Holiday Decoration on Debris Pile @ Breezy Point, 11/11/12

Dear Readers,

This Holiday Season, I would like to suggest making donations toward the Sandy Relief Effort in lieu of gifts.  The grass roots mobilization toward Sandy Relief is really commendable. Every posting I read on Facebook warms my heart: donations of food, diapers, clothing, solar generators, sleeping bags, gift cards, clean-up duties, socks, photo restoration, underwear, books, volunteers, volunteers, and more volunteers. From the East End, people are driving daily—some on buses and some in their own cars—100 miles to the west to help those in need. So if you are so inclined, please consider making donations to these worthy organizations this holiday season. I am in no way affiliated with any of these groups. I also encourage you to do your own research before you donate. The information I am providing here was collected from the organization's websites as well as from first-hand experience.

Breezy Point, 11/11/12

Paddlers for Humanity

Accepting donations for East End Cares. Please read about this phenomenal group HERE.
100% of funds given to East End Cares go directly to relief efforts.

From the p4h.org website:

"Monetary Donations -  Secure online tax-deductible donations can be made to Paddlers for Humanity,
a registered 501(c)(3) non-profit organization.  All funds will immediately be given to East End Cares."  

You can make a donation here:  http://www.p4h.org/


Power Rockaways Resilience

This is a group that moved into The Rockaways swiftly after the storm and brought in power. The first I saw of them, they were providing solar powered charging stations for cell phones. This gave the storm victims the ability to use their phones to communicate with their families, insurance companies, jobs, etc.  Many of these people, almost 5 weeks later, still have no electricity.

From their website:

"Power Rockaways Resilience is a project of the CMRC (Coastal Marine Resource Center) which is a 501C3 so all your contributions will be tax deductible. Also, please note, this is a flexible funding campaign, so any donations will be available immediately and immediately put to use for the benefit of the Rockaways."

Please read about their fundraising campaign here; it ends on December 20th @ midnight. The campaign receives all funds contributed. 


CARE FOR SANDY

Breezy Point, 11/11/12

And very dear to my heart, is CARE FOR SANDY.  From their website:

"CARE stands for Cherished Albums Restoration Effort. Our mission is simple: to offer FREE digital restoration services for individuals and families whose salvaged photos have been damaged by October's devastating hurricane."

Some of the most heartbreaking experiences I have had @ Breezy Point have been finding the random, damaged photographs that are just lying around on the ground. This picture of an unidentified child in a snow suit was in Ann's backyard. She has no idea who it is...I get teary every time I look at it.

As CARE FOR SANDY says,:

"Because whereas cars, homes and jobs are replaceable, images of mom & dad's honeymoon, baby's first steps and great great grandpa's sole surviving portrait are priceless. Photos contain deep-rooted significance. Photos preserves stories! Photos foster soul and spirit."

So if you know any storm victims who could use these services, please refer them to CARE FOR SANDY.  This group is not yet set up to take financial donations, however they do need equipment. Please take a look at their list of needs HERE. 

And from their website:

"CARE for Sandy is not yet a federally registered not-for-profit charity, which means it cannot yet legally accept cash contributions. It’s a grassroots effort, currently being coordinated/web administrated/designed/written/ideated by a team of one from a home office in Park Slope, Brooklyn. That said, if you're an attorney who would like to help us achieve not-for-profit status, we're all ears!"

So, if you are an attorney or you know an attorney who would like to help out in the Sandy Relief effort, please reach out to this invaluable group.

The Generosity of  Spirit that I have seen as result of this natural disaster has reinforced my love of humanity. Anything that we do to help, any little bit of attention given to this  effort is invaluable. The help will be needed for a long, long time.

I thank you with a full heart and wish you and your families a Healthy, Happy, Peaceful Holiday Season.

I will continue to expect good things....

Breezy Point, 11/20/12

Me & Ann @ Breezy, 11/20/12

November 20, 2012

Headed out to Breezy again today; this time I went by myself. I got into the car @ 6:00 a.m. I felt like I was running a little bit late, but I had not slept very well and missed the clock when it went off. It was chilly today, overcast and gray like November is on Long Island.

I hit rush hour traffic, but heard some great music that made the trip more enjoyable. As I got onto the Belt Parkway, it slowed down around JFK and then again near the enormous landfill. I made my way to Exit 11S, and due to the heavy traffic, I noticed a few things that I hadn’t seen on previous trips: stray boats lying in the reeds in odd positions—displaced by the water and wind; strange, unrecognizable pieces of colorful debris scattered over wide areas, and vehicles that I couldn’t tell if they were parked or had been deposited in their positions by the storm.

I drove into Breezy and saw a new sign of renewal: The first stoplight was working! As it turned from red to green and I drove down the road however, the rest of the place was still a mess. Yes, there was progress being made: Huge piles of garbage gone; clear open spaces where I think there used to be homes—now bulldozed away as though the lives there never existed, and fewer volunteers. The fewer-volunteers part was disturbing. It was obvious that there was an enormous amount of work that still needed to be done, but as days rolled into weeks, the storm had become an old story. Old stories do not draw throngs of fresh volunteers. The people who were around were indeed working hard, but they looked tired.

