I am a very generous person…except when it comes to chocolate. I become very greedy. In fact, around my home, I have designated locations where I hide chocolate. Sometimes the locations are so good, that I find myself ransacking my own house when suffering from a chocolate craving. When I have exhausted all of my favorite hiding spots (the “love box” over the mantle, the top shelf in the downstairs bathroom, the cabinet over the refrigerator, and the top drawer under the sheets in the guest room), I find myself creating an excuse to walk to Stewarts.
Right now, I am sort of in the mood for chocolate, but am trying to hold off (and it’s not easy!). I’ll be eating lots of birthday cake this week, so I am trying to save the sugar calories for that. But it’s hard, because there is a candy bar on the table next to me under some papers. I think it’s a Crunch Bar.
At this point in my life, I should consider myself lucky that chocolate is my only vice. I have never taken drugs or smoked cigarettes (except once with Stacie in 1991 in the parking lot of the Hyde Park movie theater when we were both balling after watching the movie, The Bridges of Madison County)……Not to mention that only one glass of wine causes a flush to my cheeks.
I just stopped writing to double check. Yep, it’s a Crunch Bar, a special kind with caramel.
Actually, I just remembered my other vice. Coffee. I love a good cup of coffee. And what a coincidence that my favorite coffee is flavored with chocolate. Lately, I have felt like a Folgers commercial, having re-discovered that I don’t need to pay $9.00 a pound for a good cup of coffee. I had balked at my mother recently when she brought Folgers into my home. Having run out of the freshly ground coffee in the fancy foiled bag, I had no other choice but to feed my addition. I was pleasantly surprised. The Folgers wasn’t half bad (plus it’s half the price).
I have fantasized about writing to Folgers and starring in one of those cheesy commercials with thirty-somethings sitting around a table eating cucumber sandwiches. The know-it-all mother notices the Folger’s canister on my counter, and snickers across the table to another coffee-snob accomplice. But after they taste the Folgers, they are won over and the camera pans into my “told you so” smile (bleached white teeth of course).
So here I am thinking about being on a Folgers TV commercial sounding pretty pathetic. At least I’m smart enough to know that it’s too late for coffee (10:30pm). But I can’t guarantee that I won’t lean over for that Crunch Bar. I wonder if it has almonds? What was that movie with the famous quote “Greed is Good”?
Post script: Even though I disclosed the secret locations on where I hide my chocolate, you are out of luck. I’m cunning. But if asked, I will most likely share.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
When Life Gives You Lemons......
All week long, I’ve been monitoring the progress of a new business in the village. The owners have impressed me with their marketing strategies and advertising techniques. And with literally no overhead and highly desirable product and location, I’m sure they will be highly profitable. Who are these entrepreneurial geniuses? A small group of 10-12 year olds selling lemonade and water. 
I first spotted them on Monday, about halfway down the hill. In the sweltering heat, I imagined them being there only for a few hours. But it’s Thursday, and they have put in endless hours on that corner. Their clientele seem to be the beachgoers who halfway down the hill, take a much needed break with a cold cup of lemonade (brilliant!). In addition, they have expanded their employee base, with more and more children participating in this venture. I believe they now have a total of 6 employees which leaves me wondering about their profit-sharing arrangements.
I kept on making mental notes to stop there on my daily walk, but with the heat, I have been driving everyplace. But, rest assured, these little moguls have thought this one through by launching a more aggressive campaign. With magic markers and cardboard, they have created new signs and have begun flagging down cars. A relentless guerilla marketing technique.
It worked, and I decided to pull over. A child gleefully approached as if he had made his first big sale of the day. I told him that I wanted one cup of lemonade, and he scurried back to the group to report my order. I watched as they all seriously gathered around the cooler to collectively prepare my cup of lemonade. For fifty cents, I was given a large blue cup of lemonade with just the right amount of ice.
They obviously have researched their “value proposition”, because the smile of gratitude I received from this eager businessman, hooked me into being a repeat customer. A great return on investment.
I first spotted them on Monday, about halfway down the hill. In the sweltering heat, I imagined them being there only for a few hours. But it’s Thursday, and they have put in endless hours on that corner. Their clientele seem to be the beachgoers who halfway down the hill, take a much needed break with a cold cup of lemonade (brilliant!). In addition, they have expanded their employee base, with more and more children participating in this venture. I believe they now have a total of 6 employees which leaves me wondering about their profit-sharing arrangements.
I kept on making mental notes to stop there on my daily walk, but with the heat, I have been driving everyplace. But, rest assured, these little moguls have thought this one through by launching a more aggressive campaign. With magic markers and cardboard, they have created new signs and have begun flagging down cars. A relentless guerilla marketing technique.
It worked, and I decided to pull over. A child gleefully approached as if he had made his first big sale of the day. I told him that I wanted one cup of lemonade, and he scurried back to the group to report my order. I watched as they all seriously gathered around the cooler to collectively prepare my cup of lemonade. For fifty cents, I was given a large blue cup of lemonade with just the right amount of ice.
They obviously have researched their “value proposition”, because the smile of gratitude I received from this eager businessman, hooked me into being a repeat customer. A great return on investment.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
YUMMY!!!
Alan sang his first “happy birthday” today to a friend. He's heard this song many times recently, as this week marks the birthday of a 3-year-old, 30 year old, 40 year old and a 70 year old. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! We’ve had lots of cake (more to come!) and have enjoyed the company of great friends and family. Here’s a photo of Alan enjoying chocolate cake at Aunt Sandy’s birthday party this past weekend. (Photo credit: Jerry Landay)
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Cells that stick around - and more
I read this very interesting article about how cells from babies remain in the mother’s body after birth, and travel throughout her body, morphing into different places in her body fighting diseases. For example, if a woman has a liver malfunction, they have tracked how these baby cells somehow turn into liver cells to help fight disease. People are optimistic because it mirrors what is happening with stem cell research without having the controversial side effects. Of course the down side is that some researchers disagree, and believe that that these cells might have a detrimental affect causing autoimmune deficiencies, while others believe they are just benign. Fascinating. I like thinking that a part of Alan is still with me.
On a much different topic, how did you beat the heat today? We sought relief at the beach at the bottom of the hill. The village has put down fresh sand and the broken swings have been replaced, making it a much nicer place to visit. We met up with friends and shared bagfuls of buckets, shovels and floating devices. After Alan’s nap I ran to the store leaving Alan with Pop-Pop and Bootie. I snuck to the ice cream stand for a twisty cone (small), a little pre-dinner treat. Bootie barbequed and washed the dishes, so I felt some relief from the day-to-day cooking routine. Alan is still a picky eater, even with the shape of pasta. Today he wanted (demanded) “shells”. (sigh)
Oh, and if you didn't get a chance yet to listen to the Pavarotti/James Brown duet, go to my posting from earlier today.
