Roasted Pumpkin Seeds

Fresh, tasty pumpkin seedy goodness.

I bought a bunch of pumpkins in October — all kinds of pumpkins — from a local pumpkin farm. I bought them mostly because I could pick them myself and it was fun. I liked the seasonality of having pumpkins around. And I figured I might carve them and put candles in them and do the whole Jack ‘O Lantern thing, even though I knew damn well I wasn’t going to get any trick or treaters.

Penny with Pumpkins
Penny posed with the pumpkins the day we brought them home.

But then my godfather got sick and died and I went to New York. When I got back, right before Halloween, I didn’t really feel like carving pumpkins.

So they sat outside. Halloween came and went. We had a warm spell and then it turned cold. Very cold. “Frost on the pumpkin,” as my stepdad would say, cold.

I got the idea that I wanted to pull seeds from the pumpkins to plant them in my own garden next year. (Don’t tell Monsanto.) So one-by-one I bought them in, cut them open, and scooped out the seeds. I cleaned them and dried them and put them in labeled plastic bags.

Of course, I don’t need that many seeds to plant and the orange pumpkin had plenty of them. So I decided to roast them — just as I did most years that I carved pumpkins in Arizona and New Jersey.

Here’s how.

  1. Preheat the oven to 350°F.
  2. Using oil or spray oil, lightly grease the bottom of a large pan. (I used olive oil because that’s the way I roll.)
  3. Cut open the pumpkin and remove the seeds and loose pulpy stuff around them from the inside.
  4. Separate the pulpy stuff from the seeds. This could take some time. Be patient. Drinking wine or chatting with a friend or loved one is a good multi-tasking activity.
  5. Put the seeds in a colander and rinse them. Don’t rinse them too well; they’re better with just a little bit of pumpkin on them.
  6. Put the pumpkin seeds in the prepared pan and spread them evenly.
  7. Roasted Pumpkin Seeds
    Roasted pumpkin seeds, straight from my oven.

    Sprinkle the seeds with a generous helping of salt. (I used Kosher salt because I had some. Regular salt works, too.)

  8. Put the pan in the oven and roast for at least 10 minutes. If necessary, stir the seeds to prevent uneven browning, spread them out again, and continue to roast. You might have to do this more than once, depending on how many seeds there are and how big the pan is. The seeds should be light brown and kind of crispy when they’re done.
  9. Remove from oven.
  10. Enjoy as soon as they’re cool enough to eat without burning your mouth.

And yes, you do eat the entire seed.

Enjoy!

Apple Crisp for One (or Two)

Very easy, very tasty.

One of the great things about living near Wenatchee, Washington’s “Apple Capital,” is the wide availability of fresh-picked apples each autumn. Not only am I able to buy local apples direct from packing companies like Stemilt’s Bountiful Fruit store in North Wenatchee (which ships, by the way), but I can often get out in an orchard and pick the less marketable fruit left behind. Indeed, just last week, after dropping off some passengers for a meeting at an orchard, I walked through an organic gala apple block and picked a half dozen apples that were just too small to pick. (I get cherries and pears like this, too.)

I was invited to dinner at a friend’s house the other day and told my host I’d bring apple crisp. I wanted to make just enough for him and his three guests. So I found a recipe that was easily scalable. It came out great with those galas. So good that I made myself a single serving of hot apple crisp the next day for breakfast.

Here’s my scalable recipe. This will serve one or two.

Ingredients:

  • 1 medium or large apple. I used gala.
  • 2 tablespoons raisins (optional). I didn’t use them. I really don’t care much for raisins, but they do go good in apple crisp.
  • 2 teaspoons sugar. I use raw cane sugar.
  • 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
  • Pinch of salt (optional).
  • 2 tablespoons light brown sugar. Packed, of course.
  • 2 tablespoons oatmeal. Do not use instant oatmeal. Ever. (Ick.)
  • 1 tablespoon flour
  • 1 tablespoon cold butter. I used frozen butter cut into small pieces.
  • Additional butter to butter pan.

