Full Tilt

A photographer's interpretation of the Tilt-A-Whirl.

I felt many things just now as I rode up on the elevator from the sleek business center, after completing a deadline. They mostly ended in ful. I started out feeling grateful for my hands, my fingers, my brain, that they can capably create. They are proficient. And then I kind of blew that when I got back to the condo and ate all the wrong things [a lemon bar, a small pack of Raisinets, a chocolate bar] and too much of the okay things [brushetta, light Cheddar, extra-dark pretzels, graham crackers]. 

Why did I have to spin down to the depths? Why couldn't I just stay positive, stay up,  believe? I can do so many things right, how come avoiding overeating is not one of them? [Well, it was almost midnight and all I'd had for dinner was a cup of yogurt and a bag of Cheetos from the vending machine. Still, I want to live better and treat myself right, not wrong.] 

My own personal Tilt-A-Whirl--from positive to negative [and back again to positive, I now realize] in 30 minutes flat. 

1. Grateful.
2. Thankful.
3. Peaceful.
4. Hopeful.
5. Wishful.
6. Willful.
7. Forceful.
8. Regretful.
9. Hateful.
10. Remorseful.
11. Full.
12. Faithful.
13. Thoughtful.
14. Mindful.

Better days ahead. Starting with tomorrow. 

Here's the link to the cool photo above: http://www.redbubble.com/people/jnotti/art/3933342-2-tilt-a-whirl. The actual ride called a Tilt-A-Whirl does not look like this, but that's fine by me. This artist, Jeff Notti, caught the tilting idea just right.

True Happiness: Magazines

I read any magazine I could get my hands on, including Will's Boys' Life.

I've loved them since Highlights and American Girl, my Mom's The New Yorker and [for a short while] Better Homes and Gardens, my Dad's Time and National Geographic, Parade in the Sunday Record, Reader's Digest at Uncle Anthony's apartment when we went for dinner. Even my brother Will's Boys' Life and MAD, Sis's Tiger Beat and, of course, the few copies of Seventeen I had. Oh, and the magazines like Mademoiselle that Moey brought to the Shore. 

As long as it had two covers with articles, ads, photos and illustrations in between, I was fascinated. [I think the only exception was Dad's Chemical & Engineering News, published by the American Chemical Society.] If the ads promoted beauty products like Bonne Bell Ten-O-Six astringent or Lip Smackers, Sweet Honesty perfume or "Gee, Your Hair Smells Terrific" shampoo, all the better. It was my dream to work at a magazine. My dream came true, and I loved it. Still do, still proud to be a freelance writer for some of the best magazines and now websites, too.

But it can be an expensive habit. Today, couldn't resist three indulgences at the checkout line:

Cook's Illustrated, October [already!!!!] issue, $5.95. Going to make the A-List Apple Crisp for us at the Cape next week. H. and Figgy adore apple crisp.

O, The Oprah Magazine, September issue, $4.50.  Cover lines I love:

• MEDITATE AND LOSE WEIGHT
• SUZE ORMAN TO THE RESCUE: Cleaning up a mess of debt
• How to Get a Great Job [I like the fashion/style makeovers for women around my age]

The Best of Fine Cooking Tailgating, $9.99. I know, that was a splurge. But I couldn't resist. It's not a magazine, it's a lifestyle--like all good magazines. This one is packed with fabulous recipes and alluring photos.

In the scheme of things, they are small, simple pleasures. And wonderful escapes from the everyday world. Long live the magazine. It rules, and it rocks.

I've never forgotten this ad! What brilliant marketing to the teenage girl. I absolutely wanted to be her, to have her clothing, her hair and her admiring lab partner.

The Good, the Bad & the Ugly

While I was trying to scale my own personal mountain, H. and Figgy were scaling awesome Mt. Katahdin.

