"Knits and Pearls"* Retreat

Please pardon the centering of the text; I've tried to get rid of the formatting, but it won't go.  So it can stay centered.

Coincidence?

FRIDAY

I had been looking forward to this weekend since midsummer:  it was time for my mindful knitting retreat.  We picked up the kids just before dismissal and rode together to Copper Beech Institute.  It's part of a large monastery and retreat center, though unconnected theologically.  If you recall, I went to a Zentangle retreat there in February which was a marvelous experience.  

We arrived not long before sunset and they helped me get settled into my room.  Unlike last time when we were all a bit edgy about the separation and newness of the experience, this time they left rather quickly--to catch a showing of the new Peanuts movie (which they enjoyed.)  Indeed, they had a hold weekend planned--Peanuts, lots of restaurants and take out food, Minecraft, kung fu, ice skating, public free skate, origami.  

I had a big weekend planned, too:  a mindful knitting retreat.  I was more focused on the knitting, hoping to expand my skills beyond rectangles to a simple mitten pattern!  And so with my Icelandic Lopi wool yarn and my double-pointed needles, I was ready to learn.

Our Friday evening gathering included the usual housekeeping issues (no cellphone usage in public spaces, how to return used linens on Sunday via the laundry chute, even a discussion of the omnipresent Catholic iconography as full of compassion and sensitivity and in no way connected to the beliefs of the mindfulness institute.)  We did a mindfulness meditation, letting go of attachment, judgment, criticism, expectations, wishes especially with regard to our knitting.  And then we knit a swatch, silently, checking our bodies and breath, letting go of a product or a goal or an end, just knitting to knit.  We felt the yarn, saw the colors, heard the needles, even sniffed the wool--almost all the senses taking in the knitting (I would taste the fibrous stuff as I threaded a needle later in the weekend.  Eh.)

And then we pulled it all out!

I was glad that I had knitted my green Block Island blanket last week, so that my skills were in practice.  I can cast on, knit, purl, knit two together, bind off, and follow simple patterns as needed, not much more.  But I made the mistake (albeit intentional) of admitting I was a crocheter.  "Oh, we'll cure you of that," one said.  Ah, the superiority of knitters over crocheters.  But I expected it and am used to it (in "real" yarn stores, the clerks barely want to help crocheters choose yarn.)  Still, on the last day, another congratulated me, "You're a knitter now."  So much for judgment and attachment.

The evening was spent on our own and I journaled and doodled in my sketch book.  It's so quiet in the monastery, so much solitude and peace.  It's odd after living in a small house with three other people and four furry beasties; even during the day when I'm all by myself, it's not the same--there are chores and phone calls and errands, either to do or ignore.  At the retreat, there was nothing.  

I resolved to wake up early to see the sunrise and set my alarm.

Saturday

My walk in the woods at 6:30 a.m. was a continuation of the quiet and solitude of the monastery.  I was the only one out.  I found the labyrinth easily enough, though I was convinced I was lost on the alternate wood path just as I spotted it.

Bigger then I realized, more remote, and surrounded by trees, the labyrinth was built in 2007, I think. If you can get to it, via the longer paved path with a short jog through the grass, it is even possibly wheelchair accessible, paved with small gravel as it is and wide and flat.

The sun was just rising, first creating muted pastels and then producing brilliant reds and oranges and yellows.  I watched the sunrise and took pictures from outside the labyrinth at first and then walked the path.  It was a wonderful, focusing, rejuvenating walk.  It wasn't even until I had circled the center  stone circle for awhile that I noticed someone had been there before me:  a novena candle was lit.

I walked back just in time for the breathing mediation with the director of the institute.  As much as I had focused on the knitting of the retreat in my anticipation of it, I got so much out of the meditation; I imagine that my daily practice has been kickstarted.

Then it was breakfast and our morning lesson.  There was so much to learn:  how to split stitches between three needles; how to insure the stitches are not twisted and facing down/away from you so that the project grows down/away from you; what to do if you drop a stitch or a whole needle of stitches (DON'T PANIC!  with non-slippery yarn, the stitches don't really move so you can recover it); how to change color; how to use waste yarn to save space for the thumb; how to easily count stitches on the purl side; how to gather the tops of mitten and thumb together; how to wave in; how to close holes.  I worked on it for hours.  I think I counted 7.5 hours overall for the one mitten.  But I was so excited, so proud, elated, grateful, joyful.  I had learned a new skill.

We broke up a lot of the knitting with stretches, centering breaths, water.  One of the breaths was the alternate-nostril breathing, when I realized that my cold wasn't completely gone!  There was also a cupped-hand/slapping exercise to get the blood flowing, plus one where we twisted back and forth swinging our arms.  There were self-hugs to open up our shoulders, eye exercises because of all the intense focusing, and a variety of yoga poses I didn't know.

