"Standing By Peaceful Waters"

This pretty little book was published in 1973. I picked it up and put it back a few times over the years in the Cape Cod gift shop--I can't remember if it was at the National Seashore Visitor Center or the Wellfleet Bay Wildlife Sanctuary. I've known their book inventories pretty well, with all that compounded vacation time to browse by peaceful waters. The colorful illustrated cover and the title called out to me, even if I never in my life make Beach Plum Jelly. I finally bought the soft cover one year and just rediscovered it on the bookshelves in my home office. 

With quiet time alone this week, I've been reading it. Wonderful work by Elizabeth Post Mirel (who had three young children at the time, including a baby) with graceful illustrations by Betty Fraser. I do want the kind of calm where I make a pocket of time to read Plum Crazy, because it evokes a place and a passion. Our long-time Cape Cod friends Rite and Bob picked beach plums. I don't know if I ever learned to recognize the fruit until now, but there may be some nearby here in Connecticut.

Sis flew to the Southwest (New Mexico) to travel with her Peace Corps friend and family and called on me to dog-sit her enchanting pup, Galena, for more than a week. I walk that girly at least three times a day, and never sleep past 8, because she doesn't.

I'm loving it. Sis still gets The New York Times paper edition delivered daily. I sat on the sofa drinking in the Sunday Styles section. I met my friend/magazine colleague Mary Kate, who lives nearby, for a lovely catch-up breakfast in Cos Cob (part of Greenwich). I went to Mass in Stamford, and then asked Google to find the nearest Whole Foods, so ended up in high-end Darien midday Sunday, where I felt like a fish out of moneyed water. Two striking blonde women (not together) wore little immaculate white pleated tennis skirts, in perfect contrast to their golden tans. They were coming from or going to the courts. Eyewear was on trend, as were baby carriers and the handsome young dads wearing them for weekend duty. Some branded local products (cacao pudding and whipped bath scrub) were tempting but both went the way of beautiful Ice Cream Tulip bulbs, named for their double ice-cream-cone like blooms, but over my budget. The children, for the most part, seemed well-mannered. The place was packed. Though the store was mostly stocked with the same products our Montclair Whole Foods carries, I felt an imbalance, shall we say, which I never feel in my diverse hometown.

Behold luscious Ice Cream Tulips. I want to add some to our spring garden. 

You can also find Strawberry Ice Cream Tulips (red) 

and Banana Ice Cream Tulips (yellow). 

If I revisit Darien Whole Foods, I will buy a bag of bulbs.

Galena and I have been marina-gazing here in Shippan Point, turning our faces to the birds flying over the harbor and crossing paths with baby deer and other dogs (Pluto, Milo, Bo, etc.). We went to a small beach and walked out on the fishing pier, which has evenly spaced holes in the railings to rest poles while prepping bait or waiting for a bite.

When we go out back on the short boardwalk path by tall feathery grass and a snow egret, Galena and I stop by the plaque that commemorates the trade between two chiefs of Onax Tribe No. 41, International Order of Red Men, and a white British captain in 1640 and memorialized for the city of Stamford in 1916. The original owners swapped this beauty for some coats, glasses, knives, kettles, wampum and a few other things. Read more about that here (excellent report by Chase Wright).

Harbors are calm, harbors are good, whether our paths are charted or uncharted. Which brings me to these beautiful lyrics from "Lake Marie," by John Prine, released in 1995:

We were standing

Standing by peaceful waters

Standing by peaceful waters.....

SPOKEN: Many years ago along the Illinois-Wisconsin Border

There was this Indian tribe

They found two babies in the woods

White babies

One of them was named Elizabeth

She was the fairer of the two

While the smaller and more fragile one was named Marie

Having never seen white girls before

And living on the two lakes known as the Twin Lakes

They named the larger and more beautiful Lake, Lake Elizabeth

And thus the smaller lake that was hidden from the highway

Became known forever as Lake Marie...

Onward now...

Correction: When I wrote this post on the fourth floor of the Shops at Hudson Yards in NYC yesterday, I put the wrong date for the tribal trade. It was 1640, not 1612. The plaque commemorates the original July 1, 1640 sale by American Indian Chiefs Ponus and Wascussue to British Capt. Nathaniel Turner, an agent for the New Haven Colony.

Hope on Two Wheels

Please excuse any typos. I again misplaced my reading glasses, this time perhaps at the Dockside Restaurant in Belfast at dinner last night. I can't go back to check yet because it is closed today (Monday).

Our hotel has bicycles all ready and waiting, tires pumped full and hard. Bells on the handlebars, a basket, helmet and lock for each bike. Guests can use them for free. I plan to bike Route 1A over to the old foot bridge into Belfast. I think it will lift my spirit, which has been lagging and dragging since Saturday night due to sister squabbles, mean words, tight quarters, four of us in the hotel room. Toxic times and scary stuff. Today is a good window to go because the weather is sunny and sweet, Figgy went shopping in town, Dan drove in to see his Mom and his bros, and Punchy's cousin, Izzy, took her to the beach.

Meanwhile, some photos:

My nuclear family with our nephew's son, Wilder, at Leah and Greg's wedding party Saturday at Mere Point, Maine. The wedding couple, so much to love in each other, and the world loves them back. The abundant mason jars of farm-grown pink peonies and sweet peas, yellow snapdragons--so perfect. Excellent coffee (it was chilly and overcast), tapas and an ice cream truck from Stone Fox Farm Creamery.

Our niece Anna, who was a flower girl in our wedding 33 years ago, and Figgy.

