mulberryshoots

"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" ~ Mary Oliver

Category: Life & Spirit

September 19, 2014

kitchens . . .

dahlias and gerbera with knives on the old formica countertop . . .

dahlias and gerbera with knives on the old formica countertop . . .

I love kitchens.

Maybe it’s because I like to cook so much and spend a lot of time in it. Or maybe it’s because the kitchen is the heart of our home where we have our meals together. I’ve had good kitchens and almost-good kitchens in past lives. Ironically, the kitchen that had more storage cabinets than I needed was in a condo that I lived in between marriages. I had enough room but nobody to cook for. Three of my kids were in college or beyond (in more ways than one.) I never had so much storage than when I lived by myself in that glorious condo, having lived in Victorian houses before and afterwards, notorious for lack of closet and storage space.

In my current kitchen, I’ve cooked many meals in its small space. The dishwasher we are replacing was won in a contest at the local grocery by G.’s father decades ago. It still chugs along noisily and gets the dishes clean on the heavy duty setting, but that takes hours of washing! The plumber is coming on Sunday morning to install the new one, not a fancy European model but a sturdy Consumer Reports highest-ranking Sears Kenmore dishwasher with a stainless interior, “turbo jets” in the back and reinforced nylon racks. It was seriously on sale and I hope it works out.

old redware holding utensils next to the stove. . .

old redware holding utensils next to the stove. . .

Preparing for replacing our decades old formica top, I’ve been culling through the utensils I have, stored in old redware crocks near the stove and placement of our kitchen knives on a long knife rack mounted at the base of one of the octagonal windows.

We use an old set of shelves that holds our napkins, potato chips, teabags and supplements. It fits perfectly in the space under the paper towel holder and we’re used to it being there. I had used two pieces of fabric as a make-do curtain but found someone in Michigan who makes custom sized door fronts in a simple Shaker style. I chose one in cherry wood that G. can attach to the shelves when it arrives next week and voila, we’ll have a cupboard finally for minimal cost that will keep our necessities handy and invisible.

I’m excited, to be sure, about this renewal for our kitchen space because we have a six foot curly maple tavern table that we use, set diagonally in the kitchen when there are two to four of us, and moved perpendicular to the kitchen when we have six or more during the holidays. It was custom made for us according to a antique table I found in Wallace Nutting’s “Pilgrim Century furniture” book by a craftsman out in the Western part of Massachusetts. Years ago, G. had bought a stock of curly maple boards that were stored in the eaves of the barn which were used in making the table turnings and breadboard top. It has a center stile down the middle and vase-and-ring turnings. A gorgeous table that required taking our door off the hinges to get it into the house!

I can cook anywhere, as I have in the miniscule kitchen of our winter rental cottage on the ocean in Rockport, a few years back. We had to get the oven fixed because the temperature sensor was off and fluctuated wildly. In spite of not having a disposer or a dishwasher, and about two and half feet of counter working space, many meals were cooked in that kitchen for Thanksgiving and Christmas, including our traditional homemade cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. The experience cooking there was kind of like playing an old upright piano, slightly out of tune, rather than a regulated and finely tuned Steinway grand piano.

Well, it looks like I’m finally going to get my Steinway kitchen. It’s going to be ebony and off white, just like piano keys, only the material will be soapstone, a dark background with some bold graining once it is waxed. Instead of a double sink in which you can’t really fit anything to wash which we’ve struggled with, there will be a single sink with plenty of space. Once we figured out how “pull out” faucet heads work, we ordered a Kohler kitchen faucet with adjustable temperature lever with just one hole required for installment.

The job is scheduled for next week. And even though we’ve had the countertop detached from the cabinets and the backsplash loosened in preparation, it’s still hard for me to believe that this is actually going to happen. You know how it is when you’ve dreamed about something for a long time and after a certain number of false starts over a number of years, it hardly seems like your vision will ever come true. But I believe it will this time, simply because this is the right timing for it to happen.

Culling things out in preparation for the soapstone fabrication has been an useful exercise. As usual, we’re finding we need half of what we had out before. The challenge now is not letting it all creep back in again.

 

 

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September 16, 2014

“Roosevelts” . . .

clouds of history . . .

clouds of history . . .

