truth and beauty

Lost in Space

2012-02-13T22:35:00.013-05:00

Gorgeous image from groworchidsguide.com.

Another lost day. Figgy came home sick again--third week in a row that I've gotten calls from the nurse's office. This time, stomach upset. Fortunately, H. was able to pick her up. Then tonight I had to dash out to the store to pick up a spray bottle of Woolite Oxy Deep Carpet Stain & Odor Remover. You can fill in the blanks.

I think of myself as a good person, a good mother, but sometimes I lose my patience. Then I catch myself and try to take the high road. Or to stay on it. I am a flawed person. And I didn't like what I saw in the full-length mirror on Fig's wardrobe when I was down on my hands and knees cleaning the white carpet. I saw someone who was lost, still in her black workout pants since morning, messy hair, heavy heart.

The day was lost in other ways, too, like a leftover pasta haze, but found in the way of heating oil...the mail brought checks for both H. and me, for writing assignments....so we were able to put $400 on our debit card toward a delivery [we have a nice phone relationship with Judy at Pierson Oil, who has a big heart, patience and a good listening ear]. Our burner is chugging away. Thank you, fate, and thank you, Judy.

Better days ahead. Good night.

TCOY

Boot camp with Patsy & Co. I didn't lose that! Though almost in anticipation of the lost day still to unfold, my body resisted moving. It was hard to do weights.
Walked Sug around block once.
Mailed a few cute puppy valentines @ the P.O.--reaching out to others with love feels like TCOY. When I lose myself, I can't do that.
At supermarket, bought a beautiful pink orchid for my office. And: picked up and put down butter cookies, chocolate sandwich cookies and Godiva chocolate box.
Got fresh green beans to steam. Didn't do it. But picking out handfuls, paying for them and bringing them home counts, right? Hope to make tomorrow. Tonight it was easier to spoon into a cup of store-made creamy clam chowder and tear at a loaf of semolina bread [with butter].
With Fig lying on couch, we caught up on a Desperate Housewives episode and best of all, last night's Pan Am.

Snuggling up to Read

2012-02-12T21:28:00.010-05:00

It's cold out, and the oil gauge on our basement tank is down to "E," but it's snug in here and there's enough to keep us warm until we can pay for another delivery. I didn't finish 70 pages of the book-group book, so about to curl up and sink in.

Our first meeting was good. Elly made a lovely Israeli milk pudding [malabi], chilled in delicate little stemmed goblets and glasses. She sprinkled the top of the creamy puddings with coconut and chopped pistachios, and carried the whole sweet army of them to the coffee table on a big hostess tray with silver spoons.

And while the malabi went down smooth and easy, like nursery food, the talking was a comfort, too. I really enjoyed laughing with and learning from Julie, Anne, another Anne, Elly, Jeanne, Karen and Barbara between sipping wine and eating falafel.

Grateful for the women in my life.

TCOY

Mass. Time to contemplate.
Baked--complicated recipe for today's book group theme, but it was therapeutic, the measuring, stirring, whipping, folding, melting and glazing. Chocolate cake sliced into two slim layers, cherry jam, cinnamon-scented whipped cream, and dark, shiny glaze flavored with chai-simmered cream. Lots of steps. Step by careful step to a beautiful cake. Can same principle apply to a beautiful life? Complicated, a lot of work?
Seeing my friends.

In Search of a Book Group Dessert

2012-02-11T23:51:00.012-05:00

Our group's first meeting is tomorrow @ 5:30 P.M.

I belonged to a book group here in Montclair for years--six women, we were, mothers all. [One of us, Julie, became a mother for the first time in the course of our book group, and we even had a small baby shower/meeting one Sunday, for which I made carrot cupcakes with fluffy cream-cheese frosting. Figuring that carrots would be good for baby and mom.]

The group eventually dissolved, but now a new one is forming [a group of 10 women, including Julie, whose first baby is in second grade and was followed by a little brother], and our first book is American Dervish, pictured. I haven't quite finished it, but am finding it interesting, the story of a Muslim boy growing up in the Midwest. Since Figgy is in Boston this weekend with her uncle and cousin, I have uninterrupted reading time--hope to finish by tomorrow. Detailed references to the Quran and its messages are eye-opening for me. I've never read that holy book [and I call it that with due respect].

I also have to make a dessert. We try to do foods that go with the book's theme. Anne usually makes a cocktail that fits in, too. I was glad when I came to page 61, which describes the tea that the young man's Pakistani Auntie, Mina, makes. It's steeped with cardamom, cinnamon, clove and ginger and stirred with whole milk and this is of course the recipe for chai tea. So I searched epicurious.com for chai desserts, and up popped a chocolate cake with a cinnamon-cream filling and chai-flavored dark chocolate glaze. I hope to make it tomorrow, if the stars are in their courses.

Good night.

TCOY

Went to Joe's 8 A.M. yoga class with my friend Diane. I really like what Joe has to say, though the poses felt hard for me today. My body was resisting, and tired.
Went to the Cozy End, a diner in town, to take out dinner. Passed up the chicken and bacon club sandwich with fries, which is very good there, and appealing on a gray, wintry day. Got the grilled chicken breast broiled with blue cheese and served with steamed broccoli. Yum.
Curled up and read.
Talked to Sis.
Had a cuppa chai tea [from a Twinings chai teabag, much quicker than Auntie Mina's way].

Change Hurts

2012-02-10T21:33:00.002-05:00

Going through some pain. Can't say much in this public space. Such is the nature of the blogging beast.

If things don't change, they stay the same. But does a rose hurt when its petals unfurl from that tight little bud? Does a tulip plant find it difficult to poke through winter-hard soil? Plants don't have feelings. People do.

Good night.

TCOY

Boot camp in the park. Eric, Rebecca and Michael really crack me up. And Patsy inspires me to be my best.
Walked Sug around block once.
Chicken salad.
Ice water.

Pink Cupcake Press Party!!!

2012-02-10T00:12:00.019-05:00

The story is really sweet--about how the sisters learned to bake from their Greek grandmother.

Well, there are press events and then there are press events. The one tonight in SoHo was completely awesome, a spun-sugar fairy tale with Moët champagne, chic pink dresses and a full house. The email invite said:

you are invited to a

champagne & cupcake dessert reception

celebrating the grand opening of

GEORGETOWN CUPCAKE

soho

111 mercer street

(between spring & prince)

thursday, feb. 9th

6 pm - 9 pm

As a food & lifestyle writer, trend watcher and blogger, I RSVPed yes, yes! to the PR firm, New York-based TLCommunications. They kindly let me bring Figgy, too. [Turns out there were also other younger daughters there--in pretty little dresses and hairbands.]

Here's what I loved about this press event:

A cupcake follower, I've read about Georgetown Cupcake for years, studied the website, wished they were closer. And now they are.
The event, and the sweet shop, are in SoHo! Which means we passed hip boutiques like Marni, Marc Jacobs and Agent Provocateur on our short walk from the car to the shop--free spot after 6 P.M. right on Mercer! Fig and I love drinking in style, even if at this hour, it was only window-shopping. [After a long wait at Fig's doctor's office, we didn't arrive until 7:45.]
The famous sisters, Katherine Kallinis and Sophie Kallinis LaMontagne [stars of TLC series "DC Cupcakes"], were there--even their Mom was! Each sister came up to me and Figgy and was warm and charming. Best of all, both were dressed in gorgeous hot pink frothy dresses [one with blocks of beige, one all pink] that were beyond the beyond, so right for this night. Somehow, Figgy too had chosen something cupcake-like--a floor-grazing pink chiffon skirt with rose-strewn sweater, black leather jacket and sparkly pink infinity scarf. On the drive home, we marveled at how much we loved those dresses, and agreed that the sisters were really nice. Katherine had on candy-colored pink pumps; Sophie had beige ones. Both sisters sported beautiful diamonds on their ring fingers. Everything was just so party-pink and happy. Can't lie, very welcome antidote to some dark times for our family [and VERY bad hair day for me].
The cupcakes! Not just the opulent tiered platters [for looking/drooling] but also the baby cupcakes passed by waiters: Peanut Butter Fudge, Red Velvet, Cookies & Crème and Salted Caramel. They were lovely fairy-sized treats.
The parting gift. Over the last 29 years, I've been to press events and openings of every stripe, from a Stephen Sprouse fashion party at Area in the 1980s to a guided tour [for fragrance lovers] of Estée Lauder's beautiful office by her stylish granddaughter and company exec, Aerin Lauder. I've lunched at the Four Seasons and toured Ralph Lauren's showroom to see the new home furnishings collection, leaving with a petite cream velvet pillow. A parting gift is a memory you never forget, but tonight's was so generous. Figgy and I each received a beribboned pink box of six cupcakes, a special NY collection decked with toppers like a green 6 subway logo and a tiny red apple shape. I also received a bag brimming with the sisters' pink cookbook, The Cupcake Diaries, a travel coffee mug, a regular mug with an adorable cupcake theme, a pink gift card for a dozen cupcakes and a pink daily cupcake menu. It doesn't get any sweeter than this. And I mention all this not to gloat but also to illustrate, from a marketing perspective, how every pink detail dovetailed into the overall branding message.
The excuse to drive into glittery NYC with my Figgy. On the way home, we saw Downing Street in the Village, where Dad's parents, Italian immigrants, had their three sons. I turned left and drove slowly down the narrow, quiet street until we saw the horse's head Dad never forgot, mounted up high on the building that was a stable when he, Aldo and Anthony were boys. There it is, I said to Figgy. Look at it. Your grandfather loved animals, and he grew up seeing that. He always talked about it and remembered it.

Drifting to sleep on a pillow of sweet dreams. Good night.

TCOY

Lunch and heart-to-heart talk with friend Elly.
Walked Sug around block once.

Think Before You Chew

2012-02-08T22:49:00.005-05:00

Fascinating article by Jeff Gordinier in today's New York Times Dining section about mindful eating. I tried to remember it when I ate two peanut-butter cookies in the car today. They were small.

I loved this wisdom from Dr. Jan Chozen Bays, pediatrician, author and meditation teacher in Oregon:

Sometimes, even she is too busy to contemplate a chickpea. So there are days when Dr. Bays will take three mindful sips of tea, "and then, O.K., I've got to go do my work," she said. "Anybody can do that. Anywhere."

Even scarfing down a burrito in the car offers an opportunity for insight. "Mindful eating includes mindless eating," she said. "I am aware that I am eating and driving."

Wow. What a great piece of journalism, and what a great philosophy for life. I guess maybe I better not mention that A. I'm planning to check out the new SoHo post of Georgetown Cupcake this week and B. Tonight I bought the ingredients to make the Dark Chocolate-Cherry Ganache Bars for my valentines. [I adore the title: Plain-Jane Cookie Dolls It Up for Valentine's Day. Brilliant.] Melissa Clark's recipe was on page 2, the cupcakes shown on page 5--both sharing space with Mindful Eating. What can I say.

Life is all about balance, right? Good night.

TCOY

Private Benjamin. Tough stuff, won't lie.
Made healthy dinner, and that felt good. Have been failing on this count once too often.
Walked Sug around block as snow fell.
About to have a small bowl of plain yogurt with handful of blueberries and a little granola. Touchdown!

Goal: Long walk tomorrow. And another bowl of yogurt. And a turkey sandwich on whole-wheat.

Expanding My Vocabulary

2012-02-07T23:56:00.001-05:00

Writing about multimillion-dollar estates in towns like Alpine, NJ--where stars like Eddie Murphy and Britney Spears have plunked down money over the years for their own "golden" house keys--has taught me a lot of new words over the past couple years. Such as:

Koi pond
Fossilized stone
Terrazzo pool
Gunite pool
Onyx [not the jewel stone I've seen in a ring]
Silver drawers [21 enchanting drawers built into pretty dining room wall for your silver service]

It's actually kind of enriching to know and understand how other people handpick and appreciate the finer things in life. It's educational. I feel more cultured. Good night.

TCOY

Read.
Paid bill; felt good.
Pedaled pink bike to Private Benjamin appointment. Both the pedaling and the appt. were good TCOY.
Walked Sug around block once.
Made soup with handfuls of fresh spinach.

TCOY goal: Have a bowl of plain yogurt with banana or apple and walnuts for a snack tomorrow! You eat too much junk food, not enough healthy stuff! Give yourself a fair chance!

World's Greatest Inventions

2012-02-06T22:59:00.005-05:00

Awesome image from shefinds.com.

Antibiotics.
Sliced bread.
Toasters.
Burberry scarves.
Automatic dishwasher detergent capsules.
Homemade hot fudge sauce from Baking with Julia. [It's technically called Bittersweet Chocolate Sauce, the recipe is from baker Marcel Desaulniers, and I do wish I had a little glass jarful and a scoop of Adirondack Creamery Coffee Bean Ice Cream right about now.]
Helpful websites for worried people.
FedEx.
Lattes.
Laptops.
Swim diapers.
Woolite.
Online fashion shopping, with coupon codes and free shipping offers.

What's on your list? Help me out, 13 is an unlucky number ;) Good night.

TCOY

Boot camp in the park, pretty sunny day.
Walked Puffball around block once.
Productive work and productive work meeting.
Noticed perfect moon when I helped Figgy take recycling bins to curb for Tuesday morning pickup.

Walking in the Park One Day

2012-02-05T23:17:00.021-05:00

Nothin much to report except that A. Stephen Colbert was dipping his finger into the holy water after Mass just before I was [I was too shy to catch his eye and make him feel watched at church] and B. H. and I took Punch to Central Park today while Figgy worked at Speakeasy Vintage.

We parked for free on Madison Avenue near 66th Street and walked over to the Central Park Zoo. No dogs allowed, so I volunteered to wait outside with Sug--plus, it was thriftier. I didn't feel too left out. You get a good view of the sleek wet sea lions at 4 P.M. feeding time from outside the zoo gate--the trainers reward them with little silver fish for every trick--and Sug and I also had a chance to walk around and observe. I got a small paper packet of hot cashews, studied the Honey Bear statue that someone endowed to the park and read the plaques on the benches, so sweet and touching, wishes from parents to kids, grandparents to grandchildren, husbands to wives, friends to friends. I liked the Delacorte Musical Clock, though there's a sign saying it's being repaired; not sure what it's like in full working order, but music joyously marked the time at 4:30. [Just checked the link--the animals move when the clock is working right. Wish I'd seen that! Another time.]

Then we walked over to the park playground @ 72nd Street and Fifth Avenue, and again no pets allowed, so Sug and I explored outside the gate. It got cold, but I liked watching the passersby, especially one couple with a baby and a young child. I saw them for a fast 60 seconds tops as they glided by, but they made a lasting impression. The mom was wearing a beautiful trim black Burberry jacket and high-heeled black booties. A lavender Bergdorf Goodman paper shopping bag swung from the stroller handle, which was pushed by dad. I think what I liked is that the mom hadn't lost herself and her style in the throes of motherhood. I can't tell you how many times, even though I had only Figgy, that I would be throwing my clothes on at the last minute and feeling unkempt. I also liked seeing an older woman with long blonde hair, blue jeans and a camel coat belted at the waist, heading home with a grocery bag from Whole Foods. And the little children who ran up to ask if they could pet Sug. And the handsome young men walking alone and the group of prep-school kids traveling the path in the last rays of light before the sun dipped down.

Grass Is Always Greener

Raising kids near Central Park must be very nice, between the zoo and the pond and the green lawns and Bethesda Fountain and all of those old-fashioned benches. Not to mention how lovely it would be to live in a building with a view of the park.

When we walked back to our car, Punch and I studied the clothing in the Madison Avenue windows of Gucci, Oscar de la Renta, Michael Kors and other boutiques. Figgy would love that, I said about a floor-length floral dress with a cozy little sweater over it. And look, Alice, Figgy would love that, said Punch, at every window we passed after that, pausing to point at a short orange dress, an evening gown with golden gossamer threads, even the Cartier store, where the display was emptied of its precious jewels but still had some pure white risers and ivory petaled flowers.

Back home, Swiss cheese sandwiches, Mexican dip that Punch helped assemble, homemade guacamole and the Super Bowl. Go Giants. But being a true Cape Codder at heart, I do feel bad that the Patriots lost.

Good night.

TCOY

Mass. I usually sleep late and go @ noon, but today I went @ 10:30. Really liked hearing the choir sing a nice old spiritual.
Went to Montclair Art Museum to drop off Figgy's photo contest entry and realized I want to go soak in some art soon! Then stopped at Speakeasy to bring a jar I'd happily filled with my own mix of Go Giants candy [blue and white theme: Baci, Lindt dark chocolate truffles, blue lollipop, white lollipop, blue-foil-wrapped Dove chocolates] to Figgy and her boss, Johnny, since they were working on Super Bowl Sunday. Really enjoyed being there amidst the flapper dresses, the pocketbooks, the beautifully lined coats.
A little exercise and fresh air in my beloved NYC.
Hugs given to and received from Punch and later, Nikki.
Writing right here, right now on this blog. It feels good to process thoughts, reflect on them and record them.
Emotionally, I owned what I need to own, not what belongs to others. [I know that's cryptic--sorry.]

Another Saturday Night with H. Working

2012-02-04T23:24:00.004-05:00

I can't complain about H. writing stories at parties on weekends--thank God he gets booked for this, because it supplements our income as at-home freelance writers. He left around 5:30 for NYC with his bow tie, spectator shoes, manual typewriter and a fresh mozzarella sandwich I made in the kitchen. He should be home in 25 minutes. He just called to say he was about to enter the Lincoln Tunnel.

Meanwhile, Fig and I walked into town and ate at the Thai/Japanese fusion restaurant on Valley Road. It was nice to take a walk and have spicy Thai food and green tea. Didn't feel like standing at stove and making soup or pasta again.

Miss Sis--she's been on a jazz cruise to the islands with Don for over a week now, and I'm used to talking to her just about daily. She just texted, though: Wish u were here. I'm so glad they're getting a sunny break.

Good night.

TCOY

Went to yoga class with my friend Diane--packed house, teacher wonderful Joe.
Caught up on phone with my cousin Lin.
Scrubbed tub to a sparkle so bubble baths will feel good. Plus, it's just a productive thing to do.
Washed face with Noxzema. Soothing, and transports me back to girlhood, when things were simpler--at least from this vantage point.
Watched "Eat Pray Love" on TV [Encore channel] and liked it. Somehow couldn't get into book when I tried way back.
The walk to town and back with Figgy.
Ice water.
Read!

Humming Along

2012-02-03T23:48:00.007-05:00

Have I mentioned how much fun it can be to write?