River Bridge view with fairy lights, pocket-size ice cream shop in Camden.

View from our hotel.

I pray/aspire to stop simmering in fear and resentment. To put them down. To trust God to watch over and guide me and the ones I hold close.

"We don't struggle," my longtime friend reminded me.

Okay. The view is pretty here.

I've been sitting here in the lobby, went on a 10 a.m. Zoom support group on my phone. Figgy said she gathered shells for me yesterday and left them on the hotel dresser. Will go and see them now.

Sunday-Night Tired

The color of the year, Peach Fuzz, makes me think of Mrs. C's pretty kitchen in Dumont. When I saw peach taper candles at Van Hook, I scooped up a pair.

Full day....instead of turning off my alarm at 7:45 a.m. and going back to sleep, I got up and went to 9 a.m. support group. Good people there, and it meets at a conference room in a nicely renovated local hospital.

I'm not too often in that part of town. I walked partway home so I could stop at nearbly Van Hook Cheese + Grocery (especially for pretty taper candles in peach* and yellow, reasonably priced) and smooth 100 percent dark chocolate that somehow carries it off without any sugar. Dan found it too bitter but I like the midnight dark Cacao Sampaka bar from Barcelona. Luxury priced at $10 for 2.64 oz. They make coffee and cappuccino chocolate "tablets," too. Also grabbed a half-gallon of whole milk from a farm, wedge of Brie for Dan/Punch/me, nice round wheat crackers.

The Jones Road (Bobbi Brown makeup) shop is right around the corner, so I also stopped there because my brow pencil is down to a stump and I wanted to try a new tinted lip balm.

Later, Dan and I gardened. He planted bulbs and I raked the lawn and around the shrubs and potted pretty pink-and-white-striped dahlias. In that regard, we are a good team. I made spaghetti squash with turkey bolognese sauce. I think there are leftovers for Punch's lunch tomorrow. 

Good night.

*Pantone's Color of the Year for 2024 is Peach Fuzz. I thought of that when I plucked a pair of peach tapers off the rack at Van Hook.

White Easter Lilies and Little Girls in Dresses

Daff photo from Holland Bulb Farms in Milwaukee.

Easter Mass at 9:30 was nice, with banks of pure white lilies, purple hydrangeas and pink azaleas. A branch with flowering white buds was behind me where I stood (I was too late, so standing room only) and at one point, I got my hair caught in it. The little girls were there--sporting tiny white shoes with bows, hairbands, gingham and floral print dresses, sparkly ballet slippers. I thought back to my two little girls, and smiled. To these new little girls, though, I was just a stranger in a pink dress wearing lipstick and why was I smiling at them? One mini miss clung closer to her mother's coat hem.

A packed church, as happens on Christmas and Easter. 

It saddens me that Dan and Punch and Figgy don't join me for church anymore, except rarely. That's a separate story, or three. But I still enjoyed the quiet prayer. Somehow, there was a bit less pomp and circumstance this year. I don't know why. A bit less magic. Father Marc, our young pastor of many years, was recently transferred, and we miss him. Change is a bump, or a spike. And in the Catholic church, transferring priests happens a lot. (Often because they are needed somewhere else but as you have likely read in news reports, sadly, sometimes, it turns out, to cover up a trail of abuse*.)

Then a simple midday meal at home. Sis brought ham, Easter bread, homemade cookies made from dough tinted pink. I enjoyed filling the Easter baskets and I roasted lamb, browned baby potatoes, steamed spring asparagus.

I walked all the way back, along Norwood. I passed that pretty Tudor, the little cottage that was built up into a bigger house, the house that has clutches and clutches of daffodils on the hill every year, their faces, in ruffled bonnets, turned to the sun. The house where the man was an expert gardener and a rose whisperer. The house where little Figgy went to Paulina's bday party with our nanny, since I was working full-time in NYC. And she made a point of telling me about it, as though it was important for her Mommy to know about the big thing she was doing without me. 

"That's Paulina's house," she said. 

"What? Whose house?" I couldn't understand the word in her raspy three-year-old voice. I didn't know anyone in that house on Norwood.

"Paulina," Figgy said. Maria, our Nanny, told me the name later.

Somehow, I felt the significance of Figgy's report. A bridge to her life while I was away.

It took me a LONG time to get home today, almost  twice as long as it used to. I haven't been exercising, between pandemic nesting and Punchy stress. I'm older and stiffer. But I'm turning a corner, I hope. I'm glad I made it.

I'm going to rest a little and go to bed early. Punch has spring break this week. Good night.

*I've been a Catholic all my life, 63 years. I feel disloyal to the church and my family writing about sexual abuse accusations (and convictions) in this public blog. You better not write that here. Don't say something against the church. The priests you knew didn't do this, not those two tall priests from Saint Mary's. Mommy and Daddy and your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, Jim/Gloria, Jack/Mary, Malachy/Peggy, Anthony/Claire, Aldo/Edith (all gone now, on both the Irish and Italian sides, and you miss them) would not like that you wrote that here. If the last of the 10, Aunt Gloria, your godmother, had not just died, maybe you would not even write that here. To put it out in the light. Did they keep those secrets for decades, stories from their own childhood Catholic parishes? But keeping secrets, that is why the sexual abuse progressed. Such buried whispers are cloaked in shame, darkness and denial and caused irreparable, cutting damage to victims in the parishes. They can't get their innocence and trust back, trust in men who were supposed to be holy. I am not implying anything about the priests I have known in my home parishes in Dumont or Montclair. And there you go again, participating in a cover-up. You know someone who was part of a group that went to court against a priest formerly in Montclair. And a priest you and your young girlfriends knew for a while at Saint Mary's (neither of the two nice tall ones) was on the published list of sexual abusers who were transferred. You found his name there. And look at that. Just like that, you do not want to write his name here. Perpetuating the sickness, the cloaked crimes.

