New England

Visiting the Cape Cod Potato Chip Factory

/ Tara Taft / 1 Comment

Accompanied by a few 14-year old girls, I arrived at the Cape Cod Potato Chip Factory at 3 p.m. on a Friday afternoon in June and followed the signs.

Once inside, we said hi to the women at the reception desk and walked down a narrow hallway, reading the signs and peering through windows.

We saw potatoes falling through a chute and on conveyer belts. We watched as workers grabbed random samples of potatoes potato chips and more potato chips, but we weren’t allowed to take any photos. We learned that it takes a lot of potatoes (4 pounds) to make only 1 pound of potato chips, and we observed the chips being weighed and packaged.

At the gift shop, we were given free samples (sea salt and vinegar and sweet mesquite barbeque) and bought two bags for lunch the next day (feta and rosemary and 40% less fat).

Located at 100 Breed’s Hill Road in Hyannis, Mass., the factory is open for free self-guided tours Monday through Friday, 9 a.m. – 5 p.m.

Trip taken June 2012.

Bolts and Delayed Fireworks in Boston

/ Tara Taft / 3 Comments

The sky was ablaze in Boston and Cambridge last night, with lightening bolts and cameras flashing while the moon rose. The late night sky was patriotic with the red shooting lights of flares, the red, white and blue lights on the Prudential Center, and fireworks appearing now and then above and beyond the Boston skyline.

Although thunderstorms were predicted all day, my family decided to take our chances and head into Cambridge to see the fireworks and to listen to the Boston Pops. Equipped with folding chairs, a picnic, blankets, games and books, we arrived around 3 p.m. and staked our claim next to the railing along Memorial Drive.

We were as close to the river as we could get without being on it and for the next several hours we hung out, chatting, people watching, meeting our 4th of July neighbors, playing games of Uno and Hearts. We read and ate and explored, amazed at all the state police and the people staking claim to bits of grass and pieces of sidewalk.

It was hot and muggy. Kids jumped off boats into the water (yes, they swam in the Charles River!), the event organizers allowed people to keep their tents up longer than usual (as late as 7:30 p.m.), and we bought root beer floats.

At 8:20 p.m., the concert began as scheduled with the “Star Spangled Banner” performed by the U.S. Navy Sea Chanters. From speakers along Memorial Drive, we heard the Pops perform “Olympic Fanfare” and the themes from “E.T.” and “Raiders of the Lost Ark” as lightening brightened the Cambridge skyline.

We listened to the Dropkick Murphys and Jennifer Hudson and to “Dancing Queen” by Mamma Mia vocalists, but we didn’t hear the “1812 Overture.” At 9:25 p.m., a public safety announcement asked us to take cover from the storm. Some did, but we didn’t, hoping the rain would never come.

Thirty minutes later, the rain still hadn’t arrived and the bolts had subsided. The Pops began to play, “Stars and Stripes Forever,” the last scheduled song on the program. People pushed up behind us, everyone eager to get the best view of the anticipated fireworks. Jennifer Hudson sang another song, and the U.S. Navy Sea Chanters sang a few patriotic songs before the music stopped.

After a long pause,  both the fireworks and the rain began. We leaned against the railing, ooohing and aaahing the fireworks between rain drops, kaleidoscope designs of every color and shape, hearts and boxes and shooting stars, the bang of each blast competing with the 4th of July playlist.

When the fireworks were over, my almost 16-year old son said the hours of waiting were worth it; we followed the masses to the T and back to our car.

Oink for Ice Cream

/ Tara Taft / Leave a comment

“Oink,” five 13-year olds said in unison, in eager anticipation. Over the counter, the bright eyed young woman’s face lit up. She clanged the bell and told her boss, “It’s an oink!”

Fingers pointed as mouths salivated, voices escalating with excitement and anticipation. Eyes watched the bowl of ice cream grow bigger with each request. Scoops of peppermint stick and coffee, bubblegum and mint, chocolate and vanilla, butter pecan and coconut, chocolate chip and peanut butter, strawberry and blackberry were drowned with hot fudge and butterscotch, sprinkled with candy, and squirted with whipped cream.

Five 13-year olds with five spoons perched around the small ice cream parlor sized table, hovering and tasting, slurping and swallowing, each determined to taste her favorite flavor. They laughed and giggled, jostled and cried out, as spoons reached across the table, and ice cream spilled and oozed melting stickiness and sweetness.

