Looking Forward


Coming to a joint-decision, compromise or creating consensus in a marriage can be a challenge and when it’s done skillfully with love and patience, its incredibly rewarding. For years my husband Philip has been living in fear that he will eventually be coerced into moving from our home in Saratoga Springs to my hometown, Glens Falls. For some people, a move 15 miles away may not seem like a big deal, but this is not the case with us. You see, my husband’s quality of life is directly proportionate to the distance of his employer to his home and we live less than a mile from his office in Saratoga. Riding his bike or walking through our neighborhood park is an activity that he looks forward to daily. Being able to come home for lunch, give the dog a walk or just pop in to pick up a forgotten item is a convenience that most people do not have, and he greatly appreciates it.

Although I empathize and understand the value of proximity to work, there still exists a bit of tension over my wish to head north to my hometown and Philip’s desire to stay put. Over the course of our marriage, one of his favorite (and slightly cynical) declarations has become, “I know, I know, everything is better in Glens Falls.”

An indisputable prospective that we share is that living in Saratoga has been a great financial investment and a wonderful place to raise our boys. We love our neighbors and the historic Eastside of the city. The real estate has proven to be a sound place to put our money, and now that are kids are grown up, we are able to rent our house during race track season to make additional income. Although I assure Philip that I agree we are doing the sensible thing by living in Saratoga, there are certain times when my mind could be changed, and I could pick up and move back to my hometown. 

With all of the positive attributes that living in Saratoga has to offer, what could possibly drive my desire to move back to my hometown? On the surface, I have been restless, experiencing a need for a change of scenery. I also believe there is potential for financial investment coupled with an undeniable fondness in my heart whenever I am in Glens Falls. Walking through the old neighborhoods and around downtown, my mind wanders back to what once was and to where this town could be going with a little more attention and investment. What comes up from the depths of my being is a sense of creativity and excitement and the desire to be on the cutting edge of something great— a place that is coming back to life after some rough years— and a chance to make a difference.


One of my favorite places, The Crandall Library

Recognizing that our points of view are equally important and relevant to our happiness as individuals and a couple, Philip and I have spent countless hours daydreaming; inventing and reinventing scenarios in which we could both feel our needs are being met. Driving in the car or sitting at the breakfast table we volley ideas back and forth. We scan houses over and over again on Zillow testing the waters and our feelings about moving. I’ve come to realize that Philip may be somewhat moveable on this idea if it makes “good financial sense.”

We explore the idea of buying a second home (perhaps a duplex) in Glens Falls so we can rent the Saratoga house more often and vacate to Glens Falls. We crunch the numbers to see if it makes sense financially. Can we accurately speculate how much income can we make renting the Saratoga house in the off season? What are the taxes like in Glens Falls? Do we really want to be land lords? We start to form thoughts about our comfort level in taking on more risk and living with what we do and do not know.

This is a familiar process that the two of us create and move through. We have practiced it many times in our marriage, and I am always grateful for the compatibility that Philip and I share when taking on risk in both investments and employment opportunities. I can trust that he is not going to make a case for a rash decision and that we will take the time to talk a it through over and over again. I also know that we have a similar pace in making decisions, and that when we do hit on something that “adds up” and feels right, we have the confidence to go for it.

Happily, after months (maybe years) of considering life in Glens Falls, we have landed on a plan that is the perfect amalgamation of both our ideas and what we feel we need to sustain us economically, creativity and spiritually. It’s the perfect balance of generating income, being in new surroundings and not taking on too much risk until we have a clearer picture. The process which involves moving to Glens Falls has been no different than any other decision that we have made together. When, jointly, we hit on the right scenario, we both knew it.

So, here’s what we came up with. We move to Glens Falls for one year. We rent, not buy, a small place to live, and we post a listing for our home on AirBNB to see just how much cash we can roll in to our bank account. Knowing that we have our August track rental secured for 2015 allows us to tip toe into the next phase of living in Glens Falls, for the short term. The decisions about long term can come later, when we know more.

Our co-created adventure in Glens Falls is proving to be a lot of fun, and this is very important. I never want to feel stagnant or afraid to make change. In the end, however, the process with which we move forward is considerably more valuable to me than the direction in which we go.


