Glad to See the Sun Again!

After three days of constant snow, and cold so cold that our shower pipe froze, even with the heat on, I woke up today to see the sun! It is glorious be be out of the gloom, I was simply getting depressed with all the gray. Perhaps I have seasonal affective disorder, I almost started crying yesterday. However, now that the sun is back with blue skies, and bright white snow sparkling all around, I am smiling again. Part of my sadness probably had to do with being trapped in the house. There was too much snow to drive for three days, and we live on a hill that the snowplows completely ignored yesterday, until late afternoon.

So, we spent the day baking. We made Macaroon cookies, brownies, and jello with bananas. This was my husbands idea, since Christmas is coming. I am not a big fan of having tons of sweets around the house, because I know I will eat a little piece here, a little piece there, and before you know it, Mom has eaten half of the desert herself. But, I let him do his baking, after all it is a Christmas tradition. I also over heard him on the phone asking my mother in law to make whoopie pies and snicker doodles. "Tell her to only bring a Few of each," I told him. I don't want to fall victim to those too....

So, last night after dinner, the kids were excited because they knew we were having desert. My husband decided to make a nice presentation with each person's plate containing one brownie with mint topping, one scoop of strawberry jello with bananas, once scoop of orange jello with bananas, one macaroon cookie, and to top it all off, a spoonful of ice cream.

Now, it had been snowing all day, and the kids had gone out earlier to play while the younger two napped, and mom frantically tried to start her Christmas wrapping. Then, our oldest boy went out again to shovel the walk again, so they had worked up an appetite. Dad had not yet snowblowed the driveway since the day before, because the snow had not stopped. I had just spent the better part of the last two hours making Risotto. So, we sat down to dinner, then Dad brought out the desert. The kids loved it, and asked for more jello, and another scoop of ice cream. I wasn't sure if this was really a good idea, but agreed since it was a Christmas time desert, and we normally don't have any desert. But I really should have reconsidered, because my husband decided right after desert was the time to go out and snowblow the driveway. "Now," I asked? "Yeah, why not?" he said. "You just gave them three pounds of sugar and now you are going to leave?" Great. And I was right, as soon as he left the sugar hit, and they all went a little crazy.

Right after dinner is not my favorite time of the day, it's when I have to clean up, do the dishes, clean up the baby, get everyone settled down, and start thinking about bedtime for the kids. I knew they were a little excited, and school vacation had started, so I let them play for a while. I started doing dishes till I heard Thomas crying. I walk into the living room, and he said someone hurt him. I also discovered that he had pooped, and that they had dumped out the puzzle bin, containing 20 puzzles and at least 300 pieces on the floor. A little dismayed, I took Thomas, grabbed the baby, and went upstairs to give Thomas a bath. I started his bath, but he did not want to come out, so I said he could play a little longer and changed baby into her pajamas and started nursing her. This did not last two long before we were interrupted by noise, so I gave up and put her down to play while I got Thomas out of the bath and ready for bed. He didn't want to brush his teeth, but I had to insist due to the sugar just consumed. So I managed to brush his teeth, and get him changed and into bed to look at his books. Then I went back to the baby's room to nurse her to sleep, this time with success.

I headed back downstairs only to discover that none of the puzzle pieces had been put back into their box. So, I told the boys they have to clean up the puzzles. This didn't work too well at first, until I reminded them that they have to clean them up or Santa won't come. So, they started making a game out of it, throwing the pieces into the box. This was not what I wanted to see, with my nightly exhaustion setting in, and the snow blower still groaning loudly. I threw out some more reminders about Santa, insisting that I would call him if needed. Eventually, I layed down of the couch and started falling asleep. One of my sons came over for a hug, and we snuggled for a while. Then the other wanted a turn so I told Patrick to go lay on the other couch while I snuggled Joe. I was too tired to go upstairs and put them to bed, I was just out of energy.

After a power nap, and waking up to noise again, I was ready to mean business and we got the rest of the puzzles cleaned up. Then the boys heard the snow blower stop, and Daddy coming in. Joe ran upstairs, and I took Patrick to his room to get on his pajamas.

Now that they were in bed, I decided to resume my wrapping. I opened my bedroom door that had been barricaded to keep the kiddies out of the presents. My husband came up and took a shower to warm up from the cold (now that our shower was finally defrosted). He was happy to be done with the snow, and smiled for the first time in a while. My mood was starting to improve, knowing that the snow was done. Now that our driveway was free, we would not be stuck at home forever, as it had previously seemed. I asked him if he would mind picking up a prescription for one of the children that we needed for the morning.

