Oh To Be A Singer

I have lots of dreams and fantasies that go along with my over-active imagination. But if I had to pick one dream that stands at the top of my list it would be to be a singer with a really great voice who could belt out a song to an audience of listeners and touch them in some way. Remember how you felt when you heard Whitney Huston sing the National Anthem... I know I was blown away with emotion. Or more recently I saw Van Morrison in concert... we took our two middle children who are fans, and they were completely overwhelmed. Though his voice isn't the best voice I ever heard there is a distinctiveness and a confidence that is beyond compare. How great to share such a talent! I know when I get feeling a little blue, I will put on the music and dance, and I can dance pretty well. But when I have some free time and I feel pretty good about myself, I will put on the music and sing at the top of my lungs. I was told years ago (by a music teacher) that I only have a range of three good notes and that was a big blow to my ego because I loved singing in the chorus. She told me I would do better if I sang with the boys as my voice was so low. It made me mad and I often would sing the soprano parts falsetto... just because I wanted to feel like a girl with a pretty voice. I kept on singing in the privacy of my room, or in the car by myself, and as long as I was singing in a lower register, I thought I sounded pretty good. There would be no singing in public and definitely no acapella songs either... without an artist behind me I don't think I could find the notes. So today I will again share a video of me singing in my low, slightly off key voice... just because I can and I'm content to pretend I'm a singer. Maybe you can get a little chuckle off it and that would make me happy.

How to Iron An Oxford Button Down Shirt

I know to some it might seem very elementary, however there is a certain knack to ironing a man's button down shirt... especially if it is not the wrinkle free kind that just requires a quick hang up after coming out of the dryer. If you're kinda absent-minded like me, you rarely catch those beauties in time and they will require a pressing too. First it helps to have a good solid iron with a pronounced point... I use the Rowenta Focus, a sturdy German made model of excellent design. This has both a steam blast button and a spritz button to ward off those stubborn wrinkles... especially the ones you create when your not being careful. I keep a small bathroom cup handy to fill the water chamber (it's best to use distilled water) and find that one little cupful will iron a pair of men's cotton pants or two button down shirts. First, make sure all the buttons are unbuttoned and then start with the collar opened and flat and steam blast front and back. Then pull the shoulder of the sleeve over the tapered end of the ironing board and iron the front and back of shirt up to the shoulder seam. Next, I smooth down the full length of the sleeve and carefully iron front and back with a crease opposite of the inner seam. Iron the cuffs closed but unbuttoned... front and back. Repeat the opposite side of the shirt and sleeve as above. Arrange the front of the shirt parallel with the tapered end of the board and smooth the surface with your hands first. Start with the buttoned edge (if your right handed) by gently pushing the point of the iron into each space between the buttons. Then in long sweeping stokes go down the length of the shirts front. Rearrange the shirt to iron the sides using the point toward the seam and keep rotating the shirt when each section is completed. Use care around the back pleat of the shirt, doing the center of the pleat first and then on either side will prevent unwanted creases. Carefully rotate and smooth the shirt, and then iron until you get to the button-holed front. One slow sweep along the buttonholes is usually good enough. Lastly, I fold down the collar and iron the points down flat, then place the creased back of the collar over the taped end of the board and iron this flat as well. Place the shirt carefully on a hanger and hang on a door hook. Then re-button the collar points and the top button. Make sure the shoulders are properly hung over the shoulders of the hanger. Place in the closet with plenty of room between the shirts so all your effort isn't wasted... no cramming. Enjoy the beauty of those shirts hanging so smoothly and know that with the effort that it takes to perform this task, you've saved yourself a bunch of coin.

When Sorry Just Doesn't Cut It Anymore

There is nothing so heart warming as a sincere apology delivered after an honest human error. We have all rendered them from time to time and hopefully have received our share in due measure... it's the first step of forgiveness. But there comes a time when "sorry" becomes just another weary word, uttered in the same breath as an absent-minded "excuse me." Too often we become habitual offenders of insensitive words, actions, or behaviors that we inflict on those most willing to accept the inevitable apology. Mistakes are a given in the human condition, but repetition of the same mistakes over and over wear down the defenses of even the most saintly of forgivers and over time will erode all trust, and eventually all love. With each repeated "sorry" delivered there comes either the loss of conviction that what you did was really wrong, or the escalation of related dramatics where the forgiver suddenly becomes the apologizer. Either way it's a losing game brought about by those who are not aware enough to learn from their mistakes and correct them. That face to face realization with the self often comes after the irreparable damage is already done, and then the only one who is really sorry is the perpetrator who has ultimately lost his/her game.