I've realized that yoga just makes me sad.  Really, deeply sad.  I even shed a few tears during the morning practice.  My poor body has been so unloved by me and family and friends who criticize it or much more subtly make suggestions for its improvement, not accepting me how I am; it--I?--has been through so much from birth defects and other anomalies (lordosis, scoliosis, low muscle tone, leg differetital), hernia repairs, c-section, herniated discs, tailbone dysfunction, and now emergency abdominal surgery; and it just can't do what so many can do, especially all those stretchy middle-aged white women dedicated to yoga who are pretzeling themselves while I lie prone and alone (yes, lots of self-pity and envy in there, too.)  I always leave yoga feeling sad and down about myself, which is entirely opposite the point so I vowed to skip other yoga sessions entirely.  

So hat evening, instead of yet more yoga, I decided to take another walk to the labyrinth.  It's not everyday you have a labyrinth in the backyard.  As I made my way there, I saw three women from another retreat standing off the path and pointing up, then they waved to me.  I stopped in my tracks in time to see a Great Horned Owl fly from where they were standing, over my head, and in a tree nearby.  And when it took, another one followed.  Two giant, silent, fast, beautiful owls with their little tufty "ears."  Such a gift. So amazing.  I had never seen owls in flight naturally (beyond birds-of-prey exhibitions.)   I was too caught up in seeing them to take a picture; they were too fast for that anyway.

And then I watched the sunset at the labyrinth, the day ending quietly, not in a huge splash of color.  As I walked, I sang Sarah Dan Jones's "When I Breathe in" mediation and Emma's Revolution's "Peace Salaam, Shalom," which I think go well together.  I like to sing.  A few others joined me around the labyrinth later, quiet togetherness.  At first, I thought I'd mind, but I think I actually welcomed the company, even though all we did was nod.  

After dinner, there was a concert.  Girl-with-guitar Kate Callahan came and played many of her lovely folk ballads and songs for us, accompanying herself on guitar.  She also plays a quartz crystal singing bowl, with which she vocalizes and chants.  An incredible sounds!  She did some circle singing with us, which she had studied with renowned singer Bobby McFerrin.  She had one group start a rhythm, the other group do another, and she overlaid it with a tune and lyrics--about our retreat and concert!  Such a gift.

After the concert, as many of us stayed up to knit, as we talked of the music, I offered to teach them the two songs I had sung at the labyrinth.  And I did!  I sang a cappella, alone, in front of other adults; and then most of them were too shy to sing along.  But a few did, boldly.  Singing, I realized (as I've realized before), has so much to do with confidence.  I mustered just enough to sing aloud; I don't think I could do it regularly.

By the end of the evening, I had completed the body of one mitten and closed off the top!  If all went well, I would make the thumb the next morning and perhaps cast on the next mitten to do at home.

Sunday

So many clouds that I didn't bother to get up for sunrise.  I slept in, read more in Voyager (my current Outlander novel), and then got up to dress, pack up, and clean up my room.

We spent the morning knitting in silence, first complete silence and then with some sacred music.  We could quietly ask questions, as I had to in order to complete my thumb.  We checked in with our breaths and our bodies (especially to combat hunched postures common to knitters.)  

And I finished one whole mitten!!!!!  

In fact, we all finished at least one.

We celebrated over lunch together, commended the friendly and supportive community we had created in just a few days, pledged to continue our mindfulness practice and knitting upon reentry into the "real" world.  I was grateful to the teacher for her knowledge and assistance and patience, to the participants for their companionship and support, the Copper Beech staff and volunteers for creating a nurturing and sustaining event, to my family for letting me go, and for the privilege of being able to attend a retreat and to have knitting as a hobby.  

Then Mama and the kids picked me up.  They met a few of the staff and then helped me fetch my things.  We all walked to the labyrinth together, the kids talking the long path "off road" through the woods.  We walked relatively quietly, joyfully, through the labyrinth.  The kids walked ahead while Mama and I walked holding hands (see, nice wide labyrinth; couldn't do that on Block Island.)   At the center, we placed a little heart that I had purchased at the gift shop.

And then we were off, retreat over.  Back to life, back to reality, as the song goes.  I hope I carry a little bit of the peace and acceptance into the whirlwind of the holidays.  Perhaps this was just the right way to kick off the holiday season.

For next year, I promise everyone mittens!

*That's "pearls of wisdom" and a knitting pun on purl.  The retreat's title and pun, not mine!


-=-=-=-=-
Poems read during some of our mindfulness moments:

Allow by Danna Faulds

There is no controlling life.

Try corralling a lightning bolt,

containing a tornado.  Dam a

stream and it will create a new

channel.  Resist, and the tide

will sweep you off your feet.

Allow, and grace will carry

you to higher ground.  The only

safety lies in letting it all in –

the wild and the weak; fear,

fantasies, failures and success.

When loss rips off the doors of

the heart, or sadness veils your

vision with despair, practice

becomes simply bearing the truth.

In the choice to let go of your

known way of being, the whole

world is revealed to your new eyes.

________

Surrender by Edmund Leland

I surrender because control creates false security and is an insatiable master. 

I surrender not to give up, but to open up.

Not to let go, but to receive

Not to drop something and have less, but to unclench these hands and make way for more spaciousness that holding on or controlling could never allow.

Sweet conscious choice to surrender.

