Category Archives: In the Company of Women

A safe place to share joy and sorrow, laughter and tears, triumph and disappointment.

Courage

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photo courtesy of cottage960.com

 

If you think courage is reserved for those running into burning buildings, fighting wars and criminals on the streets I can assure you, you are wrong.  Courage:  mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty, thank you Merriam-Webster.  I had no idea what I would be posting as it’s been quite a roller coaster ride for me this week.

Roller coaster ride or not, I attended a Grand Opening of my dear friends’ new floral design store in White Plains, NY called Bloom Floral Design.  The store is beautiful, centrally located, lots of traffic, nearby parking and they’ve already proven their success at their other store, A Bed of Roses.  But to look at Carl I knew this took courage.  Not trusting or knowing that the Universe is in line with you but going ahead anyway…courage. But should that be the post?

I had my answer when I got home.  I had an email from one of my dearest friends who has applied for a new position; a promotion.  There was a case study to be completed and she aced it.  I knew courage would have to be my post theme.  To take a chance on something new, to put you out there, to consider a move, to leave the comfort of, well, everything takes enormous courage.  I am in awe of her; she is insightful, intelligent, savvy and yet holds compassion in the highest regard.  The exhaustion of putting together the case study on her own left her spent and ready for a sleep that would allow her to let it go.  I know like I know that she will awaken to her very bright future and that I am beyond proud to be her friend.

My sister is embarking on a new lease on life herself.  She’s gone to the gym, come with me to Zumba, taken her health and nutrition, her life back into her own hands after struggling with a loss so deep she couldn’t believe she would ever recover.  She is celebrating a love rather than mourning it, she is taking all the lessons learned and putting them into her daily rounds.  She is reducing her stress and her need to be “the go to person” while not letting go of her caring and thoughtful disposition.  To take these steps forward and on her own…courage.

She has had her share of health issues in the past.  Several surgeries under her belt and I often said to her, that I could not do what she does.  Be brave in the face of threatened health.  I can withstand any amount of stress and pressure you throw at me but to find myself in a hospital would devastate me.  So I thought.  In the past two weeks I have undergone a breast biopsy, a hysteroscopy with the intent of removing polyps and repairing a tear.  I was brave.  I was surprised that I was brave but I found that I too have courage.  More so now that each of these procedures produced that most treasured outcome of, benign.

The ability to summon up mental strength to venture out into a new business, to take a chance on oneself, or to face the realities of getting older all require courage.  Although the courage comes in varying degrees it is nevertheless courage.  Who are we to question what it takes for another to do something they find difficult.  All we can do is stand back and recognize their courage, tell them we are there for them, whether or not they want us is up to them.  In the past two weeks I have learned what courage is and how to recognize it more easily.  It is all around me and I while I am grateful for those doing the fighting on our behalf I am more grateful to have the lessons from those living the moments of every day courage all around us.

Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear. ~Ambrose Redmoon

 

I Know Like I Know 2012

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I guess I’ve got a way of looking at things that’s a little different than most. So many of the people I’ve talked to recently are soooo glad that 2012 is over.  They swear it was the worst ever.  I had this, I had that.  I couldn’t wait for this year to be over sadly wishing it so.

Someone I know has a friend that reminds them never to wish time away. I agree, so as I look around at the end of 2012 all I see are little moments, momentum and mostly healing.

Beginning in January, with an Angel in the audience of Wicked, we were touched by a stranger that set my sister’s true healing in motion.  Here was another person who knew her pain but had the courage to walk up and let her know you will be ok, you will always have him and you can go on.  Keep your touchstone it will move you forward when you are stuck. This courage was transferred to my Sister when she became mentor of the year of firsts for her friend Linda.

In the same day, my dearest friend suffered a skiing accident that provided an epiphany of sorts that set her on the road to growth, of both those broken legs and the spirit she had put aside.  Then my summer sister came to the end of her chemo sessions and triumphantly had her “port” removed shortly before coming to the Cape for a wonderful little vacation.  There,we three women talked and laughed and walked and read and ate and cooked and enjoyed each other’s company.  We created a calm and healing three days that restored me from all the burdens I had been carrying on their behalf.  I could let it all go, they would be fine.

Finally healed from a long resistant infection my mother acquiesced to cataract surgery.  Miracle of miracles she can see so beautifully now she’s picked up, after so many long years, her love of books.   My friends Linda and Corrine would also battle infections that were potentially life threatening through to the end with grace and kvetching and bitching and moaning and gratitude and relief.  They are both in good places now with only the usual aches and pains of everyday life.

My people are fine. For all their little inconveniences, neighborhood disputes, crazy kids and work and struggle they are fine.  They are thriving, I can tell by the intensity of bitching going on.  It’s been greatly reduced, quiet even.  Is that gratitude in the air?  Nah, just a temporary lapse in things to bitch about; or a full on awareness that I don’t suffer bad energy any more.  They will bring good momentum in spite of themselves.