So, as I look out now, I am glad to see clear roads, and blue skies. We are out of the darkness, but I won't be giving out any deserts to the kids today, at least not until Dad gets home.

The Ice Storm, Beautiful Destruction

All through the night we heard cracks and booms. We had heard there would be freezing rain, but expected nothing like this. The first big bang we heard was a transformer blowing. The rest of the noises were trees falling and branches breaking. Every time I fell back asleep, I awoke to a few more trees breaking. I had no idea of the time, because the power was out. At one point, we were wide awake, so I checked the cell phone. 3 am, in noisy darkness.

At first light, he got up and looked out the window. "Come here, you have to see this," he said. Reluctantly, I got up from bed and came to the window. Wow, what I saw was amazing. The whole world was covered in ice. The trees, the grass, everything. Branches were coated an inch thick.

Before I even got dressed, I grabbed my camera and my snow mocs and stepped outside. It did not feel cold, after being in the cold house all night, the air felt warm. Excitedly, I walked around the yard in my pajamas taking pictures. The early morning sky was slightly gray, but the ice was beautiful nonetheless. The mailbox, the trees, the tricycle, everything was covered; the basketball hoop sported icicles. After a quick lap, I came back in to share the excitement with my family. He noticed the broken branches and took a turn to step outside. I sent my oldest outside too, but he came back in and said, "Dad doesn't want me out here, it's too dangerous."







After getting dressed, I took the camera outside again. This time the sky was a little brighter, and the neighbors were out too. Our street was now blocked by a 25 year old pine tree that wasn't there an hour ago. Tire tracks adorned the edge of our yard where someone tried to get around the tree. As we stood, more trees and branches fell around us. We heard cracks and witnessed the destruction as weighty branches fell.

As amazing as the landscape was, I had to go back in and check on the kids. I quickly snapped pictures of blades of grass covered in ice. Looking out the back windows of the house, I saw power lines sagging, more trees down.







When I went in, he came out with his chainsaw to clear the road. A few minutes later, our neighbor came out to help, and together they chopped the pine tree away. For an hour, they chopped, and shoveled the tree and icy branches off the road. The city truck came by surveying the damage, and then a bulldozer came to take away the remains.

My neighbor said she had never seen anything like this in their 12 years here. Our street on the hill does get more wind and wild weather than our old house, but this was an anomaly. The city of ice, beautiful destruction. For all the crazy weather of the world, hurricanes, tornadoes, tsunamis, snowstorms, I'll take an ice storm any day, at least it's pretty.

I sit in my parents house now, two days later, typing away. We have checked the power grid, 8,000 people still without power in our city. A call to the neighbor revealed that our street is still in the stone age, no electricity. We drained the water before we left, so are hoping for no pipes burst upon our return. If anything, we are enjoying out visit with my parents. It is nice to be warm, and the fellowship is good too. All summer I tried to get us here, and as my husband said, "it took for Hell to freeze over," but we're here. :)

We have been having a great time at Grandma and Grandpa's so far. Twice they babysat the younger kids while we went for walks with only two, or one child; first down by the harbor, then around the block. We got to go out to lunch with no kids, and today we built a fire outside and roasted marshmallows. The 3 boys are having a fun sleeping on air mattresses all in one bedroom. The husband and I are enjoying the view of the pond, and the kids love all of grandma's toys. Last night, I got out all the photo albums from my childhood, and took a trip down memory lane. I saw myself at the age that my children are now, and tried to see the resemblance.

Soon, we will have to go back home, and get back to our usual routine, of school, and work, and housework. As for now, we are enjoying our emergency vacation, and time with those we love.

The Sunday Paper

Every Sunday, the paper comes, and inside are the inevitable coupons. I’m not sure if these are a blessing, or a curse. I always feel obligated to look through the coupons, and cut out the ones I might use. However, being able to actually use them is the question. If I cut out a coupon, I put it in the coupon drawer in the kitchen. This is the drawer we are supposed to look in before we go grocery shopping. On a good day, we will, a.) know in advance that we are going grocery shopping, b.) have our menu all planned out for the week, and c.) remember to check the coupons before we leave, and d.) find the exact item on the coupon in the store, and have it be the brand on sale this week, qualifying the coupon as a good deal.

On this day of course, we will also remember to bring our reusable grocery bags into the car, and remember to bring them into the store when we get there.

