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I moved out of the “country” house five days ago. And for most of the days since, I have cried my self to sleep. It’s like a bad break up with out the hopes of really good make-up sex.
I knew I was attached to the house, in all of its colorful glory. I knew that I had fallen in love with “the country.” I especially knew how important my “country” friends had become. They are my family, even more so than some blood. We chose to be together.
A series of unfortunate events left me without a lot of choices. And at 30, one has to decide to put some things first. As an unattached babyless renter, your career tends to be the right choice. So I decided to pack up my things and move back to Long Island. For a reorg. A proper job search back in the city. And maybe even a recharge, refocus, regroup.
Dear friends in San Francisco insisted on a visit once the move was over. Smart move. I’ve been in the other coast for a few days now and I for the first time last night I didn’t shed a tear when my head hit the pillow. I was okay. Maybe the bedtime tears have run out. I know the talking about the roommate and the house tears have not. They are still strong and uninterrupted.
So, as the many many many decisions still need to be made as to what is next, there are a few things that are certain:
- My heart is fuller than it has ever been before.
- I am absolutely in love with the Hudson Valley.
- I will carefully look into all career moves with diligence and the emphasis on the right fit.
And I will absolutely continue to believe in my Nana’s words of wisdom, “Thea, you imagine it and then you make it happen.”
This year I hope to…
Increase DIYing, from sauces and breads to time capsules, pasta and rooster sauce and maybe even some coffee liqueur.
Travel.
Conquer everything on Bon Appetite’s 25 things… thinking the biggest challenge is going to be Tasmania.
Be comfortable in a bathing suit on my 30th birthday.
Step out of my comfort zone just because.
Learn how to type on t he new iPhone with only minimal auto-corrects.
Conquer my first class… as a… professor.
Take more pictures.
Enjoy and get to know Pinterest, Hipstomatic and my google reader better.
Get published in a food publication, online version would suffice.
Limit the people in my life who don’t value our friendship as much as I do and practice what I preach, all relationships have to be mutually beneficial at some point or another.
Accomplish at least five of these financial tips.
Dance around in my underwear [more].
Make parmesan crusted goat cheese with basil oil, spiced chai concentrate, vanilla bean syrup, and pork crown roast.
“The best thing about the future is that it comes one day at a time.” ~ Abraham Lincoln
I’m treating my two-year “country” anniversary much like I treat my online dating profile… laundry lists and hopeful daydreaming.
Likes: clean air, baking, trees, the colorful house in Pdub, clear plastic wrap in a box on the counter, really good friends, local brews, cheese, bread, wine, kundalini yoga with Alli at Sacred Space, a porch where the Adirondack chairs sit nicely, mediation and Reiki
Dislikes: lack of 4 am bars / pizza / cabs / city friends / diversity, the baby sister always being at least two hours away, the persistent, “Why did you more here?” questioning, driving in really bad snow, basements with water in them, bugs, wild and most domestic animals, car trouble and not being able to speak car
For fun: Waterfalls, swimming holes, dancing at Bard in the summer, skiing Hunter mountain in the winter, snowshoes, farmers markets, Warren Cutlery and wing nights at Max’s
Interests: Getting smarter, braver, smaller and happier
Exercise habits: yoga, gym against my will, walking and laughing
Favorite hot spots: Keegan Ales in Kingston, 36 Main in New Paltz, Club Helsinki in Hudson and Mercato in Red Hook
Favorite things: cucumbers and tomatoes growing in the yard, meeting Melissa Leo before Tuesday’s showing of Dear Lemon Lema at the Rosendale Theater, Sunday night dinners with a full dinning room table, saying good morning to the Hudson River everyday, Hudson Manhattan Rye Whiskey and winning a free Hudson Whiskey t-shirt from Tutilltown Distillery as they hit 10k fans on Facebook, kitchen appliances (most important of them all is the KitchenAid mixer) and the roommate when we are in the routine of the week, learning to trust again and updates with the baby sister
What I am looking for: more sunsets over the Hudson, someone to go on roadtrips with, more motivation to frequent the gym, financial security (will settle for lack of financial anxiety)
My relationship with the country has come along way in the last two years and yet, I continue to be a city mouse in the country wondering what is next on the agenda.
“All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better. ” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
This city mouse is approaching two years living in the “country” and would like to know when did THAT happen? It must have been somewhere in between food adventures. A wonderful brunch has taken place at Dolce, down by the Roundout.
