“The details are not the details. They make the design.”
Every once in a while as I’m travelling around the city, I look at people around me and then imagine them gone. (And, no, I’m not doing this on crowded subway trains when I’m wishing for an empty seat!) Macabre as it sounds, this little shift in perspective usually leaves me with a sense of compassion and purpose.
Say a few more “I love you’s.”
Take the time to just listen.
Share a laugh.
Celebrate baby steps.
(And sympathize with the falls.)
Hold on to something dearly.
And know when to let go.
And, that I believe, is what makes the ride truly meaningful.
I have a prized orchid – prized because I love it – not because it’s a super exotic variety. Ever since we were given it by a friend, it has bloomed regularly just after the holidays. The blooms last for about 6 months, and then the plant goes dormant for another 6.
But one of the reasons why I prize it is because when we were given the plant it only had ONE stalk of blooms. Now it regularly produces TWO.
I think it’s my husband’s fault, actually. He accidentally decapitated both stalks one summer when he closed the curtains. I was devastated (he thought the marriage might be over) but my mom declared that the plant probably needed pruning and would be better off for it.
And you know, I think she was right!
With ballet season well underway, my husband and I are back to a 6-day-a-week, pretty much non-stop work schedule. Our dinner hour is often 11 p.m., and carving out time for each other during the day is usually impossible. So that’s why lunch yesterday was so special.
When rehearsal finished at 2 p.m., we walked a few short blocks south to one of our new favorite haunts…
Where the booths are clean and comfortable…
And the ambiance is bright, cheery and inviting.
At 2 p.m. the lunch rush was over and the bar was deserted.
Which gave me a chance to zoom in on the jar of house-made Buddha’s Hand liqueur (I still think it looks like addled brains).
(My husband’s brain, on the other hand, is anything but, so lunch conversation was lively and interesting.)
Once our food arrived, though, we chowed down since we were both famished.
(Our salads were delicious, and we’ll be back for another meal soon!)
New York City real estate…aah, the choices we make. If I could wave a fairy wand, we would live in a glorious architectural gem on New York’s Upper West Side. But since fairy wands were on back-order when we moved to the city, the only part of the wish that was granted was that we found an apartment on the Upper West Side. Our building is nothing to look at; however, since we live in it, we don’t have to look at it.
Fortunately, our view is actually quite pleasant. The first year I delighted in pretending that we lived across from a Swiss chalet – not such a stretch when the weather was doing this.
I’m pretty sure that if Benjamin Franklin had been a New Yorker he would have said “In this world, nothing can be said to be certain, except death, taxes and CONSTRUCTION.” As it happened, just a short time after we moved here, up went scaffolding and a shroud and away went our view.
I suppose you’re thinking “She must not have anything to write about!” (only partly true) but after a year of nothing progressing except the gradual darkening of the once white shroud, work finally began this past spring and concluded this week.
Like the unwrapping of a giant gift, the shroud and scaffolding started to come down two days ago…
And I’ve been enjoying the progress (not to mention that I like the white paint and spiffy copper drain pipes!)
It’s slow going (that’s a lot of scaffolding), but the workers seem pretty tireless and fearless. From my vantage point they look like ants…
(And in case you’re searching for a good model of camera, here’s what the zoom on my Panasonic Lumix can do!)