Bonni Brodnick Blog

#EmptyWalls In the snap of a finger, a sense of home is gone. Spun in bubble wrap or scrunched in newspaper. Shadows of life within these walls. A glimmer of light for tomorrow.

Let's face it ... moving is a bee-yatch . Today's task included throwing out more love letters from ancient beaux ( why did I hold on to these for so long?) and spending way too much time reading old journals. Another time-stopper was looking through old photos, taking a shot of them with my phone and sending them to friends, "Look! Remember?! Adorable or what?" Also packed lots of boxes of give-aways with twin-bed bedding, oil paintings from art school (again, why??) and books, books, books.We are making headway in the barn. Closets inside are looking bare. I was thrilled to bequeath rakes and a tiny grill to a great friend. We were invited to a Memorial Day BBQ and loved giving some antique plates to my cousin. Tossed ancient wicker into the dumpster. (One of the chairs barely made it through a cocktail party last summer, so it was truly time to go.) This is a photo of one of the chairs in its glory days. Keep. Things. Moving. Along. Keep. ...

On this Memorial Day, remember those who served our country in the name of freedom.  My uncle died in the last battle of Okinawa and is buried in The National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, along with 13,000 soldiers, not far from where Annie lives in Oahu.  I honor Uncle Stanley and all the men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice. If you see someone in uniform, either walking down the street or standing guard at Grand Central, be sure to take a second to thank them for their service to our country.

I was just reading an old "Talk of the Town" column I wrote and found this wonderful quote from  Lisl Steiner , one of my favorite octogenarians. Here is  Lisl Steiner  on "How To Obtain Optimism" :     "Forget watching the morning talk shows where the hosts talk over one another and laugh in all the wrong places. For real inspiration to start the day, people should tune in to "Sesame Street." The show is light-hearted, funny and uplifting." Hear, hear.

Books in one box. Stuffed animals in the other box. I thought I'd be mournful sorting memories of my children's childhood and that it would be much harder than it was to give things away, but there is something exhilarating in lightening the load. (Especially as moving day is nigh.) I packed the books and loaded them into my car. When it was time to turn them over to a few incredible teachers who were making the delivery on behalf of a community service project, my heart twitched just a bit. Each and every book in the box represented hours and hours of memorable reading moments with my children who are now 20-somethings out on their own. Our treasured books have landed in the laps of young children in a school in East Harlem. We are thrilled that the books will be treasured by a new generation of young readers. What better gift than to share our love of reading and to inspire and ignite new imaginations? The Cat in the Hat Comes Back .

Another fab photo surfaces in the move! Here is my editor at Glamour magazine ... the inimitable Betty Moodie. She was one of the most innately fashionable people I have ever known and her dictum continues to inspire me. "A good eye should be able to spot 'fashion finds' and put together a great outfit for $10." Betty had incredible style. She wore bangle bracelets up to her elbow and could slap anything together and look fantastic. Ms. Moodie had an elegant way of walking the halls of Conde Nast, too. Small steps. "You don't want to walk like a horse." I am forever grateful to Betty for giving me my first job in NYC. Along with a million other things I learned from her, She taught me how to answer the phone. (Low voice, not chirpy. What did I know? I was right out college in the Pioneer Valley of western Massachusetts.) Oh, and yes, that's Mitch Miller (her beau).

I've got Pandora on the Jason Mraz channel and the volume turned up to 11 . Singing loudly and packing heartily go hand-in-hand. (I think I'm freaking out the cat.) Also ... why am I holding on to this??? (Notice the perfectly-tailored bikini made out of red felt. Circa: 4th grade craft project)

I am the absolute worst mover because I can't stop looking through every photo album and I find a distraction at every corner. Will I need these ink cartridges some day? What to do with reporter notebooks that are only a quarter filled with notes? Why do I have a fancy tin of old stamps? Does this mean anything to me? Why do I have three staplers and seven boxes of staples? Packing up my office is one of the hardest zones because it is charged with so many memories. Tonight I unearthed a smattering of library cards (Bronxville Library, Hiram Halle Memorial Library, West Tisbury Library, Chilmark Library) that track my life path from Westchester to Martha's Vineyard. Other fun things found on the shelves include a whimsically painted hat made out of newspaper that my sister created for my son on his 1st birthday. Oh, and there are those crazy shots of camping with great friends. (One Friday afternoon, we decided to head north out of Manhattan, rented a car and LEFT! Le...

