You can't deny it. Sometimes, the stars seem to align so that fortuitous events occur for your "life experiences". The Universe brings people together for a moment in time to give an extra-special experience. Don't expect it to last forever. School chums, the excellence of a university, the scene of a local park, a building, the tour group you randomly join during a vacation, the crowd at a bar... they might just be there for you for a finite period of time.
We should preserve institutions, traditions, relationships, and history... but we also know that life is about impermanence. If you went to reunions, you'll know that some people change from how you remember them. Alumni and alumnae might become distant. Chefs come-and-go from eateries. Businesses close. Designers leave their brands. Suppliers change. Management changes within your job. New inventions arise. Social organizers relocate. People retire. Neighbors move in/out. Your "old stomping ground" alters. Best friends don't last a lifetime. The world is in flux. Thusly, it's important for us to savor the moment--to "stop and smell the roses". If things go unchanged for awhile, that's a blessing to savor daily.
I'm not saying to treat people like transient entities--lacking attachment, empathy, or connections with them. I'm advising you to fully enjoy them--and your surroundings--while you're in the midst of them.
If your angels gather for a miracle, or backpackers bond at a hostel... share that adventure. Choose to stay connected with people. Take good memories with you. Use those memories to create great experiences for others elsewhere in the world.
Monday, January 30, 2017
Thursday, January 19, 2017
Winter Getaway Part 3 of 3
With candles aglow and logs afire under the hearth... the house was ready for cocktail time! The invigorating sound of me using Lee's cocktail shaker blended harmoniously with the crackling fire.
While the risotto absorbed grated Asiago,
Peeking into the wine refrigerator, I used my Vivino app to scan the labels, and I chose a bottle from France's largest wine region. I uncorked a highly-rated white Bordeaux, and Robert prepared artichoke hearts for us to share around the kitchen island.
Outside, the snowfall silently stopped.
Inside, Lewis brought food to the table and called us in!
Our scrumptious meal was sumptuously & gracefully consumed. Pure candlelight. Very "Downton Abbey".
Two bottles of reliable Kendall-Jackson Grand Reserve Cab washed it down.
For dessert, we enjoyed assorted tarts: chocolate brownie, apple galette, a cannoli-filled St. Joseph's zeppoli, and a Roman ricotta/almond/lemon "Pistichiotti".
By then, our mulled wine was done simmering: full of citrus rind, cinnamon sticks and sachets of spices.
We played trivia games by the fireplace--its logs snapping brightly. Well, we played until we got comfortably tipsy.
A whirlpool soak (with our glasses of wine) was the perfect finish! (No pictures of that, lol!)
The next morning, Lewis and I snuggled in our room's adjoining Sitting Room to watch the sparrows and cardinals swerve through the bare-branched trees.
As the sun-drenched room brightened, we anticipated our brunch reservations.
But first, we enjoyed tangerine tea in the library... just the two of us (in our soft bathrobes). I played baroque-era classical music.
For brunch, Lee had originally intended a French chateau (previously owned by J.P. Morgan), but it was out of business. Doing splendid research, I discovered another charming & historic eatery. It was quite near, and yet Lee never noticed it before. (It reminded me of our trip to Japan, where I found an excellent coffee shop 3 blocks from our friend's home--that she never knew of. Or our trip to Ft. Lauderdale, FL, where I found 2 eateries near our friend's home that she never knew of. My other good deeds!) I chose a restaurant named The Arch.
It was a candlelit cottage, atop a hill, surrounded by flowerbeds. A mix of French and German cuisine, it employs the MOST hospitable waitstaff. Our reservation snagged a table beside the log-burning fireplace!
We admired the floor-standing torchiere lamps, looking like they belonged to Norma Desmond's palatial 1910s home.
Before menus were presented, oven-fresh bread arrived alongside housemade duck rillette, creamery-fresh butter, and pâté.
The staff really wants you to enjoy a nicely-paced, languid meal. They're also friendly, non-evasively chatty, and observant.
The Italian bartender (occupying a bar/seating nook in the other wing of the restaurant) came over to entice us with his "extra spicy" Bloody Marys. Sold! The sounds of his cocktail shaker were music to our ears. He served the piquant beverages with great pride. Then, he made sure that we were comfy, stoked the fire, and bowed as he left.
