Miracles

Miracles.  Faith.  Trust.  Gratitude.  When witnessed or experienced, are worthy of being savored.

Faith and miracles, gratitude, embrace of good things - from whatever traditions they may originate - Confucianism, Buddhism, Christianity, Judaism, Alabama.

Today was a self-care day, tending to overdue personal and medical maintenance.   Grateful for the advances in science and modern medicine, grateful for good and close friends who were on my team all the way, for their having cleared the way first and done some of the research.  Grateful for modern techniques and pain medication.  Grateful for what may be possible.

At one point, there was a plan to do work, to monitor emails.  Perhaps that was possible, physically, medically.  But mental health is important to tend to as well.  Breaks are sometimes necessary to prepare for what's ahead.

And so the balance of the day was devoted to other rituals ... to a more thoughtful observation of maternal stepGrandmother's death anniversary, which fell today.  Sissy gifted lovely berry-laden branches, a nice, seasonal, rather Christmas-y touch.  Sissy also picked up fruit to share.  And it was the first night of Chanukah, so a hankering for donuts seemed appropriate to satisfy.  Alas, Dunkin' Donuts was closed by the time the hunt began, but SevenEleven remained open, and their remaining stock of donuts was purchased for the cause.  All offerings for Ba Ngoai, who loved Marmy like her own, and us too.  The belief is that the ancestors who provided care in life continue to do so after death too.  Grateful for ancestors who came before.

And why not observe that ritual with all the richness that comes from different faith and other traditions, right?  Grateful for diversity of country.

And tonight, in addition to the miracle of lights celebrated by my Jewish friends, Doug Jones defeated Roy Moore in deep red Alabama.  Grateful for love of country over love of party.  Could work have been done instead of election result viewing?  Sure.  But savoring moments, and self-care, sometimes must win too.

Gratitude. Balance.

Snowy, Snowy Day

(Humming to the tune of "Starry, Starry Night." )

And just like that, autumn tilted strongly toward winter.  Not such a big deal; the snow was predicted.  And at a mere 4 inches or so, well, these parts have seen much more.  But it was the first real accumulation of the season.  And so worth noting, and marking....

...Especially when experienced through the eyes of others.  For the 2-day houseguest in from the mid-Atlantic, reacquainting herself with New York City after a several-year absence, there was the magic of freshly-powdered streets, wandering through Central Park, purchasing new hats and gloves and scarves and boots for the unexpected flurries.  For the longer-term houseguest still more accustomed to California, it was a chance to take snowy nature shots, have hot chocolate, make and gift spiked peppermint hot chocolate, take slow motion kamikaze snowflake footage off the terrace, and leave pictorial messages on the covered surfaces.  Little everyday joys - experiences that, stuck in familiar routines, get forgotten or overlooked.  And, inspired by them and at least in part for their benefit, the evening before, with the onset of anticipatory chill, there was a first lighting of candles in the decorative fireplace - a self-gift without the hesitation that would accompany such a treat if enjoyed only alone. Wintertime pleasures - reintroduced.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

New York City-sized snowman - sized for the micro-apartments popping up about town. 

Up the path from Peter Pan. 

Park lamp with cloak of snowy ivy. 

Hmm - where is he walking off to?

Walking in circles.

Mr. Smiley ...

... has hair, and a sunny countenance.
 
Snow-covered pine.

Snowy stairs.

Christmas tree, enrobed. 

Icy ornaments.

Weighted.

Juxtaposition of autumn and winter. 

Polly in winter.

Cyclamen.

On the terrace.

Red + Yellow = Orange (The Series)

Mindfulness meditation emphasizes being in the present, enjoying the moment.  It does not quite claim to make the time stand still, but with focus and concentration, it FEELS like time slows a bit.  It is the awareness of the moment that makes the time feel like it expands - ever so slightly.

And so, with that elusive aspiration - expanding time - do runs get run.  Sure, physical fitness plays some part in the motivation - but just as importantly, maybe moreso, the runs provide the opportunity to watch nature, to experience the fleeting seasons. 

And so was born the series of photos that lent its name to this post.  Taken last weekend, when it was chilly, but not frigid.  It was that quintessential late autumn period, cold enough that some leaves have dropped, but not so cold that they were all gone.  The climbers still clung, and, of course, the most firey of them were the first to catch the eye.  Bursts of color to store up for the bleakness, the whiteness and greyness, lurking around the corner.  And in spots, standing still, leaves slowly drifted off the trees.  Rewards of mindfulness, and getting outside for runs.

Falling, Into the Holiday Season

The end of November melding into December always brings with it the anxiety of another calendar year almost closed - that season of reckoning: What actually got accomplished?  Where did all those days and months go?  How much can still get done before 11:59pm on December 31st?

The procrastinator always has faith that there is yet time.  Work demands of a tax-focused attorney during a season of legislative change notwithstanding, the hope is there is yet time for it all.

What got done?  The door finally got done late in November.  The change of seasons prompted a call to action before a new round of snow could cause the downstairs neighbor's newly installed ceiling, courtesy of yours truly, to collapse anew.  Pretty, pretty... after a silly, self-inflicted, too-long wait.  And with the door came the overdue update of homeowner policies - all manner of fun goodies that come with adulthood and responsibility.

