They say summer on the Fork lasts forever. It certainly does on this blog because the pool's been closed for weeks but oh look, a floating pineapple!
Daddy, is that one of those ginger and scallion crabs Mommy is always talking about?
You're not in Central Park any more folks, this is the real wilderness. Which must explain all the bearded men running around in flannel shirts.
Daddy, can we get this one on Zipcar?
Big Bay North. Soon to be connected to Big Bay South by 17 hours 40 minutes of abject misery.
All that's missing is a Pukeko and a gorse bush.
Don't even think of parking your kayak here unless you have a coveted Fleets Neck Property Owners Association sticker. NIMBY = Not in My Beach Yard.
All roads lead to the beach. Well one of them leads to a humongous city of 9 million people. Don't go down that one.
Are there sharks in Peconic Bay? Good question. We'll find out pretty quick with this plump morsel.
The Cutchogue Free Library is the most picturesque this side of Nantucket. Although the free part is a total misnomer after you take one look at your property tax bill.
Greenport, the biggest town in NoFo, has become something of a hipster enclave. I mean, how many stereotypes can you fit in one coffee shop? Cold brew cart attached to single-speed bicycle. Check. Faux-socialist manifestos faux-casually arranged on a minimalist, burnished-brass shelf. Check. Menu created with letter tiles. Check. Coffee that costs more than a cocktail. Check. If you can find one more bonus item you'll basically have Jared's house.
Read My Lips: No New Taxes. Well, except for the 2% Peconic transfer tax, the rubbish dump assessment, the marina fee, the beach parking pass, the sticker-for-your-kayak compulsory donation... And oh did I mention they're not deductible?
The Greenport Carousel. Well, basically the Brooklyn Carousel. It's the all the same people.
The Big Pip has a big thirst for craft brews.
There's only one way to get around the NoFo. Captain on the bridge!
Neighbor Steve illustrates the finer points of navigation. Such as: don't even think about crashing into my dock on the way out of the creek.
Late summer is sunflower season in the NoFo. Which these days means half of Brooklyn is Instragramming their way up the island. Luckily, as soon as you've got that kayak sticker you can start growling about those useless city folk clogging up your roads.
As American as diabetes and a coronary. With no health insurance.
Is that a First Order Trooper or a Stormtrooper Classic? Just like Coke, you can't beat the real thing.
On the NoFo you don't call round to the neighbors to check out their house, you do it to cast covetous glances at their boat.
Hard life all this chilling on the beach.
If you catch one will you really know what to do with it? Heck yeah, take a Gram and throw it back in.
The Astros are in town! Let's kick off the NoFo farm-to-food truck tour with a visit to 8 Hands, a working farm with a food truck behind the barn. Working, sure. Just like all those flannel-clad bearded dudes are cutting down trees not hugging them.
The best way to fix that bump on Hadley's head is to cool it with a single-origin cold brew.
I told you half of Brooklyn was here.
Not too shabby at all for a post-Labor Day weekend. I mean you don't even need a beach parking permit after Labor Day.
Astros or Yankees? Beer was the winner on the day.
The ultra-hip Kontokosta Vineyard is designed for those who don't know a Merlot from a Malbec but can tell you the exact difference in saturation between the Lark and Ludwig filters on the Gram.
The NoFoDoCo. More holes than a Ukrainian foreign policy proposal.
Bloody Texans, always driving the biggest vehicle they can find.
The sing-along hay ride. What does it say about today's youth that there's only one song they know the words to? Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo!
Daddy, I prefer walking across the road to Whole Foods.
Missing one Cahan kid. Step right up Lina, there's plenty of room on the chair.
All that hipster-idyll is shattered rather cruelly by a cold, hard dose of reality: the school bell is ringing!
Today's lesson: new beginnings. Like, you know, transforming into a gigantic robot.
No, not NoFo, Williamsburg. But I can see how you'd be confused.
Last weekend of September and the pool is still opened! Mostly because Rock forgot to call the pool company, but hey, the weather decided to bail him out.
It's like tailgating, except on yachts. Fleet Week in Greenport is one giant party, with a free flowing keg on every boat and drunken revelers trying to jump between them.
Good choice son, with a drive like that there's no way they'll turn you away on the other side of the Bay. Just remember, over there you call this a dingy.
Ho, ho, ho and a bottle of appropriately-warmed organic milk.
Who's ready for some kimchi fried rice?
In theory it's supposed to be winter. Nope.
Here's a lucky turn of events: Neighbor Steve is selling his old boat! She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts, kid. I've added some special modifications myself. Actually scratch that last bit, the only modification Rock is making is to add S.S. Rangitoto to the stern.
Usually pumpkins and the first snow go hand in hand. Not this year.
Hey Spiderman, would you mind grabbing me a craft cider with one of your webs?
Big Pip's birthday and the sun is still shining. Why a year ago on this day it was a cold 6am Uber to the hospital.
I've got a friend in you. And an enemy. Depends on the day really. And what toy is at stake.
The birthday queen prefers to be one of the people. No crowns here please.
Birthday donut by NoFoDoCo. Daddy, this thing is so yummy, why do they take the middle out?
It's like the pool is never closing. Heck, at this rate we'll be swimming in December. You'll be reading this blog then too.
Cheers to an epic summer of 2019. Start the countdown for pool opening day 2020.
