Category: Good

Sweet Sorrow

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Over 15 years ago I was roaming the streets of New York City, oblivious to the fact that at home a life was slowing slipping away. Unable to communicate the seconds of precious life ticked by while I took in Cats and the Russian Tea Room. I got there in time but I never forgave myself for not getting there sooner. I just never thought it would happen again. Dancing around New York City while death danced too close at home. Too much to understand.
You will never know how guilty I feel for not being there. I should have held your hand. I should have seen you through the pain. I know you will tell me it was bad timing, that it just happened that way, but when you choked back the words I knew I should have been there. You tried to tell me you were okay. Even if you were, I wasn’t. Forgive me for taking a little time to get over the irony – for the exact moment I closed my eyes in exhausted slumber, he closed his eyes for good. Forgive me for feeling far away and failed.
I’m here now.

Just a Song

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wonder.jpg

Sometime ago I said that life was too busy for supporting & following & being obsessed by music. I think what I meant was these days I am being far more selective about the music I hear and how far I’ll go to stand before it. Recently, I went on a Natalie binge. Call me crazy, but four years is too long to go without hearing that voice live. Unlike myself I wanted a night upclose and a night far away. Unlike myself I made no attempt to remember the setlist. Unlike myself I made no attempt to get the perfect picture & in fact, refuse to post the ones that actually came out decent. I’ll leave that for some other adoring fan to do. Here is a list of the songs I heard. They are not all from the same night, nor are they in the “correct” order. The time listening to Natalie was too precious to worry about perfection.

  • Carnival~ this is the only one I will fess up to putting in the correct order. Every single time she came out on stage this was the song she performed first. It makes sense. This is her ode to New York; a nod to the city she adores. I have to say I was spellbound when she first appeared. It really had been too long. “Wide eyed misfit prophet, on a traffic island, stopped. And he raged of saving me.”
  • Build a Levee ~ This is a personal fave of mine. “You’ll fall under an evil spell just looking at his beautiful face.”
  • I’m not Gonna Beg ~ Where’s the boa? “I know ‘once upon a time’ and ‘ever after’ is a lie.”
  • At the Fair ~ Introduced as Robert Frost this is a Bonnie Raitt cover…” I swear another night is fallin'”
  • Sonnet #73~ Natalie was asked by the Royal Shakespeare Company to collaborate with Gavin Bryans for his Nothing Like the Sun project & put a sonnet to music. She chose #73 and said a few words about the Black Death and how many people died…typical Nat. “When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang.”
  • The Equestrienne ~ A story about a circus by Rachel Field. Natalie created a song out of part of the story involving a white horse. “See the girl in pink on a milk white horse.”
  • Janitor’s Boy ~ A song written by Nathalia Crane when she was 10 years old. Natalie put it to music & sang it in a 1920’s vaudville sort of way, very fun and flirty. “He’ll carry me off I know that he will, for his hair is exceedingly red: and the only thing that occurs to me is to dutifully shivers in bed.”
  • If No One Marries Me by Laurence Alma-Tadema~ “And when I’m getting really old, at twenty-eight or nine I’ll buy a little orphan girl and bring her up as mine.”
  • The Man in the Wilderness from Mother Goose~ a strange little poem about a man in the wilderness and asking about strawberries in the sea…
  • Texas ~ a new song of Natalie’s that seemed a warning about having it all. “I don;t mind if I have to kill a little honey bee.”
  • Life is Sweet ~ I have to admit I cried during this song. I think Natalie avoided singing it one night just because someone requested it. The jury is still out on that one…”It’s high time you make up your own sweet little mind.”
  • Wonder ~ the anthem is still strong. The best part was Natalie’s special guest, “How I confound you and astound you.”
  • Golden Boy ~ and to think we have so many more Golden Boys to talk about since Columbine. “Meteor rise from obscurity and all it took was a killing spree.”
  • Go Down Moses ~ this is probably my favorite song. It’s haunting and hurting as only a song about Katrina moving through New Orleans could be. “But it so hard without you…cold shocked and speechless can anyone reach us?”
  • Giving Up ~ another new Natalie song…
  • The End ~ If anyone remembers Natalie’s 2004 tour they will remember the peace banner Natalie held up during Gulf of Araby. It was back for The End. “When we give up the barrel and the blade…”
  • Tell Yourself ~ Natalie tested us with this one. She said “I wrote this for my 13 year old niece…any guesses?” “You’ll never be like the anorexic beauties in the magazines.”
  • Village Green Preservation Society~ Who would have thought The Kinks would show up in a Natalie show.? Erik & Gabe helped Nat make this hysterical.
  • Break Your Heart ~ while I miss the horn section on this song the cello was a good replacement. “See the push and shove for their rewards”
  • From the Time You Say Goodbye~ what a lovely surprise. I never thought I would get to hear this love. “Keep a prayer within your heart that the time will surely fly”
  • Tension ~ although this was just a snippet it was awesome to hear Natalie’s very first song. “A thought mistaken for a memory”
  • Kind & Generous~ The time to give Natalie gifts… “My love and respect for you”
  • Letter ~ I know I have never heard this live before. “but the truth it would reveal knowing you brought me pleasure…”
  • Motherland ~“Where in hell can you go?”