Looking Through the Wall, Breezy, 11/20/12

I arrived and was greeted by Ann and her daughter Lula, two of her daughter’s friends—Lauren and Meghan--and another pal—Ian. The 6 of us were ready for a hard day’s work. It had been suggested by Jim that all of the sheetrock be pulled off the walls from about 6 inches below the crown molding. This should come down along with the insulation behind it. There was probably mold there and as depressing, overwhelming and “expensive-to-replace-it-all” this sounded, it was decided that it had to be done.

The system was 1-2 people would make their way around the room and do the measuring. The rest of us followed behind and scored the lines with utility knives and then pulled the sheetrock off and the insulation out. At one point, Ann was turned sideways and speaking to me, her face in a silhouette. As she spoke, I could see her breath—it was cold—probably 10 degrees colder than it had been on Sunday. We put our masks in place and the work began. In short order, our layers of jackets and sweaters were stripped off as the dust flew among the room of dedicated workers.

Bird's Eye View of the Work in Progress, 11/20/12

I thought about putting a step stool in the car before I left but had not done it; Ann had told me that she had 3 ladders and we figured that would be enough. One of the ladders turned out to be too tall for the room however, so we were down to 2. I went back to my car and found a modeling stool and brought that in—it worked just fine as a step stool. The work was filthy and exhausting. The strange angles that my body got into while I was scoring the lines made me very aware of my obliques and triceps; I knew then that I was going to feel it tomorrow.

Scoring the sheetrock was an awkward job. The lines were relatively straight but that didn’t mean that the sheetrock came off along those lines. Weirdly, misshapen pieces would come off the wall. I figured out that the dampness of it helped determine how easily it came off. I also figured out that there were different kinds of sheetrock. Some of it in the hallway was extremely hard and cement-like in its nature. We started a contest to see who could pull off the largest, cleanest cut. Oh, the thrill of small victories! And then, I pulled a piece off that was covering holes in the wall; these holes were stuffed with newspaper. WOW! Remember the model Marla Hansen who had her face slashed in Central Park? Well, I am here to tell you that that happened in 1986—we saw the headline on the crumpled up, yellowed cover of the NY Daily News. We felt like archeologists discovering lost artifacts. It was nice to forget for a minute or two that we were tearing down the walls of Ann’s house in order to protect it from the mold delivered by the wrath of Sandy.

Finished! Breezy, 11/20/12

I will tell you that we did find mold. And when we did find it, we knew we had made the right decision to do this job. Everyone that I have met in Breezy has an exhausted, overwhelmed look about them. The decisions that they have to make, sometimes quickly and always in-unknown territory, are difficult, frightening and life altering. A small victory like—yes, there is mold here—confirms that correct decisions are being made under unspeakable circumstances. And, as frightening as it all is, the people who still have standing homes, albeit in terrible condition, have enormous gratitude.

The Awesome Crew @ Breezy on 11/20/12--Lula, Ian, Meghan, Lauren & Ann

So on this gray Tuesday in November, I got to work with a wonderful crew of people. We all worked toward the goal of making the house whole again. We got 2 bedrooms, a hallway and the steps leading to the basement (now that was a funky situation down there!) finished. A couple of days later, a crew of volunteer construction workers from Pennsylvania came in and did the rest of the hallway and the other two rooms.

The road ahead is a long one and one that will just have to be taken one step at a time.

I will continue to expect good things....

Breezy Point, 11/18/12

Salvaged Silverware @ Breezy Point, 11/18/12

Breezy Point    11/18/12

Last Sunday, I spent the day @ Breezy again with my sister. Jim and Casey came along this time. I woke early and made the sandwiches. Took them along with homemade Wowie Cake cupcakes (if you want this recipe for the simplest, most-delicious cake ever—just ask!), chips and water. The ride in was easy; not much traffic on this Sunday in November. Upon arrival, I could tell that things felt different.

On my first visit, which was about 2 weeks after the storm, the temperature was in the 60’s, the sun was out and there was a real sense of high-energy in the air.  People were everywhere: home owners, relief groups, volunteers, neighbors and friends. Everyone was happy to be alive, even though the neighborhoods were still covered in mounds of debris. Piles so high, sometimes you almost couldn’t see the damaged home behind them. Wet sheet rock and insulation, appliances, toys, clothing, pots and pans, file cabinets, mattresses—all out on the street waiting to be picked up and taken some place else. There seemed to be a lot of noise and activity everywhere. The background noise at the time consisted of the sound of gas-powered generators and the back-up warning beep on big trucks, as well as the low hum of conversation everywhere.  And the smells: salt water, a-slight-almost-imperceptible smell of mold and, the delicious smells of cooked food. There were free food stands all around the neighborhood: ribs, hot dogs, chicken soup and coffee. And mostly, there was a strong, vibrant sense of the human spirit; each person you met had it and shared it through conversation & hugs, smiles & tears or even just a slight nod.