The magazine assignment I'm doing now has seven copy blocks, each with a targeted word count of 80 to 100. It's like a puzzle, and it's a can-do feeling when you find a way to say things clearly and colorfully in tight quarters. When you nail it, cutting through the extra clutter of words, streamlining the sentences, leaving the flabby casualties by the wayside...by clicking the delete key.

Then have to write a story tomorrow about a fancy mansion, with professional tennis court, expansive guest wing and amazing two-sided fireplace [so you can see a hearth from two rooms]. Pretty cool. The owners raised their three [now grown] children there--each of their bedrooms has its own big bathroom, and the home boasts many other glamorous baths on top of those. So different from our cozy little 1920s house, with one bathroom total--we three have to jockey for position in line. But that's okay.

Good night.

TCOY

Boot camp in the soccer dome. Today we paired off and boxed!
Walked Sug around block twice.
Tackled big job of contacting insurance company regarding huge medical expenses that went uncovered. Grateful to have faced the music, started a new folder and plunged in. Had felt very overwhelming. Information is power. There are ways to wage a formal appeal. As freelancers, H. and I pay over $12,000 annually for our pared-down family medical coverage. You better believe we'll be waging an appeal. Bring it on, big shots.
Read, short nap.
A lot of veggies [lettuce, tomato, green peppers, onions] on Subway 6-inch sandwich.
Going to bed to get up for 8 A.M. yoga class with my friend.

Dream Roll: Figgy's Life in Dark Danger

2012-02-02T12:40:00.025-05:00

Set alarm for 4:45 to register H. and me for the Spring Lake Five Mile Run on Memorial Day Weekend. It's a race [or walk/run, which appeals to me] along the boardwalk by the sea. Patsy and Andy love it, and Patsy sent the link to sign up. Early registration day ended yesterday, with 7,000 people. We were closed out. Today there were 3,000 more slots, open at 5 A.M. It's that popular. We got in!

So then I trolled the internet for two hours while H., Fig, Sug and my world snoozed--I read more about the run, surfed chocolate cake recipes, which brought me to Amanda Hesser's Food52 site [I know, I know, chocolate cake and five-mile run don't mix], which led to a google image search of her and her New Yorker writer husband, Tad Friend, which ultimately landed me at Amazon with a book I really want to read that he wrote.

Nightmare

Finally back to bed--I'd only slept about four hours. Had a very troubling dream. H. and I were in NYC at a hotel with Figgy, and our friends and their kids were there, too. We had to go to a dinner that evening and Figgy, we figured, was with her friends, and anyway, she loves NYC and knows it pretty well, so we didn't have to worry.

Turns out we did. I later saw her emerge from a noisy second-floor apartment from which a woman in black lingerie with garter belt was hanging out the window and telling me Don't worry, everything's okay. I just have a party like this every Friday after working so hard all week. When she said that, I hadn't known Figgy had been there, and I just nodded and smiled, because I can be very accepting.

But it later came out that there were many vials of blood in the room behind that open window, and a report on the TV news back in the hotel said something bad had been happening, this group had been taking people's blood in some bizarre party game, and Figgy, alone, had wandered onto the scene and in her innocence, been lured in. She came back to our hotel room with some blood transfusion thing attached to her arm vein, and there was a real risk that she had gotten Hepatitis C, which could kill her. The transfusion thing was pumping blood in and out of her arm.

She also said she had had sex with some weird older guy at the party [he showed up at the hotel, too] and that she had had sex [unprotected] many times before and done drugs and all kinds of things that were a complete surprise to us.

Moey was in the dream, trying to help. I really wish this was a nightmare and I'd just wake up, I said to her. But it wasn't. It was real. And I was terrified. My daughter was hating me, scorning me and at great health risk to boot.

And then it was a nightmare--thank God, I woke up in our bedroom, white Shabby Chic curtains from Target on the windows, H. in his office on the other side of the wall, working.

Where's Figgy? Is Figgy okay? I asked. Yes. She had fallen asleep on the living room couch, exhausted from her stomach flu.

I told her about the nightmare, and how glad I was that it wasn't real. Then I caught myself. I've had enough problems squaring off sex with my religious background. So I didn't want Figgy to think that her being sexual would be a nightmare for me.

I don't mean that having sex would be a terrible thing, I said. But in the dream, you were having sex with a lot of people and it was unprotected.

I did my best, probably fumbled. Because when is a mother really ready to accept a daughter's sexuality? Lord knows we daughters have a lot of sifting to do of mixed messages about our beauty, sexuality and intelligence--and the messages from our parents are the ones that mean the most and last the longest, whether we work with them or against them.

I'm just so glad our Figgy is OK.

TCOY

Ummm,....really have to reach to list anything here today. I only walked the Little Dust Mop a few feet, not even around the block. I was lazy and it was cold. Figgy was home sick and I stayed in, too. But signing H. and me up for the 5-Mile Run is definitely a step in the TCOY direction. Really excited about it.
Read, and took long nap.
Work feeling good, and productive.
Sat down to have snack/lunch rather than eat standing at counter, remembering blogger friend Nan, who has also pledged to sit down while eating.
Made nice chicken cutlets with spinach salad.
In CVS, picked up and put down bag of Peepsters, a new temptation. I don't like Peeps, but these are marshmallow creme dipped in dark chocolate. Have been trying to remember that things with long, complicated ingredient lists are artificial and not very healthy. That helps.

Article Archive: Check My New Pieces in Asp1re Magazine

2012-02-01T21:18:00.004-05:00

Visit the Asp1re Magazine website to thumb through the virtual edition of the February 2012 issue--click on the magazine cover to open it. On page 21: Big Love, the story I wrote about a widow and widower who met and found happily ever after--then combined their households into one beautiful love nest.

And on page 52 and below, the very expansive Saddle River, NJ estate of a best-selling author:
http://aspirenj.com/luxury-homes/red-rock-peace-paradise.
My favorite parts: the spa, the curving windows off the kitchen, the gorgeous fireplace near the entry, the home offices and the decks.

Good night.

TCOY

Boot camp in the park--weather so mild. Fun to work out with my friends there.
Walked Fluff around block once.
Read as break from work and Fig being home sick from school with stomach flu.
Bubble bath, and good tooth care.
Private Benjamin with H.

Rays of Light

2012-01-31T21:40:00.003-05:00

Grateful for good things. Sleep tight.

TCOY

Long walk in NYC from Port Authority [40th Street and Eighth Avenue] to Lantern, Thai restaurant on 18th Street and Second Avenue, to meet my friend Celia. So good to see her. It was a gorgeous, invigorating day to be at the foot of Manhattan's soaring skyscrapers, and after we ate, we walked over to Chelsea Market @ Ninth Avenue and 15th Street. I bought half and half in a glass bottle from Ronnybrook Milk Bar there. Old-fashioned fun.
Loving the Mary Cantwell book.
Straight talk to someone I love--though not sure it helped. Jury still out.
Private Benjamin.
Walked Sug around block once.

Hair

2012-01-30T21:59:00.014-05:00

I entered Rita Hazan* salon on 56th Street at Fifth Avenue at 4:30 with my hair pulled away from my face and anchored on top with a humble bobby pin. I left at 5:40 with a soft and glamorous do, rendered at the hands of Myrna.

I was invited to a press event--the idea was that we would try out Linkage Meu, a 3-step post-shampoo salon treatment that delivers silky, smooth, shiny, strong, healthy, moisturized and pliable hair, according to the brochure. The regimen is the beauty brainchild of Milbon, maker of top Japanese hair products. And after the treatment, we each got an impeccable blow-dry. In the chair, we were offered drinks and savory button-sized nibbles. like chicken salad in a tiny crunchy cup, and little cones of salmon mousse.

My hair feels soft, yet bouncy and sexy. I'm not imagining it. I feel like I've got someone else's hair. A lucky someone else. And there's also a fourth step, a conditioning treatment we took home in four pretty, petite turquoise vials--use one per week after shampooing to maintain the silky texture.

I've inquired about how much the process will cost in the salon, and should have an answer tomorrow. [Here's the answer as of 1.31: The service price ranges from $45-$125, depending on location, service time, and service style (luxurious with head massage, or quick at sink). Available in salons across the country.]

Things are still rough around here, but at least my hair is smooth. And I hope a good night's sleep, starting now, will mean the road's less frazzled for everyone tomorrow.

Good night.

TCOY

Boot camp in the dome.
Walked Fluff around block once.
Went to Montclair traffic violation bureau and then DMV--they had suspended my driver's license for not paying tickets that I did pay, back in November. Good news: I didn't have to pay $100 fee to reinstate it.
Cooked scallops with spinach for dinner.

*Rita Hazan=celebrity colorist. Her bio says she's done Jennifer Lopez's hair.

.

Sugary Antidote to Stress

2012-01-30T11:39:00.002-05:00

My fluff ball in my home office just now.

Sug.

She likes to rest on my neoprene Lilly Pulitzer laptop bag on my little wicker couch here in my sunroom office. I just took her around the block [which includes an uphill] when I got back from boot camp. I try to take her around the block whenever I come in from somewhere--before I take my coat off, I put hers on and out we go.

On that walk, she met Duke, a male Bichon Frise one year her senior. Being the runt of her litter--so much smaller than Duke--she gave him a run for his money with good barking. He just looked at her, matter-of-fact and dignified. She stood there in her red fleece plaid coat acting 10 times her size. She weighs under 10 pounds and fits nicely in the crook of your arm or on your lap.

I think there's a lesson to be learned. Sugar can act fearless, even though she's really scared inside. And though this brave bark has gotten her bitten once, it hasn't stopped her from thinking big, and acting as though the world exists for her to explore and prance proudly through--and that the bones buried in every yard, the apples on every tree in life, are hers for the taking.

Cranky

2012-01-29T21:27:00.003-05:00

Some people bother me so much. They disappoint me. I try valiantly to be and do my best but it's exhausting in the face of their difficulty. And I can't fix their problems. Still, they weigh me down. I'm not perfect, I know that, but their imperfections drag me down.

Good night.

TCOY

Biked to Mass.
Napped, read.
Walked Sug twice with H., once under pretty stars.
Caught up with laundry.
H. got ingredients and I cooked healthy supper--soup with white beans, spinach, fresh sage, hot turkey sausage [for me and Fig] and veggie sausage [in H.'s]. It was really good. Served with whole-wheat sourdough bread.

I'll Drink to That

2012-01-29T00:43:00.010-05:00

Tall glass water bottle with snug lid--Day 1, loving it.

Popped into Go Lightly, the Montclair store known for vegan ice cream, adorable organic cotton baby leggings and a social conscience. This Kerplunk water bottle caught my eye. It's so sturdy and uplifting--so pretty. I love it. I'm glad you like it, the nice young woman with braids said when I paid for it. I hope it helps you drink more water.

And speaking of drinks in Montclair, my friend Anne took me out to Halcyon on Walnut Street tonight for a birthday beverage in the upstairs lounge. I had my winter favorite, an Irish coffee; Anne had a cosmopolitan. Mine went down nice and warm, especially after I stirred in a tiny pitcher of cream. Then I realized I sipped the glass mugful a bit too fast--had some trouble getting my sponge-tip applicator into the lip gloss tube, needed a little grounding, so we got something to eat, too. I had the tacos with filet mignon. Crunchy shells, tender beef, zingy flavor.

But most of all, it was good to sit with my friend and talk. I am grateful for her, for standing by me and with me through painful times and sweet ones. I am lucky to have a friend like Anne. She has a nice husband [who is also my friend], three kids, a dog, a cat, a job, a post as co-president of a busy PTA, and she still finds time for me. Sometimes I truly think that signing on to be my friend requires a lot of stamina to withstand dramatic winds. I am grateful. [Anne is also my Cape Cod- and Hot Chocolate Sparrow-loving friend, who has been known to drive 600 miles round trip to North Eastham to stay just two nights. Birds of a feather.]

Good night.

TCOY

Walked Sug around block twice.
Reading excellent memoir trilogy by Mary Cantwell--starting with American Girl. I love Mary Cantwell's writing, and Sis and Don gave me this three-in-one book for my birthday. It's Mary Cantwell who inspired me to come up with a colorful pseudonym in this blog for my daughter [Figgy]. The author called her two daughters Rose Red and Snow White in her wonderful writing. I sent her a fan letter years ago when she was working at The New York Times, and she wrote me a very nice letter back.
Cooked dinner, ate some veggies.
Drank lots of ice water; the young woman with braids was right [see above].
Listened to good music and sang along--in my car [WFUV, 90.7 FM] and in my office [Verve Remixed CD, absolutely awesome].

Bargain Hunting @ Bendel's & Bergdorf's

2012-01-27T23:16:00.032-05:00

I admired these in November for $65. Now they were 70 percent off.

What fun. Went into my favorite fashion playground to stroll and drink from the fountain of style. New York, New York. Can't jet to Paris or Milan right now, but can hop on the DeCamp bus to NYC, crown jewel of everything colorful and chic. [One-way bus ticket: $7.40. Keeps going up, but still nice to sink into bus seat and let someone else do the driving.]

First I met Donna and Kathleen--we worked together for years at Good Housekeeping, and now they've worked for years at the fashion bible InStyle. We met at Le Pain Quotidien in the Time-Life Building. It was so good to catch up, and sip a cappuccino and nosh on prosciutto, melon, creamy ricotta and good bread. I've missed seeing D. and K.

Then I walked over to Henri Bendel, where I bought a box of 12 Ooh-La-La-Oreo Cookies, a holiday treat marked down to 75 percent off the original $28. They were dipped in milk chocolate and individually wrapped in pretty jewel-toned foil; lucky I got a pack, since this evening, Figgy and five friends were here and now the Oreos are gone. Searched lower-level sales section...nothing caught my eye except a beautiful slim black hairband with Chanel-style yellow rose for Figgy, but even at half off, it would have been nearly $28.

On to Bergdorf Goodman. Flipped longingly through the racks of Milly and Tory clothes on 5--also loved a Milly floral tote that was close to $300. Scanned the shoe sale, and though 50 percent off, still out of my budget and not right for what I need now. Then the 7th floor--to peruse the holiday alcove, 75% off....got cool Verve Remixed Christmas CD [Louis Armstrong, Count Basie, Billie Holiday and others] for $5. And the chocolate and tea alcove, for Vosges Couture Cocoa Petites [a sampler of La Parisienne, Bianca and Aztec Elixir]....can't wait to have a cup tomorrow. Looked at gorgeous Diptyque and Ladurée [Paris] candles, antique silver, fancy towels, even $8,000 wedding gowns [caught from corner of my eye as prospective bride inquired about one in exquisite jewel-box salon]. Then descent on a succession of narrow escalators to the lower Beauty Level--to whisk by Trish McEvoy and Bobbi Brown counters, drink in the lovely Annick Goutal fragrance nook, the hair accessories and finally, the cozy, carefully edited Wolford stash room, where I snagged a pair of $65 Wilderness tights [latest animal print], down 70 percent to $19.

I love New York. I left on the 10:44 A.M. bus and was back home by 5:40. Seven hours total, but feels like I went somewhere really far away. Oh, and one more sweet thing--H. is working in Chicago, and called to tell me today is National Chocolate Cake Day!!!!!!! So got two little chocolate mousse cakes @ Whole Foods tonight--one to leave on doorstep for my friends Anne and Emily, one for us. Chocolate cake is to be celebrated. Figgy and friends liked it, too.

TCOY

Had to miss boot camp to catch bus on time, but walked at least one hour in NYC.
Capp vs. mocha at Le Pain Q--they had calories posted on the board, and that helped me decide to save some.
Went by myself to see "My Week with Marilyn" @ movies. Have been dying to see it. Very good.

May the Force Be with You: The Power of Magazine Cover Lines

2012-01-26T21:49:00.005-05:00

Editors spend a long time crafting cover lines that make you buy an issue.

Although I write often for GH, I don't have a subscription and should probably get one. I receive copies of the issues I have articles in, and the rest of the time, I just buy the ones I absolutely can't resist at the checkout line in Kings, my local grocery store.

I couldn't pass up the February issue [above]--promptly paid $3.49 for my reading pleasure. The cover lines that grabbed me:

Chocolate Heaven: 11 Desserts You'll Love [photography, styling and recipes are awesome --as is the story title, Dark Victory. Wow, what an enviably perfect title.]
4 Haircuts that take off years
Best Products of 2012
Jennifer Hudson 80 lbs. Lighter! How she did it: family, faith--and her secret fat-fighting snack

As a magazine lover, I'd really like to hear about magazines you can't resist at grocery stores, airports and newsstands--ones with cover lines that grab you. What are they? My weak spots also include Vogue, Allure, Fine Cooking and Eating Well.

Well, made Giada's chicken cutlets, steamed asparagus and baked four little cocoa cakes [three to give friends, one to keep] topped with the nice dark chocolate-peanut butter frosting from the Chocolate-Peanut Pavé cake recipe in this GH issue. And now I have a mountain of dishes and bowls. TCOY: Stared down pretzels and tortilla chips in store. Got salon blowout. Good night.

X Marks the Spot

2012-01-25T22:04:00.002-05:00

A strong, steady, even X for the positive things I did today rather than fall apart in the face of insurmountable odds:

X Boot camp in the park! Lots of sprints across width of football field, and runs up stadium steps.
X Walked fluff ball on longish walk near hobbit house and later around block, too.
X Sent out another resume.
X 4 P.M., showered, shampooed and put on pink as a I promised myself in blog post last night--pink silk Coach neckerchief with navy-blue tank. I think it did lift my spirits and possibly also those of the people around me.
X Cup of hot tea around 4:30ish [influenced by friend/tea lover Kim].
X Worked on assignment.
X Healthy dinner--veggie burger on whole-wheat bun, fresh spinach salad, pickle. I swear that putting on the pink, etc. propelled me from one positive thing to the next.
X Small portion of good dark chocolate [and it's so midnight dark, that I wouldn't want to eat too much of it anyway].
X Wrote seven long overdue notes to friends. Feels good. Ready to go to P.O. tomorrow.

Good night and winging best wishes your way.

The Good, the Bad & the Ugly

2012-01-24T23:42:00.016-05:00

Good

Information. Information is power. At least I'm telling myself that--but I think it's true. Even when it's scary and you wish to God you never had to face it, if a problem or danger exists, I suppose it's better to know than to stumble along in total dark. I guess it gives you the chance to help. If it doesn't totally deflate you first. How can a sailboat go forth, especially in choppy waters, with no wind in its sails?
Ovaltine in milk.
A dog who adores me.
Dishwasher humming.
Knowledge that I am not alone. We are not alone.
President Obama's State of the Union address. I liked what he said, and was happy to welcome him, Michelle, Joe and Jill Biden, Hillary Clinton, Leon Panetta, Nancy Pelosi, the Supreme Court justices, chiefs of staff and others into my living room tonight. I also liked seeing what they were wearing. Noticed lots of pinks and fuchsias on the women in the crowd, probably to lift spirits. I plan to wear some pink tomorrow.