I will never be able to really write about this experience. It was a pleasure. Special thanks to Germany, Scotland and to the great city of New York.

Don’t Ask Me

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Have you ever had an experience so profound you can’t really open your mouth to share it with anyone else? You want to selfishly hoard the time as your own and talk around the moment that really moved you, speaking of smaller, less important parts of time. All the while there is this avoidance, this slight tremor of anxiety that someone else experienced your moment and will want to share it back to you, to vocalize it, trivialize it, and in the end, ultimately destroy it? With the damage done and the moment passed there is nothing left to do but turn the whole thing away.
I have yet to really talk about 363 W 16th Street and the things I saw and heard there. I’m holding them close, holding them sacred, as to not lose the importance of the profound experience. Don’t ask me. Yet.

Sky Reaching

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Sometimes, sometimes all it takes is a different perspective to right a wrong, heal a hurt, or just plain move on from something. I spent a lot of time looking up this weekend, both literally and figuratively. I found the cure for complacency is insecurity. I found that the push and pull of heart strings can be both painful and pleasing. I cried a little this weekend, but definitely laughed more. Friends who were a little too big for me are starting to fit better, closer. Perspectives do change when you get closer and I like what I see.
I went into a sea of nobody I knew and somehow felt better about the face in the mirror when I got home. I still don’t understand black sunglasses in the dark, wearing the sound of disgust on your feet, or gypsy cabbies. What I do know is that I was glad to share that world, for a little while. A little while is all I needed. We came confused about Chipotle and left with wrong trains and missing Starbucks. The city didn’t change us, yet somehow, in some way, I’m different. Looking up has a different look to it.
So, to you and you. I will see you later. And we’ll look up some more.

Cookbook Trouble

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For Christmas I got this book…or cookbook…or whatever. It’s both and actually perfect for me. Cooking and books. Books and cooking. That combination is just as perfect as running and yoga, knitting and meditation, pickles and peanut butter. Never mind. So, where’s the trouble you might ask? Here’s the deal: I’ve decided to read every book mentioned in The Book Lover’s Cookbook in addition to Book Lust and More Book Lust. Am I crazy? Quite possibly. Luckily, quite a few of them are on my list already thanks to Pearl’s list(s). I’ve also decided to try to cook every recipe in the book as well. I think I’ve lost it.