Allstate Deluxe Homeowners Policy, Breezy Point, 11/18/12

It was different this visit. Nearly 3 weeks after the storm, now 10 degrees colder than the week before, the skies were overcast and a slight, stiff wind was coming off the ocean. Most of the enormous debris piles were gone. This was a relief to see because the piles are really depressing. When they run down the street, and you turn a corner and then they run down that street—that is really depressing. So now the piles are gone, and there, standing everywhere, are the exposed, destroyed homes of the inhabitants. 

There was still a lot of activity, but there wasn’t the sense of high energy that had been present and there were not as many people around. I think that the adrenaline has run off and now the long, hard climb of recovery lies ahead. In times of danger and calamity, we roll into survival mode and do whatever it takes to get the job done. However, at some point, we crash from that.

So on this day, Jim repaired the garage door that had been pushed off its track by the water. He also worked on pumping out the basement and dug a deeper trench to carry the water away. Casey swept up endless piles of dust and dirt, helped move furniture and was a sincere, giving volunteer—something that I find very impressive in teenagers. Lula arrived from NOLA, home for Thanksgiving break. This was her first time at the house since the storm….heart-breaking.

FDNY's Finest @ Breezy Point, 11/18/12

We fed the sandwiches and cupcakes to neighbors and FDNY volunteers. We left again at 3:00. There is no electricity, so you have to leave before dark. But you want to leave earlier than that because of the mass exodus from Breezy & the Rockaways. I have heard people say that it took them 3 hours just to get out of Breezy.

My emotional response from doing this work is interesting to experience. I find myself describing the situation to friends, and then I get choked up when describing a random, damaged almost beyond recognition, photograph of a child in a snowsuit that I found in Ann’s backyard. We do not know what child this is or which house the photo traveled from when it landed in Ann’s yard. The random, lost bits of people’s lives are what make me the most verklempt. I get teary and words catch in my throat. The losses are significant. 

I will continue, however, to Expect Good Things....

You can see the entire Breezy Point, 11/18/12 Photo Album on my FB page HERE.

American Flag in the Ruins @ Breezy, 11/11/12

November 11, 2012

On October 29^th, 2012, Super Storm Sandy ripped across the East Coast causing unprecedented damage to lives and property. I live on the East End of Long Island and prepared in the ways that I know I should. Batteries, lanterns, back-up water, charge the cell phone, batten down potential missiles. I live an old, tiny cottage and behind me is an older, enormous tree. I felt very concerned about this tree coming down on my roof. As the storm progressed and that ancient beauty began to drop her elderly, large branches, I kissed my cats goodbye and ran for it in the spitting, hissing rain to the safety of a neighbor’s much bigger house.

I slept there for the night and in the morning, returned to the cottage, which was intact with a yard full of debris from the large tree. Gazing at the undamaged roof and the intact windows, I vowed that I would not complain about any minor inconveniences I experienced as a result of the storm. No power, TV or Internet for a few days along with the gas shortages were problems that I would learn to live with. I knew via my transistor radio that damage was widespread and extensive.

Around 6:30 a.m., I got a text from my brother in Tulsa. He was checking on my safety and had bad news—there had been a fire in Breezy Point during the storm; 100 houses may have been lost. Our sister has a home in Breezy. Over the past few years, her home has been the holiday meeting place for those of us on the East Coast. My family is spread all over the country and for the couple times a year that we can get together, whatever number of us can do that, I am always very appreciative that she opens it up to us. As I get older, I feel more love and longing for my family. I had weathered my own storm with minor inconveniences; this news about Breezy brought tears to my eyes.

Yesterday, 2 weeks after the storm, finally feeling confident that the gas situation was ok, I was able to go to Breezy to help Ann at her home. It had not burned down, but the flooding damage was extensive. I was incredibly grateful that there was gas and I could lend a hand.

I got up at 4:30 and made 18 sandwiches: salami and cheese, turkey and cheese, egg salad. I packed homemade pumpkin muffins, sour cream & onion potato chips, cheddar popcorn & apples. Many of these things are some of Ann’s favorites—I kept that in mind while I was shopping. I wasn’t really sure who would eat the 18 sandwiches, but felt confident that there would be hungry people to eat them. My friend Kathee had generously donated $50 to use for any needs on the trip; I bought the groceries with her donation.

My friend Cynthia agreed to come with me; she had been to the Rockaways on a bus earlier in the week and wanted to help further. She arrived with a cooler for the 18 sandwiches, a case of water, lots of paper towels, garbage bags, gloves and a thermos for the hot, sugary Chai tea that I wanted to take to Ann.

Debris Pile @ Breezy, 11/11/12

We took off from my house around 6:30 and got to Breezy close to 8:30. The first sign of the devastation was the mountainous piles of debris along the road. Piles filled with scrap wood, bits of furniture, clothing, files in file cabinets, toys, food wrappers, letters, dishes and pans, appliances—you name it—it was there. Everything—EVERYTHING—that people owned was now in dirty, soggy, endless piles on the road.

