pomegranatesandpaper

Monday

My garden looks the best it has all summer.

 

Pouring rain at 6:50 p.m. and my bed is rocking from two tired dogs who are sleeping and running after squirrels. They are even squeakly woofing in their sleep. I am cold and hungry and want my dinner, but I don't want to get off the bed because I'll wake them up and then they will be pestering me for some of my dinner though they've had theirs.

It reminds me of when the kids were little. "Don't bother them when they are quiet!" was a mantra in our house. What are they watching on TV? Don't bother them! What is he making in the sandbox? Don't bother them! Why is he playing with matches? Ok, we weren't that crazy.

But nothing made us more nuts than well-meaning relatives who would interrupt the blessed attention that a tired child was giving to a Mr. Rogers episode or a tub of Leggos. Don't bother them or they are yours.

So to with doggies.

Mr. Pom got it into his head that we had to go to The Cottage this weekend to make sure it was still standing or not afloat in water because, mainly, we hadn't been there in 4 weeks and had not turned off the water to the house, which we usually do.

I knew he was right, but Fall Mayhem has arrived at my office. It is a regular occurence, Mayhem's visit. It coincides with the first brisk days and the barest tinge of crimson on the treetops. Once Mayhem arrives, it stays for at least two months and I am chained to a laptop as we try to catch up on the year end stats of what we have done and what we have not. (Or as we Catholics say in the Act of Contrition, "Forgive me for what I have done and what I have failed to do".)

I was persuaded to take my laptop with me, and was promised oysters and lobsters and cappuccinos brought to my chair. None were. But I did spend a delightful two hours fast asleep on the beach in the sun, had a hamburger and some of a maple walnut ice cream cone, and watched Mr. Pom try to ignore a circle of very talkative and noisy women who were discussing everything under the sun that I could relate to, yet inexplicably drove him crazy.

Unfortunately, our youngest child of the dog variety decided to go a little nuts and never slept most of either night; Mr. Pom fell on some muddy rocks and hurt his wrist; and I pulled all my hair out of my head over how much time my work project was taking.

But as Mr. Pom says, it was all worth it for that two hours on the beach.

Or not.

 

Mr. Pom says I get my cooking mojo come September.

 

 

Insanely happy to be home. Even happy it is cold and rainy. I have on my woolly slipper socks from Bath and Body Works and just got an email from The Princess who is in Cinque Terre where it is warm and sunny. Mr. Pom is perversley putting on on shorts and a golf shirt so he can pretend he is still on the Cape. We are about to have cream of tomato soup, made from farmer's market heirloom tomatoes, milk, and Humbold Fog goat cheese.

Hungry!

I have a new Better Homes and Garden, Country Living UK, and Cooking Light.

Cozy!

I am not going to do the work I brought home.

Happy!

 

Say Yes

Do you know where we went?

 

 

Or why these girls looks so apprehensive?

 

Flu shots?

Dentist?

No -

 

 

 

A much nicer place than those - just rather butterflies-in-the-stomach-inducing!

 

 

 

 

We were there Just To Look! Not to buy, too soon, too early, but you know, she wanted to feel it was real, this engagement of hers, she wanted some wedding experience, especially with The Fiance in Italy for the month and her job so stressful, and starting grad school. She wanted a little taste of bridal cake.

 

Rather surreal, to say the least.

 

 

After all, what was odder - that I was accompanying my first born child to select the gown she would wear to be married in, or that Audrey from Say Yes to the Dress was our consultant?? The funny part was, after the giggling was over, we felt like we were with people we'd known all our lives.

 

Yes, we met Randy, Audrey, the alterations manager, the owner, and saw most of the sales consultants that are featured on the show. Yes,  we went partially because of the novelty of it and as an experience to be had. No, we didn't apply to be filmed, though we watched the set up for and the beginning of a segment being filmed. 

 

 

See the camera behind the mirror? They stand on packing boxes and get The Money Shot of the bride looking into the mirror. Our dressing room was next to the one used in the show and The Princess stood on the very same platform and looked into the same mirror used on every segment.