We happened to watch the opening two-hour film, “The Roosevelts” by Ken Burns on PBS last Sunday night. We were surprised to see the second two-hour segment last night. Come to find out, it’s featured every night the rest of this week, fourteen hours in all! The historical film footage is very impressive and it’s nice to have Peter Coyote narrating again; but the music is very tired from having been used for just about everything Burns has ever filmed (and that’s a lot!)

So far in its coverage of Teddy Roosevelt, he is described as an egomaniac propelled by what appears to be a manic-depressive personality, either over the top-top-top and madly killing wild animals (>11,000 of them in ten months) in Africa; or being inconsolable when his mother and his first wife die within 24 hours of each other. He banishes his firstborn daughter, Alice, after his wife’s death to a relative living in England. Alice Roosevelt Longsworth later becomes a Washington personage in her own right, outliving every one of Roosevelt’s five children from his second marriage to a childhood sweetheart. Teddy made it big and that’s what he liked to do, his rough-riding ego dominating everyone in his family circle, except poor Alice, of course.

Eleanor Roosevelt’s mother was a mean person who denigrated her daughter by calling her “Granny” as a child because of her homely countenance. After her mother died, she was rescued from a dismal adolescence by an Aunt who arranged for her go to a boarding school in England for three years. The education and support she received there provided an important platform for her, later in life.

Eleanor Roosevelt’s mother-in-law, Sara, was a very controlling person who doted on her only child, Franklin, to the extent that she tried to keep him from marrying Eleanor for a year and then arranged to live in adjoining households with them for the first ten years of their marriage. Sara maintained that she was more of a “mother” to Eleanor and Franklin’s children than her daughter-in-law. Eleanor bore six children, one of whom died as an infant, and lived in a house that was neither of her choosing nor to her liking. Franklin did not counter his mother’s wishes nor accede to his wife’s feelings.

I can’t wait to see how things turn out in the next few evenings and have also ordered a used copy of “No Ordinary Time” a historical biography of Franklin and Eleanor set against the backdrop of World War II. Doris Kearns Goodwin received a Pulitzer Prize for that book and  has also been seen recently at the Oscars, her book on Lincoln having been a resource for Steven Spielberg’s movie on Lincoln starring Daniel Day Lewis. Lewis, as you might recall, blew everyone else out of the water to win the Oscar for his portrayal of Lincoln, the President of a suffering country divided by Civil War.

Throughout the hardships of Franklin’s contraction of polio, the love affairs and the disdain of her mother-in-law, Eleanor stayed true to herself and worked hard on causes that she believed in. One of her most famous quotes was:

                     “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

I guess she should know.

Although I majored in history, I like to look forward rather than back because you can’t change the past, can you? However, this series on the Roosevelts is engaging due to the pathos of their personal lives. As we learn more about them each evening, it makes me wonder how deep their suffering was during such tumultuous times.

Even the rich and famous have mothers and fathers who ignore them, send them away, try to keep them from doing what they want to do and take up all the oxygen in the room. That two of them also happened to have been Presidents of the United States at sometimes dire times for the country, is truly remarkable.

That Eleanor, the niece of one and the wife of the other, became her own person despite being shunned by her mother and mother-in-law, betrayed by her husband, the mother of six children and remained loyal to a polio-ridden, handicapped man who hid it from the world is even more remarkable, it seems to me.

So, we’ll watch the rest of the Roosevelt saga this week and learn more about the guts it sometimes takes to live out one’s destiny.

 

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September 13, 2014

home again . . .

chinese lantern from the garden . . .

chinese lantern from the garden . . .

On Monday, five or so days ago, I arrived home around 8:30 a.m., having taken the red-eye flight from Los Angeles to Boston. I was tired. The connecting flight gate at LAX was moved a terminal away and I only got there by asking for someone to push me there in a wheelchair. For the next few nights, I didn’t sleep very well. I had vivid dreams. I woke up at 4 a.m. and couldn’t go back to sleep. Then, I slept until 9:30 after I finally fell back asleep.