This is how I choose to live

This is how I choose to love

This is how I choose to dance my life.

______

Last Days by Mary Oliver

Things are

  changing; things are starting to

    spin, snap, fly off into

      the blue sleeve of the long

        afternoon. Oh and ooh

come whistling out of the perished mouth

  of the grass, as things

turn soft, boil back

  into substance and hue. As everything, 

    forgetting its own enchantment, whispers:

      I too love oblivion why not it is full

        of second chances. Now,

hiss the bring curls of the leaves. Now!

  booms the muscle of the wind. 

_______

Love after Love by Derek Walcott

The time will come 
when, with elation, 
you will greet yourself arriving 
at your own door, 

in your own mirror, 
and each will smile at the other's welcome
and say, sit here. Eat. 
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread.
Give back your heart 
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you 

all your life, whom you ignored 
for another, who knows you by heart. 
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, 

the photographs, the desperate notes, 
peel your own image from the mirror. 
Sit. Feast on your life. 

_______

Kindness by Naomi Shihab Nye

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. 
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and
     purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.

TGITh

What is it about weeks that begin with a holiday dragging on so long?

I've thought it was later than it was for days.

But now it's Thursday night which is as good as Friday for me, especially because I don't have any errands or appointments tomorrow beyond socializing with friends and visiting my hospice patient. And the temperatures will be a little lower tomorrow--today got up to 85F which is 10+ degrees  above normal--and it will be even cooler after Saturday.

This weekend is fairly relaxed for us.  Regular Saturday morning lessons and then church on Sunday (I'm not teaching til next week), which means time for crocheting, movies (we're on a Muppet kick--sang through the original Muppet Movie and laughed through Muppets Most Wanted.   We thought of you, Aunt Banana, and I recalled your love of many things Muppet, like your Miss Piggy puppet and how you'd watch the Animal scene over and over), archery (Mama bought a lower draw-weight bow so I can pull it back; my previous 28 lb-draw was too heavy for me now), maybe cooking lessons for the kids (Bud has asked for clam chowder), perhaps some family games (current favorites:  Munchkin Panic, Castellan, Forbidden Island, and Risk) . . . .  

AND  the season premiere of "Doctor Who!!!!!"   We'll watch it Saturday night, after enjoying a large repast of British-inspired food.  Steak and ale pie, Welsh rarebit, finger sandwiches, Jammie Dodgers, shortbread, and scones with jam.  And tea, of course; maybe Shandy.  But no fish fingers and custard!  (Favorite of the 11th doctor.)  We've been waiting since Christmas.

Our Anniversary Weekend Getaway

This weekend was our sometimes-annual tradition of a weekend alone in the city (see here and here; we went to Block Island in 2014)--what we have called a nano-honeymoon--perfectly timed with our actual 18th anniversary.  And we had a wonderful time!  While the kids stayed with their NYC grandparents eating their way across Queens and going to the beach (even boogie boarding on the waves!  Think tummy surfing with a smaller board), Mama and I returned to our favorite hotel near Union Square and had a delightful three days.

FRIDAY

We actually started our weekend, after dropping off the kids, in Midtown--at 61st near 1st, at the old Mount Vernon Hotel Museum.  Built as a mansion with carriage house in the late 18th century, the carriage house became a "day hotel" (think 19th-century spa) with parlors for the ladies to sew, play music, visit, and take tea, and fishing and a horse-trotting track for the gentleman, with a big supper for all.  Miraculously, the building survived (Thanks, Con Ed!  They bought it way back when and didn't tear it down) and is now administer by the Colonial Dames.   Gommie, you might remember this--it was known as the Abigail Adams Smith House when you went, I think.  Well, like Gommie, I love a good house museum and this one had great fake food (that three-tiered gelatin dessert!  those blackberries!  even that oyster pie!), a remarkable parlor barrel organ, and a complete traveling whiskey case with gold-painted glass bottles in all sorts of odd shapes. We also liked the shop, where Mama picked up the little owl that features in most of our pictures instead of one of us (she did the same, with a different little owl that was mistakenly left at home, on her own trip into the city about a month ago.)

We headed to our hotel next, the indulgent Inn at Irving Place, where we've stayed the last two times, and were even able to get into our lovely room early.  I always love the period kitsch, tastefully arranged without too much thought to historiocity; a little nicer than shabby chic, it is very comfortable and evokes a different time for me (but with air conditioning!)  It's also very conveniently located right near Union Square, which affords us a great neighborhood to explore and dining options to try.  Mama had assiduously researched special GF/DF/FODMAPS dining options for me and found several in the area.  And not just meat and rice.  We started with french fries from our favorite Maoz, which we ate while perusing the Union Square Green Market, on our way to the Lion Brand yarn shop.  

