Leftover Love

There is a buzz of anticipation that seems to infiltrate the senses with regards to the Thanksgiving holiday. One can smell the love that goes into the meal, even before the first oven match is lit. This holiday signifies the beginning of the season of good tidings. Those little red Salvation Army tins start to appear along with the clutter of shopping bags (yesterday was Black Friday, also known to retailers as The Blitz, have you all started your shopping yet?) People begin to feel a bit more open to the idea of giving and it all begins at the Thanksgiving table. We can all talk about a part of the meal that we love the most; be it the juicy turkey with the stuffing, or creamy macaroni and cheese or the sweet cranberry sauce.

But for me, I love the idea of making the rounds. I call myself the "Turkey Dinner Doctor". I ring doorbells and share my table side manner along with laughs and family memories. It is always a good time to catch up with the people in your life and share your experiences...along with indulging in potato salad, collard greens and paella (a Spanish rice dish that my family makes often and loves to eat. There are different variations of the dish, but this is the recipe that I've tried. It's delicious!)

But the most gracious of times comes when after the food, family and football games and along with the hugs, kisses and promises to see one another for the Christmas gathering, you are given the ultimate token of thanks. It's aluminumed appreciation. It's a Tupperware testimonial...otherwise known as leftovers! Its how your family not only shows their affection for you but also for your refrigerator.

It seems like this is the time of year when your refrigerator can literally embrace one of the many meanings of the holidays. It can hold all of the love that one's family takes the time to show them. Any other time it seems like the box screams for compassion (it's like that movie, Little Shop of Horrors, where the giant Venus flytrap screams: "Feed Me Seymour!!") but there may only be the occasional ketchup packet and box of baking soda. Now I know what you may be thinking: Is she a cook? I have cooked many times, but at this rate, I think it's a bit overrated. I'm a single woman living in New York, why rack your brain over what to make for dinner when making reservations is so much easier!
LOL!

So, we will sit at the bounty that is the Thanksgiving table, count our blessings and know that we are in a place of communion for life's large and small events. It is at these family affairs with love, grace and a big dollop of humor that we are reminded of who we are and where we come from. And we can then take pleasure in knowing that the warm holiday memories that are whipped up on this day of thanks can be relived for the next few days over slices of pumpkin pie and cold turkey. Also known as Leftover Love.

Turkey Day Thanks

Count your blessings instead of your crosses;
Count your gains instead of your losses.
Count your joys instead of your woes;
Count your friends instead of your foes.
Count your smiles instead of your tears;
Count your courage instead of your fears.
Count your full years instead of your lean;
Count your kind deeds instead of your mean.
Count your health instead of your wealth;
Count on God instead of yourself.

LHB-2006

Besides family, friends and football, here's hoping that your holiday is "stuffed" with many more reasons to be thankful. Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Mama Needs A New Pair Of...

**This post was originally slated for publication on Thursday, November 9th, but in being the busy career woman that I am, I found that I had to hop around a bit. The lesson here is that life is so not a straight line. So sit back and enjoy. And like Bartells and James used to say: "Thanks for your support!"**

It seems like people are always on the go in this town. In living in this fast paced city I’ve come to learn that we have to find ways to keep up. If we’re not rushing around by cab, bus, motorcycle or subway, the next best bet is that we’re walking. And we sometimes need fabulous accessories to make the walk through this New York life a little more fun. And what better way to do that than to shop! I may not be the smartest or the prettiest girl in the room, but I can always tell you where to get the best deals! I had what can only be described as an interesting week at work and felt the immediate need to unwind. I called my former co-worker and good friend Justine and asked if she wanted to go shopping. She and her friend Anna were initially gung ho to participate in our version of retail therapy. And it would have been great to think that we would have been able to conquer the bargaining beast, but the girl power shopping spree was derailed as the cat nap that Justine said she would take, turned into an all day slumber fest. (It’s ok Jus, I know you were tired but you’re still cool with me!) With that, I hopped on an uptown train and decided to go it alone.