Instructions:

  1. Preheat oven to 350°F.
  2. Butter a small baking dish and set aside.
  3. Cut up the apple and place it in a small bowl. You can cut it however you like; keep in mind that the smaller the pieces, the faster they’ll cook.
  4. Add raisins (if you’re including them), sugar, cinnamon, and salt (if you’re including it). Toss to coat apples with sugar and cinnamon.
  5. Place apple mixture in the prepared baking dish.
  6. Mix together brown sugar, oatmeal, flour, and butter pieces. Using your fingers, blend until the butter is in very small pieces and well mixed in. This could take about 2 minutes.
  7. Apple Crisp for OneSprinkle the topping over the apples.
  8. Bake until apple is tender, 30 to 40 minutes, depending on the size of the apple pieces. (If you used a glass baking dish, you should see the apples bubbling in their juices.)
  9. Cool for at least 15 minutes before eating.

This is amazingly delicious with coffee for breakfast or with vanilla ice cream for dessert.

Bees: Winterizing my Hives

I tuck my bees in for the winter.

I started my beekeeping hobby in June 2013 and have been blogging about it periodically. If you’re interested in reading the other posts in this series, follow the Adventures in Beekeeping tag. Keep in mind that the most recent posts always appear first on this blog.

I moved to my new place in Malaga about six weeks ago and fetched my bees soon afterward. During the month they’ve been living in their new home, they’ve pretty much settled in. Although there aren’t any food sources right now — we’re well into the autumn season — they get out and about on warm days, which we had plenty of until very recently. I’d been supplementing their honey stores with sugar water in outside feeders that I filled every two days. Now those feeders were starting to freeze and leak. With temperatures dipping into the low 30s at night, it was time to prep my hives for the winter.

Because of my beekeeping goals, it’s vital for me to ensure that all of my hives survive the winter. With an average winter hive loss in this area of about 50%, statistically I stood to lose one or two of my three hives. I wanted to beat the odds and keep all three. That was my challenge.

Bees in Winter

Although bees don’t hibernate in winter, they do slow down their activities to a near hibernation state. They bunch together for warmth in the middle of the hive. The queen stops laying eggs — or lays very few –because the workers, who don’t really do any work outside the hive in winter, live a lot longer. The drones are generally kicked out; they serve no purpose at all in the winter and can eat precious food stores.

The food, by the way, is the honey and pollen they’ve been storing all summer. Beekeepers “steal” this honey, although a smart beekeeper will leave enough behind for the bees to eat during the winter. I harvested honey very early in the season with hopes that my bees would make enough to take them through the winter. For various reasons — hive strength, availability of food, etc. — I don’t think they made enough. That means I’ll have to feed them. More on that in a moment.

The bees will go out on warmish days, mostly to stretch their wings (so to speak) and poop. But because there’s nothing flowering, there’s no work to do and they don’t stay outside long.

Mite Control

Mite infestations weaken bees, making it more difficult for them to survive the winter. My friend Don is convinced that he lost his bees last year because of mites. I’m not going to make the same mistake.

I blogged about mites back in August; you can read more about varroa mites in that post.

This year, I used three techniques to control mites:

  • Drone frames – These are special frames with cell sizes that encourage the hive to produce drone eggs. Since mites prefer drone larvae, you can simply remove a full drone frame and freeze it to destroy the mites and the drones. This works, as I detailed here. It’s a great spring/summer solution because it requires no chemicals so you don’t have to worry about contaminating any honey that might be destined for human consumption.
  • Screened bottom boards – When mites move around the hive and when bees clean themselves, mites fall to the bottom of the hive. If there’s a flat bottom board, the mites can climb back up into the hive or hitch a ride on a bee entering the hive. But if there’s a screen bottom, the mites fall through while the bees can come and go by walking on the screen. This is a great year-round solution — no chemicals and no extra effort on the beekeeper’s part (although you could add a sticky board if you were interested in capturing and counting mites). I’d installed screened bottom boards on all three of my hives when I moved them in early October.
  • Apiguard – Recommended by another beekeeping friend of mine, Apiguard is a thymol based miticide that’s used after honey season but before it gets cold; it requires temperatures of at least 60°F to work. I treated all three of my hives when I moved them in early October.

