The Bearable Lightness We're Seeing

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As usual on Thursday mornings, I got up to my phone alarm playing “The Entertainer” at 6:30 in order to get Nate to school by 7am. “The Entertainer” totally annoys me now, but I figure if I change it, I’d be far less annoyed and tend to gravitate toward a “Snooze” routine instead of to a “Warm the car up. Grab coffee in my perfect travel mug. Put bundled-up, half-asleep Iz into car, and drive Nate to school” routine.

After I got Nate and Iz off to school, I sat down on the couch to drink a cup of coffee and watch something mindless for a bit. No. The couch wasn’t talking to me today, which was good. The other night Iz was eating her “chocolate balls” (a.k.a., Lindt truffles) on the couch and babbling about something Miley Cyrus or Jonas Brothers-related; and, I think that the result was a couch exorcism. Don’t Miley Cyrus and the Jonas Brother scare the bejesus out of you, too?!

As I was sitting there, I noticed something unusual in the kitchen. No. Liam didn’t have his furry bottom parked on the cook top nor did I see a pile of barfed up cat crunchies on the floor. Yes, that’s usually what’s “unusual” about the kitchen. This morning, I noticed that the lights were on.

These weren’t any lights. They were the lights around both my bay windows. The sun was so bright this morning, I had to look twice to make sure they were on. And, they were, which had me thinking, “I know I unplugged those before I went to bed last night!”

At Christmas time, Iz really wanted to decorate the outside of the house, as we had for Halloween. But, it was just not in my bandwidth. I told her “next year,” but I felt badly.

So, when we were at Target before Christmas, I picked up two strands of lights, one white and one multi-colored. I thought that we could put these lights up in the house somewhere to make up for the lack of external festiveness. She thought that was a grand idea.

When we came home that afternoon, I tried to put them on the banister leading up to the second floor; however, they weren’t long enough. So, I thought long and hard about where might be the perfect place to put them.



I got out my thumbtacks, and I put one strand around each of the bay windows in the kitchen.



“Live in rooms full of light.” ~Cornelius Celsius

I guess I’m very particular about my light. During the day, I love the massive amounts of sunlight that stream into my kitchen through my bay windows. As far as I’m concerned, Architecture 101 should instruct that bay windows be mandatory in at least one living space in any home. Before renovating the kitchen, I had only one bay window in my dining room. I cannot tell you how much I (and Liam, who is often perched in one) love my bay windows.

My herbs, the ones that I take in from the porch each Fall (lavender, rosemary, and oregano), occupy one window along with my cyclamen from Sarah, my orchid from Jeff, and my African violet from Cathy. The other bay window is home to several photos, my suncatchers from Hill’s, and my grandparent’s Sears Silvertone radio (circa 1930s) that still works, though only for AM stations.

Anyway, when the sun’s out, it’s as if an invisible window shade has been lifted in my kitchen. The light is incredible. It was so bright this morning, that I had to do a double-take to realize, “Iz turned the lights on at 6:30 this morning, and that's how important they are to her.” And, I smiled. It wasn’t the smile you smile when someone says or does something funny; it was the smile you smile when realize something, know the “heart” behind it, and it makes your day.

Once I drank my coffee, I got up, and I unplugged both sets of lights. No. It wasn’t that I didn’t love them. It was most definitely related to my 70s energy crisis upbringing. I remember waiting in line for gas to fill my Dad’s puke green Gran Torino and the way my Dad kept the thermostat at 62 degrees at night and at 65 degrees during day. As I like to say, my electric blanket was my first boyfriend in high school!

At night, Iz and I love the low lights. We both love candle light, and we both like the dimmer on low. I hate bright lights in my kitchen, even if it means my chopped onions might contain a bit of my index finger. (Just kidding! Err, well, it hasn’t happened yet.) Low lights relax me, and they always have.

Even before Christmas, the family (well, Iz and I) decided that we’d keep lights up all year long. I think part of that decision was made when we discussed taking down the Christmas tree. Why is it that the good feelings associated with Christmas always seem to depart when the tree is taken down and subsequently goes to the brush dump?!

