Score One For The Weatherman

The weather turned out to be as advertised, and we woke up to a world of white, complete with snowbanks--we've never had snowbanks! All the folks who own big snowblowers have been frustrated over the last few winters, and today they were all out there running them up and down the sidewalks. There was a lot of snow to throw too, and they were sending their spouts of white high into the air. Happily for us, they went down our walk, so we are plowed out. It is below 30*, so I guess it will be with us for a few days.

It is kind of fun to see all the neighbors out in their front yards--usually we don't see neighbors until the summer. MyTreasure even met the new folks on the block who moved in in the fall. They have a bulldog who is usually behind the fence in their back yard, but today she bounded across the drifts to come out to the sidewalk to say hello. Her name is Millie.


Tonight will be pretty when everyone's Christmas lights go on, and maybe I'll take a walk around the block before dinner, just to enjoy the holiday spirit. And, I think I'll bake a batch of cookies for Jen and Chris who blew our snow for us. Thanks!

Lost Weekend

The weathermen on tv really take their jobs seriously, and they tend to get very excited whenever there is a major weather event in the making. Sometimes we get what they say, and sometimes it totally fizzles, and moves off in another direction. Normally, it doesn't matter if the bad weather bypasses us--that's a good thing. This, however, is the last weekend before Christmas. Time is critical here, and we need to know what is ahead of us.

This weekend was totally booked up for us--my annual doll club luncheon on the north shore was to take place today. Doesn't sound like any big deal, but a lot of preparation goes into it, by way of gifts for the other members, in addition to dolls and ornaments which will be swapped. Saturday night was to be dinner at friends--please bring hors d'oeuvres, yes I will, how nice. Sunday morning is the Christmas pageant for the grandkids up in Westchester, always sweet and touching, followed by brunch at the diner.

So, the weather reports start coming in by the middle of the week--bad, bad, more bad, especially for LI, which is going to be totally buried--don't even think about going out, you are going to die. Friday night the ladies from the doll club phone--cancel the luncheon--please call some members, etc, etc. Then, Saturday in the afternoon the dinner party falls apart--someone is sick, and besides, it is supposed to be a blizzard, etc, etc. I putter the day away, wary of going out to finish shopping--not just because of the predictions, but because it is Saturday--the last Saturday before Christmas, and who wants to be in the store wandering around with a lot of other people who also don't know what to purchase for those last people on their lists, who are always the problem ones that you have no clue what to get.

So far, late in the afternoon, there has been a dusting of snow, but the grass tips are still sticking out. I figure out what to do with the chicken breasts that I had thawed out to make appetizers for the dinner party. Actually a little bonus, since I find a great recipe out of the Weight Watchers cookbook, and we have a fine dinner--even if it is just the two of us. As a plus, there are leftovers...

So, finally at 8:30, when we would have been out at our friends', the blizzard happens. I look out of our upstairs window, and marvel at what nature can do. The sky is bright, and I can see the snow sheeting down, even in the dark--it looks almost like smoke spewing across the sky. It is supposed to continue through the night, and they have already sent emails cancelling church for the morning. No pageant either. Or diner. Lose some fun, but gain some time. Today I finished decorating, and tomorrow I will finish wrapping, and maybe find time to pick up those last minute things I need early in the week. That leaves two whole days for baking and food prep for Christmas day! Yay! I'll make it once again, and Christmas will be Merry!

Happy $$$$days

I can't believe all the ads on tv regaling us with the early opening times for the stores on Friday. It is bad enough that Christmas decorations were in some stores back in July--yes, July! Now we are being pushed get out there and buy, buy, buy before 7am. I can't even imagine being an underpaid retail worker and being told that not only do I have to give up my holiday to this greed, but appear in person at 3am, because the store is opening at 4am--or worse, not closing at all. The only group of people who have work of this necessity are in the health care professions. Life and death have no time card. Everyone/everything else is on the level of optional. What has happened to our priorities? No wonder the economy is in shreds. No one knows how to live life anymore.

I think one of the worst things that happened was the repeal of the "Blue Laws". Businesses were to be closed on Sundays. Everyone had at least one day off each week, and it was the same day for everyone. Sunday was family day. In my family, the aunts and uncles and cousins all met some place--either a park, or the beach, and we hung out for the day. Everyone brought enough food for their respective families, the adults had coffee from thermoses and crumb cake, and the kids went to the playgrounds and rode the swings--all afternoon, if they wanted. We would walk around the lake if we were in the park, or swim if we were at the beach. The most expense involved was a season parking sticker for the car.

Then suddenly we needed two incomes, so that we could buy the "stuff". Our teenagers took minimum wage jobs in chain stores and restaurants that required them to be available on fluctuating, rotating schedules, which made planning family events difficult to nearly impossible, since there was usually some sort of parental transportation involved. Or worse, the kids worked more hours so that they could afford "the car". Talk about spiraling! It is like the tornado sucking everyone into its center, with things falling off the sides as it goes along. Unfortunately, those things turn out to be quality time--our vacations, weekend family outings, even just everyday sit-down dinners.

I confess I went to Paramus Mall on one Black Friday. We were visiting relatives, and we just thought it would be fun to take the kids and go. Ha! It was packed. There was no place to park--not fun at all. The only good thing was that we weren't there to buy anything, just to look. It taught me that I never want to do that again. But, nobody else seems to think it is weird. I can't even conceive of standing on a line to get into ANY retail establishment. There isn't anything important enough inside any store to get me to do that. And, if people wouldn't participate, the stores wouldn't do what they do. We have all become hostages to "The Economy".

The merry-go-round doesn't need to stop for me--I was never on. I sure wish people would thinking about stepping off...

Sojourner Completed

I confess I have trouble following directions. I work very well if there are pictures, but if there are only words, I have to sit down in a quiet place, read through the directions and see if they make any sense to me. If they vary from what I thought they were going to say, I have to work pretty hard to "color within the lines". Sometimes there is great success--Sorjourner's hat. Other times, I have to go my own way--Sojourner's blouse. The hat went together backwards from what I thought it was going to do, but I got it, and it came out just right. The blouse was another story. I did what the directions said, but the blouse was no way going to go onto that doll's body. So, made a second one, and put it together my own way, and it was a success. Then I had to find buttons.

I have a small plastic ziploc bag that has miniature shank buttons, which would have been just the right size. No way could I find those buttons. I resorted to sorting through the gallon jar full of white buttons, narrowing down to the smallest ones, and located four antique glass little buttons that looked very nice after they were sewn into place. Yesterday while cleaning up I came across the ziploc that I had been hunting for, but decided everything happens for a reason. The tiny ones were plastic, and really the glass buttons are more true to the period of the doll. At any rate, I was happy with the way she turned out, and she made her debut at the doll meeting this afternoon. This journey is over!

Sojourner In Progress

There are people who stick in my head, who for no obvious reason, reach out to me. People I have never met, but they capture my imagination. One was a woman named Lily, who was beautifully eulogized by her son-in-law, at a funeral service I was playing (being a church organist). What he had to say made me sorry that I had never met the lady. Another is an unusual man who lived on Cape Cod, where we vacation. He made strange little drawings, and published odd books that look like they are for children, but they are not. He worked in pen and ink, which was an early interest of mine, but I have not gone back to it, due either to a lack of motivation or talent. I am tempted, since he makes it look easy.... but I am not fooled.

When my daughter (Mother Necessity) went to graduate school in New Paltz, NY, I came across a commemorative plaque for Sojourner Truth, someone I had never heard of before. How great is the internet! You can just put in a name or a phrase, and come up with a slew of information, complete with pictures. Lo, and behold, in an old dollmakers magazine, there was a pattern for a doll of Sojourner Truth. The pattern is a very good likeness, and I cut it out, and saved it. My doll club project for this month (this Saturday is the meeting) is a historical doll. Time for Sojourner! She is underway, but good grief, it is Monday (going on Tuesday) and this is as far as I have gotten. But, I will be finished by the end of the week, and I am sure she will live up to who she was--someone who lives on through the years, by force of her person. She spoke out for women's rights, and for the improvement of the lives of former slaves. We vacationed in Seneca Falls a lot of years ago--a hotbed for the women's rights movement. Odd how your life is all stitched together. So, tomorrow, she will get her blouse, and her cap, and I hope I have done her justice.