First: packing is a bitch, even if you're excited about moving to a whole new place and launching a new life chapter. Second: Culling one's things does, though, lend an opportunity to meldone's identity. Keep the letter from Diana Vreeland's office, the Polaroid from the party at Muppet mansion, a signed book from former Tonight Show host Steve Allen (I was his press agent during a media blitz in NYC), a signed copy of Arnold Schwarzenegger's first book on bodybuilding (I was writing an article for Glamour ), a letter from Princess Diana's office, a violet-feathered notecard from Elizabeth Taylor and other fun missives through the years .  I'm holding onto my 14 issues as editor of Times of Brunswick for the venerable boys' school at which I loved working, as well as a manifold of other magazines where my stories have appeared. Also keeping manuscripts from the Bonni Library:  "La Vraie Beaute (or The Quest for Resplendence") "The ...

                                                                   Here I am with my beloved babies at the beach.   (Circa 1996 or so.) Happy Mother's Day  to all of the amazing mothers and aunties I know.  May our maternal instinct continue to guide, nurture and embrace those we love. The world depends on us to bring grace and peace. Love on.

At a presentation today, people were asked (nicely ... and upfront), to please turn off their cell phones. There's always ONE person, right? She left her phone on. It rings. She answers it and actually CUPS HER HANDS AND STARTS CONVERSING ON THE FRIKKING CELL PHONE . As if no one could hear her if she cupped her hands. (Is it ME or what????  Fellow Misomaniacs, weigh in.) For more, more more, check out the Facebook page, "Misophonia Madness."   ( Click here. )

                                                                                                                                    Flannel Monkey Sheets First of all, y'all ... I am touched by your the emails regarding the move. "Can I help you pack?" and "All good wishes" were bountiful. Thank you. Must admit to teariness as I packed up linens for my daughter's twin bed. This one-time "big girl bed" will now go to another little girl growing up. Folding the flannel monkey sheets especially flooded me with memories of making the bed ... day after day making the bed. Some sheets are hard to part with, but there's no way I can stretch them to fit a full...

Would you like to come on my journey? Husband and I are moving on. In the good way. After 22 years of living in a beautiful home in the country, we took a one-year hiatus to figure out where we wanted to next homestead. We are embracing the next chapter and heading closer to the city. I am feeling exhilarated and blessed to have the opportunity to re-nest with this guy I've loved for the last 30 years.  A new chapter is underway and away we go! Come with me as we shed stuff, pack up and land. Tonight: Packed winter sweaters and corduroys, leather and velvet pants. Next went the heels, high-, ankle- and puddle boots. Layered the top of the box with winter pocketbooks. I am excited to know that the next time all of this is  unpacked (next fall), husband and I will have settled in our new home. We are like newlyweds deciding on new colors for the walls, and what will go where. Furry friend is close at hand. He senses change afoot.

There are only two episodes left of the final season of "Mad Men." If this teaser ( click here ) isn't enticing enough to watch on Sunday night, I don't know. What. Is. "I'll do my best," said Don Draper. "Yes, I'm afraid I would," said Roger Sterling. "I promise," said Peggy Olson.  "Oh," said Joan Holloway. (Also, is Joan "brown-bagging" it here?) "Did I do something?" asked Roger. (And is Roger wearing a pocket scarf? What's happening??) "I can't believe you!" exclaimed Joan. "I'm not going to let you spoil the moment ... MY moment," said Harry Crane. (Roll credits. CLICK here.)

Away to the woodlands, away -- To dance to the honor of May.