Fun with Celia in the Greatest City in the World

SMØR Bakery in the East Village, so close to where my friend Celia lives, in Stuyvesant Town, and just doors away from my brother John's apartment*. Who knew? Thanks, Celia, for taking me there. Photo by Karsten Moran for The New York Times. 

I took the train into Penn Station (the Moynihan Hall renovation is finally coming along) to meet my friend Celia for lunch in the East Village.

It's late, so I will do a punch list:

• Round trip NJ Transit train ride from Mountain Avenue Montclair only $7.15 for a senior. Bargain.
• Two subways, the E and the 6. Good to be back in the midst of things. Police presence, two friendly officers helped when I doublechecked that the uptown E would go to Astor Place.
• We ate at Little Poland, a restaurant not far from the Ukrainian hotspot Veselka (which was packed) on Second Avenue. They had little, freshly baked loaves of Easter bread by the register, $6 a pop. I got one for my family. I had Swedish meatballs, steamed carrots, red cabbage, potato pancake.
• Celia and I went to PlantShed on Second Ave. Gorgeous flowers (fat fuchsia roses on long stems), heavenly candles and lotions, tiny flowerpots, a nice cafe with good-looking pastries, such as  teddy bear financiers, and matcha coffee drinks. We just browsed, but I would like to go back.
• I realized my oldest brother, John, lives a block away. I called him, and then Celia and I popped by. He couldn't come out, but he looked much better than when I saw him last, in the hospital. I really like his neighborhood. We will be talking soon.
• SMØR Bakery on East 12th Street! Oh my goodness. I can't wait to return. Nordic, with hearty loaves, sandwiches, pastries etc.! The sesame sourdough rolls are SO GOOD, chewy and thoroughly seeded. Scandinavian-inspired space, shelves stocked with jarred herring, imported licorice bears and rich chocolate spread (like but not Nutella). Here is NY Times report. Smör/SMØR means "butter" in Swedish.
• Celia (who is Jewish) took me into Immaculate Conception Church on First Avenue. I think I've been there once before, but had forgotten. Good Friday liturgy....we caught a glimpse of the holy service, the procession, the crucifix swathed in crimson cloth, full pews for the 3 p.m. service. We didn't go in past the glass doors but saw beautiful statues in the alcove.
• MTA crosstown bus. Liked it.
• Dan had a poker game here with Michael, Dean, John and Gary tonight. It looked like fun. Dan is always happy when surrounded by his friends or his four older brothers.
• After driving Punchy to Fort Lee for a birthday party, I motored over to Whole Foods in West Orange for Easter basket treats for my family. Also pink tulips, lavender epsom salts, oat milk creamer, vegan butter, etc., delicious-looking mango-filled vegan cookies for Easter dessert that I can tell everyone will like.
• Car wouldn't start when I left Whole Foods. I had to call AAA; thank God we have it, and cell phones, too. Anthony came fast and towed our car back home, while I sat in the warm cab on a cold night. We also had to pay (a lot) to Uber Punch back from Fort Lee. We are hoping to get a new car soon. Figgy and her car were at her new apartment Friday.
• High stepping, with those subway steps, the NJ Transit train and getting up and down from Anthony's tow truck. (Back home, Dan was there to help me.) I am getting older. And for all the truth and beauty of life, that is sobering.

Good night to you.

*My other brother, Will, lives in a NYC apartment too. I am the baby of four.

The Lilly Pulitzer of Orchids

We saw this fashionable stunner on Saturday at Duke Farms, formerly the estate of tobacco heiress Doris Duke. Parking is free and there is no entrance fee at this New Jersey green space/nature habitat. (Compare to other wallet-tapping destinations like Six Flags.) There are walking/biking trails and bikes for rent.

This orchid, one among many rare ones in a dedicated orchid greenhouse, is so ruffly and pretty. Privileged. Perfectly designed around the edges. And who wouldn't look good in that color?

Image of Doris Duke from here. The New York Times obit said she stood tall--at 6’1".  I love the cigarette pants and slim, tapered flats.  

I could also imagine Doris Duke along the trails, on a horse. Duke Farms encompasses about 2,700 acres of farm and wood lands with 45 buildings, 9 lakes, 18 miles of roads, 810 acres of woodlands, 464 acres of grassland bird habitat and 1.5 miles of stone walls, per Wikipedia. It was not lost on me that all this was possible due to the selling of cigarettes and killing of lungs, but at least the fresh-air habitat exists now.

Sad + Scared

These fragile, pale pink roses return every year, 

on branches that weather the grip of winter frost.

The rosebush, a gift from my Girl Scout troop in 2007, 

has thorns but produces delicate buds that seek the sun and unfurl. 

(Dan puts fencing around our 

flower and veggie gardens because deer ravage them.)

Do I need fencing around my garden of life? Yes. 

I try every day to keep healthy boundaries in the face of mental health issues in my home. Many mornings, I wake up feeling scared and sad. I'm working on that with my DBT-trained therapist. Day by day, I try to remember I can protect and distance myself in a calm and mindful way. I am separate from the person with the mental health trauma and from the trauma itself. I do not own it, cannot fix it, though we keep hoping we can, trying many supports and interventions.

I try to practice "radical acceptance," a DBT term.