Treasures on the Beach

Yesterday we had the the last Open House of the year. After a week of scrubbing, a morning of making homemade cookies (oatmeal scotchies), and setting up the brochures for potential house buyers, we took off for a day at the beach, or as we say in New Jersey, "Down the Shore."

It was a warm day, 73 degrees and the filtered sun brightened the cloud filled sky to an opalescent splendor. This is my favorite time of year to visit the beach as their are no crowds and I can usually get some pretty good beach photos without the sea of oil slicked bodies getting in the way. At first as we walked up the boardwalk, we saw sand that must of washed up from the recent storm and surrounded the park benches on the edge of the boardwalk. It was funny to see small children playing with pails and buckets on the boardwalk instead of the beach. There were several couples who passed us by and they seemed as curious as we were to see a large swath of the beach covered with flocks of seagulls who sat like summertime sun-bathers. After a nice stretch of the legs we went to Jenkinson's Pavillion where we had a lunch of pizza and soda and wondered why there were no seafood items on the winter menu board. Then we headed to the beach where Gerry took off his sandals and proceeded to get his shorts wet while checking the ocean temperature which was cold but not bone chilling. I got right to work exploring the sand for unusual items of my own curious interest. The waves although not gigantic, were bigger than usual and the churn of the recent storm caused big tufts of soapy looking foam to cling in patches to the shoreline. The bubbles glistened brilliantly in the sun! I found a piece of triangular wood with a big splinter pointing out from it. It had just washed up from the sea and was covered with the foamy bubbles. There were feathers and leaves sitting side by side, and collages of debris that were so artfully arranged by Nature that upon seeing the photos at home, Gerry playfully accused me of arranging the shoot... as if! I got excited by a few sparse patches of Kelly green algae with glistening bubbles and odd pieces of bamboo that I had not seen on this beach before but my favorite find was a shell with a butterfly cut-out. On the ride home the sun came out to set on the remaining trees that have held their glowing Autumn color beyond peak season and I was silenced by the beauty of the day and the happy sounds from the radio. Unbeknownst to me, as I was snapping photos on the beach, Gerry was collecting his own treasures for me... treasure more precious than jewels... fragments of colored sea glass that I shall keep in a jar by the windowsill!

A Poor Me Day

Do you ever get one of those days when nothing is really wrong but you feel sad, lonely, and utterly useless. Maybe it's my age, or this new onset of insomnia... or just maybe I always felt this way and just never admitted it to myself. God, forbid anyone should tag you as a "poor me"... a really horrible insult... and so you force yourself to shake it off and get cheerful and stuff those hidden insecurities away in the glovebox and go about your business. TV makes the hidden feelings worse, as you see all the beautiful and successful people getting accolades for all their many talents, when you sit there in the realization that you don't even have one damned thing that you excel at. Athletes are suddenly best dancers, actors become best selling authors, and even cooks get talk shows and meet all the famous people. Doesn't seem fair that most of us shlubs have spent years trying to find a niche where we can say with certainty..."yes, I've successfully arrived," only to find that you've arrived at the door of the Ordinary Hall of Non-fame and your best years are behind you. Maybe it's because we grew up believing parents who promised that we could be anything we wanted and challenged us to "be somebody." On the other hand you might have had parents who spew negativity saying, "you'll never amount to much, get over yourself." In either case there comes a time when you have to admit to dreams that never came true, and probably never will, and say "WTF... not fair... poor me." So today I say that out loud to myself, no shame, no apology... just an honest sentiment that got tired of hiding.