I should mention here that when I checked my hives for mites in late August, I learned that my original hive and the split from that hive had serious mite issues while the captured swarm had hardly any mites at all. In addition, that swarm capture hive is the strongest of the three. Interesting, no?

Some Notes about Feeders

Entrance feeder
Here’s an entrance feeder on one of my hives.

I’d been using entrance feeders on all my hives since mid summer, although I didn’t always keep them full. When I moved them to my home in Malaga, I was able to tend to the feeders regularly and make sure they were never empty.

Entrance feeders utilize a jar with a perforated cap that sits on a plastic tray. One end of the tray slides into the corner of a hive entrance; bees can enter beneath the jar lid and feed through the perforations. I like entrance feeders because I can always see how much feed is left. They’re also easy enough to refill — just pull off the jar, brush off any bees on the lid, open the lid, fill it up, close the lid, and replace the jar on the plastic tray. I don’t even have to suit up to get the job done.

Entrance feeders were not practical for the winter. I’d discovered that with temperature fluctuations — low 30s at night vs. 70+ in direct sun during the day — the feeders would leak. In addition, once the temperatures dropped below freezing, the contents would freeze. Not only that, but I planned to put entrance reducers in the hive and I could not do so with an entrance feeder blocking part of the entrance.

Two more alternatives include frame feeders and top feeders.

Frame Feeder
Frame feeder as illustrated in the Mann Lake catalog.

A frame feeder is shaped like a standard hive frame and is designed to slide into the place of one or two frames. Bees enter through the top where there are holes with “ladders” the bees can use to access the contents of the frame. Frame feeders can typically hold one to two gallons of feed. As a new beekeeper, I bought a frame feeder like the one shown here, thinking it would be the best solution for my hives when it came time to feed them.

I subsequently rethought that idea. The trouble with a frame feeder is that you have to open the hive and expose the bees to cold air to refill it. It’s also difficult to see how full it is. And because I initially thought I’d be spending the winter away this year, I realized it simply wouldn’t hold enough feed to keep the bees fed all winter long.

Top Feeder
Top feeder as illustrated in the Mann Lake catalog.

As my collection of hives expanded from one to three and I began seriously thinking about my winter strategy, I invested in two top feeders. A top feeder sits inside a hive box at the top of the hive, just under the inner cover. Bees enter from the bottom, through holes between two center wells. A screen enables them to crawl down to the level of the feed. Although a top feeder works with a shallow hive body, it can also work with a medium or deep hive body; I already had plenty of medium bodies.

There are three main benefits to top feeders. First, they sit on top of the hive so you don’t need to expose the bees to cold air when refilling them. Second, they hold a lot of feed — four gallons. There was a pretty good chance I could fill them each once and not have to worry about them for the entire winter. And that brings up the third benefit: it’s very easy to check the level of remaining feed because the feed is clearly visible in the wells. Oh, and how’s this for a fourth benefit: You can fill just one well with liquid feed and use the other well to provide pollen patties or some other supplement. A little bend in the screen on one side will give the bees access.

So as I got ready to prep my hives for the winter, I had three feeders for my three hives.

Prepping the Hives

On Thursday, the weather was warm enough to open the hives and prep them for the winter. I began with my weakest hive (a late summer split) and worked up to my strongest hive (a swam capture).

Before I could do any of that, however, I needed to open up the back of my bee shelter. I’d built it using good quality wood screws so I could easily disassemble and reassemble it when I needed to. Since the bees were coming and going out the front, I figured I’d access the hives from the back. (This is something my beekeeping friend Jim taught me early on.) So I used my handy battery drill to remove the six screws holding the back on and laid the plywood panel aside.

Then I suited up. I debated lighting my smoker and then decided against it. First of all, there weren’t that many bees flying around. Second, when you smoke bees, their instinct is to go into the hive and gorge themselves on honey. Although they’d eventually put that honey back — don’t ask me how; I just know that they somehow do — I didn’t think it was a good idea to encourage them to eat when they had a limited amount of available food. Besides, the suit would protect me and I really didn’t mind dealing with angry bees when I was suited up.

I got all the equipment I needed and laid it out nearby. Then, hive tool in hand, I got to work.