Top O' the Marnin' T' Ya'

A strange phenomenon takes place every year at Garden Fairy's annual St. Patrick's party. I win a prize for the Irish trivia contest, even though I do not have a drop of Irish in me. But, I am very trivialized. A couple of parties back I came home with a pair of shamrock emblazoned boxer shorts that ended up being a sensation at Sunday morning choir rehearsal--but that's another story...

About two parties ago, I won a small green velvet teddy bear, that when you squeeze its foot, it responds with "Top o' the marnin' t' ya'!" It went into the toy basket in our front room, and it resided there peacefully until one day it was discovered by grandson Haddn. Haddn found that he could press the foot over and over, until he had the full attention of every adult in the house. A couple of times I found "TOTMTY" stuffed into a kitchen cabinet by a desperate parent, and I finally took the little bear and sat it on the top mantelpiece, which is about 6' up. Haddn would bide his time until there was a large family party, and sweetly ask an unsuspecting relative if they would take the teddy down for him. Most of the time somebody in the know would catch him, and say "No--don't give it to him!" I confess that I am a partner in this little game, since I put TOTMTY out there in full view...

Yesterday there was a twist. The boy is clever, I will say. He asked for TOTMTY, and I said he could have it for a half hour, and then it would go back up on the shelf. After only 15 minutes, Haddn had moved on to something else, and all was quiet. The bear was not back on the mantelpiece, however. Later on in the afternoon, TOTMTY reappeared, but only for a few minutes. After Haddn had gone home, I realized that the bear was hidden away. I emailed and said we were on to his tricks, and apparently Haddn had a good laugh at being found out. I would have left TOMTY to his hiding place, but he has been discovered. I'm looking forward to the next round, as this silliness will probably continue...

Two Weeks Later--Already?

Two weeks ago today our son married his lovely wife, and we attended the biggest party ever. Boy, was I tired! The in-house company lingered for a few days, and then MyTreasure and I packed up our duds and headed to the big city for the honeymoon. Well--we stayed in the honeymooner's apartment while THEY went on the honeymoon. It was fabulous of them to let us stay in their centrally located, doorman apartment, and we made the most of our time, since the city is one of our favorite places, and we don't normally stay there due to the amazingly high cost of hotel rooms. I am astounded every time I am in Manhattan at the number of tourists, knowing that they are coughing up those big bucks to stay. Just when you think you are doing pretty well financially, you get a little reality check...

Anyhow, since our room was gratis, we could go and do other stuff. The first day we walked the neighborhood, and found St Vartan's Church, which we had never heard of. We did O'Keefe at the Whitney, Blake at the Morgan, Kandinsky at the Guggenheim, American Story Paintings at the Metropolitan, Verdi at the Met, Fraunces Tavern, Wall Street, the Winter Garden at the World Financial Center, Chelsea Piers, Avenue Q, the Staten Island Ferry, cheered the runners at the Marathon, and came home soaked from the Halloween parade. We ate on a range of sports bar to very classy--the only thing we didn't have was street food. It always smelled heavenly when you walked past though.

It takes a huge amount of energy to live in the city. The sheer numbers of people moving along the streets all day and all night, and the constant din that goes on uses up your senses. It doesn't ever stop. I was amazed when a friend took us around Chicago once on a week day, and there was hardly anyone on the streets and sidewalks. We went into a fancy store, and it was nearly empty. That simply never happens in NY. Well, it was Halloween, the marathon, and the World Series...but next week it will be something else, and onward to the holidays.

It was nice and quiet in my own little bed last night. The trucks emptying the dumpsters at the Hemsley from 2:15 until 3 am (yes, AM!) didn't wake me up, and I haven't heard a horn blow since I got off the train yesterday afternoon. There is a reason why there are the burbs... Welcome back, bride and groom--we wish you the best life ever!

Counting Down

It is Monday morning, and the big wedding is this Saturday night. Should be simple, right? Just dress up and go have a good time. I guess it would be if there wasn't food involved. I'm not talking about food at the reception--I mean food at my house. With all the time I am involved with food, I should weigh 300 lbs! I am either shopping for it, prepping it, cooking it, or cleaning up and storing it away. I need a break from food. Maybe a month in a third world country where there isn't any. Or a month out in the woods, where you only have what you can carry.

Well, I'll be on a little different schedule today--that would be cleaning instead of cooking. There will be guests staying in my sewing room, and the bed in there is perpetually buried in fabric. Anyone who has been in my sewing room says "What bed? There's a bed?" Oh well. Sadly, after two days work getting the room together, within a week it will have reverted to its present state. It's my work space--what can I say? I have to make another doll as soon as the company leaves, and that means pull everything out again.

I have one recipe to taste test before all of this gets started. I want to make sure we will like it so that I don't end up with several large casseroles that no one will spoon onto their plates. Now that I'm thinking about it--it's spinach--who is going to chomp much of that down? So--one pan it is. Glad we had this little chat!

Look-a-dis!

Yesterday GF and I went to a craft show of sorts--an expo for women's businesses. There are all sorts of things there on display, with some very interesting crafters who make soaps and lotions, publish children's books, sell exotic teas, and of course, the envitable jewelry. But, there were some excellent beaders, a couple of dollmakers (one a friend from Dollinks), and some gorgeous pottery. Love it!

One table got our attention--wonderful bags, most of them made from silk. Not the kind of thing you see normally. The woman brought them in from Thailand, made by women there who have been liberated from the "trafficking trade" and they are paid fair trade wages to make the bags. I had seen items before from Thailand--at that time made by Humong refugees. They do such beautiful work there, and these bags were exceptional. If I was a pocketbook person, I probably would have gone away with a half dozen. But, alas I am a wallet in my jacket pocket type of gal, and even though I love bags, and make them also, I avoid carrying one whenever possible.

So--wedding in two weeks. On the top shelf are evening bags all covered with satin roses. I already have two beaded evening bags, either of which would serve very well, but for heaven's sake--who could resist those roses? I paid for one which would match my dress, and we walked around and looked at the rest of the display. On the second pass, I decided that I just had to exchange the bag for the red one. Why be subtle when you don't have to! This one is going to just call out from across the room, and will probably make it out of the closet many more times than those quiet little beaded ones. You know that old saying--"Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere!" What do you think?

Caught Up A Little

It's been nice and quiet here for a couple of weeks, and our days fall into a pattern: MyTreasure gets up very early and gets to work on whatever project he has going, and I putter away at not much. I stitched up three pairs of slacks for myself, traced off a doll pattern that I will be working on next, cooked up several eggplant concotions that needed to be done before the eggplant spoiled, had some people in for food. I managed to free up some storage space by giving away the contents of a large drawer in our sideboard, and filling up a bag of cookbooks so that there would be less clutter on the shelf. Notice I did not say "nothing on the shelf". These days I go for "less clutter" and consider it a victory.

One of my peeves about the fall is that you don't know when to put away the summer clothes. My clothes are stored in big plastic bins in the attic, and once the switch is made, they are gone for the season. Spring usually is better defined temperature wise, but when the summer lingers and the temperatures vary from hot to cool, I never seem to have the right combination of clothes. Sure enough, I filled up that tub with my tank tops, and the next day was in the 70's. Then, Garden Fairy decided that we should go together for pedicures and that we should wear shorts, since they message your legs with lovely creams. I fished out the last stray pair from the laundry basket, and away we went. Very excellent! Especially with a friend to chat away the drying time.

Now it turned cool again, and my lovely wine red toenails are hidden away inside wool socks, and my sandals have gone into hibernation. Have to time this better for next year. Farewell, Summer. I confess I am sad to see you go.