While they were Christmas lights making our windows sparkle, it seemed that, unlike the holiday, we did not want to wait ‘til next year, a whole year, to feel whatever it was they made us feel during the holiday season. We wanted them to light up our window every day.

Was it that we didn’t want to lose that Christmas feeling? Maybe. Was it that the feeling of doing something “special” every day (like watering the tree or turning the tree lights on) made the day special? Maybe. I think for us (well, maybe more so for me), it was that we knew we couldn't afford a lot of extras; however, the lights gave us the spirit of something special, even if it was just plugging them in each day, even though nothing special may have happened that day.

With these lights, Iz and I have an illuminated and calm paradise. They make us feel like we’re outside underneath the twinkling stars, yet we know we’re inside and warm without the wind chill factor; thus, $20 spent at Target can give you a piece of mind and give you a whole new world. ♥

And, like her mother, she was destined to be fond of high heels (vintage black patents featured) and to be fond of bright, shiny and luminous things, and in her case, always epitomize one. ♥

“In the right light, at the right time, everything is extraordinary.” ~Aaron Rose

New Friends We Made Today on Two and Four Legs Note: When I went out for a walk in the neighborhood this afternoon to “exercise,” given that my cold had made me do much of nothing this week, I happened upon a man and his dog.

When I saw the dog, I immediately asked, “Is it a Corgi?” The owner answered, “Part.” I asked, “And what else?” He responded, “You tell me!” Um, and on what night did I have too many glasses of wine and have “Animal whisperer” tattooed on my forehead?

I answered, “I think Jack Russell.” He laughed and said, “I have no idea.” He then began to tell me that he was in need of a pooch, put the word out to friends, and then this dog became his roommate.

I asked, “What’s its name?” He replied, “Beth.” I said, “Hi, Beth.” She jumped up on me, didn’t bark, and I fell in love with her.

He then said, “I’m Justin. We’re 70.” I said, “I’m Jean. I have a sable and white Corgi, and we’re 104.” (Mind you, those are our street numbers not our IQs!) He said, “We’ll see you out here again then.” I responded, “I’m sure of it.”

Rumors of My Demise Due to Suffocation Under a Large Pile of Used Kleenex are Greatly Exaggerated by Me Note: I debated whether or not to leave a note about it, but I -gasp- took last night off from blogging. After writing every day for the last six months, I felt I needed a break.

And, thank you, Cathy, for missing me. ♥

I See Your Cold and Raise You a Penguin

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Once upon a time when I woke up this morning, I felt all better. No. I didn’t. I was beginning to think this illness was payback for not inviting all my friends to my company Christmas party!

I glanced at my bedside table, looked down upon the sea of used Kleenex, the bottle of Cloraseptic throat spray, the scattered Tylenol pills, and the box of Kleenex and asked myself, “Do I still need any of this stuff?” As I swallowed, my throat screamed, “Hell ya!” and my nose began to run yet again.

I thought, “Should I stay home or should I go to the aquarium with Iz as I had promised yesterday?” I felt like another day on the couch was necessary. I sighed.

And, just then the door to my bedroom swung wide open with a bang, announcing the entrance of Iz, who immediately asked, “Mommy, is today the day we’re going to the aquarium?” I glanced at my pile of cold-aids, and then back at Iz, and I finally said, “Yes. Today is the day!” She squealed with delight and then ran downstairs.

I threw on my vintage yellow sweater over my vintage mint green nightgown, grabbed a Kleenex, and I followed her downstairs. When I arrived in the kitchen, Iz again knew something was up by my outfit. She said to herself, "Mom hardly ever comes downstairs wearing her PJs!"

Sensing my lingering illness, she tried to change the subject by asking, “Mommy, do you know why you eat breakfast?” I sniffled, blew my nose, and asked, “No, Iz. Why?” She yelled, “So, you can wake up!” and she cackled like a crazy woman. I smiled back at her.