Split Hive

This hive has only one deep box with nine frames in it. I learned during the hive move in October that it had very little honey stored. If any colony was going to die over the winter, it would be this one. My goal was to make sure they had as much food as possible. To that end, I’d retrieved a full frame of capped honey that I’d pulled out of another hive that summer when I extracted honey. It was the seventh frame and I simply didn’t have time to extract it when I did the others. (The extractor holds three frames at a time.) I figured that I’d pull out an empty frame and replace it with this full one.

That turned out to be pretty easy to do. I found three empty frames — out of nine total frames! — in the hive. These poor bees would definitely starve if I didn’t feed them. I pulled out one empty frame on the left side of the hive box and slid the full frame into its place. Then I pulled out the two empty frames on the right side of the hive box and slid a frame feeder into their place. I had prepared a quart of sugar water and I poured that in, too. It wasn’t enough for the winter, but it was enough to get the bees started.

Before closing the hive back up, I removed the Apiguard tray, which was almost empty, and repositioned the remaining grease patty. I had at least six more of those patties in the freezer; I’d add another one when I topped off the feeder on the next nice day.

Original Hive

My original hive came from a nuc I bought back in June. It was an extremely healthy nuc that took to its new hive very quickly and produced 2-1/2 gallons of honey in a month. I consider myself very lucky to get my start with such a great colony of bees.

After extracting the honey in July and splitting off half the brood frames to a new hive, however, the health of the hive seemed to suffer. Honey production dipped and although I’d hoped the bees would produce enough honey for winter, it soon became clear that they would not. I think mites were part of that problem; when I did a mite count in August, it clearly showed a serious infestation. I can only hope my October treatment helped resolve that issue.

This hive had two boxes: a deep brood box on the bottom and a medium honey super on top. There was drawn-out comb in most of the 10 frames in the honey super, but there was no honey. I removed the entire box. Beneath that was a spacer that I no longer needed; I removed that, too. In the deep hive box, all the frames seemed full with either honey or brood cells. I didn’t want to pull any out to check more closely; there was no reason to expose the bees to the cold air more than necessary.

I removed the Apiguard tray and adjusted the remaining grease patty. Then I pulled the frames out of the medium hive box and positioned the empty box on top of the deep box. I laid in one of my top feeders and fiddled with the screen to ensure that the bees would have access to both wells. Then I took a break to make about 3 quarts of sugar water back in my RV. I brought it back to the hives, poured it into one of the wells, and closed up the hive. I’ll top off the levels on the next warm day.

Swarm Hive

At the end of June, I captured my first swarm. This became my second hive but it is now the strongest of the three. As mentioned earlier, it has very few mites.

The setup of this hive is almost identical to my original hive: two boxes with a spacer between them. I followed the same process to winterize them. There were two differences, though.

First, the honey super’s frames were nearly all built out with comb and there was some honey in several frames. None of the frames, however, had been capped. I suspect the bees were eating this honey. There was not enough honey in the frames to leave them in.

Second, when I pulled the frames out of the honey super, bees were clinging to the bottoms of several frames. I suspect this is because this hive has a much larger population that the other hive, which had no bees in the upper box at all. I used my brush to brush them down into the deep bottom box.

After removing the medium frames, spacer, and Apiguard and adjusting the grease patty, I laid the top feeder in place. Then another break to make another 3 quarts of sugar water. (I was now out of sugar; I’ll need at least another 20 pounds to top off all the feeders.) I poured the feed into one well of the feeder and closed up the hive.

Reducing Entrances

Entrance Reducer
Entrance reducer image from Wikipedia.

Each of my hive bottoms came with an entrance reducer. This is a piece of notched wood designed to fit into the entrance of a hive. You rotate it to allow a tiny opening or a larger opening.

At the bee chat I attended the other night, I got into a discussion with another beekeeper about how to set the entrance reducer. His concern was dead bees blocking the entrance to the hive, so he planned to use the smallest setting and rotate it so that the hole was slightly elevated. This would (theoretically) prevent dead bees from blocking the entrance. I thought long and hard about this strategy. I was counting on my bees to keep the hive clean by dragging out their dead. (This is what bees normally do.) Setting the entrance reducer the way he described would make it very difficult for the bees to do this.

