Local Lunch

Today was one of those days that made me feel like I never want to even consider leaving Brooklyn. It is the closest I have ever felt to my childhood fantasy of living on Sesame Street. (more about that someday...)

I took Murphy (my silly little dog who needs dog friends lest he start believing that he is one of the cats) to the dog run at a sort of near-by park.
On the way home, we stopped by the farmer's market and picked up some random goodies, and came home to make the most perfect meal... braeburn apples, strong cheese, hard-boiled egg, wheat bread and wildflower honey, all from farms within a short drive of NYC. (if it looks like it wasn't much of a feast it's because I gobbled up most of it before it occurred to me how beautiful and "photo worthy" it was.)
I feel so eco! (so much better than a Big Mac)
And for dinner I can fry up the purple potatoes and red onions... yum :)

Happy Birthday Dar

March 11 was Dar's birthday. I don't remember what the date was that she died... I know I was 14 and I remember that the sunset was extraordinary that day. My dad had picked me up from work and we decided to make a detour down PCH (Pacific Coast Highway) to watch it over the ocean. I still remember him pulling over and saying "it looks like the gates of heaven are opening". We just sat there and marveled as the sky grew darker and less colorful.
It reminded me of that Lifesavers commercial from the 80s where the little girl and the dad are watching the sun set behind a mountain... he's saying "going, going, gone." and she whispers "do it again, Daddy".
We drove home, went in the house and someone (I think it must have been my mom) said that they had just gotten a call, Dar died.
Really, she had been gone for a long time, a prisoner in her broken body. Personality and character lost to Alzheimer's. And I remember feeling relief that it was over for her, not my own relief but as if hers was so great that it spilled all over the earth and comforted us. She was free from the prison, and her Carl was welcoming her home after being apart for more than half a century.
She wore her wedding band until she died, and I wear it as my wedding band now. It's been through a lot in both of those marriages, and it's worn and nicked and scratched. I hope it lasts to be a reminder of love and devotion for another generation. The engraved date is still visible on the inner edge, actually it says "C.B.W. to G.E.T. March 25, 15". I'm sure it wouldn't be hard to find the date that G.E.T. went to C.B.T. (my sister knows every date and time and place, and what everyone was wearing...). But I'd rather just remember the date that she was sent to us. March 11, 1894.

The Isles of Shoals

This unlikely couple met at a little island hotel on one of the rocky islands divided along the border of New Hampshire and Maine. She was a waitress and he was a scholar and Shakespearian actor from a prominent family. Fortunately, opposites attract, because this pair are my great-grandparents (that's Dar on the right!).
My Grandmother told the best stories of their adventures together... she being the one to change a flat tire when the car broke down, and her mother-in-law scolding him because his wife preferred the company of "the help" in the kitchen to that of the high-society guests at a dinner party.
I have their wedding silverware, and I use it every day. The thought of her standing over a sudsy sink, laughing with the servants (she had such a servant's heart) makes me smile and makes washing my own dishes a little more pleasant.
Maybe this Spring I'll make it to this place that was so special to all of them... I've always wanted to go. It's not so far from Brooklyn...

mmm... warm

when it's 15 degrees outside, there's nothing like warm pb cookies inside

I'm a little teapot...

short and stout,

here is my handle, here is my spout. When I get all steamed up then I shout
"TIP ME OVER AND POUR ME OUT!!!"

not only was this my favorite song when I was 5, but this teapot is part of a set (the part that must have been broken long before my time) that belonged to Dar. As far as I know, only the sugar dish remains. I still remember her lovely old hands (mine are looking more and more like them every day) holding that spoon steady, picking up a heaping teaspoon-full of sugar and expertly shaking the perfect amount on our buttered toast, then tapping the corners to sprinkle the excess back into the pot. Amazing how I even remember the sounds. A little dash of cinnamon, and we were eating like queens. But never with the teapot. We mostly drank oj.
I found this at the salvation army thrift shop down the street from our house (well, it was actually a questionably legal basement apartment in Pontiac, Michigan.) about 6 years ago. Preparing to move, we were dropping things off, and my husband made it very clear that we had no money and no room... we already had too much "useless crap" to pack. ("useless crap" is a term that covers everything other than his clothes, shoes, books, dvds and various other personal items that hold much more significance than, say, towels or dishes. They would fall under the "useless crap" category.) Anyway... I couldn't help but swoon over this sweet teapot; identical to the sugar dish from my childhood idol's kitchen table. But I immediately put it back down. I wasn't going to bother.
The next day I was packing, scrubbing walls, etc. and he walked in with my teapot. It was literally his last $15, and it was the least practical thing he had ever done (other than, perhaps, falling in love with me). Even still, after all of these years and what they hold, I can hear the "I love you" that it was meant to speak.
damn teapot. I love it too. Whatever happened to that guy? I liked him.

Make new friends,
but keep the old.

One is silver,
the other is gold.

A circle is round,
it has no end.
That's how long,
I will be your friend.

A fire burns bright,
it warms the heart.
We've been friends,
from the very start.

You have one hand,
I have the other.
Put them together,
We have each other.

Silver is precious,
Gold is too.
I am precious,
and so are you.

You help me,
and I'll help you
and together
we will see it through.

The sky is blue
The Earth is green
I can help
to keep it clean

Across the land
Across the sea
Friends forever
We will always be

. . . but while I breathe Heaven's air, and Heaven looks down on me, And smiles at my best meanings, I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.

~Lord Alfred Tennyson
from The Foresters