This is THE MOST hilarious story written from sato owner Debra’s point of view. My room mate and I laughed till we cried and I think you will too:) Please read on:
My Stockton Summer
by Debra Malinics
Imagine weekends at a place that is a cross between the twilight zone and Animal Kingdom- Welcome to Stockton, NJ. Stockton is smack in the middle of agriculture land In this land, everyone is related. Everyone knows everyone. And anything you need is fulfilled at local shops. Step into the local coffee shop and anything you need is right there. Cleaning lady? – she’s the cousin of the owner. Mechanic? – he’s brother of the waiter. Need an air conditioner? The owner’s nephew owns an appliance store and on and on and on.The owner of the general store in town is an Asian woman named Li, She makes all her own bread, muffins and cakes. She makes her own dumplings, selling them for $6.95 a dozen.(Same dumplings are $14/dozen at Chestnut Hill Farmers Market) You can call Li early in am and ask her to make you dinner and pick it up before 6 pm for about $7. a person. The meal includes dumplings, main dish and vegetable dish, all very fresh, all made that day. Food is cheap here in Stockton….when Bern and I went to dinner at a local cafe, the bill for two was $24 with tip.
The first weekend, Bern and I were on the terrace, enjoying the day when we looked around and our little canine, Carmen was gone – chasing a deer across the meadow. She ran right off the terrace and we were in a panic as we began yelling her name. Now, this dog was the star of her recall class. The instructor told me that I will NEVER, EVER, have a problem with this dog coming on recall because she is so devoted to me and so completely focused. Well, I wish the instructor were with “me” right then and there because the only thing Carmen was focused on was the deer. As I stood and called her name, flailing my hands, giving her the “come signal” and yelling “leave it, leave it”, she could care less about me or my recall.
In a panic, we watched her run through the meadow and out of sight. We jumped in the car and started knocking on doors. I’m trekking into the woods yelling her name and the only thing I can think of is, “OMG, it’s tick season.” All through the town they have tick warning posters – telling people to wear pants and check for ticks and I’m in shorts, and this is tick capital of the world. I’m jumping through the foliage thinking I see ticks everywhere and there is no sign of Carmen. We are knocking door to door and of course, no one is home. Bern waits in the car while I knock and if anyone answers, I meet the neighbors. I meet David, who insists on giving me a garden tour. I don’t want a garden tour but now, I am on a garden tour. Bern is in the car making faces while David is guiding me gently across his rolling lawn while I shrug my shoulders and look at Bernie like “what am I supposed to do?” David tells me I must come back in two weeks and sit under the magnolia trees in full bloom. “Uh, OK I say, trying to get back into the car.” When I finally get away, Bern is saying, “What we’re you doing, an afternoon garden party?” and I’m telling him we have to return to sit under the magnolia trees and in the middle of this insane conversation, the phone rings. It’s Richard Kavalesky, the local animal control officer – and he has our Carmen.
I get the address and we rush off. It seems a woman was coming out of her basement to hang her laundry and Carmen was standing at the entrance, tail wagging, tongue hanging. When she emerged, she began to lick the woman’s face. The woman, an elderly woman named Rose Johnson, said “She was so friendly and well cared for, I knew she couldn’t be a stray.” She called Richard Kavalesky, the animal control officer, and he came and read the tags and called us. Bern and I headed to Mrs. Johnson’s farm where Richard had Carmen. When we arrived, the two of them (Richard and Carmen) were in a love fest. Carmen was shaking her booty and Richard was petting her. Carmen was very happy to see us too, and Richard said she was the most lovable dog he has ever come across – we knew that! We were so happy to have her back, we spent an hour chatting with them – Richard is an ex NY policeman, pilot, flyer, dog catcher and a million other things. He’s a character….Mrs. Johnson is sweet and elderly and had given Carmen water and some food which was so kind. When we got Carmen back in captivity, I wrote a thank you note to Richard and bought Mrs. Johnson flowers, signing them both from Carmen. I left the card on Richard’s animal control truck, and the flowers outside Mrs. Johnson’s door. Now, Carmen has a fan club.