There were lots of cars, lots of people and lots of volunteers. All along the main street from the entrance to the end, tents were set up: The Red Cross, Habitat for Humanity, FEMA, Operation Blessing, church groups, and private individuals who were giving away food: hot chicken soup, ribs, fresh baked goods, drinks of all kinds, coffee—it was heartwarming to see.

We arrived at Ann’s place. I got out of the car and we fell into an embrace. It is one thing to talk on the phone, but I always like to lay my eyes on people. Seeing them in person—that tells all. She was vertical and had most of her usual high-spirits. She looked tired as I expected and I was happy to see her sense of humor still in place. I introduced her to Cynthia and we broke out the still warm Chai tea. I think she teared-up when I pulled the ½ & ½ out of the cooler. “I brought this for you”, I said. “We are here to help in any way we can.”

The day progressed with numerous volunteer groups coming by to pitch in. We were personally helped by the following: Operation Blessing, Xavier High School Students, The Red Cross and 11 young & strong, polite and funny Air Force members from Mountain Home, ID (they devoured most of the 18 sandwiches).

Air Force Crew from Home Mountain, ID with Ann, 11/11/12

My eyes are welling with tears as I think of these people who came to help us. Ann’s home was just one still-standing, badly-damaged home in Breezy Point. And on a beautiful, unusually warm Sunday in November, these volunteers were pitching in to help her. In the midst of the all-encompassing mind-boggling destruction, I am thrilled to report that the human spirit is alive and well and thriving.

The scope of the devastation is beyond belief. If you have actually read this far along in my story, let me repeat what I just said: The Scope of the Devastation is Beyond Belief. The recovery and rebuilding process will take a long, long time. The buildings, cars and stuff can all be replaced. However, the people will have a harder time of it.

House separated from chimney @ Breezy, 11/11/12

There are not a lot of photographs of people in my story; I found them to be extremely fragile. They are tired and frightened and overwhelmed. Some have lost everything and are homeless. I even had trepidation about photographing the physical damage. I actually felt like a voyeur, like I was looking at private parts of people’s lives. When the fronts of homes are blown away and you can see inside what is generally a private space, it is a disturbing experience. When right-there-on-view-for-the-world-to-see are the remains of the furniture, the decorations and artwork, the toilet, loose clothing blowing in the breeze—for me, this was extremely startling. I felt very conscious of the fact that I did not want to exploit what I was seeing. I did not take these pictures for any reason except to share with you the extent of what happened and the level of devastation to so many lives. And I hope as a result of looking at this story, that you will keep all of this, especially the people, in your minds. Remember these people—any of whom could be us, our parents or siblings, our friends or neighbors. Remember them for they are going to need our help for a long, long time.

You can see my all of my photos from Breezy Point, 11/11/12 on my Ellen Watson Photography page on Facebook. While you are there, please "Like" my page!

So tell me, how is it that we are supposed to know that we are doing the right thing? This job of being a parent, is one that I have been doing for over 18 years now. There have been many countless experiences of feeling like I don't know if I am doing it correctly or not. Should I let him cry it out or should I pick him up (of course I picked him up). Should I send him to school when he is 4 and extremely shy or wait until the next year? I waited and he was more than eager and ready to go. Should I let him eat sugar and junk food and watch t.v.? No sugar for 3 years, very little junk food while I could control it, and only PBS for a long time. I loved more than anything else in my entire life the fact that I could stay home and participate fully in my son's childhood. I thank all of the people and circumstances that should be thanked for that opportunity.

I thought early childhood was tough, but then came the teenage years. The struggle has seemed endless. There has been very little "fun" in the high school years. Lots of disappointments and angst. My son, who I have always called a Renaissance Boy, has such diverse interests and such depth to him, that he has been bored out of his socks most of his time in school. He could care less about most of what is being taught. I totally get where he is coming from--I am exactly the same way. I don't like people talking at me and telling me what to do or what to study--especially all of those heinous endless wars that we keep getting ourselves into. I always wanted to go out in the field for instance, and get my hands dirty and learn about how to plant the seedlings and nurture them to harvest. Or purchase, measure and bake the ingredients into a hearty, healthy loaf of bread. I  always have and still do want to experience life--right now! 


So, here we are, we have dragged ourselves through most of his senior year of high school. The torture of getting the college applications done was completed. An amazingly interesting, progressive college accepted my son and they offered him a scholarship. We went to visit and he seemed genuinely excited. The problem was though, he was doing it all for us. Trying to please his parents and feeling like he didn't have a voice.

And now, it has all spilled over and feels like the bottom has fallen out. Not only does he not want to go to college, but he doesn't even want to finish high school.....6 weeks away and he doesn't want to go back. He can not tolerate ANOTHER MINUTE OF IT. Feels like he might lash out at someone he is so freaking bored out his mind......so what do we do? Actually, what can we do? He  is old enough to vote. He had to sign up for Selective Service (because it is the law) in order to qualify for those college scholarships. He drives and has traveled on his own to another country. He has worked for a number of years and buys all of his own musical equipment and clothing at this point.