Bad

Information. Information can be devastating. Especially when it's scary and you wish to God you never had to face it. Maybe it would be better to not know and stumble along in total dark. Because can you really help?
No exercise today, not a drop.

Ugly

Had to tour a $6.9 million Bergen County estate at 11 A.M. today with owner, so I can write about it for a magazine, and I was having a very unfortunate hair and beauty day [see Bad, 1.]. The homeowner's hair and makeup were flawless, from jet-black eyeliner to fuchsia lipstick--and the home's beauty was breathtaking, too, from bamboo floors to spotless jewel-box powder room. I tried not to look when we passed the many mirrors.
Very pedestrian diner burger and fries, eaten by myself next to a Dad and grown daughter who were out to lunch, just like Dad and I often were in New Jersey diners after his doctor's appointments. Missed him. Cherry on top: As I chowed down on burger deluxe, she had peppermint tea and salad with pita toast points, and he had egg whites scrambled with lox [No potatoes, the Dad said to the waitress.] Also ugly: The people who seated me were unfriendly. Usually the people who show you to your diner table and give you a menu can muster up a smile. This man didn't crack a grin, and the woman with the menu was positively icy. Baffling. I guess what can you expect when part of your job is spraying plastic-coated menus with Windex to keep them clean--as the woman was doing at the counter when I left.
Stopped in thrift shop and it smelled depressing, like a forgotten old person's home, and the items were depressing, too. No treasures, just discards, remnants of lives gone by. A camel overcoat with a lining that was hand mended near the collar, dresses and glittery tops that once went to a wedding. Too sad to bear on a day like this.
Oreos, though threw package out pretty promptly before too much damage done.
Stress, strain, fear. Panic. Stark realities. Anxiety. Anger. Frustration. Worry. Fruitlessness, hopelessness. Helpless, powerless. Impatient. Fed up. Annoyed. Overwhelmed. Terrified. Watchful. Regretful. Resigned. Trying hard to see clearly.
And broken, jagged fingernails, on top of it all, as if the rest of this list isn't enough. Grrr.

Big Feet, Big Dreams

2012-01-23T21:21:00.010-05:00

Bore in store? I've blogged about this before. But I think it's worth repeating.

In college, I did an internship one or two afternoons a week at the local branch of the American Heart Association, writing press releases in the small upstairs room of an old Highland Park house. Before graduation, two of my supervisors took me out to lunch at the brand-new Hyatt Regency in New Brunswick. One of the women asked me what my plans were after graduation.

I want to work at a magazine.

Which one?

I don't know, one of the women's magazines in New York.

You can't start there. You'll never be able to get a job at one of the big magazines right away. You'll have to start smaller and get experience first, at somewhere like New Jersey Monthly.

I don't know what I said, but I know what I thought. Those were fighting words. What do you mean I can't start at a big magazine in New York? I'm sure the woman was trying to be helpful, so I wouldn't get my hopes crushed, but I didn't want to work in New Jersey. I wanted to climb onto the #167 bus from Dumont and work in Manhattan. That was the heart of it all, and the comment from the well-suited PR professional only made me more determined to dig my heels in.

And while I like New Jersey Monthly now [it's gotten better], back then, I didn't know it from donuts, and besides, I had stars in my eyes. I had read The Bell Jar, eagerly devouring every detail of Sylvia Plath's internship at Mademoiselle. I had immersed myself in stacks of bound issues of Better Homes and Gardens at the Rutgers Library for my journalism thesis on gender roles in advertising. I had sat transfixed during media classes, and been awed when a friend a year older mailed me an issue of Seventeen, where she was working. And I danced at party after party with my friends from The Daily Targum--after the Bruce Springsteen music, we'd often end up wrapping our arms around each other's waists and kicking high to Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York."

I meant those words--If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere... And the reason I bring all this up is that here I am nearly 30 years later, faced with starting out again. So I'm sending my resume and writing samples to my dream magazines. Why not? After this long in the business, I've met a fair amount of people, and email is a helpful tool.

I tip my hat--well, the ends of my pink Coach scarf--to the young women and men out there who are hitting the pavement for the first time, too. It ain't always easy, but it really is fun to pursue a dream job. Never say never, to quote Justin Bieber.

Good night, sweet dreams of success.

TCOY

Boot camp in the soccer dome; a lot of sprints.
Walked Sug around block once.
Bought turkey, light Swiss and good rye bread for lunch sandwiches.
Long bubble bath.

Go Giants

2012-01-22T22:07:00.014-05:00

Everyone on Facebook is posting about the big game, and H. is down the block at John's watching it, too. I'm tempted, there's so much interest. It seems the hip thing to do. But no, am heading to bed. Knowing me, it would be one giant excuse to eat chips and dip, anyway.

Today, Figgy worked, H. drove her back and forth and caught up with organizing his home office, and I drove to Connecticut. Sis and Don took me to the Indian Harbor Yacht Club for a lovely lunch overlooking the water. [They got married on a sailboat there 16 years ago.] Then we made a pilgrimage to Greenwich Avenue, where I dragged her into Vineyard Vines, Tory Burch and Kate Spade but we bought nothing. That was definitely your birthday present, she said dryly of braving those stores. [She's more of a Lands' End or Lord & Taylor shopper, and doesn't like logos, of which Tory has many.]

Next, Sis drove us to Greenwich Point, where we sat in the car and listened to old phone messages Dad left her last year on her iPhone voice mail. We walked out to look at the water but it was too cold for Sis, so I just stood for a few minutes by the beach. Even for a quick breath on a gray winter day, I am grateful to see the surf. Dad, I want to remember you happy and healthy, I said as I looked at the churning waves. You gave us such humor and intelligence and goodness. I want to hold onto that. I don't want to forget it. I want to carry it forward.

My Sis is good. She even made me a little heart-shaped walnut cake and she and Don sang to me. She also presented a tiny tin of her cream cheese spritz cookies, so elf-sized and delicate that I later balanced one on my pinky to show Figgy it was no bigger than the stone on a flashy cocktail ring.

Back home, birthday dinner H. made--filet mignon, baked potatoes, Brussels sprouts and Maida Heatter brownies with ice cream, all served on my parents' wedding china. He reported that he bought Scharffen Berger chocolate and Irish butter for the brownie recipe. I was impressed. He really has been watching. ;)

Good night.

TCOY

Moisturized face, and gold star for good tooth care.
Full after lunch, so resisted dessert menu and had decaf cappuccino.

Fresh New Snow, Fresh New Start

2012-01-21T22:19:00.001-05:00

I shoveled for more than a hour, and enjoyed it. The snow was light, easy on the knees and heart.

I tried to channel the little girl in yesterday's photo, not to be young and unsure, but just to remember how she felt, how she thought. She would have liked being outside in the snow--it was a magical gift that transformed her ordinary gray neighborhood into a big white playland. And when she finally went inside for lunch, she wouldn't have wanted two helpings of leftover pasta. She just wasn't that way. She would have been full; seconds would not even have occurred to her [except at parties, where there were rare treats, like cans of grape soda, brightly colored M&Ms and bakery butter cookies].

Elly took life-size [not little] me out for a latte, and Moey treated me to dinner. It was good to talk and laugh. H. left around 5:30 to work at a party.

I do miss Dad. Good night.

TCOY

Snow shoveling in clean fresh air.
Seeing my girlfriends.
Ice water.

10 Pink Candle Wishes

2012-01-21T00:13:00.005-05:00

Sis and me in the water--young and not knowing what lies beneath, or what lies ahead.

Today I turn 51. I usually wish for health and happiness in broad strokes when I blow out the candles. Or I'll wish that I can be with these same people gathered around me again next year. But this time I'd like to wish for more. I'd like to be like my little girl self in the water, not knowing what's ahead but believing all good things are possible. To recapture that feeling of trust, freedom, security, steady footing, fun, lightness and merriment. If you have a lot, you wouldn't have to fill hollows by overeating, right?

We were small, but our future was big as the pond and beyond. Random list:

Take better care of face and teeth. Tired of neglecting myself. Today my skin looked old in the salon mirror.
Send out more resumes, continue to pursue a job at a magazine in NYC. I miss that world. I'm sure of that. Have gotten some interest already, a positive sign. Will do my best to believe in myself and not lose confidence even if it takes a long time. It's a choppy economy out there.
Keep up with boot camp. It's been three years, and I really like the feeling of working out with Patsy and my great group of friends. If I do get a job, will have to switch to 5:15 A.M. class. That will be hard, but I'm not willing to give up boot camp.
Respect myself and my body. Eat better. Don't surf through the riptide of sweets without a wetsuit and a sense of when to ride a wave, taking a chance on every cupcake and piece of chocolate that looks good. Don't snack so much after dinner. Balance healthy foods that I like with treats. I do appreciate good chocolate. I don't want to waste my time on ordinary junk. Eat more veggies and fruits. Just bought a bag of frozen blueberries.
Keep in better touch with my old friends. I've been slipping away. Send message in a bottle.
Make yoga a part of my life again. Have started already. Like the balance and perspective it gives me.
Keep blogging daily. I enjoy it [and thank you for reading it].
Write, write, write. Find a way to write a meaningful story or book--meaningful to me and to readers.
Listen. Am getting better at this. Keep pausing to hear what others say, and what they mean, rather than race on to my next sentence or thought.
Be an instrument of peace, as a mother, wife, sister and friend.

Good night.

TCOY

Boot camp in the soccer dome.
Walked Sug around block after boot camp, and then under the stars.
Salon blowout; Vamp Salon gives 20 percent off services for your birthday.
Stared down peanut butter pretzel sandwiches and Pepperidge Farm Milanos @ Kings. Had them in my hand, put them back on shelves.
H. and I worked out a new payment plan for looming bill, and I also faced another looming bill.
I kept my head when someone else lost his.

Mrs. List

2012-01-20T00:01:00.005-05:00

Santa, the ultimate listmaker.

I jokingly call H. Mr. List, because he likes making lists and checking things off. Truth be told, some of his to-do goals are really lofty--like Publish a book!!!--but then darn if he doesn't eventually run off and do them.

He teases me because I write down small and big chores--today's had things like Drive Figgy to school and Put on charm bracelet--minutiae in some ways, but big things in other ways if you're battling inertia. And sometimes, if I'm not looking, he'll add funny items to my list that make me laugh, such as Go to the bathroom or Blow my nose.

As Sis and Moey have told me, making lists is productive because you feel better knowing you completed even ordinary tasks.

I do have seven check marks today. Not a bad start as I return to Mrs. List. Sleep well. I hope you're warm on this cold night.

TCOY

Pulled on leggings, laced up sneakers and took Sug for a long walk, up hill behind iris gardens.
Lots of ice water.
Really enjoyed firing up my oven and making Cafe Annie's Chocolate Cake, a recipe I tore out of Elle Magazine years back. It is credited to Robert Del Grande, Cafe Annie, Houston. Figgy makes the cupcakes to bring in for her friends, but tomorrow is her friend Nick's bday and she had a ton of homework, plus a group project, so I made them. There are enough left for my birthday on Saturday, too [in smaller sizes, quite inviting, and topped with pale yellow sprinkles bought months ago at Magnolia Bakery near Radio City]. The batter contains real cocoa, boiling water, earthy cinnamon and more--and far less butter than a rich devil's food cake I've made lately. The frosting is easy to whip up from melted chocolate and sour cream. Let me know if you want the recipe!

Hope and Marshmallows

2012-01-18T21:31:00.007-05:00

Going to bed, with some renewed hope. I don't know if hoping is a survival tactic, a realistic endeavor or fool's play, but it feels better than not hoping. Good night.

TCOY

Walked Sug around Edgemont Park once.
Boot camp in the soccer dome! Love being with my friends and Patsy. We boxed today.
Walked Sug around block once.
Shampooed, put on nice outfit and accessorized.
Turkey chili.
Private Benjamin with H. and Figgy.

Oopsy Daisy: After lunch, hungry for something sweet, ate too many marshmallows that I dunked in leftover melted chocolate. As I sunk my teeth into their squishy comfort, I realized that part of their appeal is that they are uniform, perfectly shaped, billowy pillows. Not scary, uneven, surprising or ragged. Clear-cut, you could say. Life may be messy but marshmallows are not. They're like the sections of a Hershey Bar, punched out in the candy factory to be even-steven. I hope my friend Michael from boot camp doesn't see this note. Alice, you can't do that!, he might say, like the time I told him about a special mocha drink with whipped cream that I like getting on Cape Cod. I like Michael. He's funny. And I mind way less hearing him tell me I can't do that than hearing it from H. When Michael says it, I laugh. When H. says it, I want to cry. I think it's his delivery.

Sweet and Sour

2012-01-17T22:32:00.007-05:00

Very rough-tough day. When they hand you a baby at the hospital, you have no idea what's in store. You only know that the sweet little being needs you, like a baby robin needs to take refuge under a parent's warm wings. The mother has flown far and wide. She knows the way, and is eager to introduce her robin's egg blue treasure to the friendly skies, the leafy perches, the sunny birdbaths. To protect her from storms that shake the tree.

Birds fashion a nest from leaves and twine and even plastic but you, you feather yours with tiny pink clothes, newborn diapers, stuffed animals and storybooks. You only know that you've loved that wingling since the moment you could, and you can't imagine ever not loving her.

Then life intervenes, and many buttons are pressed, beliefs tested, hopes challenged, worries piled up. It's not all pink balloons and train birthday cakes, like the one you baked for her first birthday. It's not a blur of drooling grins and moptop hair. It's a struggle to grow, to land, to fly, to find. And her struggle is different than the one you remember from flight school, though you keep trying to think of ways it might be the same. She takes flight where there are sharp, prickly thorns--she's not always winging through friendly skies, as you naively hoped she could.

Sometimes it is more than my little heart can take. I don't know if a mother robin feels that way.

Must retreat to sleep. Good night.

TCOY

Made whole-wheat pasta with broccoli and chicken for dinner.

Order in the House

2012-01-16T23:21:00.003-05:00

I used the holiday to bring loads of laundry up and down to the basement with H.--dirty on way down, clean and full of promise on way up. To fold and hang my clothes that were piling up in bedroom. To take down the Christmas tree, which was so dry that it looked like a bent-over freak of nature after the Grinch stole all the ornaments.

I love rediscovering old treasures when we put Christmas up [the fat, glittery partridge and Woolworth's red plastic Santa from my Irish grandma, the sparkly gold boot from my Italian grandma], but it feels fresh and new to reclaim your living room once you put everything away and sweep up the pine needles.

Some big casualties this year, though. When I was away a couple days in Colorado, the tree tipped over and crashed to the floor, and some of our favorite ornaments broke. The beautiful pink ballerina that I bought at Bergdorf Goodman when Figgy was tiny lost her legs; H. is going to try and glue them back on. The Santa ornament with glittery clock dangling underneath [I bought it one year for H.] lost its timepiece. And the angel-perched-on-a-long-icicle frosted glass ornament that Santa hung on a bough for Figgy one year is now just the angel--with one wing. Oh well. The remnants are still hangable from their golden gossamer loops.

It matters less that the fake angels are whole and intact than that the real angels in our midst--and they're there if we look at the people we love--are still allowed to be seen and be cherished.

I'm glad I got all of this cleanup done so that I can carve out good time to write and research tomorrow--and start by picking a freshly hung outfit to wear for a productive workday from home.

Good night.

TCOY

Let myself sleep late. Very, very late. As in, I don't know if I've slept this late since I was a very tired college freshman and Saturday finally rolled around.
Went to follow-up appointment to discuss breast biopsy. Went well.
Lit candles once darkness fell; looked pretty.
Dusted, again so I could get the cobwebs out of my head today and not be bogged down by them when I sit down to work tomorrow.

Signing off at 1:15 A.M.

2012-01-16T01:18:00.001-05:00

I should be asleep right now. But Figgy was in a great fashion show at a Clifton nightclub and H.and I didn't leave to go till almost 9 P.M.....Speakeasy Vintage [Johnny] provided the awesome clothing--dresses, suits, coats, hats--and Bangz hair salon did the stunning hair and makeup. Fig wore a nice vintage tailored dress, black patent slingbacks, bright Nars lipstick and a white Dior turban. Interesting scene. People dress a lot differently to go out dancing at clubs than they did when I was younger--lots of high-high-high wedges and spiky heels and platforms...and black, lacy tights...and black glittery tops.....and short, short skirts or black leggings......and big hair or long hair or frosted hair or curly hair....perfect hair....my hair looked very underdone in comparison...oh well....good night.

TCOY

Mass with Sis, Don and Moey. My friend Beth got a Mass Card when Papa died and today's Mass in our parish was in remembrance of him.
Rough times, rocky worries--watched TV movie and took nap on couch.

Blueberries for Sal

2012-01-14T22:59:00.003-05:00

Just read that book about a little girl and her mother [and a little bear and his mother] on Blueberry Hill in Maine. Punch sleeping over. We read that story to little Figgy so many times. Sometimes I really miss the days of reading our Figgy bedtime stories while she hung on every word, her hair still damp from her bubble bath, her fuzzy white nightgown with pink ribbons touching my arm. We studied every illustration and detail--every instance of word play, every funny expression. I trust that those times and those memories will always be in her heart--and while the readings are far more sporadic, I hope they will live long in Punch's heart and field of vision, too.

I must catch some ZZZs now too. Sweet dreams to you.

TCOY

Early yoga class...went with Diane. Liked that teacher, Joe, was telling us to open up area around and behind the heart. Am all for that.
Walked Sug around block once.
Got some fresh cold air with Punch and Sug--Punch and I drew with chalk, blew bubbles and went on swing set. I like her courage and independence.
Saw Moey, Ted and Laura.

Stirring Up Some Mischief

2012-01-13T22:39:00.003-05:00

While the cat's away, the mouse will: make Sarabeth Levine's Triple-Chocolate Chocolate Pudding [so named b/c it contains bittersweet chocolate, unsweetened chocolate and pure cocoa powder].

It was 7 P.M. on a Friday night. H. was winging home from Montreal, Fig was at her friend's house, Sug was collapsed on a chair, it was bitter cold outside and I had some feelings and worries and wishes to work through. So I stood at the stove, measuring and stirring and whisking. This is cooked chocolate pudding, from page 235 of the great book Sarabeth's Bakery: From My Hands to Yours. [I met the amazing baker at Macy's last summer and she generously gave me a disk of pie dough; read here. It was one of the best gifts of my life.]