Mrs Johnson loves telling people that “Carmen bought her flowers” (she is a widow) and she calls regularly to “visit “
Carmen. She arrives at the farm house with treats and lots of love. Richard also visits Carmen, aka known as “killer” as he affectionately calls her, to give us reports of bear and other animal sightings in the area. “Better keep killer on a leash this week”, he says, “Black bear seen on upper Creek Road.” He also took buzzed our house one night with his plane and gave us aerial shots of our house. He handed them proudly to us but all I saw were tree tops. I couldn’t figure out where the house was among all the trees but I enthusiastically looked at the photo pretending I saw a house hidden somewhere. He was our new best friend.
We arrived at the house one week to find a peacock in the garden! It was strolling around like it owned the place. naturally I called Richard Kavalesky and asked him, “will it attack us?” He said no but we could do him a favor and attack it. He called it a “pain in the ass peacock” and said he’s been running around the county for two years chasing that peacock. Seems it is the last of an original band of 7, now feral and a pain in the butt for Ricard. He asked me if we wanted him to try to trap it and we said no, as long as it won’t attack; Besides it’s kind of nice to have a peacock in our yard.
Well Richard then shows up with a net the size of Louisiana and of course the peacock flies off. (They can almost fly.)
After Richard left, however, the peacock returned and screamed all night in the field under our window, obviously telling us what it thought of Richard kavalesky.
One week I went to farmer’s market in nearby Sergentsville with Carmen. We had just finished playing ball in Mrs. Johnson’s field (she allowed us to use her land to play ball) and Carmen was very tired. At the market, there was a greyhound rescue group and a group of greyhounds. I was talking to one of the representatives and Carmen decided to lay down with all the Greyhounds and “settle in”, putting her head on the rump of one so she could take a nap. It was Carmen and the greyhounds, hanging out for the day. The woman was amazed saying the greyhound, who’s rump Carmen was using as a “pillow,” was one of their shyest, yet she was totally comfortable letting Carmen take a nap on her butt. That’s our “Charmin’ Carmen.”
After “waking up”, Carmen and I moved to another Jersey animal rescue group where Carmen jumped in that rep’s lap and began licking his face. This little girl does love to lick. Seeing Carmen licking the man’s face, the greyhound rep then came over to this rep and Carmen started licking both of them. She’s very dexterous with that tongue. Then Carmen met Elmer, a black lab and the two of them were rolling and playing in the grass and creating dust clouds with everyone was watching the two of them. By the time we left, people were practically asking for her autograph, and to bring her back next week. She charmed the entire market…. No one cared a bit about me returning, they simply wanted to see Carmen again.
We then headed to Bobbi’s coffee shop, which is next to the farmer’s market. On the porch, the ROMEO club – a group of retired men who meet daily – was gathered. ROMEO stands for “retired old men who eat outside.” One of the men is father in law of the woman who cleaned our house, and also the cousin of Brittany, who works for the owner of the coffee shop. (see prior paragraph – ask for anything in the coffee shop and you shall receive it).
Jackie told me to ask for Dick if I go to the coffee shop to say “hello”, so I asked if one of the men might be Dick. One man looked up curiously, “Do I know you?’ I told him that his daughter in law was working for us and that Richard Kevalosky, the animal control officer, mentioned his name because he is his second cousin, and I knew his wife orchastrated the Thanksgiving open house tour that I wanted to go on this year…. I suddenly paused and thought, “Oh my god, I sound like a townie.” And in that vein, I was introduced to all the Romeo men – Dick, Dick’s brother, Bob, his neighbor Frank, the mayor, Robert, and an assortment of other locals. Well, now that I knew them all, I asked if they would watch Carmen while I went inside to get some coffee and they agreed.
While buying coffee inside, I heard loud laughing and a little boy screaming outside. Alarmed, I rushed out to see Carmen straddling the boy, about 10 years old, who was flat on his back, while Carmen feverishly licked his face while he laughed and screamed …and the ROMEO men did the same. It seemed quite a party scene on the porch, but this is NOT something you see in the city, though it did seem to be great fun and amusing in the country.