I prayed today, and sobbed at the kitchen table. (Awkwardly, my cell phone pocket-dialed a Montclair friend, and IDK if my sobbing and praying aloud was recorded.) I felt alone. Fearful. I saw signs today of seriously unhealthy and unsafe interpersonal behaviors, and I am shaken. They are ways NOT to cope with life, with fear, anger, abandonment or love. I did lift myself up off the couch and walk around the block, though my heart was in my sneakers. I picked up a plastic water bottle and glass Starbucks bottle along the way, to recycle. 

How to face the wrath of these dangerous thorns on someone's branches? These things can jab and stab, stopping us from reaching and enjoying the gift of flowers, the blooms that other parents may take for granted. Maybe they see roses, a flush of youth in their daughters' cheeks instead of too much drugstore blush and the rise of fury.

Diseases and fungus can prevent the rosebush itself from blooming. The leaves might get spotted and lacy, from mites or another illness, things that consume its beauty. The rosebush might die. We plant it in the sun, water when needed, fertilize sometimes and try our best to protect it from pests, but in the end, a rosebush is a present on loan from the lords of nature and life and we may not be able to save it. Radical acceptance.

***

Dan is supposed to drive me in two hours, at 7 p.m., to Sis's in Connecticut so she and I can leave in the morning for a long-planned trip to the Cape with friends Meg and Greg from Vermont. 

But I am worried. All the worry in the world won't change a thing, my mother used to say. I guess I was a worrier as a young woman, since she left us for the heavens when I was 20.

I need to take a shower and shampoo my hair. I have to gather up the bath towels and sheets for the Cape house. I look upset, and I am.

To the one who watches from above, to God, or the goddess of the stars, or the power and beauty of the sea, or the fairies who fly over flowers, please, show me the next right thing to do. This pain is raw and deep. I am one person, and I try very hard.

I have to get in the shower now. I pray I won't get overwhelmed with worry. I will pray and I will trust.

Thank you for listening.

I wanted to write a post about my four-day solo visit to Florida to see our Figgy last Saturday through Tuesday, but I didn't get around to it. Here is a photo of us from Monday 

at a beach on Amelia Island. It was a lovely time 

to bond and immerse ourselves in birdwatching and nature.

Lucky 7 List: Tuesday’s Child Is Full of Grace

Showy pink lady’s slipper, or slipper orchid. 

Wow. Do we really exist in a world 

with wild, slipper-shaped flowers? 

That’s lucky. Image and info link here. 

I started writing here in February 2010, when Figgy was 14, a high school freshman, and Punchy was 3 and back living with her birth mom. (My smart, long-time friend Kim’s blog set me on this blogging path.) 

I have seen darkness and light, and charted it here. Click for a few examples of posts about sadness and sunshine of the spirit.

Today I see graces around me. But facing life on life’s terms also brings an awareness that we all meet up with challenges, and trying days. It won’t just be the gentle wind at our backs every day. Sometimes the road will be rocky and slippery. (Yesterday was hard. From 3 to 5 p.m., a certain young someone had great difficulty regulating her emotions and holding a boundary. It was ugly and scary, I won’t lie. But it must have been ugly and scary for the young one, too.)

Graces, midday on Tuesday, March 21, 2023:

1. Child. Punchy started at a new out-of-district high school last week. I am so very very very very very very grateful. So is Dan, and the extended family that supports our Punch. They know who they are.
2. Beauty. I got my hair cut last week--a trim and shape-up by talented Linda at 212 Salon and Day Spa in Montclair. I’m grateful to have moderate funds for pampering: regular pedicures, special-day blowouts and, when I can no longer ignore the gray, single-process hair color. Then, every few months, if the stars are in their courses and the pennies in the purse, the big kahuna, the ultimate glow-up: Highlights by Chrystina at Boho Hair Salon. (I put live links here not because I earn money if you click on them. I don’t. But I want you to know of these places, too.)
3. Notes. Writing notes (mostly thank you notes, or letters to Figgy in Florida) is very important to me. When I’m not in a good mental state, I do not mail notes. I cannot muster up the energy or find the space for the process: pen to paper, good thoughts, Love, Alice or Love, Mima, lick the envelope, address it, press on a Forever postage stamp, put in our mail basket for carrier, David T., to send on its way. “This should get to her in three days,” David says when I put a card there for Figgy. If something is more urgent, I go to the Post Office, and I love that, too.
4. Fat cat. I adore that Nina, who just turned two. She is a storybook kitty, pretty green eyes and a playful spirit. Like Sugar Maureen, our Bichon Frise, Nina is my baby.
5. Skin. Less acne. My darn CPAP machine mask irritates my skin. I need the mask and machine so I keep breathing at night, but I pay for it with breakouts and redness. CeraVe Acne Control Cleanser, bought on impulse at CVS, seems to help. My dermatologist could not. Don’t ask.
6. Young adult. Figgy is doing well as far as I can see, and my heart lifts for that. It’s a fact mothers share: If one of your kids is suffering psychologically, physically, heartwise or in any other way, you are far less lighthearted and hence, less likely to count your graces. But I think counting our graces anyway on any day is a skill worth acquiring. When we do that, we don’t fall apart with our kids in their tough times. I have been prone to falling apart and losing my footing with a daughter or two, as though one sad, scared young person is not enough at any given time in a household.
7. Health care. Coverage is paid up to date. Years back, I had to call many times because our monthly payment was very high and hard to keep up with, and our coverage had been terminated. Thank you, Obamacare*. 

