Parting thought for this morning: if the Yankees are so invincible, how come they never win anymore? This random ramble courtesy of a conversation with a Philly fan who was just happy they made it as far as they did!
Adding on to small dogs
Author Archives: therealtamara
For an opinionated woman such as I, blogging is an excellent outlet. This is one of many fori that I use to bloviate. Enjoy! Comment on my commentary.
Comes knocking
We’re an opportunistic people, we New Yorkers. 79th going east off 1st was closed for emergency vehicles on Marathon Day.
It became a playground. These boys throwing a football and the kids playing tag around NYPD trucks took hold of a great big play street.
Over 50 years of living on the starboard side of NYC’s Marathon has given 50 years of griping.
This year it felt cozy. I remembered the occasion and planned accordingly. I made my last foray to west First Avenue on Sat. evening; let them shut it off as early as 10am and the stragglers trail in late into the night.
Halloween provided the opportunity and these little horror decorators rose to the occasion. I am sure that after having worked this hard, they’d rather just wait for happenstance to take these down.
A Late Fall
Truthfully, it’s hard to judge when a season is a late arrival. Weather spikes all over the place these days.
I’ve been noting that there was a preponderance of yellow leaves which, and yes, they are beautiful, are the weaker foliage of the Fall. My conclusion today? Reds are just late to the party. At least for me the first week of November for “peak” colors just peeking out appears late.
Falling leaves
Autumn is a lovely season with generously colored leaves gracing the crowns of trees.
Autumnal implies a weathered maturity.
It is also in the lexicon of sadness, where it suggests regrets over the changing seasons.
Before the Fall can decry an end to warm weather and revelry, it decorates our environs.
Somewhere in there, our man-made decorations creep in as we celebrate a pagan holiday.
Leaves, in pretty colors, fall to the ground, and with the nip in the air, define an end to summer.
The better way
To me, this is the highway
To heaven, spread out so
You have to jump from one
To the other like jumping
Over stepping stones, or in
Tight, marking an ephemeral
Pathway, built of clouds and
Leading overhead, skyward.
Just as we imagine a heavenly
Roadway to guide us, upward
Towards our better or even
Our best selves, this is the
Highway to heaven. We need
Search, nor yearn, no more
Exercise
Spirited activity is good for body [of course] and soul [incidentally.] It comes in many formats, from just good old aerobics or push-ups & pull downs to spins on a bike, either across town or staying in place -to mention just a few.
The talented can hit tennis balls over the net or affect the butterfly stroke. The choices are wide and high. The idea is to keep moving.
Is this something new? Can’t walk your dog without stopping to give him a treat? Not something I remember from my days on a leash. Maybe that was why my pooch dragged me the last 400 yards to the supermarket.
We are so lucky to have a bee-line view to Central Park’s festivities. It’s the Friday before the Marathon and fireworks were in order.
Autumn approaching
Yellow appears, now just
Blanketing the crown of
The tree like the white
Covers my crown; soon the
Yellow leaves will overrun
The green and then drop
As the temperature does
Positive thinking
Millard Fillmore, remember him? Well, I hear he was head of a supremely negative political movement that was proud to call itself the Know Nothing Party.
An aside here: the fool is proud of that which the wise man finds embarrassing.
old Yugoslav expression
Ignorance goes hand in hand with the kind of pride that revels in conspiracy theories. It is the foundation on which falsehoods and misinformation [aka LIES] are built.
Along with the untruths, there is a new kind of pornography spreading in negative political advertising.
The good news for us is we can eschew the Know-Nothings and disdain far-fetched theories.
We know something; we know better.
We can use our knowledge. We can come to rational conclusions. We can be wise and principled.
Speaking of Croatia
Just cause a place was a point of your origin, does not mean you haven’t overlooked some of its finer points.
For Instance, I never heard of a dessert called the bayadere which apparently is a specialty from my mother’s neck of the Balkans. I encountered one at Les Gateaux de Marie and have to admit it’s very addictive. I am a huge chocolate mixed with nuts fan.
The coffee at this little French bakery Cafe is far from solid. It’s the bajadera I come back for from time to time.
Speaking of La Bayadere, it’s also the name of a classical dance. While I never fully understood its virtues when I was the audience, it is an elaborate and much admired work. I think my imagination is stymied by the appearance of ghosts.
Marius Petipa conceived this dramatic tale of exotica and eternal love set in ancient India for a large troupe of his dancers. The title refers to the Indian temple dancer, Nikiya, whose ghost returns to seek vengeance and be reunited with her noble lover, Solor.
How the name for an Indian temple dancer came to grace a Croatian sweet, I cannot tell you. I will attest that the pastry is, like an Indian Temple Dancer, an exotic treat.
The ghost or a wraith of some sort is an oft seen character in ballet, from Giselle, Les Sylphides to the apotheosis in Swan Lake.
Thus closes this Halloween-themed episode….
Changes
Looking at old pictures, I am stricken
By how we've changed. Even those I
Did not know, never encountered but
In photos, are amended as they age.
My mother was so dewy, so fresh as
A girl, as a young woman; that sad
Speculation in her eyes, now in mine,
Reflected time passing. Her mother,
Staring out of a frame, shows me a
Likeness that pleases me, as much as
My mother's eyes in my mirror do. It
Is heredity, my own, depicted in my
Face. Even if it is not the same face
I find in that photograph from 1990,
There is something I recognize there.
Something of my own. As we get older
I have said there is something generic
In our appearance. It is harder to hold
The individuality of youth; harder to
Maintain the vibrance of middle-age.
I am stricken by how we've changed.
All The Best 