Aghast, I and ran over to help the boy up, asking if he were ok. He looked at me curiously and said, “Of course, why wouldn’t I be OK? “I love this dog!” he said with emphasis…..OK, OK, silly me, I guess lawyers and law suits have not made much of a dent in corn country.
Everyone on the porch seemed to enjoy this little piece of action so I took advantage of the humor to get out of there before his parents showed up and claimed psychological damage. Now, whenever I go to the coffee store, the men ask, “where’s that dog of yours?” I think they want to use another 10 year old boy and have some more fun!
We had lots of visitors and guests. Relatives, friends from Chestnut Hill, work, and other people. It seemed every weekend we had someone. Tommy, Laurie and Pam, friends from riding, came down for a lunch that lasted 5 hours. We all had way too much to eat and drink. Laurie didn’t get home until 10:15 at night – Jimmy, Laurie’s husband, said it was the longest lunch he ever heard of. Laurie left her house at 9:00.am to go to a 12:00 lunch, called at 3:00 to say she can’t make it to pick up Jamie, her daughter at 4pm, but would be home by 5 pm, then called at 5 to say she hadn’t left yet. She called at 6 to say she’d be home by 7 so her husband waited for her for dinner, but she didn’t arrive home until 10:30 that night. What can you do?
Needless to say, the day after was not one of my great days. I think everyone was recovering from the excess of the day before. When we were leaving on Sunday, I was too embarrassed to put ALL the wine bottles out in the recycle bin (our landlord collects trash so we don’t have to pay a garbage fee – this is the country after all), so I took some bottles with me. They rolled and rattled in the trunk all the way back. Every time I stopped, I had another vivid memory, with sound, of the 5 hour lunch and all the wine we drank…..
Richard Kavalesky, the animal control officer, continued his drop in visits to alert us to the wild animals roaming the countryside, along with weekly phone calls to my agency in Philadelphia. My secretary would answer the phone and tell me that “Richard Kavalesky, the animal control officer from Delaware Township New Jersey is on the line.” I would pick up the receiver and hear…..“Hello, this is Richard Kavalesky animal control officer for Delaware Township New Jersey. I wanted to let you know of a bear sighting on _____Road. Better keep killer on a leash, we don’t want her getting into trouble with bears.” Each time he called, he would preface his call with the entire introduction as to who he is. Finally, I just blurted out. “Richard, Richard, I know who you are!” I think he was surprised that I did!
Bears were a common site in farm land. The front page of local newspapers had photos of bear sightings around the area. At night, when I took Carmen out, I was always jumping because every time I heard a noise, I would think it’s a bear – or a
cougar- or a wild something or other, and it is so dark at night. No street lights and people go to bed by 9. You can’t see 2
inches in front of you so when you hear a twig fall or a bush rustling, you run, or at least I did. I’d grab Carmen and back into the house we would go, my heart racing and feet pounding. After awhile, I’d open the door and say “here I come, there better not be any wild animals out there” and we would tiptoe back out. If I heard another sound, back into the house we would run. Poor Carmen must of thought I was really neurotic - inside, outside, inside, outside. She probably thought it was a new canine game we were playing.
One week, Carmen was whining and pacing the kitchen floor. As it got to be dusk, and then nearly dark, I couldn’t see anything but heard lots and lots of movement outside the window where she had planted herself. I figured there must be deer outside. I tip toed down the steps and snuck around the side of the house. In the field, there were about 10 deer. Because it was almost dark, all you could see were shapes moving about slowly, and when they turned, you saw eyes. It was so etherial and magical seeing this “living art” form. There were also lightening bugs unlike any I had every seen before. These would fly way up to the tops of the tallest trees, thousands of them so they looked like a canopy of stars under real stars. With the shapes in the field moving, and the eyes glowing and the lightening bugs lighting up the tree tops and the sound of twigs snapping and leaves rustling, while everything else was so quiet and so dark, I felt like I had entered another world…and indeed I had.
