Archive for 2011
Instead of a list of things I hope to do in 2012, I’m thinking of the list of things that went so well in 2011. It really is nothing short of incredible when you start adding up all of your blessings in life. Starting small, yourself, then your partner, then your kid, then your friends, then your home, then your neighbors, then your neighborhood, then your city, then your country, then your world and it just goes on and on.
You think about those less fortunate than you are and it gives you pause. I ran into some friends last night at Swirl and we were talking about someone we love who is struggling right now through a difficult period in his life and they were saying that all they are doing right now is worrying and trying to help him. I told them Jews believe if you have too much then someone else lacks, so they were just talking about their abundant blessings and I said you have the capacity to help him and he lacks.
On a happier note, I’ve been collecting baby items for Leo, the baby that we hope is entering our community and will be the son of our friend, a mother waiting to happen. I keep thinking about Leo and it makes it easier to digest that we had to postpone our Florida trip to be on call to drive to Ohio and pick him up. We’re now just waiting for his birth. I’m hoping for the best possible outcome. Adoptions are not easy, but they are challenging and oh so rewarding.
It’s a great day to end the year – the weather right now is lovely – it’s foggy but the sun is about to come out – as it always does – and we are enjoying eating on our screen porch and the fact that it is December 31st and almost too warm. Ha!
Yesterday, Tatjana took Tin to the Quarter and someone sent us the photos from the day:
I forgot – we’re thankful for the French Quarter and all the people who photograph our beautiful son and send us the pics afterwards (these are thanks to Tom May).
In this quiet hour before the New Year, we reflect upon the meaning of our lives. As one bumper sticker said, The meaning of life is to live it. And yet I harbor within a vision of my highest self, a dream of what I could and should become. May I pursue this vision, labor to make real my dream, be who I am.
Step back away from what you have accomplished and see who you have become, step back further away and pause to reflect on the work of art that is your life.
My greatest achievement was in becoming myself. My greatest desire is to help others achieve the same.
Who knew barely after two years, I’d be driving back to the Midwest for another baby. No we are not adopting another child, but our dear friend is, and Big Blue, the same truck that took me to Tin, is taking us to Leo.
And a baby is born this season, bringing again the hope for the future. 4 cm dilated, contractions erratic, we’ll be leaving soon.
Last night, I brought up something that happened a long time ago, when I was barely 20 years old and living on Burgundy Street in the Quarter and a guy lived behind me in an old slave quarters apartment. He was fond of my high heel shoes and borrowed them all the time, and then once asked to borrow a blue sapphire and diamond ring I had, which I lent him but wanted collateral for and he offered an 18K gold watch. I still have the watch and hadn’t seen him in a very long time. Turns out most of my friends knew him, his mother, and one had actually photographed their penthouse that was in a commercial building which recently sold for the ridiculously low price of $650,000.
The universe is shrinking.
Last night, I got a free pass to go out and so I called a friend to go hear music but he was shooting Irma Thomas at the newly opened Joy Theater on Canal Street (can’t compete with that!). Then I called a friend to head over to Chickie Wah Wah with me and hear some twangy guitar music but she was at a performance. I called another friend who was on her way over to Fatoush and pretty soon I was in the company of six gal pals and having some delicious food and wine and happy I had hit the jackpot behind call number three.
The problem that happens when you don’t go out, don’t hook up with your friends often, and don’t even know what is going on, is that you are out of touch and even with a free pass to get out of the house, you’re faced with not being on anyone’s A-list and not knowing where to go. I had a lot of options to just go it solo, and while that often has an appeal to me, I made the right choice last night in finding six women I rarely get to spend time with to pass the night.
I usually end my year donating to my favorite charities, but this year, it’s not going to happen in cash. We hauled bags and bags and boxes and boxes to the Salvation Army on Tulane Avenue of clothes, shoes, jackets, purses, jewelry, furniture, toys, books and whatnots. Years of accumulating more than we need and now in the hands of a charitable organization.
I also spent hours working on a community project and have begun another community project in tandem.
This year was not about giving cash, it was about giving what we had an abundance of – resources and things.
Last night, we went to Meaux Bar to celebrate my mom’s birthday. She would have been 76 years old. She was an incredibly beautiful woman inside and out and she loved life even though sometimes it was daunting for her. She never lost that spark until the very end – the twinkle in her eyes – the mischief in her eyes. She was always narrating a life in her thoughts that was other than the one she was living at the moment – you could see it if you looked her in the eye.
Mom – we miss you.
Last night we celebrated the festival of lights by lighting the eight candles on the menorah (plus the 9th) and by having friends and food and fun and serendipitously music. The LaLa was meant for live music and this year, we felt we couldn’t afford to hire musicians and as the universe has been doing of late, it provided three talented musicians who came packing instruments and some Hanukkah songs in their repertoire – who knew?
Thank you Evan Christopher, Ben Schenck and Bob Boss (from NY) for making our Hanukkah night brighter.
I went to the gym yesterday for the first time in two months – literally.
I went to yoga today for the first time in two weeks but that was the first time in four weeks.
It’s all because of the bug, and then inertia set in, and then the bug returned, and well frankly today when my throat felt sore I just wanted to scream – ENOUGH!
So today at yoga, we talked about how the yogis came up with all these strenuous poses just so they could learn how to sit still and once we were through an hour and ten minutes of asanas, I was ready to sit still.
I’ve been grieving the loss of my young girl figure but the truth is I gave up the battle – years of exercise have resulted in not much lately – and the last two months I just said pishaw – all the work and it doesn’t get me anywhere, just running in place.
I know why that might be important enough having spent two months off and feeling like my head and body have become severed.
To fine tune the body, you must fine tune the mind, and to fine tune the mind, you must fine tune the body.
Or as the Russians say:
“You cannot milk a cow with your hands in your pockets.”
We did not watch the big game last night even though it was showing on the big screen in the Court, the cul de sac around the corner. It is not as if I am not a huge fan of the Saints, but I simply don’t watch football. Maybe that will change with a boy in the house, although from the sound of all my gal pals, it is not only a boy sport.
This morning though when I learned that Drew Brees had broken Dan Marino’s record I was damn proud of the boys yet again. (I have a handful of fav quarterbacks, Marino being one, and Montana another, but Brees, he is right up there with my all time fav.)
Once again, the Saints have reached into the deeply troubled psyche of New Orleans and have rallied us for a better day, a life of miracles, of possibilities, a fairy tale land where dreams come true.
Bless You Boys!