Pocket Stages, Spicy Eats and Other Nashville Notes

Standing at the microphone in the Ryman.

The Ryman Auditorium, "the mother church of country music."

Fellow writer Shea spotted this photo op, in front of one of the Ryman windows.

I was in Music City on a press trip with 10 other writers last week. We hit the Grand Ole Opry. We got all riled up with Trisha Yearwood, our hearts buoyant as she smiled and thigh-slapped in a festive pantsuit to a rollicking rendition of "She's in Love with the Boy," with the Nashville Symphony. We toured the old Ryman Auditorium (site of the original Grand Ole Opry), with church pew seating and historic windows and took a super spicy risk with Nashville Hot Chicken near the Brave Idiot. 

Nine Nashville notes, and this is just for starters:

Number 6. I could see the pretty lights from my room.

1. Ernest Tubb Record Shop downtown. Near 10 p.m. Tuesday, a band of four played on the front stage, by the window. On a pocket stage hidden in the back, two pretty, honey-voiced women strummed guitar and sang. You can hear live country music for much of the night, even into the overnight. And find the bar for a nice spicy margarita. (Stylish blonde writer Erica, from Philly, said it was good. It had sliced jalapeño and a salty rim. But it was late, and our third bar stop that night, so I resisted.)
2. Born Bathing. That's the magical/mystical beauty brand of hand, hair and body wash products in the rooms at the Fairlane, a luxury boutique hotel (pet-friendly!) that was just refurbished and reopened. My skin felt soft and pampered and smelled good, too. Even with puffy eyes and urge to stay asleep after a night out, I felt refreshed and renewed with the body wash. I just ordered two (aluminum, not plastic) bottles online.
3. National Museum of African American Music. Interactive displays. So much to see and celebrate. So much history. Shoes, dresses, jackets that belonged to music icons. Two women from our group donned (new, not vintage) gospel robes and sang along with a video in a breakout room.
4. Hot Chicken, hellfire hot. The heat scale at pinball dive lounge No Quarter starts at 1 and goes to 10. My new friend and fellow writer, Geri, and I chose 7. Brave idiots, like the name on the food truck outside. Writer Shea said my face and mouth were getting red and I better get a shot of cream, but the bartender didn't have any. Geri said salt is supposed to help, so I got a spicy margarita with salt on the rim. Ample servings of chicken, tender and juicy under the fire, served on a slice of white sandwich bread, a welcome bland foil.
5. Voodoo Doughnut in the Nashville Airport. The chain started in 2003 in Portland, OR. I had never seen it, but the pink packaging caught my eye. Bedeviling varieties include Maple Bacon Bar and Churro Cheesecake.
6. Gaylord Opryland Resort, with room terraces that look out over lush indoor gardens. A concierge suite our group could use with The Wall Street Journal, big pots of orchids, Goo Goo Clusters, coffee and chilled water. Beautiful Christmas lights and fireplaces to sit by. A family favorite. 
7. Ice, ice baby. The annual ice show at Opryland, this year with a Peanuts theme. Very cute, characters and doghouse all carved from ice. Loved it. It's one to three degrees in there, so everyone (kids and adults) has to don a blue jacket with hood. Also: Ice slides for adventure.
   
   
   
8. Housemade coffee liqueur in the espresso martini for Friday brunch at Cafe Roze. Check the top-shelf cocktail list, including Root of All Evil, with vodka, carrot and beet juice. The house-baked chocolate croissants were big enough to feed 3 or more people. (Sold out by the time we arrived.) The bacon was excellent, as was the Country Ham Toast, with a snowfall of more than an inch of finely grated Parmesan on top. 
   
   Espresso martini.
   
   
   
   See what I mean about a snowfall of grated cheese? Amazing.
   
   
9. "There will be a surprise in your room." That's what the Modern Love chef at the Fairlane said when we left breakfast. Later, by our nightstands, we each found a large, rich, architecturally crafted candy bar. White and dark chocolate with praline, caramel and pepitas. 

And that doesn't even touch on my fellow travelers. A colorful group, including food writer Rai, a beautiful young Black woman with curly hair, lovely long dresses, great accessories and shoes and a rich knowledge of food and cooking, from biscuits to bone broth. Chris, a chivalrous car aficionado who drove to meet us in Nashville. He calls himself "Christhewheeltor" on Instagram. Erica, that blonde mom and actor/writer/editor from Philly (see spicy margarita, above). And many other spirited, smart observers. 

______________________________

Below, my NY Times piece about the Loveless Cafe in Nashville in 1989, when I was a young writer in the promotion/marketing department at Seventeen Magazine and joined Dan on a short work trip to Nashville. We ate at the Loveless and then I interviewed the owner by phone from my apartment on the Jersey Shore. (I've been pitching other food stories to the Times again. It's more involved than making a call at my desk on lunch hour to Eric Asimov, who edited "At the Nation's Table." But I will keep at it.)

https://www.nytimes.com/1989/11/15/style/at-the-nations-table-nashville.html

Beach Notes

Grateful for a short getaway with Dan, which he planned. Timeless messages in a bottle I was able to discern through the sometimes cloudy, sometimes clear, weathered lens of my life view:

• Hurricanes cut a fearless, take-no-prisoners path. Erin closed the beaches yesterday (no sandy part to sit on, and the tides were menacing) and flooded the main roads pretty bad. Dan's cap was about to blow off. And today at Island Beach State Park, we were told we could only wade up to our ankles. But the weather was beautiful.
• Lifeguards are golden. Saviors in red trunks or one-pieces ran along the surf, toting weights. Then two went in and rode the giant swells, one on a yellow board that said RESCUE and one in a little boat. The waves were so big, it looked like the vessels would capsize. But they did not, with skillful guards in charge.
• Beach sleep is the best sleep. I fell into a deep one in a chair down by the water but then Erin waves washed up over my bag, my books etc. Dan appeared at that instant and I woke up with a jolt. 
• New Jersey's barrier island is (kind of) like Cape Cod. Some of the same flora, from beach roses to marsh grass. Dunes, though not as towering. But little flies bit big here in the swaying grass. The old visitor center has Cape-like treasures, including finds from shipwrecks, such as heavy canvas diver's shoes and haunting deadeyes, stuffed gulls and a spry fox. I will return.
• Surfside menus are predictable and unhealthy. You'll find sushi (good), subs, seafood, some nice iced coffee if you search, ice cream, sweet cocktails with colorful sunset names, chicken fingers, burgers, deep-fried appetizers. I had a fresh Garden State house salad with crisp cucumbers and peppers by the sea. But fries abound. I didn't finish the salad but did swipe some of Dan's French fries.
• Ocean air smells good.
• Saltwater taffy is still a seaside thing.
• Sunset over the bay is a painting. Pinks, purples, oranges. You feel fortunate to see it.
• Some beach house signs have great messages. IF YOU'RE LUCKY ENOUGH TO BE AT THE BEACH, YOU'RE LUCKY ENOUGH, one said. Another had a silhouette of a mermaid and said MERMAID X-ING, which made me think of our daughters.

Good night.

Drinking in Maine Peace

Dan, Figgy and I are up in Maine. Punch didn't want to join us, and things didn't exactly go well when we forced her to come last summer. We can't leave our teen at home alone, so Florida Orange (our goddaughter) and her husband have Punch visiting down in Florida. Very nice. They have a sweet new baby girl and Punch loves tropical climates and babies, so it's a good fit. She flew down from Newark Airport and is away the same week we are. We are house- and cat-sitting for dear family here, so that's lucky, and nice, too.

Some notes of peace and joy:

• Beautiful breeze in the trees.
• Fun ride up with Figgy. But by the end, 10 p.m. ish, she said Mom, you talk constantly. Which I do. I'm driving back with Dan Tuesday. Fig has to leave Monday for work.
• Taking care of Pat and Martha's garden. It is so lovely and fertile, bursting with orange, yellow, rose-red, geranium-pink. I wish our gardens were like this. The Maine coast just seems perfect for bright, colorful blooms.
• Lovable fat cat.
• Boats in the harbor.
• Book in my hand.
• Vermont yogurt for breakfast.
• Good coffee from Downshift in Belfast (espresso blend).
• We plan a day to walk and sightsee at Acadia National Park.
• Dan went to the strawberry farm this morning but the red gems were all picked by 11 a.m. We hope to go back Monday or Tuesday, 8 a.m.
• My mother-in-law came to the BBQ. Her daughter rented a van and her sons helped her in, and drove her back. She is 95 and even though she is forgetting a lot, she is remembering some things, too. Like my name, Alice. She also liked looking at the pond and the trees and feeling the breeze.
• Hotdogs and burgers on the grill, cooked by Mike. Grey Poupon mustard.
• Quiet time to process my brother's death. It was June 11, so quick and so recent. I have many thoughts about this, especially that John was estranged from us for decades and at the end of his life, we were involved in the most intimate details, even in cleaning out his apartment in the East Village. He told me last year that he had started to bake desserts weekly and was enjoying it. Going through his cabinets--vanilla extract, cake mix, boxes of brown sugar, cans of frosting. It all felt intimate, all of it. Not just his clothing and photos and letters but also his groceries, the chicken in the freezer, the can of San Marzano tomatoes I brought him January 1. The balsamic vinegar, the boxes of pasta.
• The walking bridge here in Belfast, so lovely. Taking strides by people on the side who hold fishing poles over the bay.

I'm trying to stay in the moment. We have been in touch with Florida Orange and Punch.....they seem good, too. Plus F.O. and husband have a big dog! Punch loves dogs. Good night.

In Stowe, Slow Comforts

Stowe Community Church in this historic village. Meg and Greg belong to

the congregation and I will join them for Sunday morning service.

I drove up to visit Meg and Greg for a Friday to Monday trip. Dan has to work at a party tomorrow night in Manhattan, writing 60-Second Novels, and Ice Spice has school, so it's just me. I didn't sleep enough last night and the night before. I was tired and fought to keep my eyes open on part of the 7-hour drive. I didn't get an iced coffee when I had the chance (Starbucks) and then the desperate coffee detour I took on an exit off Route 91 North led me to a small supermarket where the only coffee was in tiramisu or ice cream, no bottled cold brew or hot java, not even a coffee-flavored chocolate bar. I got an extreme dark bar and that caffeine seemed to kick in.

Meg treated us to dinner at the Green Mountain Inn, a fixture on Main Street in Stowe since 1833. It was a generous splurge. I had an ample slice of old-fashioned, fork-tender, perfectly seasoned prime rib au jus with baked potato and veg. Little basket of warm bread with foil-wrapped butter pats. Hot apple cider.

Slow comforts. Sitting here in the living room talking. Finally seeing, in real time, the beautiful new desk Meg showed me on FaceTime. Presenting the royal house cat, Sami, with a gift of little stuffed toy mice. Being grateful for old friends. Meg and I met at age 18, first night of college.

