Charlie's ride

My brother-in-law Charlie completed the LiveStrong Challenge this past weekend and raised $5,245.00 for the Lance Armstrong Foundation's mission to inspire and empower people affected by cancer.

So many of us are touched by cancer. Mom Welch is a cancer survivor. So is Dorothy. My Mom had cancer. My Dad suffers greatly from it right now. And there are too many more among our extended families and friends. None of us are immune.

But Charlie did something empowering and inspirational all on his own to demonstrate his commitment to fighting cancer. And I love that about him.

Oh and by the way, this was no small ride. It was 100 miles. Yep. That's a one with two zeroes.


Thanks Charlie. From all of us. Especially from Isabelle (below cheering him on) and Gavin and Ryan and Jessica. Maybe by the time they can ride a bike 100 miles, cancer will be history.

If you haven't had time to donate yet...it's not too late.

The question

Originally posted 9/11/2006

I was only a year old when Kennedy was assassinated. I don't remember it. But growing up it was the question people always asked each other. Where were you when Kennedy was shot?

But that's not the question we ask each other now.

September 11, 2001 was a perfect early-fall-blue-sky-fresh-air kind of day. I dropped Drew off at Kindergarten and went for a run through the winding streets of Marblehead and up around Fort Sewell. I stopped at the tip of the fort overlooking the harbor, the islands and the lighthouse. It was gorgeous.

I watched a plane circling overhead. It had just taken off from Logan Airport. I remember thinking how much I loved it when flights I took for business took me out over Marblehead when I was leaving. I used to look down from the window and imagine what the kids were doing. I'd pick out the buildings of their schools, our house, the field at the end of our street. It always made me feel better about leaving...knowing that they were safe in our little town.

Was that plane Flt. 11? A flight both Bob and I had flown many times from Boston to Los Angeles? The first plane to hit the towers? Or was it Flt. 175, the second plane?

I got home, showered and then the phone rang. It was Bob calling from his office in Beverly. Out of sheer luck he was not traveling that day. He said, "Turn on the TV."

Flight 11 had just hit the north tower.

In the days and weeks that followed, it amazed me how many of us knew people that were killed. How interconnected we all are.

A colleague of Bob's was killed in the towers that morning. Two Marbleheaders were killed on Flt. 175, one was the father of a little girl that went to the same school as Drew. Another was a young doctor.

That morning, I may have looked up at them, before they knew their horrific fate. I picture them looking down at Marblehead from the plane. I bet they picked out their houses, the school and Abbot Hall's clock tower. I bet they felt that deep, abiding connection to the people they loved.

Where were you on September 11th?

We will never forget.

Purgatory

Ever feel like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders?

Hiking at Purgatory Chasm

The chasm was formed when large volumes of glacial ice melted and were suddenly released. The force of the sudden release of water broke away large blocks of granite and created a sluice that's about a quarter mile in length, with sheer rock walls rising as high as seventy feet in some places.

See these photos on a map.

First comes love...

Then comes marriage...

A few weeks ago my nephew Dan called to swear me to secrecy. His girlfriend Alicia is joining him here in Massachusetts in January, leaving her life in Indiana so they can be together. Dan wanted to make sure she knew he meant it for keeps. And he asked for my help with planning a romantic night at an inn so he could pop the question in style.

OK so after I got all teary about how incredibly sweet he is and how his heart and his thinking were all in the right places, we got down to work.

We found a place called The Deerfield Inn that seemed perfect and made the plans. Then we constructed an elaborate, ummm...lie...to get Alicia to the inn without raising suspicions. Since it was Bob's birthday on Sept. 2, we told her that I had planned this romantic getaway but at the last minute Bob had to fly to California, so we couldn't go, but the room was non-refundable. Would they like to go in our place? We even had reservations for dinner at the inn. Sounds very believeable, doesn't it? It's scary how easily we concocted the story!

For best effect, you have to hear Dan tell you the story in person. But suffice to say, the entire inn knew of the big plan. He stood up and asked for everyone's attention in the dining room at dinner and then got down on one knee and asked Alicia to make him the happiest man on earth.

She said yes.
And they are glowing.

OK everyone, all at once...AWWWWW!!!!

Pluto

By now we've all heard the news...that Pluto is no longer a planet.

Well, some people are not too happy about it. In fact this guy recently staged a 'Pluto is a Planet' protest.

Don't you just love that? Anyway, while I was watching the video, Drew walked by and said. "Pluto's not a planet?" So I explained the issue.