Then I think, what about respect--my respect of him? What about the way I raised him to talk about how he feels--he is talking and his feelings are very strong.  Am I supposed to ignore those feelings he is expressing?  Does he have to graduate from high school? I don't think so. Would it be a good idea if he did? Of course it would...but what if he didn't?

Well, if he didn't something else would happen -- we just don't know what that is yet and it could be anything. He could very competently and not surprisingly land on his feet. The kid is a highly accomplished drummer. He has immense knowledge about music and art and lots of other diverse interests. He is a self proclaimed auto-didactic and has taught himself all of the things that feel really important to him. These wonderful qualities and traits are what make him the well rounded person that he is.

I will not abandon him. I will not drop him because he isn't following the status quo.
I will not do that.

This child is stretching and screaming and asking to be heard. I never had the guts or the balls or the confidence as a kid myself to shout out loud--"Hey, listen to me! I don't like this and I want to try it another way." Instead, I suffered in silence and as a result spent a good part of my life running away from reality. There is not one way to do anything...not one path...not one right or wrong. One Size Fits All does not exist in clothing, education or any other area of life. I have watched the spark go out of his eyes. I have seen the system and his experience in it take the light right out of him. I made many suggestions over the years about trying to do it another way, and was always met with anger and outrage by the society we are in. I received no support for my ideas. Eventually, I got tired from being the lone voice and got in line with the status quo and began the march--the conventional march towards the future. This is not a bad thing if you are comfortable in it and it works for you. But if you aren't and it doesn't, then it is an enormous burden.

So tonight, I break my silence of many months, having been bogged down by the day to day angst of this life, and say out loud: I have an open mind. Quality of life--today's life--is extremely important. Things generally work out in a way that is positive. I do believe, in spite of everything, that the universe is conspiring in my favor...I have to believe this.

And tomorrow, well, I will see what that brings.

I will continue, in spite of it all, to expect good things.

John Philip Souza and The Town Dump

Today, I had to make a trip to the Town Dump. In my town, there is no public trash service. If you want your trash picked-up, you have to pay a private company to do it. Or, you can buy a sticker @ the Recycling Center (this sounds better than Town Dump!) for $100.00 a year and cart your own trash and recycling to them. This is what I opt for and so each week, I pile all my trash into the car and make the trip to the dump site. Today was an exceptionally warm November day; it is supposed to get close to 70 degrees. This type of temperature does not do any favors for week-old trash. After I finished piling everything into the car, I got inside and quickly rolled down the windows. The smell of it all is just appalling; I mean beyond words. Fortunately, it is a short trip.

I pull into the dump and give a hello to the guy sitting in the booth; he checks to make sure I have the proper sticker on my bumper and waves me through. I always think about that guy's job. I mean, consider this: he sits inside a small booth all day long and waves people through with their trash, no questions asked. The only reason you would be stopped is if you didn't have the appropriate sticker on your car and then you would have to pay a $15.00 fee. I suppose anyone could drive in with anything in their car and throw it away. Wow...I have seen too many Law & Orders to start thinking about that!

The dump itself is sort of a dump. There is a shabby butler-type building with rusty holes in the ceiling and all kinds of frightening looking, greasy stains on the cement floor. It is open on two sides: one side for people to walk in and the other side for the dumpsters to be moved in and out. There are always flocks of seagulls there, hanging around and waiting for any sort of thing they might consider eating. Pretty amazing to think how they have gone from open waters to garbage dumps....I guess that would be considered evolution.

I actually think that it is a good idea to take my own trash to the dump. I certainly think about what I am doing every time I go. I take my bags of trash and toss them over the side into the enormous, dirty containers with everyone else's garbage, and say to myself: What is going to happen to all of this? Where does it go? When you stand in front of an enormous bin the size of the bed on an 18-wheeler full of who-knows-how-many-pounds-of-garbage, it can give you pause if you let it. Especially if you are there on a day when they are moving out a full dumpster and bringing in an empty one for all the new trash. The best day to go to the dump to really get yourself thinking about this is December 26th. That is a perfect day to witness what a throw-away society we are. Think about that this year when you are buying wrapping paper....

So anyway, today I got out of the car and opened up the back end. As I began to unload, I heard a very loud rendition of John Philip Souza's march, The Stars and Stripes Forever. You know the song I mean; they play it at all things patriotic. And I mean LOUD, just plain blasting out of a tinny little radio coming from the booth inside the dump. Now this booth is where the guy usually sits who manages the people as they dump their trash into the bins. When he is not sitting in there, he walks around checking out what you have thrown away; makes sure the newspaper doesn't get thrown into the magazine dumpster and that sort of thing. Sometimes, I try to leave things on the side of the dumpster, hoping someone will take it home. You know, something-that-is-still-useful-that-I-feel-terrible-throwing-out-but-don't-know-what-else-to-do-with. Usually when I do this, this man swoops down--sort of like the seagulls--and tosses it into the bin before I get back from my car again with my next bunch of trash. Anyway, today he was marching around and singing this song: da-da-dadada, dadadaaa.....da-da-da-da-da-da da-da-daaaa-da....you know the song?  He is kind of a short man, non-descript and marching--knees up and arms swinging--in a crisp, fresh sort of way. A pleasant smile on his face. He doesn't make eye contact with anyone, just makes his way through his rounds, picking up trash and keeping a general good order to everything in a brisk, efficient manner.