In minutes, it was gone. The bowl, the mess. The napkins and spoons thrown away. Only a few flavors lingering on messy lips; the experience eagerly anticipated now only a sweet memory and a hope for the next visit to the Vineyard. You can get an oink at Mad Martha’s Island Cafe, located on Martha’s Vineyard in Oak Bluffs, Edgartown, and Vineyard Haven.

Trip taken 2011.

Camping with Crocs

/ Tara Taft / 1 Comment

Bats swooped, fish jumped, and the sun set as I watched Kristina lifted her foot off the rock and let her Croc slip into the water. Dave grabbed a fishing pole and with a flick of his wrist attempted to rescue the shoe. but with each missed cast, the bit of plastic blue floated further and further out to sea. Now only visible as a black blob rocking gently on the water surface, the shoe was far from shore. As Sandy took over the fishing pole, Dave ran to the boat, shoved the nearest one into the water, and paddled furiously. Moments later, Kristina was wearing her shoe once again.

We were camping at Pawtuckaway State Park in New Hampshire, our annual camping weekend with four families from three New England states. Each December we choose a weekend and then in January reserve our three sites on the water. With eight children ranging in age from 6 to 13 that summer, camping brings us all together. We swim and kayak, hike and read, fish and just hang around. The kids play chess, hunt for sticks and catch frogs. It’s on camping weekends that they are allowed to be kids, without scheduled activities or plans, without electronics or toys. The adults watch, but not too closely, allowing them the freedom to explore and to imagine.

It’s a lot of work to go camping, and each year there is some grumbling before we get there. We bring tents and sleeping bags, folding chairs, wood for the fire, tools, cookware and dishware, fishing gear and boating equipment. We bring food to share and food for ourselves. But once we’ve arrived and the tents are up, there’s a peace and a camaraderie that doesn’t exist at home. If it rains, we put up the umbrellas and the tarp. If it’s hot, we find shade and go for a swim. We collect blueberries in August and roast marshmallows and sing songs around the campfire. Some of us get up early for a kayak while the water is still; others stay up late for a moonlit paddle, while the kids are asleep in the tents, and the other adults reminisce by the fire.

Pawtuckaway State Park has been our camping venue of choice for several years. The campsites are spacious, the restrooms are clean, and the park is accessible. Plan on making reservations early if you want a water site.

Surmounting the Beehive

/ Tara Taft / 4 Comments

Should we climb the Beehive? My 11-year old son wanted to; my 9-year old daughter was game. But my husband and I weren’t too sure. We read the Acadia National Park’s book of hiking trails’ description. We talked to a ranger and examined her photographs. Through binoculars we watched from below as little bits of color moved along the edge of the mountain. We knew there were iron rungs and exposure, rocky ledges and an iron bridge. The kids insisted they could do it. We decided to go for it.

We began to walk up the trail, pausing to read the sign. “Caution!” it warned. My husband and I looked at each other. Were we doing the right thing? We took a photo of the sign and continued as the trail turned from an easy meander to rock scrambling, boulder stepping, and hand grasping. The trail wasn’t as bad as I had feared. I followed my son with my daughter behind me, occasionally catching glimpses of my husband’s worried face below.  The kids were doing fine and seemed to enjoy the challenge of the mountain. We crossed the narrow iron rung bridge climbing the iron rungs up the pink granite as we would a ladder. Only 30 minutes later, we stood at the top, ready to take our photo with the town newspaper, my husband visibly relieved that it was over, I amused that the elevation was only 542 feet.

That evening, after more hiking, a walk out to some tide pools, and a lobster dinner, we stopped at our campground’s store for some ice cream.  As we licked our ice cream, preparing to play a game of Uno, I noticed a laminated newspaper article posted on a map of Acadia on the store’s bulletin board. The headline read, “Man Dies In 200 Foot Fall Off Beehive.” We laughed knowing we never would have climbed the Beehive if we’d seen that article the night before.

A Day in the Life of Little Women

/ Tara Taft / 1 Comment

“ ‘Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,’ grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.” After reading the first sentence of “Little Women” I was hooked. I was 8 years old and a book worm, and though my mom told my teacher I was too young, I read and finished Louisa May Alcott’s book in third grade. I memorized and acted out the first scene with my third grade friends; Mary was Meg, Deanne was Beth, Michelle was Amy, and I was Jo. But it wasn’t until 4th grade that I discovered the book was somewhat autobiographical and that Jo was really Louisa.