Stay cool! :) Michelle
On a much different topic, how did you beat the heat today? We sought relief at the beach at the bottom of the hill. The village has put down fresh sand and the broken swings have been replaced, making it a much nicer place to visit. We met up with friends and shared bagfuls of buckets, shovels and floating devices. After Alan’s nap I ran to the store leaving Alan with Pop-Pop and Bootie. I snuck to the ice cream stand for a twisty cone (small), a little pre-dinner treat. Bootie barbequed and washed the dishes, so I felt some relief from the day-to-day cooking routine. Alan is still a picky eater, even with the shape of pasta. Today he wanted (demanded) “shells”. (sigh)
Oh, and if you didn't get a chance yet to listen to the Pavarotti/James Brown duet, go to my posting from earlier today.
Stay cool! :) Michelle
Tenor Tuesday (Duet: Pavarotti and James Brown)
Pavarotti is the greatest tenor in living memory. James Brown is the King of Soul. Watch the magic that happens when these legends perform together. I think you will find this duet to be quite amazing.
Here’s the link to the YouTube video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7OrK2_9nnZg
Here’s the link to the YouTube video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7OrK2_9nnZg
Monday, June 25, 2007
Journey - Part 3
I’m always envious of the world traveler who hops on a plane as if it were a NYC taxicab. “Take me to Tibet!” they say, and off they go with a duffle bag packed scarcely with a change of clothes, laptop and digital camera. This weekend on a road trip to Rhode Island, I sat in my driveway for about 15 minutes as if a co-pilot examining our cargo which had been squeezed into our 4-door sedan. Do we have enough diapers? “Check!” “Teething tablets? “Check”. Concluding my mental list of necessities, we finally set on our journey - three hours behind schedule.
Upon arrival at Grandma’s, Alan began his exploration of his new surroundings. He immediately created a familiar anchor that he gravitated to with repetitious play. He discovered a door that opened to a small deck outside of Grandma’s office. Like a doorman, he played “can I open it for you”, at least 3000 times. During the height of the party, he continued playing this game, connecting with people he had just met. His ability to create familiar markers within unfamiliar surroundings was a coping strategy which fascinated me.
Did he inherit this from me? In some ways, he has my intuitive sense of place. I am hardly a world traveler, but throughout all of my journeys (personal, professional, spiritual), I have always sought a connection to place to the point that it is imbedded within my identity. (I may at some point expand upon this)
And while the world traveler dots the map creating a constellation of memories, I embark on new journeys as if creating concentric circles, overlapping and expanding. There is comfort in being rooted in a sense of place, grounded and supported by an inner foundation.
So whether it’s asking a Rhode Island stranger to direct me to the nearest park, or delighting in knowing every crack in the sidewalk within my home town, my landscape continues to take shape.
MORE LATER....
Upon arrival at Grandma’s, Alan began his exploration of his new surroundings. He immediately created a familiar anchor that he gravitated to with repetitious play. He discovered a door that opened to a small deck outside of Grandma’s office. Like a doorman, he played “can I open it for you”, at least 3000 times. During the height of the party, he continued playing this game, connecting with people he had just met. His ability to create familiar markers within unfamiliar surroundings was a coping strategy which fascinated me.
Did he inherit this from me? In some ways, he has my intuitive sense of place. I am hardly a world traveler, but throughout all of my journeys (personal, professional, spiritual), I have always sought a connection to place to the point that it is imbedded within my identity. (I may at some point expand upon this)
And while the world traveler dots the map creating a constellation of memories, I embark on new journeys as if creating concentric circles, overlapping and expanding. There is comfort in being rooted in a sense of place, grounded and supported by an inner foundation.
So whether it’s asking a Rhode Island stranger to direct me to the nearest park, or delighting in knowing every crack in the sidewalk within my home town, my landscape continues to take shape.
MORE LATER....
Friday, June 22, 2007
Journey - Part 2
Didn’t you notice? I conveniently left out comments on my own journey(s) in my “What’s is your journey” blog. Was it an unconscious deletion? A guarded omission? Or was it because it was so late that I couldn’t possibly know where to begin? I began thinking about this as I packed tonight for Rhode Island. Though I’ll be off-line for a few days, I’ll post on this next week. In the meantime, have a great weekend, and thank you for checking in.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
In Search of Blue-Eyes
His distinctive blue-eyes seem peculiar for a horse. I felt his absence today as we called for the horses alongside a private ranch. We stop here regularly on the way home from my parent’s condo. Bundles of hay are conveniently left out for passersby to feed the horses, and the blue-eyed horse has always been the first to peek his head from under the kiosk, trotting to greet us.
I have named this brown and white horse “Blue-Eyes”, but I don’t know his real name. He sticks out as the friendliest horse on the ranch, always letting us pet his nose. Since he wasn’t there today, I tried to familiarize myself with the other five horses, but only one other horse remained near us. I was able to read his tag. I playful asked him if he knew where I could find “Blue Eyes”. But he seemed more interested in reaching for the hay than interacting with us. Once Alan grew bored of throwing hay in the air, and the horse returned to his kiosk, we continued our journey home.
When I came home, I curiously typed the keyword: “blue-eyed horse” on a search engine. I’m not sure why, but for some reason, I had been affected by his absence. I couldn’t believe what I learned. Do you know that there is a non-profit organization whose main goal is to promote the education of blue-eyed horses as a means to stop the “disposal” of horses with blue eyes? Who would have thought that such an organization would exist?
Their name: The Blue Eyed Horse Association:
Fascinated, I read on:
Excerpt from: www.chasenit.com/page16.html
Another myth put upon horses with blue eyes is that they are less worthy because they are different. FACT: Blue-eyed horses are horses with unique eye color. Just like humans have many different eye colors, dogs, cats, etc. It is merely a COLOR. They are not blind because they have blue eyes. They are not diseased because they have blue eyes. They are not less trainable because they have blue eyes. They are not disposable because they have blue eyes. ….
....Our goal is promote, provide education, show, and track the blue eyed horse. We at the Blue Eyed Horse Association decided it was time to document and study blue eyed horses and their uniqueness and put an end to needless disposal of horses because of this sometimes misunderstood trait. Many registries have been started as a means for tracing and understanding various traits in horses. With future and past documentation of blue eyed horses and forums we hope to help shed some light on this sometimes "touchy" subject. We will continue to support the breeding of quality horses and adding a bit of "flare" with some sparkling blue-eyes to boot!
