At the Top of the Wheel

I have always imagined the new year like a Ferris wheel, and the new year is at the top. We have completed another 365 day cycle and here we sit, swinging, waiting to see what the new year brings. I for one am excited. I know the new year will bring surprises, both desired and undesired, new friends, new opportunities and new lessons. What I am hoping the new year brings is a neck that doesn't crepe, a knee that doesn't creek and ache and a back that can lift, schlep and slump without pain. I am a realist though, and know that what I can look forward to for certain are dozens of fabulous meals, good wine, good friends and journeys to new and favorite places.

Dang! I'm Tired

Whew. It is amazing how much stuff we can accomplish in a mere day. I am beat. Done. Cooked like a chicken. I'll be back tommorrow with the blog.....but right now I have to finish some things up here, go to spinning, wrap more presents, cook dinner and pass out.

Letter to Young Dinner Party Guests

You were invited to join us for dinner because you are smart, young, funny and bring a new perspective to our lives. We are grateful to know you and for the chance to see the world through your eyes. Likewise, I hope you are open to learning some things from the grown ups at the party. For example, letting the cook know you are in fact coming to dinner an hour before dinner is like not responding at all. The shopping is done, the cooking is underway and the table is set. The intent of the RSVP is to allow the hosts to have enough food and a table setting for you and your guests. Texting during dinner is beyond rude. Is our conversation that boring and prosaic that you can't be present? We want to be included in your conversation and share in the jokes (even when they are about us). I know your generation communicates differently- I know you prefer texting to writing real letters and that verbalizing your feelings, expectations and intent is really hard. We are willing to be patient and encourage you to be gracious, attentive, and articulate. You have to see the value in those qualities and want to possess them. If you are unwilling, you might want to stick to texting at Starbucks with your friends and save dinner parties for adults.

BYOHS: Bring Your Own House Shoes

It's one thing if you get to a party and get loose and take your shoes off. But not to be able to make an entrance in your party shoes that match your dress and your handbag, is deflating. Case in point- last night I am Elaine's date at a business holiday party. I threw on a dress, agonized over which shoes worked best with that dress and jazzed it up with some fishnets! We get to the party, and on the front door was a BIG sign: "please remove shoes." Sure enough, there on the porch were all types of dress shoes in a pile: mules, velvet holiday shoes with charms, loafers, Oxfords, pumps, ankle boots and wing tips. I get it that we walk in and on all sorts of disgusting stuff that you shouldn't want in your house and that is cleaner, safer and smarter to leave the disease and goo outside. However, had I known that this was a barefoot party, I would have brought slippers or I would have gotten a pedicure. There I was in my fishnets, with my un-manicured toes in my party dress looking like Daisy Duke at prom. What I know is that people are funny about their feet. Some people never go barefooted. They get home, slide out of shoes and into slippers or socks. So to ask people in suits and dresses to go barefoot on a cold tile floor and not offer socks, slippers or a warm foot bath is a little, well, wrong.

Blazing Saddles!

There I was, in a darkened room with nine other adults, on stationery bikes. Our instructor was a svelte, muscular, tidy little brunette. It was clear her metabolism was amped up; I could watch the fat she didn't eat get burned as she zipped around the room, pony tail swinging, adjusting bikes, encouraging new riders and going through her mental checklist. I bet she's a virgo! Actually, class was fun. I like spinning and I really like it when I leave behind a pool of sweat on the floor beneath my bike. I paid to leave body fluids behind at a spa not too long ago so this was a bonus. Unlike my ambitious past where I was spinning three and four times a week, I spin once a week and am happy with that. Those seats are not designed for middle aged behinds, but other than that, it is the perfect exercise for yours truly.