Loved these bags; wish they were t-shirts

The Lion Brand yarn shop had a great all-yarn (mostly knit) farmer's market display in its window and the staff walked around helping customers while knitting and crocheting!  I can't imagine.  I had fun seeing all the various yarn colors and textures, plus notions and accessories, and only brought home half a bag of yarn!  Okay, their bags are really big, but still.  I even finished a mandala in the Landscapes Boardwalk (which, I must admit, I liked better as a skein than as a finished piece--for me, there is too much murky green and brown and ugly orange!  And the colors change so quickly that the striping didn't work well in the rounds.  Oh, well, it felt wonderful and I enjoyed the crocheting nonetheless.)  Mama even got an Amigurumi book. (She isn't a yarn hoarder like I am.  Yet.)

I might be getting my days switched, but we visited the art supplies store on Friday, too.  Mama perused everything like a kid in the proverbial candy shop, picking up a pencil case and some other items.  We spent a lot of down time on this trip just hanging out in our lovely room and engaging in some of our hobbies--crochet, drawing, reading--in the serene peace and quiet.  I loved the afternoon light through our tall windows.  We also ate take out in our room a few times.  Our late-afternoon snack Friday was from Hu's kitchen, which had a GF/DF dessert called Maple "Creme Brulee" made with taro and coconut milk; Mama enjoyed a "Diesel Walker" or something, which was sloppy joe beef on a baed of sauteed "grandmaster veg."  Late that night, we had GF rosemary-potato-ricotta pizza, a lovely GF truffle ham sandwich, and a GF nutella strawberry dessert pizza from Pie by the Pound.  At some point, and I can't recall when, we also got a snack from Wok to Walk, cilantro-laden noodles with spicy sauce for her, chicken teriyaki rice for me.  As I said, we did manage to find some great food.

SATURDAY
We started this day off, after "sleeping in" til 8:30 a.m., with a long-awaited trip to Friend of a Farmer, a restaurant I had seen advertised and had wanted to visit since my grad school days 20 years earlier!  While I was sad to have to skip the renown pancakes, I did enjoy a skillet omelet and home fries.  We also got a sampling of their homemade breads, of which I ate this incredible lemon one (half a slice, willing to take the consequences, which never materialized.)  Mama enjoyed her crab cakes benedict and cheese grits.  What a way to start the day!

You would think we don't get food in Connecticut because we stopped at the Bradford Cheese Shop next and had fun choosing delicacies to take home.  Well, in truth, our little corner of CT has an overabundance of pizza, diners, and take-out Chinese, not much else (unless you look really hard, but we have found nearby enough Peruvian, Indian, vegetarian at Bloodroot); at least, we have both a Whole Foods and a Trader Joe's.    We got special Fentiman's soda, including my favorite Rose Lemonade and Mama's favorite Shandy (lemonade and beer, a British combo), some GF treats, lots of odd potato chip flavors for Bud, some caramels for Sis; more than half the fun was perusing the international variety on the neat shelves.


Later that day was the highlight of our trip, Fun Home, the musical.  In case you don't know, Fun Home is based on the autobiographical, "tragicomedy" graphic novel by famed lesbian cartoonist, Alison Bechdel.  She focuses on both her coming-out narrative and her closeted, gay father's suicide four months later, in a wonderful, richly-layered story of her life at different ages (mainly, elementary school, college, and adulthood.)  We had known and enjoyed her nationally-syndicated Dykes to Watch Out For comic strip for 20 years and read the graphic novel when it came out.  But we never knew it could be a musical!

And what a musical it was!  I had seen "little Alison" actress Sydney Lucas perform "Ring of Keys" on the Tonys and instantly loved the song.  It reminded me of Mama, when we first met (except she had jeans):

Your swagger and your bearing
And the just-right clothes you're wearing
Your short hair and your dungarees
and your lace-up boots
and your ring of keys.

It's only missing her flannel shirt, baseball cap, (SW 25, i.e. Stonewall Riots 25th anniversary), and her omnipresent, omnipotent Swiss Army knife.

We both loved the musical.  First, the 1970s period details--the photo cube, the box tv on the floor which the kids sprawl in front of, the "Partridge Family," the clothes, even the exclamation "tough titties!" (where did we get that, anyway?)  Though, I didn't grow up with a dad who ran a funeral home--a "fun home"--like she did, but I remembered many of the other bits.  Mama recognized the old bags from Macy's, the Strand, and Li-Lac Chocolates.

The performance was unique, being played in the round at Circle in the Square, an intimate theater.  It was also played straight through, with no intermission or late seating.  In fact, we were in a section where we weren't allowed to get up and leave at all, behind the little orchestra, by a trap door!  Big Alison sat at the base of our stairs a couple of times.  You really felt like a ghost in Alison's life, experiencing its layers as she remembered it.  And the actors were top-notch.  So amazing.  The actress playing Big Alison is a lesbian, too and makes the show.  Middle Alison played it with no make up and is so believable as an awkward college dyke.  And Little Alison, just 12 years old . . . wow, just wow.

