1. The Deke and I spent our last full morning in Nyack with the windows open and the cool morning air filling the living room, lounging around, drinking coffee, and enjoying the silence, interrupted only occasionally by birds singing and cars slowly whooshing by. Once in a while we uttered a few words to each other ("want more coffee?" "need anything while I'm up?"), but mostly we enjoyed being quiet.
2. Early in the afternoon, we decided that maybe we should do something. Growler and Gill is one of my favorite taprooms anywhere, so we drove there, but they don't open until four. The same was true for places we might like to visit in downtown Nyack. I muttered that these places just don't cater to retired people who like a little day drinking. We shrugged. The Deke confirmed on her pocket computer that Defiant Brewing Company opened at 2:00. Defiant is a cash only establishment, so I went into a pub across the street to an ATM, got us a little cash, and we returned to Defiant. I like the 10 oz. pours at Defiant -- it's just the right amount of higher alcohol beer for me, no more -- and I ordered a Medusa IPA and drank it very slowly while the Deke and I worked our way through the best charcuterie plate we've ever eaten.
Defiant smokes their own meats and they use the smoker to make heavenly crunchy corn bread crustinis, which, along with the mild Asiago, Cheddar, and Gouda cheeses, add sweetness and balance to the smoked meats. But the real coup de grace of this board? The balsamic pickles.
Defiant does all their own pickling, too, and when I bit into one of those balsamic pickles, the heavens opened up and angels, their wings dripping with brine, sang hymns of praise and danced joyously to the sounds of Bob Seger playing over the house sound system and I had a brief glimpse of the Oneness of all things.
3. We needed a few groceries and I seized the opportunity to drive south on Rt. 303, through Blauvelt and on into Orangeburg, to pick up a few things at the Stop and Shop. On the way back to Adrienne's, I listened to a story on the radio about nursing homes that have lost power in Florida or had to evacuate residents and how the facilities work to continue to serve their residents under such conditions. It reminded me of a picture I saw when Harvey hit Texas, of nursing home residents waiting in their facility in waist high water in Dickinson to be taken elsewhere. I thought of the days I spent this summer in the nursing home being with Mom and could barely stand imagining the challenges that would confront the staff and the residents in Kellogg if there were a power outage, or, God forbid, water began to fill the place. I thought about how confusing it would have been for Mom and other residents if the facility had to be evacuated. Listening to the story of the difficulties that confront Florida nursing homes in the aftermath of Harvey was an afternoon nightmare and made me ache for difficulties Mom never had to face.
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