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!