5/21-23 - C'est la vie!

Bonjour! Proof that I knew way more French than I thought I did came a few weekends ago when I and some friends of mine (and Jim, too, of course) took a road trip to Montreal. Jim, of course, came along. Though he seemed a bit overwhelmed with the mixture of English, French, and Mandarin (in Chinatown) that surrounded us, and was therefore thrown off his game a bit, he seemed to enjoy himself. This picture was taken from the chalet at the top of Mont Royal, the high place in Montreal. It's a charming city, and Jim and I both recommend it, for people as well as aliens. Very friendly and welcoming. Be sure to check out the Jean Talon market when you go!

I have some more pictures from this trip, but I don't have them with me right now, so more to follow...

5/8 - Woodstock

Jim and I met Bob Dylan on our trip to Woodstock, NY. I had to explain to Jim who Bob Dylan was before he was willing to to smile in a photo with the guy. Jim mumbled under his breath but loud enough so that everyone could hear that the guy I was excited to have a picture with seemed, in fact, a little lifeless and "aloof."Later that day, when we reviewed the pictures, Jim kept commenting on the amazing anti-aging properties of this photograph. Jim was amazed at how young Mr. Dylan looks in the photo, no where near his current age of 69. But, notice that he also looks a little flat and gray in the photo, which would tip off astute observers to the fact that he was, in fact, a cut-out. I didn't have the heart to tell the little green guy the truth. He's been humming "The times, they are a-changin'" ever since the trip, and it's a good song. Much better than the Titanic theme song, which he was humming. Anything but that song.

On the drive home, Jim requested a short stop to have his picture taken at the Pepacton Reservoir. It's a really beautiful place, so I consented, even though it was super duper windy and looked like it would start pouring buckets at any moment. Jim had trouble keeping his head up in the wind. Gusts up to 45 mph, I think I heard on the radio.

5/1-2 - Boston

At the beginning of May I went on a trip to the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston with school. On the way, we stopped at a rest stop. This sculpture was in the eating area. Perhaps in this photo, it doesn't look as horrendous as it did in person, which you, dear reader, should feel thankful about. Jim, of course, thoroughly enjoyed the sculpture, wanted to have his picture taken with it, and refused to leave it when it was time to board the bus to continue our journey. Jim should consider himself lucky that he is very small and easy to out-muscle, or he would have been left eating McDonald's scraps for the rest of his time on Earth.

Thankfully, Jim's taste in art evolved a bit as the trip went on. The group stopped, on the way to Boston, at the Worchester Museum of Art, where he asked to have his picture taken with this piece by French painter Julien Dupres of a peasant girl feeding chickens. It really is lovely. Jim commented on the calm colors and the softness of the brush strokes. He said that he wanted to be like Mary Poppins and hop right into the painting so he could help with the chores. He also

said he could almost hear the chickens clucking. I couldn't agree with him more.

In the courtyard at the museum, we came across this huge ball that looked like it had been recently rolled off the set of a futuristic

sci-fi apocalyptic movie. Very cool.

Below is another picture taken in the Worchester Museum. For a small collection, the really did have some great little oils.

When we got to Boston, Jim was starving (or at least complaining profusely that he was starving, whithering away to nothing, that he would be mere pocket lint in a few moments - high drama), so we went straight to the Cheesecake Factory. Of course, we had to wait 45 minutes to be seated, during which time my classmates found some good souvenirs and I scoped out a fountain that

had serious run-through potential. Long story (besides, this blog is about Jim, and he did not run through the fountain, so I will refrain from writing about how refreshingly cool the water was, and how amazingly soaked I was after, and how I left a small rivulet of water down the aisle of the bus...yup, not gonna say a thing).

These are, sadly, all the pictures from Boston. My camera died in the Museum of Fine Art before I had a chance to get a good picture of Jim there. He was very disgruntled, but he'll get over it. I did, after all, let him have some of my delicious chocolate mousse cheesecake. I will say this, though - it is an amazing museum and Jim enjoyed himself thoroughly. As I'm trying writing this blog, he is attempting to carry on an intellectual conversation with me about art, evidence of his recent educational experience. When I reminded him of the rest stop sculpture, and his profound love of it at the beginning of the trip, he said I must have been mistaken. I'm glad there's a picture in existence that reminds us all of the truth.

4/24 - a trip to Ithaca

I have been to Ithaca and passed this turtle...oh, I don't know how many times. On this trip to Ithaca, I met some friends, who wanted to introduce us to more friends who were playing at Cass Park. While there, Gaia, the giant sea turtle, was kind enough to let us climb all over her and sat very still for a photo with Jim.

On the way out of the park, we saw some pansies, and Jim begged to have his picture taken with them. He said the color would photograph well with his fuzzy green skin. I think he was right. To borrow Jim's favorite phrase, I think it looks super duper.

4/10 - An upstate New York tradition

The annual quest to the Marathon Maple Festival has been a spring tradition in my family for as long as I can remember. It's not spring until we've gone to this annual festival. Enduring the mild threat of spring showers, slogging through some mud, standing in line for an awfully long time just to spend 2 minutes in the sugar shack and get a tiny free sample of the year's syrup - this is spring. Not to mention the unique crafts, fair food, maple products for sale, used book sale, quilt show, and the great opportunity for people-watching. Glorious.

So, now that he has made himself a permanent (for better or worse) part of the family, it was necessary to introduce Jim to this tradition. And, he actually seemed to enjoy it. His favorite part, he said, was leaning over the boilers in the sugar shack, letting the sweet smelling steam waft through his antennae. Super duper, he said. Made him think of home. With a wistful look in his crimson eyes, he patiently explained that there is a field not far from his family's dwelling on his home planet that has steam vents. Each vent's steam, he said, smells different. Some are pleasant, like the maple syrup steam in the sugar shack (and his personal favorite), as well as one that smells a little bit like apple pie, and some that are not so pleasant, with smells roughly equivalent rotten potatoes and dead animal. I'm glad there aren't any rotten potato vents in my back yard.

3/21 - High places

On a Sunday when we were already in Owego, I requested that the family drive up to the cemetery on the hill, so that Jim could look out over the valley. He was very appreciative. From that spot on the hill, he could see all of Owego, and trace the Susquehanna as it wandered along. Still really warm for spring, so the weather was nice, but the view wasn't all that green. Jim, of course, still thought that it was super-duper. I think he's becoming more mellow as he's stayed with me. Always a good thing.

After a bit of standing and looking, my Dad offered to give Jim a better view, by having him climb onto the end of a long stick and holding him out over the drop-off. I was very concerned about a very small and light alien blowing away in the wind, but Jim said being on the stick felt like flying. Try and see if you can spot him in this picture.

3/19 - Exercise at Dorchester

It has been a surprisingly warm spring. Hot, really. Jim was itching to get out and enjoy the nice weather, because, though he liked playing in the snow, he didn't like being cold all the time (a fact which he made very clear several times). So, on a nice day, Jim and I went with some of my friends to Dorchester Park to take a walk and enjoy the unseasonable sunshine and mild temperature. It was strange to be standing at the shore of a still frozen lake and feel overheated because I hadn't thought to pack shorts for the day. (The picture I've included does not show the frozen part of the lake, as Jim wanted a "cool silhouette" to make him look mysterious).

Jim enjoyed the sunshine, and the new (at least to us) walking path. He ran for a bit, and said that it was super-duper (note the wide, contented smile).