She knew I was still sick and cared about me, but nothing could break the mother-daughter contract for a day at the aquarium. After all, she had spent four days in Western Pennsylvania with her very elderly grandparents; she so earned this trip to the aquarium!

Just like a comedienne who is bombing at the Comedy Connection, she knew she was losing her fatigued fan. She knew I had most likely little to no interest in the trip; however, she didn’t want to postpone, and I didn’t blame her. She loves the aquarium, and so did I. So, she quickly said in her sweetness voice, hoping to revive her ailing audience, “Mom, thanks for taking me to the aquarium today!”

I laughed and said, “You’re welcome, Iz.” We ate our breakfast, changed our clothes, and at 10am, it was time to pick up Noah. Originally, it was just going to be a trip for me and Iz; however, at 3pm yesterday, Iz invited Noah. I didn’t even think to invite Noah, because he was in the fourth grade.

I thought it would be harder for him to miss a day of school, though in the end, his Mom said it would be fine. He and Iz are like brother and sister anyway; they are only four years apart and rarely fight. Okay, maybe they’re not like a typical brother and sister, because they do get along really well and always have.

As I went to tie Iz’s sneakers, I noticed the laces were both in knots, bad knots. I sighed, sneezed, blew my nose, and then Iz tried to placate her sick showgoer with, “Mom, thanks so much for letting Noah come to the aquarium with me!” I said, “You’re welcome, Iz. We’ll have fun.” Iz then said, “Can I get you some more Kleenex?” She was working the crowd and really wanted to go to the aquarium.

Noah arrived at our house at 10:20am, because I was late picking him up. And, ironically, Iz and Noah played “Go Fish” for most of the car ride to Alewife, the subway station. I heard Iz respond to Noah once with “Thanks, Dude!”

I had to laugh, because Iz never says “Dude.” Isn’t it funny sometimes how people change how they speak to communicate with certain people? I think Iz feels that when she is with Noah, who she thinks the world of, that she has to speak like a Southern California surfer in order to be as cool as he is.

Once at the Alewife subway station, we parked on the 4th floor and took a very l-o-n-g escalator down to the actual station. Oddly, when in front of the ticket kiosk (oh, how I love to say that word!), there was a cold wind whipping through that part of the station. It was usually very warm there; however, I saw signs about construction, so I assumed there was a door, no, more like 1000, opened somewhere.

I started tapping away at the Charlie ticket machine, until I was interrupted by a tap on my arm by the woman standing at the machine next to me. She was an elderly Chinese woman. She showed me how her dollar bill would not go into the machine. I tried it a few times.

I cancelled out of her transaction. She pushed the Chinese button again, and I tried to figure out what she was doing given that she had $2 and her senior citizen ID in her hand. Freezing cold and with two children in tow, I gave up on her machine, and I said, “Let’s try my machine.”

Again, the same thing happened. Her bills would not go in, until I realized that perhaps I should look at the screen, even though it was in Chinese. Well, it wasn’t in Chinese. It was basically asking for an amount. We had to enter the sum of $2 before the machine would take the money. I typed in $2, and, just like that, her two one-dollar bills were sucked up quickly by the State of Massachusetts.

She smiled, and she thanked me. Well, there were words, but I didn’t know exactly what they meant. I knew they were “thank you” by the way she touched my arm whereas before when she touched my arm, it was “please.” Anyway, the whole experience proved to me that no matter what your language, those Charlie ticket machines are NOT user friendly.

Iz, Noah, and I made our way down the stairs to the platform to wait for the train. Iz and Noah began to stomp on each other’s toes and other such things, so I had to do the “Stop it now!” Mom thingy. I get nervous when they’re near the tracks. So, I was probably more fierce than I needed to be, but they both complied. And, the wonderful thing about Noah being “cool” is that he listens, and Iz does what Noah does!

Once on the train for 10 minutes, my two feet-stomping kids, turned into Jell-o. The lull of the train had seduced them into a sitting-quietly coma of sorts. I almost thought for a second that they had both had come down with the flu on the Red Line because they were so quiet!