Dolce’s menu is full of sweet and savory crepes, sandwiches and salads. Dinning with my roommate allows sharing and trying. I ordered the spinach and brie crepe and he ordered the BLT with avocado. upon arrival, the crepe looked like the right size, shape and color.
Um… yum.
“If you’re afraid of butter, use cream.” ~ Julia Child
Attending the first ever Ramp Fest in Hudson, NY was a moment of clarity in being a “foodie.” It was an amazing compilation of food, friends, music, drinks and RAMPS. For those who need a lil background on ramps, please check out this, this and this.
The most amazing ramp focaccia served with ramp butter from the not yet opened Cafe Le Perche in Hudson, NY. Meeting the executive chef Lisa Brickman was an awesome experience and her enthusiasm for the new bakery and restaurant was infectious. I can not wait to go visit Lisa and her team in June at their boulangerie, bar and patisserie
Fatty ‘Cue in New York City brought one of my most favorite things to the table. Sidebar: one of my favorite cocktail scientists, Jason Littrell, first served me a pickleback while throwing drinks at The Randolph. Jason said, first drink this and then drink that. I did what I was told. And have never been the same. Seeing the two piles of shot glasses lined up, I had a hunch that the guys at Fatty ‘Cue were serving up a treat. Ramp infused pickle juice in the ‘this’ and Wild Turkey whiskey in the ‘that.’
The guys at Fatty ‘Cue / Fatty Crab also served a ramp curry goat dish that was pretty intense.
I think chicken sausage can only be made better by adding ramps.
The classic beggar’s purse tied with ramps, now you are speaking my language.
Dessert can go wrong when adding an onion based flavor, but hey, the guys at Da Ba did it right with ramp lime sorbet. The executive chef told me they serve a sorbet before the final cheese course. I heart cheese.
The steamed clam from great people at The Fat Radish in NYC was wrapped in ramps, peas and white wine. It was delish and wonderful and light. The presentation in the clam shell was perfect for a finger food.
Foodies! at the beautiful Basilica Hudson in Hudson, NY.
After leaving the Ramp Fest, all high on ramps, I went to Adam’s Fairacre Farms. Once of my most favorite markets to shop. And there for all $11.99 a pound, we my ramps (here soaking off the dirt). Let the ramp-ing begin.
“Imagination is the real and eternal world of which this vegetable universe is but a faint shadow.” ~ William Blake
1. I want to go to Cheese Louise on Route 28 in Kingston. Thanks to Hudson Valley Good Stuff, I came across a new CHEESE store. Cheese and store and new. All in one sentence.
2. I want to order photo note pads. For everyone. Thanks to Joanna at Cup of Jo, who recently posted about Pinhole Press, I will be ordering the ultimate list pad. I just have to decide on a picture. That’s the hard part.
3. I want to eat at 36 Main. My dear friend Derek is the bartender there and after tasting their amazing wine list and signature cocktails, I need to taste the menu. Chef Adam Steinberg creates interesting and dynamic dinner choices such as Bresaola, a Italian-cured beef, soft goat cheese dressing, baby Arugula and white truffle oil and Orecchietta Fontal, a house-made pasta, creamy Bechamel, wild mushrooms and broccoli raab. I’m coming Derek, I promise.
4. I want to drink a Hemingway Sidecar at Shadows on the Hudson in Poughkeepsie. Apparently the bar is known for the large televisions on the wall and some younger than desired clientele, but the fancy cocktail menu reminds me of my favorite hole-in-the-walls in the city that I miss 0-so-much.
5. I want to shop at Dig in Saugerties. They have cute clothes in the window. Enough to peak my interest. And on more than one occasion I have asked a girl in a cute top where did she get it and the answer has been, “Dig.”
My life seems to be on ff (fast forward). I would like to slow it down. I am going to work on that for the month of December.
And remembering that the last 11 months were full. Really full. And fast. Too fast.
I went to yoga for New Year’s Eve and brought 2011 in peacefully, quietly and wonderfully.
There was skiing, three 30th birthdays, gym, yoga and football.
I turned 28 in February and became a redhead.
I made homemade fortune cookies.
We saw Michael Franti and Spearhead and John Mayer at Madison Square Garden.
We celebrated Kim’s 30th in March. In Europe. With Dave. Nothing and everything was the same after that trip.
We saw Billy Joel and Elton John in Albany.
I ran the Shamrock Run. First and last race of the year.
There was yoga, birthdays, Artisnal cocktails and blind dates.