But it really was the coming out story that resonated with us--from Little Alison's awareness of not fitting in sometimes (dresses, barrettes) to her crush in college and first forays into lesbian culture and sex (which elicited groans from Big Alison--"I didn't even know what Take Back the Night was!"  and "I had a crush on my first grade teacher!" to being scared of hanging out with "real lesbians" and that first major romance "I'm majoring in Joan . . . ."--there were often two Alisons on the stage at once, drawing connections between different parts of her story) to the pain of coming out to parents, with silences and awkward conversations (I know what it's like to send that letter.)  You could definitely tell where the lesbians in the audience were because we laughed loudly at the same parts (and there were so many more lesbian couples than I have ever seen at a Broadway show, ever.)  It was so special and really resonated; we just never see lesbians in Broadway shows.    Perfect, perfect, perfect.  Especially for the 18th anniversary of our own little lesbian love story (20 if you count from the very beginning, but Aug 23 is the date we like to count best.)

Whew.  We processed the entire experience over a late lunch at Otto, Mario Batali's pizza place.  He is very GF friendly and so I got a GF spaghetti carbonara that was delicious.  Mama had a seafood appetizer with little dishes of cuddlefish, cod, anchovy, mussels, calamari and the like treated in different cold, pickly salads.  We also loved the spinach, ricotta insalata, salad with honeyed truffle oil!  Decadent.  And the desserts!  Olive oil gelato with passion fruit granita and basil syrup with a sprinkle of salt--I got a big bite of salt and thought it was awful but second tastings, after Mama's reassurances, revealed it to be a marvelous concoction.  I got the lemon meringata.  YUM!  We walked nearby Washington Square, where Mama spent summers as a child when her mom was finishing her Ph.D. at NYU, reminiscing about her childhood at Bobst library, our time in NYC together, that fateful day 18 years ago (after a fight of all things--just like in the movies when the sparring characters kiss!--but we were fighting long distance Chicago to NY over the plot of Bar Stories and its implications and then, well, we weren't fighting), September 11, and other times.

We sauntered home via the Strand bookstore, where we picked up some books for the kids, souvenirs for our cat sitters, and a couple of craft books.  I came across a few reminders of dear Aunt Sis--an artsy epistolary book called Griffin and Sabine that she had given me decades ago and a pair of art socks (was it Van Gogh?) that I had taken her just last December.  Bittersweet.  We enjoyed a slow walk home; it was cooler on Saturday than Friday, remarking on the various buildings (we always realize anew that the house across the street was Washington Irving's)--and even the plantings!  (Because if a plant can survive the sidewalks of NY, surely it will survive our yard)  I think there are a few more caladium varietals we can try.   We spent the rest of the night in our room, playing with art supplies and yarn, just talking and hanging out, like we did in NYC when we met in 1994.

SUNDAY

We had planned to attend a Friends church service at the historic meeting house in Queens, but when the time came, we were more content to laze around and talk.  We picked up some GF treats at a nearby coffee shop and had tea in our hotel parlor, while reading bits from the Sunday Times to each other.  Yay, panda twins!  Boo, abortion restrictions in Ohio!  Great bit on Tig Notaro!  Plus lots of articles we skipped because they'd been online all week already (there's an article on 36 hours in Burlington, VT, Ms. Sew and Sow.)

We checked out around noon and grabbed lunch at British fish and chips shop, A Salt and Battery.  Mmm, vinegar on chips, bangers with a curry sauce (Mama loves that curry sauce!), and another Shandy for Mama.  We grabbed some last-minute treats from the British shop next door (more rose teas, various crisps flavors for Bud, some Crunchie bars for Sis, a TARDIS mug.)  I would've loved to go to Tea and Sympathy, next door (all three are owned by the same couple), but would've been sad to forego my usual non-GF/DF favorite scone and clotted cream.

We drove out to get the kids, down the West Side, past the WTC and City Hall, across the Brooklyn Bridge, and through various neighborhoods til we reached the beach.    The kids had a marvelous time as well and we were all sorry to see the weekend end.

Until next year . . . .

Whew!

What a wonderful, exhausting, frustrating, fun first 24 hours.