Just then, I had an idea for an invention. Someone should invent a booth, kind of like one of those 4-pictures for $2 booths, that contains a bench yet takes no pictures. Instead, it gently rocks the occupants (children) into a calm state just like the subway does. Brilliant, huh?!

When we arrived at Downtown Crossing (the orange line), we got off. We had to take the Red Line to the Orange Line to the Blue Line to make it to the aquarium. I’m proud to say that I navigated that all successfully, though while trying to keep my ship on course during the Orange Line transition, I had to stop and absorb a subway map for a few minutes.

As we did, the elderly Chinese women I had helped at Alewife walked by me, smiled, and waved. It was ironic, because 30 minutes earlier, I helped her find her way. Now, it looked like she knew exactly where she was going, and I was the one who was lost.

When we emerged from the Aquarium Blue Line station, Iz said, “I’m hungry!” Rather than eat at the aquarium cafeteria, I said, “Let’s go to Legal Seafood.” Noah gave that idea and enthusiastic thumbs up, and so did Iz.

When there, Noah feasted on lobster, Iz on rolls and then macaroni and cheese, and I on clam chowder. And, after Noah devoured his lobster, which looked really good, he asked, “Can I have some chowder now?” Where does he put it?!?!

Lunch Time Antics

Iz asked Noah if he knew when the “Tooth Fairy” was coming out.

Iz told the waiter as she pointed to Noah, “He’s not my brother!” Though, I don’t think there were too many days when Iz didn’t wish Noah was her brother.

Noah offered Iz some of his French fries and she then faux smoked them, and I told her to cut that out immediately!

Iz said that she hoped the divers in the tank didn't get “stinged.” And Noah immediately corrected her and said, “Stung.”

Noah asked me about how a sting ray killed Steve Irwin, and I said I had no idea, but perhaps he could ask the people at the aquarium.

Once at the aquarium, we checked out the penguins, and then went to the top of the huge tank. I saw a volunteer nearby, and I told Noah to ask his question about the sting rays. She told him that they trimmed the stingers, so that there was no worry about any of the divers suffering the same fate as Steve Irwin.

It’s funny, because though Iz is my daughter, I enjoyed Noah’s inquisitiveness about all the creatures. Iz is still young, and she lost her interest in the aquarium after buying her stuffed seal at the gift shop. Noah got a necklace with a real shark tooth on it, but it only seemed to make him more interested in all the creatures about us.

Noah wanted to stay for the penguin show at 2:30. A diver was in with the penguins, describing all the different types in great detail, and Noah even asked a question. In my many years of coming to the aquarium with young children, it was the first time I was there with a child who wanted to know everything, and it was everything I had missed all these years.

At 3pm, the divers would go in the large tank and feed all the animals. Noah asked if we could stay for that, too. “Sure,” I said excitedly. We ventured up to the top, and Noah stood there fascinated the whole time, as was I. The volunteer described the turtles, the sharks, and the fish in such wonderful detail. In the back of my head, I kept saying, “Shit. I should have been a marine biologist,” while Iz kept saying, “Can we go now?”

On the way home, we did the reverse Blue, Orange, Red Line trip perfectly. Though, it was longer than driving, we never had to experience the frigid temperatures outside, as we were underground. That didn't prevent Iz, my beautiful girl, from saying to me at the Central Square stop, "Are we there yet?"



We had a great day. And, you know, they do say, “Starve a fever; learn about penguins when you have a cold.” Yes, they do. Did you know that penguins have feathers? I didn’t. Who knew they were birds? And, since when do birds wear tuxedos? Um, never mind, just pass the scrambled eggs again, please. ♥

'Tis Healthy to be Sick Sometimes

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Yesterday, I rested all day, and I was beginning to feel like I had beat this cold with back-to-back episodes of “Law & Order” and scrambled eggs. On the “Under the Weather” channel, my hopeful forecast was “Cold, cold, go away!” for today.