Graces are not just big things but also small ones, like a tiny daffodil raising its head in a ruffled bonnet or two adorable little sisters in the neighborhood walking their cute dog, who just happens to be wearing a sweater. 

May all of our days be sprinkled with graces. 

*Per Wikipedia: HealthCare.gov is a health insurance exchange website operated by the United States federal government under the provisions of the Affordable Care Act or ACA, commonly referred to as “Obamacare”, which currently serves the residents of the U.S. states which have opted not to create their own state exchanges.^{[1][better source needed]} The exchange facilitates the sale of private health insurance plans to residents of the United States^[2] and offers subsidies to those who earn between one and four times the federal poverty line, but not to those earning less than the federal poverty line.^[3] The website also assists those persons who are eligible to sign up for Medicaid, and has a separate marketplace for small businesses.

The Gift of Restorative Yoga

Lily of the valley image from Longfield Gardens in Lakewood, New Jersey.

I asked Dan to get me five classes to the beautiful studio Yoga Mechanics for my birthday, January 21.

“You know, that’s a hundred and twenty-five dollars,” he said. “I could get you something that lasts, like a piece of jewelry or something, for that amount of money.”

I said something like “I know, and you have given me such pretty jewelry over the years. But these classes really help me."

It has taken me til now--February 22--to use the first one. Life, bad behavior/stress in the house, which threw me off course, or wintry weather kept intervening. Or low Uber funds, since Dan and Punch drive to a DBT adolescent group therapy program Wednesday evenings, and I have to Uber to the yoga studio, then Dan picks me up. (Tonight, the ride cost $9.94 plus $2 tip.) 

My favorite class is Wednesday night Restorative Yoga, taught by Krystal. It runs from 7:30 to 8:30 p.m., so I didn’t eat dinner until about 8:45. I don’t like doing yoga after a full meal.

I loved the music. Krystal told me it’s her “Restore” playlist on Spotify. I found it and am playing it, especially “Be Here Now.”

I am very grateful that I got to class tonight. It was indeed restorative. I used a bolster, two blocks, a strap and two blankets for extra support.

Good night.

P.S. One more reason I love this yoga studio: co-owners Hana and Annette. You know me, I like to style watch in life. Hana is not only smart and lovely but her hair looked SO GREAT that I asked her where she got it done. Boho Hair Salon, "Chrystina with a y,” she said. (Boho also has an attached cafe.) So now I try to go there every few months for investment highlights.

#2 Petite Knock Out Roses: A Letter to My Daughters

 Petite Knock Out* image from here. Tiny but tough in the pursuit of beauty.

Dreamy Apricot Drift** roses. On my garden bucket list. And I like the word “drift,” since many of us drift on our journeys.

Dear Carlie and Punch,

It’s been a while since I’ve written you two a letter together. 

I've switched to the blog name Carlie from Figgy. The names evolve as the daughters do. Carlie is one of my top real-life pet names for you, my first baby girl, the once rumpled redhead with the raspy voice and mirthful spirit. (Your middle name is Caroline. So, Carlie.) 

And Punch--well, I was calling you Skipper/Skippy in stories for a while but times are tough for you and I am going back to Punch because you, like a Petite Knock Out* Rose, have to somehow summon up the power to knock out beauty, to bloom through extreme weather, in the face of pests, thorns and nursery diseases* that can kill you, eat away your leaves in a lacy pattern. For now, rather than Skipper (Barbie’s sporty little sister, in a red swimsuit), Punch it is.

We are all only human. We can only do our best with the life unfurling before us, with the tightly wrapped rosebud we are given at birth.

I cannot go into details in this public space. But I can speak softly, and toughly, of a mother’s love. Carlie, so proud of you down on the Florida coast, researching algae and cyanobacteria in a master’s program. So happy for your passions and joys, your brain, your beauty, those sky-blue eyes from my Irish grandfather, your gardening and friendships, your love and kindness as you navigate life’s road as a confident young woman.

Punch, so concerned for you at age 15.  As you know, Carlie had some rough, churning seas in high school, too. I guess a lot of teenagers do. Oh, you have beauty and brains aplenty --that shiny hair, the green eyes, the way you captivate people, your smart mind, capable skills--but you have much to face and much to work through. I love you, we love you, so much. Mr. Danay, Carlie, me and Nina, the sweet kitten you chose--your nuclear family. 

This is just a letter to say how much I love you both at this juncture on life’s path.

Love always, Mima (to Carlie)/Alice (to Punch).

__________________________________________________________________________

*Petite Knock Out® is the first-ever, miniature Knock Out® Rose, offering more versatility than any other member in The Family! This small plant makes a big impact with fire-engine-red blooms and flower power, easy care, and disease resistance true of Knock Out® Roses. Plant in containers or in the garden for season-long blooms. Available at select garden retailers.  

**Double apricot coloured flowers begin flowering in spring and display a season-long show of colour. It is just as tough and disease resistant as others in the Drift® series.

Another Letter to My Daughters here (from five years and two months ago). 

Little Mistakes Were Made 🧽 🧽 + My Cold Brew Coffee Article 💧💧💧

🧽🧽  That’s why sponges and erasers were invented...you get a clean slate in life again and again.

1. I braved DMV for driver’s license and registration renewals without eating a proper lunch or bringing a big cup of caffeine on ice. 
2. I took the wrong route, ignoring wise Google Maps, and added a 13-minute backup on Route 46 West to my drive.
3. I hit ShopRite (to get cranberry juice for Skipper) on a still hungry stomach. Not a good idea. Not when Cheez-Its, in their pick me! love me! red boxes, were lined up for sale on an end cap display not far from the milk case. Oddly enough, I was also drawn to the steamed, shelled mussels I reeled in at the seafood department. At least that was protein.
4. I didn’t let last winter’s amaryllis bulb sleep/go dormant the right way--it was all crumbled, crackly and, well, hollow--there was no there there. But my friend Denise is a gardener and I’m going to ask for advice with this year’s bulb, because it just gave me four beautiful red and white candy-cane blooms.