 

We saw brides in Duchess Satin, in lace, in tulle; brides in fishnet, damask, and silk. We saw white gowns, ecru, beige, and even pink. We walked down aisles festooned with more veils than a nunnery, heard at least five different languages twirling around brides in sequins, ruching, and plunging necklines. We watched brides modeling for webcams, for moms, sisters, friends.

The halls were filled with the rustle of organza and silk and young women flew by with armfuls of tulle as dresses appeared on racks and disappeared into rooms and young women who entered in jeans and flats came out as Brides in Alencon lace with designer silhouettes.

Here's the thing:  it wasn't an amusement park ride. We  were waited on, assisted, helped, styled, cossetted, gowned, veiled, and bouqueted. Audrey and an intern pulled gown after gown for us, keeping within our price point and styles. They made suggestions, brought in some they thought she should try, left us alone to think about it, and withheld their own opinions until they heard ours. They let us take our time, never rushed us, and gave out a lot of hugs.

The Princess came in and out of the dressing room more times than I can count, wearing floaty gowns, weighty gowns, billowing gowns, tight gowns, white gowns, beige gowns, fluffy gowns, fitted gowns. Everyone looked at me, waiting to see my expression, to check if my eyes were reddening or filling up with tears, and I was observing it all with a third eye and wondering why I didn't feel anything other than, "how pretty!", why all I could think of was how she liked to dress up as a child and put on all the clothes in her dresser, or walk around in a nighgown and scarf positioned like a veil. And what was wrong with me that I wasn't bawling or at least choked up and instead felt kind of tired and slightly bemused and even a little weary thinking we still had lunch to get through and another appointment at JCrew?

And then she emerged from the dressing room for the tenth time and we no longer noticed the arctic air conditioning or our growling stomachs, because there was The Princess wearing what was instantly obvious to all of us was  The Gown,  and  we were dumbstruck at the transformation of our little girl into a BRIDE, and  all of us - including The Princess - open mouthed and almost shy to say it out loud. But no, it was too soon! We weren't ready! We had just come to look!

And this is when all their years of business kicks in, and Audrey said, "why don't you come into The Big Room where the lighting is better and you have more room", and she led us into The Room.

My daughter walked into the room, past other brides to be standing on  daises wearing their gowns and looking in mirrors at themselves, and past mothers of brides, adjusting veils and maids of honor spreading out trains, and little siblings running through the waterfalls of veils, and the film crew setting up cameras, and as she entered, all eyes turned to The Princess in her gown and  ribbon-edged veil and silk bouquet of pink peonies that another consultant kindly thrust into her hand, and everyone whispered, and she looked like Belle, and she stood before the huge triptych mirror in front of the room, and her lower lip quivered, and her cheeks blushed, and my eyes watered and my throat constricted and my lip quivered along with hers, and her father looked at me and said, this is it.

 

 We said yes to the dress.

She was whisked off for measurements, and we cancelled our next appointment, and texted The Fiance and took photos, and walked to Union Square for lunch.

And although the wedding is still a long way off, The Princess has the photographs we took of her in her gown, and she checks them on her phone a couple of times a day to remind herself that it is real.

And here it is, our very own  Money Shot*:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Have you ever seen a more beaming bride???

 

 

*We're sorry; you know no one sees the gown before the wedding!  You'll just have to wait with the rest of us!

The Review

 

We both learned several things:

1. No one goes to the opening acts. Especially if there is are tornadoes flying around.

 

    2. If they arrive before the main act, they spend the entire time taking FB pictures of themselves making out with their partners,  or with their friends, or with the cute chicks/guys next to them...with flashes. What nerds.

 

 

 

    3.    The main act doesn't come out until after ten.

 

    4.  The second they walk out, the distractions of FB photo taking and going for beers ends and everyone jumps out and remains on their feet for the whole concert. 

 

 

    5.   There are strobing chandeliers,  great light effects, huge African drums, lyrics everyone knows, and people hopping up and down everywhere.