I try not to stare. I want to watch and take a picture and laugh and ask him why....why is he playing this music? I mean it would have been totally different if he had been playing Led Zeppelin or Earth, Wind and Fire; that would have just seemed like background music. But it wasn't that; it was a patriotic marching song. It was loud and clear and he was marching and singing along to it! And then I thought, well why not? I mean, here I am writing a blog post about it, for goodness sake. I am trying not to laugh out loud thinking about it as I write this inside the hushed library. And so again I will just say, Why Not?!

Expect good things....

Breath-taking November Beauty....

"Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace 

all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty."

Albert Einstein

Yesterday I pulled into my driveway. The gravel and dried leaves crunched under my tires. My radio was playing a classic-rock song by Queen. As Freddy Mercury crooned on, my eye caught movement in the backyard. I turned down the radio and shut off the ignition. There, nearly camouflaged by the autumnal colors, stood a male deer with a sizable rack on his head. He stood as still as a stone. I watched him through the windshield of the car; he was unmoving. I gathered up my belongings and quietly opened the door. I gingerly walked across the gravel until I reached the first stone of the walkway to the house and stopped. It was fairly quiet. I heard a distant car on the road a short distance away. There was a lone crow cawing across the yard and the breathing of this silent, strong buck.

We looked at each other; there was something so direct and still and steady in his gaze.
I said out loud: "You take good care. You are welcome and safe in this yard. You are beautiful."
It was a sweet moment---that steady, unmoving gaze watching me.
I took a breath and went inside the house.

In reference to Mr. Einstein's quote, here is a video that is so beautiful, I can barely think of
words to describe it; you have to watch it HERE.  It is a murmuration which is the proper name
for a flock of starlings. The event itself is a phenomenon which I have witnessed, 
but never to this extent.
Beyond that though, is the sheer joy and absolute awe of the two film- makers.
Watch it and pass it on....life is good!

Expect good things.....

A Long Time Gone....

Sunflowers, August 2011

If you are trying to be a vital player in this internet-texting-social media world, what I have done over the past 5 months is definitely not recommended. It is not a good idea to start a blog, write it for a while, get a little better at it, have a few people interested-reading-commenting on it and then just plain-old stop writing it. That is not a good idea.  It goes into the "Don't try this at home" category.

I don't even want to bore you with all of the reasons why that happened. Just know that I was very, very busy with my life and felt I had very little to give to anything other than the daily needs of whatever job I was working, my family, my household--never did get the grass cut before the landlord came by--and my own well-being.

Old Tractor, July 2011

Life right now is really racing by. Things feel like they are happening really quickly. Ned is a senior in high school and making his way towards the next chapter in his life....which will also be the next chapter in my life. There is much turmoil, unrest, and action happening in our country and around the world. I like the drive, the spunk, the energy in all of it.  I like the passion that people are feeling about what is happening to the world. I like being a part of the world. I think this is a good time to write about, document in photos and share with you. 

Rye Grass, July 2011

Expect good things.....

June 3, 2011

Rye Grass @ Balsam Farm, 6/2/11

I had an interesting experience this afternoon. I was headed over to Jim's and had to stop for gas (by the way--I saw gas for $4.79 for regular on North Main Street in East Hampton today!), so I pulled into Hess in Wainscott. This place has the cheapest gas in town, and so it is always busy. And today--this Friday afternoon in June--was no exception. Weekenders, landscapers, average folks like me.....all preoccupied with filling our tanks and moving on. I thought I would pay in cash, so I got out of the car and headed towards the cashier. About half-way to the register, I decided to use my debit card instead. So, I turned around and headed back towards the pump. I had to pass another car on the way. There was a woman standing there, and as I walked by she said: "Excuse me. Do you think you could help me out?" I asked her what she needed, and she said: "Can you help me with some gas? I don't have my wallet with me and I have to get back to Manhattan."

Two things happened to me in that moment. The first thing that happened was that I recognized that I was observing myself. And here is what I saw: I suddenly felt defensive and had thoughts like, "Do I look like a sucker? Do you think I am going to fall for a scam like this?" I realized I was shutting myself off from the conversation I was in with this woman. The second thing that happened was that I took a closer look at her. The main thing that I remember about her was that she looked real tired. In her face--I mean in her eyes--she looked tired. She was dressed nicely enough. She had on a wrinkled, denim sundress with a tee-shirt underneath. On her feet were black patent-leather-looking shoes that she was wearing like slippers. Her hair was pulled back into a windblown ponytail. I glanced into the car. There were two adults in the front seat--a man and an older woman. And there were two kids in the back seat. I quickly surmised that this woman was sitting in the back seat with them. It looked cramped and hot and I figured that was why her dress was wrinkled. And her face--she had a tiredness in her eyes that I could identify with.