My little moments happened on my deck, on Sunday mornings, in convertibles, lunching with good friends, on my walks, reading my books and writing my tiny little blog.  My big moments happened when I became one of two Aunts to a little puggle named Chevy, when I had coffee with my Father during a Hurricane named Sandy and when the transformation of my home was completed.

There was some contest that promised as its prize; $10,000 and a Handyman for a Week.  I never entered the sweepstakes but thought, yeah that’s all I need.  Yeah, 10k and a handyman for a week, let me keep that out there. This is the point where my sister says, “Of course you did”.  Months later a flyer on my door, a revelation from my Mother that you should have this while I’m alive, and my bathrooms are complete. (Of course they are.)  Add to that the fan that hangs on my deck, the newly tiled foyer and my handyman turned good friend and this was a banner year on Stowe Lane.  Everywhere I look in my home I am happy.  Two wonderful compliments came our (meaning mine and my home’s) way recently, “your home is so three dimensional” and another friend walked in for the first time and said, “I knew it would look like this”.  Nothing makes me smile (MMS) more than being comfortable, safe and surrounded by the history in my home and sharing that history with anyone who enters.

Sadly we lost Gramma Velda this year, and the only man Nicole really knew as a father, and Linda lost her Burt, and Mick lost his Sassy.  We said farewell to adults, and dogs and children we didn’t even know but who touched our hearts quite deeply.

Yet I believe this was a wonderful year.  For all that can ever go wrong, nothing that couldn’t be surmounted ever did.  For all that did happen, silver linings and happy endings are making their way into our hearts.  Good health is being restored and strengthened, community is being fortified, and work is meaningful and thankfully abundant.

Healing can take many forms, it can happen without your ever even realizing it, it can happen slowly, it can happen with epiphanies and it can happen when you least expect it.  But it can only truly happen when you can finally see it. I know like I know that I am blessed to be among you and wish you continued momentum, little moments and the vision to see the proof that healing is always right before your very eyes.

“Some people see scars, and it is wounding they remember. To me they are proof of the fact that there is healing.”
― Linda Hogan

 

 

 

Les Mis

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We have long ago forgone the extravagant gifts at Christmas for time together.  We realize the significance of time more than most so my sister’s gift to me for Christmas was two hours and thirty eight minutes of Les Miserables, the movie.  Yeah, us and all the Jews.  They, who relish the movies on Christmas Day, were none too happy that we were invading their bastion of tradition in droves.  To the point of sold out showings, everywhere.

My sister went early to get the tickets.  She knows I am a fan.  Don’t think the folly of the hundreds spent on seeing this show four times on Broadway is lost on me.  I don’t care.  Each time I saw it I was moved to tears and brought to my feet as if it was the first time.  So expectations were high, well not so much as the trailer and the coming attractions and commercials brought goose bumps and welling in advance.

I could not have had a better seat, last row, and last seat all the way to the right of the screen.  No one in front of me and several fans in the same row.  Make no mistake this is a movie for fans.  The reviews have been mixed but the fans turned out in record numbers for an opening showing…on Christmas Day.

Tom Hooper’s direction is fabulous, his innovation in recording the singing live while filming is perfect even if all the notes aren’t, yes Russell we’re talking to you but who the hell would expect Javert to be able to sing anyway.  I love Hugh Jackman as Jean Valjean, and Ann Hathaway’s one take wonder of “I Dreamed a Dream” started everyone down the path of smeared mascara and sniffing.  I didn’t risk tissues for this movie but had a trusty faded bandana to weep and snivel into, so clever am I.

Yes, that was Colm Wilkinson as the priest who saves Jean Valjean from going back to prison.  He is my all-time favorite Jean Valjean, ever. And I did see him (twice) on Broadway, so the nuance of him setting Jean Valjean on the path of righteousness was a brilliant cameo pick in my mind.  Too much, have I said who cares enough yet?

I thought the casting was perfect, each bringing their acting/singing abilities with them toward a musical as much acted as sung.  I love the firsts, the technology, the live singing, and the true to the original feel of a movie make of a beloved Broadway show.

To say I was a mess at the end of this movie is an understatement.  My bandana could be wrung out. Whatever the critics say the hell with them.  The audience applauded the finale, and I must say I didn’t know how Tom was going to get Hugh into the final number from…well you know, but he did.  I loved this movie, I loved sitting in a dark theater knowing my sister was right next to me, keeping an eye on me as I brushed the tears away.  I will own this movie and watch it over and over finding something new to love each time including the memory of a Christmas spent with my sister.

 

 

 

Mincemeat Pies

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At this very moment I am diving into a tiny mincemeat piece of deliciousness made with love by my friend Jan Riley.  It would have been more than enough to enjoy lunch with her and David yesterday at our usual spot but in she came with this Christmas goodie straight out of her past and mine.

My father loved mincemeat pies and my mother could make a pretty good one albeit with None Such Mincemeat filling.  It was a bit foreign to the Italian side of things at our house but my father, or should I say his parents, being Scottish was quite familiar with the savory/sweet deliciousness.  He pretty much had the entire pie to himself until we eventually caught on.