With my parents here the next two months, I will continue visiting the horses at this ranch. I hope Blue-Eyes will be there.
Below is the winner of a photo contest, held by the Blue-Eyed Horse Association. The horse bears a striking resemblance to “Blue-Eyes.”
Winner: Szabos Dream Cloud
I have named this brown and white horse “Blue-Eyes”, but I don’t know his real name. He sticks out as the friendliest horse on the ranch, always letting us pet his nose. Since he wasn’t there today, I tried to familiarize myself with the other five horses, but only one other horse remained near us. I was able to read his tag. I playful asked him if he knew where I could find “Blue Eyes”. But he seemed more interested in reaching for the hay than interacting with us. Once Alan grew bored of throwing hay in the air, and the horse returned to his kiosk, we continued our journey home.
When I came home, I curiously typed the keyword: “blue-eyed horse” on a search engine. I’m not sure why, but for some reason, I had been affected by his absence. I couldn’t believe what I learned. Do you know that there is a non-profit organization whose main goal is to promote the education of blue-eyed horses as a means to stop the “disposal” of horses with blue eyes? Who would have thought that such an organization would exist?
Their name: The Blue Eyed Horse Association:
Fascinated, I read on:
Excerpt from: www.chasenit.com/page16.html
Another myth put upon horses with blue eyes is that they are less worthy because they are different. FACT: Blue-eyed horses are horses with unique eye color. Just like humans have many different eye colors, dogs, cats, etc. It is merely a COLOR. They are not blind because they have blue eyes. They are not diseased because they have blue eyes. They are not less trainable because they have blue eyes. They are not disposable because they have blue eyes. ….
....Our goal is promote, provide education, show, and track the blue eyed horse. We at the Blue Eyed Horse Association decided it was time to document and study blue eyed horses and their uniqueness and put an end to needless disposal of horses because of this sometimes misunderstood trait. Many registries have been started as a means for tracing and understanding various traits in horses. With future and past documentation of blue eyed horses and forums we hope to help shed some light on this sometimes "touchy" subject. We will continue to support the breeding of quality horses and adding a bit of "flare" with some sparkling blue-eyes to boot!
With my parents here the next two months, I will continue visiting the horses at this ranch. I hope Blue-Eyes will be there.
Below is the winner of a photo contest, held by the Blue-Eyed Horse Association. The horse bears a striking resemblance to “Blue-Eyes.”
Winner: Szabos Dream Cloud
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
What is your journey?
What is your journey? Taken literally, my parents at this moment are preparing for the red eye from Arizona to New York with the purpose of visiting Alan. It’s also the time of year when many of us are planning our summer getaways. Or maybe this weekend you are planning a hike up Overlook Mountain?
Or maybe your journey is one that seeks to satisfy your career aspirations. There may be a new area you wish to explore or skill you want to learn. Much of my college advising experience was spent helping students find the resources (internal and external) to equip themselves for these types of journeys. Dialog with students on this topic often started out with the simplest question: What are your interests?
Or maybe you are devoted to a spiritual journey seeking to connect with the divine. You may be on this journey collectively with others on Sunday, or seek the solitude of the journey through prayer and music. In a world complicated with war, violence and chaos, it’s no wonder that so many people seek paths towards harmony and peace.
Today, I stumbled upon a Shaker hymn which I have pasted below. I thought it quite serendipitous, especially since I’ve been struggling with what to write about today. You are a challenging audience! Your diversity of interests makes it quite difficult to find common threads. But when I read this hymn, it seemed to connect us all together on both a deep and superficial level.
Its message is as simple as its words. Delight!
‘Tis a gift to be simple
‘Tis a gift to be free
‘Tis a gift to come down
Where we ought to be
And when we find ourselves
In the place that’s right
“twill be in the valley
Oh love and delight.
Nineteenth Century Shaker Hymn
‘Tis a gift to be simple
‘Tis a gift to be free
‘Tis a gift to come down
Where we ought to be
And when we find ourselves
In the place that’s right
“twill be in the valley
Oh love and delight.
Nineteenth Century Shaker Hymn
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Today It Was Blueberries!
The highlight of my day was mixing Portia and Louis’s leftover blueberries into a bowl of batter this afternoon.
Having cancelled all activities this week until Alan is better, I was feeling a little housebound and lonely. I spent most of my energy racking my brain for yet another anti-television, anti-Dr. Seuss activity. I decided on making muffins. Instead of from scratch, I decided the easy route, and found a box of blueberry muffin mix. I knew they would come out dry and bland, but yet I was happy that I had found an activity that would eat up at least 30 minutes.
I opened the refrigerator to get out the eggs and milk. Behind the carton of milk, I discovered the leftover blueberries that Louis and Portia had brought over this weekend. What a coincidence! I smiled at remembering our lively Sunday dinner that ended with ice cream topped with fresh blueberries (and granola and peanut butter and cool whip).
The timing was perfect.
Having cancelled all activities this week until Alan is better, I was feeling a little housebound and lonely. I spent most of my energy racking my brain for yet another anti-television, anti-Dr. Seuss activity. I decided on making muffins. Instead of from scratch, I decided the easy route, and found a box of blueberry muffin mix. I knew they would come out dry and bland, but yet I was happy that I had found an activity that would eat up at least 30 minutes.
I opened the refrigerator to get out the eggs and milk. Behind the carton of milk, I discovered the leftover blueberries that Louis and Portia had brought over this weekend. What a coincidence! I smiled at remembering our lively Sunday dinner that ended with ice cream topped with fresh blueberries (and granola and peanut butter and cool whip).
The timing was perfect.
It doesn’t take much to come across tokens of friendships – they are all around me and come in quite handy when feeling lonely. Quite frequently, I find them in the frig - whether it be a dessert dropped off by a neighbor, or a new recipe given to me by Jamie. It could be a familiar song, or a blue hand-painted wooden box given to me by Marie over 10 years ago that still sits on my mantle. Today it was blueberries.
Postscript #1: Alan loves playing “mix the batter”. This time he altered the game by grabbing a handful of the mix (still dry). Before I could stop him, his mouth (entire body) was covered in powder.
Postscript #2: The muffins came out delicious and were enjoyed with an afternoon cup of coffee on the porch. I am fighting the urge to go downstairs right now for another one!