I was a woman on a mission. I was determined to bypass the experience that was my work day and end it as the queen of what I like to call “retail relaxation" and DSW Shoes was the perfect place to indulge. I climbed the escalator and soon found myself alone and adrift in the sea of shoes –- Michael Kors, Steve Madden, Prada, Stuart Weitzman and Chinese Laundry to name a few –- also known as discounted dreamery. I wandered up and down the aisles wondering which whimsical wedged boot or sexy stiletto stunner would call my attention. I was excited as these shoes would be a great way to pull together this year's fall/winter wardrobe. There was a cool pair of nubuck high boots that I saw and liked immediately. Along with thinking of what fashion statements could be made, I also had to think how these boots would fair in New York’s infamous winters. In looking at the material and heels, I’m sure they would be ruined after the first walk around the block. New York sidewalks can be brutal on any pair of shoes (one would have to wonder how it was that Carrie Bradshaw navigated all the pot holes and unpaved streets of this city in four hundred dollar Manolo Blahniks), and with that I put the boots and my fashionista fantasies back on the shelf and kept looking.

As my fellow shoe enthusiasts bounced around happily with their purchases, I found myself settling in and whining. I had been looking around for a while and there was nothing that was pulling me…nothing that said “buy me!” I even went so far as looking in the clearance aisle. There were purple, green and red stickers. Fifteen percent, twenty percent, twenty five percent off…and still nothing. Here I was, in Nine West Nirvana…Prada Paradise being weighed down by the drudgery of having not found my perfect shoe. I took a deep breath and decided to give it all one last look. Nothing. I felt totally defeated. I was finally prepared to walk out of the store when I found myself charmed by a pair of boots; no loud colors or bizarre adornments here. I looked all around that store, how could I have missed these? The boots were brilliantly simple…just like me. I sat on a bench and tried them on and in that moment, my mission was accomplished and the shoe enthusiast in me was satisfied. The joys of shoes are as good as the joys of sex...and some may be happy to know, they last longer!

Here they are, my latest purchase...my new boots! These boots are made for walking and I now have "Happy Feet!"

The Crumbs Of Life...

I took this picture while still groggy, I think I did pretty well.


The early morning hours, when the world is at it's most vulnerable and when my thoughts are the most clear. I sat at a Dunkin’ Donuts coffee shop on the corner of East 15th & Avenue M in the Midwood section of Brooklyn this morning on my way to work. There was no time for the hearty breakfast that I usually have and there were only a few minutes to spare, so I opted for something quick: a banana walnut muffin and a cup of French Vanilla coffee.

I sat watching people as they engaged in their morning routines: there were store owners opening up their shops and sweeping the sidewalk, women pushing baby carriages and comforting their fussy little ones and teenagers drawn in by conversation while walking to school. I found my mind racing as I sat in the fuchsia and orange world that was the coffee shop. I stared blankly at my breakfast muffin and pondered the thoughts of these strangers. What do they think of everyday? Does the store owner think that his business is going well based on sales or what he has be told…does the young mother feel competent in her role…does the teenage boy feel inadequate among his friends?

I find it amazing how other people’s opinions of us shape how we think of ourselves. Admittedly, I’ve walked around with other people’s opinions and ideas of who I am my whole life. But as I sat with the remnants of that muffin I couldn’t help but wonder; should atrocities be the only instruments that dictate a life and follow us as a value of our lives? Life is a series of ebbs and flows. We are not our mistakes. It’s like the crumbs of the muffin that was my breakfast. There were many ingredients that came together in making that muffin and everything that contributed to its making is important.

The one crumb that fell away from the muffin doesn't make it any less delicious. Its funny how pastries have played such an integral part of my life lately, as it took my biting into a cupcake to see that I want to be happy and now a muffin and coffee are the eye opener to self acceptance. I am going to be okay and I am in fact a good person, despite the opinion of the world outside this window.