A Hug was Enough

Today I was at Wal-Mart shopping for several families who have at least one child enrolled in our after school programs. I ran into a friend who, in 21 years of living in St. Louis, I have never run into while out and about. We engaged in the usual small talk and when I asked how he was, tears filled his eyes and he said that he buried his son yesterday. He started to cry. I felt so very sad to be there, to look into his eyes and watch his heart break. I did not want to say any of the usual things that don't matter when you hurt, so I hugged him. Our relationship has never included hugs because it is a professional one. But when he shared that bit of himself with me, I took a risk and hugged him. He looked so vulnerable and hurt. He changed the subject and we chatted more about nothing. Whatever we said didn't matter because so much had been said in so few words. Eventually, the subject came back to his son. I never asked what happened or for any of the details. None of that mattered. What mattered was that he will never have his son home for Christmas again. He will never get to grouse again that his son drove the family car for the day and returned it on "E." It was a goodbye he wasn't prepared to say. I am glad I didn't say much. I will write him a letter in a week or so and express my care and sympathy and gratitude for the coincidence that I saw him at the Wal-Mart.

Beginnings and Endings

Three years ago, my good friend Scott, invited me to join him at the annual New York Gift Show. I felt like Bob Barker himself had called me to "come on down" to the Showcase Showdown! I was ebullient. My role was to assist and support Scott as he spent lots of money buying for his furniture, accessories and gift store in a little sea side town that stretches out along the Atlantic ocean. We started our long days with coffee and ended with champagne to celebrate an eight hour day of non-stop buying, looking and considering gorgeous things. The first year must have met his expectations, because I was invited back a second and third year. The gift show is like a five-acre adult fantasy land filled with crystal, candles, china, furniture, pottery, paper, glorious paper, sculpture, art work, embroidered linens, and things so marvelous and beautiful that it would fill me with glee just to be there. It is hard to keep the doors open of even the most unique, interesting and well-run treasure trove in the midst of a recession with gasoline approaching five dollars a gallon. Scott told me that he is closing his doors in 2009, and although I am more sad than you can imagine, I am so grateful for the chance to peer into Aladdin's den. Thank you Scooter for picking me to accompany you on your treasure hunting expedition. Just say the word and I would do it all over again!

Plans for my Fifth Decade

I have often thought about what would occupy my days and my heart in the second half of my life. Until today, I have not been certain. I drove down to Southern Missouri today to work on our upcoming summer program for children and as I drove past countless dead wild animals and injured or obliterated red shouldered or red tail hawk carcasses, I knew that when I win the lottery, I am going to open a wildlife and native plant sanctuary. I am so sad about all of the little guys trying to survive in a world where they have to negotiate high performance tires, construction zones and vanishing habitats. So when I win the lottery, don't ask me for a loan, the money is committed. But be sure and visit the Dora Keeton Wildlife sanctuary!

Letter to Santa

Dear Santa: Please update your GPS before you leave on December 24. I know you know the way, but there are a few stops you just can't miss on the way to my house. Please be sure and swing by that bridge just outside of Midway airport in Chicago. There is a guy that lives under there and I bet he could use a new sub zero sleeping bag and some nice gloves. Better throw in a bottle of the Silver Oak Cab too. Please be sure and hit the 'hood in St. Louis. I know lot's of kids there that don't have beds or pillows or desks. I bet lot's of folks would appreciate new pots and pans and some food. There are lot's of poor families that don't have much to share but would probably like some board games and pajamas for the children. I see lots of homeless dogs that need medical care and food not to mention a hug. Be sure and hit the ghettos Santa. Folks will be happy to see you.

I Eat Therefore I Am.......Fatter/Happier/Less Hungry

At my age the pleasures in life have gotten simpler. The big pleasure, the one I can engage in without injury to myself or others is eating. I use to find it amusing that my mother would travel to interesting places and the first comment about her travels upon her return would be the food. And she could tell you what she ate at each meal. Now I understand. How marvelous is it to eat with friends and to eat great food. I think about it everyday. I think about tomatoes when they are in season and homemade tapande on fresh sourdough bread. I think about cheese and olives and grilled halibut. I can taste grilled fennel with olive oil and a little good white wine. Here's to good food everyday.