• Kids' Service Team event.  The kids' service team is a great combo of community building and helping others.  We shared pizza, salad, and brownies at church, and then the kids made fleece blankets and the adults tried their hands at knitting.  Sis and a few of her friends joined us and we practiced casting on and knitting . . . and fixing our mistakes.  I learned a few new techniques--the one needle cast-on, how to prevent curling edges in an all-knit piece by dropping the first stitch of each row, how to rework dropped stitches with a crochet hook (over-under, over-under), and how to pull stitches off a needle and put them back on (very carefully, making sure stitches are facing the right way)--with the help of one of the experts.  It was all fun.  But now I have a scarf to finish!  
• Ice skating!
• Kung fu!
• Cookie booth--oh, the stories I could tell.  And so I will.  Of course, the GS cookie booth troubles started a couple of weeks ago when the store that had agreed to host several troops selling cookies changed their minds and we all had to scramble for new times and places and reschedule everybody!  Then today, we our people showed up at a different store, they said we weren't supposed to be there, though we had registered and our contact was on her way to smooth it over.  Well, don't mess with Cookie Moms!  And so we stayed put.  Until we had to move--our shifts were split between two stores because of the aforementioned schedule change.  THEN, a GS mom stationed at the store we'd just been at came over and harassed us for being at our store, saying we were competing with them and ruining their sales and that wasn't supposed to happen (though, there had been another troop at the store all morning--the troop of an older sister of one of our girls.) It happens every year.  EVERY Year.  Novice.  Again, don't mess with Cookie Moms!  But all of our girls worked their shifts, even in the cold, and we sold 40 cases of cookies, which is excellent.  We are very proud of our troop and very grateful to all of our volunteers.
• The VAGINA Monologues:  Our old church sponsored a fundraiser reading of the Eve Ensler play this evening and I went with a bunch of friends, who first gathered for dinner together.  Veggie lasagna, salad, garlic bread, flourless chocolate cake, and almond cake.  Yum!  And the show, oh, the show was amazing.  I'm ashamed to admit, as both a feminist and a lesbian, that I had never seen it.  But this production was perfect because I knew 95% of the cast, from old church and around town, and there they were saying things like vagina, cum, cunt, orgasm, hair, coochie snorcher, folds, clit, lips, wet, etc etc outloud in public!  And talking about rapes in Kosovo, female genital mutilation, repression, and even dry cotton tampons and cold duck lip specula!  We laughed riotously--at the Angry Vagina and the dominatrix who curated moans of her female clients (and demonstrated several of them, like the WASP moan and the exhausted Zen moan!)--and sighed at the "cellar" and "tulip" and lack of self-awareness (and cheered at the painful, glorious discovery of such), and choked up at the memories of violence.  It really was a wonderful evening.  So proud of the cast of wonderful, talented women, and of the UU church community that brought them together to benefit a women's outreach center nearby.  Well-done!  (It was also great to see so many old church friends, whom I miss often.  Took me awhile to hug my way out the door.  Haven't felt that much love and support and energy in a space, like that, since lesbian coffeehouse in Chicago.)
• I got home to discover that my BIL had been called back to work a hospital shift tonight.  He was with the kiddos and his sis for about an hour.  They were very sorry to see him go and quite subdued when I got home.  We know he'll try again soon and we'll have a good time and besides . . . . . 
• It looks like the weather is turning ugly earlier tomorrow than we expected, with anywhere from 1-6" coming (depending on whom you believe) plus ice, and so it is probably best that he won't be on the road tomorrow night.
• And so we'll see what tomorrow brings weather-wise, along with church, Soup Sunday, and the arts and crafts party.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Solo Almond Bundt Cake

Almond Glaze Topping
1 cup confectioners sugar
1⁄4 teaspoon almond extract
2 tablespoon light cream

Cake
1 cup butter or margarine, softened
2 1⁄4 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup sugar
2 teaspoon baking powder
3  eggs
1⁄2 teaspoon salt
1 can Solo Almond Cake and Pastry Filling or 1 jar of any other fruit filling
1⁄4 cup milk

Chocolate Glaze Topping (no chocolate on the one at church)
1 cup confectioners’ sugar
2 tablespoon Dutch-process cocoa
1⁄2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
3 tablespoon buttermilk or low-fat milk

Preheat oven to 350° F. Grease and flour 10-inch tube pan or 12-cup Bundt pan and set aside. Beat butter and granulated sugar in large bowl with electric mixer until light and fluffy. Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in almond filling until blended. Stir flour, baking powder, and salt until mixed. Add to almond mixture alternately with milk, beginning and ending with dry ingredients.  Beat until blended. Spread batter evenly in prepared pan.Bake 50 to 55 minutes or until cake tester inserted in center comes out clean. Cool in pan on wire rack 10 minutes. Remove from pan and cool completely on rack. To make glaze, combine ingredients in small bowl, and stir until blended and smooth. Spoon or drizzle over top of cake. Let stand until glaze is set. Or top with fresh fruit and whipped cream!

Flourless Chocolate Cake

Summer Fun: Huzzah!

Mama and I celebrated our 17th anniversary this weekend--and in high style, by going to the NY Renaissance Festival.  This was particularly meaningful because Mama and I had one of our earliest outings to the faire the summer we met 20 years ago (I've written about my love affair with fairs here.)  With Goo in tow!  And he was the age then that the kiddos are now.  If you'd told me then that 20 years later, Mama and I would re-visit the fair with our twins, with a life in the CT suburbs and be LEGALLY married, I never would have believed it.   It was a wonderful weekend (save one thing I'll get to.)

Costumes:  We always like to dress up for the Ren fest.  And this year the kids also got into the act.  Sis wore a cloak, sword, and carried a bow (Bud's, from Texas), with a special LOTR leaf pendant we purchased for her and plastic attachable elf ears, for she is Legolas, the elf archer.  Bud is Frodo, with his colonial vest, a cloak, the One Ring on a silver chain, and his little silver dagger that he was handed during the parade at the Ren Fest in Texas.  He's used it in a lot of play these last 5 years.  Mama and I were just general shire folk, me in a vest and skirt, Mama in a vest and jeans.  We added to our costumes while we were there, half the fun of the festival.  I got a flower garland, along with a belt and pouch.  Mama got leather shoulder armor called a paldron.  Bud got a belt and sword, plus real halfling ears.  Sis added archer gauntlets.  We were quite the well-dressed crew.   It certainly makes the festival more fun.  And we got things we can wear again for other faires, for Halloween, even for Comic Con.  (Speaking of the latter, we saw several Doctors--three Tenth and one Fourth, all in costume!  The first Ten was the best, English accent and all, and posed gamely for a picture with the kids.)