Good:

1. The rain. I like how it feels, how it sounds, how it looks and what it does. H. grew an amazing tomato this summer already, thanks in part to the rains. His tomato looks and tastes as good as the local heirloom tomatoes at Whole Foods. And it has that farmy, imperfect shape and color--nothing forced or cellophane-packed about it.
2. The very pretty granite remnant I found at the granite place for our new bathroom vanity at home. Its swirly, pebbly gray and white pattern reminds me of Maine's rocky coast. And because it's a remnant, it's also a steal compared to full price. 
3. Whole Foods in Paramus being open til 10, so I was able to stop in and get some healthy-ish foods on my way home from the hospital.
4. Call from my sister-in-law Therese in Maine today. She caught me on my cell at the FedEx store and told me she hopes things with Dad unfold as they should, and that she has come to realize that nature is a good teacher, showing us the beautiful way things grow and go in cycles. I was the woman crying by the door. She also gave me some ideas--bring ice cream to Dad, talk about fun things we did. I did both. Brought a Ben & Jerry's coffee shake [he only had a few sips] and talked about the barbecue pit he dug in the ground out back and the baby bird he tried to save by feeding with my dolly bottle. 
5. The hospital chapel, open all hours.
6. Generous friends and family--generous with their time, their laughter, their hearts, their compassion, their phone calls, their car. They know who they are.
7. H., Figgy, H.'s brothers Pat and Dave and Dave's teen son Will hiked to the top of Mount Katahdin in Maine today. They left Bangor about 4:30 A.M. to drive there and H. didn't get back to the parking lot till about 8 P.M. I think it takes 10 hours to go up and down that giant mountain. I spoke to Figgy after. It was really hard, but it was worth it, she said. The view from the summit was amazing. May her mountain-climbing power stand her in good stead. May her inner strength at [almost] 15 propel her forward in the right direction through life.

Bad: 

1. Dad still not up and walking. Still barely eating. Catch-22: If you don't eat, you won't get nourishment and have the strength to stand up. And if you can't stand, we can't let you even try walking. But it's a circle--how do you break in and win? Will you get the chance and seize it?
2. We still have to select a nursing home, worst of all. Sis and I hope Dad can leave by Monday but we really don't know.

Ugly:

1. Dad being in pain for hours this evening. He was moaning and groaning and highly uncomfortable. It's not like him to moan and groan. He was writhing in pain, pulling out the oxygen tube, trying to get his hospital gown off his shoulder. Ow, ooh, ow, he said over and over. First, the nurses thought changing the Depends and switching his position in bed would help. But it didn't. He has a bed sore and a rash and also feels penned in that bed after more than three weeks. Finally, I asked them to give him a painkiller, but it took about an hour to work. This was agonizing. I felt helpless. I kept trying. He asked me again and again to fix the pillow at his head, move the one under his feet. Observing someone I love in pain made me think of how men must feel when they have to stand by and let their women do the work of giving birth. It also made me think of my Dad's mother and how she would feel about this, her baby boy. Can she see from heaven, do you think? And I remembered that book Death Be Not Proud, written by John Gunther about his teenage son Johnny, who died of a brain tumor at 17. Johnny's parents surely went through some of this.
2. Seeing a hint of a bad side in someone you only want to see good in. I only want to see good in his nurses, not someone "joking" with my Dad that he must say the magic word to get another spoonful of God-awful hospital mashed potatoes and reconstituted chicken. Hey, this is a man who loved food all his life. Can't he have some dignity? It made me feel bad. It was as though we were off-stage, not in the middle of a real-life drama, and she was interpreting things for me, the audience, from stage left. He's like a baby, she said. But I feel bad even typing this, because I know that Dad's well-being is in the nurses' hands much of the time, and this may somehow jinx him.

Let me sleep on it.

The beautiful image above is from Everett Potter's Travel Report website. Here's the link: http://www.everettpotter.com/blog/2010/06/steve-jermanoks-active-travels-mt-katahdin-maine.html.

Puttin' on the Ritz

Sexy packaging sells. 

Nope, by the Ritz title, I'm not talking about round crackers in a red box. I'm starting a new weekly blog post reporting on a luxury item or experience--as much to lift my spirits as yours. [Ideas welcome.] Today I spent more time than I would have liked crying again to Moey and Sis over my Dad, and even talking long-distance a bit to H., Figgy and others about it. He is eating very little and getting very frail. But, but--in the midst of all that, I found a dollop of luxury.

Oribe Signature Moisture Masque [Masque Hydratant Signature]

Price*: 5.9-ounce jar, $59 at http://www.neimanmarcus.com/store/catalog/prod.jhtml?itemId=prod99570081&parentId=cat23290734. So about $10 per ounce.

Looks: The sleek black jar is sexy and beautiful. Looks good on granite bathroom counter. Reminds you that you're taking care of yourself. Transports me back to my mother's Arpège and My Sin bottles, dark and mysterious on her mirrored perfume tray.