Looking for a Bargain

I am looking for a deal. Not 50% off on a Garmin, but some gem, some little treasure for a crazy price. It is so much fun when I find a real bargain. It is just plain exciting. I was out snooping around in antique shops for single or at the most two porcelain coffee cups like the ones our grandmothers and mothers had. I found a little shop that accepts "antiques" on consignment and found some real gems for five bucks each. This year for Christmas I am antiquing, baking or making gifts. If you get a store bought gift it is because I ran out of time. So if you find a great deal call me.

Gravity is Depressing

When I get a glimpse of all my bits in the mirror, they seem lower, looser and strange to me. I am temped to stand upside down just to have things fall into their starting place. I don't mind aging I really don't. I just don't like how it looks. If it isn't crepeing, swaying or drooping, it belongs to someone else. There is no solution for this is there? I don't look bad in clothing, the fabric keeps it all in place. I often joke about botox or some sort of procedure, but I know that the effects of medical intervention are temporary. My solution is this: I will go to the gym. I can't change how my bits are now, but I can make sure they aren't larger than they need to be! An answer awaits me! All I have to do is sweat it off, work those arthritic knees and further annoy my back. Mark Twain was right. Youth is wasted on the young.

Thanksgiving without the Giving

This was a perfect holiday weekend. Perfect because I did nothing. Went nowhere (unless you count the three trips to Michael's Craft Store) , entertained no one and was content to eat leftovers and watch rented movies. Don't get me wrong. I love to entertain, cook and dazzle my guests with delicious treats and gay repartee. However the plan free weekend was a wonderful break. I did accomplish things: I mowed the entire yard and mulched all of the leaves that had fallen. I fed the birds, walked the dogs, brought in the last of the firewood, made Christmas presents (Hence the multiple trips to Michael's), worked on a puzzle and got some knitting done. I didn't miss my annual dressing anxiety, the cranberries sauce that no one eats or the huge mess. Maybe next year.

I Forgot What I Was Looking For

Is my memory really bad or am I just not paying attention? I think it is the latter. I remember all sorts of minutia that has no real benefit or purpose except to get invited to be on someones' trivia team. I may not remember the person I met a year ago, but I will never forget that yellow Perry Ellis raincoat I did not buy at Macy's over 20 years ago or that stunning navy hat with the polka dot sash at Henri Bendel. I remember birthdays of freinds I have not seen or talked to in decades, but couldn't tell you what I had for lunch yesterday. I can remember what the old Gypsy lady told Lon Chaney in the Werewolf movie, but I never remember to pack socks or underwear or belts. I am sure with age this trend will not improve, and I will be forced to carry dozens of little notebooks reminding me not to forget things. The trick will be to remember the notebook.

A Moment

When you are in the thick of your work, you don't often take the opportunity to stop the action and really appreciate the impact you make. Yesterday, I was at my largest afterschool program, Family PREP. It was the final day of the ten week long circus arts program for our kindergarten and first grade students. For that single 45 minute period, the children were not competing with each other for attention, time or food. They were attentive and enjoying themselves and their new skills: juggling, plate spinning, stilt walking, ring tossing and clowning. The staff were also free to appreciate the students and the moment. It was truly a beautiful moment. The emphasis is on the moment. In that moment I realized that the work we do with impoverished children matters, has an impact on them and the adults who guide them. The children are beautiful and I am so very grateful for the opportunity to show them how big the world really is and that it is filled with people who want them to be successful.

The Most Wonderful Tme of the Year

Yes I know that technically Christmas is 30 days away, but for me the holiday has started. That is if you include thinking about who you will or won't send cards to, who you will buy gifts for and what fabulous, memorable, one of a kind token you can get for $9.99 or less. Not to mention the baking, the scorching, the wrapping and where in the heck is the double sided tape? The tree has to be purchased, secured, decorated AND go up by the 9th of December and so does my anxiety. The tree does create a fun diversion for the pets- Trudy likes to lay on the tree skirt and nibble the hand sewn bits and Oliver likes to attempt leaping from the floor to bat the $45.00 Christopher Radko ornament from its drying branch. Let's face it, Christmas is a lot of work. There is really nothing relaxing about it. Sure, I like the receiving part, and the giving part is nice too. But did I mention the returns? Ho, ho, ho.