He then threw up his hands in disgust. "So why did I do that project on Pluto at school last year? What a waste of time!"

So OK, we live in a world where planets get demoted and 10-year-olds get the concept that their time can be wasted.

When I was 10 I was still dutifully sitting through commercials on TV and religiously using the Dewey decimal system to look up actual books in a card catalog. What a waste of time!

Drawing the line

I said I would never put my dog in a hat. And I did.
I said I would never let my dog drive.
And I won't.
No matter how hard he begs.

Shhh...tragedy in progress

Last night I watched Spike Lee's "When the Levees Broke" on HBO.

Katrina was an American tragedy.

But the biggest American tragedy of all is the Bush Administration.

Pocasset

Last weekend Mari and I went "down the Cape" to visit Caitlin in her native habitat...which would be Pocasset.


We sat on the porch and talked and laughed and drank.

We kayaked.

We went to the beach.

We read books.

We slept in the pink room.

We ate. And ate. Incredible food.

We were gone less than two days but it felt like a whole week. Why? Because I was able to just live without demands, without anyone needing me. I could just live in my senses and in my head and with friends. It was incredibly rejuvenating. It made me feel, for many days, like I had just stepped out of an outdoor shower and washed away all my worries under the cloudless sky.

I met Caitlin in Costa Rica and knew instantly she'd be a friend for life. And on this trip I had a chance to get to know Jim. And now that I've met him, of course Caitlin has been married to him for 20 years and counting, not to mention taken a few dips in the gene pool with great results. I even met Caitlin's Dad who I will forever quote. "Good luck to you!" And as I write it, I know that unless you've heard him say it, you can't imagine how he says it.

So Caitlin - and Mari - who is is the glue that binds us all together and holds us tight - thank you for your gift of place and time and you.

Yankees

I think it's really funny that I live in Marblehead. Don't get me wrong. It's a beautiful place and I love that it's a small town that's just a quick hop away from Boston and the airport. I love the ocean. I love that we walk everywhere. But culturally it's not a great fit for me.

It took a long time to find friends here amidst all the club members, sailors, financial services people, tennis moms and yankees. I'm not the club-joining, social-climbing type. Bob and I work in consumer media and entertainment. We don't have trust funds. Great grandmama had 8 kids, a drunk for a husband and not two pennies to rub together.

But it's still truly astounding to me how elite, uptight, provincial and inbred this culture can be.

Not to mention, I wouldn't be caught dead in matching grosgrain flip flops and belts.

Of course, I've written a poem about them.

So, today you can only imagine how much I enjoyed watching this video....

Tomatoes

It's that time of year again...

Photo by TheCoco via FlickrTomatoes. Every day.

Beefsteak bombers. Cherry poppers. Mild yellows. Heirloom beauties. (Photo by Melissa Schneider via Flickr)

Tomotoes are one of the territories I know by heart. There are no better tomatoes in the world than those that grow in the sun of Chautauqua County and that are sold so matter-of-factly on broken down old farmstands for pennies apiece.











Splintered farm stand
Mounded with tomatoes
Big as hands
With the folds and fullness of women
Ripe and easily bruised
My coins fell like wishes
Into the Chase & Sanborn coffee can
I took all I could carry
Into the soul of the late summer sun

Poem by me.
Photo by SmallTownHolly via Flickr

Ha! you say. It's only that they're embued with the layers of your childhood that you think they're better. And you're right. Because after all, food is more than food. Food is an experience had with people and places, sights and sounds. If you hear cicadas buzzing, it's time for tomatoes. Touch a living tomato vine and you'll carry the green smell on your fingers all day. Step into the shade and share a picnic with friends - sandwiches with tomatoes, turkey and arugula on whole grain bread.

Shudder to think of winter tomatoes...bitter, mealy, tasteless. Abominations! No!

Be thankful. Each day at this time of year, we are blessed with this sun-ripened, deep and delicious fruit that acts just like a vegetable.

Some tomato pleasures...

Photo by Jon in TO via Flickr

Go and buy the freshest buffalo mozzerella and the freshest basil. Slice the tomatoes and cheese and layer them on a plate, one against the other with basil leaves between each one and more on top. Then some salt and fresh ground pepper, a splash of balsamic vinegar and a nice fruity olive oil. Mmmmm.


Visit La Tartine Gourmande for more inspiration. Bruschetta. Tartine. Crostini.

Bea's blog is one of my favorite places to visit. Enjoy.