 

6.     Instead of lighters, everyone lifts cell phones in the air (better to video with).

 

 

7. Bless your kid's heart cause she warned you that everyone will dance the entire time even though it's at Radio City and so you wore your comfortable shoes and dance your butt off (since it's dark).

   8.  The formerly bored New York audience of hipsters are shouting out, "Blake's got a new face" and "Did you make your bed?" and clapping along.

 

  9.  Despite the fact that you drove there in a hurricane, have worked all day, it's after ten on a school night, and you are 25 years older than the average age in the hall, and just paid 8 bucks for a box of M&Ms, you keep up with every single one of them, singing, dancing, yelling, and clapping for over an hour.

 

 

 

    10.  And when they come back onstage for the encore, you are screaming with the best of them when they finally sing "Horchata" and "Walcott" ( and you  know every lyric, too).

 

 

 

 

The next day, you're not even as dog-tired as you'd thought you'd be. So there's talk of a Yankee game mid-week, and looking at tickets for the next concert (Avett Brothers).

 

I'd say that empty nesting isn't too bad, but I did spend a good portion of the concert texting one of the birdies and sending her video files. And of course, the requisite t-shirt is on its way to her. It's great to have your kids bring your youth back to you (especially after you lost it chasing after them!).

Hippie-sters

Mr. Pom and I are going to a concert tomorrow. At Radio City.

No, it's not time for The Rockettes.

We are going to see Vampire Weekend.

 

 

 

 

 

And indie rock band, all grads of Columbia, sound reminiscent of Paul Simon's Graceland album ( organ, drums, a lot of piano, dance in your seat music, nerd-rock/new Talking Heads/afro-pop), derided for being privileged punks, and songs about Cape Cod summers.

 

 

I know. I know.On a Thursday night, no less!

We are so hip.

(Ok, so I had never even heard of them a month ago, but since The New College Student played it at The Cottage, I have been listening to their 2 CDs. Then I started obsessively playing it at work with headphones, bouncing up and down in my office chair while tediously reviewing trial calendars. When I heard they were at Radio City and sold out I was all like, oh, damn, wish I'd known. And then today I remembered: STUBHUB!!)

And so we're going.

And Beach House is opening for them! (Yeah, have no idea who that is but off to Itunes to find out).

Now, I just have to make Mr. Pom listen to it all before we go because all he said was, "Is that the obnoxiously loud music The New College Student was playing?"

So yeah, basically - he's my ride.

And what a great ride he is!

Love you, Mr. Pom!!

(Just a little worried - what do really middle aged parents wear to concert "full of hipsters", to quote TNCS??)

I'm thinking jeans, flats, white peasant top?? (Blackbird - I know you'll style for me.)

 

 

And TNCS - you know I so would have paid for you to come up Friday and bought the expensive Friday night tickets if the bus had gotten in before 8:00. After all, you are my music wing man woman.

 

9/11

We were in the city on Saturday. For a most wonderful outing. We didn't dwell on the date, but focused on our excitement and happiness. Later on in the day, we went downtown. It was circus-like: crowded, busy, touristy.

I couldn't find the weight of that day in the sun, the crowds, the demonstrations, and the traffic.

And then on the gray, damp Sunday morning, there it was.

 

 

 

The weight of the day.

 

 

 

The underside of it all.

 

 

In repose.

 

 

Returning to the earth, like all things.

Delightful

Remember my friend,  Dilly  the Volunteer?

 

 

He was a seed dropped by a bird, a seed that saw an opportunity to be hidden against my concrete pineapple until he was too big to be confused with a weed. A lovely opportunist.

By September, Dilly had become much more brazen, established in his secure space, he flaunted his presence, threw out his tendrils and fronds, and ostentatiously grew and grew and grew.

 

 

Dilly is greeted by everyone who walks up the path to the door. He is patted on the head by Mr. Pom each day. He is admired by all, and even the pups stop to take a sniff. He is handy, too, for snips to drift onto fish or veggies.