A morning this week, despite wanting craving heuvos rancheros I actually made “Behold! Ichabod’s Slapjacks” (Wenger, Shaundra Kennedy and Janet Kay Jenson. The Book Lover’s Cookbook. New York: Ballantine, 2003.) while reading the excerpt from Washington Irving’s Legend of Sleepy Hollow. The “slapjacks” came out sweet and cake-like thanks to sifting and sugar. I instantly regretted pouring maple syrup on them. They would have been perfect with just a light dusting of powdered sugar, a small smear of jelly, or even nothing at all. In fact, their sweetness and lightness would have made a great pairing with something salty and crunchy like turkey bacon or thinly sliced grilled ham. I’m even thinking these slapjacks could be sandwich material… I made a note in the margin, reminding myself to try that next time. A twist on a monte cristo maybe?

Stew Luxury

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Not many people like change. Very few people actually want to live outside of their comfort zone…at least not on a regular basis. Tonight’s dinner was all about reaching beyond the comfortable; moving beyond the typical. I don’t know what made me do it, but I wanted to make stew for dinner. I don’t make many soups or stews of any kind and I’m not exactly best friends with red meat. Like I said – way out of my comfort zone with this recipe. In addition, I did not want to make just any stew, but chunky, healthy, yummy beef stew since I haven’t been feeling well. No pressure! Thanks to the food network I made something I could dress up or down (read- make expensive or cheaper). Here is the luxury version and in parenthesis, the cheaper version. I went for a combination of the two. Kisa had seconds despite the fact he is a self-proclaimed squash hater.
Stew for You

  • olive oil
  • fresh, fragrant rosemary (dried)
  • flour
  • Spanish onion
  • fresh thyme (dried)
  • marsala wine
  • garlic, minced fine
  • butternut squash
  • sundried tomatoes, chopped (diced tomatoes)
  • beef broth (water)
  • stew beef cut into 2″ cubes, dredged in s&p and flour (cut into 1″ cubes)
  • portabella mushrooms, chopped (white button mushrooms)
  • parsley – fresh, chopped (fresh no matter what)
  • garlic bread

Butternut squash was an interesting twist, but you could go for standard-stew-inclusions like potatoes. I would like to try sweet potatoes in addition, or a combination of everything. I added the mushrooms even though they weren’t called for in the recipe. One other note – I would omit the salt in the beef dredge because the beef broth is salty enough (even if you use low sodium, which I prefer). Sop up the extra stew juice with the crusty garlic bread and enjoy a winter’s feast!

Wish You Were Here

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diner.jpg

If I could sit beside you in a worn down diner, I would. We would sit at the cracked counter, balancing on wobbly, spinning stools and peer at the menu, already knowing what we want. Nowhere to put our coats and hats, we’d drape them over our knees. Before the day is over I would lose a glove, dropped to the snow-melted wet floor, trampled on before it’s even missing and missed. But, before then we would order plates of runny eggs and almost burnt toast. We’d let steaming cups of coffee sit untouched at our elbows, too hot to sip. Conversation would be silent because enjoying each others unusual company would be all we need. You would eavesdrop on the couple behind us, nodding knowingly; wise to their hushed argument about buying a bigger truck. The exclamation, an outburst of sorts, “but, it’s New England!” would make you smile small. The corners of your mouth would barely move, but the barely contained laughter would still show in your eyes. You want to say something, but would busy yourself with fixing my coffee the way I like it instead. You would even stop to test its temperature, your tongue knowing exactly how I can take it. “It’s cool enough” you would indicate with a small nod, pushing the cup towards me, eyes still laughing. Thank you, I would acknowledge you are right. Again. 
Getting up to pay the bill. That’s when I’d lose the glove. I wouldn’t notice it slide off my lap, bounce off the stool leg and land soundly in the cold puddle of slush created by my too-big black boots. Instead I would trudge my way to the cashier, my coat bunched under an arm. You hand over the check and wait for change. “Ready?” you would ask with your smiling eyes. Yes. And out of the diner we would go. If I could, I would.