Then there are the coupons that make it into the envelope in my purse. These are the ones for something I would be the one to buy. If I’m lucky, and the planets are in alignment next time I go to buy lotion, I will remember to check the envelope and will find a coupon that is valid for what I am actually purchasing, that has not expired. This is becoming increasingly hard these days though, because most of the coupons expire within a few weeks, and by the time I am ready to use them, they are no good. Then there are the coupons that require you to buy 3 of the item, to save a total of 50 cents. Is that really cost effective? I don’t need three bottles of bathroom cleaner at a time, and do I really want to doll out $12 now when I can just go back in a couple months to buy another bottle?

I like the diaper coupons, where I can save $5 at BJ’s on a box of Luvs, something I actually use, and don’t want to run out to the store every week to buy. This is a good, fair coupon. But as for saving $1.00 on three boxes of cereal when I only need one, well, that’s questionable.

Still, I will continue to check the coupons, and on a good day, I will have enough time to read the meat of the newspaper as well. As for now, we glance at it and most of it is recycled, or used as kindling, or under painting paper. And sometimes, after routing through the coupons, we might read an article or two.

Memoirs of my Father

I heard a Jackson Browne song on the radio today. I couldn’t help thinking about my dad. Long ago, Dad boosted Jackson Browne’s career a little without his knowledge. One night at a home party Dad noticed when Load out/Stay started to play that everyone reacted to the second part of the song. Dad cut the song in half, and played the second part on the radio. The edited version was an instant success and became a hit. Stations all over the country started playing the short version of the song, and soon Jackson Brown was a hot ticket again.

My Dad likes to travel to warm places. Year’s back, Dad went to Jamaica. There was a man and his band playing an unfamiliar rhythm and Dad liked what he heard. He bought their album, brought it back to the states, and had it played on his station. He was first to play Reggae on white pop radio, and many other stations followed. You know that man as Bob Marley.

When Dad was in high school, his father, an Ear Nose and Throat Dr., influenced my dad to go to Notre Dame for pre-med. Unfortunately, or fortunately, for Dad, he wasn’t any good at Chemistry or Biology. He transferred to NYU and switched to Communications where he DJ’d at the College Radio Station. He was the only student to get fan mail since he gave exam answers over the air.

It was while attending NYU that Dad met Mom. There was a party that Mom’s friends were going to, and Mom didn’t really want to attend. But in the end, she agreed to go, and while there a boy named Vince asked her to dance. She said yes, and before he took her out to the dance floor, he went over to the record player to change the music. After that, Dad asked if she wanted to go into the pantry to look at the moon. Mom said, “absolutely not.” Despite that, Dad was in love, and he went home that night and put a sign on his parent’s door that read, “I’m going to marry Petie.” He set out to do that, and called Mom at her college in Tarrytown. There was a phone in the hallway of Mom’s dorm for all the girls to share. Dad would call, and Mom would not be in her room, so he would leave her a message with one of the girls.

Mom, being a southern girl, had been taught never to call a boy and wouldn’t call him back. So, in desperation, Dad called Mom’s roommate and told her to call him back next time Mom was in her room. This was the only way he could call back at the right time and talk to Mom.

Mom was a year older than Dad, but he wanted to get married. So after Mom graduated Marymount College, (Dad still had another year of college to go and had to ask The Commonwealth of Virginia permission since he was under 21) they got married in Richmond, VA and set off on their Honeymoon. Dad was a little anxious to get to that honeymoon, because Mom was a virtuous girl, and would never let him get very far. So he says they missed a great after party at Mom’s parents house after the wedding reception. Their first meal alone together as husband and wife was at a roadside truck stop on the way to Cape Cod that served drinks in styrofoam cups. Looking back, Dad regrets this, but he has since made up for this meal by taking mom to numerous resorts and nice restaurants.

I don’t know if his father ever knew how much of a good choice switching colleges was for Dad. He died when my father was 24 years old. Dad talks about him sometimes, how he wishes he had been a better son. How he wished he had done some things differently as a kid; he regrets installing a Glass Pack muffler in his father’s Buick. Sometimes he gets a tear in his eye as he talks about his father.

If Dad’s Father had lived longer, he would have seen that his son had made a good choice. After Dad’s college graduation, Dad went to an agency to see about getting a good job. He sat down at the table, and filled out some forms. One of the questions was, “would you be willing to relocate?” Dad started to write, “C –a – l – i.” The counselor said right away “I have a job for you.” That is how my parents ended up in Hollywood. It was a job selling commercials at radios stations and for magazines. Dad had one suit and it became very shiny because he wore it every day. He made a total of $96.00 a week. He would go to the Brown Derby restaurant using his expense account, order a big steak for lunch then take most of it home to feed his family. My parents had a baby, and an apartment with no furniture; I think they had a bed and a stove. For entertainment on a Friday night, my parents would take walks down town and read the big bulletin boards at the local supermarket. They did have a turntable, and some records in their apartment. That was a must for my Dad. He has loved music his whole life.