Package Copy: A super-rich indulgence--for you and your hair. This crème de la crème deep hydrating masque transforms even the driest, most over-it hair, leaving it supremely soft and irresistibly touchable. Thick hair may splurge daily; others will love as a weekly soak. Massage, indulge (for as long as you want), rinse. Paraben free. UV Protection for hair. This box sourced from well-managed forests.

Intriguing Ingredients+: Sunflower seed oil, macadamia seed oil, glycerin, sunflower seed extract, keratin, lychee extract, watermelon extract, edelweiss flower/extract, amber extract, rice protein, jojoba protein, wheat protein, castor oil. [Yes, that is edelweiss, as in the Sound of Music song.]

My Vote: Yes, if you can afford it, buy it. [But go to a site like Neiman Marcus, linked above, where at least right now, it's free shipping at any price.] I shampooed and rinsed, then combed this through and left in while I finished showering. Then, rinsed off and sealed with final cool rinse. Maybe part of it is in my head, but I think my hair looks softer, sexier and smells good. The curls took shape in a more alluring way. I think I can get at least 7 treatments from the jar. Next time I take a nice long bath, I'm puttin' on the Ritz--and the hair masque--before I step into the tub.

Here's what the elegant black jar evokes for me.

*Disclaimer: As a freelance writer, part of my job is calling in beauty samples to test--not only because I love to try luxe pampering products but also because I can write much more clearly and descriptively about a brand after I've seen its packaging, smelled and felt the potion, and tried it. I don't want to lie and tell readers to try something before I have. I requested a sample of this masque for an article about post-summer beauty treatments.
+Very long list of complicated names. You need a magnifying glass. These are the ingredients that a.) I recognize and b.) sound appealing.

Little Green Diary: Vacation

Check out this hip Wrangler ad. But where are the dog's jeans?

AUGUST 10, 1973 [age 12]: I got green & red brushed denim pants, a red marker, hair things, p.j.s for [for summer]. I went in I.'s pool. Mom got her hair done & got clothes & shoes too!

AUGUST 10, 1974 [age 13]: I wish [really a lot] that we could go on vacation this yr. Uncle Jack came over [to visit Granny, & had dinner at my house]. 


Jeez, maybe I have things out of focus. 

Figgy has way too many clothes--she loves shopping at Forever 21 and H&M if she gets birthday or babysitting money. [Moey has even very thoughtfully gifted her with a mini shopping spree at the former.] But I always say to my friends, I never had a lot of clothes, and the clothes I did have, I took good care of--i.e., they were not rolled in a ball and tossed on the floor. When will she ever learn? You do not want to see the size of the two giant sacks of clothing she took for two weeks in Maine and Cape Cod, and the trove of lotions and potions, too. Guess that's what happens when you're an only child, your family drives rather than flies [lots of trunk space], and your mother is also an overpacker.

Yet possibly, I've twisted the clothing truth, looked at it through a foggy lens. When I read my diary, I find lots of fashion purchases. Well, as I learned when working at Seventeen Magazine, teen girls are big beauty and style spenders. But me? I could have sworn I was deprived. Apparently not. I was even excited to report when my Mom got clothes, b/c you know how it is, you want your Mom to look good, too.

And if you asked me now, I'd say our family went on vacation every year--either to Beach Haven [on Long Beach Island] or Cape Cod. According to my diary, it looks like we must have skipped at least one year. 


BTW, can someone please tell me what green & red brushed denim pants were? This was summer, not Christmastime! Wish you were here.

Connections

Glad I could Go & Grab just before the clock struck midnight. 

I've decided I will no longer take connections for granted, no longer take them in stride. When things connect, I am grateful. Making one connection enables us to make the next one. Top 10 connections I'm thankful for today:

1. H. and the tire. I had to rush to the city, H. was bustling around getting everything ready for his and Figgy's 450-mile drive to Maine. I connected with him to remind him about the nail in the right front tire that caused the tire to go quite flat last week. He was able to connect with the guy at the gas station, just by stopping by, so the nail could be removed and tire patched. Connection made.
2. Bus to NYC. As at my house in Montclair, I now know precisely how much wiggle room I have before I need to bolt out the door from this condo in Clifton and make haste to the corner. When to apply the lip gloss at leisure [rarely], when to toss it in the tote bag. But as I'm hurrying, I think to myself, If I don't miss this bus, I'm going to be very lucky, and very grateful that things worked out in my favor. When I sit in that seat, I'm going to breathe a sigh of gratitude and relief. Because if I miss this bus, the next one could be a whole hour later. That will throw my entire day off and cause me great stress. I will miss my appointment.
3. The waiting cab. Okay, its A.C. could have been better [I am a polar bear] but it got me from the Port Authority to 85th and Madison [another appt. at the doctor's] in exactly 14 minutes, so even though my bus had been caught in traffic, I was only four minutes late. And though I would have liked to walk the whole way, which would have been free and fit, I sat back and enjoyed the view, especially along Central Park West near the Museum of Natural History and the Teddy Roosevelt statue. I enjoyed the connection I made.
4. Reaching the hospital care manager. I'd missed two connections--one when she called me mid-appointment--but was able to catch her before she left for the day, so we could get the conversation going re. where Dad will go next. Person-to-person and family connections mean everything.
5. Connecting with nature. Oh, Central Park. I love it. I walked back from the Upper East Side to Columbus Circle, then to the Port. Soaked up views of the Lake and boathouse, Bethesda Fountain with its pretty lily pads, the grassy fields, the lovely trees, the big ancient rocks and sloping hills, the happy dogs being walked by their owners. 
6. Clicking with my new favorite cup of coffee. Why would I ever go to Starbucks again? I happened upon The Cafe at the Plaza Hotel, when I decided to check out the hotel's retail shop level [enter on 58th Street] purely for window shopping. It was only $2.72 for a delicious iced coffee. I was afraid it might be $7. And it felt so great to sit and sip it in a high-backed, light blue velvet chair. So elegant. Want to go with Sis and Figgy [the afternoon tea we three used to go to at the Plaza every Christmas season with Edie is now $45 to $55 per person].
7. Getting help in the nick of time. John is the very nice concierge here at AVE Clifton. There are several, but he is stellar. I couldn't get my work file to open up on the Dells in the business center or the Macs in the fancy lobby or Figgy's Mac in the condo tonight....but I asked John before his shift ended at 11 P.M., and he was able to open it on the front desk computer. He even stayed till 11:06 doing it for me. 
8. Inching the Mernins' minivan out of the parking spot. Anne and Michael have generously lent us their third car. Tonight I had to get it out from a spot next to a giant silver pickup truck that had wedged itself practically on top of it. This time, I was grateful, very grateful, to not make a connection, to not brush that shiny, expensive car with the Mernins' van. It took a lot of shimmying in and backing out, in baby steps, but I did it.
9. Racing my cart into Stop & Shop before it closed at midnight. True, the lights were out in the dairy aisle when I was grabbing cottage cheese and skim milk, but I raced to the cashier and made it. We didn't have a single morsel of dry food left for Sug, so I really had to get some before the store closed. Mission accomplished. 
10. Mad Men! Sacrificed my Sunday night viewing to go see the movie Eclipse with Figgy and friend last night at 10:20 and am so glad I did. But we don't have On Demand at the condo, so wasn't sure when I would catch the episode. Clicked on TV at 12:40 A.M. and there it was. Connection of my bottom to condo couch made, remote in hand, smile on face.

My Maine

The movie theater in Belfast that Mike and Therese own.

Since I was about 26, I've gone to Maine every single summer for a week or more with H. and later, with H. and Figgy, and then even H., Figgy and Punch. We also drive up for alternate Thanksgivings and Christmases.

H.'s big family lives there--his four smart, witty, talented older brothers, John, Michael, Dave and Pat, his mom, Mary, and his little sister, Eileen, with her husband, Mike, and three cute kids, who are Figgy's age and younger. When I started going 23 years ago, my oldest niece, Leah, was 7--she just turned 30. She and my nieces Mariah and Anna will always remain enchanting young girls in one corner of my heart. I wasn't a mother yet when I met them, and I loved polishing their nails, admiring their dresses, admiring them. They were the flower girls in our wedding. Dave and Sheila's sons, Chris, Matt and Will, also had a boyhood very much worth remembering....climbing and running all over tree-covered islands in the sea, young Will hiking up Blueberry Hill with us.

Change
I'm not going this summer, and I know I'm going to miss Maine's rugged coast, small-town charm and white church steeples, not to mention my big family. H. and Figgy are leaving tomorrow morning for a week, but I have a lot of work deadlines converging, and mainly, do not want to leave my Dad, who is still in the hospital and not doing well. They're driving straight from Maine to Cape Cod for what is our designated week in August this year, between the renters and Will and Kelly--and that would mean we'd be away for two solid weeks.