January Is…

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Here are the parameters for this month’s reading and what is at the top of the list. January is… 

  • Walter Mosley’s birth month (Always Outnumbered, Always Outgunned)
  • Nevil Shute’s birth month (Beyond the Black Stump)
  • Benjamin Franklin’s birth month (The Americanization of Benjamin Franklin)
  • National Yoga Month (Everday Zen)
  • The month Michigan became a state (The Dollmaker)

Of course, I’ve been reading something else lately….But, now that January is here, Happy New Year & Happy Reading!

December Was

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I was looking back on the books I supposed to read from the December list and suddenly I found myself lamenting about how I’ll have to wait a whole year to get to the ones I didn’t even start. I decided to recap the month and after I made a list of what I did read I felt much, much better. I can honestly say all in all I am happy about what was and what wasn’t.
Here’s what I said I would read and what actually happened:

  1. Bill Bryson’s African Diary by Bill Bryson – done.
  2. Bellweather by Connie Willis – I read Miracle and Other Christmas Stories  instead. I don’t know…it just seemed more appropriate for December.
  3. Fer-De-Lance by Rex Stout – done.
  4. Basque History of the World by Mark Kurlansky – I never to this one because the library system was slow in loaning it.
  5. Body is Water by Julie Schumacher– Done.
  6. 24 Hours by Greg Iles – Done.
  7. Last Supper by Charles McCarry- I simply ran out of December and never got to it.
  8. Age of Grief by Jane Smiley – Done. 
  9. Father Christmas Letters by J.R.R. Tolkien – Done.

And the Christmas books not included in the list that I got to read were:

  • Polar Express by Chris Allsburg, and
  • Little Porcupine’s Christmas by Joseph Slate, and
  • Hilary Knight’s 12 Days of Christmas by Hilary Knight.

As an extra bonus I received a RandomHouseRead, Have You Found Her, and was able to squeeze that into the list during the last week of December.

Chourico Content

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For three months now I haven’t wanted to cook. I have come home feeling exhausted, worn down and depressed. Kisa asks a one-word question “pizza?” and my only response is another question “order out or make in?” I’m not feeling guilty about the laziness. We got a pizza stone and peel for our wedding and I truly enjoy making fresh pizza at home. But, but, but. It’s not what I consider cooking. I’m not really making anything when I lay down a crust with sauce and cheese.
Tonight, all that ended. I shook off the blues and I’m back in the kitchen. My first recipe to ring out the old year is chourico/turkey sub sandwiches in honor of the Saturday night Patriots game.
Ingredients:

  • chourico, red and spicy, stripped of casing and chopped small
  • ground turkey
  • sweet vidalia, chopped tiny
  • zesty tomato sauce
  • ruby red tomatoes, diced
  • crunchy, bright jalapenos (I cheated with jarred because I prefer my friend, Mrs ‘Fro), chopped smaller than small
  • dried oregano
  • sugar
  • black pepper (fresh cracked, of course)
  • tapioca
  • big black olives, sliced
  • monterey jack cheese, shredded
  • fresh, fresh, fresh rolls, guts taken out
  • crunchy tortilla chips (I like red hot blues)

I prefer to cook the turkey and chourico in batches, alternating between the two. End with a batch of turkey so it can soak up the crusty bits of chourico left behind. This method also gives the otherwise grayish turkey a deeper color. The whole thing stews for 6-12 hours so the flavors can have a lasting relationship and not just a one night stand. Serve with plenty of napkins and water for the wimps.

Looking Up

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I’ve been achy and almost silent for three days now. Sore throat and sniffly. I hate being sick. I missed out on getting my car fixed, a dental appointment and those crazy after Christmas sales. My cell phone is dead and I’ve only answered my sister via email. A sorta self-induced vow of silence. I have no voice to speak of (although I would make a great obscene caller).
But, things are looking up. January is the month for music. Natalie. Natalie. Natalie. Natalie. sirsy. Greg. Here Comes the Bride. In that order. I’m nervous about Natalie. I’ve never had a good time at general admission shows. I’m short and shy which means I won’t see much. But, it will be good to hear my favorite voice again. And again. And again. And again.
Looking up indeed.

