Grew up on Lake Erie, many years in Pennsylvania, Manhattan and upstate NY, chucked it all to travel 5 years in an RV, settled in TX for a few, then back to snow country, Lancaster PA. It's a diary, a cookbook and random thoughts. Follow along!
I have always looked forward to the next big thing. When I was about 11, our family moved to another state. I vaguely remember the moving truck, saying goodbye to my friends and driving to our new home. I wasn’t sad and fully accepted this major shift, new community, new friends.
I accepted being the new kid in Junior HS wearing socks. I rebelled mightily.
I accepted the major change of entering college and living on my own for the first time. I remember attending my 1st frat party on Kiester Road, drinking my first beer ever.
My outlook throughout life. I’ve taken changes in stride, usually seeing the positive side of things. An example: I quit smoking in 2015 when I was hospitalized. I told my family to dispose of any cigarettes and ashtrays before I came home. Unable to drive, I accepted that cigarettes were no longer available and have been smoke free ever since, over 10 years.
I (almost) always accepted major changes in my life because I prefer to see the future, the next big thing.
Most of my life is behind me now. I daydream about people, places I’ve been, things I’ve learned. Music has always been a constant, my sanctuary, and I can laugh out loud or cry in private. Even though I look back over the years with pride, I have never been fully at peace. I exposed my private thoughts in the most important letter I’ve ever written, and it lifted some of that burden.
So what does this have to do with simple pleasures? Sitting on my porch listening to the birds, the awe of each season as nature unfurls its brilliant colors, the local farmer’s markets with their fresh local produce, fall markets of pumpkins, gourds and chrysanthemums of every shade.
I love putting up for winter, canning or drying food for the long winter months.
In the spring I love seeing the crocuses bloom through the snow in early spring, clusters of daffodils and trees blooming with brilliant blossoms. I miss taking my camera to capture their brilliance, but every season I vow to do better.
I welcome the simple pleasures of greeting every upcoming season. Blossoming new life, summer flora, and fall abundant harvest to preserve through the winter months.
In a few weeks, my younger daughter is getting married, and I will be walking with her as she greets her future with Arthur.
I've been asked to give a welcome speech and toast. It will be brief. I'll share a memory or 2 of her growing up, welcome a son into the fold, thank the stars for bringing them together and everyone who came to celebrate. I will also say that the universal advice given to newlyweds, "never go to sleep angry", is total BS. What? Up all night? Foolish! Of course you'll have angry nights, but you'll likely have a fresh perspective in the morning after a good night's sleep. And at least you can go to work well rested.
As hard as it will be without emotion, I will also beseach them not to make any crucial decisions impulsively. Ponder it, sleep on it, try to imagine the long term effects,and you'll come to the right conclusion. It's too late for me, I've never to recovered, but Carla and Arthur have made the right decision to guide their life. I wish them a lifetime of happiness and fun and don't want them to screw it up.
It has been a long road for her, full of stops and starts, but I told her love can appear spontaneously. Their story is unusual. They met at the beginning of the 2020 Pandemic, isolating together in a small cabin on the coast of Maine, and when they eventually returned to the city, I assumed they would go their separate ways. But no, they began dating, reversing norms while finding each other.
Their story is perfectly retold on their wedding site.
Our Story
First comes a pandemic, then comes marriage
Once upon a time, an opera singer and an actor performed on the same Metropolitan Opera stage
(literally crossing paths) but had never met
..until..
They swiped right.
March 10, 2020.
Our First date: Cornerstone Karaoke. NYC.
We had no idea what was coming.
Most couples ease their way toward living together.
We did it in reverse.
Only days after meeting, we grabbed masks and sanitation wipes from a friend, loaded the car, and headed North before the city shut down. A tiny cabin on the coast of Maine became our first home. We cooked — her family dishes, his family dishes, whatever we could dream up. We sang and danced and clowned around to ease our worries and comfort each other in the midst of great uncertainty. In doing so, we learned how to be a team. In a time of great darkness, we found light and hope in each other. We were very lucky.
Ladybug luck refers to the widespread belief that ladybugs are symbols of good fortune, happiness, and love. The cabin was full of them and on the first evening one had landed on Arthur so, naturally, he made a wish. Inspired by our tiny roommates, we made a short film called Ladybug. In the final scene, she walks into the ocean and is spit back out. That felt true: when the world closed, we made a smaller one that opened
- a world in which we are stronger together.
We found a creed that still fits:
“Nothing’s going to be OK, but together we’re going to be OK.”
Not cynicism - steadiness - together.