Besides having irregular sleep patterns, I set forth to buy food, make broth and clean up the kitchen in anticipation of a new countertop being installed in the next month or so. Instead of having two knife blocks taking up so much room on the counter, I ordered a twenty-four inch magnetic knife strip to hold all the knives that we use. Once G. mounted it on the bottom strip of the octagonal window, we marveled at how efficient and useful it was, noting how we could have done this so long ago! I also ordered a twelve-dollar knife blade sharpener that arrived yesterday. As the reviewers said, it held firmly to the countertop, allowing for one’s non-sharpening hand to rest far away from it, and then to allow knives to be drawn towards me through a “dimond sharpening opening.” It worked so well that my knives are now razor sharp and slice through newspaper, just like on TV! DSCN6942

But I’m not really writing about knife-sharpening in this post, I’m writing about how much I appreciate being home. I’m not a world traveler much anymore, although I’ve done my share while working in the biotech industry, flying to Frankfurt and holding powwows in the airport restaurant with our business partners, then flying home two days later without having left the airport. Once, the American Airlines staff were so surprised to see me returning from Frankfurt on their own layover flight that they moved me to first class, gave me roses and the largest tin of caviar that I have ever seen! It was a memorable trip, also because it took place right before Christmas and there were stalls of German Christmas ornaments and gifts for sale set up in the airport. I had a great time, bought a couple of hand-blown glass ornaments and drank champagne and ate caviar all the way back home. Those were the days when business class was common, unlike today when people are fighting with each other in economy class about moving their seats back!

Now, I’m discovering once again how much I love being home with my husband, G. in our quirky home on the top floor of a Queen Anne Victorian house with his piano shop on the ground floor. Before my trip, we did a big refrigerator clean-out together and it really helped to come home to a half empty, clean fridge. I bought some food, shopping at a Mediterranean grocery store for their heavenly homemade baba ganoush (eggplant dip,) and brought home a sack of small Japanese light-fleshed sweet potatoes from the Vietnamese market–half the cost from the gourmet farm stand a half an hour away–and sharing them with neighbors who love them as much as we do.

Today, I went by the other Vietnamese grocery in town which offers whole roast duckling transported from Chinatown in Boston on Saturday mornings but only if you come at the right time–after they have arrived and before they are sold out–an unpredictable window of time on both ends. I also found a pack of roasted pork buns with a red dot on them and two bunches of scallions for the Peking Duck we’ll have with hoisin sauce and flour wrappers I’ll make tonight. I also picked up raw chicken and pork bones to make a “Tampopo” type broth with ginger root and green onions (plus a spoonful of apple cider vinegar.) When the broth is ready, I’ll strain it and use part of it to make a soup with tofu, mushrooms and fresh watercress added at the last minute so it’s still crunchy when served.

"tampopo" broth with chicken and pork bones . . .

“tampopo” broth with chicken and pork bones . . .

I’m glad to be home but don’t get me wrong, it was a great trip in many ways. Being with my daughter, M. who lives in Minneapolis was a treat. She went out of her way to take care of so many things, not the least of which was to drive our rental car towards Pike Place in Seattle (although we didn’t realize it at the time) during rush hour on a Friday afternoon.

The cottage views were delightful and peaceably enjoyed. DSCN6854We finally found Dungeness crab at the local grocery store and lightly steamed it, eating large chunks of crabmeat dipped in warm, melted Kerrygold butter (from Irish grass-fed cows.) Most of all I got to witness and to deeply appreciate my daughter’s silent ways that made the trip so meaningful. Many thanks, M.!

Making a home means a lot to me. Keeping it up for our needs and enjoyment is one of my great pleasures. I just happen to like doing it, even the tedious cleaning up of things. It looks and feels so much better afterwards. There are still closets to clean out and plenty of cupboards to reorganize before the kitchen gets its facelift in a couple of weeks. I guess I’ll never run out of things to do at this rate, will I?

I’m glad to be home with G.

 

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September 6, 2014

(new) lessons learned . . .

blue heron whirligig . . .

blue heron whirligig . . .

I’m writing this post in Seattle, Washington at a cottage with a view of Puget Sound right off our deck. DSCN6801I’m here with my daughter and her family. On the first two days, we ran around a lot, following an itinerary cobbled together from research from Seattle guidebooks and the Internet. Guess what? Things are not always what they seem. A Korean restaurant that looks impressive on its website turns out to be a tiny bar kind of a place wedged in at the mouth of Pike Place, the most crowded place on earth in which to try to find a restaurant with no markings visible from the street nor a place to park anywhere nearby.