And Other Duties as Assigned

There is a wonderful tradition in St. Louis called Old Newsboys Day. Before I was in the know, I thought all of those people standing on corners trading newspapers for money were former newspaper "boys." The real deal is that those corners are staffed by non-profit organization volunteers, staff and in some cases, the executive director. I got up at 5:30 a.m. this morning, bundled up in all of my outdoor gear and met Jackie, one of the team members here and we stood on a busy intersection and "sold" special edition papers. We collected $406.00 for the Old Newsboys organization. They then distribute the money collected to 249 (I counted) local charities. Picture this: it is freezing cold, and there you are, dodging cars, looking for rolled down car windows with a dollar bill being waved at you. Your challenge is to dart out there, grab the dollar, hand the driver a paper, thank them and do it all over again. It is a very humbling experience; an experience that allows people of all income levels to be a part of the giving community. Very satisfying indeed.

Today is a New Day

Adulthood is over-rated. Mostly by children but what do they know? I am a card carrying cynic. My inner child is being held hostage by the ugly realities of adulthood and I can't afford the ransom. My mood ring hasn't always been this dark. Really. I loved the niave bliss of childhood. My worries as a child were not complex. Strawberry, chocolate or chocolate. Barefoot or not. Cinderella or Snow White. The problems started when the choices got complex. Sandal foot or control top, whole milk or skim, decaf or regular. Some choices are easy. Some are not. We make dozens of choices everyday, most are done on "auto pilot" but the big ones can really alter our trajectory. I guess that is why there are rules. Some things you just do and you don't have to ponder the outcomes. Like wearing your seatbelt or using sunscreen.

Seasonal Pleasures

There isn't much about winter I look forward to. My skin becomes ashy and dry and just looks bad in general not to mention it's dark and cold and I can't be outside for long. There is a sliver lining to my big cloud though, and it comes in the form of (surprise!) food. The only time of the year I can get pomegrantes, Honey Crisp apples and Clementine tangerines is now. If you can't go outside, being stuck inside with your favorite treats is not all bad. It's also time for fruitcake, divinity and snickerdoodles, turkey, dressing and cranberry everything! I guess if I have to be wrapped up in fleece for months on end, if I have a chunk of fruitcake and a clementine I can get through anything.

Who Knew Candy Making was Hard?

Maybe, just maybe it was the humidity and not the cook that screwed up the pecan turtles! It was Elaine's turn to host bookclub and one of the duties of the hostess is to provide the desserts and coffee. Elaine had told me over a month ago that the ladies were converging on the house to discuss the November book selection: The Sea by John Banville. I am not in bookclub as my literary tastes are shared by adolescents and fans of fantasy. So, I thought a great deal about what dessert would dazzle the ladies. I thought about torts, tiramisu, chocolate mousse and pies, pies, pies. But what I settled on was a delicious pecan turtle. 5 fresh, flavorful pecans joined in a puddle of rich, milky caramel, topped with a dollop of milk chocolate. Of course I had never made pecan turtles, but never doubted my ability to succeed until my caramel never reached its required thickness or rich golden color. The recipe said it should boil for fifteen minutes and reach 243 degrees. Mine boiled for 40 minutes and although it did get gold-ish and a little thicker, it was not caramel! So, horrified and disappointed at 6:44 I jumped in the car, raced to Whole Foods and picked up a chocolate mousse cake. I woke up this morning, and there, on cookie sheets were 45 turtles, stuck in a pool of slightly tacky, but loose and not chewy stuff pretending to be caramel. I want another chance!