Home sweet home, Glens Falls style

A Missed Opportunity

ImageSometimes it’s a bit painful to look back on life and recognize a potential missed opportunity—a treasure overlooked. As an adult, I know intellectually that there is no way to change the past. My thoughts however lingered recently on what I didn’t know as a kid and how a lack of knowledge could have shaped my future.

It all started with Ansel Adams. The Hyde Museum in Glens Falls was exhibiting the photographic works of Ansel Adams. Having only a few days before my job got busy again at the farm, I decided to do some research on the show and take myself to the Hyde for an afternoon. Heading straight to the museum’s website, I realized that there was more than just an Ansel Adams exhibit. The museum had brought together a large body of painterly photographers known as the Photo-Secessionists and curated a show of oil paintings titled Winter Light. Looking over the array of exhibits clinched my decision to drive over to the Hyde immediately.

Visiting the Hyde Museum is always a bittersweet experience for me. Enjoying many hours of my life looking at this impressive collection, ducking in and out of rooms and fantasizing about living in the original house is the sweet part. Yet, I often feel a little saddened by the state of affairs of the neighborhoods around the museum, specifically the paper mill with the spewing of smelly biproducts from the smoke stacks and the rundown condition of some of the housing near by. In my mind’s eye, the entire Warren Street corridor is thriving with middle-class homes and businesses, and I hold out hope that the rebirth happening downtown will eventually encourage some sprucing up around the Hyde.

Today, while poking around on the Hyde website, another aspect of this extraordinary gem came to mind, The de Blasiis Chamber Music Series. The Chamber Series was started by the de Blasiis family of Glens Falls when they began inviting local and national artists to perform at the First Presbyterian Church on Glen Street. Later, the series moved to the Hyde Museum and it continues to thrive there today.


First Presbyterian Church of Glens Falls

The crowning jewels of the de Blasiiis family and the Concert Series were Giovannina (Gio) and Virginia (Ginny) de Blasiis. To me, they embodied musical genius and refinement. Ms. Virginia de Blasiis was a fine violist and her sister Gio was an equally accomplished pianist. Ms. de Blasiis was my violin teacher at Jackson Heights Elementary School, and she taught every violin, viola, and cello student in the entire public school system.

Ms. de Blasiis introduced me to the violin and was an infinitely patient woman. The best and most formative memories that I have of Jackson Heights Elementary School revolve around music: playing in the orchestra, eating lunch with fellow violinists and Ms. di Blasiis every Friday for extra lesson time and occasional moments of actually picking up my teacher’s instrument and playing it. In fact, during this period of my life, I loved music so much that I wanted to become an orchestra conductor.


Jackson Heights Elementary School

What I knew about Ms. de Blasiis when I was a young student was very limited. I knew that she had a really amazing sounding violin. I knew that she had a musical family. I knew that she must have practiced a lot because her calloused fingers tips and left mandibular bone indicated years of dedication. And I knew when she played the violin it sounded like nothing I’d ever heard before. Having no reference point for any of these attributes, there was no way for me to know what it meant to study with Ms. de Blasiis, until today.

While looking over the de Blasiis Concert Series website, I came across a biographical statement of Virginia. This is what I learned:

Ms. de Blasiis studied at the Curtis Institute, The Juilliard School, and Skidmore College. She was concertmaster of the Vermont Symphony, played with the Schenectady and Glens Falls Symphonies, and taught in the Glens Falls school system.

Even a few years ago, this information might not have packed such a powerful punch. However, by witnessing my stepson, Christopher, preparing and applying to conservatories all over the country, I have come to understand what it means to attend Curtis Institute and The Juilliard School. It means that you are among the finest musicians in the country—the top of the heap!

Taking this one step further, to study with a graduate of Curtis and Juilliard is a serious privilege. Parents who wish to pay big bucks to help their son or daughter pursue a conservatory experience seek out teachers like Ms. de Blasiis. And here she was. The cost was nothing to play the violin in our public school and receiving her instruction was just part of the package. I can’t help but wonder what she thought about teaching a lot of violin hacks (myself included).

Although mostly, I wondered what I could have accomplished musically if I had practiced more and appreciated the opportunity before me. The thought stings. Unfortunately, this is how life is dealt out. Children have no way of understanding the depth of potential in a scenario such as this. Likely, most adults (parents) don’t even have a reference point to know the value of a conservatory-educated music teacher. I must accept with some small level of regret that I missed that boat, and it isn’t coming back.