Monday, June 18, 2007
A Walk in the Woods
A walk in the woods
I had forgotten how much I love walking in the woods. Today we explored the Esopus Bend Creek Preserve. Worried that Alan might skin a knee while running down the hill, I dressed him in long pants despite the warm weather. Luckily, the trail is marked by a thick layer of woodchips, offering some cushioning should one topple over. At the top of the hill, I discovered blackberry bushes, but they were still too green to eat. I was excited that Alan had remembered “moss” from the weekend’s outing to Minnewaska. Other new discoveries today were “mushrooms” and “feathers”, but he seemed more interested in throwing stones and digging with rocks. There is a creek running down the hill which empties into the Esopus. We stayed out of the water though, because Alan has a pretty bad cough. But we had fun crossing the creek via a wooden plank.
This setting reminded me of a tribute to the historian Alf Evers years ago that was held in the woods behind his house in Shady, NY. Various musicians played on a flat-rock stage at the bottom of a hill. It was my first time in the woods when it was raining. Yet, when Jay and Molly played Ashokan Farwell, the sun appeared. Grace, Alf’s neighbor, also invited us to the Sawkill creek, where we picnicked and created a dam out of stones and played Scrabble on the rocks. Today, I thought that the Esopus creek would make a great backdrop for such a get-together. I should give her a call.
So I guess you can say that I’m starting to feel more connected to nature again. It’s been almost five years since we moved from the Ashokan snake-house to Saugerties. I’m thinking we should head up there for our next outing. I miss the spillway, the sunsets, the mountain views, hunting for fossils along the waters edge, the aerator and of course the “frying pan.” (This will be a great place for Alan to run).
I had forgotten how much I love walking in the woods. Today we explored the Esopus Bend Creek Preserve. Worried that Alan might skin a knee while running down the hill, I dressed him in long pants despite the warm weather. Luckily, the trail is marked by a thick layer of woodchips, offering some cushioning should one topple over. At the top of the hill, I discovered blackberry bushes, but they were still too green to eat. I was excited that Alan had remembered “moss” from the weekend’s outing to Minnewaska. Other new discoveries today were “mushrooms” and “feathers”, but he seemed more interested in throwing stones and digging with rocks. There is a creek running down the hill which empties into the Esopus. We stayed out of the water though, because Alan has a pretty bad cough. But we had fun crossing the creek via a wooden plank.
This setting reminded me of a tribute to the historian Alf Evers years ago that was held in the woods behind his house in Shady, NY. Various musicians played on a flat-rock stage at the bottom of a hill. It was my first time in the woods when it was raining. Yet, when Jay and Molly played Ashokan Farwell, the sun appeared. Grace, Alf’s neighbor, also invited us to the Sawkill creek, where we picnicked and created a dam out of stones and played Scrabble on the rocks. Today, I thought that the Esopus creek would make a great backdrop for such a get-together. I should give her a call.
So I guess you can say that I’m starting to feel more connected to nature again. It’s been almost five years since we moved from the Ashokan snake-house to Saugerties. I’m thinking we should head up there for our next outing. I miss the spillway, the sunsets, the mountain views, hunting for fossils along the waters edge, the aerator and of course the “frying pan.” (This will be a great place for Alan to run).
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Hints at Happiness
Hints at Happiness
At my second visit to the Saugerties Library book sale two weeks ago, they announced that all books could be taken for free! I happily began piling books into a box, ones that I wouldn’t normally buy including Great Tasting Recipes with Spam. I chuckled at the opportunity of buying a can of Spam, and wrapping it up as part of a gag gift.
Another book caught my eye, Heloise’s Housekeeping Hints. The edges were brown and stained, and I thought it would make another perfect gag gift for someone who (like myself) is challenged in this area. Yet this morning when I picked it up and began flipping through her housekeeping tips, the humor disappeared as fast as dust being vacuumed off a dirty floor.
Written in 1962, I expected a certain amount of outdated references such as “office girls” and “housewife”. But I was struck by how certain parts of the book undervalued women when read with today’s perspective. For examples, she connected happiness to cleanliness with comments (both explicit and implicit) that a clean home is a happy home. In addition, she diminished the potential of women with references such as “accept the fact that you are a woman” and “I am no writer and never intend to be. I am just a mother and housewife, like you.” Other parts just left me baffled. What does she mean when she says “Keep in mind too…the second wife always has a maid!”
At the same time, I surprisingly related to some of her ideas. I think all women can relate to feeling like their work is never done (being totally tired all the time, and have envy for those with super clean houses.) So forty-five years later, women still share housekeeping tips, reveal stories about frustrated expectations, and chit chat (and vent) with each other about their children, husbands and careers. Yet luckily within my circle of women (married, single, with/without children), we bond in ways that value each other’s potential and goals, and support each other with our personal decisions. We know what happiness means, and it’s not found when folding clothes.
So this may not be the best book for a gag gift. I’m not sure what to do with it. I think maybe Great Tasting Recipes with Spam will be more appropriate for light-hearted humor. Though Spam may still be eaten by a small sect of society, luckily the rules of happiness are not tied to the pan it’s fried in.
Below is an excerpt from Heloise’s Housekeeping Hints.
Dear Fellow Housewives:
To each and every one of you mother’s, housewives, homemakers everywhere, a special blessing. You certainly deserve it!
I’m not talking here to the fanatical housekeeper (I used to be one before I took some hints) but to the everyday housewife with children, tired working mothers, office girls and those who just never find the time to get everything done that needs to be done. You never will….don’t think you can.
All women have more than they can do because they take on more than they have strength for. A woman did not (in the old days) paint her kitchen, wash the car, drive the children to school, weed the lawn, pay the bills, worry about budgeting and insurance. Her husband did these things or hired someone.
Today’s woman is expected to be well-read, faultlessly groomed, a nursemaid, laundress, seamstress, hostess, cook, gardener, painter, appliance repairman, wallpaper hanger, carpenter, exterminator (for those awful bugs of all sorts) and jane-of-all-trades!
Being a homemaker is a big job for anyone, and you and I are going to make mistakes. But so what? That’s the way we learn!
So relieve your mind of a lot of its frustrations by simply accepting the fact that you are a woman. Next, make yourself believe that you do the best you can. Probably you do! Tranquilizers are expensive…so are doctors’ bills. Instead of worrying yourself into a state of jitters over keeping a “perfect” house, let this book show you how to make it easier for yourself.
I’ll try to write and talk in everyday simple down-to-earth language…as in a telephone conversation or while sharing housewives’ chores with a friend and neighbor. I am no authority and I admit it! I have had to do things the hard way, by trial and experience. I am no writer and never intend to be. I am just a mother and housewife, like you. But the things in this book worked for me – they will for you too!
First of all, when you neighbor or friend tells you she has everything done …don’t believe it! She hasn’t. No woman ever does. And won’t even when she is six feet under. (That “six-feet-under” means dirt!)
Accept this fact. Don’t try to keep up with your neighbor. Enjoy living day-by-day (and keep up with yourself) by learning the short cuts. Top clean first, then get around to deep cleaning.