Good night from a nurturing place under beautiful skies and mountain peaks. #gratitude 

D.C. State of Mind

Ben and Kait's wedding. Lovely. Happy occasion. Streaks of sunlight. An outdoor fire on the deck. A million different stories in the room (or were many of them the same?) and scores of beautiful people. Sun-kissed bridesmaids from a tight-knit Virginia clan, younger blonde sisters of the pretty, gracious blonde bride, good-looking groomsmen, college friends of two generations (Ben's and Kait's, plus our friend Celia's, from Wesleyan in Connecticut). A dream NYC born-and-bred groom we watched grow from boy to man. Family who drove into Stuyvesant Town to read the Torah with Celia, her husband, Greg, Ben and her parents every Passover. Celia's grandmother's kiddush cup, the rabbi from New York City, a richly flowered chuppah symbolizing a new home for the bride and groom. The bride's godfather. Women my age, with daughters Figgy's age--every mother zipped into just the right dress, with a movie-star blowout, expensive but discreet jewelry. Handsome, fit, suntanned husbands on their arms. (Accessory note: Next wedding, I swear, I will have a pretty, organized purse, not one that is overstuffed and cannot close.)

It feels good to be just the two of us, Dan and I navigating the weekend (tho with many wedding guests, too). I would not have been able to leave comfortably without my sister staying back at home base in Montclair with Punchy. It's a freedom.

We visited the National Portrait Gallery today, got lost in that playground for about two hours. It was like following a candy trail, another and another goodie to make our eyes widen. Not just people, but also hibiscus blooms in Hawaii by Georgia O'Keefe (who was sent there by the Dole Pineapple Co. for an advertising campaign), a high Maine cliff over the sea by Winslow Homer, on and on and on. (I went to the Gallery with Kim, Nan and Liz, too--twice lucky.)

Among the Presidential Portraits, it was a treat to see Ike, George H.W. Bush, Abraham Lincoln, Jimmy Carter, Reagan, Teddy Roosevelt, Nixon (the last by Norman Rockwell, who made him look more likable). I loved the 1963 painting above of JFK by Elaine de Kooning from sittings in Palm Beach, Lilly Pulitzer country. Note the beautiful Lilly colors. So in other words, you came to the National Portrait Gallery and found Lilly Pulitzer, Dan said. Exactamundo.

John F. Kennedy / Elaine de Kooning / Oil on canvas, 1963 / National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution / © 1963 Elaine de Kooning Trust. The following copy from https://npg.si.edu/blog/elaine-de-koonings-jfk  "When I first saw him, he was bigger than life. It wasn’t that he was really taller than the others. But he seemed to be in a different dimension. The eyes were a total surprise to me. I have never seen the color in photographs—the violet of grapes!" In the golden sunlight of Florida, Kennedy seemed to radiate warmth and color—and an energy that became a struggle for the artist: "All my sketches from life as he talked on the phone, jotted down notes, read papers, held conferences, had to be made very quickly, catching features and gestures, half for memory, even as I looked, because he never sat still. It was not so much that he seemed restless, rather, he sat like an athlete or college boy, constantly shifting in his chair. At first this impression of youthfulness was a hurdle, as was the fact that he never sat still."

President Obama.

Stardust ballroom portrait of me with our longtime friend Celia, the mother of the groom.

P.S. Celia and other Jewish friends, I hope I got the Jewish traditions right.

Amish Country, Another World

I bought this book (look at the cover photo!) at 

The Quilt Shop at Miller's, which my friends and I visited today. 

It is stocked with quilts big and small

hand-stitched by a total of about 30 women in the local Amish community.

We drove around Lancaster County towns* with names like Bird-in-Hand, New Holland and Intercourse. (I got Dan a gray T-shirt with that last name on it--a popular souvenir, based on the number in stock. I knew he would laugh, and wear it.) 

We saw families in horse-drawn black buggies heading to and from Sunday services. Somber and unadorned but for the prance of the workhorses, tails swishing, and the smile of a young blonde boy in one who helped hold the reins. 

My friend, a close observer of everything from baby turtles on Cape Cod to tiny birds skittering on the ocean, pointed out a meeting house. Many buggies were lined up outside, the handsome, responsible horses waiting like protective parents. Boys in black garb joshing energetically outside. Down the road, more boys near a barn, jumping on a mountain of spare tires. Drive a little more, three boys playing baseball, one lifting a leather mitt for a catch. 

A young woman (late teen?) on a bicycle. Women in head covers, dresses, sensible shoes. Absence of Clairol hair color. Coarse, steely gray at the temples can age a woman quickly and make the husband in black walking next to her look many years her junior. But more likely that was a mother and son, not husband and wife, walking home from Sunday services.

I did not spy any groups of girls playing or jumping, letting out pent-up energy, bouncing.

Many of the shops were closed on Sunday. But we peeked on a store porch and saw things we loved. A metal bucket painted sky-blue. Old shutters. Enchanting birdhouses with copper roofing. A stone bird statue to stand in a garden.

We found a coffee shop (a chain) that was open for lunch and many Amish/maybe Mennonite teens and families were there. A boy with blonde bowl haircut, he and his cohorts drinking bottles of chocolate milk in farm country, not Starbucks-style iced coffee drinks. Teen girls with white head covers and long dresses, chatting with peers, maybe checking their cell phones, just like teens in Montclair madness. Two parents and a child holding hands and bowing their heads to pray before eating their grilled sandwiches.

I saw a lot of beauty and peace in their lifestyle, a lot of thanking God for your blessings. I sensed grace, friendliness and a certain brand of positivity, independence. That's cool, and soothing. But of course, the restricted gender roles, the exhausting physical work, the narrow views and no Netflix or NY Times word games. No pretty or shapely fashions, sweetheart necklines or cute tights, right? No-nonsense, modest shoes. Simple bonnets. No salon blowouts or makeup, but if you're lucky, natural rosebuds in your cheeks from eating right, drinking milk and living a fit lifestyle. Woven baskets and net shopping totes (we overlap on that last one). No women as scientists or writers--no men either? IDK how the beat goes on when the modern world as we know it has changed so much. It seems like a secret cult and I'm sorry if that is insulting.

