Last Saturday I had the privilege of being invited to my friend and former co-worker Nicole's and her boyfriend Doug's annual Robert Burns birthday dinner. Burns was a famous Scottish poet and the writer of "Auld Lang Syne" and this year was the 250th anniversary of his birth. Nicole & Doug generously had 70 of their closest friends over to Doug's loft for a celebration so elaborate that they hired two interns off of Craigslist to help them set up, decorate, cook and serve the traditional haggis dinner and some stews.
There were even programs.
Everyone invited was required to wear at least one article of plaid and bring either whiskey or a winter ale. Needless to say, I was excited about this soirèe. People started gathering at about 9pm and there were so many folks that some had to sit upstairs.
There was much socializing to be done, many new people to meet.
Doug was wearing a full-on authentic kilt. Every time he'd go up the stairs, a bunch of people would crane their necks to find out what he was wearing underneath.
Sure, I was one of them - for photojournalistic purposes only.
Before dinner was served, Nicole broke out her accordion as their friend, whose name escapes me, stood and read his "Ode To Whiskey."
Stephanie, Nicole and an intern served up some stew.
I did try a bite of the haggis, yes it was nasty. But I can see how people would have eaten it long ago, say, before McDonald's.
Nicole and Doug spun some accordion-and-bagpipe music via iTunes.
Here is where I must explain the insane photos of this post. I have a major problem with dim lighting and flash settings. That night I was using a setting which uses flash, but then the shutter stays open a little extra long to allow the flash to travel. Thus...
Weird, cool, sometimes bad photos. But anyway... throughout dinner there were several toasts and odes, all introduced by Doug and his stupendous bagpipe accompaniment.
Two notable, original odes were by the beautiful Jelsen with his "Ode To The Lassies"...
(which captured the guests' rapt attention)
and Mary, who followed with a "Response to the Laddies." She was super-long-plaid-legged.
Then the performance of the night: Nicole and Steph did a duet of "My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose."
They had a hard time harmonizing, ha ha! But we thought they were stellar nonetheless.
I think it was the shoes/tights that really made it.
Of course, Doug aptly accompanied them on the accordion.
Throughout the night, Steph applied her stellar photography skills.
I highly recommend you see her take on the party on her website.
Once dinner was over, we all gathered in the living room/soon-to-be-dance-floor and joined hands, I think to sing "Auld Lang Syne."
Then it was time to break out the disco ball. And we all know what that means.
Crazy dancing times!
And equally crazy photo times!
We even set up a traditional dance where two people link arms and dance around (not unlike a hoe-down) and then switch partners. I even volunteered to be a link-and-dancer! (I do not have photos of myself dancing, that would be a terrible idea.)
One thing I must say, Brooklynites know how to bust a move.
We could all feel the love in the January air.
A fantabulous time was had by all... a rowdy night we won't soon forget.
I recently went to the dentist. He's located on Central Park South and I had to walk along the lower part of the Park from the subway to get there. In the winter, it's easy to avoid all outdoor activities one would enjoy in finer weather (such as walking in the park), but that morning I found that maybe I should be a little more open to traversing the snowy banks of one Central Park during the winter.
I just love how the morning sun shines on one side of each tree. Can you see it in the distant trees?
I tell ya, the view from this dentist's chair is far superior to the view from my childhood dentist, whose windows looked out to... Southern Avenue.
After I learned I will have to have my wisdom teeth out (eek!), I walked the rest of the way to work, passing Bergdorf Goodman and their always-amazing window displays. This one was my favorite, for reasons that should be self-evident.
Tuesday, the whole world seemed to stop at noon. At the office, everyone gathered in the kitchen to watch history happen.
We watched with bated breath, happiness, pride, and hope.
I loved this lower-third.
Then it was time for the official moment...
And when it was over, everyone applauded. It's a wonderful thing to applaud to someone miles away, whether they can hear you or not, and to know that millions of people all over the world are applauding at the exact same moment.
In a cab that night, I looked out the window and, for the first time since I moved to New York, felt that the world was right... or was closer to right, anyway. The buildings seemed to gleam brighter, and I slept better than I had in a long time.
This weekend was dang chilly, and I'm not talking about the delicious winter meal that my mom makes so delectably. I'm talking snow-fallin', winter-blizzardin' chilly. The deceptive kind of cold that doesn't feel that bad at first, because it's not windy, but after a few blocks you realize damn! It IS cold! I awoke to the most beautiful wintry sight outside my window.
This sweet li'l bird must have lost its ticket south.
But by Sunday the snow had melted and everything was just gleaming. That's the thing about New York winters (or, rather, winters outside of Arizona? I don't know): the cold, the cold itself, is bright. It bounces off the treetops and the store signs and the windows and into your eyes. Maybe it's because the snow partially melts, then freezes again with a coat of glistening ice over the snow. But it happens even when it's crystal clear out. At four o'clock, when the sun begins to go down and everything begins to glow with golden iciness, you think the sun may just be lasering the city into submission.