For 3 months, we embraced the simplicity of our cabin life; when the city reopened, we brought our bubble back to the world—meeting each other’s friends, families, and places. Honeymoon first, dating later. Living in reverse revealed that we could depend on each other and find steadiness no matter what life threw at us.
Our first year together was full of life's surprises. With all the beautiful and good came equally hard times: a car fire in Spring 2021, a health scare and diagnosis that Fall, and the loss of Carla's parent Shelly soon after. Yet even with each misfortune, we found great fortune, trust in our creed and undeniable support from our loved ones who lifted us up throughout. Again and again, someone—friend, stranger, fate—showed up right on time to remind us that we were going to be OK, and we've believed and trusted in it ever since. With such abundant love we would be more than ok.
The rest grew naturally and our love spawned effortlessly. We remained curious, open and kept making memories—some on stages, some in kitchens, some on epic drives under big skies. We fed people often - Carla loves to host a dinner party! We learned patience on long days, humor on short ones, and how to keep choosing each other in the in-between. Our lives were as rich as our love and the love around us.
For his 40th birthday, Carla threw Arthur a surprise Roast & Toast Cabaret surrounded by family and friends. And in true Arthur fashion and flair, he reversed the surprise and proposed with the ring he was already wearing—a little theater band with the comedy and tragedy masks. A year later, on her birthday Carla felt it only appropriate to return the proposal. Two performers, one duet, and with equal hearts - one vow:
We choose each other—and then we choose again.
Now we’re making official what we’ve practiced since Maine. We found a garden with California light, asked our friend Wade to stand with us, and our friends and our family to surround us.
We have planned a night-before cabaret—roasts, toasts, songs and celebration, and a little room for luck.
June 13, 2026.
I was browsing for photos for another blog post, as well as pictures of my daughter for a wedding collage but was easily distracted by photos of purges over the years to travel, move, simplify. Every time, I asked myself if either child would want this and if the answer was NO, out the door it went - sold, donated or trashed. I hope I've made their life simpler after my passing, leaving only cherished belongings or items easily disposed of.
This is a random collection of past purges and remembrance of the excesses that once defined me. There are times when, yes, I wish I had certain things, especially books, but the really important stuff, photos, my parents' woodworking items, handmade quilts, children's toys and clothes, are still with me or in storage.
I remember with fondness as I look over these pictures...some items remind me of a place, event, a time in my life.
What a jumble of possessions. Everyone has them.
I'll never skate again.
I live simply now, but I have a weakness for kitchen toys. Another time!
I wrote the lyrics for the restless hearts. The truth isn't in the rules they gave us, it's in the things we find when we dare to get lost. (Kelly Boesch)
I'm actually making plans. Hooray for me! I just finished my last iron infusion for anemia, and it's working! I no longer dread, well, everything, like leaving my bed to perform mundane chores, even eating. My to-do list includes hanging up my lace curtains and pretty them up with dried vines and flowers, make yogurt, re-pot new herbs that didn't survive the winter and basic spring cleaning. So basically, I'm starting over.
I've also taken a leap of faith for the first time in years. Throwing caution to the wind, I bought 4 tickets to see Alabama Shakes and Mavis Staples at Bethel Woods (Woodstock) on Sept 4 with front center seats, the best in the house. I'll go with Extraordinary people or alone and sell any unused tickets. Be my guest. I have all summer to figure it out.
It would be nice to take the rig to the RV park, but it was repossessed a few years back. Since I'd like to stay a few days, perhaps I can find a nice VRBO
I recently began writing more often, sometimes because I'm bored, but also because it's therapeutic. I've been recovering from some procedure or other for the past few years and have lost interest or ability in most activities I used to enjoy. I continue write 'til the wee hours, totally relaxed, listening to music of all sorts, lost in thought. Sometimes I share on Facebook in the moment, but next morning, 1st thing... "O lordy, what did you post last night?" Delete.
I play games or watch YouTube videos and only do what's absolutely necessary. I don't watch much TV, but when I do, it's a travel or culinary channel. I manage to keep most appointments but often reschedule. I look forward to empty days, but once I'm out, I'm fine. It's like prying me out of a packed sardine can.
The Dreams. Recently, I get flashbacks during the day of dreams which I usually forget within hours. I see them often, repeatedly and weeks later. Often it's visual, just a flash of a moment or location, or an emotion, but I remember them, and they keep coming back. I have quite a collection now. odd
I also had another Visitation Dream, the 2nd in the past year. This wasn't as vivid, but there was a presence. I don't believe it, but perhaps there's something on the other side. hope. AI:"Unlike regular dreams that feel foggy or fragmented, visitation dreams possess remarkable clarity and coherence. The experience unfolds with a crystal-clear quality, each moment vivid, purposeful and feels tangible, as though you were truly present. There's often a clear storyline, unlike the scattered nature of typical dreams. This clarity reflects the sacred nature of these encounters and their vividness of these dreams makes them easy to recall in detail, even years later".