At the shops by Miller's Smorgasboard (since 1929), we saw pickled veggies and jars of jam, sweet shoofly pies and big blocks of Amish farm butter. Raisin bread, potato rolls, whoopie pies and giant peanut butter cookies. The old-fashioned foods live on. At the quilt shop there, we had to don white cotton gloves if we wanted to touch the quilts, and turn them in when we left. I bought a cheerful quilted baby book about farm animals for a special baby girl (and TBH, just as much for her young mommy), a gift for Sis, a quilted potholder with a bird in the design for Figgy's new apartment, a blue and green Christmas potholder for our kitchen and something I could not resist--a small red and green themed "mug mat" in pretty holiday fabric. 

I have long loved the images of candy canes and Christmas trees. Ever since grade school, they have been my favorite things to draw/doodle when I should be concentrating on something else. Candy canes, Christmas trees, packages with big bows and what Figgy calls "the lady" that I have drawn since sixth grade art class at Saint Mary's. 

I also drew her with young Fig on Nantucket or Martha's Vineyard when we were waiting for a restaurant order with Dan. Draw the lady, she would say. My lady has a V-neck top, knee-length skirt, belt with stylish round buckle, necklace, heels, wide eyes with lashes and fishnet stockings (for fashion and because I like to fill blank spaces with orderly patterns, like the stripes on a candy cane or a ball-shaped ornament on the tip of each tree bough).  I started drawing her when I wore the same school uniform every day for eight years: navy plaid pleated skirt, white shirt, navy vest, navy knee socks--and navy snap neck tie, I think? (How old am I that I waver on this memory?) I know Sis has the neck tie on in a school photo, but she is seven years older.

I want to watch the 1985 movie "Witness" again, starring Kelly McGinnis (as an Amish woman) and Harrison Ford.

We are back home now. Monday morning coming up next. It was good to catch up with my girlfriends, including five+ hours of car time.

Good night.

*Per nytimes.com: There were about 341,900 Amish people living in 31 states and four Canadian provinces as of June 2019, according to statistics compiled by the Young Center for Anabaptist and Pietist Studies at Elizabethtown College in Elizabethtown, Pa. About 63 percent live in Ohio, Pennsylvania and Indiana, the center said. Lancaster County, Pa., has the largest Amish population in the United States, with about 39,255 people, it said.....In 2019, three Amish children died in Michigan after a car plowed into the back of their horse-drawn buggy, underscoring an all-too-common danger faced by the Amish, who reject automobiles and other modern technology.

Good Night from Pennsylvania Amish Country

                                             Ohio Amish CountryPhotograph by Mary Timman  fineartamerica.com                           

 

Mini girls' trip, two of us leaving Montclair 4:45 p.m. and arriving by 8 p.m. this Saturday night in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, where our third formerly Montclair girlfriend just located to a great apartment. The three of us had an Indian dinner in the city and toured the great new apartment with the great (newly purchased) midcentury modern sofa and the cute cat and the organized cookbook shelf.

First friend found this Airbnb in Amish Country, a 30-minute drive from Lancaster proper, an old city that looks cool architecturally, historically, culturally and in kindness (it has a big mission to help the homeless and underprivileged, and our friend has already volunteered there). We two are sharing this very affordable and very well-appointed place for one night. Tomorrow the three of us meet up again at 10 a.m. and explore the pretty patchwork of Amish farms, horse and buggy wagons, a quilt shop, etc. Traveling back in time.

We plan to start the 2-hour drive back by 3:30 or 4 p.m. I hope to report back tomorrow with interesting findings.

Good night from a place where electricity is often shunned (but not in this Airbnb).

Link to photo above here.

Postcard from My Life

Dan and me last Monday in The Sunshine State. We flew down for five nights to attend the wedding of Florida Orange, our goddaughter. We stayed in Homestead, where the wedding took place. The drive to Miami was about 40 minutes. Photo by Punch.

I can't believe I haven't blogged since November.

On the other side of our Florida trip, I wanted to jot a few notes. We returned last Wednesday.

We packed not just our suitcases, with swimsuits, sunscreen, and wedding clothes, but also our complicated and wrinkly-crinkly personalities, of course. Dan booked on Travelocity and instead of the two lovely, chilled, carefully decorated and kitchen- and laundry-equipped Airbnb homes we splurged on the last two years (the first was steps from the beach), this was the Travelodge by Wyndham Florida City Homestead Everglades motel with a free hot breakfast. (Even so, it was about $1,000 total for five nights and every room was full, many with foreign tourists.) We also had to get plane tickets for three of us, etc. and not overspend. (Fig flew JetBlue and has rewards.)

We did relax, even though we shared one room with two queen beds. I tried to prepare myself mentally ahead of time for that togetherness. (Figgy spent three out of five nights with the bride in Boynton Beach.) We were busy a lot. A rental car means everything. We explored Key Largo a little; drove to South Beach, Miami and enjoyed the gorgeous blue water and the beauty of the breeze; attended the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. Three of Dan's four brothers and two of my sisters-in-law flew down from Maine, and it was fun catching up among palm trees, also with the parents and brothers of the bride!

Figgy, 28, and Punch, on the cusp of 17, at the wedding. 

Torrential rain in the botanic garden outside, so Punch put on a sweatshirt.

My sister-in-law Martha texted this, saying Figgy's look 

reminded her of  the Portrait of Madame X painting 

by John Singer Sargent, 1884. 