As I walked the grounds of the Hyde Museum after viewing the glory of Ansel Adams and all the spectacular exhibits inside, I felt lifted up. I see now that Ms. de Blasiis is just like this great institution. Virginia was an island of beauty, artistry and genius surrounded by the grit of everyday life. And, like the Hyde, she continues to inspire through the de Blasiis Concert Series and enrich the lives of those who seek cultural nourishment here in our hometown.


Snow Days


A few nights ago, I turned on the local news to watch the weather forecast. Hearing rumors about snow coming, I wanted to put my finger on the pulse and get the (hopefully) unexaggerated story. If you live in the northeast, you learn to quickly to dismiss most accounts of a “huge snow storm coming” until you have the local weatherman’s prediction. It is easy to get people up in arms these days about the weather. A few inches of snow coming? The lines at the supermarket become unbearable. People flock to stores to stock up as if we will be alone in our houses for days with no means to obtain provisions. Generally speaking, there seems to be more concern about the weather than there ever was when I was a young person growing up in Glens Falls. Affirming this theory was the news broadcast of widespread school closings the night BEFORE the storm hit. This occurrence of preemptive school closings is unprecedented (as far as I know) for what was going to be less than a foot of snow.

This mild hysteria got me reflecting on snow days in Glens Falls. Most parents today greatly exaggerate their childhood challenges of walking miles to school every day, over hills, in any kind of weather, without shoes (just kidding). For those who grew up in my hometown, this depiction is not that far from the truth. We did (and students still do) have to walk to school and back home everyday. There are no daily buses for the city school district. As students, we walked to elementary school, junior high, and high school. Without the concern for getting buses safely to and from schools, snow days were scarce. I can remember mornings of becoming really angry because every school district surrounding Glens Falls was closed, yet we had to schlep to school. My sister and I would lie in bed with the clock radio tuned into WWSC waiting and hoping to hear that we had a snow day. On the rare occasion that our school was closed, it meant there was a lot of snow, and we were incredibly excited!

SignSome of the greatest memories that I have of my hometown revolved around snow days and a hearty snowfall. Today, with a foot or so of fresh snow on the ground, I set off to explore my favorite winter spot in Glens Falls—Crandall Park. Engulfed in sunlight and sparkling, crystallized snowflakes blowing through the trees, the park looked as beautiful as I remembered it. The snow was piled deep and the city had plowed all the roads through the park, so I was able to take in all the sites.

Spotting the pond, I stopped my car and got out. Although the ice was frozen solid, the city had not yet plowed off the snow to make way for skating. In fact, I don’t know if the city clears the ice anymore at all, but when I was younger, this park was my very favorite place to be in the winter because I could skate all day.

In my youth, I had a ritual for getting ready to go over to Crandall Park. First came warming my skates on the forced hot air vent in our home on Flandreaux Avenue. The hot air blower was prime real estate in our house, and you had to fight for your moment on the big vent in the living room. Once I was successful in securing my turf and the chill was taken off my skates, I’d tie on a new pair of homemade yarn pom-poms. This little craft project of making pom-poms was executed by wrapping one long piece of yarn around my mother’s pack of cigarettes, over and over again. Once the winding was significantly adequate, I would tie the yarn together on one side of the pack, and then cut the opposite side of the yarn bunch to free the cigarette pack and form the pom-pom. The final step was securing it to the laces of my skates. Usually by the time I got home hours later, the entire thing had unraveled and I didn’t mind. It meant that I got to make another for the next trip to the rink.

Skating for me was a time of daydreaming and quiet. Sometimes, I went alone. Sometimes, I went with friends. Sometimes, I went to watch the boys in my class play hockey in the rink near the YMCA. The feeling that is captured in the recesses of my memories is one of peace and self-worth. I liked to skate, and I was good at it. (In fact it was the only athletic activity at which I excelled.) Overcoming fears of falling by challenging myself to skate backwards or conquer the long, steep icy ramp that led from the clubhouse to the big rink helped to create confidence that I may not have had otherwise. If there was a chance to go skating at night under the lights, it was pure magic.