Not a mistake: Link to my latest Reader’s Digest website article, about cold brew coffee:

https://www.rd.com/article/what-is-cold-brew-coffee/

Until tomorrow.

*Pink eraser link here.

Flowers! Out in the Sunshine

Above: We all got the same flowers but look how different the designs turned out! Top: Mine, on the upside-down bucket we each had so the arrangement would be closer to eye level. Middle: Chantal, a Glenfield Mom, with hers. Bottom: My tablemate Karen’s arrangement, elegant and dramatic.

Best PTA fundraiser ever, and I’ve been to and helped at my fair share since Figgy started preschool in 1998--cookie exchanges, pancake breakfasts, tea parties, talent shows, silent auctions, Election Day bake sales, Scholastic Book Fairs, Teachers’ Toasts, teacher appreciation days, the big, annual Halloween Boogie Bash at Hillside Elementary School. 

In the time of Zoom/pandemic, online Trivia Nights--make a small donation to play/Skippy and her friends loved it--plus a big popcorn sale (colorful cones of popcorn delivered to your door, eat while doing Trivia Night).

But the event this afternoon from 4 to 6 p.m., wow.

Tessa offered 20 spots in her backyard and when I got the email I jumped on it. We were set up two per table at social distance, out in the sunshine. We each got a small, round, clear glass vase--and florist’s tape, a knife and scissors to use (not keep) at each spot. Anne Kilcullen of Blade Floral Design led the lesson. We paid $50 each but the flowers were exquisite (see below) and proceeds helped Glenfield School/students. I’ve wanted to do floral workshops before, but I think the price was $165?...

• parrot tulips
• ranunculi
• pink peonies!
• daffodils
• wax flowers

It was a lovely way to spend two hours on the weekend before Mother’s Day. Felt so good to be out interacting. #ThisisMontclair #Myfamilyisbowledover #bymyfloralarrangement 

Good night.

Repotting Daffodils

FYI, links to my last two flower-titled stories about sugar/overeating addiction recovery on Medium:

Addiction Recovery Story #20, Beach Rose/Salt-Spray Rose: Slip-Sliding, Clinging to the Dunes
https://alicegarbarinihurley.medium.com/addiction-recovery-story-20-beach-rose-salt-spray-rose-slip-sliding-clinging-to-the-dunes-991eaa898d42

Addiction Recovery Story #19, Virginia Bluebell: Fences Help a Garden Grow
https://alicegarbarinihurley.medium.com/addiction-recovery-story-19-virginia-bluebell-fences-help-a-garden-grow-1f1a4f79fc16

Update: Yesterday I ordered the Virginia Bluebell tubers? (on sale) from the Tennessee nursery. Can’t wait to plant, but hope they work here in NJ.

The best thing about today so far--and it's already 3:32 p.m.--is that I repotted the tall daffodils I bought last night at Whole Foods. They look so good in the handsome pot my family gave me for Mother’s Day last year (from Moss & More, it arrived full of purple flowering plants). 

And the daffs were on sale for $5 (for the large bulbs in large container) and another 10 percent off with Amazon Prime.

Above: Beautiful (small) Kew Pottery pot. I didn’t see this cool (my favorite) color at the time I bought it in orange (reminds me of a Tory Burch orange). I have a pink African violet in mine. Here is the link on Moss & More site: PRETTY POT.

(Botanical Collections is the exclusive authorized American wholesaler of fine, handcrafted Kew pottery and Kew pots from London’s Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew adorned with their official seal.

It is available at select fine retailers throughout the United States.)

I’m hoping to take a relaxing bath soon and do some errands in town.

P.S. Did take a bath with salts and it was so relaxing and rejuvenating. Last night, Dan and I, who are on a Hitchcock kick, watched “Family Plot,” the director’s 1976 movie at Sofa Cinema. We enjoyed it.

A Fork in the Road

Image above from THIS LINK. Please see my PS.

I've been mulling over my very public money tracking here. I have a crisp memory of when I decided to start listing my spends/looking them in the eye--it was the very end of December 2018, after our Christmas trip to Maine. 

I had a separate rental car and stopped in Kennebunkport on my solo drive back--and then discovered all kinds of after-Christmas sales in Montclair. Mainly, luxuries I had eyed during the season but resisted. For example, a soft pink wool Irish throw blanket and 2 adorable, glittery, light-up Christmas cottages (each powered by a tiny bulb). Soon after, I started listing every penny. Here is a link to my first official money tracker post, January 3, 2019.

Now--I have not crunched all the numbers. I have learned a lot about myself. But it takes a LOT of time to track every cent spent (except medical co-pays, etc.).  It can be quite a responsibility. 

I think I'm going to take a break from committing to track daily here. Maybe I will just post $$ here when it's of interest for one reason or another. For instance, today I had a $20 budget and wanted beauty. I spent $18.11 total at Whole Foods and got really good stuff for the money:

• A multi-pack (maybe 9?) of fall pansies--orange, white and yellow.....mood booster for sure. Added to outdoor planters.
• Half-gallon Ronnybrook Farm whole milk in glass bottle. Includes $2 refundable bottle deposit. I love and talk about milk so much, I think I should have a MILK MONEY daily header. LOL.
• Medium box of almond milk.
• 3 chocolate-covered pretzels for Punch, safely wrapped in their own bag. 