I checked out the Robert Is Here tropical fruit stand, colorful and fun. It was under "Things to Do" on the couple's Knot website. I got a fresh mango smoothie with Splenda and had them add raw kale. That was healthy but the green hue not nearly as nice as pure sunny mango would have been on a rainy Florida day. I drove 15 minutes to a Sprouts supermarket, which I hadn't been able to find at home.  They carry the California brand Sweet Laurel's baking mixes (healthy, no refined sugar, also vegan for Fig). They only had the scone mix, but I scooped it up and tucked the pretty pink box in my carry-on.

Punchy did some good things. Florida Orange and Figgy invited her to hang with them and sleep over one night, so she took the train from the Miami Airport to Boynton Beach, responsibly and safely. Dan got her on the train and FLO and Fig met her on the other end. She also went back and forth to the Travelodge pool, sporting her sunglasses and a nice black swimsuit I got her. 

That afternoon in South Beach was pricey, as New York City would be for out-of-towners who don't know the place well. But we had the most enormous slices of pizza I have ever seen, just positively giant. We watched volleyball games with the sea as a backdrop. Driving back to Homestead, Punch and I drifted off into peaceful late afternoon naps after breathing in that beach air. That was a gift.

FLO and Eric tie the knot. Sweet couple. 

They crushed on each other back when; Eric is a friend of FLO's older bro.

Figgy and FLO before.

Figgy and FLO day after wedding.

Dan and FLO.

************************************

I stopped blogging because I wanted to dig in more to writing for pay, and I have. I wanted to stop spending day after day focused on a teenager's life, fielding calls from the high school, swinging at a curve ball with a ping-pong paddle. My efforts seemed fruitless. I was and am a caring witness but no one is equipped to fully fix things, not the trained staffers at a huge public school, though they tried, and surely not Dan or me. Punchy's out-of-district school placement since last March has helped greatly. I have six hours without phone calls and worries, without requests to come get her. She is in a safer place. We also consider her over-one-year relationship with her supportive boyfriend (blog name Great Smile Deep Thinker) helpful.

Still, even with the uninterrupted time, it's a bit of a crawl to make meaningful money. Publications like Brain & Life (about living with neurological diagnoses, from Alzheimer's disease to Parkinson's) pay five times as much as my lifestyle writing--which is called content production now, for the website of the golden Seven Sisters* magazine I will always hold close to my heart. But after 100+ years, that magazine has cut back from 12 issues a year to six. It's sad. Advertisers want instant clicks and purchases. They can't wait around for glossy print ads to grab a reader's purse strings. Everything is #rightnow.

I'm happy to say I've enjoyed all of the assignments. New skills. Anyway, here are three of my most recent articles:

• 12 Best Laundry Detergents of 2024, According to Cleaning Pros Good Housekeeping website
• Young Romeo & Juliet, Neurodiverse Production Brain & Life website and print magazine (subscriptions are free, and bilingual)
• Behind The Design: 5 Creative Questions With Sarah Sherman Samuel aspire design and home website

I'm broadening my horizons and it's great to be working closely again with one of my GH colleagues. 

But a funny thing happened.....just as writing about fashion eventually pumped up my style wanting and spending, even writing about CLEANING PRODUCTS has affected my buying of those. 

It's always been the case, the whole point of lifestyle writing featuring products is to make people want to get stuff. Turns out this can also work with the writer. 

I've now purchased Diptyque (pronounced DIP-TEAK) made-in-Paris wood and leather polish; Dreft baby laundry detergent in the pink bottle (I had a $3 coupon and after all, wrote "The rest of the family will also like the beloved 'Baby Fresh' scent that Dreft delivers," which I have found to be true when I could finally nab a bottle at my store) and reconnected with Caldrea, a brand I met on a Hudson Valley weekend 10 years back but hadn't encountered since. I also bought Safely detergent in a pretty colored jug at Whole Foods on Madison Avenue one Saturday when I had the car in NYC. 

These four purchases racked up a lot of spending but I think it's productive spending, as in cleaning our old wood and making the laundry smell lovely if I can. As Moey's mother, Muriel, wisely told me when I was a newlywed, getting a cleaning product that smells good helps you do the chore.

Good night to you.

*Seven Sisters can refer to a climbing hybrid rose, a cluster of stars or the group of women's (or formerly women's) colleges in the eastern U.S. having high academic and social prestige. It includes Barnard, Bryn Mawr, Mount Holyoke, Radcliffe, Smith, Vassar and Wellesley. 

For the magazine world, I like this Wikipedia definition:

The Seven Sisters is a group of magazines that has traditionally been aimed at married women who are homemakers with husbands and children, rather than single and working women.^[1] The name is derived from the Greek myth of the "seven sisters", also known as the Pleiades. A major force in 20th century American publishing, only three of the magazines are still published as physical magazines:

• Better Homes and Gardens (1922–)
• Family Circle (1932–2019)
• Good Housekeeping (1885–)
• Ladies' Home Journal (1883–2016)
• McCall's (1873–2002)
• Redbook (1903–2019)
• Woman's Day (1937–)

Check out https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_Sisters_(magazines) for more details.

Wakeup Call: You Can Run, But You Can’t Hide

Above: Picture these beautiful orange cups and saucers--echoing brilliant leaf colors in Lenox, Massachusetts--in generous latte sizes. I sat outside and nursed my cupful at Lenox Coffee, on Main Street.

I stole away to the Berkshire Mountains, a glorious range in Massachusetts, for two nights by myself.

It wasn’t really stealing or sneaking, because I let my family know. But it was a determined plan to get away alone  and nurture myself. 