The recipe for these little tarts comes straight out of Mrs. Beeton’s Book of Household Management.  This indispensable handbook of many a newly married woman was originally published back in 1861.  Jan and I have had, and continue to have, quite the laugh about this book whenever we mention it.

Mrs. Beeton from the preface:  I must frankly own, that if I had known, beforehand, that this book would have cost me the labour which it has, I should never have been courageous enough to commence it. What moved me, in the first instance, to attempt a work like this, was the discomfort and suffering which I had seen brought upon men and women by household mismanagement. I have always thought that there is no more fruitful source of family discontent than a housewife’s badly-cooked dinners and untidy ways. Men are now so well served out of doors,—at their clubs, well-ordered taverns, and dining-houses, that in order to compete with the attractions of these places, a mistress must be thoroughly acquainted with the theory and practice of cookery, as well as be perfectly conversant with all the other arts of making and keeping a comfortable home.

Yeah.  Right.  That said it is still indispensable today and while the domestic side of running a home has changed dramatically the recipes are as contemporary as they’ve always been.  And Jan and her legacy would be lost without them.  This little taste of what my grandparents must have enjoyed back in Scotland and this little moment of “coffee and..” with my father is making an otherwise cold, windy and grey day quite a bit brighter. The real gift, however, is the memory of my father and his heritage and the warmth my dear friend has provided.  Merry Christmas Jan.

So laugh if you must, from my internet copy (yes Mrs. Beeton has a website) of Mrs. Beeton’s Book of Household Management, Chapter 27, the recipe for “Excellent Mincemeat” and the delicious little pies.  I’ll need Jan to translate a few things…

EXCELLENT MINCEMEAT.1310. INGREDIENTS – 3 large lemons, 3 large apples, 1 lb. of stoned raisins, 1 lb. of currants, 1 lb. of suet, 2 lbs. of moist sugar, 1 oz. of sliced candied citron, 1 oz. of sliced candied orange-peel, and the same quantity of lemon-peel, 1 teacupful of brandy, 2 tablespoonfuls of orange marmalade.

Mode.—Grate the rinds of the lemons; squeeze out the juice, strain it, and boil the remainder of the lemons until tender enough to pulp or chop very finely. Then add to this pulp the apples, which should be baked, and their skins and cores removed; put in the remaining ingredients one by one, and, as they are added, mix everything very thoroughly together. Put the mincemeat into a stone jar with a closely-fitting lid, and in a fortnight it will be ready for use.

Seasonable.—This should be made the first or second week in December.

MINCE PIES.

1311. INGREDIENTS – Good puff-paste No. 1205, mincemeat No. 1309.

Mode.—Make some good puff-paste by recipe No. 1205; roll it out to the thickness of about 1/4 inch, and line some good-sized pattypans with it; fill them with mincemeat, cover with the paste, and cut it off all round close to the edge of the tin. Put the pies into a brisk oven, to draw the paste up, and bake for 25 minutes, or longer, should the pies be very large; brush them over with the white of an egg, beaten with the blade of a knife to a stiff froth; sprinkle over pounded sugar, and put them into the oven for a minute or two, to dry the egg; dish the pies on a white d’oyley, and serve hot. They may be merely sprinkled with pounded sugar instead of being glazed, when that mode is preferred. To re-warm them, put the pies on the pattypans, and let them remain in the oven for 10 minutes or 1/4 hour, and they will be almost as good as if freshly made.

Time.—25 to 30 minutes; 10 minutes to re-warm them.

Average cost, 4d. each.

Sufficient—1/2 lb. of paste for 4 pies. Seasonable at Christmas time.

 

 

Pinky Swear

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Once the mainstay of all promises adolescent, I wonder is the pinky swear dead?  This was the outward consummation of all promises that were binding for life.  It cannot be broken by anything including the crossing of fingers and toes.  Press your thumbs together at the end while stating the promise and the deal is sealed.   It became the pinky swear because if you didn’t live up to your promise you risked having your pinky cut off.  The good news is that if a pinky swear is broken all bets are off; you owe that person nothing from the past or going forward.

Can one make a pinky swear by phone?  By email? By text? Do the words pinky swear in themselves cement a deal?  I wonder.  I’d like to think that one can make a pinky swear by text as it’s one of the ways I’ve been trying to get my dear friend back to her fitness class.  She’s stuck, or discouraged, or something, surely not just lazy.  Truth be told, she’s fun, entertaining, full of stories and I miss her.  I should check my motivation, I guess, because I’m a bit tired of going to class alone.  It takes more and more to motivate myself as the days grow shorter and the wind gets colder.  Staying home with a glass of wine and a good book is ever more tempting.  But I go.

I believe in the power of a pinky swear and I hope that she decides that her health and the continued camaraderie of good friends, good music and increased energy is more important than a glass of wine and a good book.  Besides, I don’t know how much longer I can make it on my own.  Baby its cold outside.