Griping in the Steam Room

The other day I was in a mentholated steam sauna. Another person swathed in a white towel soon followed after me and took a seat on the white tiles. As the steam blasted, the air got foggier and thicker with eucalyptus mist.

While I tried to focus  a c u t e l y  on relaxing, the person across from me swore for the entire
10 minutes that she was in the steam room.

"*#!%#?*!! I hate this. Why am I here?" GROAN. "This mentholated air stings my eyes. Uggh ... I can't stand it. *#!%#?*!! What do people like about this?"

AS IF.

Point being:  Stop complaining. It's annoying ... especially in a steam room setting. If the mist is too hot, get the *#!%#?*!! out.

Peace.

Beguilingly Stunning, Exquisitely Crafted & Crackling with Wit

Many thanks to Pound Ridge Authors Society for sharing this audacious, hilariously spell-binding, crispy orgiastic, superbly poignant, spell-binding yet spare, blog by Katy Waldman.

Click here (or see below) for a giggle, guffaw, chuckle or laugh-out-loud look at blurbs used to describe the works of National Book Award nominees.

National Book AwardsJesse Ball, A Cure for Suicide

Jesse Ball, A Cure for Suicide

beguiling 

elegant, spellbinding

subtle and breathtaking

magnetic, suspenseful, occasionally heart-rending

full, satiating

richly adorned with sensuous scenes

Karen E. Bender, Refund

fine, crisp

crackling with energy and wit

vivid, believable

poignant, absorbing

superb

both lean and expansive

absolutely masterful

Bill Clegg, Did You Ever Have a Family

brilliantly constructed

propulsive but tightly crafted

polished, quietly captivating

delicately lyrical and emotionally direct

ineffably sad and deeply inspiring

mesmerizing

wondrous

deeply optimistic…brutally direct

restrained, exquisite, and unexpectedly tender

Angela Flournoy, The Turner House

epic, ambitious, and strikingly executed

cracklingly alive

utterly unsentimental

spare, headstrong

utterly moving and tough as nails

commanding and unputdownable

charming and funny while being whip-smart and profound

Lauren Groff, Fates and Furies

sumptuous

red-hot

surprising, wild, with pockets of calm that build anticipation for the next squall

audacious and gorgeous

deliciously voyeuristic but also wise on the simultaneous comforts and indignities of romantic partnership

Complex, sexy and achingly beautiful

almost-wizardly

lithe and poetic, unrolling like a glimmering carpet to the gray and uncertain territory of her characters’ inner conflicts

Adam Johnson, Fortune Smiles

weird, indelible

audacious

perceptive and brave

long, fearless

rigorously limber

wise, poignant and important

superb ... explosive

alive and limitless

slightly surreal

sinewy

T. Geronimo Johnson, Welcome to Braggsville

oh-my-God-listen-up

even tragic, in the most classic meaning of the word

amusing…unpredictable

madcap, satirical

profane

uncanny

deeply pleasurable

deeply disturbing

ghastly

thoroughgoing and extreme

orgiastic

Edith Pearlman, Honeydew

vinegary

acidic

droll

set down like a light footprint that nevertheless fixes itself in one's memory as though pressed in wet cement

tender and distant

like entering the jet stream of some stranger's life

wise, yes, but also unfailingly generous

refreshingly loose

intricately imagined

warmly imagined 

Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life

surprisingly subversive

elemental, irreducible, dark, and disturbing

frequently stomach-churning

shrewd

wondrous

harrowing

stunning

audacious

audacious

audacious

audacious

Nell Zink, Mislaid

giddy, lunatic, perverse, and irresistible

penetrating and agile

lucid

sly, low-affect

as absurd and hilarious as it is tragic and seeing

hilarious and genius

refreshingly eccentric

wickedly humorous

beautifully braided into understated prose

outlandish

zany

zany-brainy

Katy Waldman is Slate’s words correspondent. 

UGG

A source of major solace during the cold weather months is coming home and slipping my frozen feet into my beloved UGGs. Tonight's temperature is 53-degrees. It is the chilliest night for weeks and I fear the weather has changed from summer to autumn in the past 24 hours.