The chapters in this books are definitely concerned with “top-cleaning” and quickie-jet-age-make-do methods to help you run your home as best you can and still keep calm. (This is your most important job…keeping calm!) My main purpose is to help you get your home in order so that you have the extra time and inclination to really deep-clean later. With your home top-cleaned and in order you will find the time to plan occasional, thorough cleanings.
Keep in mind when reading each chapter that this book was not written for anyone except you: my fellow woman, and I hope, my friend. Not your neighbor, not your husband, not your mother-in-law or the boss’s wife. These are the very people you are trying to impress with your neatness. Keep that secret to yourself!
Keep in mind too…the second wife always has a maid! Your husband will not look under the bed or on the ceiling at night to see if he can find a cobweb. Your husband wants a neat house and a happy wife and family. That’s all!
And you know what? I have never had a guest in my home move a sofa or open a drawer to check and see if I had clutter, dirt or cobwebs! Really!
And girls, another thing. Jar loose once in a while and spend a few nickels or dollars on yourself. Don’t do without those few simple things that would make your life easier, such as a carpet-sweeper, plumber’s-friend, feather-duster and pants-stretchers. Spend that few dollars for them.
Life is so very short and so sweet. Live every day. Be neat and get rid of clutter and top-clean your house. It’s easy! I am forty-two years old and had to learn the hard way. Take it from me: Learn the short cuts.
Then spend the energy and time you have saved being kind to your family and friends, but most of all to yourself. You deserve it the most.
At my second visit to the Saugerties Library book sale two weeks ago, they announced that all books could be taken for free! I happily began piling books into a box, ones that I wouldn’t normally buy including Great Tasting Recipes with Spam. I chuckled at the opportunity of buying a can of Spam, and wrapping it up as part of a gag gift.
Another book caught my eye, Heloise’s Housekeeping Hints. The edges were brown and stained, and I thought it would make another perfect gag gift for someone who (like myself) is challenged in this area. Yet this morning when I picked it up and began flipping through her housekeeping tips, the humor disappeared as fast as dust being vacuumed off a dirty floor.
Written in 1962, I expected a certain amount of outdated references such as “office girls” and “housewife”. But I was struck by how certain parts of the book undervalued women when read with today’s perspective. For examples, she connected happiness to cleanliness with comments (both explicit and implicit) that a clean home is a happy home. In addition, she diminished the potential of women with references such as “accept the fact that you are a woman” and “I am no writer and never intend to be. I am just a mother and housewife, like you.” Other parts just left me baffled. What does she mean when she says “Keep in mind too…the second wife always has a maid!”
At the same time, I surprisingly related to some of her ideas. I think all women can relate to feeling like their work is never done (being totally tired all the time, and have envy for those with super clean houses.) So forty-five years later, women still share housekeeping tips, reveal stories about frustrated expectations, and chit chat (and vent) with each other about their children, husbands and careers. Yet luckily within my circle of women (married, single, with/without children), we bond in ways that value each other’s potential and goals, and support each other with our personal decisions. We know what happiness means, and it’s not found when folding clothes.
So this may not be the best book for a gag gift. I’m not sure what to do with it. I think maybe Great Tasting Recipes with Spam will be more appropriate for light-hearted humor. Though Spam may still be eaten by a small sect of society, luckily the rules of happiness are not tied to the pan it’s fried in.
Below is an excerpt from Heloise’s Housekeeping Hints.
Dear Fellow Housewives:
To each and every one of you mother’s, housewives, homemakers everywhere, a special blessing. You certainly deserve it!
I’m not talking here to the fanatical housekeeper (I used to be one before I took some hints) but to the everyday housewife with children, tired working mothers, office girls and those who just never find the time to get everything done that needs to be done. You never will….don’t think you can.
All women have more than they can do because they take on more than they have strength for. A woman did not (in the old days) paint her kitchen, wash the car, drive the children to school, weed the lawn, pay the bills, worry about budgeting and insurance. Her husband did these things or hired someone.
Today’s woman is expected to be well-read, faultlessly groomed, a nursemaid, laundress, seamstress, hostess, cook, gardener, painter, appliance repairman, wallpaper hanger, carpenter, exterminator (for those awful bugs of all sorts) and jane-of-all-trades!
Being a homemaker is a big job for anyone, and you and I are going to make mistakes. But so what? That’s the way we learn!
So relieve your mind of a lot of its frustrations by simply accepting the fact that you are a woman. Next, make yourself believe that you do the best you can. Probably you do! Tranquilizers are expensive…so are doctors’ bills. Instead of worrying yourself into a state of jitters over keeping a “perfect” house, let this book show you how to make it easier for yourself.
I’ll try to write and talk in everyday simple down-to-earth language…as in a telephone conversation or while sharing housewives’ chores with a friend and neighbor. I am no authority and I admit it! I have had to do things the hard way, by trial and experience. I am no writer and never intend to be. I am just a mother and housewife, like you. But the things in this book worked for me – they will for you too!
First of all, when you neighbor or friend tells you she has everything done …don’t believe it! She hasn’t. No woman ever does. And won’t even when she is six feet under. (That “six-feet-under” means dirt!)
Accept this fact. Don’t try to keep up with your neighbor. Enjoy living day-by-day (and keep up with yourself) by learning the short cuts. Top clean first, then get around to deep cleaning.
The chapters in this books are definitely concerned with “top-cleaning” and quickie-jet-age-make-do methods to help you run your home as best you can and still keep calm. (This is your most important job…keeping calm!) My main purpose is to help you get your home in order so that you have the extra time and inclination to really deep-clean later. With your home top-cleaned and in order you will find the time to plan occasional, thorough cleanings.
Keep in mind when reading each chapter that this book was not written for anyone except you: my fellow woman, and I hope, my friend. Not your neighbor, not your husband, not your mother-in-law or the boss’s wife. These are the very people you are trying to impress with your neatness. Keep that secret to yourself!
Keep in mind too…the second wife always has a maid! Your husband will not look under the bed or on the ceiling at night to see if he can find a cobweb. Your husband wants a neat house and a happy wife and family. That’s all!
And you know what? I have never had a guest in my home move a sofa or open a drawer to check and see if I had clutter, dirt or cobwebs! Really!
And girls, another thing. Jar loose once in a while and spend a few nickels or dollars on yourself. Don’t do without those few simple things that would make your life easier, such as a carpet-sweeper, plumber’s-friend, feather-duster and pants-stretchers. Spend that few dollars for them.