After a few months in Hollywood, my Mom became pregnant again. My second oldest sister was born a California Girl. They lived in an apartment building with other people just starting out in life. Across the hall there was a woman who was trying to get into the film business. Sometimes my parents would invite her over to their apartment for dinner. She had one favorite interview dress and eventually, she made it also. It is always fun to hear the story about my parents neighbor Raquel Welch.

After my parents had lived in Hollywood a short time, my Dad’s Father became sick, and Dad asked to be transferred to the East Coast to be near him. This is how Dad ended up working in NYC. He worked at NBC, WPIX, and some other stations. Two weeks before I was born, my family moved to CT because my Dad took a job at a struggling AM station called WICC. Dad was the General Manager, and he took the station to the top.

A few years later, Dad was hired to start a station from scratch. A losing station number 107.9 was purchased. I didn’t know much about it at the time, I was seven. I do remember people coming over for Dinner, and having to be quiet as they met, and talked, and made phone calls. They were planning the new station. My dad brought home a list of available call letters and we all looked through the list. It was my brother who noticed W – E – B – E was available. WE - BE he said. That stuck. They decided to name the station WEBE 108. For the next several years, Dad and his partners built that station. They tried something different with the music program, and everyone liked the sound; it was immediately copied. It is the format now know as Adult Contemporary and played at stations across the country.

Dad enjoyed his career in radio. Ironically enough, my mom was not too into music, so he used to bring me to events and promotions. Many times he bought or was given tickets and would bring me to concerts. He took me to see Billy Joel, Joan Baez (one of his all time favorites), Chuck Berry “The Father of Rock and Roll”, Willy Nelson, the Rolling Stones and Elton John. I think there were a few others.

When we went to Billy Joel, Dad took me back stage to meet Billy. I had no idea what I was supposed to say to this man who I had been hearing on the record player and the radio my whole life. I just stood in awe and quietly shook his hand.

Early one Saturday morning my Dad noticed a line of people out the door of the record store. When he found out they were selling Rolling Stones tickets, he ran over to his barbershop. “I need to borrow $600 in cash right away,” he told Tommy. His barber gave him the money, and that is how my sisters and I ended up going to the Rolling Stones Steele Wheels tour in ‘89. It was a grand event. Dad, in his hipness, got a limo for the occasion. I had never been in a limo before. This made the concert extra cool.

As a little girl, I would sit with my dad in the Den as he listened to his records. He had eclectic taste and he would play different things for me to hear. He called it my musical education. He played all artists, all kinds (sometimes the Rock and Roll, sometimes Classical, sometimes Big Band and Jazz). I was also allowed to make requests. Every day he played me Yellow Submarine and Puff the Magic Dragon. Sometimes we would dance. I would reach up and hold his arms as he twirled me around, slowly. I would smell his Old Spice cologne, which I loved. He kept it in a cabinet in the kitchen and put it on every morning as he was leaving for work, before he kissed my mother goodbye.

As a child, every night at dinner dad would ask the same question. “What did you learn today?” I had to come up with one thing I had learned in school. “Nothing,” or, “I don’t know” was not an acceptable answer. So I learned to always remember something I had learned at school. Sometimes I will ask this question of my children. “What did you learn today?” I will always think back to my childhood, answering the question for Dad.

Dad has a pattern of helping people make it. Not always publicly, not always in obvious ways. He tells people to go for it, encourages their talents. Over the years, he hired many people who became very successful. He taught me to speak up for myself, and to have confidence. He taught me (by word and by example) to go to church every Sunday (or Saturday night with the better music), and don’t be afraid to sing loud and clear. He always told us, “don’t be afraid to order the most expensive thing on the menu on a date,” (providing the boy can afford it).

Dad is still with us, and I hope he will be around for another Twenty years. We will see Mom and Dad in the summer, and they will come for Christmas some years. We will always see them at Thanksgiving, with my five siblings, their spouses, and the 15 grandchildren – soon to be 16. We will laugh, and joke, and tell stories, and Dad will sit down and play chess with one of the grandchildren. I don’t know when he will go to the Virgin Island in the sky, but I didn’t want to wait to tell him how I feel. I love you Dad, and Thank you for all you have given us.

Mealtime Melodrama

Sometimes I want to trade my three year old for a starving child from Africa who will not care if his sandwiches are cut into squares or triangles, or ask for the crusts to be cut off; but will simply be glad to have food.