Ooh! Good news! I finally got a desk. I have thus far been using a few storage crates and a board as a makeshift desk, but my mom very generously donated to my "writer's desk fund" at Christmas and so I've been on the hunt. As with most things and people in my life, I am very particular about what I want in a desk. And, as with many things and people in my life, after awhile I'd found many possibilities but none that I felt right about. As with apartments and men and music for editing, I held a firm belief that when the right one came along, I'd know it right away.
And I did.
I went, for the 20th time, to the Housing Works on 17th Street. I've had a lot of good luck there, and they always have a lot of good furniture. (It's in Chelsea, so...) But they didn't have anything I wanted, and after about 2 and a half minutes in the store, I walked out. I wandered over to this flea market a block away, not expecting to get a desk, as their furniture is usually more expensive than I'd prefer... I actually wanted to see if they had any typewriters. I saw one there once that I should have bought upon sight (non-buyer's remorse). I wandered around and my eyes immediately fell upon this desk. I saw no other desk in the collection of dozens of pieces of furniture. There may have been some, but my eyes didn't see them. I only saw this.
Do you notice how remarkably it fits in the space I've created for it? It was well within my budget and they offered cheap, prompt delivery. In perfect condition save for one missing handle. Multiple drawers, not to mention the most gorgeous deep mahogany wood and art deco moulding and handles and... and... wheels on the feet! It is where I will record many lovely words, muse on the nature of life and love, and gaze out the window while the summer breeze brings in echoing notes from the trumpet player on the end of the block. It's where I will store pens and pencils and my notebooks and postcards and letters from loved ones. It was meant to be mine.
Whilst in Arizona, I was overtaken by the urge to do something I never do: cook. Well, bake. Well, "make things not from a box." I made a bunch of things: pancakes (obviously), a banana cream pie, Manhattan cocktails, even rocky road candy.
After my day with Grandma, Mom picked me up and we headed over to the Desert Botanical Gardens for the Chihuly exhibit. I've been familiar with Dale Chihuly's work for a long time; we ran a piece on him when I used to work on "Horizon" and I wrote an article about him for Epic Places magazine. He had an exhibit at the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens a couple of years ago that I enjoyed; this time I got to experience it with my whole family in the desert.
As we drove along, approaching the Gardens, all of a sudden this glowing golden cactus rose up before us: the first piece.
We arrived and I was happily reminded of one of the only things I love about Arizona: the splendid sunsets. This is my new desktop background.
We had arrived at just the right time, as we were able to enjoy some of the displays during the final hours of the day and some at night.
I love this one; it makes me think of Medusa. I think it's called "The Sun."
The attendees were agog.
This was another lovely one; sort of like... Earth with hurricanes.
Soon we made our way toward that glowing cactus, which was lit from within and buzzing incessantly.
It made us all glow with it.
As we walked around the grounds, peeps of shining lovely beds of glass works would come into view, rather mischievously.
Or perhaps a boat floating in a dry river of rocks.
Eventually you wind around and this structure with a dozen pieces is before you.
Including this cool weird chandelier.
I loved this dangling blue one and I love the people standing in front of it.
And I love the shadows it throws upon the ceiling.
Then we wrapped back around to the beginning, "The Sun" shining brightly, delicately, for us.
We headed home and ate my glorious banana cream pie. Even my brothers gave their approval, saying "It tastes just like Grandma's." What a compliment!
The rest of my trip was spent enjoying family times.
Home times.
Arizona winter times.
Tom even made us French-press coffee. I'll give you one guess as to which mug is mine.
The best day I had in Arizona was the one I spent with my grandma. Just before Thanksgiving I asked her if she could send me her recipe for Banana Cream Pie, a legendary dessert in our family. Everyone goes nuts over it and I hadn't had it in four years.
She said, "Well, if YOU were going to make it you'd probably just use some vanilla pudding and bananas and a crust; you can buy one in the store already made!" I sighed and said, "Yes, but I want to know how YOU make it. So that someday I'll be able to make pies just like you." So we decided that on my visit to AZ we'd have a day for just the two of us so we could make one together.
It was a wonderful day we spent together. We made everything from scratch and she taught me little tricks about baking that I never knew, things like... one shouldn't pack flour; how to properly, evenly press graham cracker crust; how to temper eggs.
While we waited for the pudding to cool, Grandma made me a Swiss Tuna Melt and I wandered around her house, looking at her photographs and grandmotherly things with new eyes, the eyes of a grown grandchild.
Her two daughters and her mother.
Lovely, lovely woman she was.
Her worn, well-used recipe book (one of many).
Her wedding photo. It's hung in the same spot my whole life, yet I'd never actually looked at it until that day.
After lunch, back to whipping and stirring and whisking it was. For the most part, Grandma would just tell me what to do and watch, and correct. But for this part she needed to show me.