TCOY

1. Walked around block w. Sug and down to stream, to take in its beauty from the sidewalk.
2. Important phone call and texting with friend S.
3. Planted the pansies, watered the garden, filled a tall lawn and leaf bag for pickup.
4. Healthy foods eaten: nice berry bowl; cantaloupe wedge; nuts (measured portion); good coffee; Ezekiel English muffin with butter; baby spinach; rosy radishes.
5. About to take bath.
6. Then read the first French memoir/recipe book, Kim. 
7. Listening to peaceful Elvis gospel music.

I'm tired. I rose at 6 am.

Good night.

P.S. A chipmunk has been in our house since yesterday. It's very unsettling. IDK what to do. I laid out a path of pecans leading to the front door but then was afraid that would ATTRACT more chipmunks. We have so many outside this year, building their very efficient tunnels. Ugh.

per Wikipedia: The Tale of Timmy Tiptoes is a children's book written and illustrated by Beatrix Potter, and published by Frederick Warne & Co. in October 1911. Timmy Tiptoes is a squirrel believed to be a nut-thief by his fellows, and imprisoned by them in a hollow tree with the expectation that he will confess under confinement. Timmy is tended by Chippy Hackee, a friendly, mischievous chipmunk who has run away from his wife and is camping-out in the tree. 

Come on, Come on, Kalanchoe

Meet kalanchoe (pronounced kal-un-KOH-ee). Until just now--when I checked the online dictionary and clicked the speaker button so I could hear a woman pronounce the word, I said KALANCHA. So now I know. Anyway, it's perky and cheery, and I was craving beauty and color today. You can keep it outdoors or in--just give it shelter in the house before the first frost. Kalanchoe tales:

• When Figgy was born 25 years ago this August 24, my brother Will and Kelly, who live in Manhattan, came to the NYC hospital with a large pink kalanchoe plant--pink since we had a girl. I kept it blooming for a while (much to Will's amazement), but then it was spent.
• At the end of July, when Moey and I went to Spring Lake for one overnight, I finally checked out the pocket-sized Flowers by Colleen on the town's main shopping street and got us each a pink kalanchoe. I put mine in a pretty pink and yellow cachepot in the kitchen--the plant is a reminder of my first trip to stay by the rolling sea since last summer, before COVID-19.. A reminder of adventures, ocean air, packing a suitcase--and friendship.
• Today I popped into an enchanted Montclair shop--Moss & More. Figgy, Punch and I all adore this carefully edited plant lover's paradise. Amy, the owner, doesn't carry many flowering plants, but I found a sunny yellow kalanchoe (technically, a succulent) for about $7 and. planted it in a beautiful terracotta planter from her selection. I also had my bottle refilled with teatree all-purpose household cleaning spray. Best of all, since I was walking home more than 30 minutes with groceries etc., Amy offered to drop it all on my doorstep. Lovely. Tomorrow, I'm putting this beauty outside. 

I must update $pending soon. Good night, flowers, and friends.

Today by the Numbers

1 panful of seared sirloin steak for Punch and me. [Dan came back from shopping like a proud hunter, bearing tofu for Figgy and beef for us.]
2 stints unloading/loading the dishwasher and hand-washing the endless cookware in this pots-and-pandemic [name from Dan].
3 carafes of Folgers coffee brewed and poured for Dan, Figgy and me. [Punch had one glass over ice.]
4 hollers to Punch to turn off the Harry Potter movie rental and come eat dinner.
5 the time I arrived at Toni's Kitchen in Montclair to drop off a donation bag filled with tissues, laundry detergent, hand soap and food.
6 check-ins to see if my essay was published online yet [nope].
7 hand-me-down sterling silver spoons in our everyday utensil tray.
8 people on line outside Kings when I went about 5:30 pm, all spaced at a safe social distance of 6 feet apart.
9 small bowls and wedding china cups of creamy tapioca pudding--nursery food--filled and chilled after stirring and folding, stirring and folding.
10+ flowering pink trees passed on my walk at 6:15 pm.
300+ daffodils, tulips and grape hyacinths dipping and bowing along the way, a cheerful troop of beauty.

TCOY

1. The walk.
2. Taking some time to write this post.
3. Watched last episode of season one of "The Closer." I love it. On to season 2 this weekend.
4. Taking care of others is TCOY. I did that by steaming asparagus, searing the steak, baking yams, making tapioca for Punch. It also felt good to drop the bag at Toni's Kitchen and to bring $48 cash to my neighbor, Lotta, who is donating money [in exchange for her gorgeous kitchen towels--she is a well-known textile designer] for face shields for frontline workers.

Will post $$$ update soon. Good night. Stay safe.

Anniversary Flowers

Check this LINK to see the lushest, most luscious-looking flowers ever, designed by Amy at Studio Nectar.
I have seen them around town for more than a year, wishing for some because they are so exquisite, and they were on display this week alone at Vesta Chocolate and Joyist. Amy is even collaborating, I think, with Vesta.
She advertised her Valentine’s bouquets and I ordered one. I think it comes in a stemmed, retro-looking vase with a vintage ribbon tied around it.
Since Monday is our 29th wedding anniversary and tomorrow is Val Day, I ordered flowers for us. Can’t wait.
TCOY

1. 8 AM yoga class.
2. Made veggie burger on rye for lunch.
3. Spinach salad with dinner.
4. Bought another 15-class yoga card on sale. [Not listing here in $, figure it’s important for my body and mind.]
5. Short nap on couch under pink wool jblanket, when Dan went to get Punch at ice rink.

