a thanksgiving visit. a half-week party.

in ,



my parents came to visit last week.

a few things you should know:

1. i've lived in new york for 5 1/2 years now

2. i worked extra shifts over this holiday so that i could ensure a week's vacation at home (in texas) come christmas time

3. in all those 5 1/2 years i don't know that my parents and i have ever had a truly successful visit, here

i cried on the phone to my mother two nights before she came. there is this thing known as guilt, of which, as a catholic, i am well versed in. and usually the visit is an experiment in how guilty i can feel for not having enough time or energy to give to my family.

but the monday before the arrival i cleaned and scrubbed and bought new champagne glasses, and thought, come what may, i'm ready.

it got off to a rocky start when my parents arrived too soon, and i forced them to wait in the car until i had arrived home and arranged some flowers--in my mind the flowers were more important than anything else. but they took a catnap and seemed in good spirits. so i pulled out the new glasses and we toasted family, togetherness, and stolen naps.

from there we walked to the new leaf cafe, which truly set the mood for the entire trip. the restaurant was gorgeous and unlike anything we've ever experienced here in the city (which became the theme for the rest of the week). it felt like we were dining in an over-sized cabin nestled into wooded green. the food was delicious and we left giddy with excitement over our find.

thursday morning found the three of us around the television watching the parade (my absolute favorite thing to do as a child) before we set off for aunt mary beth and uncle steven's home where we would join with three of my cousins: sean, ryan, mike--and sean's fiancee sarah--and of course my brother, connor, who drove down from his new home in boston. thanksgiving day was filled with laughter, copious amounts of delicious food, and the tail-end of the movie Rudy (only one of the greatest films, and no doubt the greatest soundtrack ever), not to mention a rousing round of celebrity (a game much like charades that's now become a family tradition).

i worked all day on friday, as i had on wednesday, but my nuclear family came into the restaurant for drinks, before i sent them on their way.

after working a half-day on saturday, i joined mom and dad in the west village where we were going to see the a production of thorton wilder's our town. it was there, next to the theatre, wait for me, that my parents stumbled across the restaurant one if by land. let me first say, the it is located in aaron burr's old carriage house. you know that i love history, yes? and aaron burr was one of the names i contributed to our game of celebrity (mentioned above). the restaurant was perfection. to be fair, we stayed only at the bar, but the lit christmas tree in the corner, coupled with the live piano music, the vintage couches, and the sense of history...well, i was in heaven.

one if by land was followed by a remarkable our town, a rousing round of gelato, and walk through the west village.

this visit was divine. it felt like we all showed up for the party, you know?

and now i'm counting down the days until i get to go home. 19, to be exact.

what about you all, how was the holiday?

thanksgiving

in , , ,



"YOU SAY GRACE BEFORE MEALS.


ALL RIGHT.


BUT I SAY GRACE BEFORE THE CONCERT AND THE OPERA, AND GRACE BEFORE THE PLAY AND PANTOMIME, AND GRACE BEFORE I OPEN A BOOK, AND GRACE BEFORE SKETCHING, PAINTING, SWIMMING, FENCING, BOXING, WALKING, PLAYING, DANCING, AND GRACE BEFORE I DIP THE PEN IN THE INK."


G.K. Chesterson




i am so thankful for all the things i get to say grace before, and all the people who taught me that grace is an act of love.

just a reminder.

in



cool autumnal air is pouring in through the the open windows, battling with the radiator (over which i have no control).


the candles are lit.

and the room is clean.

john legend is playing on the stereo. john legend is best played in the winter months.

the vase is clean, waiting for the flowers i'll pick up on my way home from work.

my parents arrive tonight.

i'm hoping we'll go to dinner at the new leaf cafe which by it's own description serves "seasonal modern American drawing inspiration from local green markets, upstate New York farms and New York City's community gardens" and the proceeds go to support Fort Tryon Park, the surrounding community, the 55 NYC community gardens, and four sponsored city parks. i'm realizing that what we eat, on a daily basis, affects everyone--the choices we make are important. it's not just about what we want in any given moment, it's about what's best for our health as well as the environment (but more about that later).

the whole point of this post was to re-post this:

You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.

Buddha

i began repeating these words to myself yesterday, and each time i did it was like hitting the re-set button. it made me stop, breathe, and send a little love my own way. and because of this...the room is clean and the candles are lit and john legend is playing on the stereo and i can feel love in all its many forms as i sit on the my stool and type this.

happy tuesday. enjoy this day.


image of new leaf via google search.

or so i feel.

in ,

there's this line from the guernsey literary and potato peel pie society that i keep thinking about:


"What did he look like?" I asked, for I wanted to picture the scene. I expected it was a futile request, given that men cannot describe eachother, but Dawsey knew how. "He looked like the German you imagine--tall, blonde hair, blue eyes--except he could feel pain."

sometimes i think, just for today--just for today i will be the woman with the perfectly manicured nail beds who does crossword puzzles to completion and listens to this american life on a regular basis.

just for today i'll be the woman in the three-inch-pumps who woke at seven for her five-mile-run. and who can smile just-so and melt the heart of many-a-man.

just for today i'll be the girl who doesn't need months to warm-up to someone, for whom shyness is not a reality, but something read about in literature or dissected in art-house movie theatres.

who sits down to a meal. by herself--without four years of ghosts trailing just beyond her field of vision.

for whom sadness is a singular event--occurring intermittently at best. who can speak three languages and laughs sans snort. who cuts her grapefruit gracefully and and prepares her meals in advance. who always responds to emails and calls in a prompt fashion. who mails thank-yous the days she's finished writing them. by hand. whose handwriting doesn't deteriorate to scribble. ever.

who knows what day of the week it is when she wakes in the morning. and how much money she has in her bank account--wait, scratch that, who has money in her bank account.

but i'm not. i am not that woman. not today. not tomorrow. probably, not ever.

but today--today i can feel pain. and that's something.