Slow Sunday Night

We are one of the last households/holdouts that don't have cable tv. We have our aerial on the roof, and for the most part, it provides us with all we can desire viewing-wise. I would like to think we are not into tv all that much, but somehow I manage to find enough to keep me amused of an evening. What really appalls me is when we are travelling, and we have all those wonderful cable possibilities, and there still isn't anything on that I want to watch. So, I have never felt the lure to sign on with the system that is going to send me a monthly bill--another monthly bill....

Well--the big change to digital. We got the boxes, hooked up all our equipment, plugged everything in, and low and behold, it all works pretty well. Once in a while there is a problem with CBS, where it completely dissolves into little squares, but most of the time, there are alternatives, and this hasn't been a problem. But--tonight, there was only one program that interested me on PBS. And it broke up into those little unwatchable bits. I come down to my trusty computer, to check out a few things, like the schedule for the Metropolitan Opera, since I see they are doing Tosca for opening night tomorrow. Of course, I punch up Facebook, just to be nosey, and what do I find? Everyone is on Facebook, commenting away. Must be there is NOTHING on tv--even for the people with the fancy cable set-ups, and the tivo thingys. Ha! So "Hi" everyone! Better to talk with real people--even if it is in short sentences. Love Ya'

How Did This Happen?

My family enjoyed eating as much as any family does--all the big holiday gatherings, with big tables of food. But, half my family was German, and the other half Swedish. Not an Italian in the bunch. Hence, the food was plentiful, but not the divine experience that Mediterraneans seem to describe when recalling banquets of holidays past. My Swedish grandmother was an excellent cook, but hampered by tradition--her chicken fricassee was wonderful, and she did very fine creamed everything, but there was never a hint of garlic, or heaven forbid, red pepper flakes.

MyTreasure came from a fine upstate Yankee tradition, and every year they had a large garden, which gave them access to the freshest of ingredients--the likes of which I had never experienced in my upbringing on suburban Long Island. I admit to being appalled at what they left lying in the dirt in their garden--"Oh-that's gone past--pick this one." What luxury, all that fresh produce. Only thing was, they weren't too experimental with their recipes. "Mother's recipe" was the best, even though it was lacking in interesting ( or pretty much any) spices.

So what happened? I married in 1966, and stayed home with my children. Sesame Street came onto TV when my first baby was a year old. Perfect timing. I watched (or at least had on the telly) twice a day for 14 years, I figure, since we had five kiddies. That was pretty much the only TV that they were allowed to watch when they were little. But--at noon, and then at twelve thirty, came Julia Child, and Graham Kerr, the Galloping Gourmet. That was my time. I watched. I learned. I cooked. I fed my family--day in and day out, for a lot of years. I got pretty good at it. I guess over all this time, there hasn't been much I haven't tried in the kitchen. And we learned, MyTreasure and I, to enjoy fine food.

Monday this week, we took a trip up to the Hudson Valley, to visit that Mecca of Phudophiles, the CIA. (For you non-foodies, the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park.) We had been given gift certificates for two Christmases in a row by our son, and it was time to use them. Timing is everything, and for the CIA it has to be just right. So, we went, we took the tour, we spent time in the gift shop, we luxuriated in the whole experience, and it was wonderful. It was fabulous. It was everything we were expecting. How did we get this way? Are we enjoying our retirement way too much? I wish my life for you all...

Word Gets Around...

My friends and I all had children around the same time, and the "kids" have all passed into their thirties, some well into their thirties. They are finally starting to count up and realize that time is passing, and that they should be getting on with their lives, so in the last year we went to four family weddings, and this year there have been a bunch more, with at least two more scheduled for the spring.

I put together the bridal veil for my son's beautiful fiancee, and now I seem to be the go-to person for veils. Last weekend we went to a wedding, and the bride was bedecked with one of my creations. She liked it so well that she left it on all day, even at the after party when she had changed into comfy clothes. I'm glad she was happy with it. Best wishes to the happy couple!

"What's For Dinner?"

As chief cook it is my duty to come up with dinner. Since this has gone on night after night for many, many years, there are spells when I simply do not want to face that question. Having five children who each at one point would come into the kitchen at the moment things were going onto the stove and ask that question "WFD?", I grew weary of answering, especially when receiving negative responses to my selections, and finally posted a blackboard with the menu written on it. They never answered back to the blackboard--just read it and went on their way. Now they are all grown and gone, and the only one who has to ask AND answer the question is me. Sometimes I procrastinate, and other times I get out there and cook up a storm.

Today was a p-day. I had gotten a wonderful new grill earlier in July, but have only lit it up twice. I haven't had a decent hamburger all summer, mostly for lack of having any rolls in the house. The ones from the store seem to self-destruct in the freezer--and what are two people going to do with eight hamburger rolls, anyway? I just don't buy them anymore. So-what to do. Go to the store and buy the buns, just so I can make a hamburger? No--try the internet. What did we ever do before that? Look--recipes for hamburger buns! Yay! One makes a dozen, but another uses whole wheat flour, plus an egg--maybe they will freeze well.

So, back to the kitchen. I get out my trusty Kitchen Aid, knead up some dough, and voila! Buns! They look a little tall, so maybe will squish them down more the next time (if we like them) or cut the recipe in half, and divide the dough into six (the original recipe makes eight). Looks like there will be dinner after all! Now, about those burgers--it's already 5:30, and the beef is still frozen downstairs in the freezer. We have been moving our dinner hour later and later these days, and I confess I like it better that way (or at least that's the excuse...)

Ever Heard of Grape Pie?

A couple of years ago in the fall, we decided to take a look at the wineries in the Finger Lakes. We had vacationed there many years ago, before the real interest in New York State wines had started up, and back when the vintners were still making sweet wines out of native variety grapes. Being the winos--oh, oh, I mean wine lovers that we are, we decided we would like to see how things there had progressed. Garden Fairy and hubby were going to meet us there--it was going to be a fun trip. We had visited in Rochester, and made our way back across by way of the scenic route, and found a few interesting things along the way.

One curiosity was grape pie. We came through a little town called Naples, and all of a sudden there were hand lettered signs along the sides of the road advertising "Mom's Grape Pies" and "Molly's Best Grape Pies". Now pies are made out of everything from strawberries and yams, to green tomatoes, with every other kind of fruit ( and veggies) in between. Never heard of "grape pie" before. There was a little sandwich place that we came to, with the obligatory "Grape Pie Here" sign out front, and since it was lunch time we decided to give it a whirl. Had the grape pie. Very nice. Very purple...

It turns out that Naples is the grape pie capitol of the world--we haven't come across it any place else. I couldn't resist buying a box of grapes and taking them home. I made jam, and put up filling for one pie into the freezer. It's been in there all this time, waiting on just the right opportunity for consumption--of course to be shared at GF's house. I baked it up, and it came out a little soupy--guess grapes are all juice, so maybe a little more thickener if I ever try it again. The flavor is very intense--like very strong blueberry, but of course, it's grape. I confess, I'll always remember little Naples...

The Grandchildren...

We enjoy having the grandchildren over to visit, or stay, however we can fit things into our calendars. This weekend we were scheduled for an overnight with the "granddog". Yes, grandchildren come in different forms...

This one is particularly cute, and definitely of a manageable size--a Yorkie, Morgan by name--apparently after the rum, not the poetic German morning of lieder that I would have hoped for, but, not my pet/child, so what can I say?

I had heard that she watches tv. Not so usual for a dog. More usual for the regulation style grandchild, but hey!, I am willing to go along. This afternoon I had on PBS Create, and she was perfectly happy to watch the quilting shows, and the Nancy Ziemann sewing show--even let me nap through Martha Pullen.