Life is so very short and so sweet. Live every day. Be neat and get rid of clutter and top-clean your house. It’s easy! I am forty-two years old and had to learn the hard way. Take it from me: Learn the short cuts.
Then spend the energy and time you have saved being kind to your family and friends, but most of all to yourself. You deserve it the most.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Lake Minnewaska
What a gift to see the delicate white flowers of the mountain laurel in full bloom along the trails at Lake Minnewaska. The ecology here is different than other places. As the water is too acidic for certain fish, one finds an abundance of fireflies, salamanders, and snakes.
The kick-off to their swimming season begins tomorrow, so we had to be extra careful without a lifeguard. The good news is that we had the entire beach to ourselves, except for a painter perched on the rocks behind us and several bicyclers, hikers and dogs. I had forgotten that the beach consists mainly of small stones, so we needed to keep our shoes on, even in the water. Luckily, Alan and I both had sandals. The water was warmer than expected.
Our small group consisted of Nino (3) and his mother, Ivan (3) and his parents, and Alan (2). Each boy approached the lake differently. Nino, wearing his orange block floaties around his waist, plunged right in, eager for his mom to join him. Ivan played in the water with his dad at waist level, with a tiny boat singing songs. Alan was more guarded, staying closer to the edge where he would fill and empty the red bucket. He was more interested in making music with sticks and rocks and exploring the woods. I took him on a short walk down a path and had him feel the thick moss from under a tree.
While walking on the docks, I spotted a very large snake swimming behind Ivan's dad. It looked brownish, not unlike the water moccasin we found last year, so I couldn’t determine if it was poisonous. I calmly ushered the small group out of the water, mouthing the word “snake” so as to not create a panic. We spent the next few moments on the dock trying to find the snake to show the children.
Later, we found a much smaller snake swimming across the water which excited all of us. When I pointed out a salamander, a brave child plunked his hand into the water and caught it. As a group of us gathered around to see, I heard his mother whisper to him that he should return it to its home.
We packed up shortly after lunch, and slowly meandered back to our cars. I jokingly boasted how I was responsible for the grass at the top of the hill. (AmeriCorps students re-seeded the grass as part of a community service project). I certainly can’t take credit for everything else. Within Lake Minnewaska’s majestic surrounding, I found myself appreciating its simple beauty. Is mountain laurel an evergreen? What side of a tree does moss grow on? Are brown snakes poisonous?
Thank you for a memorable day!
The kick-off to their swimming season begins tomorrow, so we had to be extra careful without a lifeguard. The good news is that we had the entire beach to ourselves, except for a painter perched on the rocks behind us and several bicyclers, hikers and dogs. I had forgotten that the beach consists mainly of small stones, so we needed to keep our shoes on, even in the water. Luckily, Alan and I both had sandals. The water was warmer than expected.
Our small group consisted of Nino (3) and his mother, Ivan (3) and his parents, and Alan (2). Each boy approached the lake differently. Nino, wearing his orange block floaties around his waist, plunged right in, eager for his mom to join him. Ivan played in the water with his dad at waist level, with a tiny boat singing songs. Alan was more guarded, staying closer to the edge where he would fill and empty the red bucket. He was more interested in making music with sticks and rocks and exploring the woods. I took him on a short walk down a path and had him feel the thick moss from under a tree.
While walking on the docks, I spotted a very large snake swimming behind Ivan's dad. It looked brownish, not unlike the water moccasin we found last year, so I couldn’t determine if it was poisonous. I calmly ushered the small group out of the water, mouthing the word “snake” so as to not create a panic. We spent the next few moments on the dock trying to find the snake to show the children.
Later, we found a much smaller snake swimming across the water which excited all of us. When I pointed out a salamander, a brave child plunked his hand into the water and caught it. As a group of us gathered around to see, I heard his mother whisper to him that he should return it to its home.
We packed up shortly after lunch, and slowly meandered back to our cars. I jokingly boasted how I was responsible for the grass at the top of the hill. (AmeriCorps students re-seeded the grass as part of a community service project). I certainly can’t take credit for everything else. Within Lake Minnewaska’s majestic surrounding, I found myself appreciating its simple beauty. Is mountain laurel an evergreen? What side of a tree does moss grow on? Are brown snakes poisonous?
Thank you for a memorable day!
Postscript: Melanie took photos of the boys in the water. As soon as they become available, I will post.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Blossom
Below are lyrics to Blossom, my favorite James Taylor song. I've never seen him perform this particular song live, but I feel lucky that someone posted it on YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8L8s34dPVSs
What a treat to see performances ranging from his early years to recent tributes.
He’s already sold out at Tanglewood this summer, so I’m disppointed we’ll miss him. I’m eager for Alan to see him perform since he’s such a fan. His new favorite JT song is There's a Well on the Hill. He sings this when running up and down our driveway. Unfortunately, JT uses the word "kill" in the song, so I have tried to overlap this by saying "chill". It's similar to SteamRoller when we sing over his famous last line.
There is also streaming audio of some of JT's newer songs at http://www.jamestaylor.com/
Enjoy!
Blossom
Blossom, smile some sunshine down my way
Lately, I’ve been lonesome
Blossom, its been much too long a day
Seems my dreams have frozen
Melt my cares away
Send the sunshine down my way whenever you call my name
I know what you mean to say to me, girl, its all the same
Blossom, there's an empty road behind
Sit you down beside me
Blossom, there's a sweet dream on my mind
There's a song inside me
Take these chains away
Now, send the sunshine down my way whenever you call my name
I know what you mean to say to me, girl, its all the same
Blossom, smile some sunshine down my way
Lately, Ive been lonesome
Blossom, its been much too long a day
Seems my dreams have frozen
Melt my cares away
Seems my dreams have frozen
Melt my cares away
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
My First Byline
My first article has been published in Excurionz Magazine, a Connecticut-based publication focusing on travel, tourism and real estate. This is the debut edition distributed this month, holding a circulation of 15,000. The article features rescued horses which are being rehabbed at Lakeridge, a private condo community in Litchfield County, Connecticut.
I was very pleased with the layout including the photographs. Though it is not available on-line, I will try to get it scanned so that you can take a look. I’m sure you’ll see it framed and on my office wall by the end of the week.
I’m not sure if we are attending the launch party next week – that will be Mom and Dad’s first day back in New York.
I was very pleased with the layout including the photographs. Though it is not available on-line, I will try to get it scanned so that you can take a look. I’m sure you’ll see it framed and on my office wall by the end of the week.
I’m not sure if we are attending the launch party next week – that will be Mom and Dad’s first day back in New York.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
I've Got the Parmesan Blues
I forgot to re-up my mega-supply of parmesan cheese this week at the supermarket. Known for whipping Italian meals together without ever referring to a recipe, I’m wondering just what we are going to eat this week without grated cheese. Instead of trekking all the way back to the store for parmesan, do you think this could be a sign?