There was Team Pixie Dust dinner dance and Passover. For 20.
April brought bonfires, yoga, ACS gala, tres leche.
I took a Photoshop course, through a surprise party for my brother at Mercato and went to LA.
In May we went and met the Mendelsen men. It’s a choir. And we love them.
I got new couches, went to meditation, heard Nacirema, drank Grey Dog raspberry ice tea.
I signed a lease.
I cooked ramps.
Went on a booze cruise which lead to changing roles, rules and expectations. Thank you Universe for teaching without hurting too much.
And then I moved. In. With. A. Boy. Roommate.
Had my first and only deer encounter. “Welcome to the country,” I was told.
Went to Dave.
And Mountain Jam.
Baby showers, Relay for Life, babies, Band of Horses and painted the rest of June.
The 4th / housewarming extravaganza.
Then the summer went so fast all of our heads spun. There were concerts.
And backyard BBQs, bonfires, butterflies and sunsets.
My ridiculously fabulous sister turned 21. I remember the day she came home from the hospital. She was very little. She had a curly ‘do. She smelled new. She smirked before she smiled, screamed before she coohed and had me in the palm of her hand before she opened her big brown eyes. Apparently praying for a baby sister every night for nine months worked. Years have passed and there have been ups and downs, but she still made it with grace to the legal age. May she have 100 more birthdays just as great as this one. I will make cake for every single one.
One day two crazy gals ripped out a hot tub from the ground. And then the following weekend built a stone patio. Talk about surprising yourself.
We threw a “Hello Fall BBQ.” This was to subsidize the lack of an end of Summer BBQ. This is also when I learned that everyone doesn’t love parties as much as I do. And I also learned that the same people love me enough to have them anyway.
There was FOOTBALL. Every time we played football in the park I wanted to watch the Daria episode where she yells, “FOOTBALL.” It was my closest connection to my gut reaction in playing the sport. I just wrote playing a sport and me in the same sentence. I think we should call someone about this.
In October I sent off a dear friend to California, my wingwoman. It was sad. I made cake. And that’s all I’m gunna say about that.
There were trips to walking towns, Sunday night dinners and the change of the seasons.
We celebrated Halloween (my most favorite holiday) with a house party. There was decorations, shenanigans and lots of laughter. Please note “Party’s Here” carving stage right.
We went to Philly to cheer on my brother-from-another-mother in his second marathon.
The gaping hole in this 2010 recap will be from mid-November to mid-December. That’s when everyday seemed to be, “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.” Throw in a 10 year high school reunion, a few mind games and a dash of depression and we’ve covered that chunk of time just fine.
On to the end of December. We bought a Christmas tree. It was a humorous experience and worth every second guess of the “perfect” tree.
Holiday cheer and snow arrived around the same time.
Here we are. Prepping for New Year’s Eve again. How did that happen?
Wishing you all the best for 2011. Thank you for being here and allowing my creative outlet to invade your screen. I have a lot of faith that the best is yet to come. A lot.
Baby, it’s hot outside.
Sticky.
Sweaty.
And at the exact same moment in time, it’s gorgeous.
Mesmerizing.
Breathtaking.
Heading to dinner in Tivoli on a warm summer’s night, I spotted the most wonderful launderette, The Lost Sock. Huge front windows, open front door and solid brick exterior walls. Cute. Quaint. Heart it.
I have one of the most amazing butterfly bushes I have ever seen in my back yard. I’m not even sure I had ever seen butterfly bushes before this one actually. What is even more amazing is the gorgeous butterflies that come all the time. The latest and most grand was this week’s visitors. They are tiger swallowtail butterflies (Papilio glaucas). They are known to be strong fliers with distinctive yellow and black striped markings on the wings and body.
Wedding in the country have all types of guests. These friendly dudes came roaming on up on a wedding celebration. They would appear and disappear throughout the day. Mirage like. Many blessings to my dear friends Alli and Paul. And the cows.
One would think with all of this heat and sweat and stick, that baking would be curtailed. No fear, goodness is still coming out of the kitchen.
The first dinner at the house was homemade pizza.
And a birthday cake for my lovely friend and co-worker.
Mini mixed berry cuppers with homemade raspberry glaze for brunch with friends.
Summatime, you can stay for a lil while longer, that tundra is not welcome around these parts.