As a departure from typical eggs/sausage/pancakes, we ordered savory dishes. First course was cauliflower soup, which was delectable (and came correctly with a cream-soup spoon). In fact, the flatware was all silver.
Next, I had an endive/bleu cheese salad. After the table was crumbed, our main courses were presented: a waiter bringing one for each of us. Calf's liver with crispy onions and thick-cut bacon for me...
Crab/lobster cakes for Lewis...
Wiener Schnitzel for Robert. Sautéed veal kidney in Dijon-Bourbon sauce for Lee. It carried the aroma/flavor/plating of the nearby Culinary Institute of America (where Lewis & I have lunched twice).
Previously tempted by the appearance of amazing soufflés going to other tables, we zeroed in on the Austrian apple strudel on display (above). A waitress happily brought it over for us to admire. From it, we ordered slices--heated in the oven and accompanied by ice cream. A waiter saw Lee peek at the bowl of sabayon on the sideboard, and he smoothly offered to dollop some on Lee's dessert. Such great service!
We arrived back at Wixon House with enough time to tidy up, pack and accept a bottle of wine (each) from Lee as a parting gift. We dutifully signed his Guest Book.
Lee drove us to the local train station, 10-minutes away.
The tenants will occupy Lee's house for a year--intending for two years. I suggested that Lee look upon them as "stewards" who will maintain his home in his absence. He appreciated that viewpoint. Nevertheless, Lewis and I shall look forward to rendezvousing with Lee in other places. More adventures await us!
Everyone participated in dinner prep. Lewis de-veined shrimp, while Lee sautéed mushrooms. I rinsed/boiled fresh beets for our salad. Rice soaked in broth, and we sliced the sausage.
Seeing such well-made chorizo prompted Lewis to reminisce of his trip to Mexico's Yucatan Peninsula to explore the ancient Mayan ruins of Chichen Itza: a UNESCO World Heritage Site that includes ancient ball-playing courts and warrior temples covered in hieroglyphics, circa the 800s AD. Lewis also raved about his kayaking there.
Next, Robert used an iron skillet to roast a gorgeous duck breast!
While the risotto absorbed grated Asiago,
Peeking into the wine refrigerator, I used my Vivino app to scan the labels, and I chose a bottle from France's largest wine region. I uncorked a highly-rated white Bordeaux, and Robert prepared artichoke hearts for us to share around the kitchen island.
Outside, the snowfall silently stopped.
Inside, Lewis brought food to the table and called us in!
Our scrumptious meal was sumptuously & gracefully consumed. Pure candlelight. Very "Downton Abbey".
Two bottles of reliable Kendall-Jackson Grand Reserve Cab washed it down.
For dessert, we enjoyed assorted tarts: chocolate brownie, apple galette, a cannoli-filled St. Joseph's zeppoli, and a Roman ricotta/almond/lemon "Pistichiotti".
By then, our mulled wine was done simmering: full of citrus rind, cinnamon sticks and sachets of spices.
We played trivia games by the fireplace--its logs snapping brightly. Well, we played until we got comfortably tipsy.
A whirlpool soak (with our glasses of wine) was the perfect finish! (No pictures of that, lol!)
The next morning, Lewis and I snuggled in our room's adjoining Sitting Room to watch the sparrows and cardinals swerve through the bare-branched trees.
As the sun-drenched room brightened, we anticipated our brunch reservations.
But first, we enjoyed tangerine tea in the library... just the two of us (in our soft bathrobes). I played baroque-era classical music.
For brunch, Lee had originally intended a French chateau (previously owned by J.P. Morgan), but it was out of business. Doing splendid research, I discovered another charming & historic eatery. It was quite near, and yet Lee never noticed it before. (It reminded me of our trip to Japan, where I found an excellent coffee shop 3 blocks from our friend's home--that she never knew of. Or our trip to Ft. Lauderdale, FL, where I found 2 eateries near our friend's home that she never knew of. My other good deeds!) I chose a restaurant named The Arch.
It was a candlelit cottage, atop a hill, surrounded by flowerbeds. A mix of French and German cuisine, it employs the MOST hospitable waitstaff. Our reservation snagged a table beside the log-burning fireplace!
We admired the floor-standing torchiere lamps, looking like they belonged to Norma Desmond's palatial 1910s home.
