Kendall Park

There are things I could never anticipate, like learning my childhood home had been converted to a residence for the mentally handicapped.  Seriously.  The property, housing several adult men with round the clock supervision, was sterile and bleak.  Hard to fathom the same house witnessed countless backyard barbeques, rights of passage celebrations, and verboten high school bashes when my parents were away.  Dogwoods, a weeping birch, rose and peonies bushes have been uprooted from the earth.  A fence guards the perimeter seemingly to deter the inhabitants from trying to leave.  The house where I spent the first eighteen years of my life was unrecognizable. 

A Treat And A Trick

I've lost track, but it's probably close to 15 years since I visited the town where I was raised.  In the late '50s, this bedroom community sprung up in the middle of cornfields. Rows of identical houses, littered with abandoned tricycles, were erected on streets bearing names more often associated with British naval officers than a subdivision in New Jersey.  Really strange to be old enough for my childhood to feel so remote, and to revisit places that had once encompassed my entire world and informed my view of it.  I felt like a character in a movie fast forwarding in time as a the walls around me aged.  Specific neighborhood streets like the ones that lead to our swim club on humid summer days evoked wistful affection.  An undercurrent of my childhood was anticipating the future, perpetual excitement induced by thinking about my older self.  It was all unknown.  Now much less so.  Many of the blanks have been filled in.  My perspective has also shifted; I  live much more in the present, the result of wisdom more than the number of candles on the birthday cake.

On our trail I was tickled to encounter a Halloween parade at the Catholic grammar school I attended.  A treat indeed.  Later that evening, after we had turned off the lights and gone to bed, my mother awoke to a light on in the TV room.  On her way back to bed she used the guest room bathroom and was surprised to find the seat up.  There were no male guests in the house that day and I was the last to use the toilet before I retired.  The seat was definitely down.  My father, the trickster, had visited.

Autumn in Manhattan

NYC in Black and White

Fire Escapes

ava

The Glass Menagerie

Amazing production of one of my favorite Tennessee Williams' plays.  Stellar performance!!!!

SJP

There really are no words to describe my 45 year old friendship with SJP.  We are deeply intertwined.  Life has been experienced side by side. The milestones, and the ho hum, equally significant.  Profound love.  Celebrating her 50th birthday goes under the milestone column.  Immense joy, and epic laughter into the wee hours of the morning. 

The Big Apple

Months have passed since I've seen JOB.  Travel, work and living 90 miles apart make it increasingly more difficult for us to get together.  When we realized we were going to be in Manhattan at the same time we carved out an afternoon for a long over due catch up, and oodles of art.

My arrival coincided with a drop in temperature.  Walking uptown, it was obvious winter coats, hats and scarves were worn by many for the first time this season.  By the end of the day, when I met another friend in Tribeca for dinner, my feet were sore, and for good reason.  I calculated I had walked more than 11 miles, in boots!   After being away for months I just wanted to soak it all in; the vibrant street fashions, the  store fronts time hasn't altered, and that New York City pizza smell.  At the end of day, even with throbbing feat, I was very happy.

Galleries, Museums, Walking and Talking

En Route

Tuesday

Morning on the trail

A Day at the Races

The Kin

Girls Weekend

Easy, fun weekend with friends in PS.  There's always so much more to do than we end up doing.  Chilling at the house, and cooking trumps plans that involve making oneself presentable and driving.  Enjoyed a fantastic Sunday morning hike on Lykken Trail before the temperatures got higher.

From Day to Night

I woke up with a strong desire to be on a hiking trail, but the hours before my first meeting slipped through my grasp.  Some days it's easier to succumb to not having time to exercise, but today my yearning didn't wane.  As the work week finally receded, I scrambled up the mountain as the sun was setting.  On the way down I had a magical experience.  The path became darker, the half moon cast shadows, and I needed my flashlight app to navigate the rocky terrain.  All was still as I fully experienced this stunning transition from day to night.

I don't know what it is about the transitional times of day that move me so deeply.  The shifting light has obvious appeal, but the more I'm present in my life the more I profoundly experience the daily cycle of beginnings and endings.  An unending loop of starts and finishes infusing me with hope and gratitude.  An acknowledgement of what has been and what is ahead.  I'm calmed by this fluidity.  It is the only thing that is constant, and is a reminder that nothing is ever static.

Sharp Teeth

I purchased this book long ago at a book party, had it signed, and intended to read it.  Instead it sat on my shelf collecting dust while I read many other books.  Like a destination I circled on the map, but hadn't yet visited.  The book received praise from friends, reviewers, and graced end of the year best book lists, and still it remained on my shelf.  Truthfully I forgot about it until a writer recently mentioned it, motivating me to finally crack it open.  A gift had been waiting for me all these years tucked away in my office.  This is an absolutely spectacular novel.  The verse is poetic, the story inspired, and sorrowful.  I devoured it in 24 hours.  So sad to have the experience end, I may have to read it twice.

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