Yesterday evening, we took stock, separately and together and then separately and then together again. This morning, I expressed what lessons I had learned about myself: that is, that I am idealistic and usually have a vision of what things or places are like in my mind’s eye that have no basis in reality. I also had an “idea” of going on the ferry and driving miles north to Port Townsend today because a translator, Red Pine, lived there. We weren’t going to see him and I didn’t even know him, so I realized that making that trek today was just an “idea.” So, instead, we went out for breakfast pastries–beautiful croissants and brought them back to the cottage for a leisurely breakfast.

I also changed tack about looking for Dungeness crab at pricey restaurants to eat at tonight because none of them offered a simple, steamed, Dungeness crab. And that’s all I wanted. The only thing I could find at a restaurant twenty minutes from home was a lunch plate of crab with a whole bunch of add-ons and extras, priced at $69.00! I began thinking last night about how our eating/food experiences could be improved after overpaying at eateries that didn’t meet our expectations for one reason or another. Finally, I realized that what suits us best is to buy fine ingredients, cook our own meals and eat at home. So, I started with a grocery store called Albertson’s. Lo and behold in the seafood section, there were whole, Dungeness crabs that weighed about 2 pounds each. Prior to that, I had called around and found a gourmet place that answered cheerfully that “yes, we have Dungeness crab” for $28 a half pound. The ones we bought at Albertson’s were $11. a POUND. I picked up some Poupon mustard, sour cream and fresh horseradish to mix together for a dip for the crab, along with melted butter, of course.

We found a grocery/eatery store that had carryout kale salad and an apple salad with dill which we bought to have along with the crab. So, that took care of dinner. Along the way, we passed a little shop called “Balloons and cupcakes” which reminded us that Josie’s 4th birthday is next Wednesday. We came back to the cottage with a helium birthday balloon, two cupcakes decorated with chocolate frosting and jimmies, and birthday candles for our after dinner birthday celebration. At the Planetarium and at the wonderful Elliot Bay Bookstore yesterday, we had bought some books for Josie, which I’ll wrap up for her to open tonight.

josie looking through her new binoculars. . .

josie looking through her new binoculars. . .

At our cottage, we’d seen a tiny hummingbird appear at dusk, fluttering and flitting about. From the beginning of our stay, I was charmed by a blue heron whirligig, an inventive concoction of very lightweight plastic, hand painted with bird’s eyes and feathers. I just loved that thing and thought how wonderful it would look mounted on the second floor balcony of the barn, visible from our kitchen window on the third floor, and also viewable by anyone coming into the drive of our home. So, we managed to find out from the owner where it could be had and asked the Wild Birds store to hold the last one for us–which we picked up today (see top photo.)

So, lessons learned (especially because I don’t travel a lot) have been to reflect about what I really want to do, and why–and to manage expectations differently (rather than eating out, to search for prime foods nearby and eat in.) Tomorrow is our last day at this lovely place. And we have had a lovely time of it. By not pushing ourselves too hard. And by enjoying what’s nearby with each other.

Cheers!

sun setting . . .

sun setting . . .

 

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August 28, 2014

Victory! . . .

. . . the giraffe logo symbolizes "sticking our necks out!"

. . . the giraffe logo symbolizes “sticking our necks out!”

I don’t know how many of you live in New England but we have been transfixed by the 40+ day Market Basket grocery store melodrama. Last night after eleven o’clock, news finally came in that the family feud between two factions of the DeMoulas family has ended and that Arthur T. DeMoulas is back in the saddle again after having been fired as CEO in early June. For years, he had run a business that had no debt; paid 25,000 employees well including part-timers whose minimum wage was higher than the competition; provided bonuses and generous benefits which engendered employee loyalty from workers who spent their entire careers at the company; and kept prices low selling quality groceries to a loyal 2M customer base in Massachusetts and New Hampshire. Profits in the millions were distributed to a handful of family shareholders over the years but a feud between cousins came to a head this summer.

The amazing thing about this public uprising is that it went on for so long, becoming more Solomonic by the day (cut the baby in half?). I read today that the senior managers who had been ousted (eight of them fired along with Artie T in early June) had a shadow plan that kept them in touch with vendors week-by-week in order to let them know the status and when to mobilize shipments (this Tuesday in preparation for a reopening today (Thursday.)