This Is Me

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This is me saying goodbye to 2007. The dog and I have decided we are ready to wake up to a new year. Wake me when it’s over, won’t you? While this year wasn’t particularly terrible, it ended with an I-hate-fall moment and I am so ready to move away from that mindset.
Here’s the deal: I normally have scoffed at anyone making a new year’s resolution. I mean, why bother. You are full of crap and you know it. As a rule I don’t make them because in my mind, MY new year is my birthday, the day I turn another year older. A new year just begun. I end up making the same resolutions everyone else made a month earlier (because I’m full of crap, too). I end up not sticking to the resolutions just like everyone else. I’m not different, definitely no better. It’s pretty pathetic, actually. This year I’m not a scoffer. I’m a maker. I made a list of resolutions and for once, I’m not going to announce my good intentions to the entire world. I’ve done enough “this is IT!” ranting as it is.
This is all I will say. I am changing some things. See if you can tell what they are. Take a good look at this me because this time next year I won’t be.

Have You Found Her

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Erlbaum, Janice. Have You Found Her, A Memoir. New York: Villard Books, 2008.

I often say “I couldn’t put it down” to describe a page turner; a really good book. I just finished Janice Erlbaum’s Have You Found Her and I have to say first, it only took me six hours to read. Only six hours because not only was it a real page turner, but it was a too-good-to-stop page turner. It was a roller coaster of a read. Emotional and unpredictable. I felt every one of Janice’s highs and lows like they were happening to me.
To sum up the plot is to sell it short. To say it is the story of a woman’s journey through a relationship with a troubled homeless teen is to leave out the heartaches, the loves and hates, the hardness of being homeless, the despair of addictions. In addition to asking “what next?” from chapter to chapter the reader is also left asking “how is this possible?” Janice’s experiences are so fantastic and her feelings vibrate so strongly that every page is a live wire of tension. This is not your typical “soul searching” memoir for the author, her subject…or the reader.
I only found one discrepancy with the detail. Janice finds out her homeless friend has been discharged from a hospital back into the care of the shelter where Janice is a volunteer. Because if “rules” Janice must wait two days until her schedule volunteer day (Wednesday) before she can seek out the girl. Yet, when Janice arrives at the shelter she says she knows Sam was discharged on Wednesday when in fact, according to detail, it would have been a Monday (page 73). This is a small oversight in an otherwise fascinating and haunting story.

Seasick

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I want to say see you next year. I want to say maybe next time. I want to make promises I know I can’t keep. Life isn’t fair and Mother Nature is a cruel mistress. Next year my better half gets the call. I know what he will say. I know what he deserves to say. We aren’t going anywhere. It’s our turn to stay put. His family derves a merry christmas delivered on the right day, too.
I cannot make promises I shouldn’t keep. I cannot be unfair to my partner for life.
But, but, but. Know this – I was ready for you. I was ready to come back to you. For this first time in 15 years I was prepared to face all the haunts and hells of yesteryear. Just because it isn’t happening this year doesn’t mean I won’t be ready some other time. I will face you and I will win. Seasick or not, I will succeed.

working it not

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What do you do when the heart goes one way and the mind wanders another? When is right really right and wrong isn’t totally out of the question? One eye on the weather, one heart waiting for disappointment to crest so it can begin to ebb away. Subside. Anticipated sorry is worse than anything I could bring on myself.
The tide of bad timing is fast approaching. Try as I may I want to dodge it, duck under it, let it crash over my head and then let it move on without me. To say we have been planning this all year would be a lie. No plan, just the remembrance of a promise. We said we would be there. We assumed we would. We wanted to. Seriously. The promises broken would break my heart. When I say I want to go home it’s not for the sake of space. It’s not about the place. It’s never been about the place.