Saturday night tv is a bit more challenging, even for persons, and we had heard that Morgan doesn't like sports programs. Well, I don't either, but what is this about? There were two stations with football games, and we put them on just to see what she would do. Good grief! The crazy little thing jumped at the screen, and if we changed the channel, she would go behind the tv to see if they were still back there! We put Nancy Ziemann back on (who knew she was on so many hours a day), and she sat down to watch. A dog who enjoys wearable art. Guess she has to grow up to do something in life....A girl after my own heart!

Unusual Busy Weekend

Used to be the weeks were crazy and the weekends were the down time. Things here have reversed, and now the weekends go non-stop, and the weekdays have become "prep time" for the weekends. I confess I am grateful for my "busy" life. How sad it would be if there was nothing to do but wish our children would call or come over. Things are so ridiculous here that we have to schedule get-togethers, and often find ourselves having to reschedule because there is so much going on.

Last weekend was a case in point. I had a full weekend planned with my doll club (Long Island Cloth Dollinks)--a day of workshops on Saturday, set-up for that event on Friday, dinner that night at someone's house for the Friday workers, then playing for church services in Queens on Sunday morning. Could I squeeze any more in?

We got a call that MyTreasure's aunt had died in California. Well, no hope for me going at all, so MT got himself onto that wonderful, useful internet, found tickets and a car to rent, and he flew off to his family on Thursday. I took myself to Manhattan for a girl's night out with my daughters, and we had a lovely dinner. Ran through all the rest of the weekend, barely being alone in the house except to sleep. Monday morning I got up and waited for the phone to ring, so that I could pick up MT from the train.

We sat at our breakfast table for two or three hours, since we both had so much to catch up on, and there was plenty to tell on both sides. What a pleasure to share life with someone you love. Forty-three years and counting!

Ticking Time

Where the time goes--when I wish it wouldn't. I start projects, and it seems like each thing I do is re-inventing the wheel. MyTreasure always hates to start something on our old house, because whenever he takes out a screw or removes and old board, it opens onto an entire new vista of work to be done. I made another little Pinocchio doll to put into the exhibit for Saturday, (see "When In Rome") since the first one went up to the Ward Melville exhibit until the end of August. No problem--I'll just make another one.

Well, I started quite a while before we went away, and picked it up again after we returned, and was very unhappy that it took two full days to complete--even after the head start. Maybe part of it was that the heat wave had hit, and it was pushing 90* in the sewing room. I deal with this by lightly soaking a t-shirt and putting it on. What the heck--nobody is coming in there to make it a contest, and it is very effective in combating the temps. The only thing is that after a few hours I begin to feel soggy.

So, even though I have already made this doll, there are problems. The first is that I redesigned the head, since it was supposed to be made out of clay. I used cloth on the first one, and it came out cute. But, I didn't make a pattern. So--make a pattern. Three heads later, I go back to the first attempt. And then, the embellishment is never the same. You get ideas, you try them out, they get complicated. Time is ticking...Big Trouble said "Where does time go when it is past?" Too much hard thinking! Here is Little Man #2--I'm happy with him, and he will look well next to Little Man #1--sitting there on that shelf along with the other time consuming artifacts that my brain seems to see the necessity of turning out...I confess I don't know why...

Coming Back

I confess that after a vacation I have trouble "restarting." I like vacation--I want to be on vacation all the time. Just get up when you want, find a little food, read some in the book, loaf around all day. Not that our vacations are like that, but after I get back home, that is what I want to do. We just came home after an abbreviated week on Cape Cod. It is so lovely there, and it doesn't change that much from year to year.

We came home late Thursday night, and hit the weekend full tilt, with house guests, a bridal shower on Saturday, and playing church on Sunday morning. Now it is Monday, and I just want to take the day off. Maybe it has nothing to do with the vacation thing--just a very busy weekend.

But, there are things to be done to get ready for next weekend. My life seems to have turned around--weekends are the busy time and weekdays are the down time. I guess that works--there are more weekdays, than days in the weekends... Maybe I will take that day off!

Trying Not To Call This "Total Ripoff...."

Today I went to my son's lovely fiancee's first bridal gown fitting. What a pretty shop--gorgeous dresses all beautifully hung, in a perfectly decorated salon setting. The only thing that disturbed was that there were probably only three or four dresses in the whole place that were NOT strapless. Doesn't anyone know how uncomfortable strapless dresses are? And of all days that you should be comfortable--your wedding day....I guess my situation was a little unique. Having been an opera singer, and endured the vagaries of any number of costume departments, I have first hand knowledge of what it is like to wear these crazy dresses. Given the option, I would definitely pick comfort over style, especially on my wedding day. Anyhow, the dresses were just fabulous--one prettier than the next, and certainly something there that any bride could fall in love with.

My bride looked perfect in her selection--a very elegant dress, without any of the distracting ornamentation that so many brides succumb to. Beautifully cut silk taffeta that matches her very down-to-earth personality, and she looked absolutely regal in it.

S0--enter the "veil lady". "Let's try this--let's try that..." It didn't get too crazy, because it wasn't that kind of dress. The bride narrowed it down to something she really seemed to enjoy, and then asked the price. Oh my. Being a good mother in law I am saying nothing--maybe just a tiny eye roll...Something must have given me away, because the bride turned to me and said "Probably you could do this with a glue gun." I did manage a quiet "Oh yeah!" under my breath. I mean--$850 for a few yards of tulle and some Swarovski crystals. The bride told the veil lady that she would think about it, and we were on our way to lunch.

The bride gave me the nod, and on the way home I picked up 4 yards of tulle, for $7 and change, and a comb. I will hit the craft store for the crystals, and we're good to go. Bet it will come in under $20. I love this stuff! I am so pleased that she would trust me with this. The bride said I should go into business--but that wouldn't be any fun. You only do this for people you love, because it is still work. But, I confess, I just love beating the system...

Eating Out

We have had such a strange summer this year that our little back deck hasn't gotten much use. April wasn't bad, but it rained consistently through May and June, and then the beginning of July warmed up, but the rains continued right on through the first two weeks of the month. We made our annual trek upstate for the fourth, but Lord knows, I had my little zipper hoodie on every day. (I would have made a selection other than white if I had known it was going to be a daily accessory.)

Finally we are in some pretty days, and looking to have supper on the deck under our honey locust trees. Those trees give lovely shade to the deck, but they certainly have their share of drawbacks. In the middle of June they are infested with aphids that drop down on you if you are out there sitting or weeding, and the rest of the time they drop these tiny leaves that shrivel up into loose clumps that do not biodegrade. You could use them for mulch...But I digress.

So--dinner on the deck. Ah, but look! MyTreasure has built a scaffold so that he can finish the shingles on the back of the house. There are tools on the table, and a step ladder, and boxes of shingles. This has been going on for many years. MT decided when he retired he would reshingle the house himself. The house is HUGE. After several years of planning and measuring, and stain-testing, he started on the front. Each year he moved to another side. Some years he didn't finish a side, and continued the following year. Last year he made it around to the back side, but didn't finish. This summer he has made it around to the back deck. There were a couple of complications--the little old light fixture was about as rusted as it could get, but still clinging to the wall next to the back door. Wiring and repositioning were required, and a new fixture was obtained. That done, the shingling continued. The supply was dwindling, however. Would it come out right, without having to purchase another box?

Yesterday was a celebration of sorts. The shingling was finally finished. There were only six nails left, and all the shingles were used up. MT was so happy! I confess it was a joy to see his sense of accomplishment. What an undertaking. We had our dinner out on the deck--a lovely evening. Today is foggy, muggy, gloomy, with thunderstorms on the way. It's okay--our shingles will keep us dry. Great job, MT!

Art With Attitude

I took myself (by myself) into the city a couple of weeks to drop in on some of my favorite places that I cannot take MyTreasure to--the Design Shop at MOMA, the Paula Nadelstern Quilt Exhibit at the Folk Art Museum, and the Shop at the MAD at Union Square. I need to check in to these places once in a while, just to see what is going on in the heads of the fine designers who "exhibit" there, and I find that by doing so, I am renewed. I am not an artist, but there must be some part of me that finds the need to create, and I find it very satisfying to glimpse into the minds of other creative people who work in tangible materials. A musician works always in the abstract, but I find I need the physical part of art too--fabric, metal, color, paper.