Right now, I am watching Artie T. speak to the troops live on TV. His emotional words of thanks and acknowledgement are heartfelt. Rarely has a CEO spoken with so much clarity to explain what the meaning of working for a “family” means, a family where everyone is considered equal (cashiers, baggers, managers, vendors and suppliers.) Truly rare.

Weeks ago, I purchased two Market Basket Strong tee shirts in support of a fund whose purpose was to provide interim pay for truckers and warehouse people who supported the employee strike. They arrived last weekend and I held off sending them to my daughter and sister-in-law this week when it wasn’t clear whether Arthur T.’s deal to buy out the business would prevail. Now that it has, I’m delighted to have a memento to commemorate this class struggle. This is also a small victory for those folks who participated in the “Occupy Wall Street” movement which lacked practical goals and suffered from ineffective leadership.

In his speech, Artie T talks about human dignity, mutual responsibility and moral compass. His words embody corporate responsibility towards employees that is rarely heard, never mind an operational business reality. For those of you who don’t live here, please know that we’re talking about seventy-one grocery stores (71!) whose sales total over $4 billion a year! Employees sacrificed a lot during the 42 days of this strike–some employed for 40 years working for Market Basket. To the press, he said, “We’re in the people business first; and in the food business second.”

This may sound like a fairy tale and in a way, it truly is. I’m just waiting to see who will write the definitive book about the Market Basket saga. Whoever it is, I’m hoping it will be a real heavyweight, a reporter whose books lend weight to the seriousness of this story and its impact on American culture. Carl Bernstein (“All the President’s Men) or Doris Kearns Goodwin (Pulitzer prize winning biographer) might do this human drama justice.

The impact of this summer’s Market Basket saga is important nationally. Scholars from business schools, marketing firms and Governors from Massachusetts and New Hampshire have weighed in. One business school professor commented early on that Market Basket will become a cautionary business case study for how boards should not behave!

Thomas A. Kochan, a professor of work and employment  at the MIT Sloan School of Management said in a NYTimes article that the episode showed that “the employees are the most valuable asset in this business,” concluding that:

 “Market Basket has done more to educate us on how to manage a business than any business case study that’s been written to date.” 

These employees were not unionized–they didn’t need to be. Perhaps other business owners will take stock and learn from it. I hope so. In the meantime, Arthur S., the cousin who fired Artie T., got married for the fourth time last Friday. Reportedly, he’s on his honeymoon in Greece. Maybe he’ll decide to stay there!

This is a happy day for a lot of people returning to work, knowing they still have a job and for customers who look forward to shopping again at Market Basket for the long Labor Day weekend. Had the Market Basket employee uprising not succeeded with the reinstatement of Arthur T. Demoulas as its leader, all of us watching for over a month would have witnessed a cynical commentary on the country we live in today. Corporate greed and family vendettas would have won over democracy and lots of heart from people who could ill afford to lose out. It’s a victory for diverse stakeholders (employees, vendors, truckers, warehouse workers and customers) who hung in there together at great personal risk and expense.

With this success, maybe more Americans will wake up and say, “I’m just not going to take it anymore!”

One belated note: I heard on the car radio that when asked how long it would take to restock the grocery stores after a 6 week layoff, one worker said, “I don’t know but I just threw a sleeping bag into my truck, and I’m staying there until it’s done!” You can’t buy this kind of loyalty and commitment!

Here’s an article with a photo of restocked fresh seafood at MB two days AFTER the deal was announced.

http://www.bostonglobe.com/business/2014/08/29/with-smiles-and-hugs-market-basket-workers-get-busy-restocking/KmAAAWYdmYcAP4Lqg79B3I/story.html?s_campaign=email_BG_TodaysHeadline

And guess what? The Market Basket strike, the biggest, successful non-union labor uprising in recent history succeeded right before Labor Day!

Go, Market Basket!

 

 

 

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August 26, 2014

“Hoosiers” . . .

Have you ever seen the movie called “Hoosiers”? It’s a story based on a small Indiana town’s basketball team winning the Indiana State Basketball Championships against all odds in the 1950’s. It’s one of my all-time favorite movies. Part of it is due to the fact that nobody’s perfect in this film: not the unpopular basketball coach played by Gene Hackman, not the spinster acting principal played by Barbara Hersey nor the town drunk played by Dennis Hopper.

