May Daze

parts of an email to a friend:

Wondering if you're in Israel.  It's sad to hear about more violence there, although not unexpected.  If there, hope you're far from the madding crowd and have a little time to yourself to wander and observe. I like the term "Arab Spring" and all that it connotes.

 

(Correspondence about Patti Smith's "Just Kids" and Robert Mapplethorpe as a cult figure.)
Funny thing about "charismatic" or "iconic" figures.  Often they first see themselves that way and then find others to perpetuate their"vision."  From what I've read and know, Mapplethorpe had a personal aura that transcended his talent which eventually got confused with it.  (I've met those people; it's intoxicating and leaves a hangover of epic proportion.)

Sort of like Jonathan Larsen of RENT fame.  Of whom Sam Shepard said to me when we were doing BURIED CHILD, "Maybe if I off myself, this will be a big hit."  btw, Sam is pretty charismatic himself although observing his penchant for young blonds of any kind was definitely a legend-breaker for me.

Sam, assistant director Michael Unger and director Gary Sinise

 from our Broadway production

I don't know if I ever told you one of my favorite moments in that show (to which all of the "in-crowd came, JFK Jr on roller blades, Brad & Gwenyth, Bruce & Demi in a cloud of marijuana smoke stepping out the limo).  But Gary Sinise was doing the film "Ransom" with Mel Gibson at the time
and Mel came.  At the very serious moment at show's end when Terry Kinney was carrying the disinterred muddy corpse of the eponymous baby across the stage, there were a serious of loud guffaws from the otherwise deadly silent orchestra.  Mel.  It was just Mel.

Got some more flowers and herbs and dug a patch for a tomato garden with early girls,
roma, grapes and some heirlooms - German and yellow striped and red.  Enjoyed our lilacs in full bloom (putting me in mind of Whitman's "When lilacs last in the dooryard bloomed."

my lilacs

So, back to my small cave and small and big traumas tomorrow.  Didn't read enough - finished the MacDougal (worth a skim since you're such a runner) and some mags.  Musically, give Robbie Robertson's a listen.  I also caught up on the first three episodes of Season Two of Treme.
Such a fine show...it takes real attention and commitment.  And, oh, the music.  You would find it worth your time, I think, although it's valuable to get through Season One for the rewards of Season Two.

No nibbles on selling the house; that's why I'm doing the gardening stuff.  Even if it sold tomorrow (and it won't), we'll have the summer here.

Fab that Book of Mormon is a really big, fat hit...virtually sold out til April 2012, but they have Ken there Tues - Sun from 10am - 1pm (commute included).  So, I'm hoping we can find someone to help with the spring clean-up, mulching, etc.  I simply don't have enough time.

Simple eating.  A sausage and savoy cabbage pasta.  In the slow cooker, some pork tenderloin with rhubarb, shallots, herbs, white wine..to be served with polenta.  And planning on that great raw kale salad with avocado and grape tomatoes (first rate virgin olive oil and balsamic
are key). Tonight perfected scallops provencal.  This after a return to Clinic.  Clients imprisoned, hospitalized and overall either needy, resistant or just clueless.

Food motivates, enhances, sustains.  So do music, flowers, words and friends.  And dogs.

Happy Mother's Day

I'm planning to get the photo album of my childhood home from my brother and share some of those here.  It was an amazing house.

In the meantime, how about these two pictures of my maternal line?  The first is my grandmother Julia Moshinsky Grabowski, taken in Poland in 1914 when she was 16 years old.

Julia was always on the go.  Sewing.  Cooking.  Making pierogis at the Polish Catholic Church.  She lived with my aunt Esther and helped raise my cousins Paula and Pam. Her apple butter pancakes live in a Proustian dimension.  In her 60's, she went back to Poland, rode on horse-drawn wagons and saw her remaining relatives.  She brought me a beautifully embroidered peasant blouse that was one of my treasured wardrobe items in the late 60's, early 70's and even beyond.  She remembered every single child's, grandchild's and great-grandchild's birthday with a card and some cash carefully tucked in.  I wear the diamond stud earrings that she left me with love and pride.

And then there's my mom, Valerie Cecilia Grabowksi Lightstone.  The middle daughter of three.  A woman of beauty, style, humor and high aspirations for both of her children.  I always was sure of her love, sometimes a little too much.  She gave me the vision to look beyond even while wanting me close.  But, so much of what I am today I owe to her.  (Even in some of the choices I've made in direct opposition to hers!)

Both of these women were with me today as I went about my Sunday and celebrated Mother's Day.

From the Lobster Eggs Benedict I chose for lunch, to the hard work weeding and planting in the garden, to having a good and loving conversation and a couple cheap laughs with Eli, to the phone call with Zeb; and his cards, one that complemented my style (a paisley shirt he reclaimed) and the other laced with ironic humor and love, to the asparagus and mushroom risotto whipped up for dinner, to the nice dry vodka martini that's next on my agenda....they live in me as I did in them.

This one's for you, Mom.

 Anything Goes

Que sera sera

btw, my French tutor had never heard this expression.

Cleaned out closets, drawers, medicine cabinets on Saturday and early Sunday.

But the weather was so grand that I dashed to my favorite garden store/nursery
and bought my herbs, a vivid red hibiscus and rustic pot, a basket of charming Johnny
Jump Ups.

A neighbor gave me baby spinach plants and I'll go back for tender lettuces and the window box hanging petunias that define and enhance our little cape.

Even if the house sells, we'll have most of the summer here so let's make the most of
it.

In my spare time, couldn't resist buying this.

And here's quite an easy and tasty dinner recipe.  Just add some truffle oil.  And if you spill the French grey sea salt all over the kitchen floor, it's not at all being like in Cape Ferret (not that I've been there...but I'm guessing).

http://www.realsimple.com/food-recipes/browse-all-recipes/smoky-braised-chicken-gnocchi-10000001692747/index.html?xid=dailyrecnews-05-01-2011?xid=dailyrecnews-05-01-2011

Oh yes.. Ken and I had our weekly 3 hours of being home at the same time not late at night or early in the morning and agreed that we won't sell short.  At least not yet.