After some internal debate, I decided to set my entrance reducers with the wider entrance in the normal position. Not only would this make it easier for the bees to drag out their dead, but it would make it possible for me to reach in with a tool and scrape dead bees out for them. The drawback: a bigger opening that could let in more cool air.

The decision made, I implemented it. First, I removed the entrance feeders. Then, using my hive tool as a lever when necessary, I slid the entrance reducers into place. Because two of my hive bottoms had non-standard width entrances, I had to use a saw to shorten two of my entrance reducers. Not a big deal.

Finishing Up

Semi-Winterized Hives
My three hives, almost ready for winter.

Finished with most of the winter prep work, I closed up the back of the hive shelter again, replacing some of the (too) long screws with shorter ones that would be easier to work with in the future. Then I gathered together all of the frames I’d removed from the hives — a total of 19 medium frames and 3 deep frames! — and packed them up in my truck. Later in the day, I’d drive them out to my hangar for winter storage with the rest of my beehive components.

I also made a list of things to do to finish up winterization:

  • Top off feeders. There was no reason why I shouldn’t fill them up to the brim on the next warm day to minimize the number of times I needed to open the hives. For now, they had enough food to keep them for at least a few weeks.
  • Wedge tops open. One of the issues other area beekeepers have had is with condensation in the winter causing mold to form inside hives. This can be remedied by inserting a stick under the hive’s top cover to allow a small amount of ventilation.
  • Consider burlap blanket for weak hive. One of my beekeeping friends, who lives in the mountains where the conditions are considerably harsher in the winter time, used a medium box filled with burlap on top of each hive for additional insulation. I didn’t think I needed that since my hives had a roof over them and two of them had top feeders which would form an additional barrier to cold air. My weak hive, however, didn’t have this top barrier. I had everything I needed except the burlap. I needed to think about this and get my hands on some burlap.
  • Colony Quilt
    Colony Quilt as illustrated on the B & B Honey Farm website.

    Cover hives with “colony quilt” blanket. I’d ordered the insulating covers from B & B Honey Farm earlier in the week but they hadn’t arrived yet. I liked the idea of the cover because I knew the dark color, when exposed to the sun, would help warm the hives. The insulating quality would help keep the warm when the sun wasn’t on them. I can’t comment on these beyond that yet; will blog about them once I’ve had a chance to check them out.

  • Place insulation under screen bottom boards. Right now, two of my three hives have nothing beneath the screen bottom boards except the palette on which the hives sit. I need to slide in some foam insulation to prevent drafts from coming up from below.

With luck, I’ll be able to finish up all these tasks this week. Only then will I feel as if I’ve done everything in my power to keep my bees alive for the winter.

My New Old Toaster

Real retro.

As I’ve blogged elsewhere, I was in the New York area late last month. I tried to see my godfather one last time before he passed away and missed him by two days. I went anyway and spent some time with family members. I also helped my mom and cousin sort through my godfather’s belongings in preparation for auctions, estate sales, and the eventual sale of his house. I blogged the details of my trip here.

One thing I learned about my godfather, Jackie, is that although he often received gifts that he didn’t want or need, he never returned them. We found many brand new items still in their original boxes or with tags still on them. He had, for example, at least 5 blenders, three of which were still boxed. (One, which he apparently used, looked like an original Vitamix.)

My New Old Toaster
Who needs a fake retro toaster when you can have a real one?

Among the things we found was a Proctor Silex toaster in a never-opened box. I mean, the box still had those big staples across the top holding it closed. The price $9.99 had been penciled in on one side. I opened the box and pulled out a shiny circa 1966 chrome two-slice toaster. I was in awe. The damn thing was nearly as old as I am and it was in absolute mint condition. (Obviously, I can’t say the same thing about me.)

I didn’t own a toaster. I haven’t ever owned a toaster. I always had toaster ovens. Toaster ovens are nice appliances to have, but they generally do a crappy job making toast.

I think I must have shocked my mother and cousin when I asked if I could have it.