I was fumbling with my wallet and had some cash out from my expected transaction with the cashier. I had a couple of $20's and a few singles. I found myself saying: "Well, I know it looks like I have a lot of money here, but I have to use it for other things. I can give you my singles." As soon as I said it, it felt like a really lame thing to say. I handed over the singles; she was extremely grateful and thanked me profusely. I turned and walked to my car and started filling up the tank. I saw her walk to the cashier.

I started to question myself and my reaction. I considered the situation: out of the 3 adults in the car, somehow she got nominated to solicit help for gas money. I thought, "What if I was in a situation like this? Would I be able to ask for help?" As I finished up, she got back to their car and began pumping gas. In other words, she went inside with the $8.00 I had given her and bought gas. I put my gas cap on and went back to speak to her. I asked her: "What are you going to do? How are you going to get home?" She told me that they would go as far as they could, and then stop to ask for help again. I went back to my car and took out a $20.00 bill and gave it to her. "Oh, thank you!" she said. "May you be blessed for your generosity."

I got in my car and drove away. I often feel tired from my life, and I feel broke a lot of the time. But I have work, and I have food, and I had money to put gas in my car today. I have my family and friends and my health. And I can only hope that I have the courage that this woman has. I hope I can ask for help when I need it. I may have been taken advantage of--maybe they were running a scam. But I am going to believe that they needed help, that she had the courage to ask for it, and that I gave it to them.


Expect good things....

Memorial Day Weekend

Irises @ EECO Farm, 5/29/11

Today was a perfect day. It really felt like a summer day, even though that day is still a few weeks off.  Where I live, Memorial Day is the "official start of summer".  Translation: the population of this tiny community explodes with people, cars, surf boards, long lines @ the restaurants, coffee shops and parking lots. The traffic will be completely nuts for the next 3 months, with lots of honking and crabby drivers everywhere....and I am glad because it is good for our economy. I am going to work really hard at not complaining about it all. We had a long cold winter and a longer wet spring....I am glad that it has stopped raining and the sun is out part of the time and that people are here to enjoy our beautiful part of the world.  Main Beach was named one of the Top 10 Beaches in America this week.

I got up and went out fairly early to visit two farms. They were both bursting with new growth. Everywhere I looked there were irises, daisies and other wonderful flowers. And then, the vegetables and herbs everywhere. At Balsam Farms in Amagansett, they are selling Radishes, Arugula, Zucchini, Asparagus and beautiful Lettuces. I love this sign on the Radishes. It says: We Grew It!  How much simpler can it get?

Balsam Farms Radishes, 5/29/11

In my travels today, I was looking for cilantro. I hoped to buy some fresh but I couldn't find any. I love a good Corn and Black Bean Salad with scallions, lots of cilantro, sun-dried tomatoes and a light dressing. I could have gone to the IGA and bought it, but as I was talking to Christie @
The Springs General Store (I am SO GLAD that she has the vegetable stand open there again), she asked me:  How about some basil instead? And so, I changed my thinking and made the salad with basil instead of cilantro. Now, this might not sound like a big deal, but what I did is purchased the local basil from Christie instead of buying the cilantro from a grocery store. Her hard work of growing those herbs for us (our community) was rewarded by my purchase. By the way, Ned loved the salad with the basil! And, while I was in there, I noticed these darling little nosegays in the refrigerator. How much better can something be? A bunch of fresh mint with a chive flower in the center. Put together by one of my favorite farmers, Paul Hamilton, I was thrilled to purchase it and put it on my kitchen window sill. It brings me great joy every time I look @ it.

Paul's Mint & Chive Nosegay, 5/29/11

And so it is Memorial Day weekend and we honor those who have died in wars. I continually hope that someday we won't be fighting in any wars.  It is also the weekend of the Indianapolis 500 which was run today. I am a native of Indiana, and the sound of those cars racing around the speedway is one of the most familiar and thrilling sounds I know. The older I get, the more I am moved by sounds and smells and sights from my childhood. It all seems like another lifetime ago. I miss my siblings and my cousins and my parents and grandparents. I probably wouldn't change most things about my life, but I do often feel that it is too bad that I live so far away from my family. And so, to cheer myself up on Indy Race Day, I made Deviled Eggs. I don't know why, but to me these are all about my childhood. You really can't beat the simple taste of this treat!

Deviled Eggs on 5/29/11

The end of a satisfying day full of friends, food and wonderful memories.

Expect good things....

On the Road, 5/11

LIE, 5/1/11, 6:20 a.m.

I hit the road @ 5:20 a.m.to make the drive to Pennsylvania. There is nothing I like better than that Interstate 80 West sign that tells me I am heading out to see my mom.

