excised two chunks for biopsy and thought he got it all. The biopsy on one chunk was squamous cell carcinoma, with apparent negative edges; the other was negative but had enough interesting dysplasia that the area from which it was taken deserved careful monitoring.

Dr. Dan set me up for a C/T of head and neck to check for anything spreading, which I had done in mid July after the swelling from the excision was minimized. I went on vacation, and didn’t hear from Dr. Dan since we already had a followup set for October. The C/T didn’t show anything but a little swelling of the lymph nodes hanging over from the surgery.

Good ‘ol Pam (who insists I get cleaned at least 3x year – bad flossing habits) in late July saw the “bad spot” once again. When I got back to Dr. Dan in October, he took one look and said, “Kim, I want you to see Dr. Patty Lee [who is an otolaryngologist or ENT to most of us] because I think it’s back, and we need a broader view.”

I saw Dr. Patty right away and last Monday she took an even bigger chunk (under general anesthesia this time). Yesterday was my first followup and all looks “well.” The biopsy showed residual SQC at the prior site (not sure which one) but all the edges were clear. So once again, looks like we got it all. Next followup in mid-December.

Important things to think about:

• Oral cancer is nasty. Nasty-looking, nasty-feeling, and if you like to eat or drink (who doesn’t?), nasty to deal with. And, it can spread (metastasize). This most often happens when the cancer is in the back third of the mouth like mine, especially if you don’t regularly see a good dentist who looks for it.
• Using tobacco causes cancer. Don’t smoke or chew. I gave up the weeds in 1987 and got it anyway.
• Immoderate alcohol use can contribute. My use is moderate or less and I got it anyway.
• HPV is another known contributor. I don’t have it, but I got tongue cancer anyway.
• Cancer tends to run in families, so I understand. Not in mine, but I got it anyway.
• Tongue excisions hurt. I have Percocet (Oxycodone) and Lidocaine (in viscous form in a squirt bottle!) but it’s been over a week and the best I can do is sip soup or (with difficulty) slurp pasta that ‘s creamy enough and small enough that no chewing is required. No tomato sauce or citrus, please. It’s going to be another couple of weeks before I can bear to move my tongue and have it risk scraping my teeth without causing enormous pain. (I have sharp molars that tilt toward the “bad spot.”) I stopped using the Perc after 2-3 days because (a) pills are hard to swallow and (b) even if I put them in a smoothie, I can’t drive and it’s not good for the ol’ digestive system, if you get my drift. I can’t brush my teeth, but I can gingerly swish mouthwash (ProHealth, no alcohol) to keep the halitosis under some semblance of control.

OK, this evening I am seeing some new clients! I will take my little whiteboard and my Lidocaine squeeze, and try not to breathe on them. Hopefully they will understand my rather clipped speech pattern. Yes, I could’ve put them off another week or so, but even though the mouth doesn’t want to work that much, the head, heart and hands gotta do something productive.

Comments (0)

Here is an update on one of our TJHSST kids from 2002 – Teresa (Thao) Nguyen and her band Get Down Stay Down.

New album – Know Better Learn Faster – released on October 13, featured on iTunes (as Chris says, “making it”), and including help from the Portland Cello Project, the Decemberists, Laura Veirs and others.

It’s vintage Thao on steroids.

See previous Thao post for the history and connections!

Comments (0)

Notice anything different?

Over the past week I have moved from my old wordpress.com blog site to a new platform where I can (a) use my domain kimhannemann.com (formerly a rather bad template site) and (b) incorporate a great search tool called RealBird and other new features.

I’m still in the process of working all of this out, but I think you will find the changes worthwhile.

Let me know if you like or dislike anything about the new site.

Comments (0)

Chris On-site

eSolar Plant

OK, for those of you who care about my family (of course all of you do) you might be interested in watching the National Geographic Channel at 5 PM on Thursday, July 16 where Sean Riley in World’s Toughest Fixes will participate in constructing America’s first large-scale solar power tower, courtesy of eSolar, Chris’s company.

Not literally his company, but he does have stock options. And he’s R & D-ing power tower designs.

In Fairfax County, that’s Cox HD channel 719 or Cox Digital Discovery Tier channel 160.

Comments (2)

My youngest child Victoria . . . no more a “child,” to be sure . . . graduated from James Madison University on Saturday, with her older already-anointed brothers looking on with pride. It’s hard to believe this was the angsty teen who four years ago  in her first dorm room was putting her stuff back into the boxes as fast as her Mom was taking it out, insisting she wanted to go home.

Somehow we all survived that first month and she made the Dean’s List. Fourteen months later she was off to London on her own for a semester of history, literature, theater and pub crawling. Then it was the rigors of two years of regimented nursing school curriculum, and now she’s a BSN – or Bitchin’ Sexy Nurse, as I like to say. And a good one, apparently, because INOVA Alexandria wants her on the Labor & Delivery floor badly enough to drop an open RN2 position to pick her up as a fresh grad. She must have impressed them when she interned there last summer, and did her student nursing there afterwards. She impresses me, that’s for sure.

But I might be just a little biased, perhaps. A father’s prerogative.

Comments (0)

Special Education Teachers in Demand – washingtonpost.com.

I bask in the reflected glory of my friend and neighbor Beth Curtis. She truly is “a natural.”