Backwards and forward

It's been a hard year and like difficult times not without sweet moments and glad tidings. My issues pale compared to many- we haven't had a highly contagious and lethal virus sweep our community nor has a weather anomaly threatened our well being.  Our offspring continue to grow and thrive and if our ability to get along could be better, we are hardly unique in that respect. As a recently elected official to the board of my small village I have witnessed behavior that would shock and mystify many- but supposedly among elected officials, this is nothing new. So not a year that will stand out for many positives. (Well, our middle child had a milestone year with graduating high school and heading off to college- but as most parents will attest- your children's accomplishments are theirs' and theirs' alone. Living through them is not recommended.)

So, I am thankful this year is drawing to a close. To my more experienced colleagues in the political game, you undoubtably have much thicker skin than mine- which might be a good thing. (The jury's out on that one.)

In the meantime, looking forward to a happier and hopefully less stressful new year. And wishing you and your's the best of everything and happiness in 2015.

Made of (leaded) Glass

Last fall my friend Sandra participated in the Tarrytown village wide tag sale- an event which typically takes place on a Saturday in late September and elicits a fair amount of anticipation from all those who love looking at other people's discards (hopefully attractively priced). My spouse was trying to raise money to meet his pledge obligation for an LLS Race for the Cure and so Sandra invited him to participate with her and sell some of our unneeded household items (and who doesn't have those?). 

Early morning, during the set up I noticed that Sandra had an assortment of Lalique crystal figurine items for sale- and the retailer in me knew this was not the right venue for these high priced objets d'art. I struck a deal with Sandra and I am happy to report that I just sold the last item on Ebay. Hopefully in the new homes they have found, they will be appreciated and enjoyed by their new owners. All's well that end's well as the great bard would say.

Forgettable

I was raised in a non-observant Jewish household. Holidays were important to the extent that they fostered momentum to gather together. We were 5 kids plus mom and dad and those opportunities meant something. You either made it there or made the call. But events mattered.

Flash forward a few decades and we are parents of young adults. Holidays are a lot tougher. There is no glue. Everyone occupies their own distinct sphere and barring some major crisis- we amble along our respective paths. It's not what I envisioned- but I married someone from a different faith, meaning different values from mine in a whole host of ways- and as his family all live thousands of miles away, getting together is logistically hard.

With two kids currently in college, money is ridiculously tight. Sometimes, pretending we are okay takes a lot of internal juggling- and while in principal, we are okay. Stressors abound.

Christmas rolls around- and the kids need those presents under the tree. Not a lot mind you. But some new clothes, a few treats. Hoping it will bring pleasure as anyone who buy gifts will attest. And at the end of our present exchange I realized that not a single one of my family members bought me a gift.
Or made me a card. Or did much of anything.

I withdrew. Getting angry seemed too distressing. It's not that I need anything- it's that I wasn't worth making an effort. And now I am sad and shook up. I don't want these feelings-stuck with a dark cloud that I know will eventually dispel.

I have a new hip. It will be a new year. Maybe things will change for the better. Or I'll change for the better (and hopefully not for the worse.) I will seek gratitude. I will try not to let the hurtful (in)actions of others upset me.

And all the lousy, shitty things that happen and blindside me- there's no up side in making crap memorable. Just remember, forgettable. (or at least try).

Back before 2

I had a follow-up appointment with my doctor this morning at NYU Langone. Almost 6 weeks since  my hip replacement surgery and I appreciated the chance to review my progress with him. Walking back to Grand Central I detoured to visit Lord & Taylor and drink in the fun of their holiday windows. Heading north I stopped in at the NY Public Library to check out their current photography show brimming with insights and treasures. The city never fails to deliver a chance to engage and I love the stimulation even a brief trip inspires.

(Holiday) News Alert from the Hollow

James found me in the kitchen to tell me that Santa Claus was picking up garbage so I ran outside with my camera to check it out for myself. Just a small news dispatch from Sleepy Hollow and one that I am happy to share.

My afternoon with Mia

I'm always happy to work with children whenever possible and I recently had the occasion to photograph my friend's Sara's daughter Mia at their home. She was a lot of fun in front of the camera and communicated wonderfully well. 

They recently came by to look at the images and Mia really enjoyed the animal members of our household, especially Comet. Watching her 3 year old self delight in the atmosphere of our home brought a flood of good feelings (and memories).

Thank You James

My husband did a great job this year of procuring, installing and decorating our tree and its presence and fragrance are welcomed additions. The holidays are unfolding and we are blessed to have our home and each other.

I Had To

I've been staying on the down low lately when it comes to shopping- trying to keep it simple. But with Sarah home from school we indulged in one of our favorite activities and visited a local church's thrift store. It's been a while since we wee there and I was immediately drawn to a voluminous holiday area that they carved out of a corner.  I poked around a bit and gathered up a few things and noticed a box sitting back on a shelf. When I picked it up and looked inside I knew this was some kind of special jewelry box- wrapped in wool plaid, lined and tied with suede.

