Take a Hike

Hearting (though sweating in) Harriman State Park.

I rarely get to hike because city-reared Papa Rooster and Mother Hen and Sissy and Lil' Bro don't really enjoy it. We never did it grow up; I only went for the first time back in law school by the Blue Ridge Mountains. Back then, even though I was young, I didn't exercise regularly and was terribly out of shape, bringing up the rear with a classmate 15 years my senior. But I loved the physical exertion and being out in nature.

During the pandemic early years, I researched easy hikes near New York City so we could get outside for an activity, and the whole family went. In the middle of the otherwise peaceful woods across the Hudson from West Point (a not particularly dangerous spot), Papa Rooster berated me for leading the whole family into certain doom and putting us at risk of robbers in the woods. (Um - what? Trauma carried over from living in a wartorn country until he arrived here, I am guessing. And the Viet Cong held the jungles, and he spent time with them there in his youth, so fear of dark spaces with trees is not altogether crazy in his case.)

Anyway, the loud arguing as we tried to find our way was not exactly a relaxing nor meditative experience. So we don't go as a family. And I long for it.

I am too chicken and worried about my inexperience to go alone on my own, though. Would I know which tree to turn at to stay on the trail? Which snake to avoid? How to defend myself against a bear or wolf or other predator? Resounding no!

Happily, I have friends who hike, and they invited me along a few weekends ago.

It was supposed to be an easy hike. One of my college classmates was in charge of planning. His easy and my easy (and other friends' easy) are not the same. I should have guessed; Planner Friend goes biking on mountains for fun.

Eastern eyed click beetle

On the plus side, it was mountain laurel season - just lovely. 

Dottie Audrey's Bakery Kitchen

It was hot, though. Thank goodness there was a lake. At least Planner Friend got that part right.

And, afterward, at the end of the six hour "easy" hike, the rest of us (Planner Friend had to leave for a commitment) stopped into a wonderful bakery and cafe recommended by Planner Friend. He got that part right, too.

Scratched the hiking itch.

[Text was added within 24 hours of the publishing time. I don't think I will be noting that anymore. This isn't journalism; just for me. I oftentimes post right before the midnight "deadline," meaning I oftentimes need a bit more time to flesh out a post fully. I will try to stick to a short finishing window. But that round out should just be assumed as par for my course. I think going forward I will only notate if there was an out of ordinary revision.]

Watercrafts

So looking forward to getting back out onto the water!

Some years back - it feels like a lifetime ago - we used to go regularly to a lake not too far from the Mothership to kayak and row (well, Papa Rooster preferred using his little battery onboard motor to rowing). The feeling of being on the water is just amazingly relaxing to me. I AM a water baby, after all - astrologically, anyway.

It was such a relief, floating on the water. Back then, I was in the old job, stressed, all the time. Being on the water, the gentle rocking, was an escape for just a little bit. I made time to go on summer weekends, which was a feat in and of itself, considering I didn't have a car yet then, so Sissy and I were beholden to the express bus schedule. And, we found vacation spots where we could take our watercraft, places where we could rent pontoon boats for more power that was still gentle - Papa Rooster's dream.

That led me to the lake house fantasy. A getaway where I could keep the watercrafts so we wouldn't have to haul them up, then off, the cars each time. Back then, I was making buckets of money. But had no time. So the place had to be near enough to the city. But that drove up the price. There was a sweet spot, and I searched for it. And then, reality hit. The spots that were close enough were also southerly enough to be prone to climate change linked toxic algae blooms - that made the lakes unusable, the properties un-Air BnB-able, and therefore too much of a financial stretch and reach. The dream morphed into seeking a saltwater option. But again, climate change was an issue, turning many of those flood-prone, and uninsurable. And there was the question of how to find time to actually get out and use these places, and maintain them, or make enough money to hire someone to do it, and sacrifice all of the other vacations. And then I would never get off the hamster wheel. And then COVID hit, and all the houses got snatched up, and priced even beyond my stretched comfort levels. Especially with my then-reduced income while I was pursuing The Project. It was a lovely fantasy - that did not fit my reality.

Two years ago, though, still in the throes of COVID quarantine and work frenzy, I learned of an option to go more regularly - a spot near the Mothership to keep the watercrafts, a neighborhood association-maintained dock that was open to some outsiders. After I left BigLaw and joined BigBank, my goal was to join and realize the dream of work/life balance. But then I had to take and pass all of those licensing exams last year - there wasn't time; the summer slipped away. And then when I went to get an application on Juneteenth last week, post-Father's Day, the new member application asked for current member sponsors - such a remnant of exclusivity, so contrary to the Juneteenth spirit, and the Father's Day dream fulfillment...

Papa Rooster's favorite lobster meal for Father's Day 2023.

... seemed in danger of a major bust, and I worried I shouldn't have raised hopes at all. It was discouraging, but I thought I'd call to ask for alternatives to the sponsors. Turns out the requirement wasn't so stringent after all. Very glad I asked, and turned on as much charm as I could muster shy of obsequiousness. But with information in hand, I got Mother Hen's help for photos and measurements for the applications, and submitted our application, and we're in!