“The great crate race” took place on the weekend of the July 4th. I went- Bernie would not even consider it. Carmen and I headed over to the high school for the initial parade. Real majorettes twirling batons, the high school band playing “God Bless America” badly, the mayor in an open car waving a flag, a contingency of veterans, an ambulance, fire truck, and antique tractors driven by farmers bearing flags. God, I could be in 1955 America.
Everyone had a flag but me. People wore flag shorts. I had never seen flag shorts. I can’t even imagine where you buy flag shorts but one leg is red and white stripes and the other is blue with white stars. I think they are made from old flags. Isn’t that against the law? All this, only 23.8 miles outside of Philadelphia. Amazing……
And speaking of amazing, we often went to a local restaurant called the Rosemont Cafe. A local place with very good and fresh food. The first time, I wasn’t expecting much and was pleasantly surprised by its food quality. In Philadelphia, when you ask, “where is your chef from?” The reply usually involves a long list of the chef’s accolades: the training, the awards, the restaurants, all in a grand display of the chef’s talent and how wise you are to have chosen the restaurant. Here, I asked the same question, asking from where the chef hailed. Expecting the usual long response…..“Oh, the Culinary Institute, two years in Europe, a stint at Alisons then Amada” and on and on, this waitress listened to my question, paused, thought for a moment and said “Jamaica I think.” So pure, so natural, so honest. I loved it.
One day we were sitting outside the farmers market and a woman came out to offer Carmen some water. She was the owner of the gallery that I had seen, but didn’t go in because Carmen couldn’t go in as dogs aren’t allowed in stores. Silly law but hey? “Come in” Susan said “I Love dogs….” and so we did. Well, Carmen has a cultural side indeed, she loved the gallery. Susan also loved Carmen. “You can drop her off here anytime” she said, I’ll be happy to watch her if you want to shop. Never looking a gift horse in the mouth, I immediately accepted while I ran over to the Farmers Market to pick up some groceries. When I got back, Carmen and Susan were holding court inside the gallery. Susan was telling customers gathered around them, about Carmen being an island rescue dog from Puerto Rico while Carmen’s tail moved so fast, she was creating a new wind current. Whack whack whack, her tail slapped whatever was nearby – frames, furniture and displays….all the while her little bottom moving from rapidly from side to side in sheer delight. The gallery, and Susan, became regular visits for us over the summer. I’d walk Carmen in, drop her off, do some shopping and pick her up….what fun for us all!
I loved to see Carmen really tired after a play date or ball chasing in Mrs. Johnson’s field. One day, while ball playing in Mrs. Johnson’s field, I saw a dead animal. I thought it was a furry little dog and I went over, trying to find a collar. The poor thing. I kept thinking it had been hit by a car and dragged itself up to the field to die. I was so upset. I imagined a family searching frantically for their beloved pet. I called Mrs. Johnson to tell her, thinking she might recognize the dog. “Oh, Mrs. Johnson, I said, I found a dead animal in your field, I think it’s a dog, probably someone’s pet. I tried to find a collar on it but couldn’t see any”……..There was a slight pause and she said, “It’s not a dog, its a dead raccoon. I trapped it and killed it. They do a lot of damage you know.” ….. Welcome to the country.
One of the problems faced in this bit of country was that it was impossible to get a cell phone signal for any length of time, so when I discovered that the little country store in Sergeantsville, had wifi I was thrilled! Excitedly, I took Carmen with me and we settled in at the store entrance where there was a little sitting area. I plugged into the outlet and started working on my computer. Mr. Yum, the owner, came out, looked at the plug-in and said, ‘no plugs, too much electricity. “But my battery was dead and everyone plugged in at internet cafes” I said. “No, too much money, you use all my electricity”. At first, I thought he was joking, but he was dead serious. “But I’m a good customer I said, “I buy something here everyday.” My words fell on deaf ears. Mr. Yum would not budge and told me I had to pay $1 to plug in. I gave him my dollar but I was fuming. Did he know nothing about customer service? I had spent hundreds of dollars at this store, what was wrong with this man? Fuming, I continued to work, tallying up the items I bought over the weeks…. the amount …and the insult was growing.