But, when I woke up after a solid 9 hours of sleep, I was back to feeling lousy. So, what gives?! I did everything right (for once), but there I was dousing my throat with Chloraseptic at 5am. Though the spray worked wonders at making my sore throat go away temporarily; it repulsed me simultaneously, because its scent brought me back to the days when I unenthusiastically had to dissect a fetal pig in high school Biology.

After I sneezed, blew my nose, and then climbed on the couch without it telling me to do so, there was only one thing to do. Take it easy for yet another day, and try to look upon all this philosophically* instead of scientifically.**

* “Like everybody else, when I don't know what else to do, I seem to go in for catching colds.” ~George Jean Nathan

**I treated my cold with rest, “Law & Order,” kisses, a neck massage, a kitten, scrambled eggs, and a good night’s sleep, so why was I not up to biking 40 miles today, well, besides the fact that there was a foot of snow on the ground and it was 30 degrees outside?!

Accessories



“Men who care passionately for women attach themselves at least as much to the temple and to the accessories of the cult as to their goddess herself.” ~Marguerite Yourcenar

TV



“Seeing a murder on television... can help work off one's antagonisms. And if you haven't any antagonisms, the commercials will give you some.” ~Alfred Hitchcock

Soup



“What does good in bed mean to me? When I'm sick and I stay home from school propped up with lots of pillows watching TV and my mom brings me soup -- that's good in bed.” ~ Brooke Shields

Feet



“Where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.” ~Oliver Wendell Holmes

“Why isn't there a special name for the tops of your feet?” ~Lily Tomlin

Cats (Plume)



“Who among us hasn't envied a cat's ability to ignore the cares of daily life and to relax completely?” ~ Karen Brademeyer

Dog



“Dogs are our link to paradise. They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring--it was peace." ~ Milan Kundera

Sick and Tired



“I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.” ~ Fannie Lou Hamer

Normal and Healthy

Here’s what I look like when I’m, err, normal and healthy, and as Virgil said, “The greatest wealth is health.”



Okay, I don’t always look like this. I only look like this when I ask my hairdresser to make my hair look like Linda Evangelista’s did when she appeared on the cover of the November ’09 issue of “W” magazine!



And, based on the following quote…

"Health is a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being, and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity." ~World Health Organization, 1948

I was probably not healthy to begin with before this cold! Was it because “I think of life itself now as a wonderful play that I've written for myself, and so my purpose is to have the utmost fun playing my part*,” or was it that “I am so clever that sometimes I don’t understand a single word of what I am saying.**”

*Shirley MacLaine
**Oscar Wilde

Hmmm. I wonder. Meanwhile, pass the scrambled eggs, please. ♥

Scrambled Eggs for the Soul

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Last week, I had a mildly irritated throat. Later in the week, it turned into a major sore throat. As usual, I ignored my body’s request to skip the gym, sleep more, and take it easy in general.

At 3am this morning, as I felt my nose start to run onto my pillow, my body said, “Welcome to your nasty cold, Jean!” I got up to blow my nose. My body then said, “I told you so!” I really hate it when my body’s right.

I don’t generally consider myself to be a “baby” when I’m sick. After going through two c-sections and then having to care for the resulting baby and opting not to take the post-surgery pain killers, I felt I was pretty rugged. After all, I am Polish; you have to be tough to endure polka music!

Okay, I’ll be honest with you. You know what brings out the baby in me? A paper cut. I got one yesterday when I opened an envelope; it sliced me underneath my right thumb. Those things are so small, yet so painful, and just really annoying in general!

Anyway, I decided to listen to my body today for once. No gym. No vacuuming. No sitting in a cold hockey rink for Nate’s game. Today was all about doing nothing and resting on the couch.

I hate being sick. But, sometimes, I guess it’s just Nature’s way of telling you need, which is definitely different from want when you’re in a funk, to watch back-to-back episodes of Law & Order, read your unread back issues of “In Style,” and take care of yourself for once and not everyone else. And, it is funny how much less guilty I feel watching back-to-back episodes of Law & Order when my nose is running in between sneezes!