A couple of weeks ago, I visited Orchard House where Louisa lived with her sisters, Anna, Beth, and May, and where “Little Women” was written. Located in Concord, Mass., Orchard House is a museum for lovers of books, of Louisa May Alcott, and especially of “Little Women.” You can see the desk Louisa’s father built for her, May (Amy)’s paintings on the walls, Beth’s piano, and in the month of May, you can see Anna (Meg)’s wedding dress.

After perusing the other books written by Alcott in the museum’s gift store, my daughter, her cousins, and I ate lunch at the French cafe La Provence on Thoreau Street,

before watching a performance of “Little Women” by the Concord Players at 51 Walden. The play was true to the book, at least as I remember it, full of joys and sadness as well as morals and life lessons.

If you missed the performance, you’ll have to wait another 10 years.  A tradition begun in 1932, the Concord Players has performed “Little Women” every 10 years, missing only 1942 due to World War II.

Exploring Amherst

/ Tara Taft / 2 Comments

We explored Amherst the other day, my kids and I. It was school vacation, and equipped with directions, a map, and gluten-free food recommendations from the internet, we set off, arriving in the town of Amherst around 11 a.m.

With its white outlined brick buildings, tree lined streets, abundance of colleges (there are five nearby), eateries, and bookstores, it’s easy to see why the town of Amherst has been voted one of the best college towns in  the U.S. more than once.

After parking in front of Amherst College’s gym, we checked in at the Robsham Memorial Center for Visitors before wandering around the private school’s 1000-acre campus. Few of the college’s 1800 students were around (where were they? At lunch? In class?), and my voice echoed outside between the buildings. The grass was green, the grounds immaculate, the buildings stately, the school quiet.

A mile up the road we found the lunch place I’d read about, The Loose Goose. We each chose a different sandwich (from hummus and avocado to turkey and bacon) on a different type of bread (French baguette, ciabatta roll, and even gluten-free sandwich bread) before exploring a few of the shops down the street.

After an ice cream at Bart’s, it was time for our 2:30 tour of UMass.

The University of Massachusetts 1,450-acre campus was bustling, and people were everywhere. Only a short distance from Amherst College and only one and a half times its acreage, UMass’s total student population is over 27,500. We joined a tour of 50 other parents and teens and explored the campus with its variety of architecture, from quaint New England brick buildings to the new 26-story library.

We learned that students at any of the five area colleges, Smith College, Mt. Holyoke College, and Hampshire College, in addition to UMass and Amherst College, can take classes at any of the other schools. Even men can take classes at the all-women schools of Mt. Holyoke and Smith.

We didn’t make it to nearby Northhampton or to any of the other campuses, but instead headed home, our first impression of Amherst, and especially UMass, a good one.

Trip Taken April 2012

Soweto Gospel Choir in Boston

/ Tara Taft / 2 Comments

Six months ago we were in South Africa, and two weeks ago we were there again, as we watched and listened to the Soweto Gospel Choir in Boston’s Symphony Hall on February 12.

The New England audience was staid at first, barely swaying or tapping to the beat as the choir sang and moved in brightly colored costumes to the syncopation of two djembe drums at stage left. Their voices blended and melded as the 15 or so men and women sang traditional African songs as well as more contemporary American spirituals including, “Shosholoza,” “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” “Many Rivers to Cross,” and “Swing Low.”

By the middle of the second act, the almost full house was rid of any inhibitions and the audience was standing, clapping and waving their arms as the dancers jumped, flipped and kicked, the drummers beated, the singers crooned and trilled, the choir harmonized.  As the music slowed, the audience swayed to the sensual sounds and lyrics of “Arms of an Angel,” a performance which inspired its own standing ovation.

With a tribute to Miriam Makeba, the choir ended the second act with “Pata Pata” bringing the audience to their feet, its clapping ceasing only when the drums and the melodies began again for two encores.

Since the Soweto Gospel Choir was formed in 2002 to celebrate inspirational African gospel music, the group has won three Grammy awards for their albums “Blessed” and “African Spirit” and for Best Movie Song “Down to Earth,” from the movie “Wall-E,” a collaboration with Peter Gabriel. The choir has performed all over the world for various dignitaries and with many leading performers.

Photo from artpropelled.blogspot.com.