Crandall PondToday, I watched as a couple of determined citizens cleared a patch of ice on the small pond and skated around shooting a hockey puck back and forth. The foot of fresh snow could not stop these skaters from having some fun. Hearing the sounds of skates and laughter brought a wonderful and nostalgic sensation to my heart and mind.

I wandered over to the clubhouse to visit the large rink from my past that was created by flooding the baseball playing field on Glen Street. Much to my disappointment, the rink was not there. The clubhouse, which looks nicely restored, stood on the hill alone—no kids running in and out and no icy hill to navigate before entering the large rink. My heart sunk. I could not help but think that this is a big loss to the city. Having free outdoor activity accessible to all is vital to retaining families at every socioeconomic level. Crandall Park certainly provides free family benefits in the summer months and provides beautifully maintained walking and skiing trails in the winter but the elimination of the rink leaves a hole in this recreational treasure.
ClubhouseI have no idea when the City of Glens Falls decided to stop providing the residents with a skating rink or when it stopped plowing off the pond, but it is sad. As I stood there in the park, there was also a part of me that felt slightly responsible for being so out-of-touch with something that meant so much to me. Perhaps my generation, many of whom have left our hometown, took the value of the skating rink with them when they migrated. I wondered if there are people who miss skating and want the rink back, like me?

Looking over the field and thinking about my childhood spent skating at the park, I took another moment to find the beauty in this place without my past and without an agenda. I realized that the park (with or without the rink and skating pond) is still a truly magnificent place to explore. I hope that someday, there will be children on skates gliding, twirling, and falling across the pond and the rink again. As Glens Falls continues to recover and prosper, perhaps the resources and demand for winter skating will emerge and materialize. The park is waiting. Can you hear it calling?


Unusual Turf

Rare earth signAs I walked the downtown streets of Glens Falls on a cold winter afternoon, there were cranes and construction vehicles on display in front of a large vacant building on Glen Street. Windows covered with paper and grime advertised the promise of a new cafe soon to join the ranks of the downtown business sector. Walking past Sterling and Company, a prominent home goods store that has been open for 7 years, I couldn’t resist taking one last stroll through before they close their doors for good in a few weeks. The shelves were all but empty, and it looked like a ghost town. It would have been completely depressing if it weren’t for the fact that the space is so beautiful—-brick walls, tin ceilings and polished hardwood floors. I sent a wish out to the universe that this space will soon be filled with some vibrant and successful enterprise.

This is an example of the commerce cycle that I have witnessed for the last 35 years in my hometown.  One store opens, and another store closes. Yet, something seems different right now. Though tenuous, there is a spark of hope that things are getting better here. There is a palpable momentum in the energy of the town. People are living downtown. There are fewer vacant storefronts. And everywhere you look, construction and building rehab projects are sprouting up. And if that doesn’t give you hope, then take a walk over to the newly opened Rare Earth Wine Bar.

photo(1)Two weeks ago, Rare Earth Wine Bar on Glen Street opened their doors to the general public for the first time. Following this establishment on Facebook, I have been waiting for them to obtain all the necessary approvals from the state so that they could begin serving. The anticipation was building on the Facebook page. You might ask what the big deal is? That answer is twofold.

First, the owners of this establishment, Paul K. Parker and Michael Belanger, are first-class foodies. Parker, with deep roots in his family-owned business (now closed) Chez Sophie, and Belanger, a passionate wine authority, make up the dream team that manage Rare Earth. The food and wine, I predicted, were going to be fantastic.

Second, Rare Earth has taken over an important space on Glen Street. They are highly visible near the traffic circle between Raul’s Mexican Restaurant and the newly opened 166 Glen storefront. Filling this space helps to cement the feeling of vibrancy that is coming back in Glens Falls. Clearly, there are people who are taking on risk, working hard to cultivate a new downtown, and they should be applauded and recognized. The commitment these folks exhibit to downtown inspires me, and I’m eager to support them.