I packed the toaster in its box into my luggage when it it was time to go home. I wondered whether it would raise any red flags with the TSA when it went through their X-ray machines. I hoped that if they opened it, they wouldn’t get fingerprints all over that nice chrome.

At home, I put it on my countertop.

I didn’t use it until today. Two reasons. First, I don’t eat much toast. The reason for that is that I didn’t have a toaster and wasn’t in the habit of eating toast. Also, I try to avoid unnecessary carbs. Second, I was kind of afraid to try it. Afraid that a 47-year-old toaster would spontaneously combust when I pushed the lever down. Or afraid to somehow “ruin” it by using it. After all, it wouldn’t be mint once it had some burned crumbs in the bottom.

My New Toaster in Action
My new old toaster in action.

But today I took the plunge. I pulled a slice of 12-grain bread out of a bag in the freezer and popped it in. I pushed the lever down. I watched the metal filaments glow red. I stood ready to pull the plug and grab the fire extinguisher if need be.

In the end, all I had to do was push the lever back up when I realized that my toast was getting overdone. I guess I need to play with the darkness adjustment next time.

I spread cashew butter on the toast. It was delicious.

Day Trip to New York City

Cramming in as much of the Big Apple as I can swallow in one day.

At the end of October, I went to the New York Metro area on family visit. You can read about most of the trip here.

On Monday, October 28, my last day in the area, I went into the city, leaving Penny behind again. My sister-in-law dropped me off at the Rahway train station and I took a New Jersey Transit train into Penn Station. It brought back too many memories of my days as a commuter going into New York from Queens and later from New Jersey — especially when I joined the crush of people filing onto the escalators to street level.

Black and White
This public domain image of a black and white cookie by Ben Orwoll is from Wikipedia. The black side is really dark brown (chocolate).

I caught sight of a bakery on the main concourse and detoured into it. I picked up a real cheese danish to eat along the way and a real black and white cookie for later. (You can’t get a good black and white outside of the New York area and this one was like heaven. Have I mentioned how much I miss the food in New York?)

I got back into the crowd and funneled onto the escalator to street level. I stepped outside and paused for a moment to get my bearings. It had been a long time since I stepped through that door — maybe 25 years? I immediately saw the Hotel Pennsylvania (owner of the phone number in the Glenn Miller song, “Pennsylvania 6-5000“). Then the 7th Avenue and West 33rd Street signs. I was at Madison Square Garden.

Not wanting to look like a tourist, I started walking uptown at standard a New Yorker pace — i.e., fast. I had a mission — to sell my engagement and wedding rings — and I wanted to head uptown, possibly to the place the engagement ring had been purchased 29 years before. I figured I’d take Seventh Avenue up to 57th Street and then head east. I’d stop along the way and see the sights I hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

The city looked the same as the last time I’d been there. Well, not exactly the same, of course. But if asked to identify what was new, I probably couldn’t do better than guess. Some parts of New York are ageless.

Morning Walk
I walked just over three miles before hopping on the subway. It felt good.

My route took me past Macy’s and up through the garment district. I’d worked for a few months in the garment district back around 1983 when I audited the Taxi and Limousine Commission for my job with the New York City Comptroller’s Office Bureau of Financial Audit. Other than pedestrians walking to work at 8:30 in the morning, there wasn’t much activity on the streets. In a few hours, however, there would be men pushing racks of clothes up and down the avenue.

Don’t think the streets weren’t crowded — they were. If you’ve never been to New York, you can’t imagine the foot traffic on the sidewalks in midtown Manhattan. Thousands of people, all going somewhere. And tourists, wandering about, looking like tourists.

Tour sales guys prey on them, trying to sell all kinds of city tours and show tickets. I like to think that most of them are legit, but I’m sure there are more than a few con artists making the rounds. One approached the man next to me as we were waiting for a light. I didn’t hear his come on line, but I did hear the man’s indignant response: “I live in New York.” None of them approached me. In my jeans, walking shoes, and flannel jacket I looked like a native. After all, I was a native. (And glad I still looked like one.)

It felt good to walk the streets of New York again. Really good. Not good enough to make me want to move back there, though.