Where did I pack my UGGs last winter when we moved? Are they in the box with mittens and gloves, socks and stockings, boots and shoes? Uggggh. And argggghhhh.

I will search tirelessly until my toujours favorite slippers swath my feet, once again, in the lusciousness and bliss of their twinface sheepskin.

UGG, I wuv u.

Buster Brown Shoes (Arf, Arf!)

An old friend of mine touched base on Facebook and asked ... "Does anyone remember getting a new pair of shoes for first day of school?"

Hell, yeah!! For eons, my father was an exec with Brown Shoe Company in St. Louis. (They even named a sporty shoe after him called "The Kogey.") In our household, it was boo-hiss on Stride Rite shoes.

When I was in first grade, my foot happened to have been "model size." In lay terms that means that shoe samples were in my size!! This lucky turn, at age 7, bequeathed me with a bounty of shoes that lined up nicely on the floor of my closet. I had:

* Red pigskin-leather loafers.
* Leather loafers with a kilt on the vamp.
* Green leather loafers.
* Brown leather loafer-style shoes with a buckled strap.
Black leather ties.
 ... and their twin for later in the week: blue leather ties.
Black patent Maryjanes.
White patent Maryjanes.
Blue leather Maryjanes.
Black/white saddle shoes.
Brown/white saddle shoes.

          * And might I add ... "slip-ons" at the time were considered trashy. We won't even touch the subject of Zorries.

Who didn't have this adorable T-strap sandal for summer? (I had them in red, blue, and natural leather.)

My father, David Kogen, also had an amazing Buster Brown collection and my childhood was festooned with lamps, old cartoons, watches, prints, rugs, buttons, advertisements, posters and more with this colorful insignia:

Does your shoe have a boy inside? (What a funny place for a boy to hide.)
Does your shoe have a dog there, too?  (A boy and a dog and a foot in the shoe.)

Buster Brown and his dog, Tige, reigned mighty in my Maplewood childhood. Click here for the kitschy and catchy 34-second jingle that is burnished in my memory. This, along with my father (and very stylish mother) kindled my forever-love for shoes. I'm a full-believer in the phrase, "You can always tell a person by the shoes they wear."

In our next chapter, we will discuss the importance of wearing polished shoes and what it means if the tips and heals are scuffed. Not good.

Hark! Hark! It's Hydrangea Harvest Time!

Catch them while they are still hanging in there.  This winter, your dried hydrangea arrangement will bring back memories of summer 2015 ... and this glorious spell of beautiful weather.

Click here for the hows and whats of harvesting hydrangea.

Friday, September 11, 2015

Take a moment to honor those who lost their lives on September 11, 2001.

Empty Nest, New Beginnings

To all of those experiencing a quiet house after dropping off your progeny at college, click here for my Huffington Post, "Empty Nest, New Beginnings."

Although you might not have an immediate house-wide celebration, be patient. After 18 years of raising your child, it's natural to take some time before you appreciate not having to worry about their post-party driving. Bid adieu to the feeling of guilt that the refrigerator is running on low. Adios to nagging about deadlines and homework. Take a back seat. (Helicopter parents, note: it doesn't do your child well to hover too closely.)

There is something liberating about not shopping for dinner and feeling the angst of "What should we eat tonight?" No more worrying, "Did they not make their bed in the morning?" Feh. "Do I care if they're late for class?" Meh.

On one of our first nights as empty nesters, for dinner, my husband and I feasted on two cocktails. And a bowl of peanuts (for protein.)

Full disclosure? It was grand.

With Labor Day, Summer Wanes ... Say It Ain't So

Here was my Labor Day weekend ... one of the best of the summer:

 Aperol Spritz with friends on the patio.

 Brunch with my beautiful Mom.

Boating with friends on Lilly-No-No Lake.

One last dance to the Bee Gees "How Deep Is Your Love" before putting away these honkin' white shoes for the season. 

Very, Very, Very ... Don't Go There

I'm afraid to say this is "very" funny so will just leave it as, "This is solemnly brilliant."