So it's taken all this time to make this new dream a reality, and until now to get to the brink of finding out whether this will scratch the itch....

We are so close now to evicting our kayaks and canoe from the Mother Garden! They really weren't the best garden ornaments; they deserve to be put to their highest and best use. And we, my sweet Mother Hen and Papa Rooster, Sissy and Lil' Bro, and I, after all my toils and troubles, WE all deserve to live our best lives, too. Soon, so soon I can almost taste it!

Pleasing Peas Plus Plant Poses

The Jardin in June - jumping.

With weekends away of late, it feels like I miss out on the day to day developments, and when I am back, the plants that are still alive mature by leaps and bounds.

Over the past week, the sugar snap peas went from just vines with nearly open buds and immature pods ...

...to vines with some ready to eat peas. 

Well, one ready to eat pod - and it was tasty, freshly washed by the rain (well, I hope it was "washed" and not dirtied or acidified by the shower, because it's in my tummy now).

(The sugar snap peas were the only things I got around to planting from seed this year.)

The dianthus had burst open in all its color. 

And I finally caught the day lilies during the day.

One of the red miniature roses bloomed. 

And then there was bittersweet - pretty, but not planned, so it will go; but first, but first, a photo of the striking little purple flowers with the yellow middles.

This year will be hit or miss as far as what comes up. Plants that had survived in years past through far harsher conditions succumbed. And it wasn't a particularly cold Winter, just dry. I probably should have started watering earlier when the Spring rains didn't come. Instead, the maple trio lost their early leaves, and one of them has yet to bounce back. Ah well. Survival of the fittest.

About Last Night

Philharmonic in the Park!

So glad I decided to get out on the UWS after returning from an earlier evening event and walk east through Central Park, just to see whether I might be able to find a spot so late. I had this event on my calendar, but had had second thoughts, because of the rain, because I had no one to accompany me... I needn't have fretted - the Great Lawn is, indeed, great and large. And the day's  showers didn't leave the ground as wet or muddy as I'd worried. The temperature and evening were pretty ideal for being outside.

Sure, the acoustics could have been better, but it's a park, after all. And when I moved closer to the front toward the speakers, the sound was decidedly clearer, and the din of my fellow thousands of picnicking and chatting  concertgoers was less distracting. I guess it pays to go early and stake out a good spot in the range of the speakers - but then you contend with the elements for longer, have to bring food, comfy seating, gather company... My impromptu stop-in was just right for the time I was willing to commit (virtually none), and equipment I was willing to carry through my day at work and to other events (minimal - rolled up rain pants), and level of interest in symphonic orchestral music (passing, at best) - so, it was perfect for me for this NYC summer rite of passage.

It was a different experience from the last time I did this, long ago, as a summer associate event with the last law firm. Back then, the recruiting staff went first to stake spots. Everyone had matching firm-branded beach towels as take home favors. There were boxed picnic dinners and wine. There were about ten of us, whiling away the wait time by playing Trivial Pursuit, an early 1980s version in the early 2010s, and laughing audibly enough at the clearly no longer correct answers that other concertgoers hushed us, repeatedly. The partner that I followed through my law firm career was healthy then, and enjoyed that outing so.

THAT, older, version of attending Philharmonic in the Park is the quintessential one, the rosy gossamer ideal of free New York City summer cultural entertainment. It all appeared so corporate recruitment brochure photoworthy. It was, in part, that memory, the inability to replicate that idealized experience, that made me hesitate to attend this year.

But I was already not happy back then, logging too much time at the office. Tonight, I had no company, no food, no towel, no companion. But I had time - to attend TWO after work events, to be spontaneous, to work the event into my life and my schedule my way. And when the first vantage point was not fantastic, I got up and moved myself to a better one. And, again, at the end of the evening, for a better view of the finale fireworks.

Not so stuck in one place anymore. Fitting my experienced life to my reality. That's a nice change.

May We Garden?

A study in compare and contrast, in the garden, anyway...

Compare: The Mother Garden in mid-May, lush and abundant, as always, with clematis ...

... and giant peonies, larger than my hand. 

And then, contrast...

The Jardin: In late May, messy and unkempt, bearing the weeds of neglect, ...

... and the consequences of a very dry Spring. Though that's not an excuse; I DO own a hose. There are just a few showy perennial performers, and a survivor, to claim as triumphs: the first rose,...

... honeysuckle, ...

... the latest in my attempts to reintroduce lemon thyme (I tried, sorta, to keep it watered), ...

... armeria maritima ("sea thrift").

Those are the few plants that are supposed to be in the Jardin. Much of the rest, not so much. So the compost-in-place method of weeding has begun. Hopefully there will be more time for it, now that big home projects and big travel and big family commitments are out of the way. But there's LIVING to be done, too. LIVING always competes with place setting.