Before menus were presented, oven-fresh bread arrived alongside housemade duck rillette, creamery-fresh butter, and pâté.
The staff really wants you to enjoy a nicely-paced, languid meal. They're also friendly, non-evasively chatty, and observant.
The Italian bartender (occupying a bar/seating nook in the other wing of the restaurant) came over to entice us with his "extra spicy" Bloody Marys. Sold! The sounds of his cocktail shaker were music to our ears. He served the piquant beverages with great pride. Then, he made sure that we were comfy, stoked the fire, and bowed as he left.
As a departure from typical eggs/sausage/pancakes, we ordered savory dishes. First course was cauliflower soup, which was delectable (and came correctly with a cream-soup spoon). In fact, the flatware was all silver.
Next, I had an endive/bleu cheese salad. After the table was crumbed, our main courses were presented: a waiter bringing one for each of us. Calf's liver with crispy onions and thick-cut bacon for me...
Crab/lobster cakes for Lewis...
Wiener Schnitzel for Robert. Sautéed veal kidney in Dijon-Bourbon sauce for Lee. It carried the aroma/flavor/plating of the nearby Culinary Institute of America (where Lewis & I have lunched twice).
Previously tempted by the appearance of amazing soufflés going to other tables, we zeroed in on the Austrian apple strudel on display (above). A waitress happily brought it over for us to admire. From it, we ordered slices--heated in the oven and accompanied by ice cream. A waiter saw Lee peek at the bowl of sabayon on the sideboard, and he smoothly offered to dollop some on Lee's dessert. Such great service!
Lee drove us to the local train station, 10-minutes away.
After an hour, our slow train completed the 50 miles to Manhattan. At Grand Central Terminal...
...we reluctantly switched to the slower subway.
The tenants will occupy Lee's house for a year--intending for two years. I suggested that Lee look upon them as "stewards" who will maintain his home in his absence. He appreciated that viewpoint. Nevertheless, Lewis and I shall look forward to rendezvousing with Lee in other places. More adventures await us!
Winter Getaway Part 2 of 3
There's something about a quiet house that's appealing to an early-riser like me: it is a Zen moment. I wore the bathrobe that Lee left for me, and I went downstairs.
I paused in the library to ignite a scented candle and choose a book from the bookcase. Then, I crossed the (casual) living room to the kitchen. A wonderful aroma welcomed me.
Earlier, I programmed the coffeemaker to brew in time for my arrival. (I chose beans from Peet's Morning Blend). Taking a mug, I sipped it in the library, as the sun brightened that winter day. After awhile, the aroma wafted upstairs, through the keyholes of everyone's bedrooms.
The guys descended from both staircases, and I went to the (formal) living room, opened the chimney flue, and ignited a fire in the fireplace to welcome them. From the garage, I fetched logs to heighten the flames. Lee doesn't use a scuttle to carry logs; he has a heavy-duty basket... to give a rustic vibe. I suppose it works... just as Queen Elizabeth uses baskets for her paperwork when she's at Balmoral Castle.
Earlier, I programmed the coffeemaker to brew in time for my arrival. (I chose beans from Peet's Morning Blend). Taking a mug, I sipped it in the library, as the sun brightened that winter day. After awhile, the aroma wafted upstairs, through the keyholes of everyone's bedrooms.
The guys descended from both staircases, and I went to the (formal) living room, opened the chimney flue, and ignited a fire in the fireplace to welcome them. From the garage, I fetched logs to heighten the flames. Lee doesn't use a scuttle to carry logs; he has a heavy-duty basket... to give a rustic vibe. I suppose it works... just as Queen Elizabeth uses baskets for her paperwork when she's at Balmoral Castle.
The It made a perfect milieu to start the day: the logs popping and snapping added lively sounds and warmth.
Using his laptop, Dr. Robert hunted online for luxury apartments. He sought/appreciated my input. After an hour of lounging in civilized style, breakfast got underway. In the less-formal dining room, we began with fruit cups, then omelets, hash browns, toast with butter & jam, and zesty Bloody Marys.