I haven't spooned into it yet, but may dip into one of the chilled custard cups now. There's just something therapeutic about taking ordinary things like milk, sugar, eggs and chocolate and turning them into a timeless, old-fashioned treat. [Don't you love this chapter name? Spoon Desserts.]

I don't know how to explain it....I can't control some behaviors in others that worry me....I can't change what people decide, be they family, friends or colleagues.....I can't force someone's hand... I can't snap my fingers and make them see the truth in an instant....I can only change me and the way I look at the world and interact with it...and I can change--yes I can!--plain-Jane groceries into magical riches.

Good night.

TCOY

Boot camp in the park...in the snow, hail, sun.
Walked Sug around block once.
Communicated clearly and maturely about finances with H.
Talked to Punch and felt warm and fuzzy inside--we're seeing her tomorrow.
Put on jeans, zipped them up--easy to overeat in skirts that aren't fitted.
Stared down good-looking peanut butter sandwich cookies at Whole Foods.
Bought a bunch of pink tulips for five bucks, put on mantel in antique pitcher from house sale in Vermont.

Tired but Proud

2012-01-12T23:10:00.003-05:00

Just handed in a big article revise for Good Housekeeping. One steeped in details about pretty silver jewelry, rich peach hand cream, shiny skillets and sprinkled with warnings about consumer scams....all in one piece! Will tell you when it runs.

Want to crawl into bed and read before lights out. Good night to you.

TCOY
Ummmm....nothing? That's unlike me, but it was pouring rain, and I spent the day shuttling Figgy to school, the doctor and the Y. and H. to the airport, in between working. A lot of emotional energy, too. But I guess one good thing I did was to pick up penne with chicken, artichoke hearts and sun-dried tomatoes from the pizza place--because I was too busy to cook dinner--and only eat half of it. It was so huge, I'm pretty sure nobody could eat the whole thing. That's the beauty of Jersey Italian food! Hey, wait a minute. I also moved a box of Mallomars and 15 Dove Promises out to my milkbox, so they wouldn't tempt me. ;)

"There's Nothing Abnormal"

2012-01-11T13:01:00.004-05:00

Just called for breast biopsy results. H. flying to Canada for two days tomorrow and was anxious to find out; me too.

Was on hold for a while.

There's nothing abnormal, but the doctor wants you to come in so she can discuss the results with you, the woman who answered the phone told me. Okay, so there's nothing bad, but she just wants me to come in and talk about it? I asked. Yes, she said. Can you come in Friday? I couldn't, so I'm going Monday.

Relieved. Still wondering about what doctor wants to tell me, but can take deep breath for now. And stop self-soothing with chocolate in many forms [KitKat Dark, Balance bar, Dove Promises].

Thank you for caring and being there for me to tell...

TCOY

Boot camp in the park.
Walked Sug around block once.
Good tooth care.
Whole Foods with Fig; didn't spend a lot, and didn't buy any chocolate. ;)
Finally planted self in chair to work on article revise. Built up head of steam that should power me through tomorrow.

January 10th Sky @ Dusk

2012-01-10T21:35:00.006-05:00

It was so pretty today at 5:30 P.M.. I was leaving an appointment in Montclair. Before I walked--like a robot, programmed to complete chores--to my car, opened the door, sat down and turned the key, I just stood there watching Mother Nature's performance art.

The sun was setting. The dark, stark trees were silhouetted against a stripy sky. The light was shining through the branches and over the rooftops, basking in the glow of me watching every last second--like little ballerinas on a school stage who smile and bow repeatedly until the heavy red velvet curtains finally swoosh closed.

You can't see them behind the velvet then, but you know perfectly well what they look like, how lovely they were with their ribboned buns and how masterfully they executed their final spins. You remember.

Good night.

TCOY

Walked Sug around block once.
Bike ride next to Patsy, while she ran! About 50 minutes, around and through Brookdale Park, on such a pretty day.
H. and I made a healthy dinner--salmon, baked baby potatoes, steamed green veggies. [Patsy told me about a salmon topper she likes--mix mayo, good mustard--not yellow hotdog mustard--and dried dill, spread over filet, bake at 350 to 400 degrees about 15 to 20 minutes per pound or until fish flakes easily when tested in center with fork. It was great. And you can use low-fat mayo.]
Private Benjamin.
Work set up so I can plunge in tomorrow and be productive. I think I can, I think I can. I know I can.

Don't Mess with the Power of Patsy

2012-01-09T22:08:00.035-05:00

Meet Patsy Manning. She's changed my life.

If you read my blog, you know Patsy's name. When I list boot camp on my daily TCOY [Take Care of Yourself] list, I'm talking about Patsy's Accelerate Boot Camp. This month marks three years since A. Patsy launched it and B. I joined. I was a mere 47 then....and pretty much a fitness slug. Patsy has admitted to me that she worried she might need to use CPR because I panted so much.

Patsy's BC becomes something you love to hate or hate to love, a commitment you carve out time for, work around, don't want to miss. It's tough, but addictive. And it's hard to think of a healthier addiction than one that gets your heart pumping and your lungs filled with air. It's hard to put a price on being able to zip up your jeans or feel pretty in a sleeveless sweater.

I finally got back to BC today after almost three weeks off--the longest I've ever missed. We were away in Maine for a week, then my injured ankle from an icy fall in the Pine Tree State kept me home, too. At first, I couldn't even fit my swollen right foot into my Saucony sneaker. I wore my brother-in-law Michael's Crocs all week. [Thank you, Michael.] But today, I was happy to be back in Brookdale Park, the sun shining on Patsy's ponytail as she guided us through shuffles, planks and push-ups.

I swear, I could feel my belly rising like dough and my arms getting bigger with every class missed.

Top 10 Patsy Powers

She is a graceful gazelle but not in an annoying way. She's patient and encouraging with everyone in class, from the marathon runners to the stragglers like me. When she demos moves, her form is perfect. But she doesn't gloat; she's gracious. An iron fist in a velvet glove; our mentor. And like any great leader, she brings together people who are different to reach a common goal for the greater good. We are women and men, parents or not, working or staying home. We are artists, teachers, engineers, writers, therapists, astrologers, chefs, young mothers, young retirees and everything in between. We are in our 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s or closing in on 60. Yes we are.
She's a good influence. Patsy has been my next-door neighbor for 10+ years, and living this close has its benefits. I'm convinced that being in her energy sphere gives me a bonus 100 calories burned every day--just by watching her pedal toward the park on a bike, run down the street or drive off to a kickboxing class. But it also makes me more likely to wheel out my own bike or hit the pavement. [I secretly hope when I walk Sug that Patsy will see me out exercising. She sometimes does.] I know she likes to keep junk food out of her house--she tells us that a lot--and so I try not to bring home the Oreos either. If they're not there, you can't eat them.
She shares and inspires so generously. Patsy has invited me over to sample a PB protein shake and treated me to a skinny Starbucks latte. She once brought me big Band-Aids when I fell and cut my foot, turkey soup when I had a cold, a book of inspirational readings and Cooking Light's best recipe collection.
She's strong. She can do 10 burpees like nobody's business. Don't know what a burpee is? Lucky you. Neither did I until I joined. But now my vocabulary includes: rows, squats, mountain climbers, sumo walk, globetrotter, plank and more.
She's a model person. If you hang around her, you can see how thoughtful she is, starting with the ones closest to her--her husband, Andy [also kind, good-looking, fit and fast], their two adorable kids, Will and Maddy, and even their sizable lizard, Ziggy, a pet Patsy holds and plays with. Her thoughtfulness and golden heart rub off on you.
She's funny. She cracks us up with the reminders to Squeeze your butt--or the 10-second water breaks she doles out. The thing is, she's not kidding.
She's well-dressed. This is important. I sure don't want to drag my sorry self around following directions from someone who doesn't look stylish. Patsy does--from her Gloria Steinem aviator sunglasses to her cool sneakers, from her fleece head wraps to her bright workout tops. Fashion is a good distraction, in any case, to take one's mind off reps.
She's creative and clever. She offers free morning holiday classes to which you can bring your friends and family. [I took H. once and he almost died.] She's done these on Thanksgiving, Fourth of July and New Year's Eve. She has even brought us champagne for the new year and little red-foil-wrapped Dove chocolates on Valentine's Day [one per person--don't get your hopes up, it was just a token treat]. She has all kinds of fun ideas up her sleeve, from boxing to stations to partnering up. You don't get bored b/c no two classes are the same. Really.
She brings out the kid in you. The girls and boys we once were are still inside us, and Patsy coaxes them out to play. We've skipped, galloped, hopscotched, jumped rope, played catch, kicked a soccer ball, thrown a softball and done relay races.
She empowers you. It's not just about getting faster and stronger on the steps or the field. It's really about believing in yourself, in your capabilities, your self-esteem, your inner will, your outer stride. It spills out into your life, your work, your relationships. And for that, I will be forever grateful.

And that's my list in praise of Patsy this Monday night in January. If you don't have a little Patsy in your life, I strongly recommend checking her out for personal training--or joining the rest of us at boot camp Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings @ 5:15 A.M. or 9:30 A.M. Call Patsy @ 201.709.3177 or email patsy@XLR8fit.com

Night.

TCOY

Boot Camp in the park.
Walked Sug around block once.
Didn't overeat. That's what BC does--helps you eat mindfully, especially since you're putting in all that effort during classes.

I Think This May Be a Better JPEG Version of My Coastal Living Essay?

2012-01-08T13:53:00.006-05:00

.....at least I hope so...anyway, thank you. And thanks for the ride, Dad. The many, many rides, not just the ones over the Tappan Zee, up 95, through Providence and out Route 6 to the edges of Cape Cod, but also the ones to Girl Scouts, to Garden State Farms for milk, to St. Mary's for Mass, to CCD, to the gym in Bergenfield, to Granny's, to work, to college, to my apartment......the rides in your little secondhand Renault, the white Falcon, the 1970s green Datsun, the beige Chevy Nova and the white Chevrolet....and thank you for giving me the courage, confidence and independence to drive everywhere on my own....

TCOY

Mass....liked seeing the familiar faces of fellow parishioners--the usher in the gum-soled shoes, the family with the two grown sons, the single mom with her young children, a couple and their two adorable blonde pixie daughters--and the familiar pews, windows and lights.
Nap.
Made healthy dinner! Inspired by my niece Leah--rainbow chard pan-cooked with onion, garlic, mushrooms, fresh asparagus and tofu. Yes, you read that right, tofu.
Watched "Desperate Housewives" with Figgy and "Pan Am" by myself. Love that show.

Turning Back the Hands of Fashion Time

2012-01-08T00:43:00.012-05:00


The vintage Delmonico watch I bought at Speakeasy today for a song.

My Speakeasy treasure from 1955 holiday collection by Ingber: "KING SIZED foldover clutch is of luxurious O'llegro, a combination of Orion and Dynel. Bag has a highly polished brass frame and is satin lined."***

I'm so happy that Figgy works part-time weekends at Speakeasy Vintage on Bloomfield Avenue in Montclair. In high school, I was thrilled to land a typesetting job at the weekly Twin-Boro News. When I see Fig at this vintage wonderland, it seems like the perfect playground and learning spot--a dream job, really. It takes me back to the fonts and X-acto knives at the newspaper in the late 1970s. It's a chance for her to immerse herself in the things she loves, and I am so grateful for the shop and for Johnny Petrozzino, Fig's boss.

Today Figgy worked from noon to 5, and I stopped by to pick her up and study the fashion finds. I love visiting with Johnny, who co-owns Speakeasy with his brother Frankie. Today Johnny was wearing a really cool shirt from the fifties. They have an amazing eye, and great luck at unearthing incredible treasures from estate sales, vintage shows and other digs. This afternoon, I tried on a beautiful, soft, lined, flower-bud-strewn 1950s white cardigan but it was too small. I lusted after a gold handbag. And I admired elegant formal dresses that belonged to a famous designer.

And see my faux-fur foldover clutch, shown above? It has a little satin change purse attached by a cord.....my Mom had that same mini purse, though not the big clutch....I adore this handbag.....the satin lining is impeccable and luxe and the price was $34. Ever since I bought it in November, people have stopped me to say they love it.

Johnny and Frankie even have a Request Book, where they'll make notes of something vintage you may have a hankering for. For instance, Johnny will keep an eye out for larger-size ladies' sweaters for me.

I can't seem to set the watch that I bought--but I knew that going in, and the beautiful band fits my wrist and the sparkly style makes me happy. I don't care if it keeps time. That's fashion.

I hope you'll check it out: 465 Bloomfield Avenue, right above Johari, the lingerie store. You have to ring a buzzer to get up the stairs--it's a hidden pleasure, like a real speakeasy. Phone: 973.783.4911. Call for store hours.

***Thanks to www.bagladyemporium.com, where I found a photo and description of my bag. [But I actually took my own photo above.]

TCOY

Went to 8 A.M. yoga class with my friend Diane! Nice!
Walked Sug around block once.
This will sound weird, but made peanut butter pie and a jar of hot fudge sauce. H. and Fig were both out working and left to my own devices, I found it comforting to make this. I froze the PB pie squares for future and the hot fudge is in a jar in the fridge.
Did a load of delicate wash with Woolite.
Nap.
Movie!!!! H. and I saw "The Artist," and it was wonderful.

My Essay about Dad from Coastal Living Magazine

2012-01-07T15:05:00.007-05:00

I finally got around to scanning it. Some of my friends and my cousin Lin looked for the December 2011/January 2012 issue of Coastal Living Magazine in stores but couldn't find it. Sis could, but then she lives in Connecticut, and closer to the coast. She said even her CVS had it. Anyway, here's the file. I hope you like it. [I'm assuming that if you click on the image, you can see bigger type. Am about to try.]

BTW:

The word limit was 750. I had to cut it back from my original, but that turned out to be kind of fun, like solving a puzzle. I love the challenge of saying things colorfully in fewer words. And my words were in the hands of Stephanie, a very careful and capable editor. That helped.
By the time I was revising, the essay had moved from a summer 2012 issue to the December 2011 issue. So I made sure to tuck in some memories of winter trips to the Cape with Dad and Figgy. Those two poor souls--I would drag them everywhere, from Christmas fair to lighthouse to bake sale, even in the snow. He was too old and kind and she was too young to protest.
I had H., Figgy and calm, cool, wise Sis read it before it was published--Figgy because it mentions personal things about her, and Sis because I knew she could vet details about when our family started going to the Cape and what kind of fish Dad caught, etc. They okayed it. :)
I originally called it The Old Man and the Sea, which I thought was pretty clever. But editors know best, I think. A lot of readers have kindly responded via email to my essay, and told me about the cherished homes by the sea that their parents got for them--so Dad's Gift probably was better, especially around Christmastime.

The Dawning of the Age of Aquarius

2012-01-06T23:02:00.003-05:00

When the moon is in the Seventh House
And Jupiter aligns with Mars
Then peace will guide the planets
And love will steer the stars

This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius
The Age of Aquarius
Aquarius! Aquarius!

Harmony and understanding
Sympathy and trust abounding
No more falsehoods or derisions
Golden living dreams of visions
Mystic crystal revelation
And the mind's true liberation
Aquarius! Aquarius!

[with thanks to The 5th Dimension]

My birthday is January 21, right near the cusp of the Aquarius sign. And some good things happened today, workwise, several steps in the right direction. An assignment from a good magazine I've never written for, and a couple of leads in my job search/some interest in my resume. Add nice phone calls from my cousin Lin and from Sis, connecting with Elly over coffee, and Italian comfort food with H. and friends. So, I say this is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius. [Some day, I'd like to introduce you to my friend Heidi, who is a smart and stylish blonde astrologer....please ask me if you want her contact info.]

Good starry night [it really is looking celestial up there, clear and sparkly, hopeful and true--go outside and look].

TCOY

Rest.
Walked Sug around block twice.
Setting alarm to go to 8 A.M. yoga class with my friend tomorrow.
Brought home half of baked ziti from dinner.

Hidden Evils

2012-01-05T21:41:00.005-05:00

I don't drink much. The last time I had two glasses of Baileys Irish Cream was during the cocktail hour at a New Jersey wedding in the 1980s, and I got a little tipsy. But tonight I'm on my second small glassful, and doing alright. I wanted to forget the pain, and the worry. Breasts can be lovely, but they can also harbor hidden evils, as it turns out.

Today I got a breast biopsy, several samples taken from my right breast behind the nipple--an area hard to access, I was told. Please excuse the raw frankness of this post. But when this breast biopsy business happens, you start looking at your body as a sum of its parts, not so much a beautiful whole.

I've held back from blogging about this, because I can be dramatic and anyway, I don't even know what the biopsy results are. And I don't want to jinx myself.

I went for a routine mammogram Dec. 12, then was called back for a follow-up ultrasound and films [Dec. 22]. Up in Maine right after Christmas, my doctor called to relay that it was advised that I get an ultrasound-guided needle biopsy. That maybe the lump was nothing, but they wanted to be sure. That it's small, under 2 cm., so even if it is something/malignant, they can just take it out. It hasn't spread.

I thanked her, then I flipped closed my cell phone and and cried alone in John's house in Maine, thinking of my mother dying from colon cancer at age 56, and leaving me behind, and how much I hated that, and how much I pray I won't ever have to leave Figgy behind when she is young. Then I made the appointment for today.

I'm too tired to write much. And my boob feels sore. It was terrifying. The thought of the needles in such a sensitive area [even after numbing], the punching-stapler sound of the several biopsy samples being taken.

H. drove me--he was so good. I went to the desk to sign in and show my insurance card. I looked behind me to my right at the waiting room chairs to see if he had sat down and then I thought, No, if I twirl around the other way, he will be at my side. And there he was, to my left, in his tan corduroy pants. I just hadn't seen him. He seemed smaller, because I was wearing heels. [Heels make me feel better; I had on a new purple sweater skirt, too. On sale. ] And he was quieter, because this was serious. But he was smiling. He was so good, like some kind of benevolent magic force.

I was OK through the procedure, though clutching the edge of the bed. It was really hard to visualize the ocean or Cape Cod with all of that going on, even though the doctor and her assistant were gracious and capable. I almost fainted afterward when you have to sit up and get the post-op instructions--I think it was the fear of it all kicking in, the seeing the bandage, the getting the ice pack. A nurse came and checked my BP and gave me some juice.

Now I wait for the results. I hope and pray it's fine. I thank you for listening. And I'm not writing this for pity, just for facts, and feelings, and memories, and details, so I can look back and remember. So Figgy can look back and remember if she ever has to face a tricky test like this. [Figgy, it's a major pain in the boob, but as your mother, I say, Just Do It. What's the alternative?]

Good night.