What a joy to be able to purchase some of these things and take them home to my house to enjoy. A set of vases caught my eye--all lined up on a high shelf--all little pieces of sculpture, very individual, even though the shapes were similar. I had a hard time picking just one, since they were all colors and patterns of my favorite things--dresses. So I narrowed it down and picked one, brought it home, and it has been sitting on my kitchen counter, until I went out to my garden, and fulfilled it's function. I confess, it makes me laugh, and I think I made a great choice.

Meanwhile, Back At The Birdfeeder...

We went on our yearly loop upstate to hook up with relatives who gather at the old family homestead for the 4th of July. The town has a great little parade and fireworks exhibit (on years when it doesn't rain), and there is a bbq at a big old house near enough to walk down to all the town's festivities. This year it didn't rain, but it wasn't warm. It is interesting to catch up with folks you only see once a year--there is always something to talk about.

So, we got back last night--and thank heavens for that. This morning the news is full of the traffic mess at the Throg's Neck Bridge, which is still closed in BOTH directions due to a fire under the roadway. I have never been so unfortunate to be sitting for hours behind a big road disaster, and I hope I never have to.

I'm looking out my kitchen window and enjoying the last of the bird feeders, which happens to be a goldfinch thistle seed feeder. We stop filling the bird feeders for the summer as we run out of seed, and then start again in the fall. The thistle seeds last the longest, and we have half a bag left, so the birds are still out there checking it out. We have enjoyed watching the goldfinches turn from olive to bright yellow for the summer. They have to tip upside down to get the seeds, and the feeder is designed especially for them. Since it is the only feeder out there, the other birds have been eyeing the finches, and the chickadees have figured out how to eat from this odd arrangement. There has been one persistent sparrow, and low and behold, this morning he was tipping himself upside down to get at those thistle seeds. He isn't too good at it yet, but I bet he'll succeed, since thistle seeds seem to be particularly tasty.

Underneath this feeder is a pot with two cherry tomato plants. The cardinal was in it picking out the seeds that have fallen down into the pot. Everybody has their way of coping, each in his unique manner, some by adapting and trying something new, and some by staying with the tried and true. I confess to finding pleasure in observing the process--and not just in birds!

When In Rome.....

MyTreasure and I took a three city intro-level tour to Italy a couple of years ago, and had a wonderful time. Italy is wonderful, and even though I haven't seen most of the rest of the world, I hope to get back there again. We did make one big mistake though, which would be easily remedied the next time we go. I love to shop, and MT HATES to shop. I learned early in our marriage that if I wanted to buy something, MT was an enormous hindrance. Whenever I am in the store, I hear conversations going on around me: wife "Oh, this is nice!" husband "What do you need that for?" Oy! Leave him home, for heavens sake!

When MT and I are traveling together, we make time apart so that I shop a little, and he goes and looks at whatever amuses him. I love to see what they are selling in different places--even the grocery stores. Most of the time I pick up something small, just to remember the trip--I'm not big on buying a lot of stuff that will just sit around the house, along with the stuff that is already sitting around the house. I keep my eyes open and try to pick something that I will be able to use, or enjoy over the long haul.

I didn't find anything that I wanted in Venice, but there were vendors selling beautiful burnout velvet scarves in Florence, and in Pisa there were all sorts of Pinocchio ornaments and toys. MT said "Don't buy it now--you'll only have to carry it." Well, the carry part is true--luggage is heavy enough without the extra purchases, so I waited until Rome.

Italy is not like the US. Things are very regional, even though the country is a lot smaller than here. S0--what you see in one city, you will not see anywhere else. We got to Rome, and the souvenirs were nothing like what we had seen along the way. I ended up empty handed. That's okay--nothing was there that I really needed. I came home with some tubes of tomato paste, and a jar of truffles. But, I did pass this tidbit on to our neighbors before they went on their trip, and they thanked me when they got back.

I came across a doll pattern for a little Pinocchio, and I finally got around to making him up. I think he came out well, and here he is--not as traditional as the ones in Pisa, but nice enough for our next doll exhibit next month.

Sunny Day Blues

Yesterday I was out on the sidewalk walking along, and oddly, the sun was shining. Flowers were blooming, the temperature was just right and I felt like I had been let out of jail. We have had such a stretch of rainy days, alternating with days that have no rain, but look like it it will any minute. The temperatures have been moderate, but not all lovely and warm like June is supposed to be. Who would have wanted to have a wedding in this June? (When I was playing weddings at our church, back when people actually got married, the most popular month had switched from June to October.)

I was surprised to find that my disposition was so affected by the sun--and how glad everyone was to have it back. Of course, it seems to have lasted for one day in a row--again. Thunder storms are predicted for this afternoon. As I write, it is growing darker and darker. Back to square one!

Aftermath

Our choir director's wife is having their first baby, so it was only appropriate that all the choir mothers should get together and have a baby shower for this new mother. The director thought it should be a surprise, and so a fake string orchestra rehearsal was arranged at our house, and they arrived at our door, cello and viola in hand. Well, the mom was surprised, and took it very well. We all had food and great games (thank you Garden Fairy!) and I think we all had a great time. Sometimes you just have to celebrate, and what better occasion than a new baby, being born to a great couple.

My daughter (Mother Necessity) came to offer spare hands for the kitchen, and my granddaughter wanted to come as well--she is eight, and this was her first baby shower. MN baked the beautiful cupcakes in the picture, and handled the food details that often bedevil a hostess--get it out hot, and get it all put away at the end.

Several guests lingered, much to our pleasure, as we could have good conversation after most of the food was over, and the other guests had taken their leave. I think it was a pleasant afternoon for everyone--all in all a successful party. Thanks so much to MN and GF. Yu'all come back another day!

The Fam

Memorial Day came and so did the fam. But, we decided to forego the traditional backyard bbq and have brunch at a nearby restaurant. My Mom and Dad came in from Florida, and since it was within a few days of their 65th wedding anniversary, we decided to celebrate more formally. 65 years is definitely a day to be marked, especially in these times of easy in, easy out. Look at us, all dressed up. Good lookin' bunch, don't you think? Congratulations, Mom and Dad!

Life's Economics

Oprah just had a program about people struggling through this time of belt tightening. Oprah, of all people--a tiny bit hard to relate to her circumstance when she has risen so high and had such great success--by her own merits. I'm afraid the only belt tightening going on there has to do with her creeping waistline. But, she is trying to tell the stories of families who are going through tough times. However, the interviewees today didn't ring any bells with me.

The one lady had been living well, but had lost her job, and really still wasn't doing too badly, considering her husband is still working. But when asked what she missed about having only half their income, hair highlights and manicures were pretty high up on the list. And she now has to shop in the dollar store.

Good grief! I had my hair frosted once and since a lot of it seemed to fall out afterwards, I didn't do it again. And dare I admit that I have never had a manicure? Or a massage, gym membership, cell phone contract, or charge account balance? For years I cut my own and my children's hair, made my own clothes (I have a designer one-of-a-kind wardrobe), and hung my own wallpaper. My mantra was that any dollars I could save doing something myself were dollars that did not have to be earned (and taxed).

Somewhere people got the idea that living well means not doing for yourself, and that hiring everything is the way to go. Well, I wonder when they will realize that their incomes are no where near the range of the very wealthy (or the plumber working under their sink), and that they are bankrupting themselves and their families through this faulty thought pattern. Wealth will always be a pyramid, and the largest number of us will always be at the lower end of that triangle. Quality of life has much more to do with richness of the mind than richness of the pocketbook. There is enormous satisfaction in being self sufficient, and it also allows for greater independence. I bet I could count on one hand the times that I have had to sit and wait for a repairman or a workman who may or may not show up--just not my problem.