I-80 West, Pennsylvania

I love the road. I have had wanderlust for as long as I can remember. If you have never read
Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck, I highly recommend it. It is as pertinent and right on today as it was in 1960. I often wonder about why I have wanderlust. There is something about the unknown that I love. I am curious, eager to learn, interested in others and so I have this yearning to want to see more than just what is outside my front door. It's gotta be in my DNA.

Cheese and Peanut Butter Crackers, .79 cents

Do you remember these crazy orange crackers with peanut butter between them? I hadn't had these in years. I remember paying .15 for them in vending machines when I was a kid. I opened them up (I didn't torture myself by reading the ingredients!) and they smelled and tasted exactly the same. I was 11 years old, sweaty and hot in the back of the VW bus, driving with my family to Naples, Florida on summer vacation. I have read that the sense of smell is the strongest for bringing back memories....I believe it.

I-80, Pennsylvania

So I got to PA, and it was summer here! A few hundred miles west and the sun is out and it was 80 degrees. What a welcome relief from the long, dark, damp weather at home.

I-80, Pennsylvania

I want to report that we are in a beautiful country. It is big and interesting and there is something new around every bend. We must love it and take care of it....all of it: the people, the land, the ideas. I have been suggesting to people that they turn off the news and just read the headlines once a day. I really feel that watching and listening constantly to the news is discouraging. I mean, if you think about it, it is all bad news coming out of that talking box in your living room. When was the last good news story that you heard on t.v.? Concentrate on your local news. Here is some important local news that you can make a difference in: In New York, we vote next week on school budgets and school boards. This type of participation in your local government can make a big difference in the world--in your world.

And speaking of local, check out Real Time Farms. They are a great resource for local farmers and farmer's markets. Buy your food from your local farmers; join a CSA. Challenge yourself and see how much of your grocery bill you can switch from spending on industrialized  food to your local purveyors. This helps the economy in your community and I promise you will meet some really nice people at the farm stand or farmer's market.

Subscribe to or pick up an Edible publication. I have a story in the current issue of
Edible East End.  I interviewed farmers and gardeners last year on how they plan their gardens to ensure being able to make a favorite recipe at harvest time. Let me know what you think about it.

I just bought a bike rack and a basket to hang on it. I am going to ride my bike to work this summer and will now be able to bring groceries home from the farm stand when I am done working. The thought of this is bringing me great joy!

Expect good things.....

A Woman for Peace

Women for Peace, 1981

I hereby declare myself A Woman of Peace! I have been feeling I must say this out loud---or at least write about it here. Our country is currently involved in 3 wars...that is right, 3 wars.  Here is a site that will knock your socks off--The Cost of War.  Think about how interesting, motivating and productive our school districts would be if we were privy to some of the money being spent on these military conflicts. Think of the houses that could be renovated and the community gardens planted.  The walk-in clinics and food pantries we could open. The classes taught to kids so that they had something to do after school.....art, dance, music, photography, gardening...the list goes on and on.

What is it that leads us, over and over again, to this way of dealing with conflict situations? I think about this frequently. I try not to be obsessed with it, but I can't even put on the Dianne Rehm Show without hearing about the war. I love her show; I listen to it while I work. I know the first hour is always news, but lately, the second hour seems to be news....and none of it is good.

Here is a quote from one of my heros:

"A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than 

on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death." 

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. April 4, 1967

In my opinion, this says it all.

I have nothing original to say except that I will share two sites that might be helpful in your journey to peace, spiritual well-being, health and happiness for you, your family and friends.

The first site is part of The American Friends Service Committee.  Did you know that April 12th is the Global Day of Action on Military Spending (GDAMS)?  This coincides with the release of the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute's (SIPRI) new annual figures on world military expenditures.  The military spending in the United States far exceeds any other country, accounting for more than half of the $1.53 trillion dollars spent globally in 2009 alone. The AFSC website is full of wonderful stories and information on people and programs geared towards peace. Thank you to my good friend Gail--who is definitely A Woman of Peace--for reminding me about the valuable, productive work being done on behalf of peace-seekers.

The second site is one I have mentioned before, and am extremely proud of: Arms for Peace. This is a project started by my mom, Mary Watson. This is a real grassroots effort to build a memorial for lost soldiers and those they have left behind. A year ago Christmas, my mom told me about her plans for this memorial in her state of Pennsylvania. Since then, through much dedication and hard work, the entire project has been nearly put into place. Much of what will go into the memorial--architectural plans, materials, building costs and the land--have been donated to the project. At this point, there is a fund raising campaign going on to raise money for the plaques which will list the names of the fallen soldiers and their close family members. The memorial itself will be designed to look like arms embracing someone....thus, Arms for Peace. Here is a story that appeared in The Centre Daily Times about the Arms for Peace Project. This project, initiated by my mom, the first Woman of Peace I ever met....and the one who is responsible for teaching me to be the same kind of person.

Please share your stories with me about Women (and Men) for Peace who you know. I think this is a conversation worth having. Let's see if we can drown out some of the war news on the internet!

Expect good things....