First to finish showering, I began to "lay table" in the formal dining room for that night's dinner. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I greeted a village policeman who wanted to file a Police Report about Lee's property damage. I gave my name and told him that I didn't live there. He looked perplexed. Lewis came downstairs, and I indicated that he didn't live there either. The other houseguest walked past us, and I told the officer that he also didn't live there. The cop looked taken aback, so I offered coffee. Finally, Lee arrived. I resumed folding napkins, while he spoke to Lee in the foyer. As they pranced around the front lawn, we watched from the windows.
Police report filed, the patrol car zoomed away. We sped in another direction, toward the historically beautiful Village of Cold Spring-on-Hudson. Leaving Lee's area, we admired how the trusting citizens leave their fishing boats unattended by the many lakes.
We've been to Cold Spring a few times, and I was excited. Lewis promptly dozed off in Lee's SUV.
Nestled in the Hudson River Valley highlands, its Main Street showcases turn-of-the-century homes, civic buildings, and shops (both trendy and quirky).
An underground passageway bypasses Cold Spring's train station, which bisects the village.
We were delighted to discover an Argentine café: Ricon Argentino. They advertised their wares adorably on wooden signs. Using the "honor-code" they allowed passersby to serve themselves and then come in to pay!
The day's special was cutely advertised, too.
We ordered chicken ones, and I selected a coconut-dusted cookie to accompany my hot cider. Such nice owners!
After munching our lunch, we continued our stroll uptown. They were still decorated for Christmas... which gave a quaint and cheery ambiance, like a scene from a Hallmark movie!
Inside a locally-sourced food purveyor, Lewis savored petting the shop-owner's doggie. The pooch loved Lewis' affection.
I bought a local, dry-cured $16 chorizo for our dinnertime!
As if it was late-Christmas magic, it began to snow! The unexpected snowfall made the scene pretty, as we perused several shops.
Once it began to stick, we wisely decided to use the 4-wheel-drive and head back to the house. Remotely, Lee used his cellphone to adjust the home's temperature zones and activate the lights/music.
Immediately, Lewis chose some Madonna songs, I shook up some frosty gin cocktails, and...
Using his laptop, Dr. Robert hunted online for luxury apartments. He sought/appreciated my input. After an hour of lounging in civilized style, breakfast got underway. In the less-formal dining room, we began with fruit cups, then omelets, hash browns, toast with butter & jam, and zesty Bloody Marys.
First to finish showering, I began to "lay table" in the formal dining room for that night's dinner. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I greeted a village policeman who wanted to file a Police Report about Lee's property damage. I gave my name and told him that I didn't live there. He looked perplexed. Lewis came downstairs, and I indicated that he didn't live there either. The other houseguest walked past us, and I told the officer that he also didn't live there. The cop looked taken aback, so I offered coffee. Finally, Lee arrived. I resumed folding napkins, while he spoke to Lee in the foyer. As they pranced around the front lawn, we watched from the windows.
Police report filed, the patrol car zoomed away. We sped in another direction, toward the historically beautiful Village of Cold Spring-on-Hudson. Leaving Lee's area, we admired how the trusting citizens leave their fishing boats unattended by the many lakes.
We've been to Cold Spring a few times, and I was excited. Lewis promptly dozed off in Lee's SUV.
Nestled in the Hudson River Valley highlands, its Main Street showcases turn-of-the-century homes, civic buildings, and shops (both trendy and quirky).
An underground passageway bypasses Cold Spring's train station, which bisects the village.
We were delighted to discover an Argentine café: Ricon Argentino. They advertised their wares adorably on wooden signs. Using the "honor-code" they allowed passersby to serve themselves and then come in to pay!
The day's special was cutely advertised, too.
We ordered chicken ones, and I selected a coconut-dusted cookie to accompany my hot cider. Such nice owners!
After munching our lunch, we continued our stroll uptown. They were still decorated for Christmas... which gave a quaint and cheery ambiance, like a scene from a Hallmark movie!
I bought a local, dry-cured $16 chorizo for our dinnertime!
As if it was late-Christmas magic, it began to snow! The unexpected snowfall made the scene pretty, as we perused several shops.
Once it began to stick, we wisely decided to use the 4-wheel-drive and head back to the house. Remotely, Lee used his cellphone to adjust the home's temperature zones and activate the lights/music.
Immediately, Lewis chose some Madonna songs, I shook up some frosty gin cocktails, and...
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