Food:  Snacking always plays a huge part in the faire experience and we like to eat.  We had the requisite huge turkey leg and funnel cakes, of course.  We also really liked the fried macaroni and cheese in little triangles on a stick.  Mama and I enjoyed the florentine quesadilla, with spinach, feta, mozzarella, and pesto; we also liked the little doughnuts glazed in orange juice and apple cider.  Bud liked the cherry limeade, while I had a yummy orange float, like an Orange Julius only less chemically--just orange juice, ice, and vanilla ice cream.

Shows and Activities:  Between snacks, we wandered the faire and enjoyed all the entertainment.  My favorite, by far, was the archery.  I'm not great at it, even as a Level 1 instructor, but I enjoy it; Mama and the kids do, too.  We all even managed to hit near the center of the targets.  We watched two chess games--somewhat like wizard chess, with human "pieces" fighting for the spots--something I keenly remember from 20 years ago.  Sis really liked the sparring.  She also liked the horses in the joust.  We all laughed heartily at the Vixens En Garde-version of Hamlet, with a little Star Wars thrown in for fun.  And of course, we saw the Birds of Prey show, with the Master Falconer showing off his Andean Condor, Black Vulture, Peregrine Falcon, and Harris Hawk.  The show was extra-special after our own English falconry experience where we flew our own vultures and Gyr-falcon.  On our own, we had a few sword fights with all of our weapons.  We didn't stop for too many musicians (there actually weren't too many), though we danced to the drums of Wolgemut at the end of the first day.

Which brings me to the sad bit:  Bud's special silver-colored dagger went missing at some point in the last hour of our two-day visit.  We don't know where--and he and Mama searched high and low--and we don't hold out hope that it will be found.  I was very sad, not only because he was very sad, but also because it was such a big part of his childhood these last five years.  Sure, that probably means we shouldn't have taken it--I'm not sure I realized how attached I was to it until after the fact, though I knew he was--or at least tied it to him; lots of guilt to go with the sadness because I didn't notice that he'd set it down.  Hindsight is 20-20.  And up to that point, two whole days, he'd kept track of it.  But then it was gone . . . as Ar-Ma recently said about Gong's shoes and expensive new orthotics stolen from a local temple while they were praying, somebody else needed them more than he did and it was time for them to move on (sorta like a less-evil version of the One Ring, I suppose.)  That wasn't much comfort, though.  But as FB often reminds us about Mr. Rogers's "look for the helpers," we were amazed at the kindness of strangers.  The first let Mama and Bud back into the faire to search for the dagger, which we only found missing after we got to the car, even though they hadn't gotten their hands stamped.  Several shop owners tried to help them, until the last, seeing how upset Bud was, walked them over to her boyfriend's stall where they gave him, without accepting payment, a special as yet unpainted Elvish blade.  On the walk back to the car, he apparently planned how he would decorate it with runes and Celtic knots.

Shopping:  Before the dagger incident, we'd picked up a few other things.  The kids had a budget, but I'm the one who did most of the shopping.  I always favor candles and lotions--and I actually got a candle that melts into lotion!!  The other candle is one of those multi-dip/multi-colored ones that are then carved to reveal the layers--a staple of 70s living rooms, if I recall correctly; Sis chose a pink and purple one with little rainbow layers.  We also really enjoyed experimenting at Nixi Stix, with professional grade juggling balls, pins, dancing wands, dancing sticks, and these Toroflex things that the kids like--think of it as a perpetual-motion Slinky.  There wasn't as much great shopping as i'd expected so it took awhile to find something to send to Aunt Sis, who loved the Ren Fest and went every year; my Christmas present always came from the craftspeople.  

So, all in all, we had a wonderful time, though the loss of the dagger overshadowed the end a bit.  On the way home, we talked about going to faires in Pennsylvania and Maryland sometime; we laughed that later, Sis and Bud could even work them--on horseback, on violin, juggling, swordplay.  It was the perfect anniversary weekend.

Summer Fun: Queens of Weekends

What a weekend!  It was our second annual "leave the kids in Queens while we take Manhattan" nano-honeymoon!  Cooler than last year, the weekend was also lazier with fewer stops and plans.  And it was lovely that way.

But we almost ended before we started because of something called "Summer Streets," whereby cyclists take over the Village and Park Avenue and many cross streets were closed.  We could not get to either our hotel or first stop, the Merchant's House Museum.  Very frustrating to drive around for what seemed like forever--most of the parking garages are on the side streets so there was nowhere to stop.  Yes, yes, I'm sure it's great that the cyclists get the streets--but with no announcements on the traffic radio and with the cops uncertain where all the blockades were (they didn't even know why the streets were closed!!), it was a little difficult.  We eventually parked somewhere near enough to our hotel and managed to get the bags there, where they would hold them while we made our first outing to the Merchant's House Museum, via the subway.  Look, beavers at the Astor St station!  Maybe the Astors were fur traders long, long ago?

