a very short visit

Two dinners.

Two long walks in Central Park.

One movie (the new Borat one).

One new phrase that perfectly characterizes certain people:  virtue signaling.

Several long, good talks without interruption.

One expression I wish my son would eliminate from his vocabulary: in a sec.  He uses this in response to anything I ask him to look at, read, pick up, watch, help with, or otherwise do.

One brief catch-up with Aziz, our building favorite.

Several arguments when Alexander deliberately tries to provoke me:

Like constantly using the word jawn, which is Philly-speak for a noun referring to just about anything you want it to.

Or challenging my more liberal views by expounding on ridiculous conspiracy theories and trying to convince me that he believes them to be true (he doesn't).

Or when I ask him to put his dishes in the dishwasher (vs the sink) and he tells me that I should, because I have more experience with that kind of thing.

Or when I suggest his giving me his credit card info so I can order things for him that he wants, and he tells me he doesn't trust me with his card as I will probably spend too much, just like the Democrats.

And many many laughs.    

Then in less than 48 hours, poof, he's back in his car and gone. I miss my boy already.

 

thanksgiving 2020

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.

I love the big family hang-outs.

The amazing, and endless amounts of,  food.

And the togetherness of it all.

I love everything about the holiday.

And every year looks pretty much the same. 

Except of course for 2020.

First, it's unseasonably warm. Mid 60's. 

But that's the least unusual thing about this Thanksgiving.

Alexander and I wake up late. 11. I think the last time I slept that late was in high school. It must be that comforting feeling of knowing my son is safe and nearby.

We go for a five-mile walk.  I introduce Alexander to The North Woods. He, too, can't believe its quiet beauty.

We heed the advice of Dr. Fauci and others who are warning against big Thanksgiving celebrations. The recommendation this year is to stay home, so we can all be here for next year.

At 3:30 my family gets together via Zoom. One other thing we have, among many, to be grateful for. 

22 adults and 5 little kids, on and off for a half hour.

After our Zoom call, I make Cosmopolitans, forgetting to double the recipe. We each have half a glass, though it's enough to give me a bit of a buzz.

Our "early" Thanksgiving dinner doesn't happen.

We eat around 8:30 ... an excellent duck dinner  (picked up yesterday at Chez Nick). It's poultry, so close enough.

And while this Thanksgiving may not be quite as great as prior years, it's still pretty great.

I'm with my son.

My family is safe and healthy.

We have (exceptional) food on the table.

And there is no traffic to fight going home.

11-month absence ends

There have been numerous I'm-comings that have morphed into I'm not coming." But this time I think it will really happen. Especially after my many warnings of, "I do not want to spend Thanksgiving alone." And, "You better not let me down."

Alexander gets tested (again) and receives his result yesterday: negative.

He tells me he'll be leaving Philadelphia early this morning between seven and eight. That means he could arrive between nine and ten.

I plan accordingly.

"Text me when you're leaving," I write.

I cleaned the apartment yesterday, thinking I wouldn't have time today unless I wanted to get up very very early.

Still, I do get up somewhat early to wash my hair before he arrives.

I check my phone, no messages. 

I call. No answer.

At 9:30 I'm ready.

AT 9:35 Alexander calls. "I'm leaving around eleven."

Okay, well at least he's coming. 

At 12:30, he leaves. I guess he's not heeding my suggestion that the later he leaves, the longer it'll take.

He calls while on the road and asks, "Where's the best place to park on the street?"

Clearly he's been gone too long. 

The best place to park is anywhere you can find a space (which in his case turns out to be nowhere). Alexander ends up parking in the over-priced garage across the street from where I live.

Finally, at 3:30, I get to see my son.

And hug him too.

And within minutes, he's finishing up some work so he can be done with it by dinner time.

It all feels normal and good.

I have much to be grateful for. 

Happy Thanksgiving.

hair, lines, and broken plans

It's been a slow week. No different from most.

I get my hair cut —  the third time since COVID distancing began. I love the little place I go to, Blu Bocker on the UES. They take all the necessary precautions. And this week I'm the only client there. 

My hair is more silvery than gray, and surprisingly shiny and healthy-looking. I'm anxious for it to be grown out so I can experiment with highlights (or lowlights). It seems to be taking forever and it's only (only???)  been nine months. 

It's something to look forward to, anyway. 

I have two goals: not to look old (er) and not to be a slave to having my hair colored every three or four weeks. For now, since no one sees me much anyway, having dual colors is not all that hard to live with.

And though my salon may be empty, the streets are not. 

I pass long lines of people waiting to get a COVID test before Thanksgiving. This scene, in front of a CityMD, starts on 86th St. and curls around the block and up 85th. 

Some people even come prepared for the long wait with their own chairs.

My walks during the week are mostly alone, but I look forward to the weekends when I typically walk with friends. Yesterday it was supposed to be Zelia, but that didn't happen.

And today, it's supposed to be four of us.

Around 9 we set a plan.

Then a few minutes later, the plan changes.

And within a half-hour of setting a plan, there is none.

On the positive side, this plan falling apart has nothing to do with COVID, unlike just about everything else.

But the promising news on the vaccine front gives us real hope that the end of this nightmare is in sight.  

It may be further away than we'd like, but at least we can see it. And that's a whole lot better than where we were in March and April.

two product discoveries I love

I don't usually post product recommendations, but every now and then I come across something that, to use Marie Kondo's words, spark joy.