As to the dollar store--they sell bottles of nail polish and emery boards for a buck. And I am proud to say that at the age of 60+ I can still paint my own toenails!

Work Clothes

When I was singing in a local opera company, I used to do my make-up and hair before leaving the house, and then drive to wherever the performance was. It was a little odd, since the opera chorus has only three characters types: villagers, peasants, or courtesans. The courtesan parts were the best, since the costumes were always extravagant ball gowns, and I had quite a collection of rhinestone finery and fans to accessorize. You know how it is when you see Santa driving his car. I confess, I loved dressing for work.

MyTreasure has always had a tuxedo to wear whenever he does an orchestra concert. Very early in our marriage I went to a rummage sale at a local church in a high end neighborhood, and came across a rack of clothes that had a very lovely tuxedo with silk lining and lapels that looked like it had been worn once--probably to the previous owner's wedding. I held it up for size, and a lady came over and asked me if I was interested. I tried on the jacket and she gave me a price of $5. I said that I didn't know if it would fit, and she dropped the price to $3. So, it went home with me. It really was beautifully made, except that the pants had buttons on the fly, instead of a zipper. MT tried the thing on, and lo and behold--a perfect fit! It looked like it was made for him. Sleeves and pants lengths were exactly right. He wore his $3 tux to all his concerts--I bet close to 30 years. He hated that button fly. Then he outgrew the button fly. It was time for a replacement.

As we approached the year 2000, retail decided that a lot of men would be purchasing tuxedos to party in. Yeah, right! Didn't your man rush right out and snatch one up? Isn't that part of everyman's wardrobe? Don't they all want one? MT took advantage of the postmillennium sales and got himself a new tux. We went on a cruise with family right after, the tux went along and was paraded out for "formal night". I thought my aunt's eyes would fall out. "You have your own tux?!!!" She can't get my uncle out of his velcro sneakers and baseball hat. Oh well....

So, yesterday MT has a concert. He's headed out the door looking beautiful, off to work. Quite the guy! Eat your heart out ladies!

Jet Lag

How is it possible to get jet lagged when you don't change time zones? Maybe there is more to it than just time change. More like culture/climate warp. I spent a couple of days in Florida, where the sun shines and the breeze is temperate, and the palm trees are swaying. In a short three hours I find myself back where the clouds cover the blue and the traffic rolls, and if the breeze blows there are usually falling tree limbs involved. It amazes me that in less than half a day you can be someplace so totally different and it makes my head spin. That's my jet lag.

I always bring something to keep me occupied during the waiting. There is always lots of waiting, and I think to myself that I will accomplish something while I am doing the waiting. I guess that comes from the feeling that if I had a couple of extra hours I would finish xxxx. I have been on two plane trips this last month and have carried a rather bulky collection of yarn for a scarf that I am knitting, and I haven't gotten it out of the tote bag yet. But I did get through a fat Michael Crichton and a whole bunch of Everyday Food Magazines that I wanted to dispose of.

I sat in the row with two very nice women who were curious to know if I would actually use the recipes I was tearing out of the magazines. That's my system--go through the magazine and tear out the pages that look interesting, and throw the rest away. The pages, (hopefully with pictures) go into a pile on my kitchen counter, and when I want an idea for dinner, I look through my stack, and see what would work with what I have on hand. The ones we like get written on a card and filed in my recipe box, and the pages then go to the garbage. Well, those ladies didn't look convinced when I said "Oh yes--I will cook this stuff!" Ha! What do they know? Last night I pulled out a page from the plane for crustless quiche with broccoli, mushrooms, and red potatoes, chopped up the scallions that needed to get out of the vegetable drawer and got a very sweet note from MyTreasure about how nice his dinner was. See--he missed me. I'm back!

Easter Whirlwind

The biblical whirlwind took place around Elijah, and had nothing to do with Easter. But it passed through our house last week in the form of family and friends at our Easter celebration. We always invite everyone, and usually some can come, and some can't make it. About a week before Easter, I started to total up the numbers and realized that just about everyone was coming. We topped out at 27 total for dinner. We have had larger parties, but in the summer, out in the yard. April means inside for all but the egg hunt.

When we moved into "This Old House" we had an Ethan Allen oval maple table with two leaves. It was normal sized, and looked ridiculous in the middle of our big new dining room. I started making the rounds of the second hand/antique furniture stores looking for a big table. There used to be about one in every block, and they are all gone now. I consider it a great form of recycling, and a lot of our furniture has been acquired that way. You can get a unique older piece of furniture, made out of actual wood, at a good price. I turned up a wonderful table at a store right nearby, and the salesman/owner was skeptical about anyone ever needing a table so large, so he offered it to me at a very fair price. It is 4'x6' closed, with 5 leaves. It went into our dining room and looked perfect. My only complaint is that it is a little wide for playing cards. (Maybe that's why people have card tables...) And, I sold the maple table for almost as much as the big one cost! Yay for "recycling"!

A while back we had 17 for Thanksgiving, and we decided that seemed to be the maximum number for seating comfortably. Where were the other 10 people going to go? We opted for buffet service off the kitchen island, sat the kiddies in the breakfast room, and set up three card tables in the front room. It all went well, but the prep went on for days, although the clean-up was only one extra day. I was tired! I think all the conversation and bustle wears me out. I've gotten pretty good at what can be done ahead, so that I actually get to enjoy the party. How nice that everyone came. I hope it was fun! See ya' all Memorial Day!

A Lutheran Prelude to Easter

We just got home from our Good Friday Tenebrae service. It is always a weird experience for me because it is a worship/work affair. Our organist has made it a little toooo dramatic for me--aided and abetted by our last pastor (who shall remain anonymous, but whose initials are D O'R--otherwise known as the Professor's Mom's husband) and he does this thing throughout the service with the pedal of the organ that simulates a heartbeat. Of course, at the appropriate moment in the service, the heartbeat stops. Let me tell you--Major Headache! I suppose it is compounded by the big finish to the whole thing, which is me singing "Were You There" in the dark. I used to get nervous, due to having to wait until the very end before singing, and have taken to retreating to the downstairs hallway until the end, when I head to the balcony to do my thing.

So, this year it was a tiny bit different. There were no ushers, so I was standing by the door avoiding being in the balcony for the heartbeat thing, and I handed out bulletins to worshippers as they came in. Inadvertently, I gave up my bulletin (we ran out) and couldn't follow the service from the more distant office, the way I usually do. I wandered into the narthex and looked on with the people who were turning down the lights, since this a service which gradually removes the light source until we finish in the dark. I ended up singing the hymns there in the narthex, which worked out great, since I was nicely warmed up when I had to go up to the balcony to sing. I think that there is some benefit to getting old. I am losing my nerve. Or to rephrase--nerves. Singing and playing used to be so difficult--there were times when my hands and knees were shaking so badly that I didn't know if I could even play/sing. There was even a time when I had panic attacks--I guess they call it performance anxiety. Now, either I have developed an ego, or something else (advanced age?) has taken over.

I have to say that I got a little boost a couple of weeks ago when MyTreasure was pruning his music collection. There were a bunch of cassette tapes which no longer serve any purpose, and it was time for them to go. The CD's have taken over. So, he was playing tapes, just to see if there was anything on them worth saving, and he came across some of our kids when they were babies, and we used to make them talk into the tape recorder. But there were also some recordings of me doing various concerts or church services. Not bad! I confess I sounded pretty decent. Guess I should sing a little more often, and not be so timid about asking to do so. I've lost some flexibility (don't we all as we get older? And the voice is a muscle, after all...) but I think I can still pull off a decent solo. So, I did my verses of "WYT", and didn't end up shaking by the end. Wow! What a luxury, to be able to just sing without agita. Yay! I just hope I'm not one of those old gals that you wish would stay quietly seated. But--do I care anymore?