I overpacked, as usual, with high hopes for doing my nails (nope) and reading from a stack of five books. Oh, the glory of road trips, no TSA inspections, just pile on the scarves and books and CPAP machine, no hassles.

I came looking for inner peace and perspective, and I found some. 

Was it in the meditation class at 5:30 p.m.? The facial, with steam on my face and a rich lip dip at the end? (I wanted to buy that lip salve, but I think the tiny jar was about $70 before tax. Still, I’m not dismissing it entirely. It felt so plump and pillowy,  and in the light of the boutique, the magical balm seemed to glisten with a hint of gold.) 

I planned not to talk about my consuming worries about Punch on this getaway. To stop getting lost in them. To stay in the present, in the moment. I did pretty well, though did talk to my longtime friend Candy, who lives not far from here, and this morning, to Jay and Anthony, two young men running the hotel’s front desk. It was quiet, and they were kind.

Sometimes it’s good to talk to strangers, who don’t know you and your story at home, Jay said.

Yes.

But I’ve found that in general, I overshare too much in life and I can’t afford to do that anymore because I lose myself and swim in worry. It is never too late to learn to be a better listener and less of a talker.

It's time to pack up, shower, lug the bags back to the car. I think I will try to visit "The Mount," Edith Wharton’s estate nearby, before heading home. The foliage is so pretty everywhere I turn.

Praying for peace and acceptance and the continued ability to shower every day, meditate, walk in nature, do my writing assignments and allot a few minutes for my makeup (concealer and mascara, a bit of foundation).

Practicing self-care helps soften our footprint in the world, so we are not so scared, reactionary, off-course. Steady as she goes.

Dress Dream

I slept soundly here in the small Cape May hotel, where masks are required in the one common area (front desk, with Plexiglass drop-down, morning coffeepot in small lobby), and I dreamt of a pink dress.

A woman with buttery cocoa-colored skin was wearing it. She was friendly and smiling when I inquired about the dress.

I loved it in pink--it was a style I already owned (in the dream), from wash-and-wear Karina Dresses. I told her that.

Wow I didn’t know it came in pink!

She smiled. She was with other people, and holding a beverage glass. Her dark, curly hair was shoulder-length.

It wasn’t taffy-pink, bubblegum pink, strawberry ice cream pink, baby pink or a burst of Lilly Pulitzer pink. It was a modern pink, so great. Kind of mauve-y, new, hip.

I went on the site now, and there are sales, but I could don’t find the dress from the dream--nor is it in my budget at the moment, in any case. It had flattering 3/4 sleeves, a V-neck and a mauve background with large floral print. The woman looked so pretty and at ease. Confident, stylish.

Here is the closest I could find this morning on the Karina site:

Above: The Megan Dress in color Bliss. Link here.

I think the dream might be a subconscious reminder that I have a Lilly Pulitzer dress with a V-neck, pink background, large flowers and 3/4 sleeves that I can wear on Easter Sunday. I just need a smooth new pair of tan/suntan pantyhose.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, I’ve enjoyed simple things we’ve all forgotten about hotel life, such as:

• The heating/AC unit in the room--choose your temp.
• The ice machine. Haha. I love ice.
• The Keurig coffee maker. We don’t have one at home; convenient and fun.
• The bedside lamps--navy base, white shade--with outlets built into the base--that smart hotel invention for cell phone plug-ins.
• The streamlined white kitchenette, with fridge, utensils, microwave, sleek storage.
• Sleek white wardrobe/closet--so neat, with cubbies for shoes, etc.
• The fresh green liquid Eau d’Italie soap that Sis gave me for Christmas. I brought it with us and it smells so good. I saved it for travels. I see it is very expensive--Sis is generous. We learned about it in a Sniffapalooza fragrance lovers’  Zoom event before the holidays.
• The balcony, to see the sea.

Positano, Italy soap link.

My friend Kim in a beautiful dress. I’m wearing my pink and blue Lilly dress--we had a lot of fun on that evening Strategic Communications cruise around New York City several years back.

Time to move on. I procrastinate a lot about taking a shower. :) And about eating breakfast sometimes. I sliced half a pear and half an apple and put almond butter on a piece of wheat bread almost two hours ago and haven’t eaten it yet. It’s noon! Heading out to little balcony, wearing sweatshirt (cool out).

Whisked Away

I love my siblings. So if you happen to know my brother Will--who lives in NYC and doesn't read my blog--I guess please don't tell him that I didn't ask to stay in our family house that he and Kelly now own on the Cape.

It's just--they are very neat in their city apartment, and at the house. As you know, because I've written about it many times, when we leave the house on the Cape, we are expected to follow a whole list of cleaning steps. The older I get, and the more stressful my everyday life has gotten, the less willing I am to have that looming on the last day of vacation. It takes a whole day, by the time we haul out all the laundry and sheets (no washer and dryer there); clean the fridge (and I do mean clean it, not just empty it); sort all recyclables and haul to the dump with the trash; clean the bathroom, etc. etc.

My brother frowns on us hiring a cleaning service upon exit.

So when I zip up to the Cape for two or three nights, I'm not willing to take on that housework commitment. What's nice about going off-season is that room rates dip....and staying in an inn, hotel or Airbnb, I can just pack up my things and leave. That is so different and very restful.