Let opportunity take you by surprise. Take a chance. Sneak in where you don't belong. Enter through the bathroom window and settle in before anyone notices. When its too late to be thrown out, flaunt your beauty and be your best self.

 

 

BONJOUR SEPTEMBRE!

 

After our first summer as homeowners on the Cape, I am sure that many of you will assume that I am mourning the passage into September. Be assured that I am not. I can honestly say that we had such a splendid summer that I  have had my fill of it, and I say that not in a negative manner, but without any sarcasm: I have been totally filled up by summer, and believe that I am sated enough to last at least until December, and I am happy to get back into the routine of being home.

I welcome September here at pomegranatesandpaper with a new look to the blog.  I was busy tearing apart my art room and making trips to Ikea with Mr. Pom to buy new storage items, when out of the blue and  into my inbox came a delightful message from Charlotte Lyons. She had been surfing through my blog and felt that I needed a new look for fall, and, she rightfully chided me, I had next to nothing identifying me by name anywhere!

But Charlotte wasn't just nudging me as a friend to give some serious consideration to updating the blog, which I will be the first to admit, has languished this year. No, Charlotte took the time to  make me a new banner.  Isn't it lovely! That wasn't the end of it though. She thoughtfully sent it to me in two different sizes, and when I couldn't get it to fit, she logged onto my blog and went in and actually tinkered with it and changed the formatting.

Thank you, Charlotte, so much! I am continually wowed by the generosity of the artists that I have met in person and in the blogosphere. Charlotte has been a real role model for me in finding creative ways to teach classes on a small scale in our own backyards, so to speak.  (I am now nudging Charlotte to find a new time and place for a craft class before Christmas. It's not too late, Charlotte, really! We had such fun last winter!)

ACK!! ART IS, THE EAST COAST ART RETREAT, CLOSES REGISTRATION FOR OCTOBER WORKSHOPS TOMORROW!!!!

HURRY!!!

If you haven't already registered for the coolest mixed media art retreat this side of the Mississippi, then scurry over to Art Is and sign up before the close of day tomorrow, Labor Day!

 

Art Is...Wickedly Good

REGISTRATIONS CLOSE SEPTEMBER 7

In 2010, Art Is...You will celebrate its 4th anniversary under the theme of ART IS....WICKEDLY GOOD.  

October 7-12, 2010

We have some wickedly good plans in place. The Land Of Oz can be found at the Danbury Plaza Hotel.  OZ is right down the yellow brick road from Metro North, allowing for day attendees. It is a 40 minute drive from Westchester and the airport, or an hour from NYC and Hartford.

 

 

 

 

 

Head on over and take a look at the teachers and their workshops.  The faculty includes Keith LoBue, Diana Trout, Pamela Huntington, Laurie Meseroll, Jane Davila, Taryn Reece, Angela Huggins, Elin Waterston, Lesley Venable, Michael de Meng, Kecia Deveney, KC Willis, Diane Russell-Horn, Pamela Hastings, Kimberly Moore, Michael Albert, Judy Gula, and Jenny Heid & Aaron Nieradka.

 

A special event is held each night, and on Sunday evening, you can dine with Jo Packham, the founder of Where Women Create!

 

In addition, I will be leading early morning journal workshops, Heart and Soul,  that are included in the retreat package.

Please do not miss out on this great event - it grows bigger every year, but always retains its uniquely feel of an intimate party with a handful of friends gathered together to create, talk, laugh, and find a place for their spiritual heartwork in a turbulent world.