What Sticks In Your Head

Yesterday at the weekly Weight Watcher's meeting someone mentioned a recipe for "Killed Five Times Green Beans". What an intriguing name for a veggie dish. She proceeded to describe the dish, and stupidly, I didn't go up to her and get a more specific recipe. I have a bag of green beans in my refrigerator, and this recipe is calling to me. I checked the internet, and there are recipes there for Green Beans Cooked Long and Slow. There seem to be two traditions from which this process emerges--the South, and Jewish cooking. How interesting! Lots of mentions of beans "the way my Grandma made them," some with tomatoes, some with bacon and onion, some with smoked turkey wings or ham hocks. Cooking times vary from 1 hour to 10 hours.

Well, it's killing me that I am going to have to wait a whole week until I can catch up with the lady in WW. She described caramelized onions (which take forever to make all by themselves) added to the beans and then cooked all day. Got the beans, got the onions--don't got the recipe. Guess I'll try the one with the tomatoes this week, and hit the store for another bag of beans next week. I confess I do like my cooking!

Newlywed Game San Diego Style

MyTreasure and I flew out to San Diego to see how the happy couple are arranging their lives on the faraway coast of Californ-i-ay. Hard to believe that it has already been seven months since the wedding. The groom was enthusiastic about moving west, but the bride had been reluctant to leave her family. I confess I wasn't happy about them going so far, but isn't that always the way? The husband wants to retire and move away, but the wife wants to stay close to family. The bride told the groom that they would do a two year trial out there, and if either was unhappy, they would move back east.

I am happy to report that the bride is now talking about where they would like to buy a house, and everywhere we went, the two of them were scouting out neighborhoods for an eventual relocation. I'm glad that they like it so much. It is so very pretty there, and I don't know if it is seasonal--seems like one time we were in CA, in August, everything was brown--all the hills were brown, and the ground was brown. At that time I was greatly unimpressed. Right now, in March (spring?) everything was green, and the ground cover was blooming in vivid flowers, none of which grow on LI. The sky was very blue, and the sun shines almost all the time. I would have been happier with warmer temperatures--we wore our jackets most days, but maybe it warms up in the summer.

We stayed five nights, and each day they took us to a different place where the scenery was spectacular. I can see how you would enjoy being surrounded by beauty everyday. Around every corner there are vistas of hills running down to the Pacific, threaded by roads that twist and turn. We ate in a different restaurant almost every night--they are worse foodies than we are! (I only gained two pounds...) They have a good sized balcony/patio with a grill, and we had wonderful pork chops one night.

Their apartment is very spacious, and set into the building so that you do not see the adjacent apartments, even from the patio. There is a two car garage with an automatic door and a stairway right up into the apartment. They have two bedrooms and two baths--all very comfortable. The jobs are working out, and they seem to have mastered the six-lane traffic system, since they both spend a fair amount of time on the roads getting back and forth to work. The plane ride is a bit long, but what a lovely place to visit!

Paper Chase

I always wanted to work with paper. I love some of the things I see in books, especially altered art, which I have yet to attempt. A long time ago I started acquiring pretty papers, rubber stamps (I have quite a few boxes of those now, mounted and unmounted), stamp pads with different colors of ink, and books on card making. A couple of times I sat down and made some cards (found those in a box the other day) but the norm is that when I need a card for an occasion, I do not have time to sit down and make a card. I have done some wrapping papers too, but again--usually wrapping is the last thing I do with a gift on my way out the door to the party, and grabbing for the roll of paper in the closet is the best I can do.

Okay. So, I have decided to give a shower for someone special who is having their first baby. I am ahead of time, since the date is more than two months away. I can make invitations. I head out to my favorite place--The Materials Resource Center. I think of it as Crafts Without Guilt. They collect unwanted leftover items from stores going out of business, or leftover inventory, or manufacturing byproducts, and sell them off by weight. I have gone out of that store with an armload of good stuff for almost no cost, and it is all "recycled". You never know what is going to be there, and it usually takes more than one pass through, because I can't always put it together in my head until I get home and think about it for a while--"Oooo! That would be great for...."

I picked out paper for invitations, and some for the envelopes. They had premade scrapbook stick-ons--cute little baby carriages in pink and blue. Then I remembered the box of sealing wax "coins" over in the corner. They also had these funky wide sticky tapes with things printed on them--one being the specifics for a baby shower. I bought enough for 30 cards.

Well,I confess it took me at least two afternoons to design and cut the envelopes, one more to letter and assemble the cards, and then another to fill in and seal the cards into the envelopes. One trip and four dollars to the dollar store would have accomplished the same thing. Oh well--look how cute they are!

Irish For A Day

I confess I have always had trouble "getting into" St. Patrick's Day. Being neither Irish nor Catholic, I have never felt the need to celebrate the day, and most years I forget to wear green, even to Garden Fairy's St. Patrick's party. I'm not crazy for the music--the driving rhythms and tempos of the jigs and reels do not vary much, and the harmonies are pretty basic I, IV, V, I stuff. Once in a while something slow has a lovely melody that catches my ear. I do like bag pipes however.

The food leaves me uninspired as well. I made the mistake of buying two cabbages, because in honor of the week, cabbage was only nine cents a pound, only to open my vegetable drawer and discover one was already lurking in there. I started cooking cabbage dishes, and ran out of steam after using the largest cabbage, leaving me two heads ahead. Garden Fairy was happy to take one off my hands. We still have a whole cabbage left, and untouched casserole of stuffed cabbage rolls to get through. Luckily, cabbage is a friend of the Weight Watcher.

GF and I headed off to the Fairway this morning to treat ourselves to some gourmet goodies. She needed bangers for her upcoming party, and that's the only place we know that sells them. I love to go up and down the aisles and buy special treats that can't be found in your regular supermarket. I picked up a tray of fresh pumpkin ravioli, which we will have with browned butter and fresh sage sauce, and the wedge of Parmesan Reggiano from the cheese counter. The smell in the coffee aisle is to die for--MyTreasure benefited from a bag of whole bean decaf.

GF and I hit the prepared food section for some wrap sandwiches, and a cup of their special blend coffee. While we were eating, there were two Japanese chefs making sushi rolls behind us. Another woman working there came up to the counter, waved at the two chefs and said "Mazeltov! It's St. Patty's Day!" The chefs didn't seem to know what the heck she was talking about, but she had on a bright green apron and a big smile as she went on her way.

A friend who used to exercise with me moved away to New Jersey. She sent me a card covered with shamrocks, and wrote a little note saying how much she misses us all, and included a pin-on button that reads "Irish for a Day". Sweet woman--she is as Irish as I am. So there I was in the Fairway, with the Japanese chefs, and the "Mazeltov" lady, wearing my "Irish" pin on my blue sweater. I'll have to find something green for that party...

Latte, Latto, Latti, Lattied

Weight Watchers is a big proponent of skim milk. Ugh! I have struggled along with the concept of using it "in place of"--what a joke! It doesn't replace anything. You know things have really been bad when you get hold of a jug of 1%, pour it on your cereal and think you went on a vacation. And my goodness--at church coffee hour when actual whole milk descends out of the pitcher into that cup of coffee, you think heaven has rewarded you with heavy cream. Skim milk in coffee is particularly repugnant, so I gave the fat free half and half a shot. It's okay, but it has fake stuff in it to give it that nice consistency. I used regular half and half for a while, but that is not helping my efforts to lose pounds. So, since I spend inordinate amounts of time in my kitchen, I have started experimenting.

First I took a mug of skim milk, put it in a mug with a Chai tea bag, and stuck it into the microwave for 2 minutes. Wow--not bad! Chai Latte. The milk thickens up a bit and is spiced nicely from the tea bag. Of course, a cup of skim is 2 points on the WW scale. Hmmm. What else... For Christmas I received a Biali Mukka, which makes lovely cappuccino on top of the stove in 3 minutes. Very excellent. But, as my daughter-in-law pointed out, a pain in the neck to clean. Back to my French Press. I discover however, that the skim milk thickens up when it is microwaved--I guess that's the concept of the steamed milk part of the cappuccino maker.