Happy Housecleaning

Oh we have our final open house coming up this weekend... at least for this year. As always, it means a week of extreme housecleaning and yet I found some happy ways to perform these mundane tasks. I begin by putting on some loud happy music and old clothes. Most of my living room furniture is gone and so in order to polish up the parquet floors, I might play Huey Lewis and the News and spray a little pledge on my socks and dance and twirl around the floor to the beat of the music. A little pledge on the old sleeves and I can swipe away dust on the piano, computer table, and bookshelves as I dance and sing to gain momentum. Hand scrubbing floors needs a little more angst driven elbow grease and so I might blast Green Day as I get down to business of the scrub. When it comes to taking down curtains and washing the windows I need a little more concentration and so the music comes down a peg... perhaps a little psychedelic sound of Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. I'm new to their music and so I listen to the lyrics as I climb on stools to remove dusty curtains and clean the windows... my singing gets carried away and so I reserve the singing songs for when I'm grounded and not tettering on the kitchen stools. I hate vacuuming most of all and I need to hear the voice of Bono at full volume to get through with this most odious of chores. Luckily I only have area rugs, as I would probably go deaf if I had to vacuum wall to wall at this volume. For closet and cabinet cleaning I usually go old school... very old school... with Tommy Roe, the heart throb of my childhood. I know all the words by heart and can still his old bubble gum songs even though my voice has deepened with age. I can forget about singing with Petula Clark even though I could as a kid. As I perform the chores to my happy music the time flies, I get a work-out, and also exercise the lungs as I shout out my songs. Who knew housework could be so fun! I'm just glad no one can see my antics or hear my voice as they'd probably think me insane... like Otis, my bunny who hides when I get in this groove.

A Birthday for Beauty

Yesterday was a balmy 67 degrees and I pent most of the day just sitting on the front porch enjoying the sunny day and watching the leaves fall. I kept thinking about that wonderful day 31 years ago when my daughter Tara (nicknamed beauty) was born. I remembered both the joy of holding her for the first times and the trepidation of caring for a real live baby. I wonder how she will feel when her own daughter Annabelle is born this month? She looks wonderful and is feeling much better this past month. She came for her birthday dinner yesterday with hubby Chris and Lily and Betty and bother Dale came too. It was mayhem for poor Otis as the snuffling bull-dogs traipsed around the house and tried not to get too close to my bunny. They have both been attacked by Otis and I think they think that he is just a silly cat, but Otis was on high alert watching their every move and standing his ground when it was carrot time in the kitchen. Gerry made a real homey feast of roast chicken, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy. I made a salad, cooked the broccoli, and earlier in the day made Tara her favorite poppy seed cake. I told her this would be the last time we would light candles and sing to her now that a baby is coming and she said, "Good, I'm too old for that anyway." Gerry and Chris were watching the Giants lose ( and Chris even stayed calm about it) while Tara and Dale were watching funny SNL clips on the computer. I got to hang out with my grandoggies and spoil them with small pieces of chicken giblets and lots of head pats and coos. It was a nice evening and made me even more excited to think about becoming a real grandma.

The Aftermath

Weddings are never a single day event in my family and Erica and Davey's wedding was no exception. The whole family stayed overnight at the Radisson and the next day we all seemed to meet in the hall several hours before check-out. My sister Bonnie and her husband Mike were up from Florida and were leaving to go their daughter Kelly's house and begin preparations for the "after party" as they like to call it. We headed home after stopping for coffee at a quick check... a little crunchy but feeling pretty good in spite of the minor dehydration. Once home we met up with Gerry's son Colin who flew in for the wedding from his new home in San Diego. Gerry whipped up pork-roll egg and cheese sandwiches, which is the best breakfast after a night of drinking. I gave my bunny Otis plenty of attention, as I felt guilty leaving him alone overnight. We make a quick stop to the store to buy the Halloween candy, a chore that I neglected in all the excitement of the wedding, and also picked up a cheesecake platter to take to the after party. Gerry's tux was returned and then after returning home we sat on the porch and gave candy bars to the trick or treaters. At 4:00 it was time to go to Kelly's house and so we put three bags of candy in a bowl, left the porch light on, headed one town over to the party. Mike is a retired chef who started a catering business with his daughter Krystal and they were cooking up a storm. The table was set with a carved pumpkin that had guacamole, sour cream, and salsa cascading out of the mouth (a puking pumpkin) along with chips for dipping. There was cheese and crackers and deviled eggs that were decorated with spiders made from black olives. Krystal made a hot crab dip that was to die for and served it with deep fried wonton chips. Mike's sister-in-law Frannie was sporting a Santa costume in the spirit of Halloween and the fun and merriment continued with about 30 invited guests. The rain didn't dampen anyone's spirits although we were planning on eating on her deck, but tables were brought inside and there were plenty of chairs to go around for a sit down meal. Mike cooked two huge prime ribs with au jus and a horseradish sauce. He baked potatoes on the grill and served them with sour cream, bacon, chives and grated cheddar. There was sauteed broccoli and garlic cooked tender crisp to perfection and a big Caesar salad. It was another night of feasting and laughing. The dessert spread was like a Viennese table... carrot cake, almond cinnamon cake, a chocolate cheesecake platter, a homemade cheesecake with cherry topping, brownies, and white cake with cherry filling. There was plenty of food for leftovers and everyone took home extra dessert. I hate to think of all the calories consumed this wedding weekend, but it was all so fabulous and so I won't.