Nope, can't leave Dad that long. Already felt bad today when I couldn't see him. But am hopeful that I can do the Cape Cod leg of the trip :)

Gift List
In an effort to brace myself, here's my loss list, What I Love about Maine:

• Iced coffee at the Belfast Co-op; yum. Also, the BLT. And the beeswax candles, which I like to bring home and then burn in NJ, to soften the blow of leaving such a beautiful state behind.
• The freshly mowed field behind the Comfort Inn in Belfast, where Sug loves to run wild, the joy of freedom--finally freedom--on her small happy face. And the rocky beach below the field, where I've sat and pondered life many a time.
• Going to the movies in Belfast--brother-in-law Mike and wife Therese own the old Colonial Movie Theatre, which they restored and revamped to perfection. Link: www.colonialtheatre.com. They even serve coffee--how smart is that?
• Staying at John and Leah's big house, right up the hill from the bay, sharing home-cooked meals at their farmhouse table, walking Sug in the neighborhood, reading and relaxing.
• Walking to church from John's house, past vivid gardens. John also has a cherry tree [he's made pie with the fruit], a white picket fence and rhubarb growing.
• Hiking with John, H., Figgy and Sug, as the ragged white one scrambles up over the rocks like she was born to scale mountains, not sit on laps with hot-pink bows in her hair.
• Going to Mt. Battie, with its sweeping view of the beautiful seaside village of Camden. H. and I once hiked with Figgy at Mt. Battie [we also camped nearby] and since she was littler and closer to the ground, she found some wild blueberries that we sampled. :)
• Lighthouses. All of them.
• Chase's in Belfast, a great place for breakfast--and to buy local farm produce, flowering plants and dark chocolate cookies studded with melty chocolate chunks and dried cherries. I've hunted far and wide for a recipe to make those, and did find a cookbook that has a good version.
• The way Dave makes me crack up with his jokes and observations. All four brothers are quite amazing. John is a gifted house painter, yogi and reader; Michael is an entrepeneur who also runs Zippy's hotdog stand in the summer in Houlton, ME [and for years, he was mayor of Belfast!]; Dave is a talented artist and teacher; Pat, the carpenter, has built beautiful houses and likes his motorcyle trips. They're all smart, they're all witty [some drier than others] and they all love nature. I love that about them.
• My mother-in-law, some of the laughs we share, seeing her pretty freckles, and enjoying her delicious cooking and world-class homemade salad dressing.
• My sisters-in-law Eileen, Therese and Sheila [though Sheila, a chef, has been gone most summers lately, being in charge of food at a camp in Maine].
• Going to Young's Lobster Pound for dinner with everyone. Mary usually brings a salad for everyone to share, and that signature dressing.
• Hanging around with Eileen and Mike and their kids and their great big black Lab, Sasha, at their camp on Pushaw Lake. Going out on the boat, pulling the kids on tubes behind us. Hearing the loud bullfrogs in the tidy little cabin when we go to sleep at night.
• Bar Harbor!!!!!! One of the most gorgeous spots on earth......hiking in Acadia National Park, taking that simple walk along the water's edge in town, going to Ben & Bill's Chocolate Emporium for maybe a little piece of rocky road fudge to share with my nephew, Taylor, and to marvel for the umpteenth time over the fact that they have lobster ice cream there.

These summer gifts will still be there, I trust, when I can get back next year this time. And maybe I can even tuck in a visit in the fall? Autumn there is a gift from God.

What I realize when I review this list after a night's sleep is that visiting H.'s family in their beautiful state has been a constant in my life--I've been there as H.'s girlfriend, as his fiancee, a newlywed, expecting, as a mom......even with Punch a couple of times.....our Figgy has grown up loving Maine. And H. adores his family....he says he feels nourished after seeing them all.

Northern Star
Still, someone else has been a constant in my life for even longer, and he's lying by himself in a hospital bed. We will be figuring out where he goes this week when he's discharged. Looks like the very pretty Sunrise assisted living apartment Sis and Will moved his belongings into three weeks ago will not be an option now, because he's so much weaker and needs more care. But when he isn't sleeping, is he scared, worried, lonely, uncomfortable, in pain? I want to be there. Just be there. I hope my presence for a couple/few hours a day can somehow soothe.

It makes me happy that H. and Figgy are stopping at the hospital on their way to Maine today, too. My Dad still has crystal-clear memories of the few days he spent with my Mom in Bar Harbor on their honeymoon road trip. He's told me all about that.