Here's what I DID NOT have to do yesterday:

• Swab down fridge drawers with cleaning spray and paper towels.
• Pack up all of the groceries we bring back home, everything from ketchup to milk to eggs.
• Mop kitchen floor.
• Vacuum rugs.
• Clean window wells, which collect dirt up there.
• Dust wood furniture.
• Sweep up sand.
• Shake out throw rug.
• Urge Dan to get to the dump before it closes. (What would we do if we missed that? Too much trash and paper/glass/plastic to haul home to NJ. We would not have enough room in the car for ourselves, our luggage and our dog, Sugar.)
• Pack a zillion bags of things I brought up with me, including some cooking ingredients (such as pure vanilla extract); kitchen equipment (such as a cheese grater); clothing; beach towels and beach bags; several sunscreens, for variety;  journals; magazines; work folders; candles; beauty products; nature guides; magazines; stack of books; accessories; and CPAP machine.
• Gather from several rooms what I collected that trip on the Cape--stones, shells, pine cones, a jar of Cape Cod sea salt, a bag of coffee beans from the Hot Chocolate Sparrow--and maybe a speckled pink whale mug and a soft pink Eastham sweatshirt.
• Make sure all windows are locked, shades pulled halfway down (I'm serious).
• Mow lawn.
• Check refinished wood floors to be sure we cleaned up every spill and Sugar pee accident.

Have a good day.

Sisters

I love being with my Sis--but when I saw the rocky coast of Newport, this venerable old seaport, after you drive past the sprawling mansions and over to the craggy edge, I wished Dan, Figgy and Punch--even Sug--had been with us, too.

Seeing nature in its most remarkable state is a memory, a compass point. I loved witnessing it with Sis and Buttercup, don't get me wrong. But feeling small next to the water, knowing that life changes and tides turn, and a coast can be awe-inspiring for a visitor but treacherous for a boat.....I guess I wanted to be at that compass point with all of the people closest to me, including Sis. I wanted us all to see that wonder together, not just to shoulder through everyday life making coffee, waking to alarms, packing lunches, sharpening pencils, doing homework....I wanted us to see that striking beauty together.

I'm tired. Good night.

TCOY

1. Sis, Butter and I enjoyed our walk!
2. Short nap before dinner.
3. Spinach.

$ MONEY SPENT OUT OF POCKET

• Anchored in Pink, the Lilly Pulitzer signature store on Thames Street [thanks for the tip, Celia]. Got my new Lilly agenda for October 2019 through December 2020. With tax, $32.10. Life looks good moving forward.
• Mokka Coffeehouse, on Spring Wharf, light lunch and coffees for me and Sis, plus tip jar, $25.
• Dinner in our hotel steakhouse, very good, I treated; Sis generously paid for our room. With cocktail, dessert and tip, $78.
• Vending machine, bottles of water for me and Sis, $4.

TOTAL DAILY SPEND: $139.10.

Ongoing spend for month as of October 12: $954.64.
Average daily spend: $79.55. Danger, Will Robinson: That avg daily spend is higher than last month's as of now. I knew it would spike when traveling to Newport, with food etc. Will try to bring it down.

COMPARE TO TWO PRIOR MONTHS:

TOTAL SPEND FOR SEPTEMBER (30 DAYS): $2,214.43.🍎⬇️

AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $73.81.🍎⬇️

TOTAL SPEND FOR AUGUST (31 DAYS): $2,895.06. ⬆️

AUGUST AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $93.39.  ⬆️

Newport News

I rose at 6, got Punch to school and worked hard all day, with a vet appointment for Sug in between. Then I boarded the 6:45 pm bus to NYC, worked on my laptop at the Starbucks in the Port Authority [some pressing deadlines] and walked across town to catch the 9:06 pm express train from Grand Central to Stamford. Sis was waiting at the end of the taxi line at 9:56 pm.

Tired now, and rising around 6:30 because Sis, Buttercup and I are driving to Newport, Rhode Island! We will dine at the historic Yacht Club there, walk around, relax. I first went there decades ago with Moey. I remember the mansions, and taking a ferry to Block Island but missing our stop on the way back.

I love road trips, especially to New England. We were going to try for the Cape this weekend--I was hoping to meet a Cape Cod Life Magazine editor for coffee. I had reached out and looks like I will get to write for her, but she is away this weekend. So Newport fell into place! Sis has gone there many times, for both Jazz Festival and sailing friends. My friend Celia goes there, too, because her Dad and his brothers grew up there.

I do have to write articles in between, but Sis is concerned about Columbus Day Weekend traffic, so we might leave by 8:30. I will try to make a dent in the next article I have to file before we take off. It's pretty short.

Good night to you.

TCOY

1. Relaxing hot bath with Epsom salts.
2. Applied makeup, including brightening eye cream, which I like.
3. Ate healthfully. Coffee as treat, smoked salmon, sourdough bread, roasted cauliflower, chicken cutlets, roasted peppers and squash, turkey Sis made.
4. Walked across NYC from Port to Grand Central.

$ MONEY SPENT OUT OF POCKET [not listing vet, high bill of $215 for blood work to check for heartworm; one shot; steroid injection to ease Sug's shot reaction; and eye area trim/cleanup.]

• Trusty, kind mechanic, money owed for oil change, $45.
• Post office, card plus postage for 3 items, $8.44.
• Round trip bus to NYC, about $15.
• Round trip train to Stamford, off-peak, $23.
• Roasted cauliflower side dish, about $8.50.

TOTAL DAILY SPEND: $99.95.

Ongoing spend for month as of October 11: $815.54.
Average daily spend: $74.14. Danger, Will Robinson: That avg daily spend is higher than last month's as of now. Watch it, which might be hard when traveling to Newport, with gas, food etc. But today's spend does count bus and train fare back home for Monday.

COMPARE TO TWO PRIOR MONTHS:

TOTAL SPEND FOR SEPTEMBER (30 DAYS): $2,214.43.🍎⬇️

AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $73.81.🍎⬇️

TOTAL SPEND FOR AUGUST (31 DAYS): $2,895.06. ⬆️

AUGUST AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $93.39.  ⬆️

We Drive to Maine Tomorrow!