Well, I have this little gizmo that I picked up in IKEA for $2 (I think it has gone up to $3 last I checked) which foams up the milk very nicely. What if I tried it in the microwaved milk? It only needs about 1/2 cup of milk, and the foamer fills up the whole mug with bubbles, and then you pour the coffee from the French Press right into it, and viola! Latte! So, now I'm down to only 1 WW point, and my 2 (if that) cups of coffee per day look pretty, and make me very happy. And I can pay myself however much Starbucks charges-- I don't know how much, because I confess every time I have walked up to their counter and give a look to the menu prices, I realize I am no longer thirsty.

Blitzed!

I lived through my college years way upstate, in one of those tiny towns where the State of New York saw fit to stick their colleges. I'm wondering if they sprinkled the schools around as an economic benefit to otherwise uninhabitable locales, or if the State Fathers thought that by isolating troublesome intellectual teenagers in culturally bereft environs, they could alleviate some of the turmoil that tends to occur when large numbers of like-minded people of a certain age gather and live together for prolonged periods of time. That was when I got tuned into winter. I never minded winter before that. My Dad always had us out every time it snowed, and whenever school was closed due to inclement weather, somehow we managed to forge our way through to the local golf course and sleigh ride on their hills. We also would hit the lake over at the state park on weekends when there was ice, and there was a small pond within walking distance of our house that I would carry my skates to after school. I was never any good, but I was out there...

Then came upstate. When the ice didn't even have so much as a crack by February, and then went on to linger into March, I was disturbed. Around the end of April, the permaslush that lived on the sidewalks finally gave way to amazing mud. Mud? Mud? Who has mud? MyTreasure says in his hometown, they had "Mud Week". School actually closed down for a week so that the unpaved back roads could dry out, and the school bus wouldn't bog down. Notice I say "bus", not "buses". Oy! So, I came to discover that they do not have spring in the north country. They go from winter to summer, and vice versa at the appropriate time of year. In the end of August there are already red and yellow leaves on the trees. There was a joke that went around that in New England there were only two seasons--winter and the 4th of July. If summer fell on a Sunday, they had a picnic.

So, in my longing for spring, I look back on my upstate time and think how fortunate that we didn't settle there. Surely, it is March, and the grass is showing, and I keep looking out the window to see if little sprouts are appearing from my daffodils. Alas, they are not there. They must know something that the robins do not (there have been flocks of them out in the yard, and along the parkways.) And then we get blitzed! March 2nd. Big snow--and the cold to go with it. Well, that's what I get for anticipating. March always gives one good slap, just to let us know who is in control. The sun is shining brightly today--I needed my sunglasses for all the bright. Cruel joke, since they still had Ft Myers sand on them. However, the melting has begun, and maybe this will be the end of winter, and those daffodils will spring up! I confess, I'm ready!

A Quiet Weekend With No Food

I am looking forward to a weekend with no entertaining for a change. Usually we have people in, or are going somewhere, and every time there are large quantities of food involved. I went back to Weight Watchers last spring, and did well until we hit August and went on summer vacation. I gained back about three pounds, and have been gaining/losing those same three pounds ever since. It goes like this: weigh in on Wednesday, lose a pound or so more before the weekend, gain two or three on the weekend, diet them off again before weigh-in on Wednesday. This weekend we have no plans, and I think I am just going to go with that, and maybe I will get a head start on next week's trial by scale. Right now I am on what the WW people call "maintenance", only I haven't gotten down to my "goal weight". I maintain very well, so after I get to that magic number I ought to do fine. I'm just not fading away the way the WW books claim you will if you follow their program. And, after months and months, I confess to being weary of the whole thing.

The best part of this process is that we three friends have been attending the sessions faithfully every week, and afterwards we hit the food court in the mall for a little chat session. Ut-ut! I know what you are thinking--we only have coffee and tea--we're very good. I have enjoyed the company and it gets us to the meetings, even when time was short through the holidays. I think back to when my grandmother had her weekly kaffee klatch, and all the ladies would come for catch up talk. Too bad my generation decided that it would be "liberating" to all get jobs and go to work everyday. Too bad my children's generation made this an economic necessity, and that we have all lost touch in ways it is not possible to describe to those who have not experienced a different way of living.

So, for entertainment this weekend, I'll put together some "healthy" dinners so that we have a few meals ahead and maybe get to the grocery store for vegetables to keep things going for the week. Maybe this Wednesday I will get a little star for the front of my gold book. The real target is to hit that goal weight so that I can stop paying for all this nonsense. And maybe I won't look lumpy on the next wedding video, the way I did in the last one...

Just Up The Street

When we moved into our white elephant house in the 1970's, it was on a somewhat shabby street in the center of a block of houses that had long ago passed out of style, back in the days when people tended to live within their means. Big old houses were oversized for modern families who only planned on having two children, and realized that high taxes and heating bills could break the budget if they overbought on their living space. We moved in and were the next to last of the large families to take up residence. We had five children, and the family across also had five. As of today, there are no children on the block, except for a pair of twins down the south end. People have put on big extensions, and a number of them have landscapers and sprinkler systems. The street is no longer shabby (except for maybe our house...) Funny how it goes.

Without planning any of it, we found ourselves close to town, the train station and the library, which is just six houses up the street--don't even have to cross. Our kids grew up three blocks walk to the high school, and had access to Manhattan, via the LIRR. Each one of them made use of the train, either for music school on Saturdays, orchestra rehearsals on Sundays, or as commuters to their first jobs in the city. I even rode the railroad for a while, when I was singing in the opera. The fact that we can walk to the train is wonderful, since it is almost impossible to find a place to park at the station, and we when we go to concerts, we don't have to worry about whether we will snag a spot. We also can travel into the airport by train when we go on a trip, and can save the cost of the long term parking lot. We are quite the sight pulling our wheelie suitcases down the sidewalks late at night after a trip home from somewhere.

For now, the library is a great joy. I can go on line, and request just about anything I want, and they deliver it up the street, call when it has arrived, and all I have to do is pop on my coat, and walk up to get it. Whoohoo! Free stuff practically to my door! As an added bonus, my doll club has voted to move their meetings back to the library. They had met there before I joined, but the library closed off the meeting room for renovations, and we have been gathering at a church on the other side of Long Island--a pleasant enough drive on a spring day, but about a half hour ride. We had our first meeting in the library on Saturday, and it was the due date for a music themed doll--something that said "Music" to it's designer. Music for me is opera, so here she is, right off the second act of Tosca, wearing her beaded train that dragged noisily across the floor of the stage every time she turned or took a step. I confess to cherishing my brief time at the opera. MyTreasure can't understand why I don't want to actually go to the opera, but the real pleasure of it was in the performance. How lucky I was to have had the opportunity, and that it was at the Met!

N is for Neville who died of ennui...

I confess that each year after the holidays I lose steam. Days just go by, and no work of any significance gets done. I cook, I do the laundry, but the time slips by until the spring when the days are once again long, and the air warms up so that I can take off my woolies. I can't seem to shake off the winter blahs. For now I am Neville.

Last summer when we went to Cape Cod, The Professor came across a listing in the tourist magazines for the house formerly occupied by Edward Gorey. I am not sure what fascinates me about this odd man, but for some reason I have always been attracted to his drawings, and his inexplicable little books. (You all have seen his work in the credit animations for the PBS Mystery Series.) I spent a good deal of time with an old pen and a bottle of India ink, so I appreciate the process. Gorey's texts and drawings are all enigmatic, leaving out vital parts of the plots, forcing one to draw one's own conclusions. His life was that way too, looking rather ordinary from the sidewalk, but very curious when you put it in the context of his work. Amazing that anyone could make a living from little pen and ink drawings.

So, see me loafing about, looking at picture books, and piecing together life's little mysteries, waiting for the sun to shine. I bought three bunches of tulips for my window sill just to hurry things along. I'm sure it will work...