TCOY

Nothin' really, except boob biopsy to protect my future.
Salon blowout, which I had scheduled last week to save five bucks.

Grateful for Heating Oil--

2012-01-04T21:49:00.002-05:00

...on a cold night like this. Thankful that the gauge on our old black oil tank in the basement is not wavering near empty. Good night.

TCOY

Walked Sug around block once.
Made broccoli-mushroom quiche with half whole-grain flour in the crust and Cabot reduced-fat Cheddar in the filling. Using 50 percent whole-grain flour and 50 percent white flour makes a really tasty crust, though a bit harder to roll out for me.
Threw out some chocolate cupcakes lurking in freezer.
Music.

Not Taking Things for Granted

2012-01-03T20:54:00.003-05:00

What do you think when you find this in your husband's pocket?

H.'s black leather jacket is hanging on one of the metal hooks by the back door. He was upstairs and I rifled through the pockets to find his wallet to get some cash; I knew he just went to the ATM. Wallet not there. What was: Plain ChapStick [I put it in his Christmas stocking] and Listerine Cool Mint Breath Strips.

I don't want to take things for granted anymore--my friendships, my good fortune, my home, my health, my heart, my skills, my family or my husband. So for some reason, it occurred to me when I found those things that I'm lucky H. is faithful and true, that I know 100 percent that the ChapStick and the Breath Strips are exactly what they appear to be at face value, that he's not involved with someone else [and if you think about it, both of those things could implicate dating--a lip treatment and a breath freshener]. I'm glad I can go through his pockets and not worry about him cheating on me. I'm glad I don't find lipstick marks [not my color] or perfumed pink paper with a phone number written in flowery script. Script that promises pleasures to come.

But as a writer, you see, I could weave a whole fictional tale around this discovery. Just as you probably could when visualizing me rifling through my husband's jacket pockets for grocery money.

This must seem like a random post that comes out of nowhere. But this is the year to not take things for granted.

Good night.

TCOY

Bought new issue of Eating Well Magazine this morning and made the slow-cooker chicken in it, with mushrooms, onions, garlic and thyme. Very good for a wintry day.
Walked Sug around block twice in the freezing cold. We were both shivering, her in her little plaid fleece with the turned-up collar.
Bubble bath, even if brief.
Stared down fancy praline chocolates and sandwich cookies at Kings.

Lip Love

2012-01-02T23:29:00.028-05:00

Who knew that I would go to Colorado and return with a new beauty best friend?

Here's a frivolous post, about a lip product I'm really loving: Ormedic Balancing Lip Enhancement Complex by Image Skincare.

Wait a minute--is the quest for pretty lips frivolous? I think not.

I've tried many, many lip balms. They're the quickest route to beauty. Even if you're pressed for the time or desire to apply moisturizer, foundation, eye cream, concealer, shadow, brow pencil, mascara, blush and/or bronzer [gee, even listing all that is tiring], anyone can find the time to glide on a lip treatment [and maybe add a quick spritz of fragrance, too].

I've used Smashbox O-Gloss, $22; Jo Malone Vitamin E Lip Conditioner, $25 [which my generous big sister bought me at Bloomingdale's in Soho]; Cherry ChapStick, $1.39 [and it's not half bad]; and countless others. Lip treatments are generally on the affordable end of even high-profile beauty lines.

I didn't try this one until I got my facial at the Rocky Mountain Day Spa in Steamboat Springs, CO in December and Amanda put this on my lips.

Do you like how your lips feel? she asked as I was leaving. I did. And I really liked how they looked. It may have been the mountain air, I don't know, but I liked the nude, soft, natural understated statement. I bought a tube for $19--and even hunted it down just now on Amazon for $17.50 [not sure how much it costs to ship, though]. It's addictive. I love to reapply it many times a day. It makes me feel younger.

Now, obviously, this could become an expensive habit. But I'm still on Tube 1, and got it December 17, so....

Sweet dreams.

TCOY

Cleaned dresser top, rediscovered nice long-lost accessories that I plan to wear more.
Cleaned out fridge, threw out old food, roasted panful of carrots and sweet potatoes with rosemary and made banana bread with whole-grain pastry flour and three black bananas.
Nap by Christmas tree with Sug.
Private Benjamin.
Read.

Courage

2012-01-02T00:20:00.002-05:00

I need courage now, at 12:11 A.M. after the first full day of the new year. I can't tell you why. Just know that I need it.

Actually, we all need it always, don't we? But we take it for granted.

It's what propels us out of bed to face the day.....to go to school or work or stay home to raise a family...it's what prodded my frail grandmother, Alice, to walk across Washington Avenue to Grand Union to stock up on Social Teas....it's what it takes to find, and keep, a job....and what Dad had, especially at the end of his life--the bravery to smile and joke even though he was in pain and couldn't wash himself or walk....it's what writers and artists and scientists and doctors have, to make a decision and follow through on it.....it's what we do when we simply show up--at dinner, in meetings, or on the bus--with difficult people.

Anyway, I do need some courage now. Good night.

TCOY

Bike ride with H.! Such a pretty, unseasonably warm New Year's Day.
Visit to our friends' for brunch; nice to sip a mimosa and catch up.
Drinks with Anne, Elly and Barbara!!!!
Watched "Julie & Julia" with Figgy on living room couch by Christmas tree.

Happy New Year

2012-01-01T01:24:00.007-05:00

I'd love to be slimmer, calmer, more successful, more financially secure, in better shape and better dressed in 2012. Better organized and more punctual, too. I'd like to make more mindful food choices, like John and Leah [oatmeal with Maine blueberries; rainbow chard with tofu; baked sweet potatoes; mugs of tea], Patsy [healthy dinners] or even Figgy, with her crisp green apples and fresh fruit salad. I'd like to take better care of my skin and teeth. I also want to continue to be grateful for the goodness already in my life. I want to be healthy, and happy. I'd like to do more yoga, for balance and perspective. I'll shoulder on to be the best mother I can be, and the best partner, friend and sister--writer, too. Daughter no longer on that list.

I hope for the strength and the grace to see things through.

Best wishes to you for the new year.

TCOY

Salon blowout, to cross the threshold into 2012 with pampered hair.
Walked Sug around block once.
Nap.
Toasted the new year with dear friends--the Mernins' house for dinner, then Paige and Gary's festive party, where the candles flickered, the champagne flowed, we all blew noisemakers and I made a midnight wish in a houseful of nice adults and their children.

Safe Home

2011-12-30T22:38:00.003-05:00

My part of the drive home from Maine [a couple hours] involved steering into the purple-streaked sunset in New Hampshire, then through Massachusetts....very pretty and inspiring....building domes silhouetted against burning colors as H. dozed next to me, Sug settled in on the console and Figgy sketched her version of Alice in Wonderland in the back seat....happy to be home, with peppermint-striped candles lit on the mantel. Grateful for the hospitality of John and Leah up in Maine, opening their door to us so graciously.

Good night.

TCOY

Bought a half chef's salad to go at Belfast Co-op, and ate it at rest stop on way home. Yum.
Resisted chips and big, soft, hot, doughy, freshly rolled and buttered Auntie Anne's toasted almond pretzel.
Planning yoga tomorrow morning if it works out....hope my foot is OK for it, think so.
Water.

A Queen's Glittering View from Mount Battie

2011-12-30T00:17:00.011-05:00

Painting of the cove and the islands from J.M. Rogers Gallery in Lincolnville Beach.

I've been many beautiful places, but haven't seen anything more breathtaking than the view from Mount Battie in Camden Hills State Park. H. and I drove there today; the auto road was open till 4 P.M.

The views I've seen that rival this have stretched out before me when I was:

Standing on the humble little observation deck at Nauset Light Beach; on Coast Guard Bridge; or at Wellfleet Bay Wildlife Sanctuary on Cape Cod
Walking the Shore Path in Bar Harbor or looking at Thunder Hole in Acadia National Park
Driving along the California coastline with three girlfriends when I was in my twenties
In New Hampshire's Pinkham Notch
At Greenwich Point, CT
In Vermont
In the mountains of Steamboat Springs, CO

But I think Mount Battie may top them all. Years ago, H. and I hiked up to it. We also camped nearby with Figgy, and explored along the mountaintop with her when she was about two.

This afternoon, it was freezing, the wind was blowing, and we were bundled tip to toe in hats, gloves and cozy jackets. We climbed to the top of the tower, then came back down and I stood there, just stood there--even after H. took cover in the car--breathing in that view, one of the greatest gifts I've ever received. And the panels depicting the sweeping vista at our feet identified places on land and in the water, as far as the eye could see on a clear day: Owls Head [where our niece and her husband live]; Spruce Head [where she and her sister grew up]; Isleboro; Vinalhaven; Isle au Haut [where H., mini Figgy and I went to stay in a lighthouse keeper's house converted to a B&B]; The Graves; and many more.

Stand at the top of Mount Battie and you are a queen, counting the stunning jewels in your coveted tiara: aquamarine sky; blue topaz water; deep emerald trees; pearl-white clouds; diamond sunshine. I could never ever be richer than that. And I am so grateful to be bringing this vision home in my heart. We head back tomorrow.

One day, when the weather is nice, I want to open a folding chair on Mount Battie and just sit there for a long time. Good night. Smooth sailing.

TCOY

Took two short walks today.
Salad [Martha brought it for dinner].
Looked up at stars.
Six of us shared about 1 1/4 pints of ice cream after spaghetti dinner. Just enough but not too much per person!

Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction

2011-12-28T23:13:00.005-05:00

Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities. Truth isn't.
- Mark Twain, The Tragedy of Pudd'nhead Wilson

Enough said. Things I thought I'd never see, I'm seeing. Mostly bad, a couple good. I hate to be enigmatic, but I have to be in this public space. The bad three all involve human weaknesses and urges, things we all battle to different degrees; oranges, insecurities, broken promises, in three different yet similar scenarios. The good ones involve finding true hearts. I have to be very present to pick up on those. Good night.

TCOY

Faced music by setting up yet another follow-up medical appt.
Short walk to Co-op and back.
Summoning up the goddess of calm and wisdom, vs. flying off the handle and acting on emotion. Information is power.
Brief star-gazing with H. and Sug in freezing cold tonight.
Good tooth and hair care.

Dinner with Dave and Sheila

2011-12-27T23:12:00.011-05:00

My brother-in-law Dave is an author and artist; this is his book.

Let me tell you about H.'s brother Dave and his wife, Sheila. They've been married 30+ years and have three handsome sons--the youngest is just a couple of years older than Figgy. They still look young, but they've done a lot in their lives, including running a café called 90 Main in Belfast for a long time. Sheila unlocked the downstairs bake shop there at like 4 A.M. in the Christmas season to make wonderful loaves of bread. I loved to go in to see her and buy them. I always marveled at her energy, to do that and raise three boys.

Dave and Sheila live in a cozy Maine home with an old glowing wood stove. They have a pretty summer garden. They have family traditions, like making potato latkes and tender roasts with their boys every Christmas Eve. Dave is the kind of hands-on Dad who would always have his young boys in tow, taking them for swims, bringing them to pick blueberries on steep hills. He is a gifted artist--his work is all around Belfast, and he did a very famous illustration: An Historic Montage: Belfast, Maine. [Also check out the beautiful Belfast Summer in the store on his website.] Sheila is a gifted chef.

Oh, and two other tidbits:

Dave taught H. how to tie his shoes when H. was a little boy. I really cherish this, because H. needed some looking after so he wouldn't fall through the cracks.
Later, in Teaneck, NJ, H. asked Sheila out on a date before Dave ever did. H. and Sheila saw "American Graffiti" in 1973. How funny, because I was a couple of towns away seeing it, too--though I was younger. Lucky for Dave and me, no sparks flew for H. and Sheila.

Tonight, we went over for dinner. Sheila cooked a comforting winter squash soup and the best spanakopita I've ever had, made with both spinach and chard. [I hope to make it at home.] It was so nice to sit and talk with them. Since we live 450 miles away, we don't often get the chance.

Good night.

TCOY

Walked along bay and into town with H., Sug and our niece Mariah.
Very peaceful afternoon nap.
Good tooth care.

Mission: Impossible--Ghost Protocol

2011-12-26T22:04:00.008-05:00

We just went to see the movie as guests of H.'s brother Mike and his wife, Therese, who own the old-time* Colonial Movie Theatre in Belfast--it turns 100 this year. It is so cool and nicely restored. So good of M. and T. to let us in gratis, along with our nephews Taylor and Kyle.

The movie was longish, but the music was great and Tom Cruise is looking really, really handsome. His hair. His muscles. His ruggedly chiseled face. The way he sprints like an Olympian in a tailored suit, and scales the side of a sleek skyscraper wearing hip safety glasses. The female lead, Paula Patton, is also gorgeous.

I like the phrase: Mission: Impossible and would like to adopt it for parts of my life. :)

TCOY

Hot tea at the movies--not candy.
Short walk but at least got to see bay from High Street.

*The ticket prices are old-time, too: Adults & teens, $8; people 65 and older, $7; children under 13, $5. Matinees and bargain nights, all seats, $5. And the snacks also cost a lot less than in NJ.

Eat Local: Belfast, Maine

2011-12-26T13:58:00.012-05:00

Back again in the warm embrace of Belfast, Maine. H.'s brothers John and Mike both live on High Street, though a very long walk apart. Hobbled over on Christmas Eve to my favorite haunt, the Belfast Co-op. Here's the store's copy: All are welcome at the Belfast Co-op, Maine's oldest and largest community-owned food cooperative located in scenic downtown, coastal Belfast, since 1976. The Belfast Cooperative Store is a member-owned and controlled retail outlet for whole natural foods and other goods and provisions.

A couple of my favorites from the Co-op this time around:

Oatmeal bread from Daily Bread in Levant, Maine. Big, tall slices, delicious toasted and topped with Kate's Butter or a slice of Cheddar cheese. Ingredients: Unbleached wheat flour, filtered water, oats, organic evaporated cane juice, yeast and sea salt. Half loaf, $3.19; donnasdailybread@yahoo.com; 800.684.8224.
Kate's Sea Salted Butter, from Old Orchard Beach, Maine. Yes, I can also buy it in New Jersey @ Whole Foods Montclair, but I love that it's Maine-made.
Gingerbread Cake from Garnished, a local baker/bakery. Moist, warmly spiced layers flecked with candied ginger and iced with a fluffy blanket of cream-cheese frosting. I love gingerbread, especially around Christmastime. It's so old-fashioned and timeless, even wholesome, somehow. The sales clerk lifted a hefty slice out from under the cake dome on the counter; $4. [I did bring it back to John's house and stretch it out for a couple of days.]
The espresso walnut brownie [just one] from Let Them Eat Cake; $2.69.
Hamel's Hummus [named for farmers Ed and Molly Hamel], fresh from Aqua Terra Farm in Jackson, Maine. Roughly mashed, unlike those mass-produced supermarket smooth ones, and really good with whole-grain crackers. Ingredients: Garbanzo beans, sesame seeds, tahini, olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, herbs, spices, salt. Pricey but memorable: 8 ounces, $6.79; 207.322.7288.
Stone Fox Farm Creamery Ice Cream in Maple Walnut and Chocolate Peppermint. Made in Monroe, Maine; $4.79 per pint. Wish I tried the Eggnog flavor, too.

Feel bad because H., Fig, Sug, John, Leah, Dave and Mike just left for a hike by the water. I can't go because my ankle is recovering. But I will manage to do the short walk to the Co-op and back, because I need some ingredients to make chili for dinner. :)

TCOY

Good night's sleep.
Nice lather with John/Leah's Organix Hydrating Teatree Mint Shampoo. Smelled fresh, felt great.
Read my Christmas book.

10 Little Gifts

2011-12-25T12:38:00.001-05:00

I still remember the year I got Malibu Barbie for Christmas. My own Barbie! She was gorgeous in that seventies way, with long streaked blonde hair and a smooth sun-kissed tan. After all those years of playing with Sis's old Barbies--the 1950s-style ones with bouffants--I finally had my own. I played with her a lot, inside, outside and in my friends' backyards and garages.

Fifth grade to age 50. It goes so fast. But the girl I was back then is still inside me. The children we were are still inside all of us. My Mom and Dad are not there to watch me unwrap my gifts but the goodness they gave me has so much to do with the person I am today.

And with age comes an appreciation of the everyday things, not just on Christmas but always. My Little Gifts list so far for Christmas Day, and it's only 12:15:

Historic, small-town storybook Maine church with old-fashioned pews.
Drive to look at the beautiful bay with H. and Sug on this White Christmas.
Both Santas in my family--the young auburn-haired one and the older elf, who held my hand at church--remembered to put chocolate in my stocking.
My engagement ring back, after over a year! This isn't a little gift, it's really quite big, because one of the emeralds had popped out and had to be replaced. But I am so happy to have it back. It is my everyday pretty accessory.
My swollen ankle feels a little bit better.
Leah's blueberry-oatmeal pancakes, and Figgy doing the dishes.
Fig saying she loves what we got her--the acrylic paints, the canvases, the Abercrombie sweater and PJ bottoms, the bottle of Pink Sugar spray from Sephora.
Talking to Sis on the phone. My good Sis.
Though I can't join the family on a walk now, and I really, really want to, I will rest and read a Christmas book that I brought from home.
Beautiful card from Figgy. Last night going to bed, I thought, She's 16 now. Will she be with us on Christmas Eve for many years to come? Or will she live far away, or be traveling, or be living her own life in her own home? I love that she is right here, so I can crack open the bedroom door to be sure she's breathing, just like I did when she was a little rumpled redhead in her crib.

I wish you a sugar-dusted, snow-topped, icicle-bejeweled, winter sun-dappled day. Merry Christmas and all good wishes.

Ice, Ice, Baby, Ice

2011-12-24T22:42:00.001-05:00

Fell down the outside stairs and slipped on the ice this morning when I went to take Sug out at about 9:30. Right ankle swollen and killing me. But if there is a good place and time for this to happen, I guess this is it, because very nice people have been waiting on me, since they're not at work or school. We're all gathered together. Various elves have been propping a pillow under my foot; getting me hot tea; bringing me ice packs; giving me arnica gel [my sister-in-law Therese and Bonnie are into homeopathic remedies].

It was a nice evening at Mike and Therese's, with H. and all four of his brothers there, and his Mom, too. Spirited decorations, a beautiful tree, a roaring fire in the wood stove, Christmas cookies of every kind. My two nieces made wonderful treats, so it's the passing of the wooden spoon. My cookies looked quite ordinary in comparison. Leah made deep, dark homemade gingerbread cake with whipped cream, plus pumpkin-oatmeal cookies, and Mariah brought a big platter of rich biscotti, butter cookies, brownies and more.