I’ve needed a little drama in the kitchen lately, so maybe the absence of parmesan is a worthy crisis. Instead of resorting to the old pasta and veggie standby (a parmesan required ingredient), this week I’ll have to get a little bit more creative.
Luckily, I recently made a commitment to preparing at least one new dish each week. Therefore, my cupboards are filled with new spices and ingredients. Measuring cups and spoons have resurfaced, and friends have lent an empathic ear.
It’s Jamie’s fault for my recent affair with pineapple black bean enchiladas. Within the last two weeks, I have made this dish four (okay 5) times. Maybe it’s the intermingling of the sweet pineapples and red peppers - along with the spiciness of the enchilada sauce -that give those bland black beans a tango worth tasting!
The ticklish idea of grading the “zest” of a lemon prompted me for last night’s new meal: Pork Chops with Sage and Lemon Breadcrumbs. This one was discovered in Real Simple magazine, but yet it had the most peculiar mix of ingredients: tomato sauce, lemon, sage, and breadcrumbs. My favorite part of preparing this meal was mixing the fresh sage, lemon, and garlic into a bowl of breadcrumbs with my bare hands.
With these two dishes under my belt, I’m excited about this challenge of making it through the week without parmesan. Plus, they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I wonder if that includes cheese?
Postscript #1: Literally moments ago my garlic press split in half.
Postscript#2: If you read this far and would like either recipes, I’d be happy to share them with you.
I’ve needed a little drama in the kitchen lately, so maybe the absence of parmesan is a worthy crisis. Instead of resorting to the old pasta and veggie standby (a parmesan required ingredient), this week I’ll have to get a little bit more creative.
Luckily, I recently made a commitment to preparing at least one new dish each week. Therefore, my cupboards are filled with new spices and ingredients. Measuring cups and spoons have resurfaced, and friends have lent an empathic ear.
It’s Jamie’s fault for my recent affair with pineapple black bean enchiladas. Within the last two weeks, I have made this dish four (okay 5) times. Maybe it’s the intermingling of the sweet pineapples and red peppers - along with the spiciness of the enchilada sauce -that give those bland black beans a tango worth tasting!
The ticklish idea of grading the “zest” of a lemon prompted me for last night’s new meal: Pork Chops with Sage and Lemon Breadcrumbs. This one was discovered in Real Simple magazine, but yet it had the most peculiar mix of ingredients: tomato sauce, lemon, sage, and breadcrumbs. My favorite part of preparing this meal was mixing the fresh sage, lemon, and garlic into a bowl of breadcrumbs with my bare hands.
With these two dishes under my belt, I’m excited about this challenge of making it through the week without parmesan. Plus, they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I wonder if that includes cheese?
Postscript #1: Literally moments ago my garlic press split in half.
Postscript#2: If you read this far and would like either recipes, I’d be happy to share them with you.
A Few Poems
The Beach
there is no mystery in a wave
the moon pulls and the rest behaves
and what washes upon the shore
is a reminder that life once began in a shell.
Untitled
i’m anonymous –
holding onto pieces of myself with the strength
of a stereotype.
your gangster face weeps.
who shredded your smile?
The Seducer (written in my notebook while attending a philosophy course)
i was told about nietzsche, that he was dead
and love was a mere acceptance of being.
your dreams, as simple as a rose bush, secretly became mine.
maybe kierkegaard’s diary holds the answer,
or shall it remain timeless?
FLOWER POEMS
Anemone (one of my favorite flowers)
she's a grove-queen grasping for red
topless and manic, with bits of cold-black
bathing in a kettle-fizz of pink that bursts
into a numb and hot flower.
Hydrangea
i understand deadwood;
the emerging leaf
from a stem.
there is no mystery in a wave
the moon pulls and the rest behaves
and what washes upon the shore
is a reminder that life once began in a shell.
Untitled
i’m anonymous –
holding onto pieces of myself with the strength
of a stereotype.
your gangster face weeps.
who shredded your smile?
The Seducer (written in my notebook while attending a philosophy course)
i was told about nietzsche, that he was dead
and love was a mere acceptance of being.
your dreams, as simple as a rose bush, secretly became mine.
maybe kierkegaard’s diary holds the answer,
or shall it remain timeless?
FLOWER POEMS
Anemone (one of my favorite flowers)
she's a grove-queen grasping for red
topless and manic, with bits of cold-black
bathing in a kettle-fizz of pink that bursts
into a numb and hot flower.
Hydrangea
i understand deadwood;
the emerging leaf
from a stem.
Monday, June 11, 2007
O Sole Mio (My Sun)
During childhood visits to Grandma’s big white house on State St., we cha-cha-cha’d from room to room stepping over sheet music scattered onto the floor from Grandpa’s guitar case. Sometimes he would take out his banjo, or would be accompanied by Uncle Pat on the accordion. Grandma was always close by, usually in the kitchen, humming a familiar tune while sprinkling sugar over something sweet.
In my late 20’s, the winter before Grandma passed away, she visited me in my Kingston apartment during Christmas vacation. We watched the three Tenors (a la Pavarotti) on my VCR about 30 times. We talked a lot that week, and I asked her many questions. She told me how Grandpa serenaded her outside her window before they were married, and that it was Aunt Rose who finally convinced her to give him a chance.
Whenever I go to a live music event, or hear Pavarotti, I always think about my grandparents. New questions always surface. Did Grandpa ever compose a song? What song was Grandma always humming? What did he sing to her that night?
In my late 20’s, the winter before Grandma passed away, she visited me in my Kingston apartment during Christmas vacation. We watched the three Tenors (a la Pavarotti) on my VCR about 30 times. We talked a lot that week, and I asked her many questions. She told me how Grandpa serenaded her outside her window before they were married, and that it was Aunt Rose who finally convinced her to give him a chance.
Whenever I go to a live music event, or hear Pavarotti, I always think about my grandparents. New questions always surface. Did Grandpa ever compose a song? What song was Grandma always humming? What did he sing to her that night?
Below is the English translation of O Sole Mio along with a link to the Pavarotti video performance that Grandma and I watch countless numbers of times together.
It occurred to me that this may have been “the” song.
O Sole Mio/Pavarotti
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tLE3yXAqBxc
English Translation to O Sole Mio
When I first saw you with your smile so tender
O Sole Mio/Pavarotti
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tLE3yXAqBxc
English Translation to O Sole Mio
When I first saw you with your smile so tender
my heart was captured, my soul surrendered.
