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invisibility
What's For Dinner? The Second Week of the Second Year of the New Abnormal
I was preparing dinner as I do many nights. Last night was pesto glazed salmon and garlic-marinaded skirt steak with sauteed spinach, garlic bread, and a spicy salad. Thanks to Marion Zinn, my mother-in-law, I have the best marinade for the steak. She was a wonderful hostess and served many delicious dishes. Conversely, my mother would get anxious when hosting guests. Nonetheless she deserves a shout out as an excellent baker. All three of my siblings and I have fond memories of annual birthday cakes baked from scratch, stored on a glass cake plate with an aluminum cake dome. I used to cook and bake regularly, but as life’s responsibilities expanded, my domestic duties dwindled.
Emotions During the Holidays, Week Fifty in the New Abnormal
I was in an emotional tailspin earlier this week. I could tell I wasn’t in the right headspace as I kept thinking of past mistakes I’ve made, times I’ve previously hurt friends, and ways in which I had poor judgement. I was not coming out a champ. More like a chump. The negative barrage is not unfamiliar, but it happens less often than in former years. By Tuesday, I knew that I needed to clear my head so there’d be space for self-care and kindness. Luckily, I had my weekly therapy session.
A Pile of New Yorkers, Week Forty-Nine in the New Abnormal
I made it to page 50 of the New Yorker with the promise of a poem on the next page. Of course, this is the November 14th Issue, which may seem to indicate I’m a month behind. Not so, since I arbitrarily picked it up from a pile that goes back to issues from last year, I now am down to eleven unread issues. This is my ongoing plight with New Yorkers. My pile expands or contracts based on what’s happening any given week.
Bargains Abound, Week Forty-Eight in the New Abnormal
_w140_h140/IMG_5635(1)_11260851.jpg "Bargains Abound, Week Forty-Eight in the New Abnormal")
I just deleted 129 emails from my inbox. I’m not that popular, it’s simply that retailers with black Friday weekend deals want my money. Some of the emails remind me that I looked at something I chose not to buy in case I need to see it again. I do not.
Halloween Weekend, Week Forty-Four in the New Abnormal
It’s Halloween Weekend and the city is ready for the many trick or treaters at every age. As a child of the sixties our Halloween was comprised of a trip to Kiddie City to pick out a cardboard box with a clear window displaying the plastic mask with a thin mouth opening with two nostril holes for labored breathing that allowed for a muffled song of “trick or treat” at the door of kind home-owners who distributed candy, both great and questionable. My favorite candy were plain Hershey chocolate bars, M&Ms, Twizzlers, or Good and Plenty. I was not a fan of the chalky Necco Wafers or boxes of raisins. We had plenty of fruit and raisins in our home, so I was on the lookout for forbidden treats that I would hide in the back of my closet.
Make it Quick, Week Forty-One in the New Abnormal
Life is Beautiful, Living is Hard; Week Thirty-Eight in the New Abnormal
I woke up this morning to a stunning sunrise. I slept well and was in a better mood than I had been the last couple of days. Sunrises bring hope. They help me to begin the day with gratitude. The day is lovely. It’s warm enough to avoid outwear, but cool enough to enjoy the breezes on my walk. The outdoor cafes are filled with happy brunch diners. The city is moving along nicely.
Reactivity, Week Twenty-Six in the New Abnormal
Honestly, the news this week has not been good given my values. A lot of powerful women have been sharing opinions. Yes, I concur, but I have found that it’s been challenging to be my best self in the face of these upsetting decisions. I’ve not been able to separate my reactions from the deeply disturbing news. In this moment the political is personal.
Reparenting on Mother's Day, Week Nineteen in the New Abnormal
Though cards, commercials, and media would have us romanticize motherhood, the truth is Mother’s Day can be stressful for so many. Whether families grapple with mental illness, death, physical illness, the court systems, mismatched needs of child/mother, in-law drama, or whether there are reproductive issues, or other circumstances that make the day difficult, allow for kindness and caring while enduring the day.
Omicron in the Time of Coronavirus, Week Five in the New Abnormal
Whenever I find myself feeling righteous for some reason life humbles me, reminding me that in so many ways we’re all in this together. I had staved off Coronavirus since February 2020. I felt proud of my record. When Omicron came on the scene I started wearing masks indoors and out. I felt mostly protected from the virus and the cold. All was well. That ended a couple of weeks ago when I contracted the virus and was put out for days.
Thwarted Plans, Week Two In The New Abnormal
I keep deluding myself into thinking I know the best formula for getting through these difficult times. I meditate twice daily. I make sure I don’t make plans more than once a week, except in special circumstances. I go for daily walks. I work. I try to make dinner a few times a week. I like doing all these things. While I’m doing teach of them, I feel perfectly fine. But in other moments I am short-tempered. I am impatient. I long for more support.
Sweet Sixteen, Week Sixteen in the Time of Transition
Sweet Sixteen. It doesn’t feel so sweet these days. I remember when I was turning sixteen, I yearned to have a fancy party as many of my friends were having that year. We couldn’t afford an expensive affair, so I begged and cajoled my parents into allowing me to have a house party. My mother did not enjoy entertaining, nor did she feel comfortable in having a good number of adolescents in her home. I didn’t realize at the time what a gift she was giving me just by saying yes.
Small Moments, Week Thirteen in the Time of Transition
My Super Power
When I was in the fifth grade I had a recurrent dream that I could fly. I was elated that I could soar past the bullies and the teasers. I loved that they had to look up to me in my dream. I soared in the air down Haral Place past the mailbox on my way to Stafford School. I held onto that dream. It gave me a sense of being special when I felt anything but special.
But the teasing got worse in junior high. Patty Craven howled at me as if I were a dog. She bribed a classmate to ask me out so they could laugh at me. She was cruel, but I took it. I found small...