Times Square
Times Square, before the tourists arrive.

I reached Times Square and paused to look around. It was pretty empty; the tourists would arrive later. I snapped a photo to remember the place, then continued on Seventh. At one point, a man stopped me to ask if I’d be willing to answer some questions. I said no even before I saw his companion’s FoxNews microphone. Real New Yorkers don’t get interviewed in Times Square — and I knew I’d be wasting my time giving my opinion to Fox News anyway.

I continued north through the Theater District and turned right on 57th Street. I stopped at a jewelry store to take care of business, then continued on my way. When I reached Fifth Avenue and saw the Apple Store, I realized it would be a great opportunity to descend into the cube (for the first time) and see about getting my phone fixed by a “genius.” (The battery life had gotten very bad.) So I stopped in for a visit. While waiting to schedule an appointment, I helped the guy on line behind me fix his locked up iPhone by simply teaching him how to reset it. Because I couldn’t get an appointment that morning in that store, I made one for 10:30 at Grand Central. Then I climbed back to street level and continued on my way.

I got as far east as Third Avenue. This wasn’t far from where a college boyfriend’s parents had lived — 58th and First. I’d spent a lot of time there in my senior year (1981/1982). Although the place felt the same, I didn’t recognize any landmarks. I turned south. But not liking the neighborhood on Third, I headed west and took Madison south. I made one more stop at a jewelry store on Madison before making my way to Grand Central.

Grand Central Terminal
The main concourse at Grand Central Terminal. The Apple Store is under those big windows.

If you’ve never been to Grand Central Terminal (not Station), the next time you’re in New York, go see it. If your time in the city is limited, skip the touristy sights like Times Square (big deal) and (dare I say it?) the World Trade Center site — Grand Central is a magnificent piece of architecture celebrating its 100th birthday this year. Wander around on the main concourse and in the myriad of tunnels leading to surprising locations. Admire the famous clock. Visit the food court down below. And step into the Apple Store.

This is, by far, the best Apple Store I’ve ever been into. It sprawls along the east end of the upper level of the terminal, in full view of the main concourse. It’s an amazing mix of old architecture and new technology, two different worlds of design with 100 years separating them, melding together in a delight to the mind and senses. Really. It’s pretty cool.

At the Apple Store, I learned that my phone battery is almost bad enough to be replaced. Almost. I have 32 days for it to get worse and be replaced under warranty. (I guess I’ll be driving into Seattle later this month.)

Subway Journey

When I finished up with the Apple Genius, I headed down into the subway system. I bought a Metro Card, which I’d never had before. When I rode the subway, we used tokens. I think it was 75¢ then.

Today's Special
Neighborhood ethnicity is strong in New York. Maybe that’s why I’m not so critical of immigrants — I grew up in a true melting pot.

I took the train to visit some friends in Queens. I hadn’t seen them in a very, very long time, although we’d been in touch by phone and through Facebook. We swapped stories and memories. There was lots of laughing and crying. We walked to lunch at a Korean restaurant where we were the only non-Asians. The food was great. Even the walk was nice — fall colors on quiet streets.

And I got more of the closure I realized I was looking for. It felt good but sad at the same time. Is that what they mean by “bittersweet”? I think so.

All too soon it was time to head back into the city. My friend dropped me off at the subway station, I swiped my Metro Card, and I climbed on board a Manhattan-bound train.

Downtown

Downtown Walking Map
Here’s where I walked downtown. It’s nearly 2 miles.

I changed trains at Grand Central, switching to an old IRT express train heading downtown. A while later, I stepped out on street level in the covered portico at the Municipal Building, where I’d worked in my first job out of college.

The Municipal Building
Built in 1913, the Municipal Building is home to many New York City government offices. My old office window is the one near the top dead center in this photo; the window air conditioner is still there — I hope its a newer one!

The place had changed. The building lobby was empty, with just security guards and metal detectors. The newsstand near the entrance — where I’d bought a copy of the Daily News the day the Space Shuttle Discovery exploded on takeoff in 1986 — was gone. I was at an employee-only entrance and it only took a minute for security to notice me.