Saying a prayer of thanks this Christmas Eve for the strength our family has shown as we've weathered some tough times this year. We've emerged as best we can. I know that I personally am a little worse for the wear, but wiser, too. Wisdom comes at a price sometimes.

And Dad, I miss you so much. Please watch over us. Love, Alice

Paying My Respects

2011-12-23T10:33:00.001-05:00

Please forgive this morbid post with Christmas just round the corner. This is not about angels and evergreens and shiny silver bells and big white drifts of snow.

I feel so sad, tears almost reaching my keyboard. I am about to drive to the cemetery in Paramus to deliver a little wreath Sis and I got for Dad's grave.

I know, the ones left behind remember the ones who went ahead. That's life, Dad used to say.

Hey Al, he'd say when he phoned me @ work, I made a little Christmas tree for the cemetery, you know, with some clippings from the tree. I'm going to drop it off today.

And off he'd go to put it on my mother's grave. She died in 1981 at 56, almost 57, and he had recently turned 58. He never remarried and as far as I know, never had a girlfriend, either. I should have been a monk, he sometimes said, because he enjoyed quiet and solitude so much.

Now it's my turn. I'm going alone. Sis is in Connecticut--when we went together, the gates were closed because darkness had fallen. H. is doing the last-minute scramble before our drive to Maine, but he will go with me after we return. Fig is in school. I don't want to leave for Maine until I've gone.

I don't have a little tree. Did not have the time or the heart to fashion one, though I probably should have. No, all I have is my heart and my mind and I think I will bring Sugar. That little scamp adored her grandfather so much.

Thank you for listening.

Close but No Candy Cane

2011-12-22T23:30:00.001-05:00

Once again, haven't accomplished quite all of the baking and shopping I hoped to before leaving for 450-mile drive to Christmas in Maine tomorrow afternoon. But I came pretty darn close. And in one case, I think I might make a New Year's Eve cookie delivery if the stars [and the Turtle Bars] are in their courses. Good night.

TCOY

Sug and I took long walk with Barbara and Benz tonight.
Water and tea.
Hot bubble bath.
Follow-up mammogram and ultrasound [probably just routine caution].
Good tooth care.
Stayed calm.

Christmas Dinner with the Family

2011-12-21T22:00:00.002-05:00

Tonight, H., Figgy and I drove into NYC for dinner with Sis, Don, and Don's son Charles, who is in from California, and my brother Will and his pretty blonde fashionista wife, Kelly. We do this every Christmastime. It was really nice. We went to Brio, an Italian restaurant on Broadway @ 21st Street. It is so balmy out, though--doesn't feel like Christmas. We enjoyed our pastas and polenta [yum, ordered it in honor of my grandmother Rosie, who used to make polenta] and drinks and had a lot of laughs.

To Pop, Will said, raising his glass. He was a good man. And we clinked glass against glass, reaching, smiling, laughing, leaning toward one another and remembering our Dad. It was a nice opposite to earlier in the day, when I started sobbing as I was filling the bathtub and couldn't stop, thinking about getting Christmas trees with Dad, driving around to look at colorful lights with him [he especially liked to show me the house over near the Garden State Farms store in New Milford], and just plain talking to him. I miss him so.

Good night.

TCOY

Boot camp in the dome--a lot of sprints.
Walked Sug around block once.
Salon blowout.
Ate mindfully--for at least part of the day.

Hello from Columbus Circle

2011-12-20T14:34:00.023-05:00

Up at 6 A.M. to shower and bake....measuring dark cocoa, drifts of flour, mountains of ice-crystal sugar, and cracking eggs, melting snow-white chocolate...while listening to Christmas music on radio, grateful the DJs were up with me....then pack up cookies with ribbons and bows....and hop on bus to NYC to deliver...also had 11:30 A.M. appt. with Dr. B., and the outlook is dim. Uphill battle. Must exercise more, take better care of myself. Walked all the way back from his office at 85th Street and Madison to here, the Time Warner Center @ Columbus Circle. Dashing off this quick note from Samsung Internet Lounge, then walking to Port Authority to catch bus for appt. with H. in Montclair.

Walked through Central Park. Holiday sightings:

Many big strong horses pulling carriages...the poor beasts looked handsome and/or pretty, but really tired, like they were carrying the holiday world on their shoulders. Their shoes clopped, clopped against the asphalt....I think their feet hurt. I felt sorry for them. Several were wearing circus-style feather plumes, which looked kind of garish against their sturdy workhorse bodies, and one even had a Santa hat flopping down over its brow. I hope they get some shiny, fresh Christmas apples and a good rest later.
Pedicabs en masse, holding tourists, who were holding cameras.
Parents with their kids. Nice. And brothers and sisters, like the two little dark-haired boys I saw...the older one was rubbing the littler one's head, and putting his hand in the hood of his jacket.

Have to dash or will miss bus....

TCOY

Used special serum on my face--bought at spa in Colorado. A little Colorado in a bottle.
Please see above. Walked from Port Authority to 57th and Eighth Ave., then from 85th and Madison through Central Park to Columbus Circle.
Went to Dr. B. Faced facts--and music. Want to get back on healthy track.
At Dean & DeLuca, got two very good two-bite cookies instead of a big doughy doughnut or cupcake.
Lots and lots of ice water.
Private Benjamin.

Cocoa in the House

2011-12-19T22:56:00.005-05:00

Went to Whole Foods Montclair tonight for Valrhona cocoa powder, imported from France and sold by the pound--needed for batch of biscotti tomorrow. Also doing Turtle Bars from Four Midwestern Sisters' Christmas Book. Too tired to bake right now, so am going to go to bed and set alarm early, in the hopes that I will be more energetic and less stressed out then. Figgy was home sick from school with a stomach virus, H. asked me to drive him into the city since he had two parties to work in midtown and it would be pricey to park there [btw, the gridlock was bad], and I have a doctor's appt. tomorrow and very dirty hair, which I have to wash right now. Part of today's stress: stopped by cop for talking on cell phone on Route 3 back to NJ. He gave me a warning, and said he may or may not give me the $130 ticket. He yelled at me. I don't blame him. I really want to/have to stop talking on my cell, multi-tasking while putting others at risk.

Good night.

TCOY

Boot camp in the soccer dome. Did enjoy throwing football and kicking soccer ball.
Ice water.
Tried to eat mindfully.
Cried for Dad in car. Missing him. Letting tears out must be a way to TCOY.
Hauled lots of recycling out of our house and out to the curb. Feel lighter.
Picked up and put down Newman's Own ginger sandwich cookies @ Whole Foods, remembering how I ate the whole pack last time--and blogged about it.
Walked Sug around block once.
Burning pretty candy-cane striped tapers.
Not baking tonight! Going to sleep. Should be less stressful this way, I hope, and I will be less likely to drop a cookie tray or burn a batch. I have the kitchen all set up to go, and red tulips in a Christmas pitcher.

Eggnogged Out

2011-12-18T23:48:00.004-05:00

Figgy had about 12 friends over for a Christmas party, and we invited a few of their parents, too. I made eggnog [you make a safe cooked custard base, so no raw egg worries], butter cookies, gingerbread cookies and red velvet cupcakes. We had a big spiral-cut Smithfield ham, fresh mozzarella and Parkerhouse rolls from the Marlboro Inn Bake Shoppe on Grove Street in Montclair. Figgy decorated in a pretty red and gold scheme. Sug begged everyone near the table for ham--even after she had a china plateful, like the dog in "How the Grinch Stole Christmas." We are all really tired now. H. and I got up at 8 and worked all day, between cleaning, serving and cleaning up. Entertaining takes its toll.

Good night.

TCOY

Didn't overeat in face of abundant holiday treats..
Good tooth care.

Rocky Mountain High

2011-12-17T02:02:00.045-05:00

This is not an ad. Steamboat Springs, Colorado on December 16, 2011.

Left to right: Professional driver Gordon; daredevil Larry Hoff; me; and Kevin.

Today was great. I did well on the snowy driving challenge this morning--at least Gordon, the professional driver in the passenger seat, said so, and I felt it, too. But I was nervous at the start. You can see the caravan of GMCs in the third photo from top. Journalists were placed in cars with professional drivers, and we took turns at the wheel.

We drove up to an 8,000 feet altitude, climbing to and through gorgeous nature. We call this a local secret, Gordon said of the majestic mountains and the less-traveled road. On one straight, snowy stretch, he then told me to Floor the engine and now stomp on the brake, really stomp on it, make believe a kid just ran out in front of you, chasing a ball--so I could see how the ABS [anti-lock braking system] in the 2012 GMC Terrain works. After all, this is a GMC Terrain press trip. And it worked really well. The tires also offer really good traction. I felt safe, much, much safer than when I took the wheel of our Volvo wagon in a blizzard once driving back from Maine. The Terrain is about $33,000 and truly looks and feels way pricier and more luxurious than that, with heated leather seats and lots of bells and whistles. I think our 2005 Honda CR-V was in the mid $twenties. I would definitely switch to this if and when we need another car.

Colorado High-Country

Along the way, saw amazing Colorado things. Only peeked out of the corner of my eye because didn't want to lose control on winding mountain road. But when Larry took his turn at the wheel, I could study the scenery. Really liked:

Sleeping Giant Mountain.
The Clark Store in small town Clark--sells everything from liquor with holiday bows on top to deer game bags.
Aspen trees [like birches, Gordon said].
Signs for Moon Hill Highlands; Elk River Road; Wheeler Creek; and Lower Deep Creek.
Cows and cows and cows--horses, too.

Back-to-Nature Beauty

It gets better. The journalists on this trip could choose a winter sport in the afternoon, and many headed to the hills to ski or snowmobile. But you could also opt for a facial or massage in the Rocky Mountain Day Spa here at the Sheraton, and several of us did. I loved the facial by Amanda. I even bought a bottle of Stone Crop Serum [organic skin care] and the awesome lip treatment Amanda put on me.

Dashing through the Snow

Then, a little rest, and meet in the lobby 5:30 P.M. for a gondola ride up the mountain, then everyone piled into a big sleigh that was pulled even higher up to Ragnar's, this cozy Scandinavian-style mountain-top restaurant, where we had red wine, cheese, really good flatbread crackers, comforting entrees and deep, dark chocolate fondue. The sleigh ride was amazing. I loved it. The snow-covered trees were beautiful. We had blankets to cover us. It was cold, cold under those stars.

Charity, our guide, said she's seen foxes and ermine up in the mountains. The little white ermine blend with the white snow, but you notice the little black tip of their tails, she said.

I saw a shooting star on the ride back down after dinner.

I wished my H. had been along to share it, too. So memorable, so once-in-a-lifetime.

Colorful Colleagues

I would love to write more, about the camaraderie, the smarts, the laughs, the bloggers and writers I met from California, North Carolina, Maine and Michigan. About Joe and Kelly, from GMC's Detroit office, and McKenna and Charles, from NYC. About the carols Mike sang on the sleigh ride back. About the older couple in the restaurant at a table for two, who were feeding each other spoons of food and stroking each other's hands like honeymooners. About the cowboy who sang us great old songs while we ate: John Denver's "Annie's Song" and a Cat Stevens tune, too. About Bill, who makes dry, funny jokes. About Gordon calling today's sunshine weather a "bluebird day," a phrase I plan to adopt and soon. About the warming cocktails, including the Brandy Alexander nightcap by the lobby fireplace tonight.

But I want to get some rest before flying back tomorrow. Good night.

Photos taken by Matt, hired by GMC.

TCOY

Lots of Colorado ice water.
Facial!
Nap with balcony door open, to breathe mountain air.
Stargazing from sleigh; so pretty.

A Few of My Favorite Things Out West

2011-12-16T00:09:00.007-05:00

Had a little free time to explore Steamboat Springs this afternoon. Took the free Sheraton shuttle into town and the free transit bus back. Quick ride. Colorful sightings:

Apple Chaider [cider and Chai, I gather; didn't order one] served at the Steaming Bean Coffee Co. on Lincoln Avenue. Also, hot cocoa and hot apple cider offered in urns in hotel lobby. This is ski country for sure.
Sew Steamboat, a really cute sewing store, also on Lincoln Ave. The flouncy, home-sewn holiday aprons on dress forms outside caught my eye. I bought a pretty red and green cotton Christmas one to wear for years to come, God willing, and transport me back to Colorado when I bake cookies in New Jersey, as I soon will. :) I also really loved the upstairs, where I went to try the apron on. They have sewing classes there, and people gather to stitch and chat. Figgy would love that.
Dinner at Café Diva. OMG, it was good. The wine kept flowing, and my favorite parts of the meal were: Blue Corn Tostada appetizer; local Bison [like tender steak] with mashed Yukon Golds and haricots verts; shared desserts, including Salted Caramel Cheesecake and Divamisu, made with chocolate-dipped lady fingers, amaretto-mascarpone gelato and awesome espresso crème anglaise; and cappuccino in an elegant white cup. Really special. The company was great; interesting journalists and GMC's communication team. You know how I know SO MUCH about chocolate and dessert cookbooks? They know detail after detail about cars: hybrids, MPG, exterior colors, what specifically differentiates one car from another within the same company. I am rubbing elbows with car geniuses.
The Old West feeling. Kind of a trading-post feel in town. Some classic stores that have been here forever, and many shops selling ski gear; Uggs; fly-fishing equipment; leather vests; and more. And, when you look up: Gorgeous mountains rising from the land. Younger people calling me ma'am. I am not in New York anymore.
Off the Beaten Path. Given the chance, I know I'd spend more time there. They carry new and "gently used" books and have a coffee bar. And it was one of several stores in town with gift wrap rolls and tape dispensers front and center, ready for store elves to wrap up purchases.

TCOY

Did get some exercise and fresh air walking around town.
Lots of Colorado ice water.
About to get good night's sleep.

Postcard from Steamboat Springs

2011-12-15T15:44:00.002-05:00

What a beautiful state Colorado is. Have to do a tiny bit of work on this laptop and then going out to explore and breathe the mountain air. Tomorrow we have an early start, 7:30 A.M. winter driving instruction in classroom begins. By 8:30 we head out for the Wilderness Course: On-road mountain driving with professional driver in GMC with us. There will be about 20 journalists/media people here. Larry Hoff is from Connecticut and does a syndicated adventure TV show. He has ridden a bull, been shot out of a cannon, flown a plane. Are you ready to put the pedal to the metal tomorrow? he asked. He and his cameraman, Kevin, were cracking me up on the ride from the airport. Um, I think I'm ready. I hope I'm ready.

I liked seeing horses and an old barn and a river and pretty mountains on the drive from the airport. And I liked the men in cowboy hats who were there as we got off the plane, and the cookies and mini candy canes that were served inside the terminal--to welcome us.

More later.

TCOY

Ate just half of that almond croissant for breakfast at Newark Airport this morning. Threw half out; it wasn't worth the calories, anyway.
Got nuts for a snack in flight.

A Driving Desire to See Steamboat Springs

2011-12-15T00:01:00.003-05:00

Leaving @ 5:15 A.M. to catch a 7 o'clock flight to Steamboat Springs, CO [changing planes in Chicago]. GM has invited a group of journalists who write about cars and car maintenance to test-drive the new GMC in the snowy mountains, and to take a class about driving safely in winter weather. We'll also go on a sleigh ride to a mountaintop restaurant for dinner, and do other nice things. I'll be gone two nights, back by Saturday night.

I can't wait to see Steamboat Springs. Never mind that I've gotten some ribbing from Moey and Patsy about how the professional driver in the car with me better watch out, because I can be a little unpredictable or nerve-wracking at the wheel sometimes. I'm sure that driver will be well prepared.

More to come. Good night.

TCOY

Boot camp in the park. So nice outside today.
Salon blowout.
Annual holiday party Patsy throws for boot campers. Really fun.

Into NYC for a Sobering Reason

2011-12-14T00:08:00.003-05:00

Just returned from NYC, where Patsy, Nicky and I went for the Upper East Side wake of our boot camp friend Lisa's beloved Dad. Lisa is tiny but mighty, a fast sprinter across that field, the petite mother of three well-mannered young boys. Her family is so close, and her Dad died young....65. Our boot camp group has been collectively worried about her, since it was a long, intense illness. Lisa couldn't make it to boot camp for months; she was at her Dad's side as much as possible. So boot camp went to Lisa's house. We started a dinner chain, and took turns bringing everything from lasagna [Heidi] to chicken cutlets [Patsy], often with sides and fixings.

After the wake ended around 9 P.M., Nicky, Patsy and I ducked into Serafina on Madison Avenue and 79th Street--I'd walked by it a million times but never been in. We had wine and good bread dipped in delicious olive oil, then shared salmon and tuna tartare; thin-crust margherita pizza; and penne with tomatoes and pine nuts. All very, very good. For a sweet ending, Nicky ordered affogato [I read that the word means drowned in Italian], in this case, chocolate ice cream with a wave of espresso poured over, and three spoons. Nice. Total cost for each of us, counting generous tip: $42. Not bad. And even better since we had a free parking space right in front of the restaurant.

I have to go to bed so I can get up early and work, revising, clarifying and strengthening a story outline to send my editor. Good night.

TCOY

Iced coffee.
Private Benjamin.
H. took care of me, too. He, Fig and Sug were asleep by time I got home, but he left one of my favorite movies, White Christmas, playing on the TV in the living room. He knows how much I love it.

Failed Christmas Cookies

2011-12-12T22:39:00.006-05:00

So far this season, I've baked the butter cookie cutouts I've been making since high school and tonight, a new recipe for winter spice sandwich cookies with an orange cream-cheese filling. And I have to tell you, neither batch was stellar. Sometimes, the cookies you pull from the oven are golden and glorious, or moist and rich, or the perfect balance of flavors.

That has not been happening. This does not bode well for my cookie-baking season. I hope I can turn things around, and fast. Santa's on his way.

Good night.

P.S. Wait! Hold the reins there a minute. It's not cookies, but I did make the Peppermint Patty Cake from the gorgeous new [to me] cookbook Chocolate Cakes, by Elinor Klivans. Brought cake to George and Lydia's party, after decorating dark rich top with striped peppermints. People seemed to like it.

TCOY

Boot camp in the park.
Walked Sug around block twice. And it was hard to do the second loop, tonight. It's uphill half the way. But it must be good for Puff's heart--and mine.
Tried to remain calm in face of drama that could affect our family.
Worked.
Subway sandwich on grain bread.
H. and I picked out an area rug for our living room at Pottery Barn. Over 1 year since we moved back into our home. And we brought it back in the car, unrolled it and put it down. We like it.
Mammogram.
Well, I would list 'started cookie baking,' b/c I'd like to pace myself and not get overstressed. But please see main entry above. Not too tickled with results. And with cookies, results matter.