The real hero of this movie in my mind is Jerry Goldsmith who composed the film score. That’s right, you heard me right. It was nominated for an Oscar but didn’t win despite music that can almost bring you to tears–even if you don’t know the story that the score is supposed to illustrate.

It’s a movie about losers. The coach is a loser because he has a history of anger management problems, hitting one of the basketball players. The town drunk is a loser because, well, he can’t stop drinking. The boys don’t play that well, actually. Except for Jimmy, who not only joins them late but makes the very last minute shot at the state championships. They are all people who have problems, are shy and say and do all the wrong things. That they turn out a winning team is, well, a fairy tale of sorts. But it’s more than that, I think. It’s the idea of believing in people, an idealism that is seldom realized nor rewarded in real life.

When they arrive in the huge Indianapolis stadium for the final playoff game and look around, the boys are obviously awed and intimidated by their awe. Hackman takes out his measuring tape and asks the boys to measure the court. It’s fifteen feet. He then gets them to measure the distance between the hoop and the floor. It’s ten feet. Those measurements are exactly the same as those of their court back home he says to them and the boys smile and visibly relax. The more things change, the more some things remain the same.

“Hoosiers” was made on a low budget and has surprised people with its 13th ranking in the top 100 films of all time. The movie soundtrack may have a lot to do with its staying power. I was thinking that if more people knew about it and played it going to and from work or doing errands, it would be hard to be in a bad mood.

Music can be an antidote to much of what ails us. If you want to listen to a sample and have a Mac, go to I-Tunes and type in “Hoosiers Soundtrack.”

After many years of only a partial soundtrack being available, there is now a full soundtrack provided by Integra:

Enjoy!

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August 19, 2014

good advice . . .

Today, I noticed a quotation by a venerated Japanese painter, Katsushika Hokusai (1760-1849). Hokosui was a late-blooming artist who was remarkably well-traveled and turned out more than ten thousand woodblock prints.

 “All that I made before seventy is insignificant. At seventy-three, I began to understand how animals, plants, trees, birds, fish, and insects are constructed. At ninety, I will enter into the secret nature of things. . . and when I am one hundred and ten, everything–every detail–will live.” 

I was happy to come across this perspective and to learn that instead of feeling marginalized as you get older, that there’s still time to be creative–and moreover, that it need never stop.

Later this morning, I noticed an interesting observation made by James Schiro, a lead director of Goldman Sachs who passed away recently from multiple myeloma.

“Shortly before he left Zurich Financial, Mr. Schiro was asked by The New York Times to cite the most important leadership lesson he had learned in his career as an executive. He quoted Colin Powell who said:

         “People don’t like change, but they can manage change,” he said in part. “They can’t handle uncertainty. I think it is the job of leaders to eliminate uncertainty.”

So I guess for people like you and me, we can manage change, like growing older and being creative; what’s harder is feeling certain that we can still find ways to be creative.

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August 17, 2014

generations . . .

 

"tempus fugit!"

“tempus fugit!”

In the Sunday New York Times today, there’s a feature article about the “Millennial Generation,” those born after 1980 and before 2000, “a giant cohort now estimated to number at least 80 million Americans.” Wow. That’s hard to imagine. I’ve considered myself to be of the Baby Boomer generation more or less (74.6 million born between 1946 and 1964.) Then there’s the generation in between called Gen-X (84 million people born between 1961 and 1981.) I read online that Gen-X is considered the “middle-child” of our population right now. With that kind of perspective, Baby Boomers represent the eldest child, Gen-X the middle-child and the Millennials are the youngest kid in our American family, at least sociologically and culturally speaking.

That’s an interesting way to look at things if you realize we’re talking about 240 million people here (80M+75M+84M) in these three generations. For me, it also offers some insight into why I feel I may not have much in common with people these days–especially if it turns out to be with younger generations (Mills & X-Gen) who are on Facebook, have I-Phones or their equivalent and Tweet besides. To draw these distinctions further, what kind of music do they like? or is it indistinguishable among these generations? How about eating preferences?: non-gluten, vegan, vegetarian, locavore, fusion, paleo, fast-food? What about reading? on-line, books, sci-fi, kindles, newspapers, magazines? If you think about it, trends are all over the place and are not easily categorized by age either.