Beaver tile in Astor Pl subway--for you, Pop

The Merchant's House Museum, built in 1832, is the only family home preserved intact from the nineteenth century in NYC.  And it's a jewel--4 stories right out of The Heiress/Washington Square, complete with kitchen and family room in the "garden apartment"/below street space, formal first floor with two parlors separated by pocket doors, bedrooms on the second floor, and then the only existing Irish home from 19th-century NYC where the servants lived on the fourth floor (current museum staff on third)!  With sparse visitors, unobtrusive staff, a big binder of information, most of the original furnishings (it became a museum right after the youngest daughter of the family died, aged 93, in 1933!), and natural lighting, you really could immerse yourself in the place and imagine the time.  Though, going from basement to fourth floor was a haul--those poor Irish girls!  We also liked the little garden in the backyard.  I would highly recommend this to all, both jaded NY inhabitants, seen-it-all regulars, and newbie tourists.

The garden at the Merchant's House Museum, a highlight

This is our hotel, same one as last year, on Irving Place.  It's an indulgence, for sure, but we love the Victorian richness and the location.

Where we stayed

Fresh flowers everywhere

Our room, rich Victorian decor, especially the wallpaper

Interestingly, the hotel is two brownstones, linked, almost exactly of the same floorplan as the Mercant's House, with similar mirrors between the windows on opposite end of the formal parlors, the elaborate moldings on walls and above chandeliers, and elaborate mantles.

We headed out to the Greenmarket in Union Square to peruse the produce and farm products, coming across a few Connecticut "neighbors"--the cheese guy from Colchester and the garlic lady from Shelton! We sampled goat cheeses and jams, pickles and chutneys.  In the end, we cobbled together a wonderful market lunch--farmer's bread, a honey lavender goat cheese, roasted garlic spread, plum chutney, triple fruit marmalade, another goat cheese, two aged Welsh cheeses (a Vivace and a Boomsday??), a slice of mazurka cake, and cups of mint lemonade and mint tea with maple syrup (Mama also got some jerky and sausages for another time.)  Of course, we didn't finish it all, but it was a lovely meal.  I also picked up some lovely merino in variegated pink.  

A butterfly proving the worth of butterfly bushes, at the Greenmarket in Union Square

Gandhi and sunflowers

Dozens of chess players set up  in the Square (Bud would love to play)

After an afternoon nap, we headed out again at dusk to do some shopping.  Mama replaced her worn out Doc Martens and then we wiled away the evening at Forbidden Planet and Strand Books.  It's hard not to buy more books than we can carry!  Especially now that we buy kids' books, too.  A late dinner was falafel and fixings at Maoz's.  Yes, a lot like last year.

Sleeping in.  The Sunday NYTimes.  A pot of Marbury Rose tea.  Chocolate scones.  Almond scones.  Fresh fruit.  A lazy stroll around the neighborhood.  Dark chocolate granita.  A wonderful, slow Sunday morning in the city.

On our way out of Manhattan after noon checkout to get the kids in the Rockaways, we drove around the Village a bit now that the roads were open.  We located my old office on 13th between 5th and 6th (it housed the museum staff before the museum building opened.)  And serendipitously came across famous Brit teashop Tea and Sympathy!  I've always wanted to take Mama there, having been once myself, but we never seemed to be in the right place at the right time.  And we even got a parking space!  We weren't ready to sit for tea but went into the shop next door, where we spoke at length with Sean, husband of T&S founder Nicola Perry (whose portrait, Lambeth, was recently at your NPG.)  He told several jokes--about Texas, his wife, and even alluded to something funny surrounding the Dalai Lama--and was very friendly.  We bought two kinds of tea, Garibaldis, pickled onions, wine gummies, and a copy of their cookbook.  While I waited to pay, Mama nipped next door and ordered us some fish and chips at their companion store, A Salt and Battery.  Hmmmmm!  With extra vinegar on the "chips."  Mama also got some mushy peas, a few pies, and who knows what else.  She wanted to get a "chip butty," or french fry sandwich, for Sis, but we didn't imagine it would keep.  We'll have to take them there, especially because we're very seriously considering a trip across the pond within the next year (what do you think, Lambeth?) to see the Harry Potter studios, London, and of course Lambeth. 

After polishing off our lunch, we headed, late, off to Queens, past the construction of the new World Trade Center tower and then under the Verrazano Bridge and past the cannons in the area (Fort Hamilton.)  The kids had an equally wonderfully time with Ma and Gong--Chinese soup bun lunch, the beach, watching the movie Spaceballs not once but twice, a fancy homecooked seafood dinner with prawns and lobster (and chicken for Sis), pancake breakfast made to order by Goo, dim sum, and even ice cream from the truck twice!  

We sure know how to have a fun weekend!

World Trade Center/Freedom Tower, but with ominous cloud

Driving under the Verrazano on the way to fetch the kiddos