I told them I used to work there and that I was just taking a peek. And then I left. I did get a photo outside, though. So weird that so few people were around on a Monday afternoon.

I crossed the street toward City Hall. The entire park was fenced off, supposedly for City Hall renovations. A group of black and hispanic men were entertaining a small crowd with synchronized dancing and acrobatics while hip hop music blared. I watched for a while, then wandered on, remembering the “break dancers” I’d seen performing on pieces of cardboard on sidewalks nearly 30 years before.

I crossed Park Row and turned down Nassau Street. Years ago, I’d often come down that street on my lunch break for banking or shopping or lunch. I recognized very few of the storefronts. Only Wendy’s remained from those days.

Freedom Tower
New towers over old in this shot down a side street in the Financial District of New York.

At one point, I looked west down a side street and saw something that hadn’t been there at all in the 1980s: Freedom Tower. Still under construction, it filled the view, its glass and steel a stark contrast to the much older buildings on the street. When I’d worked in that neighborhood, one of the two Twin Towers — possibly both of them — would have been visible down this street. Even though I didn’t live in New York when the towers fell, I think I’m nearly as scarred by 9/11 as most other New Yorkers. This was my first chance to see the new building and I liked what I saw. It was different. We need different. We need to move forward.

Church Visit

A while later, I turned right and joined back up with Broadway. I turned south toward Wall Street and crossed at Trinity Church, where I bought bought a bag of fresh, hot, honey-roasted peanuts from a street vendor. (Do you know how I feel about food in New York?) On a whim, I went into the church. There were some tourists there, talking in hushed tones. One woman was wandering around the altar — which somehow offended me. (Yes, I’m a non-believer, but I do have respect for places of worship. To me, the alar and everything beyond it was off-limits, restricted to church officials. I guess I’m wrong, but it still bugged me to see that woman wandering around back there.)

Altar of Remembrance
I lit a candle here for my grandmother, godfather, and mother-in-law.

I wanted to light a candle for my grandmother, which I always do when I’m in a church that has an area set aside for that. I know she would have liked it. There was a special place set up — the Altar of Remembrance, it was called — where you could leave notes and photos for people who were gone. There was also a book where you could write down the names of the departed so they’d be mentioned in a Mass on November 4. I wrote three names: Maria Soricelli (my grandmother, who passed away in 2002), Jack DeGaetano (my godfather, who’d passed away the previous Monday), and Julia Chilingerian (my mother-in-law, who passed away during the summer). Then I deposited a dollar into a small box nearby and took a tall, skinny beeswax candle. I lit it from another candle and planted it in the sand in front of the altar. I lingered for a while while my eyes teared up. Then I took a quick picture and hurried out the door.

I continued down Broadway as far as Battery Place. That was also blocked off, although I don’t know why. I could see the damaged sculpture that had stood between the Twin Towers, moved into the park during cleanup years ago. I walked past the fan building for the Battery Tunnel — known to movie fans as the headquarters of Men in Black — and turned up West Street. From there…well, I felt done.

The Path Back

Freedom Tower
Freedom Tower, still under construction, in the late afternoon light. I guess I am a tourist after all.

It was after 4:30 PM and I realized that I was ready to go back to New Jersey. I wanted to hop on the Path Train, but I needed to find it. It used to be in the station under the World Trade Center; I assumed it was still in that area somewhere. So I headed east, crossing back to Trinity Place, and then north. I took a slight detour and found myself among a gaggle of tourists photographing Freedom Tower in the late afternoon light. A security guard stood behind barricades with construction fencing behind him. I asked him where I could find the Path train and he gave me directions: north on Church, west on Vesey, follow the signs.

I walked around the construction site and joined the crowd of commuters heading for the train. I descended into the station, spent some time figuring out which train I needed to take, and bought a ticket. A while later, I was on board, heading for New Jersey.

At Newark’s Penn Station, I got on a New Jersey Transit train to Rahway. It was an express with just one other stop. My brother picked me up at the station at 6 PM.

It had been a great day out with nearly 5 miles of walking. I was tired but satisfied. If I ever do get back to New York, I’ll do something like that again. There’s plenty left for me to revisit.