But when you watch cooking shows like “Chopped” and somebody says, “oh, that presentation is so ’80’s” –you know the fresh raspberry cluster with a fresh mint leaf or two–, you realize that there’s also a generation gap in food trends. My reaction to the explosion of easy demolitions on TV is that many of the kitchens are still serviceable if you didn’t have money to “update” them. So, there seems to be a distinction between attitudes of efficiency and economy versus trends for granite countertops and state of the art sinks and faucets. Of course lots of people want granite countertops, even baby boomers with empty nests and money to finally spend on themselves instead of college and graduate student tuition payments. (I’m partial to soapstone myself but not sure if I can finagle that for our kitchen!)

I guess before I read the article about “Millennials” I thought we were all the same: human beings that is. Ones who go to school, some who get married and some don’t, some who have children and some don’t, raise them and send them to college while working jobs that are demanding in an economy that is not thriving as much as it used to. It isn’t that simple, apparently. The Millennials have more of a social conscience and are more empathetic towards others and doing good than the other generations, as noted in the article. Gen-X has been caught in the middle and is still wondering about its identity. Baby Boomers have been through it all, at least up to now and are savoring retirement if they can afford it and crossing off items on their bucket lists if they are healthy enough to try out what’s on them.

Honestly, I’m content to stay at home, clean up my kitchen with its outdated formica countertop, put the remaining bag of mulch around the hydrangea bush near the front door and water the the Montauk daisies that I planted yesterday with $5 dollar plants I found at Lowe’s. G. and I ate a roasted Peking Duck last night for dinner that I bought from the local Vietnamese market in town on Saturday. I made the wrappers from scratch which we spread with hoisin sauce, fresh green onions pulled apart nestled with crisp duck skin and fragrant roasted duckling pieces folded together. What a feast it was! We could hardly move afterwards.

Reflecting about the huge numbers of people in each of these three generations (@80M each) is interesting though, because it helps me to understand at least why some things seem so far removed from my consciousness (like Twitter, although tons of people of all ages use it–especially actors and celebrities) but other things don’t seem to separate generations at all. For example, my granddaughter is leaving to start her freshman year at college in Baltimore next week and it seems that there are universally true things that repeat themselves: finding nice dorm room furnishings and shoes that fit, saying goodbye to friends from high school who are going separate ways, hoping that you get along with your roommate and moving into a different level of learning and experience. That doesn’t change much from generation to generation. Love doesn’t either:  for my children who are “Gen-X” and my granddaughters (ages 4 and 18) whose generations aren’t even labelled as yet.

As the old adage goes: “the more things change, the more they stay the same.” Some stay the same while everything else around us spins off in amazingly different directions. C’est La Vie, I guess.

. . . "time and tide wait for no man."

. . . “time and tide wait for no man.”

 

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August 11, 2014

(still) good advice! . . .

simplicity itself . . .

simplicity itself . . .

If you read the last post, you’ll know that I’m in the throes of cleaning out books. The piles of cardboard boxes are now diminished by half. I have resisted keeping books that I might read again, and only saving those I KNOW I’ll want to read again.

Anyhow, in the back of one row of books in the side shelf, I picked up Dale Carnegie’s bestseller, “How to Win Friends & Influence People.” I thought about tossing it into one of the boxes but as I flipped through it, yellow highlighted sentences sprang out at me and made me laugh out loud. I think his simple handbook of how to get along with people is still worth its weight in gold. Here’s some examples of why.

“If you want to gather honey, don’t kick over the beehive!”

1. People aren’t interested in you. They’re interested in themselves.

“We are interested in others when they are interested in us.. . you can make more friends in two months being interested (sincerely) in them than you would in two years trying to get them interested in you.”

2. Smile often at people from the time you get up to the time you go to bed. Watch how this changes your outlook and everyone else’s towards you.

3. What and how you think about things determines your attitude and outlook on life. If you are unhappy, it’s because of your inner thoughts.

