November 27, 2011

Thanksgiving on the Vineyard

BEAUTY: Sunset in Menemsha after Thanksgiving dinner.

and the ...


BEAST: Washed up on the beach. Walrus? Seal? Sea Urchin?



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November 21, 2011

POUND RIDGE PAST -- count down! Upcoming book signings

On Saturday, December 10, I’ll be signing books at:

Pound Ridge Community Church Holiday Bazaar
10 a.m.-1 p.m.
(3 Pound Ridge Road)

Pound Ridge Library Family Holiday Happening 1:30-2:30 p.m.
(271 Westchester Avenue)

Pound Ridge Past: Remembrances of Our Townsfolk is a collection of more than thirty interviews that share, first-hand, what life was like in a town that has been referred to as “God’s Country.” Along with historical and personal recollections spanning from the rural 1920s to the swinging 1970s, you’ll read about former Pound Ridgers and acting legends Tullulah Bankhead, Frank Morgan (“The Wizard of Oz” himself), Buster Crabbe, Shirley Jones, Eli Wallach, and Ann Jackson; writer Westbrook Pegler, radio sports announcer Howard Cosell, “Tom and Jerry” cartoonist Jack Zander, violinist and TV personality Florian ZaBach – just a few of the screen, radio, musical and literary celebrities dazzling the calm of the countryside.
The 2nd printing of POUND RIDGE PAST includes some very cool anecdotes from former Pound Ridgers from around the country who share humorous stories about Lauren Bacall, Jason Robards and Benny Goodman.
Along with coming to the book signings, you can also
order copies at PoundRidgePast.com or dash me a line at poundridgepast@gmail.com.

Merci, merci.

November 15, 2011

Don't Hate Me But ...



My wedding dress from 25 years ago fit me. All 31 handmade satin-covered buttons down the back were fastened ... some not easily, but we (and I say "we" because one of the reasons we have remained married for 25 years is that I learned using "we" is better than "I") did it!

After going in for the kill by trying to fasten the buttons all at once, within minutes my husband said (yelped?), "I need to take a break. My fingers are numb."
"Is that supposed to be funny?" I chortled (a sense of humor is also essential in a marriage.)
"I just need to get the blood running back in my fingers," he said.

Ha. Ha. Very funny.

My husband wore his wedding day bow tie. He grabbed a tuxedo jacket from the corner of his closet (even though he wore a morning suit for our wedding), and donned a crisply starched tuxedo shirt, complete with the ebony and pearl studs, and elegant patent leather dress slippers. Oh, and pants, of course. He decided to shake it up with black jeans (that he actually had worn on our first date).

Why the tizzy? For what reason would I pull the sacrosanct wedding dress from its fancy-shmancy storage box in the attic? And why would dear husband go formal with his finest?

Dearest friends and family hosted an intimate wedding party redux to celebrate our 25th happy wedding anniversary. The front steps of our hosts' house were strewn with white rose petals. As husband and I pounced over them, the door opened and the cameras started flashing. There was something absolutely wonderful and irreverent that everyone was honoring our wedding union with both seriousness and humor. I absolutely treasure them all the more for it.

The hosts had Bee Gees and Barry Manilow love songs oozing from the speakers. On the mantle, were wedding day photos of all of us 25 years ago. A mini-wedding cake was the centerpiece of the dining room table. Every detail of the gathering was a combination of love, long friendships and a wisp of hilarity.

The advice from this Mrs. is: stay in the game. Weather the storms. Make the commitment to try again and again and again (and again) to make your marriage ever better, and you, too, may have the blessing to be with the love of your life 25 years later.


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Cozy Home Gets Spooky After the Halloween Storm



At night during the "Frankenstorm" blackout on October 31st, 2011, my husband and I sat before the blazing fireplace. With no running water or electricity, we depended on hurricane lanterns to light the way from the living room to the kitchen. We had our own flashlights for reading and I discovered that wearing a pocket flashlight dangling from my ear was a handy fashion accessory. 
We drank wine, ate chocolate and, from a cranky transistor radio, listened to the repetition of the news on 880. Every hour on the 8’s, we got traffic and weather. Over and over again. And with this unexpected, unseasonal blizzard, it was as if we needed to hear the weather report more than once since it was unbelievable that only days before Halloween we were getting 16-inches of snow, howling winds, falling trees and snapped telephone poles.
Though we felt cold, wind-lashed and weary, we weren't alone. More than three million people in the Northeast, and 400,000 across New York State, were in the same boat. When New York State Electric and Gas (NYSEG) finally restored electricity days later, water and heat were restored. Andrew and I took a break from freezing and saw that outside, the fallen trees and wires on our two acres of sugar maples now looked like a sci-fi movie.  
As it turned out, inside our house was not much better: it looked like my son’s fraternity. Empty wine bottles lined the mantle of the fireplace because Andrew and I were too lazy and cold to bring them alllllll the way from in front of the fireplace to the freezing kitchen. 
Furniture from all corners of the living room were now clustered in closer for warmth by the fire. Dishes from days and days were scattered all over the kitchen counters. The sink was piled with mucky coffee mugs from the Saturday of the storm. Still on the stove was a half-finished macaroni and cheese casserole (which had not one iota of decay since the house was like a freezer for three days.)
On Sunday afternoon, I thought myself near-genious to throw a frying pan on top of the fire to cook scrambled eggs. Skewing raw potatoes, wrapping them in aluminum foil and cooking them on the embers seemed like a great idea, too. 
Not so on Tuesday night when the electricity finally came on and I could see in the light that I had destroyed the pan. The skewers, which we had cast aside next to the fireplace—didn’t bother putting in the sink—were now a crusty mess.
Along with the bliss of hearing the washing machine whirl when the electricity turned on, loading the dishwasher became a long-lost thrill. While happily loading it with dishes, I came across a piece of something hard lying on the counter. I picked it up and turned it over to get a better look. What could it possibly be? 
 Wait … was that the cheese I had served on Sunday night? Why yes! It was!
During the blackout, there was no television. No computer. No iPhone, iPod or iPad, tweeting or Twitter. It was relaxing to be out of touch and not answer email or check Facebook. It was liberating not worrying that my house looked like a Delta Chi fraternity the morning-after, and refreshing not to feel guilty about being untidy. We weren’t even worried about laundry piling up. (Actually, with or without electricity, I never worry about that.) 
For just a few days, nothing mattered but the basics: food, shelter, warmth … and having enough chocolate to weather the storm.
 
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November 6, 2011

A Wedding Dress & Matron Hipness


My husband and I are about to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary on November 9th. Here's the thing ... close friends are hosting a Sunday afternoon champagne gathering in our honor and the dress code is: "Wear your wedding dress."

Mine has been dry cleaned, swathed in tissue paper and practically vacuum packed since November 10, 1986. I went up to the attic to carefully remove it from the box, unbuttoned the 31 buttons down the back, took a (very) deep breath and slipped it on. Dang. It almost/almost fits. Bearing two children and putting on 10 lbs. since my wedding day has made my trunk more matronly. If I could just fasten the last 10 buttons, but they hit right above the hips that once housed two babies.

Should I tie a satin scarf around my midriff to cover the gap in the back? Or invert a white satin blouse and tie the arms in a bow?

I think I will embrace that I can even get the wedding dress on, and be thankful for my life: 25 years of marriage to the love of my life, two fanastic/happy children, and a beautiful home that we call "The Brodnick Love Shack."

My alternative fashion option for the anniversary fete will be a white satin blouse and black velvet pants. For bridal mode, I'll slip on my Suzanne Daché wedding veil ... and if that doesn't fit, I'm really in trouble.



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