I spent a lifetime waiting for the right time
now that you're near the time is here at last!
It's now or never come hold me tight
It's now or never come hold me tight
kiss me my darling, be mine tonight.
Tomorrow will be too late
it's now or never my love won't wait.
Just like a willow we would cry an ocean
if we lost true love and sweet devotion.
Your lips excite me let your arms invite me,
for who knows when we'll meet again this way.
Postscript:
Here is another favorite performance. In particular, take special note to Jose Carrarras during the last minute of this segment.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DJuPB8VZxuI&mode=related&search=
Postscript:
Here is another favorite performance. In particular, take special note to Jose Carrarras during the last minute of this segment.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DJuPB8VZxuI&mode=related&search=
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Retro-fitted and fun!
With the nickname “Cake” combined with the love of entertaining, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to buy myself one of those retro t-shirts with the famous Hostess cupcake logo. Since becoming a work-at-home mother (WAHM), my collection of hip retro t-shirts seems to be growing. My favorites include the smiling noodle-faced Spagettio t-shirt, the Rubrics Cube t-shirt that says “Pure Genius” and the Beatles t-shirt with Ringo star’s symbolic drum emblem.A pair of blue jeans may seem like the obvious partner to a retro t-shirt. However, this surprisingly was a disappointment. Comfort is key to any WAHM. No matter how stone-cold I washed a pair of jeans, I still found them to be too stiff and scratchy, especially when sitting. Additionally, the sweatpants alternative did cross my mind. However, I was fearful that I would appear either too frumpy, or people would think I didn’t shower after the gym.
So after several experimental outfits, I finally stumbled upon my perfect uniform. I purchased several pairs of black pajama bottoms. They are light and airy enough to wear to sleep, plus have the versatility of daytime usage. They don’t look like gym pants, and they definitely look great with my retro t-shirts. I wear various combinations of this outfit just about everywhere, everyday.
If I want to give the illusion of outfit-effort, all I need to do is to switch from a retro t-shirt to a blouse, and add accessories. Last week I did this with a necklace and sandals, and no one noticed that I was in my pajama bottoms.
Look, I am aware that people have threatened to call makeover reality shows about this. But to me, going retro in the wardrobe department has been one of the glorious benefits of being a WAHM. I no longer have the morning “run in the stocking” crisis. I never have to worry about wearing the same scratchy dress pants again with a different top, hoping that nobody will notice.
For me, each day is “casual Friday”, retro-fitted, fast and fun.
Postscript: FYI: My birthday is coming up....here's a great website :) http://www.choiceshirts.com/
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Zumba!
My upper arms are aching from a senior (50-plus) aerobics class that I crashed this morning. How embarrassing. How presumptuous of me to think it would be easy. I sweat, I ached, I groaned, and I even had trouble balancing myself on one of those giant red balls. Good thing I had the hindsight to bring extra water, because in between belly dancing and the samba, I needed a break. That’s right! This wasn’t a “dancing to the oldies” class at all, but a hip swinging, cha-cha stepping Zumba class with unique moves to the beat of Latin music!
The instructor, Beth, is not only a Zumba expert, but has the tanned and toned body of Brittany Spears. As a snowbird just returning from Florida (I am guessing she’s about 65), I was excited to see her and reconnect. I missed her Zumba class earlier in the week, so we mutually agreed that I could test out her 50-plus Zumba version which was about to start. “No problem” I said. This would be “trozo de tarta”.
So there I was along with six other seniors, feeling for the first time to be the “fittest” one in the group. ¡Qué un cántaro! It was evident that after the warm-up, that I was going to work extra hard to keep up with the others. Plus, I had to relearn the steps like the cumbia, merengue, mambo, rumba, flamenco and caylpso. The music she selected was very motivating, but in order to keep up with the others, I just deleted the upper arms.
Sometimes, you could hear the walls vibrating from a spinning class next door where people closer to my age seem to gravitate faithfully. I’ve been much too intimidated to take this class. Maybe its because everyone looks so serious as they put their towels over their bike as if to claim their territory. Someday I’ll venture in there, but only to see what happens when they turn off the lights.
For now, think I’ll stick with Zumba. Derived from a Columbian word meaning to move fast and have fun, I can only hope that when I turn 50, I’ll still have what it takes to Zumba like the pros at class this morning.
Postscript: For more info on Zumba, go to https://www.zumba.com/index.cfm
The instructor, Beth, is not only a Zumba expert, but has the tanned and toned body of Brittany Spears. As a snowbird just returning from Florida (I am guessing she’s about 65), I was excited to see her and reconnect. I missed her Zumba class earlier in the week, so we mutually agreed that I could test out her 50-plus Zumba version which was about to start. “No problem” I said. This would be “trozo de tarta”.
So there I was along with six other seniors, feeling for the first time to be the “fittest” one in the group. ¡Qué un cántaro! It was evident that after the warm-up, that I was going to work extra hard to keep up with the others. Plus, I had to relearn the steps like the cumbia, merengue, mambo, rumba, flamenco and caylpso. The music she selected was very motivating, but in order to keep up with the others, I just deleted the upper arms.
Sometimes, you could hear the walls vibrating from a spinning class next door where people closer to my age seem to gravitate faithfully. I’ve been much too intimidated to take this class. Maybe its because everyone looks so serious as they put their towels over their bike as if to claim their territory. Someday I’ll venture in there, but only to see what happens when they turn off the lights.
For now, think I’ll stick with Zumba. Derived from a Columbian word meaning to move fast and have fun, I can only hope that when I turn 50, I’ll still have what it takes to Zumba like the pros at class this morning.
Postscript: For more info on Zumba, go to https://www.zumba.com/index.cfm
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Alan and Lexi
"Make new friends but keep the old
one is silver
and the other's gold."
Here is Lexi (15 months) and Alan (2 years/4 months) enjoying a wagon ride to the park.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Alan and Sumner
Saturday we spent the day with Beth and baby Sumner who is 15 months old, almost exactly a year younger than Alan. When Beth and I interned together at Benedictine back in 1996, little would I know that our career paths would coincide for so long, and now we share motherhood together. Back then, I had never even heard of the word “playdate”. We also share a love of children’s books, and went to the Saugerties Library fair together.
These photos were taken in our playroom where Sumner affectionately began hugging Alan who at first was tentative to Sumner’s advances. Yet, as you can see from these photos, Alan warmed up to him, as well as to the camera! Thanks for a great day!
These photos were taken in our playroom where Sumner affectionately began hugging Alan who at first was tentative to Sumner’s advances. Yet, as you can see from these photos, Alan warmed up to him, as well as to the camera! Thanks for a great day!
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