$ MONEY SPENT OUT OF POCKET
In addition to putting my earnings from writing to paying $440 for heating oil and $300 child care today:

• 29th anniversary flowers in vase, delivered tomorrow, $110. Dream bouquet.
• ShopRite groceries, $107.87.
• Layla black ribbed knit turtleneck, free shipping, about $30. Sale. This was with my email signup 20 percent discount.

Will crunch numbers tomorrow. Good night.

Making It through Monday

I walked into town today in a shortish yoga dress and my Nike sneakers. Had checked weather and it said 58 degrees in Montclair. I hadn't noticed any wind advisory. Not such a pleasant 20-minute walk because I had to hold the skirt of my dress down, so windy.

Things are looking up a bit. A call from Punchy's Mimi this evening was also helpful in terms of perspective.

I still have to go over Punchy's math and geography homework tonight, and dig into an article I'm writing. But want to blog now and sign off here.

Good night, in advance.

TCOY

1. Important writing, important phone call.
2. Talked to Sis to catch up.
3. That walk into town, as uncomfortable as it was with the whipping wind.
4. Concealer, eye cream, eye shadow, mascara.
5. Good dental care.
6. Ate some veggies.

$ MONEY SPENT OUT OF POCKET

• Saunders hardware store, garden gloves [had none] and 2 packs Burpee nasturtium seeds, the easiest flowers to grow in containers--with pretty edible blossoms for your salads and cake tops. $17.03.
• Joyist, my healthy workspace, The Greg blend; avocado toast with greens; and coconut cacao energy bites, $25.
• Gasoline, $10.

TOTAL DAILY SPEND: $52.03.

MONTHLY SPEND AS OF APRIL 15: $2,028.74.
AVERAGE DAILY SPEND SO FAR THIS MONTH: $135.25.

Big-ticket April spends so far, 15 days into the month:

Lamp, $79; luxe hand cream, $55; Giotto dinner to go + jar of imported Italian artichokes, $46; dog groomer/beauty salon, $75; vet for hamster, $157; necklace repair, $128; blowout, $55; Over the Moon, bday gifts for Punch friend + book for me, $60; Kings groceries, $132; liquor store, $32; bra/underwear/tights, $126; Joyist, $39 one day while working on assignments there; second blowout w service tips, $52; Punchy, Lululemon, $28; Justice, bday gifts and gift bag/pink tissue for Punch friend + shorts for Punch + $2 donation at register, $58; Kings groceries, $63; Joyist, $25. Steep subtotal of $1,210.

MONEY THOUGHTS: It was really helpful when Kim suggested a while back that I keep a running total of money spent as I record my daily spends. Also key that I have listed my monthly big-ticket spends in yellow and repeat the list every day, adding any other new big spends. It helps to reread the item list. Oh, right! I bought nice underwear, paid for a hamster to see the vet [even though Fig paid part of bill], bought luxe hand cream, got my hair blown out twice, had my pretty necklace repaired. The inventory review is a good reminder.

How Does Your Garden Grow?

TCOY

1. I'm not proud about missing Palm Sunday Mass, and not getting a piece of palm to fold into a cross, but Punchy was acting up big time and I didn't have the energy. I was going to go it alone, but then decided to take a nap instead, which felt good. [We often go to Mass at noon.]
2. Dan and I raked and gardened a lot. Front and back look much better, but we still have to rake backyard.
3. Pampering shampoo.
4. Walked Sug around block.
5. Went out to dinner at Egan's with Anne and Elly to celebrate all three of our birthdays. So nice to sit and catch up with them. Plus, good decaf coffee for dessert.
6. Regarding ongoing issues w Punch, I was able to calmly but firmly discuss my opinion with Dan and he heard me.

$ MONEY SPENT OUT OF POCKET

• Kings, delicious 2.5 lb. ham to bake for me and Punch, bananas, oat milk [sale], 2 loaves Ezekiel bread [sale], Skippy PB, pretty, large pot of pink tulips for my friend's bday, 3/4 pound Boar's Head deli turkey, half gallon organic whole milk, $63.34.
• Egan's, dinner + drinks out with my friends, $30.

TOTAL DAILY SPEND: $93.34.

MONTHLY SPEND AS OF APRIL 14: $1,976.71.
AVERAGE DAILY SPEND SO FAR THIS MONTH: $141.19.

Big-ticket April spends so far, 14 days into the month:

Lamp, $79; luxe hand cream, $55; Giotto dinner to go + jar of imported Italian artichokes, $46; dog groomer/beauty salon, $75; vet for hamster, $157; necklace repair, $128; blowout, $55; Over the Moon, bday gifts for Punch friend + book for me, $60; Kings groceries, $132; liquor store, $32; bra/underwear/tights, $126; Joyist, $39 one day while working on assignments there; second blowout w service tips, $52; Punchy, Lululemon, $28; Justice, bday gifts and gift bag/pink tissue for Punch friend + shorts for Punch + $2 donation at register, $58; and Kings groceries, $63. Steep subtotal of $1,185.

MONEY THOUGHTS: When supermarkets [including Kings, Whole Foods and ShopRite] offer tasting samples, I sometimes spring for the item. Do you? I have done this with a local family brand of tomato sauce and with chicken sausages. Today, I invested in a small ham to bake after tasting a generous slice with mustard. I think it will be delicious for dinners and sandwiches. It cost a lot, about $20, with $1 off per pound.