Pretty new door, with the lovely new trim - courtesy of some hard-working installers who went above and beyond the scope of the job, and the of the good-natured, but insistent, questions of a friend who asked that it be done. 

And then - the re-focusing, the re-centering, the slowing of the breath and the mind to experience the present... the here and now of late autumn.  Found, and made, time - for runs, before the cold sets in; for colors, before the whites and greys come to dominate...

A little precursor of the red-yellow-orange series.

... that little respite before the mind starts to wander and admit the intrusive thoughts of how much more is to be done in the dwindling days of the year... year-end work assignments and targets, holiday cards and decor, gifting and charitable deeds, friends wanting to visit and friends to visit before impending moves... joy, changes, time demands ....

Little neighborhood tree, the morning before its ceremonial first lighting - full of promise and anticipation of the coming busy season. 

And so begins December.

Neglect

The intent initially was for it to be benign.  Without a means of regular egress, what to do but let the plants on the terrace fend for themselves?

But then, out the window, the little lime tree had fallen over....

(More to come)

Perfection Is the Enemy of the Good

So the saying goes.  That compulsive, Type A personality thing that drives one to achieve and accomplish the ideal that one is able to dream up, conjure up, believe to be possible - it is a double-edged sword, for it also sets standards so high sometimes that to do less becomes an internal disappointment.  When all along that slightly less would be pretty damn good by someone else's standards.

The key is setting the parameters - the goal is not just to do the best possible, but to do the best possible within the allotted timeframe.  That latter criterion has always been a tricky one to gauge - the reckoning with reality.  My mama always said, all the years when I was in school and a procrastinator trying to get things done at the last minute, "Vua phai thoi" - roughly translated, "Just what's enough."  The opposite of the Tiger Mom - because her girls already had internal standards that were higher than anyone else's.

Key is to balance, right?  Perfection is the enemy of regular blog posts (sheepish grin).  So, in an attempt to just go ahead and post something, now that Fall is already upon us....

Last Saturday, on a positively summery first of Fall weekend, Guest Roommie suggested a sojourn in the park before his planned shut-in to watch his alma mater's football game.  Much as I had to do for work, it seemed like such a lovely plan.  So I joined him, and his sweetest doggie, Broadway.

Looking south through the "Matted Angel's Hair" cardinal vine to Long Island City.  Mother asked for seeds when last we walked through here, so I was scoping out some possible sources.  The seed pods are not yet mature, but in a few weeks, should be ready to harvest. 

Through the flowers, the buildings under construction in Astoria that now obscure the uninterrupted sweep of the Triborough.  Why didn't someone organize to protect our view like the Brooklyn Promenaders?  Of course, they weren't fully successful in protecting their view of the Brooklyn Bridge "necklace."

Mr. Butterfly - how gorgeous is he?!

Mr. Moth - less showy, but a hard worker nonetheless. 

Matted Angel's Hair cardinal vine close-up.

Broadway close-up.

Broadway's bowl, stashed on a tree limb. At first, there was water from a fountain.  With her recent cancer diagnosis - ver sad - and her tendency to over drink to flush out the excess calcium, she'd been having pee accidents. Her daddy wanted her to pace her drinking, so the bowl that had been partially drunk got stashed in the tree out of her reach. Then it toppled, into some mulch, and was overturned, with bits of mulch stuck within. To avoid Broadway's being tempted, and ingesting mulch, back in the limbs it went. 

View up into the tree canopy from the blanket. 

Broadway relaxing, possibly looking for her bowl.

Through the Matted Angel's Hair cardinal vine toward south Astoria and the lighthouse on Roosevelt Island. 

It was a lovely, slow Saturday.  On the walk home, we returned dad's at the rental place, picked up some new ones, stopped at Glaser's Bakery for some treats, and got home in time for Guest Roommie's football game.  And that evening watched "Shawshenk Redemption," which I had never seen.  Yes, I don't see many movies. 

Then Sunday, the drive to accomplish SOMETHING during the weekend kicked in. The super had sent a rather rude and critical email on the state of my housekeeping in light of a little mouse issue, so I decided the stove needed to be tackled.  Guest Roommie did most of the hard scrubbing on the stove surface. I tackled the detail work of the burner grates, knows, etcetera - and spent way more time than intended.  He came in, worried - teasingly, but belting some truth.  That OCD thing.  And then decided just enough was good enough.  The stove top is as clean as it has been in ages.  And really, who is going to look so closely to find the straggly heated on bits that refuse to yield to the Brillo pad?

As good as it gets.

Garden Gone Wild

Already into summer, and only made the first climb out the window in many weeks.  Today's modest goal: Put in the geraniums before they complete dried out in their hibernating state underneath the bathroom sink.  Of the five plants, three clearly had some moisture left and some live leaves; two were more questionable - I have hope, but we'll have to see.

 

 

And then, of course, that mission provided a chance to survey the rest of the garden - in its sorry, long-neglected state....

 

 

And then there is the progress going on over at the Brearly site....