Although I hold onto these dreams, memories in general are totally useless. "take comfort in your memories". No, never. Longing overpowers all. I have vivid memories of past loves, lives, travels, kids but take no comfort in them and tear up when I'm alone or driving. I make vague attempts to be useful, but general chores, even watering my plants (actually 1 plant) is a chore.
I always fancied myself a country woman. All my life, no matter where I lived, small town, country, on the road or big city, I valued a life of self-sufficiency, not buying into the life of fast food, prepared meals, pre-made everything, processed edibles. Oh I've broken that rule more times than I'd like to admit, but keep trying.
I love baking bread...
hanging out laundry
making soap
gardening fail...rocks
canning the fall harvest
living off-grid
I have so many places I want to explore, making the most of the unknown time I have left, but I'm too timid to leave the house alone unless I have to. I find it impossible to visit a shop I've never been to or eat alone at a restaurant, even a diner, so drive-thru is the only option for now. I bought new hiking boots and trekking poles. The Little Conestoga Creek in literally in my back yard, but I've never walked back there, even after almost 4 years! Last fall, full of hope, I bought new clothes, shoes, a renewing, but they're mostly in my closet, unworn. I have never been alone and hate it. I'm such a chatterbox, love to share when out and about. Otherwise, why bother?
I manage to go to PT or MAG (Medically Adaptive Gym) a couple times a week, unless I oversleep or find some other excuse not to go, but I keep medical appointments most of the time. Although I've fixed my joints and back, I'm now dealing with anemia, low iron, vitamin D and B12, so there's that. With treatment of iron infusions and vitamins, I'll break away from this lethargy and be good to go soon. Physically, I'm all fixed.
My sewing days are over, so I'm selling my vintage Singer Slant Needle sewing machine and cabinet. It has a gaggle of attachments including button-holer, pleater, ruffler and more. It belonged to my Aunt Ann, who was an excellent tailor, making most of her own dresses and coats that looked like fine designer clothes. I'll keep a smaller portable Brother quilting machine.
As I write this, Benny and the Jets plays, the iconic song blasted through a window at Kiester Rd Apts in Slippery Rock the summer of 1973. Dancing in the streets, joy everywhere.
Random: I counted 22 friends on Facebook who are no longer with us. Is this sounding dreadful? It is...
In a few months, I'll be navigating to California to support Carla and her fiancé in marriage June 13, 2026 in Visalia CA. In other words, I'm walking her down the aisle but not "giving" her away. During that time, I'll be out of my comfort zone, but I've never been to the west coast or seen the Pacific, so I'll manage.
Why California? When we first moved to NYC Gateway Towers, Manhattan NY, we met Wade and Laura, and Carla was hired to nanny their 2 small children when she was 15. They have been lifelong friends ever since. They sublet their Manhattan apartment, bought a house in Visalia CA and offered to host wedding festivities. After looking at venues nearby, she decided to take them up on their offer. I'm nervous as a whore in church to leave my comfort zone, but excited to send her off in into a magical future. That's all folks, til we meet again.
”Let’s walk towards each other and let’s say goodbye.” Legendary performance artists and former couple Marina Abramović and Ulay (1943-2020) discuss their final joint performance.
After many years of collaborating in life and art, Marina Abramović and Ulay decided to end their relationship and collaboration in 1988 with one final performance piece: The Great Wall Walk. The two walked the Great Wall of China, one from the East end of the wall, the other from the West, meeting halfway: ”This was probably the most dramatic goodbye,” Marina Abramović says.
“We met one day before, and we didn’t talk. We only said good luck,” Ulay recalls. “Our greatest wish was to walk, to move.” Walking over 2000 km with no prior training took a toll on the body, but “once you get the strength, you understand the beauty of nature,” Marina Abramović says, Ulay agreeing: “I got so in tune with the Earth, with my body, which was a great sensation.”
Finally meeting each other meant closing the chapter of not only their relationship but also working together as artists: “This was so painful, the whole thing,” Abramović explains: “Saying goodbye is saying goodbye to our collaboration work, and you find yourself in a kind of emptiness.” Both went their separate ways: “When we split, it was like a person had died,” Ulay says. The couple famously reunited at Marina Abramović’s performance The Artist is Present at MoMA in 2010.