The box had little bits of glitter on it as though a little more magic was added to it, right before it was bestowed. I saw people smiling when I held the box in my hands and knew it brought happiness once upon a time.  It's sticker price read .50 and I ended up paying half that. Now that I have it, I have no idea what I am going to do with it. I'm just glad it's here.

Yes to All

When you're required to stay home and lay low, the Sunday New York Times is a reliable distraction (all those sections and supplements) and a recent "T" magazine did not disappoint with its coverage of taste makers and wunderkinds combined with the usual assortment of ads promoting luxury goods. Sometimes, the heady atmosphere of all the high priced sophistication makes me feel a little nauseated by the unparallelled wealth and conspicuous consumption.

I found the above ad for Reed Krakoff especially annoying as the model appears to have either just stolen the tote (available for $2645 for pre-order) or fallen in love with it, sporting a "Why are you staring at me?" look in her eyes. I know I shouldn't be shocked- high end designer bags have become the symbol of prestige. Especially when combined with a beautiful girl loaded with attitude.

Not the Original (but worth trying)

Last month my friend Liza and I had the opportunity to attend a book launch for Dominique Ansel of Cronut™ fame. His pastry creations have an avid following and people line up outside his shop at 6 a.m. for the chance to purchase and consume his legendary treats. As part of the event, he was interviewed and I found him articulate and charming- always a good combination.

I am not inclined to make the pilgrimage to Soho to visit his bakery. That's a lot of effort to sample something novel and newsworthy so when Dunkin Donuts announced the latest arrival to its menu- the Croissant Donut, I was game to try. If your sweet tooth inspires you to consume offerings glazed with sugar- this could possibly hit the spot. I'm sure Dominque Ansel's Cronut™ is far superior in taste and the atmosphere of his establishment is undoubtably more appealing than our local Dunkin' yet I hope he is comforted by the fact that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Our Lighthouse gets Lit

Located in Sleepy Hollow, the Tarrytown Lighthouse (don't ask) has been missing its light for as long as I can remember. Our talented Village grant-writer Fiona Hodgson combined her talents with a local fund-raising effort and the monies were gathered to outfit our lighthouse with a new light source. There are few makers for the kind of fresnel light that is found in lighthouses and the Village was able to secure the skills of Dan Spinella who engineered a new light out of his workshop in Florida. Earlier this month, the day of the installation arrived and with much excitement the light was put in to place, wired in to the electric panel and turned on. A beloved landmark has been brought back to life and it's illumination brings hope for renewal and the positive things that can happen when people band together to create something of value for all to enjoy.

Capturing the Past

I recently spent a few days at The National Arts Club located on Gramercy Park in New York City.

My purpose there was to document the rooms and architectural details that are still in their original state from when the property was home to Samuel Tilden- the 25th Governor of  New York who ran for U.S. President in 1876. He won the popular vote but ultimately lost the election to Rutherford P. Hayes by one electoral vote. In 1906, when the Club outgrew its first location on 34th Street, Spencer Trask, a financier, philanthropist and NAC Governor, helped the Club acquire the Tilden Mansion as its new home.

Much of the property has been transformed over the years as the Club has expanded but there are architectural details and period rooms that have remained intact and offer a history lesson in craftsmanship and design. A very special location in a bucolic part of the city and well worth the visit.

Not Feeling It

December is a month often fraught with expectations. Decorating one's abode becomes a stressful obligation, objects become the means of securing connection, and purchasing is the highest form of self expression. It's hard to know how to sort your way through all the merchandise and promotions that flood the malls, the internet and retail emporiums to tempt our senses and empty our wallets for more stuff that nobody really needs. Marketing at its best and worst dominates this season. No wonder we all need to eat and drink in excess to quell the melancholy the holidays so easily inspire.

Holiday Memories

When my kids were little, dance class was on the agenda to the extent that I could get them to go.
(My mother was also insistent that I take ballet lessons or, as she reminded me, more than once, "Who made sure you knew how to walk across a room?"...)

One of the more nerve-wracking parts of December was the annual Christmas Recital staged by their school which meant the week leading up was spent in a drafty theatre making sure my son wasn't up to any mischief backstage as his sisters waited patiently to rehearse, theoretically doing their homework in little clusters sitting in the empty rows. Leaving the theatre in the dark, a cold wind often blew up Main Street and we scurried to get in to our car, complaining about its cold interior as we hurried back to our cozy home.

When the actual event rolled around, and the various players assembled with hair neatly tied back and rouged cheeks and lips (and a sparkly costume to boot)- a well of happiness rose up, inspired by the excitement of the audience and the sweet sound of their applause at the end.

"Born Beautiful"

It's a parental shocker when your children mature and are no longer your babes in arms but wallet wielding young adults who make a plethora of decisions without any assistance from you whatsoever. I get that (mostly) and appreciate that is as nature intended even as I miss the closeness of their dependency (just keeping it real.) I knew that they would grow up- resemble us or not-be psychologically hardy or not- attractive or not- hard working or not and fun to be around or not.

When I saw this W magazine cover, I was shocked to realize how much our youngest offspring resembles the young man featured with a bevy of belles. The magazine headline reads "Born Beautiful." Here's hoping my son puts his good looks to good use and makes us proud. Something to hope for at least.