I don’t get sick a lot, just usually bronchitis every now and then. I’ve only ever broken my toe -- sock feet, metal spiral stair case, quick sprint down the stairs with a birthday card I just made, and late for my Dad’s birthday party. Yes, it was almost like running with scissors! And fortunately, my surgeries are limited to one tonsillectomy, the aformentioned two c-sections, and one breast biopsy. I think the tonsillectomy was my most painful, yet the best one of all.

I was old when I had them removed, 25 years old to be exact. After three cases of strep throat, it was decided that it was time to remove my golf-ball sized tonsils. I was living at home at the time, and my Mom, being a nurse immediately put the word out for a good ENT doctor near home.

After seeing him, I was scheduled for surgery at Framingham Union Hospital where my Mom had once worked. She contacted all her old friends there and made sure I would be on their floor and under their care.

I remember going into the operating room, and having the anesthesiologist asking me to count backwards. Can someone tell me why they do that? You never make it past 97. Is it so if you’re still conscious saying “25, 24, 23,” then they know they didn’t give you enough juice?!

Of course, when I woke up, I had a horrible, horrible sore throat and wondered, “Perhaps the strep throat three times a year was the better deal.” Of course, all my Mom’s friends, fellow nurses, came into visit me the whole time I was there.

They’d say, “Oh, when your Mom worked here, we heard all about you. So, how are you doing?” I felt like I had just been asked by a waitress “How is everything?” when my mouth was full of food! It was hard, but I eked out a “Fine, thank you.”

When I finally got home from the hospital, my Mom tucked me into bed and brought me everything she thought I needed. And, when she left for work at 6am the next morning, she brought me scrambled eggs and told me to stay in bed. My Mom always made scrambled eggs when I was sick. Scrambled eggs were Tylenol, Band-Aids, and Love all served on one plate.

(I also always got scrambled eggs before weekend track meets in high school, because it was the only thing I could eat when I was nervous. Before she left for work, it was “Drink a glass of milk,” because she said I shouldn’t do anything on an empty stomach. And, if she wasn’t working, she would make me scrambled eggs.)

I ventured up out of my tonsillectomy sick bed for a shower after I ate my scrambled eggs. I knew when I started to sway back and forth under the warm water that it was a mistake. I crawled back into bed, hoping my Mom wouldn’t notice; however, nurses, like crime scene investigators, notice a lot more than most people. When she came home, she noticed the absence of bedhead and immediately chastised me for getting up.

After the scolding, I promised I wouldn’t attempt a shower again. When she seemed satisfied that I would comply, she then asked, “Want some scrambled eggs?” I guess the best thing about being sick at any age is having someone who loves you caring for you.

Today, Iz climbed onto the couch with her dessert, a Lindt truffle, and two cherry Kisses. She saw me, looked down at her treats, picked up a kiss, stretched out her hand to me, and asked, “Mommy, do you want this? I thanked her for her kiss, and then I kissed her back by telling her to enjoy her treat.

She seemed happy to have made a genuine offer but just as happy to have it back for consumption. She then said, “Mommy, after I finish this, I will massage your neck, okay?” Whatever Iz does when she grows up, I’m sure it will require a fair amount of compassion. She has a lot to give, and I hope she gets to put it all to good use.

Just then, Nathan rounded the corner, holding Plume the kitten. Unfortunately, Monty, who felt his presence was all that was needed during domestic animal visiting hours, barked loudly. Plume jumped out of Nathan’s hands, and she ran back upstairs. Nathan looked at me with a “Sorry, Mom” expression. I thanked him for the attempted feline Hallmark.

I think that no matter what your relationship, there’s nothing like having your Mom nearby in times of discomfort and distress. But, then again, if you’re fortunate, you will always have the people and the things around you that provide comfort and love. After being treated with kisses, a massage, a kitten and four restful hours on the couch, I got up and made myself some scrambled eggs. ♥

Twogether

Blog soundtrack (This is a beautiful version of this song; please, listen, or ELSE I will send the flying monkeys after you!):


This morning when I woke up, my first waking thought was about what I last saw in my dream – two pine trees standing together. I don’t usually think a lot about my dreams the next morning, well, the ones I can remember, but for some reason, all I could think about today was two, like things that are two.