In looking for a gift for my sister (who is an expert chef), I come across a site called The Olive Tap. I buy her a sample of six small bottles of olive oil and vinegar. They arrive beautifully packaged in a small basket, and, you get to choose (among a very large offering) the ones you want. My sister loves the gift and thinks all the products are great. And so I buy a group for myself, spending about an hour deciding which ones. 

I settle on these:

I use them on salads and vegetables and so far, I love every one I've tried.

And then there's this.

My morning routine includes making a small pot of coffee, then pouring myself a cup, and adding the balance into an autoseal Contigo thermos. 

I do this every day. I wash out the thermos every day too, but over time, the inside has become totally discolored, though I never thought much about it. (Wish I'd taken a picture).

Anyway, am not sure exactly how I hear about Bottle Bright.

But I do, and because each package is so inexpensive ($5.99 for 12 tablets), I buy three. 

They arrive and I try my first one. Oh em-gee. I fill my thermos with warm water, add one tablet, leave overnight, and use a bottle brush to just clean out all the loose particles. The effort is minimal and the result remarkable.

Before:

After:

Okay, well, that's my exciting news for the day.

more of the same

I haven't been posting much, as I have little to say.

The news continues to be dominated by two stories: Trump's refusal to concede, and the surge in COVID cases in almost every state.

My days are pretty much spent doing little: walking (I'm averaged 27 miles/week), reading (nothing I'd recommend), and binging on Netflix (am addicted to Black Money Love). 

In the past week, I've seen only two friends: Zelia and Susan.

But I have become totally enthralled by the beauty of Central Park as I spend more time there.

Here on a rainy, misty day (yesterday).

And here on a sunny day (today).

The park is magnificent in all kinds of weather.

There's something quite special about finding serenity in the middle of a big city.

And to think I've lived here for 30 plus years, and am just now beginning to appreciate the park's magic.

happy 28th

28 years ago, on November 11, Alexander was born. It was a Wednesday, just like today.

The world, and my world, were different then.

First, November was chilly.  Not like it is today. The last four days have been early summer weather, mid 70's and cloudless. But 28 years ago, when November felt like November, I dressed appropriately when I went to the hospital on November 10, in a heavy wool Morgane le Fay coat (that I loved and wore for about 20 years).

My dad was alive, and got to hold my son the day he came home.

Bill Clinton was the new president-elect, having defeated a Republican incumbent who didn't claim voter fraud and act as if he'd won.

My nephews hadn't even been Bar Mitzvahed yet; now two of them are dads.

Thanksgiving 1992

Nine-eleven was just another date on the calendar.

And the only people wearing masks worked in hospitals, were criminals, or were celebrating Halloween.

So yes, a lot has changed since my son was born.

There are days when he frustrates me. Days when he disappoints. And days that I don't understand some of what he does or thinks.

But it always turns out that no one makes me laugh harder, feel happier, or be more proud than my child.

Happy 28th Alexander. I love and adore you.

This was the last day I saw him ... December 26, 2019. 

Now he really should get his butt back to NYC to see me. It's been far, far too long.

finally!!!

You don't have to be watching the news to know.

Truckers.

Cabbies.

Cars.

Even busses.

They spontaneously erupt in loud honking and beeping.

Bells start clanging.

People shouting, and clapping in the streets.

It reminds me of the 7pm cheering that went on for months here.

Yes, finally. Our four-year nightmare is over. 

Biden and Harris have won.

I take a short three-block walk.

There is literally dancing in the streets.

Cheering at corners.

Drinking in celebration.

You can see the smiles underneath the masks.

I'm assuming that this guy is happy too.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

In the city.

In this great country.

The people have spoken. America, I love you.

 

the day after

 I sleep little and wake up tired. 

I turn on the TV and there's Savannah, looking fresh and sounding smart, as she has all night.  I'm exhausted and all I've been doing is watching.

Who would have ever thought the race would be so close. As of this afternoon, it's impossible to predict a winner.

And even IF there's a winner called within the next few days, there will be votes challenged, with lawyers and courts involved. 

But there is some good news.

First, the number of voters may be the highest in recent history.

There has been no intimidation at voting places. Men with guns did not show up.

And so far at least, the streets of America are quiet.

I go for a walk this morning and life looks relatively the same.

Yes, the Apple Store and many others along Madison Av. are still boarded up to prevent looters.

But the park is filled with people doing yoga.

A music class of young students.

Toddlers playing soccer.

And others just enjoying the view on this spectacular November day.

I remain optimistic and am hopeful for a Biden win.  

And like the rest of the country, all I can do now is patiently wait.

if this, then that

If you've been following the news lately (and who hasn't been), you've heard a lot of if this, then that.

IF Biden takes Florida, Georgia and NC, THEN Biden is likely the winner. And these states may even be called on election night.

IF Pennsylvania is leaning red, THEN that doesn't necessarily mean that Trump will take the state. Early voters tend to be Democrats, and Pennsylvania won't be finished counting early votes until well past election day.

IF Trump had been contrite after getting COVID, THEN his chances of winning would have improved (in my opinion). But the man just can't get out of his own way.

And IF more people looked like this, 

THEN maybe we wouldn't be seeing this.

And on a more personal note...

IF I hadn't taken a five-mile walk through Central Park this morning, 

THEN maybe I wouldn't have eaten this.