After just one visit to Rare Earth, I am compelled to talk about these guys. Just to be clear, I am no food writer. The proprietors of this restaurant truly deserve a serious critic’s review. What I hope to share here is the excitement of a new place and the experience of finding something of great value in Glens Falls. I hope that the regional media and local food lovers will flock to this place, and give Rare Earth the attention that they deserve for the years of experience and expertise of the ownership.

photo(2)The evening of our dining experience, we arrived at peak dinner hour and were greeted by a friendly hostess who quickly got us a table near the bar. The place was bustling. Surveying the scene, the vibe of the place immediately felt different from anything else in Glens Falls or Saratoga, for that matter. The walls were completely covered with paintings—so many in fact that one could make multiple visits and notice something new each time. There is a lounge area at the front of the room near the door so that patrons can relax in soft leather chairs and watch the crowds on Glen Street. (OK, I am being optimistic about the crowds.) There are tables in the middle of the room for larger groups and bar tables lined up against a wall near the bar. The whole place feels cozy, friendly and intimate.

Probably the most unusual aspect to this place is the use of iPads on all the tables. The menus are displayed on the tablets. In the near future, patrons will be able to order food right from the iPad and the request will go straight to the kitchen. Visiting Rare Earth Wine Bar before the official opening, not every bit of technology was working yet. The iPads displayed the menu but were not interactive and the credit card system had not been implemented, so we were asked to use cash. Not a big deal in my book. I was happy for the privilege to vet these proprietors out during the “soft opening.”

photo 3Philip and I settled in quite easily and started exploring the menu. Rare Earth is one of those places where you want to try everything. Fortunately, they make it really easy to explore a range of wonderful food options. The wine menu is priced on three levels: taste, glass and bottle. This encourages sampling and pairing with all of the food options available. Belanger is a Saratoga acquaintance, and his reputation for growing grapes, making wine, and investing in the wine industry precedes him. We put our wine choices in his capable hands and sat back to enjoy.

Now sometimes, you go to a place where the staff knows a lot about wine and you can’t trust them to pair all of your food courses for you without breaking the bank. That is not so here. The wines are all reasonably priced. Three of the choices (Riesling, Chardonnay, and Prosecco) are offered on tap. Belanger explained that Parker and he spent months trying thousands of wines to find the most interesting, affordable, drinkable ones for their customers. It was evident that the time invested in the research has produced some very fine and affordable choices. We tried some really super wines from Spain and France that neither Philip nor I had ever had before.

Getting right into the food and wine pairing, we explored the menu thoroughly. Each plate ranged from $9-$16. Hoping to find a great meal at a relatively moderate cost, Rare Earth Wine Bar did not disappoint us. Starting with raw oysters and a French white wine, we slurped down two briny little numbers from the coast of Massachusetts followed by two sweet and fresh little guys from Nova Scotia. Oysters were priced per unit and there is a special price when you buy 6.

It’s hard to follow such a wonderful opening, but the rabbit terrine was just the thing to transition us into the warmer, richer choices awaiting us. The terrine was perfectly seasoned and wonderfully moist. I was also happy to see that the bread being served with the terrine was from Rockhill Bakehouse, housed around the corner from Rare Earth. Seeing local businesses collaborating is important to me as a customer, and I am sure that there are others like me who appreciate the importance of building community between merchants.

For courses three and four, we asked that they be delivered simultaneously. Our Hereford strip steak with Bordelaise sauce arrived perfectly prepared along with our escargot-filled turnips. Belanger sent over a glass of Spanish white to be sipped with the escargot and a French red to drink with the steak. I was absolutely in heaven! This is the kind of food experience that makes me really happy. For me there were no weak points or “just OK” moments. I was inspired by the thought put into the food and wine and the enthusiasm with which it was presented. By the time we finished our meal with chocolate mousse and bubbly, corks were popping in the chef’s kitchen and some of the customers were watching (and drinking) as Chef Parker worked his magic. Everyone in the place was having a great time.

On our way out the door, I stopped to speak with three gentlemen that I knew from Glens Falls High School. I could tell that they too were swept up in the energy of the room and shared in the hope for this wonderful establishment to succeed. What I thought was going to be a quick exchange of words with my fellow alumni, ended up being a long, laughter-filled conversation. The perfect way to end the evening. I guess that’s how it is at Rare Earth Wine Bar….the place just brings out the best in people.


Hanging out with friends.

From Left to Right: James Morrison, Michael Belanger and Philip Reynolds

Pizza in Queensbury?