Our nephew, Matt, is getting married to Lauren at 1 pm on Saturday! I'm excited, and it's also a pretty time of year up there. Must sleep so can get up early and finish packing. My Sis packs days ahead; I usually finish day of. Still have room to change that in the future. Hope to. Good night.

TCOY, Day 4 off Sugar Road

1. Blowout.
2. I've been missing 7 am Tuesday/Thursday support group and 8 am yoga. This abrupt change to 6 am wake-up for middle school has thrown me for a loop. I've been too tired. So today I asked Fig if she would switch to do Tuesdays and Thursdays. I can then get up and get myself to 7 am meeting. She said sure! It does mean, tho, that I would then be rising early for up to 4 mornings a week [Dan does the 5th school morning].
3. Nice mushroom barley soup at Marcel, where I went with my laptop. None of those delicious dainty, buttery cookies.
4. Caught up with Rach.
5. Also had green salad, chickpeas and carrot-ginger soup.
6. Walked about 40 minutes, home from town, around town, etc.
7. Long chat with Sis.

$ MONEY SPENT OUT OF POCKET

• Uber to salon, plus tip, $8.
• 212 Salon & Day Spa, shampoo by Ani and blowout by Christina, $35 plus tips, so $46. We are leaving with Punch tomorrow morning and returning Monday, which is, conveniently, a school holiday for Rosh Hashanah. I highly doubt my hairdo will survive today's rain, tonight's and tomorrow night's darn CPAP head straps and tomorrow's 450-mile car drive, but I had to do it. Christina used a flat iron in the hopes that it might hold longer.
• Kings, Stumptown Coffee! [Freshly roasted in Brooklyn, $3 off, so $11.99. I generally resist these pricey beans at Whole Foods and Montclair Bread Co. The 12-oz. bags are $15 to $16 on stumptowncoffee.com, plus shipping.] Bags of mixed nuts and walnuts for car ride; good rye bread [plan on bringing tuna salad sandwiches]; 2 Super Dark, low-sugar chocolate bars; Thai salad kit from produce aisle; slim box of milk chocolate Schoolboy cookies for Punch [back-seat property, I don't want any]; big bunch bananas; Wicked Joe Coffee; fresh spinach; dozen cage-free eggs; quart half and half, $63.13.
• Marcel Bakery & Kitchen to meet/talk to my friend Rach until her parking meter ran out, large bowl mushroom barley soup, $1 reward, plus $1 tip, $6.76.
• Same, iced coffee plus tip, about $4.

TOTAL DAILY SPEND: $127.89.
RUNNING SPEND FOR MONTH AS OF SEPT. 26: $,1942.43.
AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $74.70.

Rainy Day & No WiFi

I really want to write, fingers flying over Rose Gold MacBook keyboard. But I can’t.
No WiFi at family house and now, for some reason, I can’t get on the internet at the Hot Chocolate Sparrow.
It gets tiring to squint at this tiny iPhone screen. I much prefer my laptop.
But it is what it is.
Really want to update Cape Cod spending.
Days kind of jumbled but want to jot and get out of this crowded, caffeine-crazed spot at the moment.
Will go to library to write tomorrow if need be. Hope that will work.

CAPE COD, GOING IN DEEP, MONEY SPENT OUT OF POCKET 💰 

• Eastham info booth, pink sweatshirt, $30.
• Audubon annual family membership, $65.
• Sparrow right now w Punch, pressed sandwiches and coffee drinks for two, $21.86.
• Jar tip, $1.
• Sunbird breakfast sandwich W citrus mayonnaise on grilled ciabatta plus expensive coffee beans from, of all places, Portland, Maine, plus tip, $27.
• Log Cabin Farm on roadside, radishes, large local honey and 2 white peaches, $13.60.
• Hole in One Donuts, stopped in for Punch when we drove Dan to Hyannis bus station at 7 a.m., plus $1 tip, $11.42.
• Shop nearby for Punch camp sandwich plus excellent vintage book and tip, $21.33. [The shop sells sandwiches and has a shelf of vintage books.]
• Audubon gift shop, small turtle rug for home; bird gift for Figgy; goat milk body wash; Bee Boss Body Balm, which I love for lips, too; small owl wall calendar for family, $87.83.
• Cumberland Farms, milk, bananas, small Fritos, $5.89.
• Ditto, fill tank with gas, about $2.94 per gallon, $46.17.
• Stop & Shop groceries, plant for front stoop, $20 sunglasses, etc., $51.99.
• Sparrow large iced coffee, $3.15.
• Sparrow dark chocolate baking morsels and 4 oz. fudge for Punch, $13.19.

Don't  want to keep Punch here so long on her iPad, junk food for the brain. So far, all August expenses--if I added them up right in my rush--come to:

$676.94 as of August 6

AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $112.82. That's trending high.
And it's 5:27 p.m. and we are still dashing into Stop & Shop for dinner ingreds and laundry detergent.

Hot big-ticket spends for August include: Audubon shop, rug, gifts, beauty products, etc., $88; Vineyard Vines skort, I thought free shipping but no, $79; Eastham pink sweatshirt, $30; Cape Stop & Shop, $52; Cape Cod gasoline, $46; Sunbird, very good breakfast sandwich and very good coffee beans, $27. 

Have a nice evening. My WIFI magically came on at about 5 p.m. :) So funny, such a small, small world. A fellow from Montclair--was and likely still is? an editor at The New York Times--just walked in here for a coffee on the Cape.