The Reception

After the wedding ceremony, we checked into the Radisson Hotel to wait for the shuttle bus that would take us to the reception hall. We had three hours to kill while the wedding party took pictures on the grounds of the South Gate Manor. It would have been nice to take a nap, but since we were already dressed up, we strolled down to the hotel bar for a couple of drinks. There we met up with some of Colin's friends who graciously bought our round and also shared their nacho platter. I met the parents of one of my son's friends, who I used to babysit for when we were kids growing up in our old neighborhood. As I kid, four years seems a whole generation apart but here we were as peers, laughing about the antics of our own grown children. The shuttle bus driver gave us quite a ride to the reception hall, as he made funny jokes, blared disco music and drove like a bat out of hell. We pulled into the South Gate Manor to the sight of twinkling rainbow lights on the trees. Once inside, we marveled at the opulence of the hall... it was exquisite! After a quick gathering of the immediate families for group photos, we entered the cocktail hour reception and were stunned. The room was huge, with a ceiling that was covered with twinkling stars. There was the usual bar and also a separate martini and vodka bar. The waitstaff circulated trays of various hors d' ouvres and there was also a raw bar and a sushi bar along with a lavish fruit, meat, and cheese display. The room opened onto a terrace where their were lounge chairs and ashtrays for those who wished to smoke. The night was balmy and so many of us were content to enjoy the cool night air in the elegant surroundings. After about an hour of drinking and feasting we were all lead to the ballroom which was equally exquisite and sported the biggest dance floor I had ever seen... it was a good thing too as this was a big dancing crowd. The bridal party strolled in to what seemed like heavy metal music and then the newlyweds danced to a slow cool song by Sade. The father-daughter dance was to one of Gerry's favorites, "Green Mansions" by Van Morrison and the two of them shared their joy with happy laughter and a couple of fancy twirls. Once the dance floor opened to the guests, Gerry and I headed out and danced to "Unforgettable" and within minutes the floor was crowded with slow dancers from all ages. The best man's toast to the bride and groom was one of the most heartfelt and funniest speeches I had ever heard given at a wedding... but then again this wedding had a huge assortment of the" kids" that we had watched grow up together and still remained a close knit group. The DJ played nice slow music during the dinner hour, where people were invited to three different stations of food. One was a pasta station with eggplant rolatini, tortellini alfredo, and various other Italian dishes. Then in another corner was a carving station with boneless pork roast, roast beef, and turkey, along with mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans. And in the third corner there was a whole seafood display that I never got to see, as dancing is more important to me than eating, and I was full from the cocktail hour! Once an acceptable amount of time passed for dinner music and dining, the DJ cranked up the music and kept a full crowded dance floor singing and dancing right up to the very end of the night. Of course you could see some grimacing from some of the older folks as the rock and roll and club music blared. But this is the music of the young generation and it is wonderfully easy to dance to. At one point my daughter Tara's husband led the whole dance floor of guests in a choreographed dance to Thriller (after all it was mischief night) and he did a super job of both teaching the steps and keeping everyone in step. Tara, who is eight months pregnant danced most of the night in her bare feet, and my son Dale and Gerry's son Colin made sure every woman who was alone or with a non-dancing partner got their chance on the dance floor. It was so sweet of them and made Gerry and I very proud! There was the traditional feeding of the cake by the bride and groom and I think the older folks were glad of the reprieve from the loud music. I couldn't tell you what kind of cake it was (I don't eat desserts) but it was decorated for Halloween and everyone said it was delicious. At the end of the night the shuttle buses safely took the guests back to the hotel where the partying continued into the wee hours of the morning. It was quite a wedding to remember and everyone had a wonderful time!