As people passed by me to enter the store, many stopped to pet Carmen and chat, and a little light bulb went off in my head. After some introductory conversation, people would ask what the food was like and if I ever ate here. Bowing my head slightly and with the look of one who possesses secret information I would say….”Well, I did hear that one of the women who ate here was hospitalized for some kind of sickness”. Ahhhhh, sweet revenge.
As the summer closed and our rental was coming to an end, we drove around the countryside and continued to make discoveries. We found a beautiful “cut your own flowers” field. We found wonderful old houses on country roads and charming towns that we would drive to for the day. We would find back country roads with beautiful vistas. We found run down houses that once were beautiful. We found the most delicious corn I have ever tasted. We found small town people with hearts the size of cities. We visited our former farm, the Cuttalossa, and said hello to all the sheep and chickens and dogs and people.
One day, Carmen and I visited the Flemington dog park and when I arrived, I looked at the people and thought it was being filmed as a supplement for the “People of Walmart” web site where strange people are highlighted. Where did these people come from I wondered? Tattoos, big bellies and tough looking cookies were all about. OK I thought, I will try to create a common ground…..should I chat about tattoos, ink drying techniques, saturated fat, firm flat abs? I was amazed by these types that looked like they were from an alien world. I met a lesbian couple who looked quite menacing and mean, a truck driver, a gay man who was thrilled to hear I lived in Philadelphia as he wanted to go to the gay parade celebration and wanted to hear all about it (poor guy, I thought – I don’t see Sergeantsville as being diversified and he must have a difficult time living in the country, but then, New Hope was fairly close by…….but maybe if you were even a little bit odd, you simply went to the dog park to socialize. Maybe it was a gay and lesbian, bikers tattoo, body piercing, hangout place, I thought. Carmen of course loved everyone, piercings, tattoos and all. Finally, on my third visit, I actually met a charming woman who seemed relatively normal. I was immediately drawn to her normalcy, having exhausted my body piercing, tattoo knowledge, and I wanted to ask her “what brings you to this park of oddities and odd fellows?” but held my tongue. Turned out she was macrobiotic – lordy, how did she end up here? I wondered.
We loved to sit outside and read the paper in the mornings, have lunches outside (and inside) and take in the sweet smell of fresh cut grass. Not that we were doing any of the cutting. We had our country routine and it was a fine contrast to our lives in the city. Of course our garden at home was in complete chaos but we could deal with that later.
Our departure weekend was very sad. Richard Kavalesky stopped by to give us our last “bear watch warning.” Over the summer we had reported sightings of bears, bobcats and even a cougar – yes, a real mountain lion with 2 cubs, he said, so if I saw it, not to get close. Ha, I said, “if I saw a bob cat, I would be running as fast as my legs could carry me in the opposite direction, not heading towards it!” I was going to miss these nature reports when we got back to the city. Maybe I could focus on the threat of squirrels, raccoons and crickets instead.
On the last weekend, I did my walk through town, saying farewell to the Asian couple, who did well in spite of my botulism warnings, the ladies at Bobby’s coffee shop, the men of the ROMEO club, and the many people who contributed to the small town feeling. It took us an entire weekend to pack up from our “furnished” farmhouse. We had two cars filled to the brim with “stuff” and it is amazing how much we had brought. It took us weeks to unpack, put things away, start tackling our garden and feel back home again. The time spent in Stockton was sweet and readjusting was filled with many memories.
So that’s about it …..I feel like that travel guy on public television, Steve Ricks or someone….. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the picture of our summer that was really unlike any place we have ever vacationed. “My summer Stockton Vacation.” I wish you could have shared it with me….but then, you just did!
Needless to say, the day after was not one of my great days. I think everyone was recovering from the excess of the day before. When we were leaving on Sunday, I was too embarrassed to put ALL the wine bottles out in the recycle bin (our landlord collects trash so we don’t have to pay a garbage fee – this is the country after all), so I took some bottles with me. They rolled and rattled in the trunk all the way back. Every time I stopped, I had another vivid memory, with sound, of the 5 hour lunch and all the wine we drank…..