2 Weeks Before Christmas

2011-12-11T22:36:00.009-05:00

My Sunday Christmas List:

The tree is up and it looks pretty. H. bought it today with Figgy and Punch. We are so far ahead of last year, when we got the tree late, put the lights on, but didn't even decorate it until after we got home from our long Christmas in Maine. Crazy, I know. That's the kind of year it was.
I went to church. Liked Advent wreath. [2 purple and 1 pink candle lit. Partial to the pink one.]
Ate mindfully...even the bagel, the pumpkin pie.
Walked Sug around block with H. in bracing cold.
Sis and Don came to visit!
Drove to cemetery to put a Christmas wreath on Dad's grave, but it was dark already at 5:03, and the cemetery closes at dusk. So we paused at the tall black iron gates and pledged to go back another time.
H. made a quick dinner--ready-roast chicken, sliced tomatoes, bread, fresh mozzarella, veggies--and we ate it on my parents' elegant wedding china [MADE IN OCCUPIED JAPAN, as it says in small caps on the back of every piece].
It's comforting to see all of Christmas again--things I've had since I was a little girl, gifts from Catholic school: a small plastic statue of an angel bending over Baby Jesus in the crib, and a tiny wooden angel in a purple robe. One of her arms is broken off at the elbow. But she's still beautiful.

Tidings of comfort and joy. Good night.

Christmas in the Neighborhood

2011-12-11T01:02:00.001-05:00

George and Lydia's holiday party tonight, five houses up the block. Every year, they throw a lavish Christmas celebration. The tree was so lovely, with fluffy white ornaments...the bar was well-stocked. The food was blue-ribbon, from Lydia's pulled pork on tender rolls to Paige's decadent truffles. We all talked, clinked glasses, caught up on things. So grateful for the nice neighbors on our block, and for Lydia and George, throwing open their door every year to lucky us.

Good night.

TCOY

Private Benjamin, and good tooth care. That's about all I can muster up today.

Cooking with Wholegrains: Corn Pone

2011-12-10T00:08:00.014-05:00

Simple and smart: Check it out.

I was at Watchung Booksellers recently for a holiday fundraiser; 20 percent of retail sales that night went to Toni's Kitchen, to help feed the homeless and hungry.

I got a couple of nice gifts, one for H., one for Figgy, and Joan Didion's Blue Nights, which I'm loving. Then, being the cookbook collector I am, I combed and combed the cookbook shelves. I already own a lot of them, and tried to resist others, which were too pricey or too narrow in focus [cupcakes, or salads]. Then, there it was, calling out to me: A slim, 72-page paperback volume that was first published in 1951 [the year my parents married] and has a great intro by high-profile cookbook author Deborah Madison, who wrote Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. Price: $12. Here's the amazon link. I just saw it there for $1.09! And it was already a steal @ $12.

Cooking with Wholegrains is by Mildred Ellen Orton, a Vermonter who just died in 2010 at age 99. The subtitle: How to make breads, rolls, cakes, scones, crackers, muffins and desserts, using only stone-ground wholegrains.

Last night, I made the Corn Pone recipe on page 50. I had all ingredients on hand. It couldn't have been easier. I hope Mildred won't mind, but here it is, paraphrased:

Mix together 1 cup cornmeal*, 3/4 teaspoon salt, 3/8 teaspoon baking soda. Stir in 1 cup buttermilk and mix well. Heat butter and/or canola oil in skillet [cast-iron works well]. Drop dollops of batter on hot pan. When one side is brown, turns cakes over and brown other side. And here is her direct quote: These are delicious served with butter in place of bread with any meal, or with maple syrup, honey or applesauce they make a nice breakfast or luncheon dish.

I love corn, H. said when he saw them. I knew he would love them. He wants me to put whole corn kernels in next time, but I'm not sure...

Night.

*I don't know if my Quaker Yellow Cornmeal qualifies as stoneground, but I figure it's close enough.

TCOY

Boot camp in the park. Stations [running cones, jumping, ball slams, boxing and more] plus running the steps.
Caught up on sleep, since worked till 2:30ish A.M.
Ice water.
Faced music and tackled work; emailed my editor and set up phone interview with source for Monday.
Sent out resumes to two more magazine contacts.
Read.
Talked to H.'s brother John, up in Maine, about our planned Christmas visit and how not to be a pain in his home. Clear communication and clear expectations should make our visit go more smoothly. John [and his daughter, Leah, too] is so golden-hearted to always welcome us.
Did some Christmas shopping, since had to drive Fig to mall anyway to meet her friend; felt good to pace myself and get some done. Got excellent sales on high-quality brands, to boot.
Threw out that bag of hot tortilla chips from Mexican place in food court before ate the whole thing.
Walked Sug around block under night sky. On way back, saw Dad--a hardy, plump grown bunny rabbit--out on the grass. On December 9!!! I know he was checking in on us.

Finally, Sleep!

2011-12-09T02:03:00.003-05:00

Must hit hay so have energy for boot camp tomorrow. Worked hard on two story deadlines till now; have a lot of research on my plate tomorrow. That's OK. Also had to take Fig to doctor and attend Junior Parent Night at Montclair High, where the head of guidance is easing us all into the college-app process so next year doesn't come as a shock. Funny to sit there in the cafeteria with parents I've known since our kids were in preschool--back then, we were parked on the tiny chairs at Watchung Co-op. H. had to work; glad I went, and took notes. Nothing is set in stone, Mr. Scott White told us to remember as the app process starts to take form. Sounds like smart advice.

Good night.

TCOY

Latte.
Leftover half of veggie burger sandwich for lunch.
Read Blue Nights a little, and also brought it to read in doctor's waiting room.
Walked Sug around block once.
Made healthy dinner.

The Gift of Perspective

2011-12-07T23:28:00.004-05:00

I can't think a lot about all I have to do/want to do before December 25: parties, shopping, wrapping, decorating, baking. Cookies to deliver. It's daunting to consider the whole big glittering red holiday ball. The one that should be perfect and polished and cheerful. And then there are the things I hope to do every year but never get around to, like taking cookies to wonderful Dr. Cameron, the town vet who saved Sug's life years ago.

I know: It's good stuff, not dark stuff. Baking buttery Christmas trees with chocolate swags is a good thing; trimming evergreen boughs is a good thing. Look at Dad, at the end of his life last year--the healthy, strong man who hung Christmas lights and sent Godiva chocolate to friends and family was stuck in bed, weak. I'm sure he wished he could still do all that. I miss him so much.

I will try and keep it all in perspective. I will do my professional work, which is pressing. Can't ignore that.

And tomorrow, I will take a few minutes to make a list of holiday work on vintage Christmas paper that I can post and eye with hope rather than panic. If I can better time the chores, I will be better able to enjoy them. If I can parcel out some serenity, I may be able to give myself the gift of a calmer Christmas.

Good night.

TCOY

Since I was too tired to go to boot camp [I hate to skip it!], I brought my umbrella to the park and took a longish walk, even though it was pouring rain.
Reading Blue Nights by Joan Didion. Excellent.
Healthy lunch: White-bean veggie burger on whole-grain bread from Little Phil's in Upper Montclair. Saved half for tomorrow.
Steamed broccoli to serve with dinner.

The Fig Newtons Are in the Milkbox

2011-12-06T16:11:00.004-05:00

The silver metal milkbox on our stoop is left from when we used to get milk delivered in old-fashioned glass bottles. [We stopped after some bottles froze when we were away for a few wintry days. It got wasteful.]

We keep the box there for various reasons. It's handy to step on when hanging Christmas lights, we stash some garden tools in it, and sometimes leave a key for a neighbor to water our plants.

But on this rainy Tuesday, the Original Fig Newtons are in the milkbox. I put them there when I found myself unable to stop eating them. They are so soft and uniform, perfectly shaped little packages with exactly even amounts of filling. Old-time, comforting kid food. Fair and square, even-steven, all is right with the world.

I haven't bought them in a while precisely because I find them hard to stop eating, but they caught my eye at CVS last night when I went to wait for an Rx.

And now I remember: As a high school girl, eating a full sleeve once after school from a four-sleeve pack of store-brand fig bars. John, my mother said later to my dad with alarm, look how many of these Alice ate.

And then: Living on my own by the Jersey Shore, doing my laundry at the Busy B's Launderette and buying one of those boxes of a single sleeve of Newtons. I shared a couple with Kathleen, the kind grandmother who owned the place. Home again, with washing machines, dryers, stacks of clean clothing. No mother to watch [Mom was gone by then, and plus, I lived 1 1/2 hours from Dumont], but Newtons to eat.

But now those bad boys are banished again, and not a moment too soon. I had eaten more than a full row by lunchtime.

Keyboard Nightcap: Quick Report

2011-12-05T23:37:00.003-05:00

Hitting the hay. Hard work in many ways today. Just wonderin': Will my life ever be easy again, like when I was young?

Good night to you.

TCOY

Boot camp in the park! Made myself go, made myself exercise.
Decaf latte.
Walked Sug around block once.
Listened to Christmas music, and sang along.
Nap.
Faced music, tough stuff.
Made butternut squash soup with fresh thyme.

North Polar Opposites

2011-12-04T22:06:00.008-05:00

Sleigh Ride, with Santa and reindeer Rockettes.

The Radio City Christmas Spectacular today, 5 P.M:

Santa, so roly-poly, happy and philosophical when he crosses candy-cane paths with busy Mom, Tracy, and her daughter, Kayla, during a visit to his department store throne. The message: Mom thinks getting Kayla the hot toy of the year will make her happy but Santa knows that what really matters is that they spend fun time together. He flies them to the North Pole to prove it.
Rockettes' beautiful, glittery, gorgeous costumes.
Foot-tapping, hand-clapping holiday music.
Cheer, peace, hope.

My life last night/today:

I also lean toward the roly-poly but am not currently happy and philosophical. I try, God knows I try. I am a mom who knows how important it is to spend fun time with my daughter. I always have. But this weekend, things have been rough. My smile was strained and tight. Even the amazing "Here Comes Santa Claus" act, with dozens of dancing, multiplying Santas, did not warm my heart as much as it usually does.
My purple corduroy pants. Enough said.
Playing Bill Withers' song "Lean on Me" a few times in a row, for moral support.
Well, being the eternal optimist, I still feel ribbons of cheer, peace, hope.

Good night.

TCOY

Put away tons of clean wash and threw out a lot of garbage. Felt good.
At Starbucks, got tall ice water when Figgy got a skinny mocha. Stopped and realized I was thirsty, not in need of the caffeine and calories in my typical Starbucks choices.
I later had an Irish coffee! In a glass mug, with that inviting, old-fashioned froth on top. Sis took me and Fig to lunch before the show @ an Irish pub on 47th Street. I am normally a light drinker at best. But today I got the Irish coffee, just one, to drown my sorrows, and to clink against Sis's flute of champagne. I think the warmth and the whiskey did help mellow the spirit. Forgive me if you don't drink; I don't mean to glorify the power of alcohol.

Christmas Cheer

2011-12-03T00:36:00.004-05:00

Susan had her annual party tonight...so lovely. She always wears a beautiful dress--tonight's was black satin with a halter neckline, accessorized with a pearl necklace and shiny red pumps--and her mom, Alice, wears a floor-length holiday skirt, festive and pretty. The table is always laden with Brie, and quiche, and wine. Tonight, flames blazed in the outdoor fire pit* and many of us gathered round it, looking up at the starry sky and out at the Manhattan skyline.

The gathering is always on a December Saturday, and every year except one, H. was booked to work at a holiday party, so I've had to go solo. Since Susan did a Friday this year, H. was free. It was really nice to have him there. Going by myself gets old.

Tonight there was stollen, and a big baked ham and red candles flickering. Yes, the Christmas season is officially here.

TCOY

Emailed resume and article clips to four editors, feeling the water for a staff job at a magazine, 12 {!!!!!} years after I left Good Housekeeping to work from home and be with Figgy more..
Boot camp in the park. Hard runs up steps. Out of breath.
Ice water.
Walked Sug around block once.

*H. wants to get one now. We heard they're sold at Lowe's and Target.

Holiday Open House at Rabbit Rabbit in Montclair til 10 P.M.

2011-12-01T15:10:00.003-05:00

If you live in Montclair, pull your sleigh up to Rabbit Rabbit Home Decor on Lorraine Avenue near Valley Road [just around the corner from Murph's Sport Shop]. I wish I had more money to spend, because they have really pretty candles and furnishings and gift ideas.

Ever since Catherine and Kelly helped us choose our new paint colors when our house was rebuilt after the tree fall, I am even more devoted to these chic home stylistas at Rabbit Rabbit. And also, I met co-owner Donna at the deli at Kings just now and that reminded me, too. :)

TCOY

Rode my pink beach cruiser bike to town to do my errands, etc.
Salon blowout. Helped smooth the bumps in my day, yes it did.
Asparagus. That counts, right?

Lady Who Lunches + Shop Local

2011-11-30T21:49:00.016-05:00

Lady Who Lunches

So I went to Bar Americain for lunch with Brad from communications firm Thatcher + Co. [turns out he lives here in Montclair] and Art, who is the VP of California-based CarMD.

Since I've written a couple of Drive Down Your Car Costs articles for Good Housekeeping, this meeting was like panning for gold. It sparks ideas for me, and will help me mold future story pitches to my editors. Facts fortify a pitch. And it always helps to put a face to a name, especially when the contact lives 3,000 miles away.

Now for the lunch. It was a working lunch--i.e., I was taking notes in my Lilly Pulitzer notebook about car repair and diagnostic tools for much of the time--but it was delicious. I've never been to any of Bobby Flay's restaurants. I had the special of the day--the filet mignon sandwich--and it came with the silver cup of fries with the special seasoned [chipotle?] mayonnaise. So good. They sell all of the chef's cookbooks there and I was tempted to buy one, b/c Art said his kids made the pumpkin pie from one of them, and it was really good. But with Christmas upon us, resisted.

Loved the energy of my city...and your city. It's really everyone's city. It was crowded--the Rockefeller Center tree lighting was tonight. It was almost too crowded, with the jostling and all. I noticed little things, like that the McDonald's in Times Square is open 24 hours [really?]; that the M&M's World store seems kind of junky and overpriced [sorry]; and that it's impossible to walk by Sardi's and the Broadway theaters and not feel excited, even if you're not going into either one.

Shop Local Montclair

Before it gets too late in the season, wanted to share some favorite SHOP LOCAL Montclair gift ideas:

Tosti Pizzelle. Ever since I saw Lady Gaga talking on her Thanksgiving TV special about making pizzelle [Italian wafer/waffle cookies] with her grandfather, I've been in the mood for them. The locally made Tosti anise cookies are amazing. What an enticing perfume. In lemon, vanilla, chocolate, almond and orange, too. One big waffle cookie is 50 calories and quite good. I now want a pizzelle iron. 9-ounce box [about 13 cookies], $4.99; Kings supermarket, Valley Road.
Kiehl's beauty boosters. They really do feel luscious, from the Creme de Corps Soy Milk & Honey Whipped Body Butter to the Creamy Eye Treatment with Avocado, and you don't have to drive to Bloomingdale's at Willowbrook Mall or the Kiehl's store in Garden State Plaza to get them. Chelsea Square, the little shop across from the Upper Montclair town clock, has the line, and its cult following, too. Storeowner Vicki is friendly and helpful. Valley Road; free gift wrapping.
Watchung Booksellers. They have the hot/cool/must-have Moleskine line of notebooks now, plus CDs. I bought the "A Very She & Him Christmas" CD there. Bookstore on Watchung Plaza; free gift wrapping.
Whole Foods. Lake Champlain Chocolates***. They're pricey, no doubt, but this is the only place around where I've been able to find them when I can't drive seven hours to Burlington, Vermont. I haven't checked the Montclair store's chocolate stock lately, but plan to today.

TCOY

Boot camp in the park under gorgeous sky.
Walked to and from restaurant on 52nd St. from Port Authority.
Nice walk tonight with Fig and Sug, night sky so lovely.
Listening to She & Him CD on my laptop as I write. Music truly is a way to TCOY.

***Ooooops, just went to Whole Foods Montclair today, Saturday 12/3, to check the shelves, and could only find one sack of Lake Champlain Chocolates. I hope they will get more, but not sure.

Hello from Sheraton Hotel, 52nd Street

2011-11-30T14:55:00.010-05:00

Just had a business lunch at Bobby Flay's Bar Americain on 52nd Street. More details later. For now, suffice it to say that I had a buttery filet mignon sandwich and to finish, bourbon praline profiterole. But I wandered over here because I need a quiet place to do a phone interview for an article I'm writing. This Sheraton lobby looks good, and even has a nice internet lounge. Sure beats the times I've balanced my notepad on tiny, awkward payphone shelves at the Plaza Hotel and the Port Authority, scribbling furiously while standing.

Then, bus back to Montclair.

Oh, did I mention that yesterday was a very hard day? That's one reason why I was so happy to hop on the bus, Gus, and motor into my beloved New York.

But I'll be back home in time to be regular me by dinner.

Sending love and energy from the land of plenty.

Yesterday's Holiday Mystery Quiz Winners

2011-11-30T08:33:00.001-05:00

I come from a quirky family. My mom put Clearasil in our red stockings.

Thank you for the guesses, Lin, Kim and Lisa!

Holiday Mystery Quiz: Guess and I'll Mail You a Dollar

The winners [pls. see their answers in yesterday's Comments section] are my cousin Lin and my friend Kim. I will be mailing them their prizes. And Lisa's answer cracked me up: Santa Claus's emergency Xmas eve supplies....he's replaced the reindeer with a Prius.

The answer is:

Things Dad Wanted for Christmas

[H. guessed too, but in person. I don't know whether to mail him a dollar. :) And my dear Sis surely guessed, but it's her policy not to comment on blogs. She likes to be elusive like that, and also feels too busy to start posting comments.]

Anyway, it's the first Christmas in my life that I won't be shopping for a gift for Dad. He requested all of those things over the years, including the windshield washer fluid. I have a feeling that every year I will pause and reflect at the gallons of blue car juice in CVS, which is what started this whole thing yesterday morning.

Have a good day!

Holiday Mystery Quiz: Guess and I'll Mail You a Dollar

2011-11-29T10:07:00.010-05:00

Santa image to inspire you.

If you can guess what I've listed below, I will mail you a dollar. For example, is it Things I've Donated to the Christmas Giving Tree at Church? Or maybe Truman Capote's Favorite Presents? Or 10 Quirky Items My Friend Anne has Found at Goodwill? Or what else could it be?