Harvest sign

View from the bar at The Harvest

For the first post in this newly-launched writing endeavor, I wanted to explore one of my old haunts that still appeals to me on many levels today, The Harvest restaurant. When I mentioned this to my Aunt (who lives in Glens Falls) she said, “Well, that’s not in Glens Falls. It’s in Queensbury.” So I asked myself if it was right to start this whole project by talking about a Queensbury business. After all, the Queensbury Spartans were the nemesis of the Glens Falls Indians in every way. Could I really do this? And the answer, of course, is yes and here is the reason. The “hometown” theme is more about what I hold dear in my heart in and around Glens Falls than the actual geographic boundaries. You, my reader, may find that I occasionally deviate and cross the line at to enter the 12804 postal area. Thank you in advance for understanding.

On to the Harvest…

A few years back Philip and I started taking up residence for a month each summer at Glen Lake about 5 miles north of the center of Glens Falls. One of the most convenient places to stop for dinner was the Harvest. I had not been there in years and had absolutely no expectations about it becoming one of my favorite places. However, on the very first visit (after decades of not dining there), I was smitten. Part of become a huge fan of this restaurant comes from being a kid and remembering the taste of the pizza. It is just so darned good and it possess a particular flavor and crispy crust that no one can replicate. This may be attributed to the consistency of ownership since 1972. The other reasons that I love this place are more about me as an adult and what I like today.

Reason #1: The bar. The atmosphere is super friendly and I like to look around to  see if there are any old familiar faces. Sometimes, I spot one or they spot me. This is delightful. There is also sport game on the TV at any given moment. In the summer we do not have television at the camp so it is especially appealing to see some baseball while we have our night out. But the best thing about the bar is that nothing has really changed. It is the same as I remember it from years ago. (This is also true about the restaurant area where families and bigger parties dine.) That aspect of the place touches a deep and nostalgic part of me. When so much in my hometown is lost or different, this place remains unaltered.

Reason #2: The pour. Although the wine and beer list is pretty standard, the Harvest holds the record (in my mind) for largest glass of wine. I mean this thing is filled all the way to the top! (see photo below) I usually order Kendall Jackson Chardonnay and if I can consume an entire glass, the staff are willing to sell me a half-glass to help me finish off the night.

Harvest bar (wine)Reason #3: The price. Philip and I have become accustomed to Saratoga and New York City prices as that is where we’ve spent the majority of our time in the last few years. Dropping $60 on dinner for two is the starting point at most restaurants, good or bad. At the Harvest, we can split a pizza for under $16 and feel totally satisfied by the amount and quality of the food. Add on the world’s largest glass of wine and a beer (for Philip) and we are out of there for under $35. As the family bookkeeper, this makes me very happy.

Reason #4: The bartender. Ok, I am not going to mention this woman by name but if you have ever stepped foot in the Harvest bar, you probably know who I am talking about. When this particular bartender is working, she is running the show. She never stops talking to everyone around her, bantering with coworkers and customers, and she never stops complaining. At first, Philip and I were pretty put off by her. We both wondered how anyone so boldly voicing such contempt for a job could keep a job. Did she own the place?

Then little by little she began to win us over. We started to notice that the bar customers liked her and that she knew just about everyone who came into the place. To our amazement, we started to find her amusing—the bar is her theater an she is the star of the show.  We also noticed that underneath all of the sassy-ness and saucy talk, she has a good heart and she is a efficient worker. This conclusion was confirmed the other night when Philip left his cell phone at the bar. When I called to inquire about it, she could not have been nicer and assured us that she would put it in a safe and secure place until we could pick it up. She also told me I could come by as early as 8:00 the next morning and she would make sure that someone in the kitchen got me the phone. We were really impressed. I love being challenged to give up what I think I know and find an unexpected twist to a story. Bravo, Ms. Bartender.

Harvest pizzaReason #5: The unflappable flexibility. When I go to dinner, I like to be able to have what I like, and I can be picky and unpredictable. I don’t want the same thing every time. So when Philip decides that he’s in the mood for the “Harvest Best” pizza with no mushrooms, and I am craving the “Rachel Ray” with extra hot peppers, that is no problem.They will do half a pizza with my special ingredients and half with Philip’s choice. When our Auntie and Uncle Bob join us for pizza they like cheese all the way to the edge of the pizza and the crust extra crispy. The response is always the same, “Sure thing. You got it.”  I have never been told by a Harvest employee that I can’t have something exactly the way I want it. In the end, for all of the special requests that we have mustered up, the attitude that gets served might be spicy sometimes but never rotten.