Before I knew it, our pie was ready, perfect and beautiful! I could just eat it right now! If only I had Smell-O-Vision.
It was lovely to spend the whole day with her, just the two of us. She gave me a strong appreciation for the pie-makin' process and I even got an apron out of it. There's no one like my Grandma.
Christmas morning arrived and we started the day as we usually do on December 25th... Mom played Santa and distributed gifts one by one.
We all got lovely things. (and some non-things, like charitable donations made in our name to charities that favor our interests - mine was given to an organization that integrates art and music into the lives of at-risk kids.)
This book, "As A Gentleman Would Say," was a great gift for the boys. Luckily, Greg didn't take offense.
Speaking of books, I got a wonderful one from Greg entitled "Other People's Love Letters." It's exactly what it sounds like, and I adore it.
Greg got a new camera.
Probably the best gift was from Mom and Tom, who gave us each iPhoto books detailing this year's vacation to Hawai'i, each one unique to its recipient.
You didn't think we'd forget Zoe, did you?
Ho no! Mom took as much delight (possibly more) in giving Zoe some toys as Zoe did in receiving them.
"What is this? What is this? It's for YOU!"
Then we had our usual post-gifting eating extravaganza.
Bacon, eggs, hash browns, toast, O.J.
After breakfast, the boys went to see "Gran Torino" while Mom and I did some baking. More on that later. By then it was just us girls. Zoe and I looked out to the rainy Arizona Christmas.
Mom and I compared pedicures. Just as we took this shot, Zoe decided to get in on the action.
That night we had Mom's side of the family over for Christmas dinner. After a long day (and stressful season as a whole), I made Mom a Manhattan. I've never made one before. They were delicious.
Aunt Marsha and her kids were over, and soon the dinner-ing began.
Grandma and Greg, and the rest of us chatted in the living room.
At one point while I was sitting next to Grandma, something caught my peripheral vision. I looked over and she was very casually donning this flashing ring, twinkling in all neon shades of reds, purples and blues.
"Who, me? I don't know what you're talking about!"
After dinner we continued the gifting. I love watching my Grandma's face when she opens a gift.
Whew. What a day. We were all tuckered out after that.
The first day or two in Arizona, I didn't take many photos. There is no photographic evidence of my arrival, my making pancakes the first morning, my night out with Kerri, or my visit with my Dad's side of the family at Grandma's house. However, I did take this photo of my new vintage holiday skirt (given to me by a coworker) and my equally holiday-y flower ring.
Nathan had driven from Texas and brought his dog Zoe for us all to meet. She is the star of the next several blog entries and roughly 75% of my photos from the trip. After Grandma's house, my brothers and I gathered around her to play and, you know, do dog stuff.
She's so adorable! By the end of her visit, she'd made both me and Tom want a dog.
Greg, who lived with Nathan in Austin for the first several months Zoe was around, was ecstatic to see her again and play backyard games with her.
She's so fast that usually it's hard to capture her once she takes off running.
Zoe was excited to take a ride with the boys and me to our Dad's house for a sleepover/campfire/movie-watching night. She's very well-behaved in the car.
Although a bit of a backseat driver if you ask me.
At Dad's we got our annual family photo taken by Dana.
Then a full family photo WITH Dana, although that was only taken with Dad's cam on a timer.
We were supposed to go fishing, which I was overly excited about because I haven't been fishing in a decade. But it was supposed to rain so we went on a walk around the neighborhood instead and made it an inside night.
And bonded with Zoe.
I caught these two in an intimate moment.
We played some games in the late afternoon sun.
We tried Dad's homemade beer, a photo for which Greg was less than enthused.
The rest of the night was filled with sitting around their outdoor fireplace and getting caught up on each others' lives, exchanging gifts and watching "The Dark Knight."
Let us make one thing clear: PS260 does not mess around when it comes to Christmas parties. In previous years we've done everything from private karaoke parties to scavenger hunts, but this year they wouldn't tell us where we were going, only that we had to dress up, preferably "somewhere between suburban prom and mafia wedding."
We got there by bus. This is how serious they were about surprising us.
We ended up at The National, a Russian dinner/dance hall with awesomely awful music, food, and live entertainment. I will spare you the numerous photos of my coworkers and me dancing to early '90s pop music, but I will tell you this. I had my first taste of caviar.
Well, maybe a few photos of us dancing. Oh you BET there was dancing. Every single one of my bosses and coworkers ALL dancing AT THE SAME TIME. Amazing.
Evann's boyfriend even took pity on me and swung me around a few times on the dance floor.
This was one of the singers. Oh Lordy.
Need I say that we got rowdy? I don't think so, when this photo illustrates the point quite nicely.
Did I mention that we all drank straight vodka all night? I work for the coolest company in the whole world.
I highly recommend you see her take on the party on her website.
I highly recommend you see her take on the party on her website.