Day after the move…
When did I become old enough to rent a house. A whole house. One with 3 bedrooms. Two bathrooms. And a roommate. Who is also a grown-up. I would have liked to sleep in said new house last night. I was prevented from doing so. By more bugs than I would like to ever see again. I don’t know what is wrong with screens. I like screens. In fact. I heart screens. They keep bugs outside. Where they belong. And then I could have slept in my bed. Bed is where when you go to catch some shut-eye. I have not been getting enough ZZZZs for the last week or so. Nervous energy robs you of sleep. And then you are a walking zombie. Not a cute look. Boxes. Another set of things that rob you of sleep. The “to do” list is larger than the done list. I think I have a list problem. I have a list for work, the new place, the old place, events, gifts and thank yous scattered about. Everywhere. Did I finish my latest list? Maybe I need a how to consolidate my lists list. That would be splendid. Apparently dirt is not on my list. I didn’t order all of this. Or the bugs. Certainly not the bugs. I am not grown up enough to deal with large unidentifiable flying, crawling, moving things. Absolutely not. No way. No how.
Three days after the move…
First night sleeping in new house. Was that sleeping? Not by “normal” peoples definition of the word. I would call it kindof sortof sleeping. Like closing your eyes and being completely aware of crawling critters and white noise and space and quiet. A lot of quiet. The neighbor folk say the firehouse alarm will be loud. They are either the slowest department without any emergency or I have tuned out the noise. Maybe it was all of the years in the city. Where everyone tunes out everyone. And the sirens. And the people. And the traffic. There are less full boxes. And more piles of stuff. That needs a home. Ideally there is an end to the unpacking and organizing, but that light at the end of the tunnel, anyone seen it yet?
Seven days after move…
A whole week has passed. I actually live in the most colorful house in all the land. Literally. Not joking. A yellow dining room. A blue room. A red and orange kitchen. A multi-colored backyard. A teal hallway. And then there is the whitest upstairs ever. I guess they needed a break. I heart the color. Who knew a rental could bring such color. I certainly wasn’t expecting it. And my straight forward wear a suit to work everyday roommate certainly didn’t either. Funny how the most straight forward of people can surprise you. In many ways. But not in toilet paper and bathroom etiquette. Heart the color, heart the roommate, heart the blue room.
One week and two days after the move…
Sitting in the man cave watching tv and writing. The first moments of feeling like I live here. In the colorful house on the river. With the roommate. And less boxes. The planets have been misaligned lately. As if we all have been a lil off. And all it took was a cable connection. A clean light. Put away bras and underwear. And the belief that everyday will be a lil better. A lil safer. A lil brighter.
Hey, hey, hey, no matter how life is today
There’s just one thing that I got to say
I won’t let another moment slip away
I say hey, hey, hey no matter how life is today
There’s just one thing that I got to say
I won’t let another moment slip away
Once upon an oil change, in a place far far away, there was a magical land called Hoffman where many of our favorite characters liked to reside. It is here, as the mechanics fixed, pulled and pushed, that the rest of the land of make believe waited helpless without their mode or transportation, whether it be broom stick, carriage, white horse or coach.
Cinderella’s evil stepsisters sat closest to the door. They seemed to have forgotten that it was a weekday afternoon and the rest of the waiting area was dressed in daytime clothes as they sat in the bedtime best. Maybe Cinderella didn’t have enough clean clothes for them to choose from. It’s a shame when the help doesn’t do what they are told. You end up with frick and frack waiting for an oil change, in rags.
A lost prince charming paced back and forth from the front of the dungeon to the back. He was creating a dust cloud around his boots. It was amazing that he could breathe through it all. He was nervous; perhaps worrying about the lady he left sleeping back at the forest. Getting the oil changed seemed like a perfectly good idea and reason to leave the fair-skinned maven where she lied… at the time anyway. Who knew the oil would pour slower that day or that he risked the clock changing or the morphing pumpkin coach for that matter.
The frog with a prince trapped inside croaked while waiting. And it is said deep down inside, behind the green, around the skin and through the moistness was an actual prince. Or at least that’s what we are hoping for. The amphibian hopped from the viewing window to the waiting room chairs, croaking and blubbering about getting the mobile fixed in a lickedy split. There were “girls to be had,” he ribbitted, “I mean, kissed.” Quick get his wheels done before we have an angry frog on our hands.
As some of Snow White’s dwarfs emptied oil tanks, cleaned carpets and billed in gold coins, there was a new-found respect for 10-minute oil changes of other kingdoms that we had visited before. This clearly was going to be a storybook character parade with each and every 3,000 miles that occurred.