It was kind of odd for me to go off on such a tangent. I was just thankful that I wasn't still thinking about my dream from the night before, where I pulled glass shards out of my mouth during the whole dream. Um, let’s not even venture to think what that was all about!

Adam and Eve. Noah and his ark. Chicken or egg. Whatever you believe, it’s always been about two, right? Most of what is innate in life seems symmetrical. (Though, symmetry is not always mathematical, especially in matters of the heart. )

Anyway, after you decide how it all began, you look at who you are, well, not who you are, but what houses who you are, your body.

You have two ears, two eyes, two eye brows (though in the case of some men, okay, and in some women, too, it might be one brow over two eyes!), two breasts/nipples, two kidneys*, two arms, two legs, two reproductive associated-thingies that begin with “O” and “T” (I’m shy, so I can’t type it!), and two feet; did you realize that there’s a lot of “two-ness” holding you together on a daily basis?

*Thanks to Liz, my LovelyChiquitaGoil, for sending me this today; it was ironic and fitting. ♥



Then, in life, most things come in twos. Skis. Skates. Chop sticks. Utensils (knife and fork, and you can easily substitute either of these for a spoon after all). Wine glasses. Stilettos. Salt and pepper shakers. Dice. Knitting needles. Bangle bracelets. (One bracelet makes no noise; however, two makes a duo that goes “Klink-a-klink-klink!) Two bottles of Hermes perfume. ♥ Life is complete and good when it comes in twos, well, most of the time.

And in regard to numbers, even numbers, like two, seem to be much less superstitious. Take the number, 13. There’s never a 13th floor. And, going on a superstitious tangent, don’t walk on the crack, and spill salt over your shoulder after you spill it.

Beside crossing my fingers when any plane I’m on takes off, after I write the number 13, I have to immediately write another number. And even though, I've have had a black cat cross my path, given that I’m a cat whisperer, I figure I get an automatic “bye” on that superstition.

Anyway, everything always seems better when it’s even, doesn’t it? I guess that would apply to most things in life. The best thing my Mom ever said to me was, “Life is not fair;” and, I don’t think it is ever even either. (Alliteration not intentional!)

I do know that we all have one heart. I know they can replace it, if you’re lucky enough, but you’re given just one. And in the scheme of two, two people make a couple, which involves one heart then two; the end-all pairing of two (some days I’d rather find my matching earring than find the partner) is not crucial, but it’s still a coveted one.

It’s important to be one. It’s good to be able to go out to dinner on your own, sit in front on the TV by yourself, sleep alone in your big bed at night, and go to NYC, where you know no one, and make new friends.

It would appear that in coupledom that 1 + 1 = 2; however, sometimes, 1 + 1 = 1, a lonely one. I do hope to make 1 + 1 = 2 some day; however, if not, I’ll always be content with my one heart. ♥

My Fortune

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I had lunch with a good friend today. We went to a nearby terrific Chinese restaurant. After eating, we ordered a pot of Jasmine tea. I love Jasmine tea almost as much as I love rosemary focaccia bread.

We opened our fortune cookies. And, as mandatory, well, at least when you eat with me, you must read your fortune to the other person. When it was my turn, I said, “Miracles do happen,” and I laughed.

When I got home, I saw this.



This is Liam and Plume sleeping together. I’m sure Plume was the instigator, but the fact that Liam went along with it was truly a miracle in my book.

Iz called me when she was on her way home from Pennsylvania. Worried about the school vacation rush on the aquarium this week, I told her that she could skip school one day next week, and we’d take the train into Boston and go to the aquarium. She said, “Yeah, finally, girl time!” It was all I could do to keep from laughing; however, in that moment, I felt so loved and needed.

Today, I felt that a fortune came true, while I also realized how fortunate I was. ♥