After taking this picture the guy at the table next to me decided to ask if I was working on some sort of project. "Yes", I said "Its called MY LIFE!"

I picked up the last fledgling crumb from the parchement and popped it into my mouth. I honestly feel that although that crumb was not the complete representation of the muffin, the crumb itself was quite good. John Lennon once said that life is what happens while you're busy making other plans, but I venture to guess that the essence of what life can be happens while having a muffin and a cup of coffee.

The Musings Of A Rainy Day

What else can we think about on a dreary day like today, besides wet leaves and soggy shoes? There has to be something out there that would bring a smile to our faces…or at least something with which we can have a giggle. For example, I had to laugh when I found myself caught in the middle of foot traffic gridlock.

They’re doing all this construction in the Wall Street area, and there are barriers and sidewalk detours everywhere. Now it’s bad enough that we have to decipher the arrows and flags that are found along the path, but when we have to walk behind someone who has one of those giant golf umbrellas as they’re traipsing through the city on a tourist jaunt, it becomes too much to handle. It’s times like that when I wish I had a bullhorn: “Yo!!! Get the hell outta my way, you are NOT in Paris and this ain’t the Champs Elysees!!" I stood on my toes looking in front of me while tilting my head from left to right and I could not, for the life of me see what I was walking towards. It was then that the messenger in front of me hopped off his bike. He looked like he was going to call a police officer over for assistance ("Officer, I'd like to report an assault...on my patience!!") or take matters into his own hands. I can understand the need to stay dry in during these deluges of rain, but do you have to have an umbrella that could cover a small country?

Or how about surveying those hurried and rude business men as they make their way from business lunch to business meeting all while walking around with just a copy of the New York Times or the Wall Street Journal as cover from the downpour. I’ve always wondered why it is that in the dead of winter, they choose to wear only flimsy trench coats and fingerless gloves. Am I supposed to believe that their Men’s Wearhouse or Syms business suits are some sort of super hero outfit that protects them from the elements?

The stylish New York woman is no different. I mean, it’s one thing to proclaim your sense of style to the world, but it’s another thing all together to wear suede open toed shoes during a rain storm. Or how about when they walk through puddles on the balls of their feet. Hilarious! Here's a small piece of advice for you all: Manolo Blahniks are NOT waterproof ladies!!

There are a lot of things about watching people dodge raindrops that I find funny, but sometimes being in the rain is the thing that can simply be fun! Amidst all the damp and gloomy sights of the day, it warmed my heart to hear a tiny voice tell the grown-up that she was waddling behind, in her hot pink galoshes, that she loved the rain. I watched as her tiny hand came from underneath her Dora the Explorer umbrella to catch rain drops. She then looked at her hand and seemed a bit bewildered. “Where did the raindrop go?” I’m sure that was her question.

Gene Kelly may have had the right idea during that iconic scene in 1952’s “Singin’ In The Rain” –- who cares if you get soaked to the skin, in this motion picture that we call life, its about taking the time to enjoy it all –- one splash at a time!

The Goodbye

The swirling snow, upon the wind,
As I say farewell to my friend…
Soothes my heart in no small way,
And I feel the cold on this day.
It must have been a day such as this,
Maybe it was snow, maybe the mist…
When we were born so long ago…
But now it’s goodbye, amidst what we know.
A strong man, a gentle man, you have ever been,
In our brief encounter, you became my friend.

There is sadness for having us go through all this,
But I leave you with a simple goodbye kiss.

LHB-2006

Autumn In New York/November

Brooklyn, New York At Sunset In November

November comes
And November goes,
With the last red berries
And the first white snows.

With night coming early,
And dawn coming late,
And ice in the bucket
And frost by the gate.

The fires burn
And the kettles sing,
And earth sinks to rest
Until next spring.

- Clyde Watson (1947 - )