All answers due by midnight tonight, Tuesday, November 29, 2011. If you win, I will post your name tomorrow and ask you to email me your address privately so I can send you a dollar bill. Multiple winners accepted. Thank you for making me smile.

Small dish rack.
Blue windshield washer fluid.
Twizzlers.
Prosciutto and provolone.
Slippers.
Electric shaver.
Shaving cream.
Shirt with size 17 or 17 1/2 neck.
Supp-Hose Support Over the Calf Socks.

TCOY

Trying hard to remember that TCOY [take care of yourself] is vital. Cannot always help/make others take care of themselves, but can TCOY. So: Walked four laps at Edgemont Park this morning. Breathed deep, liked trees [weeping willow, holly and others].
Mailed family's monthly $1,000-plus Horizon Blue Cross Blue Shield health insurance bill @ P.O.--it's due by tomorrow [in Newark] or it cancels. Hoping to get it in under the wire to skirt $25 reinstatement fee.

Check My New Family Money Article in Good Housekeeping Magazine

2011-11-28T21:43:00.006-05:00


Sweet bonus: On page 156, my friend Cathy Lo's Chocolate-Almond Meringues.

Please check out my article in Good Housekeeping Magazine--December 2011 issue. It's called "Shop Smarter This Season" [page 103].

Did you score some great Black Friday, Black Saturday or Cyber Monday deals? The frenzy also gave me a push to shop early in my local stores, where I bought H. the soap on a rope he always loves for Christmas [it's hard to find, and I wouldn't write about it here if I thought he'd read this*] and cute gifts for my niece and nephew and the Toys for Tots drive.

Good night.

TCOY

Boot camp in the park. But I felt that pecan pie with whipped cream. Sure did.
Walked Sug around block once with H. and once alone, under pretty evening sky.
Raked and hauled leaves again.

*H. only reads my blog sporadically, and often, I think, when I'm traveling .:)

Sunday-Night Tired

2011-11-27T22:53:00.001-05:00

Too sleepy to write. Good night.

TCOY

Read The New Yorker a little [Talk of the Town]--a luxury.
Raked and hauled leaves with Punch and H. Wanted to take quick bike ride, but raking counts as exercise, too.
Dinner at our friends' home.

Saturday Night TV

2011-11-26T22:37:00.006-05:00

You're gonna make it after all.

I rarely have time for TV. I'm usually too busy, too tired or the remote is in the hand of the man who lives here, or Figgy, and I don't want to watch what's on. [H. has laughed at "Groundhog Day" and hung on every word of "The Godfather" a zillion times. They must be like cookies and milk for him--familiar and comforting.]

But tonight, Fig is babysitting 6:30 to 12:30 and H. is working at a party. So here I am, comfy on the couch, Sug in exhausted position on the overstuffed chair.

I channel surfed, and I liked it. Found light, romantic "27 Dresses" and funny "Everybody Loves Raymond" reruns, then "Meet the Parents."

As a teen, I loved watching "The Mary Tyler Moore Show" with my parents, and Bob Newhart and Carol Burnett. We three sat and laughed on the cracked black fake-leather couch, sometimes holding bowls of Sealtest rocky road ice cream. That memory makes me happy.

Good night.

TCOY

Walked Sug around block once.
Raked and bagged leaves with H.--for fresh air, exercise and to do a big chore together.
Made nice soup with that jar of Williams-Sonoma organic butternut squash puree bought on Black Friday.

Anxiety Dream

2011-11-26T09:59:00.001-05:00

The bad dream: H. and I were going to be in a championship golf tournament, playing against Alan Alda and someone else. Two against two. In Hawaii, where it was very, very pretty and there were cute kittens, one of whom was trying to get me to adopt it. The tournament was to be heavily publicized--and televised.

Sheer terror: I've never golfed unless you count mini golf at the Red Barn on Cape Cod [and once at Arnold's], and I'm not particularly good at it. Never once got it in clown's mouth at end, to win free game. [But our friend Michael did.]

So glad it was not real. But does this mean that H. and I have to learn to do something really hard? Play as a team in front of others, and with each other? Teamwork is not always our strong point...hmmmm...and the kitten...was that our Figgy?

Yes, it's all coming together now....

Black Friday

2011-11-26T00:36:00.005-05:00

Figgy and I were:

up 5:30 A.M.. to drive to cash machine, pick up her friend Olivia and get free medium coffees at Quick Chek. [FREE COFFEE on Black Friday! the sign said. I got nice hot cocoa with whip--free!]. I'm a Starbucks snob, wouldn't normally consider QC, but it's right near the high school, so Fig and friends go there often at lunch and she loves the pumpkin-flavored coffee. I may venture there in the future. Couldn't believe DIY selection of milk and cream to add: soy milk; organic whole milk; lactose-free milk; cream; creamer; flavored creamer; and even whipped cream in a can. That takes it over the top.
at Garden State Plaza in Paramus by official opening time of 7 A.M. though I heard now that JCPenney there was open @ 4 A.M.? Lot was pretty full @ 6:59.
in that mall for five hours, count them, five. Olivia and I had a hard time extracting that passionate fashionista in the polka dot shirt and Santa-red sweats. I did find it fun and exhilarating, but of course had cap on $$ to spend.
happy with the bargains we got. My favorite was spend $100 at Neiman Marcus and get $50 NM gift card. I used it to buy a nice Christmas gift for H. But Williams-Sonoma had some pretty deep discounts, too. I saw a man buying 12 tall jars of Organic Butternut Squash Puree, so I got two. He said his wife makes the soup on the label and it is so good. Regularly $12.95; on sale for $3.99.

Must sleep. Good night.

TCOY

Took big cup of ice water on drive to mall.
Walked Sug around block once.
Gave blood. I want to get back to making time for this. Today they told me you can safely give every two months.
Saw Moey and Ted for dinner at our house.

Dadless @ 10:30 A.M.

2011-11-24T11:04:00.003-05:00

I miss Dad. He was here every Thanksgiving of my life. Even if it was one of the alternate years when H., Fig, Sug and I were in Maine with H.s' family for the holiday, I talked to Dad.

For years and years, he proudly got his bonus turkey at ShopRite in New Milford [if you spend a certain amount of money, you qualify for one], called me and Sis at work or home to report on its size, started defrosting it days before.

Hey, Al, he'd say. I've got the turkey in the garage now. I think he didn't want to crowd his sink with it, or maybe it wouldn't fit. Then there were the years when he started cooking it days ahead because his old white Slattery oven wouldn't top 250 degrees. It is amazing that we all lived--but no one got sick. I shudder to think that his spinach stuffing may have been in it, too. Now we laugh.

And, he always tried to get our oldest brother back into our fold. I got the free turkey and we're coming for Christmas, he'd say to our reclusive J. in his Mulberry Street loft, after J. had already stepped away from Thanksgiving and other chances to see us. That was when J. still took our calls. We're trying now, too. Sis, Will and I want him to come to our holiday dinner in NYC.

But what if there is no heaven? What if that's just a lie our religion teaches us to soften the blow? That means Dad is gone forever. That he doesn't live anywhere. That is hard to bear.

He lives on in you, and Figgy, and your sister, and all of the rest of us who knew him, H. said as I sat sobbing on the steps leading to the back door. You wouldn't be crying if he wasn't there.

Okay. Happy Thanksgiving.

Thankful @ 3:30 A.M.

2011-11-24T03:33:00.001-05:00

I've had to squeeze my interviews and writing in between some tough stuff and many appointments this past week and a half. And I'm tired now--tired in the back of my neck, from hunching over this laptop. But I finished my article and just emailed it to my very patient and gracious editor.

I am thankful for my skills, that I can report and write accurately. I am thankful I was strong enough to meet my deadline.

Must sleep now, make apple pie in several hours.

All good wishes to you. And thank you for reading my blog, also.

TCOY

Boot camp in the soccer dome.
Walked Sug around block once.
Salon blowout.
Nap.
Falafel on whole-wheat pita.
Private Benjamin with H.
Facing, facing, facing the trees in the forest as best I can.

Through the Forest, Light

2011-11-22T23:33:00.002-05:00

When I step up, stand tall and face a dark forest--code word for a tough issue--it's not as scary as I thought it would be. It's really just trees, after all, in various stages of growth or decay. And hard acorns that hold hope but can trip you up underfoot. Tender, swaying seedlings, light filtering through the branches. There's nothing frightening about that. That's life, as Dad would say.

TCOY

Good night's sleep.
Walked Sug over near iris gardens.
Facing music with Fig's appts.
Private Benjamin with H.
Cuppa hot New England clam chowder from Kings, yum.

Check My New Essay in Coastal Living Magazine

2011-11-21T20:36:00.005-05:00

I found the issue at a newsstand in Montclair today.

Wanted to share some good news, and move on from my dreary posts. Dad's Gift, the essay I wrote about Dad and Figgy and our family's humble Cape Cod house, is on the back page of Coastal Living Magazine's holiday issue [December 2011/January 2012]. Cover price: $5.99. I've beach-combed the internet, but can't find a link to my essay. I think the issue [for a Nook, which I don't have] is available at barnesandnoble.com. But I'm not sure how that works, as I'm not Nook-savvy.

Thanks for being there. It's on the last page, 112.

Good night. May we all drift off to the real or imagined sounds of soothing coastal waves tonight.

TCOY

Boot camp in the park! Shuffles, sprints, steps.
Walked Sug around block once.
Short nap.
Got dressed nicely.
Made good dinner--roast chicken [salmon for H.], green beans, corn muffins.

A Walk in the Woods

2011-11-20T21:55:00.005-05:00

Right to left: Celia, Sug, Me, Fig, Caroline, Ben and H.

Our friends and their teen son, Ben, came to visit from NYC today. It is always a treat to see them. We took a walk up at Mills Reservation with Fig and her friend. Greg took the photo. Thanks, Greg.

Good night. Or should I more honestly say: Scary night. Rough night. Dark night. And can't help but say, look at me in that photo: Not a smidge of makeup, not even lipstick, which would make me look more alive; same rumpled outfit worn second day in a row; pocketful of questionables. Don't ask. Sug looks content. Better path ahead, I hope and pray. Today's has been rocky, literally and figuratively, visit from our pals aside.

TCOY

Mass.
Baking. Enjoyed creative outlet of making the pink meringue cookies on the cover of December Bon Appétit.
A walk in the woods.
Talked to Sis and Moey.

Strength

2011-11-19T20:20:00.002-05:00

Please, give me strength and serenity. Give me wisdom and truth. Give me perspective. Give me insight and sound judgment. Give me patience. Give me sense. Give me honor. Give me goodness. Give me light, and give me hope. I know, that's a lot of give me's--so thank you.

TCOY

Walked Sug around block once.
Private Benjamin, muddling through very tough stuff.
Whole Foods for some good things--but not too much.

A Toast to a Great Meal

2011-11-18T23:00:00.002-05:00

Italian restaurant Fascino has been in Montclair for 8 1/2 years, but tonight is the first time H. and I went. I'd heard about how delicious the food is long enough. But the couple of times I tried to book a table, it was full. This time, I sprung for a Groupon coupon [my first] a month or more ago. I paid $20 and got $40 off our bill. [And because it's BYOB, it's not too big a splurge.]

We loved it--especially my gnocchi; H.'s Mascarpone Polenta Fries with Gorgonzola Fonduta; and both of our desserts. He had the Brazilian Coffee and Vanilla Sundae and I had the Ultimate Peanut Butter & Chocolate Parfait, made with Marshmallow Brûlée and dark chocolate pudding. OMG. The pastry chef is pretty, gifted Cynthia DePersio, who developed recipes for Ladies' Home Journal and others for years--she's a friend of my friend/food editor extraordinaire Debby Goldsmith. Someday maybe Cynthia can tell me how she can stay so slender, petite and beautiful while whipping up Pumpkin Cheesecake and Pistachio Praline Bread Pudding with Caramel Sauce. Does she go light on the pasta and eat lots of greens? Exercise? Good genes? God bless. The desserts we had were heavenly.

Good night.

TCOY

Boot camp in the park. Three sets on the steps, plus a lot more.
Met my niece Leah in NYC for lunch and walk on brisk fall day in Central Park. Great to connect, and stroll.
Walked back to Port Authority.

H. Taps a Tale for Mayor Bloomberg

2011-11-17T22:09:00.003-05:00

H. with the mayor last night.

In his double life as serious journalist/party entertainer, H. is hired to work at a lot of functions during the holiday season, writing 60-Second Novels--listening and storytelling, tapping out each personal tale on his manual typewriter. He's there along with handwriting analysts, balloon twisters, stilt walkers and others, depending on the scene. They're all there to make the party fun. Sometimes, he brings home a souvenir for Figgy and me--fancy candy, iced cookies, flashing pins, or a party hat, for instance. Sometimes, even a tip.

Tonight he brought home a colorful tale--delivered it via cell phone first. He was working at a party in the Brooklyn Navy Yard [where my Dad's brother, Al, worked] and NYC Mayor Michael Bloomberg was there! H. wrote his story. Someone is going to send him photos of him with the mayor and I hope to post here soon. I'm a fan of Mayor Bloomberg for his calm, no-nonsense style, his ease of speaking and the fact that I once saw him riding the subway with his aides on my commute home. Millionaire as Everyman indeed. I like him.

Good night.

TCOY

Dressed nicely and accessorized to work productively on a writing assignment at home.
Turkey burgers on whole-wheat rolls and sauteed spinach for supper.
Walked Sug around block once.

My Date with Bolognese Sauce

2011-11-16T23:40:00.003-05:00


The 2008 book is on amazon for $11.98; at A.C. Moore store, $5.

Don't know if I'll do Bolognese Sauce again. I got home around 5ish and stood cooking for hours. Didn't serve it over rigatoni to Fig and friends until 7:40 P.M. And that was cutting corners--I was supposed to let it simmer, covered, on lowest flame for another 2.5 to 3 hours! [Since H. doesn't eat meat, he had something else, and was hungrier earlier, too.] But Bolognese Sauce with Pasta seemed like a nourishing, enticing meal for a rainy day. Turns out it's also a serious commitment, no quickie.

It tasted good but yeah, I should have let it simmer more. I left it on the stove the next few hours after we ate, so it should be even better tomorrow.

Also made sauteed spinach and a nice Caramelized Pear Compote [Bartlett slices browned in a cast-iron skillet with sugar, butter and cinnamon] to serve with little scoops of ice cream. Look at me, eating fruit. Yessir.

Both recipes are from the book pictured above, which has a $29.95 cover price but was for sale at A.C. Moore on Monday for $5. They have stacks of books there. I really do like this one. Lots of great recipes I want to try, including pie, biscotti and more. I hope the Mexican Hot Chocolate is in my future [tomorrow]. The photos are so inviting--always a VERY BIG reason to love a cookbook.

Good night.

TCOY

Boot camp in the park. Yikes--lunges and sprints and skips. I know it's good for my heart.
Hair appt. to cover gray!
Cooking--chopping, sauteing, simmering, stirring, peeling, browning, spicing, salting, boiling, serving, eating. And crying from the onion, but that's all part of the process.

Article Archive: Check My New Pieces in Asp1re Magazine

2011-11-15T10:33:00.003-05:00

The sleek November 2011 issue.

Please go to www.aspirenj.com to page through the virtual issue and view:

Seeing Beaty [about a visually impaired woman with great taste who knows her way around her apartment and decorating scheme] PAGE 16
Square Feat [about closet designers and their trendy projects] PAGE 22

Have a good day--pretty leaf-watching.

TCOY

Walked three loops at Edgemont Park and stood still to watch dramatic heron in the pond, there--silently stalking its prey.
Healthy sandwich, lots of ice water.
Walked Sug around block once.

Inch by Inch, Row by Row

2011-11-14T23:13:00.002-05:00

Trusting that things can be better, and doing my part. Not so good on my mint-green milkshake avoidance patrol, though. Who the heck gets a milkshake? Why me? Holy moly.

Good night.

TCOY

Boot camp in the park: involved running across football field and up stadium steps.
Short read and nap time.
Bill sorting and tossing.
Takeout dinner by candlelight in breakfast nook with Fig and friend.
Set up tomorrow's work in a pretty pink floral folder, so I can settle in to research and write.

Darkness Falls

2011-11-13T22:29:00.004-05:00

Things are hard again. I can't go into detail. But I am scared. As a girl, I didn't like the woods at the bottom of our neighborhood park. I liked Bedford Park, with the swings and the slide and the merry-go-round. I liked the ballfield, where men played softball and their wives cheered them on. But in the woods, there were creepy trees, one that was hollowed out. It looked like a witch could live inside it. I was so scared of that tree. I didn't want to go anywhere near it. It was the unknown.

But I'm not a child anymore. I'm an adult, a mother. And I have to go near creepy things sometimes. I have to face them. I am older and wiser. I try mightily to see them for what they are. A tree is a tree is a tree. It's not a witch's house. And a problem is a problem is a problem. It does not have to be insurmountable or forever or the end of everything good. I hope and pray.

Good night.

TCOY

Good, tingly, minty tooth care.
Mass.
Stared down eggnog at the supermarket--beckoning in a big glass farmhouse bottle.
Walked Sug in the sunlight with Figgy and later by myself, in the moonlight.
Lots of good veggies.
Cleaned house today, so won't be distracted on workday tomorrow.

Prosecco Nightcap, Time for Tuck-in

2011-11-13T00:38:00.003-05:00

TCOY

Tough Private Benjamin matters to figure. Facing some dark things, trying to keep eyes open and see light.
Bought eye cream and face cream, to smooth my skin and, perhaps, my life.
Longish fall walk with Sug, over to little hamlet with pretty houses. Saw fiery red bushes, orange trees.

Watchful

2011-11-11T23:20:00.006-05:00

Painting of Ocean House by Alexander Farnham. Website below.

Turns out can't completely put one's worry guard down, as a parent, even on a short getaway to a pretty inn in the coastal village of Watch Hill, Rhode Island. Some troubles and trials follow you, sneak into your suitcase, into your suite, even if you hoped to leave them behind in a puff of ocean air and sunshine. I'm sure there's a lesson to be learned in all this. And I think that lesson is that together time also provides the space and safety for growing, whether that stretching is positive or painful. It's growing all the same.

Sorry this post is so enigmatic.

Good night.

TCOY

Oatmeal brûlée with figs and bananas!!! I sure will miss those talented chefs cooking for me/us.
Lovely Harvest Detox Wrap treatment at OH! Spa, finished with Fig body butter. We treated Figgy to the Harvest Honey Wrap, too, as a big part of her Christmas gift. Wow, I see I just used the word/root Fig three times.
Lots of iced cucumber water in spa.
Talking rather than hiding.
Breathing in sea air.

*Painting from luxurybazaar.com.