The Wedding

It was an overcast October day, just slightly past peak leaf season as the golden and browns replaced the peach and orange leafing of the week prior. Dad was in his tux and step-mom in her black velvet cape... the one that I save for my most important ceremonies. We drove to the old stone church, and as usual, were the first ones in attendance. We waited in the back until the wedding party males arrived to seat the guests. The limo driver rearranged Gerry's boutonniere as I certainly didn't know what side it belonged on, and crudely pinned it on for him in the parking lot. Then the driver got the emergency kit to wipe away the stray crumbles of pollen on his lapel. I was escorted by my handsome son Dale to my place in the church and waited for the procession. The music swelled and all eyes watched as the beautiful bridal party sashayed down the aisle. My daughter Tara was radiant as the pregnant matron of honor, with her red hair, brown eyes and little pot belly. Then came the trumpeting and we all stood as daughter Erica and dad Gerry strolled up the aisle. From my view I couldn't tell if they were laughing or weeping, but the smiles were evident and both pairs of green eyes were radiant. She looked beautiful, and he as handsome as ever. Her husband Davey winked at her as she approached, as his sign of appreciation. They exchanged their vows with the smiling stares of two people in love and the dad gave his daughter away with the phrase, "The Dad Abides." He then came and took his seat with me. Gerry's sister Ellen did a reading from the Bible (Genesis 2nd chapter, I think) and did a wonderful job considering she was recently widowed, and it must have been hard not to think of her own wedding just 14 years prior. The Presbyterian pastor gave a warm and brief blessing, and rings and kisses were exchanged. There was applause and then the orderly exit of the the paired bridal party. After the congratulatory greeting line for the the bride and groom, there were more immediate family and bridal party photos in the church. I waited outside admiring the cool breeze and fast moving gray clouds that would give way to a brief slanting of sunshine. As the wind blew my cape around my ankles and the leaves danced on the pavement for me, I was thankful that the big day finally arrived and all was perfect as planned.

A Wedding Rehearsal Dinner

The official festivities for Erica and Davey's wedding began on Thursday night. The wedding party and their guests, along with parents and grandparents were treated to a wonderful dinner at Girasole Restaurant in Bound Brook. Everyone dressed up a bit as this is a pretty upscale Italian Restaurant. The first course was set on the table family style. There was fried calamari with marinara sauce, bruschetta, sauteed mushrooms, clams casino, and roasted peppers and fresh mozzarella. Wine or beer was served and there was warm bread and oil on the table. The waiters were attentive, even folding napkins as people got up between courses to mingle. Next came a nice salad of mesclun greens, olives, cheese and a savory vinaigrette. For the main course we were given the choice of three entrees to choose from. The first was a herb encrusted salmon, the second was veal medallions and shrimp in a wine sauce, and the third was a rack of lamb served around a ricotta and basil stuffed tomato. There was plenty of sharing and sampling going on... after all we're all family. My lovely daughter Tara read a beautiful tribute to Erica and Davey which included many of the childhood recollections she shared with Erica, as well as their differing viewpoints. It was heartfelt and cleverly offered the new couple insight for their life from lessons she had learned from her younger sister Erica (who was moved to tears). Then the coffee was served and out came trays of assorted dessert offerings. There were cannolis, tiramisu, dark chocolate mousse cake, and perhaps carrot cake (since I'm not a big fan of dessert food , I can't be too sure). There was plenty of food and many stories to share and everyone completely enjoyed themselves. It's not often we get to sit and enjoy a three hour meal with no fuss and no muss!