“Everybody in the world is seeking happiness–and there is one sure way to find it. That is by controlling your thoughts. Happiness doesn’t depend on outward conditions. It depends on inner conditions. . . . It isn’t what you have or who you are or what you are doing that makes you happy or unhappy. It is what you think about it.” (my emphasis) 

4. Stop criticizing. Criticism is futile, no matter what.

“Criticism is futile because it puts a person on the defensive and usually makes him strive to justify himself. Criticism is dangerous, because it wounds a person’s precious pride, hurts his sense of importance and arouses resentment.” 

5. Be sincerely interested in others; let them think they came up with an idea and remember their name.

“People are not interested in you. They are not interested in me. They are interested in themselves, morning, noon and after dinner.”

That’s about it in a nutshell. Practical and wise advice. It doesn’t say much for human nature, though, does it? And if you’re stubborn like me, it’s sometimes hard to remember these adages that will work 100% of the time, but only if you can genuinely apply them in a sincere manner.

Still worth thinking about and experimenting on the people around you, don’t you think?  I wonder what tomorrow’s batch of books will turn up.

 

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August 10, 2014

sorting things out. . .

 

pink phlox from the garden. . .

pink phlox from the garden. . .

For awhile now, maybe a few years even, I’ve been having a tough time finding books that I enjoy and read all the way to the end (without skipping to the end.) I wondered why that was. As we all know, there are trends in writing, just as there are in films, movies and TV shows. There seems to be a kind of lemming-like aspect to lots of things that are trendy so if you don’t necessarily buy into nor enjoy what’s offered, you’re often out of luck. . . big time.

Enough complaining about that. What has happened to me today is that I started to sort out my books in earnest, pushing the flaps down on a dozen package store cardboard boxes and lining empty ones along the bookcase by the far wall in the room where the orchids thrive most of the time in the winter. The plants are flourishing now on the back wrought iron deck (that’s flooring, not railing) and watered well throughout the summer, much easier to do than dripping water all over the shelves inside.

The thing that has stymied me for awhile is getting enough shelf space opened up in order to start reorganizing the books I want to keep. Today, that process began as I was delighted to rediscover treasured books that I have owned and read in the past: books by writers like Alix Schulman, Iris Murdoch, Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Paul Auster, Ursula Le Guin and Haruki Murakami. For an hour or two, I have been immersed in paging through some of these volumes, setting aside a stack that I’m going to read/re-read during breaks from cleaning out the house during the dog days of August. It has restored my faith in reading for pleasure while reinforcing the notion that “utopia is (already) in your own backyard.”

I managed to transport the heavy cartons of books by putting them on my handy, compact wheelchair that is still up here and stage them to an area waiting to be carried downstairs. Some fellows are coming by this week to help move our Steinway concert grand piano back from a rental to Nantucket. When the “guys” are in, I will ask them to carry the books downstairs and load them directly into the back of my Subaru Outback. Then, I’lll deliver them to the public library loading dock where someone with a dolly will help me unload them. Easy Piece-y.

I can already see the benefit of this book reorganization because now my favorite books are consolidated into a bookcase in the anteroom to my bedroom where I can see them shelved together, rather than being strewn here and there, all over the place. Having filled five boxes of discards already, I’ve made enough headway to keep going. It’s interesting also to note, not only the books that I want to keep and re-read, but the ones that I quickly decide to discard: novels that didn’t take, some self-help. energy and philosophy books that aren’t as good as the ones I’m keeping.

Meanwhile, I also have a couple of cartons, flatter and bigger than the book boxes to put kitchenware that’s obsolete or too worn to keep using (those skillets where food ALWAYS sticks, no matter what you do!) And, a new category of things too good to give away that someone might make a profit from (not me!) selling in their consignment shop. There’s a place down on Canal Street adjacent to a nascent farmers’ market (3 tables) that I walked through last weekend. There are vintage, everyday wares on display that young couples might want to furnish their first apartments with. Finding a new home for kitchenware would ease my conscience for having so much stuff!

So, stagnation seems to be moving along a little bit. (Hey, it’s the extra-big full moon today, isn’t it?) Sometimes a task seems so daunting that even after I’ve fetched all those empty boxes, it feels too burdensome to get started.

Now that it’s midday on Sunday, I feel like I can take a break and steam up some Asian roast pork buns for lunch. And have a tall glass of iced green tea with honey and ginseng. Then, I can settle down to reading books to my heart’s content.

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