Wickedly Good Schedule Thursday, October 7 9:00am - Registration Opens 10:00am - 5:00pm Workshops 7:00pm - Wickedly Good Art Crawl Friday, October 8 8:30am - Heart and Soul with Mrs Pom 10:00am - 5:00pm Workshops 1:00pm - Luncheon 5:30pm  - Show n Tell 7:00pm Cereal Art with Michael Albert (Pj's optional) Saturday, October 9 8:30am - Heart and Soul with Mrs Pom 10:00am - 5:00pm Workshops 1:00pm - Luncheon 5:30pm - Show n Tell 7:00 - 11:00pm East Coast Art Trunk plus Believe in Miracles Auction Sunday, October 10 6:00am - Elephant Trunk Flea Market   9:30am - Heart and Soul with Mrs Pom 10:30am - 5:30pm Workshops 1:30pm - Luncheon 5:30pm - Show n Tell 7:00pm - Wickedly Good Banquet with Jo Packham

 



 

 

 

Notebooks and the Smell of Pencil Shavings

It's 85 degrees here with a tropical storm pending and the air is thick with humidity. I have that special headache, the kind I get between the ears from the barometric pressure and lack of sleep. Last night, we let the dogs sleep in our room for the second night in a row. Rather than run the large downstairs air conditioner, on its last legs, we let them stay in our room, which means technically, on our bed. Two. Large. Labs. On my bed.

So on both nights, I ended up in MM's old room, on his lumpy twin mattress and with only the ceiling fan to bring relief.  It was a pleasure to sleep alone and not have the bed heaving as two dogs jumped on and off as they grew hot and cold, or scratched an itchy ear, or panted salubriously at 3:00 a.m. "I feel like I'm growing fur,"Mr. Pom said and we both agreed that come heat or hurricane, they are sleeping in their own beds crates tonight.

What? You think there is a little transference going on? You think we are infantalizing the dogs in place of the children?  I think you are right.

Despite the sticky ickiness of the weather,  the switch has clicked and summer is over. It is Autumn here, if only in my mind. When I am not panting like a dog myself or rushing into stores to swallow gulps of air conditioning, I am nesting, reorganizing, prepping menus in my mind, and mentally reviewing my wardrobe to see if I can work a few sweaters into the mix. Not hard, really, because the office air conditioning is so blasted cold that I have yet to go without a jacket and one day I had on a jacket and my winter wrap, which I keep in a file drawer, wrapped around my legs. Tres chic: office bag lady, which is right in keeping with the runway this fall.

 

(Check out Goddammit, I'm Mad! for hilarious reader photos interpreting this je ne sais quoi look.)

 

I am ready for a basket of crisp apples, the aroma of a pie baking (hopefully by someone other than me), and the first beef stew of the season. It is time to buy mums, gourds, and laugh at Martha Stewart in costume as The Evil Sorcereress on the cover of her annual Halloween issue (seriously, did she even need a costume for this character??)

 

 

So what shall I do on this long holiday weekend? We are not going to The Cottage, which has nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with Summer Being Over. And not one child is home. Hee hee! This is what I have planned:

 

• Friday night movies with Mr. Pom
• Saturday morning breakfast with same
• Farmers Market for heirloom tomatoes - oooh - how about the Warwick Farmers Market on Sunday morning?? And then a spot of tea at Charlotte's Tea Room?
• NYC trip - not sure where yet but think The High Line is on the list

(Photo by Jonathan Flaum)

 

 

• Walk in Nature Study Woods with the puppers
• Clean the Art Room!!!
• Move Mr. Pom's ugly desk out o' the house and put back together The Artist's glass desk for him to use in MM's room and turn it into his lair.
• Make The Artist's old/old room on our floor into my painting/sewing studio and turn The Art Room into my boudoir/wardrobe/writing room.  (Think boudoir salon that only one person fits in....)
• Go to Wave Hill and paint. (Kathy and Sal: are you busy all weekend??)

 

Whatever I do, it will be in the direction of organizing, cooking, and fluffing up the house.  It will involve some plein air painting and plein air painting follow up on those I started on the Cape. It will definitely consist of a few naps and probably some family get-together, but as Mr. P and I are alone this weekend, maybe someone else will invite us out...

Today, the office closed early. My mind reeled with all the things I could or accomplish. Lunch at this place or that, bookstores, Home Goods......or just come home, eat some cream cheese on cranberry raisin crackers, turn on the a/c in the bedroom, lie on the bed, and write to you.

 

You win!! Have a great weekend and let me know your plans - maybe we'll run into each other at Billy's Bakery.....